The rest of the remark was indistinguishable, for the speakers were moving away from the church in the direction of the better class, residential section. Presently, even the rising and falling murmur of voices ceased, but still the figure in the shadow of the church tower did not stir. When at last he moved slowly forward into the circle of an electric light, something of the hard grayness of the stone might almost have come into his face.
“‘A scout is a friend to all and a brother to every other scout,’” he said, half aloud, as he turned in an opposite direction to that taken by Phelps and his companion.
Then he laughed. It wasn’t exactly a pleasant sound. There was no mirth in it; only scorn, derision, and, under all the rest, a note of pain that could not quite be hidden.
CHAPTER III
THE SILVER LINING
“Say, fellows, did you hear about Jimmy Warren’s kid brother?” eagerly inquired Court Parker, skipping up to a group gathered about the school steps next morning.
From force of habit, expectant grins wreathed several faces. “Huh!” grunted Bob Gibson, suspiciously. “What’s the joke?”
“Joke!” repeated the latest comer, indignantly. “There isn’t any joke. What gave you that idea? It came pretty near being serious, I can tell you. One of the electric feed-wires got loose in the storm yesterday, and hung down in front of Jimmy’s house on Pine Street. Before anybody else saw it, that crazy kid Georgie had to go out and grab hold of it with both hands.”
He paused an instant for breath, and a concerted exclamation went up from the crowd that had gathered swiftly about him. “Gee!” exclaimed stout Harry Vedder. “And the current still on, I s’pose?”
“Of course it was! Dad told me how many volts. I forget. Anyhow, Georgie got hold and couldn’t let go. They said he yelled to beat the band, and then went clean out. A crowd got around right away, but nobody seemed to know what to do. One man ran in and started ’phoning for ’em to turn off the current; and while he was gone, what do you think happened? A kid with a bunch of papers came along, and jumped right in and grabbed hold of Georgie to pull him off the wire. They said that when the current hit him it was like being kicked by a horse. He went clean across the street and banged his head an awful whack on the curb. He got up sort of groggy, but he must have been a game one, for he came right back, wrapped some newspapers around his hands, and had Georgie loose in a jiffy!”
“Great!” came in an appreciative chorus. Then one of the third-grade boys piped up curiously. “But what good was the newspaper?”