



Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Rick Morris
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
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                             THE BOY SCOUTS
                                   AS
                           COUNTY FAIR GUIDES


                                   BY
                       SCOUT MASTER ROBERT SHALER

       AUTHOR OF “BOY SCOUTS OF THE SIGNAL CORPS,” “BOY SCOUTS OF
       PIONEER CAMP,” “BOY SCOUTS OF THE GEOLOGICAL SURVEY,” “BOY
         SCOUTS OF THE LIFE SAVING CREW,” “BOY SCOUTS ON PICKET
            DUTY,” “BOY SCOUTS OF THE FLYING SQUADRON,” “BOY
             SCOUTS AND THE PRIZE PENNANT,” “BOY SCOUTS OF
            THE NAVAL RESERVE,” “BOY SCOUTS IN THE SADDLE,”
                “BOY SCOUTS FOR CITY IMPROVEMENT,” “BOY
                SCOUTS IN THE GREAT FLOOD,” “BOY SCOUTS
                  OF THE FIELD HOSPITAL,” “BOY SCOUTS
                       WITH THE RED CROSS,” ETC.


                                NEW YORK
                            HURST & COMPANY
                               PUBLISHERS




                        Sterling Boy Scout Books


                                   BY
                       Scout Master Robert Shaler

                  _Bound in cloth_    _Fifteen titles_

  1 Boy Scouts of the Signal Corps.
  2 Boy Scouts of Pioneer Camp.
  3 Boy Scouts of the Geological Survey.
  4 Boy Scouts of the Life Saving Crew.
  5 Boy Scouts on Picket Duty.
  6 Boy Scouts of the Flying Squadron.
  7 Boy Scouts and the Prize Pennant.
  8 Boy Scouts of the Naval Reserve.
  9 Boy Scouts in the Saddle.
  10 Boy Scouts for City Improvement.
  11 Boy Scouts in the Great Flood.
  12 Boy Scouts of the Field Hospital.
  13 Boy Scouts with the Red Cross.
  14 Boy Scouts as County Fair Guides.
  15 Boy Scouts as Forest Fire Fighters.

_You can purchase any of the above books at the price you paid for this
one, or the publishers will send any book, postpaid, upon receipt of
25c._

                        HURST & CO., Publishers
                      432 Fourth Avenue, New York


                  Copyright, 1915, by Hurst & Company




                                CONTENTS


  CHAPTER                                                           PAGE
  I. Back From the Fishing Hole                                        5
  II. The Great Undertaking                                           16
  III. On Duty at the Fair                                            28
  IV. The Fakir and His Dupe                                          40
  V. A Credit to the Uniform                                          52
  VI. “Strike While the Iron Is Hot!”                                 63
  VII. Sowing the Seed                                                74
  VIII. A Scout in Trouble                                            85
  IX. The Rift in the Cloud                                           96
  X. One Boy’s Influence                                             108
  XI. Backed by the Scouts                                           120
  XII. At the Station                                                131
  XIII. How It Turned Out                                            142
  XIV. Stopped on the Road—Conclusion                                148




                 The Boy Scouts as County Fair Guides.




                               CHAPTER I.
                      BACK FROM THE FISHING HOLE.


“You know, boys, a whole lot depends on what kind of weather we have
during Fair week!”

“How about that, Arthur? You’re the weather-wise scout of Oakvale
Troop.”

“Yes, give us your forecast, Arthur; has the rain let up for keeps?”

“So far as that goes, Alec, I notice in the morning paper it’s turned
clear all the way from the Rockies east, and that ought to mean a good
spell of several days for us.”

“Unless one of those howlers comes twisting up the Atlantic coast from
the West Indies; you want to remember that the hurricane season isn’t
quite over yet.”

“Nothing of the kind in sight, and I always look up every scrap of
weather news in the papers.”

“You make me happy when you say that, Arthur, old weather sharp. We get
our afternoons off from school while the County Fair is on, because it’s
such a big thing for Oakvale and vicinity. I’m trying to figure out what
I can do to have a cracking good time of it.”

“So are we all, Tom, but there’s no use trying to hike off somewhere
with the whole troop. You can’t do much on an afternoon. Why couldn’t
they have fixed it so we would get free the last half of the week,
including Saturday?”

“Tell that to the school directors, Alec. Perhaps they’ll take pity on
you and change the programme. I doubt it, though. I reckon they want the
boys to be around while the Fair is going on.”

“I’ve figured out that my scheme is to hang around the Exhibition and
see the aëroplane man do his stunts every afternoon; but I’d rather be
in camp any day.”

The three boys whose chatter opens this chapter had been tramping along
the main road leading into the town of Oakvale, where they all lived. It
was on a Saturday afternoon in early fall. That the lads had been
spending part of their holiday in fishing was in plain evidence, for
besides carrying either bamboo poles or jointed rods, they dangled
strings of yellow perch, some of the catch being of extraordinary size.

On their way home the boys had stopped to scan a highly- poster
on a billboard at the side of the road, where people in the passing
trains nearby could also have the benefit of the information thus
blazoned forth.

About this time every year the big County Fair was held on the extensive
grounds near the thriving town of Oakvale. If wonderful promises meant
anything at all the coming exhibition of live stock, farm products, and
the like would far surpass anything heretofore attempted.

Besides, there would be racing on the track, amazing feats undertaken by
an aëroplane aviator of national renown, balloon ascensions accompanied
by parachute drops, “and other attractions too numerous to mention.”

Having looked over the poster and commented on its most prominent
features, the trio of weary lads again turned their faces toward home,
now not half a mile away.

It might be noticed that all of them wore rather faded suits of khaki,
showing that they belonged to the local troop of Boy Scouts. In addition
to the ordinary badges they also proudly displayed certain merit badges
to prove that they had qualified along certain particular lines of
scoutcraft.

Another thing that might have been noticed was that Alec, Tom and Arthur
all displayed bronze medals, which would tell anyone acquainted with
scout customs and laws that these lads had saved human life at some time
in their past.

While, after rather an exhausting day, they are trudging slowly toward
home with heavy feet, it may be a good time for us to take a glimpse
into the past, in order to understand just who the three boys are, and
also mention a few important things in connection with the troop to
which they belong.

The town of Oakvale lay in the East, and not a great many miles away
from the Atlantic Ocean. Those who have read previous volumes in the
series know just why scout affairs were booming in the town. The scout
master, Lieutenant Denmead, a retired army officer, took the greatest
delight in fostering a spirit of manliness among the boys in his charge.
His assistant, Hugh Hardin, who was also the leader of the Wolf Patrol,
chanced to be a wide-awake chap, and just the kind to push any
enterprise along to success.

The troop now consisted of five patrols, and as a rule they were filled
to their utmost capacity of eight members each. The Wolf had been first
in the field, but as the interest grew and new members joined, there had
arisen the Hawk, Otter, Fox and Owl Patrols.

Alec Sands was leader of the Otter, and had at one time been a keen
rival of Hugh Hardin; but all hard feelings were eventually buried, and
they were warm friends. Arthur Cameron proudly carried the patrol colors
of the Wolf; and while interested in wireless telegraphy, weather
predictions, and even photography, perhaps his strongest point lay in
his surprising skill in amateur surgery and first aid to the injured.

Tom Sherwood was also an Otter, and a husky fellow, fond of water
sports, and with a hobby along the lines of surveying work.

It can be readily seen from a casual glance at some of the titles of
previous books in the series that the boys of Oakvale Troop had passed
through considerable experience well worth while.

Since the opportunity to investigate for themselves is open to all
readers who would like to learn more about these interesting phases of
their past, there is no necessity for our taking up much space here in
mentioning details.

Still, it might not be amiss to say that in the preceding spring, during
the time of the heavy rains, Hugh and several others of the troop proved
themselves to be of exceedingly great value to the citizens of a town in
another part of the State. This was when a disastrous flood threatened
the community with destruction, and human lives were placed in deadly
peril by the quickly rising water.

On that occasion Hugh had actually saved a boy of the town who would
otherwise have been carried down with the bridge. His act had been
witnessed by hundreds of people, and is talked about to the present day
as a fine example of presence of mind and prompt action.

On account of having thus saved a human life at great risk to himself,
Hugh Hardin had received from Headquarters a gold medal, the highest
honor that any scout can ever hope to gain. Being a very modest fellow,
however, Hugh did not often wear this token of appreciation, though he
was proud of it all the same.

It may interest the new reader to know just how Alec, Tom and Arthur
came by the bronze medals they wore. During the preceding summer the
main part of the troop had gone camping, and it happened that at the
time there was a strike of laborers in a large cement works not far
distant. When the company imported strike-breakers, and employed guards
to protect the property, the foreign strikers grew furious.

So it came about that there was a serious riot during which many of the
ignorant strikers were shot. It might have been called a one-sided
battle, for a dozen men, and some women as well, were more or less
seriously injured.

In this terrible crisis Hugh Hardin and some of his scouts came on the
scene. With the usual promptness that characterized his actions, Hugh
had started a temporary field hospital. Having learned the first
principles of caring for gunshot wounds he and Arthur, assisted by
others of the troop, managed to stop the flow of blood in such a way
that when the Red Cross surgeon and nurses reached the scene later on,
they declared that the work of the scouts merited the highest praise.
Indeed, they went even further, and said that were it not for the prompt
aid afforded by the young surgeons one or more lives might have been
lost.

And since those wise gentlemen at the head of the great movement for the
uplift of boys are always quick to recognize real merit, a bronze medal
had soon come to every member of Oakvale Troop who had been instrumental
in the work of that field hospital.

Since that time things had gone as usual. Some of the boys had gone on
summer vacations. Those who remained at home fished, went swimming,
played baseball, tennis, and even camped for a week.

Then school had brought back the absent ones, and once more scout
affairs began to pick up. Thanksgiving would be the next little
breathing spell. At present, the School Board had decided that during
the time of the County Fair there was to be only a morning session for
all the scholars. Of course, this was intended as a means for letting
them attend the Exhibition, and acquiring more or less knowledge along
many lines; for Oakvale was proud of having been chosen as the regular
site for this yearly Fair.

“I want to tell you that I’m not sorry to be so near home,” Tom Sherwood
observed, after they had arrived at the border of the town, where the
break-up of the little fishing party would take place.

“But we haven’t been wasting our day, understand,” added Alec, as he
held up his fine string of perch and noticed that one of them still
showed signs of life, in spite of the fact that they had tried to knock
each captive on the head when taken so as to avoid needless suffering,
as every true scout should do.

“Who’s that hurrying this way, and waving his hat?” demanded Arthur.
“Looks like Billy Worth—yes, there isn’t another fellow in the troop
with his width.”

“And his capacity for making away with the grub when in camp, you want
to add,” laughed Tom. “But he certainly looks excited, fellows. Listen
to him giving the Wolf call, will you? I wonder if anything can have
happened here in town since we started fishing this morning?”

The very idea quickened their footsteps, and in another minute they were
joined by the stout lad with the jolly face, who was one of the original
members of Oakvale Troop, as well as a staunch supporter and admirer of
his patrol leader, Hugh Hardin.

“Billy the Wolf,” as Billy Worth was sometimes called, seemed to have
been running, for he was a little short of breath.

“What’s all this mean, Billy?” asked Alec, with something of his old
imperiousness, for once upon a time Alec had been of a domineering
nature. “Tell us why you’re stopping us on the highway like this? Has
there been a fire? Is the school burned to the ground? Anybody sick, a
runaway happened, a child lost in the woods and the scouts needed to
find it? Speak up, can’t you? and relieve this fierce strain.”

“Why, it’s this way, fellows,” said Billy, between gulps, “the Fair
management has asked the Oakvale Scouts to pitch a tent on the grounds,
show people how they live in camp, act as guides to strangers in town,
meet trains at the station, set up an emergency cot in another tent
where first aid to the injured can be found, and—and, pretty much run
the whole business this year! What d’ye think of that now for a big
honor to Oakvale Troop?”




                              CHAPTER II.
                         THE GREAT UNDERTAKING.


There was a brief interval after Billy had blurted out this astonishing
news. The other three scouts stared at one another as though they could
hardly grasp the full significance of the information.

Then, as if a signal had been given, every one of them dropped his
fishpole and string of finny trophies, snatched off his hat, and, waving
it above his head, let out a series of cheers.

A mule that had been feeding in a lot near by kicked up his heels and
started galloping wildly about his enclosure, doubtless under the
impression that war had been declared, and the initial battle begun. A
stray cur, in the act of skulking past, sped furiously down the road,
evidently believing that it could almost hear the clatter of a tin can
tied to its tail, though of course, scouts are never guilty of such a
cruel proceeding.

“That’s great news you’ve given us, Billy!” declared Alec. “I can see
that the good people of our home town pin a lot of faith in Oakvale
Troop of Boy Scouts.”

“Well, they ought to,” said Billy promptly. “We’ve certainly been a
credit to the community,—excuse my blushes, boys. But our record speaks
for itself, you know.”

“Yes,” added Tom Sherwood, “and only for the scouts, Oakvale to-day
would be the same dirty little old town it used to be, with waste paper
blowing all around, and nobody taking any pride in keeping things <DW74>
and span. The women all said they had tried to clean up and failed; but
when our troop offered to lend a helping hand the improvement was
effected.”

“It’s too near supper time to do much talking about the wonderful news
you’ve brought us, Billy,” said Arthur. “I suppose it’ll be the main
line of topic of discussion at the regular weekly meeting to-night.”

“Yes,” said Billy, “and Hugh means to ’phone every member he can reach,
so there’ll be a heavy attendance. The Fair begins on Wednesday, you
remember, and we ought to know just what we expect to do along a dozen
lines.”

“It strikes me as an elegant thing,” asserted Alec.

“Finest that ever came down the pike,” Billy agreed. “To think what
glorious times we can have, and how we’ll be able to scatter seeds of
information about scout activities among the rubes who attend the great
Fair. Some of them really believe scouts are banded together just to
play pranks and have fun. We’ll have the biggest opportunity to take the
scales off their eyes.”

“And to think, Billy,” Arthur commented, his eyes sparkling, “that while
we walked along the road just now all of us were trying to figure out
what possible use only afternoon vacations could be to boys, when it was
impossible to go off on any hike. Now we can see a dozen ways where
we’ll be able to have a good time.”

Billy laughed.

“Yes, we all know what _you’d_ call a good time, Arthur,” he jeered.
“Chances are you’ll stick by that emergency tent hospital like a leech,
and almost hope some old farmer may drop a pitchfork on his foot and
need attending to; or a dog bite a boy who’s been badgering him, so
you’ll have to cauterize the wound.”

“That’s right,” added Alec. “Arthur is never so happy as when he’s
making other people miserable—of course, you understand what I mean. In
reality he’s trying to relieve their suffering and danger, even if it
does hurt. But I must get along, boys; it’s six o’clock, and we have
supper promptly at half-past. I’m as hungry as a wolf, if any of you
know what that means.”

“Most of us think it means Billy the Wolf!” laughed Arthur, as he too
started off, headed for home, dangling his hard-earned string of perch
at his side.

The meeting that night was well attended, for if there had been any
dubious ones who had fancied at one time they were really too tired
after a holiday to come out, the urgent message from Hugh Hardin over
the wire had changed their minds.

It happened that Lieutenant Denmead was out of town on some