After It Was All Over
“I guess it’s all over but the shouting!” exclaimed Sim, which
remark proved that he too must have noticed some of the same signs
detected by Rob.
“Oh! do you really believe that?” cried Tubby, a little look of
relief appearing on his face, which lately had been screwed up in
all sorts of lines denoting his strained feelings.
“Well,” explained Sim, with alacrity, “you can see for yourself that
so far none of the sparks have set fire to the roofs of the mills
and factories, thanks to the men who are guarding the same, armed
with buckets of water. If you watch carefully you’ll learn that the
blaze keeps on getting weaker right along. It’s burning itself out,
I tell you, Tubby. We win, and most of the glory goes to Rob here
for thinking up such a grand scheme.”
“Don’t you believe that!” exclaimed the scout leader, energetically.
“Nine-tenths of it ought to go to Ralph, you’d better say. Didn’t he
get the apparatus for blowing up that factory, and wasn’t it Ralph
who piloted the car back home and here again, going like mad? But
perhaps you had better not say anything more about that business,
boys; neither of us want to pose as heroes. After all, what we did
was only the most natural thing in the world.”
“Just what it was, and we’re fishing for no bouquets, either,
remember,” said Ralph, who was close enough to hear all this talk.
It was now close on midnight, but no one in all Wyoming would dream
of such a thing as going to bed. Some had been burned out of house
and home, while all the remainder had suffered such a shock to their
nerves that sleep was quite out of the question for them.
The danger was past, and every one could take a good long breath of
relief. Why, even the wind had commenced to die down now, as though
conscious of its defeat in trying to aid its companion element in
destroying the bustling town.
There would be plenty of work for all the firemen until dawn,
pouring a continuous stream of water on the ruins of houses, and the
lumberyard as well, that had been destroyed. Even when additional
companies reached town, coming from more distant places, they were
set to work rendering assistance to the stricken community; for
those gallant fellows would have been sorely chagrined if compelled
to return home without a chance to even wet their hose for
neighborly accommodation.
The boys knew that presently they ought to pull out and head for the
farm; but as long as Mr. Jeffords did not insist on going, it was
not their business to say the word. They felt that they would
willingly remain there for an hour and more, with so much going on
to see and to hear.
It was Rob who began to exhibit signs of impatience, for, to tell
the truth, the scout leader noticed that the crowd around them had
been growing of late; and he also discovered that a number of the
more prominent men of the town seemed to be talking very earnestly
with Mr. Jeffords.
Now, Rob began to take the alarm. He fancied that these people were
talking about himself and comrades, because often he could see them
look their way, and once a stout gentleman whom Ralph had told him
was the mayor of Wyoming actually pointed in their direction.
“Don’t you think we’d better be starting home, Ralph?” Rob went on
to say.
The other chuckled as though he could give a guess as to what was
bothering his friend. At the same time he shook his head in the
negative.
“We’ve just got to wait till dad gives the word, you know,” he
explained. “Now he seems to be pretty busily engaged. Just hold your
horses, Rob. The fire has been gotten fully under control, and
there’s nothing more to be feared from that source. Unless I miss my
guess, the business men of this town have a duty, and a pleasant
duty to perform. I don’t mean to spoil it all by running away, not
on your life.”
Rob looked uneasy, but he was powerless to do anything.
“Oh! well, I suppose we’ll have to stand for it, then,” he muttered,
as if making up his mind to take some punishment.
Ralph actually stared hard at him. Really, he had never before run
across a boy just like Rob Blake. Most of the fellows he knew would
have been only too delighted to find themselves in the limelight,
and called a hero. Nevertheless, Ralph was determined that Rob
should not escape by running away.
“They’re coming this way,” announced Tubby, who with Sim and Andy
doubtless had already “sensed” what was in the air, for all of them
were smiling broadly, and casting significant looks toward the
plainly annoyed Rob.
Mr. Jeffords led the dozen citizens straight up to where the little
group of boys stood, while a crowd pressed close around to hear what
was said.
“This gentleman,” began Mr. Jeffords, “is Mr. Perkins, our worthy
mayor, and these others are business men of Wyoming, some of them
owners of the costly mills and factories that have been saved from
destruction through a brilliant and bold scheme. I have explained to
them that though the dynamite that saved the town belonged to me,
and while it was my son Ralph who drove the car to the farm to
secure it, still the conception of the grand idea was wholly Rob
Blake’s. They want to congratulate you, my boy, on your bright
thought, and to thank you publicly for having been so instrumental
in saving our town from utter destruction.”
Rob opened his mouth to protest, but the stout mayor waved to him
that he had a few words to say; so the boy shrugged his shoulders
and held his breath. If they were so insistent, how was he to help
himself? Nevertheless, he could not think it fair that more of the
credit should be placed at his door than was given to resourceful
Ralph, who, once given the hint, had engineered the whole thing.
“I want to thank you, Rob Blake,” said the mayor, squeezing the
boy’s hand in his chubby palm, “in the name of all our people. Only
for your quick wit and ready brain we might at this minute be
witnessing the destruction of all our thriving industries, and
Wyoming would have been as thoroughly blotted out as some of those
poor Belgian and French communities have been before the vandal guns
of the warring Nations. And while I am about it I mean also to thank
Ralph Jeffords because of the valuable aid he gave once you
conceived the scheme of blowing up that building. Yes, let me also
shake hands with these other three lads here who wear the khaki, for
I feel sure that had you not been present, one of them would have
discovered some way to accomplish the same purpose you had in view.”
Even Tubby blushed at the compliment. Plainly, then, these good
people of Wyoming were of an entirely different mind concerning
those who wore the khaki. Not so very long since, according to
Ralph, and they had settled in their minds that scouts were an
undesirable organization in a community, just because the first
attempt to raise a troop had been a failure, owing to the wrong sort
of leadership, and the poor class of lads enlisted under the colors.
“It may be that you boys have heard about the failure that overtook
a troop of scouts started in our town some time back,” continued the
mayor, and at that Rob began to show much more interest than when he
himself had been the object of attention. “But some of us are now of
the opinion that we were wrong in condemning all wearers of the
khaki because our own lads failed to equal our ambitions. I am sure
I voice the sentiments of this entire community when I say that
after having this lesson brought home to us we realize that we have
made a great mistake. For one, I am in favor of urging that a troop
of scouts be started here in Wyoming without delay, founded on the
broad and noble principles of your order; and here and now I pledge
you that my two boys shall become charter members. And I also hope
very much that Ralph Jeffords will consent to take this enterprise
in hand. All in favor of this say aye!”
There came a unanimous shout from the assembled crowd, who had been
listening in absorbed attention while the mayor was talking.
After that other gentlemen came up, desirous of shaking hands with
the boys who chanced to be visiting at the Jeffords’ farm. Evidently
the story of how the scouts had been instrumental in tracking the
lost child, and restoring little Caleb to his nearly distracted
mother may have been brought to the town, for several of the men
mentioned something about it as they warmly greeted Rob and Sim and
Andy and Tubby.
With such a wonderful background as that still burning section of
the town the picture was a striking one, which Tubby felt sure he
would never, never forget. He was particularly pleased that they had
cornered Rob, because on more than one former occasion Tubby had
known the patrol leader to slip away after having been instrumental
in accomplishing things worth while, just because he could not bear
to hear people making him out to be more than an ordinary boy.
On his part, Rob was delighted to learn of the change that had come
over the good people of Wyoming with regard to their opinion of
scouts in general. They had seen a light, evidently, and would know
from this time on that those who wear the honored khaki, if they are
true scouts, are bound to be a credit to the community in which they
dwell.
Ralph, too, looked pleased. To tell the truth, ever since the coming
of his cousin Sim, and his acquaintance with such a fine fellow as
Rob Blake, Ralph had been wondering whether it would not be worth
while to make another attempt to organize a troop in Wyoming, if
sufficient encouragement could be received from leading citizens,
and the men at Scout Headquarters were also willing.
Now it seemed that matters had been taken out of his hands by this
strange happening, and the peril that had threatened the town.
Instead of it being Ralph who spent his time in going around and
beseeching citizens to allow their boys to join in with him so as to
form a new organization, it was the mayor himself who gave the word,
and even promised that his two sons should enroll their names among
the very first candidates.
Plainly, then, Rob and his chums had been able to show what scouts
are worth to any community and had made a deep and lasting
impression on these people; it would not be long before their visit
must begin to bear fruit to the honor of the whole organization.
Now that this ceremony had been carried through, perhaps Mr.
Jeffords would be willing that they start for home. Rob was
beginning to feel that a bed would not be unpleasant, for all of
them had been up very early on the preceding day, and so much had
taken place since then that they were tired.
Tubby, too, was commencing to yawn, which was a pretty good sign
that he could not hold out much longer. All of them, in fact, were
glad when Ralph’s father came back and announced that they had
better start out to find the car, which it was to be hoped had not
been taken by any of the fleeing people.
This worried Tubby somewhat, for he wondered whether they would be
able to hire a rig, or another car in case their own had been taken.
All anxiety on this score, however, was soon set at rest, for as
they drew near the spot where Ralph had abandoned the auto they
discovered it still there near the curb.
They quickly found seats, Sim occupying one of the extra ones. So
they started forth, and many times did Andy, Tubby and Sim crane
their necks to look back toward Wyoming; but the angry glow had
faded from the heavens by now, and stars were beginning to show
themselves here and there through the clouds.
“Well, after all, we’ve gone and forgotten Peleg!” announced Tubby,
presently. “Too bad, and I hope he doesn’t have to tramp all of
those ten miles out to the farm.” But Rob somehow found himself
believing that Peleg had purposely kept away from them.