The Wolf Patrol: A Tale of Baden-Powell's Boy Scouts. Finnemore John. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Finnemore John
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of dirty, ragged wharf-rats. I think we should look a lot of idiots if we did.'

      'Now, Mr. Elliott,' said Billy, 'what do you say?'

      'Not a word, Billy,' replied Mr. Elliott quietly. 'Not a syllable. This is a thing for the patrol to decide for themselves.'

      There was a short silence, then Billy murmured gently:

      'What do you think, Mr. Elliott, that B. – P. would say if he was here?'

      Mr. Elliott smiled, and shook his head. He was not to be drawn that way.

      'I'll tell you this much, Billy,' he remarked, 'that I think he would do exactly as I am doing – leave it to the patrol. The very foundation of the thing, you know, is to teach you to stand on your own legs.'

      'Why not vote upon the question?' suggested Dick Elliott; and the idea was received with a burst of applause.

      'Yes,' said Mr. Elliott, 'that's a good plan. Hold a secret ballot, so that every member of the patrol may feel quite free to express his real feelings. We can soon arrange that.'

      He took a sheet of plain foolscap from his writing-table, and carefully divided it into eight equal pieces, and gave each boy a piece. From the mantelshelf he took a tall china vase, and placed that on the writing-table.

      'Now,' said he, 'I propose that each of you shall go out in turn to the hall table. There you will mark your papers. A circle means that the voter is willing to meet the boys from Skinner's Hole in friendly contest; a cross means that he is not willing. When a paper is marked it will be folded across the middle with the mark inside, brought back, and dropped into the vase. In that way the ballot will be perfectly secret, and you may freely express your feelings.'

      There was deep silence as the boys voted in turn according to their patrol numbers. The party in the study kept their backs to the writing-table, so that a voter was not even seen to drop his paper in, and within five minutes the eight votes were in the vase which served as ballot-box.

      The boys looked on eagerly as Mr. Elliott fetched the vase after No. 8 had voted and returned to the group of his comrades.

      'First of all,' said Mr. Elliott, 'I shall shake the vase well, so that the papers may be thoroughly mixed up.'

      He did so, then held the vase upside down, and the papers fell out. He opened them one after the other. There were six circles and two crosses. It was an immense majority in favour of Chippy's challenge.

      'Six to two,' announced Mr. Elliott. 'The Wolf Patrol is willing to meet the Ravens from Skinner's Hole.'

      'Then they'll meet them without me!' burst out Arthur Graydon, his face scarlet with rage, for he had quite expected to carry the patrol with him. 'I shan't be patrol-leader any longer!'

      He whipped off his badge and flung it on the table, and was gone before anyone could stop him or remonstrate with him. He snatched his cap from the stand in the hall, and was out of the house in a flash. The Wolf Patrol had lost their leader!

      'That's Arthur all over,' murmured Billy Seton. 'He's frightfully shirty. But I didn't think he'd hook it.'

      'Oh, he'll think better of it when he's cooler,' said Mr. Elliott. 'We'll get on with our game. But I'll say that I'm quite with you in your decision.'

      'Half a minute, please,' said Reggie Parr, flushing to the roots of his hair. 'I'm going to come out into the open. The other cross was mine. But I don't want to leave the patrol.'

      'You needn't leave it, old man,' cried Billy Seton. 'We should be jolly sorry to lose you.'

      'I'll run with the rest,' jerked out Reggie. 'But I shouldn't like to stop and keep quiet about the cross.'

      'It's forgiven! It's forgotten! Come to my arms!' sang out Billy, and pretended to embrace his comrade as a lost sheep returning to the fold. This caused much laughter, and the Wolf Patrol, save for their lost leader, were completely reunited, and plunged into Kim's game with great earnestness.

      CHAPTER VIII

      THE PATROL-LEADERS

      A few days later Dick Elliott was standing outside a shop in Bardon High Street waiting for his sister, who was inside. He was on his way to a party, and so was dressed in full fig, a thing he hated very much, but had to put up with on such occasions.

      Presently a second boy came along the pavement towards him. It was Chippy, with a big bundle under his right arm. Chippy looked at the smart figure staring into the shop-window, and recognised it.

      'One o' them Wolf toffs,' thought Chippy. 'I wish I'd a chance to slug 'im now. I'd soon knock 'is top-'at in the gutter.'

      The vengeful Chippy was staring at Dick's glossy silk hat and irreproachable gloves, when Dick looked up straight into the other boy's face. At the next moment Chippy was taken utterly aback, for Dick stepped forward and gave him the full salute. Chippy could scarcely believe his own eyes when he thus received the honours of a patrol-leader.

      But he tucked his bundle between his legs, for the pavement was dirty, returned the salute, and proffered his left hand.

      'Wot cheer, brother!' murmured Chippy in his husky whisper, for he could think of no more appropriate salutation.

      'Oh, I'm all right,' said Dick. 'How are the Ravens getting on?'

      'Peggin' away,' returned Chippy. 'We done most o' the things out o' them books.'

      'Ah!' said Dick. 'Now about that challenge. When would you like to try a friendly turn against us?'

      'Any Sat'day arternoon,' cried Chippy eagerly. 'Yer would meet us, then? Yer leader ain't agin us now?'

      'Well, it isn't the same leader,' replied Dick. 'The leader you saw has left us. We tried to get him to come back, but he wouldn't come. I'm the leader now.'

      'Good, good!' said Chippy gleefully. 'Wot about nex' Sat'day at three, up at yer sandpit?'

      'Yes, I think I can arrange for that,' returned Dick.

      'We'll be there, an' proud to come,' said Chippy, whose face shone again with pride and satisfaction. 'An' we'll put up the best we know to gie yer a good practice.'

      'We shall get all the practice we want if there are a few more like you among the Ravens,' laughed Dick.

      'A bit of luck,' said Chippy modestly, 'that wor all. Well, I must get on. I'm in a job now, an' goin' on an errand. An' when yer at work, there's Law 2 to reckon with – playin' a straight game wi' yer boss.' So the patrol-leaders gave each other the full salute, and each went their way, for Dick's sister was now waiting for him.

      'Who's your friend, Dick?' asked his sister. 'He looks like a ragged errand-boy.'

      'That's just what he is,' replied Dick; 'but he is also a brother scout, and so I was doing the civil.'

      'Good gracious!' said his sister. 'I didn't know boys like that were in it.'

      'They run in all shapes,' replied Dick, 'as long as they run straight.'

      CHAPTER IX

      THE WOLVES AND THE RAVENS

      On the next Saturday afternoon, accordingly, the Wolf and Raven Patrols fraternized in the old sandpit on the heath, and Mr. Elliott attended as umpire. The boys were far from being strangers to each other, for they had often met before in a slugging match, but all such foolish old feuds were laid aside, and they prepared eagerly for a friendly struggle in this most fascinating sport of scouting.

      'Now, Slynn,' said Mr. Elliott to the leader of the Ravens, 'as your scouts are the visitors, I think you ought to have the choice of the game at which to challenge the Wolf Patrol.'

      'Well, sir,' said Chippy, 'wot about "Scout meets Scout"? I think that 'ud suit us, if it 'ud suit the Wolves.'

      'Yes,' said Mr. Elliott, 'that would give you some good fun. And, as it happens, that is a game I have been thinking over. I believe you would enjoy it better still if you combined it with hunting. You've all got a ball apiece, haven't you?'

      Yes, everybody had a ball of some sort, and all were listening eagerly to the instructor. Mr. Elliott drew