The Boy Scouts' badge of courage

by John Henry Goldfrap

“They’re coming this way,” announced Tubby, who with Sim and Andy doubtless had already “sensed” what was in the air, for all of them were smiling broadly, and casting significant looks toward the plainly annoyed Rob.

Mr. Jeffords led the dozen citizens straight up to where the little group of boys stood, while a crowd pressed close around to hear what was said.

“This gentleman,” began Mr. Jeffords, “is Mr. Perkins, our worthy mayor, and these others are business men of Wyoming, some of them owners of the costly mills and factories that have been saved from destruction through a brilliant and bold scheme. I have explained to them that though the dynamite that saved the town belonged to me, and while it was my son Ralph who drove the car to the farm to secure it, still the conception of the grand idea was wholly Rob Blake’s. They want to congratulate you, my boy, on your bright thought, and to thank you publicly for having been so instrumental in saving our town from utter destruction.”

Rob opened his mouth to protest, but the stout mayor waved to him that he had a few words to say; so the boy shrugged his shoulders and held his breath. If they were so insistent, how was he to help himself? Nevertheless, he could not think it fair that more of the credit should be placed at his door than was given to resourceful Ralph, who, once given the hint, had engineered the whole thing.

“I want to thank you, Rob Blake,” said the mayor, squeezing the boy’s hand in his chubby palm, “in the name of all our people. Only for your quick wit and ready brain we might at this minute be witnessing the destruction of all our thriving industries, and Wyoming would have been as thoroughly blotted out as some of those poor Belgian and French communities have been before the vandal guns of the warring Nations. And while I am about it I mean also to thank Ralph Jeffords because of the valuable aid he gave once you conceived the scheme of blowing up that building. Yes, let me also shake hands with these other three lads here who wear the khaki, for I feel sure that had you not been present, one of them would have discovered some way to accomplish the same purpose you had in view.”

Even Tubby blushed at the compliment. Plainly, then, these good people of Wyoming were of an entirely different mind concerning those who wore the khaki. Not so very long since, according to Ralph, and they had settled in their minds that scouts were an undesirable organization in a community, just because the first attempt to raise a troop had been a failure, owing to the wrong sort of leadership, and the poor class of lads enlisted under the colors.

“It may be that you boys have heard about the failure that overtook a troop of scouts started in our town some time back,” continued the mayor, and at that Rob began to show much more interest than when he himself had been the object of attention. “But some of us are now of the opinion that we were wrong in condemning all wearers of the khaki because our own lads failed to equal our ambitions. I am sure I voice the sentiments of this entire community when I say that after having this lesson brought home to us we realize that we have made a great mistake. For one, I am in favor of urging that a troop of scouts be started here in Wyoming without delay, founded on the broad and noble principles of your order; and here and now I pledge you that my two boys shall become charter members. And I also hope very much that Ralph Jeffords will consent to take this enterprise in hand. All in favor of this say aye!”

There came a unanimous shout from the assembled crowd, who had been listening in absorbed attention while the mayor was talking.

After that other gentlemen came up, desirous of shaking hands with the boys who chanced to be visiting at the Jeffords’ farm. Evidently the story of how the scouts had been instrumental in tracking the lost child, and restoring little Caleb to his nearly distracted mother may have been brought to the town, for several of the men mentioned something about it as they warmly greeted Rob and Sim and Andy and Tubby.

With such a wonderful background as that still burning section of the town the picture was a striking one, which Tubby felt sure he would never, never forget. He was particularly pleased that they had cornered Rob, because on more than one former occasion Tubby had known the patrol leader to slip away after having been instrumental in accomplishing things worth while, just because he could not bear to hear people making him out to be more than an ordinary boy.