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Ralphson, G. Harvey (George Harvey), 1879-1940

"Boy Scouts in Southern Waters"

"
"We haven't had much chance to help anyone so far today," asserted
Harry. "This may be just the chance to take the knot out of our
neckties, so I'm going to take a chance. We can't afford to be too
careful. If we were in trouble, we'd want help."
"That's so," admitted Arnold. "Go to it, then. I'm with you."
"Let me roll over and get on my feet and I'll slap, slap, slap on the
floor with my foot," declared Harry. "That'll be easy."
"Why don't you whistle 'Bob White,' at him?" queried the other.
"Because we're not allowed to use the call of another Patrol. If he's a
Bob White, he can't in reason howl like a wolf or bark like a dog or
slap, slap like a beaver. You understand that."
"Sure I do," admitted Arnold, "but I overlook things sometimes."
Harry now succeeded in rolling over onto his face and from that
uncomfortable position rose to his feet. He balanced himself against the
wall while he raised one foot and gave three distinct slaps on the floor
with the sole of his shoe. Both listened sharply.
"Bob, Bob White," came the answering call through the partition.
"Who's there?" called Harry in a voice trembling with excitement.
"Bob White, St. Louis," came the muffled reply.
"Good gracious," was Harry's startled comment. "Bob White, St. Louis.
Then they've got Jack and Tom and Frank cooped up here."
"That's awful," groaned Arnold. "What shall we do?"
"If it is really a Boy Scout, we'd better try to help him."
"If we only were not tied.


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