THE ACCUSATION
If one of the three scouts entertained doubts as to the hostility of the
mob that came running along the country road, these were quickly
dispelled. In another minute the car was surrounded by an angry crowd. A
dozen voices shrilled at them, and sticks were shaken in their faces.
“Stand back, everybody!” shouted a burly man, who seemed to be invested
with more or less authority. “I’m the sheriff of this county, it
happens, and I don’t allow any interference with my business. Three of
my posse being present, I call on them to stand by me. The rest of you
hold your peace. I’ll do what talking is necessary.”
Hugh was glad to know this. He could deal with, a single individual,
where it was utterly impossible in the case of an excitable mob. So Hugh
hastened to speak up, addressing his remarks to the man of authority.
“Will you kindly tell us what all the row is about?” he asked,
pleasantly. “We are heading for the camp where the State militia is
mobilizing, and, discovering this bridge afire, worked with all our
might to put out the flames. If you look at those dirty cloths lying
there, you’ll find that they were once lap-robes. We soaked them in the
water, and slapped the flames out as we were trained to do in fighting a
forest fire.”
A few of the villagers may have been impressed with the words spoken by
Hugh, as well as his manly bearing; but they were vastly in the
minority. Most of those present were so worked up by anger that they
seemed blind to the facts.
“Don’t believe him, Sheriff,” urged one man, venomously; “he’s only
lying. All boys’ll lie whenever they get a chanct. I know these here
scouts, how they like to strut around like heroes. And, Sheriff, you c’n
depend on it they set fire to our bridge just a purpose to make believe
they did a big thing whipping the flames out.”
“That’s what he told us they’d like enough say,” called out another man,
whose small face and vinegary looks told of a mind that was below the
mediocre. “He says he saw ’em running around like they was pourin’
something on the sides of the bridge from a bottle. Say, I kin smell
coal oil, by Jimminy crickets; if I can’t now.”
“Lock the young rascals up, Sheriff!”
“Larn ’em a lesson they’ll never forget. ’Cordin’ to my mind, there’s a
heap too much talk nowadays ’bout boys doin’ great stunts. It’s jest
upsot a lot o’ ’em, so they’re lookin’ around all the time for ways to
make people think they’re jest like little David when he knocked over
that Goliath chap long ago.”
So several other men had their say. Hugh listened to it all, and waited
for an opportunity to get a chance to explain. He knew that he must
depend on the sheriff, and so he kept him in mind when he finally
started in to speak.
“Please listen to me, Mr. Sheriff,” he began to say, impressively. “We
belong in the town of Oakvale, where you’ll find, if you telephone the
Chief of Police, that our reputation is gilt-edged. We are on our way to
the big camp over beyond the hills yonder, where Battery K, from
Oakvale, is located. We have very important business with one of the
members, who is a cousin of this boy here. It will cost him his
inheritance if we are unable to talk with him by tomorrow. There is a
man whose interest it is to keep us from doing this. He has tried
through an agent of his in a number of ways to hold us back; and, if you
wish, I would take pleasure in telling you all about these things. Sir,
we have good reason to believe that this setting fire to your bridge was
a part of his scheme to detain us.”
“What’s that, boy?” asked the sheriff, hastily. “Can you tell us what
this man you’re speaking of looks like?”
“A man passed us while we were fixing our engine on the road hours ago,”
Hugh readily explained, “and when we asked him to lend us a hand he said
he was in too big a hurry to stop. He seemed to be grinning all the
while, as though tickled at finding us in such a bad mess. We believe
that man is the agent sent out to hold us back from arriving at the camp
until it is too late to do any good.”
“Was he a little man, with a sharp face, and eyes that glittered like a
snake’s?” called out one of the more friendly disposed men.
“Yes, and he was in a flivver, a small machine with the top down,”
explained Bud, taking part in the affair now. “He wore a suit that
looked as near green as you could find, and had on a leather cap with
goggles pushed up above the peak.”
The sheriff was impressed by what he heard. At the same time, he did not
appear disposed to drop the case against the three lads. Perhaps the
knowledge that some of those in the crowd refused to take any stock in
the story of the boys influenced him more or less; for murmurs were
heard rising here and there.
“Don’t you believe half he says, Sheriff,” one man called out.
“Boys c’n be all-fired tricky,” another remarked, sharply, “and he’s
certainly got a smooth tongue. Better run the lot of ’em in, and make
’em prove their innocence. That’s the best way to fix it, ’cordin’ to my
mind.”
Hugh felt uneasy. If the sheriff were so disposed he could, of course,
lock them up on suspicion; and while nothing might eventually be done
toward convicting them for the crime of setting fire to the bridge, the
delay would cost them dear.
But it happened that once more in their extremity fortune worked what
almost seemed like a miracle in their behalf. Hugh noticed that two
children had joined the crowd. He also knew that they had certainly not
come along the road with the runners, for they could never have kept
pace with the mob racing toward the river.
A sudden thought struck him. He turned to the sheriff and began to
suggest a plan of action that would possibly prove the truth or falsity
of the charges against them.
“Listen, Mr. Sheriff,” Hugh began. “I think that small boy and girl
there must have been somewhere near by, because they came up out of the
bushes here just now. Ask them questions, won’t you, sir, and find out
if they saw anything of what took place here? It may be they were in
hiding, and saw us come up while the bridge was burning. It’s only a
fair deal we want, sir, and I’m sure you’ll agree to that.”
The sheriff was more impressed than ever with the bearing of the boy who
addressed him. Besides, the plea he advanced seemed very plausible. He
turned upon the two children, a bright-looking boy and girl of about
ten. They were barefooted.
“Look here, Billy Burt, and you, too, Sally, were you hiding in the
bushes here when we came up?”
“Yep, that’s what we was,” said the boy, urged to speak by sundry
punches in his side, given by the elbow of his girl companion.
“Why did you hide there?”
“We was skeered when we got here, and seen the fire,” came the answer.
“Then the bridge was burning, was it, when you came along?” continued
the sheriff.
“It shore was,” the boy told him, positively.
“Were these boys around at that time?”
The boy stared at Hugh and Blake and Bud, then he grinned. “Nixey, they
wasn’t. They kim hurryin’ along, and fit the fire like wildcats. Yuh
jest orter seen how they slashed and slashed around till every bit o’
flames was done fur. Me’n Sally jest hid there in the bushes an’ watched
the fun. It was better’n the movin’ picture fire I seen down in
Hallettsburg.”
“Huh! that ought to settle the case against us, I should think,” laughed
Bud as the boy finished his recital, which, though framed in
ungrammatical language, loomed as high as any speech ever delivered
before a judge in an appeal to free the accused before the bar.
The sheriff threw up his hands.
“Boys,” said he, briskly, “you win. Instead of plucking you, and running
you in for attempted arson, I’m goin’ to thank you most heartily on
behalf of the village of Scroggs Corners, which I happened to be
visiting this afternoon on business. Only for your efficient work we’d
have been a bridge shy tonight. Shake hands with me, and kindly excuse
my excess zeal that might have worked you all an injury.”
Well, the boys bore no malice. They were only too happy to know that
nothing was going to interfere with their onward progress. In fact, they
felt as though victors in the brisk engagement between this clever foe
and themselves. It was likely to be the last expiring effort of the
unscrupulous schemer; after this he would have to give up the attempt to
keep them from the camp until sufficient time had elapsed to destroy all
hopes of Felix making his peace with his uncle.
“If you could only manage to round up that smart rascal who did set this
fire, Mr. Sheriff,” Bud could not help saying, when shaking hands with
the official, now very friendly toward their cause, “it might be
possible to prove the crime against him. Perhaps you may discover he had
been carrying kerosene in his car, and that would be a strong piece of
evidence against him. He’s given us heaps of trouble, which is partly
why I’m showing such a rattlesnake spirit toward him.”
“I mean to send word along the line, and round him up if he can be
headed,” the sheriff admitted, though Hugh really believed he had not
dreamed of such an idea until Bud made his suggestion.
Of course, even those who had been most disposed to believe the boys
guilty of arson had now been convinced of their innocence by the
statement of the boy who had seen all that went on from his
hiding-place. So when Bud started the car once more there was no sign of
opposition; indeed, only cries of goodwill followed the scouts as they
proceeded.
Passing through the village, which they found to be laboring under more
or less excitement, the trio continued on their course. Later on, when
they came to a steep hill, the engine balked again, so that half an hour
was lost in coaxing it to be good.
Blake had been sighing with impatience through the operation. Once he
had even gone so far as to suggest that he and Hugh start on foot, since
it could only be a matter of a few miles at the most that lay between
them and their intended destination. The working mechanic, however,
nipped this scheme in the bud by declaring that he was getting the upper
hand of the balky engine, and hoped to be able to make a fresh start
before ten minutes more had passed.
Still, that half-hour delay was fated to have some effect upon their
fortunes.
When the engine trouble had been mastered, and they were again on the
way, Blake seemed content. The persistent manner in which his comrades
managed to meet each new crisis as it appeared, and win out through any
and every kind of trouble, elicited his ardent admiration. Blake was
ready to declare that the day’s reckoning would only redound to the
credit of scout efficiency.
Hugh suspected that they were now close upon the big camp. He must have
caught certain sounds to tell him this. At least, as they drew near the
top of the slope, he bade both his chums keep on the lookout, because he
believed they were due for a pleasant surprise.
Loud exclamations broke from their lips when, on reaching the summit,
they beheld a wonderful spectacle spread before them. Night was
gathering, and already the broad valley beyond the ridge lay in
semi-darkness, for the moon would not rise until very late.
Scores, almost hundreds of fires, were burning a mile or more away,
looking weird to the startled eyes of the three scouts. They could also
discover a myriad of the same kind of khaki waterproof tents that
Battery K had used in Oakvale when endeavoring to drum up recruits at
the station in the public square.
There lay the great mobilization camp of the State before them, with
some thousands of stalwart young men training so as to be accepted by
the Government for service along the far distant Mexico, where the
threatening shadow of war hovered.