Hank’s costume was the one that aroused the bitterest resentment. He was puffing at his black pipe and his bare feet and legs showed beneath his trousers which were rolled up to the knees. His flaunting insult was a soiled gingham apron which was tied about his waist and a faded sunbonnet which partly concealed his face. But this stinging affront was allowed to pass in dead silence.
The other costumes were less irritating, and reflected little originality on the part of the performers; an old political marching cap and cape, a poor imitation of an Indian, three guns, one sword with clanging scabbard, a woman’s beflowered bonnet, one boy with an infant’s nursing bottle, a great deal of colored chalk on hands and cheeks, and goose and chicken feathers generously ornamenting hats and caps, make a fair summary.
The crowning feature was more to the point. At the rear of the single file cavalcade came Tony Cooper, the Sammy Addington of the Goosetowners. Tony was dragging at his heels a fat, little yellow cur puppy. On each yellow side of the pudgy little animal this word had been inscribed with tar:
“WOLF”
A piece of twine encircled the puppy’s neck. Either frightened or in pain the dog was waddling along and pulling backwards with jerks and jumps. The unexpected salute by the leader of the Wolves, and Hank Milleson’s embarrassed return of it, created surprise in both groups of boys. Tony Cooper, at the end of the line, crowded forward to get the details of what was happening. As he did so, his mind off the captive puppy, the rolypoly little beast gave a new jump and the string came out of Tony’s hand. Like a big ball of yellow yarn, the “Wolf” leaped away with all his might. The captive had torn itself free!
Not even Patrol Leader Connie tried to keep his face straight. The Wolves roared with laughter as Tony lit out after his charge.
“Wolf too much for you, eh!” yelled one of the Elm Streeters. “Look out he don’t bite! Them wolves is fierce!”
Taunts came from others of the Wolf Patrol but Connie made no attempt to detect the culprits as he was yet laughing himself.
“Better cage him!” called another scout. “Take all of you to handle him!” was another yell.