First of all he asked the padrone to make the people stand back, for they were crowding close in, all eyes filled with wonder at seeing mere boys performing the grave duties of army surgeons.
Their wonder grew as they saw how Hugh and Arthur seemed to know just what best to do, and how deftly their fingers worked. The dark frowns began to disappear, and confidence replaced suspicion. It would no longer be dangerous for any boy wearing that khaki uniform to move among those strikers, after they had seen with their own eyes that the mission bringing these boys to the camp had been one of peace and not of war.
Meanwhile Alec and Bud were doing their best to carry out the suggestion made by the scout master, though they found it no easy job. By dint of looking around they managed to pick up two stout poles that would answer for the sides of the stretcher, but finding a suitable substitute for the usual canvas upon which the wounded are laid, proved a still more difficult task.
They were beginning to despair when, seeing the old padrone crossing in front of them, Alec flew up and seized hold of him.
“We want something to make a stretcher out of; something strong like bagging, or a mattress tick,” he told him, gesticulating at the same time with both hands in order to emphasize his words. “You show us where to find something; we carry the wounded men here from over there by the works.”
The padrone looked puzzled at first; then as Bud quickly laid the two poles on the ground and threw himself prostrate between them, while Alec made out to take hold of the near ends, the other gave a cry as though it had dawned on his mind.
He nodded his head and, darting into a shanty close by, came out bearing a tough-looking mattress. Drawing out a knife, he sliced down one end, and deliberately proceeded to empty the corn husks it had contained upon the ground.
When the scouts found that the material though faded was still of considerable value, so far as strength was concerned, they proceeded to bind it to the poles. It required more or less ingenuity to accomplish this, for the strain would be very great, once they started to carry a man weighing at least a hundred and fifty pounds, but they had mastered much more serious problems than this, and in the end managed to secure the bed ticking to both poles in a secure though possibly clumsy fashion.
Hardly had this been accomplished than they saw Hugh hurrying toward them. He had left Arthur to finish the work of caring for the wounded man, with Billy and Ralph to render any assistance required.
“I’m anxious to get over there where the fight came off,” Hugh told the two, after he had taken a quick survey of their completed work, and apparently given it his approval. “Nobody seems to know just how many were shot down by that murderous fire of the guards. Some say five, and others hold up both hands, as if there were at least twice that many.”