CHAPTER XXXI
A SCOUT'S DUTY
"Seems like a dream; don't it, Paul?"
Jack dropped down beside the acting scout master as he made this remark. He had just stepped out from the new camp on the mainland, and found Paul sitting upon a log, looking across the water in the direction they had come.
The sun was just setting, and a rosy flush filled the western heavens. It seemed to fall softly upon mysterious Cedar Island, nestling there in the midst of the now tranquil waters.
Paul looked up with a smile, as he made room on the log for his chum, who had always been so willing to stand by him through thick and thin.
"Well, do you know, Jack," he spoke, "that was just exactly what seemed to strike me. I was staring hard at the island, and wondering if I had been asleep and dreamed all those queer happenings. Fact is, just before you spoke I even pinched my leg to see if I was really wide awake."
The other laughed at this.
"Oh! you're awake, all right, Paul," he remarked. "You seemed to get off without any show of damage to your good-looking face. As for the rest of us, if ever we begin to think we've been and dreamed it, we've got a remedy better than pinching. All we have to do is to bend down over a still pool of water and take a look at our faces. That'll convince us in a hurry we did have a lively time of it."
Paul pointed across the lake to where the island lay bathed in that wonderful afterglow that shone from the painted heavens.
"Did you ever see a prettier sight?" he asked. "It looks as peaceful as any picture could be. You wouldn't think a bunch of fellows could run up against such a lot of trouble over on such a fine little place as Cedar Island; would you, now?"
"I feel the same way you do, Paul; and I'd say we never ought to have left it, only after the flood it'd be a muddy place, and we wouldn't take any pleasure getting around."
"Oh! well," Paul rejoined cheerfully, "after all, perhaps it isn't our last visit up this way. Who knows but what we may have another chance to come over here and look around. It was a good scheme, I'm thinking, Jack, and we'll never be sorry we came."
"I should say not," remarked the other, quickly; "just turn around and take a look back into our camp. See where Professor Hackett is lying propped up with pillows from the boats. Well, suppose we'd never come over this way, what d'ye think would have happened to him? He says he owes his life to your skill, Paul, and that, try as they would, Mr. Jameson and the other assistants couldn't seem to stop the bleeding. That alone pays us for all we've gone through, Paul."
"I guess it does," Paul admitted, readily, "because he's a smart man, and has done a lot to entertain the crowds that go to the seashore to rest and forget their troubles. But I'm glad none of the boys seem to have suffered any serious damage from the effect of the explosion or that mad chase afterwards."
"Yes, we ought to call ourselves lucky, and let it go at that,"
Jack remarked.
"When you think about all that might have happened, I tell you we've got lots of reason to be thankful," Paul went on, with considerable feeling.
"Sure we have," added Jack. "Instead of that stick taking me in the cheek, it might have struck my eye and injured my sight for life."
"And where I got only a wrench that may make me limp a little for a few days, I could have broken a leg," said Paul.
"That's one of the rules scouts have to keep in mind, you know," Jack continued; "always be cheerful and look on the bright side of things. I reckon there never comes a time when you can't find a rainbow of promise if you look far enough. Things are never as bad as they might be."
"The boys seem to have settled down here just as if they meant to enjoy the rest of the stay," Paul observed, as he turned his head again, so as to look at the bustling camp close by.
"Yes, and even the very air seems to tell of peace and plenty," said Jack, with a little laugh, as he sniffed the appetizing odors that were beginning to announce that preparations for the evening meal had started.
"You're right," agreed Paul, "I guess there's nothing more 'homey' than the smell of onions frying. I never get a whiff of it on the street of a winter evening but what I seem to see some of the camps I've been in. And then, just think how it gets your appetite on edge, till you can hardly wait for the cook to call out that supper's ready. But I was thinking of some other things when you came up."
"I reckon I could mention one of them," said Jack.
"Let's hear, then," the other demanded.
Jack swept his hand down the lake in the direction of the outlet.
"You're worrying about that," he said.
"Well, that's just about the size of it, Jack. We know the lake's gone down to about what it was before the storm hit us; but what if a great big rock blocks the passage?"
"You know what Mr. Jameson said you could do?" Jack remarked.
"About the dynamite, to blast an opening big enough for our boats to get through? Yes, Jack, I suppose that could be done."
"And he says he'll stand by to see that it is done," the other continued. "As Mr. Jameson is an expert at all sorts of explosives, you can just make up your mind we'll have no trouble getting away. Besides, Paul, I've got a feeling that when we go down in the morning to take a survey, we'll be more than pleased with the way things look."
"Which all sounds good to me," Paul hastened to declare. "Anyhow, I'm going to believe it's bound to turn out as you say. In spite of our troubles we've been a pretty lucky lot."
"But you talked as though the getting away part of the business was only a part of what you had on your mind," Jack went on.
"There was something else," the other scout admitted.
"Suppose you open up and tell me, Paul; because somehow I don't seem to be able to get what you mean."
"It seems to me," the patrol leader remarked, seriously, "that while all of us scouts, and the professor's party in the bargain, have been shaking hands with each other over the lucky escape we had, we've pretty near forgotten one poor chap."
Jack gave a start, and then whistled softly.
"That's right, Paul," he said, "for I take it you mean the crazy islander."
"How do we know what happened to him?" Paul continued.
"But Mr. Jameson seemed to feel sure he would take to the hill when the flood came," Jack replied. "And he also told us, you remember, that some of their food was at a higher point than the water could have reached. So, if the crazy man wanders about that camp, there's no need of his going hungry long."
"I guess that's about so," Paul agreed, as though these words from his chum took away some of his anxiety. "From what they say, it seems as if he has come to look on them as friends. So, chances are ten to one he'd go to their different camps after the flood went down."
"Queer how he came to be here," Jack remarked.
"Oh, I don't know," the other observed; "there's no telling what a crazy person will do. His coming to this island must have been with the hazy notion that any one searching for him couldn't find him here."
"Searching for him, Paul?"
"Well, you remember Mr. Jameson said he had an idea the poor fellow must have escaped from some institution," Jack continued.
"Yes, he did say that; and for all he looks so big and fierce, with his long hair and beard, he's harmless. But, Jack, between us now, do you think we could go back home when our little vacation trip is over and feel that we'd done all our duty as true scouts, when that poor chap had been left up here—perhaps to starve on Cedar Island?"
"Whew! You're the greatest boy I ever saw, Paul, to get a grip on a situation and remember things."
"But—answer my question," persisted the other.
"Well, what you said must be so," Jack acknowledged; "and it makes me feel pretty small to remember that, while we've all been feeling so merry over our wonderful escape, I'd forgotten all about him."
"Jack, it's too late to do anything tonight, you know."
"I reckon it is, Paul," replied the other, looking a bit anxiously across the water to where the glow was commencing to give way to shadows along the wooded shore of Cedar Island; "but if you thought best, I'd be willing to take the lantern and cross over with you."
Paul thrust out his hand impulsively.
"Shake on that, old chum," he exclaimed. "Your heart's as big as a bushel basket, and in the right place every time. But on the whole, Jack, I don't believe it would be the wise thing for us to do."
"Just as you say, Paul; only I wanted you to know I was ready to back you up in anything."
"We're both tired, and sore in the bargain," continued the scout master, steadily.
"Yes," Jack admitted, unconsciously caressing his painful bruises.
"The island is in a bad state just now, after being flooded," Paul continued.
"That's right, I can jolly well believe it," his chum agreed.
"And if the wild man hasn't been drowned, he'll surely be able to look out for himself a while longer. Mr. Jameson felt sure he wouldn't starve, with all the food they left behind."
"Then it won't hurt to let it go till tomorrow, eh, Paul?"
"I had made up my mind that we'd organize another party, this time taking some of the fellows who have been kept in camp, and comb Cedar Island from end to end to find that man."
"A good plan, Paul," said the other scout; "but do you think he'll make friends with us, even when we find him?"
"Mr. Jameson says he understands the peace sign," the scout master continued, "and must really have had a bright mind at some time. He told me he had an idea the man may have met with some injury that had unsettled his reason. He seemed to be greatly interested in all they were doing, and several times even made suggestions that startled the professor."
"I remember that much, too," said Jack, "and Mr. Jameson also said he meant to try and learn if anybody knew about a John Pennington. That was the name the man spoke once in his rambling talk."
"Well, perhaps we may be able in some way to do the poor fellow a good turn, Jack. I hope so, anyhow. My! how those boys are trying to beat the record at getting up a grand supper. Seems to me my appetite is growing at the rate of a mile a minute."
"If it keeps on that way, good-bye to our stock of provisions," laughed Jack; "but, to tell the truth, I feel pretty much the same. The most welcome sound I could hear right now would be Bluff calling everybody to get a share of that fine mess."
"Then you won't have to wait long, I guess," his chum declared, "because from all the signs of dishing out I imagine they're about ready right now."
Paul proved a true prophet, for immediately Bluff began to ding-dong upon a sheet iron frying pan, using a big spoon to produce a discord that, in the ears of the hungry boys, was the sweetest music in the world.
Gathering around, the scouts made a merry group as they proceeded to demolish the stacks of savory food that had been heaped upon their tin plates; and drink to each other's health in the fragrant coffee that steamed in the generous cups, also of tin, belonging to their mess chest.
After supper the scouts sat around, and while some of them worked at various things in which they were particularly interested, such as developing the films that would give a dozen views of the great flood, others sang songs or listened to Mr. Jameson tell strange stories.
The man had been to the corners of the world during a busy lifetime, often with scientific parties sent out by societies interested in geography, natural history or astronomy. And hence it had fallen to the lot of Mr. Jameson to experience some remarkable adventures. The boys felt that he was the most interesting talker they had ever met.
After several hours had slipped by, some of the scouts, notably those who had been among the bold explorers band, were discovered to be nodding drowsily. Indeed, Andy and Tom Betts had gone sound asleep, just as they lay curled up before the fire. The warmth of the blaze, together with the unusual exertions of the day, had been too much for the boys.
And so the bugler was told to sound "taps" to signify that it was time they crawled under their blankets.
A few chose to sleep aboard the motor boats, which, of course, relieved the tents from overcrowding. Professor Hackett and his assistants had been lodged in one of the tents, which fact had something to do with the lack of room.
But presently all these things had been arranged. Paul himself intended to pass the night in the open. He declared he would really enjoy the experience; and two others insisted on keeping him company—little Nuthin and Bobolink.
So Paul, who knew a lot about these things, showed them just how to wrap themselves up like mummies in their blankets, and then lie with their feet to the fire. He said old hunters and cowboys always slept that way when camping in the open.