“Not much they will!” he ejaculated; “with that wide-awake Mrs. Marsh present, backed by a lady who can strike out from the shoulder like Mrs. Beverly.”
“Besides,” added Walter, “don’t forget what Hugh told us about the sudden change of front on the part of Mayor Strunk. He saw a great light when he learned how his favorite little granddaughter had come near being run over by a team at that dangerous crossing of the three roads in town.”
“Then there’s another thing that’s bound to cut some figure in the decision of the town Council to-night,” said Billy. “Public sentiment has been aroused, and is at white heat. It seems as if everything combined to happen all at once, for this very afternoon old Mr. Merkle was knocked down by a speeding car that got away without anybody learning its number. He was badly hurt, and they took him to the hospital; but we’ve been told that the brave old chap, nearly eighty-five years of age, has sent a message of cheer to the ladies from his bed, telling them that he glories in being a martyr to the good cause.”
“Every fellow take off his hat to old Mr. Merkle, for he’s made of the stuff our Revolutionary fathers had in them when this country dared defy Great Britain,” and as Walter Osborne said this, each scout raised his campaign hat with a touch of respect for the grand old hero lying on his bed of pain, yet able to think of the reform movement that was sweeping through the town.
“Here comes Hugh now!” called out a fellow on the outskirts of the group.
“And he looks as if he felt satisfied with the way things were going,” another hastened to say.
The young assistant scout master quickly joined them. He was besieged by numerous questions. Indeed, so thick and fast did these come that Hugh laughed and threw up his hands, as though to shield himself from a fall of hailstones.
“Hold up, fellows,” he told them; “what do you take me for? When you send them at me like that it makes me feel as the street urchin did who crawled into an empty sugar hogshead, and, seeing the riches around him, wished for a thousand tongues. Give me a fair chance and I’ll tell what little I’ve been able to pick up.”
Accordingly they quieted down, though still pressing around Hugh, and hanging on his every word. Confidence in their leader is one of the highest attributes of praise scouts can show; and the members of Oakvale Troop felt this to the limit in the boy who had been elected to serve them in that capacity. So often had Hugh Hardin proved his ability to fill his exalted position that no one ever dreamed nowadays of contesting the leadership with him.
“I managed to interview Zack Huffman,” explained Hugh, “who had been inside, but had to go home to his family because his wife is sick. He could stop only a minute or so to talk, but he told me the sentiment was overwhelmingly in favor of carrying out the whole sweeping programme. The ladies have got in the saddle, so he said, and mean to ride at the head of the procession. You remember Zack is something of a scholar, and you ought to have heard him tell how they expect to beat the record of Hercules in cleaning the Augean stables.”