The Banner Boy Scouts Part 12

No need to tell Paul that. He had just made the astounding discovery himself, and was thrilled with sudden horror.

It was a little boy who was tugging at the lines with a heroism worthy of one twice his size; but such a young person could make no impression on the hard mouth of that terrorized animal.

In the sudden whirl around the corner the lad had come very near being thrown but, and was even now unsteadily trying to regain his balance.

Paul knew that it was an occasion for quick thinking, and even faster doing!

He bounded away from the side of his chum as though on springs, leaving Jack standing there on the curb, filled with eager antic.i.p.ation, and fears.

It was not _toward_ the rapidly advancing horse that the boy ran, but in exactly the opposite direction, as though he were being chased. With the wagon flinging about from side to side, and hindering the progress of the runaway to some extent, Paul believed that he could almost hold his own in the race.

Little by little he meant to let the horse overtake him. Then, at just the right second his chance would come to jump at the animal's head, seize upon the lines close to the bit, and throw his entire weight upon them.

He knew that it called for good judgment, since the slightest mistake would be apt to cost him dear. To be thrown under the iron-shod hoofs of the galloping animal might mean making him a cripple for the rest of his life.

Even that possibility did not daunt Paul. He only saw the frightened face of the little chap who so valorously clung to the lines, and shouted shrilly at the top of his childish voice, as though expecting the usually tractable horse to mind.

A human life in peril--that was one of the cardinal points that must call for action on the part of a true Boy Scout. He might refuse to engage in a sanguinary battle with some rival who had dared him to a fight; but under no conditions must he hold back when the chance offered to do a good deed.

Now the horse was just behind him, and still galloping furiously. If anything, the animal was making more desperate headway than ever, for the outcries on every side seemed to add to his fright.

Every eye was focussed on the runner. One man in a vehicle had drawn in his horse, and with white cheeks watched the remarkable scene.

If any among that throng had reason to send up a silent prayer for the safety of that daring lad just then, surely he might. For the man in the buggy was Doctor Alan Morrison, Paul's own father!

Five seconds pa.s.sed, but it seemed an hour, a day, a life-time to that man, as his heart ceased to beat, and he gripped the reins convulsively in his clenched hands.

Then the heavens seemed to almost split with the sudden outburst of wild shouts that raced up and down that street.

"He's done it! Hurrah! The boy's stopped him! Bully for Paul Morrison!"

Men shouted, boys shrieked, while women embraced in their tears. The tense strain was over, for willing hands had clutched the lines after Paul's weight had brought the wild runaway to a staggering halt; and the danger was past.

Then ensued a wild scene, everybody trying to get hold of the boy who had known what to do in an emergency, and not only that, but had done it.

Confused, overwhelmed, Paul in the great confusion tried to flee; but while he did manage to duck under many of the hands outstretched to clutch him, it was only to dart into the arms of some one who pressed him to his heart.

And looking up the boy saw above him the face of one whom he loved--his father, who had been a witness to his adventure.

"That was well done, my boy; and I'm glad I saw it!" was all the good doctor said; but Paul never forgot the proud look that accompanied the words.

It would return to him many times in the distant future, when he might be tempted by the fascinations of the world to turn aside from the narrow path which he had chosen to tread; and must ever be a guide and beacon for his footsteps.

Then came Jack, with William, Tom Betts and Bluff s.h.i.+pley, all nearly wild over the fact that it was their chum who had acquitted himself so well.

Before Paul could make his escape he found his hand gripped by the father of the child in the wagon, who happened to be a prosperous farmer, with whom Doctor Morrison was well acquainted.

"I never could tell you what I think about this, my boy," he said, with deep feeling. "The child's mother'll never forget you, be sure of that.

And it ain't right for me to offer you any reward for doing such a fine thing; but I want you to buy something with this ten dollars, that every time you look at it you'll remember little Tod Perkins, what owed his life to you."

"Oh! I couldn't think of it, Mr. Perkins. Why, it was just pie to me, you know. Please don't make me take it!" said the boy, still more confused; but the farmer had already turned away to embrace his child, and there seemed nothing for it but to accept the gift.

"Don't offend him by refusing, Paul; he means well, and perhaps you can buy something with it that will serve as a reminder," said the doctor, always trying to avoid hurting other people's feelings.

"Why, sure, what's to hinder you buying your scout's uniform with it?"

declared William at this juncture.

"You certain earned it, if anybody ever did work for what they got!"

avowed Bobolink, positively.

"Oh! w-w-why wasn't it m-m-me?" wailed Bluff, in pretended grief.

"Say, do you think you could have nailed that runaway horse, with such an impediment twisting you up?" demanded Bobolink, grinning.

"Well, boys, since you say so, I suppose then I'll just have to accept it, and call my outfit earned by the sweat of my brow," laughed Paul, taking out his handkerchief to wipe his face from its collection of perspiration and dust.

CHAPTER X

AN UNEXPECTED OFFER

Paul and his chum managed to break away finally, and walk toward the home of the latter. Jack had his arm through that of the other, and it seemed as though he felt happier over the recent exploit than the one who had occupied the centre of the stage.

"My heart seemed to be up in my mouth just when you made that grab for the bit. I believe I would have fallen in a fit if you had gone under, Paul," said Jack, with a big sigh, as he pressed the arm he held.

"Well, I was a little worried myself that something might upset me just then. But luck favored me, you know. I'm more than glad, because it would have given my mother a bad shock if I'd been trampled on. But please drop that subject, old fellow," said Paul, making a wry face.

"I will, since you ask it; but they won't forget it in the town for a long time. Such things happen only once a year or more around dull old Stanhope. To-night we meet to see how many have the money earned for the suits; and I'm glad to say I can cover my needs. You're doubly supplied now, with this windfall."

"Yes, and I wish I could help some other fellow out; but I'm afraid that would be against the rules of the game. Here we are at your house, and bless me if Carlo hasn't carried that basket of provisions straight back to the kitchen door. Say, he _is_ a trump, sure enough, Jack."

"Oh! that's dead easy for Carlo. Why, we often put a nickel in the basket, and send him down to the bakery for a loaf of bread," laughed the other.

"And does he always get it?" asked Paul, looking suddenly interested.

"I don't believe he's failed for six months. Of course Mr. Crusty knows what we want, and wraps the loaf up so as to keep the dust off. Why, that ain't the best of his tricks, by a long shot. I taught him when he was hungry to go--"

"Excuse me, won't you, Jack; there comes father, and I do believe he's heading home long before his usual time. Perhaps he's afraid mother may hear that something has happened to me, and would be anxious. I'd better jump in with him, don't you think? Another time I'll hear all about the wonderful stunts of Carlo."

And so speaking Paul ran out to join his father in the buggy.

Jack looked after him, and sighed heavily. It was not that he felt a particle jealous of the recent exploit which his chum had engineered so successfully; for envy was not one of his failings. But he did wish that his mind was as free from anxiety and suspicion as that of Paul Morrison.

For the mystery of those disappearing coins hung about his neck like a millstone, nor could he ever know peace again until in some way it were explained.