A CALL TO FURTHER DUTY.
If a bomb had been dropped into the camp, it could hardly have created
more of a shock, so far as Hugh, Dr. Richter, Nurse Jones, Alec Sands,
and perhaps Ralph Kenyon were concerned.
For the first few seconds it seemed to Hugh that his heart must have
stopped still with dread. He could see that the face of Mr. Campertown
was haggard and drawn. He had apparently aged ten years in the few hours
since the scout master last saw him. That was a pretty good index of the
way the millionaire loved and almost worshiped his pretty little
grandson.
Nurse Jones had turned very white, and put her hand to her throat, as
though she felt herself choking. Hugh, however, forgot her in the
excitement of the moment.
“Do you mean to tell us, Mr. Sheriff,” he asked, as soon as he could
command his voice, “that the boy is lost?”
“Either strayed away, or else he’s been kidnapped for a purpose!”
As the sheriff said this very sternly he fastened his accusing eyes on
the old padrone. There could be no mistaking his meaning. He had dealt
many times with some of these foreigners, and he knew only too well that
they often had strange and un-American ways of accomplishing their
purposes.
Just as Hugh and some of the boys had said in generally talking things
over, carrying people off and holding them for a ransom has long been a
custom in various lands of Europe. Evidently the officer believed these
angry strikers, feeling they could not win their case in the ordinary
way, had determined to resort to such a miserable game as this abduction
of the child would be.
The affection felt by Mr. Campertown for his grandson must have been
evident to every member of that crowd standing by at the time the
sheriff and his posse had stopped for a minute or two on the way to oust
the hired guards. It would not be unreasonable to suppose that some of
the wilder spirits among the men rendered furious by a contemplation of
their supposed wrongs, and the presence of those wounded comrades,
should plan to hit back at the rich man in his only vulnerable spot.
Hugh turned his eyes on the padrone. He felt a sudden chill in the
region of his heart. Could the wily old man be guilty? Hugh had somehow
come to rather like the padrone who had such singular power over his
people that he usually could sway them to his way of thinking.
He felt it was almost impossible that the old leader should have
consented to sit there at their campfire and partake of their food, if
he were guilty of such a terrible thing.
Hugh immediately felt reassured as soon as he looked at the other. The
swarthy face of the padrone was drawn, and Hugh thought there was an
expression of injured pride upon it. His eyes flashed fire, and, as he
drew himself up, he tried to express his feelings in his crude way.
“Eet ees that you believe some of my people they haf been take the kid
away to hold heem ofer the head of the gentlemans. You do us great
wrong. We haf not yet been brought to the point that we make the war on
children! And, eef ees be done, sure I must know of that same. I gif you
my word not.”
The sheriff was watching him with his keen eye. He had become accustomed
to reading faces long ago, though doubtless some of these foreign ones
were apt to give him more or less trouble.
“I have heard good reports of you, padrone,” he said, slowly. “As a rule
you have tried to guide your people along the road that led to their
best interest. Perhaps you had nothing to do with this ill-advised
strike. Let that pass. There is only one thing that engages our
attention now, and that is the safe return of the boy. Do you understand
what I am saying?”
“Si, excellency, it is plain to me,” replied the old man, still looking
hurt, as though he bitterly resented the accusation.
“Mr. Campertown will pay five thousand dollars for the safe return of
his grandson,” said the sheriff. “It is a shame that such a thing should
happen, and as a rule I am utterly opposed to this blackmail business;
but he insists on making the offer, and there is nothing else for us to
do but try and compromise a felony. Five thousand dollars is a big sum,
padrone!”
“Eet ees a fortune to families that be very near starving,” replied the
padrone; “but I tell you that eef you find that any of my people haf
take the child, even eef he be return safe and unharm, not one dollar
shall be claim!”
“That’s the stuff, padrone!” burst out Bud Morgan, unable to contain
himself any longer.
The sheriff nodded his head, while still watching the padrone closely.
“I like the way you say that, padrone,” he remarked. “It sounds honest.
Perhaps this thing may have been done by some of the hotheads without
your knowledge. They may have guessed that you would not stand for such
a game. How about that, padrone?”
“That I do not belief,” came the prompt reply. “All I can say ees that
when I tell my people how eet ees, and that a thief haf taken a child to
strike at the heart of Mr. Campertown, efery one will join me to hunt
for eet. They do not haf much reason to lof Mr. Campertown this day of
sorrow; but there was time when they take off hats and cheer him when he
come here to works.”
“A mighty fair offer, I should say!” Billy Worth muttered.
The sheriff turned to Mr. Campertown and talked with him in low tones.
Hugh believed the millionaire had been much impressed with the dignified
words spoken by the old padrone. Perhaps they cut him to the quick, and
made him realize that he had not been treating these employees of his of
late as he should. Hugh hoped deep down in his boyish heart that great
and lasting good was going to spring from all this trouble.
Presently the sheriff turned again. This time his eyes were on Hugh, and
he beckoned to the scout master to join him, which the other did with
promptness, scenting something in the line of action.
It turned out exactly that way, for the first thing the officer did was
to lay a patronizing hand on Hugh’s shoulder and say:
“Mr. Campertown here has requested me to ask you all to assist in the
search for his grandchild. It seems a strange thing for a sheriff to
rest his confidence in _boys_, but then I’ve heard considerable about
what you lads have accomplished in the past, and this is a case where
‘beggars mustn’t be choosers.’ How do you feel about making a try to
earn that splendid reward?”
Hugh looked the officer squarely in the eye as he replied calmly:
“You evidently do not know much about the rules governing Boy Scouts,
Mr. Sheriff, or you wouldn’t hold out that reward as an inducement for
us to try and find the poor little chap. We are not allowed, as a rule,
to accept pay for any service we render, and especially to those in
trouble. All the same I’m sure every fellow around this campfire will be
wild to offer his services in the search.”
The big sheriff was very greatly impressed with what Hugh said, as his
next words proved.
“That sounds fine, son. I reckon I don’t know enough about the scout
movement to make such an error of judgment as that. In all my experience
this is the first time I ever heard anyone decline to be rewarded. If
that’s the way you scouts do things there’s some hope for this old world
yet. But we must not lose any more time. Padrone, are you willing to
stir up your people, and start a general alarm for the missing boy?”
“I will go right away, and efery man and woman they try their level best
so to find eet,” replied the padrone, as he saluted the sheriff and
hurried off.
Hugh saw the officer follow his vanishing form with his eye, and then
shake his head. From this the boy understood that, while much impressed
with the manner of the padrone, he was not wholly convinced that the
strikers were guiltless.
Mr. Campertown now turned to the scout master. Evidently he had been
deeply interested in what Hugh had told him concerning the activities of
the Oakvale scouts in times past. When this terrible necessity burst
upon him so suddenly, and there had arisen so great a need of
assistance, Mr. Campertown must have suddenly remembered that these lads
had achieved marked success in tracking lost people. At any rate, this
would account for his appeal through the sheriff for their aid in his
time of need.
He looked very forlorn as he faced Hugh. The boy thought he had never
seen so great a change in any one in such a short time. Those who might
have considered Mr. Campertown autocratic and domineering would hardly
class him so if they could have seen how his lips trembled, and how his
hand shook as he laid it on Hugh’s shoulder.
“My boy,” he said earnestly, “do your best to find Reuben. He is the
light of my life, and it would cut me to the heart if any ill befel him.
The sheriff made a mistake when he spoke about that reward to you. It
applied only to others. I do not promise _you_ any cash reward if you
succeed; but anything you ask of me I will grant; for I know that you
will not be unreasonable!”
There was a meaning back of those words, and Hugh knew it. He believed
Mr. Campertown realized the scout master was deeply interested in the
welfare of those people in the wretched hovels of the foreign
settlement; and it must be that he wanted Hugh to feel that he stood
ready to do the right thing by them if only this load could be taken
from his heart.
“All right, sir; we’ll try the best we know how to find Reuben. It will
be strange if a dozen and more scouts can’t get on track of him. I give
you my promise we will do everything in our power to succeed; and that’s
all I can say, sir.”
Mr. Campertown squeezed his hand convulsively, cast an appealing look
around at the circle of boyish faces, and then followed the sheriff off,
doubtless returning to the plant in hopes that some good news had come
to light during their brief absence.
Immediately the scouts clustered around their leader. They had not heard
all that had passed between Hugh, the sheriff, and the grief-stricken
millionaire, but sufficient had come to their ears to whet their
curiosity, and questions poured upon the scout master.
Hugh, knowing that the best way to satisfy his comrades was to tell the
whole story as briefly as he could, commenced to do so. They listened to
him in absolute silence. No one interrupted because all were so anxious
to get the facts, that they could not think of causing any unnecessary
delay.
As soon as Hugh had finished there was a perfect flood of suggestions as
to what ought to be done. The scout master, however, knew that nothing
would ever be accomplished unless they went at things in a systematic
way. Accordingly he told Ralph, Alec and Billy to step aside so they
could figure out a program.
“We mustn’t go at this thing blindly,” he said in the beginning, “and
rush around without any method. The more haste the less speed in the
end. First of all we ought to try and figure out who has carried the
child off, or whether he simply strayed away as a little tot often
does.”
“The padrone acted as though he was mighty sure none of the strikers
could have had a hand in the game, you noticed, Hugh?” remarked Billy.
“Yes, and somehow I’m ready to stake my belief on the padrone,” answered
Hugh. “He acts to me as if he had only the good of his people at heart.
If any hotheads, as the sheriff seemed to think might be the case, have
abducted the child so as to get a ransom, or make Mr. Campertown come to
terms, the padrone doesn’t know of it. But he means to find that out
right away. I could see it in his eyes as he hurried off. Ralph, what
makes you so uneasy, you’ve got something on your mind?”
“Well, that’s what I have, Hugh,” admitted the other. “The fact is, I
believe I know who’s stolen little Reuben!”