Skinny looked up at him and said, "I got it—I dived and got it—see—I saved it—I didn't eat it. I can swim under the water. Now can I have the badge?" Cracky, the way he stared, if I'd had the badge, I'd have torn it off my arm and handed it to him, honest I would.
Mr. Ellsworth just looked at him and said, "No, you may not have the badge. Before you can have the badge for swimming you must be a better scout. You must learn to be obedient. You heard one of your patrol tell you not to go under water. You heard your patrol leader tell you to get into the skiff. Do you think you know better than they do, what is best for you?"
Even still he didn't pay any attention, he was so excited. "Now am I a hero?" he said.
"No, you are not a hero," Mr. Ellsworth told him; "and you will go inside and get your uniform on. The first duty of a scout is to obey his leader, and you have failed to do that. You are very much mistaken as to the meaning of heroism, and it wasn't necessary to bring us any proof that you got the candy or whatever that is. Scouts are not in the habit of lying and deceiving. We expect always to believe you without proof. Throw that away and go inside and get your clothes on."
Gee, maybe he was right, but anyway, I felt mighty sorry for Skinny. His eyes were all full of tears and he went over to the rail and threw the sticky jaw-breaker out into the water. I I could see by his neck that he was gulping and trying not to cry and, oh, boy, it made me feel bad. It seemed as if it was always that way with him—that he had to be disappointed and that things never came out right with him. Anyway, I said to myself, it's Connie's fault, and all the rest of the Elks are to blame, too. Why didn't they tell him in the beginning about those other things. All they cared about was showing their new member off to the rest of the troop, and you see how it ended.
First I thought I'd go in and talk to Skinny and tell him he was a wonder, for that was just what he was, and Mr. Ellsworth knew it, too. Then I decided that I'd better not on account of Connie. And anyway, I wouldn't have any right to go in and spoil what our scoutmaster said, would I?
CHAPTER XI
TELLS YOU HOW TO GET TO TEMPLE CAMP
Gee whiz, I wouldn't say anything against the Elks, that's sure, because they're all peachy scouts when you come right down to it, but I have to admit that they're crazy about stunts. They have more merit badges in their patrol than there are in the Ravens and Silver Foxes put together. Hunt Ward's sleeve looks like one of those Indian totem poles, there are so many badges on it. Anyway, I should worry, we have twenty-two badges in our patrol, and more good turns in the troop book than either of the other patrols. That's what counts, too—good turns.
The trouble with the Elks was that every time they got a new fellow, he must take a header for some badge or other and most always he would have two or three stunt badges (that's merit badges, you know) waiting for him when he passed his first class tests. "Begin at the beginning," that's what Mr. Ellsworth always said, and he says it's more important to know the scout oath and follow it, than it is to get the eagle, award. Connie's a good patrol leader all right; gee, nobody can say he isn't, but he's crazy about stunts and merit badges. He always seemed to think that that was all there was to scouting. But believe me, there's many a girl wears a sailor hat who screams when she gets in a boat. Anyway, I'm not going to be knocking anybody.