The Rival Campers; Or, The Adventures of Henry Burns

by Ruel Perley Smith

The other nodded his head sullenly.

The uproar that greeted this acknowledgment was deafening. It was several moments before order could be restored in the court-room, and then the news borne rapidly to those outside gave rise to a second tumult, which again stopped the proceedings of the court.

Then, when order had been finally restored, Harvey narrated the extraordinary events that had followed the meeting of the man in the pasture, down to his capture and confession; a confession that included the admission that he was none other than the man Chambers, and that he had set fire to the hotel for revenge.

There never was anything like the scene that followed in all the history of court procedure in the county from time out of mind. It did not take the court long, however, to declare that the youthful prisoners, whom he had felt it his solemn duty to hold for trial, were honourably cleared, and were free to go at liberty. It did not take long, considering the fact that the prisoner pleaded guilty, to hold him for trial. Nor did it take long for good-hearted Judge Ellis to descend from the bench and shake hands with the boys, each and every one of them, and congratulate them upon their complete exoneration.

Once outside the court-room, however, what a storm and tumult of congratulation awaited them. The first thing they knew there was a rush for them, and up on the shoulders of a crowd of excited fishermen they went, and were borne along, amid cheering. And Harvey, too, though he struggled against it, was borne aloft, while the news of his brave capture of the man Chambers was shouted out to all in the town.

In the midst of it all two figures were espied, slinking along toward the boat-landing, anxious to escape notice. A din of yells and catcalls and hisses told them they were discovered, and the colonel and the squire, sorry pictures of dismay and humiliation, quickened their steps and made their escape, thankful enough to escape unharmed from the indignant villagers.

“Harvey,” said George Warren, as he stood grasping the other’s hand about two hours later, as the boys formed a little group on the deck of the steamer that was heading for Southport, “you have more than evened the thing up. Tom and Bob saved you from drowning; but you have saved us all from disgrace, and I’m not sure but what I’d rather drown than go through a disgraceful ordeal like this again.”

“No,” said Harvey, clasping the hand of the other warmly. “I’m still the one that’s in debt. They saved me from more than drowning. They saved me from disgrace, too.”

“Let’s call it even, anyway,” said Henry Burns, “and shake hands all around.”

Some weeks later, as Henry Burns and George Warren sat on the veranda of the Warren cottage, looking out across the cove, a graceful yacht turned the headland and came up into the harbour.