“This is Jack Harding, Elsie’s brother,” she said, “and, Jack, this is my boy Jim. I hope he can persuade you to stay to lunch with him.” Then she shut the door and left the two together.
When she went back at noon, she found the boys deep in the mysteries of knots. Jim looked up, his homely little face full of pride.
“Jack is learning me to tie all the different knots,” he cried, “and he’s going to learn me [‘teach,’ corrected Jack softly]—yes, teach me everything I’ll have to know before I can be a Scout. Jack’s a second class Scout—see his badge? We’ve had a bully time, haven’t we, Jack?”
Suddenly his head went down and his heels flew into the air as he turned a somersault. Coming right end upwards again, he looked at Laura with a doubtful grin. “I—I didn’t mean to do that,” he stammered. “It—just did itself—like——”
Jack’s quick laugh rang out then. “I know. You had to get it out of your system, didn’t you?” he said with full understanding.
That was a red-letter day to Jim. He kept his visitor until the last possible moment, and stood at the window looking after him till the straight little figure in khaki swung around a corner and was gone. Then with a long happy breath he turned to Laura and said, half apologetically, half appealingly, “You see a fellow gets kind o’ hungry for boys, sometimes. You don’t mind, do you, Miss Laura?”
“No, indeed, Jim. I get hungry for girls the same way—it’s all right,” she assured him. But she made up her mind that Jim should not get so hungry for boys again—she would see to that.
After a moment he asked thoughtfully, “Why can’t boys be Scouts till they’re twelve, Miss Laura?”
“I think because younger boys could not go on the long tramps.”
“Oh!” Jim thought that over and finally admitted, “Yes, I guess that’s it.” A little later he asked anxiously, “Do you s’pose they’d let a fellow join when he’s twelve even if he is just a little lame?”