“Just what it did!” declared Mark Trowbridge, who often lisped when he talked, an infirmity that was likely to follow him through life; “why, I thaw with my own eyeth two barrelth of bottleth half covered with a blanket, that had been carried from the cobbler’th thop.”
“Worse than that, even,” asserted Arthur Cameron in disgust. “I saw a man deliberately lift the cover, take out a bottle, and drain it there, with a dozen people standing around and laughing. Shows you how some of our laws are being made a joke. The police are aware of what’s going on, too; but they believe the sentiment of the town has heretofore been against enforcing certain statutes.”
“Well, they’re going to get a rude shock pretty soon, believe me,” said Billy. “Half an hour ago the mayor and Council sent for Chief Andy Wallis. He’s in there with them now, listening to the law being laid down. I reckon the Chief knows by this time that it’s going to be a clean town or we get a new head of police. The women have taken things in hand, and mean to purify the atmosphere, so that Oakvale boys and girls can breathe without being contaminated.”
“How fast the news spread all over town this morning,” observed Walter Osborne, the leader of the Hawk Patrol, a fine, manly looking fellow well liked by all his associates of the troop. “Why, my mother says they were talking of it in every store she visited, and father added that he was buttonholed half a dozen times by men who seemed chock full of the subject.”
“Old Doc Kane,” added Sam Winter, “carried the news wherever he went. He said it was going to be next door to a millennium for Oakvale, and that when the movement had exhausted its force he expected to have his business reduced one-half, because of the improved sanitary conditions that would prevail. That was one of the Doc’s little jokes.”
“He’s loaded to the muzzle with ammunition meant to boost the good cause along,” asserted another scout. “It’s among the mill people the good doctor does most of his missionary work. He knows how much a clean town means to fellows who haven’t comfortable homes to spend evenings in.”
“Of course, there’s no danger that the members of the town Council will try to dodge the question again, as they’ve done so many times?” Jack Durham was saying.
Billy gave a scoffing laugh.
“Not much they will!” he ejaculated; “with that wide-awake Mrs. Marsh present, backed by a lady who can strike out from the shoulder like Mrs. Beverly.”
“Besides,” added Walter, “don’t forget what Hugh told us about the sudden change of front on the part of Mayor Strunk. He saw a great light when he learned how his favorite little granddaughter had come near being run over by a team at that dangerous crossing of the three roads in town.”
“Then there’s another thing that’s bound to cut some figure in the decision of the town Council to-night,” said Billy. “Public sentiment has been aroused, and is at white heat. It seems as if everything combined to happen all at once, for this very afternoon old Mr. Merkle was knocked down by a speeding car that got away without anybody learning its number. He was badly hurt, and they took him to the hospital; but we’ve been told that the brave old chap, nearly eighty-five years of age, has sent a message of cheer to the ladies from his bed, telling them that he glories in being a martyr to the good cause.”
“Every fellow take off his hat to old Mr. Merkle, for he’s made of the stuff our Revolutionary fathers had in them when this country dared defy Great Britain,” and as Walter Osborne said this, each scout raised his campaign hat with a touch of respect for the grand old hero lying on his bed of pain, yet able to think of the reform movement that was sweeping through the town.
“Here comes Hugh now!” called out a fellow on the outskirts of the group.
“And he looks as if he felt satisfied with the way things were going,” another hastened to say.
The young assistant scout master quickly joined them. He was besieged by numerous questions. Indeed, so thick and fast did these come that Hugh laughed and threw up his hands, as though to shield himself from a fall of hailstones.
“Hold up, fellows,” he told them; “what do you take me for? When you send them at me like that it makes me feel as the street urchin did who crawled into an empty sugar hogshead, and, seeing the riches around him, wished for a thousand tongues. Give me a fair chance and I’ll tell what little I’ve been able to pick up.”
Accordingly they quieted down, though still pressing around Hugh, and hanging on his every word. Confidence in their leader is one of the highest attributes of praise scouts can show; and the members of Oakvale Troop felt this to the limit in the boy who had been elected to serve them in that capacity. So often had Hugh Hardin proved his ability to fill his exalted position that no one ever dreamed nowadays of contesting the leadership with him.
“I managed to interview Zack Huffman,” explained Hugh, “who had been inside, but had to go home to his family because his wife is sick. He could stop only a minute or so to talk, but he told me the sentiment was overwhelmingly in favor of carrying out the whole sweeping programme. The ladies have got in the saddle, so he said, and mean to ride at the head of the procession. You remember Zack is something of a scholar, and you ought to have heard him tell how they expect to beat the record of Hercules in cleaning the Augean stables.”
“Hurrah for Zack!” cried one enthusiastic scout, for the boys were by this time so roused up over matters that they felt in the mood to cheer anybody and anything that favored their cause.
“Every now and then,” continued Hugh, “I could hear applause from above there. I’ve got an idea Mrs. Beverly was talking. If she was, you can wager not a single member of the Council will dare vote against the mayor’s programme after it’s been announced. It’s going to be carried with a whirl.”
“If it is, we ought to burn a few barrels to celebrate to-night!” suggested Sam Winter, for such a programme always pleased him immensely.
“Hold on,” Hugh instantly told him. “We want none of that sort of thing to-night. For once let’s show that boys can be dignified. This is no Fourth of July affair. Some of the church people have even contemplated holding prayer meetings after the Council adjourns, if everything seems favorable, for their hearts are right in this uplift movement. It wouldn’t seem just the right thing for scouts to be seen running like wild Indians all over town, and shouting their lungs out. We’ll just go home in a quiet way, and get ready to commence business on Monday. Time enough for a jubilee when the ladies appoint a day for celebrating the victory. Just now we’ve got work, and plenty of it, ahead of us.”
“Hugh, you’re right!” asserted Arthur Cameron.
“Forget that I said it, Hugh!” begged the impulsive Sam, abashed by the argument advanced by the scout master, because his better sense told him that was the proper way of looking at it.
“Hey, there comes Chief Wallis out of the Council chamber!” called a voice, and immediately every fellow turned his eyes in that direction, anxious to decide for himself what the appearance of the head of the police force would indicate.
Chief Wallis walked straight toward them. His face was inscrutable, but as he reached the group of scouts, with Hugh at their head, he thrilled the boys by raising a hand in salute.
“Come in and see me on Monday, Hugh,” the Chief said, dramatically, “and we’ll fix it up about what sort of badge you and your fellow Assistant Police can wear. The women have carried the day, and Oakvale is going to be purged,” and as he strode on the boys broke into a series of stirring cheers.
CHAPTER V.
OAKVALE’S GREAT CLEAN-UP DAY.
According to the universal agreement, every pastor in Oakvale made some mention in his sermon on the following Sunday of the new movement that had been inaugurated by the better elements in the town. They urged every one of their flocks who wanted to see a cleaner Oakvale, morally and actually, to back up the committee.
It was the talk of the day wherever two or more persons came together, and there were places where the action of the town Council was either severely criticized or else condemned. No one need be told that as a rule these were the dens of vice that had been insulting the law and flaunting their brazen defiance in the teeth of the citizens.
Everybody seemed to be waiting with pent-up breath to see whether things would begin to move immediately Monday opened up.
By noon on Monday posters began to appear all over town, signed by the mayor, stating in concise, legal phrases how from that hour forward the law was going to be strictly enforced to the letter, and telling all about the plan to enlist the active co-operation of the Boy Scouts in helping to make a clean town.
After school that afternoon the fellows belonging to Oakvale Troop to the number of thirty marched to police headquarters. That three of the boys did not respond to roll call before marching through the streets, Hugh ascertained, was because in two instances they were sick at home with a mild attack of grippe, while the third boy was evidently kept away because he had an uncle who was believed to be the worst offender on the list, so that his folks were hardly in favor of appearing to go against their own flesh and blood.
But the boys, as they marched the full length of the main street, were cheered by shoppers and shopkeepers and clerks, as well as others who crowded to the doors and windows. For it was well known what part Hugh and his fellow scouts were going to take in the redemption of Oakvale. Their previous success in ridding the town of cluttering rubbish gave people confidence in their ability to do even greater things.
The Chief had his men lined up in front of the headquarters. He believed in doing things according to rule, and meant to receive the scouts as fellow workers in the good cause.
To hear the speech Chief Wallis made the new Assistant Police any one would have believed his heart had always been in the laudable enterprise of trying to clean up the dives, and protect the dangerous crossings. Perhaps it had, but the Chief being a politician dared not show his hand so long as he felt that public sentiment was against any change of policy. He knew better now. He had heard the ringing words that fell from Mrs. Beverly’s lips, which speech, according to all accounts, eclipsed any oration ever delivered in the town hall; the Chief was fully enlisted in the cause.
“We will have official badges made without delay for each and every member of the Assistant Police,” he told the listening boys, who interrupted his speech with frequent cheers. “In the meanwhile, as the posters issued by His Honor the Mayor state, your regular scout emblem will be badge enough, and must be respected everywhere within the limits of this town. Possibly some people will at first be inclined to treat your show of authority as a joke, and laugh at any orders you may issue. After a few of them have been arrested by my regular officers, and either fined or placed in jail for some days, they will have their eyes opened.”
Then the Chief went on to explain just what their line of work would consist of, and where they must draw the line. Certain duties they could proceed to carry out, but the regular officers would be used to make most arrests, especially where there was any danger involved.
“You understand,” he told them, “it is not intended that the boys operating with this movement are going to become spies, to find out what their neighbors may be doing, but we expect you to keep your eyes open to discover any glaring infraction of the laws, as mentioned in that poster, and your leader will thereupon report any such discovery at headquarters, from where it will be attended to.”
He then earnestly besought them to be on their dignity, and guard against any unnecessary show of being conceited, or too proud of their new positions.
“Go about your work without any display of authority. People will begin by sneering at you, but if you do your duty faithfully they will soon come to respect your badge. Never forget that the best people of the community are behind you in all you may attempt. Hugh, we look to you to be a safe guide for your followers, and the mayor told me to inform you that he expects every scout to do his part manfully. That’s about all I have to say to you to-day, though from time to time I expect to confer with your leader, and lay out new plans. I salute you all again as members in full standing of the Police Force of Oakvale.”
Hugh had his plans pretty well laid out, though everything could not be accomplished at once. He had selected certain members of the troop for duty at the dangerous crossings, beginning on the very next morning. In doing this, Hugh had used much discretion, for he expected that there would be more or less trouble, since drivers and chauffeurs had become so accustomed to having their own way that they would object strenuously to any interference.
It turned out, however, that Chief Wallis foresaw this very source of trouble, and had delegated several officers to stand near by in readiness to arrest the first driver who failed to pull up when a scout raised his white-gloved hand as an order for him to do so.
That was a pretty warm day in sections at police headquarters. Arrests came in quick succession, as though a regular scheme had been arranged to make the new order a laughing-stock. But the mayor had a magistrate ready, and those who were brought in charged with breaking the traffic rules, as well as in some cases resisting an officer had heavy fines imposed upon them, with the alternative of several days in the lockup if they refused to settle.
It was astonishing how quickly the news went around that the mayor actually meant to stand by the ladies and the scouts in the crusade. For the first time that evening in many moons, every questionable and shady resort about Oakvale was closed as tight as a drum, as Billy Worth explained it, after a walk about town.
“Why,” he told Hugh, with glistening eyes, “you can see the fellows who used to spend most of their time in those places standing on the street corners watching to see what next is going to happen. They look dazed and glum, I tell you; yes, and ugly, too, because their business is going to be all busted up. They’re telling each other that the way things are starting in it looks like more than just a joke.”
“‘A new broom sweeps clean!’” quoted Hugh. “I never doubted but what once the people of this town woke up it could be done, and in a hurry. The only question is how long will it last? A whole lot of persons will soon get tired of the novelty, and public sentiment may swing around to indifference again. That is what we have to fear more than anything else. Those bad men will just wait for things to take a change, and as scouts we’ve got to see to it that the enthusiasm never dies out.”
After an exciting day, Hugh felt pretty tired that Monday evening. He had received special reports from all the scouts who had been on duty. These covered a multitude of things from difficulties at the crossings when traffic was held up at such times as the smaller children were going to and from school, to infractions of the laws of cleanliness and health persisted in by certain citizens who ought to have known better.
Hugh carefully read every one of these reports, and they were numerous, for the boys had been extremely vigilant, as if to prove their right to be called Auxiliary Police. Hugh used his own discretion about keeping some of these reports. A few he smiled at, and made a mental note to warn the writer that it was not intended to enter into private property in order to spy around, but that the complaints must be of such things as offended the public eye or ear or nose; after which he tore these up.
The others he carefully filed with a good deal of satisfaction, to be later on submitted to Chief Wallis, after copies had been taken for the scout records. On the whole, Hugh believed the boys had made good that day, despite all the novelty of the thing, and the troubles they had met with. As time passed on and people came more and more to recognize them as a part of the regular system for carrying out the laws that were upon the books, much of this friction would die away, and the wheels of machinery could be expected to move more smoothly.
Hugh, feeling that he must not neglect his studies on account of this outside occupation, had just taken out his books, and was about to settle down to an hour or so of “grind,” when he heard the doorbell ring.
Then he caught a familiar voice asking if he were at home. It was Tom Sherwood, stationed that day at the most dangerous crossing in all Oakvale, and who Hugh understood, from all accounts, had acquitted himself splendidly.
The sound of Tom’s voice suddenly recalled to Hugh’s mind the fact that he had promised to help the other. It had been utterly impossible for Hugh to attempt anything along the lines he had suggested, concerning an interview with Benjy Sherwood, for his day had been crammed full of duties, great and small.
But when Tom burst into his room impetuously Hugh could see from his face that the other had more bad news to communicate.
CHAPTER VI.
THE PROMISE OF A SCOUT.
“Hello, Tom! Glad to have you drop around to see me!” was the friendly and cheery salute of the scout master, as he nodded to the newcomer.
Boys do not usually wait on ceremony when visiting, so Tom, without bothering to be asked to take a seat, dropped into an easy-chair.
Like most fellows of his age, Hugh had his room fitted up in as cozy a fashion as suited his fancy. There were the customary college flags decorating the walls, and some well-selected pictures that showed the bent of Hugh’s mind toward art, a small matter, perhaps, in the opinion of most people, but of moment with any one really desirous of knowing the nature of the boy who lives and sleeps inside those walls.
One thing Hugh had noticed particularly. This was the exceeding great care his guest took in making sure that he had properly closed the door after him when entering the room. As a rule, Tom was inclined to be more or less careless in this respect, being a breezy sort of a chap. Hugh guessed that there might be a reason for this unusual caution, and it so proved.
“Hugh, it’s getting worse all the time!” was the first remark the newcomer made, and in a low voice, at that, as if he did not by any chance want to be overheard by others in the adjoining room.
Hugh could easily guess what those depressing words meant. If he had entertained any sort of doubt, the sigh that followed would have dispelled them. Tom was in deeper trouble than ever, and that active younger brother of his, Benjy, was undoubtedly the cause.
“What’s Benjy been doing now, Tom?” he asked, in as soothing a voice as he could summon to his aid.
Tom scratched his head, as though a trifle puzzled to know just how to begin.
“To tell you the truth, Hugh, I don’t know what he is after, but he’s doing some mighty queer stunts. I never knew him to try to steal before.”
“Oh, come, that’s a pretty hard word to use, Tom!” remonstrated the scout master, trying to appear unbelieving, although he had felt a little chill on hearing Tom say what he did.
Poor Tom shook his head as if very downcast.
“You don’t know how much it knocks me to even suspect such a thing, Hugh,” he presently managed to say, and there was a plain tremor to his voice, usually so robust and strong. “In spite of his headstrong ways, Benjy has always been such a lovable fellow that—well, I’d go through fire and water for him if I could do him any good.”
“I’m sure you would,” ventured Hugh, consolingly, as the other boy stopped, to gulp several times, as though nearly choking with emotion.
“Ever since he started going with the set that trains with the newcomer in Oakvale, Park Norris,” commenced Tom, “Benjy seems to have changed ever so much, and all for the worse. It worries me heaps, and I don’t know how I’m to get him back again. He seems to listen, with a curl to his lip, whenever I speak about it, and I’m sure I try to act the big brother to him, with my arm about his shoulders.”
“Tell me what’s happened since I saw you last, Tom,” urged the scout master, desirous of getting at the “meat in the cocoanut” as quickly as possible, for he had an hour or so to put in at studying, and, besides, was pretty tired after a strenuous day.
“I will, Hugh. That was what brought me here to see you. When we talked matters over before, you promised to help me.”
“I repeat that promise, Tom. As the temporary head of the troop, I could do no less; and as your old chum I’d go far out of my way to give a helping hand to Tom Sherwood.”
The other heaved a sigh, and his eyes glistened with a sudden moisture.
“Thank you, Hugh,” he managed to say, half steadily. “I knew I could depend on you. I wanted to keep these things from our mother as long as I could. She doesn’t suspect anything like the truth, for I heard her say only the other day when Benjy had been rather irritable that she feared he must be unwell, and perhaps she ought to have Doctor Kane drop in to look him over.”
“There may be a little truth in that, Tom, don’t you know!” suggested Hugh, but the other boy shook his head ominously in the negative.
“I’d like to believe it, Hugh,” he said. “It would be only a matter of a dose of calomel or some other medicine that old Doc Kane likes to give, and my brother would be himself again. But there’s something more than that the matter. However, I said I’d start in and tell what happened, and so here goes, Hugh.”
“Please get to the facts as soon as you can, Tom,” requested the other.
“It happened this very afternoon,” began Tom. “I came home, and started up to my room to get something or other, when in the glass at the end of the hall I happened to see something move through the open door. You know, Hugh, I have a little room all my own at our house, and Benjy’s is at the other end of the hall. When I saw that it was my brother in my room I was surprised, for of late he hasn’t bothered dropping in to visit with me like he used to be so fond of doing.
“Well, to make a long story short, Hugh, something tempted me to move softly along the hall and look in past the partly open door. Hugh, would you believe me, I was shocked to see Benjy, whom I once believed the soul of honor, actually rummaging in my trunk.”
“Do you keep your trunk locked?” asked Hugh quickly.
“Not as a rule,” replied Tom, “unless I happen to have something in it I don’t want a servant to see, or some Christmas presents I’ve hid away. I guess it wasn’t locked to-day, in fact, I know it wasn’t.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” said the scout master, really relieved. “Younger brothers often think they have a right to rummage when the notion strikes them, I understand. Why should you think it so strange, Tom?”
“Perhaps I wouldn’t have felt so badly about it some time ago,” admitted Tom; “but so many suspicious things have happened, you see, to make me think Benjy is going along the fast road. There was his taking that money from his savings bank, and answering me so impudently when I asked him what he was spending it for, instead of waiting till the Fourth of July. Hugh, I keep my own savings bank lying in my trunk, along with a lot of other stuff!”
“Do you think he meant to open that, and extract some of the contents?” asked Hugh, feeling uncomfortably chilly at the thought.
“I’d hate to say what terrible thoughts chased through my brain when I saw him turning things upside down as though he couldn’t find what he was looking for,” the grieved Tom went on to remark.
“What did you do?” inquired Hugh.
“The first thing I thought of doing was to step right in and ask him what he meant by getting in my trunk while I was away. But somehow, Hugh, I just couldn’t bring myself to do that, so I slipped down to the head of the stairs, and then started to whistle, and make a noise with my feet, as if I might be coming up from the lower floor.”
“Yes,” said Hugh, greatly interested, as Tom paused to gulp again.
“When I stepped into my room, Benjy had managed to get the trunk closed, for I had heard the lid bang down. He was going around looking up at the walls in the most innocent way possible, and as soon as I came in he asked me if I would mind lending him my old tennis racquet for a little while.”
“Well, perhaps he wanted to have a game with some of the fellows over on the courts,” explained Hugh. “I noticed that several sets were on this afternoon for the first time this season. You were always a crackerjack at tennis, Tom, and it may run in the blood with all the Sherwoods.”
“That’s just where the trouble comes in, Hugh. Benjy never cared a red cent for playing, though I often wanted him to take a hand. No, I’m afraid that was just a sudden idea that flashed into his head, so that I wouldn’t think it strange that I should find him prowling in my room. Besides, he was as red as a beet when he asked me that simple question, and mother would never have thought he looked pale and sick if she had only seen him then.”
“You didn’t say anything to him, of course, Tom?”
“If you mean accuse him in any way, Hugh, certainly not,” came the ready answer. “To tell you the truth, my heart was just too full and too sore to think of scolding, or anything like that. I stepped over to where my old racquet stood behind the door, for I meant to have it restrung this spring, as it was getting in poor shape at the close of last season; and I handed it to Benjy, trying to look natural, too. I’m afraid, though, he must have seen something queer in my face, for I noticed he gave me a quick stare just as he took the racquet and hurried off, with muttered thanks.”
Hugh pondered over the matter. He hardly knew what to say. It might be a very innocent thing, on the part of Benjy. Again, there was a chance that the worst Tom feared might be only too true.
Hugh did not like the new boy in town, Park Norris. He had too much spending money for his own good, and it was said that his influence was not of the best upon several fellows who seemed to be fascinated by his manner and ways.
“I’ll tell you what, Tom,” the scout master presently remarked seriously, “leave this matter with me, and I promise you I’ll take it up very soon. I’ll try and learn how much Benjy is under the influence of Park Norris, and then find out if I can’t win his confidence. I seem to have a pretty good knack that way; at least, fellows tell me so, and I glory in it, too.”
“Oh, I’m sure that if only you could get Benjy to promise to break off with the set he’s been running with, Hugh, it would come out all right. It’s the cigarette and card habit I’m most afraid of. He’s such a lovable boy, you know, and I guess he is more easily led than I. So Park Norris has managed to get a grip on him. I don’t know of a single fellow who could win him back to his old way of living as well as you.”
“I give you my promise, Tom, remember, and I think I have the reputation of always keeping my word. I’ll do everything I can to make Benjy see that he’s on the wrong track. Will that satisfy you, old fellow?”
Tom suddenly clutched his friend’s hand and squeezed it convulsively.
“Oh, thank you, Hugh, thank you ever so much!” he went on to say, trying to restrain his emotion. “I’ve got such confidence in your way of doing things that somehow I seem to believe it’s just bound to come out all right, now that you’re going to go up against the evil influence of that Park Norris. Benjy will give in if he’s approached in the right spirit, and nobody knows how better to do that than you.”
“Try and keep on feeling that way, Tom,” advised the other, as his visitor picked up his hat preparatory to leaving. “Above all things don’t let Benjy see that you suspect him. Be particularly kind to him. Every time you do things for him it’s going to be a fresh stab at his conscience, you know. In the end it’ll make my job the easier. That’s all there is to do. Leave the rest to me, Tom.”
And the look of brimming gratitude which Tom Sherwood gave his chum spoke more eloquently than any words he could have uttered would have done. When he went forth again into the night air his brain was calmed by the thought that Hugh had again promised to help him; and past experiences and observation told Tom that the young scout master nearly always did everything he attempted.
Hugh, on his part, had hard work keeping his mind on his studies the rest of the evening.
CHAPTER VII.
HOW THE “UPLIFT” WORKED.
As the days went by, every one became convinced that a great change, and for the better, had come upon Oakvale. The scouts had entered upon their share in the uplift with boyish enthusiasm. They had already, most of them, seen service along somewhat similar lines, and felt as though they were veterans. Besides, they were constantly encouraged by the kind words and praise of the women whose weighty influence was back of the movement to encourage everything that was for the betterment of conditions in and around Oakvale, so as to make it a model town for clean living.
There were mistakes, plenty of them, but the scouts learned from experience, and it might be noticed that the same fellow seldom if ever committed the same blunder.
As the days went by, they became more and more proficient in their tasks, earning hearty praise from all those who were so deeply interested in the work. After a few drivers and chauffeurs had been fined, and some of them locked up for a spell, they began to realize that the scouts were not to be reckoned with as a big joke. When a boy, in the now respected khaki, standing in the middle of the street at that dangerous crossing, held up his white-gloved hand, traffic came to a sudden stop, and there was safe passage across for the groups of small children on the way to and from school.
It only delayed things for a minute at the most, but precious young lives were rendered safe from accident. Those boys who were given this privilege in regular rotation showed by their manner that they felt proud to fulfill their duties; nor did they in any instance abuse the privilege their badges gave them above their fellows.
What had at first seemed like a lark in the eyes of other boys not members of the troop presently became a serious matter. When some of them started to annoy members of the new Auxiliary Police they were soon startled by a visit at their homes by the stern Chief himself, who warned their folks that a second offense would mean severe punishment. Possibly some of those parents took it upon themselves to start operations by selecting a nice stout switch and keeping it in view.
However, gradually order came out of chaos. Hugh worked faithfully trying to remedy whatever proved to be faulty, and, of course, there were numberless things that constantly required attention.
Those were busy days for the regular police, and it kept them on the go, warning offenders against the sanitary code that affairs must be speedily altered; for those wide-awake eyes of the thirty scouts on duty all the time seemed to discover a myriad of things that were not being conducted according to law, and were a disgrace to any decent community.
The mayor was now heart and soul in the work. He realized that he had the backing of the solid people of the town, as well as all the church members, and the women besides.
Once Oakvale had experienced the delight of being really clean it would require an upheaval to make them change back to old conditions. There was an element, however, as is always the case in every community, that looked upon these happenings with more or less angry mutterings and frowns, for with the change had passed their source of gain and livelihood. They knew better than to talk openly against the new order of things, but whenever and wherever the opportunity arose they would try to excite derision for the “uplift” movement.
It seemed as though these people who loved darkness rather than light felt especially sore toward Hugh Hardin and his scouts. They believed that somehow the khaki boys were the backbone of the whole business, as they were the ones whose eyes detected offenses and reported the same to headquarters every day. With a score and a half of bright lads constantly on the scent it was difficult for anything unlawful to escape notice.
Without the help given by Hugh and his scouts the movement could never have attained such wonderful success from the beginning—that was as good as acknowledged by almost every one on both sides. It was not singular then that some of the lower elements, finding themselves hedged about with so many difficulties in gaining a livelihood in such a spick-and-span town, should get their heads together with the object of devising some shrewd method by means of which the old conditions might be brought back again.
Plainly then to do this the easiest way would be to conjure up some means whereby the new order of things would be brought into contempt. Hugh himself had more than once been given obscure threats that unless he relaxed his vigilance and shut his eyes to certain things if they started up again, he would find himself in a peck of trouble.
Not once did the boy flinch, even though he felt that some of these men were of a desperate nature, and would descend to almost any mean depths when their former lawless habits were interfered with. Hugh consulted with the minister, Mr. Dobbs, and the mayor of Oakvale, both of whom promised to stand by the scouts through any difficulty.
These things aroused the women greatly when they heard of them. Plainly the enemies of the community were becoming alarmed, thinking they had been cast out for good. If conditions did not soon improve there would have to be considerable emigration to other communities that did not have ambitions to merit the name of “Spotless Town.” But it was believed that before they yielded up the fight these people would very likely make one last great effort to turn the tables on the reformers.
They had been engaging legal talent in Oakvale to look up the law and ascertain whether the mayor had not overstepped his authority when he ordered certain resorts closed where young fellows had been in the habit of congregating to play pool. Although no actual proof had as yet been produced, it was widely understood that other games far less innocent had also been played there, and that indeed liquor could be procured on the premises by those who “knew the ropes.”
But there were other lawyers on the side of the mayor, backed by the women and the reform element. They made certain that things were kept within the bounds granted by the law. Then the town Council, now wholly committed to the new order of things, announced themselves ready to pass any additional law necessary to continue things as they were.
A week later and Hugh began to breathe easier. He felt that matters had advanced so far that they could plume themselves on making the movement a success. He was every day hoping to hear that the elements they had cause to fear were commencing to leave town. As long as they continued to abide in Oakvale the danger was that of a snake “scotched, not killed,” and liable to come to life again at any time.
All this while he had not found a good chance to keep his promise to Tom Sherwood, mostly on account of the press of business. With so many things depending on him while acting in the place of Lieutenant Denmead, still absent from home, as well as his studying for the spring examinations, Hugh certainly had his hands full.
But whenever he happened to meet Tom, and saw that look of entreaty on the other’s face, Hugh took himself to task for not finding time to enter upon the little side campaign for the redemption of Benjy Sherwood.
So far as he knew, the latter did not seem to be in the company of the Norris boy on the various occasions when Hugh had noticed the latter on the street. That was no reason, however, that Benjy did not seek his society at other times, and perhaps visit at Park’s house, where possibly cards were not prohibited as a source of boyish amusement.
“I’m going to start something doing in that direction by to-morrow,” Hugh was telling himself as he walked toward home one afternoon, after making a report to the Chief and receiving the usual congratulations on his proficiency.
It was the sight of Benjy across the way that caused him to say that, for the other had come out of the store where all sorts of games, from baseball goods and skates down to playing cards, were for sale and exhibited in the windows.
It seemed to Hugh, although he admitted that perhaps his imagination made him think so, that Benjy Sherwood glanced to the right and left as he came out, as a fellow might who was trying to hide something, or else felt conscience stricken. He noticed that the other was also trying to keep a package he carried close to his body as he walked on.
Suddenly Hugh saw Benjy turn and hurry down a side street, almost running, in fact. He hardly knew what to make of this until, chancing to look further along, he discovered Tom Sherwood in sight. It hardly seemed likely that the other had noticed his younger brother’s very suspicious action in wanting to elude him.
Hugh felt a strange fascination in connection with the matter. It was growing more interesting than ever, and more mysterious, he admitted. What had Benjy been doing in that store that he should dislike to have his brother see him, and actually turn and slink away?
“I’ll know something about this before a great while,” Hugh was telling himself as he walked slowly on, trying to figure out what his best plan of campaign might be under the circumstances. As a wise scout he always tried to make ample preparations before starting in on a game.
As once before, Hugh had gotten almost within sight of his home fence when he heard his name called from the rear. It was not Tom Sherwood this time who came running after him, but Ralph Kenyon.
Ralph had always been a great favorite of Hugh’s. There was a time when the other had been making money trapping small fur-bearing animals up above Oakvale, and proving himself quite a woodsman, in so far as having a knowledge of the habits of these four-footed forest denizens went.
That was before Ralph became interested in the scouts and finally joined the troop. He could not be induced to set a single cruel steel trap now, because he looked at things in an entirely different light from those other days. But he was without a peer in the whole troop when it came to a question of following a trail, or being able to understand what the thousand-and-one little signs in the woods stood for.
Ralph looked excited, Hugh saw, as the other drew near, and the first thing the scout master thought the cause to be some fresh insult from the rough element in town opposed to the new conditions.
Hugh was ready to turn right-about face and go back to the office of the Chief, if Ralph’s complaint seemed serious enough to warrant it. He was determined that the work so well begun should not be put back by any underhand methods.
Ralph soon came up, gulping in big draughts of air. His face was red, and what seemed to be a look of indignation, according to Hugh’s mind, could be seen there.
“Something got twisted and needs straightening out, eh, Ralph?” asked the scout master pleasantly.
“Worse than that, I’m afraid, Hugh,” replied Ralph.
“None of the boys hurt, I hope?” quickly inquired Hugh, for the one thing he had been dreading was an open rupture between the rival forces in town, with stones flying and a near-riot in the process of forming.
“Well, not yet, Hugh, but if things keep on there’s going to be the dickens to pay,” panted Ralph, leaning against the fence as he spoke. “Fact is, those gamblers and law breakers have got desperate, and they’ve schemed to put us scouts in a bad hole, so the mayor will have to discharge us and start the whole uplift game tumbling in the soup; that’s what makes me look so scared like, Hugh!”
CHAPTER VIII.
ONE USE FOR WOODCRAFT KNOWLEDGE.
“What do you mean by putting us scouts in a bad hole, Ralph?” asked Hugh, quickly, for what the other boy had said startled him.
Ralph glanced hurriedly about, as though to make absolutely certain that no eavesdroppers were near by to overhear what he said. Then he drew closer to Hugh and assumed a most mysterious manner that could not help having an effect upon the surprised scout chief.
“Oh! they’re as mad as hops, let me tell you, Hugh,” Ralph commenced.
“Of course you mean, Ralph, those fellows who were hurt when we put the lid tight on Oakvale, and stopped their sneaky business, whatever it may have been?”
“Yes, and they’ve got together and mean to fight back, that’s how it stands now, Hugh,” he was told.