Part 16 (1/2)
Two blocks farther on he stopped short. Tim was coming toward him carrying an oil can.
”Are you going to Danger Mountain?” Don demanded.
Tim put down the can and c.o.c.ked his cap over one eye. ”Sure. Why?”
”You can't. Mr. Wall said it's a bad spot.”
”He didn't say we couldn't go.”
”That's what he meant.”
”How do you know?”
”Everybody knows. That's why he won't take us there. He said you could get broken bones.”
”I'm not afraid.” Tim picked up the can and swung it carelessly. ”I guess Mr. Wall was trying to scare little fellows like Bobbie. He didn't mean a big fellow like me.”
Don knew that arguing with Tim would be useless. And yet, as the trouble-maker stepped around him, he made a last plea.
”You'll get the patrol in trouble, Tim, and we're only one point behind the Eagles.”
”I knew you weren't worrying about _me_,” said Tim.
Don followed slowly. He had pleaded for the troop thinking that that might win where all else had failed. And, as usual, Tim had misunderstood.
At the corner he paused. New thoughts were crowding through his brain.
Tim's recklessness was jeopardizing not only himself--it was threatening the entire troop.
Suppose he fell and broke an arm, or a leg, or--or worse. People would say, ”There; that's what comes from letting boys become scouts and go hiking.” Boys would be taken from the troop. The troop might even break up. All Mr. Wall's plans for the future would be ruined.
”It isn't fair,” Don told himself bitterly. ”If there was somebody who could make him stay home--”
His eyes puckered and his mouth grew tight. He had told Bobbie that this wasn't carrying tales. It wasn't. Suddenly he turned to his left and went up a side street.
A few minute's later he rang the doorbell of a plain, pleasant-looking house. The screen door opened.
”Good afternoon, Donald,” said a woman's voice. ”Are you looking for Mr.
Wall?”
”Yes, Mrs. Wall.” Don's cap was in his hand. ”Is he home? Could I see him right away?”
Mrs. Wall shook her head. ”He went to the city this morning. I do not expect him until evening. Is there anything I can do for you?”
”N-no,” said Don. He went down the stoop, stumbling on the last step, and walked slowly toward home.
CHAPTER V
A PLEA ON THE ROAD