CHAPTER XIII. THE ENEMY'S MOVE.
Rob Blake was sitting on the porch of his home in Hampton. In his handwas a book on Woodcraft. But he was not just now devoting his attentionto the volume. Instead he let it hang idly from one hand while he gazedup through the maple tops and dreamed of many things. As Rob himselfwould have put it, the "spring was in his blood." More strongly thanusual that morning he felt the "red gods calling."
Suddenly two hands were thrown over his eyes from behind and a voicecried:
"Surrender, you leader of the Eagles! That's one time you're caughtnapping."
"Tubby!" exclaimed Rob, springing up and facing round.
"How in the world did you get in?" he asked the next minute. "I neverheard you coming, and----"
He broke off with a laugh as his eyes fell on a big section of apple piewith one crescent-shaped bite missing, that the fat boy was regardingaffectionately.
"Oh, I see. The back door, eh?" he inquired.
"Ye-es," drawled Tubby, "and I must say your cook makes good pie and isinclined to look favorably on a starving Scout."
"Starving! Why, it's not two hours since breakfast!"
"Well, two hours is a long time--sometimes," mumbled Tubby, who had takenanother bite while Rob was speaking.
"What news from the Academy, Tubby?"
"Haven't you heard? They haven't been able to find another building bigenough to house the scholars, so I guess it's a holiday till thebeginning of September for all of us," cried Tubby with shining eyes."Hullo, what's that? A Latin grammar?"
He picked up a volume that lay on an adjoining chair. He regarded itattentively for a few seconds and then flung it forth into the gardenwhere it landed in a rose bush.
"Let it lie there till September," he chuckled. "Well, how are youanyhow, old fellow?" he rattled on. "It's a week since the fire and youought to be feeling fit again."
"Never felt better in my life, although I was knocked out quite a bit;but you see I've had very good care, and----"
"Oh yes, Lucy Mainwaring has been to see you--once or twice, hasn't she?"and Tubby, with an air of apparent abstraction, fell to studying a whitecloud that happened to be drifting by far above them. Suddenly he facedabout with a mischievous laugh.
"You looked sort of pale when I came in, Rob," he chuckled, "but you'vegot plenty of color now."
Rob, boy-like, looked embarrassed and changed the subject ratherabruptly.
"Everything fixed for that meeting at headquarters to-night?" he asked.
A rather odd look passed over the fat boy's face.
"Oh yes, it's all ready," he said with rather a marked emphasis on thewords.
"Good; you and Merritt must have worked hard."
"We've all taken our part. The hall looks bully. It'll be dandy to haveyou around again."
The meeting the boys referred to was the regular weekly meeting of thepatrol. But when Rob reached the hall above the bank that night he feltrather astonished to find that chairs and stools had been arranged allover the spacious hall, and that decorations consisting of the Stars andStripes and the Eagle Patrol flags were strung everywhere. Off the mainhall opened the Scouts' gymnasium and general store room. In this roomRob found his Scouts assembled. They greeted him with a cheer as heappeared. Rob began to feel uneasy. He hated anything like that, but hetook the congratulations that were showered upon him in the spirit inwhich they were offered.
When he found an opportunity he drew Merritt aside.
"What are all the chairs arranged outside for?" he asked suspiciously.
"Oh, just so that the folks can see what we've been doing with our timeduring the winter," was the reply. "We've arranged some single stickbouts and an exhibition drill and so on--you don't mind, do you?"
"No, it's a fine idea," declared Rob warmly. "How soon will thecompany--audience I mean--arrive?"
"Guess they're beginning to come now," said Merritt as the sound of feettramping into the hall became audible.
"Better send out Walter and Martin to act as ushers, hadn't you?"
"Yes, I guess so," and Merritt hastened off to dispatch the two secondclass Scouts referred to.
The hall filled rapidly. In the front rows Rob could see his parents andbeside them Commodore Wingate, the scout master of the district, and theparents of most of the boys. The other chairs were filled with villagersand all at once--Rob's heart beat rather quicker--down the aisle came theMainwaring party. They took the three seats which had been apparentlyreserved for them close to Rob's parents.
Little Andy Bowles, who arrived late, came into the gym in a state ofhigh excitement.
Like most of the other scouts he had come in by the back stairway whichled directly into the gym. He came straight up to Rob.
"Say," he exclaimed, after he had given the scout salute andcongratulated his leader, "say, who do you think are hanging aboutoutside?"
"No idea," rejoined Rob.
"Why, Hodge Berry and Max Ramsay and some of that bunch. They pretendednot to notice me, but I'm sure they're up to some mischief. I could tellthat by the way they sneaked off when they saw me."
"I don't see what harm they can do us," rejoined Rob, "although I don'tdoubt they'd like to work off some mean trick. Run along and put on yourbest uniform, Andy, you're late."
Everyone of note in Hampton was in the hall by this time, and whenCommodore Wingate arose to make a preliminary address he was warmlyapplauded. He dwelt at some length on the new spirit that the Boy Scoutshad brought into Hampton, and explained that while some misinformedpersons appeared to think that the scout movement was a warlike one, itwas in reality a great influence for peace. He reviewed the work of theEagles for the past year and enumerated at some length the variousservices they had done in the village. These included the clearing up andbeautifying of vacant lots, the aiding of indigent or poor people, manylittle acts of kindness and help, and the setting generally of a goodexample to the youth of the town and neighborhood.
"But," he went on to say, after an impressive pause, "it remained for thewell-remembered night of the Academy fire to bring into notice the twomost conspicuous acts of heroism the scouts have yet performed.
"I doubt if the annals of the Boy Scouts of any country show two morenoble, self-sacrificing acts than those performed on that night by LeaderRob Blake of the Eagles,"--here such loud applause broke out that thespeaker was compelled to pause for some minutes. When quiet was restoredhe went on, "and Merritt Crawford, his able lieutenant." More applause.
While this was going on Rob was shaking his fist at Merritt indignantly.Modest as most true heroes, he had, of course, already quietly receivedthe thanks of the janitor's wife and the man himself for his daringrescue and hoped that the matter would end there. But this publicacknowledgment was too much for him. As for Merritt, he was chuckling fora minute, but as his own name was announced he turned a fiery red andcried out in a voice that was audible to the front rows:
"Commodore, I thought you were going to leave me out!"
This caused a great laugh among those who heard it, and Rob feltrevenged. But the worst ordeal for the two boys still was ahead of them.Above the din of applause that greeted the close of Mr. Wingate's speech,they heard that gentleman cry for silence. When quiet was restored heturned around toward the gymnasium door and cried:
"I now ask Rob Blake and Merritt Crawford to come forward and receive aslight token of esteem from their fellow townsmen."
"Go on!" cried the Scouts behind Rob and Merritt, under cover of avigorous salvo of hand-clapping.
There was no use hanging back, and Rob and Merritt, looking very ill atease, stepped out before the crowd. If the applause had been loud beforeit was terrific then. The hall fairly shook under it. Timid folks glancedupward at the roof to make sure it was not going to be blown off byenthusiasm. But at last, from sheer weariness, even the most vigorousapplauders ceased. Then came a cry in a stentorian voice, traced to theforeman of the
Fire Vigilants.
"Three cheers for Rob Blake and Merritt Crawford!"
"Second the motion!" came a tempest of cries from all parts of the hall.
Commodore Wingate drew from his coat tail pockets two velvet boxes. Heopened them and in each there lay, glittering on a bed of purple plush,two miniature firemen's helmets of solid gold set with diamonds. On theback of each was inscribed: "From a grateful community to a Boy Scouthero." Then followed the date, the name of the boy receiving the gift andthe village seal. Stepping forward the Scout Master pinned to the breastof each lad the gleaming trophies which would ever be among theirproudest possessions.
In the fresh applause that followed there were a few who did not join.These were Max Ramsay, Hodge Berry and their cronies, all of whomcordially disliked the Boy Scouts and hated to see them the idols of thevillage. While the applause was still sounding in lusty salvoes theyslipped out with mischievous looks on their faces. Perhaps Andy Bowles'guess that they were up to some prank designed to work harm to the BoyScouts was not so far from the mark.
To relate in detail all that took place that evening would occupy toomuch space. Suffice it to say that the drills and exercises went off witha snap, and that some of the games played proved full of laughter andmerriment. As the audience filed out, more than one former lukewarmcitizen was heard to remark that the Boy Scout organization was a "mightyfine thing for lads, and that the Eagles in particular not only shonethemselves, but reflected credit on their home town."
But with the departure of the crowd, all was not over. For some time, theboys' gym buzzed with chat and laughter. Naturally, Rob and Merritt werethe centers of attraction, and the two gold, diamond-studded helmets werehanded about till it seemed that they must actually wear out fromconstant handling! At last it was too late to delay their departure forhome any longer. When the impromptu meeting did finally break up,however, every fellow belonging to the Eagles felt deep down in his heartthat their organization, despite criticism and even open enmity, hadproved its right to exist, and, what was more, had even proved itsnecessity in raising ideals and standards among the lads of thecommunity.
"We'll march out, fellows," declared Rob, "and as each chap's home orcorner is reached he can fall out of the ranks."
"Good idea," was the cry, and then:
"Fall in! Fall in!" shouted Merritt.
"Lights out," was the next order and the pushing of the electric lightswitch plunged the place into darkness.
"March!" and off they went, two by two, each Scout marching as smartly asa trained veteran.
Outside, on the landing, it was very dark. The blackness was made, so tospeak, doubly black by the fact that they had just been in a brilliantlylighted room.
"Look out for the steps, boys! They're steep!" warned Rob, as hisdetachment of young Scouts marched downward.
Hardly had he spoken when the two lads marching in front, Hiram and Paul,gave a stumble and a yell. The next instant they rolled down the steepstairway to the street. Before they could take advantage of the warning,three more pairs, including Merritt, had likewise executed a bob forwardand gone toppling down the staircase to the sidewalk. They all landed ina heap.
"Look out there! The steps have been soaped!" Rob had just time to callout and save the rest from disaster.
The light from a street lamp gave a feeble gleam on the struggling groupbelow. The rest of the boys, huddled for a moment above, by exercisinggreat care, managed to get over the well-soaped and slippery stepswithout coming to grief. One of them was Andy Bowles.
"I just thought that Max Ramsay and Hodge Berry and their bunch were upto some tricks when I saw them round here, and I guess I was right, too.How about it, Rob?"
"I'm inclined to think you were," responded Bob. "How are you, fellows?All right?" he asked as the downfallen Scouts picked themselves up.
"All present and accounted for," declared Merritt, as they all stood up,vigorously brushing dust and dirt from their trig uniforms, "except for afew bruises I guess we're all right."
"Hark!" cried Hiram suddenly, "what's that?"
From somewhere near by, possibly from some bushes that grew further downthe street came the sound of suppressed giggling and cat-calls. There wasno doubt as to what excited the merriment of the unseen scoffers, nor wasthere, in fact, any difficulty in guessing their identity.
Rob hardly knew whether to laugh or be angry. Others of the Patrol had nosuch hesitancy.
"It's that Max Ramsay crowd," shouted Tubby angrily. "Come out here ifyou're not cowards."
A sound of scuffling and retreating footsteps followed this challenge.
"There they go," shouted Hiram, "the sneaks!"
"Let's capture some of them and make them pay dearly for those soapystairs!" shouted Paul.
"What about it, Rob?" asked Merritt anxiously.
But Rob shook his head.
"Let them go," he said. "None of us are hurt, and if they are mean enoughto find satisfaction in such tricks, let them."
"Well, I'll take it out of them for this skinned ankle sooner or later,"declared Tubby, hopping about and nursing the injured member.
"Same here," came from one or two of the Scouts angrily. "They won't getaway with anything like that."
"Humph! I've just recollected," said Tubby suddenly. "There's some ruleor other that says Scouts mustn't fight."
Rob was instantly appealed to by half a dozen anxious voices owned by thevictims of the soapy stairs.
"Well," he said, "of course no Scout is supposed to engage in fisticuffsexcept in actual self-defense; but--well I guess there's a limit."
"And it's been reached," muttered Tubby vindictively.
"Fall in!" cried Rob.
"Humph! I just fell down," grunted Tubby.
And then, without more discussion of the mean trick that had been playedthem, the Scouts marched off. After that glorious evening they all feltthat they could well afford to ignore such contemptible pranks as thoseof Max Ramsay and his crowd.
As for Rob and Merritt, proud as they felt of the honor that had beenpaid them that night, they somehow could not help valuing even morehighly the quiet thanks that had come to them from full hearts before thepublic demonstration had been thought of. It is a Scout's duty to do hiswork without hope of reward, save that which comes from a sense of workwell done, which, after all, is the best reward and the most enduringthat any boy, or man, either, for that matter, can have.
The Boy Scouts at the Panama Canal Page 13
