“I did, Mr. Prentice,” answered Hugh, modestly but firmly; “but only when I saw that the car was heading downward, and that it would likely strike the wagonload of children stalled on the crossing.”
Mr. Prentice did not say another word. He looked hard at the boy, who did not allow his eyes to drop a particle. Mr. Prentice was thinking many things just then; his mind must have been in a riotous condition.
He went back and again looked around at the scene of the wreck, up the hill, then down to where the wagon had been stalled.
“I guess he understands pretty well what a great thing you did for him when you jumped that car off the track, Hugh,” muttered Billy, as they watched the quarry owner moving around, and talking with the man who had abandoned the runaway car on finding the brake had given way.
“All I’m hoping is that he makes up his mind now never to drop another load of rock down this grade till he’s made it safe for anyone passing on the county road below,” Hugh replied.
“But he didn’t even thank you, Hugh.”
“I never expected he would, and it doesn’t matter a particle to me if he keeps on forgetting to,” said the scout master, smilingly. “There’s enough satisfaction in knowing you’ve done your duty, without looking for thanks or praise. The feeling that comes from within beats any outside commendation all hollow, according to my way of thinking.”
“Huh! I’d just like to tell the old man what I think of him,” grumbled the indignant Billy.
“For fear you might be tempted to say something you’d be sorry for afterward,” remarked Hugh, “suppose we slip down to the road and head for home.”
Though still grumbling, and evidently feeling pretty hard toward Mr. Prentice, Billy could not refuse to keep his chum company as the other started down the side of the hill in the direction of the road. He looked back several times, however, and said a few things half under his breath, which could not have been very complimentary to the quarryman, if the sour expression on Billy’s round face stood for anything.