“Great!” cried Winnie. “When will you come?”
“To-morrow afternoon, I think we can manage it. We’ll get Mr. Travis to make the presentation speech.” Mr. Travis was the boys’ captain and could always be depended upon to fall in with any such plan.
The girls sought out a can opener and brought it to them with a glass of blackberry jam which was duly appreciated.
“You’ve saved our lives,” cried Chet. “Instead of having mere paltry grub we now shall have a feast.” And off they went.
The ceremony of decorating Chico found favor with every one, for the little pony was the pet of them all. Pablo was greatly excited over the prospect while Unc’ Aaron was scarcely less so. Of course these two were invited to be present as were the Clover family and the Scraggses. Claude Lafayette by now had resumed his usual cherubic aspect and seemed no worse for his recent accident. He proudly wore one of his new frocks, while his sisters and brothers appeared in a state of at least visible cleanliness. They were constantly admonished by their mother to “set still and act pretty,” but squirmed uneasily and were covered with confusion if any one spoke to them. No such bashfulness overcame Claude Lafayette. He was a placid youngster and was among friends, therefore he babbled cheerfully, and gave squeals of delight at sight of this or that familiar face.
The girls had been busy all the morning baking gingerbread and making lemonade to serve at Chico’s party, as they called it, and had everything ready by five o’clock, which was the hour set for the gathering. The spot selected was a stretch of meadow at the foot of the hill, half-way between the lodge and the lock. Here the company assembled, Mrs. Clover in a clean gingham frock, Mrs. Scraggs with much befrizzed hair and wearing a fussy, but crumpled, white waist with a lot of cheap jewelry, Mr. Scraggs, collarless, but with a clean shirt on, Mr. Clover and his big son respectable in light suits, Unc’ Aaron sporting the coat he kept for high days and holidays. No one knew where he had acquired this proud possession, of dark blue with brass buttons and decorated with braid; probably it was an old army coat which some one had given him. With it he wore a fancy waistcoat and whatever pair of trousers that happened to be in fair condition. He stationed himself by the gate, like a sentinel, ready to open when Chico and his escort should appear.
Promptly at five o’clock was heard the sound of fife and drum. The girls who had been sitting around in groups on the grass sprang to their feet and stood in rank. The gate was opened by Unc’ Aaron who bowed to the ground as Pablo appeared leading Chico gaily caparisoned. The little pony pranced and curvetted at sound of the music so close to his heels, arching his neck and tossing his head in great style. The Boy Scouts followed and drew up in line opposite the girls; Chico was halted between the lines.
Then Mr. Travis stepped forward and said: “Señor Don Chico, it is my privilege to present to you on behalf of your friends and admirers this medal for distinguished service and valor.” And he hung around Chico’s neck a remarkable decoration contrived from a tin can and a piece of red flannel. The tin was cut in points and perforated upon its surface were the words: “To Chico for valor.” Then followed the date. The flannel was cut in scallops and upon it was fastened the medal. A cord made of the flannel was attached to the whole.
After having hung the cord around Chico’s neck Mr. Travis stepped back.
“Why don’t you kiss him, or at least shake hands?” spoke up Joanne.