BLAKELEY, LOST, STRAYED OR STOLEN

CHAPTER I—LAW AND THINGS

One thing, anyway, I wouldn’t say anything against the scout laws because they are good laws, that’s one sure thing. Even fellows that disobey them have to admit that they are good. If there weren’t any we couldn’t even disobey them, so gee whiz, I’m glad they are in the Handbook. That’s what they are for.

I don’t mean we want to disobey them. But anyway, this is what I mean, that even fellows that disobey them ought to be glad they are there, because if they weren’t there they couldn’t disobey them. That’s what Pee-wee Harris calls logic. He says he knows a lot about logic, because his uncle has a friend whose brother is a lawyer.

There are twelve of those laws, and the one I like best is law number eight, because it says a scout has to be cheerful and smile a lot. I always smile except when I’m asleep, and I’m not asleep much, because a scout is supposed to be wide awake. When I’m asleep I never disobey any of those laws.

I’ll tell you some more about the scout laws, too, only this isn’t going to be a law book, you can bet. A scout is always supposed to do a given task. His dinner is a given task. He’s supposed to do a good turn every day. Maybe you think those are hard, but they are easy. If a scout in my patrol had some gumdrops and I ate half of them so he wouldn’t get sick, that would be a good turn. See?

A scout is supposed to save life, too. Once I saved Wig Weigand’s life. He nearly died laughing at Pee-wee Harris, and I got there just in time to push the kid off the springboard into the water so he had to stop talking. That’s one thing I’m crazy about. I don’t mean talking, I mean swimming.

Especially a scout is supposed to be observant. That’s one thing about the scouts my sister doesn’t like. She’s crazy about tennis, my sister is; tennis and strawberries. She’s crazy about Harry Donnelle, too; he’s a big fellow. That’s why she doesn’t like it about scouts being observant—I should worry.

But anyway, you needn’t think that scouts are always smiling. Lots of times I laugh, he he, but I’m not happy. That’s because we have a lot of trouble on account of not being able to keep our meeting place in one spot very long. Gee williger, Washington had a lot of headquarters and we only have one headquarters, but we have our headquarters in as many places as he did. Gee, there are a lot of people that have to move these days, but they don’t have to move the houses they live in, that’s one good thing. When you have to take your house with you, that’s no fun. Housing problems are bad enough, and transportation problems are bad enough. And besides, I hate problems anyway, especially in arithmetic. But, gee whiz, when you get a housing problem and a transportation problem all rolled into one-good night!

CHAPTER II—MORE THINGS (I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO CALL IT)

Now that chapter was about law and this one is about geography, kind of. Maybe I’ll have one about civil government, too. I bet you’ll skip that one, hey? Anyway, I’m glad we don’t have uncivil government in school, because I guess that’s worse. There’s a civil engineer in our town and he’s not so civil. A scout has to be civil, that’s another law.

I guess before I tell you any geography, I’ll tell you some history. That’s my favorite study—history. I got nine points in that last term.

A couple of years ago, Mr. Temple, he’s rich, he owns a lot of railroads—a couple of years ago he gave us an old railroad car to use for a scout headquarters. That car used to stand on a side up at Brewster’s Centre, and it was used for a station until the railroad built a new station.

Then Mr. Temple told the railroad people to bring it down to Bridgeboro, where we live, but instead of doing that they took it ’way out west by mistake. Anyway, we were glad because we happened to be in it. I said, “I don’t care how far it takes us as long as it doesn’t roll down the Pacific slope and dump us in the ocean.”

We had a lot of fun riding around the country in that car, because the railroad made a lot of dandy mistakes, and it was pretty nearly a week before we came rolling merrily, merrily on we go, into Bridgeboro. Good night, that was some ride. That shows you never can tell, because everybody said they never thought that old car had enough spirit to break loose and go tearing around the country. It had a kind of a fit, that’s what Westy Martin said; he’s in my patrol. The reason all that happened was because there was some kind of a mistake on a way-bill. That way-bill did us a good turn, all right.

So after we got back home all safe and sound, that old car stood on the tracks down at the Bridgeboro station and all the commuters were laughing at it. A lot we cared, because even people laughed at Christopher Columbus when he got home.

So now I’m going to leave that old car standing on the tracks at Bridgeboro station, because I have to go downstairs to supper. Oh, boy, I hope the six thirty-four express doesn’t come along and bump into it while I’m eating. I bet you’re all nervous and excited, hey?

CHAPTER III—PEE-WEE STARTS THE BALL ROLLING

I guess the railroad men weren’t going to take any more chances with that car. Anyway, they put it on a track and then Mr. Corber—he’s section superintendent—he asked us what we wanted to do about the car. He asked us where we wanted it put. Believe me, that wasn’t an easy question to answer, because you can’t put a railroad car anywhere you want to put it. A railroad car is like a scout, because it can follow a track, but if there aren’t any tracks how is it going to get anywhere? But one thing, you can bet we didn’t want to have our scout meeting place down right next to the railroad station, because scouts are supposed to study nature and a lot of fun we’d have studying commuters.

Pee-wee said, “The station is all right; I vote to leave the car right where it is.”

“That’s because it’s near Bennett’s,” I told him, because he usually parks all through vacation at Bennett’s Confectionery. He’s the one that put the scream in ice cream. Harry Donnelle endowed a stool in Bennett’s just for Pee-wee—it’s kind of like a bed in a hospital or a scholarship, or something or other like that.

The rest of the fellows said, “No, siree, the river for us! We want it moved down near the river! Let’s move it to Van Schlessenhoff’s field!”

Now comes the geography part; it’s about Bridgeboro and that field. Mr. Van Schlessenhoff had a lot of land but he cut it all up. It’s a wonder he didn’t cut his name up, too, hey? He could have got a whole lot of nice little names out of it. Once he owned most all of Bridgeboro, that man did. He owned nearly the whole alphabet, too. Jimmy, he takes up nearly the whole telephone book, that’s what Connie Bennett says.

Years and years and years and years and years and years ago—even before I was born—that man’s father had a sawmill down by the river. He never said anything but just sawed wood. When he died he was awful poor. He didn’t leave anything to his son but his name, that’s what my father said. Gee whiz, that was enough.

Anyway, Mr. Van Schlessenhoff is a mighty nice man. He owns some lots and things, and he wouldn’t sell one of his fields for the town to build a school on. So you can see from that what a nice man he is.

He owned that field down by the river that we were talking about. There is an old railroad track from that field right up to the Bridgeboro station, so they could send lumber away. It’s all old and rusty and broken in lots of places, and the piles are all kind of rotten where it goes across Cat-tail Marsh. Up in town it’s all buried in the dirt, sort of, but you can see the old rails good and plain