The Boy Scouts of Bob's Hill Part 19

I'd laugh, too, only I am all out of breath from chasing the cow."

When he said that the girl burst out laughing again, and Skinny laughed with her. That made them feel acquainted.

"I guess I've got 'em, too," said he. "They must be catching. Well, I must be going now."

"My name is Mary Richmond," she told him, "I live in Holyoke and I am visiting over where you see that red barn."

"Mine is Gabriel Miller. I don't like the name very well. Gabe isn't so bad. The boys call me Skinny. I live down in the village and I am on a hike. I guess I'd better be going now."

"I don't see any."

"Any what?"

"What you said you were on, a hike."

"You will see one in about a minute. I am out for a long walk. I belong to the Boy Scouts and I've got to walk seven miles, camp out to-night, and come back to-morrow."

"My," said she, "you must be hungry--all that walking and--and--chasing the cow, too."

"I am," said Skinny, bracing up. "I believe I'll eat my lunch right here in the shade. Wish you'd stay and eat with me. I can cook some bacon."

Wasn't that a nervy thing to say? Skinny is brave when he gets started.

"It would be fine," she told him, "only Ma is expecting me at the house.

She is visiting, too. Wouldn't it be nicer for you to come with me?

They will be glad to see you because you saved me from the cow. I am awfully hungry and Grandma is the best cook. We're going to have lemonade. She told me so. Come on, do."

"Lemonade would taste good," he said, "if I only dast."

"Huh!" said she, tossing her head. "I thought that you were not afraid of anything."

"I ain't of a cow. This is different. Say, that was a swell song you were singing. I wish I knew it."

"I'll teach it to you after dinner, if you will come. If you don't you're a 'fraid cat."

"All right. I'll go if it kills me."

Skinny says that he never ate a dinner that tasted any better than that one did. Mrs. Richmond was scared when she heard about the cow and she couldn't say enough about how he had saved her little girl from a terrible death.

"That wasn't anything," he told her. "Scouts are always doing those things. I'm going to try to save somebody from drowning when I come back along the river to-morrow."

"I'll tell you a better stunt than that," said Mary's grandfather, winking one eye at the rest of the folks. "Why don't you go up to Savoy on the east mountain. That would make a walk of about seven miles from the village. You won't find anybody drowning up there, but several deer have been seen around there lately."

"Gee!" said Skinny, his eyes sticking out when he thought of the deer.

"If I only had a gun!"

"It's against Ma.s.sachusetts law to shoot deer. That's why they are getting so common. You have your rope. Maybe you can la.s.so one. There is no law against that, I guess."

"I'll do it," Skinny told him. "Bet your life the boys will be surprised when they see me bringing home a deer. Maybe I'll get two or three. Mr.

Norton didn't give me a message to anybody, so it won't make any difference which way I go."

"Don't get too many. We'd like to save a few. And be careful that some bear doesn't get you," went on Mr. Richmond, laughing to see how excited Skinny was. "They are not very common, but once in a while one is seen on the mountain."

"How do you get up there?"

"Go back to Pumpkin Hook. It isn't far, and then follow the road which turns east. It will take you right to Savoy. You will find a pretty good road all the way, and you won't have any more trouble than you would going to Ches.h.i.+re--unless," he added in a fierce voice that made Skinny jump, "unless A BEAR GETS YOU!"

"Now, father, don't scare the boy to death," said Mary's mother. "You know well enough there are no bears and the road to Savoy is a well-traveled one."

"Of course it is, or I shouldn't have suggested his going there. But there have been bears seen on the Savoy Mountain. I saw one myself, last year."

"Huh! I ain't afraid of no bear," put in Skinny, drawing himself up and looking fierce. "I tracked one once on Bob's Hill. It went up to Peck's Falls and hid in our cave. We smoked it out. I didn't have a gun or knife or anything, but I hit it with a s...o...b..ll."

You could have hung a hat on Mary's eyes when Skinny told them that.

"Was it a really and truly bear?" she asked. "And did it stand on its hind legs like in the circus pictures over at the Hook?"

"It stood on its hind legs, all right," he told her, "but it wasn't really a bear. We thought it was. It made tracks in the snow just like bear's tracks, but when we had smoked it out we found that it wasn't anything but a man."

"It was Jake Yost, a foolish feller," he explained, turning to Mr.

Richmond. "He had his boots on the wrong feet and wouldn't change them back for fear of changing his luck. That was what made his tracks look like bear's tracks."

It tickled them to hear about that, but it didn't tickle us boys much when it happened. It was too scary.

"If you will stop here on your way back to-morrow," said Mary's grandma, "we'll give you a nice dinner. I think you will be wanting one about that time. Mary may walk with you as far as the Hook, if you like, and show you the road."

"I think maybe I'd better go along, too, with my gun," said Mr.

Richmond, "on account of the bears."

"Don't you mind his nonsense," she said. "You run along."

So off they went together, Skinny with his rope and tomahawk and Mary with her red sunbonnet, but they kept away from the pasture.

From Pumpkin Hook Skinny went on alone, up the mountain road, whirling his tomahawk around his head and every little while pretending to la.s.so the enemy, because he knew that Mary was watching him from below.

Then pretty soon he came to a bend in the road. He turned and waved to her, and in a minute was out of sight.

CHAPTER XI

TREED BY A BEAR

I AM writing what happened to Skinny as if we found out all about it at once, which we didn't. He told us some of it the first time, with Bill sitting up and listening and Mr. Norton asking questions whenever Skinny began to run down. But every time we saw him after that for several days he would think of something more to tell, or something a little different, so that it took a long time before we felt sure that we knew all about it.

For instance, he didn't say much at first about Mary Richmond, the Holyoke girl, except the rescue part. He was afraid that the boys would make fun of him for walking down the mountain with a girl--but I haven't told about that yet. I am going to put everything in just when it happened, so that you can understand it better.