Читать книгу Roy Blakeley's Adventures in Camp - Percy Keese Fitzhugh - Страница 3

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Maybe you fellows will remember about how I was telling you that our troop had a house-boat that was loaned to us for the summer, by a man that lives out our way. He said we could fix it up and use it to go to Temple Camp in. It was a peach of a boat and took the hills fine—that’s what we said just to jolly Pee-wee Harris, who is in our troop. He’s awfully easy to jolly, but he doesn’t stay mad long, that’s one good thing about him.

But one trouble, that boat didn’t have any power, and it wouldn’t even drift right on account of being almost square. Westy Martin said it was on the square, all right. He’s a crazy kid, that fellow is. Anyway, the boat didn’t have any power. Our scoutmaster, Mr. Ellsworth, said it didn’t even have any will power. We couldn’t even pole it.

When we first got it, it was way up a creek in the marshes and Mr. Donnelle (he’s the man that owned it) took us there and showed it to us. Just as we were coming near it, a fellow jumped out of it and ran away through the marshes. We said he must be a tramp, because he was all ragged. Anyway, he acted as if he was scared, that was one sure thing.

“We should worry about him, anyway,” I said; and Mr. Donnelle said he was gone and that was the end of him.

But, believe me, that wasn’t the end of him. That was only the beginning of him. I didn’t say anything more about him before, because I didn’t know, but believe me, that fellow was—what do you call it—you know—destined—to cause a lot of trouble in our young lives. That sounds like a regular author, hey? Destined.

When we began fixing the boat up, we found that one of the lockers was locked with a padlock and as long as the boat didn’t belong to us, we didn’t break it open, especially because there were plenty of lockers besides that one. I bet you’d like to know what was in that locker. But you’re not going to find that out yet, so there’s no use asking. All the time we thought Mr. Donnelle had the key to it. But, oh, just you wait.

Well, after we got it all fixed up, we couldn’t decide how we’d get it down into the bay and then up the Hudson to Catskill Landing. That’s where you have to go to get to Temple Camp. Temple Camp is a great big scout camp and it’s right on the shore of Black Lake—oh, it’s peachy. You’ll see it, all right, and you’ll see Jeb Rushmore—he’s camp manager. He used to be a trapper out west. You’ll see us all around camp-fire—you wait. Mr. Ellsworth says this story is all right so far, only to go on about the boat. Gee, I’ll go faster than the boat did, that’s one sure thing, leave it to me. But after we got down into the Hudson we went fast, all right. Let’s see where was I?

Oh, yes, we were wondering how we’d get to camp in it because we didn’t have much money in our troop, on account of being broke. Poor, but honest, hey? And it costs a lot of money to be towed and an engine would cost a hundred and fifty dollars. Nix on the engine, you can bet. But, oh, boy, there’s one thing Mr. Ellsworth said and it’s true, I’ve got to admit that. He said that good turns are good investments—he says they pay a hundred percent. That’s even better than Liberty Bonds. You don’t get it back in money, but you get it back in fun—what’s the difference?

Well, we did a good turn, and oh, believe me, there was some come back!

One day a tug came up our river on its way up to North Bridgeboro. That’s where the mill is. And there wasn’t anybody there to open the bridge so it could get through. Oh, wasn’t that old tug captain mad! He kept whistling and whistling and saying things about the river being an old mud hole, and how he’d never get down the bay again, unless he could get through and come down on the full tide. Oh, boy, but he was wild.

When we told him that old Uncle Jimmy, the bridge tender, had sneaked away to a Grand Army Convention, he kind of cooled down on account of being an old veteran himself, and then some of us fellows fished up an old key-bar that had been lost in the river and opened the bridge with it. That’s what they call the thing you open the bridge with—a key-bar. It’s like a crow-bar only different.

I’m not saying that was so much of a good turn, except it was turning the bridge around and Connie Bennett said that was a good turn. He’s the troop cut-up. Anyway, old Captain Savage took me up to North Bridgeboro with him and first I was kind of scared of him, because he had a big red face and he was awful gruff. But wait till you hear about the fun we had with him when we landed and took a peek at Peekskill. Oh, boy!

Then he said how he liked the way we stood up for Uncle Jimmy, and I guess besides he was glad about me diving and getting the key-bar, but anyway, that was easy. So he said he was going to tow us up as far as Poughkeepsie the next Saturday, and that if we refused on account of scouts not being willing to accept anything for a service, he’d make a lot of trouble for Uncle Jimmy, because he was away. He was only fooling when he said that. Maybe you won’t like him in the beginning, but you’ll get to like him pretty soon.

So that’s how we got it all fixed to go to camp, or part of the way anyway, in the house-boat. And believe me, we had some trip, and that’s mostly what I’m going to tell you all about. Talk about fun!

On Saturday morning all of the troop came down to the house-boat ready for the trip, and oh, you ought to have seen Skinny McCord. He’s a little fellow that lives down in the poor part of town, and he was a new member. His mother is poor and she goes out washing, and Skinny was sick and his clothes were all in rags, and even he didn’t have any shoes and stockings. But, anyway, he did me a good turn and so Westy Martin and I got him into the troop, and we presented him to the Elk Patrol, because they had a vacant place on account of Tom Slade being away in France. So now you know about Skinny and you’ll find out a lot more about him, too.

Before Saturday came, Mr. Ellsworth made a bargain with Sandy Grober to tow us down into the Kill Von Kull—that’s near Staten Island, you know. Sandy has a boat with a heavy duty motor in it, and he said he’d do the job for ten dollars, because, anyway, he’d go to Princess Bay fishing. Our troop was broke and we couldn’t spare the money, because we needed all we had for eats and things. So this is the way we fixed it.

Mr. Ellsworth gave Sandy the ten dollars and then each one of the patrol leaders gave Mr. Ellsworth a note saying his patrol would pay back two dollars and a half as soon as they earned it. That would make seven dollars and a half, and Mr. Ellsworth said he would pay the other two fifty himself, so you see it was all divided up even between the patrols and the scoutmaster.

Believe me, we had some fun earning that money, especially the Raving Ravens—that’s the Raven Patrol, you know.

We started early Saturday morning, and we knew just where we had to go, because we had a letter from Captain Savage, saying that we should wait in the anchorage off St. George at Staten Island, until he came and got us. He said maybe it would be Sunday night or maybe Monday morning, but anyway, just to ride on our anchor till he came.

We didn’t have any adventures going down our river and I won’t bother telling you about it, because it would only be slow. Gee-williger, a story that’s being towed against the tide wouldn’t have much action, would it? I bet you’d skip. So it’s better for me to skip than for you, hey?

But anyway, on the way down we got the boat all straightened out inside and decided just how we’d sleep. Two patrols would sleep in the two rooms and one patrol on deck under the awning, and we decided we’d take turns that way, so each patrol would get some sleeping outdoors.

We didn’t get to the Kill Von Kull till about five o’clock and I guess it was about six o’clock when we got to St. George. Oh, but there are some peachy boats in the anchorage there—regular yachts and big cabin cruisers. And that’s where our adventures began, you can bet. Do you like mysteries? Gee, that’s one thing I’m crazy about—mysteries—mysteries and pineapple sodas. Oh, Oh!

Then Sandy left us and went off to catch cash-on-delivery fish—that’s COD fish. Oh, boy, but it was fine rocking away out there. Pretty soon I got supper because I’m cook. I know how to make flapjacks and hunters’ stew, and a lot of things. After supper the fellows decided to go ashore to St. George and get some sodas and take in a movie show. I said I’d stay on the house-boat because I had to write up the troop book. Maybe I forgot to tell you that I’m troop historian. Most of the things in this story are out of our troop book.

You’d better not skip the next chapter, because something is going to happen.