....H.E—L.....P
Then he fainted away.
FOUND AT LAST
WHEN we saw the smoke signal on Greylock, the first thing we thought of was to signal back. But Skinny said:
"Come on. He won't be looking for us here. Bob's Hill is the place. He can see us there."
We started on a run across the fields, getting more excited every minute.
"I don't see how Bill could lose any camp," exclaimed Benny.
"And I don't see what he is doing on Greylock when he started for North Adams," Hank said.
"Maybe it isn't Bill, at all," I told them. "I've seen smoke on Greylock more than once."
"It's Bill all right," Skinny said. "I can almost hear him. We don't know how he got there, but he's there and he can't get back. Something has happened."
"Anyhow, we'll soon find out," we all thought, when we came in sight of the twin stones.
"I'll run down home and get a blanket," I told them, "while the rest of you make a fire."
Our house is right at the foot of the hill and it didn't take me long. The old horse blanket which we used in signaling was in the woodshed. I only stopped long enough to wet it and call to Ma that Bill was up on Greylock signaling.
She was almost as excited as I was.
"Hurry!" said she. "Don't wait for me. I'll come as soon as I can."
I hadn't thought of waiting for anybody.
She grabbed a pair of field glasses off the shelf and rushed after me. I heard her calling to Mrs. Blackinton when she went through the yard and I had to go some to keep ahead.
By the time we had climbed the hill, the boys had a big fire going and were piling on green branches and leaves to make it smoke. Then we caught hold of the blanket by the corners, ready to shut off the smoke.
"Ask if it's Bill," Skinny told us, watching the two smokes on the mountain.
Then we signaled, "Is it you, Bill?" and repeated it. Before we had finished the second time Skinny gave a shout.
"It's Bill," said he. "He's signaling."
We could see one column of smoke break up into puffs, but couldn't see very plain because the smoke was so thin and far away.
"Here, take this glass," said Ma, handing the field glass to Skinny.
"Hurrah," he cried, after he had looked through them. "I can see real good."
Then he held up one hand and we waited while he called off the letters.
"H-E-L-P."
That was all. We waited for more but nothing came.
Before we had turned to go Ma was halfway down the hill and running to beat the band. I knew that if Bill didn't get help it wouldn't be her fault.
"See if you can get hold of Mr. Wilson,"she called, as soon as we came in sight. "I'll telephone his house. If you can't get him, get somebody. Your father has gone to hitch up and he will be ready to start in a few minutes."
In five minutes it seemed as if the whole town knew about it and were out in front of our house, or else climbing the hill to see the smoke. Mr. Wilson came on a run and was in the wagon before Pa could stop the horse.
"I want one of you boys to go with us," said Pa. "We may need some more signaling. Benny Wade, you are the lightest. Can you stand the climb?"
"Can I?" said he. "You watch me."
The marshal chased up with a light stretcher and another lantern.
"You can't have too many," he said. "It will be dark before you get up there."
Ma came running out with a basket of bread and butter and some meat.
"We'll light a big fire on the mountain, if all is well," they told her.
"The water!" called Skinny. "Pedro, get them a big bottle."
In another minute they were off, while the others went home to wait, which is the hardest part.
I found out afterward what happened. They couldn't drive all the way up Greylock from our side. There was a road from North Adams and another from Cheshire but those were too far.
Pa planned to drive as far as they could and then to leave the horse tied and walk up the rest of the way. They went around the road by the Quaker Meeting House to Peck's Falls. From there a road goes part way up the mountain, steep and winding. It was hard pulling for the horse.
I don't believe Greylock ever was climbed so fast before, although it seemed slow enough to poor Bill waiting on top, thirsty and faint. He knew that his signal had been seen and that was something.
The first thing that he heard was a call of a crow, over to the south and far down the mountainside.
"Caw, caw, caw," came the sound, and it seemed to be Benny's voice.
Bill stood up on one foot and listened.
"Caw, caw, caw," it came again, this time nearer.
Then Bill braced himself and seemed to grow stronger, all in a minute.
"Caw," he yelled. "Caw, caw!"
The sound went floating down into the gathering darkness, until it reached two men and a boy, toiling up the mountainside.
"That's Bill!" cried Benny.
"Thank God!" said Mr. Wilson. "He's alive. We know that."
Twenty minutes later he had Bill in his arms and Benny was building the biggest fire that had been seen on Greylock since I could remember. We were watching for it down below and knew that everything was all right.
"Now," said Pa, "let's have some supper. I don't know about William, but I feel hungry."
It was late at night when they finally brought Bill home. Mrs. Wilson nearly had a fit againwhen she saw them carrying him into the yard on a stretcher.
"Speak to her, son," said his father, "so that she will know you are alive."
Bill propped himself up on one elbow and gave such a yell that it scared the neighbors, and ended with a caw. Then she knew that it was all right and felt better.
Skinny was the proudest fellow you ever saw because we had found Bill. It made him real chesty and we all felt good about it.
"Say, we're the stuff," said he. "If you don't believe it, watch our smoke. That's all I've got to say. Hurry up and get well, Bill, so we can have a meeting and tell about our hikes. I want to see a First Class Scout badge on my manly bosom."
We were sitting in Bill's house at the time, to cheer him up a little because he couldn't go out without a crutch.
"What's the matter with having the meeting here?" said Bill. "I don't suppose Mr. Norton will give me a badge because I haven't delivered his message yet, but I'd like to hear what the restof you did. I can't get out for a few days. When I do, I'm going to North Adams and back, if it takes a whole leg. Believe me."
"You did more than any of us," Benny told him, "badge or no badge."
"I guess you won't chase over the mountain the next time," I said. "When you stick to the roads there don't anything happen."
"Oh, there don't, don't they?" exclaimed Skinny. "Say, you fellers ought to have been with me. There was something doing every minute. Ma says it's a wonder that I'm alive. I've had awfully hard work to keep from telling about it."
"Tell us about it now."
"Not much, you wouldn't be able to sleep to-night. Besides, it might make Bill's ankle worse."
"Great snakes!" said Bill. "There ain't anything the matter with me, only it hurts me to step on my foot. Come on, Skinny. Let's have it."
"No-p. We've got to have a meetin' first."
"Suppose that you have your meeting here to-night," said Mrs. Wilson, who had come into the room in time to hear what we were talking about."Willie is a great deal better and I can have him take a nap to brace him for the story. If you boys will come around after supper you can meet right in this room, and perhaps, I don't say for sure, perhaps the neighbors will bring in some ice cream to quiet your nerves and make you sleep."
"May we bring Mr. Norton?" I asked. "He is our Scoutmaster and he ought to be with us when we tell about the doings of the patrol."
"Surely you can. He is coming, anyway. He sent word this morning that he would call to-night."
We met at Skinny's a little before eight o'clock and went over in a bunch. On the way Skinny told us what to do.
"When we get to the gate," said he, "let's stop and each one caw three times."
"What for?" I asked. "We know that he is there; don't we? Besides Bill is sick. Maybe we'd better keep quiet."
"Sick nothin'! He ain't any more sick than I am. He said so himself. He's hurt his ankle a little, that's all. Ankles can't hear, can they?"
"Maybe it will cheer him up to hear us," I told him. "He can't get out, you know. It is hard to be cooped up in the house that way, and Fourth of July coming."
"Anyhow," said Benny, "let's not all caw at once. We can take turns and it will not make so much noise."
That was what we did, standing just outside the gate, where we could see a light streaming through an open window in Bill's room.
Skinny led off with three. I followed, and the others in turn, ending with Benny. Skinny said that it sounded like the booming of minute guns in some battle or other, that he read about in a book.
Say, it surprised the folks living around there. Before we were half through, they came running out of their houses to see what was going on. It made us feel proud and we were just going to do it over again, when we heard Bill cawing in the house and Mrs. Wilson threw the door open and stood there laughing.
"I judge by the sound," said she, "that the Ravens have arrived and are in good voice."
We found Bill sitting in a big chair, with his foot propped up and his eyes shining.
At first we didn't know just how to act, until in a few minutes Mr. Norton came and then Mrs. Wilson brought in some ice cream and some clusters of strawberries, with dishes of powdered sugar to dip them into.
We knew how to act then, all right, and for a few minutes we were too busy to talk.
I am not going to tell what all the Scouts did on that hike. I already have told what happened to some of us. There didn't much happen to most of them, anyhow, any more than there did to me. It was different with Skinny. Something almost always happened to him.
A MAIDEN IN DISTRESS
"FELLERS," Skinny had told us, when we were getting ready to start on the hike, "you always ought to carry a rope. Something happens every time when you don't have a rope along."
"It happens when you do," Benny said. "Anyhow, a rope is too much bother. A blanket and a frying pan and things like that are all I want to carry."
"A rope is the thing, just the same. Didn't I lasso the robber last summer out on Illinois River, at Starved Rock? How could I lasso anything without a rope? And didn't we let you down into Horseshoe Canyon with a rope and pull Alice What's-her-name up again?"
"Bet your life we did," Bill put in. "You need a rope when you are camping out or are in a boaton the river, but what good is it in walking seven miles?"
"Maybe it is and maybe it isn't; but, just the same, you'll be sorry if you don't take one along."
He was right, too, for Bill told us afterward that he would have given a good deal for a rope when he was sitting on top of Greylock. He didn't need it for anything, only, he said, it would have been sort of company for him.
Skinny was bound to carry a rope. When he marched down Center Street with it coiled around his shoulders, over his blanket, and with his tomahawk in his belt, people ran out of the stores to look at him.
The road that he took is uphill a good part of the way. It goes up through the foothills of the east mountain and isn't easy walking. We slide down that road sometimes in winter. When the coasting is good we can slide nearly a mile, clear into the village; then hitch on to a bob and ride back again for another.
There were no bobs for Skinny. It was warm in the sun and he loafed along, taking it easy andlooking for somebody to rescue. Once he stopped to help a man in a field. Along about ten or eleven o'clock he began to get hungry and tired. No matter where he looked there didn't anything happen, so he made up his mind to take a long rest the next time he came to some good shade, and maybe to cook his dinner.
A half-mile farther on he came to a real shady spot by the roadside, under a tree which stood in a corner of a pasture on the other side of a fence. A tiny stream crossed the road, and ran down through the pasture.
This was the place he had been looking for and, after drinking, he threw himself down on the ground and went to sleep.
He didn't know how long he slept but he felt first rate when he woke up, only hungrier than ever. Over in the pasture stood a cow with her back to him, looking at something and growing real excited about it.
"I wonder what ails the critter," said Skinny to himself. "She looks mad about something, snorting and shaking her head that way."
Just then he heard a girl's voice singing. She sang real loud, like boys whistle sometimes to keep up their courage, when they are half scared. Then in a few minutes she came in sight, walking across the pasture and keeping one eye on the cow.
Skinny hadn't seen her before because the cow had stood in the way.
"Jerusalem!" said he. "Here's luck. She's got a fire-red sunbonnet and cows don't like red sunbonnets a little bit."
On came the girl, singing louder than ever, trying to edge off away from the cow but not daring to run.
Skinny could see that the cow was getting madder all the time. He knew that something was going to happen at last, and he began to uncoil his rope.
"Run, you little fool," said he. "Run."
He meant the girl and not the cow. He said it under his breath so she wouldn't hear, for he didn't want to lose the chance to do the rescue act and have something to tell us boys about afterward.
The girl was scared. Any one with half an eyecould have seen that. The cow hadn't quite made up its mind what to do, and Skinny was beginning to be afraid that the girl would get across without giving him a chance to get in his work. Then what did she do but take off her sunbonnet and swing it around by one string, just to let the cow know that she wasn't afraid of any animal that walked on four legs.
She hadn't seen Skinny yet, on account of his being back of the cow. The cow didn't know he was there, either, until about four seconds afterward. It knew then, all right.
Maybe the cow wasn't mad when she saw that red sunbonnet whirling around in the air. She tore up the sod with her horns, gave a big snort, and started, head down.
Say, it was Skinny's busy day about that time. Before the cow could get fairly going he had crawled under the fence and run up behind, whirling his lasso around his head. Then he gave a yell like a wild Indian and threw it.
I think the yell scared the girl worse than the cow did. Anyhow, between the cow and the Indianshe was scared stiff; just stood there paralyzed. And she didn't do any more singing.
If that lasso had caught there would have been a paralyzed cow all right. Skinny threw it in great shape. It went straight for her horns, but when he yelled she lifted her head suddenly. The loop struck against one of the horns, instead of going over it, and then fell off to the ground.
"Gee!" groaned Skinny. "Missed!"
There wasn't time to say anything more, and he knew that he would have to get mighty busy or there wouldn't be any rescuing done.
When something happens that way and you have to do something first and think about it afterward, the mind seems to work like chain lightning. There was only one thing to do and it didn't take Skinny long to do that. He dropped the rope, grabbed hold of the cow's tail with both hands, and dug his feet into the ground.
"Run!" he yelled. "Run for the fence! I've got her."
When Bill heard about it he said that it seemed to him as if the cow had Skinny. Anyhow, she wassurprised some and she was mad. She will think twice next time before she does any chasing, when anybody from Raven Patrol is around, I guess.
Skinny had a good hold and she couldn't get away. First she stopped running and tried to get at whatever it was back of her, with her horns, chasing herself around in a circle.
Skinny hung on like a good fellow. He had to. If he had let go once it would have been all up with him. She never touched him. Every time the cow stopped, there was a hundred pounds of boy hanging to the end of her tail.
It was like playing crack the whip, he told us afterward, "and being the littlest fellow on the tail end."
Then for a few moments it was hard to tell which was the cow and which was Skinny, for she started on a run for the other side of the pasture, Skinny sliding and bumping behind, and both of them scared half to death. Skinny was so excited he couldn't think to let go of the tail.
Hank said that he would have given a quarterif he could have taken a picture of it with his camera.
All this didn't take so long as it does to tell about it. The girl had reached the fence, crawled under, and was yelling for help.
Just then it seemed to Skinny as if the tail had come off in his hands, for he went tumbling along, heels over head, until he struck with a jar that almost loosened his teeth.
What really happened was that he stumbled on a stone and his hands were jerked loose. In another minute the cow was out of sight in a hollow. Skinny scrambled to his feet and went back after the rope, trying not to limp because he could see the girl looking at him through the fence.
He felt pretty chesty to think that he had rescued a maiden, only he didn't know what to do with her, now that he had saved her.
She spoke first, as he stood there sort of brushing his clothes off.
"Are you hurt, boy?"
"What, me?" said Skinny. "Me hurt? Say, didn't you see the critter run when I got after her?"
"I should say I did, only I was scared. Wasn't you scared?"
"I don't scare worth a cent," he told her. "I ain't afraid of any cow a-livin'. You don't suppose I'd 'a' chased her all over the pasture, if I'd been scared, do you?"
"N-no, but——"
"Say, if my lasso hadn't slipped, there would have been something doing. It's lucky for you that I got hold of her tail. That's the way to do it. When you twist a cow's tail, it scares 'em."
It's just as Hank says, you never can tell what a girl will do. That girl tried to say something; then choked up and went off into a fit of laughing that made the tears roll down her cheeks and left her so weak that she had to hang on to the fence.
Skinny grinned a little to be polite, but he didn't like it very well.
"Oh," said she, as soon as she could speak, "it was too—too funny for anything to see you sailing along behind the cow."
"It wouldn't have been so funny if the cow had been running toward you, instead of away fromyou. You would have laughed out of the other side of your mouth, I guess."
She saw that he was mad about it.
"You mustn't mind my laughing," said she, stuffing her handkerchief into her mouth. "I can't help it. It's a disease."
"A disease?"
"Yes, it's high strikes. When folks have them they can't stop laughing. They laugh when they ought to cry, maybe."
"Sounds like a ball game," said Skinny.
"It's something like that," she told him. "Maybe that isn't it exactly but it's something. I'm better now."
"Oh, well, if it's something that ails you, I suppose it's all right. I'd laugh, too, only I am all out of breath from chasing the cow."
When he said that the girl burst out laughing again, and Skinny laughed with her. That made them feel acquainted.
"I guess I've got 'em, too," said he. "They must be catching. Well, I must be going now."
"My name is Mary Richmond," she told him, "I live in Holyoke and I am visiting over where you see that red barn."
"Mine is Gabriel Miller. I don't like the name very well. Gabe isn't so bad. The boys call me Skinny. I live down in the village and I am on a hike. I guess I'd better be going now."
"I don't see any."
"Any what?"
"What you said you were on, a hike."
"You will see one in about a minute. I am out for a long walk. I belong to the Boy Scouts and I've got to walk seven miles, camp out to-night, and come back to-morrow."
"My," said she, "you must be hungry—all that walking and—and—chasing the cow, too."
"I am," said Skinny, bracing up. "I believe I'll eat my lunch right here in the shade. Wish you'd stay and eat with me. I can cook some bacon."
Wasn't that a nervy thing to say? Skinny is brave when he gets started.
"It would be fine," she told him, "only Ma is expecting me at the house. She is visiting, too. Wouldn't it be nicer for you to come with me?They will be glad to see you because you saved me from the cow. I am awfully hungry and Grandma is the best cook. We're going to have lemonade. She told me so. Come on, do."
"Lemonade would taste good," he said, "if I only dast."
"Huh!" said she, tossing her head. "I thought that you were not afraid of anything."
"I ain't of a cow. This is different. Say, that was a swell song you were singing. I wish I knew it."
"I'll teach it to you after dinner, if you will come. If you don't you're a 'fraid cat."
"All right. I'll go if it kills me."
Skinny says that he never ate a dinner that tasted any better than that one did. Mrs. Richmond was scared when she heard about the cow and she couldn't say enough about how he had saved her little girl from a terrible death.
"That wasn't anything," he told her. "Scouts are always doing those things. I'm going to try to save somebody from drowning when I come back along the river to-morrow."
"I'll tell you a better stunt than that," said Mary's grandfather, winking one eye at the rest of the folks. "Why don't you go up to Savoy on the east mountain. That would make a walk of about seven miles from the village. You won't find anybody drowning up there, but several deer have been seen around there lately."
"Gee!" said Skinny, his eyes sticking out when he thought of the deer. "If I only had a gun!"
"It's against Massachusetts law to shoot deer. That's why they are getting so common. You have your rope. Maybe you can lasso one. There is no law against that, I guess."
"I'll do it," Skinny told him. "Bet your life the boys will be surprised when they see me bringing home a deer. Maybe I'll get two or three. Mr. Norton didn't give me a message to anybody, so it won't make any difference which way I go."
"Don't get too many. We'd like to save a few. And be careful that some bear doesn't get you," went on Mr. Richmond, laughing to see how excited Skinny was. "They are not very common, butonce in a while one is seen on the mountain."
"How do you get up there?"
"Go back to Pumpkin Hook. It isn't far, and then follow the road which turns east. It will take you right to Savoy. You will find a pretty good road all the way, and you won't have any more trouble than you would going to Cheshire—unless," he added in a fierce voice that made Skinny jump, "unless A BEAR GETS YOU!"
"Now, father, don't scare the boy to death," said Mary's mother. "You know well enough there are no bears and the road to Savoy is a well-traveled one."
"Of course it is, or I shouldn't have suggested his going there. But there have been bears seen on the Savoy Mountain. I saw one myself, last year."
"Huh! I ain't afraid of no bear," put in Skinny, drawing himself up and looking fierce. "I tracked one once on Bob's Hill. It went up to Peck's Falls and hid in our cave. We smoked it out. I didn't have a gun or knife or anything, but I hit it with a snowball."
You could have hung a hat on Mary's eyes when Skinny told them that.
"Was it a really and truly bear?" she asked. "And did it stand on its hind legs like in the circus pictures over at the Hook?"
"It stood on its hind legs, all right," he told her, "but it wasn't really a bear. We thought it was. It made tracks in the snow just like bear's tracks, but when we had smoked it out we found that it wasn't anything but a man."
"It was Jake Yost, a foolish feller," he explained, turning to Mr. Richmond. "He had his boots on the wrong feet and wouldn't change them back for fear of changing his luck. That was what made his tracks look like bear's tracks."
It tickled them to hear about that, but it didn't tickle us boys much when it happened. It was too scary.
"If you will stop here on your way back to-morrow," said Mary's grandma, "we'll give you a nice dinner. I think you will be wanting one about that time. Mary may walk with you as far as the Hook, if you like, and show you the road."
"I think maybe I'd better go along, too, with my gun," said Mr. Richmond, "on account of the bears."
"Don't you mind his nonsense," she said. "You run along."
So off they went together, Skinny with his rope and tomahawk and Mary with her red sunbonnet, but they kept away from the pasture.
From Pumpkin Hook Skinny went on alone, up the mountain road, whirling his tomahawk around his head and every little while pretending to lasso the enemy, because he knew that Mary was watching him from below.
Then pretty soon he came to a bend in the road. He turned and waved to her, and in a minute was out of sight.
TREED BY A BEAR
I AM writing what happened to Skinny as if we found out all about it at once, which we didn't. He told us some of it the first time, with Bill sitting up and listening and Mr. Norton asking questions whenever Skinny began to run down. But every time we saw him after that for several days he would think of something more to tell, or something a little different, so that it took a long time before we felt sure that we knew all about it.
For instance, he didn't say much at first about Mary Richmond, the Holyoke girl, except the rescue part. He was afraid that the boys would make fun of him for walking down the mountain with a girl—but I haven't told about that yet. I am going to put everything in just when it happened, so that you can understand it better.
There didn't much happen, anyhow, while hewas going up to Savoy. The road was steep and winding, and climbing it kept Skinny busy and made him wish more than once that he had gone in some other direction.
What Mr. Richmond had said about bears made him nervous. Every time he saw a stump of a tree, he was sure it was a bear, and every time he came to a part of the woods where the trees stood very close together and it looked dark inside, he had to whistle and sing louder than Mary did when she was afraid of the cow.
Whenever he felt real scared he would caw like a crow, and that made him feel almost brave again, for sometimes when you just pretend you are brave and act as if you are, all of a sudden you get brave. I don't know why it is but I have noticed it.
He kept a sharp eye out for deer, for he wanted to bring us one, but he didn't see a thing all the way up that looked like a wild animal except a calf, which ran when he threw a stick at it, and the birds, which don't count.
It was hot work but the air was fine, and he could see all up and down Hoosac Valley, and thatis worth seeing any time. If he had taken a spy-glass with him, perhaps he could have seen the other Scouts on the way to North Adams and Cheshire.
Once in a while he came to a mountain brook, gurgling and singing over the stones. Then he would throw himself down to rest and listen to the pouring water, which we boys think is the sweetest music in all the world, unless it is the cawing of a crow away off somewhere, on the mountainside.
Late in the afternoon he came to Savoy and stopped in a field to cook himself a good supper.
That night he slept in a barn, cuddling down in the haymow, where he could hear some horses stirring in their stalls. They seemed sort of like company for him, although they couldn't talk any.
"Were you not afraid up there, all alone?" Mr. Norton asked, when Skinny was telling about the horses.
"What, me?" said he. "Anyhow, I wouldn't have been, only there were all kinds of noises inthe night and once I heard something scratching at the door. I think it was a bear; maybe, two bears."
"Great snakes!" said Bill, and we all thought so, too. But Skinny waved one hand, as if that wasn't anything worth mentioning, and went on.
When morning finally came and the sun shone in through a cobwebby window across the haymow he slipped out of the barn on the side away from the house, so that the folks wouldn't see him.
Just the same, they saw him cooking his breakfast, and were going to set the dog on him. But when the farmer's wife found out that it was a Boy Scout and not a tramp she told him to come right into the house and eat with them. He went, too, because he could smell the breakfast cooking and it 'most made him crazy.
"How about it, Mr. Norton?" said Bill. "That makes two meals Skinny had given to him, not counting the dinner at Richmond's the next day, which he hasn't told about yet. That makes three. Didn't he have to cook them himself on account of the Scout business?"
Before Mr. Norton could answer Skinny spoke up.
"Aw, g'wan!" said he. "I cooked enough to make up for it, I guess. Why, I stopped two or three times and cooked something. You don't suppose a feller can climb mountains without eatin', do you?"
"I didn't eat much," said Bill with a grin, "but I wanted to."
"I think Gabriel is right," laughed Mr. Norton. "Besides it sometimes is harder to work folks for a meal than it is to cook it, yourself."
"Anyhow," Skinny told him, "I didn't get to Richmond's in time for that dinner and I paid for those other meals. I rescued the girl the first time, didn't I? That ought to be good for a dinner. And to pay for my breakfast I carried in a lot of wood for the farmer's wife. She liked it so well that she said she would be glad to have me stay to dinner. There wasn't any chance to do any rescuing in Savoy, so I had to do something else."
"That's business!" exclaimed Mr. Norton."Pay as you go. Gabriel, my boy, you showed yourself a true Scout and I'm proud of you."
He reached over and fastened a First Class Scout badge to Skinny's coat.
"Maybe I am a little ahead of the game," said he, "but Gabriel is leader and I think that he has earned a badge. This seems to be the psychological moment to present it."
Benny spoke up before we could stop him.
"What's a skological moment?" said he.
Say, that stumped Mr. Norton. He couldn't tell us.
"I'd like very much to give you one, William," he went on, after a little, turning to Bill. "You showed yourself a hero and you have done everything except the hike. How would it do to give you the badge now, with the understanding that you will make good on the hike later, when you get well?"
Skinny swelled all up when Mr. Norton gave him the badge, and I guess anybody would. He didn't know what to do or say at first, but in a minute he came to his senses. He jumped to hisfeet and gave the Scout salute. It was great to see him.
"Fellers," said he, turning to us with his arms folded, while Mr. Norton looked on, wondering what was going to happen.
"Who are going to be the best Boy Scouts in America, or England, either?"
"We are!" we shouted.
"Who is the best Scoutmaster that ever happened?"
"Mr. Norton!" we yelled.
"Who is great stuff, if he did sprain his ankle on Greylock?"
"Bill Wilson!"
"'Tis well. Everybody caw. Now!"
There was some racket around that room when we turned ourselves loose. Bill sat there smiling and with his face all flushed up, he was so tickled over what Mr. Norton and Skinny had said.
Then Mr. Norton pulled another badge out of his pocket and started to pin it on Bill's clothes. Bill stopped him.
"It wouldn't be fair, Mr. Norton," said he. "Istarted out to do my hike and I didn't do it. I know that I did something which was harder but I didn't do that. I wouldn't feel right about wearing the badge until after I had made good."
"What do you say, boys?" asked Mr. Norton, his eyes shining because he was so proud of Bill.
"Bill's all right," said Hank. "We all know that he can do the stunt and that he will do it, but he hasn't done it yet."
Then Benny spoke up.
"Guess what!" said he. "Let's all wait until Bill gets well and does it, before getting our badges. Except Skinny; he's got his."
"Bet your life I'll wait, too," said Skinny.
He started to take the badge off, but we wouldn't let him.
"Forget it," said Bill, "and go on with the story. You stopped in an interesting place. I don't believe much happened, anyhow, except the cow, and you've told us about that."
"I don't like to tell the rest. It will make you walk in your sleep and that will hurt your foot. But I'm willing to risk it if you are."
You see, when Skinny started toward home from Savoy, he made up his mind that he would lasso a deer, or know the reason why, because it would look fine to have one stuffed and standing in front of our cave at Peck's Falls. So, when he had found a place that looked wild and sort of scary, he left the road and, getting his rope in shape to throw, made his way in through the brush, as still as he could, so as not to frighten the deer away.
He didn't see any deer, but after a while he found a big patch of wild strawberries, so thick he couldn't step without tramping on some. That made him forget all about his deer for 'most an hour.
Then, all of a sudden, he heard a crackling in the bushes on the other side of a clearing, and he felt sure that his chance had come.
Skinny dropped on his hands and knees and crawled toward the sound. It was slow work because he had to be careful not to make any noise, and he grew more excited every moment.
At last he was crouching down behind some bigbushes, and on the other side he could hear the deer real plain, tramping around like a horse.
"Gee!" thought he. "It's a big one and will look great up by our cave."
He didn't say it out loud because he knew that although the deer could not smell him on account of the wind blowing the other way, he would hear him, unless he was very careful.
Then, getting the rope ready to throw, with the slip noose working easily, he parted the bushes gently and crept through.
There was a great crashing as some big animal broke his way through the bushes in front of him. Then came a snarl and a growl that made Skinny's heart almost stop beating. And there he stood, paralyzed, looking straight into the eyes of a bear!
It wasn't any Jake Yost with his boots on wrong, either. It was the real thing, looking as big as the Quaker Meeting House to Skinny, although it was really only a cub, about half grown.
I guess the bear wasn't expecting anybody to call, for he stood there, sort of paralyzed himself,his eyes looking right into Skinny's and one big paw raised to take another step.
Skinny gave a howl and started for the nearest tree, one that was too small for a bear to climb.
Say, if tree climbing had been one of the Scout stunts, Skinny would have won two badges.
It isn't any fun to sit in a tree on a mountain, with a real live bear sniffing around at the bottom and you both getting hungrier every minute.
Skinny knew he was safe as long as he stayed in the tree, but he didn't dare get down while the bear was in sight, and the cub wouldn't go away more than a few rods. I guess Skinny looked good to him, he was so fat.
Dinner time came and went. He was still in the tree and the bear was still fooling around below.
Skinny called for help until he was hoarse, but there wasn't anybody passing at that time of day. Then he began to get mad, and when Skinny gets mad, look out!
"You think you're smart," said he, "but old Long Knife will show you a thing or two."
First he let down his rope and found that itwould reach the ground. Then he fixed the noose up in good shape, tied the other end around a limb and waited.
By and by the bear came smelling around that rope to see what it was, and that was exactly what Skinny had been waiting for. He leaned down and tried to swing the noose over the cub's head. The bear didn't know what to make of it and every time the rope would hit his nose he would growl and strike it away with his paw.
Skinny saw that he would have to get closer. He climbed down to a lower limb; then held on with one hand, swung out over the bear, and tried to lasso him with the other.
He almost did it, too, but just as he leaned still farther down, all of a sudden there was a cracking noise and the limb broke.
With an awful scream of despair, Skinny fell.