doesnât sound as exciting as some of the other merit badges youâve earned,â the professor had said. âBut soil conservation is very important. We canât afford to lose it.â
âLose what?â asked Sister.
âThe soil,â said Actual Factual.
âThe soil?â said Sister. âHow can we lose the soil? It just lies there.â
âNot always,â said the professor. âAs a matter of fact, weâre losing soil every day. Itâs washing off the riverbanks into the river. Weâre losing it off the mountainsides.â
âIs that why weâre having all those landslides in the mountains?â asked Fred.
âExactly!â said the professor. âIâm working on the riverbank problem. Iâm trying to find out if there are any plants that can hold the soil when the big rains come.â
âHow is it going so far?â asked Sister.
âItâs trial and errorâmostly error. But Iâm making progress,â said the professor. âI plant little patches of different kinds of plants, wait for a big rain, then go see which plants hold their ground.â The scouts thought about that for a moment. âI know it doesnât sound very thrilling,â he said. âBut science isnât all great inventions and wonderful theories. Science is mostly hard work. Trying this, that, and the other until you find something that works.â
âWe understand, professor, and weâd like to work with you on the river,â said Brother.
âRight,â said Fred. âI can work on my stone-skippingâIâm up to three skips.â
âAnd we can bring our bathing suits,â said Sister.
âAnd I can touch base with my friends the frogs and the dragonflies,â said Lizzy.
âAh, but you wonât be working on the river helping me save the riverbank soil,â said the professor. âYouâll be working high in the mountains saving mountain soil.â
âOh,â said Brother.
âThatâs right,â said Actual Factual. âYouâll be doing original research, testing which plants can hold that thin mountain soil in place. Itâll be a real challenge. Working in the mountains is difficult at best. Itâs going to take some real study. The library would be a good place to start. Well, what do you think? Will you do it?â
The scouts huddled for a moment. Then Brother, who often spoke for the scouts, said,
Chapter 4
The Flag Is Up
Ralph had just been putting on a show for the scouts. All that strutting and cane twirling had been a front. As soon as the scouts headed back to the library, the spring went out of his step and the twirl went out of his cane. Even the forest animals knew Ralph wasnât himself as he shuffled along the path to the river. It wasnât until he got close to the riverbank where his houseboat was moored that he quickened his step.
Except that âmooredâ wasnât exactly the right word. âStuckâ was the right word. The backwater where Ralph kept his houseboat was so filled with soil that had washed from the riverbank that it had turned to mud.
But it wasnât the sight of his stuck-in-the-mud houseboat that caused Ralph to quicken his step. It was the flag on his mailbox. It was in the up position, which meant there was mail in the box. And you never knew with mail. It could mean anything. It could mean that one of his big-time swindler friends needed his help on some scheme to sell gold bricks or fake diamonds. Or it could mean nothing.
In this case, it meant nothing. Because the only thing in his mailbox was this monthâs copy of Swindlerâs Magazine. Ralph didnât even bother to open it. It would just have the same tired ads for loaded dice, marked cards, and sucker lists of widows and orphans. What Ralph needed wasnât loaded dice, marked cards, and sucker lists. What Ralph needed was to regain
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Cara Shores, Thomas O'Malley