“W—w—where am I? W—w—what happened?” gasped the other, as the first touch of color began to creep into his white cheeks.
“You were in the river,” said Bud quickly, as though ready to shoulder all the blame. “We thought you were only fooling when you said you couldn’t swim a stroke. It was your brother that used to be a regular fish in the water. We got you mixed, you see, and thought you were just trying to pull the wool over our eyes. But I guess you’d have drowned if it hadn’t been for Hugh here. He dragged you out after you went under the third time.”
“With your help, Bud,” interposed Hugh modestly.
“I don’t deserve a bit of credit,” said the other scout moodily. “I was a fool to do what I did. Smith, I hope you can forgive me. We wanted to punish you for littering up the mayor’s lawn the way you helped to do. That was a shame, but two wrongs don’t make a right. Perhaps you were led into it by that scheming Lige Corbley. There’s some excuse for you, Smith, but none for me. I’m a scout, and I ought to have known better. Will you shake hands and forgive me for throwing you into the river?”
Whistling Smith was more or less dazed. He looked hard at Bud, as though trying to connect matters in his mind. Then he slowly raised his hand, for he was still very weak.
“I reckon it’s all right, Bud,” he said. “I was a fool myself to be led into that silly game. Perhaps I only got what I deserved. In the future, I mean to cut loose from that crowd. They’re too swift for me. This is going to be a big lesson, let me tell you. I don’t know what my mother’d have said if I was arrested and locked up. If you fellows are willing to call it an even thing, I am.”
Every one of the scouts quickly declared that they stood ready to wipe all scores off the slate. Others besides Bud felt a sensation as of remorse; and they were glad beyond words that things had come out as favorably as they had. If Whistling Smith had never been resuscitated, what misery would have been their portion through the remainder of their lives.
“It wouldn’t have happened if we’d only waited for Hugh to get here,” admitted Arthur frankly. “Chances are he’d have believed what you said and only soused you in shallow water. We took big risks in doing what we did. You’ve had a lesson, Smith, you say, but think of us scouts not knowing better!”
“Yes,” added Alec, also repentant now, “and come to think of it, I ought to be kicked for not remembering that it wasn’t Whistling Smith but his brother Bob who could swim like a duck. Slipped my mind in all the excitement. Never again for me will such a thing as this happen.”
“I think we all have good reason to be thankful it was no worse,” declared Hugh; “but get up and exercise some, Smith. We want you to warm up before you start on a run for home. Get to bed as soon as you can, and be sure to have a blanket on. The weather is so warm I don’t think you’ll be apt to suffer from your ducking.”