CHAPTER XXI

TEMPLE CAMP TAKES NOTICE

They even lingered in group form, watching him as he ambled off down toward the lake. He had been at camp nearly a week, and he was still quietly devoted to Skinny. He had not exploited Skinny nor made any ostentatious show of being his champion. Yet he was devoted to him in an easy-going unpretentious sort of way. He had never said, nor even thought, "I might as well be nice to the poor kid." Evidently he did not know that Skinny was just a poor little codger--a mascot. Somebody would have to tell him about that. The funny part of it was that he did not get himself laughed at.

Skinny's winning of the Hiawatha canoe had not brought him any lasting glory. The white pennant had been lifted many times since he had scampered off with it, eager and trembling. But now scouts began to wonder how he had secured this permanent award of the tall, polite, easy-going boy with the white scarf. They did not exactly begin to take Skinny seriously, but they were puzzled. They tried to find a weak point in Bently, some idle or effeminate quality, but there was just nothing to get hold of.

Skinny was waiting at the lake, eager and anxious. He lived in perpetual dread that Bently would "fall down" on him. But Bently never did. He came ambling down with that pleasant smile which always reassured Skinny.

"Did they ask you to go on bee-line with them?"

"Point to point, you mean?"

"Yes, they call it bee-line for short. I never went on one, but I know all about how they do; you have to go across brooks and climb over things and everything; you'd have a lot of fun. That feller that was kidding me at camp-fire last night--you know that fat feller?--he went through a house, even. Are you sure you're going to go out with me?"

"I ought to be the one to know," said Danville.

"Did they try to get you to not do it?"

"No, why? How are we going; in your canoe?"

"Yes, but it's out, my patrol is using it. Maybe we better take a boat, hey? That's it, over in the middle of the lake."

"Seems to be coming in, let's wait for it."

They sat down on the springboard to wait. The lake was dotted with boats; every one seemed to be out fishing.

"I couldn't swim across again, because I was crazy that time," said Skinny.

"You can do things when you're crazy," Danville said.

"_I_ can," said Skinny, "but not any other time. I got to get all crazy like. Do you? It don't count so much if you're crazy like. That's why everybody forgot about it. They said I was lucky."

"They said that about Lindbergh."

"If I get good and mad, then I can do things. Only most of the time I can't get mad. They're nice to me up here, that's sure."

"Yes, that's good."

"Are we going to stay friends like! I don't mean just jollying me, but are we going to stay friends like this?"

"Why not?"

"Because I'm a mascot. Do you mind if I don't have a regular scout suit?"

"I never noticed."

"Here they come now, they're coming in. That feller paddling in front is Hunt Ward. That other one paddling is Connie Bennett, he's my patrol leader. That other one belongs in a troop from Rhode Island; he goes around with them a lot; he likes my patrol."

The Hiawatha canoe, with its merry trio, glided toward the float, Connie brought it around, and it paused rocking alongside. "H'lo Skinny," Hunt called.

"Can I go out in it now?" Skinny asked. "This feller's going with me, can I use it?"

They glanced at Danville who stood by, watching them. "You ought to have been down here an hour ago," Hunt said to him, "and you could have gone along. We've got some perch."

"Now is just as good," said Danville.

"She's all full of water, wait till we get her on the float and tip her," Connie said.

The three voyagers proceeded with the rather clumsy task of hauling the canoe up on the float and turning it over.

"You don't need to haul her up," Danville said. "Here, let me show you."

He kneeled on the float, and reached over, pulling the opposite gunwale up and toward him. By a quick application of dexterity and strength the canoe was tipped up sideways against the edge of the float, and the water poured out of it. Then Danville eased it down into the lake again. By this trick he did a two man job while the others stood watching and feeling a little superfluous. Yet it was more than a trick, for when Connie tried to do the same thing he could not with all his strength raise the canoe to the necessary angle. "That's some wrinkle," he said. He preferred to view it as a trick rather than as an exhibition of extraordinary strength. "I guess you've got to know how," he said.

"Oh, yes," laughed Danville.

They had intended to jolly Skinny and discourage his project of using the canoe. The Elks thought a good deal of this canoe. They liked to see it safely in its locker when they were not using it. They had intended to say as usual, "Oh, you don't want to use it." But here was an embarrassing complication. The tall, smiling boy with the white scarf had modestly shown them a trick and a strength of arm not to be ridiculed. This was no time or place for authority or banter. He was quite master of the situation. It would be quite absurd to remind Skinny of dangers.

"I suppose it's all right for us to go out in his canoe, isn't it?" Danville asked. There was no hint of sarcasm in his remark and his handsome open face was wreathed in a friendly smile. But just the same these Elks felt a rebuke. A strange, uncomfortable feeling was upon them that this boy was their master, mentally and physically. If they had been sure that he meant that pronoun Ids in a sneering sense, they could have got back at him. But they did not know what he meant, any more than they knew how he had tipped the canoe. They were wise scouts and they made no mistake. Somehow or other no boys ever made a mistake with Danville Bently. They sensed something. They were embarrassed--and respectful.

"Sure, it's his. Why can't he use it if he wants to?" Connie said. He seemed inclined to be reasonable.

"That'll be dandy," said Danville.

Just as Howell Cross's group had watched him rather puzzled, so now these three returning voyagers lingered there on the float watching him as he paddled away with Skinny wedged up in the bow like an uncanny little doll. He paddled, as he did everything else, without the slightest fuss or effort. He had that about him which suggested that he could make up his mind without the slightest fuss or effort, that he would jump off a roof without the slightest fuss or effort.

"I can't make _that_ guy out," said the scout from Rhode Island. "Gee, that white scarf looks plain out on the water huh?"

"Notice how he holds his left hand!" said Connie. "I think he compensates with his right wrist, honest."

"No, it's the long back sweep," said Hunt. "Geeeee! Look at the reach he's got!"

"He kind of reminded us it was Skinny's canoe," said Connie. "Did you notice how nice he did that?"

"Sure, and he paddles the same way," laughed Hunt. "He _does_ things the same way he _says_ things. You never know what he means. Looks easy till you try to do it."

"Any other scout came up here with a bib around his neck they'd kid the life out of him," said Connie.

"Nothing about him looks like a bib to me," said the scout from Rhode Island.