"Silence!"
The tumult died away as quickly as it had sprung into being, when Paul held up his right hand and made this request.
All being still again, he turned to the grinning old farmer, who was doubtless getting more solid satisfaction out of this new experience than he had obtained from any clever dicker or trade engineered in the last ten years.
"Mr. Growdy," said Paul, with considerable of feeling in his voice, "as the present scout leader of Stanhope Troop No. 1 of the Boy Scouts, I want to thank you sincerely for your generous offer. We all appreciate the kindly spirit that causes you to make it to us. But unfortunately it happens that the rules of our organization will not allow us to accept."
Peleg's face fell several degrees at this.
"Say, couldn't ye jest make an exception this time, boys?" he pleaded. "I'll feel right hurt if I ain't 'lowed to help on this business some. Wot's a hundred dollars beside the new speerit ye've managed somehow to start up in me? If ye need more, by gum! ye kin hev it! I ain't no hog, if I hev let the people think so this long time."
"Sorry to say so, Mr. Growdy, but we can't accept. Besides, we have all earned enough money now to pay for what we need, and expect to send away to-morrow to get our suits," Paul went on; and even while he was talking a bright idea came flashing into his brain.
"Wall, now that's jest too bad, boys. I'd calkerlated to spend that hundred on doin' a good deed, an' ye make me go back home with the same hugged tight in my pocket. I'm sorry it cain't be did, I am, sure," muttered the farmer, shaking his head, and acting like a child that has been cheated out of some anticipated pleasure.
"That doesn't follow, Mr. Growdy," said Paul, in a low but thrilling voice; "if you have set your mind on using that hundred dollars to do a good work, perhaps I might give you a hint where it would fit in mighty well, and make your heart feel warm."
"Hey! wot's that, Paul? I don't understand," exclaimed the man.
"Down just beyond the outskirts of Stanhope there lives a poor widow woman who, I'm told, is in danger of being put out of her home any day now because she has been sick and unable to work so as to pay her rent. If you went to her right now, Mr. Growdy, and put that wad of money in her hand, I'm sure you'd never regret it, sir; and every boy here would thank you just as much as if you paid for his uniform. Isn't that so, fellows?"
A chorus of shouts testified to the fact that Paul had hit upon a popular idea for turning the sudden generosity of the hitherto miserly old farmer to account.
"Who is the woman?" asked Peleg Growdy uneasily.
"Mrs. Jenks, who has three little children to support. Her husband was killed in that blast some years ago, and she never recovered a cent from the mining company, for they burst like a bubble," returned Paul.
"By gum! wot d'ye know about that, now? I reckons as how she lives in one o' my own cottages, which the real estate man, Stebbins, takes keer of fur me. He was tellin' me about some tenant he'd have to put out; but I never noticed more'n that the name was Jenks."
"But now?" ventured Paul.
"It won't be did! No, sir, not by a jugful. I got my team outside, an' I'm goin' straight over to see the widder. I knowed her husband onct too, an' I'm some 'shamed thet I didn't look her up afore," and Peleg started for the door.
"Hold on, Mr. Growdy!" called Paul.
"Hey! wot's doin' now, boys?" demanded the old man, turning to grin again at his new host of young friends.
"You oughtn't to leave here, sir, without giving every boy scout the privilege of shaking hands with you. I'm sure I speak for each fellow when I ask that favor," returned Paul, stepping forward.
Peleg was agreeable, though he blushed like a schoolboy as the scouts, forming in line, walked past him, each seizing his horny hand eagerly, and doing his best to make the old farmer wince with the warmth of his squeeze.
They gave him a parting cheer as he passed out, and the old fellow tried to return the military salute to the best of his ability.
"Well, what do you think of that?" asked Nuthin', when they were once more gathered around their leader for the purpose of further discussion.
"The finest thing that could possibly have happened. We had our frolic; and see what it hatched. After this Peleg Growdy will never be the same grumpy man he was in the past. No boy need longer hesitate to call out to him on the street; for Peleg, I take it, has seen a great light, eh, Jack?" and Paul slapped his chum heartily on the shoulder as he spoke.
"My idea exactly," replied his chum, quickly. "And do you know it made me feel bad the way he spoke of Mandy and the kids. Some of you fellows may not know that he lost his wife and children in a fire that burned his house down while he was away. I'm glad we did that job, and you deserve the praise, Paul, because it was your own scheme."
"Humbug! every one of you chimed in as soon as it was mentioned, and so you're entitled to as much praise as I am. But about those uniforms, boys—hadn't the scout tailor better get to work, going over his measurements again? We want the suits to fit all right, you know."
And in this way did Paul direct the attention of his comrades in another quarter, because it was really unpleasant for him to be placed on a pedestal, as though he were different from the rest of them.
Amid much laughter and joking the measuring went on. Wallace Carberry wielded the tape-line, and Bobolink put down the figures, being closely patched so that no errors could possibly creep in.
So engrossed were they in this interesting business, that no one paid the least attention to their surroundings.
And when a heavy shutter was slowly closed over the one large window of the tobacco barn, the fact went unnoticed.
In fact the meeting was about ready to disband, and one of the boys started for the door to be in advance of his friends, when he made a discovery.
"Who locked this door, fellows?" he called, as he tried in vain to budge the barrier.
Of course this drew the attention of all the rest, and a rush was made for the place of exit. One by one the boys tried to push the door open, but even the stoutest of them failed to accomplish it.
"Who was the last one in?" demanded Bobolink, furiously, as he retired, worsted from the encounter, to allow another a chance at the door.
"Old Peleg Growdy, to be sure; and the door wasn't fastened then. D'ye suppose he did anything to it when he went out?" asked William, as he tried to assist Jud, now straining and pushing in a useless endeavor to move the heavy door.
"That's nonsense," said Paul, as he pointed to the fact that the door could not be locked, since it gave an inch or so each time the boys pushed.
"Ginger! it's got something braced against it outside, that's what!" announced another fellow.
"As sure as you're born it has!" echoed Bobolink.
All doubt was dissipated just then, for a series of loud and derisive shouts in boyish treble welled up from outside.
"Shucks!" grunted Bobolink, in sheer disgust; "we've gone and let the Slavin fellers have another crack at us. A nice lot of scouts we look like, not to keep sentries on duty when we have a secret meeting. And now they've got us cooped up here like a lot of old hens! Shucks! I say again!"
"Well, that's no reason we have to stay cooped up, is it?" demanded Jack, as he turned to hunt around for some object which could be used for a battering ram so as to force the barricaded door of the barn.
"T-t-try the b-b-big wagon doors, fellows!" whooped Bluff.
They did, but with no more success than had attended their puny efforts against the smaller exit. Those who had been at work while they talked must have done a good job, for the big doors were utterly immovable.
"Do we have to stay in here until morning?" wailed Andy Flinn, in mock despair.
"Not much, if I have to climb up to the roof, and knock a plank off. Say, those fellows must have been spying out here when I met them this morning," said Bobolink.
"Listen now, what d'ye suppose they're doing?" demanded Nuthin'.
All remained in an attitude of expectancy, and could hear strange sounds that seemed to come from under the boards forming the floor of the barn; which building had not always been used for drying tobacco alone.
"Now what d'ye suppose the sillies are poking poles under there, for?" ejaculated William; "and just when I was going to propose that we pull up a board, and crawl through the hole."
"Whew! what's this mean? Say, fellows, if that don't make me think of a blessed old skunk I don't know the odor when I meet it!" and Wallace drew back as he was about to get down on his hands and knees to investigate the meaning of the odd sounds under the barn flooring.
Others got it quickly, and various cries arose, as the boys began to hold their noses, and look around at each other.
"It'll smother us, fellows, that's what!" gasped William, quite pale by now; for the odor which a skunk leaves in its wake affects some persons powerfully, though others hardly mind it at all.
"I know!" Bluff managed to gasp, with a great effort; "there's a f-f-family of s-s-skunks have their h-h-home under here. I've seen 'em, b-b-but I never b-b-bothered the b-b-beauties. Oh! ain't it j-j-just awful, f-f-fellows?"
It certainly was.
Stirred up by the poles wielded by Ted Slavin and his cronies, who must have discovered the presence of the polecats when visiting the barn that morning, and laid their plans accordingly, the little animals were using the only means of defence against an enemy granted them by Nature.
William actually keeled over, and his brother had to drag him to the further end of the barn so that he might not get the full benefit of the overpowering scent.
"Something's justgotto be done!" cried Jack, himself not feeling any too well under the infliction.
"Here, help me lift this old beam, boys. We can make a battering ram out of it, and burst a board off somehow. Never mind the damages; they can be repaired easy enough. Two more get hold. Now, swing around this way. I think the weakest place is in the rear. Keep back, the rest of you. Here goes!"
Five others had been only too willing to lend a hand when Paul called for volunteers. The beam that had been lying against the further wall was good and heavy; but that made it all the better as an engine for ramming a hole through the boarded side of the barn.
Amid the cheers of the scouts the novel battering ram was carried forward with a will, and on the run. Some of the boys held up lanterns so that those who were in the line of attack could see just where to strike. Even poor overcome William managed to raise his head, and feebly wave a hand of encouragement.
The beam struck with tremendous force, and nothing in the way of a plain ordinary boarding could withstand the impetus with which it was driven forward.
"Whoop!" yelled the scouts, as a big aperture appeared in the side of the barn, and the route to liberty lay before them.
They were not slow to avail themselves of the privilege either, but hastened to scramble through the gap, carrying the lanterns with them. William managed to get up enough steam to crawl outside, where he could breath air that was not fetid, and filled with overpowering odors.
Only Bluff looked back half regretfully at the haven of refuge they had just quitted. For he was wondering how his father could ever manage to efface that scent so that the tobacco, soon to be harvested, might be hung up in that barn without detracting from its marketable value.
And once out of the trap the Boy Scouts began to chase around, with vengeance in their eyes; but as on previous occasions the wary enemy, after accomplishing their mischief, had been wise enough to slink away.
"How far do we have to go in this new plan of forgiving the enemy, Paul?" asked William, who had by now fully recovered from his recent weakness, and was burning with zeal to avenge himself upon their persecutors.
"Yes, this thing has got to have a limit!" declared Jud Elderkin, as he glared around at the moonlit scene, and no doubt imagined their rivals hiding near by, where they could laugh at the disturbed group.
Paul knew boy nature too well to stretch their patience beyond the breaking point. He was astonished that such fire-eaters as Bluff, William, and several more, could restrain themselves even as well as they had.
To keep them in hand the reins must be loosened a little; but only to enable him to get a better hold later on.
"Well, there's no positive rule, fellows; and so far as I can see I believe the limit has already been passed, with us," he said, pleasantly.
"Hurrah! that's the kind of talk!" cried the inflammable Twin.
"Then you give us permission to pitch in, and whale the whole bunch the next time they play one of their measly old tricks on us? Is that so, Paul?" demanded Jud.
"Oh! I only h-h-hope so!" came from Bluff.
"Wait till the time comes, and perhaps I'll help you give them a much-needed lesson. We don't want to play the worm part, always," remarked Paul; "and now, boys, let's head for home."
"Ta-ta, sweet little meeting-house on the edge of the woods; I'll carry fond memories of you as long as this suit of clothes lasts, I guess," said William, waving his hand mockingly backward toward the deserted barn.
"Watch out for some of those Slavin fellows on the road. They may bombard us from the woods with rocks!" warned Joe Clausin.
"Just let 'em try, that's all. We'll chase the stone thrower to a standstill, and then he'll be sorry he wandered away from his happy home this night!" Bobolink declared, ferociously.
So they walked along in detached groups, many eyes were on the alert, and listening ears bent to catch some sign of a lurking foe.
Once or twice they heard signals being exchanged deep in the woods, evidently by the scattered cohorts of Ted; but while valiant, the members of the Fox Patrols were wise and prudent as well, copying the cautious attributes of the wary animal after which their new organization had been named.
They declined to explore the dense forest, seeking a foe that might only be bent on luring them along, until ready to pounce on them in a body, to make them prisoners of war.
And so finally the march came to an end, with all hands satisfied that the last meeting of the little host of new scouts had been attended by several of the most exciting circumstances that ever befell the boys of Stanhope.
Paul and his chum walked on together, until reaching the first home they said good night. But neither again brought up that subject which had been worrying Jack Stormways for so long a time.
If Paul had conceived any sort of an idea in connection with the strange disappearance of the old coins, he kept it to himself.
Once, however, on the way home after leaving Jack, he stopped to clap his hand down vigorously on his knee, and whispered to himself:
"Now, I wonder if that could possibly be so?"
But no matter what idea had struck him, further words didn't come to tell whether his thoughts were connected with Jack's personal trouble; or on the other hand if the annoying enmity of Ted Slavin, Ward Kenwood, and their would-be scout troop, was still on his mind.
Nevertheless, as Paul passed up to the front door of his home, and stopped a minute to look up at the bright moon sailing across the eastern heavens, he considered that he had good reason to feel more than satisfied with the magnificent results already attending the new methods of the Boy Scouts.
On the following day he sent off the letter containing a check which his father gave him in place of the money, so that it might not be lost.
Then followed a period of anxious waiting, during which many of the members of the Stanhope Troop No. 1 felt touches of envy at sight of their rivals parading the streets, decked out in the full regalia of Scouts, and carrying themselves with the proudest of airs.
They knew that Ted and Ward were busily engaged in drilling their followers in many of the devices prominently mentioned in the manual book. For that matter, though, it did not require regulation suits of khaki to excel in those same things; and so the Foxes also studied and experimented, and burned candles at night in the endeavor to learn all that was possible of those various accomplishments.
There was a great difference in the boys of the town.
Few who were of the proper age but who belonged to one or the other of the troops; and people were beginning to notice how much more manly they carried themselves, and how anxious they seemed now to get credit marks at home.
Parents upon meeting never failed to talk about this wonderful change, and express hopes that it would last.
"The best thing that ever happened, barring none, I think," was what the old minister declared, at a meeting of the Women's Club; "and it deserves to be encouraged. Why, you ladies should take advantage of this wave of reform, to get these lads interested in keeping the streets of the town clean. Give me fifty willing workers among the boys, and I warrant you there will never be a stray piece of paper blowing around. They'll provide receptacles for trash, and see that everybody uses them."
And so it went around, and everybody seemed delighted at the innovation. Only a few skeptical old fogies shook their heads, and declared that it was too good to last, and that they about expected to see the boys of Stanhope transplanted to the heavens in a body presently, since their wings must be sprouting.
About this time it came to the ears of Paul that the banner which the peace-loving Quaker, Mr. Westervelt, had offered for the most proficient troop of scouts along the Bushkill, had been placed on exhibition in the window of a jewelry store over in the manufacturing town of Manchester.
He and Jack wheeled over that very day to inspect the coveted trophy. When they saw what a beauty it was, their hearts thrilled with new aspirations.
"Worth fighting hard for, eh, Paul?" observed Jack.
"I should say, yes," replied the other, delight written in big letters on his face, pressed so close to the glass; "and I reckon it would do our fellows lots of good just to run down here to look at that dandy banner. I must tell them all about it, and have them see it for themselves."
"A bully good idea. You know how to get a fellow to put his best licks into any job he undertakes," declared his chum, admiringly.
"Humbug!" scornfully replied Paul; "why, it's as easy as falling off a log. Don't you feel more like straining every nerve in the effort to win that prize, after seeing how handsome it is? Well, I just try to believe every fellow is more or less like I am. That's the whole secret. Yes, Stanhope must work hard to catch up with the other fellows."
There were several boys standing around, also gaping at the fine snowy banner, upon which as the card under it, went on to state, was to be embroidered with colored silk the totem of the leading patrol of the successful troop.
These fellows could not help knowing who the strangers in town were; and it was also easy for them to guess what had brought Paul and Jack down there. More than a few times had they seen these Stanhope boys competing on the athletic field, either in baseball, or football. And of course it was always good form for Manchester lads to "josh" any would-be rivals.
"Yes," said one of the natives, with a grin, "up in that corner is where the eagle is going to be painted. And every time we go on a hike we'll carry that banner at the head of the procession."
"They say," remarked another, with pretended innocence, "that poor old Stanhope is getting up a troop, and even hopes to have a try for this beauty. Now, what do you think about the nerve of that, fellows?"
"Oh! well, the more the merrier," came from a third, whom Paul knew to be the scout leader of the "Eagles" in person, "and after all, we don't mind showing these tenderfeet scouts how to do stunts. None of us want to be hogs, boys. There's room enough for all, even if some do have to eat the husks."
Paul had to laugh out loud at this.
"Say, you're on to us, all right, Manchester," he said, turning around. "Yes, we've come down here just to take a peep at this great prize. Of course we'd like mighty well to say we meant to win it; but we're too modest for that. The most we admit is that we mean to make a try for it. Of course we haven't got much show against two such veteran troops as Manchester and Aldine; but we want to get all the fun out of the game we can. And you won't begrudge us that, Claypool?"
"Sure we won't, Morrison," returned the other, frankly, thrusting out his hand; "as I said before, the more in it the better. It will make our victory look bigger."
"Glad to see you're so dead sure of winning out," laughed Paul; "whenever the Stanhope boys go into anything they always work harder if they have big odds against them. But all the same that's a bully good banner, and no matter whether it has an eagle, the head of a beaver, or that of a fox worked on it in colored silk, it's going to be something we'll all be proud of as Boy Scouts."
"That's well put, Morrison; though you might just as well get it out of your head now as later that the Manchester fellows will ever let any crowd come in here and take that dandy flag away. Why, our fellows know ten times as much about scout tactics as your greenhorns do now."
Claypole did not mean to be overbearing; when he said this he really believed it to be an actual fact.
"That's very true," said Paul, quietly, as he and his chum prepared to mount their wheels for the return journey; "but Thanksgiving is still more than two months off; and Claypole, I give you my word, we've got some of the smartest tenderfeet in the Stanhope troop you ever heard of. Ta-ta, boys!"
Of course, when Paul and Jack told what they had seen, every fellow wanted to make the run over to Manchester to look for himself. And, just as Paul had expected, they came back home more than ever enthused with the hope and prospect of winning that royal banner for the Stanhope troop.
At the next meeting the talk was all about the prize, and a vote was even taken to ascertain to whom the honor of being the banner bearer might fall, in case the victory was awarded to Stanhope. Wallace Carberry turned out to be the lucky standard bearer.
All of which was just what clever Paul wanted. He had infused a new stimulant into the veins of his comrades. And at their next outdoor rally, when various contests were undertaken to discover who showed the most skill, he found that the very atmosphere seemed to be surcharged with electricity; for the boys labored to excel as they had never done before; but it was because each one believed that upon his shoulders alone devolved the duty of bringing that beautiful prize to Stanhope.
Four days later the expected suits arrived, much sooner than even the most sanguine had anticipated.
Then therewasa time.
The usually quiet and peaceful streets of the town were fairly filled with khaki-clad warriors, strutting up and down, exchanging military salutes, and arousing the admiration of all the girls, who came forth to gaze and applaud.
It was a great day for Stanhope. A stranger visiting there for the first time might think some military academy must have taken up fall quarters near by, and granted full liberty to its uniformed hosts.
If there were those who had been hesitating about joining either of the troops, a decision must certainly follow the first glimpse of those gallant uniforms.
That night many a lad ate supper as an honored guest at his father's table; for surely the wearer of a uniform must be entitled to unusual privileges.
Of course the word had gone around for a meeting of the Stanhope No. 1. But it was not to be held at the Shipley barn—oh! no, those boys had had "quite a sufficiency," as Bobolink said, of their former quarters; and Bluff admitted that his father would not dare use the building again that year for his tobacco crop.
Jason Carberry, father of the twins, had asked as a favor that they make use of his big smithy; and since the night air was cool, Paul had accepted this generous proposition of the blacksmith on the spot.
So that was where they came together, a uniformed organization, at last.
"Man the bellows, somebody."
"Yes, stir up the fire in that forge, William. It's the coldest September night on record, and that's a fact!" exclaimed Bobolink, as he pushed the lively member of the Carberry team toward the smouldering fire left by the blacksmith when he gave over his capacious smithy to the Boy Scouts for their meeting.
"M-m-my dad s-s-says he once lost his t-t-t-tobacco c-crop in S-s-september!" observed Bluff, shaking his head as he pushed toward the fire.
The boys had had a fine meeting.
Besides the twenty-two in their new uniforms, four new recruits had been present, to drink in with eager ears all that passed, and sigh for the day to come when they too might shine forth in such resplendant suits.
Already was there much rivalry shown in the many competitions which the young scout leaders had instituted. There was a class on aviation, another that had taken up the mysteries of camping with all its fascinating details; a third chose photography as the most entrancing subject, and exhibited many pictures that were to be entered in the great contest of the county for the banner.
Then several boys had doubled, for surely the knowledge of cookery went hand in hand with that of camping; while a good stalker could at the same time enter for a merit badge in the path-finding line.
Besides, though the season was late for swimming, several fellows who knew just what their best accomplishment might be, had qualified to enter this class.
On the whole the meeting had been a most interesting one. Every scout was burning with enthusiasm, and many were the resolutions that Stanhope must have what Bobolink called a "show-in," with regard to that coveted banner, which was to fall to the leading patrol of the county.
They were now almost ready to "break camp" for the evening, and before doing so indulged in a little general talk. Many had ideas which they wished to advance, in order to discover what the attitude of their comrades might be.
"Mr. Chairman," said Wallace Carberry, when he found a little lull in the buzz of conversation, "I have a proposition I'd like to put before the meeting before we disband."
"Hear! hear!" shouted several of the boys, notably those who had been seen in close confab with Wallace, and hence probably in touch with his scheme.
"All right, Number Seven; let's hear what it is," replied Paul, readily.
Every member of each patrol had a number. These began with the scout leader, who of course had to take the "initial sack," as Bobolink, still baseball wild, put it. Jack, as his assistant in control, came as Number Two; Bobolink next; Bluff captured Four as his distinguishing feature; Nuthin' being Five, and the twins the next pair, for it would never do to separate William and Wallace, while Tom Betts was Eighth and last.
"If the gentlemen present will give me the floor, with the privilege of three minutes in which to explain what I have in mind, I will be glad to comply."
Wallace was very precise in his way of putting things. This did not happen only when in school, or as he stood up to address a meeting of his chums. He could not unbend his dignity even under the most trivial conditions.
William was just the reverse; and so full of frolic and fun that the boys always declared the pair to be unequally matched, since in disposition they were exact opposites.
And yet under it all there was the same abiding affection that generally may be found between twins.
"Hear! hear!" shouted the boys once more.
"Let's have it, Wallace, old sport. It's bound to be a jim-dandy idea!" declared a loud voice that seemed to spring from the ceiling; but no one was deceived, for they knew only too well how Bobolink could throw his voice pretty much where he pleased.
"Silence!"
When Paul, who in the absence of a regular scout master, occupied the chair, uttered this one word every sound ceased; and after that there was no excuse for Wallace to hesitate longer.
"Some of us have been talking it over, Mr. Chairman, and we would respectfully request that you name an early date when we can go out into the woods for several tests of skill. There is much keen rivalry among a number of us already, which can only be settled by an open trial. First of all there is the interesting water-boiling test of woodmanship. We want to know who is the leading light in that class so we may push him forward to enter the general competition with other Boy Scout troops. Am I understood, Mr. Chairman?"
"I think you have made your meaning plain, and the one particular competition you mention happens to be the most interesting of all," replied Paul.
"Then may we hope that you will name an early day for the trial to come off? Unfortunately school begins shortly now, and outside of Saturdays and holidays the several Fox patrols may not have much chance to practice before the grand trial comes off. Make it as early as possible, Mr. Chairman."
"How would to-morrow do?" asked Paul, only too anxious himself to ascertain how the boys would "toe the mark."
Wallace looked at his backers, and there were vigorous nods in answer to the question seen upon his face.
"It seems to be the unanimous consensus of opinion, Mr. Chairman, that to-morrow would suit first rate. Please give us the hour for assembling, and you can depend on our being on deck," Wallace remarked.
"Two o'clock ought to answer. That will give us plenty of time to try out a lot of stunts I shall arrange for."
"Where shall we meet?" asked Jud Elderkin.
"H-h-how about our b-b-barn, fellows?" queried Bluff, grinning.
There was an instantaneous howl of derision, and every right hand went up so that the thumb and forefinger might compress a nose.
"Another year might do, Bluff!" called one.
"What isn't fit for storing tobacco can't be a proper meeting place for respectable Boy Scouts!" declared another, energetically.
"Oh! he's only bluffing, fellows; don't mind him!"
"In fancy I can smell it now," sang another, mockingly.
"We'll meet just outside this very blacksmith shop, and at two sharp," declared the chairman, decisively; "and any scout who is tardy will be given one or more bad marks that he must carry as a load in the competition. Punctuality is a leading trait in Stanhope Troop No. 1, you understand. Any other proposition?"
The boys began to talk among themselves, and for a short time there was a constant buzz that sounded like a big hive of bees.
Jack found himself in contact with Paul while this was going on. He had been doing his duty to the best of his ability as he understood it; and while the meeting was in progress had proven conclusively that he had a thorough knowledge of the many things a full fledged scout must know.
Jack meant to graduate from the tenderfoot class in the shortest possible space of time. Any scout may do this by being diligent in the pursuit of various lines of woodcraft.
"Well," said Jack, as he pushed alongside his chum, "this has been a dandy meeting, all right. And there are four new fellows knocking at the door; with perhaps more to follow, when Stanhope learns what great times we have."
"Yes, and I guess we'll need new recruits right along. You know that some of the boys will fall by the wayside soon after the novelty has worn off," remarked wise Paul, who delighted in studying human nature as he saw it around him.
"Listen! fellows! The fire alarm!" shouted Joe Clausin, just at that instant.
Every voice was hushed.
Clear upon the night air rang out the sound of a tocsin—the stroke of a hammer upon a steel rim from a locomotive wheel, and which was hung aloft in the only firehouse in Stanhope.
It was a thrilling sound at any time, and especially to a company of boys newly enlisted in the great cause of humanity—of lending a hand to neighbors who might be in trouble. So after several more clear, resounding strokes had pealed forth, calling the volunteer department out to fight the fire demon, one scout started wildly for the double doors of the smithy.
He was immediately followed by others, and in almost the twinkling of an eye the Carberry blacksmith shop was emptied of its late noisy crowd.
"Wow! look at that, will you?"
"It's a barn most likely!"
"Don't you believe it. I can see the roof of the house! Say, I believe it must be that old Bradley place! Come along, fellows!"
"There are the firemen on the run! They'll have old Rescue No. 1 on the jump in a jiffy. Hey, fellers, let's get busy, and pull the hose cart for 'em!"
"Bully idea. Lead the way, Paul! It's up to you to show us how!"
With these and many more cries the Boy Scouts bore down on the building that sheltered the lone fire department of the town. This consisted of a cast-off engine in good repair which had been purchased from some big city, where they were installing an auto in place of horse power for propelling their machines; and a hose reel, the latter to be drawn by a line of men.
Of course the assembling firemen were only too glad of the offered aid. To have a score of husky boys appear so readily on the scene, ready for business, was in the line of a "snap."
Accordingly, while some of the men got the horses hitched to the engine, and others started the fire going, the hose cart was rushed out, and its long rope eagerly seized by the waiting boys.
Paul was at the end of the line, for a scout leader must live up to his reputation as a general, no matter what the emergency.
"Pull!" went forth the cry, and immediately the hose reel started off in the direction where a flash of fiery red announced that the excitement was centred.
Nothing could please such an energetic lot of lads more than a chance to make themselves useful in this way. They pulled with a will, and passed along the road leading out of the town, on a wild run.
The one who had declared that it was the old Bradley house that was on fire must have had the situation well in mind. Perhaps he lived in that neighborhood, and was better able to judge than the balance of the boys. At any rate all of them had by now made sure of the fact.
Paul remembered that a family, in which were quite a number of children, had lately come to town, and taken the big ramshackle building.
The thought gave him a thrill, and inwardly he found himself hoping that none of them might be caught in that fire-trap.
"There comes the old machine!" shouted the fellow who, not being able to get a grip on the rope by which the hose wagon was drawn, trotted in the rear, and made out to push.
Yes, they could hear the shouts of the excited fire laddies now, and also catch the sound of galloping horses.
Looking over his shoulder, Paul saw a medley of moving lights, evidently the lanterns carried by the volunteers. These were doubtless clad in their old toggery and fire hats, the foreman with his silver trumpet in evidence, without which no respectable fire would think of allowing itself to be quenched.
And a rising column of sparks attested to the fact that the fire in the engine was in full blast, so that steam would be ready by the time the scene of operations was reached.
"One side, boys, and let them pass! Give them plenty of room!" called Paul.
He had seen that old engine booming along to a fire on many an occasion, and remembered that the driver, Hank Seeris, was inclined to be a reckless hand; for as a rule the machine was wobbling from side to side, and threatening to overturn at any minute.
Up to this date that catastrophe had never happened; but Paul remembered the old saying that "a pitcher may go to the well once too often;" and he had fears.
It proved that they were well grounded too, after the hose reed had safely negotiated the last bend in the road, and the burning dwelling was in plain sight.
"Look at them coming, full tilt! They will be over at the turn!" shrieked Bobolink, who, being near the tail end of the double line could observe what was taking place without hindrance.
Immediately there arose a chorus of loud shouts, as of warning. But apparently Hank Seeris must have been indulging in more liquor than was good for him; or else he happened to be in an unusually reckless state.
"They're going over!" howled Bobolink.
"Smash!"
"Oh! there goes our only engine to the scrap heap!" exclaimed Jud Elderkin, in dismay; for his father happened to be the foreman, and it looked just then as though the gallant fireman might be without a job.
Paul ran back, as did most of the boys, thinking that something terrible must have happened.
The plunging horses had been pulled down, and a man was already sitting on the head of each to keep them from kicking further. There are generally some wise persons present in such a calamity, who know just what ought to be done.
Willing hands were already unhitching the horses, so that they could be taken out of the way, and the ditched engine upraised.
"Where's Hank, the driver! Is he hurt?" asked some one; and Paul recognized the old minister, who must have been on the way home from visiting when the alarm burst out, and hence he had accompanied the fire fighters, eager to lend a hand at the rescue work.
"Here he is, and just comin' to, after being knocked senseless. Hank ain't hurted, I reckon," answered a citizen who had run with the machine.
"How about the engine—is she much damaged?" asked the foreman, as men set about raising the heavy Rescue No. 1.
"Out of business for this trip, Elderkin. She'll never work again till she's gone down to the city for repairs," came the answer.
A groan of dismay went up.
"That settles the fate of the old Bradley house, then," declared many, as they saw the flames and smoke apparently increasing.
Everybody was now anxious to get on the scene, and the engine was left in charge of a watcher, while the crowd rushed along, exchanging views of the accident, and the chances of saving the building by means of a bucket brigade.
The foreman proved himself to be the right man in the right place. He instantly organized a double line of men and boys, leading from the creek near by, up to the house that was burning.
Every imaginable species of bucket and tin pail was pressed into use. Men and boys invaded the kitchen and captured all sorts of utensils, from milkpans to butter firkins.
These were put into use, and passed along as rapidly as those at the creek end could plunge them in, and fill them with water.
At the other terminus the foreman and his assistants took the water pails, and dashed the contents here and there as opportunity arose.
The Boy Scouts were nearly all somewhere in the line, and working valorously. For the time being they utterly forgot they were dressed in their new suits of khaki, and that the pails slopped over continuously, soon soaking them to the skin.
Cheered on by the appeals of their leader they never flinched. It was the first chance Paul had of seeing how his enlisted followers could forget self, and rise grandly to an occasion.
When any one showed signs of tiring he was quickly crowded out of the line by another eager willing worker. Indeed, there seemed to be three applicants for each job; and had there been more buckets several lines might have been formed to make use of that accommodating creek.
Jack, after a little, found himself pushed aside by another scout, who wanted to exercise his muscles, and could wait no longer.
Seeing a group around some children, and hearing sudden cries from a woman, Jack hurried across the lawn. Somehow he seemed to fear that new trouble had broken out; and when he saw a half-clad figure wringing her hands, and shrieking, he realized that his suspicions were going to prove true.
"What is it?" he asked, of another scout, coming away from the group.
"Her baby. She says it is in the house!" replied the boy, whose face was white with the horror of it all.
"What?" cried Jack; "did she forget her own baby, then?"
"She thought her husband had it. He's a sick man too. See, that's him they are holding back there. He wants to go in for the baby, and they won't let him. Oh! Jack, I'd like to do it, but I'm afraid of fire. I just dassent!" sobbed the boy.
Jack waited to hear no more. His blood seemed to be on fire, and his teeth came together with a click.
Another moment and he was in the group, eagerly plying the almost distracted mother with questions as to which room her baby had been in. Fortunately Jack had once known a boy living in the old Bradley mansion; so that the interior of the house was not strange to him.
"Our bedroom—it is the corner one where the tower stands. The one that has the alcove!" the lady managed to cry, as she caught his arm, and looked, oh, so pleadingly, in his boyish, determined face.
After that Jack would have risked anything in the attempt to save that innocent little one. He rushed off without saying a word. Several put out a hand to stop him, under the belief that it was useless, since that portion of the building seemed to be a mass of flames by now. But Jack dodged them just as he did when running with the ball on the football field.
When he dashed into the house, disappearing in the volume of smoke that poured from the open doorway, a groan went up from the great crowd; for they doubted as to whether he would ever be seen alive again.
"He's gone!"
"Who was that boy?" called the foreman of the fire company, as he came running up, waving his speaking trumpet.
"Jack Stormways, the lumber man's boy!" some one answered.
"Well, he's a good one, all right; but I'm sorry for his mother!" said the experienced fire-fighter, as he looked anxiously at the flames pouring out from several windows directly under the room next the tower.
Paul had dropped out of the line. He could not pass another bucket after seeing the chum he loved so well plunge into the doomed building. From right and left he heard many things spoken, and presently understood what it was induced Jack to attempt what seemed so like a foolhardy thing.
So it would have been, had the object of Jack's attempt been the securing of valuables, no matter what the amount. But a human life counts for more than earthly riches; and a brave soul never stops to consider the risk when a fellow being is in peril of a terrible fate.
Jack found himself in the midst of dense smoke as soon as he plunged across the doorsill. He had foreseen this, and with a wisdom beyond his years made simple preparations to combat the evil.
On the way to the door he passed close by one who carried a bucket of water, and some happy inspiration caused him to snatch out his handkerchief and dip it into the cool liquid, not wringing it out to any extent.
This he clapped over his nose, so that in breathing the wet cloth would keep much of the suffocating vapor from being drawn into his lungs.
His eyes began to smart furiously. By the time he was half way up the stairs he could not see a thing around him save murky clouds of smoke, lighted by the tongues of flame that darted like serpents out of many places.
He staggered up still further, and fell on the landing. But gaining his feet again he pushed on, still heading in the right direction. Only for the knowledge he possessed regarding the interior of the building, Jack would have lost his bearings then and there. The result must have been serious indeed.
Along the hall he went. It seemed to grow hotter the further he pushed; but even that did not daunt him. Once enlisted in a good cause he must go on, no matter what faced him. Had not Paul said words to that effect, after telling them what it meant to be a tried and true scout?
And here the opportunity had come to him not half an hour after the thrilling words were spoken!
Those outside while still sending the buckets of water along, in the effort to save one portion of the large house, were waiting to see what came of Jack's attempt at rescue.
"He's lost!" declared one, as the fire broke out in a new place; "see, that's the tower burning now, and she said the baby was in the room next there."
"Poor old Jack! to think it should be him to go!" groaned Bobolink; "see, Paul, there's his father passing the buckets along. He don't even know his boy is in the old shack! Oh! my, whatever did he take chances like that for?"
"Because he couldn't stand and see that poor mother shrieking for her baby. Because he's got the strongest heart of us all! That's why!" declared Paul, his voice vibrating with love for the chum he might never see alive again.
And Bobolink said to himself:
"By the jumpin' Jehosaphat, I believe Paul would have gone if Jack hadn't. He's lookin' at that house now like he wanted to run right in and tear it to flinders."
"There he is at the window!" whooped a man's heavy voice.
Instantly every eye ranged along the front of the building, wherever the columns of smoke permitted. And many a finger was pointed at the one where a waving hat served to draw attention.
"He's shouting something. Keep still, everybody!"
A dead silence immediately ensued. Only the roaring and crackling of the hungry flames could be heard, as every ear was strained to catch what it was the imperiled boy was saying.
"He's got the baby—look! he's holding her up!"
A shriek came from the agonized mother, and she fell on her knees with clasped hands.
"Listen to what he says!"
"Go to back of house—get ladder to window there!" called Jack huskily, at the top of his voice.
"Hurrah! we understand, old fellow! We'll have you out of that yet!" whooped Bobolink, starting on the run around the end of the mansion.
"A ladder—bring it around, boys! Let's save the brave youngster!" howled the tall foreman.
The ladder happened to be up against the building at a point where the flames had now burst forth, driving the fire-fighters back. Himself, the foreman led in a bold forward rush to capture the required ladder; nor was he to be denied, scorning the efforts of the licking tongues of fire to daunt him.
Then, with a swarm of followers, he pushed around the corner. Here, to be sure, there did seem to be less of smoke and blaze, owing to the direction of the night wind.
Now they were placing the ladder. It reached up to a window, and if only Jack would show himself all might be well. Seconds were like an eternity to those who crowded below, every face upturned, and every eye ranging along the side of the house.
The fire was pushing in this direction too, for it suddenly burst out of a broken window. From many pairs of lips there burst a groan. Well did they know that every second counted against the boy, who was doubtless groping his way along halls and through rooms filled with that overpowering smoke.
"There he is!"
It was like a sudden electric shock, that cry. The clarion notes of a bugle would not have thrilled that vast crowd one half so surely as did the appearance of a head at a window on the left.
Jack had been shrewd enough to pick out a room that was further away from the devouring flames. A hoarse shout went up at sight of him.
"He's got the baby too!" was the tenor of that victorious cry; and it was as though every man and boy and other person present felt a personal interest in the success of Jack's daring venture.
The precious baby was saved; yes, he was hugging the bundle to his breast; and during a lull in the clamor they plainly heard the lusty cries that proceeded from that shawl-wrapped package. Those were doubtless the most blessed sounds that ever reached the strained ears of the praying mother.
Quickly was the ladder lifted and rushed along the wall of the house until it stood beneath the window where Jack had shown himself.
The foreman himself mounted as soon as it was in position. But Jack refused to hand over his burden, nor could Mr. Elderkin insist. It was only right that the one who had saved the little darling should have the pleasure of placing her in the arms of the frantic mother.
But he could and did guide Jack's feet as they sought the rounds of the friendly ladder, so that presently the boy, with singed hair, and begrimed with smoke, was lifted to the ground.
Hardly had Jack landed than a pair of arms encircled both him and the baby; for in that happy moment the mother realized what she owed this brave lad; and her heart was brimming over with gratitude.
Such shouts as went up then! Those still coming to the scene must have thought the wearers of the fire hats had succeeded in running a line of hose into a position where victory was assured.
Again the bucket brigade got busy, working with renewed zeal, though but little hope of saving any portion of the big building now remained. But every one was roused up to fever pitch by the excitement of the hour. And Jack's valiant work had helped inspire them to renewed deeds of endeavor.
Paul led his chum away, for Jack was almost exhausted. Then came Mr. Stormways on the run, having just learned what his boy had done. He seized Jack in his arms, and shed tears over him; though at the same time his heart must have swelled within him with satisfaction that one of his brood had acquitted himself so well in a crisis that called for a cool head and nerves of steel.
The flames kept on eating into the old building. It was now doomed, and the fire laddies confined their efforts to saving any furniture that could be carried out.
Paul called his scouts around him, at the request of the old minister. They were rather a sorry looking group, though just as full of a desire to assist as ever. The fine new uniforms were bedraggled with mud and water. Several had holes burned in their coats, and that of Jack was a sight to behold.
But who cared? After all, the uniforms were but an insignia of their connection with a great organization. New or old they stood for a principle; and gallantly had Stanhope Troop No. 1 responded when the need arose.
The old and highly respected minister, whose heart was filled with a great love for the rising generation, shook hands with each and every scout, declaring that he was proud of the privilege.
"Don't mind the soiling of your new uniforms, lads. Every mark found upon them to-morrow must serve as a badge of honor to the wearer. After this it will be the tried and true scout who can point to a burnt hole in his smart coat, and say 'I got that the night of the great fire up at Bradley's!' And what shall I say of this fine member of your patrol who so bravely risked his own life to save that of a mother's baby? Only that his own mother has reason to thank God to-night because of such a son. We all love him!" and a tear fell on Jack's hand as the old man squeezed it.
"All here, Paul!"
Jack saluted as he said this, and smiled to see the look the scout leader gave his scorched and discolored uniform.
Although Jack had spent an hour and more that morning trying to clean up his suit and leggins, they showed many signs of the hard service to which they had been put on the previous night.
Several of the fellows carried cameras. They had signed for the photographic test, and hoped to get some fine views of the troop in action. These would possibly be entered for competition when the other commands in the county lined up to strive for leadership in the last great event—the winning of the banner.
Presently the town clock struck the hour.
"Fall in!"
Two by two they marched out of town. People came to the doors to watch them; and many a girl waved her handkerchief vigorously. But there was no response. Much as some of the lads might have liked to raise a hat, and send back an answering salute, they had already learned how to keep their eyes to the front, on penalty of being given bad marks that might tell against them later on.
More than one parent looked to see how the boy nearest their hearts bore himself. Proudly they watched the long double line swinging down the street, keeping excellent step, considering how little time they had had for drill.
Other boys there were who stood on the corners and mocked. Of course these were the followers of Ted Slavin, envious of the popularity already attained by Paul's patrol. Some of them had been at the fire, and witnessed the deed of daring carried out by Jack Stormways. Jealous of the other troop they tried to taunt them by various cries; but without success.
However, most of them did not venture to tag after the marching corps. They knew that even the wonderful patience of these fellows would have its limit, and that a sudden turn might be made upon the tormentors that could hardly prove pleasant for the minority.
Out of the town limits they went, still keeping step. Ted and Ward trailed behind, but there was no more taunting done.
"They mean to follow, and see what we are up to," said Jack, when he came alongside the leader again.
"Well, we can't stop them from doing that, I suppose. The woods are free to all. Let them look. If they can pick up a few pointers, well and good. When we lead, you know we can afford to laugh at those who follow," returned the other.
"Sure, because they'll never catch up with us in a year," laughed Jack.
For a full mile they continued, never once breaking ranks.
"We're nearly there, fellows. You're doing fine, I tell you. Keep it up through to the end. Why, you march like veterans already!"
In this fashion did the scout leader warm every heart, and cause those who were beginning to tire of the jaunt to grit their teeth, and resolve that nothing must be allowed to interfere with the completion of the march.
"Left wheel!" came the command, as the van drew abreast of an opening where a wagon road entered the woods.
Still those two curious ones trailed in the rear, determined to ascertain what it was that took the Fox Patrols out of town this day.
Presently, surrounded by the giant trees, still green with their summer foliage, Paul gave the command to halt and break ranks.
Immediately the twenty-six lads began fraternizing. Those owning cameras started to look around for openings where some promising view offered. But most of the scouts clustered around the leader, eager to hear what the programme of the day would embrace.
"First comes the fire test. There are a dozen fellows who have come prepared to qualify for that. And I think we shall have an interesting competition. Here, all who have hatchets get busy, and cut wood."
Paul himself led the way, for he delighted in using the little camp axe which he often "toted" into the woods, when hunting or camping.
The sound of chopping soon resounded through the timber, and by degrees quite a pile of wood had been accumulated. But all this was simply to loosen up the muscles of the competitors; for they were not to be allowed to use any of this fuel, which was for the main campfire.
Once this had been started, Paul distributed a dozen tin kettles that had been brought along. These were all of the same size. Moreover, they had a plain mark two-thirds of the way up, which was to limit the amount of cold water from the near-brook which they must contain.
"Here are five matches for each one of you. Every fellow is placed on his honor not to have a single other one in his possession. You are not to use any kind of paper in kindling your fires. Just imagine that you are adrift in the wilderness, where a newspaper is never seen. And in the end when a kettle begins to boil the owner of it must shout and raise his hand. I will have inspectors appointed whose duty it will be to see that all is fairly done."
"Don't we get more than these five matches?" asked one of the contestants.
"That is all. And remember, that if two are tied when the quart of water boils, the fellow who can show the mostunusedmatches comes in ahead. That is a valuable point, for it proves that he knows how to conserve his resources. A match is sometimes of priceless value to a man lost in the big timber."
"Tell us again what we must do, Paul."
"Form a line right here. When I say 'go,' every fellow dart off to some place he has in mind. With your hatchets you are to chop wood, and get a fire started as quick as you can. Then place your kettle on it, and keep on adding fuel until the water boils. I will time every contestant myself, and keep a record. But this is just a preliminary trial. We'll have another later on. Ready, all?"
The twelve contestants lined up, while the others watched operations. Even the two outsiders had kept getting closer, so as to understand all that was done. And as Ward had his gold watch in his hand it was evident that he intended to do a little timing himself.
"He wants to see how our best compares with what some of his fellows will do," remarked Jack, to Paul.
"All right. He's welcome. The more the merrier. If they have any fellow who is more at home in the woods than Wallace Carberry for instance, I'd just like to know it," returned the other, promptly.
"How about you, Paul? I guess Wallace would stand a mighty poor show if he ran a race with the head scout," returned the second in command.
"That's something we've never settled yet. Wallace and I must have a chance at each other some day; but not yet. Now watch them scurry around. Every fellow has his mind made up where he can cut wood easiest. I've made them bring in all loose stuff, you see, so that they start on an even thing. Here goes!"
Paul raised his hand, and exclaimed:
"Go!"
Immediately the dozen lads darted frantically off. Several came near having a collision right in the start, which would have been fatal to their chances for winning out; since the water in their kettles must have been spilled; and according to the rules of the contest they could not refill the same without journeying to the creek, which Paul had made sure was fully fifty yards distant.
It was a laughable, as well as interesting sight.
Having reached the various places mentally selected as the scene of their intended operations in fire building, the boys set down their kettles, and commenced to feverishly whack away at dead branches, or other wood.
In several instances two of them happened to pick out the same place, and naturally there was considerable rivalry between them, as well as an exchange of remarks intended to irritate and delay.
"Look at Wallace, will you!" observed Jack, presently; "nearly all the others have smoke going, but he's chipping away as steadily as you please. Why, he seems in no hurry at all. I guess he doesn't want to come in ahead!"
"Wait, my boy," laughed Paul. "You don't know that sly fox. He's up to all the dodges at fire making, and believes in a good start. Some of those smokes never will amount to much, for they just struggle along, and threaten to go out because it takes all the puffing the fellows can give to keep them alive. Now he's going to strike up. Only one match needed with Wallace, you see."
"And how his blaze jumps! You were right; he made sure he had enough fine kindling first, before starting in. Now he's adding larger stuff; and what's this he's doing with those stones?"
"What do you suppose?" said the scout leader, nodding his head approvingly. "Making a little fireplace where he can perch his kettle, and have the hottest part of his fire under it. Note also that the opening is in the direction of the breeze. That allows the flame to be fanned. Wallace will never have to blow out his cheeks and puff to keep his blaze going."
By this time some of the contestants were bobbing their heads to ascertain just how Wallace had done it; and made haste to follow suit. All were willing to take pattern from a past master who knew the wrinkles of the game.
One upset his kettle, and despairing of having any show, withdrew from the race.
Eleven fires kept on burning, some of them under protest, apparently, for they did not give much promise of landing their unlucky builders as victors.
"How long is it?" asked Jack, presently, as certain signs caught his eye that told him the end was near.
"Just nine minutes; but—"
"Look at Wallace," cried Jack; "he's raising his hat. There goes an inspector to see. He nods his head. The water must be boiling; and who would have thought it? Hurrah for the Carberry Twin! Look at Ted and Ward! They act as if they thought there was some trickery, for they're running up to see. I guess they've tried this game, and come in under the wire in about fifteen minutes. Hello! there's Bluff calling out. Good boy! He's going to run Wallace a race next time. But I'd like to see you make the test, Paul?"