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"Somebody'll get it--maybe," he said.
"I ain't thinking about that," I said, "I'm only thinking about how you did it, I--I don't want the signalling badge in my patrol now, honest I don't, Wig. I want it to stay where it belongs. And I want there to be only just the one in the troop. I got mad first. That's because I'm always getting mad, I guess. But there will never be any signalling badge in my patrol, Wig. That's going to be the rule."
"There'll be a Gold Cross though," he said. And then he shut his eyes.
But I stayed right there--just because--oh, I don't know, just because I wanted to stay right there. You can't always tell why you want to do a thing.
CHAPTER XI
LOST
Now when Wig said that about the Gold Cross I thought it was just because he was weak and didn't know what he was saying. Because, maybe you know as well as I do, that the Gold Cross isn't so easy to get.
Only one fellow in our troop ever got it, and that was Tom Slade. Maybe I took a chance when I went into all that smoke, I'm not saying I didn't, but if I got anything at all, it would be the Bronze Medal, I guess, but nix on the Gold Cross. You don't find gold crosses growing around on every bush, you can bet. Anyway, I didn't want any honor medal because I knew Wig wouldn't get one (because they're only for lifesaving) and gee, if he didn't deserve one, I'm sure I didn't.
Anyway this wasn't any time to be thinking about medals, because Artie Van Arlan was missing and that was the princ.i.p.al thing we had to think about. He wasn't on the house--boat, that was one sure thing, because we looked everywhere and couldn't find him. Wig said he remembered somebody speaking to him when he was lying there, and he guessed it must have been Artie. He didn't know what he said though.
The fellows were all excited about it, especially because the boat was just beginning to float, and we didn't know whether we'd better anchor there and wait to see if he turned up. Two of the fellows climbed down and swam around and the rest kept caning. It wasn't very deep yet and they could even feel around the flats, but they couldn't find him anywhere.
I went around and looked at the window and even then the cabin was filled with smoke, but not so thick. Believe me, I wished that Tom Slade was there then, because he's great on deducing and finding clues and all like that. That's why we always called him Sherlock n.o.body Holmes. Anyway, I couldn't make out what happened. Artie might have staggered up against the window to get air, but I didn't see how he could fall out, and if he was able to climb out then why didn't he come up where the rest of us were?
I couldn't make anything out of it; all I knew was he was gone. I knew he must have been drowned and his body been carried up by the tide, which was running up strong now.
Well, you can bet we didn't have any fun drifting up. n.o.body said anything much; we just sat around the edge of the deck with our staffs and pushed her off, whenever she ran against the sh.o.r.e.
Charlie Seabury sat next to me and after a while he said, "Who's going to tell his people?"
"I am," I told him, "because I'm to blame for the whole business."
"n.o.body's to blame," he said.
"Yes, I am," I said, "they just did it on account of me."
"That's because all the fellows like you," he said, "and they like to do anything for you."
Anyway, it wasn't so necessary, I see that now, and it's just the same as if I killed him. Gee, I wish it was I that got killed, I know that.
Cracky, I deserved to after being such a fool.
After that, n.o.body spoke for a long time, then Hunt Ward, who's in the Elk Patrol, said, "It's the first fellow in our troop that died. I guess we won't go up to camp now."
"Not in this boat, anyway," I said.
Then after a while I said, "We'll send his name in and they'll print it in Boys' Life."
"I know," Hunt said, "with a black line around it."
Yet we kind of kept hoping all the time, even though we knew there wasn't any sense in it. "You thought you were a goner," Hunt said, "and you came back all right."
Now I was a big fool that it didn't put a certain idea in my head when he said that, but I only said, "Yes, but that was different."
Then Dorry Benton, who was two or three fellows away from me, said, "One thing is sure, he went through the window and into the water.
Maybe he was half conscious and didn't remember there was only a narrow strip of deck there. And he must have tumbled right off it."
"I don't know," I said, "only if he isn't in the boat then he must be in the water and if he fell in the water and couldn't swim or shout either, then he must be drowned."
Then n.o.body said anything and we just sat there keeping her off sh.o.r.e and watching her drift up. When we got around Bentley's turn we could see the lights in Bridgeboro and then was when I began to realize and I hated to get home. I wished the tide wouldn't take us so fast. Some of the fellows walked around on the roof, but none of them said anything. I wished it was me instead of Artie, I know that. I ought to have been satisfied to escape without getting the Ravens to do that--I mean send that message for me. Anyway, I made up my mind I'd be the one to tell Mr. Ellsworth about it, and Artie's people too, and I'd take all the blame.
I guess n.o.body said anything more all the way up, until we came near the Field Club landing. The sh.o.r.e is like low cliffs here and after we got her over against it, a couple of the fellows got out and towed her along with ropes, till we came to the long float.
"Are we going to tie her at the float?" Connie Bennett asked, very sober like. Gee, it sounded funny to hear someone speak. Doc Carson said, "Yes." He was kind of like head of the three patrols now, because he has the most sense of all of us, I guess, and Tom Slade, who is head of the Elks, is away and I decided, all of a sudden, that I wasn't much of a patrol leader, and Artie--he was--he wasn't there.
"Look out for that canoe," somebody said, just as we were coming alongside the float. "They shouldn't have left it there," Connie said; "that's no place for a canoe." I guess we were all kind of nervous and cranky like. Then I saw that there was a black figure sitting on the lowest step of the boathouse. I was just going to call "Who's there?"
when Doc said, "Pull that canoe out of the way before we smash it in."
So I jumped off onto the float and grabbed the canoe, and g-o-o-d night!
it was my Indian dugout.
CHAPTER XII
ARTIE'S ADVENTURE
Then I heard one of the fellows shouting "Look who's here!" and I saw the fellow who had been sitting on the steps coming toward the float and I could tell it was Artie Van Arlen. Then I could hear Pee-wee dancing on the cabin roof and screaming, "The plot grows thicker! The plot grows thicker!"--good night, the kid was almost having a fit.
"If it wouldn't be too much trouble," I said to Artie, "would you please relate your adventures, I see that you're not dead."
"Well, not so you'd notice it," he said, "but I guess I came pretty near it."
Then I could see he was all in and must have had a pretty hard time of it, but I couldn't help kidding him, because I was feeling so good to know he was safe. Believe me, that fellow had some adventure.
"It was lucky for me," he said, "that you tied this crazy canoe or whatever you call it-"
"That is an Indian dugout, if anyone should ask you," I said, "and if I wanted to sell it to an antiquary--"
"A what?" Pee-wee shouted down from the cabin roof.
"An antiquary," I said; "comes from the Latin word aunt and the Chinese word query, meaning to ask questions--otherwise the same as Pee-wee. As I was saying, if I wanted to sell it to an antiquary I could get a large check for it."
"How large?" Pee-wee shouted.
"About eight inches by two and a half inches; now, shut up!" I said.
Cracky, you should have heard those fellows laugh.
"Well, whatever it is," said Artie, "it's lucky for me that you tied it just under the cabin window, because I fell into it--I fell in good and hard."