No wonder that the four scouts were staring with all their might. Surely it was enough to make any one believe he had the nightmare to see two figures in strangely striped clothes, very like the barred sides of the zebra in the circus, feverishly picking up the articles that had been scattered around when the basket of the balloon struck the ground.
“Gee whiz! what is it?” gasped Billy, as motionless as a marble statue in his surprise.
“The clothes—just like I saw on the convicts, when I was visiting my aunt over in the next county!” Bud said faintly; but his words gave them all a distinct clue, and they realized that it was not a bad dream, after all.
“That’s what they are, escaped convicts!” declared Hugh, emphatically.
“But they’re hooking all the professor’s things, Hugh!” Billy found voice to add. “Are we going to stand for that?”
“Not for a minute!” responded the leader quickly. “Hunt a club, each one of you!” he ordered. “Arthur, drop that camera, and lend a hand. We may have to fight for it yet, there’s no telling.”
Apparently Arthur had added another triumph to his already swelling list of wonderful pictures, if that happy grin on his face went for anything. But all the same, he did carefully lay his precious camera down close beside the wounded man, and then look around for a suitable stick that would come under the name of club.
When Hugh had seen that all of them had managed to find some sort of a weapon, he gave the word to move forward. The two queer figures in the faded striped garments were still bending this way and that, apparently so eager not to miss a single object of value from the overturned balloon basket that they were paying little attention to what was passing close by.
No doubt they had sized the situation up before showing themselves, and figured that all they had to contend with were a badly hurt aeronaut and a pack of half-grown lads, who would not dare come to hand-grips with so desperate a pair as themselves.
“Surround them, boys!” Hugh said the last thing. “Billy, you and Bud take to the right, and we’ll hold the left flank. If you have to hit, do it with a vim, remember!”
Of course the two men would never have lingered as long as they did had they suspected that they were in any danger; but the greed for gain was strong upon them; and no doubt they believed they might be able to sell those instruments somewhere and somehow, so as to get money with which to buy clothes that would conceal the fact that they were escaped jailbirds.
On this account, then, the boys were actually able to form a square about them before either of the men noticed what was happening. The wounded aeronaut was trying the best he could to get upon his feet, though what he could do to help, in his present weakened condition, was a mystery.
One of the criminals, catching sight of Billy with his big bludgeon, gave the alarm. Their arms were filled with all sorts of things, for it seemed a sin to neglect a golden opportunity that had come down to them, as it were, from the sky. And while they looked ready to clear out, at the same time they declined to throw down as much as a pair of field glasses.
Every boy started to circulate his club with as fierce an air as he could muster. Perhaps this was done as a method of alarming the convicts, and showing them what they must expect if rash enough to come too near, or if they neglected to fling away what they were carrying off. Then again it may have been that the scouts were getting their muscles into full play; just as a heavy home-run hitter likes to swing two bats around before stepping up to the rubber.
“Drop all that stuff, do you hear?” demanded Hugh as savagely as possible.
“Aw! clear out with you!” snarled one of the men. He was shorter than his companion, and had a gorilla-like face that just then looked to Arthur as though he could gnaw a file, it was so lined with a scowl.
“Yes, clear the track, kids, if you don’t want to get hurted bad!” added the other, who was not so hard looking a specimen.
Perhaps they expected that this would be enough. If so they were doomed to disappointment, because not a boy moved from his tracks. The men hardly knew which way to turn, for whether they faced west, east, north or south there was a whizzing stick cutting all sorts of wonderful figures in the air, and seeming to promise pretty tough treatment, should they try to rush the possessor.
Hugh was wise enough to realize that, given a little time, the two desperate men would manage to outwit himself and comrades. They might have to take a few savage blows, but then no doubt they were quite used to such trifling methods of punishment, after having been in the penitentiary for some time. A furious rush would carry the boys off their feet, and before they could be stopped, doubtless the convicts would be stretching their legs at a tremendous pace, making their escape.
Hugh had a sudden inspiration. He fancied that if there was one thing these bad men had reason to be afraid of it was recapture; because, should that happen, they must expect severe punishment at the hands of the wardens, to whom they had given so much trouble. Why not make out that they, the scouts, were in league with those same officials in blue, whose brass buttons would set the hearts of their former charges in a flutter of fear? He decided it was an idea worth trying.
“Hold them where they are, boys, till the wardens can get here!” the patrol leader called out just as loud as he could; and then, to the astonishment of his comrades, Hugh began to make violent gestures in a certain direction that might mean only one thing, and this, that some persons unseen were being urged to hurry.
That gave the men the first scare they had felt. Up to then, they had considered that they only had to deal with a pack of school-boys, dressed in khaki and campaign hats and leggings, to imitate the National Guard. Now it really began to look as though these Boy Scouts might have come up to this part of the country to help the wardens find the missing convicts; because in these latter days patrols are being found useful in many fields of endeavor.
All the same, they did hate to drop any of that plunder, which might mean so much to them later on if they found a chance to dispose of it. Hugh’s clever stratagem had certainly given them a fright; but it might have failed of its purpose, for the men who wore the striped suits were preparing to hurl themselves against the surrounding line, had not a new actor appeared on the scene.
This was the wounded aeronaut. Weak as he appeared to be, he looked very determined just at that moment. No doubt he did not much fancy seeing a pair of jailbirds run off with all his aerial possessions.
But what astonished Hugh most of all was the fact that the professor, as they had somehow come to call the man who had fallen from aloft, held something in his uninjured right hand which he must have extracted from an inner pocket. It did not make much of a showing, but the sun glinted from the blued steel of a short barrel that could only belong to an automatic, quick-firing weapon.
A daring aeronaut who takes his life in his hand and never knows where he may alight, no doubt learns to put himself in a position so that he can defend himself against possible dangers. And while the boys had been holding up the two thieves, he was, with more or less agony, no doubt, extracting this little “persuader” from its hiding-place and advancing toward the scene of action.
Here was something well calculated to awe the two convicts. They might feel more or less contempt for a few boys, even if armed with wicked-looking cudgels of various shapes and patterns; but the owner of the property they were trying to carry off was another matter, especially when backed up with a dangerous up-to-date weapon of which they, if anybody, should know the value.
“Drop everything you’ve picked up there and clear out, before I open fire on you!” was what the nervy professor told them. And if his voice lacked power on account of what he had recently passed through, surely the fire flashing from his eyes must have told the two miserable men that he was accustomed to having his words obeyed.
Hugh thought he saw a chance to put in a clinching argument just then.
“And be quick about it, too, if you hope to get out of sight before the wardens come up,” he urged, just as though his boyish heart had begun to pity the condition of the hunted wretches. He was looking again and again in the same direction, so that Arthur, yes, and both of the other scouts, actually began to wonder if this was, after all, only a clever piece of acting on his part, or if he really glimpsed several husky fellows in the uniform of prison guards coming on the run.
The men saw that their little game was up. Circumstances had turned out unfavorable to their plan for securing all that valuable plunder, and surely to remain at liberty was the most desirable thing they could now hope for.
First one man flung down something he held, half angrily.
“Easy there!” cried the aeronaut, who was covering them all the while. “Don’t you try to smash what the fall of the balloon spared, or I’ll hold you here prisoners and hand you over to the wardens when they come up. Put the rest down gently; do you hear me?”
They hastened to drop everything they held; and then, fearful lest he might be tempted to carry out his terrible threat, they started on the full run,—“scooted like scared rabbits,” Billy said later. A quick “click” announced that Arthur had scored again with his camera, hastily secured while the runners were yet in full sight.
“Talk to me about luck, I’m having the greatest string of successes you ever heard of!” the enthusiastic photographer laughingly declared, as he saw the others staring hard at him.
“Well, of all the nerve I ever struck, Arthur,” said Billy solemnly, “you certainly take the cake! Why, you’ve got the artistic fever so bad that I believe if a big bear was chasing after us all, you’d want to stop and ask him to look pleasant while you snapped him off. There’s getting to be no limit to your——”
“Just hold on there, Billy,” broke in Hugh. “I think this time Arthur deserves the thanks of the whole Wolf patrol for his stick-at-it-tiveness, as Walter Osborne always calls stubbornness. Think of what a heap of satisfaction it’s going to be to all of us, when we look over some of these thrillers he’s snatched with that snapshot box of his! Leave Arthur alone. While we’re all making history, he’s going to be the one to keep it fresh in our hearts and eyes. We’re proud of him.”
“And I’m wondering, if these pictures turn out anything like the originals,” remarked Bud, “what Don Miller of the Foxes will say. You know he’s been going in strong of late along the same lines as our chum here; and they do say he shows more or less talent about taking queer things. But my stars! he never could even dream of such re-markable stunts as have been crowding in on us of late, commencing with that storm yesterday!”
“Well, Blake Merton has done some good work for the Hawks, too, they tell me,” Arthur admitted, for he was a modest boy and always willing to give a friend credit when it was due. “I know that he’s been staying nights up on his uncle’s farm, just to be able to use a flashlight on the animals in that swamp. I own up that the idea of the thing came to me through him. Blake is all wool and a yard wide; nothing small about him. He said, ‘No matter who wins out, let’s get the greatest lot of queer pictures together that ever were.’”
“And I reckon we will,” declared Billy positively, “as long as you’re able to toddle around with us Wolves, Arthur.”
“I’m wondering what next we’ll run across,” remarked Bud reflectively, as they watched Hugh assisting the wounded aeronaut to gather his scattered traps together. “According to my mind it only needs a runaway horse, with a lovely child to be rescued, or a mad dog scare in town, with our Hugh getting in the limelight as the hero who stands in the breach and knocks the beast on the head with a baseball bat, to complete the whole schedule.”
“Oh! that would be too old-fashioned these days,” said Arthur, as he patted his beloved camera in its leather case, which he had slung by a strap over his shoulder. “To be up-to-date a rescue would have to be where, mounted on a motorcycle, you pursue a runaway car, and jump into it just before it reaches the crossing at the railroad, where a limited express is coming tearing along. I saw one like that at the movies the other night, and it glued me to my seat with both hands holding on to the rests at the sides, until it was over. I don’t believe I could even breathe for excitement.”
“Or else you’d have to chase an unmanageable aeroplane mounted on another sky flier and in some way bring it to a stop, just like the mounted police hold up runaway riding horses in Central Park,” Billy added, for he could be depended on to match one story with another every time.
“But here comes Hugh with the professor,” said Bud just then. “I reckon he has picked up all he wants to tote away with him. However do you think we’ll get to town with him, boys? He must feel pretty weak after what he went through, and his arm must pain him, too. We may have to make a litter and carry him.”
“Well, for one thing, let me tell you he’s got a heap of grit,” said Billy softly, for he did not want the others to hear what he was saying as they came up. “You bet every man that goes up in the clouds has got to be full to the brim of nerve. If we let him rest every little while, you’ll see that he’ll make the riffle, all correct. I’ve sized him up already.”
Hugh and the aeronaut now came up.
“I want to shake hands with each one of you boys,” the gentleman began promptly, “and tell you how much I feel indebted to you all for what you’ve done for me this day. Only for your gallant work, the chances are ten to one I would have lost my life in this hazardous pleasure sailing of mine.”
He went from one to the other, and from the vigorous way he squeezed each hand that was extended to him frankly, it seemed that he must still have considerable stored-up energy left in him.
“Oh! that wasn’t so much, Professor,” Billy said in return. “We’re scouts, you see, and it is one of the rules of the organization never to refuse to put out a helping hand to any one in trouble. I guess it is getting to be a disease with some of us, because we’re on the lookout most of the time for a chance to do something that’ll satisfy a sort of craving to be useful. So if you feel that thanks are due, sir, the whole troop ought to share ’em.”
“The whole troop wasn’t on hand this time to climb trees and lower a poor chap who had a broken arm and would have fallen sixty feet if he worked loose from that crotch,” the gentleman remarked with kindling eyes, as though this modesty on the part of the khaki-clad boys aroused his admiration more than ever. “And if no one had happened to see me meet with my accident, I’m afraid I’d have remained in that treetop until the end came.”
“When you feel like walking, sir,” Hugh told him, “we’ll set out for town. I know of a fine spring of cold water only half a mile away, and you’ll be refreshed after you get a good drink of that.”
“Let me sit here about ten minutes, Hugh,” said the gentleman, and his mention of the young leader’s name showed that he had already asked questions and learned who they all were; “then I think I’ll be equal to the task of starting. Meanwhile, I’ll tell you who I am, and what I was aiming to do with my balloon when I met with a crowning disaster. I also want to hear all about your patrol, and why you came up here on this particular day, when it was fated you should be of such vital assistance to me.”
This suited the boys, for they had a natural curiosity to learn something about the ambitions of a daring aeronaut. Accordingly, they found as comfortable seats as they could, after fixing for Mr. Perkins, as he gave his name, a seat of hemlock browse that was hastily pulled from a neighboring tree.
“In the first place,” said the gentleman, “I’m not a professional aeronaut. That is, I never have made a flight for money, because I have not felt the necessity. But my fancy for such things has been gradually growing into a craze, and possibly my name is among a few who have worked hard to advance the sport of balloon ascents. I’ve taken part in numerous long distance races, and held the record for several years. Yes, they call me Professor, though I hardly deserve the title.”
“I should say you do, if any one could, sir,” observed Hugh, admiringly.
“On this present unfortunate occasion, I have been quietly trying to pass entirely across the continent, from the shore of the Pacific to the Atlantic, by a series of dashes. I’d hardly like to tell you how many failures I made of it, and what a series of thrilling, hair-breadth escapes I had, before I was finally able to cross over the Sierra Nevada and the Rocky Mountains; but I finally managed to do it, and the rest of my journey was like a tame picnic until now, just when I expected to make the coast and was wrecked near port.”
“That was a shame!” burst out Billy impulsively.
“Oh! not at all,” laughed the gentleman, partly to hide the pain he suffered as he chanced to move his broken arm a little too abruptly. “We men who pit ourselves against the forces of Nature, learn to take the good with the bad and call it all a day’s work. I’ve really accomplished what I set out to perform, because only for a change of wind I’d have dropped down on the coast before this hour. You’ll not hear me complain. And now tell me something about yourselves and your Wolf patrol. If the other four members are anything like the ones I’ve come to know, it must be what a friend of mine would call a hummer.”
The boys were already quite won by the genial aeronaut, who, suffering as he was, could show such a deep interest in their affairs.
In the chatter that followed, he learned a great deal about what had happened to the members of the troop since the first patrol was organized. And of course, among other things, he was told of the wonderful prize pennant and the adventures of the preceding day, when Hugh’s thoughtfulness had in all probability saved their lives.
The aeronaut was plainly aroused by the vivid description given of their feelings at discovering that hollow oak lying there, shattered by the bolt of lightning.
“I have not appreciated what a helpful thing this scout movement could be until now,” he exclaimed. “If it continues to spread as fast as it seems to be doing now, I can see where the coming American young man will be many times over better fitted and equipped for the battle of life than those that are in the field to-day, fighting for a living. But it is too bad if my coming causes you boys to go back to town without trying out those cliff-climbing stunts that Hugh had in mind. If you set me on the trail, I’ve no doubt I could follow it, somehow, till I got to the road; and then some farmer would give me a lift.”
This raised an immediate storm of protest, which made evident that the boys did not believe in doing things halfway.
“We couldn’t think of it, Mr. Perkins,” said Hugh resolutely. “You’ve been badly hurt, and we would never forgive ourselves if anything happened to you. Make up your mind that we’re going to see you safely into the doctor’s office, where that arm can have the right kind of attention.”
“Permit me to say, however, my dear boy, that from the way it feels and from the appearance of the splint and the neat bandage you’ve put around it, it would have been hard for any surgeon to improve on the work under such crude conditions as those up here in the woods.”
“So say we all of us, Mr. Perkins!” burst out Billy. “We think our assistant scout master is about right when it comes to first aid to the injured. If you could have seen how he brought one of the boys to, when we all believed he was surely a goner, after being under water so long, you’d understand our feelings. I guess we were ready to stop the artificial pumping to induce respiration, but Hugh ordered us to keep on and on. He would not give up hope. And the boy is alive and kicking, as big as ever to-day. They sent Hugh a medal from Scout Headquarters down in little old New York.”
“He ought to be proud of that medal,” said the gentleman, with considerable feeling. “And you can depend on it that every one of you will be wearing a similar one before long. I happen to know several of the head men who are deeply interested in this scout movement, and I shall see them personally. You have aroused my interest, and I’m feeling inclined to give up the dangerous sport of ballooning for something that will benefit my fellow men more, and this Boy Scout movement strikes me as just what would fill the bill.”
“That makes us feel happier than ever, sir,” said Hugh. “If we have made a new friend for the movement by what we happened to do to-day we shouldn’t ask any better reward.”
“Just leave that to me, Hugh, that is my affair,” said the gentleman, as he made a movement with his well arm to signify that he desired assistance in gaining his feet. “Now I’m feeling rested, and perhaps we had better be making a start. We can do our talking as we move along. I’m hankering after a drink from that cold spring you were telling me about, too.”
They were soon on the way back, though of course the boys had to walk rather slowly, on account of the weak condition of the aeronaut.
“I’ll send some one later to gather up what is left of my faithful balloon,” he told them; “because, though I fancy I’ll never go up again, it must always have pleasant associations for me.”
Hugh, leading the rest, followed the trail closely. Still, he used those eyes of his to wonderful advantage and seemed to see everything that moved around them on the ground, in the air high above, or among the branches of the trees. No chipmunk sprang for its hole at the base of a stump, no squirrel flew like a red or gray streak of light to the opposite side of a tree-trunk, no thrush whirred through a thicket, but that Hugh knew all about it. He had long studied the small birds and animals of these woods, and was well acquainted with their habits and haunts.
After a while they arrived at the cold spring, and when Mr. Perkins had been given a drink of water in a coiled leaf made into a cornucopia cup, he pronounced it “nectar fit for the gods.” The boys considered that it suited them all right, though they would never have thought of describing it that way.
“And let me tell you, son,” said the gentleman to Billy, when the latter had for the fourth time leaned far down and filled the green cup for him to empty, “this clear cold water that bubbles up out of the pure white sand is a thousand times more healthful for us all than anything brewed or distilled by human hands, I care not what it may be. Yes, and although I’ve drunk water from a thousand wells, often in African deserts where it meant life itself, none ever tasted sweeter than this does to me now, taken from a primitive cup made out of a big leaf.”
He lay back to rest a while, and Hugh thought it well not to hurry him. They had another stretch of nearly a mile before the road could be reached, where in case of necessity they could find some farmer who would be willing, for a consideration, to hitch up and carry the gentleman, and, perhaps, Hugh himself, the balance of the way to town.
And as he thus took his ease in the shade of the forest trees, Mr. Perkins presently became interested in watching a little thing that happened. Having just learned how scouts are ever on the watch for ways to do a good turn, either to man or beast or even smaller living creatures, he was beginning to study boy nature as it had never before occurred to him to do, with most pleasant results.
Bud had apparently discovered something that interested him, for he lay on his stomach, boy fashion, with his head held up by his hands and both elbows planted on the ground.
Hugh had also observed his attitude, for presently he called out:
“What have you struck there, Bud, that makes you forget you’ve got three good chums close at hand? I’ve asked you a question several times, and you have never so much as given me an answer.”
“Oh! excuse me, Chief,” replied Bud, without even turning his head or changing his attitude the least bit; “you see, I’ve been watching about as game an exhibition of pluck and determination as you’d ever expect to find anywhere; and when I am stuck fast on anything like that, I’m next door to deaf.”
“What might it be?” asked Arthur, busy with his camera strap, which he was shortening to rid it of a worn place.
Mr. Perkins knew, for he chanced to be close enough to discover what it was at which Bud was gaping with eager eyes.
“Why, you see,” remarked the other scout, just as if it might be the most natural thing in the world for him to show such an interest in small things about him, “it is one of those big black ants. He has a pack about three times as large as himself, which he wants to carry up a sand hill about six inches high that leads to his home, I guess. And I’ve counted eleven times now that he has made a balk of it.”
“Whee! that’s going some,” admitted Billy, showing a certain amount of interest. “And he doesn’t like to give up, does he, Bud? He is like some fellows I know.”
“Give up? Why, that ant never will quit trying!” was the enthusiastic reply. “Every time he misses connections, and then ant and pack roll down to the very bottom again. But he holds on like grim death to his prize, which, I take it, must be the biggest dinner he ever tried to tote home, and he’s some proud of it.”
“What else does he do?” asked Hugh, smiling at the gentleman, who had looked toward him and nodded.
“Why, he lets go and runs around the pack to see what’s the matter,” continued Bud. “Then he just grabs hold once more and starts up the old track. Mebbe he’s been doing that same thing all morning. Blamed if I can stand it to go away and never know that he did get up in the end! Here, you poor, game little runt, I’m just going to lift both you and the prize pack to the top of the heap, hanged if I’m not!”
And picking up a strong leaf, he proceeded to do as he said, after which he gave a satisfied chuckle and muttered:
“Run out of sight like you was scared, did you? But I guess you’ll come back after your prize, and it’ll please you to find that it’s up on top. But you deserve all you got, that’s right; and I’m glad to help you.”
Mr. Perkins drew in a long breath. There was a look on his face that expressed volumes as he watched Bud getting ready to shoulder some of his traps. No doubt this trifling exhibition of the interest a boy could take in the small things around him, and the sympathy that game little ant’s actions had aroused in one who was naturally as heedless as most boys, determined the gentleman more than ever to investigate the movement that could cause such a happy condition of mind.
They were soon on the move again. If Mr. Perkins felt pain or weakness, he managed skillfully to conceal the fact from his young friends, for he kept up a running fire of talk all the while they were tramping along the trail.
Hugh guessed that he must be suffering, and as if incidentally, he would every little while mention the fact that they were getting closer to the road. Finally he pointed out the place where they would strike it, and added:
“There is a farm just a little way below, sir,—near where we left our wheels this afternoon,—and I know Mr. Appleby pretty well. If he is at home, we’ll be able to get him to drive you to town, all right.”
“I think I’m getting along marvelously, Hugh,” the wounded man replied, “though a cup of warm coffee right now would brace me up very much. It always acts as a stimulant with me, you know, as I use nothing stronger, and that only in moderation.”
“I’m sorry, then, we didn’t happen to have any,” Hugh told him; “but Mrs. Appleby will be only too glad to brew you a pot.”
“If you had happened in on our troop when we were camping,” Bud asserted proudly, “you would say we knew how to make the best coffee ever.”
“Well, here’s the road just ahead,” said Hugh; “and we may be lucky enough to have some one overtake us with a rig.”
“There’s one coming from town,” declared sharp-eyed Billy; “but that’s the wrong direction. Why, what’s this? Do my eyes deceive me, or is it our brave police force coming in that rig? I see blue coats and shiny brass buttons!”
“No, they’re strangers to me,” Hugh told him after a look. “I wonder if they can have anything to do with those two men in stripes?”
“Ginger! you’re right!” ejaculated Billy. “Why, these parties must be wardens from the penitentiary, out looking for the escaped convicts. Say, what ought we to do about it, Hugh? Would it be fair to tell on the poor wretches?”
Hugh considered a brief time, and then remarked:
“If they ask us questions, we will be bound to answer, and so tell them that we have seen their men. And from the style of those two fellows, I rather think the good people around here will be better off if they’re shut up again. That short one looked as if he wouldn’t mind smashing open a country bank.”
“He was hungry enough looking, seemed to me,” Bud broke in, “to burglarize a hen-roost or a smokehouse first. The bluecoats are slowing up, so I guess they mean to ask us square up and down if we know anything about stripes.”
In another minute they were halting alongside the vehicle which contained two athletic-looking men with strong faces, who were apparently well fitted for dealing with desperate characters.
“Howdy, boys, and you, sir!” said one of the officials. “Now, I don’t suppose you’ve seen anything of a precious pair of escaped convicts around this section of country? We’ve traced ’em this far, and we’ve got a hound in the back of the rig here that can run a trail, if only he gets a start; but we want to find their tracks first.”
“Why yes, we can tell you where they were about an hour or so back,” said Hugh; and then as rapidly as he could he narrated how the two rascals had tried to steal the valuable instruments of the wrecked aeronaut they had been rescuing.
“I noticed, too, that one of the men had lost his cap, and you’ll find it lying there under a tree,” Hugh finished. “That will do for your hound to sniff, so as to get the scent he needs. And I hope you’ll cage the fellows again, because they look like hard cases.”
The men asked a few more questions, and then proceeded to tie their horse to a tree back a little from the road. Hugh was tempted to ask the loan of the rig, with a promise that it would be returned in an hour. But as the farmhouse was now only a short distance away and as Mr. Perkins needed some sort of stimulant to sustain him through the remainder of the trip, he concluded that he had better not.
The last they saw of those officers, they were hurrying along the trail that would take them past the spring, and up to the spot where the stranded balloon told the tale of the wreck and rescue.
Five minutes later the little party arrived at Farmer Appleby’s place. He was in the field, but the good woman of the house sent a child out to call him, meanwhile starting to brew a pot of strong coffee and setting a table, after the generous way of farmers’ wives.
Mr. Appleby immediately consented to hitch up his team and take the injured man into town, nor would he hear of being paid for such a little service.
The boys managed to eat more or less of the good things put before them, while first one and then another of the party told the story of the balloonist’s rescue. And then, as Mr. Perkins declared himself feeling fit to make the last run of the journey to a doctor, the scouts went back for the hidden wheels,—all but Hugh, who sat up on the driver’s seat with the wounded aeronaut between himself and Mr. Appleby.
At Hugh’s request the farmer promised to keep the secret of the rescue, for the leader, having reasons of his own, did not want it known just yet.
In due time they arrived at the doctor’s place, where they had to wait half an hour until he came back from his afternoon round. When he arrived and unwound the bandage from the wounded man’s arm and examined what Hugh had done, listening the while to what Mr. Perkins was telling him of his adventure, the doctor turned to Hugh and said to him, with a sparkle in his eyes:
“Let me tell you, my boy, you’ll make the mistake of your life if you choose any other profession than that of surgeon. You’ve got a great future there.”
On the day of the field tests between the selected members of each patrol among the scouts, there was a large attendance of friends to witness the fun. While every boy and girl in town seemed to have come out to the baseball green, there were also many grown-ups on hand, curious to see what the scouts would do in their ambition to win certain “points.”
Mr. Perkins, the aeronaut, still lingered in town. That his arm was in a sling did not prevent his taking the liveliest kind of interest in the outcome of the prize banner contest. He had made certain that his rescue was known in influential circles, and was quite satisfied that Hugh and his fellows of the Wolf patrol were sure to win the prize, notwithstanding the field tests yet to be tried.
Besides, his interest had been so thoroughly aroused that he was more determined than ever to devote time and attention to scout matters. And with this resolution, where could he find a better field to learn facts than right among those lads with whom he had become acquainted in such a remarkable fashion?
The committee, consisting of several of the ministers and others who had the best interests of the boys at heart, was early on hand to make final arrangements in conjunction with Hugh. It happened, unfortunately, that the regular Scout Master had been called away from town on important business. Hugh had to act in his stead, which made it rather hard for him, as he had his share in the various contests as well.
The program of events covered about all the activities of scouts in general, as practiced in the open.
There were competitions in tent-raising and taking down, with points for rapidity and general cleverness in carrying through this important feature of camping.
Then came the equally interesting water-boiling tests, where the contestants were each supplied with just the same number of good matches, three, in fact, apiece, and at a given signal were supposed to hasten to some point near at hand, where dead wood could be secured under the trees, start a fire, and have a pint of cold water brought to a boil ahead of all the others.
That was a very exciting scene, with nervous boys hurrying to the brook, filling their little stewpans, and getting back to make a fire, without being allowed a shred of paper for a starter.
One managed to knock over his supply of water and had to go all the way back to replenish it; and then the feeble little blaze he had coaxed to burn had fluttered out, calling for new exertions and more anxiety.
Another used up his supply of matches, and then had to sit there watching some of the rest getting right along with their work.
When the victory in this contest came to the Wolf boys, it must have been a popular decision, to judge from the cheers that rang out.
There were athletic rivalries, too, more in the way of running than any other thing, because that savored of the old time Indian life, and after all many of the pursuits encouraged by the scout movement hinge on just those things primitive man must have occupied himself with doing, long years ago, when only the red race occupied this broad land.
The signaling tests were very fine, and excited much comment among all who witnessed them. Some of the boys showed a remarkable skill in transmitting messages that had been arranged by the committee, and which were, of course, utterly unknown to any of the contestants until given, a new one every time, to each patrol.
It was a close race in this affair. Bud Morgan had once worked with a surveying party, and Blake Merton was a good second to him in relaying; but Sam Winter of the Otters proved himself a marvel for speed and accuracy, and in the end gained the victory for Alec Sands and his fellows.
When it came to camp cookery, there were some queer things done that must have greatly amused the many girls present. They crowded around the amateur cooks and seemed to be enjoying it very much, if their merry peals of laughter stood for anything. And yet, after all, the flapjacks that took the prize were pretty fair pancakes, not very heavy, and just suited to a hungry boy’s appetite—when out in camp, not at home.
Other contests there were, lots of them, and one of the most comical was the human fish game. They had to have plenty of water for this, because a good strong swimmer of a rival patrol was always chosen to play the part of the fish, the end of the line being made fast around his chest.
The game, of course, was for the one who held the stout rod to tire the swimmer out through superior tactics, until he could reel him to a certain point, from which the other would do all he could to escape.
Well were the Otters named, it seemed, for they certainly carried off more than their share of the water games. Alec Sands appeared to be very well pleased with the way things were turning out. He went around from time to time with a broad grin on his face, and had a knowing wink for all of his friends whenever he chanced to meet them. It was as much as saying that the whole affair was a walkover for the Otters, who were far superior to any other patrol in the troop.
Whenever Hugh had to exercise his authority as acting scout master, Alec’s face took on a sneering look. Billy observed this several times, and he was fully convinced that the smart leader of the Otter patrol had once more allowed the spirit of envy to eat into his heart.
“He’s sore because we elected Hugh to fill the place of the assistant scout master instead of him,” he told Bud, as they prepared for the tracking game, in which they felt sure the Wolf boys would come out ahead, thanks to the knowledge Hugh had along these lines.
“I wouldn’t be much surprised if what you say turns out to be so, Billy,” was the other’s reply; “and it’s a burning shame, too, because he’s a really clever scout, only for that failing.”
Billy heaved a sigh.
“It seems as though we all have a failing of some kind,” he lamented. “They say that with me it’s a propensity to eat too much,—that’s the word my father uses to explain it,—so I reckon that is my weak spot; but let me tell you privately, Bud, I’m not straining myself trying to reform.”
“But how do you think we’re going to come out of these contests?” asked Bud. “The Otters had a regular cinch on points this afternoon. They’ve certainly worked hard enough, and I give them credit for all they’ve done.”
“Oh! we’ll just walk away with the tracking contests, and that will help boost our count some,” Billy confidently told him. “Besides, what’s the use of worrying over things and losing your appetite?”
“It’s a pity they didn’t have an eating contest, Billy,” laughed Bud. “We all know who can lead the troop there.”
“Those flapjacks did smell mighty good to me, Bud; and I had a couple on the sly!”