HONORABLE SCARS
So it turned out after all that the scout master did not have to change
his mind, and give the order for retreat. When that dreadful panic
overwhelmed the scouts, it was really a case of "every one for himself."
Either by rare good luck, or some sort of instinct, the seven lads
managed to keep pretty well together as they ran. Not a single fellow
dreamed of allowing himself to get separated from his comrades. It seemed
to be a case of "united we stand, divided we fall," or "in union there is
strength."
If in their mad rush some of the boys collided with trees, or stumbled
over obstacles that they failed to discover in time, they were not of a
mind to let such trifles interfere with their making record time.
In such cases it was only necessary to scramble erect again, and put on a
little extra spurt in order to overhaul their comrades.
What had taken them half an hour to cover when they were "scouting" in
such approved fashion, was passed over in about five minutes.
It was Paul who came to his senses first. He realized that there was no
one chasing them and that, to tell the truth, not one of the boys could
have been seriously hurt by what had befallen.
So he began to laugh, and the sound reaching the ears of the others,
appeared to act on their excited minds like soothing balm.
Gradually the whole lot slackened their pace until they were going at a
jog trot; which in turn settled down to a walk.
Finally Bobolink came to a full stop.
"Whee! let's get a few decent breaths, fellows!" he managed to gasp.
The others were apparently nothing loth, and so they all drew up in a
bunch. A sorry lot they looked just then, to tell the truth. It seemed as
though nearly every fellow had some distinguishing mark.
Phil's rather aristocratic face had a long scratch that extended down the
right side, and gave him a queer look; Jack was caressing a lump on his
forehead, which he may have received from a tree, or else when he was
knocked down without warning by that singular explosion; Andy was trying
to quench a nose-bleed, and needed his face washed the worst way; Bluff's
left eye seemed partly closed, as if he had been too close to the
business end of an angry bee; while Bobolink had two or three small cuts
about his face that made him look as if he had been trying to tattoo
himself--with wretched success.
So they looked at one another, and each thought the balance of the crowd
had the appearance of a set of lunatics on the rampage.
Hardly had they stared at each other than they set to laughing.
"Oh! my stars! but aren't you a screamer though, Andy, with all that
blood smeared over your face; and Bluff, why he looks as if he'd been in
a prize fight!" was the way Bobolink expressed his feelings, bending over
as he laughed.
"Huh! you're not so very pretty yourself!" replied Bluff, with not the
slightest sign of an impediment in his speech--evidently it had been
frightened out of his system for the time being. "Anybody'd think you
were a South Sea Islander on the warpath. And wouldn't they cross over to
the other side of the road in a hurry if they met you! Say, if Mazie
Kenwood or Laura Carson could only see you now, they'd give you the cut
straight."
"Look at Jack's bump, would you?" Tom Betts exclaimed.
"Don't call attention to me any more than you can help," Jack remarked,
making a wry face, as he caressed the protuberance on his forehead; "it
feels as big as a walnut, let me tell you, and hurts like fun. The sooner
I'm back in camp, so I can slap some witch hazel on that lump, the better
it'll please me, boys."
After a little more laughing and grumbling, Paul, who had escaped without
any visible hurts, though he walked a little lame, remarked:
"Well, do we start right back again, and take a look-in on those men?
Don't everybody speak at once, now!"
All the same they did, and the burden of the united protest was that
circumstances alter cases; that they had arrived at the conclusion that
what those men were doing on the island could be no affair of honest,
law-abiding scouts; and that as for them, the camp in the sink offered
more attractions at that particular moment than anything else they
could think of.
Of course that settled it. The scouting was over for that occasion. They
had done themselves credit, as far as it went; but then, who would ever
dream that they would come within an ace of being blown sky-high with the
whole upper end of the island?
As if by common consent, they started to move forward again, and every
fellow seemed to know, as if by instinct, which was south, and
whereabouts the camp was, for they needed no pilot now.
And as they journeyed they talked it all over. Every boy seemed to have
an opinion of his own with regard to what had happened, and they differed
radically.
"Tell you what," said Tom Betts, who had also escaped with only a few
minor injuries, because he was as quick as a cat, and must have fallen on
a soft piece of ground besides; "tell you what, I thought that old hill
had turned into a volcano, and just bust all to flinders."
"Well, now," Phil admitted, "I somehow had an idea that storm had chased
up when we didn't chance to be watching, and lightning had struck a tree
close to the place where we happened to be standing looking at that crazy
man wave his arms."
"Me?" Bobolink remarked; "why, I was dead sure what we guessed about a
war game bein' played up here between two pretended hostile armies was
right; and that one of 'em had blown up the fort of the other. You see,
that aeroplane had a sorter military air about it, even if I didn't see
it. And I'm not sure yet it isn't that."
"One thing sure," remarked Paul; "the man was trying to warn us to keep
back, for he knew some sort of mine was going to explode, and that we
might be killed. As it was, we got off pretty lucky, I think. This sprain
will heal in a day or two; but if a rock weighing a ton or two had
dropped down on me, I guess the chances of my ever seeing Stanhope again
would have been mighty slim."
"But tell me," Bobolink asked, "what in the world would counterfeiters
want with exploding mines, and doin' all that sort of thing? Just
remember that big bang we had the other night, that woke everybody up.
Shows it's a habit with 'em, and that this wasn't some freak accident.
Gee! my head's buzzing around so I can't think straight. Somebody do my
guessin' for me; won't you, please?"
"That's right," said Tom Betts, suddenly; "who are these men, anyway?
P'raps we didn't size 'em up straight when we made up our minds they were
bogus money-makers. Mebbe they happen to be a different sort of crowd
altogether. How about that, Paul; am I off my trolley when I say that?"
"I've been beginning to believe something was crooked in our guess for a
little while, Tom," replied the scout master; "but all the same, you've
got me up in the air when you ask who and what they are. I'm rattled more
than I've been in many a day, to be honest with you all."
Bobolink took out something from his pocket. He stared hard at the two
shining quarters, and jingled them in his hand.
"Look good to me," he was heard to say; "I'd pass 'em any time for
genuine. But what silly chump'd be throwing good money around like
that, tell me?"
"Or bad money either, Bobolink," remarked Paul; "so you see, it was an
accident in any case. You've lost money many a time out of your pocket;
well, this man was in the same boat. Chances are, that's straight goods."
Bobolink grinned.
"If that's so," he remarked calmly, "I'm in a half dollar, and that's
some satisfaction. But say, what a time we'll have tellin' the boys. Wow!
I can see the eyes of Little Billie, and Curly, and Nuthin just stickin'
out of their heads when they hear all we've run up against."
"And we'd better move along a little faster while about it,"
observed Paul.
"Why? Hope you don't think any of those men are chasin' after us; or that
we'll run up against that wild man, or the big yellow dog again?"
Bobolink inquired, glancing fearfully about him.
"No, I was considering the feelings of the boys," replied the
scout master.
"That's a fact," Jack went on, "they'll be worried about us, after
hearing that terrible report, and think something has happened to our
crowd. But we're not a great way from camp now, Paul."
"No, and if the distance was greater, I'd stop long enough to send up a
smoke signal that would tell Jud we were all right. But that'd take time,
and perhaps we'd better hurry along," and the scout master set a new
pace, even though limping slightly.
"Got hurt some yourself; did you, Paul?" Jack asked, solicitously.
"Oh! only a little sprain, but it happens to be on a muscle that I have
to use when I walk, and you know a fellow favors such a pain. But I can
see where the sink lies now; we'll be there in ten minutes, perhaps
half that."
They continued to push on. For the time being most of them forgot about
their personal troubles, in their anxiety to join their comrades. And
Bobolink, as he walked beside Jack, spoke what was on his mind:
"It was a grand old scare, all right, and one we won't ever forget,
believe me; but there's one thing that tickles me half to death, Jack. We
know _now_ where the queer old boxes went to, even if we are up in the
air about what was in them. And the chances are we may find that out
before we're done with this business; because those men ought to come
down and ask if anybody got hurt by their silly Fourth of July fireworks
display. There's the camp, boys. Whoopee!"