The Boy Scouts in A Trapper's Camp

by Thornton W. Burgess

  CHAPTER III

  THE BLUE TORTOISE PATROL

  Sparrer, otherwise Edward Muldoon, smallest Scout in the Blue TortoisePatrol, darted back from the corner to the group waiting about theup-town entrance to the subway.

  "He's coming!" he shrilled. "An' two guys wid him, de one wid de doughan' de biggest rube yer ever put yer peepers on!"

  The announcement was electrifying and there was an immediate rush tolook down the street.

  "It's Walt and Harrison all right, but who in the dickens is that withthem, and where did they find him?" exclaimed Ned Patterson.

  "Gee, look at the size of him! He's a rube, all right, by the looks ofhim, but I'd hate to tell him so," muttered Chick Parsons.

  "Red headed and Irish at that! Say, fellers, we'll have some fun withhim," chortled Jack Norwood.

  "Quit your kidding and fall in for a salute!" snapped Assistant LeaderMcNulty.

  Instantly the patrol lined up and as Walter approached, Hal on one sideand Pat on the other, seven hands were raised as one in the Scoutsalute. It was returned by the three older lads.

  "Somebody's wised him to de game, all right," whispered theirrepressible Sparrer to his neighbor as his sharp eyes took note of thefact that Pat had saluted quite as if accustomed to it. "Mebbe hebelongs to some rube patrol."

  There was a nudging of elbows and here and there a half smothered giggleas the youngsters sized Pat up and noticed the awkward fit and roughmaterial of his "store suit," the celluloid collar and the flaming redfour-in-hand clumsily tied. In the eyes of his young critics he wasbranded by these things quite as much as if he had worn a placard "Justfrom the Country."

  "Green goods right from the farm," whispered Chick to Sparrer. "I dareyou to ask him how the caows are."

  Whether or not Sparrer would have taken the dare will never be known,for at that instant Upton introduced the big stranger, and the effectwas magical to say the least. "I want you fellows to shake hands withsome one you already know all about, Corporal Malone of the Lone WolfPatrol, which had the honor of finding Lost Trail last fall, and one ofthe best guides in the North Woods," said he. "He and Harrison, whom youall know, are going with us on the hike this afternoon, and if you chapsfeel as I do about it you know that we are the luckiest patrol in NewYork City. Pat, shake hands with Assistant Leader McNulty."

  Then in turn the others were presented, ending with Sparrer. Pat's blueeyes twinkled as his big hand closed over the little one put out to him."'Tis Irish ye be," said he, "and 'tis the same blood flows in me ownveins. Pwhat iver would the wor-rld do widout the Irish? The BlueTortoise Patrol should be proud thot it has a son av St. Patrick."

  "It is," laughed Upton. "Now, fellows, the Blue Tortoise yell for thebest Scout I know--Pat Malone!"

  The yell was given with a will and caused many a head to turn in thehurrying throng, and many a smile, for the trim uniformed youngsters,faces alight with eagerness for their afternoon outing, were good tosee. Laughing and joking the patrol squeezed into the crowded subwayexpress and they were off for Bronx Park, the wonderful great playgroundwhere for a five cent fare one is lifted as by magic from the heart ofthe city to the heart of the country.

  As the train roared through the great tunnel Pat scanned the individualmembers of the patrol with manifest approval. They were a clean-cut,sturdy looking lot of boys ranging in age from thirteen to sixteen,McNulty, the assistant leader, being the only one of that age. And theywere a representative lot. Two were the sons of well-to-do merchants,one was the son of a broker, another was from the modest home of apatrolman on the police force, a fifth was the son of a subway guard,and the remaining two were Bernstein, whose features unmistakablystamped him as a Hebrew of the upper class, and Sparrer Muldoon, newsboyand street gamin.

  Pat's interest promptly centered in the latter, and he took the firstopportunity to ask about him and how he happened to be associated withothers seemingly so far above him in the social scale. Upton smiled.

  "There isn't any social scale among Scouts, you know," said he.

  Pat nodded. "I ought to know," he agreed. "If there were Pat Malonewouldn't be this very minute the guest of the son of a millionaire. ButI wasn't one of a regular patrol of fellows better off. Tell mesomething about this imp you call Sparrer, and how you dared take himinto this bunch. He seems to fit all right, so far as I can see."

  "Sure he fits," replied Walter. "I put it up to the fellows themselvesand they invited him to join. First time I ran into Sparrer made methink of the first time I met you. He had just trimmed the life out of abully half a head taller than himself for stealing the papers of alittle Jew."

  Pat's eyes began to dance appreciatively. "Go on," he commanded.

  "He had a black eye and a bloody nose and he was as dirty a littleheathen as ever you laid eyes on. But he sure packed a healthy punch ineach fist and knew where to put 'em, to judge by the looks of the bully,who was sneaking away with a whole crowd of newsies jeering at him.Sparrer didn't pay any attention to the rest of 'em, but went over tothe little Jew and gave him half of his own stock of papers to make upfor the ones the bully had taken, and which had been destroyed in thescrap. When the youngster tried to thank him Sparrer swore at him, andhe could swear in those days, believe me! That was the Irish in him,trying to cover up a good deed."

  "A bye afther me own heart," murmured Pat.

  "The whole affair, or rather the motive underneath it, struck me as soScout-like that I thought I'd try to get acquainted," continued Upton.

  "'Good boy,' says I.

  "'Wot's it to you?' says he. 'Oi'll smash yer the same way fer a nickel,yer big dude!' That tickled the bunch, and they began to egg him on andguy me until I saw that if I didn't want to be mixed up in a commonstreet scrap I'd better retreat, which I did ingloriously. Later Imanaged to scrape acquaintance with him, and by making some inquiries Ifound out that his mother is a widow and he was helping support thefamily, that he had a reputation as a scrapper and that though he sworelike a pirate, smoked and chewed tobacco, as most of these street gaminsdo, he was strictly honest and was a terror to the bullies of hisneighborhood. Also that he'd rather fight than eat. Just by chance Idiscovered that his ambition was to become a soldier, but he was worriedfor fear he never would be big enough. He's small for his age, stuntedfor lack of good food when he was a kid, I guess. Next to going into thearmy he wanted to be a prize-fighter. I talked scouting to him a little,but he didn't seem interested until one day I happened along in fulluniform. That got him. I suppose it looked next best to being a soldier.Then I told him all about my patrol and what we were doing and whatscouting stands for, and he gulped it all down like a hard run bucktrying to drink a lake dry.

  "'Gee, Oi'd like dat, but it ain't for poor blokes the loikes of me,'said he. That gave me an idea. There was a vacancy in the patrol, and atthe next meeting I put it right straight to the fellows. I told them allabout Sparrer and got 'em interested, and then I just kind of hinted atthe brotherhood and democracy idea of scouting and what a mighty goodturn it would be if Sparrer could be given a chance to get into thegame, and then dropped the subject. The hint worked all right. They're apretty good bunch, these fellows. They talked it all over and then theycame around and asked me if I supposed Sparrer would like to join theBlue Tortoise Patrol. I told them that I was sure he wouldn't if hesuspected that the invitation was charity on their part. They chewedthis over for a while and then came around and said that they reallywould like to take him in, and there wasn't any charity about it. I tookthe invitation to Sparrer and he went up in the air like a rocket, justas I knew he would.

  "'Say, yer can't put no stuff loike dat over on me,' said he. 'Wot doyer tink Oi am to fall fer a steer loike dat? Dat bunch of high-browsain't wantin' me trainin' in dere camp. Youse has been on de level widme, now hand it ter me straight--wot's de game?'

  "I did my best to make him see that the invitation was sincere andexplained all over again how there is no social distinction betweenScouts, and how money and that sor
t of thing doesn't count, but Icouldn't break through his pride. I'd about given up when I had a happythought. 'Sparrer,' said I, 'I thought you were a dead game sport, but Iguess you've got a streak of yellow in you after all. Some of thesefellows are from fine homes and some are not, but they're white rightthrough, and they've got more sand than you have. They dare to take youin on the same footing that they are on, and you haven't got the nerveto show 'em that you are just as good as they are.'

  "That got him. The long and short of it was he agreed to come around tomy house the next night and meet the bunch, and he did. The fellows weregood Scouts, all right, and treated him on the level just as if he wereone of 'em. When he saw those photos of mine and the snow-shoes andpaddles and the rest of the junk, and heard about the good times thebunch was having, he was eager to be a Scout, but he wouldn't say thathe would join the patrol. It wasn't until about three weeks later whenhe came around in full uniform and said that he would like to be a BlueTortoise that I tumbled to what the trouble had been. He wouldn't joinuntil he could at least look as well as the rest, and he'd been workingover time and saving every penny to get that uniform. I guess he wasright, at that. The fellows wouldn't have cared, but he cared, and beingdressed like the rest made him feel more as if he belonged with thecrowd."

  Again Pat nodded his full understanding of the youngster's feelings.

  "Sparrer took to scouting like a duck to water," Upton continued. "Hecut out tobacco and swearing, and being naturally quick from his life inthe streets he learned quickly and passed the tenderfoot and secondclass tests quicker than anybody else in the patrol. He's a first classScout now, and a mighty good one. He is so full of life and fun that itwasn't any time at all before he was one of the most popular fellows inthe patrol, and when he's on hand he keeps things moving. The hardestthing he has to overcome is slang. You know he was brought up in thestreets. It's his mother tongue. I'm afraid the boys don't help himmuch. They like to hear him. But he's doing his best, and now he's goingto night school. Of course I've told him all about you and the fightyou've made and I rather fancy he's made something of a model and heroof you."

  "The saints forbid!" exclaimed Pat. Nevertheless he looked pleased.

  "Bronx Park! All out!" sang out the guards.

  Once out of the car the patrol fell into line and with Upton in the leadheaded for the park. Once inside the turnstiles he called a conference,"You fellows know what we planned to do to-day," he began, "but that wasbefore we knew that we were to have the honor of Corporal Malone as ourguest. You know he is something of a naturalist, and there are a lot ofanimals and birds and snakes and things here that I expect he isanxious to see. I propose that we show him around instead of doing thefield work we had planned."

  "Mr. Leader!" Pat saluted as he spoke. "The beasties and the bur-rdswill not know what they are missing if they have no chance to inspectgreen goods to-day."

  Chick started violently, remembering his remark to Sparrer, and thelatter maliciously punched him in the ribs and ducked to hide a grin."But I know what I shall miss if you do not carry out your plans, and Ihave no mind to be handed that kind of a lemon. I have all next week tolook at the beasties and only this afternoon to see how little a citypatrol knows of scouting. Arrah now, 'tis mesilf belaves ye be afraid tobe showing me how much betther the Scouts av Upper Chain be than theScouts av the great city av Noo Yor-r-k!"

  "That settles it!" cried Upton when the general laugh had subsided."We'll show him that the Blue Tortoise Patrol isn't afraid to take adare from any one, and we'll show him a few stunts to make his BullMoose up there in the woods turn green with envy. You're on your mettlenow, fellows. We'll go over to the wildest and most lonesome part of thepark and divide into two companies. Pat can take one and be the enemywhich has made a successful raid and made its get-away. Hal can go withhim because he knows the country as well as any of us. We'll give themten minutes' start and then go in pursuit. There's enough snow inpatches to make snowballs. Any one hit on the arms or legs is wounded. Ahit on the throwing arm puts that man out of the fighting, but he isstill at liberty. A hit on either leg puts a man out of action, but hemay hide if he can within a radius of a hundred feet of the place wherehe was hit. A hit on the head or any part of the body puts a man whollyout of action and he becomes a first aid man to take care of thewounded. You fellows have played the game before, and I presume each ofyou has a Red Cross arm band to pin on when you are hit so that you willbe recognized as a non-combatant."

  There was a general assent and Upton continued: "Our camp will be at thepoint we start from. If the enemy can elude us and get back and capturethe camp they win. If we run them down and defeat them or defeat themin a battle at the camp we win. Any man taken prisoner becomes a memberof the other side. Scouts sent out by either side will make full reportsnot only of signs of the enemy but of the country and its conspicuouscharacteristics and animals and birds which are seen. Pat, you can pickyour side. You get three besides Hal."

  Pat's first choice was Sparrer, to the youngster's secret delight. Hethen chose McNulty and Bernstein, and the two companies, Pat at the headof one and Upton at the head of the other, started at the Scout pace forthe scene of action. Arrived there a camp was marked off and Pat and hiscompany at once started off to make the most of the ten minutes allottedthem. Meanwhile Upton laid out his plan of campaign. The camp had beenchosen with a view to defense. On two sides were dense thickets ofbushes from which it would be practically impossible to throw asnowball. Moreover, to reach these thickets it would be necessary forthe enemy to cross a bare hilltop, which meant that surprise from thatquarter was virtually out of the question. On the third side was anoutcropping ledge of rock behind which the defenders could take shelter.The fourth side was open, but could not be approached without the enemybeing in sight for some time. Moreover, in the flat open country beyondthere was no snow, hence the enemy attacking from that direction wouldnot be able to replenish their ammunition. Upton decided that two menwere ample for defense, and at once set all hands to work making asupply of snowballs from the patches of snow still lingering in thethickets. Promptly at the end of ten minutes Chick Parsons was sent outas scout to try to pick up the enemy's trail at the point where they haddisappeared from view with instructions to signal what he shoulddiscover. Norwood was sent in the opposite direction to look for signson the chance that the enemy had circled as soon as they were out ofsight. Patterson and Chambers were left to guard camp and Upton climbedto the top of the little hill which flanked the camp and from whichpoint he could get signals from both Scouts. The game was on.