Boy Scout Aviators

  Produced by Sean Pobuda

  THE BOY SCOUT AVIATORS

  BY GEORGE DURSTON

  CHAPTER I

  SERIOUS NEWS

  "As long as I can't be at home," said Harry Fleming, "I'd rather be herethan anywhere in the world I can think of!"

  "Rather!" said his companion, Dick Mercer. "I say, Harry, it must befunny to be an American!"

  Harry laughed heartily.

  "I'd be angry, Dick," he said, finally, "if that wasn't so English--andso funny! Still, I suppose that's one reason you Britishers are as bigan empire as you are. You think it's sort of funny and a bit of amisfortune, don't you, to be anything but English?"

  "Oh, I say, I didn't quite mean that," said Dick, flushing a little."And of course you Americans aren't just like foreigners. You speak thesame language we do--though you do say some funny things now and then,old chap. You know, I was ever so surprised when you came to Mr. Grenfeland he let you in our troop right away!"

  "Didn't you even know we had Boy Scouts in America?" asked Harry. "Myword as you English would say. That is the limit! Why, it's spread allover the country with us. But of course we all know that it startedhere--that Baden-Powell thought of the idea!"

  "Rather!" said Dick, enthusiastically. "Good old Bathing-Towel! That'swhat they used to call him at school, you know, before he ever went intothe army at all. And it stuck to him, they say, right through. Evenafter Mafeking he was called that. Now, of course, he's a lieutenantgeneral, and all sorts of a swell. He and Kitchener and French are sobig they don't get called nicknames much more."

  "Well, I'll tell you what I think," said Harry, soberly. "I think he dida bigger thing for England when he started the Boy Scout movement thanwhen he defended Mafeking against the Boers!"

  "Why, how can you make that out?" asked Dick, puzzled. "The defence ofMafeking had a whole lot to do with our winning that war!"

  "That's all right, too," said Harry. "But you know you may be in abigger war yet than that Boer War ever thought of being."

  "How can a war think, you chump?" asked the literal-minded Dick.

  Again Harry roared at him.

  "That's just one of our funny American ways of saying things, Dick," heexplained. "I didn't mean that, of course. But what I do mean is thatevery-one over here in Europe seems to think that there will be a bigwar sometime--a bigger war than the world's ever seen yet."

  "Oh, yes!" Dick nodded his understanding, and grew more serious. "Mypater--he's a V. C., you know--says that, too. He says we'll have tofight Germany, sooner or later. And he seems to think the sooner thebetter, too, before they get too big and strong for us to have an easytime with them."

  "They're too big now for any nation to have an easy time with them,"said Harry. "But you see what I mean now, don't you, Dick? We Boy Scoutsaren't soldiers in any way. But we do learn to do the things a soldierhas to do, don't we?"

  "Yes, that's true," said Dick. "But we aren't supposed to think ofthat."

  "Of course not, and it's right, too," agreed Harry. "But we learn to beobedient. We learn discipline. And we get to understand camp life, andthe open air, and all the things a soldier has to know about, sooner orlater. Suppose you were organizing a regiment. Which would you ratherhave--a thousand men who were brave and willing, but had never campedout, or a thousand who had been Boy Scouts and knew about half thethings soldiers have to learn? Which thousand men would be ready to goto the front first?"

  "I never thought of that!" said Dick, mightily impressed. "But you'reright, Harry. The Boy Scouts wouldn't go to war themselves, but thefellows who were grown up and in business and had been Boy Scouts wouldbe a lot readier than the others, wouldn't they? I suppose that's why somany of our chaps join the Territorials when they are through school andstart in business?"

  "Of course it is! You've got the idea I'm driving at, Dick. And you candepend on it that General Baden-Powell had that in his mind's eye allthe time, too. He doesn't want us to be military and aggressive, but hedoes want the Empire to have a lot of fellows on call who are hard andfit, so that they can defend themselves and the country. You see, inAmerica, and here in England, too, we're not like the countries on theContinent. We don't make soldiers of every man in the country."

  "No--by Jove, they do that, don't they, Harry? I've got a, cousin who'sFrench. And he expects to serve his term in the army. He's in the classof 1918. You see, he knows already when he will have to go, and justwhere he will report--almost the regiment he'll join. But he's hopingthey'll let him be in the cavalry, instead of the infantry or theartillery."

  "There you are! Here and in America, we don't have to have suchtremendous armies, because we haven't got countries that we may have tofight across the street--you know what I mean. England has to have atremendous navy, but that makes it unnecessary for her to have such abig army."

  "I see you've got the idea exactly, Fleming," said a new voice, breakinginto the conversation. The two scouts looked up to see the smiling faceof their scoutmaster, John Grenfel. He was a big, bronzed Englishman,sturdy and typical of the fine class to which he belonged--public schooland university man, first-class cricketer and a football internationalwho had helped to win many a hard fought game for England from Wales orScotland or Ireland. The scouts were returning from a picnic onWimbledon Common, in the suburbs of London, and Grenfel was followinghis usual custom of dropping into step now with one group, now withanother. He favored the idea of splitting up into groups of two or threeon the homeward way, because it was his idea that one of the greatfunctions of the Scout movement was to foster enduring friendships amongthe boys. He liked to know, without listening or trying to overhear,what the boys talked about; often he would give a directing word or two,that, without his purpose becoming apparent, shaped the ideas of theboys.

  "Yes," he repeated. "You understand what we're trying to do in thiscountry, Fleming. We don't want to fight--we pray to God that we shallnever have to. But, if we are attacked, or if the necessity arises,we'll be ready, as we have been ready before. We want peace--we want itso much and so earnestly that we'll fight for it if we must."

  Neither of the boys laughed at what sounded like a paradox. His voicewas too earnest.

  "Do you think England is likely to have to go to war soon--within a yearor so, sir?" asked Harry.

  "I pray not," said Grenfel. "But we don't know, Fleming. For the lastfew years--ever since the trouble in the Balkans finally flamedup--Europe has been on the brink of a volcano. We don't know what thenext day may bring forth. I've been afraid--" He stopped, suddenly, andseemed to consider.

  "There is danger now," he said, gravely. "Since the Archduke FranzFerdinand of Austria was assassinated, Austria has been in an ugly mood.She has tried to blame Servia. I don't think Russia will let her crushServia--not a second time. And if Russia and Austria fight there is notelling how it may spread."

  "You'd want us to win, wouldn't you, Harry, if we fought?" asked Dick,when Mr. Grenfel had passed on to speak to some of the others.

  "Yes, I think I would--I know I would, Dick," said Harry, gravely. "ButI wouldn't want to see a war, just the same. It's a terrible thing."

  "On, it wouldn't last long," said Dick, confidently. "We'd lick them inno time at all. Don't you think so?"

  "I don't know--I hope so. But you can't ever be sure."

  "I wonder if they'd let us fight?"

  "No, I don't think they would, Dick. There'd be plenty for the BoyScouts to do though, I believe."

  "Would you stay over here if there was a war, Harry? Or would you gohome?"

  "I think we'd have to stay over here, Dick. You see, my father is hereon business, not just for pleasure. His company sent him over here, andit was understood he'd stay several years. I don't think the war coul
dmake any difference."

  "That's why you're here, then, is it? I used to wonder why you went toschool over here instead of in America."

  "Yes. My father and mother didn't want me to be so far from them. Sothey brought me along. I was awfully sorry at first, but now it doesn'tseem so bad."

  "I should think not!" said Dick, indignantly. "I should think anyonewould be mighty glad of a chance to come to school over here instead ofin America! Why, you don't even play cricket over there, I've beentold!"

  "No, but we play baseball," said Harry, his eyes shining. "I reallythink I miss that more than anything else here in England. Cricket's allright--if you can't play baseball. It's a good enough game."

  "You can play," admitted Dick, rather grudgingly. "When you bowl, you'vegot some queer way of making the ball seem to bend--"

  "I put a curve on it, that's all!" said Harry, with a laugh. "If you'dever played baseball, you'd understand that easily enough. See? You holdthe ball like this--so that your fingers give it a spin as it leavesyour hand."

  And he demonstrated for his English friend's benefit the way the ball isheld to produce an out-curve.

  "Your bowlers here don't seem to do that--though they do make the ballbreak after it hits the ground. But the way I manage it, you see, is tothrow a ball that doesn't hit the ground in front of the bat at all, butcurves in. If you don't hit at it, it will hit the stumps and bowl youout; if you do hit, you're likely to send it straight up in the air, sothat some fielder can catch it."

  "I see," said Dick. "Well, I suppose it's all right, but it doesn't seemquite fair."

  Harry laughed, but didn't try to explain the point further. He likedDick immensely; Dick was the first friend he had made in England, andthe best, so far. It was Dick who had tried to get him to join the BoyScouts, and who had been immensely surprised to find that Harry wasalready a scout. Harry, indeed, had done two years of scouting inAmerica; he had been one of the first members of a troop in his hometown, and had won a number of merit badges. He was a first-class scout,and, had he stayed with his troop, would certainly have become a patrolleader. So he had had no trouble in getting admission to the patrol towhich Dick belonged.

  It had been hard for Harry, when his father's business called him toEngland, to give up a all the friendships and associations of hisboyhood. Had been hard to leave school; to tear up, by the roots, allthe things that bound him to his home. But as a scout he had learned tobe loyal and obedient. His parents had talked things over with him veryfrankly. They had understood just how hard it would be for him to gowith them. But his father had made him see how necessary it was.

  "I want you to be near your mother and myself just now, especially,Harry," he had said. "I want you to grow up where I can see you. And,more-over, it won't hurt you a bit to know something about othercountries. You'll have a new idea of America when you have seen otherlands, and I believe you'll be a better American for it. You'll learnthat other countries have their virtues, and that we can learn somethings from them. But I believe you'll learn, too, to love Americabetter than ever. When we go home you'll be broader and better for yourexperience."

  And Harry was finding out that his father had been right. At first hehad to put up with a good deal. He found that the English boys he met inschool felt themselves a little superior. They didn't look down on him,exactly, but they were, perhaps the least bit sorry for him because hewas not an Englishman, always a real misfortune in their sight.

  He had resented that at first. But his Boy Scout training stood him ingood stead. He kept his temper, and it was not long before he began tomake friends. He excelled at games; even the English games that were newand strange to him presented few difficulties to him. As he hadexplained to Dick, cricket was easy for any boy who could play baseballfairly well. And it was the same way with football. After the far morestrenuous American game, he shone at the milder English football, theRugby game, which is the direct ancestor of the sport in America.

  All these things helped to make Harry popular. He was now nearlysixteen, tall and strong for his age, thanks to the outdoor life he hadalways lived. An only son, he and his father had always been goodfriends. Without being in any way a molly-coddle, still he had been keptsafe from a good many of the temptations that beset some boys by theconstant association with his father. It was no wonder, therefore, thatJohn Grenfel, as soon as he had talked with Harry and learned of thecredentials he bore from his home troop, had welcomed himenthusiastically as a recruit to his own troop.

  It had been necessary to modify certain rules. Harry, of course, couldnot subscribe to quite the same scout oath that bound his Englishfellows. But he had taken his scout oath as a tenderfoot at home, andGrenfel had no doubts about him. He was the sort of boy the organizationwanted, whether in England or America, and that was enough for Grenfel.

  Though the boys, as they walked toward their homes, did not quiterealize it, they were living in days that were big with fate. Far away,in the chancelleries of Europe, and, not so far away, in the biggovernment buildings in the West End of London, the statesmen were eventhen making their best effort to avert war. No one in England, perhaps,really believed that war was coming. There had been war scares before.But the peace of Europe had been preserved for forty years or more,through one crisis after another. And so it was a stunning surprise,even to Grenfel, when, as they came into Putney High street, just beforethey reached Putney Bridge, they met a swam of newsboys excitedlyshrieking extras.

  "Germany threatens Russia!" they yelled. "War sure!"

  Mr. Grenfel brought a paper, and the scouts gathered about him while heread the news that was contained on the front page, still damp from thepress.

  "I'm afraid it's true," he said, soberly. "The German Emperor hasthreatened to go to war with Russia, unless the Czar stops mobilizinghis troops at once. We shall know tonight. But I think it means war! Godsave England may still keep out of it!"

  For that night a meeting at Mr. Grenfel's home in West Kensington hadlong been planned. He lived not far from the street in which both Harryand Dick lived. And, as the party broke up, on the other side of PutneyBridge, Dick, voicing the general feeling, asked a question.

  "Are we to come tonight, sir?" he said. "With this news--?"

  "Yes--yes, indeed," said the scoutmaster. "If war is to come, there isall the more reason for us to be together. England may need all of usyet."

  Dick had asked the question because, like all the others, he feltsomething that was in the air. He was sobered by the news, although,like the rest, he did not yet fully understand it. But they all feltthat there had been a change. As they looked about at the familiar sightabout them they wondered if, a year from then, everything would still bethe same. War? What did it mean to them, to England?

  "I wonder if my father will go to war!" Dick broke out suddenly, as heand Harry walked along.

  "I hadn't thought of that!" said Harry, startled. "Oh, Dick, I'm sorry!Still, I suppose he'll go, if his country needs him!"