“Mebbe we’d better tell the camp meetin’ folks we’ve reformed too,” suggested Connie.
“That’s no joke,” replied Art. “The original Boy Scouts,” he went on with a smile, “will soon be back numbers.”
“Cheer up! Cheer up!” exclaimed Willie Bonner who was also resplendent in hat and khaki, “you ought to be proud of your work.”
As predicted by Art, while the camp grounds committee gave all the scouts a cordial reception, it lingered with the reformed Goosetowners. And also as predicted, when the camp grounds band set out for the big tabernacle, the Coyote Patrol held the right of line. Then came the “ancient and honorable” Wolf Patrol, gay and resplendent in spite of some secret jealousy, and, after these, various bodies of boys and girls, Christian Endeavorers, Sunday School classes, Young Men’s Christian Association representatives and Willing Workers.
When the procession reached the assembly hall, speeches of welcome were made; there was a short address extolling the work of the young people and some special remarks on the Boy Scout movement. When the speaker told how the Boy Scout idea “brings all classes of boys together, the rich and the poor, and levels all to one plane of comradeship and equality,” Art nudged Wart Ware and whispered:
“Unless you’ve been a real tough. Then it seems to level you up on top o’ the other fellows.”
“And now,” concluded the speaker, “as appropriate to this day’s outdoor program, it is my pleasure to announce that the association has provided a number of beautiful prizes to be awarded the winners in an athletic contest—‘track events’ I believe you call them. Of course these events are open to all our young friends. But, I feel sure,” he added with a beaming smile, “that none of us will be surprised if all the prizes are captured by our young athletic friends and guests, the Boy Scouts of Scottsville. We will now adjourn to the recreation field.”
If the fourteen Wolves had each and instantly swallowed a lump of ice the chill that each felt at these words could not have been more pronounced.
“It’s a put-up job,” whispered Sammy Addington.