CHAPTER II.

WHAT PRESENCE OF MIND MEANT.

While Billy Worth was talking Hugh was acting. That seemed to be a

chronic habit with the scout master. An emergency never caused him to

quail, and as a rule he could be depended on to do the right thing at

the right time.

That was where the benefit of his preliminary look around came in. The

very second that he discovered the accident to the descending

stone-laden flat-car, Hugh knew that it was up to him to do something in

order to save those imperiled orphans from a terrible calamity.

The car was on a run of the track that was very nearly level, so that as

yet it had not attained the very great velocity sure to follow, after it

came over the crown of the rise, just above where the two boys stood.

Hugh stooped and caught hold of a small log that he had noticed when he

made his movement in the direction of the track. It took all his

strength to lift it up, and Billy would have been of great assistance

could his wits have served him as speedily as was the case with the

scout leader.

With a tremendous effort Hugh raised the log and hurled it upon the

track. Just as he intended it should do, it fell with one end braced in

a cavity, and the other pointing upwards. When the onrushing heavy car

struck that obstruction, it could not very well go any further, but must

be hurled from the track.

All this happened almost in a breath. The car had now reached the edge

of the steeper descent, and was seen by the frightened children below.

Some of the youngsters were being flung from the wagon by the driver,

but there would never have been time to have saved them all before the

constantly increasing speed of the runaway car brought it upon the

trapped wagon.

The horses, as though conscious of their peril, pranced and jumped

wildly, but for all their antics did not seem able to release the

imprisoned wheel. As for the children they shrieked louder than ever,

for the anticipated danger had become a real one.

Billy began to realize that his more active chum had done something

while he was only standing there shivering. He also found Hugh’s hand

gripped on his arm, and that he was being dragged hastily back from the

track.

“Oh!” gasped Billy, as with a rush and a roar the laden stone car came

speeding down the incline.

Hugh held his very breath in fear lest the uptilted log might not

project far enough to catch the base of the heavy car. But it turned out

all right.

There was a mighty crash when car and log came in collision, and Hugh

saw the descending vehicle of transportation flung bodily aside. It

landed in a heap upside-down—something of a wreck, with the rocks

scattered in all directions.

Billy tried to shout, but his best effort was hardly more than a

whisper, such was the reaction that instantly set in when he saw the

danger to the orphans was a thing of the past.

He did manage to seize Hugh’s hand and pat it tenderly, as though in

that way he could find an outlet for the mingled emotions of gratitude

and pride that filled his loyal heart.

Some scouts might have immediately hurried down, to allow themselves to

be made heroes of by those who had witnessed this presence of mind on

the part of the boy. That was not Hugh Hardin’s way.

“Go down if you want to, Billy,” he told the other, when importuned to

descend to the road. “They’ve managed to get a lever under the wheel

now, and pried it loose, so they can go on. I want to see just how the

car struck, and how close it came to passing over the log without

connecting.”

That seemed to be the point giving him the greatest satisfaction; for he

found that had the stout little log been six inches shorter, it would

have failed to throw the car from the track. What that meant made Hugh

shiver as he looked.

“Here comes Mr. Prentice up to see what happened!” exclaimed Billy.

“There’s one thing this accident may bring about,” remarked Hugh, “and

that’s a change in this grade. The stone cars should never cross the

road at all, but go over or under it. When the town council hears about

this new trouble, mark my words if they don’t make him change his

grade.”

“It would be just like him to blame you for smashing his car, Hugh,”

said Billy, who apparently did not entertain a very high opinion of the

owner of the big stone quarry.

“Let him!” replied the other, unconcernedly. “The driver of the wagon

must have seen all that happened. I’d be willing to go on record for

what I’ve done. Still, knowing the kind of a man he is, I hardly expect

to be thanked for saving him from a lot of lawsuits that might bankrupt

him; or perhaps even being accused of criminal carelessness in a

coroner’s court.”

Mr. Prentice came climbing hurriedly to the scene of the wreck. There

was an awed expression on his face in place of its habitual stern look.

The man who had jumped from the car when the brake gave way, and who was

an ignorant foreigner, reached the spot about the same time.

The owner of the quarry examined the remains of his heavy car. Then he

looked at the track, and discovered the partly broken log projecting

upward.

“Who put that log in there?” he asked.

“I did, Mr. Prentice,” answered Hugh, modestly but firmly; “but only

when I saw that the car was heading downward, and that it would likely

strike the wagonload of children stalled on the crossing.”

Mr. Prentice did not say another word. He looked hard at the boy, who

did not allow his eyes to drop a particle. Mr. Prentice was thinking

many things just then; his mind must have been in a riotous condition.

He went back and again looked around at the scene of the wreck, up the

hill, then down to where the wagon had been stalled.

“I guess he understands pretty well what a great thing you did for him

when you jumped that car off the track, Hugh,” muttered Billy, as they

watched the quarry owner moving around, and talking with the man who had

abandoned the runaway car on finding the brake had given way.

“All I’m hoping is that he makes up his mind now never to drop another

load of rock down this grade till he’s made it safe for anyone passing

on the county road below,” Hugh replied.

“But he didn’t even thank you, Hugh.”

“I never expected he would, and it doesn’t matter a particle to me if he

keeps on forgetting to,” said the scout master, smilingly. “There’s

enough satisfaction in _knowing_ you’ve done your duty, without looking

for thanks or praise. The feeling that comes from within beats any

outside commendation all hollow, according to my way of thinking.”

“Huh! I’d just like to tell the old man what I think of him,” grumbled

the indignant Billy.

“For fear you might be tempted to say something you’d be sorry for

afterward,” remarked Hugh, “suppose we slip down to the road and head

for home.”

Though still grumbling, and evidently feeling pretty hard toward Mr.

Prentice, Billy could not refuse to keep his chum company as the other

started down the side of the hill in the direction of the road. He

looked back several times, however, and said a few things half under his

breath, which could not have been very complimentary to the quarryman,

if the sour expression on Billy’s round face stood for anything.

Once down at the crossing the scouts stopped to exchange a few words

with the man who was stationed there to signal when a car was coming.

He, too, chanced to be a Polock and could not talk English very well, so

Hugh looked for himself to see how it happened the wheel of the

heavily-laden wagon came to be trapped in the way they had seen, and

just at the wrong time.

Then they surveyed the situation so as to see whether it would be

possible to build an overhead track, or dig one under the road.

“It can be done as easy as anything,” said Billy, after they had

discussed this phase of the question. “You mark my words, this

near-accident is going to be the last straw on the camel’s back. There’s

been talk of making him change his grade a number of times! now it’s got

to come. And, Hugh, they’ve got to thank you for——”

“Oh! come on, let’s be on the hike for home!” laughed the other, shaking

his head as if to warn Billy he would not stop to listen to anything

that bordered on praise.

Billy was muttering to himself as he followed, this time vowing that

he’d see to it Hugh received all possible honor for having done a clever

thing, in spite of his modesty about owning up to it.

As they entered the outskirts of the town it happened that they came

upon a boy who must have seen them from a store near by, for he came

running out to intercept the two scouts.

“Why, hello, Addison!” said Billy, giving Hugh a wink as much as to say:

“Isn’t it queer that you sometimes run across the very fellow you’re

thinking about?”

“Hugh,” said the boy, who was not as robust as he might have been, and

had rather a pasty look about his face, which indicated too little

outdoor exercise, “tell me, have you seen him yet?”

Hugh knew that he must give the other a grievous disappointment, but he

would have to be told some time, and it had better be over with.

“Yes, it happened that we ran across your father up the road just a

little while back, Addison, and thinking it as good a chance as any to

speak to him about you joining the scouts, I started in.”

“But—you didn’t have any luck, did you, Hugh?” asked the boy, in a

trembling voice, and with a disappointed look on his face.

“I’m sorry to say I didn’t seem to convince him just then that it would

be a good thing for you to join the troop, Addison,” replied Hugh.

The boy drew a long breath. His lower lip quivered, and Billy ground his

teeth in sudden anger at the short-sighted policy of a father who could

not see how much necessity there was for a boy like Addison to be

encouraged to take all the outdoor exercise he could get in order to

build up his physical strength, and his nervous system in the bargain.

“I just expected it would be that way, Hugh,” he said, presently,

“though you do have such splendid luck telling things that I kept

hugging a little hope he might look into the matter, anyway. But it’s

all over now.”

“Oh! I wouldn’t say that if I were you, Addison,” Hugh told him. “One of

the very first things a scout is taught is never to give a thing up

until he’s exhausted every possible effort. And I haven’t thrown the job

over yet by any means.”

Addison tried to smile, but the effort was a dismal failure. He looked

more inclined to break down and cry than anything else, Billy thought.

“It’s nice of you to say that, Hugh, and I’m sure you’ll do all you can;

but I’ve nearly lost hope.”

“Get that notion out of your head, first of all, I tell you, Addison. I

expect to see your father again, and while I can’t explain what I mean,

still there are certain things working that may make him see matters in

an entirely new light. Even Mr. Prentice has had to change his mind a

few times in his life.”

“Oh! yes, in a business way, Hugh, but you don’t know my father. He’s

got his notions of how boys ought to toe the chalk line, and nothing

that can ever happen will make him look at things differently. It’s all

up with me, and I’ll never be a scout, never!”

“Wait!” Hugh told him, as they separated, “there is still plenty of

hope. I’ll be working for you, and a lot of the other boys will, too!”

The Boy Scouts as Forest Fire Fighters · 第 2 / 13 章