The last wavering movements of Thad's torch far away in the distance told that he was echoing this concluding word. Then it vanished.
The talk-fest was over; and Step Hen felt that at least he had done himself proud for one who had paid so little attention to this really important adjunct to the education of a Boy Scout.
"And mark me, Toby," he mumbled as the guide kindly threw an arm about his tottering figure, though Step Hen hardly comprehended the fact, "I'm agoin' to take up wigwag work after this, sure I am. Never thought it could be so interestin'. It's sure great. Here's our camp, ain't it? You tell the boys what I did, won't you Toby; I'm feelin' kinder tired like? Guess I'll sit down a spell."
Davy Jones and Smithy were wild to know how it had all turned out; and while the murmur of the guide's voice sounded, as he related the story of the message sending, poor played-out Step Hen sank to the ground, dead for sleep.
In less than two minutes he was lost to the world, the last thing he heard being the low voice of Toby Smathers, recounting the recent splendid feat of the scout whose message had undoubtedly saved Aleck Rawson from impending trouble.
CHAPTER XX.
SHERIFF BOB'S BOMB EXPLODES.
"There they come!"
It was the observant "Old Eagle Eye," as some of the boys called Giraffe, who gave utterance to these words.