The Boy Scouts in A Trapper's Camp

by Thornton W. Burgess

Pat stretched his arms and drew a long breath of the cold, rarified air, then expelled it in an audible sigh of supreme content.

"Arrah now, 'tis me foist breath av real air in a week, and the two lungs av me aching for ut," said he. "Shure 'twill make the likes av ye grow to a man's size in a week, me bantam, and thot's more than Noo Yor-r-k will be doing for ye in a loifetoime," giving Sparrer a hearty slap on the back. "Hal, I thought those passes read to Upper Chain, and here we be dropped in a snow-bank. I'll be after making complaint to the management for inconveniencing four gentlemen and reducing them to the ranks of common laborers."

The others laughed as they followed Pat's example and shouldered their duffle to tramp the hundred yards up to the station, for they had been in the rear car. In a few minutes they were in the bare little waiting room, in the middle of which a big stove was radiating welcome heat, and exchanging greetings with the night operator, who having wired the arrival and departure of the train was preparing to go home, for there would be no more traffic for many hours. He shook hands warmly with Walter and Hal, whom he recognized at once as Woodcraft Camp boys, was introduced to Sparrer, and jollied Pat on what he was pleased to term his "New York airs."

"I reckon your mother is waiting for you, Pat," said he. "I saw a light over at the house when I came along. You're welcome to stay here until daylight, but I expect she's looking for you over there."

"I wrote her we'd be there to breakfast, but not to get up any earlier on that account," replied Pat. His eyes danced. "Shure the ould lady thinks her son has been in the hands av the inimy and cannot rest aisy 'til she sees for herself that not a hair av his red head has been left in Noo'Yor-r-k. God bless her. We'll go over there and relieve her mind."

In speaking of his mother as the "ould lady" there was nothing disrespectful on the part of Pat. In reality it was a term of endearment. The stars were beginning to pale as the boys made their way in single file along a narrow path through the snow toward the yellow gleam of a light set in the window of one of the rough frame houses that made up the village. Pat led straight for this.

"Hello!" exclaimed Upton in surprise. "Have you deserted the old cabin?"

"Sure," replied Pat, and there was just a suggestion of pride in his voice. "The mother was a long time between log walls, but now, the saints be praised, she do be living in one of the illigant mansions of Upper Chain, and by that token is a member of the aristocracy. Moved in last fall."

By this time they had reached the house and at the sound of voices the door was thrown open and Mrs. Malone stood in the doorway looking out eagerly. It was a warm Irish greeting that the boys received and Hal, who never had met her before, understood where Pat got his humor and ready tongue. He at once dropped into his old brogue entirely and while Mrs. Malone bustled about putting a hot breakfast on the table Pat told her of his adventures in the great city as only he could. From time to time she interrupted with comments so like Pat's own ready repartee that between the two the boys were kept in a gale of laughter.

"Eating breakfast by lamplight is a new experience to me," declared Hal as they sat down to bacon, corn bread just from the oven, flapjacks with thick maple syrup, and coffee.