Roy Blakeley

“ Don’t ever borrow trouble, but get to be a patrol leader, and you’ll have troubles of your own. Then you can pick out the one you want and I’ll drown the rest. After that I’ll tell you about the grand drive in Little Valley.
First in the Silver Fox Patrol comes Roy Blakeley—that’s me. I’m patrol leader and I’ve got eleven merit badges. I’ve got two sisters too. One of them is crazy about the movies.
I’ve got seven scouts to look after and Captain Kidd, the parrot—he’s our mascot. Our patrol color is green and he’s green with a yellow neck. He’s got one merit badge—for music. ”

“ I’d scout pace it if I did anything.”
He said, “The Bridgeboro Record will have the whole thing to-night. I bet they have me down as Roy Martin and you as Westy Blakeley. That’s the way they usually do.”
The kid said, “Are we going to see that bandit? Has he got a sword?”
I said, “You stick to us and maybe you’ll grow up to be a nice train robber.”
He said, “We’ll rob mail cars, hey?”
“Sure,” I said, “and female cars, too. All kinds, take your pick.”
He said, “If we live on that car can I be the captain of it?”
I said, “You can be the brakeman. That’s the man that breaks all the windows.” ”

“ I like you better than any fellow—even Westy—and—please wait a minute—even Skinny. It's too late—Bert."
He said, "Blakeley, we have two chances—just two. You know the third law. I don't tell you what you've got to do, Blakeley. That's your business—but listen." He put his hand on my shoulder and his voice was all husky. He said, "Blakeley, if I don't make it, you'll have my body to ease the shock for you. People—people will be here to-morrow— you'll get out. It's getting in we have to think about. ”

“ Westy said. That fellow is always thinking about school.
"We should bother our heads," I said. "Here we are; even the Supreme Court couldn't deny that."
"They don't have to deny it, we admit it," Connie said.
"We'll stand on our rights!" Pee-wee shouted. "We'll stand on our he——"
PEE-WEE WAS SHOUTING ON THE ROOF OF THE CAR—"THEY'RE ALL RED HOT!"
Roy Blakeley's Camp on Wheels. Page 207
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"Sure, we'll stand on our heads," Wig said. "Anything to please you."
"Our hereditary rights!" the kid yelled.
"All right, get up and stand on the top of the car," I told him, "and shout. ”

“ Blakeley, referring to Blythe. “I think he’s out of luck and rather discouraged. He doesn’t say much. I think he took this job in desperation not knowing exactly how he was going to go ahead with it. He expects to get three hundred dollars for what he’s undertaken. He means to divide evenly, he said, but of course that will leave him with only twelve dollars, if the whole troop goes 27 up. He doesn’t seem to have any grasp of things at all. ”

“ Nimbly, as silently as a panther, Roy retraced his steps to the shack. For a few minutes Warde stood alone, waiting, conscious of Roy’s experience and superiority in those more active arts of the scout. He had not the slightest knowledge in which direction Blythe had gone and his patrol leader was going to wrench this knowledge from the darkness. Off in the distance the unearthly voice crooning and whining in the night. The very air seemed charged with something impending. ”

“ MR. FERRETT’S TRIUMPH
Roy’s injury was but a strained ankle. For a moment he seemed dazed and unable to realize what had happened. That the whole collapsed roof had been held above him by superhuman effort of Blythe only dawned on him when he saw the bleeding, unconscious form of his friend lying clear of the wreckage, Doc Carson kneeling by him, the others standing silently about. It did occur to Roy, as odd thoughts do come in tense moments, how pleased and content Blythe would be could he but know that “Doctor Cawson” was in attendance. ”

“ In a kind of daze Roy saw the bright spot near the empty balsam couch, saw his companion’s quick, silent movements, saw the scouts lying asleep in the dim light. Then all was darkness within and he saw no more.
“Did you feel in the pockets?” Roy asked as they betook themselves through the darkness to a safe distance. He still whispered, though there was no need of it now. He was nervous, agitated.
“No, I’m not in that line of business,” said Warde.
“I guess he’s Claude Darrell all right,” said Roy. “What shall we do? Try to find him? There’s that voice again. Do you hear it? ”

“ Roy ejaculated, “we wouldn’t even steal a cent, that’s why we haven’t any sense; deny it if you dare.”
“We can sell papers at the station,” Westy said.
“Sure, the Saturday Evening Post,” Roy said. “We can do golden deeds and get gold that way. We should bother our young lives. What care us, quoth we? We’ll think of a way. All we need is fifty dollars to put tar-paper on the roof and a new cook stove in the car.”
“Money talks,” the kid shouted.
“Good night!” said Roy, “then we don’t want any of it. You do enough talking in this troop.” ”

“ So suddenly did this happen that Blythe had scarcely braced himself over Roy’s body when both were buried under the fallen debris. Nor had the scouts at the edge of the roof wholly escaped; several who had not jumped quickly enough and far enough received slight cuts and bruises from the falling timbers. ”

“ And these fellows–your own patrol–they can prove what you say–”
Roy was almost sobbing. Pee-wee certainly held the floor–or the road.
“The men–Mr. Ferrett–they know better than we do, Kid. Blythe is the one whose picture–”
“You say yes or no,” Pee-wee demanded in a voice of thunder. “They lifted him off where you were caught and so now you’re alive and you can speak. Is he a murderer or isn’t he?”
Roy was going to pieces. The little scout whom he had always found it so easy to jolly, towered over him. The tiny Raven was become a giant. “I–no he–no he isn’t–he isn’t, Kid,” Roy stammered. ”

“ One came from East Bridgeboro, two came from Ennistown, one came from Northvale, one came from Little Valley, and two came from Sloan Hollow. There were seven troops and nineteen patrols. We have three patrols, so that makes twenty-two. There were a hundred and seventy-nine appetites altogether.
They all wanted to know what was the big idea, so I got up on a grocery box and made a speech. General Blakeley inspiring his troops. Oh, boy!
I said, “Scouts, that old railroad car over near the station belongs to us. It’s our trooproom. It has to be moved on this old track down to the river. ”

“ Bagley, I said, “Are you one of the people that wouldn’t sell it to Temple Camp?”
He said, “Oh, goodness no!” just like that. He said those were the heirs and there were a lot of them. But he said anyway, he was the real heir. Jiminies, I felt sorry for him. He was mighty nice, just sitting there and talking to us like that. He said he liked boys, especially Scouts, and he said only for a tragedy that happened, Temple Camp would have all that land.
Oh boy, you should have seen Pee-wee’s eyes open—that’s his middle name, tragedies. He eats them alive. ”

“ Roy said.
“Pee-wee can manage them,” Westy observed.
“Oh sure, all you have to do is to know how to manage them,” commented Connie. “They can’t come too savage for our young hero.”
“He can even tame wild flowers,” Roy said; “lions–dandelions and tiger-lilies and everything. He eats them alive.”
“Speaking of eating, how about the stew?” Artie Van Arlen asked.
“It has to stew for an hour,” Roy said. “Somebody get out the tin plates; be prepared, that’s our motto. All the comforts of home. Where’s your home?” he asked Blythe in a sudden impulse. ”

“ Then he said, kind of smiling, "I suppose we can trust this good little scout not to repeat out talk to anyone."
Mr. Ellsworth began to laugh, then he said, "Oh, yes, indeed; all good little scouts are to be trusted. That's what Roy, here, would say is their middle name. Am I right, Roy?"
I guess that made it kind of easy for the fellow, for he started right in, though I could see it was hard for him to say it. He said, "My pal had quite a little sum of money in his jacket, which we can't seem to find now. It was buttoned into a flap pocket. ”

“ Weak, uncertain, queer he may have been, and a failure into the bargain. Shabby and all that. But his smile haunted them now; he had been their comrade, their friend, their champion.
“Something always gets in the way when you try to swing a big good turn,” Roy mused.
“It takes Pee-wee to manage the big ones,” said Warde.
118“Poor kid,” Roy said.
Again neither spoke. A loose board creaked somewhere in the darkness. A crude little weathervane, the handiwork of some departed soldier, rattled nearby.
“Listen,” said Roy. “Do you hear that voice again?” ”

“ The birds were busy in the neighboring willow tree, and a fish flopped out of the glittering water as if to remind them that some of the pleasures of vacation time were left to them.
“Hello, old car!” said El Sawyer of the Ravens, as he tossed the duffel bag through a broken window. “I hope we have enough in the treasury to get that window put in.”
“We should worry,” said Roy.
“There’s a lot of fun not having any money,” said Pee-wee.
“We ought to have plenty of fun then,” said 166 Westy. “This old car has got the County Poorhouse turning green with envy.” ”

“ Roy said. “That was when I was a second-hand scout.”
“They ought to be called the Nickel Foxes, that’s what all the scouts up at Temple Camp say,” Pee-wee shouted. “Because none of them ever have more than five cents.”
“The Raving Ravens haven’t got any sense,” Roy came back. “Five is twice as good as nothing.”
“That shows how much you know about arithmetic,” Pee-wee retorted.
“It’s good the boss isn’t here,” Warde said, “or he’d laugh himself to death.” The boss was what they always called Blythe. ”

“ They worked frantically pulling away the fallen boards and beams, Grove Bronson with a handkerchief wound around his bleeding hand, 143 Wig Weigand with a great bruise on his forehead. Pee-wee strove like a giant. Soon the form of Blythe was revealed, braced by his hands and knees, and Roy lying prostrate beneath him.
“How are you?” one of the scouts called.
“All right,” Roy answered; “my foot is caught under the flooring.” ”

“ Gee whiz, that’s the way it is when you have a bad name.
I said, “Westy Martin and I were the ones who had to go to the station. We’re the ones that are accused if anybody is.”
“Yes, but you kids never started that fire,” he said. “You’re just protecting somebody. They’ll have young Slausen behind the bars by this time to-morrow. He and Bert Waring are a good pair. I guess young Waring wanted to see his Buick burned up all right. Charlie’ll clear up a couple of hundred dollars or so on his little flivver. I hope he’ll pay me the three dollars he owes me when he gets his insurance. ”

“ I don’t see how we’re going to take his measurement; we don’t want to make him suspicious.”
117“It’s funny how he never speaks about his past,” said Roy.
“Anybody can see there’s something funny about him,” Warde said. “What he said about the robin makes me think that if he committed a murder he was probably crazy when he did it. Maybe he doesn’t even remember that he did it.”
“You can’t say he’s crazy,” Roy protested.
“I know I like him,” Warde said; “I just can’t help it. I like him now. Maybe he isn’t smart, but he’s always thinking about us. He’s for the scouts good and strong. ”

“ Gee, it was a dandy farm.
“How can anyone ever accuse this place of being haunted?” asked the Maniac. “I think it’s a picture.”
“Let’s go up to the hay loft,” said Pee-wee. “I can see lots of hay through this big door.”
“Be careful, that’s all I’ve got to say,” said Westy.
“I suppose it’s all right for us to climb up, we’re not hurting anything, or breaking anything, what do you think, Roy?” asked Warde.
“I think it’s all right, we’re just having some fun, or honest pleasure, (oh what’s that saying again?) and I don’t think anyone’s mean enough to begrudge us our fun.” ”

“ It’s Blythe’s picture, isn’t it?”
“You’re patrol leader and I’m a second class scout,” said Warde. “What do you say to do?”
“What do you mean, a second class scout?” Roy demanded, his voice full of feeling. “I don’t want any better scouts in my patrol than you. I’m asking you what we’re going to do.”
“All right, I’ll tell you,” Warde said. “We’re going to keep still until we’re dead sure. We know what kind of a fellow Blythe is, and they don’t, I mean the sheriff and police and those people. We know he’s a good friend. ”

“ Warde said. “I was reading in the old scout handbook [2] how you can tell where people come from by their talk. If a person belongs in Canada he’ll say Monreal instead of Montreal. He’ll say Tranto instead of Toronto.”
“Yes?” urged Roy, hopefully.
“That’s all,” Warde said. “He doesn’t talk as if he came from up that way. But the notice didn’t say he belonged there, it only said he was wanted there. The way he spoke about the robin was what got me. I can’t make him out at all.” ”

“ On passing the shack on which they had last been working, he said, “That’s where I found the robin, under that floor. Hollender thought I would kill it. He thinks I’m that kind.” Then he laughed. Warde said nothing.
135They got him back to his couch, where he almost immediately fell sound asleep. After ten minutes or so, when Roy entered to look at his bare heel in the brightness of his flashlight, he was breathing heavily, wrapped in the sleep of utter exhaustion and oblivion. The diagonal mark seen in his foot imprint was plainly noticeable as a scar on his heel. ”

“ Westy said. “Do you go up in that?”
“I guess I’ll walk,” Blythe said.
“Well, we’ll be up there to-morrow, sure,” 24 Doc Carson reassured him; “some of us anyway. Even if we don’t come to stay we’ll be up there, so you look for us.”
“I’m fair and square,” Blythe said. “When you come you can look the place over and then say–”
“You should worry about that,” Roy interrupted him.
“Maybe your people–”
“You leave our people to us,” Roy said. “My father believes in camping and fun–he inherits that from me. Scouts know how to pick out fathers all right.” ”