George A. Warren - The Banner Boy Scouts

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The Banner Boy Scouts

Or The Struggle for Leadership

By GEORGE A. WARREN

THE WORLD SYNDICATE PUBLISHING CO.
CLEVELAND, O. NEW YORK, N.Y.

Copyright, MCMXII

by CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY

_Printed in the United States of America_

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I A Meeting in the Barn

II What it Means to be a Boy Scout

III The Disappearing Coins

IV The First Scout Leader

V Checking a Coward

VI A Strange Suggestion

VII The Trap that Peleg Set

VIII Turning the Tables

IX "Well Done, My Boy!"

X An Unexpected Offer

XI Caught Napping

XII The Rival Troops

XIII "Fire!"

XIV Jack's Chance

XV The Honor Brand

XVI The Fire Test

XVII Clearing Skies

XVIII Carlo Does His Turn

XIX The Warning Over the Wire

XX Such Glorious Luck

XXI The Meeting

XXII Scouting in Earnest

XXIII The Red Car

XXIV A Call for Help

XXV A Camp in the Woods

XXVI What Woodcraft Told

XXVII Ted Finds Something

XXVIII Forced to Tell

XXIX The Capture

XXX Found Out at Last

XXXI Well Done, Stanhope Troop!--Conclusion

PREFACE

My Dear Boys:

Knowing that ninety-nine lads out of every hundred love outdoor life
above all else, I have taken it upon myself to give you a series of
what I hope will prove to be clean, wide-awake, up-to-date stories,
founded upon a subject that is interesting our whole nation--the Boy
Scouts of America. You know what a hold this movement has taken upon
the rising generation of our broad land. There never was anything like
it before--there never may be again.

At first many people made the mistake of believing that it was simply a
new military order, and that boys who joined were to be taught the duties
of soldiers, and learned how to fight. They know better now. It is really
the greatest movement for Peace ever started. Not only that, but the lads
who belong to this vast organization are taught how to be manly, self
reliant, brave, courteous, kindly and steadfast.

When you examine the roster of the officers who have loaned their names
to help along the good cause you will find such honored signatures as
those of President William Howard Taft, ex-President Theodore Roosevelt,
and many others dear to the hearts of our boys.

This glorious field opens up a very tempting opportunity for a series of
stirring stories concerning the fortunes of _real_ Boy Scouts, who have
gone into the movement heart and soul, with a desire to excel in all they
undertake; and at the same time enjoy themselves hugely. I only hope and
trust that you may be pleased with what you read in this book, about the
doings of the Red Fox Patrol, of Stanhope Troop, and that the story
will do you much good.

Yours faithfully,

George A. Warren.

THE BANNER BOY SCOUTS

CHAPTER I

A MEETING IN THE BARN

"All here now, Paul!"

"Call the roll, somebody, won't you?"

"Keep quiet, fellows, please!"

"Shall I strike a match, Paul?"

"Not on your life, Bobolink. That crowd of Ted Slavin's is out, looking
for us. Somebody must have leaked, or else Ted was tipped off. We've got
to be mighty cautious, I tell you, if we want to give them the slip."

"S-s-say, d-d-don't you k-k-know we've got a fi-fine b-b-barn on our
p-p-place, fellows?"

"For goodness sake; won't somebody please pound Bluff Shipley on the
back, and make him bite his twisted tongue, so he can talk straight?"
cried a pleading voice.

"Listen!"

There must have been a streak of authority in the tone used by Paul
Morrison when he spoke this last word; every one of the other six boys
crouched there, craning his neck, and listening to catch the unusual
sound that had apparently reached the trained ears of their leader.

The woods surrounded the boys on all sides, gloomy, and full of
mystifying noises.

Yet Paul knew full well just what every one of the sounds meant. An owl
called mournfully to its mate from a hollow tree. Katydids and merry
crickets added their shrill music to the chorus of that late summer
night. Even a colony of tree frogs solemnly chanted their appeal for
"more rain."

During the day just ended six fellows in the thriving town of Stanhope
had received urgent telephone calls from Paul, who was an only son of the
leading doctor in the place.

And each boy had promised to meet him at the Three Oaks by the time the
clock in the church steeple had struck eight.

It was even now booming out the hour.

When the last stroke died away, the most impatient among the gathered
boys moved restlessly.

"Follow me, fellows," said Paul, in a low, thrilling tone.

"Where are we heading for?" queried one, who had as yet failed to express
his feelings in the matter.

This was Wallace Carberry, the sober member of the pair known far
and wide as the Carberry Twins; his mate, William, being his exact
counterpart in every particular, when he chose to repress the
good-natured grin that usually marked his fate.

"To the Shipley barn; single file; and silence is the watchword!"

Paul Morrison had long enjoyed the confidence of his comrades in most
matters pertaining to outdoor sports. A healthy lad, both in mind and
body, he was never so happy as when studying the secrets of Nature in
wood and meadow; or in playing any of the various strenuous games to
which all boys with red blood in their veins are addicted.

And when he sent out his mysterious request that some of his most
intimate friends meet him on this night, as he had a communication
of importance to put up to them, the greatest curiosity made itself
manifest.

Paul never suggested ordinary things. More than once he had engineered
some game that brought honor and glory to the boys of Stanhope; and
remembering these satisfactory "stunts" of old, it was no wonder these
fellows had come to the place of meeting without a single exception.

With Bluff Shipley close upon the heels of the leader, and Robert Oliver
Link, whose name had long since been corrupted into Bobolink, bringing
up the rear, the seven lads trailed through the woods, following some
path with which they were evidently more or less familiar.

Several times Paul gave a recognized signal that caused every one of the
bunch to stop short, and turn his head on one side in the endeavor to
discover whether hostile footsteps could be heard in their rear.

But although there were doubtless many rustling sounds, the boys laid
these to the bright-eyed little denizens of that strip of woodland. Too
often had they watched the chipmunks and red squirrels hunting for nuts
under the already falling leaves, not to know that the forest was peopled
with these harmless animals.

After five minutes more there loomed up before them the dark outlines of
a huge barn that seemed rather out of place here on the border of the
woods.

This belonged to the father of Bluff, who, being a prosperous tobacco
grower in this valley, used the place to cure the product of his broad
fields, after it had been harvested in the fall.

Paul had been carrying some sort of package in his hand, and the boys for
some time amused themselves in guessing its nature. When he took off the
paper it stood revealed as a lantern, ready for lighting.

"Show us the way inside, Bluff. Then we'll have a little light on the
subject," remarked the leader, with a last anxious searching look around;
as though he still entertained suspicions that their march to the old
barn might have been observed by some of the hostile Slavin crowd.

Ted Slavin had long been known as the bully of Stanhope; for it seems
that there never yet existed a village or town without some big chap
exercising that privilege. He was a fighter, too, and able to hold his
own against the best. Besides, Ted had shown some of the qualities that
indicate a natural leader; though he held the allegiance of those who
trailed after him mostly through fear, rather than any respect for his
manly qualities.

His leading crony for the past year had been Ward Kenwood, son of the
wealthy banker who was also a leading real estate owner in the place.
Once upon a time Ward would have scorned the thought of associating with
Slavin and his crowd; but an occasion had arisen whereby he had need of
a strong arm to even up a score, and once he found himself indebted to
Ted he kept on in the bully's company.

His rivalry in many fields with Paul had much to do with his throwing his
fortunes in with the other fellows. And nothing pleased him more than to
be able to upset any calculations the latter entertained. That explained
why Paul was anxious to avoid a meeting with the Slavin crowd on this
particular night, when he was brimming over with a great idea.

Once the boys had entered the barn, Bluff secured the door, after which
a match was quickly lighted.

"Now, here we are, safe and sound, and not an enemy around. Suppose you
open up, Paul, and get this load off our minds," said Albert Cypher, who
seldom heard his own name among his friends, but was known far and wide
as Nuthin'.

But what else could a lad expect who was so unfortunate as to find
himself afflicted with such a name as A. Cypher?

"Yes, what's it all mean, Paul? You haven't even taken me in, you know,
and I'm as much in the dark as the next fellow," remarked Jack Stormways,
reproachfully; for being Paul's closest chum he might have expected to
share his confidence.

"Wait a bit. We might as well make ourselves comfortable while we're
about it. I'll sit down on this box, and the rest of you gather around on
the floor. I've got a big proposition to make, and you want to listen
carefully."

"T-t-take c-c-care of the lantern, f-f-fellows; my d-d-dad's w-w-wanting
this old barn f-f-for his t-t-tobacco crop, and he'd b-b-be some put out
if it b-b-burned just now!" came from Bluff.

Finding perches on various low piles of waste left over after the
shipment of the last crop, the six lads gathered around Paul, eagerness
stamped on every beaming face.

"Now, what's the idea that struck you this time, Paul?" demanded
Bobolink.

"I'll tell you without any beating around the bush, fellows. The thought
came to me that Stanhope was away behind the times. Other towns not
nearly so big, have one or more troops of Boy Scouts. Why shouldn't we
get up one here?" and Paul waited to hear what the response would be.

The six who sat in a ring looked at each other as though stunned by the
proposal. It was strange, indeed, that no one had up to this time taken
a lead in advancing such a thing.

"Bully idea, Paul!" ejaculated Jack, slapping a hand on his knee
enthusiastically, as though it appealed to him most decidedly.

"Well, I declare, to think that nobody ever mentioned such a grand
movement before. Count me in right from the start!" said Wallace
Carberry--sober Wallace, who usually measured his words as though they
were golden.

"And me too," observed Bobolink.

"Ditto for William!" called out the other Carberry Twin, grinning with
delight.

"G-g-guess I'd make a bully good t-t-tenderfoot!"

"That's the best thing you ever thought up, old chap," came from Nuthin'.

"Hurrah! every county heard from, and not one contrary word. It looks
as if there might be something doing right soon around this region,"
declared Paul, naturally pleased because his proposition had met with
such unanimous satisfaction.

"Tell us more about it, please. I've read about the Boy Scouts; but my
mother would take a fit if she thought I was practicing to become a
soldier. You see, I had an older brother, who enlisted to go out with
some of the boys when we had our little fuss about Cuba and the
Philippines; and poor Frank died in camp of typhoid fever. I'll have a
hard time winning her over, and the dad, too," remarked Bobolink, sadly.

"Well, that's where you make a big mistake, Bobolink. Over in England,
where the Boy Scout movement started, it has some connection with the
army, because there, you see, every fellow expects at some time to serve
his country as a soldier, or on board a naval vessel. But here in
America, the movement is one for peace."

"Then what's all the doings about?" asked Nuthin', as if puzzled.

"I know, and Paul is right about it," came from Wallace Carberry, always
quite a reader of newspapers and magazines.

"Let him tell then. I'm for the game, no matter what it means," cried
Bobolink.

"And I think Bluff knows something about it, for he said he would do for
the lowest grade of scout, which is the tenderfoot. But I don't think any
of you are qualified to take even that degree; for a tenderfoot must
first be familiar with scout law, sign, salute, and know what his badge
means; he must know about our national flag, and the usual forms of
salute due to it; and be able to tie some seven or eight common knots.
How about that, Bluff?"

"N-n-not guilty!" promptly answered the one addressed.

"Say, that sounds interesting any way. Tell us some more about this,
Paul!" exclaimed William, always eager to hear of anything that smacked
of novelty.

"Well, there are two more degrees a fellow can climb up to, a
second-class scout, and a first-class scout, full fledged. After that, if
he wants to keep right on there are merit badges to be won for excelling
in angling, athletics, camping, cooking at the campfire, taxidermy, first
aid to the injured, handicraft, life saving, path-finding, and a lot
more."

"Now you've got me stuck on this new game," cried Bobolink, excitedly.
"The more you explain the better I like the idea. Me for the Boy Scouts,
fellows!"

"Hear! Hear! Paul, the idea is yours, and we vote unanimously that you
occupy the exalted position of scout master--I know that every troop has
to have such a head, and you're better fitted for the job than any fellow
in town!"

"Yes," laughed Paul, "but unfortunately, I believe a scout master has to
be over twenty-one years of age."

"Who knows the ways of the open like our Paul? He's the right man in the
right place. Say, are there any books on the subject, that we can get,
and learn more about this thing?" asked Wallace, who seemed to be
particularly well pleased.

"I've already sent for a manual, and expect it by to-morrow; when we can
find out all about it. But wishing to be posted when I put the question I
went over the river to Aldine to-day, and saw some of the boys there who
belong to the Scouts. They made me more anxious than ever to start a
patrol in our home town."

"But I've seen something about a troop?" remarked Jack Stormways, who,
Paul thought, seemed unusually sober for a boy ordinarily light-hearted.

"Yes, a troop takes in say, three local posts called patrols, each of
which has eight members. It is known by a number, as Troop One of Boston;
and each minor organization takes a name of some animal, such as wildcat
or fox. If it is called Fox, every boy belonging to it is supposed to be
able to bark like a fox, so as to be able to signal a comrade while
scouting in the woods."

"Ginger! but that does sound interesting," declared William.

"It's j-j-just immense, that's w-w-what!" was Bluff's opinion.

"Listen! I heard a laugh as sure as anything!" exclaimed Paul, lifting a
hand to indicate silence; and every one of the group assumed an attitude
of expectancy.

As they waited there suddenly came a tremendous crash, as some object
landed forcibly against the wooden side of the old barn. It was instantly
followed by a second bang, and others came quick and fast, until the
noise might be likened to a bombardment from a hostile battery.

"It's the Slavin crowd!" called Bobolink, excitedly jumping to his feet.
"They followed us here after all, and have been listening to every word!"

"All hands to repel boarders!" shouted Paul; and with a cheer the
seven boys rushed over to the door, out of which they sprang, bent
on retaliating on their tormentors.

CHAPTER II

WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A BOY SCOUT

"Where are the stone throwers?" shouted the merry member of the Carberry
Twins, as he danced up and down, eagerly trying to discover some moving
object in the surrounding darkness.

"Gone like smoke, I guess," laughed Paul, who had really expected
something of this sort, judging from past experiences with these same
tormentors.

"Look there, I can see something moving yonder. Get ready to give a
volley!" cried Nuthin', pointing as he spoke.

"H-h-hold on, f-f-fellows, d-d-don't fire yet! It's only our old d-d-dun
cow!" gasped Bluff, excitedly; as he waved his arms up and down after the
manner of a cheer captain at a college football game.

"They've lit out, that's what," grumbled William, who felt as though
cheated.

"All right, then. It's just as well, for a fight would be a mighty poor
way of preparing to join the scout movement. You'll learn what I mean
later on when you hear the twelve points of the law that every fellow
must subscribe to," observed Paul, seriously.

"What d'ye mean, Paul?" demanded Bobolink, quickly.

"Yes, tell us right now what the twelve rules are," said William.

"I know, for I read all about them a few days ago," remarked Wallace,
readily.

"All right, then, suppose you call them off. What does a scout promise to
be if allowed to wear the uniform, Wallace?" asked the leader.

"To be trustworthy, loyal, helpful to others, friendly, courteous, kind,
obedient to his superiors, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean and reverent."

"Why, it doesn't say a single word about fighting!" ejaculated William.

"Because a scout must never fight save as a last resort, and then only to
save some weak one from punishment. He must be brave to face danger, to
stop a runaway horse; or jump in and keep another from drowning. Do you
get on to the meaning of this movement, fellows?" asked Paul, eagerly.
The more he read about it the greater became his desire to have a hand in
organizing a Stanhope troop that might compete with those of Aldine and
Manchester, two rival towns, both on the opposite side of the Bushkill
River, the former a few miles up-stream, and the latter the same distance
down.

"We do, and I tell you I like it better and better the more I hear of
it," said Jack, earnestly. "Why, I just had an idea it meant being junior
soldiers, and drilling so as to be ready to invade Canada, or repel the
yellow peril when the little Japs swarmed across the Pacific. Count me
in, Paul."

"If I can pass the examination I'm going with you, sure," observed
William.

"All right, but if they take you in just remember that you've got to quit
your playing tricks on everybody, William," declared the other Carberry
Twin.

"Listen to him, will you? He's feeling hard on me just because dad gave
him a touch of the cane last night, thinking it was me. As if I was to
blame for looking like my brother," the other said, plaintively, though
chuckling at the same time.

"You know you fixed it so he'd pounce on me. I'm always in hot water
because you must have your fun. 'Taint fair, and I'd have to be an angel
not to kick. Oh! I hope you get to be a scout, because then I'll have
some peace," declared Wallace; but all the others knew very well what a
deep and abiding affection there really lay between the Carberry Twins.

"Let's go home now. No use staying any longer out here, with Ted Slavin
and his cronies hanging around, ready to bombard us again. Besides, I
guess Paul wants to wait till he gets his book before telling us any more
about the game."

"Right you are, Nuthin'. I only wanted to see how the land lay, and if
you took to the idea. I'm satisfied already that it's going to make a
hit, if we can get a few more fellows to join in with us," said Paul.

"I know one good recruit I can drum up--Tom Bates," spoke up Albert.

"And a good addition to the seven now here. That would make our first
patrol," echoed the leader, quickly.

"How about inviting some of the Slavin crowd to join us?" asked Bobolink.

"Well, perhaps we might pick a couple there; but I think you'll have to
be getting up early in the morning to manage it," replied Paul,
meaningly.

"What's that?" asked William.

"Just this. Ted Slavin has heard our plans. You know that he never likes
to see anybody else pull down the plums. What will he do right away,
fellows?"

"Go and see his shadow, Ward Kenwood, and get him to put up the money to
start the ball rolling. My word for it that inside of a week there'll be
two rival Boy Scout troops in little old Stanhope," remarked Jack
Stormways.

"Say, that would be great, if the other crowd only acted on the square,"
ventured William. "We could have all sorts of contests between us. But
I know Ted Slavin too well to believe he'll ever subscribe to the twelve
rules Wallace mentioned. Why, he'd have to be made all over again to do
that."

"Look here, Paul, if a fellow has to live up to the rules, however could
the members of Ted's company be taken into a troop of Boy Scouts?" asked
Bobolink, who always sought information.

"I don't believe they ever could. Still, there's no law in the land to
prevent any lot of boys from forming a patrol, and calling themselves
scouts. That's my way of looking at it," was the answer the leader gave.

The lads were now on their way home, the lantern having been secured, and
extinguished, lest it invite another bombardment on the part of their
tormentors, doubtless still hovering somewhere nearby.

No further attack came, however, for which some of them were possibly
sorry, particularly William and Bluff, who delighted in strenuous action
at all times.

On the border of the town the seven separated into three groups, the
twins going off arm in arm, Bluff, Bobolink and A. Cypher forming
another; while Paul and his particular chum made up the third.

"Well," said Paul, as they headed for the house of his comrade, which
chanced to come before his own, "what do you think of my scheme, Jack?"

"Immense, that's what. I'm only astonished that nobody else took up with
the idea before. Poor old Stanhope seems to be away behind the times,
Paul."

"Well, I don't know. We've had lots going on this summer to take up our
time; and then most of us were away during part of the vacation. There
are other towns just as slow to catch on," returned the other, loyal to
the place of his birth.

"But now that the ball has been started rolling, just watch how fast it
gathers force. I know how you go at these things. And of all the fellows
I ever met, you are the one best fitted to lead in this thing, if I
understand the game right. Why, it's just going to fit in with the things
you've preached and practiced for years."

"That's why it appealed so strongly to me, after I really understood what
the many duties of a scout were supposed to be. But what's the matter
with you, Jack?"

"Eh? With me? Oh, nothing much, Paul."

But the other knew better, for he had noticed a frown come over Jack's
usually smiling countenance more than once that evening, when the other
thought he was not observed; and from this Paul felt positive his chum
was worrying about something.

"Of course, if you think it best not to take me in on it, I'm the last
one to bother you, old chap," he went on, when Jack interrupted him.

"It wasn't that, Paul, not in the least. To tell the truth I've been
thinking it over, and just about made up my mind that I must tell some
one, or I'd never sleep easy. And of all my friends you're the one
closest to me. Yes, I'm going to confess that there is something that
puzzles me, and fills me with alarm."

"Say, is it as bad as that, Jack? But how is it you don't want to go to
your own folks? You've got one of the best dads I ever knew, and your
mother, well, few are in the same class with her."

"That's just it, Paul. I'd hate to have either of them know anything
about this trouble."

Paul swung his friend around so that he could see into his face; for they
were just passing a street lamp at the time.

"Oh! I can look you in the eyes, old fellow. It isn't anything
disgraceful I've been doing, not at all. But you see," and again that
frown darkened Jack's brow as unpleasant things presented themselves
before his mind's eye, "it's a family affair, I'm afraid, and must be
kept quiet."

"Now you _have_ got me to guessing good and hard. Suppose you tell me
what it's all about. I hope your brother, Karl--" and there Paul stopped,
for by instinct he seemed to feel that he had guessed the truth the first
shot.

Jack had given a huge sigh that seemed to well up from his heart.

"Yes, it's about Karl, only I do hope that it will prove a false alarm,
because I just can't believe he'd do such a rotten thing," the other went
on, slowly.

"But he's only a little fellow after all, Jack?"

"That's so, but old enough to know better. You shall hear it all, and
then perhaps you'll advise me what to do," went on Paul's chum, with
a vein of relief in his voice, as though he felt better already, after
deciding to share his trouble with another.

"That's right, and you know that it goes no further, Jack."

"Karl got into some mischief a week ago, and to punish him father cut off
his allowance of spending money for a whole month. Now, Karl belongs to a
boys' club, and I heard that at their last meeting the other day he paid
up his dues, and seemed to have plenty of money. The question that is
bothering me is, where did he get it?"

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