Lucky, the Boy Scout

by Elmer Sherwood

THE story, as Miss White told it, was not unusual in that part of the city, but to John Dean there was every element of newness in it.

He listened without interruption as the story unfolded itself.

Mrs. Marsh, Ted’s mother, had had a hard time of it. Bill Marsh had married her eighteen years ago. Bill was a good mechanic, but after about six years of happiness things began to go wrong. He lost his position and at that time work was not easy to get. Day after day he had searched for something to do. Discouraged, he had taken to drink. Then there was a day when Bill did not return. In all these years Mrs. Marsh had never heard of him. She felt he was dead, yet even that she did not know.

It was a hard struggle afterward. Sewing and washing, early and late, and many a day she went hungry, so that the two children could eat. The mother often spoke of how Ted, when eight years old, had gone out one afternoon and had not returned until seven o’clock. Without a word he had put fifteen cents on the table and then had turned to eat. He showed by the way he ate how hungry he was. After the meal was over, he explained how he had made up his mind to support the family, and so he had bought some papers; the fifteen cents was profit. His capital, also some extra pennies, was intact, so that he could buy more papers.

“I’m going to support this family,” Ted had said, “I’m the man and it’s up to me.”

That was the beginning of Ted as a newsboy. He was very proud of his newsboy badge, and gradually, as he grew older, his help was quite a big share of the family expense, it counted against the family burden.

When Ted was almost eleven, he had joined the Settlement. Miss Wells, who grew to know the boy, his fine qualities, his independence and manliness had had a wonderful influence upon him. But there was also in Ted that mischievous streak, that spirit of fun, and even of trouble-making that every healthy, normal boy has.

It was through one of these mischievous pranks that Miss Wells had first met Ted. One day the boys had shut themselves in a room, six or seven of them, and bolted the door. When Mr. Jones, who was the Settlement Boys’ Worker, had asked them to come out, none of them wanted to show the white feather, and so they had not answered him, but had continued to stay in there. Mr. Jones locked the door with a key and left them, expecting that very soon they would call out, send an S. O. S., and beg to be let out. But there was no call, and after a half hour or so he had gone back to the door. It was very quiet within, unusually so. He managed to open the door after quite a lot of work. The room was empty.

There was only one other way out, through the window. It was a sheer drop of twenty or more feet, so to escape from there seemed out of the question. The last boy dropping out of the window could not, of course, stop to close it, and the fact remained that the window was closed.

Could they have come out through the door? He was sure they had not done so, as he had been very near the room all of the time. Then, too, it was hardly likely that any of the boys would have had a key to fit the rather unusual lock.