Slade with the Colors, by Percy 
K. Fitzhugh 
 
Project Gutenberg's Tom Slade with the Colors, by Percy K. Fitzhugh 
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Title: Tom Slade with the Colors 
Author: Percy K. Fitzhugh 
Illustrator: Thomas Clarity 
Release Date: April 5, 2007 [EBook #20986] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM 
SLADE WITH THE COLORS *** 
 
Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed Proofreading 
Team at http://www.pgdp.net 
 
[Illustration: MISS ELLISON GREETED TOM WITH A 
MYSTERIOUS SMILE. Frontispiece--Page 27]
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TOM SLADE WITH THE COLORS 
BY PERCY K. FITZHUGH 
Author of TOM SLADE, BOY SCOUT TOM SLADE AT TEMPLE 
CAMP TOM SLADE ON THE RIVER 
Illustrated by THOMAS CLARITY 
Published With the Approval of THE BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA 
GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS : NEW YORK 
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Copyright, 1918, by GROSSET & DUNLAP 
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TABLE OF CONTENTS 
CHAPTER PAGE 
I. Tom Makes a Promise 1 II. "Bull Head" and "Butter Fingers" 13 III. 
Roscoe Bent 21 IV. The Cup of Joy 27 V. The Main Trail 40 VI. Tom 
and the Gold Cross 49 VII. The Trail Runs Through a Pestilent Place 
56 VIII. An Accident 60 IX. Roscoe Joins the Colors 66 X. Tom and 
Roscoe Come to Know Each Other 70 XI. Tom Meets a Stranger 79 
XII. Tom Hears of the Blond Beast 85 XIII. As Others Saw Him 93 
XIV. Tom Gets a Job 101 XV. The Excited Passenger 109 XVI. Tom 
Makes a Discovery 116 XVII. One of the Blond Beast's Weapons 124 
XVIII. Sherlock Nobody Holmes 129 XIX. The Time of Day 137 XX. 
A New Job 145 XXI. Into the Danger Zone 152 XXII. S O S 160 XXIII. 
Roy Blakeley Keeps Still--For a Wonder 172 XXIV. A Soldier's Honor 
181 XXV. The Face 190 XXVI. Roscoe Bent Breaks His Promise 199 
XXVII. The End of the Trail 215
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TOM SLADE WITH THE COLORS 
CHAPTER I 
TOM MAKES A PROMISE 
Tom Slade hoisted up his trousers, tightened his belt, and lounged 
against the railing outside the troop room, listening dutifully but rather 
sullenly to his scoutmaster. 
"All I want you to do, Tom," said Mr. Ellsworth, "is to have a little 
patience--just a little patience." 
"A little tiny one--about as big as Pee-wee," added Roy. 
"A little bigger than that, I'm afraid," laughed Mr. Ellsworth, glancing 
at Pee-wee, who was adjusting his belt axe preparatory to beginning his 
perilous journey homeward through the wilds of Main Street. 
"Just a little patience," repeated the scoutmaster, rapping Tom 
pleasantly on the shoulder. 
"Don't be like the day nursery," put in Roy. "All their trouble is caused 
by having very little patients." 
"Very bright," said Mr. Ellsworth. 
"Eighteen candle power," retorted Roy. "I ought to have ground glass 
to dim the glare, hey?" 
The special scout meeting, called to make final preparations for the 
momentous morrow, had just closed; the other scouts had gone off to 
their several homes, and these three--Tom Slade, Roy Blakeley and 
Walter Harris (alias Pee-wee)--were lingering on the sidewalk outside 
the troop room for a few parting words with "our beloved scoutmaster,"
as Roy facetiously called Mr. Ellsworth. 
As they talked, the light in the windows disappeared, for "Dinky," the 
church sexton, was in a hurry to get around to Matty's stationery store 
to complete his humdrum but patriotic duty of throwing up a wooden 
railing to keep the throng in line in the morning. 
"The screw driver is mightier than the sword, hey, Dink?" called the 
irrepressible Roy, as Dinky hurried away into the darkness. 
"All I wanted to say, Tom," said Mr. Ellsworth soberly, "is just this: let 
me do your thinking for you--even your patriotic thinking--for the time 
being. Do you get me? Don't run off and do anything foolish." 
"Is it foolish to fight for your country?" asked Tom doggedly. 
"It might be," retorted the scoutmaster, nothing daunted. 
"I'm not going to stay here and see people drowned by submarines," 
muttered Tom. 
"You won't see them drowned by submarines as long as you stay here, 
Tomasso," said Roy mischievously. He loved to make game of Tom's 
clumsy speech. 
"You know what I mean," said Tom; "I ain't going to be a slacker for 
anybody." 
"You might as well say that President Wilson is a slacker because he 
doesn't go off and enlist in some regiment," said Mr. Ellsworth; "or that 
Papa Joffre is a coward because he doesn't waste his time with a rifle in 
the trenches." 
"Gee whiz, you can't say he's a coward," exclaimed Pee-wee, "because 
I    
    
		
	
	
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