With this discreet plan of action rapidly forming in his mind, Rob was even in the act of hastily drawing both his chums back behind a wall until all the excitement had subsided, when he made a discovery that brought his scheme to a halt.
It was, after all, only a pony that had been seized with an attack of blind staggers, and was now dashing frantically away, with a little basket-cart dragging back and forth at his heels; but in that cart Rob saw was a frightened child.
In that moment, Rob struggled with a grave question. To show themselves before a crowd such as would likely gather, was full of danger, not only to themselves, but for their mission as well. At the same time there was a something within his soul that refused to avoid the responsibility by shutting his eyes.
He could not do it. He knew that child was in deadly peril, for, small as the pony might be, just then he was acting like a little demon. If he allowed the runaway to go by, and something dreadful happened, how could he ever reconcile his action with his vows as a true-blue scout?
So Rob's mind was made up.
"Merritt, we must save that poor little child, come what will!" he exclaimed; and that loyal comrade, forgetting all else for humanity's sake, instantly cried:
"We will, Rob! Hurry and get on one side, while I look out for the other!"