"You mean he'll swim away with it," I said; "gee-williger, look how that little codger can dive."

One thing, there was a dandy place for learning, that's sure.

We put the skiff into the water and a couple of the Elks rowed around near the house-boat, keeping near, while Hunt Ward showed Skinny the strokes. The rest of us sat along the cabin roof, cheering just so's the kid would be encouraged. He looked awfully thin and little in his bathing suit and whenever he climbed up to the deck of the house-boat the wet cloth stuck tight to him and made him look, oh, I don't know, kind of like a marsh rat, as you may say. That's what he always said people called him, a _swamp rat_, and I guess he was even kind of proud of it.

One sure thing, he was game. And he was just the same in learning to swim as he was in everything else; he got all excited and wanted to go too fast. As soon as he got the hang of it and could manage a few strokes, _good night_, he wanted to swim across the river. He started right off before the fellows in the boat noticed him and was heading across stream. Two or three times we heard him sputtering and shouting, "_Now can I have that badge?_"

Late that afternoon they let him dive off the deck. It was low and it didn't make much of a dive. Of course, he didn't dive right, he only just jumped and went kerflop into the water, and he had us all laughing. As soon as he found out how much fun it was, he kept climbing up and splashing into the water again; oh, boy, it was as good as a circus to see him. Then he'd go swimming to the skiff and climb in just like a little eel, and sit there shivering.

You can bet that kid is going to have the swimming badge all right, we all said; the trouble is going to be to hold him back. And we were right, too, because when he came up on the cabin roof to get dry, all of a sudden, before any of us knew it, he was over at the edge and dived off before Mr. Ellsworth had a chance to call to him. That was sure too much of a dive for a beginner, for if he hit the water face down and flat, _good night_, that might have been the end of him. The skiff was hauled up then so Hunt Ward dived in after him, but he had to swim some to catch him and it was mighty funny to see them.

That night Mr. Ellsworth gave Skinny a good lecture and told him he mustn't do things like that until he was told to, but I guess Skinny didn't understand. When I saw Mr, Ellsworth sitting alone on the deck after dark, I went up and sat down and began talking to him. I often do that.

I said, "I guess Skinny's going to get the swimming badge, all right."

"Yes, I guess he is," that's what Mr. Ellsworth said, "Skinny's too much for me. If the boys would only teach him a little scouting, I'd be better pleased. He wants to be a swimmer now; he's not thinking about being a scout. He thinks of the badge only as something to wear."

"I tried to teach him some things out of the Handbook," I said, "but the Elks didn't like it. I tried to tell him some things about scouting and all I got was a good lecture from Connie. Nix on teaching fellows in other patrols."

Mr. Ellsworth seemed awfully worried, kind of; he just sat thinking a minute. Then he said, "I'm afraid Skinny is going to be hard to tame.

He'll make a fine swimmer and a fine stalker--"

I said, "He calls that sneaking."

Mr. Ellsworth laughed and said, "But the princ.i.p.al thing is to make him a good scout. Has he done any good turns?"

I said, "The only good turns I know about, are the good turns he made in diving; he turns every which way."

"Well, I hope he can forget about swimming long enough to eat his supper," Mr. Ellsworth said.

But just the same Skinny didn't.

CHAPTER X

TELLS ABOUT SKINNY AND THE ELKS

Well, that was the way it was with Skinny and I could see that the Elks were rushing him through, so that he'd get the badge. That used to be one trouble with the Elks and I don't care if they do know I said it.

They got one good lesson to cure them, that's sure. The trouble with them was they were making a collection of badges and when you're out for badges, you skip at lot of pages in the Handbook, that's sure.

The next day I said to Connie Bennett--this is just what I said; I said, "I hope you won't get mad at me again if I say something about Skinny, because, anyway, it's none of _my_ business, that's sure. But as long as you fellows are busy teaching him stunts and things, I don't see that there would be any harm in it, if I read some things in the Handbook to him--some other kind of things, I mean."

He said, "What kind of things?"

"Oh, just about the laws and things like that, like about being honest and obedient--you know."

"You keep your hands off my patrol," that's just what he said; "and you needn't start hinting that the Elks are dishonest--"

"Who's hinting that?" I said, kind of mad; "you remind me of an airplane, you're always going up in the air."

"If any of my patrol are dishonest, they'll be thrown out," he said, "and maybe they'll be welcome in the Silver Foxes."

"Sure," I said, "we make a specialty of burglars and pickpockets; we eat 'em alive. All I was asking you was that you let me teach Skinny some of the 'idea' stuff--you know what I mean."

"You're jealous because he's a genius," Connie said; "and you want to fill him up with grandmother stuff. Why don't you let the kid alone?

We'll take care of him."

"All right," I said; "I should worry. Only there's no use getting mad; we're all one troop."

"Yes, but we're three separate patrols," he said.

"United we stand, divided we sprawl," I said. Then he walked away.

That was the second day at Poughkeepsie and most all day the Elks were busy turning Skinny into a fish. Some of the rest of us went up to Metzger's Candy Store to get some jaw-breakers. Did you ever eat those?

Pee-wee was quiet for an hour munching one. The licorice ones are best.

In the afternoon we sat along the cabin roof watching Skinny and the Elks. Good night, you should have seen that kid! Every time the fellows in the boat had to row after him, because he'd go swimming away on his own hook. He never paid any attention to what they told him.

"Throw him a jaw-breaker," Grove Bronson said; "just for fun."

"Nix," I said; "you don't catch me interfering with the buzz-saw. Twice was enough. When I try any polishing, I'll polish up the Silver Foxes."

"Go ahead, throw him one," Grove said to Pee-wee. But I guess Pee-wee didn't have any jawbreakers to spare. His cheeks were sticking out and there was licorice all over his lips, and he said--this is the way it sounded: "I--ooo--go--to--goo--to--are--" something like that, honest.

"Go in and wash your face," Doc said; "you look like a minstrel actor in a rainstorm."

"Yu--sht--p--m--nd--r--n--business." Pee-wee blurted out. Crackey, I thought I'd die.

Pretty soon Doc Carson (he's a Raven) threw a jaw-breaker out into the water and Skinny got it before it went down.

"What do you know about that little water snake," El Sawyer said. Then he shouted, "Bully for you, Skinny!"

I said, "You'd better look out, you'll get yourself in trouble."

"What do I care for the Elks?" he said.

"That's all right," I said; "Connie's got Skinny copyrighted, all rights reserved."

Then, all of a sudden, Wig Weigand shouted, "Look at that, will you?

Look!"

We could just see Hunt Ward reach out of the skiff for Skinny, when all of a sudden he disappeared and came up about twenty feet from the skiff. Everybody began laughing and I guess the Elks were mad, because they thought we were just sitting up there kidding them.

Right then I heard Mr. Ellsworth calling out from just in back of us, "Take him in the skiff and bring him aboard, Huntley."

"Now--e--ng--t--gt--cld--down," Pee-wee said, munching away on a jaw breaker.

"You look as if you'd been gargling a bottle of ink," I told him.

"Don't talk, you can't do two things at once."