Bobwas quite as eager as his companion to hurry forward and see what that cry of a girl's voice might mean. Whoever heard of a Southern boy unwilling to act in similar circumstances?
The two of them had noted the quarter from whence the shrill scream came, and were making a bee line for it as fast as the rough nature of the ground permitted.
"Keep back, thar, you ugly critter! Don't you dar jump at me! Oh! if I could on'y git free, I'd show you!" they heard just beyond the fringe of bushes.
Bursting through these, and the scene lay before them. It was a girl, a real mountain girl too, who had called out. She was half bent over, as though trying all her might to wrench her foot free, for it seemed to be caught in a crevice of the rock, as in a vise.
Not ten feet away from her crouched an ugly wildcat. Its ears were bent backward toward its body; the yellow eyes seemed to glow with an ugly fire; and there could be no doubt but that the animal was getting ready to jump at the girl, possibly angered by the red sunbonnet she wore.
She had managed to pick up a stone, with which she was ready to do battle in case the cat really attacked her. Thad saw this, and admired her grit, even though he believed that she would have suffered dreadfully, had the fight ever come off.
Bob gave a cry of rage as he saw what it all meant. He too snatched up a stone, and made directly for the wildcat, as though such a thing as fear did not enter into his calculations. And Thad,a little wiser, seeing an excellent club handy, made out to get that in his grip ere following his chum.
Despite the coming of these two new enemies the wildcat showed no sign of beating a retreat. There may have been some reason for this unexpected bravery on the animal's part. Usually it is only when darkness comes that bobcats are dangerous; and in the daytime they will generally retreat before the coming of human foes.
There may have been kittens somewhere close by; and a mother cat will attack anything that moves in defense of her offspring.
But just then Thad was not bothering himself with trying to understand why the fierce beast acted in that altogether remarkable way. What they wanted to do was to influence the animal to leave the neighborhood, and the quicker this were done the better they would be pleased.
"Go slow, Bob!" Thad called out, fearful lest his impulsive comrade dash up so close that in another instant the cat would be upon him, clawing, biting, and doing all manner of damage.
He swung his club in as ferocious a manner as he could, and made all sorts of threatening gestures as he rushed forward.
Thinking that if they approached from two separate quarters the beast might grow more or less confused, and possibly slink away, Thad did notfollow directly in the track of his friend, but made a little detour.
Bob came to a pause. He was not more than a dozen feet away from the beast now, and there was danger that if he closed in any more the expected collision must take place.
Thad saw him draw his arm back. Undoubtedly Bob meant to hurl the heavy rock he had snatched up. If he missed his aim, he would then be entirely unprotected. But then Bob had pitched on a baseball team several seasons, and was said to have a very clever delivery, with the faculty of getting the ball over the rubber with clock-like precision. And a crouching wildcat, only a dozen feet away, is a large enough object to be counted a sure thing by an experienced ball player.
So even as Thad looked and wondered, he saw Bob let drive. And when the rock actually struck the cat between its glaring eyes, hurling it over backwards, Thad could not help letting out a yell.
"Good shot, Bob!" he cried. "Get another, quick, for he's coming after you like hot cakes!"
He himself was closing in on the cat all the time he shouted after this manner. In another moment they were all in a confused bunch, the enraged and wounded wildcat screaming and snarling; Thad pounding away every chance he got; Bob kicking wildly at the animal, as he looked for a chance toget hold of another stone; and the whole making quite a lively circus.
Several times Thad landed with such a will on the side of the springing wildcat that the wretched beast was knocked clean over. But with a desperation that was simply astonishing it would get together, and come flying back again, as though it really possessed the nine lives its tribe is given credit for.
Of course this could not last long. The game was too one-sided, with two against one; and in the end the cat was glad to jump into the bushes, with a parting expression of hatred in the form of a snarl.
The panting boys stood and looked at each other. Each of them had a few rents in their khaki trousers; and might have been served even worse only that theirputteesprotected the lower part of their limbs.
"Whew! that was a hot time!" gasped Thad. "Did you see how many times I bowled the thing over, and only to have to defend myself again? Give me a mad wildcat for gameness. They haven't their equal going, pound for pound."
"And I hit him when I threw that stone; I'm proud of that shot, suh!" declared the Southern boy, with a grim smile.
"Say, it was a right smart throw, all right; but s'pose yuh come and help me outen this trap now, strangers," came from the mountain girl.
As they turned toward her, and advanced, Thad saw immediately that she was not the little Bertha whom he had looked upon, sitting beside Reuben Sparks, and with her golden hair, seeming very much like a fairy.
This girl was slender, and with coarse, black hair. She was garbed in common homespun clothes, and wore shoes that were doubtless much too large for her feet. One of her ankles had been caught tightly in the crevice of the rock. She might have managed to extricate herself if given a little time; but the sudden appearance of that ugly fighting wildcat had upset her; so that she had twisted and squirmed until her foot was held as though in a blacksmith's vise.
Bob in his usual impetuous way might have been impelled to tug at that imprisoned foot, and add to her sufferings; but Thad, who was cooler, set about discovering just how it was gripped; then, as gently as he could he gave it a sudden turn, and the thing was done.
The girl uttered a little scream as a pain shot through her ankle; but then she realized that the way the boy had gone about it was the right one. Results count every time. When a man succeeds, the path he has taken is looked upon as a shining example to the rising generation; should he fail, the same route is pointed out as beset with unsurmountable difficulties.
"I'm right glad you kim along in time," the girl remarked, as her black eyes scanned the faces of the two boys who had done her such a good turn.
"Had you done anything to the cat; or was it just crazy for a fight?" asked Bob, as he looked more closely at the angular girl; and Thad thought he could detect that in his manner to tell he might have recognized her.
"'Pears like it was jest brim full of scrap, mister," she went on. "I was acomin' down ther side o' the mounting, paying 'tention to my own business, when I jest made er fool o' myself, like ye see, an' gut a foot fast atween the rocks. Then the critter showed up, and started makin' a row. I tried all I knowed how to break loose, but it was no go. An' I was jest agwine to hit the animal atween the eyes if it jumped me, when you-uns arriv. But I'm glad ye kim. 'Tain't nice to git yuh face all clawed to ribbands by cat's claws. Yep, I'm glad ye helped me outen it."
Thad saw that she was a character, this girl of the Blue Ridge. Rough and uncouth, she might be, still she possessed the qualities that real heroines were once made out of in the days of Joan of Arc.
Doubtless she must be the daughter of one of the poor "white trash" mountaineers who spend their time between making moonshine whiskey, and dodging revenue men. It struck Thad at the moment that perhaps, since they had been enabled to do hera good turn, she might be willing to assist them. Such a girl ought to know a good deal of what was going on back in the mountains. Her people must talk about the strange things that happened; perhaps she might be able to even tell Bob something about the prisoner who was said to be kept up there somewhere, working at the sour-mash in the never raided Still of Phin Dady.
With this bright idea in his mind Thad decided that fortune had indeed played another nice trick upon them, and one that would perhaps be to their advantage.
"Do you live near here; and will you be able to limp home?" he asked; for he saw that the ankle was somewhat swollen, and must pain more or less; although the girl scorned to show it by her manner.
"A right smart ways off from heah, stranger," she replied; "but then they be some o' my friends nigh this, who'll take keer o' me. Ye did hit up that ere onary cat some handsome, an' I shore think it won't want to tackle a pore gal ther next time it sees one."
"Perhaps we might help you along to the home of your friends," said Thad.
She looked at him keenly, for even the daughters of moonshiners grow to be suspicious of those whom they do not know.
"'Tain't no need, stranger; I kin take keer o' myself,I reckon. Not that I ain't feelin' 'bliged to ye, fur offerin'. I kain't furgit thet ye done me a good turn. Mebbe I ain't good lookin' like thet leetle cousin o' yours, Bob Quail; but it's the on'y face I'll ever hev; and no gal likes to be scratched an' gouged bad by the pizen claws o' a wildcat."
"Will you tell your father about this, Polly?" asked Bob, excitedly, Thad thought.
"'Pears like I hadn't orter keep it from him," she replied, slowly, watching the expressive and handsome face of the young Southerner closely. "Thems as don't think Phin Dady keers fur his fambly, but they don't know. Reckons he'd jest 'bout lay down his life furme, pore looker as I am!"
Thad drew a big breath. Really things were rushing forward by leaps and bounds now. For not only had the girl recognized his companion, who wished to keep his identity under cover while in the mountains; but this same Polly, as Bob called her, had now disclosed herself to be the daughter of the moonshiner, Old Phin Dady!
"I'mgoing to ask you a great favor, Polly," said Bob, earnestly.
"Then hit it up right smart, an' tell me," replied the girl, calmly, though Thad could see her dark, expressive face light up.
Polly had her share of the curiosity that is the heritage of her sex.
"You say you feel thankful that we happened along in time to drive that cat off; and you'd be willing to do something for us in return?" Bob went on.
"Thet's right, Bob Quail," returned the girl of the mountains sturdily. "Reckons as how it'd on'y be fair. What ye want me to do?"
"First of all, please don't whisper it to anybody around here that I have come back," the boy asked in his earnest tones; "and least of all to your father. You know he used to feel right sore against all my family, because my father in trying to do his sworn duty by the Government, ran up against the moonshine boys."
"Oh! thet's easy promised, Bob Quail," she replied,readily enough; "I kin keep a close tongue atween my teeth, ef I happens to be on'y a gal. But I kin see thet ain't all yer gwine to ask o' me."
"But everything else hinges on that, Polly," returned Bob; "and I'm glad you'll forget that you saw one of the Quail family. They're not in any too good odor in this part of the country. Now, you're wondering, I reckon, why I ever dared come back, after two years. Well, there were reasons that pulled me into the danger zone, Polly. One of them was—Bertha, my little cousin."
Polly smirked, and nodded her wise head.
"I cud a guessed thet, Bob Quail," she remarked. "Sumbody must a ben tellin' ye thet she ain't as happy as she mout be, thet's it. The old miser, he's cross as a bear with a sore head; an' I seen Bertha with red eyes more'n a few times. I don't blame ye 'bout wantin' to do somethin'; though I reckons ye'll find it a up-hill job, w'en ye tackle thet old fox."
"But there's a way to get him in a hole, and I believe I've found it," said Bob. "Only, if I'm chased out of the country before I can carry my plans through, you see, all my coming here wouldn't amount to a row of beans. That's one reason why I asked you to keep my secret. But there's another, Polly."
"Yep, they's another," she repeated after him, with her dark eyes fixed on his face, as though she might be able to read what was passing in his mind, and in this way was prepared to hear his new disclosure.
Thad knew what his comrade meant to say. It was a big risk, but he believed it could be carried through. This girl was no ordinary creature; she had latent possibilities slumbering beneath the surface in her nature, that, as yet, had never been called upon to show themselves. Besides, the girl was grateful to them for what they had done.
"You haven't forgotten what happened here some years ago, Polly," Bob went on. "My father led a party of revenue men into these mountains, meaning to destroy the secret Stills. He never came back. Those who were with him said that he had been shot down in a fierce fight with the moonshiners; and that he had died almost instantly. You haven't forgotten that terrible time, Polly, have you?"
"I reckons not," she muttered, stirring uneasily.
"Well, somehow I never could get myself to believe that my father was really dead. I had one of the revenue men in my pay, and he used to write me every week or so. It was through him I first heard the rumor that the moonshiners were said to have a prisoner up at your father's Still, who was kept constantly under guard, and made to work. They even said he was a revenue man; and that it was a part of the moonshiners' revenge to make him help manufacture the mountain dew, so as to pay up forthe quantities he had destroyed in his raids. You've heard more or less about this, too, haven't you, Polly?"
"Sure I has, Bob Quail," replied the girl.
"Polly, somehow I just can't get it out of my head that this mysterious prisoner of the mountains might be my own father; that he was badly wounded, and not killed in that fight; that the moonshiners nursed him back to health; and ever since he's been kept under guard. Do you know if that is so? I ask you to tell me, because it would mean a great deal to me, and to my poor mother at home in the North."
Polly shook her head in the negative.
"I jest can't say as to thet," she answered, soberly; "I done hears a heap 'bout some man as they has kep' a long time up thar, adoin' of the chores, an' never without a gun clost to his head; but I ain't never seed him. I gives ye my word on thet, Bob Quail."
"But Polly, youcouldsee him if you tried real hard, couldn't you?" the boy went on, in an anxious tone.
She looked at him. The eager expression on poor Bob's face would have moved a heart of stone; and Polly was surely deeply touched.
"I reckons I cud," she answered, steadily; while in her black eyes stole a glow that gave Thad a curious feeling; for he began to believe that theyhad after all come upon an unexpected and valuable ally, right in the household of the chief enemy.
"Think what it means to me, Polly," Bob suggested, knowing how best to appeal to her sympathies. "Put yourself in my place, and tell me what you would do if it was your own father who was held a prisoner, and you had long believed him dead? Do you blame me for coming back to these mountains to try and learn the truth; and if it should turn out to be all I dream it may, of attempting in some way to bring about his release. Would you blame me, Polly?"
"Sure I wudn't, Bob Quail," she replied.
"And will you help me find out?" he went on, feverishly.
"Seein's I owe ye a heap, 'case o' what ye done fur me this day, I'm gwine to say jest what ye wants me to," the girl returned.
With an almost inarticulate cry Bob seized her hand, and gave it a squeeze.
"Oh! you don't know how happy you've made me by saying that, Polly!" he exclaimed. "And if itshouldturn out to be my poor father, won't you try and help me get him free? He'll never come back here again to bother your people; I give you my word for that, Polly, sure I do. Will you help me do it?"
"Thet's asking a hull lot, Bob Quail," she muttered,doubtfully, as though she realized the magnitude of the task he would put upon her shoulders. "It's wantin' me to go agin my own dad. If so be thar is a revenue kep' up thar to the Still, it'shisdoin's. An' 'less he gives the word, thar ain't nobody dar's to let that man go free. An' now ye arsk me to play agin my own people. It's a big thing ye want done, Bob Quail. I dunno; I dunno!"
But Thad could see she was wavering. He believed that if Bob only pressed his point he must win out.
"Listen, Polly," and Bob caught hold of her wrist as he spoke, as though to hold her attention better; "more than two long years this man has been held there, the sport and plaything of the moonshiners, and made to do their rough work. It must have broken his spirit sadly. And surely your father's desire for revenge should be wholly satisfied by now. Think of my mother, mourning him as dead all this time, Polly. Just imagine her wonderful joy if he came back to her again alive and in the flesh! Oh! don't talk to me about the risks I am running in just coming here; gladly would I put my life in danger ten times over, if I knew there was a chance to find him, and bring him home with me. That is whatyouwould do, Polly; and perhaps some day, when sorrow and trouble come to you, I may be able to do you a good turn,even as you are going to do for me now; because something tells me you are, Polly!"
That settled it. Bob had gone about the matter in just the right way to reach the moonshiner's daughter's heart. No doubt she often thought of the black day that might come at any time, when those never sleeping Government agents would capture Old Phin, and he look a long sentence in the face. Yes, it would be worth something to know that they had a friend in court when that time rolled around.
"Yes, I'm agwine to help ye, Bob Quail," she said, slowly. "I don't jest know yet how far I kin go; but anyways I'll promise to find out who thet prisoner up at the Still kin be. Then, mebbe I mout think it over, an' reckon as it's jest like ye sez, an' he's shore be'n punished enuff. Thet's all I'll tell ye right now."
"Well, it's mighty fine of you to say as much as that, Polly, and I want you to know I appreciate it more than I can tell you," the Southern boy went on, his dark handsome face radiant with renewed hope, as his heart beat high in the belief that his loftiest dreams might after all come true.
"I hope that foot won't keep you from walking?" Thad thought to remark just then.
This caused Bob to remember that he had a chum near by, and he hastened to say:
"This is one of my best friends, Thad Brewster,Polly. We belong to the troop of Boy Scouts encamped down below. Perhaps you have heard your father speak of them? He was in our camp more than an hour last night, and my chum here seemed to interest him a heap in telling all about what scouts aim to do in the world."
"Yep, I heerd 'bout hit," the girl replied, as she gave Thad a short nod; "an' he shore was takin' sum stock in wat he done heerd. My dad, he allers liked boys better'n he did gals. Lost three on 'em, he did, an' every one died with his boots on! But ye needn't git skeered 'bout this hyar foot ahurtin' me none. We knows what kin' o' stuff to put on a sprain, as'll take ther swellin' down right smart. See, I kin walk jest as good as I ever cud. An' I'll find out fur ye 'bout thet man up to the Still, sure I will, Bob."
"When can I see you again, Polly?" Bob asked, anxiously. "You know time is worth a heap to me right now. Say soon, please; sometime to-night, if you can; and it'll help a lot. I'll never be able to sleep a wink now till I know the truth."
"Mout as well put her through on ther lightnin' express as not," she replied. "I reckons I kin promise ye to-night. An' I knows whar yer camp lays, 'case I arsked my dad. Thort I mout happen thet way, an' see what boys looked like as was dressed in smart close. It's gwine to be a hard job, seems like, an' mebbe I carn't git 'roun' till late, butI'll be thar, Bob Quail! Ye done ther right thing by me, an' Polly Dady don't forgit."
Then turning her back on the two boys, the mountain girl swung herself along the rough face of the hillside with a perfect confidence in her ability to keep her footing that only a chamois might have exceeded.
And Thad, looking at his chum, saw that the other's face was wreathed in a smile such as had long been a stranger there.
"The best day's work I ever did, Thad!" exclaimed Bob, as he seized his chum's hand, and squeezed it convulsively. "Something just tells me Polly is going to be my good fairy, and bring me the greatest gift that ever could be—the knowledge that my dear father lives."
"Shallwe go back the same way we came up?" asked Thad, as they made a start toward returning to the camp down below.
"I think I'd like to try another route," Bob replied. "Some of those places we hit were pretty tough climbing; and you know it's always hardergoing down, than up a mountain. Seems to me we'll strike an easier way over to the right here."
"My opinion exactly," Thad declared, ready to fall in with anything which the other proposed, because he was interested heart and soul in the work Bob had cut out for himself—trying to bring more of happiness into the life of little Bertha, his cousin; and finding out whether his long-lost father was still in the land of the living.
They had gone about half of the way, and found that, just as Bob guessed, it was much easier than the other route would have proven, when Thad made a discovery that gave him a little thrill.
"There's a man, Bob!" he exclaimed, suddenly.
"Where?" demanded the other, turning his head around; for he happened to be a trifle in advance of his companion at the time.
"Over yonder, on that rock, and of course with a rifle in sight; for you never see one of these mountaineers without that. I wouldn't be surprised to hear that some of them go to bed with their guns in their arms. Do you see him now, Bob?"
"Yes, and can understand why he's sitting there like that," replied the other, rather bitterly.
"Looks like he might have a touch of the fever and ague, and that with a spell of the shakes on, he wanted to sun himself," suggested Thad; though he knew full well the true explanation was along other lines entirely.
"He's doing sentry duty," remarked Bob, soberly. "You can see, Thad, that from where he lies he has a splendid view of the road we came over?"
"That's a fact, and could even toss a rock down on it if he chose," continued the patrol leader. "I understood that, Bob, and can guess why he was placed there by Old Phin Dady."
"I suppose they're all around us," remarked the Southern boy, "and as I said last night, they've sure got us marooned, all right. We can't move without they're knowing it. Oh! what sort of chance would I have to get him out of this awful country, even if it should turn out to be my father who is the prisoner of the moonshiners? Thad, I reckon it's a forlorn hope after all."
"Well," remarked the other, seeing that Bob needed cheering up again, "even if you only discover that he is alive, that will be great news alone. And when things get to coming your way the style they've been doing lately, believe me, you can hope for the best. Keep your spirits up, Bob. That girl is going to help us more than we ever dreamed of."
"Itwasgreat luck, our running across Polly; and then the chance to do her a favor, could you beat it? Reckon you're right, Thad; and I'm foolish for letting myself look at the dark side, when things are breaking so splendidly for me."
"That fellow doesn't seem to pay much attentionto us, though I'm sure he knows we're going to pass him by," Thad continued, in a lower voice.
"I used to know a good many of the men around here, and this might be one of the lot; so I hadn't better take any chances of his seeing me too close in the daylight," and with this remark Bob drew the brim of his hat lower over his face.
The man never so much as moved, though the two descending boys passed within thirty feet of where he reclined on the rock, his face turned toward the road that wound in and out of the tangle far below.
Thad believed he could see a pair of sharp eyes under the man's hat, that kept watch over their movements; but there was no hail, or other sign of life from that sphinx-like figure stretched out at length on the sunny rock. Should they have given the mountaineer cause for displaying any activity, no doubt he would be quick to take action.
Thad certainly did not want to strike up a conversation with so morose a man; and especially when his chum wished to keep aloof from him. So they continued along down the side of the mountain, and soon lost sight of the vidette.
Still, the circumstance left a bad feeling behind. It was far from pleasant for the boys to realize how completely they had put themselves in the power of these mountain moonshiners. Just as Bob had so bitterly declared, Old Phin ruled with an iron handamong the men who lived here among the uplifts; and once he had placed sentries on duty to watch the movements of the scouts, they could neither go forward nor retreat, unless that gaunt moonshiner crooked his finger.
"I don't see how it can be done," Bob broke out later, as they began to draw near the camp again; as though he had been wrestling with some subject, and reached a point where he needed counsel.
"As what?" inquired his comrade.
"Work both ends of the affair at the same time," continued Bob. "Suppose, now, I find that the paper Bertha has seen is the very one I've been hoping to get my hands on; and she comes to me to-night; how can I carry her away, and at the same time stay here to find out about the news Polly will bring me?"
"Now, I'm glad you spoke of that, Bob," Thad declared; "because I've been trying to puzzle out that same thing myself. And I really believe I've hit the only answer."
"Then let me hear it, for goodness sake, please!" exclaimed the other, in a relieved tone; for he well knew that when Thad Brewster said a thing that way, he must feel pretty confident he had the right solution in hand.
"Just as you say, it would be next to impossible to take Bertha away from here, and at the sametime carry out your plans in connection with that other business. That is of the first importance, it seems to me, Bob. This other about Bertha can wait some, if it comes to it."
"Yes, it could, I suppose," admitted the other, slowly. "Bertha is unhappy she says, and he treats her wretchedly; but then he is not really cruel to her. Tell me your plan, Thad, and I'll be ready to stand by it."
"Suppose, then, she brings you that paper, and it turns out to be all you hope for? You can take it away with you, and when we get back to Asheville place it in the hands of some reliable lawyer, who will have Reuben summoned to court with the girl. Then she will never be allowed to go back with him again; and he may consider himself lucky if he gets off without being sent to jail for having withheld a lawful document, and replacing it with a false will, or one that was older."
Bob uttered a cry of delight.
"It sure takes you to think up an answer to every hard, knotty problem, Thad," he cried. "That is just the best thing ever, and I'm willing to try it. Why, for me to take the law in my hands would be silly, when the courts will save me all the risk. And while I hate to disappoint poor little Bertha, who believes I'm down here to carry her off, in spite of old Reuben, she'll understand, and be willing to wait a bit. Thank you over and over again, Thad.I'm feeling a thousand per cent better, suh, after what you said."
"And about the other thing, Bob, I wouldn't let myself believe too strongly that this mysterious prisoner of the moonshiners will turn out to be your father. There were some other revenue men who have disappeared in the last few years, men who started into the mountains to learn things, and never came out again. It might be one of these after all. And I guess you'd be awfully disappointed if you set too much store on that thing."
"I keep trying all I know how not to hopetoomuch, Thad," replied the other, with a big sigh; "and tellin' myself that it would be too great news; yet, seems like there was a little bird nestlin' away down in here, that goes on singin' all the while, singin' like a mockingbird that brings good news," and Bob laid a trembling hand on his breast in the region of his heart, as he spoke.
"Well," said Thad, warmly, "I'm just hoping that everything'll come out the way you want, old fellow. We're going to back you up the best we know how; and if we fail to do what we aim for, it won't be from lack of trying."
"I know that, and I'll never, never forget it as long as I live!" declared the other, almost choking in his emotion.
"There's the camp," remarked Thad, five minutes later, "and everything seems to be going along allright at the old stand. I can see Step Hen lying on his back, with his hat over his eyes as if he might be taking a nap; Smithy is of course brushing his coat, because he has discovered some specks of dust on it that worry him; and if you look at Giraffe, you'll know what he's up to when I tell you he's whittling at a piece of pine, to beat the band."
"Getting kindling ready to start up the fire, when supper time comes around," said Bob, with a chuckle, as though some of these familiar sights began to do him good, in that they served to take his thoughts away from the things that distressed and worried him.
When the two scouts arrived in camp they were immediately surrounded by their comrades, who demanded to know what they had seen and done. To judge from the variety of questions that showered upon them, one might think that Thad and Bob had been off on a regular foraging expedition, and scouring the upper regions in search of adventures.
And indeed, they did have something to tell that made the others stare. The several little holes in their clothes, evidently made by sharp claws, gave evidence as to the truth of their wonderful story. And all of the stay-at-homes united in the fervent hope that Polly Dady might be grateful enough to bring Bob the news he yearned to possess.
Several of the boys had been dispatched to the cabins across the valley, where they managed to purchasesome dozens of eggs, but could get no bacon. They did secure a couple of fowls, however, which were even then plucked, and ready for the pot.
As evening settled down soon afterward, the scouts prepared to make themselves as comfortable as the circumstances allowed.
And certainly not one among them so much as dreamed that other peculiar events were on the calendar; ready to take their places upon the stage; and advance the interests of the fellow scout, whose yearning to look again on the familiar scenes of his younger years had influenced the others to hike through the Blue Ridge Range.
"Say fellers, did anybody see that——"
Step Hen had just managed to get that far in what he was about to say, when he was rudely interrupted by a combined shout from Giraffe, Davy Jones, and Bumpus.
"Don't you dare accuse us of taking any of your old traps, Step Hen!" said the last named scout, severely.
"We're sure gettin' awful tired of that war cry,"declared Giraffe. "It's always this thing or that he's lost, and never by his own fault at all. A sly little jinx is hoverin' around, ready to grab up a thing just as soon as Step lays it down. Still, I notice that every single time, it turns out he put it there himself. Get a new tune for a change, Step Hen, and ring it on us."
"By the way," remarked Smithy, who was very polite, and never joined in the loud and boisterous jeers that greeted some break on the part of a comrade; "what fresh misfortune has overtaken you now, Step Hen?"
"Oh!" replied the other, with a broad grin, "when our funny friends broke in on me that way, I was only going to ask if any of you wide-awake scouts had noticed that I had my badge turned right-side up, early this morning?"
There was a general laugh at this, even the three culprits joining in.
Among all Boy Scouts, it has become the proper wrinkle to turn the badge upside down to start the day; and the wearer has no right to change its position until he has done an actual good deed toward some one else; or even helped an animal that was in distress. Many are the expedients resorted to, in order to gain this privilege; for it is deemed in bad taste to spend the entire day with the badge reversed on the lapel of the coat.
A thousand ways can be found whereby the boymay feel that he has a right to alter the position of his badge, and prove that he had done something of a kindly nature, that is a credit to his character. An old woman may be helped across the street; a heavy basket carried for a child; a box that is trying the strength of a single man may be made easier to lift into a wagon by a pair of sturdy, willing hands; the harness that is galling the shoulder of a horse can be rendered less troublesome if a rag is doubled up, and fastened to the leather—well, the list of things that wide-awake scouts find in order to gain this privilege would really seem to be without end.
So all the others now turned toward Step Hen, with curiosity expressed on their faces; for they seemed to guess that it could be no ordinary explanation that he meant to give them.
"What wonderful stunt did you manage to carry through so early in the day, down in this forsaken country?" demanded Giraffe.
Bumpus looked forlornly at his own badge, that still hung to his coat lapel in its reversed position; showing that he, at least, had not been able to discover any means of doing a good turn to some object, however humble; in fact, he had, like most of the other boys, entirely forgotten about the usual programme. There were no old ladies to help down here; no errands to run for mother; no problems to solve for little brother; nothing but the everlastingmountains rising grimly all about them, and silence lying on the scene like a great blanket.
"I reckon I'm the only one in the bunch that's been smart enough to get his badge turned to-day," chuckled Step Hen, proudly exhibiting the article in question; "and I'd just like the fun of hearing all of you try and guess how I managed it; but then, I know you'd never hit on the truth in a thousand years; and so I s'pose I'll have to up and tell you."
"Oh! wake me up, somebody, when he gets really started," groaned Giraffe; "of all the slow-pokes, Step Hen takes the cake."
"I'll tell you," began the other, with a sly look toward the speaker, as though he purposely delayed his disclosure in order to annoy the impatient Giraffe; "you see, it was this way, fellows. I happened to be walking out along the back road just after we'd done breakfast. Thought I'd dropped my handkerchief somewhere, but afterwards I found it inside my hat, you know."
"Sure, it's always that way," muttered Giraffe, who lay with his eyes closed, but drinking in all that was said.
"Well," continued Step Hen, "all at once I noticed something that interested me a whole lot. There was one of them queer little tumble-bugs you always see ashovin' round balls along the road, an' goin' somewhere that nobody ever yet found out. This critter was tryin' like all possessed to push hisball up a steep little place in the road. Sometimes he'd get her close to the top, and then lose his grip; when it'd roll all the way back again.
"Say, boys, that insect's pluck interested me a heap, now, I'm tellin' you. Right there I got one of the best lessons a scout ever picked up in all his life; which was the old story, 'if at first you don't succeed, try, try again.' And he kept on tryin' again and again. I must a stayed there all of half an hour, just watchin' that game little critter pushin' his ball up against the hardest luck ever. And then, when I just couldn't stand it any longer I took bug and ball in my hand, and put 'em both up on top of that rise. And after that I thought I had a right to turn my badge right-side up!"
The scouts looked at each other. Somehow, they did not laugh, though surely it must have been one of the queerest reasons ever advanced by a fellow-scout, as an excuse for wearing his badge honorably.
Despite its grotesque nature, there was also something rather pathetic about the thought of Step Hen, only a careless, half-grown lad at best, spending a whole lot of time, simply watching an humble but game little beetle trying to fight against hard luck, and almost as interested in the outcome as the wretched bug itself.
"How about that, Mr. Scoutmaster; is Step entitled to wear his badge that way, on account of helping that silly little bug climb his mountain?"asked Davy, turning to Thad; but though his words might seem to indicate a touch of scorn, there was certainly nothing of the sort in his manner.
Thad himself had been amused, and deeply interested, in Step Hen's recital. Only too well did he know what a careless and indifferent fellow the boy had ordinarily been classed, both at school and at home. Seldom, if ever, had he paid the least attention to things that were happening all around him, and which might appeal to the sympathies of boys who were made of finer grain than Step Hen.
And now, it seemed that something had been making an insidious change inside the scout; when he could feel such intense interest in so trivial a thing as the pluck of an obscure tumble-bug. Time was when Step Hen would have cared little whether or not he came down with his heel upon such an object, which ought to know better than get in his path.
It was different now, since Step Hen had joined the scouts. His eyes had been opened to many things, the existence of which he had never dreamed in those other days. And he could never again be the same indifferent fellow; he must go on advancing along the trail that led to a better knowledge of Nature's great secrets; and above all else, the capacity that lay within his own heart for understanding these myriads of small but wonderful things.
"I'm not going to answer that question myself,Davy," said Thad, with a smile. "Fact is, I'd much rather have the candid opinion of every scout on the subject. So I'm going to put it to a vote, here and now; and I want you to be serious about it, small matter though it may seem; for upon such things rests the very foundations of the whole Boy Scout movement—observing, understanding, appreciating."
"Whew!" muttered Giraffe, "and all this fuss about one little tumble-bug!"
"Those who really and truly think Step Hen had a full right to turn his badge right side up for the interest he took in that game little creature's struggle to overcome what seemed unsurmountable difficulties, and for lending a helping hand in the end, raise the right hand," and Thad put his up for a starter.
Not counting Step Hen himself, there were just seven fellows present when Thad asked them to show their colors. And including the scoutmaster himself, just seven instantly raised a hand.
Thad laughed softly. It gave him more pleasure than he could tell to see that the boys understood the motive that had swayed their comrade. And doubtless this vote of confidence would urge Step Hen to go along the path he had discovered, with ever-increasing confidence, as its charms continued to be revealed in ever-increasing proportions day by day. A new world would soon open up to his inquiringeyes. He would find ten thousand things of tremendous interest all around him, to which he had up to now been as blind as a bat. Never again would he feel alone, even though no comrade were at his side; for he could discover innumerable objects about him at any time, calculated to chain his attention.
"Seems to be unanimous, fellows," remarked Thad; "and I hereby publicly commend our comrade, Step Hen, for his action of this morning. Yes, he did have a right to turn his badge. It was not so muchwhathe did, as the feeling he showed in, first of all, stopping to watch the bug; second, getting tremendously interested in its never-give-up spirit; third, in applying the principal to himself; and last but not least, his desire to lend a helping hand. For Step Hen, boys, this has been a day that some time later on in life, he will mark with a white stone; for he has begun to notice things. And with the fever on him, he'll have to keep on noticing, until he'll think it's not the same old world at all but one filled at every turn with splendid discoveries. I know, because I've been through the same thing myself."
"Hurrah!" said Giraffe, who had been considerably impressed by what the scoutmaster had said. "What did I tell you, fellows, about not missing Dr. Philander Hobbs, our regular scoutmaster, on this hike? D'ye think now, he could have said allthat one-half as good as Thad did? I guess not. And Step Hen, I'm ashamed to say that the whole blessed day has gone by without my ever thinking to do something good for another feller, so I could turn my badge over. There she rests; and I give you all fair notice that to-morrow I'm going to start in right away to get it moving."
"Plenty of time to-night yet, Giraffe," piped up Davy. "I happen to know a fellow who thinks a certain knife you own would look mighty fine in his pocket, if only you'd take the trade he offers. Now, if you made him happy, p'raps you'd have the right to turn your badge; and he c'd do ditto, making it a killing of two birds with one stone. Better think it over, Giraffe."
The tall boy looked at Davy with a frown, and shook his head.
"'Tain't fair to put it up to me that way, Davy," he declared, obstinately. "You just know I don't want to trade, the least bit. Now, if you'd say, that on the whole you'd concluded to quit botherin' me, that would be a good deed, and I reckon you'd ought to have the right to turn your badge."
At this ingenious return thrust Davy subsided, with a grin, and a general laugh arose from the other scouts.
But if most of the boys were merry, there was one who looked sober enough. Of course this was Bob Quail. He knew what a tremendous undertakinghe had before him, and the results seemed so uncertain that it was only natural he should feel the heavy weight resting upon his young shoulders.
First of all, he must meet his cousin, Bertha, and learn what success had followed her efforts to discover whether the paper she had seen by accident in her guardian's safe was the missing document which Bob believed Reuben had abstracted, placing another in its place. Then, later on, he had that appointment with Polly, the moonshiner's daughter, who was to bring him news concerning the mysterious prisoner.
Yes, Bob certainly had quite enough on his young mind to make him anything but jovial. Still, he had been more or less interested in what was going on around him, for he was, after all, a boy.
They were eating supper, as they chatted in this way. Night had settled down on the scene. It promised to be a pretty dark night at that, Thad realized, as he looked around him, and then up at the heavens, where a few stars held forth, but gave very little light.
It was fortunate that Bob happened to be so well acquainted around that vicinity otherwise he would never have been able to cross to the other side of the strange little basin which they called a valley, without carrying a lantern; and this in itself must be out of the question, since its light would betray him.
While they were eating, they heard a gunshot not far away.
"Wow! what d'ye think that means?" exclaimed Giraffe, jumping to his feet, and looking off in the gloom toward the back trail. "Seemed to me like it came from down that way, eh, boys."
"It sure did," announced Davy Jones, positively.
"And it was a gun in the bargain, with a big load. What d'ye s'pose they could find to shoot at in the dark?" demanded Step Hen.
"Oh! lots of things," replied Allan. "If a bobcat jumped in on us right now, we'd think of using our gun, wouldn't we? But it might be that shot was some sort of signal, after all."
"There wasn't any answer, that's sure," interposed Bumpus.
"But seems to me I can hear somebody talking pretty loud that way," observed the listening Thad.
"I did too," declared Smithy; "but it's died away now, as though the excitement might be over. I wonder what it was, fellows?"
"Chances are, we'll never know," returned Giraffe, settling back once more to continue eating, for he was not yet through.
"Lots of queer things are happening all around us, that we'll never know," remarked Step Hen, seriously.
Thad looked at him curiously. This was a strange remark to come from the happy-go-lucky Step Hen.It looked as though his one little experience of that morning had indeed done wonders toward causing the careless lad to turn over a new leaf. He was beginning tothink, and see what a great big world this is after all. His horizon had been moved back hugely since he first yawned, and stretched, that same morning.
And the queer part of it was that no one thought to joke the boy about his altered disposition. They seemed to understand that it was no joking matter. Doubtless Step Hen's reformation would not be accomplished in a day, nor a week, nor even a month; but he had taken the first step, and from now on must begin to arouse himself to making a good use of the faculties with which a kindly Nature had endowed him.
"Listen!" exclaimed Thad, a little while later, just as they were about done supper.
"I heard somebody talking, too!" declared Davy Jones; while Allan showed by his manner that the sounds had surely come to his acute hearing, trained by long service in the piney woods of his native state.
"They're comin' this way, too; I c'n hear 'em pushin' through the bushes, and stumblin' along too." Bumpus declared, in an awed tone; looking a trifle worried, and wishing Thad would only snatch up that gun, lying against the tree trunk, which the other did not seem at all anxious to do.
The voices drew steadily nearer, as the boys stood and listened.
"Hyar's a fire, Nate; we gut ter git him thar, sure's anything. I tell yuh he'll never be able tuh walk 'crost tuh the doc's cabin. He'll bleed tuh death long 'foah we gits thar with 'im. Steady now, Cliff; hyah's a light, an' we kin see how bad yuh is hurt!"
Then, while the scouts stood and stared in amazement, a group of three men staggered into view, two of them assisting the third, whose faltering steps showed that he must have been injured, even if the arm that dangled helplessly at his side had not told the tale of a serious gunshot wound!
No wonder that the Boy Scouts felt a thrill as they watched these rough mountaineers enter their camp in this strange way.
"Whee!"
It was Bumpus who gave utterance to this exclamation, though possibly he hardly realized, himself, that he was saying anything, as he stood there, and gaped at the sight of the wounded mountaineer being helped along into their camp.
But if Bumpus, and some of the others, were spell-bound by what they saw, gazing as though fascinated at the blood dripping from the man's fingers, Thad Brewster was not included in this group.
He had long ago picked up a smattering of knowledge connected with a surgeon's duties; and ever since taking up the new life of a Boy Scout, those things which concerned the saving of human life had somehow appealed to young Thad with redoubled force.
More than once now had he been called upon to show what he knew along these lines. A boy had been severely cut by an ax he was carelessly wielding in camp; and might have bled to death only for the energetic actions of Thad, who knew just how to secure a stout bandanna handkerchief around above the wound, with the knot pressing on the artery; and making atourniquetby passing a stick through the folds of the rude bandage, twist until the bleeding was temporarily stopped, and the boy could be taken to a doctor.
Another time it had been a case of near drowning, when Thad, who had learned his lesson well, succeeded in exercising the lad's arms, after laying him on his chest and pressing his knee upon him, until he had started the lungs to working. In that case every one of the other scouts declared that only forthese prompt applications of scout knowledge the unfortunate one would surely have died.
And so, when he saw that the man who was being thus supported into their camp had been shot in the arm, and was in danger of bleeding to death, the surgeon instinct in Thad Brewster came immediately to the surface.
He never once thought about the fact that the man was very probably one of those very lawless moonshiners, whose presence all around had virtually marooned himself and chums in the heart of the mountains. He was a man, and in trouble; and perhaps Thad could be of some help!
And so the generous-hearted boy sprang forward, eager to lend a hand.
"Bring him right up to the fire, men!" he exclaimed. "What happened to him? Was he shot? We heard a gun go off a little while ago, and wondered what it meant."
The two men urged their injured companion forward. He seemed to have little mind of his own in the matter; though Thad could see that he had his jaws set, and was apparently determined to betray no sign of weakness in this terrible hour. The customary grit of the North Carolina mountaineer was there, without fail. It showed in the clenched hand, the grim look on his weather-beaten face, as well as in those tightly closed teeth.
"Yep, 'twar an accident," almost fiercely replied one of the men, whom Thad now recognized as the fellow whom they had met driving the vehicle that Bob declared had kegs of the illicit mountain dew hidden under the straw—Nate Busby. "We was walkin' thro' ther woods w'en a twig cort the trigger o' my gun, and she hit Cliff in the arm, makin' a bad hurt. Reckons as how he never kin hold out till we-uns git him acrost ter ther doc's cabin."
"You could, if we managed to stop that bleeding," said Thad, eagerly. "Bring him over here, and let me take a look, men. I've done a little something that way. And perhaps you don't know it; but all Boy Scouts are taught how to shut off the flow of blood. There, set him down, and help me get his coat off. There's no time to lose."
"Nope, thar's sure no time tuh lose," muttered the wretched Nate, who was undoubtedly feeling very keenly the fact that it had beenhisgun that had been discharged through accident, causing all this trouble; and that if the man died, his relatives might even want to hold the unlucky owner of that weapon to account for his carelessness, inexcusable in one who had been mountain born and bred.
They sat the wounded man down as gently as though he had been a babe; after which Nate assisted Thad to take the ragged coat off.
Some of the scouts crowded close, though with white faces; for the sight of blood is always enoughto send a cold chill to the hearts of those unaccustomed to the spectacle. But Allan was an exception; and strangely enough, there was Smithy, whom no one would ever have expected to show the least bit of nerve, evidently ready to lend the amateur surgeon a helping hand, if he called for recruits. It often takes a sudden emergency call like this to show what is under the veneered surface of a boy. Smithy had always been deemed rather effeminate; yet here he could stand a sight that sent the cold shivers chasing up and down the spines of such fellows as Giraffe, Davy Jones, and Step Hen, and almost completely upset poor Bumpus.
"Get me one of those stout bandages I brought along, Allan, please," said Thad, when he could see what the terrible nature of the wound was; "you know where they are. And Smithy, will you hand me that stick yonder?"
In a brief space of time the several articles were at the service of the boy, who first of all made a good-sized knot in the handkerchief, after wrapping it around the man's armabovethe wound; and then, inserting the stout stick, he began twisting the same vigorously.
It must have pained tremendously, but not a whimper, not a semblance of a groan did they hear from the bearded lips of the wounded mountaineer. Indeed, he seemed to arouse himself sufficiently to watch the confident operations of the young surgeonwith a rising curiosity; and Thad thought he could detect a slight smile on his dark face.
As for Nate and the other rough man, they stared as though unable to believe their eyes, to thus see a mere boy so wonderfully able to do what was necessary in a case of life and death. Every little movement did they follow with wrapt attention. No doubt, a great relief had already commenced to rise up in the heart of Nate, as hope again took hold upon him. If the other survived the shock, and loss of blood, it would not be so bad; and trouble might not come home to him on account of his liability for the accident.
Thad soon knew that he had done the right thing. The knot had been properly placed, so that the pressure upon the artery above the wound prevented any more blood being pumped that way by the excited action of the man's heart.
"There," he remarked, in a satisfied way, "I guess we've got the bleeding held up, and you can get him to a doctor, if, as you say, there is one across the valley. I'm going to bind this stick so it can't come loose while you're helping him along. But if it should, perhaps you've seen how I did the job, and you could fix it up again?"
"Sure," replied Nate; "and yuh dun it ther neatest I ever knowed, younker. Reckon as how Cliff Dorie an' me has reason tuh be glad yuh happened tuh be so clost. If so be he lives thru hit, as he willnow, dead sartin, he's gwine tuh owe his life tuh yer."
Thad happened to catch a glimpse of Bob's face just then, as the other turned toward him; for up to now he had been keeping rather aloof, not wishing to be noticed by either of the mountain men. He was surprised to see the expression of suddenly renewed hope that seemed to have taken up its abiding place there. Apparently the Southern boy had made a pleasing discovery, which of course Thad could only guess at, until he had found a chance to speak to his comrade. But he understood readily enough that it must concern the coming of the three men, and the fact of the scouts being enabled to place them under obligations.
With the flow of blood stopped, the wounded man seemed to gather new energy. He no doubt felt that he had at least a fair chance to pull through. He started to get on his feet, seeing which Thad immediately offered his hand to help him; and the mountaineer's horny palm was confidently thrust into his much smaller one; as though, after what miracle he had already seen the lad perform, the man were willing to trust him in anything.
Yes. Fortune had again been kind to the scouts; only in this instance it had not been a case of searching for chances to do good; the opportunity had come knocking at their very door, so that all that was necessary was for them tobe prepared, just asthe scout's motto signifies, and then do the best they knew how.
Again did the two men take hold of their stricken companion. Before they quit the vicinity of the fire, however, the man named Nate Busby turned and shook hands all around. Evidently he was grateful for the assistance rendered. To his mind this first aid to the injured meant a whole lot; and while he did not say a single word, his action was enough to show what he thought.
Then the group departed, heading toward the other side of the valley, where, in one of the humble cabins, some sort of mountain doctor was to be found, rude in his way, no doubt, but perfectly capable of attending to a gunshot wound; for these doubtless constituted the bulk of calls that were made upon his services.
When they had gone the scouts began to discuss the queer happening, and compare notes as to which one of them had shown the least alarm.
Bob Quail came directly over to where Allan and Thad were standing, just as the latter had expected he would do. That expression of eager anticipation still shone upon his dark face, and his eyes fairly glowed with satisfaction.
"Well, will wonders ever stop happening?" he said, as he reached the others. "Did you hear what Nate called the wounded man, Thad, Allan?"
"Yes, it was Cliff Dorie. And I guess you'veheard it before, judging from the way you act?" observed the scoutmaster.
"Talk about luck, why, we're just swimming neck deep in it, suh!" the other continued. "I thought he looked a little like somebody I'd known befoah; and when I heard that name, I knew it; Why, Cliff Dorie is the brother of Old Phin's wife!"
"Fine!" exclaimed Allan, with a broad smile.
"I should say, yes," Bob went on, eagerly; "seems as though we were just bound to put the whole Dady family in our debt. There was Old Phin himself, who felt so interested in all you told him about the Boy Scout movement; then there was Polly, who might have had her face badly scratched, not to mention other wounds, if we hadn't just happened to get there in time to chase that savage mother bobcat off. And now you've gone and saved the life of Polly's own uncle. Oh! p'raps, suh, we won't have to get into any fuss at all about that prisoner of the Still; p'raps Old Phin might feel that we'd done his family enough good to change his mind about keepin' that revenue man up there any longer, aworkin' his life out; and let him go away with us, if he promised never to tell anything he'd learned. And let me say to you both, I'm feelin' somethin' right here, inside, that seems to tell me it's going to be all right, all right!" and Bob repeated those last two words softly, caressingly, as though they meant everything in the wide world to him.