Among these reflective ones was Alec Sands. Sitting on the ground beside Don Miller, he had listened attentively to the Scout Master’s proposition, and he had seen in it only an opportunity for additional rivalry between the two cabins,—which meant between Hugh Hardin and himself. For, by tacit consent, Hugh and Alec were regarded as the two principal leaders among the scouts.
To Alec,—who had gained his leadership of the Otter patrol by unquestioned ability in scout-craft rather than by virtue of the true scout spirit of kindness and equality,—rivalry meant a certain degree of hostility to “the other fellow.” Being the spoiled son and heir of a railroad magnate, Alec was inclined to consider himself a little above his companions. To compete with them was an act of condescension.
On the other hand, Hugh Hardin, though but slightly less favored by fortune, was by no means a snob. His patrol was made up largely of boys who had not come from homes of wealth, yet among them there was not one who would ever have suspected, from Hugh’s bearing, that he had been born with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth. Reserved and self-reliant as he was, he possessed an apparently inexhaustible fund of good-humor, energy, and ready sympathy with others.
The Scout Master’s plan struck a responsive chord in Hugh, to whom Alec’s personal view of it would hardly have occurred.
“Great idea! Don’t you think so, Billy?” he whispered.
“All to the good, chief.”
“Walt knows a lot about ordinary telegraphy, you know. That ought to come in handy and count several points for him.”
“‘Bud’ Morgan, in our patrol, worked with a surveying crew last summer. He learned most of the sig——”
“Cut it! The big chief has something more to say.”
After a brief pause, Lieutenant Denmead continued: