Adventure and adventurers -- Juvenile fiction; Boy Scouts of America -- Juvenile fiction
That was just it. He was an odd number among these boys and he knew it.
Fond of them as he had always been, and proud to be among them, he had
always been different, and he knew it. It was the difference between
Barrel Alley and Terrace Hill. He knew it. It had not counted for so
much when he had been a boy scout with them; good scouts that they were,
they had taken care of that end of it. But, you see, he had gone away a
scout and come back not only a soldier, but a young man, and he could
not (even in his present great need) go to Roy's house, or Grove
Bronson's house, or up to the big Bennett place on just the same
familiar terms as before. They thought he didn't want to when in fact he
didn't know how to.
"Phwen I hurd ye wuz in the war," Pete said, "I says ter meself, I
says, 'that there lad'll make a stand.' I says it ter me ould woman. I
says, says I, 'phwat he starts he'll finish if he has ter clane up the
whole uv France.' That's phwat I said. I says if he makes a bull he'll
turrn the whole wurrld upside down to straighten things out. I got yer
number all roight, Tommy. Get along witcher upstairs and take the advice
of Doctor Pete Connegan--get out amongst them kids more."
I dare say it was good advice, but the trouble was that Lucky Luke was
probably born on a Friday, and there was no straightening _that_ out.
As to whether he would turn the world upside down to straighten out some
little error, perhaps Pete was right there, too. Roy Blakeley had once
said that if Tom dropped his scout badge out of a ten-story window, he'd
jump out after it. Indeed that _would_ have been something like Tom.
Anyway the saying was very much like Roy.
CHAPTER VI
"THE WOODS PROPERTY"
When Tom reached the office he took a few matters in to Mr. Burton.
"Well, how are things coming on?" his superior asked him cheerily.
"Getting back in line, all right? This early spring weather ought to be
a tonic to an old scout like you. Here--here's a reminder of spring and
camping for you. Here's the deed for the woods property at last--a
hundred and ninety acres more for Temple Camp. We'll be as big as New
York pretty soon, when we get some of that timber down, and some new
cabins up.
"I'm glad we got it," Tom said.
"Well, I should hope," Mr. Burton came back at him. "That's off the
Archer farm, you know. Gift from Mr. Temple. Runs right up to the peak
of the hill--see?"
Tom looked at the map of the new Temple Camp property, which almost
doubled the size of the camp and at the deed which showed the latest
generous act of the camp's benevolent founder.
"Next summer, if we have the price, we'll put up a couple of dozen new
cabins on that hill and make a bid for troops from South Africa and
China; what do you say? This should be put in the safe and, let's see,
here are some new applications--Michigan, Virginia--Temple Camp is
getting some reputation in the land."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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