LAYING PLANS
Like magic, it seemed, all that clamor died away.
Men and women simply stared at the terrible spectacle of that boy crouched there in the street, and that huge dog advancing directly toward him, with eager mien. Doubtless many a prayer was offered up for the safety of the lad who had thrown himself into the breach between that brute and the innocent children who thronged the square just beyond.
"Hey, Bluff! Aim right atween his bloomin' old eyes!" called Pet from his perch.
"Shoot!" shouted one man, almost wild because the dog was now so very near the kneeling boy, whom he imagined must be petrified with fear.
But Bluff was waiting. He wanted to make sure. The shot in his gun was small, and intended for birds. To render it effective against such a beast it must go at close quarters, when it would have all the force of a bullet.
Along that glistening barrel he could see the flaming eyes of the vicious dog, now not more than twenty feet away. Then he pulled the trigger!
Just as though he were shooting ducks in the slough at the foot of the lake, Bluff instantly made a movement with his hands that Jerry always likened to the action of a pump handle. Thank goodness! The locksmith had done his job well, for the mechanism of the gun worked like a charm, sending the empty shell flying, and pushing a full one into place.
He again aimed his weapon. The dog was on the ground, kicking, but even as Bluff looked he struggled up again. This was the signal for a second shot, and after that there was one last movement and the hideous creature lay there, still.
Then broke out a wild shout that was taken up along the whole street. People came thronging out of the houses to rush forward and gaze upon the monster that had sent them into such a panic of fear. A few thought to wring the hand of Bluff and thank him for what he had done.
The boy was no longer white. He had turned furiously red under these praises, and hardly knew what to do or say, it was so embarrassing. Mr. Melod, the choirmaster, wrung his hand, while tears came into his eyes.
"My dear boy, I am proud of you this day. That was a noble deed of yours, and deserves to be handed down in the annals of Centerville, as an incentive to the coming generations," he said with deep feeling.
"Oh, shucks! That wasn't so very much, sir. Any fellow with a gun would have done it. What would they have thought of me running away, and with this thing in my hands? I'm only ashamed to say I was about as badly scared as Pet here. He didn't have a gun, so he climbed a tree," stammered the boy, trying to break loose from the encircling arms of Miss Samantha Green, the old-maid milliner, who had witnessed the entire performance from the window of her shop, and was inclined to be sentimental at all times.
"Yes, I had a big stone up there with me, fellers, an' I was a-goin' tuh crack the pup on the head with it w'en he kim under the tree; but Bluff he got first say, as he allers does. It ain't fair, I tell yuh. I'd a-give the dorg a plunk that would a made him croak," declared Pet, shaking his head ferociously.
"Listen to him, will you, boys!" exclaimed Jerry Wallington, as with a quick movement he snatched from the hand of the other the rock which he had intended should demolish the big brute, and held it up. "This pebble is what Pet meant to throw at that yellow beast. Like as not it would have hurt him as much as a peashooter might. Talk to me about that for bravery, will you? Only for my chum, somebody might have been hurt. He's all to the good!"
Bluff had been watching his chance, and as soon as the excited old maid freed her arms he darted away, followed by two other boys. These were Jerry, and Will Milton, the latter of whom was smiling all over his face.
"That was the time luck followed me, fellows. The photographer just loaded my camera for me when I was buying a new lot of films, and if I didn't snap off five of the dandiest pictures of that little circus you ever saw. Wait till I get a chance to develop them, and see," he was rattling along.
"There comes Frank, too! Stop and wait for him, boys," said Jerry just then.
A fourth lad quickly joined the group. He was a fine-looking boy, with a face full of determination and quiet courage. His first act was to seize the hand of the still blushing Bluff and squeeze it fiercely.
"Great work, old man! The best ever! Lucky chap that you were to have that gun of yours along. I happened to be in the drugstore, and the people came pushing in so fast that it was impossible to get out. So I glued my nose to a window, and saw it all. My heart was in my throat; but I knew you wouldn't fail, though to tell the honest truth, I wasn't half so certain about the gun."
"Then it's up to you to apologize to the bully old gun right away," said Bluff. "Didn't she act great? Why, it was as easy as falling off a log. Anybody could have done it. And don't you believe there was any hero business about it, either. I was that badly scared my hands shook as if I had fever and ague, like poor old Dad Atkins. Just pure luck carried me through, fellows."
"Don't you believe it for a minute," declared Will vehemently, at this juncture, "and when my pictures are developed I can prove it. I was only fifty feet away, hardly that, and I give you my word that when the cur was almost on top of Bluff all his shake left him. He aimed that gun as if he was shooting at a set target."
"And to hear that big blower, Pet Peters, say he was ready to smash the brute's cranium in with a rock, when he was gripping a pebble not half as large as my hand! That is a joke to make me laugh," went on Jerry.
"What's that?" demanded Frank, who had not been present when the boast was made.
"Pet was jealous. He says Bluff always cuts him out from hanging on to the glory part. He was telling about snatching up a big rock, meaning to let it drop on the head of the mad dog as he went under the limb of the tree, when Jerry pulled it out of his hand. Here it is—I picked it up for a memento."
Will held up a small stone as he spoke, at which Frank burst into a laugh.
"I suppose at the time Pet really thought he was picking up a boulder. What do you suppose that hard-headed brute would have thought if this pebble had struck him? It would have been a flea bite. But for one, I'm done laughing at that newfangled gun of yours, Bluff."
"Me, too. I've said some mighty mean things about it in the past, pard, but never again. Talk to me about a handy thing to have about the house, that same gun just seems to wallow in luck. It's Johnny-on-the-spot when most needed. I may still believe in my double-barrel as the best thing on earth, but this contraption has its uses, and many of 'em."
Which was saying pretty much for Jerry.
"But I saw you talking to Pet before all that row broke out," remarked Will.
"Yes; he stopped me to jeer at the gun, like a good many other fellows, who don't know a good thing when they see it," answered Bluff, grinning amiably.
"Well, perhaps he's also changed his mind about it, like Jerry here," laughed Frank.
"To tell the honest truth, boys, perhaps it was something Pet said that made me determine it was my duty to stand there and knock that beast over," admitted Bluff, as if determined to confess all his shortcomings while about it.
"And what was that?" asked Jerry, frowning, for he detested Pet above all other boys in town.
"He was saying that it didn't take much courage to hold up fellows when one had a gun and they didn't; he also took occasion to rub it in, and declare that I was by nature a timid sort of a chap, well named Bluff. Do you know, what he said came to me like a flash, even while my legs were bent on carrying me across the street to a store or a tree. That was why I stopped so suddenly. I was ashamed to run while I held this gun. So you see there was no bravery about it, only desperation."
"Humbug! That's what most so-called bravery is, old fellow," said Frank, patting him on the back.
"I saw you talking to Sandy Griggs, too," remarked Will.
"Say, that reminds me! I've got a plan to propose for a short outing. We were fortunate enough to discover the secret of the wild man of the island, last spring—what's to hinder us from going out to Oak Ridge and doing a little investigating there, eh?" demanded Bluff eagerly.
The others looked at him curiously.
"Oak Ridge—that's out in the Sunset Mountains," remarked Will dubiously.
"Seems to me I've heard considerable of that place lately. Isn't there some sort of a ghost story going the rounds about it?" asked Frank, smiling.
"Tell me about that, will you?" burst out Jerry, bristling up. "Bluff isn't content with the laurels he's already won, but sighs for more. First it was the wild man we rounded up, and now he hankers after laying a real genuine ghost by the heels. Count me in, if you decide to go. I'm always eager to have a share in all kinds of excitement, you know."
"Sandy says Caleb, the canal lockkeeper, saw the ghost really and truly. Caleb isn't a drinking man, either, so he must have seen something or other. What do you say, boys? Would it be fun, or not, to camp out in that range of hills and run down this story of a ghost?" demanded Bluff.
"Those in favor, raise a hand," said Frank.
Instantly four hands went up.
"That settles it, then," declared the leader of the four chums. "We will go to-morrow to camp along Oak Ridge, and discover, if we can, the truth about this talked-of ghost."