Boys / Men Books

CHAPTER I. "Can you make out any sign of the mesa yet, Pete?" The speaker, a sun-bronzed lad of about seventeen, mounted on a bright bay pony with a white-starred forehead, drew rein as he spoke. Shoving back his sombrero, he shielded his eyes from the shimmering desert glare with one hand and gazed intently off into the southwest. "Nope; nary a speck, so fur. Queer, too; we ought to be... more...

CHAPTER I SPIES IN THE BOY SCOUT CAMP Gates, the United States Secret Service man, closed the door gently and remained standing just inside the room, his head bent forward in a listening attitude. Ned Nestor and Jimmie McGraw, Boy Scouts of the Wolf Patrol, New York City, who had been standing by a window, looking out on a crowded San Francisco street, previous to the sudden appearance of the Secret... more...

CHAPTER I "Elmer said we'd take a vote on it!" "Yes, and tonight the next regular meeting of the Hickory Ridge Boy Scout Troop is scheduled to take place, so we'll soon know where we stand." "Thith hath been a pretty tame thummer for the cwowd, all told, don't you think, Lil Artha?" "It certainly has, as sure as your name's Ted Burgoyne. Our camping out... more...

CALLED TO ACTIVE SERVICE "What's this call for a special meeting of the Boy Scouts, Jack?" asked Pete Stubbs, a First Class Boy Scout, of his chum Jack Danby, who had just been appointed Assistant Patrol Leader of the Crow Patrol of the Thirty-ninth Troop. "Well, I guess it isn't a secret any more," said Jack. He and Pete Stubbs worked in the same place, and they were great... more...

THE THIRD OF JULY "You can't go in that room." "Why can't I?" "Because that's the orders; and you can't smoke in this room." Bart Stirling spoke in a definite, manly fashion. Lemuel Wacker dropped his hand from the door knob on which it rested, and put his pipe in his pocket, but his shoulders hunched up and his unpleasant face began to scowl. "Ho!"... more...

THE COLLISION “Isn’t it a grand and glorious feeling?” exclaimed Bob Layton, a tall stalwart lad of fifteen, as he stretched himself out luxuriously on the warm sands of the beach at Ocean Point and pulled his cap a little further over his eyes to keep out the rays of the sun. “I’ll tell the world it is,” agreed Joe Atwood, his special chum, as he burrowed lazily into the hollow he had... more...

CHAPTER I THE FROG HUNTERS "How many greenback saddles does that last bullfrog Max shot make, Toby!" "T-t-thirteen, all t-t-told, Steve." "Ginger! that's going some for so early in the spring season, isn't it? I'd like to get about twenty before we quit, which would make just five for each of us, Max, Bandy-legs, you and myself. And seems like we ought to knock over... more...

CHAPTER I BREWSTER'S CENTRE Maybe you think just because scouts go camping in the summer time, and take hikes and all that, that there's nothing to do in the winter. But I'm always going to stick up for winter, that's one sure thing. Anyway, this story isn't exactly a winter story, it's a kind of a fall story—lightweight. Maybe after this I'll write a heavyweight... more...

Chapter XVIII. The Prince with the tramps. The troop of vagabonds turned out at early dawn, and set forward on their march.  There was a lowering sky overhead, sloppy ground under foot, and a winter chill in the air.  All gaiety was gone from the company; some were sullen and silent, some were irritable and petulant, none were gentle-humoured, all were thirsty. The Ruffler put 'Jack' in... more...

THE STORY OF LITTLE BLACK SAMBO. Once upon a time there was a little black boy, and his name was Little Black Sambo. And his mother was called Black Mumbo. And his father was called Black Jumbo. And Black Mumbo made him a beautiful little Red Coat, and a pair of beautiful little blue trousers. And Black Jumbo went to the Bazaar, and bought him a beautiful Green Umbrella, and a lovely little Pair of... more...