“It might make a serious flood for all the valley below. As we came along on the train that brought us here, I noticed the water was lapping the embankment in a number of places. I hope they don’t have a washout that would keep us marooned here in Lawrence, and away from home.”
The boy whose name was Billy, and who was a good-natured looking, stoutly built chap, dressed, underneath his raincoat, in the khaki of a scout, whistled and allowed a gleam of additional interest to sweep across his face as he exclaimed:
“Gee whittaker! That would be an interesting experience! And Hugh, two members in good standing of the Wolf Patrol, Oakvale Troop of Boy Scouts, might find some bully opportunities for showing what scouts can do in emergencies. Between you and me I don’t know but what I’d be glad of a chance to be marooned in the flood belt, so as to watch the circus.”
The two lads were Hugh Hardin and Billy Worth, whose names have become household words to such boys as have had the pleasure of reading previous volumes of this series.
Since there may be new readers who are making the acquaintance of the lively members of the famous Wolf Patrol for the first time, perhaps it would be only fair for us to turn back a little and say something concerning Hugh and his friends.
At first, the new movement had not taken hold in Oakvale with any great speed, so that the Wolf Patrol composed the entire membership of the troop. But Hugh Hardin, Billy Worth, Bud Morgan, Arthur Cameron, and the other members began to have such a grand time that more boys evinced an ardent desire to join.
So another patrol had been started, and the good work continued from month to month, until, at the time this story opens, there were the Hawks under Walter Osborne, the Otters with Alec Sands as leader, the Fox Patrol in charge of Don Miller, and a new detachment to be called the Owls, which Lige Corbley had recently been organizing.
Besides being the leader of the Wolf Patrol, Hugh sometimes acted as assistant scout master in the absence of Lieutenant Denmead, a retired army officer who gave considerable time to the boys, for whom he felt sincere affection.
These lads had many times been in camp on the slopes of Old Stormberg Mountain, near their native town; and in and upon the clear waters of the lake they had paddled, fished, swam, and enjoyed every aquatic sport known to them.
Many of them were posted in all the valuable knowledge that a true scout deems essential to his well-being. Occasions had arisen whereby certain favored members of the troop had been enabled to pass through rather remarkable experiences in other sections of the country.