HOME AGAIN--CONCLUSION.
THE mountain hike had come to an end.
One and all, the Boy Scouts declared that they had seen about enough of
this wild country of the Blue Ridge, and would be glad to turn their
steps toward dear old Cranford. They believed they could find other ways
to enjoy themselves that offered better inducements than climbing the
sides of mountains, with suspicious moonshiners watching their every
move.
Of course, now that Old Phin Dady had taken them under his protection,
they had no reason to fear any bodily harm. And what Thad had done for
Cliff Dorie must go pretty far toward making them friends among the
ignorant mountain people. But because Old Phin meant to desert his
former calling for one that would have the sanction of the law, did not
mean that moonshine stuff would not continue to be made up in the dells
back of the trail in the Smoky Range. There were many others who knew no
other means for making a slim livelihood, than by cheating the
Government of the heavy tax it placed on strong drink.
So the scouts decided, by a unanimous vote, that they had seen enough of
these parts; and would hail with delight an order to turn their backs on
it all. Besides, did they not know that both Bob and his father would be
fairly wild to hasten to the waiting mother and wife in that Northern
home?
They made the start as soon as they could get in marching order. Polly
and her father accompanied them through the mountains. This was
considered best, lest some suspicious moonshiner think it his duty to
take a pot shot or two at those figures far down the valley, wearing the
khaki uniform he hated.
At every cabin they passed, the natives swarmed out to see the strange
sight of Old Phin walking amiably by the side of the boy soldiers, as
they supposed the scouts to be. Once or twice there was an ugly
demonstration, some of the natives fancying that the mountaineer must
have surrendered, and was being carried off to jail. It took
considerable explaining to get these people to understand the truth
about things, and that Phin was on the best of terms with the boys.
Finally he dared go no further, because as yet he did not know what
success his agents, the drug men, had in Washington; and there was
danger of revenue men sighting him at any moment, when trouble must
break out, since there had been war between them for so long.
When the little party of scouts turned up again in Asheville, they found
plenty to do there to keep them over until another day. First of all,
Mr. Quail underwent a complete transformation at the hands of a barber;
for he declared he believed the sight of him, in his present condition,
with such long hair and beard, would be enough to send his poor wife
into a fit, or else have her drive him from the door as a pretender.
And when he appeared before the scouts, decently dressed in a new suit,
which Bob's money paid for, as he had none himself just then, Bumpus
voiced the sentiments of the entire patrol when he declared that Mr.
Quail was as fine looking a gentleman as he knew.
Of course a message had been sent to Cranford, to apprise Bob's mother
of the glorious result of his hike down in the Blue Ridge country, which
they had once upon a time called home. It had to be very carefully
worded, lest the shock to her nerves prove too great. And in another
day, father and son hoped to be once more with the one who would not
sleep a wink until her own eyes beheld the loved form which she believed
had gone from her forever.
Then there was that affair concerning little Bertha to be considered.
Great had been the indignation of Mr. Quail when, on examining the paper
which Bob had secured through the help of the girl, he realized all the
rascality that Reuben Sparks had been guilty of.
They held an interview with a well-known lawyer, who, on hearing the
facts, and seeing the legal document, advised them to leave it all in
his charge.
"I promise you that this party will be summoned to appear forthwith,
bringing his ward with him," this legal gentleman had declared; "and
once within the jurisdiction of the court, it will be an easy matter to
dispossess him. Indeed, should he show fight, we can have him sent up
for a term of years."
With such a pleasant prospect before them, did the scouts leave the Old
Tar-heel State. They had come down here for an outing, and to see what
Bob had once called his home; but the tour had turned out to be a more
serious affair than any of them could ever have anticipated.
And now they were on the way home again, filled with memories of the
many events that had seasoned their brief stay in the Land of the Sky;
home to familiar scenes and to look upon faces that were dear to them.
A jolly party they were on the train that bore them away toward the
North. Bob and his father sat by themselves, for they had a thousand
things to talk about, that concerned only their private interests. But
the rest clustered at one end of the sleeper, and eagerly reviewed the
stories they would have to tell.
"Oh! we'll have the greatest time ever, just showing the fellers how we
did it," declared Bumpus. "First of all, we'll get Giraffe to wade into
a creek, and explain how he was bein' pulled down by that sucking
quicksand, when the prompt arrival of the rest of the bunch saved his
precious life. I always heard that when one's just born to be hanged
there ain't no use tryin' to get rid of him by any other means; which I
guess stands for quicksand too."
"That sounds mighty fine, Bumpus," remarked Giraffe, unmoved by the
laughter greeting the proposition; "but just think what a great stunt
it'll be when we get Davy Jones here showing 'em what he c'n do dropping
down head-first into a bully old camp-fire, and swimmin' in red coals.
That ought to bring down the house; if only we c'n coax him to do it
over again."
"Not much you will," declared the said Davy, looking ruefully at sundry
red marks on both his wrists, that served to remind him of the accident.
"Once is enough for me; and I tell you right now, fellows, if ever I
_do_ climb a tree again, to exercise, I'm going to be mighty careful I
don't hang down over a blaze. There's such a thing as takin' too many
chances."
"A burnt child dreads the fire," sang out Step Hen.
"Hello! are you there, old sobersides?" remarked Giraffe, pretending to
be surprised; "now, we all of us thought you might be busy writin' out
in your mind a treatise on how to be happy watching a tumble-bug try to
roll his big ball uphill; or else what lessons can be gained by watching
the humble beetle in his never-say-die act as a gymnast. But I see
you've got your badge right-side up to-day, all to the good, Step Hen;
what wonderful stunt have you been pulling off now?"
"Oh! it didn't amount to much, I guess, fellows; but then even a little
speck of kindness counts, they say," remonstrated Step Hen.
"I happen to know," remarked Thad, breaking into the conversation; "for
I was just coming into that other ordinary car, when I saw our comrade
doing himself proud. Perhaps it _is_ only a little thing for a boy to
notice that a poor woman with three kids clinging to her skirts, and a
baby in her arms, wants to get a bottle of milk warmed, and don't know
just how to manage it; and to offer to do it for her; but let me tell
you, that poor tired mother said 'thank you, my boy' just as if it meant
a _heap_ to her! Yes, Step Hen, you had a right to turn your badge; and
I only hope you find as good a chance to do it every single day, as you
did on this one."
And Giraffe became suddenly silent. Perhaps something within told him
that he too had passed that same weary mother; and if he thought
anything at all at the time it was only to wonder why a woman could be
so silly as to travel with so many children.
"Well, you see," remarked Step Hen, feeling that some sort of
explanation was expected from him, after the scoutmaster had given him
the "spot light" on the stage. "I got to talkin' with her afterwards,
and she told me that the children's paw had just died down South, and
she was on her way home to her mother's. After hearin' that, fellers, I
wanted to do anything more I could for the poor thing; and I did jump
off at the last station, and buy the kids some sandwiches, 'cause, you
see, they didn't have a great lot to munch on. But it was worth while to
watch 'em gobble the snack of chicken I got along with 'em, like they
hadn't had a bite to eat this livelong day."
Thad walked away, satisfied that Step Hen was proving his worth as a
scout. That little lesson of the humble bug had opened his eyes, and
through those touched his heart. Perhaps he might not change all at
once, for he was inclined to stumble, and fall down, when he had made
good resolutions; but the chances were he would see more in life than
ever before.
And that is what a scout wants to do, keep his eyes open all the while,
in order to notice many of the strange things that are happening every
minute of the day all around him; until he learns to do that which will
give him the greatest treat that could possibly happen to any one.
Time was when Step Hen might have passed that poor mother, and never
have given her a second thought; but it was different now. And the
strange thing about it, in Thad's mind, was that an obscure little
tumble-bug, one of the lowliest of all created things, could have
succeeded in showing Step Hen that he had a heart; and that even a boy
can find chances to do kindly acts, if he looks for them.
"Well," said Bumpus, as they huddled together in a bunch, exchanging
views and watching the mountains and valleys as they were whirled past,
"if we could have the say right now where the Silver Fox Patrol would
spend next vacation, where d'ye reckon it would be?"
"Let's take a vote!" suggested Step Hen.
"That's the ticket, Mr. Secretary, get eight ballots ready, and let's
write first choice and second, majority rules," and the patrol leader
nodded in the direction of his chum Allan, just as much as to say it was
easy to guess what one vote would be.
"Count as I call out, Bob White. Here goes now: Maine first choice,
Rocky Mountains second."
"Hurrah!" cried Bumpus.
"Another for Maine, with the Saskatchewan country of Canada second,"
Thad went on; "but this comrade forgot that as American Boy Scouts we
do not want to spend our money and vacations in a foreign land."
When the eight ballots had been counted, strange to say Maine was first
choice with every one, and the Rockies well in the lead as second.
"Move we make it unanimous," laughed Giraffe, which was duly done
according to statute.
"Much good that will do, with a whole year to wait, because it wouldn't
pay to go up into Maine for only Christmas week," grumbled Step Hen.
But strange to say it was decreed in a most remarkable way that the wish
expressed by the scouts should be made an actual fact, and just how this
came about the reader will find duly set forth in the third volume of
this series entitled, "The Boy Scouts on the Trail, or Scouting through
the Big Game Country."
In due time the scouts arrived at Cranford station, where their coming
had been anticipated; for the story of how the boys had found the
missing husband of Mrs. Quail had somehow gotten around, since Cranford
had its gossips. One of these happened to be calling on the lady at the
time Bob's telegram arrived. Of course its nature was such as to give
Mrs. Quail a shock, though she quickly recovered; but there had been
ample time for the visitor to glance at the message, between dabs at the
face of the fainting lady with a handkerchief wet with cologne. And that
was how the news got out.
"Look at the crowd, would you?" gasped Bumpus, as he poked his head out
of the door, and saw what seemed to his excited imagination about the
whole of Cranford filling the home station, and craning necks in the
endeavor to be the first to glimpse the resurrected father of Bob Quail.
"Hurrah for the Boy Scouts!" some one called out.
They were given with a rush and a roar that brought other passengers
hurrying to the windows of the cars, to see what popular hero it could
be arriving home, to excite such a tremendous demonstration.
"Hurrah for Thad Brewster!" called a second school-boy, as the young
scoutmaster stepped off the train, bearing certain bundles, that might
be a haversack and a take-down shotgun.
Another wave of applause went sweeping up from the crowd.
"Three cheers for Bob Quail, and his dad!" shrilled yet another
enthusiast; upon which the echoes were fairly awakened by the racket.
The scouts fell into line, and two and two marched along the station
platform; for Mr. Quail had already taken his wife into his arms, and
they had retired to the interior of the little building, in order to be
less conspicuous while they talked it all over.
Bumpus sounded his bugle, and the boys kept step as they walked along,
with heads up, and feeling that they had gained the right to feel a bit
proud, after what they had gone through. The crowd pushed after them,
still shouting, and making a great clamor.
And from one of the car windows looked a bevy of childish faces, back of
which was the wan one of the tired mother; Step Hen disobeyed the rules
for one second only, when he turned, and waved his hand to his little
friends of the train. Seeing which Thad Brewster said softly to himself:
"I warrant you that little woman believes all this noise is meant for
just one boy, and he the fellow who was so kind to her; because, in her
sight Step Hen is a real hero, and this racket is meant especially for
his home-coming."
THE END.
The Boy Scouts Series
BY HERBERT CARTER
[Illustration]
For Boys 12 to 16 Years
All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles
PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH
New Stories of Camp Life
THE BOY SCOUTS' FIRST CAMPFIRE; or, Scouting with
the Silver Fox Patrol.
THE BOY SCOUTS IN THE BLUE RIDGE; or, Marooned
Among the Moonshiners.
THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL; or, Scouting through
the Big Game Country.
THE BOY SCOUTS IN THE MAINE WOODS; or, The New
Test for the Silver Fox Patrol.
THE BOY SCOUTS THROUGH THE BIG TIMBER; or, The
Search for the Lost Tenderfoot.
THE BOY SCOUTS IN THE ROCKIES; or, The Secret of
the Hidden Silver Mine.
THE BOY SCOUTS ON STURGEON ISLAND; or, Marooned
Among the Game-Fish Poachers.
THE BOY SCOUTS DOWN IN DIXIE; or, The Strange
Secret of Alligator Swamp.
THE BOY SCOUTS AT THE BATTLE OF SARATOGA; A story
of Burgoyne's Defeat in 1777.
THE BOY SCOUTS ALONG THE SUSQUEHANNA; or, The
Silver Fox Patrol Caught in a Flood.
THE BOY SCOUTS ON WAR TRAILS IN BELGIUM; or,
Caught Between Hostile Armies.
THE BOY SCOUTS AFOOT IN FRANCE; or, With The Red
Cross Corps at the Marne.
* * * * *
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price
by the Publishers
A. L. BURT COMPANY
114-120 EAST 23rd STREET NEW YORK
The Golden Boys Series
[Illustration]
BY L. P. WYMAN, PH.D.
Dean of Pennsylvania Military College.
A new series of instructive copyright stories for boys of High School
Age.
Handsome Cloth Binding.
PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH.
THE GOLDEN BOYS AND THEIR NEW ELECTRIC CELL
THE GOLDEN BOYS AT THE FORTRESS
THE GOLDEN BOYS IN THE MAINE WOODS
THE GOLDEN BOYS WITH THE LUMBER JACKS
THE GOLDEN BOYS ON THE RIVER DRIVE
* * * * *
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by
the Publishers.
A. L. BURT COMPANY
114-120 East 23rd Street, New York
* * * * *
Transcriber's note:
Obvious punctuation errors were corrected.
Page 4, "Granford" changed to "Cranford" (home town of Cranford)
Page 4, "Allen" changed to "Allan" (command, was Allan)
Page 5, "Allen" changed to "Allan" (looked to Allan)
Page 24, "in" changed to "it" (is it, right here)
Page 54, "knicked" changed to "kicked" (beast kicked up his)
Page 60, "pome" changed to "poem" (that stirring poem)
Page 62, "neen't" changed to "needn't" (needn't be afraid)
Page 87, "moat" changed to "mote" (mote out of your)
Page 90, "at" changed to "apt" (are apt to interest)
Page 94, "happennings" changed to "happenings" (of the queer happenings)
Page 142, "supose" changed to "suppose" (I suppose we've)
Page 147, "putties" changed to "puttees" (their puttees protected)
Page 181, "tournaquet" changed to "tourniquet" (making a tourniquet)
Page 190, "too" changed to "to" (going to tell you)
Page 193, "Allen" changed to "Allan" (direction, too," added Allan)