“Playing conductor, Gordon?” Dr. Brent asked cheerfully, as Gordon passed.
But it turned out that this was Gordon’s first maneuver in the direction of one of his own particular, genuine, original good turns (for not even Black Wolf himself, with all respect to him, could stand up with G. Lord in this particular phase of boy scouting). He hoped that no one but himself would remember the law which had just gone into effect in the State of New Jersey, prohibiting the public drinking-cup in railroad trains and elsewhere, and he made no answer to the jocular remarks of the boys, as he carefully folded the papers and tucked them away in his pocket.
When they reached New York and boarded the Oakwood train, there was the usual cooler filled with ice-cold water, but no glass. The day was very warm, and only one or two of the passengers carried drinking-cups. Then Gordon, in his element, went through the car, deftly rolling his paraffin papers into little cornucopias, and handing them with a word of explanation to the astonished passengers.
“I never even knew there was such a law,” remarked one old gentleman, to his companion.
“They’re a wide-awake lot—those Boy Scouts,” his friend replied.
“Thank you so very much,” said a young lady, taking the makeshift cup. “I’m dreadfully thirsty, too—you’re a public benefactor.”
“Let me fill it for you,” said Gordon, grinning delightedly. As he handed it to her, the train pulled into Oakwood, and before he had refilled it for her to enjoy a second draught, every member of the troop had left the car, and the train was puffing out of the station.
“Hurry up, my boy, train’s starting,” the old gentleman called cheerily after him; “you’ll have to jump.”
“That’s nothing,” Gordon answered, as he swung off.
Thus it was that Master Gordon Lord, Scout, missed his train by stopping to do a good turn, when he started away, and almost missed his station by doing another one, when he came home. The good turns had not lessened his pleasure in the least; one of them had opened the way for a variety of adventures, and, as he later remarked to a gentleman representing the National Council, who was visiting Oakwood, and to whom he had “recounted his adventures,” “The more you do of them, the more fun you have, and oh, cracky, I’m glad I met Miss Leslie that first morning!”