"It's that Slavin crowd!" exclaimed Jack, as he gained his feet.
"Let's capture some of them, then!" shouted William, always ready for battle, as was also Bluff Shipley, whose hands were never bothered with impediments as was his speech.
A rush was made for the bushes, and retreating footsteps announced the hasty departure of the enemy.
None of the new scouts seemed to care about following very far. They knew Ted of old, and feared lest they be drawn into a trap, so that their last condition would be really worse than the first.
"No damage done, after all," remarked Paul, as he brushed off his clothes; while the others gathered around, and Nuthin' came down to secure the treacherous rope.
"Barked my shins some, now; and sooner or later I've just got to take it out of that crowd!" muttered William, limping around, and shaking his head.
"Better do it soon, then," observed Bobolink, "for after you've taken the oath of allegiance to the scouts you dassent tackle a feller without losing marks."
"H'm! is that so?" grunted the injured member, regretfully; for to be deprived of the boon of fighting would be taking some of the joys of life away from the pugnacious Carberry twin.
"Fall in again, boys!" said Paul, cheerily.
"Not the same way, I hope, captain!" ventured Bobolink; at which there was a laugh, and the incident seemed closed.
The boys had no doubt but that their rivals must have been observing much that went on in the lighted rooms, possibly also trying to catch what was being said.
"What of it?" demanded Paul, when some one suggested this; "if they heard what I read out of that manual so much the better. Let them subscribe to those rules, and life will be worth living alongside Ted and his cronies."
"But you see they just can't!" declared Bobolink, quickly.
"Which is to say they won't. All right. Once we get out troop formed, public sentiment will be on our side. If they try to worry us the good people of Stanhope, backed by the Women's Club, will see to it that the nuisance is stopped. Isn't that so, Paul?" remarked Jack, with conviction in his voice.
"Them's my sentiments, as some character in fiction used to remark. We can afford to laugh at all these little plans to annoy us. Of course, if they go too far, why we may have to turn and do something ourselves," said Paul, seriously.
"Bully! Hasten the time!" cried William, ceasing to limp for the moment in his new delight.
"Oh! but Paul doesn't mean a regular give and take fight. If we pitch in at all, I'm afraid it'll have to be doling out punishment in the way the good dad does when he plies the stick and says it hurts him worse than it does the bad kid," declared Bobolink; at which there was a roar.
On the following day there was more or less skirmishing about town by various eager lads, seeking recruits for the rival troops.
Paul was as busy as a beaver, and at several points conferred with some of his followers. He had sent for more manuals, besides a price list of uniforms, and other equipments necessary to the complete organization of the Fox Patrol and Stanhope Troop No. 1.
Leading citizens began to take an interest in the movement, as they grew to understand its true significance. Stanhope seemed to be fairly sizzling with a new and novel energy. Even the meeting of the Women's Club that afternoon was given up partly to a discussion of the merits of the Boy Scout wave then sweeping over the land; and ladies who had been decidedly averse to such a thing found their eyes opened to its beneficial accompaniments.
As was to be expected, the recruiting was not confined to Paul and his chums. Ted Slavin and Ward Kenwood were just as vigorously employed; and several times in the course of the day the rivals ran across each other while engaged in thus drumming up new subjects for initiation.
On such occasions there was apt to be something in the way of verbal fireworks passing between the opposing scouts. Ted Slavin seldom knew how to bridle that tongue of his; and Ward Kenwood seemed to be in a nasty humor himself.
To tell the truth there had long been a sort of rivalry between Paul and Ward over the smiles of pretty Arline Blair; and latterly the high school girl seemed to be giving young Morrison more than his share of her company.
That afternoon about four o'clock, as Paul and two of his chums were passing along one of the side streets of the town they came upon a scene that caused a sudden halt.
The blustering voice of Ted Slavin was what first drew their attention; and it seemed to come from around the next corner. Then followed a quavering voice, pleading in its tone.
Paul looked at his friends, and his brow darkened.
"It's old Mother Martha, the market woman who sells things in her little stall around here. And some of those mean skunks are plaguing her, like they often do, she tells me, stealing her apples, and laughing at her, because she's lame with the rheumatism, and can't chase after 'em!" said William, who happened to be one of the trio brought to a halt so suddenly.
"Come on, then; we can't stand that!" exclaimed Paul.
The boys hurriedly turned the corner, to find that what William had suggested seemed to be the actual truth.
Ted and a follower were hovering near the poor old woman. The fact that Ted was contentedly munching a red apple told that he had already made his hawk-like descent on the stand of the market woman, and was now seeking to distract her attention so that his companion might also swoop down to seize a prize, when they would go off, laughing uproarously, as though they considered it a huge joke.
Paul was on the bully in a flash, and almost before Ted knew of his presence he had torn the apple from his grasp and hurled it far away.
"Get out of this, you coward!" exclaimed the scout leader of the new patrol, as he gave Ted Slavin a push; "I'm going to speak to the chief of police about the way you rob this good woman, and see if he won't stop it. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, both of you!"
William and Bluff were for jumping at the two offenders, and giving them a lesson then and there; but with both arms Paul held his fire-eaters back.
"Let 'em come on, if they want to mix up with us. We can take care of two, and think it a picnic. P'raps even three wouldn't be too much, if so be you want to try it on, Paul Morrison. Huh! there comes another bunch of your sissies. Seven against two might make it too interestin', so we'd better skip out, Scissors. But you just wait, that's all. I don't forget you laid a hand on me; and some time I'm going to take it out."
"Oh! suit yourself, Ted," answered the other, promptly. "I'm ready to have a go at you when you're ready, if you force me to the wall. I'm not a fighter, but when I see a couple of rowdies treating a poor old woman like you did, it makes me see red."
With derisive jeers the pair faded away as several boys came running to the spot, having seen the group, and guessing from the presence of the two rival leaders that there must be something doing.
Their indignation was boundless when they learned what new meanness the coming of Paul and his two chums had interrupted.
It required considerable persuasion on the part of the scout leader to prevent an immediate chase of the culprits.
"Let them go this time," said Paul, impressively; "but I'm going to see what can be done to put a stop to this rowdyism. It gives the boys of Stanhope a bad name all around. I told Ted I'd speak to Chief Billings about it."
"You won't get any too much satisfaction there," remarked wise Nuthin'; "because, you see the Chief owes his position to the political influence of Mr. Kenwood; and as Ward runs with Ted he won't dare do anything for fear of offending the head of the party. We've justgotto find a way ourselves to change things."
"Well, I'll ask my father about it. Perhaps he can suggest a plan. He used to be a boy himself once, and never forgets it either," was Paul's conclusion, as they each bought an apple from the old woman to make her forget her recent trouble, and then walked away, followed by her earnest thanks.
"Say, but time just crawls along," observed William, dolefully; "because, you see, I'm dying to get to work and win some of them merits you told us about. Just set me the stunt of making water boil over a fire I have to kindle, and I'll do it in three shakes of a lamb's tail. The rest of you will be left hull down. And then there's lots of other jobs that look good to me. Let's get a move on, and start the ball rolling. When's the next meeting, Paul?"
"To-night, and once more at the barn where we were first. This time I figure on having nearly twenty present, and that will make things interesting."
"Same hour as before—eight o'clock?" asked Bobolink.
"Yes. And if any of you feel that you are qualified to take the examination for the first degree, so as to become real tenderfeet in the Scouts, why, I'll be in trim to put you through your sprouts," announced the leader.
"That hits me," declared William; "for I've been studying to beat the band, and believe I'll pass muster with flying colors. Me for the tenderfoot class!"
"And I've just used up a whole ball of twine tying all those measly knots," declared Nuthin'; after which his face brightened when he added: "but I can do every one just like an old jack tar. My dad was once a sailor you know, and that's where I've got the bulge on the rest of you. So-long, boys; I'm going home to try again."
"Who goes there?"
"A scout of the Red Fox Patrol!"
"Advance scout, and give the countersign!"
A figure came shuffling forward, bent over, and whispered a word in the ear of the sentinel at the door of the old tobacco barn.
"Correct! Pass in, scout!" said the one on guard, solemnly.
But William chose to loiter by the door, and watch the gathering of the clans, for the boys arrived rapidly after that, usually in pairs.
"Where's the other twin?" asked Paul, seeing William alone.
"Unavoidably detained, Captain. May be on deck later. Here comes another bunch," and William stepped aside to allow the sentry to halt Andy Flinn, who had arrived in company with Jud Elderkin, the latter as tall and thin as the former was fat and pudgy.
"Pass along, gentlemen," sang out William, after the pair had successfully stood the test; "the animals went in two by two; the elephant and the kangaroo!" and as usual there was a laugh at this sally, which applied so aptly to the couple just entering.
"All here now, Paul," announced Jack Stormways, counting noses in the light of half a dozen lanterns provided by Mr. Shipley, the owner of the barn.
For an hour routine business was transacted.
There were just twenty-one names on the roll now, and all present saving two, Wallace Carberry and another. It was decided to organize two patrols at once, the first to be under the charge of Paul as scout leader, while Jud Elderkin took the Gray Fox crowd.
The more the assembled lads learned concerning the duties and sports of the Boy Scouts, the greater became their enthusiasm. As the evening progressed they were fairly bubbling over with excitement, and it began to look as though the success of the new movement were already assured.
But Paul knew that it must be a constant fight between the natural rough-and-ready, give-and-take spirit which almost every boy inherits from his ancestors, and the new idea that would have him a hero without being a bully or a brawler.
And he was not surprised when, later on, just before they thought of breaking up the meeting, William got the floor on the question of a personal privilege, and threw a bombshell into the camp.
"I'm going to ask a favor of you fellows," he said; "and you can help me break even with that old rooster as well as have some fun. D'ye think you can stand the racket?"
The others crowded around, for they knew very well that when William had anything to propose it usually meant some frolic. But Paul noticed to his surprise that the joker seemed worked up far more than he could ever remember seeing him before, and he scented trouble ahead.
"Who is it this time, William? Tell us about it, old fellow! Of course we're bound to stand by you through thick and thin. That's one of the first duties of a scout, you know. Speak up, and give us a tip!"
It was Jud Elderkin who said this; but that he voiced the sentiments of pretty much the entire group could be judged from the chorus of exclamations that greeted his aggressive speech.
"It's that old grumpy miser, Peleg Growdy," said the orator, waving his hands to emphasize his words. "He never had any use for boys, you know, and often says he wonders why the pests were ever born. I don't remember doing him any mean thing in my life, but he's got it in for the whole creation of boys, I expect."
"What did he do to you?"
"Yes, tell us, William. We'll stand by you, never fear."
"He needs a good lesson, the old skinflint. Tell us what happened!"
William grinned, for he saw that he had already captured the hearts of his comrades, and had small need to fear they would let him seek satisfaction alone.
Jack Stormways was as deeply interested in the outcome as his chum Paul.
He remembered all his father had said at the breakfast table on the preceding day, in connection with this same man Growdy.
William was proceeding to thrill his hearers some more. To hear him talk one might imagine his father was a celebrated lawyer instead of the town blacksmith, for William had a smooth tongue.
"I guess all of you know by this time what some fellers did to Growdy's pigs last Saturday night, painting 'em to beat the band? It's the talk of the town, and lots of folks says that it serves the old crusty just right. But I was tucked away in my little bed alongside t'other twin that night, as snug as two bugs in a rug; and consequently had my littlealibiready to prove I wasn't in the bunch that paid him that sly visit."
"Oh! we all know who did it, never fear!" cried Joe Clausin.
"He spells his name T-e-d!" echoed Bobolink.
"All right. Because some bad boys played that joke on old Growdy he seems to have it in for every mother's son in Stanhope. I met him on the road this afternoon when I was out with a light wagon after some feed. He was on the way to town to deliver a big load of truck. Everybody's entitled to half the road; ain't that the law, fellers?"
"Sure it is, William; but that mean man wouldn't budge for you, hey?" said Jud.
"Not for an inch. Just hauled up there taking two-thirds of the road, and started to light his pipe. I was in a hurry to get along, and thought I could just squeeze by; but I made a mistake, and my wagon got upset in the ditch. He went on, grinning at my trouble, and never offering to raise a hand to help me out."
Exclamations of indignation arose on all sides.
"He needs another lesson, boys!"
"Say the word, William, and we're with you. Guess I might think up a few ways for you to get even with the old skinflint!"
Paul saw that they were rapidly being swayed by their feelings of natural resentment. He had no particular reason for liking Peleg Growdy any more than the balance of the group; but the lesson of returning good for evil had taken full possession of his soul.
Once he would have been only too ready to join in with his chums in redressing what seemed to be a positive wrong; but somehow it was different now.
Before he could speak, however, Jack had elbowed his way into the midst of the excited lads, his face full of determination.
"Wait a bit, you fellows, before you decide what you're going to do. I want to tell you something that ought to interest you."
"All right, Jack; speak up. Any objection to joining in with us and having a little fun while we help a brother even up his score?" demanded a voice.
Then Jack repeated as well as he was able the conversation that had taken place at the breakfast table in his house. He went even further than this, for it happened that he knew something about the old man's past.
"Peleg Growdy is a crabbed old chap, I admit; but perhaps you wouldn't blame him so much if you knew the trouble he has had."
"What was that?" asked one boy.
"His wife and two children were burned to death when his house caught fire many years ago. Another child grew up to be a man, and committed some crime that made him run away. His last one, a daughter, was killed in a railroad wreck. Ever since then the old man shuns people, and just works as if he never wanted to know a living soul."
"That's tough, for a fact!" admitted one boy, slowly.
"But it don't excuse him for hating all boys. What business did he have sitting there and taking two-thirds of the road, to let William upset in the ditch trying to pass him?" demanded Jud, still rebelling.
"Oh! well, that's a rule of the road that isn't always carried out. For instance, the loaded vehicle is generally givenmorethan its half; and William admits he was going light, while the old man carried a heavy load," said Jack.
"Yes, that's so," grunted William, unable to hold out against such logic.
"And perhaps, if he told the actual truth, William would admit that there was room enough for him to pass, if he had been a little more careful!"
"Sure; but I was in a hurry, you understand; and didn't see that the edge of the ditch was crumbly. But he laughed, I tell you, and that riled me!"
"And now you want to bring a dozen and more of your friends down on his place to commit some prank that will make him dislike boys more than ever. It's all wrong, I tell you, fellows, and for one I refuse to lend a hand," and Jack folded his arms as though his mind were made up once and for all.
Paul saw that they were very near a division that might be fatal to the future good of the cause. He wondered whether he could swing the crowd to the other side, like the pendulum of a clock. It would take considerable eloquence, as well as all his powers of leadership to accomplish it; but the crisis was upon them, and he would be false to himself if he did not meet the issue squarely.
"Will you listen to me, fellows?" he said, quietly, stepping forward to occupy the place just vacated by Jack, and managing to whisper to the other in passing: "back me up for all you're worth, and we may win the day!"
"Of course we will! You're the scout leader, Paul, and when you hatch up any game it's sure to be worth the powder. Let her go!" came from Jud, who seemed to be a sort of ringleader in this little rebellion in the camp.
"All right, boys. I'm going to make a proposition that will take your breath away; but I have strong hopes that after what you've listened to from that manual to-night, you'll be ready to back me up," continued Paul.
"We believe in you, Paul. You never fooled us yet; and you never will. What's your queer game?" asked Bobolink, ready to swing over already, such was his faith in the one they had elected their leader.
The boys crowded around Paul, more than eager to hear what his proposal might turn out to be; for novelty always appeals to the average lad.
"All of you know that old Peleg keeps his dooryard in a horrible condition. Why, my mother says she doesn't believe it has been cleaned up in years; and he hardly ever takes the trouble to even put his wagons and that old buggy in the shed. It's a disgrace to the town to have him so near. I've heard that the women talked about asking him to do something to make it look cleaner."
"He's a stubborn old man, and can't be driven, my dad says," remarked Jud.
"Now here's what I'm going to propose. You know he's pretty deaf, and can't hear much that goes on. He used to have a savage dog, but it died a couple of weeks ago, and since then he's been trying to get another, but so far without success. Get that?"
"Yes, but go on, Paul," demanded Bobolink.
"Let's go over to Peleg's in a body," continued the scout leader; "and while he sleeps clean up that dooryard of his so that in the morning he'll just rub his eyes and begin to think the fairies have paid him a visit in the night. And when he learns who did it perhaps he may feel something like you did, William. Don't you see,it'll be rubbing it in good and hard!"
Paul waited to see how his suggestion took.
The boys stared at each other in amazement. It is doubtful whether a parcel of wide-awake lads ever before had such a novel proposition made to them. And perhaps it was the sensational character of the appeal that stirred them more than any desire to return good for evil.
"Count me in that job, Paul," said Jack positively.
He had timed his interruption with exceeding cleverness. Boys are like sheep, and given a bell wether they will follow blindly where the leader goes.
"Me too!" cried Bobolink, quickly.
"Ditto! I'm for the game just as Paul says!" exclaimed Nuthin'.
And every one in the crowd followed suit, laughing at the idea of their turning the tables on the old farmer in such an unheard-of fashion; though several doubtless secretly scoffed at the project, and only agreed because it seemed to be a necessary evil if they wanted to become Boy Scouts.
"There's Growdy's shack and barns!"
"Don't seem to be anything stirring, fellows!"
"Look out for a trap. Once bitten, twice shy. Perhaps he's just laying for some fellers to come along, and play some more paintin' job trick. I heard that he said he would find some way to stop the nuisance!"
This from "Red" Betts, who was known as a cautious chap, and able to vanish at the first sign of danger better than any fellow in town.
"Suppose we hold up here, and send out scouts to see how the land lies? That's the military way of doing it," ventured Bobolink.
"A good idea, and I appoint you, Bobolink, with Jud Elderkin, to carry out the little business," remarked Paul, in a low tone.
"Trot along, you chaps; the rest of us will bunk right here alongside the road and wait till you report," and suiting the action to his words William dropped in his tracks.
A brief time elapsed, and then the pair of spies returned.
"Not a single light in the house, and the coast clear, fellows; so come on!" and Jud waved his long arms as though enjoying his brief assumption of authority to the limit.
It would have doubtless astonished the old farmer had he chanced upon the scene just then. A young moon hung in the western sky, and while giving little light, still the figures of some score of stooping boys might have been discovered, advancing in broken formation along the road.
The leader silently opened the gate leading to the dooryard of Growdy's place. His barns stood near the house, so that the confusion which reigned was all the more noticeable. Its equal had never been known around Stanhope; and could only be expected in the case of a place where a woman's influence for cleanliness had been totally absent during the past ten years.
Over to the stable went some of the boys.
Paul had talked it all over with them as they walked, and each knew what part he was to take in the general clean-up.
To some of them it was simply another form of a lark. Boys are queer creatures even to those who imagine they know them well. They must be doing something all the time. Once get them started in the right direction, and they will labor just as sturdily to bring about a good object, as under other conditions, they would work to play a joke. It all depends on how they begin. And thanks to the sagacity of Paul, he had succeeded in interesting them in the novelty of his proposal.
Some secured rakes and hoes, and began to systematically gather up the scattered loose material that covered the place, ankle deep. Others pushed the wagons, and the old dilapidated buggy, back into the shed in systematic order.
They worked like busy bees, chuckling, whispering and evidently getting considerable fun out of the strange frolic.
Paul himself went over the job to make sure that it had been thoroughly done, and that nothing remained uncared for.
Up to this time fortune had favored the busy workers, since no sound had come about to betray their presence.
"How is it, Paul?" asked Jack Stormways, as he ran across the other in making his rounds.
"About at the end. The boys are putting the old tools back where they found them; and then we can go home. It's the best half hour's work any of us have done for a good while, I tell you, Jack."
"Some of the boys don't seem to think it quite so funny now as when they started in. They say they can't see where the pay is going to come in, and have begun to grumble," whispered the other.
"Perhaps it never will, and again, who knows what might come out of this? Anyhow, the ladies will be glad to see this dirty place clean for once. Some others I know may take a notion that if Old Growdy can clean up they ought to. Listen! what in the world is that?"
A rattling of tin pans came to their ears, as if one of the boys in prowling around had accidently upset a bench on which a milk bucket and some flat tinware had been airing.
"That settles it! He'll hear all that row and be out on us in a jiffy!" said Paul, annoyed because the affair had not gone off according to schedule.
"Look! there's a light sprung up inside the house. He's getting his trousers on, all right, and the sooner we skip out the better!" declared Jack.
The boys now came running from every direction, while sounds from within the nearby farmhouse told that Old Peleg must be switching on his heavy boots.
So Paul, knowing that the only thing left now was a hasty flight, gave the signal arranged for. It meant every fellow for himself until they had put a reasonable distance between themselves and the seat of danger. Then they could meet at a given place, and go home, laughing over the whole affair, and wondering what Peleg would think when he saw what a miraculous transformation had taken place while he slept.
Paul happened to be the very last to run away. Instead of passing out by way of the gate as most of the others did, Paul started to pass over the fence at an inviting point, where two of the bars seemed to be down, and he could gain the adjoining woodlot, from which he might reach the road at his pleasure.
But alas! the best of plans often go amiss. And that gap that yawned in the fence proved a delusion and a snare.
Hardly had Paul made the jump over the two lower bars than he found himself suddenly jerked down, and his head came with a crash on the ground, causing him to see a myriad of stars.
Nor was this all. An unknown power at the same time seemed to lift his lower extremities up in the air at least two feet, so that he appeared to be trying to swim on dry land.
For a moment he was puzzled to account for this remarkable happening; but as his head cleared a bit, and the stars ceased to shoot before his mental vision, he began to get an idea as to what had happened.
Apparently the fellows who had painted the farmer's pigs on the other night must have entered his place from the woods, and through this gap in the fence.
Old Peleg had remembered, and anticipating another invasion sooner or later, he had succeeded in arranging some sort of ingenious trap on the spot.
In jumping Paul had set off the trigger, with the consequence that a noose had instantly tightened around his ankles, and a hogshead partly filled with stones, starting to roll down the slope, had drawn his legs upward.
Well, at any rate there he was, clinging to the grass, and with an unseen force pulling at his elevated feet, so that he was helpless to assist himself.
It was very funny, no doubt, but Paul hardly felt like laughing, just then. He tried to wriggle around so as to get at the loop, in the hope that he might loosen the same; but all his efforts were wasted.
Old Peleg had builded better than he expected when he set that trap in which to catch his tormentors.
He was coming now to see the result of his cunning. No doubt he had heard the tremendous rattle as the bulging barrel of stones started to roll down the slope after being liberated; for even a deaf man could hardly have missed that racket. Lantern in hand he was even now hobbling along, chuckling in anticipation of what he would find in his trap.
Closer came the limping farmer. Paul saw now that he held a vicious black whip in his right hand, while gripping a lighted lantern in the other.
Laughter in the distance told that the boys had all taken themselves off. They could not suspect what a dire calamity had befallen their leader, or a rescue party must have certainly been formed.
Another minute and Peleg had arrived at the fence, and bending over held the lantern so that its light fell upon the figure of his captive.
"Gut ye, have I? Mebbe ye'll try to paint some critters of mine agin, an' mebbe ye won't!" said the farmer, as he raised the ugly black whip which he held, with the evident intention of bringing it down good and hard on the helpless boy.
"Wait, Mr. Growdy!" Paul hastened to exclaim.
The old man laughed harshly as he flourished the whip. Perhaps he had never struck a boy before in all his life, and hardly knew how to begin; but his temper was plainly disturbed, and he meant to make a start.
"What should I wait fur, when I cort ye in the very act? Paint my critters red, white an' blue, will ye? P'raps ye wanted to pull all the feathers out o' my flock o' chickens this time, an' think it funny. Sarve ye right if I gi'e ye a dozen stripes!"
"Mr. Growdy, I did you a favor once!" said the prisoner of the trap, wishing to keep the old man as long as possible from starting operations.
"Say ye so? Wall, this wipes it out then. Who air ye, anyway?"
The farmer bent lower, and thrust his lantern so that its light would fall upon the face of the boy. Immediately he uttered a grunt, for it was plain that he had recognized his captive.
"So, it's ye, is it, Paul Morrison? This is some surprise, seein' as ye're the last boy I'd expect to be up ter sech meanness. What d'ye think yer father'll say w'en he hears 'bout this?"
"I guess he'll laugh, and say it was about the cutest trick ever played on you, Mr. Growdy," came the immediate answer; "but please get me down from this. Perhaps the blood will all run to my head. Tie my hands if you want, and fix it so I can't run away; but I couldn't stand this long."
"So ye think yer father'd larf, do ye? I never wud 'a' b'lieved Doctor Morrison was the kind o' man to encourage practical jokes on anybody," grumbled the old man, plainly at a loss to understand what was meant.
"Well, he isn't, and I'd be sorry to have him know I was guilty of such a thing. But you're barking up the wrong tree, Mr. Growdy, I give you my word we none of us had any trick in mind when we came here to-night."
"Then what took you in my dooryard here; for I heard a pack runnin' away when I kim out of the house? Tell me that, Paul," insisted the farmer; but the hand that held that cruel looking whip had fallen to his side, which was a good sign.
"I'll be only too glad to do so if you let me up. Tie my hands, my legs too if you want, sir; but I'm getting dizzy from having my head below my heels."
Peleg stooped still closer. He again held the lantern down so that he could look into the face of his prisoner; after which he did something that Paul had hardly expected—bent over, seized the rope connected with the laden hogshead, and pulling hard succeeded in casting the loop that had just encircled Paul's ankles, over a post of the fence.
"Get up, Paul!" he said, grimly, yet with a flicker of curiosity in his wrinkled face; as though a dim suspicion that there might be something out of the ordinary back of this, had begun to take possession of his mind.
Paul regained his feet, a little wobbly to be sure, for he had experienced a bad fall, and his head felt rather tender where it had come in contact with the hard ground.
"Thank you, Mr. Growdy. And now I'm going to tell you something. Perhaps you will find it hard to believe me, and again you may not just appreciate our way of taking matters in our own hands, when the request of the women of Stanhope didn't have any effect. Look around your dooryard, Mr. Growdy. Do you see anything changed here?"
The farmer held up the lantern, and what he saw caused him to utter an exclamation.
"Ev'ry one o' 'em gone, by hokey! If so be ye've smashed all my rigs, Paul Morison, I'll have the law on ye, as sure as my name's Peleg Growdy!" he roared, aghast at what he deemed a serious discovery.
"Come with me, Mr. Growdy. Notice as you go that this place doesn't look much like a pigpen now. In fact, I calculate it's as clean as any dooryard around Stanhope. Even the ladies can drive past now without being shocked. And Mr. Growdy, if you will take the trouble, sir, to look under that wagon shed, you'll see every one of your vehicles just where they should be when not in use!"
The old man stared, as well he might.
"By gum!" Paul heard him mutter; and the words seemed to express the situation so well that the boy could hardly keep from laughing outright.
Finally the puzzled farmer turned and looked at the lad who stood there beside him. Easily might Paul have made his escape at any time now; but that was really the last thing he thought of doing. He would much rather remain and see the bewilderment of Peleg Growdy reach its conclusion.
"Look here, Paul, what's this hull thing mean?" finally demanded the farmer.
And Paul, remembering the fact that the old man was hard of hearing, raised his voice as he thought fit when making reply.
"Do you want me to tell you the whole thing, sir?"
"I sartin do, every word. Blest if I kin make head or tail out o' it. Reckons as how them leetle fairy twins ye read about must 'a' ben workin' wile I slept; er else I'm dreamin' things that caint be true."
"Listen, Mr. Growdy," Paul went on. "Perhaps you may not know that we have started a troop of the Boy Scouts here in Stanhope. Some twenty of us have joined, and later on we hope to get uniforms, and other things needed, when we have earned the money to buy them. Those boys you heard running away were my friends and comrades, every one going to be a true scout."
"Soldier bummers then, out on a raid, and ready to kerry off everything they kin lay hands on," grumbled the old man, still unable to grasp the true condition of affairs.
"At a meeting to-night in Mr. Shipley's barn we made further progress looking to perfecting our organization. But boys will be boys, you know; and one of our number asked the rest to help him get even with you, because you forced him into the ditch this afternoon, upsetting his wagon."
Old Growdy moved uneasily.
"I was real sorry to see William do that. If he'd only waited till I lighted my pipe I 'spected to pull out a leetle more, so's to let him git by; but he was that impatient he must push on," he said.
"Just as I thought. Well, Mr. Growdy, one of the rules of the scouts is that a member must never return an evil deed by another of the same kind. I proposed that we try to make you change your mind about detesting all boys. So we came here, not to paint your pigs as some other fellows did, I'm told; not to let your stock loose, or run off with your wagons; but to clean up your dooryard, and give you the greatest surprise of your life when you came out in the morning!"
"Sho! now. That takes the cake!"
"When one of my chums upset that bench by accident, and the pans fell with a racket, of course it gave the whole thing away, and we started to run; but unfortunately I happened to drop into your nice little trap, and you found me upside down. That is all, Mr. Growdy. Do you want to whip me now, or take me in to the lockup, which?"
Peleg Growdy found himself strangely thrilled as he looked into that frank, smiling face of Paul Morrison.
For almost a full minute they stood thus.
Then Peleg spoke.
"Reckon as how them comrades o' yers must 'a' gut a long start by now, Paul. S'pose ye see if ye kin ketch up with 'em, son."
That was all, but as Paul hurried off he was conscious of a strange feeling deep down in his breast; and he felt sure that after all it had paid. Peleg Growdy at least had met with the surprise of his life. After this possibly his ideas of juvenile depravity might undergo a violent change; for such positive natures as his usually swing from one extreme to the other, just like the pendulum of a grandfather clock.
Paul did not catch up with his fleeing comrades, for they had secured too good a start. When he reached the rendezvous, however, he found them there, one and all, and wondering what could have happened to detain him.
Loud were the expressions of astonishment as he calmly announced that having been caught in a trap, he had held a face to face talk with Peleg Growdy himself; when he managed to relate the whole surprising adventure the boys were stunned at the possible consequences of their little prank.
Those who had considered it only in the light of a joke began to see that Paul had something deeper in mind when he proposed such a thing.
All the way home Paul was kept busy repeating some of the things he had said to the irate farmer. It gave those lads something to ponder over when by themselves. Possibly they had never before realized what a powerful lever for good such a method of returning a grudge may become.
Paul himself was delighted. Even if nothing more came of it he could look back to the little adventure with satisfaction such as Ted Slavin and his cronies might never feel with regard to their prank.
And the next morning Paul was not at all ashamed to relate the entire circumstance at the breakfast table. He felt amply repaid when he saw the look of pride upon his mother's face, as she turned her eyes, filled with unshed tears, upon him and said gently:
"I am glad you did it, Paul. I know the history of poor Peleg Growdy; and surely he has had enough of trouble during his life to make him different from the rest of his kind. The milk of human kindness has perhaps been dried up in his breast; yet who knows, my boy, but that you may have set him to thinking by that one little act of yours. I shall never fear for you, Paul, whatever betides."
His father, the doctor, was a man of few words; but that morning when he was going off on his round of visits he did an unusual thing—took Paul's hand, and gave it an affectionate squeeze, while the look that accompanied the action needed no further explanation.
And Paul was many times satisfied.
That day and others saw a growing buzz of excitement in the town of Stanhope. It seemed as though nearly every boy over the age of twelve, yes and even under, might be filled with a burning zeal to join the new troops that were being started under two different scout leaders.
Ward Kenwood had entered heart and soul into the work, which seemed to appeal to him; but there were those who secretly believed he was more concerned about opposing his rival, Paul Morrison, than in building up a second troop of scouts that would be a credit to the place.
Ted Slavin, of course, worked hand in glove with his friend, Ward. If money counted for anything they had no reason to complain; for inside of a week there blossomed out numerous boys clad in the new khaki uniforms that distinguish the Boy Scouts everywhere.
Some of Paul's friends felt grieved because they had failed to get their equipments as soon as the others; but nothing could disturb the scout leader.
"You'll see that they are bound to meet up with a snag when they apply for admission to the real organization. They can't subscribe to many of the rules. Then again you know that the real scout scorns to receive his uniform as a gift. Everything he owns must be earned. But most of us are nearly ready to send for suits. Wait a little longer. The race is not always to the swift."
In this fashion then did wise Paul bring peace to the troubled hearts of those anxious ones. Never a member of the new Fox Patrols that sought an interview with the scout leader but who came away feeling that there was not a cloud in the sky of their future.
In this manner a week, and then ten days, drifted along, with the opening of school looming up in the near future.
Paul had almost forgotten the troubles of his chum when one day he had the fact suddenly brought to his attention again, as Jack came upon him with a face upon which rested the same old cloud of anxiety and grief.
"There, some more gone, Paul!"
"But it's nearly ten days since we talked it over last, and then there were, let me see, I believe six coins left," returned the other, quickly.
"That's true enough. And I can see now that you're wondering why none have been taken all this time, up to to-day," remarked Jack, as he came alongside his chum, who was looking in at a window where sporting goods made a brave display.
"Will Carlo hang around and wait for you a bit?" asked Paul, looking with a smile toward the big Newfoundland dog that had been trotting at the heels of his young master, carrying a basket, in which were several packages from the store.
"Sure. He's well trained, and that is one of the smallest of his stunts, as you know. See, he has laid the basket down, and stands guard over it. I dare any dog in Stanhope to try and take it away. Now, you want to know about my poor old batch of coins!"
"I'm waiting to hear, old fellow," said Paul, tenderly; for he could see that his chum was once again highly charged with emotion.
"I thought I'd try a scheme unbeknown to you," began the other, slowly.
"Perhaps I can guess what you did—was it that you locked the door of your little den, Jack?"
"Well, now, you are a champion guesser, for that was just what I did, every day up to this one—shut down the window, locked the door, and never went up there once," replied his comrade, with surprise written on his face.
"And nothing was missing?"
"Not a coin. I counted six myself this morning when I went upstairs just to get something out of the snuggery."
"Did you forget to lock it after you, Jack?"
"No; but an idea came to me. At the time I thought it a bright one; but now I'm more than half sorry I ever tried it."
"Oh! then you left the door unlocked again on purpose?"
"Yes, and with the window open, at that. The invitation was plain enough," murmured Jack, with dejection in his voice and manner.
Paul seemed to ponder over the matter; and indeed it was quite enough to try any boy's wits.
"Do you happen to know if any fellow called to see you to-day while you were out?" he asked, presently.
"Now, I thought of that, and asked both my brother and Maggie to pay particular attention to it, if any boy stopped over, hoping I would come in."
"Nothing doing?"
"It's kind of queer, but do you know, for a wonder not a single fellow has been at our house this blessed day. Generally half a dozen call to see me, you know, to borrow books from my library, or talk over matters connected with our school society. It just looks as if everything wanted to mix me up worse than ever, and make me think—"
"Never mind what it makes you think," interrupted Paul, quickly, squeezing the arm of his chum affectionately; "let's get down to facts. You know I promised that I'd find out the truth about this matter; and while up to now I've given it mighty little attention, don't think that I've forgotten, Jack."
"I don't; only it bothers me to understand how you can ever expect to find out who's taking my old coins, if I've made a mess of it; and living in the house at that!" rejoined the other, with bewilderment plainly visible on his face.
"Leave that to me. I repeat my promise, and if everything else fails why, what's going to hinder my hiding up there behind some of your stuff, where I can see for myself what happens?"
"Oh!" exclaimed Jack, "that would be a clever idea; but much as I want to know the truth, I'm afraid to!"
"Well, you've got to get over that feeling. No matter what happens it's far better to know the worst; for then it may be remedied. I've heard my father tell of many a desperate case where only heroic treatment, as he called it, brought his patient through. We've just got to try it here, Jack, old fellow. Hello! what d'ye suppose all that row's about?"
"Sounds to me like a runaway horse, from the shouts," declared Jack, quickly forgetting his own personal troubles in the new excitement.
"Look! There's the runaway, and coming this way around the corner. Oh! it was nearly over that time! My heart was in my mouth!" cried Paul.
"There's some one in the wagon, Paul, a little child!" almost shrieked Jack; for the clamor was deafening by now, and ordinary sounds could never have been heard.
No need to tell Paul that. He had just made the astounding discovery himself, and was thrilled with sudden horror.
It was a little boy who was tugging at the lines with a heroism worthy of one twice his size; but such a young person could make no impression on the hard mouth of that terrorized animal.
In the sudden whirl around the corner the lad had come very near being thrown but, and was even now unsteadily trying to regain his balance.
Paul knew that it was an occasion for quick thinking, and even faster doing!
He bounded away from the side of his chum as though on springs, leaving Jack standing there on the curb, filled with eager anticipation, and fears.
It was nottowardthe rapidly advancing horse that the boy ran, but in exactly the opposite direction, as though he were being chased. With the wagon flinging about from side to side, and hindering the progress of the runaway to some extent, Paul believed that he could almost hold his own in the race.
Little by little he meant to let the horse overtake him. Then, at just the right second his chance would come to jump at the animal's head, seize upon the lines close to the bit, and throw his entire weight upon them.
He knew that it called for good judgment, since the slightest mistake would be apt to cost him dear. To be thrown under the iron-shod hoofs of the galloping animal might mean making him a cripple for the rest of his life.
Even that possibility did not daunt Paul. He only saw the frightened face of the little chap who so valorously clung to the lines, and shouted shrilly at the top of his childish voice, as though expecting the usually tractable horse to mind.
A human life in peril—that was one of the cardinal points that must call for action on the part of a true Boy Scout. He might refuse to engage in a sanguinary battle with some rival who had dared him to a fight; but under no conditions must he hold back when the chance offered to do a good deed.
Now the horse was just behind him, and still galloping furiously. If anything, the animal was making more desperate headway than ever, for the outcries on every side seemed to add to his fright.
Every eye was focussed on the runner. One man in a vehicle had drawn in his horse, and with white cheeks watched the remarkable scene.
If any among that throng had reason to send up a silent prayer for the safety of that daring lad just then, surely he might. For the man in the buggy was Doctor Alan Morrison, Paul's own father!
Five seconds passed, but it seemed an hour, a day, a life-time to that man, as his heart ceased to beat, and he gripped the reins convulsively in his clenched hands.
Then the heavens seemed to almost split with the sudden outburst of wild shouts that raced up and down that street.
"He's done it! Hurrah! The boy's stopped him! Bully for Paul Morrison!"
Men shouted, boys shrieked, while women embraced in their tears. The tense strain was over, for willing hands had clutched the lines after Paul's weight had brought the wild runaway to a staggering halt; and the danger was past.
Then ensued a wild scene, everybody trying to get hold of the boy who had known what to do in an emergency, and not only that, but had done it.
Confused, overwhelmed, Paul in the great confusion tried to flee; but while he did manage to duck under many of the hands outstretched to clutch him, it was only to dart into the arms of some one who pressed him to his heart.
And looking up the boy saw above him the face of one whom he loved—his father, who had been a witness to his adventure.
"That was well done, my boy; and I'm glad I saw it!" was all the good doctor said; but Paul never forgot the proud look that accompanied the words.
It would return to him many times in the distant future, when he might be tempted by the fascinations of the world to turn aside from the narrow path which he had chosen to tread; and must ever be a guide and beacon for his footsteps.
Then came Jack, with William, Tom Betts and Bluff Shipley, all nearly wild over the fact that it was their chum who had acquitted himself so well.
Before Paul could make his escape he found his hand gripped by the father of the child in the wagon, who happened to be a prosperous farmer, with whom Doctor Morrison was well acquainted.
"I never could tell you what I think about this, my boy," he said, with deep feeling. "The child's mother'll never forget you, be sure of that. And it ain't right for me to offer you any reward for doing such a fine thing; but I want you to buy something with this ten dollars, that every time you look at it you'll remember little Tod Perkins, what owed his life to you."
"Oh! I couldn't think of it, Mr. Perkins. Why, it was just pie to me, you know. Please don't make me take it!" said the boy, still more confused; but the farmer had already turned away to embrace his child, and there seemed nothing for it but to accept the gift.
"Don't offend him by refusing, Paul; he means well, and perhaps you can buy something with it that will serve as a reminder," said the doctor, always trying to avoid hurting other people's feelings.
"Why, sure, what's to hinder you buying your scout's uniform with it?" declared William at this juncture.
"You certain earned it, if anybody ever did work for what they got!" avowed Bobolink, positively.
"Oh! w-w-why wasn't it m-m-me?" wailed Bluff, in pretended grief.
"Say, do you think you could have nailed that runaway horse, with such an impediment twisting you up?" demanded Bobolink, grinning.
"Well, boys, since you say so, I suppose then I'll just have to accept it, and call my outfit earned by the sweat of my brow," laughed Paul, taking out his handkerchief to wipe his face from its collection of perspiration and dust.
Paul and his chum managed to break away finally, and walk toward the home of the latter. Jack had his arm through that of the other, and it seemed as though he felt happier over the recent exploit than the one who had occupied the centre of the stage.
"My heart seemed to be up in my mouth just when you made that grab for the bit. I believe I would have fallen in a fit if you had gone under, Paul," said Jack, with a big sigh, as he pressed the arm he held.
"Well, I was a little worried myself that something might upset me just then. But luck favored me, you know. I'm more than glad, because it would have given my mother a bad shock if I'd been trampled on. But please drop that subject, old fellow," said Paul, making a wry face.
"I will, since you ask it; but they won't forget it in the town for a long time. Such things happen only once a year or more around dull old Stanhope. To-night we meet to see how many have the money earned for the suits; and I'm glad to say I can cover my needs. You're doubly supplied now, with this windfall."
"Yes, and I wish I could help some other fellow out; but I'm afraid that would be against the rules of the game. Here we are at your house, and bless me if Carlo hasn't carried that basket of provisions straight back to the kitchen door. Say, heisa trump, sure enough, Jack."
"Oh! that's dead easy for Carlo. Why, we often put a nickel in the basket, and send him down to the bakery for a loaf of bread," laughed the other.
"And does he always get it?" asked Paul, looking suddenly interested.
"I don't believe he's failed for six months. Of course Mr. Crusty knows what we want, and wraps the loaf up so as to keep the dust off. Why, that ain't the best of his tricks, by a long shot. I taught him when he was hungry to go—"
"Excuse me, won't you, Jack; there comes father, and I do believe he's heading home long before his usual time. Perhaps he's afraid mother may hear that something has happened to me, and would be anxious. I'd better jump in with him, don't you think? Another time I'll hear all about the wonderful stunts of Carlo."
And so speaking Paul ran out to join his father in the buggy.
Jack looked after him, and sighed heavily. It was not that he felt a particle jealous of the recent exploit which his chum had engineered so successfully; for envy was not one of his failings. But he did wish that his mind was as free from anxiety and suspicion as that of Paul Morrison.
For the mystery of those disappearing coins hung about his neck like a millstone, nor could he ever know peace again until in some way it were explained.
What happened at the Morrison home when the doctor told the story of his boy's heroism no one ever knew; for Paul was not the one to betray family secrets.
But Jack, who understood what an affectionate mother his chum had, could easily imagine how she wrapped her arms about the boy, and pressed him again and again to her bosom, thanking Heaven that the child she had watched grow from babyhood until he was now almost as tall as his father, should show signs of proving himself a worthy successor to the "good Doctor," as every one knew him.
That night the boys had the darkness to contend with when they started for the place of meeting, though the late moon might show her smiling face before the time came for them to return home.
There were just twenty-two who reported at roll call that evening at eight, and one need only glance around at the faces of the boys, both large and small, to be positive that the enthusiasm, instead of dying out, was increasing by leaps and bounds.
When the meeting had been called to order, the one subject that interested those gathered was the question of obtaining their uniforms and other outfit.
A warm discussion arose shortly when Jack asked for information concerning the right of any scout to assist a fellow member who might be behind in earning the necessary amount.
Some believed one way, while others seemed to look at it in another light, and not a few were, as Jack said, "on the fence."
"Listen, fellows, and I'll tell you what I gathered from studying the books on the Boy Scout movement loaned me by the minister. Here are twenty or more of us, and we need just so much money for an outfit. Some can show much more than they need, others fall short, although they may have worked even harder. Is that plain?" and Jack looked around at the eager faces as he put the question.
"It certainly is," remarked Paul, smiling; "some are born rich, others earn riches, and once in a while some lucky chap has the money stuck right in his hand. I'm one of the last class. But go on, Jack; for I know you've got a bright idea that may help us out of this hole."
"The answer is easy, fellows. We must make a common fund. Then every member can put in all he wants, so long as it has been honestly earned. See my plan?"
"Sure, and it goes. That's the answer to the problem. Let's try it out and see how near we can come to the amount needed," said Jud Elderkin, briskly; starting to pass around slips of paper and a pencil.
"Put down what you can hand over to the general fund, each fellow; and remember it means cash, to be delivered to-morrow, and not credit," he announced.
There was the utmost eagerness to carry out the idea, and before five minutes had passed every boy had written his name on a slip of paper, together with the full amount which he could contribute to the general fund.
"I appoint Jud and Bobolink a committee to canvass the vote, and count up the amount subscribed," said Paul, as chairman of the meeting.
It did not take very long, though the two boys were seen to go over their figures several times in order to make sure there could be no error.
"Look at the grins on their faces! Don't that tell the story, fellows! Hurrah!" shouted Nuthin'.
And when the amount was declared it was found that it far exceeded the actual sum needed to purchase uniforms for the entire twenty-two scouts, including hats and leggings.
"Don't forget that I've just got to have a bugle, fellows. What use is it to be elected bugler if you can't bugle?" exclaimed Bobolink.
"And m-m-me for a d-d-d-d-d-drum!" echoed Bluff, excitedly; when he was immediately pounced upon as usual, and pounded several times on the back.
"Yes, do get Bluff something he can beat. I've heard him drum, and he's just a corker at it. It keeps him from talking, you know," laughed Tom Betts.
"Hello!" exclaimed Nuthin' suddenly; "look who's here, fellows!"
All eyes were immediately turned toward the door, and focussed upon the figure that stood just within the barn, having entered while they were boisterously exchanging these compliments.
"Why, it's Mr. Growdy!" said Paul.
"Old Peleg!" echoed Bobolink, in a hushed tone.
One and all stared at the crusty old farmer, who for years had avoided all boys as though he thought them a dangerous breed of animals which it were safer to let severely alone.
When Paul saw the amused smile creeping over the rugged and seamed face of the old farmer he understood that Peleg had really experienced a wonderful change of heart, dating from that night when the new Boy Scouts cleaned up his dooryard as an object lesson.
And now Peleg was coming slowly forward, looking a bit awkward; since he had never been accustomed to facing an audience, and especially one composed of boys.
They made way for him, so that presently he found himself completely surrounded by an eager throng.
"Glad to see you, Mr. Growdy," said Paul, holding out his hand impulsively; and to the surprise of the others it was eagerly seized upon by the calloused fingers of the toiler in the fields; "these are the friends I spoke to you about. And this is the Fox Patrol of the newly organized Boy Scouts."
Peleg grinned, and acknowledged the introduction by ducking his touseled head.
"Glad to meet ye, boys. I've be'n hearin' quite considerable 'bout what ye was adoin' over here, an' I thort as how I'd jest drap in to see ye all; sorter like returnin' yer call, so to speak!" he said, again allowing a humorous look to appear upon his face.
And somehow the boys instantly concluded that when Peleg allowed the lines of his severe face to relax, he was rather a jolly old chap after all.
"Hurrah! Three cheers for Mr. Peleg Growdy!" exclaimed one of those who felt relieved to think that his coming meant no trouble after all.
But the farmer raised his hand.
"Jest wait till I has my little say, boys. Now, at fust I was kinder riled that a passel o' boys shud 'a' took me to task on account o' my way o' lettin' things run loose like at my place. But I gotter thinkin' her over, and by hokey if it didn't jest come home to me. Times was when my dooryard was the puttiest around all Stanhope, with the flowers abloomin', an' every scrap tidied up; but in them happy days Mandy an' the kids was there, ye see; an' sense they was took it 'peared like I never cared what things looked like; an' that's a fact, boys."
The old man seemed to swallow something that threatened to choke him; and then, while the boys hung on his every word, and wondered how they had ever come to misunderstand him as they had, he went on:
"But I kim to the conclusion, arter thet kind visit ye paid me, thet I owed a duty to the community, and it warn't right for any citizen to let his place look disgraceful. So arter this nobody ain't agoin' to be ashamed to pass by the yard where Mandy 'tended the rose bushes, and her tots played from morn to night. I jest drapped in here to thank ye right hearty boys, for showin' me wot was wantin'. Arter this there ain't never agoin' to be any trouble between me an' the boys o' Stanhope. They kin count on old Peleg Growdy to contribute to every sport that goes to cultivate the mind and body in the right direction!"
He seemed a vastly different man as he stood there and said this, for his head was thrown back, his eyes flashed, and his face was almost friendly in its expression, the old haggard look having for the time being disappeared.
"Again I say, three cheers for Mr. Growdy!" called Joe Clausin.
"Wait a bit, fellers. I got somethin' more to say," pleaded the old man, once again lifting his hand to still the rising tumult.
Paul smiled, for he could give a pretty shrewd guess as to what was coming; and it certainly did him good to realize how their odd little scheme was turning out to be such a glorious success.
Every voice was hushed, and once more the throng waited for the farmer to explain.
"I've been ahearin' a good lot about wot ye're all adoin' with this Boy Scout business. Kinder got me interested, an' I borried some books o' the dominie jest so I could understand wot 'twas all about. An' I want to say I like the ijee fust rate. If I hed any boys o' my own," and his voice faltered right there, "I'd sure encourage 'em to jine in with ye. Seein' as I ain't, an' on account o' the good turn ye done me t'other night, boys, I'm goin' to ask a favor o' ye. I ain't got nary a kid to leave my money to when I go; and so I hope ye'll let me pay for fittin' this here Fox Patrol out with uniforms! That's my ijee, boys, an' it'll give me great joy if so be ye take me up!"
They looked at each other for a minute, speechless with astonishment.
Then being real boys they found their voices with a rush. No need now for Tom Butts or Joe Clausin to suggest three cheers. That old barn fairly rocked with the volume of sound that burst forth, as every fellow swung his hat in the air, and tried his best to give his feelings free rein.