The Young Wireless Operator—As a Fire Patrol / Or, The Story of a Young Wireless Amateur Who Made Good as a Fire Patrol

by Lewis E. Theiss

An Accident in the Wilderness

As though she also were pleased at Charley's good fortune, Dame Nature smiled her best in the days that immediately followed. The sun rose warm and grateful. The forest was instinct with the spirit of spring, of new-born life, of hope eternal. Wilderness birds sang in the branches. The brook babbled and gurgled and ran madly down the slope. The leaves overhead whispered of the new life that had come. All the forest animals seemed filled with the joy of living. And Charley was not a whit behind them. His whole being thrilled with happiness.

Now he could see matters in their true light; or if his vision were a trifle clouded, the clouds were tinged with rose instead of black, as they had been previously.

Charley thanked Providence that he was just where he was. In some respects an unusual boy, he was mentally no abler than many of his fellows. He possessed a trueness of vision and an understanding of things that were, however, unusual in a lad of his age. Always he had had to earn the things that he wanted. And always he had been able, within reason, to get what he desired. Early in life, therefore, he had come to understand that everything has its price, and that he who is willing to pay the price can get almost anything he wishes. So now, instead of bewailing the fact that he was where he was, as many another lad would have done under the circumstances, he rejoiced. He rejoiced because he had sense enough to understand that his opportunity was at hand, here in the forest, and now.

In another respect Charley was mature for his years. He had come to understand, at least in a measure, that real success is always won by long and persistent effort in a given direction. Like other boys, Charley had his dreams and cherished lofty ambitions. But the stern necessities of life, as he had lived it, had taught him that dreams seldom come true as the result of luck, but are realized most certainly through consistent effort. He did not want to go to work in the factory because he hated the dirt and the noise and the odors and the sense of being cooped up, like an animal in a pen. Now he had all the freedom in the world, and the opportunity had come to become well acquainted with the things that he loved--trees, flowers, ferns, birds, animals, and all the other gifts of nature.

When Charley looked abroad and realized that his opportunity had come, and come in such a delightful way, he could hardly keep from shouting in his happiness. Like the sensible lad he was, he immediately asked himself this question, "What is the best thing for me to do first?" He decided that he would go on with the training of his pup. All day, as he walked through the forest, he labored to teach the young dog to trot quietly at his heels, or to walk silently in front of him.

Charley's purpose, of course, was to have the dog always at hand, to give him warning of the approach of man or beast, and to fight for him, if necessary. That the pup should learn not to betray himself or his master, was equally needful. So Charley had the additional task of teaching the dog to be silent, excepting for a very low growl, upon the approach of other creatures. Charley thought of the Leatherstocking and his dog, and wondered how that dog had been trained so wonderfully.

Day after day the lessons continued. Charley had abundant opportunity to work with the pup, for the forest was full of creatures that constantly excited the young animal. The training required no end of patience: but Charley loved the dog and never wearied in his efforts. By the time he had completed his labors with the pup, his own shadow was hardly more constant and quiet than the dog.

Charley was elated one day when the dog signaled the approach of a fisherman by no more than the faintest sort of a bark, and then at command, came promptly to heel and remained there, silent and watchful. It was the pup's first test with human beings. The fisherman proved to be one of two who were making their way along the margin of the run. Charley and the dog remained quietly behind some bushes until the fishermen were out of sight and hearing. Then Charley praised his little pup and went on.

His efforts with the dog, however, did not prevent him from thinking of other matters. Day after day his mind returned to the problem of the forest fire and the piece of green pasteboard. Ever since he had found the telltale pile of ashes and the charred pasteboard beneath it, Charley had been turning the problem over in his mind. How he was to solve the puzzle he did not see. Somewhere, he felt sure, he had seen pasteboard like the charred piece now in possession of Mr. Morton; but when or where he had seen it, he had not the slightest recollection. How he was ever to find another piece like it, he could not imagine; for as a fire patrol he had neither time nor opportunity to mingle with people.