At the request of the superintendent of the Boys’ Club, the Sea Scouts
remained in Salem one more day and night. By that time the militia had
arrived, and the worst of the emergency was over. The fire had been
put out since the night after their arrival, and the relief committee
for the whole city was thoroughly organized and in working order.
When they had said good-by to the superintendent and as many of their
new friends as they could find at the moment, the boys started, after
breakfast, on their way back to the ship. The scene was quite different
from that through which they had marched on that first afternoon.
There was no fire burning anywhere; and, in the high wind, most of
the cinders had been blown out to sea; but there were desolate proofs
of the destruction wrought in the charred and broken walls of the
forsaken houses which, only a few days before, had been cheerful and
comfortable homes. They passed by groups of people who were walking
about inspecting the ruins, and overheard an old man saying:
“They say fire is a good servant but a poor master--and I guess they’re
right. What do you say, Joe?”
Dick Gray, Tom, and Chippie walked together and talked over their
adventures.
Soldiers belonging to the militia were standing sentry at different
points to protect the property that had not yet been removed, and
they also had charge of the street traffic, so that no carriages or
automobiles that were not engaged in rescue work were permitted within
the burnt district.
Dick told the other boys of the rescue of a blind man by one of the
Salem scouts. The poor fellow had been found in the railway station,
hearing the strange sounds and feeling the fire creeping nearer, but
not knowing which way to turn. Tom, on the other hand, told them about
his first-aid adventure with the woman and the doctor, of which he had
not spoken previously to any one except Mr. Miller.
Then it suddenly occurred to him that, as they were all three together
and practically alone, this would be a good opportunity to speak to
Dick about a matter which he and Chippie had talked of together, and
which had been on their minds for some days past. So Tom changed the
subject rather suddenly and said:
“Dick, Chip and I have been wondering what you have had such a grouch
about lately; can you tell us?”
“What do you want to know for?” answered Dick rather gruffly.
“Well,” replied Tom, “it has something to do with the law about being
cheerful--hasn’t it? And aren’t we three sworn brothers-in-arms to see
that we keep the law?”
Dick did not answer at once, and he didn’t seem to relish what Tom was
saying. But Chippie piped up next:
“Don’t you remember, Dick, when you said you wanted to learn to keep
the scout law, or bust? and we all three agreed to stand by each other?”
There was no answer, and they walked along in silence, until finally
Dick said, in quite a different tone:
“Say, fellows, I’ve got something to tell you,” and in their interest
to hear what he had to say, the two others stopped walking and the
three heads bent forward together.
After about five minutes’ talk, they resumed their walk and soon
reached the wharf. They all three had a rather troubled expression
as they joined their comrades, got into the boats, rowed out to the
ship, clambered up the side-ladder and saluted the quarter-deck,--all
seemed in a kind of daze. Most of the other boys felt as if they had
been asleep, too, and had just waked up from an exciting dream. They
gathered around the day bunk, talking over the incidents of the past
two days, when suddenly “first call” to quarters was sounded. This
finally woke them up completely and brought them to a realization of
present duty.
As they stood up in their places at quarters, there was a general
inspection of clothing; some of the working suits were so badly used up
as to be almost beyond repair.
Before the company was dismissed, the Chairman made a few remarks,
during which he praised the work of the company in general, and told
the boys there would probably be more to say on the subject after the
meeting of the next officers’ conference, which would sit as a Court
of Honor. It was also announced that there would be no instruction
or drill for the remainder of the day, but that all the boys could
go in swimming and take a rest until supper time. Wind and weather
permitting, the ship was to sail for Northbridge the following morning.
Everybody noticed that the Chairman and Mr. Miller were in high good
humor.
There was a good swim that afternoon and a lot of frolicking in the
water off the ship’s side; and, although a few of the boys were so
tired that they crawled into their bunks and slept until they heard
the bugle call for “mess cooks below”, most of them were gathered in
groups, either on the day bunk or in the jib netting, to talk over the
events of the last two days.
The chief work that the boys had done was in carrying food to people
on the Common and in helping to load baggage and furniture that was
taken out of the houses upon trucks and vans; and, when Chippie told
the story of Dick Gray’s rescue of the white cat, some of the company
took it more as a joke than anything else, and thought it was not much
of a thing to do, considering how easy it was to get a cat whenever you
wanted one, and how many kittens were drowned every day.
Chippie took up the cudgels for Dick and thought that it was no joke
for any creature, either animal or man, to burn to death.
“If you could ask the cat what she thinks of it, I guess she’d say it
was a mighty good job!”
Dick was entirely silent throughout the controversy; but, somehow or
other, his mind seemed to have got the habit of recalling parts of
the scout law on every possible occasion. And now, as he listened to
the clamor of the talk around him, he heard again that same quiet
voice which had spoken to him as he contemplated the waterspout in
Mrs. Green’s back yard. This time it kept repeating the words, “Shall
protect all harmless life.” Then that old idea of the baseball game
and second base came jumping up into his mind again, and he thought to
himself:
“Why shouldn’t I have a talk with Mr. Miller about that?” There
was something queer going on in Dick’s mind that he did not quite
understand himself.
At the recreation hour, after supper, there were several good sparring
matches and a lot of singing; and, during one of the less noisy
intervals, Dick noticed Mr. Miller standing all alone and leaning up
against the foremast stays. He seemed to be quietly watching the scene
in front of him, and every now and then the flicker of a smile played
over his features.
“Now’s my chance,” said Dick to himself. “There’s a full fifteen
minutes before prayers.”
Dick’s working trousers had been pretty badly worn on the waterspout,
and he had been wondering whether he should have to patch the holes, or
whether, considering the circumstances, he could get a new pair,--but
it was not about his trousers that he was waiting to speak to Mr.
Miller. He had a kind of sickish feeling that seemed to be getting
worse and worse as time went on. He felt as if he were two boys
instead of one. The boy who had been working along with Tom Sheffield
and Chippie Smith all over Salem--the boy who had climbed up the
waterspout, and who had beaten down the desire to shirk and be a
coward--was not the same boy who had played in the baseball game at
Hull. On the other hand, that boy of the baseball game seemed to be
not unlike the boy who had been scared to risk his neck in saving the
little girl’s cat.
It is not a pleasant thing to have two people inside of you when they
are fighting with one another. And this is what seemed to be happening
to Dick Gray; and the more he tried to do his duty as a scout, the more
these two boys inside of him wanted to fight and kick up a dust. So, as
Dick was looking at Mr. Miller standing in the dusk against the evening
sky, Dick Number 1 repeated:
“I guess now is the time,” and started to walk forward in the right
direction; but he hadn’t got much more than half-way toward Mr. Miller
when Dick Number 2 whispered:
“Never mind about the baseball game; ask him about your working
pants!” and the next moment he was standing before Mr. Miller with his
hand lifted to the salute. Mr. Miller did not notice the suppressed
excitement in his face, nor did he hear the thumping of his heart, as
he remarked, with assumed quietness:
“I got my pants badly torn in Salem the other day, sir, and I’d like to
know whether I can get another pair?”
“You coward! You coward!” whispered Dick Number 1 inside, before Mr.
Miller could answer.
“Oh! let me see,” said Mr. Miller. “They are rather badly done up,
aren’t they? How did you get them torn so badly?”
“Climbing a waterspout, sir,” said Dick.
Mr. Miller smiled, and then there was a little pause.
“That is not a question you should come to me with, Gray; report to
your boatswain’s mate, and he will report to me for the whole section.
Lots of other boys have torn their clothes.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” replied Dick, with a salute, and turned away.
But he did not get any fun out of the sports on deck that night, and
the words, “You coward! You coward!” kept ringing in his ears.
After taps that evening there was officers’ conference in the cabin;
and, when certain routine matters had been disposed of, the rescue work
in Salem was talked over very thoroughly. All the boys had behaved
well, and some of the little ones had done almost too much. Jack
Perkins had been in immediate charge of organizing the groups and of
overseeing their work, and he had managed his task so well that he had
been able to make careful notes of pretty nearly everything that had
been done.
This, of course, was a great help to the Court of Honor in awarding
their commendations, and it was voted first that Jack Perkins should
be commended at quarters the following day. Five other boys, including
Chippie and Tom, who had done especially hard work in saving and
carrying valuables out of burning houses, were commended, and besides
it was decided to give Tom a commendation for the incident with the
doctor.
Finally, the question of Dick Gray and the cat came up; and although
it was undoubtedly a genuine case of saving life, a doubt arose as to
whether such an act as Dick’s constituted “life saving” in its real
sense.
There was an interesting discussion on this point, and it was finally
decided that the meaning of “life saving”, in its connection with the
merit badge, could only refer to the saving of human life, but that
Dick’s act was an emphatic instance of obedience to Law Number 6:
“He is a friend to animals. He will not kill nor hurt any living
creature needlessly, but will strive to save and protect all harmless
life.”
The Court also found that it involved, though perhaps less
conspicuously, an upright obedience to Law Number 10: “A scout is
Brave.”
It was therefore decided to award Dick not the medal for “life saving”,
but a special commendation.
The officers present felt that the same doubt which had arisen in some
of their own minds would naturally arise in the minds of the boys, and
particularly hoped that the Chairman would make the whole question
clear at quarters on the following day.
When the meeting was over, all the officers seemed pleased at the
result, and, after a stroll on deck, Mr. Miller and the Chairman went
below.
“Good night, sir,” said Mr. Miller to the Chairman, after they were in
their bunks. “Something is going on inside of that boy, Gray. There is
no doubt that he did a plucky and unselfish thing, and it will probably
help him to see some other things in their true light.”
“That’s just what I think, Mr. Miller; I believe in the boy. Good
night,” and the Chairman turned over in his bunk and went to sleep.