CHAPTER XXIV
RETURNING GOOD FOR EVIL
When that wailing cry reached their ears it thrilled the scouts throughand through, for now they knew that the worst must have happened to thewretched Tony Pollock and his three cronies, adrift in the treacherousmuck bog.
"Forward, but be very careful to keep in my tracks all the time!"called out the naturalist as he started off.
They wound around this way and that. There were times when Rob, whocame directly on the heels of the pilot, could not see the slightesttrace of a trail; but he realized that from long association andinvestigation Mr. Henderson knew exactly where to set his feet, andthus avoid unpleasant consequences.
They now and then sent out reassuring calls, for those unseen partiesahead continued to make fervent appeals, as though a terrible fearassailed them that the rescuers might go astray and miss them.
By degrees the shouts sounded closer, though becoming exceedinglyhoarse. Presently Felix called out that he believed he had glimpsed theunfortunate boys.
"Oh! they're all in the mud, and up to their waists at that!" he cried.
"No, you're wrong there, Felix," said Josh. "Three of them seem to bestuck fast, but there's one up in that tree nearly over them. He musthave managed to pull himself up there, somehow or other."
"He's got a branch, and is trying to help one of his mates," assertedRob. "But he doesn't seem to be making much headway."
"They're in a peck of trouble, believe me!" admitted George, for onceneglecting to sneer at the prospect of a fatality.
Carl was trying to make out who the three in the bog were.
"Can you see if _he's_ in there, Tom?" he asked, eagerly.
"Yes, it's Wedge McGuffey up in the tree, and the others must be Tony,Asa and Dock," the patrol leader assured him; nor did he blame poorCarl for sighing as though in relief, for he could easily guess what itmeant to him, this golden opportunity to be of help to the stubborn boywho could lift the load from his heart, if only he chose.
When they came closer to the struggling captives in the lake of mudthey heard them actually sobbing for joy. Hope must have been almostgone when first they heard that chorus of cheering shouts. And when thescouts saw what a desperate condition the three prisoners were in theycould not blame them for showing such emotion in the excess of theirjoy.
Soon the newcomers were as close as they could come to the three whowere stuck there in the mire. Never would they forget their deplorableappearance. They had evidently floundered about until they were fairlyplastered over with the mud, and looked like imps.
"Can't you get us out of here, fellers?" called Tony Pollock, in avoice that seemed almost cracked, such was his excitement, and hisfears that these scouts, whom he had done his best to injure, mightthink to pay him back in his own coin and abandon him to his fate.
"Yes, we'll manage it some way or other," said the hermit-naturalist."Keep as still as you can, because every movement only sends you downdeeper."
Then he turned to Tom, for he knew the patrol leader was the one totake charge of the rescue party.
"Here's the rope, Tom," he told him. "Pick out several of the stoutestof your comrades, and make use of the tree as a lever. It's all verysimple, you can see, thought it may hurt them more or less when youpull."
Tom understood what was expected of him.
"Come along with me, Carl, Rob and Josh," he said. "The rest of youstand by and be ready to pull if we need any more help. We'll pass theend of the rope back to you."
"But how are we going to climb up in the tree?" asked Rob; "withoutgetting stuck in the mud ourselves?"
"There's only one way," replied Tom, as he seized hold of a branch thathappened to be within reach, and commenced to climb it as though hewere a sailor swarming up a rope.
When he had effected a lodgment above they threw the rope to him, andafter Tom had made one end fast to the thick limb the other three hadlittle difficulty in following him.
Then they clambered out to where Wedge McGuffey was perched. Hiscondition betrayed the fact that he too had been caught in the muck;but being closer to a friendly branch he must have made a tremendouseffort and climbed into the tree.
First of all Tom made a running noose in the end of the rope. Then helowered this to Tony who was almost below the limb of which they wereastride.
"Listen, Tony," said Tom, clearly, "put the loop under your arms, withthe knot at your chest. Then grin and bear it, because we've got todrag hard to get you free from all that stuff you're in."
"Oh! never mind about me, Tom; I'd stand anything if only I could getout of this terrible place. Pull me in half if you have to; I'm game!"said the boy below.
They found that it was really a little harder than they had bargainedfor, because of their insecure footing. Accordingly, after severalattempts that did not meet with much success, Tom had the other end ofthe rope carried to the scouts who were on the ground.
After that Tony just had to come. He evidently suffered pain, but, ashe had said, he was game, and in the end they hoisted him to the limb,where he clung watching the next rescue.
It happened that Asa was the second to be pulled out. Meanwhile Dockwas in great distress of mind. All his nerve seemed to have gone, forhe kept pleading with Carl not to think of having revenge because ofthe way he had harmed him.
"Only get me out of this, Carl," he kept saying, "and I've gotsomething right here in my pocket I'm meaning to give back to you. Iwas getting shaky about it anyhow; but if you help me now you'rea-goin' to have it, sure you are, Carl!"
It can easily be imagined that Carl worked feverishly when it cametime to get Dock Phillips out. He was deeper than either of the othershad been, and it required some very rough usage before finally theyloosened him from his miry bed.
Dock groaned terribly while the work was being carried on, but they didnot stop for that, knowing it had to be. In the end he, too, was drawnup to the limb, a most sorry looking spectacle indeed, but his groanshad now changed into exclamations of gratitude.
It required much labor to get the four mud-daubed figures down to wherethe others were awaiting them. Even Tom and his helpers were prettywell plastered by that time, and their new uniforms looked anything butfine. Josh grumbled a little, but as for Tom and Carl they felt that itwas worth all it cost and a great deal more.
Carl would not wait any longer than he could help. Perhaps he believedin "striking while the iron was hot." Tom too was egging him on, for hefelt that the sooner that precious paper was in the possession of hischum the better.
"Dock, I hope you mean to keep your word to me," Carl said, as theytook up the line of march over the ground that had been so latelycovered.
Dock was seen to be fumbling as though reaching into an inner pocket;and while the suspense lasted of course Carl held his very breath.Then a hand reached back, and something in it was eagerly seized bythe widow's son. One look told him that it was the paper his motherneeded so much in order to balk the greedy designs of Amasa Culpepper.
"How is everything now, Carl?" asked a voice in his ear, and turning hefound Tom's smiling face close to his own.
"Oh! that terrible load seems to have fallen from my shoulders just aswater does from the back of a duck!" Carl exclaimed, joyously, and thepatrol leader saw that he was very happy.
"I'm so glad!" was all Tom said, but the way he grasped his chum's handcounted for much more than mere words.
When they finally reached the end of the treacherous Great Bog therewas a halt called by the naturalist.
"We must stop here and try to clean these boys off as best we can," heannounced.
This was no easy task, but by making use of slivers of wood from afallen tree they finally managed to relieve Tony and his crowd of mostof the black mud, although they would be apt to carry patches of it ontheir garments for some time after it dried.
"Now," said the kindly old hermit-naturalist, "I'm going to invite allof you up to my cabin, and we'll have a feast to-night in celebra
tionof this rescue from the Great Bog. You four lads have had a narrowescape, and I only hope you'll never forget what the scouts have donefor you."
Even Tony seemed affected, and certainly no one had ever before knownhim to show the first sign of contrition. He went straight up to Tomand looked him in the eye.
"We played your crowd a mighty low trick I want to say, Tom Chesney;and while we've et up most of the grub we took, here's something youmight be glad to get back again," and with that he thrust into the handof the patrol leader the little note-book which Tom had mourned as lostto him forever.
"I'm glad to have that again, Tony," the other said, offering his handto the contrite one; "because I mean to use my account of this hikelater on in trying for a prize. It's lucky you didn't throw it away asyou did the frying-pan and coffee-pot, which I see you failed to carryalong with you."
"We know where they're hid in the brush," Tony hastened to declare;"and I c'n get 'em again inside of an hour. I'm a-goin' to do it too,'cause I feel mean about that thing. I'm done with callin' the scoutsnames. Fellers that'd reach out a helpin' hand to them that didn'tdeserve it must be the right sort. And laugh if you want to, TomChesney, but when we get back home I want ye to lend me a book thattells all a feller has to do when he thinks of gettin' up a scouttroop!"
Tony was as good as his word. When he said a thing he stuck to it,which was his best quality. He tramped a long way back along the trail,and reappeared after sunset bearing the missing cooking utensils.
"We're going to pay for the eatables we took later on, I promise ye,Tom," he declared.
They spent a great night and those four boys who had hated the scoutsso long learned many wonderful things connected with the great movementas they sat by the fire, and listened to all that was said.
In the morning they went their way, and appeared to be different youthsfrom what they had been in the past.
Mr. Witherspoon and the scouts spent another day and night with thehermit-naturalist. Then on the next morning they started forth tocomplete their hike over Big Bear Mountain.
It chanced that no further adventures came their way, and one afternoonweary but well satisfied with the success of their trip, the troopre-entered Lenox, with Felix sounding his fish horn just as valiantlyas though it were the most beautiful silver-plated bugle that moneycould buy.
CHAPTER XXV
WHEN CARL CAME HOME--CONCLUSION
Amasa Culpepper had taken advantage of the absence of Carl to droparound that afternoon to see the widow. He fully believed that by thistime Dock Phillips had either destroyed or lost the paper he claimed tohave found; or else Amasa felt that he could secure possession of it atany time by paying the sum the boy demanded.
When Carl drew near his home he saw the well-known rig of the oldlawyer and grocer at the gate. Somehow, the sight gave Carl anunpleasant feeling. Then, as his hand unconsciously went up to thepocket where he had that precious paper, he felt a sensation of savagejoy.
They would get rid of this nuisance at last. Mr. Culpepper would haveto produce the certificate for the oil shares that had become sovaluable, now that the receipt he had given for it could be produced,and after that an era of prosperity would come to the Oskamp's, withgrim poverty banished forever.
Carl entered by the gate, and passed around the side of the houseinstead of using the front door as usual.
The boy knew that the windows of the little sitting room must be open,and of course the afternoon caller would be in there. Carl was anxiousto hear what had caused the rich old man to don his best clothes anddrop in to see his mother of an afternoon, though he strongly suspectedthe reason back of it.
It did not strike the boy that he was playing the part of aneavesdropper, for in his mind just then the end justified the means.And he knew that Amasa Culpepper had to be fought with his own weapons.
Evidently he must have again asked Mrs. Oskamp to marry him, and asbefore met with a laughing refusal, for Carl could hear him walkingnervously up and down in the little sitting room.
Having exhausted his stock of arguments as to why she should thinkseriously of his proposal, Mr. Culpepper seemed to be getting angry. Hehad been courting the widow for a long time without making anyimpression on her heart. It was time to change his tactics. Perhapssince entreaties had failed something in the way of half-veiled threatswould become more successful.
"You tell me that with the burning of the tenement building more thanhalf of your little property has been lost," Carl heard him saying ashe crouched there under the open window.
"Yes, that is the sad truth, Mr. Culpepper," the widow admitted.
"But with a family of children to bring up how are you going to livefrom now on, when before this happened you had barely enough? If youwould seriously consider the proposition I make you, and become Mrs.Culpepper, your children would have a good home."
"That is very generous of you, Mr. Culpepper," Carl heard his mothersay, while he fairly held his breath in suspense for fear she mightagree to what the other asked; "but I cannot change my mind. I neverexpect to marry again."
"But how can you get along, I want to know?" he demanded, angrily. "Ittakes money to live, and you will see the children you love suffer."
"There is one resource still left," she told him, as though urged toput him to the test. "It lies in those shares of oil stock which youare holding for me. They have become very valuable, and when I disposeof them I hope to have enough and to spare for all future needs."
There was a brief and awkward silence.
"But what evidence is there," he finally asked icily, "that you everplaced any shares of stock in my hand, or even so, that they were notdelivered to you again? Of course you can show my name at the bottomof a receipt if that is the fact?"
"Is that absolutely necessary, Mr. Culpepper?" she asked, helplessly.
"It is strictly business, madam," the visitor went on, in his cold,cutting tones that were like the rasping of a file. "I could not thinkof handing over anything of value that was in my possession withoutreceiving in return a receipt."
"But you would not be so cruel as to deprive my children of their breadsimply because of a little technicality, sir? I will do anything thelaw demands to insure that you are not held liable whether the lostreceipt is ever found again or not."
"There is only one thing you can do," continued Mr. Culpepper, eagerly,"that will cause me to waive my rights, and you know what that is.Those are my only terms of surrender."
"That's just where you're a whole lot mistaken Mr. Culpepper!" criedCarl, unable to hold in any longer, and thrusting his head andshoulders through the open window as he spoke.
The widow gave a slight shriek, while Mr. Culpepper said something halfunder his breath that no doubt expressed his feelings.
"What do you mean by saying that?" he asked, in a voice that wasunsteady.
"You made a statement that you'll have to take water on," Carl told himwith a broad smile on his face. "Listen! My mother will be down atyour office to-morrow morning with Judge Beatty and myself, and she'lldemand that you deliver the paper that this receipt calls for!"
With that he held up the precious little paper so that those in thesitting room could see it. Mrs. Oskamp gave a bubbling cry of joy,while Amasa Culpepper, seizing his hat and stick, hurried out of thedoor, entered his buggy and whipped his horse savagely, as though gladto vent his ill humor on some animate object.
Carl was not another moment in climbing through the open window andgathering his mother in his strong arms. The whole story was told thatevening with the younger children gathered around. Mrs. Oskamp satthere and felt her mother heart glow with pride as she heard how Carlhad played his part in the exciting drama connected with the hike ofthe Boy Scouts.
"It seems as though some power over which you had no control must haveled you on to the glorious success that came in the end," she told thehappy Carl, after everything had been narrated. "With that paper in ourhands we can have no further trouble in securing our prop
erty. But Ishall feel that we owe something to Dock Phillips, and that it can onlybe repaid through kindness to his mother."
On the following day they took Judge Beatty, who was an old friend ofCarl's father, into their confidence, and the certificate of stock waspromptly though grudgingly delivered to them on demand.
Amasa Culpepper knew that he had been fairly beaten in the game, and heannoyed Mrs. Oskamp no longer.
The oil shares turned out to be worth a large sum of money, and itplaced the Oskamps beyond the reach of want.
Tom Chesney wrote his account of their great trip over big BearMountain, and, sure enough it did take the prize when submitted incompetition with numerous others to the magazine that had made theoffer. Tom remembered his promise and sent copies of the story to Mr.Clark, as well as to Mr. Henderson.
The last heard from Lenox the Boy Scouts were thriving famously. Theyexpected to enjoy many an outing under the charge of the good-heartedscout master, Mr. Witherspoon, but some of the boys were of the opinionthat there never could be just such a wonderful series of excitingadventures befall them as had accompanied the hike over Big BearMountain.
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