1 Es
“Bellefonte, Pa., January 10, 1980.
HE WHO SERVES
He has not served who gathers gold.
Nor has he served whose life is told
In selfish battles he has won
Or deeds of skill he has done.
But he has served who now and then
Has helped along his fellow men.
The world needs many men today;
Red-blooded men along life’s way
With cheerful smiles and helping hands
And with the faith that understands
The beauty of the simple deed,
‘Which serves another's hour of need.
Strong men to stand beside the weak,
Kind men to hear what others speak.
True men to keep our country’s laws
And guard its honors and its cause;
Men who will bravely play life's game
Nor ask rewards of gold or fame.
Teach me to do the best I can
To help and cheer my fellow man:
Teach me to lose my selfish need
And glory in the larger deed
‘Which smoothes the road and light the
day
For all who chance to come my way.
—Edgar A. Guest.
ers se fees —
THE HONOR MEDAL
“Say, Rick, don’t you want to
come for a walk and coach me up on
trees?”
Rick Thornton locked up from the
map he was drawing, “Trees!” he re-
peated with a touch of impatience.
“What on earth do you want to
know about trees?”
Teddy Baxter's grin was apolo-
getic and a trifle shamefaced. “Well,
you see,” he explained, I've just
waked up to the fact that to-mor-
row’s the last day we can make any
points for the medal, I thought if
you had time to help me I might
gel Forestry and maybe Conserva-
tion.”
“Forestry! Great Scott! You
couldn't bone up on that in a day.
There’s a whole lot to it besides
knowing the trees. It took me three
or four weeks. Why the dickens
didn’t you start sooner?”
A faint flush crept into Baxter's
tanned, good humored face. “1
should have’ he admitted. “I don’t
know where the time’s gone. It’s
been a peach of a camp, and I expect
I've been so busy enjoying myself
that—You see, about all the points
I've got are those firsts in Swim-
ming and Life Saving, Of course
you've got the medal cinched, but I
did want to make a little better
showing to help out our troop.”
Thornton’s expression grew slight-
ly less impatient. Privately he felt
that he was scheduled to win the
medal offered for the best all around
scout in camp, but it was pleasant
to have that conviction corroborated.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he
said deprecatingly, though there
was no real anxiety in his voice. “Of
.course I've got the most points so
far, but that fifty they're offering
for the best single scout stunt will
practically decide it.’
Thornton nodded, his glance re-
turned with veiled pride to the large
shéet of paper pinned to a roughly
improvised drawing board. It was
a scale map of the lake and the en-
virons of the scout camp, exquisite-
ly done and showing an immense
amount of ability and hard work.
As an example of advanced scout
work in this particular direction it
could scarcely be surpassed, and Ted
regarded it with admiration mingled
with a little touch of hopeless envy.
“It’s a peach, all right,” he com-
mented. “I couldn’t make more than
about a square inch of it without
smearing it all up with blots. You
don’t think, then, I'd have a chance
with Forestry?”
“I don’t” returned Thornton de-
cidedly. “Anyhow, I wouldn't have
time to even show you the trees. It’ll
take me all afternoon to finish ink-
ing this in, and tomorrow I'll be
busy with merit badges.”
Ted gave a small sigh and wan-
dered out of the tent, leaned against
a tree, his glance sweeping down the
rocky slope to rest absently on the
ruffied surface of the lake. It had
been a wonderful camp, the best he
had ever known, and he had enjoyed
every minute tothe utmost. But now
that it was almost over he wished
that he had spent less time on swim-
ming and hikes and games and gen-
eral amusements, and given more
to earning points for the gold medal
which had been offered by the Local
Council for the best all around scout
in camp. In the beginning he had
planned to accomplish so much, too,
and had made an excellent start by
winning firsts at both Swimming
and Life Saving competitions, But
after that, one glorious, golden day
followed another with such amazing
swiftness that almost before he knew
it the end was in sight and he had
done almost nothing.
“Of course I'd never have won the
medal,” he reflected. “With Rick and
Garry Haven in the running I
wouldn’t have a show. But I'd have
loved to please Mr. Calhoun and
helped our troop out. I wish to
thunder I wasn’t so dumb.”
He didn’t look stupid, and he
wasn’t —really. When anything of
an athletic sort was to the fore, Ted
Baxter, with his big frame and well-
developed muscles could always be
counted on to make a killing, Nor
was it altogether physical strength
which made him a distinct asset on
a team or in a swimming match.
There was a firmness about his big,
good-humored mouth, a determined
mouth, a determined squareness to
his chin a look of competence in
the clear, steady brown eyes which
indicated no ‘mean mental equip-
ment. But when it came to actual
studying. either at school or on
some difficult merit badge Ted found
process hard, He had to “dig”
himself familiar with in the short
time remaining. When he sought
the open again his pleasant face was
a little troubled.
But his depression was not long
enduring, Thornton, who was also a
member of Troop One, seemed cer-
tain to win the medal, and with this
consoling thought and a mental de-
termination to make a better show-
ing next time Ted flung himself with
ardor into the various camp activi-
ties.
All that afternoon and the next
day he enjoyed every minute of the
fleeting time. He was the first in
the water and the last to emerge,
He entered with a whim into prepa-
rations for the final council fire, and
though he played only a small part
in the tent stunt that night his voice
was raised vigorously in every song,
his applause for the various per-
formances instant, vehement, and
sincere. Only at the end there came
a sobering moment when the camp
director, John Calhoun, made a sim-
ple, straightforward little speech
about the camp in general and the
breaking up next day, concluding
with a few words about the honor
medal.
“You fellows have made a mighty
fine showing—mighty fine,” he said
in his pleasant, drawling, Southern
voice. “Every scout in camp has
done something, and though some of
you might have stirred yourselves a
little more. I expect each one real-
izes that now and has made up his
mind to take a brace next season
and do better? he fifty points to be
given for the best single exhibition
of practical scouting cannot be
awarded until I have talked things
over with the executive council, As
a matter of fact we're not going to
make known the name of the final
winner until the meeting of the
Court of Honor a week from Fri-
day when the medal will be present-
ed. I'll read out the points as they
stand now.”
He did so. Rick Thornton head-
ed the list with seventy-seven points.
Baxter's name came ninth with thir-
ty.
A slow flush crept up into Ted's
face and he bit his lip. He had not
expected it would be quite as bad
as that, and somehow the fact that
shrimp Warren, diminutive, but
smart as a steel trap, stood above
him increased his regret.
“You great big dummy” he apos-
trophized disgustedly, “You ought
to be ashamed of yourself letting a
kid like that beat you. Gosh, but
you're the limit!”
His glance fell as Mr. Calhoun’s
eyes swept round the circle of boy-
ish faces brightly illumined in the
firelight. Somehow he could not
bring himself to meet the director’s
gaze.
“Remember, fellows,” the latter
said “the bus will be ready to start
at eight-thirty sharp. Every scout
must report promptly in front of the
mess hall at eight-fifteen to stow
away blanket rolls and duffel-bags.”
He hesitated a moment and then he
smiled—that pleasant, infectious
smile of his. “Of course if any of
you hanker for some real hard work
helping Hamilton and Rogers and
myself break camp,” he added light-
ly, “he is at perfect liberty to stay
on,”
Several of the scouts grinned and
nudged one another. Later, on the
way up to the tents there were a
few casual comments.
“He’s kidding, and wants to see if
anybody ’'ll bite” observed Rick
Thornton. “Of course breaking
camp is their job and they're paid
for it.’
“Sure,” agreed Ed Sloane. “No
reason why any of us should spend
th=cc or four days slaving for noth-
ing.”
“Well, I couldn't anyway.” com-
mented Thornton, “I'm leaving to-
morrow afternoon to visit friends
on the shore and won't be back till
a week from Friday.”
Most of the others had various
reasons for going home with the
crowd, amongst them Ted Baxter,
who had planned to go on a three or
four day’s bicycle trip with two oth-
er scouts. He made no allusion to
this, however, nor contributed in any
way to the discussion, but after the
lights were out he lay awake a long
time thinking.
He knew something about the job
of breaking camp. It would take Mr,
Calhoun and his assistants a good
three day's hard labor to make things
shipshape here. Even a single extra
pair of hands, especially when these
were muscular and callous like his
own, would be a help.
To be frank, Ted Baxter was no
fonder than the average boy of
working when he didn’t have to, He
labored under no delusion, either,
that the affair would be any sort
of a picnic, and he had been looking
forward for some time with eager
enthusiasm to the bicycle trip with
Ben Wheeler and Garry Haven. But
down in his heart there still linger-
ed a strong measure of humiliation
and chagrin at the rotten showing he
had made in the competition for the
honor medal. He had a feeling that
Mr. Calhoun was personally disap -
pointed at his failure, and wondered
whether, if he stayed behind, it
wouldn’t serve to show the man he
liked and admired that he was cap-
able of doing something at camp be-
sides rough-housing and having a
good time.
“YT expect I'll be turned down,” he
reflected drowsily, “but I guess I'll
ask him, anyhow.”
When he proffered his request di-
rectly after breakfast, Mr. Calhoun
showed ‘a momentary surprise.
“I thought you and Wheeler and
Haven were going on a bicycle trip,” |
he commented.
Te ve Pe Tn
I guess that can pu
first. of next week if T stay here.”
aking camp is pretty much of
a fn 18
a aio Ror Riven
expecting a c, sir, -
pr "He paused, flushed a little,
“perhaps I wouldn't be any use to
youl,” ‘he ‘added hesitatingly.
‘Mr. Calhoun smiled, ‘Of course
you would,”
“And if you really want to stay
be y glad to have you.
speak’ to
Toading he inhi
di ;
ter send a note hack to your:
Just
bets
moth.
he answered wir
of
'er. Tell her we're planning to come
i down Saturday morning.”
Ted dashed away to write the
note and then hunted up Garry Hav-
en to explain his change of plan.
Here he ran up against a totally un-
expected snag.
“Go next week instead!” exclaim-
ed Haven. “Why, you know I can’t,
Ted. I have to start work in the
store Monday.”
Baxter's face fell. “I didn’t know
that was settled,” he said in a trou-
bled tone. “Last time we talked it
over you only said it might be Mon-
day.”
“Well, I got a letter yesterday
from Dad that settled it. You'd bet-
er see Mr, Calhoun and tell him you
can’t stay after all. I don't see
whee you ever got such a crazy idea.
Baxter hesitated. “I—I don’t see
how I can, Garry’ he returned slow-
ly. I've offered to stay, andif I
back out it'll look—”
“Well, if you'd rather do that than
go on the trip, all right,” cut in
Haven whose rather quick temper
had been unknown to Baxter, unduly
ruffied that morning by an altogeth-
er different matter. “We can easily
get somebody to take your place.”
Ted flushed, stiffened, and walked
away without a word. He could not
know that Garry was sorry the mo-
ment he had spoken and his natural
soreness was not helped by the com-
ments of his own tent mates, sever-
al of whom hinted that he was
side of Mr, Calhoun.
When assembly sounded at eight-
fifteen. Ted made no move to ac-
company the others to where the bus
was waiting on the narrow moun-
tain road. Hurt, sore, regretful over
the lost trip, he listened to the
aboard and through the open tent flap
watched them pushing and good na-
turedly scrapping for places. When
the motor-bus finally started and the
voices died away, Ted looked around
the empty tent and gave a little
sigh, It did seem awfully still and
lonely.
But this mood did not last long.
When the work of dismantling be-
gan there was no time for depression
or vain regrets. The tents had to
be taken down, carefully folded and
put away in the mess hall, poles and
pegs collected and sorted, cots stack-
ed up, floors put under cover, and a
score of other details attended to.
The systematic manner in which the
three men tackled the job was a rev-
elation and an inspiration to Ted,
There: was no evidence of grilling
labor. Indeed, twice a day they
knocked off regularly for a swim and
stopped fairly early for the prepara-
tion of dinner and supper. But when
they worked, they worked. Every
movement counted. There were no
slipshod omissions or commissions,
Yet all the while they kept up a con-
ing, give and take, which at first
surprised and then actually thrilled
Baxter.
ferent side to the men he liked and
thought he knew, They might have
been three of the fellows off on an
outing, and the way they took him
in and made him one of themselves
completely captivated Ted. Before
twenty-four hours had passed his re-
gret at the loss of the bicycle trip
had completely vanished in the de-
light of this unique experience.
work had been practically finished,
he found himself wishing that it had
just begun so that he might live
these three entrancing days over
again. :
All morning the atmosphere had
been heavy and oppressive,
the morning swim lacked its usual
refreshing qualities. It was almost
impossible to get dry afterward
and Ted was rather glad he wasn't
asked to accompany Hamilton and
Rogers who planned to drive the
rackety Ford over to Tannersville
twelve miles away to make a final
visit to the post office and pay a
number of camp bills,
“Ted and I will have a good loaf-
ing afternoon’ said Mr. Calhoun.
“There's scarcely anything left to be
done and I suppose we might al-
most have gone home this afternoon.
except for those bills and a few
small things. You mneed’t hurry
bark. We'll have supper ready about
S ”
When the last chug of the car died
away, Mr, Calhoun and Ted set out
on an inspection of the camp to see
that nothing had been forgotten. It
wag perhaps three o'clock when they
returned to the only tent which had
been left standing about a hundred
yards back of the mess hall and Mr.
Calhoun commenced packing up his
records.
As he packed he talked in a pleas-
ant, desultory fashion about the var-
ious happenings of the camp, their
plans for next year, the honor med-
al, and a number of other matters
L which interested them both. And
presently, almost without being
aware that he was his mind,
Ted found himself trying to express
something of his regret at his poor
“There wasn’t a chance of my
winning the medal” he concluded.
“Rick and Garry and two or three
others are a whole lot more clever,
But I ought to have got down and
grubbed if it was only to make some
extra points for the troop. I—I
really meant to at the start, but
somehow every day there was—'
He paused, a little. Mr.
Calhoun nodded understandingly.
“It’s hard, I know” he comment-
ed. “Some fellows find that sort
of thing easier than others and I
expect that when you get home
you'll in and get a few merit
Radges st to prove you can do it
| you
ment and then smiled faintly.
suppose I ought not to say. s but
as a matter of faet you've been a
lot more helpful here at camp than
some of the fellows who have beaten
you in points for the medal.”
Baxter stared. “Me—he 1" he
exclaimed in amazement. “Yes. The
way you've gone into everything
with such enthusiasm, I mean. Hikes
and water sports and tent inspection
and all that sort of thing.
camp Reeds someone Do Mi
keen about it all to put pep into the
FegUIAr, | "the boys
rred
not win
merely trying to get on the right:
shouts and laughter as they climbed .
as a low rumble of thunder rever-
berated through the hills back of
the camp. “I rather expected that
would come,” he went on in a dif-
ferent tone. “We need a good thun-
der storm to clear the air.”
Apparently they were due for one.
When Ted, tingling with warmth at
Mr. Calhoun’s comments, stepped out
of the tent, he saw, thrusting beyond
the hills that rose back of the camp,
a great mass of black storm clouds
sweeping forward across the blue
sky. For a space he stood watching
them, noting with interest the long,
ragged streamers reaching out from
the main cloudbank like the ten-
tacles of an octopus. Suddenly the
sable background was riven by a
jagged lightning fork, followed
swiftly by the roll of thunder.
“It’s coming fast,” said Mr. Cal-
houn, who had come up behind him.
“We'd better drop the sides.”
By the time this was done and the
canvas fastened securely to the
board flooring, the shadows were
deepening through the woods and in
the glades and open spots the light
had taken on a curious greenish-
sacron glow. The air, too, seemed
to have grown even more breath-
less and oppresive, and as Ted wip-
ed the perspiration from his fore-
head he was glad the director had
not suggested their weathering the
storm in the boarded-up mess hall
which, he felt, would be quite suf-
focating.
As the black clouds swept across
the sun, darkness descended-sudden-
ly. Turning to follow Mr. Calhoun
into the tent Ted caught a glimpse
down the tree-dotted slope of the
lake, somber, glassy, smooth as a.
sheet of black lacquer. Then he en-
tered and fastened the tent-flap be-
hind him. ‘
“You'd better light the lantern,
Ted” said Mr. Calhoun, standing by
the tent-pole, “It'll be dark as a
pocket in a minute or two.”
A vivid lightning flash lit up the
tent, the instant crackle of thunder
almost drowning the last few
words, Ted felt his way over to
one corner where he had left the
camp lantern after cleaning it that
morning. He had half lifted the
chimney and was feeling for a
match when with appalling sudden-
ness chaos descended.
A blinding glare of greenish light
and the deafening vicious crackle
of thunder came simultaneously, The
lantern flew from the boy’s hand
and he was hurled as by an irresist-
, ible, tingling force across the tent
This was an altogether dif-'
Even
His head ached and throbbed and
to land unconscious, against the
foot of a cot standing near the en-
trance.
Numb, dazed, bewildered, and a
little sick, Baxter's eyes opened
slowly to darkness and the pelt of
rain. For a space he lay motion-
less, a huddled heap, striving to
: ! remember what had happened. Then
tinual interchange of chaff and jok-
suddenly a lightning flash illuminat-
ing the tent for an instant touch-
ed an elusive chord of memory and
partially cleared his clouded brain.
His last conscious memory was of
that blinding glare of light which
seemed centered about the tent-
pole, and of being hurled irresistibly
through the air. A moment before
that Mr. Calhoun—
A sudden shiver went through
Baxter and he strove to pierce the
darkness with wide dilated eyes.
| “Mr, Calhoun!” he calledin a queer
When Friday noon came and the
hoarse voice, “Mr. Calhoun!”
No answer came. A strange,
terrifying stillness seemed to lay
over the tent, broken only by the
lashing of the wind and the driving
pelt of rain against the sodden can-
vas. Ted caught his breath in a
half sob and moistened his dry lips.
his right arm and shoulder seemed
curiously numb. He tried to gain
his feet and failed. Teeth gritted,
he made a stronger effort and
managed at length to get on his
hands and knees just as another
lightning flash revealed a dark
shape sprawling near the center of
the tent,
A strangled cry escaped the boy’s
set lips and for an instant he
crouched motionless, a sick, sinking
sensation overwhelming him. His
heart sank, then leaped, driving the
blood into his face, and he began
to crawl slowly and painfully
across the rough board floor.
It seemed s before he reached
| that still huddled figure and ex-
tended a hesitating hand. The man
lay on his back, his face a wedge
‘of white against the surrounding
gloom. The hand Ted touched seem-
ed icy, and when he fumbled for
the pulse and failed to find it a
wave of horror syept over him.
“No!” he muttered. “He—he can’t
be—"
Hurriedly, yet with fingers that
seemed all thumbs, he unbuttoned
the director's shirt and bending
across his body put his ear to the
man’s heart. “t was still beating
weakly, irregularly, with moments
when the faint throb almost seem-
ed to cease, but beating—! =
“He's alive!” Ted, “He—
The rest of the sentence clipped
off abruptly as Ted, rising to
Knees, slid one arm under the un- |
conscious body. There had been
no conscious pause for thought or
consideration. Instinct, born of ex-
perience—the experience of count-
less times that he had given arti-
ficial respiration—moved him solely.
But after he had rolled Mr. 1-
houn on his stomach, turned his
head to one side and got astride of
the man’s body. Ted realized with
a momentary little sinking qualm
that never before had he dome it
|
.'" He paused a me | ed his
Every | na
save as a demonstration—never
| before had his patient been actual-
unconscious.
“But its got to work,” he mutter-
hands sliding down along
the man's . “They'd never
teach it if it wasn't— practical.”
His spreading fingers sought the
spaces between the lower ribs and
exertin pressure he bent slowly
ii esitated an appreciable
moment, and relaxed. Again he
pent forward and drew back, again
and again, pressing and relaxing
with a slow rhythmic motion that
was automatic. Not once did he
use or vary that motion by a
hair's breadth. Heedless of aching
muscles and throbbing head. he
worked ceaselessly.
Pen ‘minutes dragged into seem-
ing hours: The rain’ ceased. the
pauséd | storm rumbled off to the south, the
, may say that the
w— ———
darkness slowly lightened until at
length the sun came out again and
a stray beam slanting through a
crevice in the tent-flap played about
Baxter's ruffled brown head and
strained white face. And yet in all
that time no single sign of return-
ing life had come from the uncon-
scious man,
Still Ted did not desist, he could
not. With dogged persistence he
kept it up, fighting against physical
pain and weariness, striving to
choke down the feeling of horror
and despair which presently began
to creep over him. There came at
length a moment when each move-
ment was a torture and his sens-
es began to swim and the objects
within his limited range of vision
seemed wrapped in a queer wav-
ering haze. He bit his lips and
tried to shake the perspiration
from his smarting eyes. His face
had become a livid mask in which
only the eyes seemed alive—strain-
ed, dilated brown eyes in which
dogged determination contended with
despair.
Suddenly Ted caught his breath
and for an instant there was a tiny
break in his ceaseless, rythmic move-
ments. Swiftly these took on again
their careful regularity, but as he
bent forward and back, pressing and
relaxing, his whole being seemed
concentrated in listening. At length
it came again—that sound which
had struck upon his brain like an
! electric shock—the faint sound of a
sigh.
Until Mr. Calhoun’s natural
breathing was resumed he must
“piece it in” with care and judg-
ment. It was the most difficult and
delicate part of the treatment and
presently struggling against the
deadly lethargy which threatened to
paralyze both brain and muscle, Ted
was overwhelmed by another wave of
despair,
If only Hamilton and Rogers
would come back! He couldn’t keep
it up much longer, he knew, and the
realization made him feel desperate-
ly alone and helpless and afraid,
Suppose through his inability to
complete the treatment, Mr, Cal-
houn should—
Ted’s face grew white and his lips
twitched. All at once from some-
where just outside the tent, a thrush
burst into sudden song. Rich, true
tender, the bird’s soaring notes
swept into the boy's heart and
brought a momentary moisture to his
eyes. His nerves were so ragged and
unstrung that for a moment or two
he failed to recognize the familiar
approaching chugging of a motor.
When the meaning of it finally pen-
etrated his fogged and weary brain,
the car was stopping with a final
clatter, and he heard the sound of
voices. He tried to shout, but a
hoarse croak was all that he could
master. He was so far gone that
when the tent flap was jerked aside
the faces of the two men who enter-
ed hastily were vague and blurred
against a background of swirling
golden mist.
Ted heard them both
sharply, but words were indistin-
guishable. Senses swimming, he felt
himself swaying forward and did his
best to draw back. But nerves and
muscles had reached the limit of
endurance, When two arms closed
around and lifted him from the body
of the prostrate man, the boy’s chin
fell forward on his chest, and with
a weary sigh his eyelids flickered,
and closed.
On Friday evening of the next
week every seat in the big hall
where the Court of Honor held its
meetings was filled. From the size
of the audience it looked as if each
member of the nine troops in Mid-
dleton had brought along his entire
family, and
while the low platform was occupied
by the members of the Council, the
mayor and several other town of-
ficials, The scouts themselves, im-
maculate as to uniform and equip-
ment, and uncommonly decorous in
behavior, took up a large block of
seats in the immediate center of the
hall.
cry out
The meeting was opened by a brief
address, followed by the presenta-
tion of various merit badges and oth-
er awards earned since the previous
mee! At the conclusion of this
part of the program, the Scout Ex-
ecutive arose.
“As you all know,” he said in his
easy, pleasant manner, “the chief
STIS of interest tonight is the
awarding of the camp medal. For
the benefit of anyone not familiar
with the conditions, I will say that
this honor has been offered by the
local Council for the scout making
the best record during the period of
camp.”
Briefly he outlined the scale of
points which had been adopted for
merit badges, competitions and the
like, and read a list of names with
the number of points already won.
“In addition,” he continued, “fifty
points has been offered for the most
valuable and practical exhibition of
. the principles of scouting. Referring
you will see that anyone |
his of the first nine scouts on it who
to my list
wins this fifty points will be the win-
ner of the medal. The day, but in
order to add interest to this meeting
of the Executive Committee on Wed-
nesday, but in order to add interest
to this meeting, it was agreed not
to announce it till tonight. His
Honor, the Mayor, who was also con-
sulted in the matter, has kindly con-
sented to make the presentation, and
also say a few words.”
Under cover of applause that fol-
lowed Ted Baxter, sitting between
Garry Haven and Ben Wheeler,
leaned forward and grinned at Rick
Thornton two places farther on.
“Im betting on you, Rick,” he
whispered.
Thornton made no reply, but
there was a momentary self-con-
scious = expression on his faintly
flushed face. It vamished, however,
as Mayor Thompson rose and step-
ped to the edge of the platform,
“It has been a privilege and a
pleasure to me to be taken into the
deliberations of your council,” he
said in a clear, mellow voice, “and 1
) experience has
given me a far greater insight into
the value of Boy Scout work than
I ever had before. The exhibitions,
if this is the right word, entered for
the best single scout feature were
particularly interesting and fMumi.
nating. One of these was a board
even distant relatives, !
containing, I should imagine, every
knot that was ever tied, another
scout collected and arranged no less
than forty-seven specimens of wood,
all found within hiking distance of
camp environs.”
He paused, his glance sweeping
the rows of eager, boyish faces, and
then he smiled,
“I know you're anxious for me to
get on, so I'll be brief, “he contin-
ued, “As I have stated, all these
things struck me as of extraordina-
ry interest and values—in their way,
They show study and industry and
real cleverness, and their makers de-
serve credit. But to my mind—and
this is also the opinion of your com-
mittee—the skill which results in
the saving of life is infinitely more
vital, There is no need for me to
tell in detail the story of a man
struck down by lightning and the
scout who worked over him for
nearly three hours before he was
rewarded by even the flicker of an
eyelash—who kept himself to it by
sheer grit and dogged persistence
until help came, and then fainted of
exhaustion. You are all familiar
with the case. Without scouting
that boy would have no practical
knowledge of artificial respiration
and all the grit and courage in the
world would have been of no avail
I think every person here will agree
with me that this exhibition, instinc-
tive, unpremediated—so unpremedi-
tated that, I understand, the boy
does not even consider himself a
competitor—has fairly won the med-
al. If Scout Baxter will step for-
ward it will igve me great pleas-
ure to—"
The remainder of his sentence was
drowned by a great burst of ap-
plause which swept the hall from
end to end. It rose and fell in
waves, beating upon the ears of Tec
Baxter, who sat motionless, his ex-
pression dazed, bewildered, uncom.
prehending.
“It’s you, you old idiot!” whisper
ed Garry Haven fondly. “Get up
can’t you?”
Hoisted to his feet, Ted stumble
out into the aisle and face flaming
managed to gain the platform. The
thing was so dazing and unexpectec
that he could not really believe if
true. He managed to pull himseli
together and stand at attention, be.
fore the mayor, but his confusior
was so complete that he scarcely
heard a word of the official's gra
cious comments as he pinned or
the glittering medal.
One thing heartened him a little—
a glance from Mr. Calhoun sitting
a few feet away, the arm which hac
been burnt by lightning still ban
daged and in a sling. But wher
shouts of “Speech,” Speech!” cam
from the scouts Ted’s face took 01
even a deeper hue of crimson, anc
with a salute and a muttered “Thani
you, sir,” he turned and fled.
As he went down the aisle he wa.
pummeled and pounded on the bacl
and his hand almost wrung off b;
the scouts, whose relaxed disciplin:
met with no official reproof. It wa
only when he had regained his sea
that a measure of composure return
ed, and at that moment he caugh
a glimpse of Rick Thornton's face.
“It’s really rot giving it to me!
he exclaimed impulsively, “I didn’
work abit in camp. Rick ought t
have had it. Why that map—"
For just a second Thornton hesi
tated, his expression still sore and
little resentful. Then abruptly hi
i face cleared and jumping to his fee
he grabbed Ted’s hand and pumpe
it hard.
i “Shut up,” he exclaimed, “Th
mayor's dead right.” There wa
‘ genuine appreciation and enthusiasr
in his voice. “Why that map wa
{just junk compared with—you
stunt,”—Reformatory Record.
|
WHEN YOUR CAR WON'T STAR'
Helpful advice to the motorist wh
wishes to avoid the hardship and ir
‘convenience incident to the failur
of his motor to start in cold weathe
is given in a bulletin just issued b
the Keystone Automobile Club.
“‘Can’t start ’er, is the princip:
cold weather complaint of the moto:
ist” Says the puligim, “and the ave!
age driver us Ss at a loss to a
count for a of is motor
He can, however, overcome tt
difficulty by:
First. Having his battery full
charged.
Second. Changing from heavy
light oil.
Third, Making sure his gas lix
and carburetor are clean.
Fourth. Checking the ignition ar
spark plugs.
“Battery weakness is one of ti
main causes of failure of the mot
to start in freezing weather. Bi
even a strong battery will have di
ficulty in turning over a motor
heavy oil is used. It frequently ha
pens that the failure is due to di
Jin the gas line or carburetor, ar
when all other factors are check:
the cause of trouble may be fom
in the ignition or spark plugs.
“Only slight expense is involved
putting the car in shape for frig
temperatures, but whatever the e
penditure the comfort and conve
ence will be well worh the cost.
ience will be well worth the cost.
time to point out to motorists th
the defects in safety factors disclos
by the recent inspection of mot
vehicles will continue to develop, a
that; firequent checking is the on
way to keep a car. in shape for sa
driving.”
1
THE FIRST PUBLIC UTILITY
Gas was first of the public uti
ties. It was followed by electrici
which, in the opinion of many sag
was to sound the death knell of t
gas industry.
~ This was a logical belief, for t
early use of was restricted :
most entirely to lighting. But wh
electric power took its place in tl
field, a period of progress began i
the gas industry in other fields tt
is still continuing.
A steadily increasing number
homes favor gas-fired heating 8)
tems. In industry, where manuf
turing and chemical processes
quire heat, gas has more than 2
000 uses.
The gas industry is a major fact
in our economic and social devel
ment. First of the ultilities, it :
mains one of the greatest,