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Updated: August 12, 2024
Fritz had begged to be allowed to carry his old Marlin shotgun, under the plea that they might run across some ferocious animal like a wildcat, or a skunk, and would find a good use for the reliable firearm; but the scoutmaster had set his foot down firmly there. But they would have to make numerous fires while on the way, and a little hatchet was apt to come in very handy.
The Wolf patrol a perfect score sixteen points." Silence in the patrols. "Break ranks," the Scoutmaster ordered. Instantly there was a babel of excited talk. Scouts who had cost their patrols points through untidiness were upbraided by their comrades. Andy caught Don's arm. "We're off in the lead," he chuckled. "It's staying in the lead that counts," said Don. The shrill of Mr.
"Now it is my turn," interpolated Rand, pulling in another fish. "6," he went on, "A Scout is a friend to animals. A Scout obeys orders by his parents, patrol leader, or Scoutmaster, without question. A Scout smiles and whistles under all circumstances. A Scout is thrifty." "Crickets!" cried Pepper when Rand finished, "there's a whole lot to learn, ain't there? We shall have to get busy.
As it floated down it expanded into a cloud of red mist. He dropped his fight and machete, and put his arms over his face. As the mist enveloped him, he passed out. The boy scouts, in the car, estimated that their scoutmaster had been gone about five minutes when they saw him stop at the edge of the clearing, then walk on in.
But the breathless anxiety that ran through him now was something new. He ached to get in and do something for his patrol. Splints came next. This time Don and Ritter represented the Wolves. Mr. Wall's first order was for a broken thigh. The watching scouts were silent. All three teams worked rapidly. There was a hush as the Scoutmaster examined the patients.
Don't expect me before that, but if I should show up on a surprise raid, don't drop dead. I may go over the top some fine day and drop in on you like a hand grenade. Are you there all alone? Write me again and let's get acquainted. I'd send you a photo, only I gave my girl the last one I had. So long, BILLY BARNARD, Scoutmaster. Uncle Jeb smoked his pipe leisurely, listening to this letter.
And I honestly believe that when Scoutmaster Ned thrust that leather case containing his revolver down into his pocket, if he could only have known that it was for the purpose of shooting Pee-wee Harris, he would have laughed so hard that he would have capsized the rowboat. The boat glided swiftly through the dark water. "Nick will get the silver cup for that stunt," said Norris.
"In this diving," Hastings explained to the judges, "what we want to figure on is the way they do it. If a dive is graceful, and the diver strikes the water true, going straight down, with arms and legs held close together, you give so many points for that. I'll make each dive first; that will serve as a model, you see." Scoutmaster Hastings was not speaking in a boastful manner.
The Scoutmaster had said only two weeks before, "I think we're going to be proud of you some day." A queer little lump came up into Tim's throat and made him swallow hard. He did not think Mr. Wall would like it if he asked to be changed, and and he wouldn't ask. The entire patrol saw that he avoided Don, for he made no effort to hide his feelings. He left the meeting as soon as it was over.
"Oh, we'll start something, leave it to us," said Roly Poly. The arrival of the five North Bridgeboro scouts was the occasion of much merriment and banter. These boys from the small village up the river had formed themselves into a patrol but they were two members short of the required number and they had no scoutmaster.
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