“Now?”
“To-morrow, maybe. Well, here comes the gang!” He turned away as the crowd of campers, all in swimming togs, trooped on to the dock, and at the sound of his whistle the swim began.
Blackie sported about the water happily for the remainder of the period. He was quite pleased with himself for having thus been singled out by his leader for swimming ability. Tired of circling about the life-boats, he began ducking less experienced swimmers and pushing boys off the dock into the water, until he was reprimanded for this conduct by Lieutenant Eames because of the danger of someone slipping and injuring himself against one of the piles or the superstructure of the dock. This scolding made him sulky, and he swam by himself until the whistle blew, and then tardily walked up to the tent, stopping many times on the way to chase butterflies or to hunt for snakes among the rocks; and thus, when he finally reached the tent, he found his comrades working busily. All the beds were made except his own, and under the direction of Ken Haviland, the boys were sweeping and arranging, cleaning the tent lantern, putting their lockers in order, and tidying up the place.
“Where have you been?” the aide greeted him. “Snap out of it and get dressed and make your bunk and get ready for inspection. Wally had to go up to leaders’ meeting at the lodge.”
“Aw, don’t make such a fuss,” said Blackie. “I’ll do it, won’t I?”
“Yes, but we have only a couple minutes before inspection. If the tent isn’t in apple-pie order, we don’t stand a chance to win the pennant to-day.”
“Well, what if we don’t? What’s the good of having an old pennant in front of your tent? It don’t get you anything.”
“But don’t you see it means that the Tent Four bunch are the best campers? When you’re here longer you’ll learn not to waste time talking back when we have a chance to show our stuff.”
Without haste, Blackie peeled off his swimming suit and cast it on the floor, dressed with tantalizing slowness, and with a scowl at the aide, began to make his bed. He knew that Haviland was angry and thought it a good chance to get the tall camper’s “goat.” In the midst of his preparations the call came down the line, “All out of tents for inspection!” Haviland and the others jumped outside and lined up at attention, but Blackie delayed to try and shake his blankets into shape. Just as he stepped outside, Mr. Colby, one of the councilors and a scoutmaster known for his strictness, came along with his inspection staff.
“Tent Four! Two demerits for having a camper inside the tent after inspection call. The tent seems to be in pretty good shape, but there’s a wet bathing suit in the middle of the floor, and one bunk that isn’t made. Sorry, Haviland—but this will give you so many demerits that you’ll probably get the booby prize to-day! Any excuse?”