Part 24 (2/2)

”Well, then, what are we going to do about it?” Mr. Ellsworth asked pleasantly.

Garry understood, if Raymond did not, for he started the little fellow over toward Tom, and Tom took the timid hand and held it.

Then suddenly, in one of those freaks of impulse that Raymond sometimes showed, he reached with his other hand and grasped Tom's arm. With the arm that was free Tom encircled the small, agitated form.

Raymond was crying like a baby.

CHAPTER XVII LOST!

”Do you know what I've decided, do you know what I've decided?” demanded Pee-wee, uproariously.

”Break it to us gently and let us hear the worst,” said Roy.

”I decided that we ought to stop in Albany and have Tom buy a suit. I didn't say anything before, but crink.u.ms, he ought not to go to Plattsburg without a suit. You can see that yourself. And he can get one now, all right.”

”Hear that, Tom?” said Mr. Ellsworth, quizzically.

They were running up the stretch of river above Castleton and would reach the capital that day, if their plans held good.

”I got no objections to getting a suit,” said Tom. ”I believe in suits. I never said I didn't.”

The _Good Turn_ had run up alongside the _Honor Scout_ which had come to anchor for swimming and luncheon, and Tom and his patrol had gone aboard the larger boat for ”eats,” where an uproarious session of jollying usually awaited him.

”Hurrah for Sigmund Eisner!” shouted Roy. ”He's the fellow that makes scouts, hey, Raymond?”

”No, he isn't,” said Raymond, quite boldly. ”He's the fellow that makes _suits_.”

”Same thing, only different,” said Roy.

”I guess we all believe in the khaki,” said Mr. Ellsworth, ”only we know it's not the khaki that makes the scout.”

”Any more than it's the pants that make the panther, or the badge that makes the badger,” said Roy. ”I vote for Tom to buy a suit and we'll all go with him to help him choose it.”

”No, you don't,” said Tom, with an actual approach to animation. ”I won't buy it if the whole troop goes along.”

”We wouldn't kid you,” said Connie. ”Honest, we won't.”

”Hear what Bennover Connet says? We'll promise to be good and--”

”I'll take no chances,” said Tom. ”I don't mind if two or three go, so's to help me get fitted right, but--”

”One representative from each patrol,” suggested Roy.

”All right,” said Tom, resignedly.

About the middle of the afternoon they reached Albany and tied up at a lumber wharf right under the shadow of the big night boat, the majestic bulk of which made the _Good Turn_ and even the more imposing _Honor Scout_ look very insignificant.

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