“Come here, my boy,” he heard, and stepped forward reluctantly, standing before the speaker with a kind of bewildered, startled expression, with one hand against his hip in an attitude that was characteristic of him.
“My boy, you have heard this gentleman’s letter. It is said of him that he is very good at reading character. That letter was answered, others were passed, and his generous, big-hearted offer has been accepted. A great good turn has been done to the Boy Scout organization. In summers to come, many poorer boys will enjoy the freedom of the open woods; many troops from the heat and turmoil of the great cities will be taken to the beautiful country whence you have lately returned, to track and stalk and study nature; and they must thank not only this kindly gentleman, but you who gave him the incentive.
“He has asked you to receive a gift at his hands in grateful acknowledgment of a deed of heroism. This you saw fit to decline. We have told him that your own will must govern this case. There is no reason why you should not, under the peculiar circumstances, accept his gift, my boy. Your scoutmaster hopes that you will do so. I hope you will do so. But we cannot order you to accept. Perhaps you have some friend, learned in the scout law, who will influence you.” (Side glances at Gordon from the troop.)
“There sits among your patrol now the boy whose life you saved. Among those other boys” (indicating the Hawks) “there sits another boy whose life you saved at imminent hazard of your own. I will not embarrass you by rehearsing the circumstances. Your whole summer has been filled with exhibitions of resource, with credit and honor. Your fellow-scouts have asked that you be awarded the highest honor we can give you. There is an award, my boy, the highest possible award for service and heroism, which may be granted to a scout who has saved life at the greatest risk to himself.
“I have come here, Arnold, to award to you this medal, the Golden Cross. It is the highest testimonial you may win, the highest that any scout may win.”
As he spoke, a white ribbon glittered in his hand. This he pinned on Harry’s right breast. It formed a spotless, snowy background for a golden cross with the full badge of the scouts superimposed upon it.
Red Deer stepped forward and grasped Harry’s hand. And it was plain to see why the boy had stood slightly turned from the audience, for his eyes glistened. He shook hands with them all as they crowded about, delighting to honor him, but he was too overcome to speak. Brick Parks pushed Swift and Waring aside, landing a cordial pound on Harry’s shoulder. Gordon worked his way in and grabbed both his hands.
“Come with me just a minute, my boy,” said Mr. Danforth. He put his arm over Harry’s shoulder, and guided him through the throng and out of the building. “I want you to see my daughters. I saw them go out—to escape the crowd, I suppose—oh, yes, here they are.” He led the way to a big red touring-car, where a familiar voice greeted Harry.
“I suppose he deduced that we were waiting out here. Oh, I want to congratulate you—do let me see it!” He handed the medal to her, and it was passed about and examined by all the occupants of the auto. “It’s no more than you deserve” Miss Crosby said, and added, whispering: “You will accept the boat, won’t you? Oh, please do!”
“Perhaps I’ll walk up to-morrow and we’ll fight it out on the tennis court,” said Harry.