CHAPTER XXI -- Call For Help
On the evening of one Thursday in August, Scout Master Hall and themembers of the three patrols composing the troop of Boy Scouts werelounging on the piazza of the bungalow or clubhouse which stands on theshore of Gosling Lake in Southern Maine. It was the day succeeding thedeparture of George Burton and his bloodhound Zip.
The hours had been busy ones for our young friends. There had beenfishing, strolls through the woods, investigation of the different kindsof trees, the study of birds, besides a "deer hunt." I hasten to saythat this was not a real hunt, a dummy being used with bows and arrowsas weapons. This is one of the most popular forms of amusements amongBoy Scouts, who enjoy it to the full.
So when the youths came back to headquarters, they brought keenappetites, overflowing spirits and healthy tired bodies. The gatheringon the piazza was a pleasing reunion of all the members. There wereexperiences to be told, good natured chaffing, the laying of plans forthe morrow, and now and then Mike Murphy, in answer to the unanimousdemand, sang for them. As I have already said, this remarkable youth,despite his unrestrainable waggery, would never sing anything of afrivolous or "rag time" nature, but inclined to sentimental or religiousthemes. When that marvelous voice of his, like the notes of aStradivarius violin in the hands of Ole Bull, or Spohr, or Kubelik, waswafted across the placid lake, it was easy to believe the story of thesirens of Lorelei.
Thus the party was grouped on the night I have named, and the hum andchatter of conversation was at its height, when Scout Master Hallexclaimed:
"Look!"
Every voice was instantly hushed. In the gloom the leader's arm which hehad instinctively extended could not be seen, but naturally all who werenot already looking out upon the water did so. Every one was in time tosee a swift ascending rocket turn and break into a shower of sparks asit dived downward again.
It was still in sight when a second whirred upward for two hundred feetor more, leaving a streaming, dazzling trail as it circled over,exploded and the stick plunged downward in the darkness.
Every one held his breath. Most of them rose and stared. It might bethat the physician was sending up the rockets to amuse his daughter. Ifthere were only two, they would mean nothing more; if there wasanother----
"There it is!" gasped Scout Master Hall; "something is wrong at DoctorSpellman's!"
It was the signal which had been agreed upon in the event of theirfriend finding himself in urgent need of help.
It seemed as if several minutes passed before, through the tomb-likehush, stole a faint popping sound,--the report of the explosion endingits journey across the lake.
The dull, almost inaudible call acted as if it were a bugle blast. Thewhole party dashed off the porch and at headlong speed to the two canoesdrawn upon the beach. Even Jack Crandall swung to the steps, and debateda moment whether he should not join the party of rescue, but his commonsense told him he would be only a hindrance, and he reluctantly stayedbehind and watched the shadowy forms of his friends as shown in the stargleam, the moon not yet having risen.
"He has called for us," said Scout Master Hall, "and there isn't aminute to lose!"
Standing on the edge of the lake he gave his commands as coolly as anofficer marshaling his forces for a charge. In a twinkling the two boatswere afloat in the deep water which came close to the bank.
"There are twenty-one of us; each canoe will carry no more than eight;the other five must hurry along the shore to the doctor's house."
The lads stood breathless, waiting for the leader to name those who mustwalk. He promptly did so:
"Isaac Rothstein, Hoke Butler, Gerald Hume, Arthur Mitchell, GordonCalhoun."
It was a keen disappointment to the five, but there was not a murmur.
"Come on, boys," called Hoke; "if we do our best we shall not be farbehind them."
His long legs carried him at a pace that made it hard for the others toequal. In Indian file the procession, with him in the lead, loped alongthe beach and was speedily swallowed up in the obscurity.
The crews of the canoes worked like beavers. In a twinkling the boys hadadjusted themselves and in each boat the two who were handiest with thepaddles plyed them vigorously. Scout Master Hall was seated in the sternof one, among his companions being Mike Murphy, Alvin Landon and ChesterHaynes.
At the moment the two craft put out from shore, Mike Murphy repeated theexclamation--
"Look!"
The startling performance of a few minutes before was repeated. One,two, three rockets streamed upward in the heavens, curved over, explodedand plunged downward among the trees.
"What can be the trouble?" was the question which everyone of therescuers asked himself, as the oarsmen threw their energies into thetask, and sent the heavily-laden craft with the utmost speed across thelake toward the home of their friend.
Alvin and Chester swung the paddles in their canoe, which speedilyassumed a slight lead. There was little or no conversation, but each BoyScout was busy with his thoughts, and burning with curiosity to learnthe cause of the strange night call across the lake. Since every oneknew of the doings of the two tramps, who had been lurking in thevicinity for several days and had been seen the previous afternoon, itwas natural that suspicion should turn to them.
And yet it was hard to imagine a situation in which so plucky a man asDoctor Spellman, who owned a revolver and a repeating rifle, would haveany fear of two unarmed vagrants. Impulsive by nature, and alreadyresentful toward them, he would stand no nonsense at their hands.
And for a third time were three signal rockets sent streaming aloft,before the canoes had passed half the distance between the bungalow andthe home of the physician. The urgency of the summons filled all withanguish. Mike and the Patrol Leader offered to relieve Alvin and Chesterwith the paddles, but they would not listen and bent resolutely to theirtask. The other canoe had pulled up alongside, and the two kept abreastwith barely ten feet separating them.
The cause of the call of distress was revealed with startling suddennessand before the craft reached land. Through the gloom, Mike Murphy caughtthe vague outlines of a man and woman on the beach, and he shouted:
"What's the matter, docther?"
The reply of itself was a partial answer:
"Is Ruth at the bungalow?"
"She hasn't been there since ye brought her over the other day."
"Then heaven save us! she is lost."
It was the mother who uttered this wail, as she convulsively clasped herhands and walked distractedly to and fro.
The boys leaped out of the boats and gathered round the grief-smittencouple.
"Tell us what this means," said Scout Master Hall, as he sympatheticallyclasped the hand of the physician, who spoke with rare self-command,though his wife began sobbing as if her heart was broken:
"We did not miss her until about an hour ago; I sat in front of thehouse smoking and talking with wife, when she remarked that it was timeRuth was in bed. I called to her, but there was no answer. Thinking shehad fallen asleep inside, I lighted a match and looked around, wifejoining me. A brief search showed she was not there. We hurried outside,and I shouted again.
"By that time we were in an agony of distress and wife was suresomething dreadful had happened to her. As soon as we could command ourwits we found that neither of us had seen her for nearly two hours andthe thought struck us both that she had wandered off to the bungalow. Ifshe had kept along the beach and walked steadily she would have had timeto reach you, but there are so many other awful chances that I dared nottrust to that, so I appealed to you."
"And you did right; there is nothing that is possible for us to do thatwe will not do," was the response of Scout Master Hall.
"She may still be wandering along the beach on her way to the bungalow."
"Five of our boys are hurrying over the same course to this point, andwill be sure to meet and bring her home."
"Unless she has strayed off in the woods and been lo
st."
"Let us hope that such is the fact, for then she will be safe and sufferonly slight inconveniences."
"Oh, it is worse than that," moaned the mother, still pacing to and froand wringing her hands; "she has fallen into the lake and been drowned."
"I cannot believe that," said the Scout Master, following the remarkwith such tactful assurances that the mother regained a part of herself-command, to the extent even of feeling a faint hope that all waswell with her child.
The conduct of the youths was admirable. When they spoke it was inwhispers and undertones, but every heart was filled with the sincerestpity, and all were eager to do everything they could for the smittenparents.
The Boy Scout does not content himself with words: his mission is to doa good turn, and where every minute was beyond value none was thrownaway.
Scout Master Hall assumed charge. He directed six of the boys to takethe back trail, as it might be called,--that is, around the eastern endof the lake to the bungalow. This would insure their meeting Hoke Butlerand his companions, who in turn would meet the missing child if she hadwandered over the same route. The six to whom this task was entrustedwere under the charge of Mike Murphy.
The same number of boys were ordered to follow the oppositedirection,--that is, to skirt the lake to the westward,--each of the twosearching parties to keep it up until they came together at thebungalow. This arrangement left four Boy Scouts, including Mr. Hall andnot mentioning the father and mother. The leader proposed that he, oneof the lads and the parents should separate, plunge into the woods andpursue the hunt independently of one another. Since for a time thesearch must be a blind one this plan was as good as any that could besuggested.
The Scout Master took Alvin and Chester aside.
"I have selected you for a special work," he said. "You are fleet offoot, cool-headed and have good judgment. The doctor has made noreference to those tramps, and yet I know he suspects they have stolenRuth, and intend to hold her for ransom. I believe it is either that, orshe has wandered off and fallen asleep in the woods,--with thepossibility that she is drowned.
"I want you to make your way as quickly as you can to the little town ofBovil, where I think there is a telephone. If the tramps have kidnappedthe Sunbeam, they will try to get out of the neighborhood. Telephone tothe officers at Boothbay Harbor and other points, and get word to Burtonat Mouse Island as soon as possible, and ask him to make all haste herewith Zip. He'll do it."
The Boy Patrol Around the Council Fire Page 21
