CHAPTER XX

SKINNY'S PROTÉGÉ

The next day a notice somewhat more lengthy and conspicuous than the usual hastily written announcements appeared on the big bulletin board at Administration Shack. It was typewritten and signed by the two resident trustees. Skinny gazed at it, appalled.

The management of Temple Camp is mortified to make known that the honorable uniform of scouting has been lately used to perpetrate a gross and criminal fraud in this community. On July First a boy representing himself to be a scout, enrolled and secured assignment to quarters at this office. He registered the name of Danville Bently of Florida, a scout who was expected at that time. This unknown boy was lately dismissed from camp for sufficient reasons at the end of two weeks enjoyment of the camp's hospitality. A letter, deferring the arrival of the true Danville Bently, failed to be received at this office and was probably intercepted.

The management of this camp has regretfully had occasion to warn its guests against canvassers representing themselves to be connected with the movement, but never heretofore against any one wrongfully impersonating a scout.

Loyalty to this camp and jealousy for the honor of the scout uniform, will prompt any one who has any knowledge or suspicions of the whereabouts and identity of this miscreant, promptly to bring same to the attention of the management.

This certainly set the matter forth in its true colors and Skinny was aghast. What would they say if they knew that this "miscreant" was also a fugitive from a reform school? But the affair was over and he would not worry any more about it. The bulletin was just a random shot in the dark and nothing happened. Danny was safe. No one knew Danny as he did or they would not put out such notices.

He became devoted to Danville Bently. The only way that Skinny could make friends with a boy was to catch him early, before he was drawn into the activities of the camp life. Every newcomer had a rather slow day or two before becoming acquainted, and this was particularly so with boys who came without their troops. After a new boy became involved in the camp life, he saw Skinny simply as the little mascot and was content to "jolly" him as every one else did. He was not likely to take this queer little fellow seriously and to make a pal of him. Skinny knew this from bitter experience and he capitalized his knowledge of camp and the neighboring countryside with every new arrival. New boys were glad enough to hobnob with this eager little guide while there was nothing else to do and had no scruples about deserting him as soon as they were drawn into the camp life. Skinny knew that he must strike while the iron was hot, as the saying is, and he was always to be found, a gaunt little figure, waiting on Administration steps when the bus came in. No boy could possibly dislike Skinny. But on the other hand no boy could possibly make a permanent comrade of him.

But Danville Bently did just that. The contrast between Skinny and himself was ridiculous, but he seemed not to notice it. A boy who deliberately chose Skinny's company was apt to get himself laughed at. But no one dreamed of laughing. Perhaps no one dared to laugh at this tall boy with the white scarf and belt who ambled about with the cadaverous little gnome who took such conspicuous delight in his company. Once again Skinny had done the unexpected and won a real prize. Truly indeed he never did anything on a small scale.

At first the camp paid no attention while this shabby little janitor showed the new tenant around the enchanted place. That was Skinny's customary job. But when Howell Cross, of the First Vermont Eagles (and an Eagle Scout) asked Danville to go on a point hike and he pleasantly declined, the big heroes of Temple Camp began to sit up and take notice.

"Sorry," said he, "but I'm going out on the lake with Alfred McCord. Tell your patrol I appreciate their asking me." Howell and the others who stood by were astonished not only because it was a compliment to the new boy for the Eagle Patrol so to honor him, but because none of them had ever before heard Skinny called by his real name Alfred. They were to hear that name a good deal in the future.

"Can't you go out on the lake with him any day?" one of these scouts asked.

"Sure, so why not to-day?" said Danville.

"It's up to you."

"How do you like it in Tent Village?"

"All right."

"If you don't like it with the singles you can be a season member of my patrol," said Eagle Scout Cross. "I'm one short, he's away with his folks. They let you do that up here, you know."

"Oh, he knows," laughed another scout. "I guess little sqeedunk told him everything."

"He never told me he stole the white pennant," said Danville not unpleasantly, but with just a touch of sharpness.

It was the first time these well known scouts of camp had come face to face with the tall boy with the soft southern accent, and they observed him closely. They were all scouts of achievement; the Vermont Eagles were a crack patrol and Howell Cross, their leader, was a hero with a following. There were, alas, drones at camp, but this circle was finely representative of scouting. They saw nothing about Bently to suggest the laggard or slacker, or mere "guest" at camp. He had what even Howell Cross had not, and that was a certain picturesqueness; but it was of a sort that revealed no crink or cranny where boyish ridicule could penetrate. An odd hat, or even too much attention to ostentatious details of scout attire (shades of Pee-wee Harris) was pretty sure to arouse mirth and banter in this big community. But the full white scarf with belt and hat cord to match, worn by this tall, self-possessed boy, excited no humorous comment. They asked him respectfully about it.

"Polar Bears," said he. "And I know there aren't any in Florida and that's the funny part. I bet I've said that fifty times since I came here."

"We can sure tell you a long way off," said Howell pleasantly. "Does the silver ring mean anything?"

"It only means my sister gave it to me when I joined the scouts."

"Gee, it's nifty all right. It's not a patrol ring?"

"Yes it is, we all got them."

"You don't have to tie it in a knot, gee that's good."

Ordinarily the mention of a sister would have given Temple Camp just the chance it loved. They would have used the sister to belittle their victim. They would have said, "Oh joy, he's got a little sister." But they just were not moved to do that. They looked at his white scarf gathered into the shining silver ring, and at his belt, and everything about him. They were interested, respectful. And a trifle puzzled. That he should have an engagement with Skinny McCord! And that he seemed to have every intention of keeping it, just as if it were a real engagement.