HELPING NOODLES
"Oh! he fell over!" shouted Eben, appalled by what had happened.
"Poor old Noodles! What if he's gone and broke his neck?" gasped Jotham,
turning a reproachful look upon Fritz.
"I didn't mean to go as far as that, fellows, give you my word for it!"
Fritz in turn was muttering, for he had been dreadfully alarmed when he
saw poor Noodles vanish from view in such a hasty fashion.
"Listen!" cried Andy.
"Hellup!" came a faint voice just then.
"It's Noodles!" exclaimed Fritz, scrambling over in the direction of the
spot where they had seen the last of their unfortunate chum.
"Oh! perhaps he's gone and fractured his leg, and our family doctor,
meaning Paul, ain't along!" groaned Eben.
All of them hastened to follow after the eager Fritz, and on hands and
knees made for the edge of the shelf of rock, from which in times past
they had sent many a flag signal to some scout mounted on the roof of
his house in town.
Fritz had more of an interest in discovering what had happened to the
vanished scout than any of his comrades. Possibly his uneasy conscience
reproached him for having thrust out his foot in the way he did, and
sending poor Noodles headlong to his fate.
At any rate he reached the brink of the descent before any of the rest.
They unconsciously kept their eyes on Fritz. He would serve as a
barometer, and from his actions they could tell pretty well the
conditions existing down below. If Fritz exhibited any symptoms of
horror, then it would afford them a chance to steel their nerves against
the sight, before they reached his side.
Fritz was observed to crane his neck, and peer over the edge of the
shelf. Further he leaned, as though hardly able to believe his eyes.
Then, when some of the rest were holding their breath in expectation of
seeing him turn a white face toward them, Fritz gave vent to a hoarse
laugh. It was as though the relief he felt just had to find a vent
somehow.
Astounded by this unexpected outcome of the near-tragedy the others
hastened to crawl forward still further, until they too were able to
thrust out their heads, and see for themselves what it was Fritz seemed
to be amused at.
Then they, too, chuckled and shook with amusement; nor could they be
blamed for giving way to this feeling, since the spectacle that met
their gaze was comical enough to excite laughter on the part of any one.
Noodles was there all right; indeed, he was pretty much in evidence, as
they could all see.
In falling it happened that he had become caught by the seat of his
stout khaki trousers; a friendly stump of a broken branch connected with
a stunted tree that grew out of the face of the little precipice had
taken a firm grip upon the loose cloth; and since the boy in struggling
had turned around several times, there was no such thing as his becoming
detached, unless the branch broke.
"Hellup! why don't you gif me a handt?" he was shouting as he clawed at
the unyielding face of the rock, while vainly endeavoring to keep his
head higher than his flying heels.
While it was very funny to the boys who peered over the edge of the
shelf, as Noodles would have an ugly tumble should things give way, Andy
and Seth quickly realized that they had better get busy without any more
delay, and do the gallant rescue act.
Had Paul been there he would have gone about it in a business-like way,
for he was quick to grapple with a problem, and solve it in short order.
As it was a case of too many cooks spoiling the broth, one boy suggested
a certain plan, only to have a second advanced as a better method of
getting Noodles out of his unpleasant predicament.
Meantime the poor fellow was kicking, and turning, and pleading with
them not to go back on an old chum, and leave him to such a terrible
fate.
"Der rope--get quick der rope, undt pull me oop!" he wailed.
"That's so, boys, Noodles has struck the right nail on the head!" cried
Seth. "Here, who's carrying that rope right now?"
"Noodles has got it himself, that's what!" exclaimed Eben.
"Did you ever hear of such rotten luck, now?" demanded Seth.
"Hold on!" interrupted Andy, "seems to me I remember seeing him lay
something down over here. Let me look and find out. Whoop! here she is,
boys! That's what I call great luck. Seth, suppose you see if you can
drop the loop over his head."
"Pe sure as you don't shoke me, poys!" called out the dangling object
below, in a manner to prove that he heard all they said.
"Get it over his feet, Seth; then we can yank him up. He won't mind it
for a short time. Some of his brains will have a chance to run back into
his head that way," suggested Eben.
"Make quick, blease!" wailed the unhappy scout, who was growing dizzy
with all this dangling and turning around. "I hears me der cloth gifing
away; or else dot dree, it pe going to preak py der roots. Hurry oop!
Get a moof on you, somepody. Subbose I want to make some squash pie down
on der rocks?"
But Seth was already hard at work trying to coax that noose at the end
of the dangling rope to fall over the uptilted legs of the unfortunate
scout.
"Keep still, you!" he shouted, when for the third time his angling
operations were upset by some unexpected movement on the part of the
struggling boy. "Think I c'n lasso a bucking broncho? Hold your feet up,
and together, if you want me to get you! There, that's the way.
Whoop-la!"
His last shout announced sudden success.
Indeed, the loop of the handy rope had dropped over the feet of Noodles,
and was speedily drawn tight by a quick movement on the part of the
operator.
The balance of the boys laid hold on the rope and every one felt that
the tension was relieved--that is, every one but Noodles, and when he
found himself being drawn upward, with his head down, he probably
thought things had tightened considerably.
As the obliging branch saw fit to let go its tenacious grip about that
time, of course Noodles was soon drawn in triumph over the edge of the
shale, protesting more or less because he was scratched in several
places by sharp edges of the rock.
"Hurrah for Scout tactics; they count every time!" exclaimed Eben.
Fritz was unusually solicitous, and asked Noodles several times whether
he had received any serious hurt as a result of his strange experience.
The German boy felt himself all over, grunting several times while so
doing. But in the end he announced that he believed he was all there,
and beyond a few minor bruises none the worse for his adventure.
"Put you pet me I haf a narrow escape," he added, seriously. "How far
must I haf dropped if dot pully oldt khaki cloth gives vay?"
"All of twenty feet, Noodles," declared Andy.
"Dwenty feets! Ach, petter say dree dimes dot," asserted Noodles. "I
gives you my word, poys, dot it seemed I was on der top of a mountain,
mit a fine chance my pones to preak on der rocks pelow. Pelieve me, I am
glad to pe here."
"I hope you don't think I did that on purpose, Noodles?" asked Fritz,
contritely.
The other turned a quizzical look upon him.
"Tid for tad, Fritz," he remarked, "iff I had nodt peen drying to choke
mit you meepy I might nodt haf met with sooch a shock. Petter luck nexdt
time, hey?"
"I don't know just what you mean, Noodles, blest if I do," remarked
Fritz, with a puzzled look on his face, "but I agree with all you say.
This practical joke business sometimes turns out different from what you
expect. I'm sure done with it."
But then, all boys say that, especially after they have had a little
fright; only to go back to their old way of doing things when the shock
has worn off. And the chances were that Fritz was far from being cured
of his habits.
"How lucky we had the rope along," ventured Jotham, who was coiling up
the article in question at the time he spoke.
"I always said it would come in handy," remarked Eben, quickly and
proudly, "and if you stop to think of the many uses we've put that same
rope to, from yanking a fellow out of a quicksand, to tying up a bad man
who had escaped from the penitentiary, you'll all agree with me that
it's been one of the best investments we ever made."
"That's right," echoed Seth, always willing to give credit where such
was due.
"Ketch me ever going into the woods without my rope," declared Eben.
"Well, do we make that start for home and mother and supper right now;
or are we going to stay here till she gets plumb dark?" asked Fritz,
impatiently, moving his feet out of the way every time anyone approached
too closely, as though possessed by a fear lest he be tempted to repeat
his recent act.
"Come on, everybody," said Eben, making a start, "I refuse to hang out a
minute longer. Seems like I c'n just get a whiff of the steak a sizzling
on the gridiron at our house; and say, when I think of it, I get wild.
I'm as hungry as that bear that came to our camp, and sent us all up in
trees like a covey of partridges."
"If you're as hungry as that after just an afternoon's signal practice,
think what'll happen when we've been hiking all day, and covered our
little forty or fifty miles?" suggested Andy, chuckling.
"Oh! come off, Andy, you don't really mean that, do you?" called out
Eben over his shoulder. "I'm good for twenty-five miles, I think; but
you give me a cold feeling when you talk about fifty. And poor old
Noodles here will melt away to just a grease spot, if the weather keeps
on as warm as it is now."
"Don't let him worry you, Eben," sang out Seth. "I heard Paul telling
how at the most we might try for thirty the second day, so as to get
ahead a bit. But what is going to count in this test is
regularity--keeping up an even pace each day of the four. And chances
are we'll own that fine trophy by the time we get back to Beverly
again."
"Didn't I hear something about our having to register at a lot of places
along the way?" asked Jotham.
"Yes, I believe that's a part of the game," replied Seth. "It's only
right, just to prove that we haven't cut across lots, and shirked any.
Mr. Sargeant and the two members of the committee mean to wait up for us
at each station, and kind of keep an eye on us. I guess they want to
encourage us some, too, when we come in, dusty and tired and feeling
pretty near fagged out.
"Some of the other fellows, Steve Slimmons, Arty Beecher, and two more,
who expect to start our second patrol in the fall, wanted to go along
with us; but Mr. Sargeant preferred to limit it to just the Beavers. He
said we were seasoned scouts by this time, while the other fellows might
be called tenderfeet; and it would be a pity to run chances of losing
the prize, just because one of them softies fell down."
Fritz offered this explanation, and somehow at mention of Steve
Slimmons' name a slight smile could be seen flitting across more than
one face. For well did the scouts remember when this same boy had been
accounted one of the toughest lads in all Milltown, as that part of
Beverly across the railroad tracks was called.
At that time he had been called "Slick" Slimmons, and in many ways he
deserved the name, for he was a smooth customer. But circumstances had
arisen, as told in a previous volume of this series, whereby Steve had
gone through a rather serious experience, and had his eyes opened to the
fact that in leading such a wild life he was carrying the heavy end of
the log.
He had broken with the tough crowd of which he had been a member up to
then, and now was hand in glove with Paul Prentice and his scouts, in
fact considered himself a member of Beverly Troop.
The active lads found little trouble in negotiating the descent leading
down to level ground. Even Noodles had become many times more agile than
before he donned the magical khaki of the scouts; for the various duties
that had to be performed from time to time by every member of the patrol
had done wonders for the slow moving German-American boy.
With their goal now in sight, the six scouts started off at a lively
pace. If any of them felt in the least bit tired he was evidently
determined not to show it to his comrades, or any one they might happen
to meet on the road leading to Beverly. Pride is a great thing at
certain times, and helps ride over many difficulties.
So, in due time they separated, each fellow heading toward his own home.
And the last words they called back to each other were in connection
with the great hike upon which they expected to start on the following
morning, which would be Tuesday.
Many anxious looks were cast upward toward the blinking stars that
night, and speculations indulged in as to the probable kind of weather
that would be doled out to them while on the road.
And more than one scout lay awake long after he went to bed, trying to
lift the curtain that hid the future, just a little way, so as to get a
peep of what was waiting for the Beaver Patrol, but of course without
the least success.