They had reached the outskirts of the village, and the car was just turning into the lighted main street, when a sudden shout halted the chauffeur, who slowed down and stopped. A moment later the car was surrounded by a mob of excited boys and before Steve realized what was happening, he was dragged from his seat by a dozen hands, while a score of voices poured question after question into his dazed ears.
It was Mr. Wendell who came to his rescue and to whom he conveyed the information that the fire was under control and everything practically all right. Seeing the boy’s state of exhaustion, the scoutmaster did not press him further, and the whole crowd turned back to the docks, with Haddon in the center. It was not human nature to refrain from asking questions, and little by little during their trip back to camp the essential incidents of Steve’s adventures were extracted in scraps and disjointed sentences.
The details followed next morning. A night’s rest put new life into the boy and though he hated talking about himself, he very soon found that he would have no peace until he had answered every question. It was Cavanaugh, in fact, who suggested to Mr. Wendell soon after breakfast that Haddon might as well tell his story to the assembled crowd and get it over with.
“I guess you’re right, Jim,” agreed the scoutmaster. “We really ought to save the yarn for the council fire to-night, but I don’t suppose the fellows can wait that long. As a matter of fact I feel a sort of hankering myself to know just how it all came about.”
And so, in the shade of the mess tent, with the scouts gathered about him in a close circle, Steve told his tale. He was stammering and embarrassed at first, but gradually he warmed to the narration, losing his self consciousness in the interest of recalling the strenuous hours on Loon Island and in the pursuit along the beach through the storm. To be sure, he quite failed to do himself justice and only persistent questioning brought out the details he slurred over. But Cavvy, who sat beside him, saw to it that those questions were asked and answered, and when it was over the two strolled off together.
“And to think that we laughed that night you told us about the man in the dory,” remarked the blond fellow whimsically after a brief silence.
“I suppose it sounded awfully silly the way I put it,” said Steve quickly.
“We were the silly ones—regular nuts, in fact.” Cavvy sighed. “I wish to thunder I’d been with you, old kid.”
Steve laughed a little. “I wish you had. I never wanted anything more in my life when I was stumbling along that beach through the dark. I was scared then, all right. Now, if you’d only been along—”
“We’d have been scared together, I guess,” chuckled Cavvy. “Well, I wasn’t, and that’s an end to it. How does it feel to be a celebrity? You’ll have your name in the paper, and be thanked by the Government, and—”