And the car had stopped, depositing a broad-shouldered young man who saw what had occurred and was now making rapid strides toward Davy. The ruffian, scenting trouble, picked himself up, and limped a double-quick retreat through the shadow and around the corner—without the bag!
“Well, well, here you are, standing by your guns, just as she said you’d be!” The young man was addressing Davy, who had managed to get on his legs once more and regain his charge. “Say, but you’re game all right!” At the word of appreciation and the comradely slap on his shoulder, Davy suddenly didn’t mind any more about the long waiting, losing the job, and having the wind knocked out of him.
“You’re looking pretty white about the gills, though,” the big young man’s voice was very kind. “Beastly long ten minutes, wasn’t it? She didn’t count on fainting, you see, and that sort of thing. She’s my sister—teaches in the South—was going to spring a surprise on the family by coming home for the holidays. Here, I’ll take that ark off your hands and start you homeward. Your folks’ll be getting worried about you.”
Ah, the trusty snow shovel, trip-ity-rip! Over it went the enemy
Oh, how Davy longed to accept the proffered release! But no, “I—I—I can’t,” he stammered. “I promised, and a scout has to keep his word.” Oh, it was hard to say “no” to this friendly young man. It took almost more courage than fighting the ruffian.
“Well, that’s a good one on me!” The big young man turned away his face to save Davy’s feelings. “A scout, did I hear you say?” He was quite serious now. “But you’re some way short of twelve?”
Then, of course, Davy had to tell about the secret badge, who he was, where he lived, Cousin Fred, and the encounter with the ruffian.
“Come, give us your hand, brother scout. You’re the real article, certificate or no certificate!” Davy’s small, mittened palm was taken in a mighty grip. “Now stand on the suitcase and look here”—the big young man opened his greatcoat—“on my sleeve, can you see?” taking out a pocket flashlight.
Davy saw. The badge of the scout master—a sure guarantee of all that was honorable and loyal, trustworthy and brave. It was like the coming of the Prince in fairy tales. Davy’s eyes glowed. Words failed him, but off came his right red mitten and three fingers were raised to his forehead in reverent salute. Then he quietly slipped from the suitcase, and, the weary watch over at last, joyfully resigned his charge into lawful hands.