CHAPTER XVIII

TO PASTURES NEW

One might suppose that such a boy as Danny would have at least the quality of understanding himself; he was nonchalant and self-assured; so easily the master of a situation. But strangely enough, now that he had plenty of money and could go upon his way with comparative safety, he felt neither safe nor comfortable. He had suffered no scruples at masquerading at the expense of an unknown scout, but now that the unused balance of this board money was handed him, he felt like a thief. Such is the strange quality of money! There are those who will accept favors of every sort, except money. As long as he had been a guest (?) at camp he had not thought of himself as doing anything dishonest. Risky no doubt, but not stealing. But now his act was reduced to its common denominator. He held the money, not simply what the money represented. And he felt exactly as if he had stolen it. It needed only these crisp bills to remind him of the outrageous fraud he had been perpetrating.--Money to return to Florida.

This climax of affairs troubled him, for it showed him that he was not so sure of himself. In a way, Temple Camp had found him out, or at least revealed him to himself. He had avoided scouting so as to keep under cover. Then he had deliberately sauntered to his own destruction by accepting the dismissal which should have been Holman Sharpe's. That is, he had done a good turn, which of course, is scouting. In the course of this renunciation he had found himself in possession of seventy dollars. And he could not keep it. He was thoroughly annoyed with himself at this. He was found out--he had found himself out. He had tracked himself and found himself. He alone had done the whole business!

"They must think I'm joy riding in a baby carriage, needing money," he said to himself. He was not willing to put his act of returning the money on the somewhat weak and "kiddish" grounds of honesty. Such a resourceful, skillful boy as he, could travel without money. And so forth and so on. Anyway, he sauntered with his finest nonchalant air into Administration Shack, giving a little sneery look at the stuffed birds and snake skins displayed there. He could never, never go in for scouting. Oh no! He pulled out one of the chairs around the big writing table, sat down, pulled a Temple Camp envelope to him, put the money into it and addressed it, "To the Managers of Temple Camp."

He scaled it over to the young clerk at the desk as he went out. "Here's a love letter for Wainey and the bunch," he said. "Tell 'em I didn't need it."

"Sorry you're going, Scout Bently," said the young scout clerk.

"That's all right, so long, old man."

"You'll find it pretty hot in Florida this time of year, won't you?"

"I'm not there yet."

"You going down on the bus?"

"No, I'm going to hike down and get the six thirty-two."

"Well, hope to see you again."

One thing he wanted to do and that was to find Skinny. Poor Skinny, he would be relieved by the departure of this unconcerned young masquerader. In that two weeks he had obeyed Danny's order and not sought him out. He had smiled shyly on the two or three occasions when they had passed each other by and once at night, when all the scouts were at campfire, he had ventured down to the deserted Pioneer Row to have just a few words with his dubious hero if Danny were there. But he could not find him. "He's scared, because he thinks maybe I look like him," Skinny said to himself. As if he, Skinny, could look like that resourceful and daring adventurer! He had thought much about Danny, and worried about him, in those two weeks. Once he had seen a strange man coming along the path west of the storehouse holding a boy by the collar and he had been seized with panic fear that it was Danny in the clutch of the Blythedale authorities, until he saw that it was just a visiting parent indulging in pleasantries with his son.

But Skinny was not to be found on that afternoon of Danny's sudden departure, and Danny took the trail around the lake without seeing him. He went that way because he wished to avoid villages and the open roads. The route was longer and much more difficult than that via the highroad, but he could get to Catskill without passing through Leeds. His intention was to hook a ride on a train to New York and then, having no money, to use his wits. But, of course, Danny never knew from one minute to another what he would do.

So Holman Sharpe was able to proceed uninterrupted with his strenuous cramming in the interest of scouting. We should not be too severe with Holman. Realizing what Danny was doing for his sake, he tried to find him and insist that they tell Councilor Wainwright the truth. But Danny had already gone. That was the great thing about Danny, he was always as good as his word and acted promptly. Whether it was hitting a boy in the eye or making a sacrifice, it was all the same. He hated talk and posing.

Thus baffled in his effort to make amends, Holman contented himself with the comfortable view that after all his "studies" were more important than the unprofitable loitering of a boy like Danny. Making good use of one's time was surely the paramount virtue, greater than generosity and sacrifice. We shall meet Holman again some day and it will be interesting to note how his studious concentration worked out. He cared more for scouting than he did for scouts.

Nor should we be too lenient with Danny. He had a kind of sophisticated contempt for the prescribed routine of scouting and it was not exactly in the spirit of self-sacrifice that he saved Holman from summary dismissal. It amused him and annoyed him to see this smug candidate for scout honors delving in books and planning to do things which he, Danny, could do so easily. As long as Holman liked that sort of baby play, Danny was quite ready to assure him his continuance of it. But it was with a tolerant sneer that he did it. And generous acts are not done with a sneer.

Moreover, Danny knew that in a couple of weeks the real Danville Bently would arrive and a crisis occur. He had done his stunt of masquerading, and had been able thus to lie low in the perilous days following his escape from the reform school. He went away owing Temple Camp (or the real Bently) the amount of two weeks board, but he had balked at taking the cash that had been proffered him, and had gone penniless.

It may be added that he succeeded in finding the trail through the mountain pass across the lake, which Holman Sharpe had tried four times to follow in doing test four for the first class scout badge.