CHAPTER XVI
THE ACCUSED
"Don't you scouts know it's rest hour?" said Holman. "You'd better look in your handbooks and see what's on page three thirty-seven. What are you scouts doing down here at this time of day?"
"It's a lie!" said Roy. "You can't believe a word the Handbook says--you can't even believe the punctuation. It says you can find comfort in the woods and we looked all around and didn't find any--we even used our searchlights, I'll leave it to Warde. Hey, Sharpy, come on out, the National Council has decided that a hobby-horse isn't an animal so you can't name a patrol after it. Honest, I'll leave it to Ralph Warner. You can't press the leaves of a hat-tree either--there's a new rule--so if you have any you better throw them away. The rules are all changed, you can't get the printing badge by finding footprints any more. Hey, come on out, Sharpy."
Holman did not immediately respond to this merry summons, but Danny who was in the dormitory strolled out smiling and sat on the steps. Holman's methodical activities amused him, but he had never poked fun at him.
"Hey, Florida," said Roy; "how 'bout it--isn't it true they're going to give crutches for veteran scouts? You better put in your application while you're young, Sharpy. You better start saving up."
Holman emerged upon the porch. There was nothing sissified about this boy; it was not for that reason that they took delight in "jollying" him. It was that he was so terribly sober and earnest. He was going to be a scout by the book; he thought that if he could pass an examination in scouting he would be a scout. He was studying it, cramming, and he thought that boys who were just naturally scouts and did not study it very hard, were slackers.
Roy had fifteen merit badges and had enjoyed the fun of getting them. But this serious boy was not having the time of his life being a scout. He should have been at boarding school, where he would have won honors. Handbooks and tests and awards will help, of course, but scouting is a matter of fine spirit. The scout who thinks only of getting ahead, of swimming fifty yards because the book prescribes it, is apt to forget about his comrade scouts. A curriculum is a pretty poor sort of a pal.
"I should think you scouts would know this is rest hour," said Holman. "If you want to get anywhere in scouting you've got to relax. You come around here with your nonsense when I'm supposed to be storing up a little energy."
"Tell us all about that," encouraged Ralph Warner, winking at Danny, who was highly amused.
"On account of your yelling I'll have to make it up to-morrow when I ought to be stalking," said Holman.
"There may be some truth in that," teased Warde. "Hey, Sharpy, why don't you go out on a hike with your friend and neighbor some night for no reason at all?"
"With Bently, you mean? I'd never accomplish much. I guess he's a sort of more of a tramp than a scout. I'd never learn much from him. I've only got eight weeks here."
"You let him say that about you, Florida?" Warde asked.
"Sure, let him go as far as he likes," laughed Danny. "I don't claim to be a scout."
"I don't see what you're here for then?" said Holman.
"I can tell you the reason," said Roy. "He's here because he's here. Am I right, Florida?"
"Surest thing," laughed Danny. He was hugely entertained as he sat on the steps watching this show.
"He's wasting his father's money," said Holman. "If that's any comfort to him."
"How do you know his father's got any money!" Warde shot back.
"He deduced it by deduction," said Danny.
"If he'll let me help him on scout stuff, I'll be glad to do it," said Holman.
"There's your chance, Florida," Warde and Ralph shouted together.
"I don't believe I could make the grade," said Danny.
"You could if you tried; you don't try," said Holman.
"Hey, Sharpy," said Roy, "there's something we came here to see you about. Let's quit fooling. These two silver-plated foxes and myself were appointed a committee to come here and ascertain--did you get that word, _ascertain_? We have to find out if it's true what all the fellows are saying that you went down to Catskill with Tom Slade in his Ford and then came back and said that you crossed Valley Creek by means of a ford and then claimed the _new discovery prize_ on account of finding a way to get over Valley Creek not by the bridge. If you did that it was dishonest and conduct unbecoming to a scout. Are you claiming that prize or not? Yes or no--or both. Did you deliberately accidentally deceive the Council or not?"
"You'd better look out how you talk about dishonesty and deceiving," said Holman rather heatedly.
"I call your attention to law one on page something or other of the Scout Handbook," Roy persisted.
"That's the wrong page," said Warde.
"Then it's page sumpty-sump," said Roy. "A scout's honor is to be toasted--trusted. If he violates his honor by telling a lie--comma--or cheating--comma--he may be directed otherwise told to hand over his scout badge--period. Holman Sharpe of Pie Alley, if you did that we demand that you hand over your scout badge to this committee of solid-silver foxes. Lying cannot be tolerated in Temple Camp--unless you're lying down so as to relax and store up energy."
By this time Danny was laughing aloud; there was just the faintest suggestion of Skinny about his countenance when he laughed. But Holman Sharpe was clearly ruffled and he advanced, not exactly menacingly, but with something in his manner which showed that he did not at all catch the humor of their reference to dishonesty and deception. He was a serious and literal boy and construed the use of these words in any case as a slur and an insult.
"You said something about a scout's honor," he said. "It's on page thirty-four if you want to know where it is. You better look out how you talk about mine. The first thing you scouts know, one of you will get what he good and plenty deserves." Granted, this boy knew a good deal about scouting; but he did not know much about scouts.
"If I said anything I'm sorry for, I'm glad of it," said Ralph.
"Well you said--your leader said that lying isn't tolerated at this camp. That's as much as calling me a liar." Now he did advance, flushed and angry.
"Cut it out," said Roy good-naturedly, seeing which way the tide was setting.
"As long as you spoke of a scout's honor--" Holman began.
"Cut it out, you blamed simp," said Ralph, his tone changing suddenly to disgust.
"I'll remind you of law ten,* too," said Holman.
* This law refers to bravery and standing up for the right.
"Yere, we know all about it," said Ralph. "Don't tell us about scouting. We were here before you ever heard of this camp. You better learn to take a joke----"
"Sure, that's another law," said Roy.
"And as long as you're making such a fuss about lying," said Ralph contemptuously, "if you want me to make you out a liar, I'll do it. How about calling Florida a tramp? Who the dickens do you think you are, calling scouts tramps? _Wasting his father's money_; can you beat that? _Gee_, as long as you want to be serious, I'll say you were lying."
This was intended more as a compliment to Danny, whom they all seemed to like, than as a slur to Holman. Certainly nothing was further from the minds of these young Silver Foxes than to start a quarrel. But the serious Holman always carried his "honor" around with him as he did his field book. He chose to take Ralph's remark as an insult and he struck him more from a sense of duty than from anger.
Scarcely did the astonished Ralph realize what had happened when Danny sprang between, spreading his arms to separate the two. "That's enough, cut it out," he said. But indeed there was no chance of a fight. Holman having done his duty stalked into the dormitory. Warde and Roy, highly aroused by his act, followed him protesting. So there for the moment stood Ralph, his hand against his face with Danny standing before him saying, "That's enough, no more."
Just at that moment Councilor Wainwright, carrying his big flat chart book and inspection record, came around the corner of the building and paused suddenly.
"At it again, Bently?" he queried with grim cordiality.