“A bunch of scouts like ours ought to be able to handle three men, I should say,” ventured Tom Sherwood.
“Especially when they’re likely to be cowards at heart!” added Jack Dunham.
“What makes you think that?” demanded Whistling Smith. “Seems to me Ralph said they looked like a tough lot of fellows.”
“All the same,” the other went on to say defiantly, as though he knew he was right, and meant to stick to his assertion, “any set of men who would steal away an innocent little chap like that Reuben, must be cowards at heart, no matter how much they try to bluster and make out to be bullies.”
“Good for you, Jack,” Alec Sands put in. “I back you up in saying that. When it comes to a show-down, you mark me they’ll run before they think of trying to stand before our crowd.”
The idea rather pleased most of the scouts. They were not inclined to be ferocious at all, though perhaps some of them would feel disappointed unless they had a chance to get at least one whack at the scoundrels who had stolen the boy. This could be understood from the nervous manner in which they handled those various cudgels with which they had armed themselves before quitting the camp.
CHAPTER XI.
THE VALUE OF BEING PREPARED.
“We’re going to find out who’s swinging that lantern anyway,” ventured one of the boys after a while. “Ralph’s heading in that direction in a hurry.”
“There’s a whole pack of ’em in the bargain, at least four or five, because I c’n glimpse ’em every time the light swings back,” said Jack Dunham, a bit nervously.
“Listen to the chatter, will you?” observed Alec. “That tells who they are.”
“Some of the strikers, for a cookey!” added another boy.
There was a rush as the five men came up to them. Evidently the sight of that odd glow traveling over the ground had surprised and mystified them, and they were now bent on learning its origin.
Ralph at the proper time turned the little hand searchlight full upon the newcomers. It was in this way discovered that they were undoubtedly strikers who had evidently been scouring the immediate vicinity in the hope of learning what had become of Mr. Campertown’s grandchild.
“There’s the old padrone at their head!” ejaculated Alec.
“Wonder if Hugh means to tell them to fall in with us?” suggested Arthur Cameron.
“Oh, my goodness, I hope not!” muttered Billy Worth, who for some reason of his own seemed to prefer that the strikers keep their distance, and to leeward at that. The padrone had by this time discovered who it was influenced that queer light to skim along so close to the ground. Hugh, on his part, was pleased to see that the old fellow had been doing everything in his power to fulfill his contract with regard to trying to find the missing child.
“Don’t stop, Ralph,” he told the tracker hurriedly.
“Shunt them off on a side trail, Hugh!” whispered the anxious Billy. “We ought to be crowd enough ourselves to do the business if ever we come up with those three.”
Hugh managed to do this without hurting the feelings of the padrone. It only required a little tact to accomplish the thing. He suggested that the strikers could cover the ground in one district while the scouts carried out their own plans. The padrone understood, because he and his men drifted off again on the hunt, for they spread out like an open fan as they went.
Billy chuckled as though he felt relieved.
“Thank goodness for that!” he observed. “I can breathe easy again. Not but that the padrone means honest, and his men seem to be all right; but their ways ain’t our ways, you know; and, well, I won’t say any more because I want to be fair.”
“What’s happened now, I wonder?” asked Whistling Smith, when they saw that the two in the van had come to a sudden pause.
Hugh turned to the rest of the eager party hovering around.
“Ralph says that right here he can see where the man who had been carrying the child turned and gave his burden into the charge of the fellow wearing the torn shoe” was what he told them, much to their wonder and delight.
“That’s going some,” said the admiring Alec. “Think of him being able to read signs just as easy as we might a page in a book. If any Indian, or that old hunter in Cooper’s Leatherstocking tales, could beat our chum, I’ll eat my hat.”
When the forward movement was resumed they were all feeling more satisfied than ever that it would come out right. Difficulties might, and doubtless would, continue to arise and confront them, but so long as they had such a clever comrade glued to the trail, these must in turn be brushed aside.
Yes, the scent of victory seemed to be in the air for those scouts; it invigorated them beyond measure, and made the labor of that night tramp seem like play.
A quarter of an hour afterward and Ralph announced that the third member of the fugitives had taken the boy, still asleep, and perhaps drugged so that he might not betray them by any crying spell brought about by fright.
“That eases my mind a whole lot,” Bud Morgan remarked; “because do you know I was afraid that fellow, with that torn sole on his shoe, might trip and hurt Reuben. But he didn’t, or else Ralph would have told us so. It’s all right, and things are working for us to beat the band.”
In fact, it was an object lesson to some of the scouts to see how cleverly Ralph managed to read those signs. Those, who up to then had not taken a great deal of interest in such things, began to realize that they were missing one of the best traditions of scoutcraft; and no doubt were taking mental resolutions that from that time on they would turn over new leaves.
They had by now gone more than a mile from the cement plant, and still the trail beckoned them on. Hugh had given it as his opinion that the three abductors must certainly be heading for some place previously selected as a hide-out.
“I base that belief on several things,” he explained, when they had halted for Ralph to rest his strained eyes a minute or two. “In the first place they’ve been hitting it up in an almost direct line. If they had been simply bent on putting as much ground as they could between themselves and the sheriff’s posse, they would have been apt to turn to the right or to the left from time to time as if uncertain which way to go. Am I right, Ralph?”
“It sounds good to me, Hugh,” came the ready response to his question.
“Another thing,” continued the scout master, always willing to pass around any knowledge he might possess, “it isn’t likely these desperate men would go into a game like this without laying all their plans beforehand. They take a lot of risk as it is, because kidnapping a child is a felony that calls for twenty years in the penitentiary.”
Ralph, being rested, evinced a desire to once more take up his onerous duties, and so the little heart-to-heart talk ended for the time being. Such things as these, however, were apt to arouse an additional interest in the minds of lagging scouts, and cause them to watch Ralph’s movements with more concern than ever.
That first mile began to lengthen until some of them felt it must surely be double that distance they had passed over. Still not one complaint had been uttered or a sigh heard.
Nurse Jones seemed to be able to hold her own with the best of them. Apparently it had been no idle boast on her part when she told Hugh she made it a practice to walk ten miles every day and frequently double that far. At that rate, there was really more danger of some of the boys dropping out than of Nurse Jones failing in her self-imposed task.
More than once some of the scouts secretly told each other that she was a “wonder,” and this might be reckoned high praise, coming from boys who, proud of their own accomplishments along the line of extended hikes, were apt to look down contemptuously on such feeble efforts as their sisters among the Campfire Girls might attempt.
It had been remarked that not once had they approached a human habitation. From this fact they could understand that the three men meant to avoid from being seen as much as was possible while heading for their destination.
Hugh was satisfied with the way things were going. For a little while he had secretly confessed at being worried; that was when he feared the men might be making for some station on the railroad; because once they managed to reach a city, the difficulty of finding them would be increased many fold. Scouts are more at home in the great open than on stone pavements, where most of their knowledge of woodcraft would be wasted.
This was of the past now, for the country seemed to be getting more and more lonely as they continued to advance.
Sometimes Ralph met trouble and had to bring his reserve stock of cunning into play before he was able to go on. This generally happened at places where the nature of the ground made the trail almost indistinguishable to the human eye. Perhaps, at such times, Billy Worth might have been caught wishing once more that they had a dog along with the ability to follow a scent; for such an acquisition to their force would have solved these riddles faster than Ralph was able to.
Nevertheless, in every instance, the delay was only temporary, and each in turn served to impress more firmly upon the minds of the boys the great lesson of preparedness they were learning.
Only for Ralph’s taking such pains to study up along these lines they would be finding themselves hopelessly beaten in the endeavor to track down the abductors of little Reuben.
“I wonder if they mean to keep on going all night long?” Blake Merton remarked to the boy on his left, when there could be no doubt about their having covered a good two and a half miles.
“Well, we ought to be as able to keep it going as long as those men,” said Tom Sherwood. “What’s the use of scouts training at long-distance walking, mountain climbing, and all that sort of thing, if they can’t beat out a pack of men who have never practised such stunts?”
Apparently there was no answer to that query; at least Blake Merton did not appear to find any, for he relapsed into silence.
All this occurred while they had been surrounded by darkness. What lay beyond they could only guess at; except when the outlines of tree-tops were seen against the sky there was no means of telling where the horizon lay.
Far in the distance they saw lights from time to time, but as they progressed further along on their journey even these failed to show. This would seem to indicate that the country must be getting more and more lonely.
“It’s a hide-out they’re making for, Hugh,” Ralph declared for the third time. “We’re going to strike pay-dirt sooner or later. And right now, if you look ahead, you can see a dim sort of light. I wouldn’t be much surprised if that was it!”
When the other boys heard this assertion made, they quickened their pace in a perceptible degree; their actions were much more lively, and it could be seen that the pursuit had taken on new vim.
As they drew steadily closer to the dim light they found reason to believe that Ralph was stating the truth when he predicted speedy success.
“It seems to be coming from a window, like there might be a shack of some kind there!” one scout ventured, in a whisper.
“Why, look here, will you, we’ve struck a road!” observed another, exercising the same amount of caution.
“But it’s an old and abandoned one, let me tell you, Billy. See how the grass has grown all over it. They must have built a new road some years ago, and left this one high and dry. That house ahead of us, where the light comes from, was once facing on this same road, and now it’s left high and dry.”
“I tell you what,” Billy declared, “it must have been abandoned by the people who lived there when the old road was given up. They moved to new quarters; and these men, looking around for a good hiding-place, located this shack.”
Hugh at that point asked the others not to even whisper any longer.
“We’ve marked this spot so we could find it again if we wanted to,” he explained to them. “You notice that Ralph isn’t using his torch any more. He thinks it might be dangerous if anyone happened to be looking this way.”
“And do we creep up so as to take a peek in at the shack then, Hugh?” asked Billy.
“Yes, that’s the program,” the scout master told them. “Remember, everybody, not to speak a word unless you’re forced to, and then let it be as soft as the night wind whispering through the leaves. Come on!”
They were wild with eagerness as they obeyed their leader. Each scout mentally resolved that it would not be set down at his door if their finely-laid plans missed connections, and success failed to reward their efforts.
In this way, then, they moved along, and drew close up to the house on the abandoned public highway, from which that light shone dimly through the dirty window sash.
CHAPTER XII.
AT THE END OF THE TRAIL.
Hugh had already learned the nature of the building upon which they had come while following the trail of the three disgruntled former guards who had been let go when the sheriff took charge of affairs in the strike zone.
It was an old, tumbledown structure, and, from what he could see of it in the semi-darkness of the night, the scout master believed it had formerly been used as a residence and blacksmith shop combined.
At some time in the dim past, no doubt, the brawny smith who dwelt there had made a fair living by handling his share of the traffic of wagons that rumbled past the place. The building of the new road had left him high and dry, so that it became necessary for him to seek another location, perhaps at some crossroads, in order to continue his vocation.
Of course all this just flashed through the mind of the scout master when he saw what manner of building it was they had come upon. He could not spare the time at present to look into it any deeper. There was work to be done, and, if they hoped to come out of this affair with credit to themselves as worthy scouts, they must devote their entire time and attention to the task in hand.
First of all they wished to ascertain who was inside that old ramshackle building where the elements had played at hide-and-seek, no doubt, for many a year after its abandonment as a habitation and bustling place of business.
To accomplish this they crept toward the window where that dim light shone through the dusty window-panes. Miraculous to relate, these still remained whole, perhaps because there had come along no lively boy capable of hurling a stone with accurate aim.
In cases of this kind, when the scouts were out in force, they had a systematic way of doing things. Those who were recognized as their leaders must be accorded the first privilege. Consequently there was no jostling and crowding now, as they made toward that coveted place of observation. While every fellow would be glad of a chance to see, he was ready to await his turn, if need be.
It was with considerable eagerness that Hugh and Ralph, having been given first chance by virtue of their recent labors, raised their heads and glued their eyes to the soiled glass.
Only by means of this close contact were they able to see at all through the small and almost opaque window panes. Several candles were burning on a table. These had been placed in as many bottles to serve in place of candlesticks, of which there was apparently a dearth in the old place.
The window belonged to a room adjoining the shed where in past days the smith had had his forge and conducted his horseshoeing business. It may have served as a combined dining and sitting-room in those happy times; but, if so, it must have been a rather dismal place. Still, there were two other windows the boys noticed, though they had wooden shutters closed on them. The third one had been torn from its moorings in some wild gale, and lay on the ground in fragments, which was possibly the reason the last window had not also been screened.
Except a rickety little table, not worth taking away, and a bench, there was not a single article of furniture in the room. But then, what more could hardly be expected in connection with a long-ago, abandoned house?
It told Hugh that those who were now occupying the place did not expect to stay there, and had no means of making themselves even halfway comfortable.
Having found a section in the lower part of the pane where there chanced to be a little less grime than usual, he was now able to see better. There were moving figures in the room, one, two, yes, three of them. They were all men, and this must have struck Hugh as a most suggestive fact, since they had been following a trio of fugitives for the last hour and a half, perhaps more.
Ralph was feeling for his ear, and, understanding that the other wished to whisper something, the scout master bent his head lower.
“It’s them!” was all Ralph spoke, but it was quite enough.
Hugh did not need to cudgel his brains to understand to what the other was referring. He knew Ralph, in some way, recognized the men inside the deserted smithy as the trio of guards who had come back after being dismissed by the sheriff. Hugh guessed from this that Ralph must have found a much cleaner section of window pane than it had been his luck to run across.
Hugh again tried to discover what the inmates of the room were doing, for he had before that seen them moving around as though busily engaged; and, even the sound of heavy voices, accompanied by hoarse laughter, had drifted to his ears.
At first Hugh was puzzled to account for the apparently strange act of two of the men who were moving about. He saw them open bundles they had doubtless carried with them to the old building. These seemed to contain clothes, for they held them up. They also made some sort of comment, as though inviting the criticism of the third man, who was smoking a pipe and taking it easy, sitting on the bench, with one foot raised, and his back against the wall.
It would appear as though the men might be thinking of opening an old clothes shop, for all that they took out of the bundles looked dilapidated. Hugh could not be quite sure, but somehow it struck him that he had seen just such clothes among the foreign workers.
When he saw one of the men hold up a colored handkerchief, such as the women belonging to the strikers universally wore, his suspicions became a conviction. There was a deep and dark design in what the two men were engaged in doing; it was not the idle horseplay it might appear on the surface.
Hugh remembered of lately reading how unscrupulous prospectors have many times been known to “salt” a mine deemed worthless, so that it could be sold to some innocent, trusting Eastern capitalist. Well, these rascals were doing something of the same sort then and there, only in this case it was their design to unload the entire ignominy of the evil deed they had just carried out on to the shoulders of the wretched strikers.
They had managed to secure some of the garments belonging in the foreign settlement, perhaps by raiding a clothes line; and these garments they meant to scatter about the place. When, later, directed by some clue over the wire, perhaps, the authorities hurried to the old smithy and found the stolen child there, they would never have a single doubt but that the place had been occupied by a party of foreigners, and in this way the crime would be laid at the door of the strikers who had reason to hate Mr. Campertown.
It was a miserable sort of game, Hugh thought, as he continued to watch the way the three hilarious ex-guards were carrying on, all of them having perhaps been drinking more than was good for them, as there were flasks in sight on the table.
He could not understand just how they expected to profit by the deal; but possibly they had this all planned out; or it might be that revenge was all they wanted, which was meant to fall heavily upon both the strikers and the millionaire.
Hugh had seen quite enough. He believed the child was in that other room beyond the door he had noticed in the wall. Several times he had discovered one of the men pointing in that direction, as though he might be referring to the innocent object of their treacherous raid.
Hugh backed away and allowed others to take his place, so that by degrees all of the scouts could feel that they had been given a fair show.
The next thing was how to go about the task of frightening the three men off, and preventing them from carrying the child in addition. Hugh was figuring all this over in his mind as he waited for the last detachment to creep up and take a look through the grimy window panes.
Of course, there need be no great effort made to come in contact with the desperate trio. Their capture was not so much what the scouts were after as the recovery of the child.
That was why Hugh began figuring in his mind upon a little scheme by means of which he believed they might beat the enemy at their own game. If these men could crawl through a convenient window and run away with the boy, possibly the resourceful scouts might adopt the same stratagem with a chance for success.
Was there a window to the other room, and, if so, would they find it fastened up by a barricade in the shape of a heavy wooden shutter? The thought had hardly appealed to Hugh before he was drawing Ralph with him around the corner.
“What’s the game now?” whispered that surprised scout, though he did not offer the slightest objection to being towed along, for he felt sure Hugh had hit on some clever device that might lead to the confusion of the foe.
“I’m looking for a window,” replied the other, as near his ear as it was possible for him to place his lips. “One opening into that other room. I think the boy must be in there. We can give them tit for tat if it’s possible to get inside and carry off the child.”
“But, Hugh, don’t you believe they’re meaning to abandon him, after setting that trap with all those dago things?” asked Ralph, proving that he, as well as the scout master, had guessed the true reason for the actions of the men.
“Yes, it looks like it, but I’m afraid they may change their minds. ‘A bird in the hand is better than two in the bush,’ Ralph.”
“Guess you’re right, Hugh; do whatever you think is best,” was what Ralph told the scout leader.
It generally happened that way. Hugh’s plans appealed to his chums in an irresistible fashion. If there was some honest opposition at first, it usually gave way after he had disclosed his hand, and shown the real value of his idea.
The window was soon found, and, as Hugh expected, there was a heavy wooden shutter guarding it. At first sight this would appear to have been a serious setback to any design the scouts might entertain looking to effecting an entrance. Hugh started an immediate investigation, and a satisfied grunt told his comrade that he had made a pleasing discovery.
“I thought as much!” whispered the scout master, as he softly began to draw the wooden blind back.
Like nearly everything else about the old rookery, it was in a dilapidated condition, and could not be securely fastened on the inside. The men may have drawn it shut, so as to conceal their light as much as possible, but found no occasion to spend any precious time in trying to mend the broken blind.
As he continued to draw this obstruction back, Hugh began to see light within. He knew how this came, remembering that the door between the two rooms had been partly open.
Gluing his eye to the cracked glass, he tried to discover evidences of the stolen child’s presence. There was some sort of bundle on the floor in one corner, and, while he could not just make it out in the dim light, he found reason to believe this must be little Reuben, still fast asleep.
The next thing on the scouts’ program consisted of forcing the window and gaining an entrance. Hugh made a little test, and found that he could move the sash, although only with an effort.
Ralph came to his assistance, having his hunting knife in hand, the point of which he inserted under the obstinate sash. This proved to be the right trick, and things were moving splendidly when there came an unexpected interruption.
One of the scouts had the misfortune to sneeze violently; and, alarmed by the sound, the men inside could be heard making wildly for the door, evidently with the intention of effecting their escape from what might turn out to be a sudden trap!
CHAPTER XIII.
WELL WORTH WHILE.
“Get around to the door, everybody; they’re trying to escape!” shouted Hugh, as he whirled away from the window that had been engaging his attention.
Ralph was alongside as he turned the corner of the old smithy. The other scouts had hardly known what to do, although several of the most active seemed to be in motion, headed for the exit of the old house. These were Alec and Bud and big Tom Sherwood, and the trio presented quite a formidable phalanx. They turned the corner just in time to cut off the flight of the last of the abductors, who had tripped and fallen inside the room, thus delaying his departure for a few seconds.
The other pair could be heard pounding off in rapid order, thoroughly frightened, for they had heard the cries that were coming from the boys, and of course imagined that the sheriff’s posse had arrived on their heels.
There was enough light escaping from the open door for the third rascal to get a glimpse of khaki uniforms on the flitting figures that formed a cordon across his path. No doubt he believed on the spur of the moment that the militia must have been sent to the scene of the late riot to keep the peace, and that one of their first efforts had been to run himself and his fellow kidnappers down.
The boys assailed him without hesitation. As scouts they had long ago learned the great value of assuming the offensive, if it ever became necessary to do any fighting, which is not often supposed to be the case.
When Hugh and Ralph and the rest of the troop came hurrying around the corner they saw a struggling mass which no one could fully make out in the darkness.
“Throw your light on them, Ralph!” ordered the scout master instantly.
As soon as this was done they could see that their three comrades were hanging on desperately to the man, who seemed to be doing everything in his power to hurl them aside, though without avail.
Alec had seized hold of one arm, while Bud hung to the other, and Tom Sherwood managed to get his arms twined around the fellow’s thick neck, so that he was beginning to exercise quite some pressure. At least the man looked fiery red, as if his breathing had become difficult.
“Pile on, and throw him down, boys!” Hugh called out, and willingly as many of the others obeyed as could manage to get a grip on the object of their attention.
By sheer weight of numbers the fellow was borne to the earth and rolled over on his face. Then his hands were drawn behind his back, and Billy Worth, producing a stout cord, lashed them together. After that he was unable to make any more trouble, or even try and effect his escape, for no one can run with any degree of swiftness when his arms are drawn tightly behind him.
“Let him get up, and keep him held tight,” said Hugh. “Come with me, Ralph, and fetch your light along. Nurse Jones, you’re in this, too.”
They hurried into the house and quickly reached the second room. Before Hugh or Ralph could reach the object on the floor, Nurse Jones had darted forward and was bending over it. As she arose, they saw that she was holding the limp figure of little Reuben in her arms.
“What ails him?” asked Ralph in trembling tones, as he saw that despite all the noise and confusion the child did not appear to pay any attention.
“They’ve given him some narcotic, for I can get the scent of it,” replied Nurse Jones. “It was done to keep him quiet while they were carrying him out of the office, for they must have been afraid of the sheriff and his men. But the effect is wearing away fast now. He begins to stir, and—there, you can see, his eyelids are quivering. He will wake up immediately.”
Hardly had she spoken than the eyes of the child were seen to open. He stared up into the face of Nurse Jones as though bewildered. She held him tightly to her breast, and bending down pressed affectionate kisses on his cheeks.
There must have been something responsive about her action that aroused his childish confidence, for almost immediately his little arms were around her neck.
“Hurrah!” shouted Ralph Kenyon, quite overcome by the sight, and feeling that he must give voice to his excitement, or act like a baby and cry.
“Let’s go outside with him, for the rest of the boys will want to have a share in the victory!” suggested Hugh, always thinking of others.
Loud were the cheers that arose when they joined the rest of the troop. The dejected prisoner must have realized more than ever the bitterness of the moment, as he saw those gallant boys swinging their hats wildly above their heads, and giving vent to their feelings in rousing shouts.
So they once more turned their faces back over the old trail. Hugh remembered that Mr. Campertown was suffering dreadfully, and he wanted to have Nurse Jones put the rescued child in his grandfather’s arms, because, somehow, that seemed a fitting end to the program according to Hugh’s mind.
While there was little reason to anticipate any sort of attack from the other pair of alarmed plotters, still the scouts were not meaning to be taken off their guard.
They formed a solid phalanx around Hugh, who was taking his turn at carrying the child, and kept those handy clubs ready for instant use. It turned out that there was no necessity for this arrangement, since in the end they arrived at the works without having met with the slightest hindrance.
There were lights within the big office, and, having placed little Reuben in the arms of Nurse Jones, Hugh led the laughing and chattering lot of scouts within. The sheriff and Mr. Campertown had evidently been unable to sleep, and must have been trying to lay some new plan of campaign at the time the bustle at the door announced the arrival of the boys.
Straight up to the millionaire walked Nurse Jones, holding little Reuben, while into the room after her thronged the entire pack of scouts, every fellow wild to witness what was scheduled to take place.
Of course the first thing Mr. Campertown did was to clutch the boy and squeeze him in his arms. But almost immediately afterward he was seen to be staring in the pretty and flushed face of Nurse Jones. In that wonderful moment something like the amazing truth must have rushed into his mind, which would account for what he started to say in a trembling voice:
“They told me your name was Nurse Jones, child, but surely you have the eyes and features of my first born, Allan. You are, you must be, a Campertown!”
Nurse Jones nodded her head in the affirmative.
“My name is Norma, the same as my father’s mother,” she told him.
Mr. Campertown was as white as a sheet, as some of the boys expressed it afterward, but his eyes were fastened eagerly upon the flushed face of this granddaughter whom he had never known.
“And it is from your hands I have received my little darling Reuben,” he almost groaned, as though he felt terribly humbled and contrite. “It must be intended for a punishment on my head for my cruelty to your father and mother in the long ago. Tell me, are you alone in the world, or do either or both of them yet live?”
“My father is still living, sir, though in very poor health, and in need. He has always said that it was through no fault of his the estrangement came about, and in all these years he would not hear of my ever trying to see you or communicate with you. He is firmly convinced that if ever this unhappy trouble was to be bridged over, the initial step must come from his father. He has the Campertown stubbornness, sir, which will stay with him to the end.”
“And it will come from me!” declared the millionaire firmly. “I have repented of my folly long, long ago, but never knew what had become of poor Allan. To-morrow, my dear granddaughter, you shall take me to him, and we must be reconciled. I am an old man now, and with but few years more to live. I hope to make up in part for what you and my son have suffered.”
Then he turned to Hugh and shook him by the hand. Indeed he insisted on doing the same with each and every one of the scouts.
“I will see you in the morning, my gallant boys,” he said, as they prepared to withdraw. “Depend on it, I have not forgotten that I made you a promise if you succeeded in restoring my darling to my arms. I can give a pretty good guess what it is you mean to ask of me, and I am more than ready to grant it in full.”
It was a happy group of scouts who wended their way back to the camp, where the whole story of their latest achievement had to be retold to Harold and Monkey Stallings, whom they found sitting up and waiting for them.
Indeed, they had reason to feel satisfied with what they had accomplished while on this their first outing of the summer. Not only had they been instrumental in instituting a scout field hospital, and taking care of the victims of the conflict between the strikers and the armed guards of the cement plant; but now they were apparently destined to be chiefly instrumental in bringing an era of industrial peace to that disturbed section.
They could certainly go back to the home town when their camping trip was over with the pleasing knowledge that a good fortune had allowed them to be of tremendous service to their fellow men; and that is the cardinal principle actuating the ambition of every true scout.
There promised to be very little sleep that night in the scouts’ camp. Everybody was more or less excited after the strange happenings that had so lately taken place.
Questions without number were showered on those fortunate enough to have taken part in the adventures connected with the riot at the cement works, and the coming of the Red Cross ambulance.
To Harold the whole thing was a revelation indeed, and he felt that it had been a privilege to be connected with the scouts whose assistance had turned out to be so appreciated.
Monkey Stallings was almost inconsolable because he had not been able to join the group that went out to lend a helping hand.
“Now all of you are slated for the bronze medal that I’ve always hoped to wear some of these fine days,” he complained, “and it leaves me out in the cold.”
Of course the only consolation they could offer him was that his time was apt to come later on. Monkey Stallings was perhaps the only unhappy chap sitting alongside that cheery campfire, for the rest felt elated over their recent good luck, and it was only with considerable effort that Hugh managed to chase them off to their blankets.
All were up early in the morning, for the day promised to be a lively one with them.
Hugh and several of his chums meant to go over to the works, and have a plain talk with Mr. Campertown. While his heart was feeling soft over the wonderful revelations of the preceding night, Hugh believed was the time to secure favors for the strikers.
Besides, the manufacturer had as good as half promised that he was ready to hear all Hugh had to say; and the hearty squeeze which he had given the boy’s hand told the latter that the land was fallow, and ready for the plow.
Of course they had the usual rollicking time in preparing breakfast for the crowd. There had come over a bountiful amount of stores with the compliments of Mr. Campertown. This was pretty good evidence that he did not mean to keep those guards on duty any longer, feeding them inside the works. At least Hugh looked at it that way, and Arthur seemed of the same opinion.
“It’s all going to come out the finest anybody could ever dream of,” the latter declared, as a party of them talked it over shortly after breakfast was done.
“Just to think of Nurse Jones turning out to be his grandchild after all; and she the finest young woman we’ve met this long time,” remarked Billy Worth.
“I expect I know a party who agrees with you there, Billy,” chuckled Alec; “and that’s the young Red Cross surgeon. I could see how Dr. Richter’s eyes were fastened on Nurse Jones as if he could nearly eat her.”
“Well, that’s none of our affair,” replied Billy; “and she looks sweet enough to eat, if you’ll take it from me.”
When Hugh got ready to go over to the works under the belief that Mr. Campertown could be seen, he selected just Billy, Alec and Arthur to accompany him.
Seeing some of the rest look deeply disappointed, the patrol leader felt that he ought to explain.
“Of course I’d like to ask you all to go with me, boys,” he said, “but the office is small; and besides, Mr. Campertown mightn’t like to see a crowd. You know this is a delicate subject we’re meaning to talk over with him, and his private business in the bargain. But we’ll promise to tell you everything. And then again, Nurse Jones has promised to take dinner with us to-day, so you want to tidy up the camp, and lay out a menu that’ll do us credit.”
So Hugh and the other three went off. They saw that everything seemed to be very quiet over in the foreign settlement.
“I guess the padrone has brought them to their senses,” said Billy; “and it’s a lucky thing, too, because they’re going to win the strike. The very thing that seemed to be a calamity for the poor fellows has proved the stepping-stone for a big advance.”
“Better still,” added Hugh, “there’s a new Mr. Campertown now at the head of the cement works. By that I mean he’s seen a light, and guided by the love of his granddaughter never again will he be the stern employer he’s been in the past.”
“It’s a grand good thing all around,” said Alec, “and for one I’m glad to have had even a small part in helping things get where they are right now.”
At the works things seemed to be going on, but to the delight of the scouts they saw men working on the stockade.
“Why, what do you think, they’re knocking the whole thing flat!” exclaimed Billy, as if the sight astonished him.
As for Hugh, he felt that this was a sure sign peace was going to reign in those works from that hour on. Contented workmen would have no cause for grievance against a just and generous employer; and guards armed with deadly Winchesters would never again be known in the Campertown establishment.
They found the gentleman seated in his little office. He was looking a hundred per cent. better than when they last saw him, and even smiled genially as he shook each one of the four boys by the hand.
“I know of course just what you want to see me for this morning, boys,” he told them, “and in the start I mean to tell you that I’ve seen a great light. This bloody business would never have occurred if I had been present; but all the same I’m partly responsible for the trouble, because I refused to arbitrate with my old hands, or investigate their plea that they were nearly starving on the new wage plan. And I’ve sent for the padrone to make an agreement with him restoring wages to the point they were before the strike.”