His imagination was working like machinery, and had all the features and details of his daring act, pat.
“‘I am a boy scout,’” he repeated, “‘and can handle——’”
He raised his rifle and, aiming with dramatic gesture at nothing in particular, pulled the trigger, then dashed forward in a perfect frenzy of adventurous delight to the shore.
On the other side of the river the O’Connor boy was leaning back in the arms of one of a group of people, the boys in the boat were mending their efforts to get to shore; someone said, “There he is!” and then all eyes were upon him and Connover Bennett dropped the gun, reeled against a tree and stood staring as he realized that he was nearer to being the real Dan Dreadnought than he had dreamed.
A cold sweat broke out upon his brow, his first impulse was to run with all his might and main; but he could not stir.
[Chapter XVII]
The Real Thing
It happened that same afternoon that Tom and Roy went up to Salmon River Village to purchase some provisions for camp. The two boys were on their way back from the village and were discussing an interesting discovery which they had made while there. This was a wireless apparatus which the storekeeper had shown them with great pride for he was one of that numerous class of wireless amateurs whose aërials may be seen stretching from tree-tops to house-tops these days, and since it was his pleasure to sit into the wee hours of the morning with his head receivers on, eavesdropping on the whole world, the two scouts had agreed to exchange messages with him.
“Every man you meet seems to take some interest in the scouts,” said Tom, in allusion to the cordial storekeeper.
“Sure, even Mr. Temple’s got a light case of it.”