“That ain’t all, neither,” retorted Connie. “Most o’ the Coyotes work over to the table factory. They’re a-givin’ it out that the factory folks is goin’ to send their patrol up to the state fair to march in the big parade carryin’ a banner sayin’ ‘Scottsville Tables.’”
“Well,” remarked Willie Bonner who was with the boys, “isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Sure,” answered Art. “Only, I kind o’ thought that we’d mix a little. Now they don’t seem to know we’re on earth. I ain’t jealous of ’em, only I wish they knew we was still doin’ business.”
The last week in July an annual religious camp meeting opened a session on its grounds fifteen miles from Scottsville. To the surprise and joy of the Wolves they were invited to attend the opening and participate in the “young people’s outdoor program.” A few days before the event it was learned that the Coyotes had also been invited and what was more to the point, that their employers had given them the day off.
“I’m bully glad they’re goin’,” said Davy Cooke at the first gathering of the Wolves. “That’s better’n drinkin’ beer an’ stealin’ horses. An’ I reckon,” he added, “it’ll be a case o’ the prodigal son. When the fatted calf is barbecued, the Coyotes’ll probably get the choice cuts.”
“You ain’t sorry, are you?” laughed Willie Bonner as usual. “I kind o’ think you fellows have had your share o’ calf an’ other good things.”
“Sorry?” exclaimed Connie. “Of course not. We don’t want any the best of it. But we’re gettin’ tired o’ playin’ second fiddle.”
“All we want,” broke in Art, “is an even break.”
When the eventful day came, sure enough, the Coyotes boarded the same train. Both patrols entered the same car. There was a volley of jocularity, good-natured salutations and then some mixing of fellow scouts. There had certainly been a revolution in the Goosetown representatives. Shining shoes, scrubbed faces and hands and freshly ironed shirts and ties were as general among the Coyotes as the Wolves.
“Now you watch ’em,” whispered Art to Connie when the camp grounds were reached. “All the women an’ the preachers’ll take ’em up. An’ they’ll head the procession—you’ll see.”