A CREDIT TO THE UNIFORM.
“Looks as if he might be hurt pretty bad, too,” said Billy Worth, as the
crowd pressed forward, and approached the twin tents of the scouts.
“First thing we have to do is to keep them back as well as we can,”
declared Hugh. “Whip that rope around the stakes, boys, and then stand
guard over the opening you leave.”
The scout master had prepared for just such an emergency as this. He
knew that in case of a serious accident, if the patient were brought to
the camp, a morbid curiosity to see what was going on was apt to bring
an enormous mob surging around the tents.
That is one of the most serious difficulties to be encountered whenever
there happens to be an accident in the public streets of a city; and so
fiercely do men, women and boys struggle to see what is going on that
they often have to be entreated to fall back in order that the patient
may get air.
“Bring him right in this tent,” said Hugh to the men who were carrying
the man, who was groaning with pain; and then turning to the pressing
crowd the scout master continued: “Please don’t push so hard. The tent
is open, and some of you can see what is going on. Keep back, and give
us a chance to do something.”
That appeal awoke the spirit of fair play. Immediately one man called
out:
“Yes, give the boys a chance to show what they can do! Everybody keep
back, and stop that rough house business. Here, help me hold ’em,
Crowther; give the scouts a show for their money. Get back, do you hear;
what d’ye want to push like that for?”
He used energetic measures for enforcing his demands; and as he happened
to be a big brawny man those who had been squeezing forward so as to
gain a view of the proceedings ceased their efforts.
Hugh was satisfied. He saw they had gained friends among the watchers,
and that the danger of the tent being almost torn from its moorings by
the press of the rude crowd was a thing of the past.
Accordingly he turned and joined Arthur, who was already bending over
the groaning man with professional eagerness.
“How bad is it, do you think, Arthur?” asked Hugh.
“I’m not sure, but he seems to have a broken arm, and one of his ankles
has been sprained, for it’s swelling fast,” replied Arthur, who had
apparently made a surprisingly quick examination.
“A pretty bad combination,” remarked Hugh. “Here, Dale, you and Billy
get that shoe off in a hurry, but don’t be any rougher than you can
help.”
In the meantime Hugh started to assist Arthur. The man had been laid on
the cot with which the hospital tent was supplied. They lifted his head
and shoulders a little.
“Try and stand it the best you can, sir,” said Hugh, endeavoring to give
the suffering man confidence. “We want to draw your coat off, and then
cut the sleeve of your shirt so we can get at the injured arm.”
Now had it been a bearded doctor who said this the man might have
bolstered up his courage, and stopped giving utterance to his anguish;
but when he saw that the speaker was only a boy he shut his eyes and
groaned again.
The coat came off, and then Arthur deftly cut the sleeve of the man’s
shirt. He had no sooner rolled this up out of the way before they saw
that the fracture was a pretty serious one, coming above the wrist, and
apparently being of a compound nature.
Arthur did not hesitate. He seemed to have the instincts of a true
surgeon in his nature, for grasping the injured arm he made a few deft
movements with his strong nimble fingers, and then taking the splints
which Hugh had picked up from the little chest in which they kept their
medical supplies he began binding these to the arm with swift, certain
strokes.
Those in the crowd who were able to watch the operation were astonished
by the business-like way in which Arthur and Hugh went about it all.
Meanwhile the other boys had removed shoe and sock and rolled up the leg
of the man’s trousers. His ankle was swollen, and beginning to turn a
dark blue.
“Get the tin basin and pour cold water over the ankle to keep the
swelling down all you can, Dale,” said the scout master, giving one
glance that way.
Dale was already doing this, for he knew that with a sprain the
application of ice or cold water is the first remedy to be considered.
At the best such an injury is a serious thing, and often takes months to
fully heal. Many persons have declared they would prefer to have a clean
break of a bone than a bad sprain.
“D’ye mean to tell me them boys know anything about fixin’ up a broken
bone?” one man was heard to say, with an expression of scorn in his
voice. “Why, I’d think it was a man’s work, an’ a skillful surgeon’s at
that, to set a bone. In my mind it’s an outrage to let boys meddle with
serious things like that.”
“Hold on, neighbor,” said the big man who had stood there as a bulwark,
keeping the jostling, thoughtless, curious crowd back by main force,
“where have you been the last year or so? I reckon all the Rip Van
Winkles ain’t done away with yet. Wake up, and get ’quainted with what’s
goin’ on these days. Kids ain’t just the same as when you and me was
young; they’re shamin’ a whole lot of us old codgers by the way they do
a heap of things.”
“That’s all right,” asserted the other, doggedly, “but when it comes to
meddlin’ with broken bones I say it’s a surgeon’s job, and no boy should
be allowed to put his finger in the pie. Why, like as not he’ll make
that arm crooked for life. What can these here scouts know about
surgery, tell me?”
“A whole lot, as you’ll learn if you take the scales off your eyes and
look into what they’ve already done. These very scouts here have saved
some of their comrades from drowning. They likewise took care of those
strikers that were shot down last summer when they had that fight with
the guards over at the cement works; yes, and the Red Cross surgeon
wrote our paper here that they did their work like veterans. If I ever
have the bad luck to get thrown out of a buggy and have _my_ leg broke
I’ll be tickled to death if some of these scouts happen along and take
hold of _me_.”
These words were greeted with a cheer by the crowd, for many local
people were now present, and surely they ought to know what Hugh and his
comrades of Oakvale Troop were capable of accomplishing.
The skeptic may not have been wholly convinced that the boys were
capable of doing the things that as a rule needed the skilled hand of a
surgeon; but at least he had the good sense to keep still. That
vociferous cheer may have told him that those around had faith in the
scouts.
He continued to watch every move that was made, and no doubt the
confident manner in which all the boys went about their several tasks
began to have its effect on his disbelief. They certainly were showing
all the signs of knowing what they were about, and that stood for a good
deal.
The man had stopped groaning now. He even brightened up, for after the
bones had been brought together in their proper places, the pain was not
quite so intense. Then again the way in which Arthur and Hugh were
binding up his arm, after fixing the splints in place, may have had
something to do with the return of his grit.
“What’s the extent of the damage, boys?” he asked, weakly.
“A broken arm, and a sprained ankle, sir,” said Hugh, cheerily; “but
you’re in great luck not to have a broken neck in the bargain. We’ll
have you fixed up so you can be moved. I guess you don’t live in
Oakvale, sir, for you’re a stranger to me?”
“I live some ten miles off toward Somerville; but after that accident
I’d hate to ride behind horses again while crippled like this,” said the
man.
“No need, sir,” Hugh told him. “If you say the word we’ll send for the
ambulance and you can go to the hospital; or if you prefer we can get a
car to take you home.”
“I guess I’d better go to the hospital,” the wounded man said. “My wife,
she died last spring, and I’ve only got an old man and his wife working
on the farm.”
“All right,” returned the scout master. “Dale, will you call up the
hospital and tell them to come and get a patient with a broken arm and a
sprained ankle? Billy, wrap some soft linen around that sprain now, and
soak it with the liniment. Then get another bandage around it, and we’ll
loan him a cane. It so happens that he can use the arm he needs to
support him when he limps.”
Dale hurried away, and quickly got the town hospital on the wire. When
he came back presently he nodded to Hugh. “They’re on the way by now, I
reckon,” he announced.
The man had put his uninjured arm through a sleeve of his coat, and the
garment was then fastened so that it might not fall off.
“Well, I want to say that you boys have done a right good job tinkering
with me,” he said, as they helped him sit up on the cot, and Dale
procured the heavy cane that was lying handy. “After this I’m going to
take more interest in the scout doings than I’ve done in the past. If
being a scout can make boys think, and act like this, there must be a
heap of good about the business.”
“You can just depend on it there is, Mr. Benson,” said the big guard,
who seemed to know the injured man. “I’ve looked into the game, and let
me tell you it’s going to pay a thousand per cent. for every effort put
into it by the long-headed gentlemen who have the movement in charge.
Ten and twenty years from now there’s going to be a heap better class of
men around than you meet to-day; and all on account of these scouts.”
A few minutes later and there was heard the sound of a gong, and up came
the Red Cross ambulance. The injured man was easily helped into the
vehicle, while Arthur and Hugh explained to the young surgeon just what
steps they had taken to relieve suffering, and render first aid to the
injured.
“You couldn’t have done better,” said the medical man, patting Arthur on
the shoulder, for he knew both lads well, and also understood the design
of one of them to some day become a surgeon. “I’ll let you know later
what I think of the way you fixed up his arm.”
The ambulance went off presently, with the man waving his one well arm
back at the crowd, and particularly toward the boys who had performed
their part so well in the tragic happening of the afternoon.
Slowly the crowd dispersed, and the scouts could find time to put things
to rights again. Arthur was looking as pleased as though he were “a
child with a new toy,” Billy remarked to Hugh, under his breath.
The big man lingered. He was plainly greatly interested in the boys, and
asked a great many questions.
“That man you helped,” he told Hugh, “was a Silas Benson, who lives over
toward Somerville. He’s one of the richest men in those parts, though
folks call him close. But since his wife died I reckon there’s a change
coming over Silas; and somehow I kind of think what’s happened to him
to-day may set him to figuring that he might as well get busy living for
somebody besides himself. You’re going to hear from him again, boy, mark
my words.”
And they did, later on, when the rich farmer had recovered from his
injuries. He wanted them to accept a reward, but was shown that scouts
are not allowed to receive pay for their services; and in the end Mr.
Benson was easily influenced to do something for the needs of the orphan
asylum of Oakvale, which was overcrowded, and required a new wing built.
Some time after the excitement had subsided Walter Osborne, who had been
busy in another part of the Fair grounds, came to the camp, and Hugh
could see by the look on his face he had something on his mind that was
giving him more or less concern.