CHAPTER XXIV—A PROMISE
The next morning Billy Simpson was out early for a row on the lake before breakfast. The lake seemed to attract him like a magnet. But he always went either early in the morning or after dark, and usually alone, from a morbid shyness about showing his skill.
He dreamed about honors, and he had been betrayed into talking freely with Brent Gaylong about his hopes and plans. But he could not, he simply could not, show off. Of course, to let them see him row or paddle would not be showing off. But that was what he called it.
So the skill that he had cultivated on the river near his family’s country home was not known to the camp or even his own patrol. He was afraid that if he did anything publicly it might have a look of crudeness, an amateurish touch, in the eyes of these denizens of the woods and water. He had made a mistake about good turns and he was ashamed of himself for being what Brent called a “little” scout. He was ashamed at having brought a pocketful of beans to show him the way when he was lost. And a whistle! He was not going to put his foot into it in the matter of his skill with oar and paddle. Gaylong might come along and drawl out some criticism of an obvious defect. And Roy Blakeley! How he dreaded the uproarious banter of that embodiment of merriment. He had seen what Roy could do in the way of banter. No, not for him....
He paused on his way down to the lake to look at the bulletin-board. He always found much of interest there. And on this occasion he found something of preeminent interest. He had heard some talk of it in Patrol Cabin, but here was the official fact in black and white before him:
The canoeing event for the Mary Temple cup will be held on the lake July 27th. The cup, now held by the First Bridgeboro, N. J., Troop, will be defended by Conover Bennett, Patrol Leader, Elk Patrol, of that troop. Troops intending to enter the contest should register in Administration Shack not later than July 15 th.
So his own troop held this cup. Billy Simpson wondered where the cup was. He supposed it must be held by the Elk Patrol, since an Elk scout was to defend it. It was characteristic of him that he felt a bit chagrined that a contest involving his favorite form of outdoor exercise should be in preparation without regard to him. Of course his own morbid shyness was to blame for this, but the announcement hit him in a tender spot just the same.
One thing that this announcement showed him was that such contests were usually troop affairs. It was troop against troop and not patrol against patrol. Conover Bennett represented the troop.
Billy sauntered down to the lake, quite at odds with himself because of this little jar to his pride, which no one was to blame for but himself. On the float stood a solitary early riser, one of his own troop.
“H’lo Simpson,” said the latter, cheerily; “some day, huh? Out hunting for the early worm?”