“Well, see how lawyers differ about the law,” he went on cheerfully, “and besides, you can’t have a law that isn’t constitutional—you must know that. Now here’s a rule which infringes on personal liberty, which forbids _me_ to dispose of a boat that I don’t want. That isn’t fair, now, is it?”
“That’s right, Harry,” broke in Gordon, “we have no right to interfere with personal liberty—no one would say that was right. We’d have no right to even if we wanted to, Harry.”
“Last year,” Mr. Danforth went on, “I gave a thousand dollars to the library out in the little Western town where I was born. They didn’t refuse it. This year I gave five thousand dollars to help start a hospital. They took it all right.”
“Well,” said Harry, “if you wanted to do something for the Scout organization, I couldn’t stop you, but—”
Mr. Danforth seemed about to speak, then suddenly changed his mind, studying Harry closely. The boy was not aware of the scrutiny, for his eyes were on the ground. Neither did he know that he had put an idea into this kindly gentleman’s shrewd mind.
“What, for instance?” Mr. Danforth asked.
“Oh, I don’t know; I didn’t just mean to say that.”
“Is there any reward, or honor, as you call it, for doing a service to the Boy Scouts?”
“There is, yes, sir. But I think it’s only given in very rare cases. There was one boy up in Maine who stopped a forest fire which threatened a big summer pavilion that the organization owned. I think they made him the award, but that’s the only case I’ve heard of. I think the rule says, ‘rare and exceptional service,’ or something like that. My friend here knows the regulations better than I do. I think that’s the only case.”
“Where is the headquarters of the organization?”
Penfield joined them, and they wandered down to the shore. “Let me show you the boat, anyway,” Mr. Danforth urged.
“I’d rather not, sir,” said Harry, hesitatingly. “I—well, I’d just rather not.” Instinctively he held out his hand, and Mr. Danforth shook it cordially.
“There’s no use asking you to think it over?”
“No, sir, but I don’t know how to thank you—I wish I did. You’ll let Penfield join us in the Fall, won’t you?”
“He’s going to walk away with the prize cup,” Harry added.
“Yes, and he’ll accept it, too,” was Mr. Danforth’s final shot, as the two scouts got into the boat in which Pat was to take them across the lake.