“I guess I will, Hugh,” admitted Gus, smiling at the other with eyes that sparkled as though they contained dewdrops, “because I’ll be dreaming of her, and how glad she’ll be when she knows I’ve succeeded in the mission she entrusted to my hands, thanks to the help of my chums.”
“Yes,” said the scout master, with a hand on the shoulder of Gus, “and depend on it, old fellow, before many moons pass by I’m going to see to it that your name is written on the Roll of Honor they keep at scout headquarters for all those who save human life at the risk of their own. You’re entitled to wear a medal on your coat for what you’ve done this night, if any of us won the honor.” And doubtless Gus Merrivale would sleep all the sounder that night on account of knowing that the ambition he had so long cherished above all other scout aims was in a fair way of being realized at last.
CHAPTER XII.
THANKSGIVING IN CAMP.
The last thing before crawling under his blanket, Arthur, the “seasoned weather-sharp” of the troop, had called the attention of his mates to the fact that, just as he had predicted, the wind was commencing to come out of the Northwest, so that the rain that had been blown so wildly before the gale had already, no doubt, commenced to turn into sleet.
“We’re going to have the queerest Thanksgiving ever heard of in this section of the country,” Arthur had said. “Mark my words if it doesn’t change into a regular baby blizzard. Oakvale fellows won’t want to bother much with any football this year, if I know what’s what.”
All night long the wind whistled and moaned, and even howled at times around the corners of the bunk-house. Inside, it was fairly cheerful, for many times did Hugh get up and renew the fire which ate up the fuel at an alarming rate, as always happens when the wind blows at a gale. Finally, when morning came, and there were heard sounds to indicate that some of the sleepers had awakened, the place felt pretty cold. That was remedied, however, after the fire had been built up so that it fairly roared.
No sooner was Gus up than he went to where his brother lay.
“How are you feeling, Sam?” he asked, upon discovering that the other was awake.
“I hardly know yet,” came the reply. “I reckon I’ll be weak for a short spell, but that doctor of yours has done me heaps of good, and you can wager I’m bound to pull through all right. I’ve got a new lease of life, Gus, since you told me what you did about father. I’m crazy to see mother, and little baby sister Amy, too.”
Gus laughed. He was feeling ever so much more light-hearted himself, now that things had turned out so well.