The Boy Scouts in the Blue Ridge Part 27

"Coffee!" echoed Mr. Quail, as though the very sound of the word touched his inmost feelings; "it'll seem like nectar for the G.o.ds just to smell it again, after--but no matter, it was the best they had, and I oughtn't to say anything."

All the same Thad noticed that his steps quickened a little, and he seemed to sniff the air from time to time, as if in imagination he could already catch a faint whiff of the treat in store for him.

As they drew closer to the camp Thad could see that some of the boys were sitting there. Perhaps they had been too anxious to even try and sleep; though he believed he knew of one at least who could never have held out all this while, no matter how strong his determination.

Waiting until they had arrived within a certain distance, and there was no evidence that any one had noticed the descending lantern, Thad gave vent to a call. It was the bark of the fox, and used by the members of the patrol as a signal in case they wished to communicate with one another.

He saw the figures about the fire quicken into life. They seemed to jump to their feet, and stare about them, as if unable to understand what that call meant.

A little to the surprise of Thad his signal was repeated from a point close by, and immediately Allan Hollister showed up. Undoubtedly the Maine boy had been scouting around the borders of the camp, seeking to guard against any surprise. He had watched the coming of the group with the lantern, and guessed that two of them must be the missing comrades, Thad and Bob.

When they all stalked into camp, the boys were thunderstruck to see Old Phin and his daughter, apparently on the best of terms with their comrades; and as for the tall man with the long hair and beard, they could easily guess who he must be by the way Bob Quail clung to his hand.

Then b.u.mpus called for three cheers, and they were given with a vim that made the valley echo from side to side. Possibly some of those moons.h.i.+ner videttes must have started up, wondering what on earth could be occurring in the camp of the Boy Scouts.

There was little chance that any of the boys would get a wink of sleep during the remainder of that eventful night. Long did they sit there by the revived fire, watching Mr. Quail drink his coffee, cup after cup, and listening to the strangest story they had ever heard. Even when finally, along about three in the morning, they were induced to lie down upon their various beds of leaves and gra.s.s, sleep must have utterly refused to visit their eyes, save in the case of b.u.mpus himself; and he could drop into slumber in almost "any old position, even if he were hanging by his heels," as Giraffe used to say.

And so the night pa.s.sed away, and another morning found them, red-eyed but joyful beyond compare; for they felt that their great hike among the mountains had turned out to be the finest thing possible, both for their comrade, Bob, and themselves.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

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 moons.h.i.+ners 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 moons.h.i.+ne 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 moons.h.i.+ner 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 pa.s.sed, 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 Was.h.i.+ngton; 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, b.u.mpus 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 doc.u.ment, 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 antic.i.p.ated.

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 cl.u.s.tered 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 b.u.mpus. "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, b.u.mpus," 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.

"h.e.l.lo! 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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.sed 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 b.u.mpus, 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 b.u.mpus.

"Another for Maine, with the Saskatchewan country of Canada second,"