“I know that he’s seen more or less service as a scout, and that counts for considerable, you know,” the patrol leader answered. “Somehow I haven’t happened to see enough of him at close quarters to say I know him real well. He’s a regular gymnast and contortionist, they tell me, and can hang from the highest limb of a tree by his toes without a quiver, climb like a regular monkey, stand on his head as well as walk on his hands or his toes as it pleases him. In fact, he’s a bundle of nerves, and can hardly keep quiet.”
“Perhaps you’ll be apt to know him better by the time you get back from this gay cruise,” Billy told him. “Don Miller seems to think he’s the best thing that’s struck the troop this season, and I reckon he ought to know. But isn’t there anything I could help you do in packing your outfit, Hugh? If I can’t go along myself, the next best thing is to have a hand in getting you ready.”
“Not a single thing left to do, Billy,” the scout master assured him. “You see, I made out this little list, taking along only what I must have. We got pointers about that from Lieutenant Denmead, who was afraid some of the boys would load themselves down with all sorts of truck from camping stuff to banjoes. I checked things off as I put them in my knapsack, and it’s all there with my blanket. When the time comes to say good-by, I’ll be ready to shoulder this and be off.”
Billy drew a tremendous sigh that seemed to come straight from his big heart. If he had ever been grievously disappointed in his life, it was right when Hugh and those seven other lucky fellows were about starting off on what promised to be a most glorious cruise on salt water, and he had to stay home all through those two long dreary weeks, just going along in the same old rut day after day with nothing exciting happening.
“There’s somebody ringing your ’phone bell like fun, Hugh!” remarked Arthur.
“That’s so, and I forgot that about everybody happens to be out now; so I’d better go and attend to it myself. Excuse me, boys, I’ll be back in a jiffy.” And with these words Hugh hurried into the hall where the telephone hung.
They heard him talking with some one, but paid little or no attention to what was going on. Arthur was examining some pictures he had run across on Hugh’s table taken by a cousin out West, which depicted cowboy scenes that stirred the blood of the boy, who loved life in the open. Billy on his part was studying the list mentioned by Hugh, which had a blue pencil check against every item; and he seemed so intent on this labor that one might even think he contemplated packing his own knapsack, waylaying the column somewhere, and forcibly taking the place of some other scout.
When Hugh came back, his face was shining and his eyes dancing so that both of the other boys guessed he must have been hearing some very pleasant news over the wire.
“Who was it, and what did they want?” asked Arthur with a chum’s familiarity.
“It was Lieutenant Denmead,” replied Hugh, still smiling broadly as he looked straight at Billy.