Sure Pop and the Safety Scouts Part 17

If Bruce had not cared more for his little golden-haired daughter than for anything else in the world, he never would have thought such a thing, much less said it; for he had had Jennings for years, and knew him for the safest, steadiest of drivers. But he scowled when the clerk hurried back to report that Jennings, with Bonnie in the biggest automobile, had left for the office almost an hour before.

Throwing his light coat over his arm, the big mill owner slammed down his rolltop desk and dashed out to the sidewalk, straining his eyes for a glimpse of the big automobile and Bonnie's flying curls. As he stood waiting on the curb, fuming at the delay, suddenly he heard a voice that sent his heart up into his throat.

"Daddy! Oh, Daddy, here we are!" The big automobile swept swiftly up to him--from the opposite direction!

"My Bonnie!" The big man s.n.a.t.c.hed the dimpled, smiling girl into his strong arms and held her there.

In the excitement of the moment, Jennings interrupted his employer as the mill owner started to question him sternly as to the cause of the delay. Bonnie, too, broke in with her version of the story, and together they told him how a punctured tire had held them up fifteen minutes just as they were leaving the house in plenty of time.

They told him how, to avoid being late at the office, Jennings had taken the old short cut across to the mills, by the way of Red Bridge, only to be halted by a lad of fourteen who waved a red handkerchief at them and barred the way across the bridge in spite of the chauffeur's argument and threats.

They told him how a heavy lumber wagon, in which three farm hands were rattling home from the city, had come bouncing along to the other side of the river and how the men had howled down the boy's wild warnings and entreaties as they bowled on to Red Bridge as fast as their horses could go.

Bruce's stern face went white as his little daughter, shuddering at the awful memory of it, told how the bridge had gone cras.h.i.+ng down into the river--men, horses, and all; how the boy who had tried so hard to warn them had almost given his own life trying to drag the drunken farm hands from the swift-running current; how two of the men had never come up again; and how the third, towed to sh.o.r.e by the half-drowned boy a quarter mile below, had been laid face down on the river bank as soon as the boy could catch his own breath long enough to get the water out of the man's lungs and start him to breathing again.

Still clasping Bonnie tightly to him, her father got into the automobile. "Home, Jennings. Why, what makes these cus.h.i.+ons so wet?"

"Oh," said Bonnie, "that's where that nice boy sat while we were taking the almost drowned man to the doctor's. Then we took the nice boy home--he was so wet and s.h.i.+very."

"Take us there first, Jennings, then home."

The big car whirled swiftly back to Chance Carter's house. Bruce found Chance with his hair still wet, but triumphant. He was telling his father exactly how he wanted his new Safety Scout uniform made, patch pockets and all!

From him Bruce got the whole story, clear down to the scouting hints from Bob and Betty that had started him off that morning. The mill owner took Mr. Carter aside and made him promise to send the bill for that uniform to Bruce's Mills. "Where do this other boy and the girl live?"

he asked, as he and Bonnie got back into the machine. "All right, Jennings, we'll stop there next."

"I think, sir," suggested Jennings, "that must be the same boy and girl we took home from Turner Hall last Fourth--the boy who put the splint on this other lad's broken leg, sir. It's the same house, anyway."

Sure enough, when they drew up at the curb, there were Bob and Betty in their Safety Scout uniforms, just going in to their birthday supper.

They were going to have a big double cake, with lots of frosting and with twenty-four green candles on it--green for Safety, Betty explained--and they were so excited over having pa.s.sed their examinations with such high marks, that it was some time before the big man could make them understand what he was getting at.

"What I want to know," persisted Bruce, "is how you ever came to put that Carter boy up to such a stunt as that. What difference did it make to _you_?"

"Why," Betty told him, "we simply had to help him get a start for his uniform and his Safety First b.u.t.ton. But we couldn't do much because we didn't have time. You see this is our birthday, and we had to go for our examinations." Before Bruce left they had given him _their_ whole story, too, and a good deal more than they had intended telling him, forgetting what Colonel Sure Pop had told Uncle Jack about the way Bruce had been holding back the Safety First work from Maine to California.

Bruce said little as he listened to their story, but he did some quick thinking. So this was the sort of thing he had fought so long and so stubbornly--this "Boost for Safety" talk which he had called "new-fangled theory," but to which he owed the life of his own little girl!

As they talked, two Scouts came into the front hall to remind the twins that their birthday supper was waiting, but Bruce was too interested to see them. Quick at reading signs, as all good Scouts are, Colonel Sure Pop and Uncle Jack watched and listened for a moment, then smilingly went back to the supper table.

"You were right, Colonel, as usual," said Uncle Jack, heartily. "Bruce is coming around. He'll be the biggest Safety Booster in the whole United States before morning!"

"Sure pop!" exulted the dapper little Colonel. "I'll have to wire my King about this day's work!"

It was long after Bonnie's bedtime, and the nurse waiting in the hallway was beginning to wonder if her little mistress was never coming upstairs. On the avenue outside, in the soft, mellow Hallowe'en breeze, jack o' lanterns and soot bags were still being paraded up and down, horns blowing, rattles clattering. Two street urchins, bolder than the rest, crept up to the great iron gate in front of the Bruce mansion and vainly struggled to lift it off its hinges. Still the mill owner sat before the fire, Bonnie on his knee. He could not bear to let her go tonight, even to bed.

In the flames dancing on the hearth, the big man was seeing visions--visions of the Safety First work that would be started tomorrow morning in every mill in the whole Bruce chain. "I'll telegraph every manager to get busy on Safety work at once if he wants to hold his job,"

he thought to himself. "I won't lose another day!" For after hearing from the Dalton twins and from Chance Carter the way _their_ spare time was spent, his own work in the world seemed suddenly very small and mean. Here he--Bruce the rich, Bruce the powerful, with the safety of thousands of lives in the hollow of his hand--had been holding back the great work which these striplings had been steadily, patiently--yes, and successfully--building up!

"I'll send those three youngsters each a copy of my telegram in the morning," he muttered, looking more eager and enthusiastic than he had looked for many a day. "I'll write across the bottom of each telegram, '_The Safety Scouts of America did this!_' And the wonderful part of it is," he added, "that it's only what any boy and girl could do, every day of their lives. I wonder why somebody didn't start this Safety Scout idea long, long ago!"

Over in the Dalton cottage, only a few blocks away, Bob and Betty were going upstairs to bed.

"Many, many happy returns of the day!" whispered Betty to her brother as she kissed him good night.

"Same to you, and many of 'em! But our 'One Day's Boost for Safety'

didn't amount to much today, did it, Betty?" For Bob and Betty had yet to hear of Chance Carter's adventures, and Bruce had given them no hint.

"No, it didn't--not unless what we told Chance gave him a start toward a Safety Scout uniform," said Betty, sleepily. "Never mind, though, Bob,"

she added. "We'll try to do better tomorrow, if we didn't get much done today."

But over in the big stone house on the avenue, the silent man with the little golden-haired girl in his arms thought differently of their day's work.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

HOW CAN YOU TELL A GOOD SCOUT?

_In school_

_He keeps to the right on walks, in halls, going up and down stairs._

_He goes up and down stairs one step at a time._

_He looks where he runs._

_He doesn't jostle in a crowd._

_He doesn't bully the little fellows._

_He sees that the little chaps have a fair chance on the playground and that they don't get hurt._

_Out of school_

_He does not walk on railroad bridges or tracks._

_He does not walk around lowered gates or crawl under them._

_He does not jump off moving trains, cars, or engines._