"FIRST AID"
Possibly the case was not quite as bad as Hank declared, but for all
that those four lads were certainly in a bad way.
Paul took charge of affairs at once, as became the acting scout-master
of the troop.
"It's a good thing we thought to pick up some wood as we came along,"
he remarked. "Fetch it in, boys, and get this fire going the first
thing. Then we'll make a pot of coffee to begin with."
"Coffee!" echoed the four late prisoners of the cave. "Oh, my stars!
why! we went and forgot to bring any along with us. Coffee! that
sounds good to us!"
"That's only a beginning," said Bobolink, as he came back with his
arms filled with sticks, which he began to lay upon the almost dead
fire. "We've got ham and biscuits, Boston baked beans, potatoes, corn,
grits, and lots of other things. Just give us a little time to do some
cooking, and you'll get all you can cram down."
Paul knew the hungry boys would suffer all sorts of tortures while
waiting for the meal to be cooked. On this account he saw that they
were given some crackers and cheese, to take the keen edge of their
voracious appetites off.
It was a strange spectacle in that hole amidst the rocks, with the
fire leaping up, Bobolink bending over it doing the cooking with his
customary vim, the rest of the scouts gathered around, and those four
wretched fellows munching away for dear life, as they sniffed the
coffee beginning to scent the air with its fragrance.
As soon as this was ready Paul poured out some, added condensed milk,
and handed the tin cup to Hank.
He was really surprised to see the rough fellow turn immediately and
give it to Sid Jeffreys and hear him say:
"I reckon you need it the wust, Sid; git the stuff inside in a
hurry."
Then Paul remembered that Sid had recently been injured. And somehow
he began to understand that even such a hardened case as Hank Lawson,
in whom no one seemed ready to place any trust, might have a small,
tender spot in his heart. He could not be _all_ bad, Paul decided.
Hank, however, did not refuse to accept the second cup, and hastily
drain it. Apparently, he believed the leader should have first
choice, and meant to impress this fact upon his satellites.
What to do about the four boys had puzzled Paul a little. To allow
them to accompany him and his chums back to Deer Head Lodge would make
the remainder of their outing a very disagreeable affair. Besides,
there was really no room for any more guests under that hospitable
roof; and certainly Tolly Tip would not feel in the humor to invite
them.
So Paul had to figure it out in some other way. While Hank and his
three cronies were eating savagely, Bobolink having finished preparing
the odd meal for them, Paul took occasion to sound the one who
occupied the position of chief.
"We've brought over enough grub to last you four a week," he started
in to say, when Hank interrupted him.
"We sure think you're white this time, Paul Morrison, an' I ain't
a-goin' to hold back in sayin' so either, just 'cause we've been
scrappin' with your crowd right along. Guess you know that we come up
here partly to bother you fellers. I'm right glad we ain't had a
chance to play any tricks on you up to now. An' b'lieve me! it's goin'
to be a long time 'fore we'll forgit this thing."
Paul was, of course, well pleased to hear this. He feared, however,
that in a month from that time Hank was apt to forget the obligations
he owed the scouts, and likely enough would commence to annoy them
again.
"The question that bothers me just now," Paul continued, "is what you
ought to do. I don't suppose any of you care to stay up here much
longer, now that this blizzard has spoiled all of the fun of camping
out?"
"I've had about all I want of the game," admitted Jud Mabley,
promptly.
"Count me in too," added Sim Jeffreys. "I feel pretty sick of the
whole business, and we can't get back home any too soon to suit me."
"Same here," muttered Bud Phillips, who had kept looking at Paul for
some time in a furtive way, as though he had something on his mind
that he was strongly tempted to communicate to the scout leader.
"So you see that settles it," grinned Hank. "Even if I wanted to hang
out here all the rest o' the holidays, three agin one is most too
much. We'd be havin' all sorts o' rows every day. Yep, we'll start fur
home the fust chance we git."
That pleased Paul, and was what he had hoped to hear.
"Of course," he went on to say to Hank, "it's a whole lot shorter
cutting across country to Stanhope than going around by way of Lake
Tokala and the old canal that leads from the Radway into the Bushkill
river; but you want to be mighty careful of your compass points, or
you might get lost."
"Sure thing, Paul," remarked the other, confidently; "but that's my
long suit, you ought to know. Never yet did git lost, an' I reckon I
ain't a-goin' to do it now. I'll lay it all out and make the riffle,
don't you worry about that same."
"We came over that way, you know," interrupted Jud Mabley, "and left
blazes on the trees in places where we thought we might take the wrong
trail goin' back."
"That was a wise thing to do," said Paul, "and shows that some of you
ought to be in the scout movement, for you've got it in you to make
good."
"Tried it once you 'member, Paul, but your crowd didn't want anything
to do wi' me, so I cut it out," grumbled Jud, though he could not help
looking pleased at being complimented on the woodcraft of their crowd
by such an authority as the scout-master.
Paul turned from Jud and looked straight into the face of the leader.
"Hank," he said earnestly, "you know just as well as I do that Jud was
blackballed not because we didn't believe he had it in him to make an
excellent scout, but for another reason. Excuse me if I'm blunt about
it, but I mean it just as much for your good as I did bringing this
food all the way over here to help you out. Every one of you has it in
him to make a good scout, if only he would change certain ways he now
has."
Hank looked down at his feet, and remained silent for a brief time,
during which he doubtless was having something of an inward fight.
"All right, Paul," he suddenly remarked, looking up again grimly. "I
ain't a-goin' to git mad 'cause you speak so plain. If you fellers'd
go to all the trouble to fight your way over here, and fetch us this
food, I reckon as how I've been readin' you the wrong way."
"You have, Hank! You certainly have!" affirmed Bobolink, who was
greatly interested in this effort on the part of Paul to bring about a
change in the boys who had taken such malicious delight in annoying
the scouts whenever the opportunity arose.
"Believe this, Hank," said Paul earnestly; "if you only chose to
change your ways, none of you would be blackballed the next time you
tried to join the organization. There's no earthly reason why all of
you shouldn't be accepted as candidates if only you can subscribe to
the iron-bound rules we work under, and which every one of us has to
obey. Think it over, won't you, boys? It might pay you."
"Reckon we will, Paul," muttered Hank, though he shook his head at the
same time a little doubtfully, as though deep down in his heart he
feared they could never overcome the feeling of prejudice that had
grown up against them in Stanhope.
"I wouldn't be in too big a hurry to start back home," continued Paul,
thinking he had already said enough to fulfill his duty as a scout.
"In another day or so it's likely to warm up a bit, and you'll find it
more comfortable on the way."
"Just what I was thinkin' myself, Paul," agreed Hank. "We've got
stacks of grub now, thanks to you and your crowd, and we c'n git
enough wood in places, now you've opened our dooryard fur us. Yep,
we'll hang out till it feels some warmer, and then cut sticks fur
home."
"Here's a rough map I made out that may be useful to you, Hank,"
continued the scout-master, "if you happen to lose your blazed trail.
Tolly Tip helped me get it up, and as he's been across to Stanhope
many times he ought to know every foot of the way."
"It might come in handy, an' I'll take the same with thanks, Paul,"
Hank observed, with all his customary aggressive ways lacking. There
is nothing so well calculated to take the spirit out of a boy as acute
hunger.
When they had talked for some little time longer, Paul decided that
it was time for him and his chums to start back to the cabin. Those
afternoons in late December were very short, and night would be down
upon them almost before they knew it.
It was just then that Bud Phillips seemed to have made up his mind to
say something that had been on the tip of his tongue ever since he
realized under what great obligations the scouts had placed him and
his partners.
"Seems like I oughtn't to let you get away from here, Paul, without
tellin' somethin' that I reckon might be interestin' to you all," he
went on to say.
"All right, Bud, we'll be glad to hear it," the scout-master observed,
with a smile, "though for the life of me I can't guess what it's all
about."
"Go ahead Bud, and dish it out!" urged Bobolink, impatiently.