SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE.
While waiting there for the return of the envoys sent out to drum up
recruits for the rescue squad, Hugh noticed that there was considerable
excitement down at the edge of the water.
“Let’s see what’s doing over yonder, Billy,” he remarked.
“I was watching that bunch,” the other scout replied. “As near as I can
tell, they’re marking the stage of the water. If only the river got
stationary, or began to fall, it’d mean a whole lot to the people of
Lawrence, not to mention all the farmers up the valley Tip was telling
us about.”
“It must look pretty blue, then,” observed Hugh, as they advanced toward
the spot, “because nobody seems to want to give even a whisper of a
cheer.”
When they pushed into the crowd they found that an old inhabitant had
taken it upon himself to keep “tabs” of the rise of the waters. Perhaps
this had been a hobby of the old fellow’s for years, and he was looked
on as a sort of authority when any reference was made to past floods.
Some of the people must have recognized in Hugh the boy who had so
lately performed that gallant act. They nudged one another, and
exchanged low remarks.
“He looks like a brave one, sure enough. Just the sort of chap to carry
out a rescue. I’d warrant you now that he’s done the same several
times—snatching boys out of holes in the ice, or getting them ashore
when they’ve been taken with cramps in swimming!”
“And they say it was him started the movement to chase everybody off the
bridge. Only for that there might have been some gone down with it!”
“I asked Tip Lange who he was, and he said it was a boy named Hugh
Hardy, or something like that, from over in Oakvale.”
“It would be a good thing for Lawrence if he came here to live. I never
felt so much like kissing a boy in all my life as when I saw him drag
that foolish Tug Wilson off the dreadful bridge. I only wish my nephew
was built like that brave boy.”
It was perhaps fortunate that Hugh did not hear the old maid say this,
or even catch the remarks exchanged between the others. He had managed
to reach the side of the white-haired old man who was bending over a
marked stick which he had fastened to a post that stood deep in the
yellow water.
“What do the marks show, sir?” asked Hugh.
The old man glanced up at him. Perhaps he, too, suspected that this
manly looking young chap in the khaki suit and with the raincoat over
his arm was the same boy who had so recently performed that gallant
deed. At any rate he replied without the least hesitation:
“Now a foot and two inches above the highest record made in forty years.
I know, because I’ve been keeping tally that long.”
“But how fast is it rising now?” continued Hugh.
“At a terribly rapid pace, I am sorry to tell you. In the last hour it
has come up almost a foot. There will be great woe and desolation all
through the valley. I feel sorry for the people living further away from
Lawrence. It is bad enough here; but we are a community, and no one need
suffer while others are able to lend a helping hand. But the isolated
farmers and the little hamlets will be in desperate straits.”
It did the old veteran’s heart credit, this concern for others. Hugh,
too, was thinking of those who had no one to lean upon. He wished some
means could be found whereby he could start out on the flood that ran
for many miles back up the valley, so as to rescue those helpless ones
caught in the sea of raging waters.
Once again he and Billy went back to the place where they had promised
to wait for the coming of the local scouts. All the while Hugh’s active
brain was trying to lay plans, although until he knew just what the
nature of their resources might be it was next to impossible to settle
on these definitely.
“There comes Tip!” exclaimed Billy, who had evidently been keeping a
watchful lookout all the while.
“And he’s got two others with him, I notice,” added the patrol leader.
“Strikes me we haven’t run across either of them before, Billy.”
“They’re new ones to me, all right, which shows that Tip is all to the
good, and has done his part. If the rest can double up, we’ll have a
fair-sized bunch to hustle things some.”
Tip pushed toward them. He must have been telling his companions a lot
about Hugh as they came along, for the eyes of the two boys were glued
upon the stranger continually, and they shook hands at being hurriedly
introduced as though proud of the privilege of knowing this energetic
comrade from another town.
“There’s Wash coming, and he’s got the Smith twins with him, all right!”
Tip remarked immediately afterward. “That means four recruits, and more
to hear from. We ought to scare up some sixteen or twenty fellows, I
should think. Used to have more’n three full patrols in this old town;
but things got so bad there were only seven at the last meeting, and
some of them even said they’d be hanged if they’d bother coming out to
such a dull affair again.”
Others of the local scouts now began to heave in sight. Those who had
started forth with the intention of rounding up others had certainly
exerted themselves to the limit; for there was hardly a single fellow
who failed to bring back one new addition to the rescue squad.
They had managed to enthuse the others to a considerable extent, too, in
some way or other. Possibly that thrilling event of the bridge had
served them all for the purpose.
When Tip announced that the last scout who had been sent out was now
back, and that they had their full quota on deck, Hugh counted noses.
“Seventeen of us, all told, fellows!” he declared. “It strikes me that
ought to be enough to do a heap of work. Over in Oakvale we’ve managed
to get there when we couldn’t count on more than half this number to do
things. It depends pretty much on the vim you put into your labor.”
“Tell us what we ought to tackle first, and then see us dig!” one of the
newer arrivals called out.
The spirit was spreading fast, just as a trace of yeast placed in a lump
of dough soon impregnates the entire batch. Those boys who helped Hugh
and Billy clear the bridge realized how sweet it was to be possessed of
a little authority. Somehow, people had seemed to respect them, possibly
for the first time. And then that brave act of Hugh Hardin had won such
golden opinions from the citizens that it was hoped they would cover the
whole scout movement as with a blanket.
“I want to tell you, fellows,” Hugh continued impressively, “there’s
going to be a plenty to do for all of us—perhaps much more than we can
manage—before this flood goes down again. You’ve got a glorious chance
to make good. There never was such a splendid one for any scouts that I
ever heard about. It’s up to you to take advantage of it; and if you
seize the opportunity you can depend on it, after it’s all over, scout
reputation will have soared to top notch in Lawrence.”
“Hurrah!”
“Good for you, Hugh! That’s the stuff we want to hear!”
“They’ll be taking off their hats to you, fellows,” Hugh told them in
his impressive way, “and there isn’t anything within reason you might
ask for but what the people of this burg would give it to you!
“Our chance has surely come, boys! Let’s be like the busy little bee,
and improve each shining hour, only there’s nothing shining under that
dark sky.”
“Would you mind if I said a few words to our fellows, Hugh?” asked Tip
Lange, who, although he had not mentioned the fact to his new-found
friends, must have been in some position of authority in the now nearly
defunct Boy Scout Troop of Lawrence.
“Talk as much as you want to, Tip,” replied the other, “only we must
organize our work on a systematic basis soon.”
Thereupon Tip waved his arms until all the fellows had clustered around
him. He had stepped on a box that happened to be lying nearby. It looked
as though some labor agitator might be about to “spout,” and try to get
the honest workers to go out on a strike.
“Boys,” began Tip, in his most impressive tone, “this comrade from
Oakvale has had a heap of experience in building up a scout troop. Some
of us have read about what they’ve done over in his town, and let me
tell you it all reflects great credit on Hugh Hardin, assistant scout
master.”
“Hear! hear!”
“Good for you, Tip; he sure deserves all that and more.”
“Keep still and let Tip do the talking; he’s got something he wants to
tell us, don’t you understand?”
Again Tip started in after these remarks had ceased.
“It’s a bit of good fortune that brought Hugh Hardin and his chum Billy
Worth to Lawrence just at this time. Only for what he did at the bridge
there might have been a considerable loss of life, for some of those
fools would have stayed out there till it was too late to get off.
That’s a fair sample of the way Hugh Hardin does things. And, fellows,
we want him to show us how. You can’t see his wings, but all the same I
reckon that he’s the good angel that’s been sent here to help us out of
the pit we’ve been wallowin’ in so long.”
Some of the boys must have considered that Tip was waxing eloquent in
delivering this harangue, for they insisted on giving him a hearty
cheer. When the noise had again subsided, the orator continued,
evidently fully in sympathy with his subject, because he had taken a
violent liking for Hugh.
“Now, I want you to make me a promise, fellows,” continued Tip. “It’s
only right and fair that if Hugh stands by us and does all he can to
land the Lawrence Troop back in the place it once occupied that we ought
to carry out his orders as unhesitatingly as if he were at the head of
our troop. Isn’t that right?”
The answer was unanimous, and given with a roar of approval that left no
doubt in Hugh’s mind about the ability of these Lawrence scouts to
attain their goal if once they could be given a fair start.
“All right,” said Tip. “That sounds good to me. Now, every fellow who
faithfully promises to look up to Hugh Hardin as our temporary scout
master, and to obey his commands as such, upon his honor as a scout,
raise his right hand!”
He looked around, and seemingly counted the hands that went aloft.
“Fourteen, which, with my own, covers every Lawrence scout present. That
makes it unanimous. I therefore introduce Hugh Hardin to the boys of
this town as the temporary scout master of the troop. And now, Hugh, you
take things in hand. No yelling, fellows; we’ve got too serious business
in hand to waste our breath that way. Set your jaws together like you
meant to ride roughshod over every obstacle. That’s the way things are
done, I take it.”
Hugh was entirely satisfied. All preliminaries having now been arranged,
he felt that they could “get down to brass tacks,” as Billy called it,
without further delay.
“I’ve noticed, to begin with,” he remarked to the eager scouts who
clustered around him, “that the lower part of the town is already being
submerged. There are poor people there who will lose everything unless
some one helps them ferry their bedding and clothes and such things as
the water would ruin to higher ground. Now, I’m going to lay you all off
in batches so you can work better in company.”
He thereupon picked out three boys who were to be in charge of Wash
Bradford, and another lot whom Teddy McQuade would boss.
“Get hold of any rowboats you can,” Hugh told them. “If that’s
impossible make a strong raft that can be pushed with poles. Then go
down in the part of town that is under water and do all you can to
rescue people and save their stuff for them. In that way there will be
many to look upon the garb of a scout as a badge of honor, and always to
be considered a mark for their respect. And keep working as long as you
can stand it. There’ll be plenty for all of us to do, never fear.”
That took about half of their number, or eight in all. The two
detachments hurried away, conferring as to the best means for carrying
out the part of Hugh’s scheme entrusted to their charge.
One of the parties managed to get hold of a large rowboat in some
fashion. It may have leaked to some extent, but scouts would know how to
make temporary repairs, and with this boat they were in a position to
move around and do considerable in the way of helping those who had been
caught by the rising waters in the homes they had hesitated about
deserting to the mercy of the flood.
The other boys were compelled to resort to a raft; but Teddy McQuade
proved to be a clever manager, once his energies had been fully aroused;
and he remembered where there would be plenty of just the kind of pine
boards they would need for a dandy raft. Nails and a hatchet were
procured, also some stout clothes lines to serve as a check should the
current prove too strong for their clumsy means of passage along the
main street that was now five feet deep in water.
Of course, Hugh did not intend to waste any time in seeing how these two
detachments carried out their orders. He had other work to do. There
were still nine of them remaining. These he divided up into three groups
consisting of the same number of members. Tip Lange and Billy he kept
along with him; for he had a plan in his mind that he meant to try and
put into execution later on.
When the other six had also been dispatched to start on the work of
accomplishing such things as they could find to do for the unfortunates,
Hugh turned to Tip.
“How about that boat you said you could get for us, Tip?”
“Come right along, and I’ll try and make good. I had a ride on the same
only last summer, and if only we c’n get the owner’s consent to loan her
to us, we ought to be able to do a heap of rescue work. He’s some
cranky, though, and mightn’t just like to let three boys handle the
launch.”
“Hello! that sounds cheery to me!” exclaimed Billy, who had not known
anything about this before. “A motorboat would be able to get around in
this flood all right, I should think, provided it kept away from that
nasty current of the river. Lead us to the man who owns such a craft.
That’s kind of you, Tip.”
The Lawrence boy hurried away, with his two new friends tagging at his
heels. Dodging in and out of the crowds that were hastening this way and
that, all terribly excited and wrought up by the prospects of the flood
taking a fearful toll of property if not human lives, they came after a
while to where a cottage stood, with its grounds running down toward the
river.
“There’s the boathouse, yonder,” called Tip over his shoulder. “Mr.
Sperry was smart enough to have it a floating one, so all he has to do
now is to keep changing the ropes that hold it.”
“I hear some one working with the engine of the launch, seems to me,”
remarked Billy, whose hearing was very acute when he was excited and
anxious.
“Yes, but I just glimpsed Mr. Sperry himself looking out of the window,”
said Tip Lange, as if to explain why he did not intend to alter their
course and head toward the floating boathouse. “He’s a lame man, and
can’t get around much afoot, so he has an automobile and a launch to
take him. Come along in with me, fellows.”
There was indeed a mud-splashed motorcar at the gate as the three lads
passed through.
“That’s his runabout,” commented Tip. “Like’s not he’s been down where
the crowd gathered to hear the latest news. I wonder, now, if he saw the
bridge go out, and how you got Tug Wilson safe ashore, Hugh.”
He had hardly knocked on the door when it was opened. Mr. Sperry was a
man with a red beard, and walked with a crutch and a cane. Hugh
remembered having seen him in the crowd; for that useful training as a
scout to notice things and impress them on his memory, whether they
seemed worth while or not at the time, was serving the boy another good
turn.
Tip quickly announced the reason for their hurried call. He introduced
his two companions, and the lame man’s eye kindled as he looked at Hugh.
“Why, to be sure, I’d like to do anything I could to accommodate so
brave a lad,” he said breezily, as he laid a hand affectionately on
Hugh’s shoulder. “I saw what you did down at the bridge; and the people
of Lawrence have good reason to be glad you happened to be marooned
here. But about my boat, I’m sorry to disappoint you. I’ve already
promised it to my nephew who’s visiting us; he was sick abed, but
insisted on getting out to do something. He’s down there at the
boathouse now. You might ask him to let you go along.”
This was a bitter disappointment. Still, it might be worse, and the
three boys started in the direction of the boathouse, Billy muttering as
he went:
“Playing second fiddle isn’t according to my liking, as a rule; but
we’ll see what we’ll see. Mebbe we might coax him to give up the ship,
or else toss him overboard!”