“What’s the name of these babies?” Bennie asked.
“Bing,” said the doctor.
“No, I didn’t ask you to play soldier. I asked you what’s the name of these cherries?”
“Bing, I tell you. Bing, B-i-n-g.”
“Well, it sounds like Bing,” Bennie laughed. “That’s a silly name for a cherry, but, oh, boy, some fruit!”
“You won’t be in any condition to eat that lunch when we get to Salem,” the doctor laughed.
“Soon’s I get there, and think about that old speech again, I won’t want any lunch, anyhow,” Bennie answered. “Might ’s well fill up now.”
The two cars rolled into Salem at noon. Salem is a small city, built around a large central park in which the State Capitol building stands. This park was now filled with roses, the bushes even growing in long rows between the sidewalks and the street. The doctor ran the car around this park, and then hunted up the camp where they were to be entertained by the Salem Boy Scouts. This was in a grove, just outside the town, and about fifty scouts were already there, with three or four fires going. As the two cars came up, the scout master gave a sharp command, the troops fell into formation, at attention, and there was a loud cheer of welcome as Bennie and Spider tried to climb out over the luggage gracefully. Poor Dumpling had a hard time getting out of his car, but not one of the Salem scouts laughed. In a few minutes, the scout master had presented the guests all around, and preparations for the luncheon began in earnest.
It was a good lesson in scouting, all right. Different boys had definite jobs, and they went at them quickly and efficiently. Sawhorses and boards were produced from a wagon, and made into rough tables. More boards, on boxes, made the seats. Paper plates, knives, forks, and spoons, and tin cups were put in place. The scouts who could cook best were busy at the fires. There was the smell of coffee, of broiling steak, of frying potatoes, and of flapjacks. Three or four of the scouts meanwhile were putting great dishes of fruit—berries and cherries—on the tables. In spite of all the cherries they had eaten, the smells made Spider and Bennie hungry again. They tried, of course, to help with the preparations, but the Salem scouts wouldn’t let them.
“No, you’re guests,” the scout master said.