The Boy Scouts with the Red Cross

CHAPTER XIII.

WELL WORTH WHILE. They had managed to secure some of the garments belonging in the foreign settlement, perhaps by raiding a clothes line; and these garments they meant to scatter about the place. When, later, directed by some clue over the wire, perhaps, the authorities hurried to the old smithy and found the stolen child there, they would never have a single doubt but that the place had been occupied by a party of foreigners, and in this way the crime would be laid at the door of the strikers who had reason to hate Mr. Campertown. It was a miserable sort of game, Hugh thought, as he continued to watch the way the three hilarious ex-guards were carrying on, all of them having perhaps been drinking more than was good for them, as there were flasks in sight on the table. He could not understand just how they expected to profit by the deal; but possibly they had this all planned out; or it might be that revenge was all they wanted, which was meant to fall heavily upon both the strikers and the millionaire. Hugh had seen quite enough. He believed the child was in that other room beyond the door he had noticed in the wall. Several times he had discovered one of the men pointing in that direction, as though he might be referring to the innocent object of their treacherous raid. Hugh backed away and allowed others to take his place, so that by degrees all of the scouts could feel that they had been given a fair show. The next thing was how to go about the task of frightening the three men off, and preventing them from carrying the child in addition. Hugh was figuring all this over in his mind as he waited for the last detachment to creep up and take a look through the grimy window panes. Of course, there need be no great effort made to come in contact with the desperate trio. Their capture was not so much what the scouts were after as the recovery of the child. That was why Hugh began figuring in his mind upon a little scheme by means of which he believed they might beat the enemy at their own game. If these men could crawl through a convenient window and run away with the boy, possibly the resourceful scouts might adopt the same stratagem with a chance for success. Was there a window to the other room, and, if so, would they find it fastened up by a barricade in the shape of a heavy wooden shutter? The thought had hardly appealed to Hugh before he was drawing Ralph with him around the corner. “What’s the game now?” whispered that surprised scout, though he did not offer the slightest objection to being towed along, for he felt sure Hugh had hit on some clever device that might lead to the confusion of the foe. “I’m looking for a window,” replied the other, as near his ear as it was possible for him to place his lips. “One opening into that other room. I think the boy must be in there. We can give them tit for tat if it’s possible to get inside and carry off the child.” “But, Hugh, don’t you believe they’re meaning to abandon him, after setting that trap with all those dago things?” asked Ralph, proving that he, as well as the scout master, had guessed the true reason for the actions of the men. “Yes, it looks like it, but I’m afraid they may change their minds. ‘A bird in the hand is better than two in the bush,’ Ralph.” “Guess you’re right, Hugh; do whatever you think is best,” was what Ralph told the scout leader. It generally happened that way. Hugh’s plans appealed to his chums in an irresistible fashion. If there was some honest opposition at first, it usually gave way after he had disclosed his hand, and shown the real value of his idea. The window was soon found, and, as Hugh expected, there was a heavy wooden shutter guarding it. At first sight this would appear to have been a serious setback to any design the scouts might entertain looking to effecting an entrance. Hugh started an immediate investigation, and a satisfied grunt told his comrade that he had made a pleasing discovery. “I thought as much!” whispered the scout master, as he softly began to draw the wooden blind back. Like nearly everything else about the old rookery, it was in a dilapidated condition, and could not be securely fastened on the inside. The men may have drawn it shut, so as to conceal their light as much as possible, but found no occasion to spend any precious time in trying to mend the broken blind. As he continued to draw this obstruction back, Hugh began to see light within. He knew how this came, remembering that the door between the two rooms had been partly open. Gluing his eye to the cracked glass, he tried to discover evidences of the stolen child’s presence. There was some sort of bundle on the floor in one corner, and, while he could not just make it out in the dim light, he found reason to believe this must be little Reuben, still fast asleep. The next thing on the scouts’ program consisted of forcing the window and gaining an entrance. Hugh made a little test, and found that he could move the sash, although only with an effort. Ralph came to his assistance, having his hunting knife in hand, the point of which he inserted under the obstinate sash. This proved to be the right trick, and things were moving splendidly when there came an unexpected interruption. One of the scouts had the misfortune to sneeze violently; and, alarmed by the sound, the men inside could be heard making wildly for the door, evidently with the intention of effecting their escape from what might turn out to be a sudden trap! CHAPTER XIII. WELL WORTH WHILE. “Get around to the door, everybody; they’re trying to escape!” shouted Hugh, as he whirled away from the window that had been engaging his attention. Ralph was alongside as he turned the corner of the old smithy. The other scouts had hardly known what to do, although several of the most active seemed to be in motion, headed for the exit of the old house. These were Alec and Bud and big Tom Sherwood, and the trio presented quite a formidable phalanx. They turned the corner just in time to cut off the flight of the last of the abductors, who had tripped and fallen inside the room, thus delaying his departure for a few seconds. The other pair could be heard pounding off in rapid order, thoroughly frightened, for they had heard the cries that were coming from the boys, and of course imagined that the sheriff’s posse had arrived on their heels. There was enough light escaping from the open door for the third rascal to get a glimpse of khaki uniforms on the flitting figures that formed a cordon across his path. No doubt he believed on the spur of the moment that the militia must have been sent to the scene of the late riot to keep the peace, and that one of their first efforts had been to run himself and his fellow kidnappers down. The boys assailed him without hesitation. As scouts they had long ago learned the great value of assuming the offensive, if it ever became necessary to do any fighting, which is not often supposed to be the case. When Hugh and Ralph and the rest of the troop came hurrying around the corner they saw a struggling mass which no one could fully make out in the darkness. “Throw your light on them, Ralph!” ordered the scout master instantly. As soon as this was done they could see that their three comrades were hanging on desperately to the man, who seemed to be doing everything in his power to hurl them aside, though without avail. Alec had seized hold of one arm, while Bud hung to the other, and Tom Sherwood managed to get his arms twined around the fellow’s thick neck, so that he was beginning to exercise quite some pressure. At least the man looked fiery red, as if his breathing had become difficult. “Pile on, and throw him down, boys!” Hugh called out, and willingly as many of the others obeyed as could manage to get a grip on the object of their attention. By sheer weight of numbers the fellow was borne to the earth and rolled over on his face. Then his hands were drawn behind his back, and Billy Worth, producing a stout cord, lashed them together. After that he was unable to make any more trouble, or even try and effect his escape, for no one can run with any degree of swiftness when his arms are drawn tightly behind him. “Let him get up, and keep him held tight,” said Hugh. “Come with me, Ralph, and fetch your light along. Nurse Jones, you’re in this, too.” They hurried into the house and quickly reached the second room. Before Hugh or Ralph could reach the object on the floor, Nurse Jones had darted forward and was bending over it. As she arose, they saw that she was holding the limp figure of little Reuben in her arms. “What ails him?” asked Ralph in trembling tones, as he saw that despite all the noise and confusion the child did not appear to pay any attention. “They’ve given him some narcotic, for I can get the scent of it,” replied Nurse Jones. “It was done to keep him quiet while they were carrying him out of the office, for they must have been afraid of the sheriff and his men. But the effect is wearing away fast now. He begins to stir, and—there, you can see, his eyelids are quivering. He will wake up immediately.” Hardly had she spoken than the eyes of the child were seen to open. He stared up into the face of Nurse Jones as though bewildered. She held him tightly to her breast, and bending down pressed affectionate kisses on his cheeks. There must have been something responsive about her action that aroused his childish confidence, for almost immediately his little arms were around her neck. “Hurrah!” shouted Ralph Kenyon, quite overcome by the sight, and feeling that he must give voice to his excitement, or act like a baby and cry. “Let’s go outside with him, for the rest of the boys will want to have a share in the victory!” suggested Hugh, always thinking of others. Loud were the cheers that arose when they joined the rest of the troop. The dejected prisoner must have realized more than ever the bitterness of the moment, as he saw those gallant boys swinging their hats wildly above their heads, and giving vent to their feelings in rousing shouts. So they once more turned their faces back over the old trail. Hugh remembered that Mr. Campertown was suffering dreadfully, and he wanted to have Nurse Jones put the rescued child in his grandfather’s arms, because, somehow, that seemed a fitting end to the program according to Hugh’s mind. While there was little reason to anticipate any sort of attack from the other pair of alarmed plotters, still the scouts were not meaning to be taken off their guard. They formed a solid phalanx around Hugh, who was taking his turn at carrying the child, and kept those handy clubs ready for instant use. It turned out that there was no necessity for this arrangement, since in the end they arrived at the works without having met with the slightest hindrance. There were lights within the big office, and, having placed little Reuben in the arms of Nurse Jones, Hugh led the laughing and chattering lot of scouts within. The sheriff and Mr. Campertown had evidently been unable to sleep, and must have been trying to lay some new plan of campaign at the time the bustle at the door announced the arrival of the boys. Straight up to the millionaire walked Nurse Jones, holding little Reuben, while into the room after her thronged the entire pack of scouts, every fellow wild to witness what was scheduled to take place. Of course the first thing Mr. Campertown did was to clutch the boy and squeeze him in his arms. But almost immediately afterward he was seen to be staring in the pretty and flushed face of Nurse Jones. In that wonderful moment something like the amazing truth must have rushed into his mind, which would account for what he started to say in a trembling voice: “They told me your name was Nurse Jones, child, but surely you have the eyes and features of my first born, Allan. You are, you must be, a Campertown!” Nurse Jones nodded her head in the affirmative. “My name is Norma, the same as my father’s mother,” she told him. Mr. Campertown was as white as a sheet, as some of the boys expressed it afterward, but his eyes were fastened eagerly upon the flushed face of this granddaughter whom he had never known. “And it is from your hands I have received my little darling Reuben,” he almost groaned, as though he felt terribly humbled and contrite. “It must be intended for a punishment on my head for my cruelty to your father and mother in the long ago. Tell me, are you alone in the world, or do either or both of them yet live?” “My father is still living, sir, though in very poor health, and in need. He has always said that it was through no fault of his the estrangement came about, and in all these years he would not hear of my ever trying to see you or communicate with you. He is firmly convinced that if ever this unhappy trouble was to be bridged over, the initial step must come from his father. He has the Campertown stubbornness, sir, which will stay with him to the end.” “And it will come from me!” declared the millionaire firmly. “I have repented of my folly long, long ago, but never knew what had become of poor Allan. To-morrow, my dear granddaughter, you shall take me to him, and we must be reconciled. I am an old man now, and with but few years more to live. I hope to make up in part for what you and my son have suffered.” Then he turned to Hugh and shook him by the hand. Indeed he insisted on doing the same with each and every one of the scouts. “I will see you in the morning, my gallant boys,” he said, as they prepared to withdraw. “Depend on it, I have not forgotten that I made you a promise if you succeeded in restoring my darling to my arms. I can give a pretty good guess what it is you mean to ask of me, and I am more than ready to grant it in full.” It was a happy group of scouts who wended their way back to the camp, where the whole story of their latest achievement had to be retold to Harold and Monkey Stallings, whom they found sitting up and waiting for them. Indeed, they had reason to feel satisfied with what they had accomplished while on this their first outing of the summer. Not only had they been instrumental in instituting a scout field hospital, and taking care of the victims of the conflict between the strikers and the armed guards of the cement plant; but now they were apparently destined to be chiefly instrumental in bringing an era of industrial peace to that disturbed section. They could certainly go back to the home town when their camping trip was over with the pleasing knowledge that a good fortune had allowed them to be of tremendous service to their fellow men; and that is the cardinal principle actuating the ambition of every true scout. There promised to be very little sleep that night in the scouts’ camp. Everybody was more or less excited after the strange happenings that had so lately taken place. Questions without number were showered on those fortunate enough to have taken part in the adventures connected with the riot at the cement works, and the coming of the Red Cross ambulance. To Harold the whole thing was a revelation indeed, and he felt that it had been a privilege to be connected with the scouts whose assistance had turned out to be so appreciated. Monkey Stallings was almost inconsolable because he had not been able to join the group that went out to lend a helping hand. “Now all of you are slated for the bronze medal that I’ve always hoped to wear some of these fine days,” he complained, “and it leaves me out in the cold.” Of course the only consolation they could offer him was that his time was apt to come later on. Monkey Stallings was perhaps the only unhappy chap sitting alongside that cheery campfire, for the rest felt elated over their recent good luck, and it was only with considerable effort that Hugh managed to chase them off to their blankets. All were up early in the morning, for the day promised to be a lively one with them. Hugh and several of his chums meant to go over to the works, and have a plain talk with Mr. Campertown. While his heart was feeling soft over the wonderful revelations of the preceding night, Hugh believed was the time to secure favors for the strikers. Besides, the manufacturer had as good as half promised that he was ready to hear all Hugh had to say; and the hearty squeeze which he had given the boy’s hand told the latter that the land was fallow, and ready for the plow. Of course they had the usual rollicking time in preparing breakfast for the crowd. There had come over a bountiful amount of stores with the compliments of Mr. Campertown. This was pretty good evidence that he did not mean to keep those guards on duty any longer, feeding them inside the works. At least Hugh looked at it that way, and Arthur seemed of the same opinion. “It’s all going to come out the finest anybody could ever dream of,” the latter declared, as a party of them talked it over shortly after breakfast was done. “Just to think of Nurse Jones turning out to be his grandchild after all; and she the finest young woman we’ve met this long time,” remarked Billy Worth. “I expect I know a party who agrees with you there, Billy,” chuckled Alec; “and that’s the young Red Cross surgeon. I could see how Dr. Richter’s eyes were fastened on Nurse Jones as if he could nearly eat her.” “Well, that’s none of our affair,” replied Billy; “and she looks sweet enough to eat, if you’ll take it from me.” When Hugh got ready to go over to the works under the belief that Mr. Campertown could be seen, he selected just Billy, Alec and Arthur to accompany him. Seeing some of the rest look deeply disappointed, the patrol leader felt that he ought to explain. “Of course I’d like to ask you all to go with me, boys,” he said, “but the office is small; and besides, Mr. Campertown mightn’t like to see a crowd. You know this is a delicate subject we’re meaning to talk over with him, and his private business in the bargain. But we’ll promise to tell you everything. And then again, Nurse Jones has promised to take dinner with us to-day, so you want to tidy up the camp, and lay out a menu that’ll do us credit.” So Hugh and the other three went off. They saw that everything seemed to be very quiet over in the foreign settlement. “I guess the padrone has brought them to their senses,” said Billy; “and it’s a lucky thing, too, because they’re going to win the strike. The very thing that seemed to be a calamity for the poor fellows has proved the stepping-stone for a big advance.” “Better still,” added Hugh, “there’s a new Mr. Campertown now at the head of the cement works. By that I mean he’s seen a light, and guided by the love of his granddaughter never again will he be the stern employer he’s been in the past.” “It’s a grand good thing all around,” said Alec, “and for one I’m glad to have had even a small part in helping things get where they are right now.” At the works things seemed to be going on, but to the delight of the scouts they saw men working on the stockade. “Why, what do you think, they’re knocking the whole thing flat!” exclaimed Billy, as if the sight astonished him. As for Hugh, he felt that this was a sure sign peace was going to reign in those works from that hour on. Contented workmen would have no cause for grievance against a just and generous employer; and guards armed with deadly Winchesters would never again be known in the Campertown establishment. They found the gentleman seated in his little office. He was looking a hundred per cent. better than when they last saw him, and even smiled genially as he shook each one of the four boys by the hand. “I know of course just what you want to see me for this morning, boys,” he told them, “and in the start I mean to tell you that I’ve seen a great light. This bloody business would never have occurred if I had been present; but all the same I’m partly responsible for the trouble, because I refused to arbitrate with my old hands, or investigate their plea that they were nearly starving on the new wage plan. And I’ve sent for the padrone to make an agreement with him restoring wages to the point they were before the strike.” Enthusiastic Billy jumped up and gave a hurrah before he remembered where he was. Then he dropped back in his seat looking confused. But Mr. Campertown only laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “I want to say right here,” he remarked seriously, “that I consider the coming of you scouts the finest thing that could have happened. Not only did you prove yourselves made of the right stuff by taking care of those poor sufferers, and winning golden opinions from the surgeon, Dr. Richter, for whom I already have a high regard; but you also did me two of the greatest favors possible. You saved my little grandson, who is the apple of my eye, and also brought about a reunion between Norma, Allan and myself. I shall probably never be able to thank you enough for doing all these fine things.” There were actually tears in his eyes, too, when he was going around and again squeezing the hand of each and every scout. Just then the old padrone came in, and there was a piteous look of entreaty on his face that made the boys feel more satisfied than ever with what they had done. No sooner had Mr. Campertown informed the padrone what he meant to do than the old man fell on his knees, and seizing the gentleman’s hand covered it with kisses, as he called down the blessings of Heaven on his head. None of them could doubt after that his sincerity, or that he had the interests of his people deeply bedded in his heart when he tried to pilot them along paths of peace. Of course after that the sheriff and his posse had nothing further to do. Before he left the scene, however, the peace officer made it a point to visit the camp of the scouts and tell them what a high opinion he had come to have of the movement with which they were affiliated. Up to that time he had rather opposed it, but from that day when he had had his eyes opened, it had appealed to him more and more strongly. “I have some boys who will be only too glad to start a troop in their neighborhood,” he said at parting, “and so you see how far-reaching your influence for good can go. Keep up the work, lads, and the next generation of Americans will be the finest this glorious country of ours has ever produced.” Nurse Jones came over, too, and had dinner with the scouts. She thanked them with tears in her pretty eyes for all they had done. “We are just starting for the city, Grandfather Campertown, Reuben and I,” were her parting words, “and the future looks very bright for us all. My poor father, too, can now be able to enjoy something of life, since it is money he needs most of all in order to restore his health. And we will never, never forget you, Reuben and I.” She even pinned her Red Cross badge on Hugh’s sleeve, for him to keep as a reminder of these strenuous times when he and his comrades assisted the hospital corps in their duties in caring for the wounded strikers. During the rest of their stay in camp the boys saw more or less of Dr. Richter, and grew to like him very much. When, in time, they set their faces toward the far-distant home-town, they carried a new fund of experiences and memories along with them that would doubtless add to the general esteem in which Oakvale Troop was now held by the people among whom they dwelt. That their activities in the way of usefulness had not yet reached a limit may be understood from the title of the volume that follows this; and if you care to continue the many pleasant friendships formed in these pages, you can do so by procuring “The Boy Scouts as County Fair Guides.” THE END. Footnotes [1] See “The Boy Scouts of the Field Hospital.” Transcriber’s Notes Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public domain in the country of publication. Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and dialect unchanged. In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.) *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOY SCOUTS WITH THE RED CROSS *** Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed. 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