He rose to the spirit of it. He was glad that the great event was some weeks removed. He was sorry he could not begin practising, but he derived satisfaction from the thought that he could practise after the first of August. August first and August tenth loomed large in his thoughts now. He wrote home urging his mother and sister to come up for the big event. Each day he went down and scrutinized the bulletin board for new entries. He acquired something of the scout’s way of talking in his familiar references to awards and troops and patrols.
“I see the Beavers from Detroit have entered that fellow Lord,” he told Charlie O’Conner. “His name ought to be Ford, coming from Detroit,” he added.
“We should worry,” said Charlie confidently.
“They’re all wondering what I’ll look like in the water,” Wilfred said.
“Let them wonder; maybe you’ll go so fast they won’t see you at all.”
“I’m a little bit scary about that long-legged fellow in the Seal Patrol,” Wilfred said. “That name Seal kind of haunts me. Ever seen a seal swim?”
“We’re not losing any sleep,” said Johnny Moran.
“You haven’t noticed that we’re losing our appetites from worry, have you?” Connie asked. “When I look at that scarf pin of yours that’s enough for me.”
“Well,” said Wilfred, talking rather closer to his promise than he had ever done before. “After the—oh, pretty soon I’ll start in practising a little. After the first is time enough.”
“Oh, sure,” agreed the simple and elated Charlie O’Conner; “only I’d practise down the creek, hey, where nobody’ll see you? We’ll keep them all guessing.”