Sure Pop and the Safety Scouts Part 3

"A minute or two and out he came again with a bag of salt and sprinkled the steps with it. Though he was in just as big a hurry as our friend the wizard, the Safety First idea had got him, and he plainly had made up his mind to begin right then and there.

"'Well, I declare!' I said to myself. 'I've a notion to muster him into the scouting service--but what would the King say to my enrolling a pigmy?' Just as I was wondering about it, down he went again, flat on his little back!

"This time it was on the sidewalk in front of his house. Some careless youngster had thrown a banana skin on the walk. Poor little pigmy, what a b.u.mp he did get that time! But again he picked himself up, and this time he didn't wait a moment--just poked the banana skin off into the gutter where it could do no more harm.

"Such persistence was too much for me! I told him the King wanted him for the royal army of Safety Scouts, and that he was to have the honor of being the first one enrolled. His eyes fairly popped out of his head as he listened, and before you could say 'Jack Robinson,' he had scampered off to help me raise an army--with one of these b.u.t.tons in the lapel of his leather jerkin."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Universal Safety]

Sure Pop pulled a sparkling b.u.t.ton out of his pocket and laid it before the twins.

"There, that's the Safety Scouts' badge of honor, and no Scout can wear one till he earns the right. The King himself designed it."

"My! I wish--!" The twins remembered their manners and stopped short, but Sure Pop understood. He threw back that wise little head and how he did laugh!

"You wish--eh? That's what they all say, the minute they lay eyes on that b.u.t.ton! You see, that's a magic b.u.t.ton, so it's no wonder everybody wants one. Friends, that b.u.t.ton can _talk_!"

Bob stared at the b.u.t.ton as if he couldn't believe his ears. Betty, taking Sure Pop at his word, grabbed the b.u.t.ton and laid it to her ear.

She gave a squeal of delight.

"It does! It does talk--doesn't it?" she cried.

"Sure pop it does!" laughed the Safety Scout. "That's all it can say, just four words at a time--but those four are enough to save thousands of lives every year."

"What four words?" yelled Bob, clapping the magic b.u.t.ton to his ear. How his jaw dropped when he heard--or seemed to hear--the magic b.u.t.ton's words, four words he will never, never forget, even if he lives to be a hundred years old!

"_Safety First_," whispered the magic b.u.t.ton in his ear. "_Get Busy!_"

Bob sprang to his feet, so startled that he nearly dropped the b.u.t.ton.

"Get busy?" he echoed. "Well, let's!"

"And let's be quick about it," chimed in Betty. "I want to earn one of those magic b.u.t.tons myself."

"Here too!" Bob whirled around to Sure Pop. "But we'll have to get the soil ready first, won't we, just as the King told you? So the seed won't be wasted, you know."

"That's the first move, Bob. Waste is something no Scout can bear to see. Waste of life, waste of health, waste of time, waste of food--even waste of money seems a crime to a Safety Scout."

Betty was thinking hard. "Then before we can plant the Safety First idea in other people's minds, shan't we have to start it growing in our own, Sure Pop?"

"Sure pop, we shall! And now listen, friends. When I first came to America, after years of Safety training among my own people, I took up the task of planting the Safety First idea among the great American mills and factories. Some day I'll tell you about those years of Safety work among the mill hands, but just now what I want to explain is this: when I had got the work well established among the mills, I thought at first that my work in America was finished; but the more I thought it over, the plainer it became that my most important work still lay before me."

"Your most important work," echoed Betty. "What do you mean, Sure Pop--teaching Safety to the President of the United States?"

"No, Betty. A far more important work than that--teaching Safety to children. I saw that by making Safety Scouts out of the boys and girls, I should be solving the whole problem of the years to come--for workmen, Presidents, and all. So I drew a long breath and started in again, this time in America's homes.

"Now how do you suppose I came to choose your home to begin on? Just as I was wondering which house to tackle first, I overheard Bob wis.h.i.+ng he had Uncle Jack's life of adventure--though the United States has more real adventure to the square mile than all South America put together!"

"You don't mean it? Why, this is a civilized country!"

"You Americans think so, Bob. And you're trying to bring about world-wide peace, because you feel that war is out of place in civilized life. But what about the thousands you kill and the millions you wound every year? More than you killed and wounded, remember, in the whole Civil War. What about that? Does that sound so very civilized?

"You want adventure. Good! You shall have it--early and often. And you won't have to go to any other country to find it, either."

"Well," said Bob, "here's hoping. What comes first?"

"First, we must get our eyes and ears open. That's the first thing for any Scout to learn, and he isn't good for much until he gets the habit of noticing things. Scout-craft means reading signs in everything you come across and acting on little silent hints that most folks wouldn't notice.

"Now, to begin with, here are three practical rules for you to bear in mind--three things we found out in our first year of Borderland Safety Scouting: First, a true Scout is always on the alert. Second, a Scout always keeps cool. Third, a Scout does one thing at a time. Do you suppose you can remember these three things?"

"That's easy," said Betty.

"Easy as anything," said Bob. "Keep wide awake, keep cool, and keep your mind on one thing at a time. Three 'keeps'--anybody can remember them!"

"Think so?" Sure Pop's voice sounded surprisingly far away. "All right, we'll see!" And before the twins' very eyes he faded away into thin air!

_A true Scout is always on the alert._--SURE POP

[Ill.u.s.tration]

ADVENTURE NUMBER FIVE

THE MAGIC b.u.t.tON'S WARNING

"He's gone!" Bob and Betty stared at each other. For a moment the whole thing seemed like a dream, and they hated to think of waking up.

"But it _was_ real!" Bob turned the magic b.u.t.ton over and over in his hand, glad to have something left to prove the reality of their new friend, something they could still see and touch.

"We can't wear that b.u.t.ton, though," Betty reminded him. "We've got to earn it first. What shall we do with it?"

Bob stuck it into his deepest pocket. "I'll hang on to it till Sure Pop comes back--if he does come back. Oh, h.e.l.lo, Joe!"

Joe Schmidt, a wiry boy of Bob's own age, but fully half a head shorter, turned around and gazed up at the Daltons' porch.

"Why, h.e.l.lo, Bob! What are you doing?"

"Nothing." Bob ran down the steps and began talking with Joe. In fact, the two lads were so busy talking that they did not see George Gibson till he purposely b.u.mped into Joe's back with a sudden "Hey, there! Get off the walk!"

Joe bristled like a ruffled sparrow. "Let's see you throw me off!" When George good-naturedly took him at his word, Joe clinched with him and managed to get a half-Nelson hold on him. Joe always went at things in dead earnest, anyway. Bob and Betty, laughing and shouting, hopped gleefully around the swaying wrestlers, Bob yelling encouragement to George, and Betty yelling just as hard for Joe.

Suddenly--was it just Bob's imagination?--something seemed to give a wiggle in his pocket--then a warning flop. It must be that magic b.u.t.ton!