Part 17 (1/2)

The scouts liked this idea, and they spent over an hour discussing it, and how they were to earn the money. Whyn was able to tell the price of the entire suit, and where it could be bought in the city.

Rod listened to this conversation, but said little. He walked home in a very thoughtful mood, and the Royals noticed that he was more silent than usual as he ate his supper. Generally he was bubbling over with news about the scouts. But now he had nothing to say of what had taken place that afternoon. Rod was worried over the suit question, as he had not the slightest idea how he was going to earn the money to buy his. He could not think of any way out of his difficulty. The other scouts had plans which would not do for him, as they were farmers'

sons, and could earn money right at home. He thought of this the last thing before he went to sleep that night, and the moment he awoke it came into his mind.

”I want you to take something for me over for Miss Arabella this morning,” Mrs. Royal told him after breakfast. ”The poor soul has not been well for some time, and I heard last night that she is worse. I have made up a few dainties for her as her appet.i.te is almost gone, so I understand.”

Rod did not fancy this errand, for he remembered only too well the last time he had seen Miss Arabella lying so still upon the sofa after her affair of the heart. It was, therefore, with lagging steps that he made his way across the field, carrying in his hand the little basket filled with the good things Mrs. Royal had sent for the invalid.

Miss Arabella was in bed looking paler than ever, so Rod thought her nose seemed longer than he had ever seen it. She was propped up with several pillows, and her hair was done up in papers. She looked to the boy like pictures he had seen of natives with funny head-dresses out in the islands of the Pacific Ocean.

”So Mrs. Royal sent those things, did she!” she whined. ”She might have come herself. She has been here only three times this week, while you haven't been near me for a long time. I might die here, and no one would care. This is what people call a Christian land, is it?”

”What's the matter with you, Miss Arabella?”' Rod asked in surprise.

”I didn't know you were sick. I have been so busy with the scouts that I haven't had time for anything else.”

”Who are the scouts?” the invalid questioned. There was evidently something taking place in the parish of which she had heard nothing, and her curiosity was aroused.

Then Rod told her about the troop which had been formed, the club-room, and the wonderful girl, to all of which Miss Arabella listened with much interest.

”And do you mean to tell me that cranky old Captain Josh is looking after the scouts?” she demanded.

”Sure. He's great,” was the reply.

”Well, I declare!” and Miss Arabella leaned back against the pillow as if exhausted by the idea.

”I wish you could see Whyn,” and Rod gave a little sigh. ”She'd do you a whole lot of good.”

”Do me good! In what way, I'd like to know? I guess it would take more than her to make me better.”

”But she is so jolly,” Rod explained. ”Her eyes are laughing all the time, and she is never cross.”

”Humph!” and the invalid gave her head a toss. ”If she had to put up with what I have to she would not feel that way.”

”Oh, but she does, Miss Arabella. She has pains all the time, and she can't walk a step. She hasn't walked for a long time.”

”She hasn't! Well, how can she laugh and not be cross?”

”I don't know for sure. But I guess she is trying to be a scout.”

”What has that to do with it?”

”Quite a bit. You see, a scout has to smile and whistle no matter what happens. If he jams his finger or stubs his toe, he must smile and go on whistling just as if nothing had happened. It's hard at first, but after you learn how to do it you feel good all the time.”

”And so you think I should do the same, eh?” and the woman fixed her eyes upon the boy's face.

”Not exactly, Miss Arabella,” and Rod gave a little chuckle. ”You might smile more than you do, but I don't think you could whistle. But maybe you can. Did you ever try?”

”No, I never did,” was the snapping reply, ”and I detest girls and women who can.”