The Boy Scouts as Forest Fire Fighters

CHAPTER XIII.

RIGHT-ABOUT FACE! “Looks like an old friend to me,” said Don. “I know the farm-house isn’t far away now, and that means shelter from the rain in case it comes down—course I’m thinking of the kiddies here when I say that, you understand. A veteran scout has no need to be afraid of a little sprinkle, or even a ducking in the line of duty.” Hugh was feeling unusually proud of his three chums. Perhaps it was partly on account of the fine way in which Jack and Bud persisted in “toting” those two babes, and declining to let either of the others “spell” them even once. “It’s coming down faster now, boys!” declared Don. There could be no doubt about that, for they could feel the drops pattering on their campaign hats. But then the farm-house with its attendant outbuildings could be plainly seen now, and the chances were they would soon be under shelter. A rousing cheer attested to the fact that their approach had been discovered by some keen-eyed scout, who had communicated the pleasing intelligence to the others. There was good-hearted Mrs. Heffner waving her hand to them also, and evidently eagerly waiting to “mother” the children. So, presently the boys arrived, and just in good time, too, for as they passed in at the kitchen door of the farm-house, the rain commenced to fall in good earnest. It beat an increasing tattoo upon the roof of that kitchen, and the sound was sweet music to the ears of those boys. They knew what an invaluable ally that downpour would prove to be to those farmers whose property would otherwise soon have been threatened by the forest fires. “Go it, old rain!” shouted Monkey Stallings as he capered about after his usual nimble manner. “Do the thing right while you’re about it. We need lots and lots of that stuff right now! Don’t be a miser! Act generous! That’s something like it.” “Gee! listen to it come down, will you?” burst out Billy, as he pushed forward to join the circle around the three children, for Billy was unusually fond of all little ones. Mrs. Heffner had taken each of them in her motherly arms. Then, thinking they must be hungry, she hurried off to get some bread and milk, the latter to be warmed, for the air now began to feel chilly, since the rain had come. “It’s a lucky thing it’s rain and not snow,” said Hugh, “though that would have helped some, I suppose. But after this there’s going to be no more fire fighting for Oakvale Troop, you can understand, this season, anyhow.” “We’ve had our fill of it, all around, I should say,” remarked Ned Twyford. Hugh cornered Arthur Cameron. “How did you come to let Peter get away from you?” he asked the amateur surgeon. At that Arthur chuckled. “I guess he was a little too smart for me that time, Hugh,” he started to explain. “I looked after his burns, and eased them with some of that lotion that is so fine to draw the fire out. Then I happened to turn my back for just three minutes. When I came around again I missed Peter, and one of the boys told me he had seen him slip away.” “Did you guess where he had gone?” asked the scout master. “Well, it didn’t take me long to do that,” came the answer. “I had seen how nervous he was, and heard him saying to himself over and over: ‘I sure hope they find the kids.’ So I could size it up. Peter had disappeared and no one saw him go, but I felt pretty sure he’d come back with you; and I was right. He thinks a heap of the kiddies, Hugh.” “Yes, and they do of Peter,” added Hugh. Whereupon he began to tell Arthur just what he and some of the others had decided they must do to try and make the bound boy’s path in life less thorny. Unnoticed by either of the scouts, someone had drawn closer to them at the time they began chatting. It was the “hired man,” he whose face was so streaked with grime from the smoke and cinders that his best friend might have had more or less difficulty in recognizing him. Evidently he had been drawn there by some subtle attraction. The subject of the boy’s conversation must have deeply interested him, too, for he could be seen to nod his head in the affirmative every time one of them made some remark that did him credit. When finally the two boys moved away the man stood there for some time as though lost in reflection. Then he laughed softly to himself as though he considered that there was a joke on somebody. It was just then that the kitchen door was flung wide open and a dripping figure of a man came staggering into the room. Hugh instantly guessed who it must be even before he heard one of the children cry out: “Daddy!” Immediately the man was passionately kissing the babes of the woods, only refraining from taking them in his arms because of his soaked condition. Hugh saw that Mr. Barger was still a fine-looking man. He also noticed that Mrs. Heffner seemed strangely moved at seeing him, though at the time he did not exactly understand why. Later on Hugh learned the whole story of how years before Mr. Barger had been courting Sally Slavin, but an unfortunate quarrel had separated them. Both had married and lost their partners. Since the death of Mr. Heffner, the widower had tried to renew his attentions. Though Mrs. Heffner cared for him, she had resolutely declined to encourage him as a suitor on account of his bad habits, which he seemed loth to give up. The man was trembling like a leaf. Hugh believed he had had a serious shock, and so he was not surprised to hear him say to Mrs. Heffner: “When I heard about the fire up this way I hurried my team as fast as a whip could make them tear. Leaving the horses on the road I made my way through the fire to where my house had stood. It was a heap of ruins. Money can replace that, but my terrible fear was that my children had perished. Sally, right then and there I got down on my knees and promised Heaven that if only I could find those babes again unharmed, never would a drop of the vile stuff pass my lips again. Sally, I mean to keep that vow as long as I live, you understand?” Hugh wondered why the widow should blush so, and snatching up the smallest of the waifs press the little one to her heart. He knew all about it later on, and could rejoice in that those motherless babes would no longer lack the care they needed. “Things seem to be turning out first-class, eh, Hugh?” remarked Billy, as he and the scout master stood watching all this transpiring. “It’s too bad Mr. Barger lost his house, though. Perhaps Mrs. Heffner will shelter the kids till he can put up another one.” “She’s got plenty of room for them all here in her house,” remarked Hugh, with something so suggestive in his manner that even Billy noticed it and managed to give a guess as to what it meant. “Whew! is that the way the tide sets, do you think?” he muttered. “Well, he’s a pretty fine looking fellow, and she’s as good as gold. Say, that must have been what he meant when he told about giving up his bad habits. Well, it would be a fine thing all around. This farm requires a man’s care; and his babes need a mother to look after them, though Peter tries to do the best he can.” “If it does turn out that way,” remarked Hugh, with a low laugh, “what becomes of all our big plans to better Peter’s condition? He could find his home here and be well looked after, besides staying with the children he loves so much.” “It’s all coming out like one of those old fairy tales we used to read when we were kids,” remarked Billy, as though that time were ages and ages ago in place of a very few years; but then when a boy dons the khaki of a scout he jumps far ahead of his years, and the dim past seems to be spanned by a bridge longer than any ever built with mortal hands. “Peter looks pleased enough, you can see,” said Hugh. Indeed, the bound boy was smiling all over as he stood back and watched. When Mr. Barger hearing what wonderful good care Peter had taken of his babies, came over and squeezed his hand, the boy’s happiness knew no bounds. If his life had not been all that it might in the past, he realized now a new day had dawned on his calendar, and that the future promised much. “I suppose we’ll be getting down home some time to-day,” suggested Billy. “Though if this rain keeps up, we’ll be a pretty well soaked lot of scouts when we strike Oakvale. But who cares for expenses? Haven’t we all got on our oldest duds, and what’s a wetting to a scout, anyway?” “No use bothering about that yet awhile,” Hugh assured him. “The rain may let up, and we’ll get back with dry jackets. Then again I noticed a big wagon with a canvas waterproof top out there in the barn. If it comes to the worst perhaps Mrs. Heffner might have her horses hitched to that, and we could all pile in like sardines.” “Well, there’s another way,” said Billy. “You know some of the people up along the road have got telephone communication with Oakvale. Now a scout could make his way over to the road and call up the livery at Oakvale, so as to have covered rigs come up after us. Mr. Prentice said he’d stand for the expense, if there was any.” “What’s that?” exclaimed Hugh. “Why do you say Mr. Prentice, I’d like to know?” “Well, I declare!” cried Billy, “I clean forgot that you were away when he told us who he was. I never would have known him with all that black on his face, and his clothes burned in ever so many places. Why, the one we took for the hired man is Mr. Prentice, you see! He had come up here to fetch the last note for Mrs. Heffner to pay on her mortgage, when the fire coming closer kept him here. Then he had to help her fight it off, which I reckon he did all right.” “Mr. Prentice!” repeated Hugh. “To think that it should be Addison’s father of all men who happened to be up here when we were showing what scouts were made of!” “Yes, and Hugh,” said one, coming up behind the two boys, “I want to confess right here and now that I never was so glad of anything in my life!” CHAPTER XIII. RIGHT-ABOUT FACE! Hugh caught his breath as he realized what all this meant for Addison Prentice. Here was the one prominent man in all Oakvale who had positively refused to believe there could be any good thing come out of this scout movement that was sweeping like wild fire all over the country. In a wonderful manner he had been placed in a position to witness a practical demonstration of the efficiency of scout tactics and organization. “This certainly is a surprise to me, Mr. Prentice,” Hugh told him. “I never dreamed it was you. Several times I found myself looking your way, and wondering why something about you seemed so familiar; but before I could mention it to any of my chums something would come up to put me off.” “I don’t wonder you didn’t know me,” laughed Mr. Prentice, “and I think my wife would try to chase me out of the house with a broom if she saw me entering. But, Hugh, would you mind shaking hands with me; and you, too, Billy. In fact, I want to humbly apologize to every member of Oakvale Troop for the mean estimation in which I’ve been holding them up to this wonderful day, when I’ve had the scales lifted from my eyes.” It can readily be understood how joyously first Hugh and then Billy each gripped a hand of the quarry owner. Really, for the time being they considered that this amazing change of front in Mr. Prentice even dwarfed all the other surprising events of this record trip. “The seed,” explained the gentleman, “was sown on the occasion of your wonderful presence of mind, Hugh, in throwing that log in front of the runaway stone car, and shunting it off the track. In doing that you possibly saved a number of lives, and me from a feeling of guilt that I never could have survived.” He still held Hugh’s hand while saying this, and gave it a grip that told how deeply his feelings were stirred. “I said to myself, when I could get my wits to working after the feeling of numbness over my narrow escape had passed away, that if being a scout could teach a boy to show such wonderful presence of mind in the face of a sudden peril, there must be something about this movement that I should never condemn without having investigated further. And, Hugh, ever since then I have been making quiet inquiries and getting opinions from some of our leading men without letting them know what my object was.” “That was only what I asked you to do in the first place, sir,” said Hugh. “Yes, I know it was,” the gentleman continued, “but I am an obstinate man, and persisted in shutting my eyes to the facts. But I was rapidly coming to the conclusion that I was making the greatest mistake of my life in going against such a great development of the American boy, when I started up here this morning. Well, what I have seen done and heard spoken of you and your brave boys since coming here has utterly overwhelmed me with confusion and regrets.” “I’m more than glad, sir—for Addison’s sake!” said Hugh, softly and meaningly. “Yes,” the other went on to remark, “there’ll be no difficulty about his getting permission to join your troop after this. Why, if he showed any hesitation I’d be three times more bent on making him don the khaki than I was before in refusing to grant that favor. I can plainly see what a great list of possibilities opens up before a scout. If Addison can, in time, become as sensible a boy as most of your companions—I might easily say all of them—are, I will be grateful every day of my life that Fortune took me up here to see Mrs. Heffner at just the time the forest was burning, and your troop came up to render first aid to the afflicted.” Really, there did not appear to be anything lacking, for it all seemed to have come out just right. If Hugh himself could have had the planning, he doubted whether he could have improved on what had happened. “Then you give me permission to tell Addison that he can put in his application to join the scouts, do you, Mr. Prentice?” Hugh asked. “You’ll hardly have the opportunity, Hugh,” he was told, “because as soon as I get home I will issue orders that he must join at the very first meeting!” “It will make him pretty happy, I think, sir, for he has set his heart on being one of us.” “And let me tell you it will make his father doubly happy when that time comes, for I have seen and heard things I never would have believed possible a week ago. It just goes to show how foolish men can be to judge without knowing what they are talking about. But, Hugh, I shall try and make amends for what injury I have unwittingly done the cause in the past by booming it in the future. You see, it’s a case of right-about face with me. They do say that I’m pretty sure to go to extremes when my mind is made up.” “The boys will all be glad to know that you’ve reformed, sir,” said Billy, boldly, but Mr. Prentice only chuckled. “Yes, you hit the nail squarely on the head when you call it that, Billy,” he frankly declared. “In a case like mine nothing short of a reformation would fill the bill. You’ll never understand how much I’ve enjoyed being here and watching the way you boys went about saving the farm buildings. It seemed as if you knew just what to do and how to work it. I had a lesson I’ll never forget. The boys of to-day are in a class by themselves when compared with my time. I can see now how they owe most of it to the teachings of the scout organization.” As it was getting on toward noon, and boys are known to have ferocious appetites, especially when they have been working very hard, Mrs. Heffner busied herself in getting a luncheon. Like most of her class she always had a great abundance of good food in the house, which was a fortunate thing for that army of voracious lads. Such a jolly time they had of it, everybody trying to lend a helping hand until in the end Mrs. Heffner had to chase the lot out of the kitchen while she completed her arrangements. But she was looking very happy, Hugh thought; perhaps it was because a good fortune had spared her possessions; or again there may have been still another reason which she did not choose to share with any one. And that was a meal not soon to be forgotten. All sorts of good things were forthcoming, so that no scout could rise from the table and claim that his appetite still clamored for more. Cake, pies, jams and jellies, sandwiches, milk, coffee with rich cream, hard-boiled eggs by the score, even several cold chickens which she had been intending to take to town for the Woman’s Exchange table—all these and much more were placed before the boys, until even Billy sighed and humbly confessed that he had undone the last button of his vest, and could not eat another bite. About two in the afternoon it was discovered that the rain had ceased. No one regretted this fact, for it had come down so heavily that every fire must have been long since extinguished. “Now’s our chance to go home, boys,” announced Hugh, at which there was a decided scurrying around, as hats were looked up, and good-byes said. “I’m going to town with the horse and wagon Mrs. Heffner has loaned me,” said Mr. Prentice, “and if any of you scouts want to ride, say the word.” There was not a single answer; apparently the boys looked forward to such a fine time hiking it for home that they did not care to be separated. Hugh considered this a compliment to the leaders of the troop, for it might be thought that a few out of the dozen and more would prefer to ride home. “I’ve an idea we may find the other half of the troop waiting for us on the road,” he mentioned, “and if so we’ll all go back together.” Everybody was sorry to see them depart, even the three little Barger youngsters who had become quite friendly with the scouts during the short time they had known them. Jack, Don and Bud would always look back to their association with the “babes of the woods” with a feeling of keen pleasure. Sure enough, there was Alec and his detachment waiting for them at the pre-arranged rendezvous. When the two sections sighted one another there was more or less calling back and forth, and cheering. Apparently Alec’s crowd could not have had anything like the serious time that came the way of Hugh and his chums. This was to be seen in the fact that their uniforms, unlike the others, did not bear signs of hard usage, with holes burned here and there, besides being pretty well water soaked. Of course both sides were wild to hear what had been accomplished by the other detachment. “Who’s going to take the floor first and spin the yarn?” demanded Billy Worth, who was really anxious to know just how far Alec’s supporters had gone in the way of fire-fighting. Alec and Hugh exchanged looks, and smiled. “I reckon we’ll have to toss up for it, then, seeing that each wants to be last,” remarked the Sands boy, taking out a coin. “That suits us,” said Billy; “and Hugh can say whether it’s heads or tails.” “Whichever falls upward means the last to tell the story, doesn’t it?” asked Hugh. “Yes, and you call out while the quarter is in the air,” Alec told him. So he sent it whirling upward, and about the time it reached its highest point Hugh sang out: “Tails for me!” The coin fell to the ground, and numerous heads were craned in the effort to see what the result would turn out to be. “You win, Hugh,” remarked Alec, laughingly. “Tails it is, face up. I’m only sorry I’ve got so little to tell, because our work wasn’t so fast and furious as you had come your way, if signs count for anything,” and as he said this Alec pointed to numerous small holes burned in the clothes of Hugh and some of those who had fought the flames with him. “All the same,” Hugh told him directly, “we know mighty well it was only the want of a chance that kept you from showing your mettle. We happened to be lucky that way. So long as you did your part the best you knew how, what odds does it make how much of a result followed?” That was characteristic of Hugh. He tried to minimize his own acts, while at the same time eager to enlarge upon anything a fellow scout had been able to accomplish. It was this brotherly trait that had made him the best-liked fellow in or around Oakvale. Selfishness and Hugh Hardin had little in common, as every boy understood who knew the young scout master. “Well,” began Alec, “it isn’t going to take me long to cover the ground of our activities. We got to the squab and chicken farm, and found Old Zeke pretty nearly out of his seven senses, because he expected he was going to be caught by the fire, and lose his whole plant, which you know would about kill the poor chap, for he’s got every cent he owns in the wide world invested there.” “And I’ve heard,” interrupted Billy Worth, “that it’s the apple of Zeke Ballinger’s eye, that squab plant. He ships a box of plucked baby blue-rock pigeons to a big hotel in the city every week, and gets cracking good prices for them.” “Yes,” added Ralph Kenyon; “I’ve been up at his place, and he nearly gave me the squab fever, too. I could see good money in the game; but it takes a lot of time to look after things; and what with school duties, as well as scout matters, I couldn’t see my way clear to make the start. But go on, Alec, please.” “You can be sure,” continued the narrator of the story, “he was pleased when we broke in on him. I never saw a man so happy. I guess Old Zeke has heard a heap about what the scouts of Oakvale have done in times gone by, for he just up and said he knew now his place wasn’t going to be burned to flinders.” Somehow every fellow looked proud when Alec said that. It seemed to them worth while to have worked so hard in the past, if by so doing a reputation for accomplishing things had been earned among the people of their native town and the surrounding country. “We started in to get ready for business,” continued Alec; “such as locating the water supply, gathering all sorts of buckets, pans, and anything that could be used for carrying the stuff when the sparks came sailing over, and threatening to set fire to the roofs of the chicken and pigeon houses. “First we began to soak the roofs as well as we could, and all the while the fire was getting nearer. As luck would have it, there was an open space between the woods and the buildings. Old Zeke didn’t have any straw stack, or hay worth mentioning, to start going, which I counted in our favor. “Then finally we saw the flames begin to pick up over to windward. The fire had been carried through the thick woods. It was eating up all the dry stuff on the ground, and some dead trees were beginning to look like great big burning torches or candles. “So we worked harder than ever, with Zeke keeping on our trail, doing great stunts carrying water and helping out. Every bucket thrown gave us more hope that we’d be able to keep things safe and sound; but pretty soon we saw that here and there the roofs were beginning to smoke. “We’d made sure to have what ladders there were about the place handy. So keeping a bright lookout, whenever a little flame was discovered on the roof of a building some of the boys hustled there with a ladder, and one went up to throw a bucket of water over it. “That was about what our work amounted to, all the way through. None of the buildings were burned down, though we did have a few scares, and several times it took the liveliest jumping anybody ever saw to manage all the little fires that sprang up. “And in the end the fire had swept past, the heat gradually grew less and less, so that we knew we had saved the place for the old squab raiser and chicken farmer.” “Is that all, Alec?” asked Hugh. “Not quite,” replied Alec, with a bright smile, as he glanced toward Dale, “we did have just one little adventure worth mentioning.” “Stow that, can’t you, Alec?” hastily remarked Dale, who seemed to suddenly flush up, as though more or less confused; for he was known to be an exceptionally modest fellow, who neither went about “blowing his own horn,” nor liked to have any of his chums do the same for him; “it wasn’t worth mentioning in the same breath with the splendid things I’m sure Hugh and the rest have been doing.” “We’re the ones to judge of that, old fellow,” said Don; “so please let’s hear what it was, Alec, will you?” Dale immediately fell back, for they were at the time walking along the road in the direction of distant Oakvale, forming quite a lively bunch as they clustered around Hugh and the leader of the Otter Patrol. “Why, it was like this,” the latter proceeded to explain; “there was one tall building with a steep roof that had a pitch of fully forty-five degrees. I think it was the main pigeon plant; but then that doesn’t matter. “Right in the midst of the fiercest of the fight to save the frame buildings, when the red sparks were falling thick and furious, one of the boys shouted out that the roof of that particular building was afire. “Now, I had been afraid of that right along, you see. It was so much higher than any of the others, and that sloping roof made it doubly hard to get around. As soon as I hurried to the spot I saw that the chances were we’d have a tough job getting that little blaze under control, and it even looked as if the crisis of the whole business had come around. “A big spark had dropped in just the worst place it could go, and there must have been some dry leaves and trash in that cavity, for a blaze sprang up right away. It was going right merrily when I got there. “As soon as the ladder was slapped against the side of the tall building Dale went up it like a monkey. The boys pushed another ladder up so that he could lay it on the roof. Then they handed him a bucket of water. “I wish you could have seen him hunch along that ridge of the roof, Hugh. It was as fine a thing as any city fireman ever did, I’m dead sure. And all the while Dale had to carry that heavy pail of water along, trying not to spill a drop if he could help it. “Well, we held our breath while we watched him, and not a fellow called out any instructions, for we believed that Dale knew best what he was up against. “By that time the fire was springing up as if it surely meant to cop everything in sight. But Dale he just kept hunching along, and hunching along till he had come to where he thought he could get the bulge on the busy flames. Then we saw him hold his bucket up as if aiming, and after that it was good-night to Mr. Fire. “And that was as near an adventure as anything we ran across, Hugh,” concluded Alec; “so please start in to tell us what came your way over to the Heffner farm.” Knowing how eager the others were to hear, Hugh wasted no time in beating around the bush. He proceeded to tell what a stiff fight he and his backers had put up in the endeavor to save the property of the widow, and what splendid success their efforts met with. In vivid language he described how the hungry flames had tried to devour the stacks and outbuildings of the woman farmer, and the sturdy efforts put forth to baffle their intentions. It could be noticed that through the whole story Hugh seldom referred to himself; if he chanced to have had a part in the happening he invariably spoke of it as “we did this.” Then in the midst of his story came the appearance of Peter, the bound boy, with his thrilling tale concerning the little charges whom he had had to temporarily abandon while he went in search of assistance. After that there followed the finding of the youngsters, the triumphant return to the farm-house, the coming of Mr. Barger, and finally, most astonishing of all, the discovery that the black-faced man they had supposed was the hired help should prove to be Addison Prentice’s father. As all the scouts knew about the decided opposition shown by the quarry-owner toward their organization, when they learned of his wonderful conversion a series of hearty cheers made the slumbering echoes in the woods awaken. “That ought to make it unanimous for the scouts in and around Oakvale,” asserted Alec, boisterously. “I can’t seem to remember another person of consequence willing to say a single word against the troop. We’ll have every patrol filled to the limit before a month rolls by. Things are flourishing like a green bay tree for the scouts. I certainly envy the great time you fellows have had; but we did our duty just the same, and if the fire had come closer we’d have fought just as hard as you did, to save the squab farm.” “Nobody doubts it for a single minute, Alec!” declared Hugh. “The old man was grateful to us, too,” added Buck Winter, “for he hauled out every bit of grub he had around the house, and even offered to dress some chickens for us, but we wouldn’t hear of it.” “I guess we about cleaned him out of eatables that time,” chuckled Dale Evans. “And maybe we weren’t glad a certain fellow we know was with the other crowd,” remarked Dick Bellamy, with a meaning look toward Billy, who only grinned. They managed to reach home before dark, and such a disreputable lot of scouts had never before entered the corporate limits of Oakvale. But when the good people learned of what great help they had been to Mrs. Heffner and others up in the stricken country, they felt that they could readily forgive their dilapidated appearance. It afterward turned out that Mr. Barger and the widow married, and the three little babes in the woods seem to be just as fond of their new mother as anyone would wish to see. Peter, of course, now has his home with them, and the last time Hugh met the boy he hardly knew him, there was such a great change in his looks, for he had grown much more manly. In good time he will undoubtedly become a scout, as nearly all sensible lads do; and those who understood how faithful Peter could be to a trust, feel certain he will always be a credit to the organization. Other adventures are bound to happen in the history of Oakvale Troop worthy of being written up, and at some future time it may be our pleasing duty to once more follow the fortunes of Hugh Hardin and his chums in new fields of scout activities. Until such time we will say good-by to the reader. THE END. 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 AS FOREST FIRE FIGHTERS *** Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed. 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