The Boy Scout Fire Fighters

Irving Crump

Copyright 1917

Barse and Company

CONTENTS

CHAPTERS I. The Motorcycle Fire Brigade II. The Firemen's Tournament III. Boy Scouts to the Rescue IV. When the Circus Came to Town V. A Scout is Resourceful VI. Helping to Make the Movies VII. Ethan Allen Comes To Life Again VIII. The Prize Contest IX. Working to Win X. The Boy from Arizona XI. The Courage of a Coward XII. The Scout Life Guards' Beach Patrol XIII. The Day of the Big Race XIV. When the Unexpected Happened XV. A Narrow Escape XVI. Quarry Troop's Christmas

CHAPTER I

THE MOTORCYCLE FIRE BRIGADE

"By Jiminy, that was some fire for an old hay barn, wasn't it, fellows?"exclaimed Jiminy Gordon, as he entered the meeting room at headquarters. His eyes were flashing excitement and he was thoroughly out of breathfrom running up the long Otter Creek Hill. "I stayed until the lastspark was out, " he said, as he dropped into a chair beside BruceClifford, leader of the Owl Patrol of Quarry Troop No. 1. 

"Some fire, is perfectly correct, " said Bruce bitterly, "though itneedn't have been anything more than an ordinary blaze. I tell you theWoodbridge Fire Department needs a little pep, fellows. " This last was addressed to the four other occupants of the room, Bud Weir, Romper Ryan, Babe Wilson and Nipper Knapp. 

"Right, " said Romper. 

"The way they went about it was a farce, " said Bud. 

"Yes, they all had to have their red flannel shirts on, " remarked Babe, the fat boy, sarcastically. 

"Say, did you see 'em scrapping over who should carry the fire trumpet?"laughed Romper. 

"Sure, and about six men were giving orders, " put in Jiminy, who hadcaught the spirit of the remarks. 

"And no one obeyed any of 'em, " supplemented Babe, sarcastic as usual. 

"But the finest exhibition of firemanship was when one of the nozzlemenlet go of the only hose they got on the fire while he hunted through hispockets for a paper of tobacco or something else just as important, " saidBruce. "Of course the other nozzleman couldn't hold onto the hose aloneand it twisted out of his hands. The thing acted like a big black snake, fellows, and hit Chief Blaney a whack in the chest that knocked himsprawling. Then it proceeded to wet down the whole fire departmentbefore some one captured it. It was a scream. Didn't any of you seeit?"

"I reached there in time to see Tom Hogan try to stop it and get aducking for his trouble, " laughed Nipper Knapp. 

"Oh, it is a shame, " continued Bruce; "I know it isn't exactly proper tocriticise, but then if they'd had a little system about it old EliOsborne's barn would still be standing. Now it's a heap of cinders. Itell you any ordinary troop of Boy Scouts has more snap than theWoodbridge Fire Department. I believe-- By Jove, fellows. I've an idea!Let's organize a fire department of our own. A motorcycle firedepartment. I was reading in a magazine only the other day how theystarted one over in England somewhere. How about it?"

"Bully--how's it done?" demanded Bud Weir, leader of the Blue Heron Patrol. 

"Corking idea; let's get busy, " exclaimed Jiminy Gordon. 

"Great! Give us the details, " shouted Romper. 

Bruce wrinkled his brow in deep thought for several moments, then hisface lighted up with a smile. 

"Look here, fellows, " he said enthusiastically, "three of us havemotorcycles we got for Christmas, and Romper here and Ray Martin of theFlying Eagles have the machines they built themselves. Then there's 'OldNanc, ' the automobile we built last Winter. She's good enough to carryhose and hatchets and a couple of fellows besides. We've the equipment. What do you say? I'm dead sure my dad will let us borrow some fireextinguishers from the mill, and he has any amount of hose and otherthings to fit up a first-class brigade. We'll get our equipment togetherand then drill like the dickens. How about it?"

"And we'll keep it a secret. Won't tell a soul until we get a chance tospring a surprise on the whole town, eh, fellows?" suggested Bud. 

"Let's spring it at the tournament and convention next month. TheChamplain Valley Firemen's Association meets here this year, you know. Perhaps we can get first prize in the tournament, added Romper Ryan. 

"Whoo-o-o-pe! Great! Let's get busy, " shouted Nipper Knapp. 

"Right-o, " said Bruce. "But first of all let's tell our plan toAssistant Scoutmaster Ford. "

To be thoroughly familiar with Quarry Troop No. 1 you must know that itwas composed of three patrols in Woodbridge, Vt. , and that its membershad created a reputation for themselves through their ability asmechanics and electricians. Woodbridge has long been noted for itselectrically operated marble quarries and its many machine shops andtextile mills, and the boys of the town, as a result of theirsurroundings, were by nature of a mechanical turn. Added to this, theWoodbridge Academy was one of the first institutions of the country toadopt a manual training course as part of its curriculum, and all thelads received an early drilling at the lathes and forges. 

Bruce Clifford, always the most self-reliant lad in town, first suggestedthat he and his fellows establish "a troop of Engineers, " and of coursehis proposal was received with enthusiasm by the Academy boys. Brucetook the plan to his father, Samuel Clifford, and to his father's friend, Hamilton Townsend, a well-known consulting engineer in Woodbridge. Mr. Townsend was delighted with the idea, and quickly consented to become theScoutmaster, while Mr. Clifford, to foster the interest of the lads alongmechanical lines, offered them the abandoned machine shop on the top ofOtter Creek Hill for their headquarters. 

This was a real find for Bruce and his friends, for the old place hadnever been dismantled. 

Mr. Clifford was a builder of electrical stone cutting and polishingmachines and for a long time he had maintained his business in the littletwo-story structure. But four years previous he had erected a fine newconcrete building just across the way, and abandoned the machine shop, intending to tear down the building and sell the old equipment for junk. 

This made ideal headquarters for a troop that desired to specialize inengineering. On the first floor were the old hand-forges, bellows, lathes, work benches, planing machines, and various other appliances. They were all out of date, to be sure, and some slightly rusty, but stillquite usable after they had been cleaned up. 

On the second floor of the building were two rooms, one of which was usedfor meetings, while the other was converted into a wire room for the looptelegraph line that the lads had built through the town. This loop wasconnected with an instrument in the bedrooms of every member of the troopand the boys could be routed out of bed at midnight, if need be, by someone calling on any of the keys. A wireless system had also been erectedon the roof of the building by the wireless enthusiasts of the troop andthe helix, spark-gap and various coils and keys were also set up in thewire room. 

Headquarters immediately became popular with every member of the troopand always some one was to be found pottering about in the machine shop, building something that he was particularly interested in. Two of theboys, during the long Winter evenings, had made more or less serviceablemotorcycles for themselves, and a half dozen of the young engineers hadeven essayed the construction of an automobile from old parts they wereable to get for "a song" at various junk shops; indeed, some serviceablematerial was found in scrap heaps about town. 

How well they succeeded, a wheezing two-cylinder motor car attested. This turn-out was dubbed "Old Nanc" by the troop, and though it went farbetter down grade than it did on the level, the boys managed to get agreat deal of fun out of it. And it was not a bad looking machine eitherwhen it finally received several generous coats of red paint and enamel. 

Luckily, Austin Ford, the engineer in charge of the hydro-electric plantof the Woodbridge Quarry Company, became interested in the "ScoutEngineers, " and through him the officials of the quarry company werepersuaded to allow the lads to use as much electric current as theyrequired without cost. The youngsters quickly built a transmission lineto the electric station, which was located a few miles north of the townon a branch of Otter Creek. 

Mr. Ford's interest in the lads increased to admiration when he saw thebusiness-like way in which they went about building the line, and he evenoffered them some practical engineering advice when they found themselvesup against knotty problems. This led to a more intimate relation withthe young Cornell graduate, and in the end the boys suggested that hebecome the Assistant Scoutmaster. This office rather pleased him, for inreality Austin Ford was little more than a big boy in the matter ofpleasure. 

He quickly became a master of scout lore and at every opportunity he wasafield with the lads or else in the shop at headquarters working out newengineering "stunts" (as he characterized them) for the Scouts toundertake. The boys never failed to talk over each new undertaking withhim, as, for instance, the troop's latest scheme, the organization of amotorcycle fire department. 

Indeed, on the very evening of the day Eli Osborn's barn was reduced toashes, Bruce, Bud, Romper and several others visited Mr. Ford andoutlined their plans. Of course the Assistant Scoutmaster approved ofsuch a very laudable Idea, but he did admonish the boys againstcriticising the present fire fighting force of Wood bridge, stating thatthough the men had their peculiarities the lads should remember that theywere volunteers, doing their work without receiving a cent of pay becausethey recognized their duty to others. 

As to the equipment of the brigade, he left that all up to the boys, telling them, however, that whenever they had any difficulty they wouldfind him ready to help them. He also suggested that they visit thehydro-electric plant and take a few tools and some old sand buckets whichthey could paint over and use as bucket brigade equipment. 

CHAPTER II

THE FIREMEN'S TOURNAMENT

The two weeks following were mighty busy ones for Quarry Troop No. 1. First of all it was necessary for Bruce and his companions to find outexactly what in the matter of equipment they had at their disposal. Thiscould only be determined by a visit to Mr. Clifford's mill and severalother places where they could borrow fire fighting apparatus and stillnot let the news of their secret organization leak out. 

Mr. Clifford, when he heard of the plan, was particularly delighted andhe personally conducted the boys through the machine shop and mill, making numerous suggestions meanwhile. First of all he found that hecould spare eleven small, two-and-one-half gallon chemical extinguishersand still leave enough equipment to comply with the fire underwriters'laws, which call for a certain number of extinguishers for each floor. 

These eleven were enough to provide two for each motorcycle in thebrigade and one for the automobile. It seemed rather unfortunate toBruce that they could only get one for "Old Nanc, " for he had had amental picture of the red automobile with a shining extinguisher oneither side of the driver's seat. Indeed, he was so keen on thisartistic arrangement that he pleaded with his father to spare anadditional tank. 

"Why, I'll tell you what you can have to balance up 'Old Nanc, '" said hisfather laughingly, when he heard Bruce's reason for wanting anotherextinguisher, "here's a light oxygen-acetylene tank equipment with a blowtorch I've been using around the mill. I'm going to get a new one oflarger capacity, and if you polish this up it will look mightybusiness-like, I tell you. 

"These torches are being adopted by the city fire departments too. Yousee they are composed of two tanks, one filled with oxygen and the otherwith acetylene gas. These gases both flow through the same opening inthe torch and unite before they strike the air. If you touch a match tothe end of the torch, _presto_, you have a thin blue flame, so hot thatit will cut through the hardest steel. The flame gives off a heat ashigh as 6, 000 degrees Fahrenheit; think of that! It literally burns itsway through the toughest metal and does the job before you can say'scat. ' The city fire departments use them to burn the hinges off irondoors and window shutters in big warehouse fires. Do you boys want it?It may come in handy, you know. "

"Want it! You bet we do, " shouted Jiminy Gordon eagerly. 

"Just the stuff, " recommended Romper Ryan, who had been inspecting theapparatus, "handy and compact. Doesn't weigh more than a hundred pounds. Two of us could handle it in fine shape. We certainly _would_ like tohave it. "

"All right, " acquiesced Mr. Clifford, "it's yours. "

The good-natured manufacturer also gave the boys a set of old fire pailsthat needed fresh coats of paint, and several lengths of old butserviceable fire hose, not to mention a number of rusty fire hatchets, crowbars and pike poles. 

"How about ladders?" said Mr. Clifford as the boys were about to depart. 

"Gee, we never thought of 'em, " said Bruce, surprised at such anomission. Then as he considered the capacity of "Old Nanc, " hecontinued: "But if we had them we wouldn't know how to carry them;we--you see, we can't afford to overload the auto or she will never beable to get started for a fire. "

"Ho, ho, that's right. She'd be a regular tortoise, " said Mr. Clifford. "But why don't you make a couple of scaling ladders? I'll have the tophooks forged for you if you'll build the ladders. They'll be light andserviceable and you can work up a mighty spectacular drill with them. "

"Great, we'll do it, " said Bruce. Then he added, "perhaps we _will_ havea real fire department after all. "

"Old Nanc" spent the busiest day of her career gathering up the loads ofextinguishers, hose and other equipment before she was laid up foralteration, and the Scouts for many days thereafter found that theirspare time was well taken up with their work at headquarters. 

From the hour that the Woodbridge Academy closed until ten o'clock in theevening they toiled like beavers. Bruce, always a capable manager, divided the patrols into working squads and assigned them to the varioustasks to be accomplished. Those who were handy with carpentering toolshe set to work making a new fire patrol body for the automobile. Thosewho excelled at the forges he assigned to the task of making brackets andmetal clamps with which to fasten the extinguishers onto the motorcycles. Some were appointed ladder makers, others were painters, and stillothers were buffers and polishers, who shined up the tarnished sides ofthe tanks and took the rust off the axes and pike heads. And when theyall became active the interior of headquarters was a veritable beehivefor busyness. 

The boys did not devote all their time to building work, however, forthey realized that to win honors at the firemen's tournament, in whichthey meant to compete, they would have to be well drilled in every branchof fire fighting. Consequently every evening, just before dusk, theentire troop assembled in the field back of headquarters. 

Scaling ladder drills, first aid work, rescue work, bucket brigadedrills, and hose coupling contests were indulged in until the lads workedwith the precision and accuracy of trained fire fighters. For the sakeof unity Bruce had been appointed fire chief, having charge of all threepatrols. The entire squad was under his command and in a very few dayshe had systematized their work to the point where there was scarcely alost motion or a false move. 

Indeed, the Scouts drilled with such vigor and enthusiasm that inside ofan hour they would be completely tired out. Then, while they wereresting, Bruce would put them through a sharp oral drill on the rudimentsof firemanship as set forth in the September number of _Boy's Life_until, to quote Jiminy Gordon, "They could say it backwards, or upsidedown, and do it blindfolded. "

Gradually after weeks of toil the fleet of fire fighting motorcyclesassumed a business-like appearance. And as for "Old Nanc" she, redolentwith the odors of fresh red paint, loomed above them all exactly like amother hen keeping a watchful eye on her brood of chicks. 

Each motorcycle was equipped with a fire extinguisher clamped on eitherside, just back of the seat. Directly in the rear of the seat was asmall red tool box in which hose-coupling wrenches and two sets ofharness were kept. This harness, devised by Mr. Ford, was made of canvasin the form of a sling to hold the extinguishers in position on a Scout'sback. In that way a boy could enter a burning building and carry anextinguisher with him, still having both hands free to operate theextinguisher hose. On top of the tool box was strapped a short coil ofhose with a small nozzle ready to be brought into action when coupled tothe nearest street hydrant. 

"Old Nanc, " besides carrying an extinguisher and the oxygen-acetyleneblow torch tank, also contained the remaining hose, an equipment of axes, pike poles and scaling ladders, and provided accommodations for threeScouts and the driver besides. 

Until a few days before the tournament the Scouts were working on theirequipment. Indeed, the very last coat of varnish was put onto "Old Nanc"the Saturday afternoon preceding the tournament day, which fell onWednesday. All that remained to be done was to deck the machine withflags and bunting and she would be ready for the parade. In truth, thatvery morning Bruce had gone on a motorcycle trip to St. Cloud City, twelve miles south of Woodbridge, to buy the necessary decorations. 

"By Jove, she looks like a real fire fighter, doesn't she?" said RomperRyan, backing off, paint brush still in hand, to survey his own handiworkon the sides of "Old Nanc. "

"For downright good looks I think our equipment has it on anythingWoodbridge ever experienced, " said Jiminy Gordon enthusiastically. 

"Well, we'll sure create some sensation, " said Bud. "This is going to bea complete surprise to everybody. Has Bruce heard from Chief Blaney yet?He sent him our entry for the tournament events last week, you know. Iwonder--Here he comes now! I heard his siren. That was a mighty quicktrip to St. Cloud. "

Bud and several others rushed to the door. Coming up the hill at topspeed was Bruce, his motorcycle fairly flying. When he caught sight ofthe group in front of the machine shop he began to wave a blue paperabove his head. 

"Hi, fellows, here's our reply from Chief Blaney, " he shouted as hejumped from his machine. "I just got it at the house. Haven't opened ityet. Come on, gather 'round and hear what he has to say. "

With eager fingers he tore off the corner of the big envelope and rippedopen the top. And as he unfolded the letter every scout pressed closerto get a glimpse of its contents. Bruce began to read aloud:

Mr. Bruce Clifford, Chief of the Scout Engineers' Fire Department. 

Dear Sir: Your entry blank and fee for the tournament events reached me. I am returning your fee herewith for, unfortunately, your company cannottake part in the tournament. In the first place your organization isonly a juvenile company, and in the second place it is not an accreditedmember of the Woodbridge Fire Department. 

The fact that you have not a charter from the town authorities will alsoprevent your little department from taking an active part in fightingfires in this village, for the Champlain Valley Volunteer Firemen'sAssociation has passed a ruling preventing any individual not wearing abadge of a recognized fire department from entering fire lines orparticipating in fire fighting work. These rules are rigidly enforced bymy department. Very truly yours, (signed) W. T. Blaney, Chief Woodbridge F. D. 

"Well, what do you think of that!" exclaimed Romper disgustedly. 

"And after all our working and planning, " said Jiminy bitterly. 

"Oh, we're only juveniles, " said Bud sarcastically, turning away to hidehis feelings. 

And as for Bruce, he could hardly believe his eyes. He re-read theletter and when he finished he slowly tore it into little scraps andtossed them to the ground. 

"Well, fellows, " he said with a grim smile, "I fancy 'Old Nanc' won'tneed the flags and bunting I ordered to-day. And I guess our little firedepartment sort of busts up before it gets started. If old Blaney issuch a stickler for regulations they'll never let us fight any fires inthis town. Tough luck, isn't it?"

Tournament day had been declared a holiday in Woodbridge. Stores andfactories were closed and the village decorated from stable to Town Hallwith colored streamers, flags and bunting. Since early morning firecompanies had been arriving in town headed by bands and drum corps untilthe place was crowded with uniformed figures from every section ofVermont. 

But in spite of all this gaiety Bruce Clifford and the Boy ScoutEngineers were dispirited. Indeed, for the past week they had been veryunhappy over the turn of affairs. They tried their hardest to brace upand be good sports, but their disappointment was greater than they hadexpected. On tournament day they wandered about with a cheerless air, watching the various companies file into the side streets to await theformation of the parade that would be conducted up Webster Avenue to thetournament grounds. 

They were not so downcast, however, as to ignore the fact that here wasan excellent opportunity to view a number of fire fighting machines ofall varieties. Indeed, they inspected the equipment of every out-of-towncompany they ran across, and in the course of the morning had becomepartly familiar with everything, from an oldfashioned gooseneck handengine to the latest type of hand-drawn chemical engine, the pride of thecompany from Middlebury. This last appliance was an excellent piece ofwork and Bruce and his friends realized that even, with her new paint andshining brass, "Old Nanc" could not compare in general appearance withthis costly equipment. 

Promptly at half-past ten the automobile in which was seated the Mayor, Fire Chief Blaney and several other dignitaries, swung into Websteravenue. This was followed by the Woodbridge band and the parade to thetournament grounds was under way. The Boy Scout Engineers reviewed theprocession from the curb, and when it had passed they hurried by way of ashort cut across the fields to the tournament grounds, reaching therejust as the Mayor's car turned in at the big gate. 

A makeshift two-story frame building had been constructed in the verycenter of the enclosure, and the village authorities had erected a dozentemporary hydrants in a half circle about the front of the building. Theplan was to conduct the contests on the level stretch of turf before thegrandstand, and as a finale set fire to the wooden structure and have areal demonstration of fire fighting. 

The procession of visiting companies made a circle of the grounds afterentering the gate while the Mayor reviewed them from his automobile. Then after the various engines and hose carts had been parked at the farend of the field the Mayor prepared formally to open the ceremonies witha speech of welcome. But he had hardly uttered two sentences when Bruce, for some unknown reason turned and looked down Webster avenue towards thetown. In the distance he saw a great cloud of black smoke mountingskyward above the roofs. He grasped Bud Weir's arm and shouted:

"Look! Quick! Afire!"

And as if to verify his words the far-off clang of the village fire bellsounded. 

Instantly the tournament grounds were in a turmoil. Every one raised acry of fire! In a twinkle the grandstand was empty, but before the crowdcould reach Webster avenue the companies had begun to leave theenclosure. With a rattle and a clang one engine after another swung intothe broad avenue. Then with the old hand equipment of the Woodbridgevamps in the van the whole aggregation hurled itself down the streettoward the village. 

CHAPTER III

BOY SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE

Bruce Clifford and the other members of Quarry Troop No. 1, waited onlyto determine the location of the column of smoke that now extended clearacross the sky, then, selecting the short cut across the field by whichthey had come, they hurried pellmell toward the scene of trouble. 

"It's down in the factories!" panted Romper as he ran. 

"Yes, I think it's Mayor Worthington's woolen mills, " shouted Bud. 

"By Jove, I guess you're right, " yelled Bruce as they turned into WillowStreet and saw smoke pouring from the windows of the big brick buildingat the far end of the street. 

It was the worst fire that Woodbridge had experienced in years. By thetime the firemen reached the scene the whole west end of the building wasenveloped in flames and a section of the slate roof had already caved in. From every window long tongues of red flames darted out like hideousserpents' tongues. Great sparks shot skyward as sections of the westwall crumbled and fell into the red hot caldron that had once been thebuilding's interior, and the heat was so intense that windows in thefactory building across the street cracked and crumbled. 

It was a fortunate thing for Woodbridge that there was a score ofvisiting fire companies in town, or else the whole south section of thevillage would have been wiped out. Chief Blaney, almost beside himselfwith anxiety, implored the visiting chiefs for their assistance. Andassist him they did. Every company got its equipment into action andlines of hose were strung in some cases nearly half a mile. There wereat least a dozen hand engines and two steamers on the banks of OtterCreek supplying lines to the fire, not to mention the hundreds of feet ofhose that were coupled to the village hydrant system in every direction. 

But all that the willing vamps could do seemed to no avail. The firedemon was rampant. He roared full cry through the long brick building, consuming everything in his path. Section after section of roof sagged, then fell with a crash and a roar into the flames, sending aloft a showerof crackling sparks. 

"Thank heavens, this was a holiday. There's no one in the building, "Bruce heard Chief Blaney cry as he hurried past in company with theforeman of a visiting company. 

But the rubber-coated fire fighter had hardly uttered the words when ashout went up from the crowd at the east end of the building, where thefirm's office was located. Men with blanched faces and trembling handswere pointing towards the big iron barred window that marked the countingroom. 

"O-o-h! It's old Uriah Watkins!" shrieked Blaney. 

Bruce looked and turned sick at the sight. There, his wrinkled old facepressing against the bars, was the aged bookkeeper of the woolen mills. One hand was extended between the iron grating in frantic appeal. Theother clutched the precious ledgers that the old man had rashly rushedinto the building to rescue. His ashen face was set with a horribleexpression, and his eyes stood out with terror. Bruce saw his lips move, but could not hear his feeble voice above the roar of the flames. 

For a moment the scout stood panic stricken. Then suddenly his lipspressed together and his face took on a determined look. In a flash heturned to Bud and gave a few brief orders. Then, elbowing their waythrough the jam and press about them, the youngsters disappeared and leftBruce there alone. 

In the meantime a score of vamps had been summoned by Chief Blaney torescue the aged bookkeeper. They attacked the heavy bars on the windowwith sledges and axes, but with no success. They tried to pry away thebricks with crowbars, but this, too, failed, and it was quite apparent toall that if Uriah Watkins was to be saved it could be accomplished onlyby the slow and laborious task of sawing through the bars. Could this bedone? Had they the time to accomplish the task? Already a nearbysection of the roof had caved in! How long would it be before the flamesreached the office and burned the old man alive?

At this point the figure of a boy in Scout uniform broke through the firelines and rushed up to the side of Chief Blaney. Standing at attention, Bruce saluted in regulation Boy Scout fashion and asked briefly:

"Chief, can the Boy Scout Engineers take a hand in this? I'll have thebars cut in two minutes. "

"You will what--! Why--!"

"Yes, yes, we can do it; I've sent for our fire department--here comethe Scouts now!"

The shriek of sirens was heard above the din about the factory buildingand the great crowd beheld seven motorcycles tearing down the hill at topspeed. And just behind them bowled "Old Nanc" at her best. 

"Have I your permission to take a hand?" demanded Bruce. 

"Yes! yes! for goodness' sake do anything you can to free him!" cried thechief. 

The line of motorcycles stopped and hose lines were quickly strung. Butthe red automobile rumbled on, to come to a halt within ten yards of thebuilding. Already two scouts were unlimbering the oxyhydrogen tanks andblow pipe equipment. Bruce rushed forward to aid them, while ChiefBlaney looked on quite puzzled for the moment. 

Working fast, but with the utmost coolness, Bruce donned a pair ofasbestos gloves that came with the equipment and attached the blow pipe. Romper turned on the gases, while the young leader produced a match andignited the torch. Instantly a tiny blue flame shot out that hissed andsputtered in a threatening manner. 

As he advanced toward the window Bruce saw that the old bookkeeper haddisappeared. He knew from this that there was no time to be lost, forthe man had probably fainted and would soon be overcome with smoke. Hastily he shot the blue flame at the base of the first bar. There was ahiss and a shower of sparks as the flame met the cold metal. Brucepressed the blow pipe closer, while he watched with anxious eye theprogress of the flame. 

The bar grew red, then gold, then white. The heat was terrific. The barbegan to melt, slowly first, then faster, until the blue flame atecompletely through. Another was attacked, and still another, until thescout had cut a hole in the iron grating large enough for a man to passthrough. 

Shouting to Romper to turn off the gas, he dropped the blow pipe, andplunging a handkerchief in a fire pail that stood near by, he tied thecloth over his nose and mouth. Then he hoisted himself through thewindow and disappeared. 

Inside the smoke was thick and black, but Bruce could see flames dartthrough at the far end of the room, and he knew that in a few momentsmore the place would be seething. 

He groped vainly about for the old bookkeeper. Where was he? He haddropped under the window a moment ago. Had he tried to crawl to thedoor? What had happened?

The smoke was so thick that even the moist handkerchief was of no avail. Bruce began to strangle. Then suddenly he remembered the instructions inhis Handbook. The air was purest near the floor!

He dropped to his hands and knees, and with his face to the boards hebegan to crawl about, blindly groping for the body of the old bookkeeper. His fingers clutched something. He drew the object toward him andpeered at it through the smoke. It was Uriah Watkins doubled in a ball, though unconscious and almost suffocated, the faithful old man stillclasped his precious ledgers. 

Bruce knew that unless the man reached the open air immediately he wouldperish. Also he knew that if they were not both clear of the building ina few minutes they would be food for the flames which were even thenthrusting spiteful tongues under the door at the other end of the room. 

Here again the instructions of the Handbook stood the scout in goodstead. He knew that it would be next to suicide to stand up and try tocarry the prostrated form to the window. The smoke was so thick evendown there near the floor that he was gasping and choking. 

He twisted his hand into the old man's collar and began to crawl, face tothe floor, back toward the gray space that marked the window through thesmoke, hauling Uriah after him. Foot by foot he dragged his burden. Inspite of the handkerchief the smoke was getting into his lungs. Hischest pained him dreadfully. Oh, what wouldn't he give for a single breathof pure, fresh air! The eight or ten feet to the side wall seemed likeeight or ten miles. Would he never reach there!

Finally his hand struck the wall and he stood erect. The draught causedby the open window was drawing thick smoke out of the building into theair. Bruce knew he could not stand in that current of gases long. Pulling Uriah Watkins forward, he raised the limp form and forced itthrough the window ahead of him. Willing hands seized the old bookkeeperand lifted him to safety. 

Then, dizzy and sick, Bruce clutched at the ledge and scrambled up. Buta dreadful nausea seized him as he knelt on the window sill. His headwhirled. He lost his balance. He knew he was falling backward into theburning building, but he was powerless to save himself. He gave astifled cry of terror, and in answer the loud voice of Chief Blaneyboomed in his ear and strong arms encircled his waist. Then everythinggrew black. 

The Boy Scout Engineers never forgot the shout that went up when ChiefBlaney carried the unconscious form of Bruce to safety. They were mightyproud of their leader. But they were prouder still when, a week later, Bruce was summoned into the presence of Mayor Worthington and ChiefBlaney and presented with a parchment charter which officially informedhim that the fire company of Quarry Troop had been officially made amember of the Woodbridge Fire Department, to be known thereafter asChemical Company No. 1, with Brewster W. Clifford as the Chief. 

CHAPTER IV

WHEN THE CIRCUS CAME TO TOWN

Twelve Scouts, nearly half of Quarry Troop No. 1, now popularly known asthe Boy Scout Engineers, were gathered in the meeting room atheadquarters. In fact, they had been literally driven there when theWoodbridge Academy let out at halt past two on Friday afternoon. Yousee, it was raining so hard that there was no other place to go. But, then, the old machine shop was the best place in the world for the boys, rain or shine, so _that_ didn't make much difference. What really didmatter was the monotony of it all. For five days now the region roundabout Woodbridge had been literally deluged with a spring downpour. Otter Creek had swollen to twice its normal size, springs were gushingfrom most unheard-of places and rivulets were racing down hillsides thatusually were, to quote Nipper Knapp, "dry as a smoked herring. "

"By George, I do wish this rain would let up. What we want is a chanceto get out of doors a bit. I haven't stretched my legs in a week, " saidRomper Ryan glumly, as he gazed out of the big front window. 

"Well, " said fat Babe Wilson with his usual sarcasm, "if it don't dry upsoon the whole blamed world is liable to shrink. " Then, as an afterthought, he added, "That might bring St. Cloud City so near Woodbridgethat we could at least see the circus parade. "

"Aw-w, what'er you bringing up that circus subject for again, " saidJiminy Gordon, who didn't like to be reminded of the pleasure he haddecided to forego. 

"Yes, " chorused two others who were equally reluctant about facing thesacrifice they had voted themselves; "forget about that bloomingcircus. "

"Say, you fellows needn't hop on me just because I want to have a littlefun with you, " protested Babe. "I'm as good a sport as any of you. Don't you suppose I agreed when you voted not to go to the circus. Iknow it would be foolish to spend most of the thirty dollars in thetroop's treasury for a day's outing. You needn't talk, Jiminy Gordon;you were the first one to suggest the idea last week when you saw the manposting the bills. "

"Yes, I know I was, " said Jiminy, somewhat embarrassed, "but I said itwithout thinking. When we got to discussing it last night I saw howridiculous it was. By Jiminy, I'd rather see the money go toward a newcamping outfit, or the lumber for the troop's power boat. I wouldn'tspend that thirty dollars to see three circuses, I wouldn't. "

Judging from the conversation, the circus question referred to had died ahard death. To tell the truth, its demise had really been quite painfulso far as most of the boys were concerned, for all of them had ratherliked the idea of being able to enjoy "the World's Mightiest, MostMagnificent Combination of Clever Animals and Human Skill and Daring, "etc. , which was booked to show in St. Cloud City a few days hence. 

For a week the temptation to spend the troop's thirty dollars had hauntedthe lads day and night, until finally with a great effort they had laidthe ghost by a unanimous vote that the money must not be spent on theprofitless amusement. It really was a sacrifice, for every Scout had sethis heart on a hike to St. Cloud and a day crowded full of gaiety andglitter, not to mention a stomach crowded fuller with peanuts, popcornand lemonade. 

"Fellows, I am just as much disappointed as the rest, " said BruceClifford, leader of the Owl patrol, "but I think we decided wisely lastnight. We can all do without going to the circus, even if it is thebiggest one that has visited this neck of the woods in years. Thepossibility of a new set of tents or the lumber for a motorboat appealsto me more than blowing the money in on a show; that is, it does when Istop and think soberly about it. "

"Right-o!" said Romper. 

"That's what I call common sense, " asserted Nipper Knapp. 

"Just the way we all should look at it, " insisted Bud Weir, leader of theBlue Heron patrol. "And if we were to--sh! Listen, fellows! Someone's calling!" In an instant everybody was silent. 

Bruce inclined his head toward the wire room at the other end of thebuilding where the headquarters' telegraph key and the instrumentsconnected with the wireless aerials on the roof were located. Out of thedoorway seemed to tumble a confusion of dots and dashes quiteunintelligible to any one not familiar with the Morse International Code. 

.... -. -, .... -. -, .. -. -.. -. -.. -.. --. 

"Headquarters, Ford calling, " read Bruce. "Fellows, Mr. Ford is tryingto raise us. Wonder what he wants!"

He hurried into the wire room with the rest at his heels, and taking thelow operator's chair opened the key and answered the call. Then heclosed it again and waited. The boys were all attention, for most ofthem were second-class scouts and could "read" Morse well. 

"Mayor--Worthington--just--'phoned--me, " clicked the instrument. "Wants--to--see--Scouts--at--Town--Hall--at--four--I--would--like--to--have--you--go. -- Ford--Asst--S'ct--M's't'r--3:10--p--m. "

"All--right--Shall--we--wear--uniforms--Bruce--L'd'r--Owl--P't'r'l--3:12--p--m, " Bruce flashed back over the wire. 

"Yes--careful--don't--get--too--wet--G'd--by--Ford--3:14--p--m, " camethe answer. 

"Cracky! Something interesting! Wonder what's up!" said Bruceexcitedly, as he began calling on the loop telegraph wire that wasconnected to an instrument in every Scout's home. 

The three patrols of Quarry Troop stood at attention in the broadcorridor of the Woodbridge Town Hall, awaiting the coming of MayorWorthington. Their campaign hats were water-soaked, and rain drippedfrom the edge of their slickers and gathered in little pools about theirfeet. They must have been uncomfortable. But if they were, they gaveno signs of it. All their attention was riveted on the doors that ledthe way into the Mayor's private office. 

Presently these doors swung open, and the tall, broad-shouldered figureof the town's chief executive strode forth, followed by his secretary andTimothy Cockran, the Commissioner of Streets and Highways. Every backstiffened and every hand went up in salute as these men advanced and tooktheir position in front of Bruce, the recognized spokesman of the troop. The Mayor acknowledged the salute in quite the proper manner, as did theothers; then, clearing his throat, he spoke. 

"Scouts, I have asked you here because you can be of service toWoodbridge. The town needs you. Are you willing to do a good turn forthe welfare of us all?"

"We're ready for anything, sir. We try to do a good turn daily, rain orshine, " said Bruce, once more saluting. 

And his answer was echoed by the score or more of brown-clad youthsranged in line beside him. 

"Thank you, Scouts, " said Mr. Worthington, crisply. "Now to business. The rains of the last few days have raised havoc in this end of ChamplainValley. So much water has fallen that the high roads leading north andsouth on either side of the valley have been made dangerous by wash outsand landslides. In several places the banks have slipped down fromabove, but the most dangerous sections are those where the roads havebeen washed away almost entirely. Vehicles traveling at night are veryapt to have serious upsets and the life and limb of the occupants areendangered, in spite of the fact that we have marked the washouts withred lanterns hung on short posts. 

"What I would like to have you boys do is to organize a road patrol tokeep a careful watch over these red lamps and see that they are alllighted between the hours of nightfall and midnight at least. Aftertwelve o'clock there is hardly enough traffic to make the patrollingworth while. The first patrol can light the lamps at a given hour andthereafter at certain intervals Scout patrols can visit each lamp and seethat it is in good working order. How would you like the job, boys?"

"Fine!" shouted some. 

"Just the kind of work we like, " cried others. 

"All right, " said the Mayor, shortly. "Scouts, you are hereby appointedGuardians of the High ways by order of the Mayor and the Commissioner ofStreets and Highways. Each morning at half past eight one of your numberwill be expected to make a report at the Town Hall of the night's work. "

"The Commissioner here has a map of these thoroughfares showing eachwashout and just where each lamp is located. You can organize yourpatrols this afternoon and start to-night. I think the storm will besomewhat abated by that time. It is letting up a little now. Good-dayand good luck. "

Though the rain had decreased considerably the Scouts lost little time ingetting from the Town Hall to Scout headquarters, where the details oforganizing the road patrols were worked out. It required the rest of theafternoon to do this, and the dinner hour arrived almost before the boyswere aware of the time. 

"Say, fellows, this is going to be fine, " said Bud Weir. Then, glancingout of the window, he exclaimed: "By Jove, the storm's nearly over; theclouds are breaking out there beyond the mountains. This will be a finenight for--Cracky, fellows, I almost forgot; the circus comes throughtown to-night. It will come down the valley from Collinsville and takethe north road to St. Cloud. "

"By George, you're right, " exclaimed Bruce. "Say, fellows, that makesour work doubly important. These heavy circus vans may get into troubleif all the lamps aren't in good order. You fellows be sure and reportfor duty, will you?"

"Don't worry; there'll be enough of us to patrol to-night. I guess we'reall going to stay up and see the circus go through town, if it isn'training, aren't we, fellows?" asked Bud. And from the chorus ofaffirmatives it was evident that few of the troop would be abed when the"World's Mightiest, Most Magnificent Combination of Clever Animals andHuman Skill and Daring" rumbled through town. 

By seven o'clock the rain had stopped entirely and, when thelamp-lighting patrols started out in the gloaming, the storm clouds werefast disappearing in the southwest, their edges splashed with the goldand vermilion fire of the setting sun. 

Indeed, by the time the second patrol had reported back at headquartersand the third group of night watchers had started out, a big yellow moonhad appeared and the stars were twinkling merrily up above. 

After the last patrol had been gone an hour the Scouts who, when theirduties were finished, had gathered in headquarters, moved on to the topof Otter Creek hill. They had decided that this would be the best placeto watch the coming of the circus cavalcade. 

The valley presented a queer appearance at that hour. Here and therewere red lights standing out against the darkness, while from variouspoints along the highway came the glow of tiny battery lamps as theScouts signaled to each other. 

"They look like a lot of fireflies, " said Bruce, after he had watched theseries of dots and dashes that the boys were flashing back and forth. 

"Yes, " said Bud, "just like mighty big fli--. Hi, fellows, here comes thecircus! See 'em--that string of lights coming down Willow Street--hearthat rumble of the wagons?"

"Sure enough!" exclaimed Bruce, who was as enthusiastic as the rest. 

Up the long hill, in view of the group of wide-eyed and thoroughlyinterested boys, came the phantom-like caravan. A string of swinginglanterns fastened to the center pole of each wagon marked its course. 

First in line were the grumbling and rumbling red and blue animal vans, followed by two rattling canvas wagons. Then a troop of little black andwhite ponies appeared hitched in fours to light gilt and red vehiclesthat held all sorts of odds and ends. In the rear of the ponies followedthe camels; great, long-legged creatures that grunted at every stride asif they were indignant at being kept up so late. Gaudy band wagons, thecook's outfit and a heterogeneous assortment of vehicles came next, allof them moving slowly up the hill while the drivers dozed in their seats. 

"Say, isn't it great?" cried Romper Ryan as he took in every littledetail. 

"You bet it is!" returned Babe Wilson, breathlessly. "I wonder where theelephants are. Oh, here they come!"

The clank of chains could be heard above the grumble of the wagons, and amoment later five huge elephants appeared out of the darkness. Theylumbered along sleepily, their massive heads and long trunks swaying fromside to side at every stride. The forelegs of each beast were chainedtogether with stout links of iron, but there was little need of fetters, for the animals were apparently so docile that the idea of running awayseemed farthest from their minds. The leader of the drove was, ofcourse, the largest and apparently the meekest, for as he scuffled by theScouts the boys saw that he walked with his tiny eyes closed exactly asif he were asleep. 

A string of a dozen red vans followed the elephants, and at the very rearof the line was the big steam calliope. It was muffled and silent now, out its driver was snoring lustily as if to keep its reputation. 

"Gee, but that was worth staying up to see, " said Ray Martin, the firstto find his tongue, after the cavalcade had passed on down the valley. 

"You bet it was, " said Bruce. "Jove, I'm almost sorry we decided--Say!Look! Something has happened! See the lights down there by the oldquarry hole? The circus has stopped! Look, there are some signals!It's the patrol! Can you read them?"

"'We--need--help. Elephant--in--in--'What the dickens is he talking about? I couldn't get that last, couldyou, Bruce?" asked Bud Weir. 

"Yes; he said that an elephant is in the quarry hole. By George, one ofthose big beasts has fallen down into Tollen's old quarry. There was awashout down there. Come on, fellows!" And the Scouts started at topspeed down the North Valley road toward the scene of trouble. 

CHAPTER V

A SCOUT IS RESOURCEFUL

Bedlam reigned at the quarry hole. A score of frantic circus men wereshouting orders at each other, lanterns were bobbing about among thewagons, and every one was beside himself with excitement. One littlegray-haired man seemed almost distraught over the situation. He wasstorming up and down the road, alternately roaring commands anddelivering tirades against everything in general. It was quite evidentthat he was the manager of the outfit. 

"Now we're in a fine mess, " he thundered as he strode to the edge of thequarry and peered down into the darkness. "It's so dogon dark down therewe can't even see th' brute. How'll we ever get him out? That's what Iwant to know. Hang the man who's responsible for this mess! Gol-dingt'--_wush_--_phew_. "

His soliloquy on the brink of the quarry hole ended abruptly when with asnort the elephant shot a trunk full of water out of the darkness, bowling the little man over and drenching every thing and everybody. 

"Kill t' beast! Kill him, Gol--ding his hide!" screamed the drippingmanager as he picked himself up out of the mud. But he was such acomical figure that every one shouted with laughter. 

To Bruce and the Scouts the whole situation was extremely humorous. Evidently the lead elephant had wandered into the washout and lost hisfooting. The next thing he knew he had slid with a big splash into thequarry hole. And then, having a fondness for water and seeing no way toclimb up the twenty-foot wall of rocks, he had decided to stay there andhave a thoroughly good time. 

But Bruce realized that they could not indulge their humor long, for asguardians of the road it was their duty to give all the assistance theycould. Hastily the patrol leader made an inspection of the pit by thelight of his pocket flash. He remembered a derrick on one side of thecut. And he hastened to look that over, for already he was beginning toform plans for getting the beast out of trouble. 

He noted with satisfaction that the derrick had been only partlydismantled and that the rusty steel cable was coiled up in a pile besidethe heavy upright. Then he returned to the roadside and approached theagitated little manager. 

"We are the Guardians of the Highways for Woodbridge, sir, " he said, "andwe would--"

"You are the WHAT!" roared the manager. 

"The Guardians of the Highways and--"

"Well, why in tarnation didn't yuh guard 'em then? I--I--I--"

Bruce interrupted the sputtering manager by pointing to the red light. 

"There's our light. We did our part. It must have been your fault. Butno matter; we'll help you get the animal out of the quarry if you'll letus. 

"How'll yuh do it? Haven't got a thing in my outfit t' pull him outwith. "

"Oh, we'll do it all right, " said Bruce. Then briefly he outlined hisplan to the skeptical circus manager. And when he had finished talkingthe old man looked at him in amazement. 

"Can you do all that?" he demanded. 

"Sure we can, " said Bruce. "We're the Boy Scout Engineers. Just loan mesome of your canvas men who know how to rig a block and tackle and we'llhave the elephant on his way to St. Cloud by daylight at the latest. "

"All right, I'll go you, " said the manager. 

Bruce gathered about him all the Scouts not doing patrol duty. 

"Fellows, " he said, "we can get the elephant out of the hole all right, but it will mean some hard work. I want you, Romper, to go back toWoodbridge and tell the parents of every fellow here that we have seriouswork to do. Tell them not to worry if we don't get back until late. Then I want the Owl Patrol to go to headquarters and get all the No. 10wire we have on hand, load it on a couple of wheelbarrows and startstringing a line from our switchboard in the machine shop down to thequarry hole here. 

"String it along the fences and where you have to cross Druery road putit overhead from tree to tree. Remember, no monkeying with the telegraphor telephone poles! We can be arrested for anything like that. Romper, you can stop in and ask Mr. Ford if he won't go up to Headquarters andconnect up the new line. I don't think we should fuss with theswitchboard at night. 

"Now, I want the Blue Herons to go to headquarters and disconnect the bigfive-horsepower motor on the lathe. Load it aboard 'Old Nanc' and bringit down here as fast as you can. On your way turn in at Druery road andrun up to the Baldwin quarries. Ask Dave Porter, the night foremanthere, if you can borrow the largest and heaviest blasting mat he has. We'll need that. Now hurry, fellows. "

The Scouts started off immediately, and Bruce turned to the circusmanager. 

"Now, if you'll bring your canvas men along, I'll give them a good, hardjob. It's one we boys couldn't handle. Are you ready?"

"Sure!" said the manager. Then to his men, "Come on, boys!"

Bruce led the group around the quarry hole to the north side and pointedout the derrick and the coil of rusted steel cable. 

"Here's what we'll lift the elephant out with, providing the boom willhold and your men can string the heavy cable through the pulleys atnight. "

"Huh! our end of it is no trick for a bunch of canvasbacks, " said theforeman of the gang. "Get busy, boys, quick now! Some of you bring somegasoline torches so's we kin see! Move now, you fellers!"

In five minutes the circus men were working like beavers, weaving thecable through the pulleys, placing the heavy boom and getting the derrickfitted up for service. The system and speed with which the trained tentriggers went about their task was nothing short of marvelous to Bruce. He watched them almost fascinated until the little manager came up andclaimed his attention. 

"Look here you feller, I ain't sure your scheme is goin' t' work out, "said he, skeptically. "How'er we goin' t' get some light into t' hole t'see the brute? These gasoline torches can't be lowered down there. Theelephant would go wild and probably drowned hisself, an' if--"

"I'm figuring on using the headlights of Old Nanc (that's the troop'sautomobile we built last winter) for searchlights. They are powerfulenough and can be turned anywhere we need 'em. There, you can get a lookat them now. That's Old Nanc on her way here. "

Up the road sounded a siren, and the little manager turned to see twoheadlights bowling toward him. It was Old Nanc loaded down with theheavy motor, blasting mat and tools. 

"Fine, Bud; you made a fast trip. How are the wire stringers gettingalong?" shouted Bruce to the Scout who was driving the machine. 

"We passed them about a hundred and fifty yards from here. They arecoming along in fine shape. "

"Good, " said Bruce. "Now bring Old Nanc right up to the edge of thequarry hole. We want to shine her headlights down into there and seewhat it looks like below. Some of the circus men can unload the motor, and Nipper, you can show them how to set it up on the derrick platform. And while all this is going on, Babe, you take charge of making a sling. Take this blasting mat and get a couple of circus men to help you head asection of cable to each of the four corners. Fasten the ends togetheraround that rusty derrick hook attached to the end of the cable. Hurryit, will you, fellows?"

With the help of some of the "canvas-backs, " the automobile was workedoff of the road and into the field on the north side of the quarry holenear the derrick. Then it was pushed cautiously toward the edge of thepit and its wheels blocked by some big pieces of marble so that it wouldnot roll into the hole. The rays of the headlights dispelled thedarkness below immediately and there was His Highness the Elephant, almost submerged, looking up at them with his ridiculously small eyes. 

"Huh! Consarn it! I _knew_ you kids was playin' me fer a fool, " roaredthe circus manager when he looked into the cut. "How'er you're goin' tohitch anything around _that_ animal, I'd like to know?"

"We don't intend to hitch anything around him. We're going to make asling of that big blasting mat and raise him out that way. "

"Yes!" roared the furious manager, "but how in tarnation are you going toget it _under_ his belly? Think some one is going down there and divebetween his legs with your blooming old sling, do yuh? That animal isnearly all under water, remember. "

To tell the truth, that question _had_ been bothering Bruce from thefirst. He had hoped that the water was only two or three feet deep. Butthere was at least ten feet of drainage in the quarry hole! He stoodbeside Old Nanc and bit his lips in his embarrassment. Luck seemedagainst him. Was everything going to fall through at the last moment?

He did not answer the irate manager, but began to turn one of theheadlights slowly so its rays illuminated the west wall of the hole. Then suddenly the light paused, and a smile crept over the boy's face. The white beams had revealed to him a shelf of marble two feet above thewater-line and at least ten feet across, skirting the lower edge of thewest wall. He saw defeat turned into victory!

"Will that elephant mind his trainer?" Bruce demanded of the manager. 

"Huh! Will he? Well, you'd better guess he will!" stormed the man. 

"Then everything is simple. You lower the trainer in a bo'son's chairover the west wall there and down to that ledge of marble. He can coaxthe animal out of the water and up on the rocks, and after that we cansend a couple more men down with the sling and they can do the rest. Seethe plan?"

"Well, I'll be hanged! You win, young feller, " said the manager, smilingfor the first time since the accident. 

At this point the lads of the Owl Patrol reached the quarry holetrundling several empty wheelbarrows. Jiminy Gordon was carrying theremains of the last roll of wire. 

"Here we are, Bruce, ready to connect up, but you'd better believebuilding a line at night is no easy job, by Jiminy. "

"Guess it isn't, " said Bruce in a businesslike tone. "Is Mr. Ford atheadquarters?"

"Yes, he's waiting to turn on the current whenever he gets your signal. "

"Great!" said Bruce. "I was a little worried about that. There isn'tany real danger, but you might have made a ground or a short circuit andupset everything. " Then turning to Nipper Knapp, he shouted, "How aboutthe motor, Nipper?"

"Set and ready for connections, " shouted the Scout. 

"Right-o! Then we'll have Mr. Elephant out of the hole in a jiffy, "shouted Bruce, as he seized the two ends of the wires and began to bendthem about the terminals of the motor. He worked with speed and accuracyand the little circus manager could not help commenting on his skill asan electrician. 

"Hum! I guess you lads know what you're doin', all right, " he said. 

"Well, we hope our efforts are successful, " said Bruce. Then he added, "It's time you sent your trainer down there on the ledge to get theelephant out of the water. "

"Don't worry, son; we ain't losin' no time on our end of this game. He'sdown there now an'--. "

Shouts of laughter from the crowd assembled around the edge of the holeinterrupted the little manager. 

He and Bruce both looked up involuntarily. Then they, too, burst intouproarious laughter at the spectacle. 

The trainer had gone down onto the ledge with an armful of bread loavesto tempt the elephant out of the water. There he stood holding out aloaf invitingly while the elephant, still half submerged, held his greatmouth open and his trunk aloft expecting the man to toss the bread towardhim. But this was not the trainer's intention. 

"Come on, Toby; come on. Yuh gotta come out t' git this meal, " hecalled. 

The elephant moved a little closer and waved his trunk aloft impatientlyas if beckoning the trainer to toss the loaf. 

"Oh, no, yuh don't. Come on out, Toby; come on--Hi! Go! ding yuh, leggo!-- Hi! _Help!_ Help!"

Toby had refused to be tempted any longer. The waving trunk descendedand wrapped quickly about the trainer's leg. Then slowly the animalbegan to pull the man toward the water. The trainer was startled halfto death. He dropped the bread and began to struggle mightily, for theblack water looked cold to him even though the elephant did seem to enjoyit. He clutched at the smooth marble floor and tried to brace himself withhis unincumbered leg, shouting lustily all the time. 

"Hi! help me! Help! Kill th' beast! I don' wanna git a duckin'!I--I--got a cold in--my--" _Splash--blub--blub--blub--_

Toby's black little eyes seemed to twinkle with mischief as he gave afinal tug and plunged the trainer into the water. Then while the manfloundered about, the animal deliberately put his two front feet onto theedge of the shelf and reached out toward the pile of loaves. One by onehe picked them up and deftly slipped them into his mouth, disregardingthe shouts of the trainer. 

But once in the water the man decided that he would stay in and drive theelephant out. 

"Hi, Jerry, " he shouted. "Throw me down the pike. I'll git the blastedcritter out o' here if it takes me all night!"

Jerry tossed the short pike pole down onto the shelf and the trainerclimbed out to get it. When the elephant saw the pole he immediatelybegan to wade across the quarry hole. 

"Oh, no, yuh don't, Toby. I'll git yuh, now, " shouted the man, as heplunged back into the water and began to swim toward the beast. 

"Git outa here, yuh brute, " he thundered, when he came alongside the hugebulk. And he accentuated his command by jabbing the pike deep into thebeast's hide. As meekly as a lamb the elephant turned around, afterallowing the trainer to climb onto the top of his head, he waded towardthe shelf and climbed out of the water without the slightest sign ofrebellion. 

"There, consarn his pesky hide, he's out now, " said the little manager toBruce, who was still laughing over the comical antics of the big beast. 

"Good, " said the lad. Then, turning, he called to Babe, "Hi! how aboutthe blasting mat sling--is it finished?"

"Yes, it's ready, " shouted the fat Scout. 

"Well, then, we're all in good shape, " said the patrol leader, inspectingthe outfit. "Now for business. Ho, Jiminy, flash Mr. Ford the signal. "

Instantly Gordon bounded out of the circle of light and climbed thenearest stone pile. Then with his battery he began to flash the Morsecode toward headquarters, where Mr. Ford was waiting. The circus managertook the whole performance in with wide eyes. 

"Say, hang it all, you Scouts know a thing or two, don't yuh?"

"Yes, we know enough to be fairly helpful, " said Bruce modestly. Then, as he saw Mr. Ford flash back his O. K. , he said, "Now we'll let 'er go. "

He seized the reverse lever on the motor and threw it over. The derrickdrums squeaked a moment before settling down to a business-like grumble. Then the rusted steel cable, with the improvised blasting mat slingdangling at its end, was played out swiftly until the mass of woven ropesettled down on the ledge beside the circus men, who were hard at workputting chains about the elephant's feet and trunk so that he could notsquirm about in the sling. The adjusting of the heavy affair was no easytask, but the men worked with a will and a few moments later Bruce caughttheir signal that all was ready. 

For a moment he paused with his hand on the starting switch. He wasalmost afraid to throw it into position. "Oh, if the boom will onlyhold, " he whispered to himself, for to have his plans fail now would havebeen more than he could endure. 

He moved the switch. There was a slight arc as contact was made. Thenslowly the motor began to turn. The boom stiffened and creaked ominouslyas the cable tightened. He pushed the switch over another notch. Thebig animal was lifted off its feet!

Would the boom hold? Bruce and every member of the troop stood tense andsilent, as they saw the big body of the elephant dangling over the pit. He was lifted a foot, two feet, _five_ feet! He was snorting andsquirming in protest, and Bruce's heart almost stopped when he saw theboom give under his weight. 

"Oh, if he would only hold still!" muttered the boy. "He'll smash thetimber, sure. "

The patrol leader pushed the switch over still another notch and themotor began to hum and sputter. The beast was raised ten feet, fifteenfeet, eighteen, twenty. Now he was on the level with the top of thequarry!

Slowly the boom began to work in, creaking and snapping under the strain. Splinters were raising here and there on the timber. Bruce knew it wasonly a matter of seconds now before the great stick would be shattered. The elephant was but a few feet from safety. Canvas men were reachingout over the quarry's edge to seize the side of the sling. They grippedit! They pulled and tugged, and with a prodigious squeak the boom swungover. Then with a crash it buckled, dropping the elephant on the verybrink of the hole!

Fortunately, the timber did not part entirely or some one would have beenkilled. The lacing of steel derrick cable held it in place, andeverything was safe. 

It took the Scouts and the circus men a brief instant to realize this, and when they did a cheer went up that must have waked the villagers inWoodbridge. 

The little circus manager was delighted. He rushed up and graspedBruce's hand. 

"Fine work, young feller! Fine work, I say! Now you Scouts all git homeand tumble into bed. My men will clean things up here in fine shape. It's half-past three. Sleep 'til ten o'clock and by that time a coupleof my best vans will be at that buildin' yuh call headquarters waitin' t'take yuh t' St. Cloud. Yer goin' t' be my guests at t' circus er I'llknow the reason why. "

"Gee, that's mighty good, " said Bruce, excitedly. "How about it, fellows? We don't mind taking _that_ sort of pay for a good turn, dowe?"

"You bet we don't, " shouted the Scouts, enthusiastically. And a fewmoments later they fell in line and started off toward Woodbridge. 

CHAPTER VI

HELPING TO MAKE THE MOVIES

"Whe-e-e-o-o-o! whe-e-e-o-o-o! whe-e-e-o-o-o!" screamed the siren asBruce Clifford's motorcycle came to a halt in front of the Weir cottageon Willow Street. Then:

"Hi, Bud--bud-de-de! Hello-o-o, Bud! Come on, wake up!" shouted theleader of the Owl Patrol, cupping his hands about his mouth and directinghis voice toward an upstairs window. A moment later the window inquestion opened and Bud in his undershirt, with a towel in one hand and acake of soap in the other, appeared. 

"What're you making such a row for? I'm awake, " he shouted ratherirritably, for Bud really never became thoroughly cheerful until after hehad had his breakfast. 

"Say, Bud, the highway bridge over Muddy Brook--the one just below therailroad tracks on Lake Road; has gone down under a big motor truck fullof scenery and things belonging to the Historical Motion Picture Company, the outfit that has been taking Revolutionary War pictures over nearTiconderoga. The machine's half under water and the men need help. There's a chance for the Scouts to get busy. Are you with us?"

"You bet I am. I'll be to headquarters in three winks, " said the leaderof the Blue Heron Patrol, considerably better natured. 

"Fine! Hurry now! I'm off to headquarters to call the rest of thefellows together, " said Bruce, as he started his motorcycle and shot upthe long incline that led to the machine-shop headquarters of QuarryTroop No. 1, of Woodbridge, popularly known as the Boy Scout Engineers. 

The leader of the Owls had left home a little after daylight that morningwith fishing pole and creel strapped to his machine, for he intendedtrying the brown trout in Concord valley. But when he reached the littlehighway bridge where the Lake Road crossed a shallow brook near theRutland Railroad tracks, a situation presented itself that banished allthought of trout fishing. 

The ends of the bridge timbers had rotted away from dampness and underthe weight of a big motor truck had parted from their stone pier. Theircollapse had projected the heavy vehicle front first into the stream, sothat its hood was jammed against the abutment, while its hind wheelsstill remained on the sloping bridge floor. The chauffeur and his twoassistants stood surveying the scene in a most dejected attitude. 

Of course Bruce stopped at the stream and looked over the situation, asking innumerable questions. But the men were not in a pleasant frameof mind and gave him only disagreeable answers, which nettled the scoutto the point of exclaiming:

"Huh, if you weren't so grouchy about it, I'd like to try help you getout of the mess you are in. Maybe we could help a great deal. I'm amember of the Boy Scout Engineers, and it is just our fun to lend a handin a fix like this. "

The chauffeur looked at the lad in amazement for a moment. Then he spokein milder tones. 

"Excuse me, son. I didn't mean t' be so nasty. If you fellows will giveus a hand, we'd be mighty much obliged. I know what the scouts are. I've met 'em before. "

"Thank you for the compliment, " said Bruce. "We'll be here with blockand tackle in less than an hour. In the meantime, get your truckunloaded, " and, turning about, he raced back to town, stopping only toawaken Bud Weir before reaching headquarters. 

Entering the home of the troop, he hurried to the wire-room on the secondfloor and began calling the scouts from breakfast. The telegraph lineleading from headquarters was a big loop that extended through the townand connected with an instrument in the home of every second class scout, and all the boys could be called to headquarters in a jiffy. 

When his summons had been answered by most of the boys, Bruce hurrieddownstairs and proceeded to get "Old Nanc, " the troop's homemadeautomobile, ready for service. Into it he loaded all the manila rope hecould lay hands on, as well as blocks and pulleys, chains, crowbars, axes, sledges and everything else that might come in handy. 

By the time this work was well under way the scouts began to arrive andlend a hand. They came on motor cycle and on foot until there weretwenty-odd gathered at headquarters. And when they were all assembled, Bruce outlined briefly the situation at the Lake Road bridge and gavethem his idea of how the task should be handled. Of course, they wereall eager to undertake the work, and in a few minutes they were on theirway to the scene of trouble. 

The chauffeur and his men had done as Bruce suggested, and when the ladsarrived they found two great stacks of canvas scenery by the roadside. They gave this only a moment's inspection, however, for they had workbefore them. With as much system as a trained army corps they began tounload the coils of rope and the pulleys. Then, under Bruce's direction, several wove the cordage into a block and tackle arrangement. This done, a group headed by Romper Ryan removed shoes and stockings and began toford the shallow stream, carrying the block and tackle with them. In notime they had one of the pulleys lashed to a substantial maple tree bythe roadside. The other pulley was fastened to the back end of theautomobile truck, which was still on the sloping floor of the bridge. 

When this was completed the single strand of rope on which they were tohaul was passed back across the stream and attached to the rear axle of"Old Nanc. "

Then came the test of the boys' engineering skill. At the request ofBruce the scouts all seized the rope to assist "Old Nanc" in hauling thebig machine backward up the grade. Bud, the official driver of thetroop's automobile, climbed to his place and everything was ready. 

"Now, all together! Pull!" shouted Bruce, and at the command every scoutarched his shoulders and hauled his hardest, while "Old Nanc's" enginebegan to cough and grumble furiously. 

The tackle grew taut. The pulleys squeaked and groaned and the bridgetimbers protested in like manner as the big truck began to move. Up itcrawled, inch by inch. Now the hood was out of water! A moment laterthe rear wheels were onto the road! Slowly but surely it was lifted outof the brook until, finally, with a mighty tug, the lads backed it clearoff the bridge and safely onto the highway. 

"Fine!" shouted the chauffeur. "I knew you scouts were the bully boys. But, say, fellows, how's the machine going to get across the stream! Weare bound for Woodbridge, you know, and we're on the wrong side of thebusted bridge now. "

"Oh, maybe we can work that out some way, " said Bruce. "I guess we'lltry to make a pair of shears out of a couple of fence rails, then hitchthe block and tackle to the bridge floor and hoist it back to its properlevel again. The rest of the fellows will get all of the discardedrailroad ties they can find along the tracks over yonder and build asquare crib under the bridge. They can lay the ties on top of each otherin log cabin fashion and I guess that will hold up the bridge under yourmachine. It will make the crossing safe until the town authorities canput new bridge timber in place, too. "

"Sounds mighty sensible, " said the chauffeur. "Will it take long?"

"I don't think so. It's only half past ten now. Here comes the tenthirty Montreal Special, " said Bruce, as the Canadian flyer shot around abend in the railroad tracks, her whistle screaming her approach to theWoodbridge station. 

"Come on, then, let's get busy right away. Perhaps we can have themachine into Woodbridge by noon, " said the chauffeur. Then, to hisassistants, he called. "Hi, you fellows, git over there to the railroadtracks and pick up some o' those old ties. Go along with the scouts. They know old ones from new ones. "

All the lads, except two or three of the older boys, waded the brook andstarted out after crib building material. The others remained to helpBruce rig up the shears and put the block and tackle into place. 

Fortunately, section gangs had been working on the railroad recently, putting in new ties, and there were any number of discarded timbers alongthe embankment. These the lads appropriated, for they knew that therailroad men no longer wanted them and that sooner or later a bonfirewould be made of them. The heavy timbers were piled up on the bank ofthe brook as fast as the scouts could find them, and by the time Bruceand his helpers had hitched the block and tackle to the sagging bridgethe crib builders were ready to begin work. 

Raising the bridge floor was accomplished quickly, for the woodenstructure was nowhere near as heavy as the auto truck. Indeed, "OldNanc" managed to haul it up all alone. This accomplished, the scoutswaded into the water again, and, working in pairs, carried the railroadties to a point just under the broken structure. The first two ties wereput up and down stream and weighted with stones to keep them fromfloating away. Two more were then placed across the stream on top of thefirst set, exactly like logs in a cabin. Then, like bees, the boystraveled back and forth to the bank, carrying the heavy ties, untilfinally the crib was constructed snugly under the bridge flooring withtwo heavy cross timbers resting safely on top. 

When the tackle was finally removed and the bridge platform settled intoplace and gave every indication of being safely propped up by the crib, the scouts gave a ringing cheer, for their efforts had been successful. 

And, as if in answer to the cheer, the loud honking of a motor horn washeard and a big red motor car containing one man and the driver cametearing down the road. 

"Here comes our manager, Mr. Dickle!" exclaimed the chauffeur when he sawthe machine. 

Mr. Dickle proved to be a very businesslike and bustling individual. Hebounded from the car before it stopped, demanding at the same time toknow all the particulars of what had happened. It seems that he had seenthe stalled motor truck from the window of the ten thirty train and hadhired the first automobile he could find at the Woodbridge station andrushed to the scene of trouble. 

Briefly Bruce and the chauffeur told him all that had happened and allthat had been done. 

"Rebuilt the bridge, eh? Looks as if it would hold a steam engine now. That's bully, " exclaimed Mr. Dickle. "Now, if you fellows can tell me ofa building equipped with electricity that I can rent for a studio for acouple of days, you will have done me another great favor. We are goingto make some historical films of Ethan Allen and the Green Mountain Boys. Say, by the way, you fellows look intelligent. How would you like to bemy supes? I'll pay you fifty cents a day. How about it?"

"What's a supe?" asked Bruce and Bud together. 

"Why, a supernumerary. I want a number of people to take part in theproduction, as Green Mountain Boys or British soldiers or the mob, orroles like that, where good actors are not needed. I have a big battlescene as a climax. I'll need you in that surely. "

"In the movies, eh? Whoope-e-e-e! Fine!" exclaimed several, and themanager knew immediately that he would not have to look further foradditional members for his cast. 

"And, say, about a studio; perhaps you could use the meeting room on thetop floor of our headquarters building. We have all the electricity youwant, only there isn't much daylight for taking pictures. There are onlythree windows, and--"

"Tut, tut, never mind the daylight. We don't need it in modernphotography. We'll go up and look at the place, " said the manager. Thento the chauffeur he shouted: "Here, Jim, fasten a rope to the truck andI'll have this machine of mine tow you up to the scouts' headquarters. "

CHAPTER VII

ETHAN ALLEN COMES TO LIFE AGAIN

For the next days the troop's headquarters on Otter Hill was thestrangest place imaginable. Passers by were surprised to find groups ofreal Indians in war paint, Colonial soldiers, British troopers and GreenMountain Boys in buckskin garments walking up and down in front of thebuilding or sitting in the sun waiting for their turn to "go on" in thestudio room upstairs. These were the regular actors of the HistoricalMotion Picture Company, who had come to Woodbridge by train to take partin the Ethan Allen film which Mr. Dickle was making. 

To be sure, all this fascinated the scouts. It was a decided pleasure tobe allowed to circulate among such famous people. Ethan Allen was a big, broad-shouldered actor whose name was known from coast to coast. So wasthe individual who took the part of Captain Rember Baker, Captain Warnerand Captain Warrington. Anne Story was a girl whose face the boys hadseen on a dozen different billboards, and there were any number of otherwell-known individuals in the troupe. And there were real live Indians, too, who afforded the boys no end of interest. Altogether, the advent ofthe motion picture company was a liberal education for the lads. 

But for knowledge of the technical nature, which the boys liked best, theinterior of headquarters presented a world of opportunity. When thecompany's electricians and stage carpenters had finished with their workin the big meeting room Bruce and his chums scarcely recognized it as thesame place. Two banks of a dozen electric lights as big as street arclamps, and just as powerful, had been strung across the ceiling. These, by means of reflectors, were made to flood the far end of the room, "thestage, " with a steady white light. 

Behind the light was the camera man, grinding away steadily, takingsixteen pictures a second, while before the light were the actors playingtheir parts, now in a log cabin, now in a Colonial mansion and again in acourtroom at Albany, according to the way the scene shifters arranged theportable canvas scenery. 

Between the camera man and the actors, to the left of the stage, sat Mr. Dickle in his shirt sleeves, clutching a bundle of manuscript in one handand a megaphone in the other. Through this effective mouthpiece hedirected each of the actors. The members of the cast did their workentirely in pantomime, except when Mr. Dickle bawled a few lines at them, which they repeated so that the camera could register the action of theirlips. 

It was all so perfectly wonderful to the scouts that they stood for hourswatching the making of the film; that is, they stood still and watchedwhile the actors and photographers were at work, but the moment businesswas suspended, while scenes were changed, they began to ask questions ofevery one in sight. 

They learned that the big lights were a new type of tungsten lamp filledwith nitrogen gas which made them burn three times as bright as otherlamps. They discovered that the original photographs were onlythree-quarters of an inch long and they were magnified from thirty tofifty thousand times when they were projected onto a movie screen by themachine in the theater. They found out also that raw film cost fourcents a foot, that movie actors were paid as high as $20, 000 a year, thatthere were nearly four hundred American firms making movies, that most ofthe films of the world were made in this country, that American "movies"were being shown in China, Australia, India and all sorts of far-offcorners of the world, and that in one American city alone the "movie"theaters took in more than $40, 000 a day in admission fees. 

All this and a great deal more did the inquisitive youngsters gather, until they became veritable motion picture encyclopedias. Of course, chief among the men whom they questioned was Mr. Dickle. In fact, everytime the manager finished directing a scene, Bruce and several otherscouts pounced upon him and began plying him with questions concerningthe film industry, all of which he answered in great detail, for heappreciated the fact that they were boys who wanted to learn andunderstand. 

It was during one of these periods of catechising that he finallyexplained the big film he was making at the time. 

"This photoplay, " he said, "is to be a feature production; five reels of1, 000 feet each. I'm going to give all the details of the troubles EthanAllen and the Green Mountain Boys had with the authorities of New YorkState over the New Hampshire Grants. Of course, you boys know the story. It's history. "

"You bet we do, " said Bruce; "find a Vermont boy who hasn't read aboutthe Green Mountain Boys. "

"Well, I'm glad you are so well informed. It will help a little when youtake your parts tomorrow afternoon. I've finished the studio work on thefilm now, and all that remains are some exteriors in the vicinity of theLake. The film will wind up with a big battle between Allen and hisGreen Mountain Boys against the Sheriff of Albany, assisted by someIndians and Red Coats. "

"I want you fellows to be the original Green Mountain Scouts. Yourbuckskins are all downstairs in the trunks. They came by express thismorning. I'd expect you all to report here tomorrow at two thirty. Getinto the duds and come up to the lake. You'll find us all ready for youup there with an automobile full of flintlock rifles and things. Thestage will all be set for the big battle around the mouth of the realEthan Allen cave. How does that suit you?" It was a thrilling idea. 

"How does it suit? Wow; were there ever fellows as lucky as we are?Just think of being in a real movie film; I tell you--"

"Jiminy crickets, we'll have the time of our life, Mr. Dickle. Why, we'll do it for nothing, just for the fun of the thing, " exclaimed Gordongenerously. 

"Oh, no, you won't; you'll get fifty cents each, and, besides, I'm payingyou ten dollars a day for the use of this building. Forty dollars is dueyou so far. That should help the troop's treasury a little, eh, boys?"

"You bet it will, " said Bruce. "Only we don't like--"

"Tut, tut; that'll do. I owe you money, and I'm going to pay it. If youdon't take it I'll give it to your Assistant Scout master, Mr. Ford. Imet him yesterday, " said Mr. Dickle. Then, to the actors, he called:"Next scene, gentlemen! Ring the bell, Benny!" And Bruce and the scoutsrealized that it was time for them to leave. 

The following day Woodbridge witnessed the strangest scene in itshistory. It was that of a score of Green Mountain Scouts, in buckskinsand coon caps, traveling up the dusty road toward the Lake. Some wereastride motor cycles, a half-dozen were crowded into "Old Nanc" and therest were walking. 

An hour after leaving headquarters they reached the lake shore. EthanAllen's cave was up a very steep grade from the water and the boys couldsee as they rounded the bend in the road dozens of Red Coats and Indianswaiting for them. Bruce and the lads on the motorcycles put on highspeed and took the grade in whirlwind fashion but "Old Nanc" was notequal to the hill, so she was parked in a lot by the lakeside and therest of the troop went up to the cave on foot. 

Immediately upon their arrival activities began. Mr. Dickle formed themin line and marched them up beside the big automobile truck that stood inthe middle of the road. Here each lad was given a flintlock rifle andsent over to the mouth of the cave, where Ethan Allen and a half-dozenGreen Mountain Boys were waiting, seated about a camp fire. 

"Now, boys, " said the manager, when all had been served with guns and hadtaken their places, "those weapons of yours are only dummies. I don'twant you lads fooling with powder even in a sham battle. I won't beresponsible for your eyes. My regular actors will do all the firingnecessary, and they will make smoke enough to cover the film. All I wantyou fellows to do is aim and pull the trigger. Are you ready now, gentlemen? Camera!"

Mr. Dickle stood with his feet apart, megaphone in hand, in the middle ofthe road. The camera man had set up his tripod on the rear end of themotor truck, which was held on the very brink of the grade by its brakes. At the word "Camera" he began to turn the crank of his machine rapidly, and almost before they knew it the Boy Scout Engineers were beingphotographed as part of a real feature film. 

Action followed swiftly. While the lads were sitting about the fire anIndian came out of the woods. It was Neshobee, the friendly Red Man ofJudge Thompson's story. He advanced to Ethan Allen, his hand extendedaloft as a sign of friendship. Then he began to talk, pointing into thebushes and up toward the leaves of the trees. Instantly the GreenMountain Boys were alert!

"The Red Coats and the Sheriff!" snapped Allen, and every man wascrouching, gun in hand, waiting for the attack. A Red Coat appeared inthe bushes!

Up went a dozen muskets, and the next instant there was a thunderingroar! The Red Coat disappeared! But others came! They bobbed upeverywhere! Behind bushes and trees! From rocks and logs they sprang, advancing and firing in apparently deadly earnestness! The roar of themusketry was deafening! Bruce and his chums were thrilled withenthusiasm, and they snapped their guns at every enemy in sight! On camethe Red Coats and the Indians with the Sheriff of New York leading them!They advanced into the open, firing deliberately at the little group ofdefenders about the cave! But their fire was answered with interest, andsoldiers and Indians were stumbling and falling in all directions!

And above all the din could be heard the voice of Mr. Dickle, the stagemanager, roaring directions through his megaphone. "Great scene! Fine!Register excitement! Fall down, Murphy! Tumble over, there, Lisk;you're dead--tumble, I say. Don't be afraid of your uniform. I'll payfor that. Fall!--fall!--fall! Now, Green Mountain Boys, up and at 'em!Charge! Charge! Beat it, you Red Coats--you're licked. Run! Git! Beatit, I say! After 'em, scouts, after 'em! Fine! Great scene! All right;that'll do. Quit firing. "

The roar of the flintlocks ceased and Bruce and the rest of the scoutsstopped, thoroughly out of breath with excitement. The Red Coats andIndians stopped also, and, turning about, rejoined their erstwhileenemies. The "dead" and "wounded" stood up, too, and began to walk aboutand chat with the rest, all of which gave the scouts the impression thata "movie" battle was the only really pleasant kind of battle, after all. 

"Well, you scouts certainly filled the bill as Green Mountain Boys, " saidMr. Dickle when the boys reached the road where he was standing. "Thatwill make a great scene. Now, just as soon as Bob gets his stuff stowedaway in the truck, we'll start for town. "

Bruce noticed that the camera man was having difficulty in getting hisoutfit in the truck unassisted, so he ran on ahead of the others to helphim. 

"Here, Bruce, " said the movie operator, "you get up in the wagon and Iwill hand the things to you and you can stow them under the seat. "

The camera man handed up the box-like machine, which Bruce startedpacking under the seat. Just as the operator started back up the hill toget his tripod, in some unaccountable manner the brakes of the heavytruck loosened and the big vehicle started to roll slowly down the hill. So steep was the grade that the truck gained momentum at a terrific rate. 

Bob, the camera man, noticing what had happened, turned and ran swiftlydown the hill. But it had gained such headway that he couldn't overtakeit. 

"Hi, there!" shrieked Mr. Dickle. "Stop that trunk! Stopit! My film!It's all in the camera, and the truck's running away! Stop it, some one!Save the film!"

Bruce's first impulse was to jump from the truck and leave it to itsfate, but when he heard the manager's frantic appeal to save the preciousfilm he climbed quickly over the back of the high seat. In anotherinstant he grasped the steering wheel and jammed his foot down upon thebrake lever. 

Then bang--! the brake band snapped and the truck lurched forward again!Bruce had applied the brake too suddenly, and the next moment he foundhimself in a runaway motor truck that could not be stopped until itreached level ground. 

The patrol leader felt like he was turning cold. Before him stretched along grade, and at the end a sharp turn! If he did not make that turnthe motor truck would crash against a rock or tree and kill him, or atbest it would plunge into the Lake and then the film would be lost!Could he make the turn?

On rushed the massive truck. It had developed express train speed nowand it rocked from side to side like a ship in a gale as it tore down therough country road! Bruce clutched the big steering wheel with deathlikegrip and tried his mightiest to keep the cumbersome vehicle straight!He realized that a loose stone or a deep rut meant death to him anddestruction to the motor car! His teeth were clenched and his face waswhite! The wind had whisked away his coonskin cap. 

"Oh, if I can only make that turn! I must! I've _got_ to!" he toldhimself, as he saw the distance to the foot of the hill being eaten up bythe flying motor car. Nearer and nearer came the turn. It was a hundredyards away. Now seventy, fifty, forty! Would the truck stay on all fourwheels or would it go plunging on madly, end over end, into the lake?Could he make it? The road bent slightly now. Brace followed the curve. Now came the turn. Bruce tugged at the wheel. The big truck swerved. It was skidding! It was two wheels and ploughing up the dust in greatclouds! It was almost around! It was around! The road ahead of him wasstraight and clear!

Bruce breathed a great sigh of relief. And so did fifty individuals whohad been watching the terrible race from the top of the hill. Theycheered loud and long when the big truck shot safely around the bend andheaded up the level road toward Woodbridge. Then all of them starteddown the grade pell mell, nor did they stop until they reached the placewhere the truck had finally stalled. Then every one tried to shake theboy's hand. 

"By Jove, but for your nerve, Bruce, my boy, we'd have been minus filmand motor truck. For pure grit, I think you scouts take the prize. Iwish I could think of some way to repay you, " cried Mr. Dickle, pumpingBruce around somewhat roughly. 

"Why--er--you see--we don't want any pay for what we do, but if it can bearranged, I--I--well, we sure would like to see that 'movie. ' Can't yousend one to the Woodbridge Theater?" said Bruce. 

"Huh, send one to the Woodbridge Theater! Why, I'll bring the firstrelease of it to Woodbridge myself and show it in your headquarters. How'll that suit you fellows?"

And the enthusiastic replies of the scouts convinced the "movie" managerthat he had hit the right idea. 

CHAPTER VIII

THE PRIZE CONTEST

"Well, fellows, there's this much about it, if we are going to build areal sure enough motorboat this year we've got to get a hustle on us andearn some money. With the rent we received from the Historical MotionPicture Company and the money we secured from the circus ticket wagon wehave just $73. 75. We need $94. 00 to buy the motor alone, even with thereduction that Mr. Clifford can get for us. And added to that is theexpense of extra lumber and fittings, which will be at least thirtydollars more. Now where do we stand, I'd like to know?"

Thus did Bud Weir unburden his mind to the other boys of the QuarryTroop, sometimes called, because of their mechanical skill, the Boy ScoutEngineers. 

All spring the scouts had been planning to build a motorboat to be usedon Long Lake. They had had their summer camp on the shores of this lakefor the past two years, and they intended to have a camp there as usualthis year, but they had decided to make it a construction camp and spendmost of their time building a thirty-foot power boat, which would be thelargest vessel on the lake. The idea was to increase the troop's fund inthe treasury as much as possible during the Winter and Spring and use themoney to purchase a three horsepower gasoline motor, which theycalculated would be large enough to drive the boat faster than any craftthereabout. 

But somehow the months had hurried past and the fund had not increased ata proportionate pace. Indeed if it had not been for a windfall of fortyodd dollars from the Historical Motion Picture Company, the treasurywould have been in a very bad way. The scouts really could notunderstand it at all. They had worked hard, or at least they thoughtthey had, and they had contributed every cent they had made toward theengine fund, but somehow the balance in the Woodbridge bank looked mightysmall to the scouts. 

"What the dickens is the matter with us anyway, are we lazy?" queriedNipper Knapp, breaking the long silence that followed Bud's remark. 

"By jiminy, it looks that way to me, " said Jiminy Gordon emphatically. 

"It's procrastination that--"

"Whoops! Hi! what was that word? Ho, ho, say it again, Bruce, " shoutedRomper Ryan hilariously. 

"He's worked for months on that _Boys' Life Dictionary Contest_, " saidRay Martin, "that's what's the matter with Bruce. What does it mean?Maybe it's something to eat!"

"Aw, say, quit your joshin' me, " said Bruce, "that's a real word. Itmeans--ah--er--well--"

"Sure it does, we knew it all the time, didn't we, Romper?" said NipperKnapp. 

"That's exactly what it means, " said Bud quite soberly. 

"Well, it means that we've been putting off work. We haven't come downto brass tacks. And now we're up against it and our motorboatproposition falls through, " snapped Bruce. 

"Well, if that's what it means then you told the truth, " said Bud, resuming his indignant attitude. "We fellows haven't been on the job. Ihaven't made a cent in three weeks and neither has any one of the rest ofyou. Now be honest, have you?"

"No, we haven't, " said Dug Maston. 

"I guess we are actually growing lazy, " said Romper solemnly. 

Then Babe Wilson, the sarcastic fat scout, added:

"No, we haven't been lazy, we've just been waiting for opportunity toknock at our door--"

(_Rap--rap--rap, rap--rap--rap--rap. _)

Babe looked startled and swallowed hard. Then, his sense of humorbobbing to the surface again, he grinned. 

"That's Mr. Opportunity, " he said. 

"No, it wasn't, " said Romper, rushing to the window, "it was a blastedold bill poster tacking a sign on Headquarters-- Hi! git out o' there!This isn't an old barn!" he shouted to the bill poster. 

But that individual never heard him and kept tacking away until the billwas up. Then he went on down the road whistling merrily. 

"Hang it, Headquarters will look like a billboard soon. I'm going downto pull his blooming old sign off our wall, " said Romper, as hedisappeared through the doorway and stamped down the stairs. But a fewmoments later he seemed to have changed his mind, for he was heard toshout:

"Hi, fellows, come on down. It's worth reading anyway. " And what thescouts read when they crowded about him was:

$200 In Prizes for Brown Tail Moth Exterminators. 

The Town of Woodbridge is offering $200 in prizes to the individuals whocan advance and demonstrate a practical method of exterminating the BrownTail Moths that are infesting the trees in the township. For particularsapply to Mayor's Office, Town Hall. 

Three Prizes Offered: $100 $60 $40. 

"Say, was that opportunity, after all?" asked Babe in wide-eyed amazementwhen he read the poster. 

And every boy looked at every other boy and wondered. 

If there are any who do not believe that boys can become genuinelyinterested in study, they should have visited the Quarry Troopheadquarters a few days after the discovery of the work of the billposter. For at least three consecutive afternoons a dozen lads spenttheir time in the big meeting room on the second floor poring over drylooking pamphlets which bore the stamp of the Bureau of Entomology of theUnited States Department of Agriculture. 

They were all perusing this literature with the one purpose--to learn asmuch as they could about the habits of the brown tail moths, for theyhoped in their study to discover some new and original way to exterminatethe pest and thereby win one of the three generous prizes offered by thetown authorities. But though they pursued the subject relentlessly noneof them seemed able to generate an idea that smacked of originality. 

"Aw, say, fellows, this will never do, " said Babe Wilson. "We can'tcompete in this contest. We don't know anything about chemistry orthings like that. Why, we don't even know a Brown Tail moth when we seeone. " He disconsolately tossed away his pamphlet and shoved his handsinto his pockets. 

"Pshaw, don't give up so soon, " said Bud Weir. "This reading isn't verygay but all the same we are learning some things we should know. Andeven if we are not familiar with chemistry, we may be able to figure outa way of getting rid of them by means of some mechanical appliance. "

"I think this is mighty interesting, " said Bruce, looking up from hisleaflet. "I know now what's ailing those apple trees down back of ourbarn. The Brown Tail moths are in them. Listen to this: 'The principalinjury caused by these moths is due to the feeding habits of the larva. They attack apple, pear, plum, oak, elm and willow trees. If theinfestation is bad the caterpillars are often numerous enough to devourthe leaves as fast as the trees are able to develop them. As the websare made on the terminals the growth of the tree is frequently checked. '

"Those apple trees of ours haven't had a full grown leaf on them thisSpring and there are webs in the tops of them, too. That's the work ofBrown Tails all right. "

"The most interesting thing to me about these little codgers is the waythey got here, " said Romper Ryan. "They came from Europe about 1897, sothis book says. Came over on some young trees imported here. Therecouldn't have been more than a couple of cocoons, but look how they havespread since that time. They were first seen in Somerville, Massachusetts, but now they are all over the New England States. Theyare only just getting into Vermont, though. "

"This pamphlet says that the female moth flies a great distance, " saidJiminy Gordon, growing enthusiastic about the subject, "and that thefemale Gipsy moth, which is another kind of pest, can't fly at all. Byjiminy, I thought all moths could fly, didn't you? It also says that thefemale Brown Tail moth is attracted by strong lights and can be foundfluttering around arc lamps almost any warm--"

"Does it? Where? Where does it say they like strong light?" exclaimedNipper Knapp. 

"Why, what the dickens struck you? It says so right here. Just listen:'These moths are attracted to strong light such as electric arc lights, as they fly at night it is often possible to secure many specimens aroundarc lamps in cities and towns during the latter part of June and thefirst half of July. The--'"

"Whoop! That solves it! I got it, fellows! It's as easy as rolling offa log. We win the $100 prize sure!" exclaimed Nipper Knapp excitedly. Then while the boys were looking at him in utter amazement he continued. 

"Listen, fellows! I was running mother's electric vacuum cleaner thismorning before I started to school. I saw how easily the motor-drivenfan sucked in everything in sight. I held the nozzle near a fly on thewindow pane and _zipp--p-p_, in went Mr. Fly. I thought right away thata big vacuum cleaner would make a fine moth catcher if we could only getnear enough to the moths. And I even figured out a plan for a large onewhich wouldn't cost very much and could be made mostly of wood. But Iknew it was foolish 'cause we couldn't get near the moths. Then--"

"Great! I see your plan. You are going to attract your moths by a lightand then catch 'em with the suction cleaner, " exclaimed Bruce. 

"Sure, and here's how I'm going to do it. I'm going to take one of theautomobile's searchlights and shine it off on to some trees and then putthe vacuum cleaner just under the light beams. Then when Mr. Moth comesflying down the path of light and gets over the top of thesucker--_zing_, in he goes. Get my idea? Wait, I'll draw a plan ofthe thing for you, " and, rushing over to the writing table in the corner, Nipper began to draw hastily while the scouts all crowded around him andwatched. 

"There you are. There's the whole plan of the thing. Easy to make andeasy to operate and I guess it's original all right. "

The drawings traveled from hand to hand, each lad scrutinizing themcarefully for some fault in the mechanical detail. 

"Jiminy, I think you've struck it, " exclaimed Gordon. 

"Struck it? Why, man, he's got the first prize in his pocket right now, "insisted Romper as he looked over the plans. 

"Well, if it meets with your approval, fellows, let's get busy right nowand build our moth trap. "

"Right-o. No more procras--something-or-other, as Bruce said the otherday. We'll get busy immediately, " said Bud Weir. 

"Well, first of all I think we should talk it over with Mr. Ford. Hewill be able to see flaws in our plans where we can't, you know, " saidNipper. 

"That was exactly my idea. And, by the way, did you notice that thepamphlet from the Mayor's office named Mr. Ford among the members of thejudging committee in this contest?" said Bruce. 

"Yes, I did, " said Bud, "and for that reason I think he would like to seeus boys try for the prize even though we don't win anything. Come on, we'll go over and talk with him. "

Bud was quite right. When Mr. Ford learned that the boys had becomeinterested in the fight against the Brown Tail moth he was delighted. 

"That's the stuff, scouts. Take an interest in everything in the natureof a public improvement. If you grow up with that idea in mind you willmake useful citizens, " he said, when the boys informed him that they hadbeen studying the Brown Tail moth campaign and intended to try for one ofthe town's prizes. 

"Well, I'm afraid that it was more of a selfish motive that led us totake an interest. The troop needs one of those prizes to swell itstreasury, " said Bruce. 

"Never mind, many of the noblest works in this world resulted from theselfish desire on the part of some one who wanted to win some kind of aprize. But I won't sermonize. Let me see what you have in mind as amoth exterminator, " said the Assistant Scoutmaster. 

The electrical engineer spent nearly half an hour in silent contemplationof Nipper's drawings after the plan had been explained to him. Finally, his eyes sparkling with amusement, he laid the drawings onto his desk andremarked:

"By Jove, you fellows are about the keenest observers I've met in sometime. It all grew out of watching a vacuum cleaner, eh? Well, well, well, I think that idea is remarkable. I'm certain it will work. Youshould have it patented immediately. Make another set of drawings forme, Nipper, and I'll send them down to my patent attorney in Washington. Perhaps you may have struck it richer than you expect. You may be ableto put the device on the market. Who knows? In the meantime get busyand build one and let me see how it works. "

"We are going down and buy the material right away, " said Bruce, enthusiastically, "and father says he will have the suction fan made overin his shop. It can be built of sheet iron and won't cost much, youknow. "

"All right, go ahead. I'll come over to headquarters now and then andwatch you work, " said Mr. Ford. 

CHAPTER IX

WORKING TO WIN

Not since the days preceding the Firemen's Tournament when the motorcyclefire department was being outfitted had the scout engineers been busierthan they were the following few weeks. Every afternoon after theacademy let out, and every evening they could spare from their studieswas devoted to the construction of the moth trap. They worked with snapand vim, for upon the success of their product depended the possibilityof a troop motorboat. 

And it was well that they had this enthusiasm, for a time limit had beenset on the contest. According to the information received from theMayor's office the contest would close the last Monday in June and thefive days following would be devoted to testing the various methods andappliances entered. With the assistance of Mr. Ford the lads had alreadymade their entry, sending drawings and details of their device to thecommittee of judges. But in spite of their fast work It was apparentthat they would not complete their contrivance until the middle or latterpart of the week set for the test. 

They were determined that $100 of the $200 offered by the town should beadded to the troop's account in the Woodbridge bank, however, and whenscouts take that attitude in any matter one can rest assured of a periodof industry. They worked like beavers and the _rap, rap, rap_ ofhammers, the _buzz-z-z_ of band and jigsaws and the _hum-m_ of motorscould be heard in their workshop on the first floor of the headquartersbuilding at almost any hour. 

Of course, the boys were not entirely sure that they would win first oreven third prize, because there were any number of others competing forthe same honors. Indeed, farmers and even business men in and aroundWoodbridge were experimenting with chemical exterminators and variousother ingenious devices and all of these would have an equal chance withthe appliance invented by the boys. But the lads were sportsmen enoughto take their chances with the rest. Indeed, they even went so far as tostake some of the precious motor money on the result, for they tookfifteen dollars from the Woodbridge bank to pay for the lumber and othermaterial needed to build Nipper's big vacuum pest catcher. 

"If we don't win that prize now all our chances for a motorboat are gonefor sure, " said Babe Wilson when Bud Weir announced the withdrawal ofpart of the fund. 

"Well, that isn't the way to look at it. Just say we are going to winthe prize and then get busy and work for it, " insisted Bud, trying toinstil confidence in the stout scout. 

Day by day the neatly finished boards grew to represent Nipper's idea ofa moth exterminator. And finally, after what seemed to the boys anunusually long time, the suction fan arrived from Bruce's father's mill. It was already attached to a one-quarter horsepower electric motor, forMr. Clifford knew that none of the motors in the scouts' workshop weresmall enough to be used on a fan with six-inch blades. By this time thelads had all but finished the big wooden trumpet and it was onlynecessary to set the fan, bolt the motor into place and give the wholething a coat of paint. 

But already the last Monday of the month had passed and only a day or tworemained in which the boys could test their machine before the judges. Day and night since the beginning of the week contestants had beenclaiming the attention of the judges with their schemes forextermination. Most of these had been tried out and many were said to bevery successful. On one or two occasions the scouts had gone out to lookover these tests, but to their mind none of them looked as effective asthe moth trap they were building. 

On Thursday night Mr. Ford visited headquarters looking rather anxious, for he had heard very little from the boys during the last few days andhe was afraid they were not going to put their machine together in timeto appear before the judging committee with it. He was greatly relievedto find that the lads were about to put the motor and fan in place and herealized that this marked almost the last stage of their work. 

"Well, boys, it looks all right to me, " he said. "When are you going to be ready for the official tryout?"

"Just as soon as we can put the automobile lamp into place. We arebuilding some iron brackets for that now. We'll be all ready by tomorrowevening, I guess. That will give us one full day leeway. The tests canbe conducted up to midnight Saturday, can't they?"

"Sure, I'll see that the judges are ready for you. I have an engagementthat may keep me a little bit late, but I'll get there. Where are yougoing to test it?"

"Out on the back road here; down by the bend opposite Chipman's Hill, "said Nipper. 

"Fine, I'll be there. Say, by the way, I was talking about your ideadown town this evening and a reporter from the _Journal_ heard me. Heseemed very much interested when I told him about your work and he wantsto come up and see the machine. He'll probably be up some timeto-morrow. Perhaps I can get him up to see the test. If I canI--Listen, is that some one coming? Sure enough, perhaps it is he. Open the door, Bruce. "

Bruce swung open the big double door and Rogan, one of the reporters forthe Woodbridge _Journal_ and the local correspondent for the St. Cloud_Call_, entered. 

"Hello, boys, " he shouted good naturedly. "Heard you have a new wrinklein moth catchers. Is that the machine? Looks mighty businesslike. Isit ready to test? Well, if there isn't Mr. Ford. How are you? What doyou think of the scout's invention? How does it work? Whose idea is it. Where--?"

"Oh, goodness gracious, don't ask 'em so fast, " said Bruce. "We'llanswer them one at a time and explain the machine to you if you'll giveus a chance. "

"Sure. Excuse me. Go right ahead, " said Hogan, his inquisitive blueeyes taking in everything in the room. 

Nipper had the honor of describing his own invention, which he did withno little pride. And evidently Rogan was impressed for, after crossexamining Mr. Ford and going into the device from every angle, he wrote atwo-column story which appeared on the first page of the Journal thefollowing morning. Also he telephoned a story to the St. Cloud paperwhich the boys read the following afternoon. 

As soon as the Academy closed the next day the scouts hurried toheadquarters, for they had a great deal to do before they could carry outthe test that evening. Two or three attended to the work of removing oneof the searchlights from "Old Nanc" and putting it into place on top ofthe moth catcher, while the rest of the boys strung a temporary line ofwire from the headquarters' switchboard to a point about two hundredyards up the road. They intended to conduct the test there and throw thesearchlight into the trees on Chipman Hill across the valley. 

It was dinner time when the wires were in place and the scouts, after alast look about, all went home to get something to eat and to wait thecoming of darkness. 

They began to return to headquarters about half past seven. Bruce, Nipper Knapp, and Ray Martin were the first to arrive and, to theirsurprise, they found at least two dozen people waiting outside ofheadquarters. 

"Well, what does this meant" inquired Bruce of Nipper. 

"Well, I guess they read Rogan's story in the Journal. He said we weregoing to have a test to-night, you know. "

"Then we're going to have a gallery of spectators! Oh, well, we don'tmind, do we, boys?"

"You bet we don't--if the thing will only work, " said Nipper. 

Soon, other scouts arrived and presently an automobile rolled up to thedoor and four of the town's councilmen climbed out. The party wascomposed of Mr. Bassett, Mr. Bates, Mr. Adams and Mr. Franklin, allmembers of the Mayor's committee of judges. The lads were disappointednot to see Mr. Ford among them, but they felt confident that he wouldappear in time for the official test. 

The Councilmen looked over the moth trap with critical eyes and askedinnumerable questions. Then finally Mr. Bassett, chairman of thecommittee, spoke. 

"Well, Scouts, it surely looks like a good plan, but will it catch 'em, that's what we want to know?"

"We are not certain of that ourselves, sir, but we'll take it out andtest it. Then we'll surely know, " said Nipper. In a few moments themoth catcher had been loaded into "Old Nanc" and the scouts, judges andabout one hundred townfolk who had gathered to see the demonstration, started up Otter Creek road. By the time the boys had loaded the mothcatcher into "Old Nanc" the entire troop was there. 

Twilight had gone and the stars were coming out when "Old Nanc" arrivedat the appointed location. Every one was extremely curious and themoment the moth catcher was put on the ground men and women alike beganto inspect the contrivance closely. It was fully twenty minutes beforethe boys could connect the wires to the searchlight and the motor. Thena scout was sent post haste back to headquarters to throw the switch andlet the current into the new line. 

When this was done Nipper, who was in charge on this occasion, took hisplace beside the contrivance. Scouts with staffs were detailed to keepthe small crowd back and away from the front of the machine. 

"Are you all ready, Nipper?" said Bruce. 

"Sure, " said Nipper. Then, "say, is Mr. Ford here? I wish he was; I'dlike to have him see this. Oh, Bruce, if it will only work! I'm gettingas nervous as a cat. " He glanced toward the automobile where the fourjudges sat waiting. 

"Tut, tut, don't get fussed, " said Bruce, trying hard to conceal his ownsuppressed excitement. 

"All right, here goes, " said Nipper as he turned the lamp switch, and amoment later the motor switch. 

Instantly a long arm of light reached out across the valley and focusedon the heavy growth of elm trees on the opposite hill side. The motorbegan to hum and the fan to buzz loudly. Every one was attention. Everyeye was riveted in the long shaft of light that stretched forth into thenight. A minute they waited, two minutes, five minutes! Nothinghappened!

"Oh--this suspense is terrible, " groaned Nipper. 

"You're right, it is, " whispered Bruce. 

Every scout felt the same way. Was it a failure? Was their idea onlyvisionary, alter all? Oh, why didn't something happen to relieve thetension. Why didn't--

"Look! There's a moth, " said some one. 

"Where?" asked half a dozen breathlessly. 

"Out there! Look! Can't you see him?" said others. 

Sure enough, coming down the long pathway of light was a solitary mothwinging its fitful way toward the lamp. Now it was in the light and nowit dodged out into the darkness. But always it returned a few feetnearer to the waiting scouts. It seemed irresistibly drawn toward theauto lamp. 

"Come on, come a little closer and we'll have you, " whispered Nipperexcitedly. 

On it came toward the upturned mouth of the vacuum. It was ten feetaway, then eight, seven, six. Now it felt the air disturbance, for itbegan to flutter harder. Then--_zipp_!

It was caught in the air current and in a twinkle disappeared down theyawning month of the sucker. 

A mighty cheer went up. But they were silenced quickly when another mothappeared. But before this one had gone half way down the light shaft, two others came. Then came two more, then three or four, until they werefluttering in the white light like so many scraps of paper. And alwayswhen they reached a point over the opening of the sucker they werewhisked out of sight like a flash, to be carried into the big bag at theother end of the machine. 

The crowd began to press in closer. The men were talking loudly now andcongratulating the young engineers, and as for Nipper and his comrades, well, they were pleased, and showed it by the smiles they wore. 

But just at this moment the sound of an automobile coming from thedirection of headquarters was heard and the next instant Mr. Ford's cardashed up. 

"Hello, boys, how's she working?" he inquired and there was something inthe tone of his voice that disturbed the scouts. 

"Why, it's running in great shape. We have nearly half a bag full ofmoths now. What's the matter?" queried Nipper. 

"Well, I have some bad news for you. I'm sorry, fellows, but your littlemachine isn't as original as we thought it was. Here's a telegram Ireceived this evening from my attorneys in Washington. They say that amachine like yours was invented in Germany several years ago and patentedin this country, too. They say several stories were printed about it inGerman and American magazines at the time. That means that we can't putit on the market as we had visions of doing and--!"

"Well, well, that's too bad, " said deep-voiced Mr. Bassett, who had comeout of the automobile with the other judges to hear what Mr. Ford had tosay. "Too bad they can't get a patent on it. I thought the lads had anA-1 business proposition here and I was about to make 'em a spot cashoffer for an interest in it. Why, it's the best thing we've seen in allthe tests. No one has had anything anywhere near as good. "

"But--but--you don't mean we can't win the contest, " stammered Nippernervously, looking at Mr. Bassett. 

"Win! Win! Why, lads, you've won in a walk. Hasn't he, gentlemen? Wehaven't seen anything as good as this, have we?"

"We certainly have not, " said Mr. Adams. "Of course, the boys win. Theyget the $100 prize, but that's a mighty small amount for such ingenuity. If it wasn't for that German inventor you could have made thousands ofdollars out--"

"Pshaw, we only wanted first prize, " exclaimed Nipper Knapp. Then heshouted, "Hi, fellows, we win, and we'll have our motorboat Whoope-e-e-e!Three cheers. " And all, including the men, joined in:"Hip--hip--hoo-ray!" the noise of which didn't bother the moths in theleast as they kept on fluttering toward the light and disappearing intothe trap. 

CHAPTER X

THE BOY FROM ARIZONA

"Say, fellows, I have the idea we--"

"Jiminy!" interrupted Jiminy Gordon. "Romper's got an idea--first he everhad in his life. Come, spit it out, and if it isn't any better than therest we've been listening to, we'll maul you--won't we, fellows?"

"Bet we will, " said Bud Weir. 

"We'll duck him in the creek, " threatened Nipper Knapp. 

"Come on there, young man, let us know what's in your cranium. None ofthe rest of us has been able to get even the glimmer of an intelligentsuggestion, " said Bruce Clifford. 

"Well, here it is, " said Romper, getting to his feet. "We'll furnish aclimax to our part of the Fourth of July celebration by presentingWoodbridge with a city flag--we'll make the suggestion, get it approved bythe village council, have old Granny Mastin make it and pres--"

"Hi, hi, not so fast--you're rushing along like a train of cars--trying tododge that ducking, aren't you? Now, slower--what's this idea? What doyou mean by a city flag? Never heard of such a thing before, " said RayMartin. 

"Huh, you haven't? Well, you're a fine scout. Don't you ever read thepapers?" said Romper with disgust. 

"I've heard of it, " interrupted Bruce, "and it's a bully suggestion. Anumber of American cities have flags--a distinctive ensign, just likepatrol flags that we scouts have. New York has just adopted one, and Ican't see why Woodbridge shouldn't have a flag of her own. Romper's ideais a corker. We can suggest a flag and get the approval of theWoodbridge council. Then on the Fourth we can present it to the city andhave grand old celebration. Romper deserves a vote of thanks instead ofa ducking. "

In truth, Romper had piloted Quarry Troop out of a most trying dilemma. Here is how matters stood before he suddenly became inspired: Woodbridgehad been planning a safe and sane Fourth of July celebration, with apageant, municipal night fireworks and various other forms of a goodtime. All of which was to take place at the Firemen's Tournament Fieldon the outskirts of the town. Quarry Troop had been invited to give anexhibition. 

So far as that was concerned, the boys were ready and willing to giveexhibitions in almost any of the many branches of scouting at a moment'snotice, for they were all well trained. But the fact that the occasionwas Independence Day and that there would be hundreds of strangerswatching them made the lads eager to give an extra good performance andend with a grand flourish--something spectacular. 

Now, just what this climax was to be required deep thought, and half adozen of the older scouts of the troop had gathered under the big maplein front of their machine-shop headquarters on Otter Creek hill to ponderthe situation. They had been sprawled in various attitudes in the shadeof the old tree for more than half an hour, each one doing his utmost tothink of something original. All kinds of suggestions were advanced, butnone was worth considering until Romper finally stirred up his flag idea. 

It did not take the wide-awake youngsters long to comprehend thespectacular element in this proposition, however, and presently they weretalking away at a furious rate, planning the details. 

"Look here, why not make the order of events like this, " said Bruce. "First we'll pitch a real scout camp and then put up our wireless outfit, just as we had decided. Beforehand we'll erect a big pole and a littlepole to hold the aerial. 'Old Nanc' can carry the outfit we have on theheadquarters roof to Firemen's Field and we can borrow one of thebatteries from Dad's electric truck and take that along to furnish ourcurrent. 

"Then, after the wireless is up and working, we can wind up theperformance by presenting the town with a flag. That should make a realhit, eh, fellows? We'll get Mr. Ford to make a speech from the reviewingstand and then, after the Mayor has answered, we'll raise the flag on thebig aerial pole and salute it. How do you like that for a programme?"

"Great, " exclaimed several of the scouts. 

"Bully, " said Bud. 

"Best ever, " asserted Nipper Knapp. "But say, here we've been talkingabout giving the town a flag, now what's it to look like?"

"Jove, that's right, " said Ray Martin. "What sort of a flag is it to be?Let's make it green and purple, green to signify--ah--"

"Yes, let's add pink, canary and sky blue, " interrupted sarcastic BabeWilson, "what do you think this is going to be, a rainbow?"

"Well, I think we should talk the plan over with Mr. Ford and let himgive our suggestion to the City Councilmen. They may have some ideas asto what the Woodbridge flag should look like, " said Bruce. 

"Sure, " said Ray. 

"All right, I'll--"

"Say, fellows, " interrupted Romper in a whisper, while he watched asolitary figure coming up the road, "here comes that chap we had atheadquarters yesterday, Dick what's-his-name?"

"Sure enough, " said Bud Weir. "Say, come on fellows, let's go inside; wedon't want a 'fraid raid cat like him hanging around with us. "

"Aw, say, that isn't right, " replied Bruce in an undertone. "Don't snuba fellow like that. I think it was sort of childish for him to beafraid, but he looks like a pretty good chap, at that. "

But the lad in question evidently did not intend to "hang around. "Instead he made his way up Otter Creek hill, passed the group in front ofheadquarters with a nod and a cheerful "howdy" and continued on his way. He was a short, thickset youngster of about sixteen and he walked with apeculiar stride, for his legs were slightly bowed. 

Dick Austin was his name and he had come from his home in Arizona tospend his Summer vacation with an aunt in Woodbridge. 

Several of the scouts had met him at various places in the village sincehe had been in town, and had tried to make his acquaintance, but heseemed to keep to himself a great deal. The day before the Fourth ofJuly conference under the maple, however, two of the lads had encounteredhim on the street, and out of pure kindness of heart had invited him toaccompany them to headquarters. 

But much to their surprise Dick did not like the machine shop at all. Heobjected to the hum of motors and he jumped every time he saw the flashesfrom the wireless spark gap. He refused to try a ride on the tandem seatof one of the troop's motorcycles, and when he received a slight shockafter several of the boys had persuaded him to take hold of the handles ofa static electric machine, he became thoroughly frightened. 

"Look year, " he said with a decided southern accent, "I don't like thishear 'lectric business no how. Hit's dangerous stuff an' I'm afeard o'hit. Yo' see I ham 't been used t' hit down whar I lived an' I cain 'tfeel comfortable with a lot of machinery so close to me. No, sirree, I'drather leg it out o' here and git into t' open. "

Whereupon he left headquarters without waiting to listen to the scouts, who tried to explain that it was only high-tension electricity that wasnot at all dangerous and that there was no current of that nature atheadquarters. 

Dick's attitude had quite surprised the Quarry Scouts. How a normal boycould fail to be interested in machinery, know nothing about electricity, and actually refuse to ride on a motorcycle because the throbbing enginescared him, was more than they could understand. They quickly decidedthat he was a coward and had already lost respect for him, as was evidentfrom the caustic comments made by the group under the maple after he hadpassed. 

"Huh, " said Ray Martin, "just imagine a fellow getting fidgety over amotor; regular girl. "

"It does seem queer, " said Bruce. Then getting to his feet and brushingthe dust from his trousers he continued:

"Say, fellows, if we are going to try this flag stunt I think it's up tous to get a wiggle on. We've only two weeks to do the work in, you know. I'm going to see Mr. Ford now and talk it over with him. Who wants togo along?"

"I'll go, " said Bud Weir. 

"So'll I, " added Romper. 

"All right, come along, " replied Bruce. And five minutes later threemotorcycles were scooting out toward the hydro-electric plant where Mr. Ford, the Quarry Troop's Assistant Scoutmaster, was superintendent. 

Two days later three lads in scout uniforms were to be seen in theante-room of the Council Chamber in the Woodbridge Town Hall. Theycomposed the Flag Committee of the Quarry Troop and as they sat there inthe straight-backed chairs they looked to be the most uncomfortable trioin all the State of Vermont. 

And they were uncomfortable. You see, Bruce, Bud and Romper were waitingpatiently the decision of the Councilmen, who were convening behind theclosed doors of the room to their left. It was the occasion of theregular weekly meeting of the body, but the fact that the town fatherswere debating the adoption of a town flag made the session the mostimportant in the history of Woodbridge, so far as the three scouts wereconcerned. 

"Huh, we've been sitting here just fifteen minutes; seems like fifteenhours, " said Bruce in a husky whisper. His eyes were on the bigregulator clock that ticked away solemnly on the wall across the room. 

As for Bud and Romper, they remained silent, gazing nervously out thewindow. A little later Romper said: "Maybe they're going to turn usdown and--" He was interrupted by the opening of the swinging doors thatled to the Council Chamber. Mr. Bennet, Mayor Worthington's secretary, appeared. 

"Scouts, " he said, saluting, "the Mayor would like the pleasure of yourpresence in the Council Room. "

It required every ounce of self-control the scouts could summon to walkinto that sanctum. How they managed to travel the space from one room tothe other without stumbling over rugs or doorsills will ever be a mysteryto them. 

Presently, however, they found themselves at the lower end of the longmahogany table at which the nine officials were seated. At the head wasthe dignified Mayor, while to the right and left were ranged thecouncilmen, all of whom the boys recognized when finally they became moreaccustomed to the surroundings. 

"Scouts, " said the Mayor, and at the sound of his voice each lad saluted, "we have considered your plan to present the town of Woodbridge with aflag, and we have unanimously voted it an excellent idea. Moreover, lads, we have adopted the design and colors of the proposed emblem. "

This good news helped to dispel the scouts' nervousness. They were tooattentive now to think of being timid. 

"We have decided, " continued Mr. Worthington, "that the design shall be ablood red flag with a city seal in the center of it. It shall be redbecause that is the color that signifies strength, fire, virility, andall that is healthy and normal. And we shall follow the lead of othercities and have an official seal of the community; for the seal, we havedecided on the pine tree of Vermont in the upper portion and a quarryderrick, signifying the marble industry of Woodbridge, below. How do youlike that, boys?"

"Wonderful, " exclaimed the three lads in unison. 

"Glad to hear it. Now good luck to you and I hope our Fourth of Julycelebration is a big success, " said the town's chief, dismissing themwith a bow. 

The scouts were all smiles as they descended the broad steps of the townhall and started down the gravel path to the street, where they had lefttheir motorcycles. 

"Jove, we'll have some celebration, eh, fellows?" said Romper. 

"You bet we will, " assured Bud. 

"Yes, but we have a lot of work to do yet before everything will beready, " stated Bruce. "We'll go over to Granny Mastin's right away andfind out if she'll make the flag for us. We'll get Nipper to drawn adesign for her. Then we'll have to come back and get the silk andwhatever else she wants to do the work with. And say, fellows, we'llhave to erect our poles at Firemen's Field, do you realize that? We'llbe mighty busy for a while--hello, look who's inspecting ourmotorcycles. "

Bud and Romper looked up in time to see Dick Austin, the boy fromArizona, scrutinizing the three machines that were lined up at the curb. 

"Howdy, " he said as they came up. "I was just eyeing these herecritters. Look blamed ferocious, they do. "

"Would you like to ride on the tandem behind me?" asked Bruce. 

"Who, me?" exclaimed Dick. "No, sirree, yo' cain't git me to straddlethat there animal. Ef 'twas a hoss I'd be tickled to death, but youcain't git a snorting machine under me. "

"Huh, " said Bud, contemptuously, when Dick was out of earshot, "thatsounds like a bluff to me. Bet he's afraid of a horse, too. "

"Oh, I don't know, " said Bruce, as he started his engine, "he has thelegs of a horseman and he comes from Arizona, you know. "

"Yes, but he's a scared cat, " asserted Romper as the trip got under way. 

CHAPTER XI

THE COURAGE OF A COWARD

Woodbridge was a profusion of bunting and streamers on Independence Day. Almost every building, from the meanest little stores on Stone Street tothe big business blocks on Willow and State Streets, was gay with flagsand emblems. The thoroughfares were thronged with people, too. Summerfolk from the cities, mingled with the easily distinguished farmers whohad come to town for the celebration, and these with the residents madethe population of the town almost double its normal size. 

Soon after the dinner hour the crowd all began to move in one direction, for everybody was headed for the exhibition grounds. 

Firemen's Field was an ideal place for the celebration. It was in abroad unfenced stretch of valley bottom on the outskirts of town and agrandstand had been erected there for the Firemen's Tournament in thespring, so well remembered by the "smoke-eaters" of Quarry Troop. A deepwoods stretched along the west side of the field and Otter Creek formedthe southern boundary, while the highway to St. Cloud ran across itsnorthern extreme. There were several acres of broad green lawn in frontof the grandstand, and the only obstructions in the whole area were thetall and short poles the scouts had erected. These, however, had beenplaced so as not to interfere with the dancing and other events scheduledfor the day. 

The grandstand was filled to capacity long before the hour set for thebeginning of the ceremonies, and by the time the Mayor and various otherofficials had entered their special reviewing stand hundreds of peoplewere massed in a semicircle about the field. 

To one side of the entrance was a group of gay colored tents or marquees, about which were crowded hundreds of tiny tots, all arrayed in the gaudycarnival dress. Some were ladies of the French courts, some were garbedin Colonial costumes and some were masquerading as bears or as wolves. One group was wearing the wooden shoes and frocks of Holland, anothergroup was costumed as Russian peasants and still others were dressed torepresent German, Swedish, Danish and Irish folk. The Campfire Girlswere there, too, in a special little marquee by themselves, and to theright of their location was the Quarry Troop, every lad in full uniform, and looking very important. 

"Corking crowd, eh, Bruce?" said Nipper Knapp, who stood watching thebank of faces in the grandstand. 

"You bet it is. Say, we'll have to do our finest. Not a hitch to-day, fellows, " said Bruce. 

"Right-o, " asserted half a dozen members of the troop enthusiastically. 

Then every one became silent, for the director of the carnival had takenthe center of the field. A moment he stood there and surveyed hisperformers, then he gave the signal for the music, and presently thegrand march was under way. 

Hundreds of youngsters ranging from tiny tots who were to take part in aMother Goose scene, to the stalwart scouts themselves, formed in line andparaded around the field, passing in front of the stands. 

A very impressive scene representing the signing of the Declaration ofIndependence was the first number on the program. In this, severalacademy boys took the parts of John Hancock, John Adams and JohnDickinson, and the members of the First Congress. 

Immediately following came the folk dances, in which scores of prettygirls in costumes executed the national dances of the various foreigncountries. These little maids tripped lightly to the fantastic dancemusic of the people of the old world for fully twenty minutes and as thelast group began the final steps of a pretty Scotch fantasy Bruce stoodup and mustered the scouts in line. 

"We're next, fellows. Now do your finest. Are the tents ready and therest of the equipment in order? How's 'Old Nanc'?" he called. 

But it was needless to ask the question, for the lads had been ready forfully fifteen minutes. 

"How about the flag?" asked Bruce, as the little girls danced their wayoff the field and the band changed to a martial air. 

"All safe, " said Romper, who had been appointed custodian of the preciousbunting. 

"Fine!" said the leader of the Owl patrol. 

Bugler Benson sounded the call, "Forward, scouts, " and the brown-cladcolumn started toward the tall pole near the center of the field, whereMr. Ford, in Scoutmaster's uniform, stood waiting. They marched in scoutorder with "Old Nanc, " laden with the wireless equipment trundling slowlybehind them. 

For a moment the lads stood in line in front of the grandstand andsaluted, then at a word from Mr. Ford they broke ranks, and presently ascout camp was growing before the surprised spectators' eyes. Tents wereerected in a jiffy, scouts were scuttling here and there with campequipment, cooking utensils and firewood. Some were mixing dough, somefrying bacon, some cutting wood and some carrying pails of water. Withinten minutes a model scout camp had appeared in the center of Firemen'sField. 

But presently the spectators discovered that they were doing somethingeven more interesting than building camp. A half dozen scouts under thedirection of Bruce were unloading queer looking sections of electricalapparatus from the troop's home-made automobile. 

While this was being done, Bud Weir strapped on his climbing spurs andbegan to climb the tall pole, carrying the end of a good strong manilahalyard. This he wove through the pulley at the top and soon the scoutswere hoisting one end of the wireless aerials up to him. This wasquickly adjusted, as was the machinery on the ground, and in a fewminutes the wireless station had been assembled and Bruce was at the key, flashing crackling messages into the air. 

Applause came from the grandstand, but before the clapping died away, thelads lined up in front of the taller of the two poles again and Romperproduced a roll of shining red silk from one of the tents. With thisunder his arm he took his place before the flagpole and waited, one handupon the new halyard, which still remained in the pulley. At this signMr. Ford stood out and, removing his campaign hat, faced the spectatorsand the reviewing stand. 

"Honored Mayor, ladies and gentlemen, " he said, "the boys of Quarry TroopNo. 1 have been granted the privilege by the Town Council to presentWoodbridge with a city flag. It is our--"

The Assistant Scoutmaster paused here. In the crowd before him he sawscores of frightened faces. He saw men pointing and heard women cry outin terror. He saw children cower and scamper for the protection of thegrandstand. 

Instantly all turned and looked across the field toward the strip ofwoods that bordered it, and what they saw paralyzed them with horror. 

There on the edge of the wood that bordered the west of the field, shaking his massive head menacingly and pawing the ground, stood Ponto, the great black and white bull of the Lyman stock farm. The most savageanimal in Woodbridge had broken through his barrier and, attracted by theapplause of the people, had wandered through the woods to Firemen'sField. And the wrath that kindled in his wicked eyes as he stood andwatched the assemblage made even the bravest scout shudder. For a momentthe lads stood as if robbed of their presence of mind by the unfamiliaremergency. But the next instant they were stirred to action by the rushof some one running and a cry:

"Quick, scouts, take care of the children. Get these year kiddies out o'danger. I'll 'tend to the bull. "

This was from a stocky lad with legs slightly bowed, who pushed throughthe group of boys and laid hold of the halyard of the flagpole. In aninstant he had whipped out his jack-knife and severed the rope. Then hebegan to haul it out of the pulley overhead, meanwhile shouting for thescouts to quiet the already panic-stricken crowd and hurry the childrenout of danger. 

Bruce gave one look at the boy from Arizona and in his eyes saw somethingthat told him he was master of the situation. Then he turned to thescouts. 

"He can handle the bull, boys, " he cried; "come, work fast, get thechildren back. "

And the next instant the scouts, armed with their staffs, began to herdthe tiny tots behind the grandstand, leaving Dick Austin alone in thecenter of the field. 

The lad from Arizona was working frantically. With his knife he cut theflag from the rope and with the line thus freed began to weave a bowlineknot into one end. This he made to serve as the ring for a lariat, andpresently he had a fifteen-foot loop spread out before him on the ground. Then with his eyes on the enraged bull he coiled the rest of the ropeinto his left hand. And all the time he worked his plucky face wore agrim smile. 

As for the bull, he stood there grunting and pawing the sod furiously, his fiery eyes fastened on the lone figure. 

But it was not in Dick Austin's make-up to flee from a bull. Instead, heshouted:

"Come on, you old son-of-a-gun, " and he actually kicked the red silk flaginto the air to tantalize the animal. This was too much for the beast. When he saw the red flag flaunted at him by this puny human he let out abellow and charged. 

Dick was on his toes in an instant. With a twist of his hand he startedthe loop circling about his head, while his eyes were fastened on theenraged animal charging toward him with lowered head. 

Nearer he came! Dick could see the red in his distended nostrils; hecould see the cords and arteries in his massive neck and shouldersstanding out under his velvety skin. He could feel the ground trembleunder the pounding of his heavy feet. The next instant those short, ugly, black tipped horns might be buried into his flesh and he would betossed into the air. And if he dropped limp and helpless he would bestamped to death. The beast was twenty feet away now. His head droppedlower for the final plunge. He lunged his great body forward. 

But the boy was not there! Like a panther, Dick had leaped behind theflag-pole, but not until he had hurled the whistling loop straight at thecharging animal's feet. Then with a quick turn he snubbed the line aboutthe pole. 

The next instant the great beast's legs were jerked out from under himand with a roar of rage he turned a complete somersault and crashed to theground, every bit of his wrath jarred out of him by the stunning impact. 

In a twinkle Dick came from behind the pole and with the lariat still inhis hands rushed toward the prostrate animal. Two dexterous twists wereall he made and the hind legs of the bull were lashed as fast as thefront ones and savage Ponto was helpless. 

After the members of the Quarry Troop had viewed the municipal fireworksin front of Town Hall that night they gathered at headquarters to discussthe day's events before going home. But there was only one event to bediscussed, and that was on the lips of every individual in town. 

"By Jove, I called him a coward, " said Bud Weir. "But if there's afellow among us who has as much sand as he had--I--I---well, by cracky, there isn't any. "

"Well, " said Bruce thoughtfully. "It's this way--ah--er--I mean-- Aw, shucks, I can't express it the way I want to, but he surely didn't shirkthe duty for which he was prepared. He told me this morning thatlassoing cattle (roping he calls it) and riding horses is part of a day'swork where he comes from. "

"I don't care if he is skittish about machinery, " said Romper Ryanemphatically, "I'm going to see that Dick Austin becomes a scout beforehe leaves Woodbridge; he's the kind of a chap we need. "

CHAPTER XII

THE SCOUT LIFE GUARDS' BEACH PATROL

Bruce and two companions, Romper Ryan and Jiminy Gordon, were passing thePost Office just as Morton McCabe, the little old man who delivered mailin the southern district of Woodbridge, came down the broad stone steps. 

"How are you, Mr. McCabe?" saluted Bruce. 

"Hello, boys; fine, fine, thanks. Say, did you get your letter?" saidthe diminutive postman, Who always talked very fast and tried to crowd asmany sentences as he could into a single breath. 

"Letter?" demanded Bruce, "what letter?"

"Why, I left a letter up at headquarters for you this morning. It wasaddressed to you, care of Quarry Troop No. 1, of Woodbridge. Came fromOld Harbor Beach, Maine. Saw the postmark. Big letter. Lookedimportant. "

"Is that so? Thank you, Mr. McCabe, " said Brace. 

"Who do you know at Old Harbor Beach, Bruce?" asked Romper. 

"That's what I was wondering. I can't figure it out. The letter must bemeant for all of us, or else it wouldn't have been mailed toheadquarters. Come on, fellows, we'll see what it is. "

Ten minutes later the three lads arrived at headquarters. There was thebig blue envelope sticking under the door. Bruce picked it up and rippedit open, while his companions crowded around and looked over his shoulder. Hastily the patrol leader's eyes ran through the first paragraph. Then, as if he could not believe what he had read, he started to go over itagain. 

"Out loud, out loud. Don't be so blamed stingy, " said Romper, who waseager to hear the news it contained. 

"I--er--aw, say, this must be a joke. Gee, if it isn't, it's thebiggest piece of luck the troop has had in some time. Listen, fellows:"

Bruce Clifford, Chief of the Motor Cycle Fire Department, Woodbridge, Vt. 

My Dear Bruce: From what I have heard of your motor cycle fire departmentI have come to the conclusion that the members of your troop are exactlythe boys I need to help me this summer. I would like to hire theservices of ten scouts to take charge of a motorcycle life-saving corps Iam organizing at Old Harbor Beach. 

I own all the bathing concessions here and we have a strip of the finestbeach along the Atlantic Coast. It is fifteen miles long, just as firmas concrete. The bathing here is treacherous at times, however, andthere have been several lives lost far this summer. I do not care tohave any more such accidents and I want a good crew of life savers tohelp me. This crew will cover the beach on especially designedmotorcycles. I know you scouts are trained in first aid work and arewell fitted for these duties, and that is why I am eager to have yourservices. Of course I want only the ten best swimmers in the troop. 

It is necessary that you come to Old Harbor Beach at once, as theInternational Automobile Races will be held here next week, and thesewith several large conventions will bring thousands of people to OldHarbor from now until the end of the summer. I will pay transportationfor ten scouts and will board you and pay each of you $5. 00 a week. Ifthese terms are satisfactory, wire me at once and I will send a cheek tocover expenses. 

Very truly yours, J. Arthur Herrick, President, Old Harbor Improvement Association. 

"By Jiminy, what do you think of that?" exclaimed Gordon in amazement. 

"Jove, I can't believe it. Seems like a--well, I think some one is makingfun of us, " said Bruce. "Wait, I'll read it over again and see if I cansee a joker in it somewhere. " Once more he read it aloud, while Romperand Jiminy Gordon listened. 

"Sounds mighty good on second reading, " asserted Romper. 

"It sure does, " exclaimed Gordon enthusiastically, "and just think, fellows, if we go we can see the Internationals. Jove, I was lookingover the entry list in the paper this morning. The best automobiledrivers in the world will be there--St. Clare, Dublan, Osterhout, and--and--best of all, Dan Dacy, the American, who has been smashingall of the old records. The papers say Dacy is the favorite. He's goingto make a new record in everything from five to fifteen miles and trimthe Frenchmen and the Germans an--"

"Oh, say, quit! We're not there yet. Gee, you almost make me believeI'm really going, " said Romper. 

"But what's to prevent?" demanded Jiminy. 

"Well--well--I don't know, unless this letter is a joke. "

"We'll find out if it is or not by sending a wire immediately, " saidBruce, who had been thinking the situation over. 

"Yes, but first why not get the troop together and see if we can get tengood swimmers whose parents will let them go? We can call a meeting thisafternoon and send our telegram to-night, " said Romper. 

"Right-o; good suggestion, " said Jimmy. 

"And I really think we should submit the whole thing to Mr. Ford and gethis opinion before we take definite action. If some one is joshing us, he'll be able to see through it all right. "

But subsequent events proved conclusively that the letter was not a joke. The scouts called their meeting immediately, and after a careful studyof the troop's merit badge list, and a painful process of elimination, the ten oldest and best fitted scouts of the troop were selected tobecome members of the life-saving crew. Then Bruce, Romper and Jiminytook the letter to Mr. Ford and gave him the whole details of the case. 

Mr. Ford read the letter slowly, carefully considering every detail. Then he laid it down and removed his glasses. 

"Well, boys, if you want my opinion on the whole matter, I would say thatyou were quite the luckiest lot of chaps I've ever heard of. I spent asummer in Old Harbor Beach three years ago, and, of course, I met Mr. Herrick. He is quite the finest man I ever hope to come in contact with;big, stout and jovial, and as good-hearted as can be. If your parentswill let you, I would advise every one to accept the offer. "

"Cracky, we are in luck, fellows. I move we telegraph our acceptanceright away, " said Romper. 

"I move we turn the matter over to Mr. Ford and let him telegraph. He'sour Scoutmaster, and I'm sure Mr. Herrick would feel better about thewhole thing if he found he was dealing with a grown-up person, " saidBruce. 

"Right, " said Jiminy and Romper. 

"Well, if that's how the wind lies, I'll do it, " said Mr. Ford; "only youboys consult your parents first and tell me what they have to say. "

"Whoop-e-e, we will see the Internationals!" exclaimed Jiminy. 

"Yes, and we get a month at the seashore. When'll we start?" demandedRomper. 

"Just as soon as the money arrives. About Tuesday, I should guess, " saidBruce, as the lads left Mr. Ford's house. 

It is hardly natural for ten thoroughly healthy scouts to be confined tothe restricted limits of a day coach for four solid hours withoutbecoming extremely weary of the monotony of it all. Bruce and the restof the members of Quarry Troop No. 1 became quite restive before the longjourney to Old Harbor Beach ended. Indeed, the lads were thoroughlypleased when, after the engine whistle had emitted a prolonged shriek, the conductor poked his head in at the door and drawled--"'OldHar-b-o-r--, Old Harbor Beach! Next stop Port Junction. "

"Thank goodness we're here at last, " exclaimed Nipper Knapp, as he beganto gather his luggage together. 

"That's the best news I've heard to-day, " insisted Bud Weir, swinging hissuitcase to his shoulder and crowding out into the aisle with the rest ofthe scouts. 

A stout good-natured looking man with a little five-year-old girl in abathing suit perched on his shoulder and a big collie dog romping by hisside, was easily the most conspicuous individual on the long stationplatform. Bruce caught sight of him as he descended the steps of thecoach. 

"That's Mr. Herrick, or I'm a duffer at guessing, " he said to Romper, whowas just behind him. 

"You're not a duffer, for here he comes to welcome us, " said Ray Martin, who had overheard the remark. 

Indeed, as soon as the big man saw the group of uniformed scouts leavingthe train he hurried toward them. 

"Hello, there, boys. I'm the one you're looking for, I guess. My name'sHerrick. "

"My name is Bruce Clifford, Mr. Herrick, " said the patrol leader, extending his hand, "and these are the life-savers you have been lookingfor. "

"Good, I'll learn your names later, boys, and if I don't, I'll give younames that'll be just as good, won't I, May? Boys, this is my daughterMay. Now come along with me to my office on the pier and I'll outlinejust what my plans are. I want you to go on guard as soon as you can, for the crowd at the beach is getting larger with every train that pullsin. The Internationals start to-morrow, you know. The racing cars areall here. For a week past they have been tearing up and down the beachfrom sunrise until the bathers begin to turn out for their morning dip. Sort of tuning up for the big events. "

"Will we be able to see the races?" asked Gordon eagerly. 

"I don't see why not. They start to-morrow and will last for threedays, " replied Mr. Herrick. 

"Won't that be great, " exclaimed several as they fell in line behind Mr. Herrick and accompanied him through the resort toward the pier. 

Old Harbor Beach was like all other high-class watering places along theAtlantic Coast, only a great deal larger than the average. At least adozen tremendous hotels were located on the heights back of the beach. There were the usual number of shore restaurants and candy stores, too, and a board walk that stretched along the entire waterfront. Below thiswas a great wide beach of pure white sand as firm as a well-paved road, and fairly crowded with bathers. This beach was known throughout theworld as an automobile race course, and many a speed record had been madeon it. 

"So this is the famous Old Harbor Beach race course?" said Jiminy, as heeyed the straightaway. 

"That's what it is, son, and if you'll look away down there you'll see anumber of low green sheds. Those are the garages where the speed maniacsstore their high-powered cars. "

"Jiminy!" whispered Gordon, thoroughly awed. 

Mr. Herrick's office was in the big white building at the shore end ofthe steel recreation pier. Without any ceremony he ushered the lads intothe room and had them make themselves at home. This invitation thescouts accepted by promptly taking a seat on whatever was handiest, including window sills, tables and even the floor; Mr. Herrick sat downat his desk, while the collie curled up at his feet and his daughter tookher place on his knee. 

"Scouts, " he said, "there have been three very sad occurrences at thebeach this Summer, and while in each case the fault lay entirely with thebather, I feel very much disturbed by the accidents, and I don't want anymore to take place this year. I have called upon you boys to help meprevent them. Remember, from now on you lads are the guardians of thelives of bathers at Old Harbor Beach. " He spoke the last sentence veryimpressively. 

"Here's my plan, " he continued after a pause. "Last Winter I was out toCalifornia, and at one of the beaches I saw a motorcycle life-savingcorps that had been organized by an old-time lifesaver. It pleased me somuch that I decided to have the same sort of a patrol on my beach. Iordered two motorcycles built along the lines of the machines used there. They arrived here two days ago and are now in their garages waiting foryou. These cars are equipped with all kinds of life-saving and first-aiddevices, including a stretcher, a pulmotor, bandages and medicines of allkinds. There will be two men to a motorcycle; a driver and a man on thetandem seat, ready to spring from the wheel and plunge into the surf andmake a rescue. He should be the best swimmer of the pair, of course. 

"All along the beach I have had signal towers built, each of which willbe manned by a scout. He will keep constant vigil, and, at the firstsign of trouble in his vicinity, he will flash a warning to the nexttower. The scouts in that tower will flash the signal on until itreaches the lookout at the garage. Then the motorcycle will be off tothe scene of trouble, tearing down the beach at a mile-a-minute clip. How does that strike you?"

"Great, " exclaimed several of the scouts in unison. 

"Well, don't get the idea that it's all fun. Indeed, it's mighty seriousbusiness, I'll have you know. On your quickness to respond to an alarmand upon your bravery and cool-headedness in a crisis will depend a humanlife, perhaps several of them, " said Mr. Herrick. 

"We realize that, " said Bruce soberly. 

"I guess you'll do, all right. I've heard a great deal about you Vermontscouts and I guess you'll be able to do what I ask of you and do itright. Now, if you are ready, we'll go down to one of the garages; thereare two of them. If you will look out of the window you will see oneabout a mile down the beach there. The other is a mile to the north ofus. The distance between the two stations includes all of the beachreserved for bathers and it will give each machine about a mile topatrol. 

"The garages have just been completed. Each will contain sleepingaccommodations for five boys. You will divide your crew into twopatrols, with a leader for each patrol. One patrol will occupy the northstation and the other the south. There will be two life savers and threewatchmen to each patrol. Do you understand?"

"Indeed, we do, " said Bruce. 

"Good, " said Mr. Herrick. Then, after sending his little daughter out onto the beach to romp with her collie companion, he continued: "Come onand we'll inspect your new quarters. " And, with Mr. Herrick in the leadthe scouts filed out upon the pier and down a long iron stairway to thebeach below. 

Through crowds of bathers the lads made their way until they arrived at along, low structure built near the board walk. This was the southstation. 

Carpenters and painters were putting the finishing touches on to thebuilding, and it looked to the scouts as if they were going to have acapital home in which to spend the month of August. 

Inside the big double doors were two rooms. The rear room was equippedwith five white iron beds and several chiffoniers and wash stand, whilethe front apartment contained the life guard's motorcycle. 

"Jimmy, look at that machine, " exclaimed Gordon, who was the first one toenter the building. 

"Cracky, it's the best make on the market, too, " said Nipper Knapp, examining the maker's name plate. 

"Bet it will burn up the beach, eh, fellows?" said Romper. 

"It sure will. It's a two-cylinder tandem. It'll make fifty miles anhour, or I'm no judge, " said Bruce enthusiastically. 

"Like it, boys?" queried Mr. Herrick, who had been watching them as theyinspected the apparatus. 

"Like it! Gee, we couldn't help but like it. It's a corker. But what'sthat side car paraphernalia, that long box and the cigar-shaped tin canand the reel with wire cable on it, and all that?"

"I'll explain that to you right away, " said Mr. Herrick. "That long, flat-topped box on the side car serves several purposes. When you wantto take an unconscious person to the emergency hospital over on BeachAvenue you can use the box as a stretcher. Just put your patient on tothe top of it and while the man on the tandem seat holds him fast thedriver can rush the machine off to its destination at top speed; regularmile-a-minute ambulance service, you see. 

"Under that flat top are a lot of interesting things. The box containsseveral compartments in which are all sorts of first-aid preparations, including bandages, medicines, aromatic stimulants and the like. And, last of all, there is a pulmotor. "

"Oh, I've heard of the pulmotor and always wanted to see one in use, "said Bud. 

"Well, I'll tell you how they work, " said Mr. Herrick. "It is the latestthing in the way of first-aid appliances. It pumps oxygen into the lungsof an unconscious person automatically. Firemen and life savers all overthe world are using them now. That blue tank there contained oxygen. This machinery under the glass covering is a pump that works by thepressure of the oxygen. A little of the oxygen escapes from the tank andmoves the pump, which forces the life-giving gas into those long pipes. That muzzle at the end of the pipes is placed over the victim's mouth andnose, and in that way the oxygen enters the lungs. You boys can studythe directions for its use on the cover of the box here. When you have apulmotor around you won't have to resort to the artificial respirationdrill described in your Handbook. Try it out on each other until youknow exactly how to handle it. "

"You bet we will. We'll work out a regular rescue exercise, won't we, fellows?" said Bruce. 

"Right-o!" exclaimed half a dozen lads in unison. 

"Fine. Now, I'll explain the way a rescue is made by the California lifesavers. That reel of wire cable and the cigar-shaped float attached tothe rear end of the side car is a very important factor in rescue work. The float has a life belt attached to it, as you can see. When a rescueis to be made the motorcycle comes to a stop at the water's edge and theman on the tandem seat leaps off and seizes the float. He buckles thelife belt on to him as he plunges into the water and the man on shorereels out the cable as the rescuer swims to the person in trouble. Whenthe life saver reaches the man or woman he is after he does not have tostruggle to keep afloat, for the buoy holds him on top of the water. Ifhe has to dive for the drowning one, he merely unbuckles the life beltand when he comes to the surface the buoy is right there for him to seizehold of, or, if he chose to, he could strap it fast to the one he istrying to save. The wire cable is very light, but very strong, and whenthe buoy is made fast to any one, the man on shore hauls away and dragsthe body out, just as he would haul out a big fish. "

"Jove, but _that's_ an outfit for you, " exclaimed Romper. 

"Well, I'm glad you like it, Scouts. The outfit in the north station isidentically the same. I didn't spare any money to have your equipmentthe finest. "

"That's mighty good of you, " said Bruce. 

"Why, it's to my own interest, lads. A single life saved is worth moreto me than all the money I've put into this scheme. Now it's up to youboys to make good my investment. "

"We'll do it, " shouted the scouts in unison. 

"Alright, boys, that's all I ask. I'll leave you now. You can organizeyour own patrols and select your own leaders without my help. When youget hungry, go to the Pine Grove Hotel I've arranged to have all yourmeals served to you there. 

"You can spend the rest of the afternoon becoming familiar with theapparatus, and I guess you'll have all the time you want to practiceduring the next two or three days, for while the races are on no batherswill be allowed on the beach. Well, good-by and good luck to you. "

And the genial bath house proprietor left the scouts to their own devices. 

"Jiminy, fellows, I can't believe it. Some one pinch me, please. I wantto see if I'm awake. Just think of being in charge of such an outfit, "said Gordon after Mr. Herrick had left. 

"It does seem like a dream, doesn't it?" said Bruce, examining thecontents of the first-aid chest that formed the body of the side car. "Come on, let's dig into this and see what we have to work with. "

That invitation was unnecessary, for several of the lads were rummagingthrough the chest while others were inspecting the machine and stillothers were wandering through the building looking their new quartersover. So occupied were they in this pleasant occupation that theycompletely forgot the time. Indeed, it was after six o'clock before theyrealized it. And since six o'clock was the dinner hour at the hotel thelads hustled off up the beach to find their boarding place. 

For an hour after they left the hotel the scouts wandered through theresort acquainting themselves with the place. At eight they all returnedto the south station, for they realized that they still had a great dealto do that evening. 

When the electric lights were lit and the scouts were comfortablysituated in the bedroom of the Station, Bruce called a meeting. The fourbest swimmers were selected first. They were Jiminy, Romper, Bud andBruce. After a vote Jiminy and Bruce were selected to man the motorcyclein the south station, while the two others were appointed operators ofthe apparatus in the north station. The six remaining lads wereappointed lookouts to man the beach towers. Three were attached to thenorth station crew, of which Bud was made leader, and the other threewere appointed members of Bruce's south station crew. 

Before the meeting adjourned it was decided that all ten scouts remain inthe south station for the night, since there would be very little workfor them to do next day. Bruce also thought it wise to have all the ladstogether while they were learning to use the pulmotor and becomingfamiliar with their apparatus. Then, too, the south station was betterlocated to afford the lads a view of the automobile races next morning, which counted for a great deal. 

By sleeping two in a bed and disregarding any slight discomforts the tenlads found that they could occupy quarters meant to accommodate onlyfive. And after a round of pillow fights and similar nocturnaldiversions they were finally all tucked in and ready for sleep. 

"Well, good-night, fellows. Hope we all sleep comfortably, " shoutedRomper after the lights had been turned out. 

"Good-night yourself, " shouted Jiminy. Then he added, "Hi, fellows, theInternationals to-morrow! Whoop--e-e-e!"

CHAPTER XIII

THE DAY OF THE BIG RACE

Bang--bang-bankety-bang-bang-bang! The ten scouts bounded out of bed atonce. All were wide eyed with excitement and wonder. 

"What the dickens! An earthquake!" demanded Bud Weir. 

Jiminy Gordon was the first one to the window. 

"Gee whiz, look at him go!"

"Look at who--what?"

"Why that was one of the racing cars, " said Jiminy. "They are tuning upfor the big races to-day. Guess it was a foreign car from the racket itmade. All the mufflers off. Couldn't make out just which car it wasthough. Going so fast it looked just like a gray streak. I--"

"Bnr-r-r-r-r bumpety-boom-boom-boom-b a n g bang-bang!"

"Whoopee-e-e, here's another one, " screamed Jiminy. 

The ten scouts rushed to the front door of the building, ignoring thefact that they were clad only in pajamas and night shirts, and waved tothe passing racer. 

"Cracky, look at him tear up the beach, " exclaimed Bruce. 

"Rather early in the morning to risk one's neck, eh? It's only fouro'clock. Guess they are doing their last tuning up before the eventsstart, " said Jiminy. 

"Say, how do they race?" asked fat Babe Wilson. "Do they line 'em uplike a lot of sprinters and start 'em when a pistol is fired?"

"Well, they may do some match racing tomorrow, but to-day I think theywill hold their time trials. They will race to see who can make the besttime over the course, " said Jiminy. 

"How fast can they go?" asked Ray Martin. 

"Oh, they can make a mile in half a minute. The world's record for amile is twenty-five and one-half seconds, " said Gordon, who was more orless of an authority on automobiles among the members of the QuarryTroop. 

"Gee Whizz! Say what can they make fifteen miles in? How long will ittake 'em to go the full length of the beach?" asked Bruce. 

"Well, the world's record for fifteen miles is just ten minutes flat. That's an old record and Dan Dacy says he's going to smash it tosmithereens to-day. Hope he does. Say, fellows, what do you say togoing down and looking over the garages before breakfast?"

"Fine, let's get some clothes on and we'll start right away, " saidRomper. 

Dressing was only a matter of a few minutes and presently the troop wason its way down the boardwalk toward the point where the series ofgreen-peaked roofs located the garages of the speed maniacs. Although itwas not yet five o'clock in the morning there were scores of people onthe board walk all headed in the same direction. 

"Say, this is going to be a big day all right, " said Ray Martin, as henoted the enthusiasm that prevailed. 

"Right-o, just look at the crowd down there at the garages already thismorning, " said Bruce. 

About each of the low houses were grouped dozens of curiosity seekers. The scouts soon joined the throng and began to inspect the quarters ofthe races. Each garage contained a big sullen looking car about whichwas grouped half a dozen mechanics. These men were tinkering here, tightening a bolt there, or wiping and polishing the great machines as ifthey were so many sacred elephants. Mechanical parts, pumps, jacks, boxes of tools, cans of oil, extra tires and wheels, cushions andinnumerable odds and ends were scattered about each building andeverybody seemed to be keyed up to an extreme nervous pitch. On everyside could be heard remarks about the cars and drivers, their records andtheir chances for winning the various events. 

The excitement was infectious and before they realized it the scouts wereas thoroughly interested as every one else. They began to talkautomobiles to all with whom they came in contact and soon picked up agreat deal of information about the notables who were to take part in theraces. 

"Say, Bruce, " said Jiminy Gordon suddenly, "there's Dan Dacy. See him. That big, tall, light-haired fellow down there. I've seen his picture somany times that I almost feel as if know him. Come on, we'll go down andsee his machine. That must be his garage--yes, it is. See the sign overthe door. Vix-Benson, it says. That's the car he's going to drive. "

The scouts followed Jiminy and Bruce and soon found themselves part of avery large crowd gathered about the famous driver's headquarters. Dacywas the favorite American in the race and since he was to operate one ofthe best known American cars everybody was enthusiastic to see him carryoff the honors of the event in which he was entered. He was standing bythe door of his garage watching his attendants tinker with his machine, when the scouts came up. The lads pushed their way through the crowd toreach the rope railing about the entrance to the garage, and when thetall racer saw them, he smiled and waved his hand. 

"How are you, Scouts?" he said good-naturedly. Then without waiting foran answer he came over to the rope. 

"Where are you fellows from?" he demanded. 

"Woodbridge, Vermont, sir, " said Bruce. 

"Woodbridge, Vermont? Well, you came a long way to see the races, didn'tyou?" he said, a boyish smile playing about the corners of his mouth. 

"Well, not exactly. You see we are here on business. That is, we'vebeen hired as life guards at Old Harbor. We're going to patrol the beachfor the rest of the Summer. 

"Oh-ho, so you are the chaps Mr. Herrick was telling me about--havemotorcycles and all that sort of rigging, eh? Say, boys, that's a greatscheme. I saw the original motor cycle life guards work out inCalifornia last year, and they're great, too. Hope you have luck. " Thenafter shaking hands with Bruce and Jiminy and two or three other scouts, he turned and entered the garage, for one of his mechanics had calledhim. 

And although Dan Dacy did not realize it, this spirit of democracy hadwon him ten thoroughly capable rooters, for the scouts were more thanpleased with his friendship. 

"Say isn't he a corking fine chap, " exclaimed Bruce. 

"I should say he was; a regular pippin' I'd call him, " said Jiminystoutly. And he looked at his companions as if he dared any one of themto deny it. 

The crowd about the garage was growing to tremendous proportions, and itwas all that the scouts could do to extricate themselves. When theyfinally reached the open beach again, Bruce looked at his watch. 

"Say, fellows, it's getting late, " he exclaimed; "it's six o'clock and wehaven't had any breakfast. I think we will have to hustle over to thehotel if we want to get back to quarters and have a drill before theraces start. "

"Right-o, " exclaimed Babe Wilson, "I know it's getting late because mystomach feels all shriveled up for want of something to eat. "

"Huh, that stomach of yours, " said Jiminy Gordon in disgust, as he took alingering look toward the garages. A moment later he fell in line withthe rest of the lads, who started up the board walk toward the hotel. 

On their way back the scouts paid a brief visit to the north station, butthey all returned to Bruce's domain at half-past seven, for the northstation crew was rather eager to stay in the vicinity of the lowerstation for a better view of the races. Then, too, they had decided thenight before that it would be well for all of them to practice theirfirst aid work together. 

There was very little need for the lookouts to man their tower duringthis practice work, for they needed no drilling since all of theirsignaling would be done with signal flags and the semaphore signal codewhich is part of the examination for all second class scouts. 

That being the case, Bruce decided that all of the lads would devote themorning to operating the pulmotor, while the four life savers madefrequent plunges into the surf so as to become accustomed to swimmingwith the aid of the buoy. One after another the lads operated thepulmotor upon a supposed victim until each had learned the proper methodof adjusting and strapping fast the mouthpiece, and which screws to turnto start and stop the oxygen pump. An hour of this practice work wasquite sufficient, and when it was finished Bruce and Jiminy and Bud andRomper, turn about, took the motor cycle for short dashes up the beachand indulged in a mock rescue At ten o'clock the drilling was stopped, for the racing automobiles began to appear on the beach in finalpreparation for the races which were scheduled to start at eleven. 

"Say, fellows, that rescue work is some fun, " said Jiminy Gordon, as heemerged from the surf for the last time and came toward the station. 

"You bet it is, " said Bruce, as he shut off the power of the motorcycleand wheeled the machine into its quarters. 

"And the water is just snappy enough to feel good, too. You know, Ithink I'll stay in my bathing suit all day, even though there won't beany bathers to rescue. I want to get tanned up right away, " addedJiminy. 

"Good idea, " exclaimed several, with enthusiasm, and forthwith they alldonned the special maroon bathing suits that Mr. Herrick had provided forhis life guards. But it is hard to tell whether it was the desire toacquire a good coat of tan or the opportunity afforded them to displaytheir rather pretentious bathing suits, that moved them to take thisstep. However, fifteen minutes later, a group of ten uniformed and moreor less self-conscious beach guards were sunning themselves in front ofthe south station in full view of the thousands of people who weregathering on the board walk to view the races. 

By eleven o'clock the crowd had increased to a veritable horde. Thousands lined the board walk from the garages to the finish line andhundreds of automobiles were parked in every roadway. Special guards, composed of the local troop of boy scouts with their staffs and a troopof militia from Portland had been detailed to keep the sightseers orderlyand in position on the board walk. They were all having their hands fullaccomplishing the task, however, for the automobile enthusiasts began toget restless as the time for the start of the races drew near. 

At five minutes after eleven the band on the recreation pier, which hadbeen blaring forth popular airs for an hour, ceased, and a moment laterthe judges made their appearance on the beach. This was a signal forprolonged cheering on the part of the crowd. But the noise stopped Whena single individual carrying a black and white flag stepped out into thecourse and began wigwagging. He was signaling to another individual atthe garages, who in turn transmitted his signal to the starting line inthe dim distance down the beach. 

"That means everything is ready. The first car will start in a moment, "said Jiminy Gordon nervously. 

Every one was gazing down the beach, where a tiny black blotch on thesand marked the dozen or more racing cars held ready for the start. Thenwhen every one was waiting tense and silent--boom! came the muffled echoof the starting gun. --They're off! cried the crowd, and far, far downthe beach the scouts could see the tiniest black speck coming towardthem. Soon they heard a curious far-off drone which developed quicklyinto a grumble, then into a fusillade of loud bangs as the racing carapproached. The scouts were all on their feet now, nervous andexpectant. 

"Osterhout, the German, " cried the spectators, as the long, low racerdrew near. 

Then almost before the scouts could wink, it had roared past, its hoodenveloped in blue flames and its driver bending low over the steeringgear. 

"Gee whiz!" was all that the amazed scouts could say when the big carroared across the line. 

A brief but tense silence followed the finish of the run, for the crowdwaited while the judges, by means of an elaborate system of telephonecommunicated with the starters, fixed the time. Presently, however, thehuge scoreboard on the recreation pier displayed: Osterhout, two minutes34 seconds. This announcement was greeted by a roar, for the German hadequaled the world record for five miles. 

"Cracky, " cried Jimmy Gordon, "Dan Dacy will have to go some to beatthat. Just think, if Osterhout had been one-fifth of a second fasterhe'd have smashed the world's record. Gosh, I wish--"

Boom! Here comes another one!

Silence reigned in the vast crowd again and every eye followed the blackspeck. "Du Blon, " guessed some; "St. Clare, " said others; "Wolverton, "asserted several enthusiasts. 

But before the big racer had traveled half of the course the hum of itsengines ceased and the black speck gradually came to a halt. Wolvertonit proved to be and his car had developed engine trouble. The Staffordcar was out of the race. 

St. Clare and Du Blon followed in quick cession, each of them drivingtheir madly flying vehicles to the limit of endurance, but each fellbehind Osterhout's mark by several seconds. McCalkin, the ruddy-facedIrish driver, was the next sensation. His was the smallest car of therace in point of length. Indeed, it looked as if it had collided with atelegraph pole and lost most of its hood. But under that snub nose wereconcealed six perfectly good cylinders that spat fire all the way downthe course and shot the car over the finish line two seconds better thanthe world's record. What a roar of applause greeted the boyish driverwhen the figures were displayed! Even the scouts forgot for a momentthat they were rooting exclusively for Dan Dacy and burst forth in aringing cheer. 

But presently their attention was diverted from this achievement, forword was passed from the judges' stand that Dan Dacy with his Vix-Bensonwas the next contestant. 

"Dan Dacy next!" was the word that passed from mouth to mouth through thecrowd. Every one was a-tip-toe with excitement. All eyes were strainedon the starting line. 

"Gee, I hope he comes through with a new record, " said Bruce anxiously. 

"He will, " asserted Jiminy Gordon positively. 

Boom! Five thousand pairs of eyes were fastened on the tiny black speckthat detached itself from the black blot far down the beach, and spednorthward. Ten thousand ears were strained to catch the first far-offhum of the motor Dacy was coming. His Vix-Benson was burning up thebeach. Now the scouts caught the buzz of the motor. It grew louder withthe passing of every second. Like a black projectile the car came on, flames from the throbbing cylinders licking about the hood. 

"Dacy! Dacy! Danny Dacy! Make it a new record!" screamed theelectrified crowd while he was yet two miles from the finish line. Unquestionably he was the favorite. 

On came the roaring racer. The car was just a gray blur that hardlyseemed to touch the beach, and begoggled Dan Dacy looked like the hoodedmessenger of death. 

Then with an ear-splitting roar the great machine passed the scouts onthe last mile of the course!

"By Jiminy, it's a new record or I'll-- Oh mercy! Look! Look! She'llbe killed!"

The scouts stood transfixed with horror. Up the beach in the very pathof the flying motor stood little May Herrick, clutching a red rubber ballin her hand and looking at the coming machine with horror written inevery line of her childish face. 

The whole situation was clear. The tot had dropped her ball, which hadrolled out onto the sloping beach. With her mind only on rescuing theplaything, she had pulled herself out of her nurse's grasp and run outonto the race course. And then when she found herself in the path ofcertain death she had become panic-stricken. 

Dan Dacy's heart must have leapt to his throat when he saw the little onein his way. But if it did it in no way affected his nerve. He knew thatto turn the steering wheel but an inch meant certain destruction to thecareening car and a broken neck for himself perhaps. Yet he braved thishideous fate and wrenched at the steering gear. 

There was a terrific roar, a crash of shattered metal and in a cloud ofsand the big gray racer turned abruptly and plunged end over end down thebeach into the curling breakers. The crowd gave vent to a shriek ofalarm when they saw Dan Dacy's limp form shoot clear of the wreck and gowhirling, arms and legs flying out toward the point where the comberswere breaking. 

Like every one of the five thousand witnesses of the tragedy, the scoutsstood paralyzed for a moment--but only for a moment--Bruce was the firstto gather his scattered wits. 

"Quick, Jiminy! We'll get him! Come! He may still be alive! The restof you fellows follow on foot!"

While he was speaking, Bruce rushed into the station and started themotor cycle. Jiminy was right behind him and an instant later thepowerful machine was making forty miles an hour over the sandy beach. Bruce bent low over the handle bars while Jiminy clung on and sought tobuckle the life buoy belt about his waist. 

When the machine reached the wrecked motor car Bruce brought it to anabrupt stop. But already Jimmy had leaped from the machine and plungedinto the water. With powerful overhand strokes he breasted the breakers. He seemed to shoot through the water, so mighty were his efforts. 

Thirty feet out he saw something bobbing upon the surface of the water. It was Dacy's leather helmet. Toward this Jiminy headed and the waterfairly boiled with the struggle he was making to reach the spot. In afew seconds he was near enough to reach out and grasp the black object. But he let go of it immediately and the next moment he was seen toprepare for a dive under the surface. A few feet away he had seen someair bubbles coming to the top. 

In a jiffy he had unbuckled the life buoy. Then like a seal the litheyoungster sought the dark green depths, following the line of bubbles. Down he swam, deeper and deeper, for on the white, sandy bottom he couldsee a dark, shapeless mass turning round and round with the action of thewater. He reached out to seize it and his lingers slipped from thedriver's leather jacket. Again he tried, and his hand closed about thecold wrist of the unconscious man. 

Then he turned and started to struggle upward, dragging his heavy burdenafter him. It was hard work--terrible work, for he had dived deep and hewas badly in need of air. His lungs felt as if they would burst. Theblood pressure in his neck and head was almost unbearable. At first hecould make no headway. The drowning man seemed to hold fast to thebottom. But he fought hard for he realized that if he let go of Dacy hewould have difficulty in finding him with a second dive. Every momentwas precious, too. There might still be a spark of life in the limp formhe was trying to rescue. 

Up, up, he struggled. Above he could see the light of day. Great greenbubbles raced past him. Only a few feet now. Only a second or twolonger. Thus did he spur himself onward until suddenly his head shotclear of the waves, and, with a-gasp, he filled his tortured lungs withnew air. Ten feet away danced the cigar-shaped float with its life belt, and swimming toward him from the crowded beach were two other scoutsready to help. 

Jimmy summoned every ounce of his remaining strength and held the head ofthe unconscious man above the water. And when the spectators saw that hehad actually made the rescue a cheer louder and longer than any that hadgreeted the racers rent the air. 

It was hard work and Jiminy was at the point of exhaustion, yet he triedhis utmost to buckle the life belt about poor Dacy. But while he fumbledwith the straps the two other scouts arrived and relieved him of thetask. Quickly the belt was adjusted and the sign flashed to Bruce, whoseized the steel cable and hauled away. 

Then the two lads turned their attention to Jiminy and between them aidedhim into shallow water. 

By the time the three swimmers reached the beach the scouts had clearedDacy's lungs of water and had started the pulmotor. For twenty minutesthe lads worked valiantly, doing everything that they could to bring backlife in the unconscious man, while the anxious crowd looked on. 

Finally their efforts were rewarded. Dacy's eyelids quivered severaltimes, then slowly opened, whereat the crowd gave a mad cry of joy andthe scouts had all they could do to keep them from pressing closer. 

But one man did break through the circle of guards and the lads let himpass. He was Mr. Herrick. Tears of joy coursed down his good naturedface when he saw that Dacy was still alive, and before the scouts couldrestrain him he seized the prostrate man's hand and squeezed it while hemurmured:

"Dacy, Dacy, thank goodness you are still alive. I was afraid you hadsacrificed your life to save that little girl of mine. "

Then turning toward Bruce, he said, "Scouts, I don't know how to thankyou for this. I--"

"Don't try to thank us, Mr. Herrick, " said Bruce, "but you can help usput him onto the side car. I think we should get to a doctor's rightaway, for there may be some broken bones or internal injuries. "

And a few moments later the life guard's motorcycle was carrying itsfirst patient to the emergency hospital. 

CHAPTER XIV

WHEN THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENED

Whack--"Nine-hundred-en-ten;" whack--"nine-hundred-en-'leven, " whack, "Zare ees almoost une tousan trees what you boys mus' cut awraty. Whatyou zink of zat?" said Paul Nez, the big French-Canadian lumber cruiser, as he hacked a blaze into a six-inch poplar and left his short hatchetwedged fast while he felt through his pockets for a handkerchief. 

"Et will take you all ze Wintair for ze work mebbe, huh?" he continued, as he blew his nose with a loud blast. 

"George! I shouldn't wonder if it would take us a couple of months atleast, " said Bruce Clifford as he sat down upon a stump and pushed hishat back upon his head. 

"Yes, snow will be thick through here when we finally finish, I guess, "added Jiminy Gordon, surveying the forest. 

"Well, the Doctair Lyman he say he not such great rush, " smiled theCanadian. Then he paused and seemed to search into the very heart of thewood with his coal black eyes, and all this time he kept sniffing theair. 

"Camp 'round here sure. One no good camp too, mebby, " said he finally ashe pointed toward the west. 

"I thought I smelled the smoke of a camp fire, " said Bruce. 

"So did I, " added Jiminy. 

"I smell heem smoke, I smell heem scraps, too. No good camp, no knowwoods. Mebby heem get seek. Come on. We all through now. We find 'emwood road now soon. Doctair Lyman heem line run cross by that blaze overtair; you see heem, huh? Heem end of Doctair Lyman's wood. "

"So that's the line, eh? Well, twenty-five acres of woods is a lot ofterritory, isn't it, Bruce?" said Jimmy, as he picked up his scouthatchet and slipped into his belt. 

The Canadian wrenched his hatchet free from the poplar and startedswinging westward between the trees and the two Quarry Troop scouts fellin behind him in single file. And as they walked on the smell of thecamp lire, and the tainted odor that emanates from a camp's garbage dumpgrew stronger to their nostrils. 

Then presently the camp itself loomed up at the very side of the woodroad for which the Canadian lumberman was headed. 

A single wall tent of large proportions was the most conspicuous thingabout the place. This had its flaps pinned back and in the doorway, reclining on a collapsible canvas camp chair with a bandage-swathed footpropped up on a soap box sat one of the occupants. 

The woodsman and the two Quarry Scouts needed only a glance at the littleclearing to know that those who had built it here knew nothing at allabout the woods and were, moreover, very disorderly by nature. Blanketslay in a confused heap among leaves and twigs instead of being hung up todry; empty cans, paste board boxes and scraps of paper littered theplace; fire burned entirely too near a dry brush pile and there was nostone fireplace to hold it in check; loose papers were scattered aboutand to make matters even worse, the pots and pans that had been used tocook the last meal lay on the ground unwashed. 

It was indeed a bungle of a camp but if the single occupant realized ithe did not seem to care a whit for he sat serenely in the doorway of thetent so interested in a book that he did not hear Paul Nez and his youngcompanions approaching. 

"'Allo, you get heem broke foot, mebby?" said Paul with a grin as hemoved toward the tent. 

The camper looked up with a start, and then smiled. "Yes, I twisted myright ankle yesterday by falling down a gully, and ouch--don't make memove 'cause it hurts like sin. Glad it isn't sprained though. It oughtto be well in four or five days. Anything you want? Anything we can dofor you? If there is, go ahead and do it yourself. The rest of thefellows are off partridge hunting. What do you want, provisions, matches? I'll tell you where they are and you can help yourself. Ican't move. "

"We don't want heem nothin'. We go out of woods now right off, down woodroad. Why you don't fix heem camp up good? Look um fire--poor, bad, veryworse. Some day heem catch bush so, leaves mebby, and then heem timberfire. Burn out heem woods. Look um pans, pots, dirty dishes. Not goodfor smell. Not good for men in heem woods. Blankets, look um all getlousy. Not very good camp, heem, " said the Canadian, plainly showinghis disgust at the general disorder about the place. 

"I know it, old chap. It looks like the sloppiest kind of a place to me, but then I'm not supposed to know anything about camps and woods. I comefrom Boston, you see. The other fellows are the campers. They areVermonters, from St. Cloud City, " said the man in the doorwaysarcastically. 

"Huh, a deuced of a lot they know about the woods and camping, " saidBruce in disgust as he surveyed the scene. 

"They know more about keeping a pig sty, " said Jiminy Gordon as he pickedup the blankets and, shaking them free of the dust, hung them onto thebranch of a nearby hemlock. 

"Thanks, old chap, those blankets on the ground worried me a lot. And ifyou don't mind, will you scrape up a few of those papers? Jack and Bart(they are the fellows who are camping with me) run off every morning andleave a mess like that behind. They are off hunting most of the day andhere I have to sit like a blooming invalid until they come back. But Idon't mind so long as I have a good book. Thanks, that looks muchbetter, doesn't it? I'm much obliged to you fellows--ah--er, what'reyour names anyway--mine's Dave--Dave Connors. "

The two scouts introduced themselves and then because Paul Nez hadstarted down the wood road they waved farewell to the camper with theinjured foot and hustled to catch up to the timber cruiser. 

"When you come into heem woods for cut um down?" asked the Canadian whenthe scouts finally caught up with him. 

"Why we are going to start cutting right away, " said Bruce. "You see weget a fall vacation and that will help a lot. School closes tomorrow andremains closed until next Monday. The whole troop is coming up to LongLake tomorrow afternoon after school closes, to start a camp and remainhere the whole week. Then after that we are going to come up everyFriday night and work all day Saturday until our contract is completedand we have enough lumber to build our log camp. " They swung along downthe wood toward Long Lake where they met the main highway that led backtoward Woodbridge and Scout Headquarters. 

The members of the Quarry Troop of Woodbridge had taken upon themselves areal contract. Indeed they felt that they had suddenly all becomegenuine business men as a result of a bargain they had made with theleading physician of the village, for you see their little stroke ofdickering had put them in the way of securing material for a real logcabin on the shores of Long Lake, a site for the cabin, and a chance tomake a little money for the troop treasury besides. It had come aboutthis way. 

Mr. Ford, the Assistant Scoutmaster of the Quarry Troop, had learned fromDr. Lyman that he intended to cut a great deal of the standing timber onhis tract of twenty-five acres bordering the lake. This he intended todispose of as pulp wood, the only purpose it was really good for. Mr. Ford had imparted this information to Bruce Clifford and Jiminy Gordonthat same evening and it was not long before the leader of the Owl Patroland his chum had discovered the possibilities of a business deal. 

Accordingly after the next meeting the two lads visited Dr. Lyman andmade him a proposition to the effect that the scouts would cut his pulpwood and take their pay in trees. These trees, the lads explained, wereto be felled and used to construct a log cabin on the lake shore. Aspart of the bargain they asked for permission to use a section of Dr. Lyman's land that bordered the lake as a site for their camp. 

The plan struck the physician as being capital and he was particularlypleased to find that the boys were eager to earn their pleasure with goodhard work. In fact he was so pleased that he made a bargain whereby theboys would get one cord of wood in every four cut and they could havetheir wood either in trees or in cord wood lengths, just as they desired. Under this arrangement it was quite apparent that the boys would havemore than enough lumber to build their log cabin and Dr. Lyman told themthat he would buy whatever extra wood fell to their share and pay for itat the market price of pulp wood. 

Moreover, to help the boys, the physician arranged to have Paul Nez, anexperienced timber cruiser, traverse the woods, blazing each tree of theproper pulp wood species and size thus giving the boys a clear idea ofwhat timber to cut and what to leave standing. And Bruce and Jiminy wereasked to accompany him so that they might become familiar with the forest. 

Tramping the length and breadth of twenty-five acres of wood land, blazing every tree between six and eight inches, was not the easiest sortof work the scouts had ever undertaken, and when they finally arrived atWoodbridge at four o'clock in the afternoon they were "plum tuckered, " toquote Jiminy. 

However, a brief rest and a hearty evening meal put them in fine shapeonce more and they were able to get to the troop headquarters betimesthat evening, for a meeting had been called at which plans were to belaid for the start of the lumber camp. 

Mr. Ford was at headquarters to hear the details of the cruise fromJiminy and Bruce, and he also gave the scouts some expert advice as tothe equipment they would want for the beginning of the camp on themorrow. 

Among other things he suggested that they build a winter camp immediatelyby putting up lean-tos with thatched roofs on the shores of the lake. These would be warmer than their tents and would make more or lesscomfortable quarters until along toward snow time, when the big log cabinthe lads hoped to build would be well on its way toward completion. Then, too, these structures could be left in the woods and would alwaysbe ready for the boys, whereas if they used their tents they would haveto make and break camp every Saturday. The Assistant Scoutmaster alsomade out lists of provisions, clothes and equipment for the boys and theyspent a busy evening getting everything together and in shape for anearly start next morning. 

In the weird half light of dawn next day, long before Woodbridge wasawake and stirring, nearly a score of scouts were hustling towardheadquarters on the crown of Otter Hill. Every lad was in uniform andmost of them wore mackinaws or sweaters to keep out the early morningchill. 

Also each carried the family ax, and over his shoulder blanket roll andhaversack. 

"Old Nanc, " the troop's automobile, stood in front of the old machineshop piled high with tarpaulins, cooking utensils, provisions, and adozen and one other things that the scouts used in their summer camp, andin the driver's seat was Brad Henshaw, Dr. Lyman's chauffeur. Several ofthe boys found room for themselves on the running board; the others wenton their motorcycles, which were to be brought back in the car, for therewas no safe place in camp for such things. 

It was with considerable groaning and grumbling that the home-madeautomobile finally got under way, but when she was safely started therest of the expedition followed in her wake, and trundled on toward theirdestination. 

A little after sun-up found the lads at the lake shore. Here "Old Nanc"and the cycles were halted, for there was no chance of her making her wayalong the uneven wood road that skirted the lake for half a mile beforeit turned and entered the heart of the forest. 

At this point the scouts detrained, as it were, and deposited all theirluggage on the ground. Then, having unloaded the automobile, theyproceeded to reload her, this time with her brood of gasoline-fedducklings. This done the outfit was turned over to Brad again whoimmediately started back to Woodbridge. 

For an hour after the departure of the automobile the scouts were as busyas bees carrying their paraphernalia to the camp site which they hadpicked out on the lake shore at the point where the wood road turned andentered the forest. Here was a little stretch of high ground that hadbeen partly cleared by wind-falls and Bruce and Jiminy had selected it asan ideal location for the camp and site for the troop's future log cabinheadquarters. 

With practically three patrols at work it did not take the lads long toclear away the underbrush and fallen logs in the open space. Indeed thewhack, whack of their hatchets and the heavier cluck, cluck of their axescould be heard on all sides of the clearing and in a surprisingly shorttime a big space had been made ready for the camp. Dozens of youngcedars and fir trees were felled for the lean-tos and in short order thelads were busy with hammers and nails putting up the frame-work of six ofthese shelters. 

They worked with a will and the little forest settlement grew apace. After the frame work of the structures was completed the scouts set towork with clasp knives and hatchets and stripped the cedars and firs oftheir branches. Then with this material they began to thatch the sidesand roof of the lean-tos working the twigs in and out until they formed athickly matted protection against the weather. They worked with a willin spite of cut and blistered fingers and pitch blackened hands until itbegan to look as if they would have their little lumbering villagefinished and ready for occupancy by mid-afternoon. 

At half past eleven Romper Ryan, Ray Martin and Buster Benson knocked offshelter-building, for they had been appointed cooks for the camp. Hastilythey put together a big stone fireplace well away from any leaves andunderbrush, and after they had a good fire going they began preparing thefirst meal at the Quarry Scout lumber camp. 

The three lads elected to the commissary department were the best cooksin the troop, and they did themselves proud on that particular occasion, for when Romper finally sounded his call to quarters on the bottom of thetin dishpan there were stacks of golden brown country sausages, snowywhite boiled potatoes, savory strips of fried bacon, three big pots ofsteaming hot coffee and last, but not least, nearly a hundred chocolatedoughnuts which Jiminy Gordon's mother had contributed just by way ofshowing the boys how much she thought of them. 

In a jiffy seventeen youngsters were assembled in line, tin plate and cupin hand. One by one they filed past the three cooks and received theirportions, and shortly after they were all sitting cross legged on theground, each devoting his full attention to filling a vacant space justunder his belt. The only sound that could be heard was the scraping ofknives and forks against the tin plates, and now and then a grunt ofsatisfaction, for their work in the open had given the lads appetites ofyoung sharks. 

"Um-m-m, Jiminy, that was some feed!" grunted Jiminy Gordon as he putdown his plate and wiped his mouth on his handkerchief. 

"You said it, only I wish I could have just one more helping of sausagesand maybe a little more potatoes; I think I'd feel entirely satisfiedthen, " said fat Babe Wilson, looking pleadingly at Romper. 

"Aw give him enough to eat, Romper, he's only had three helpings already, "jeered Bud Weir. 

"Sorry, Babe, but you've cleaned us out. There isn't a potato or asausage left, " said Romper. 

"Gee, that's a fine note. Want to starve him?" said Ray Martin, sarcastically. 

"Hi, don't you talk. You got your share before we did. Pretty softbeing a cook. I'd like to have that job myself, " snorted Babe Wilson. 

"You leave Ray alone, Babe. He's some cook, he is. So is Romper, too, only he lets his old fire smoke. Look at that yellow haze up there amongthe trees. Did your fire make all that smoke, Romper?" said Bruce. 

"My fire--why--blame it all it's out. It's plum down to ashes--and, gee! I didn't heat any dish water. Hi, Buster, what did you let thatfire go out for? I told you to put some wood on and heat water. "

"I--I--aw, I was so hungry I forgot about it. Never mind I'll build itagain. I--"

"Say, Romper, is your fire really out?" queried Bruce, looking at thefireplace. Then he added:

"Sure enough, but by gollies I smell some--I hope it isn't--gee, lookover to the west there above the trees: Is that smoke? Is it? Say, fellows, can it be a forest fire? Gee, I hope not. "

"Forest fire!" exclaimed half a dozen scouts. 

Every lad jumped to his feet immediately and looked in the directionBruce was pointing. And there they beheld a pall of yellow smoke hanginglow above the tree tops. They could smell it, too. The pungent odor ofburning hemlock was so strong as to be unmistakable. Then for the firsttime the lads noted that the sunlight seemed dimmed too. 

"Jove, I believe it _is_ a forest fire, " cried Bud Weir. 

"I'll bet--say, fellows, look at those big jack rabbits, and there's afox, and look at the birds. It's a forest fire all right, or thoseanimals wouldn't be running out in the open like that and streaking itfor the lake. Cracky what'll we do? I-- Hi, Bruce, what's getting you, you're as pale as a ghost?"

Every lad turned toward the leader of the Owl Patrol, who stood as ifstricken dumb with horror. But even as they gazed at him he shook offthe mental fetters and immediately became a lad of action. 

"Fellows, " he cried, "listen! There's a man in there--in the fire. Perhaps three of them. Jiminy, you remember, Dave--Dave, what's-his-name--Connors. You know, the fellow in camp over there withthe twisted ankle. We saw him yesterday. He's probably in there yet. We must get him out. He can't move, and a forest fire's about the mostterrible thing in the world. Quick, fellows! Get your blankets and wet'em in the lake. Quick, now! Follow me!"

CHAPTER XV

A NARROW ESCAPE

As usual Dave Connors awoke to find himself alone in camp that morning. Jack and Bart, his camping companions, had left at dawn and gone outpartridge hunting exactly as they had done every day since Dave fell downinto the gully and twisted his ankle. They were thoughtful enough toleave the coffee pot within reach of Dave's cot, however, along with somefried strips of bacon, bread and butter and a couple of boiled eggs, sothat the injured man did not have to hobble about to get his ownbreakfast. 

Dave dashed a cup of water over his hands and splashed a little in hisface by way of performing his toilet and then sitting on the edge of hiscot, proceeded to devour what was before him eagerly, for, although hisfoot was injured, his appetite was entirely healthy. 

"Um--m--m that was good, " he muttered as he wiped his mouth on his sleeveand looked down at his bandaged foot. 

"Now if my old kick was in good order I'd go for a long tramp with a gunbut--Ah, --ouch--still sore and swollen. Guess I won't be able to hobbleabout for a couple of days yet, " he reflected as he felt of the injuredmember. 

Then steadying himself on the edge of the cot with the assistance of acane that Jack cut for him three days before, he hobbled to the tentdoorway and looked out. 

"Jove, what a corking day! It's a shame I had to get laid up right atthe beginning of the trip. But I'll be all right in a couple of days andI suppose I can stand it as long as my books hold out. But, blame itall, look at this camp. Jack and Bart are the sloppiest fellows I eversaw. Look at the blankets on the ground again and the papers scatteredeverywhere. And look at the big fire they've left. What for, I wonder?I wish I could get out there and clean up the place. I'll speak to themto-night. I don't think such conditions are sanitary. I--I--ouch, blastit, I can't clean up the place, " and with a look of disgust the man fromBoston limped over to his camp chair and picked up the book that had heldhis interest the day before. 

How long he had been reading he did not know; perhaps an hour, perhapstwo. But suddenly he was aroused by a strange, unnatural cracking sound. He looked up with a start, and his eyes dilated with horror at what he saw. 

There, not ten feet from him, creeping and writhing through the driedgrass and leaves and darting long yellow tongues toward him menacingly, wormed a streak of fire. 

It was like a serpent that had crawled out of the embers and sought tocatch him unawares. Slowly it moved forward, fanned by the fall breezeuntil it was a big V extending across the camp clearing, with each armburning. 

On it advanced, licking up everything in its path. Here it consumed aleaf, there a scrap of paper, and each time it devoured something itwaxed stronger and more threatening. Even while Dave sat there staringat it, it reached a dried branch. With a crackle this burst into flame, setting fire in turn to a sheet of newspaper nearby. Instantly this wasa burning torch. Dave tried to knock it out with his cane. But beforehe could reach it a gust of wind seized and whirled it across theopening, flinging it spitefully against a fir tree. 

With a hiss and a crackling roar this blazed up. In a moment it was acolumn of fire stretching skyward. The sight was terrible to behold. Then like a whirlwind the arms of fire reached out and enveloped anothertree, and sparks flying with the wind lodged in a spruce nearby andconverted it into a roaring furnace. And thus in the space of a minutea forest fire was started!

The scorching heat of the burning spruce brought Dave to his senses. Hesaw before him a hideous fate. Heedless of the pain in his foot hejumped up. His handkerchief be plunged into a pail of drinking waterjust inside the tent door, then with this wrapped about his face andmouth and with his stout cane in hand, he scrambled across the clearingand into the long wood road that led eastward through the forest towardthe lake, half a mile distant. 

Oh, if he could run! If he could only have the use of his injured footfor fifteen minutes, he thought, as he limped on. Behind him he couldhear the roar of the fire as it reached out and gathered energy bylicking up tree after tree. The air was filled with smoke, pungent andnauseating. All about in the forest on either side of the road lividtongues upleaping, consuming everything and growing stronger everymoment. 

On hobbled the man from Boston, trying desperately to make time; tryingmightily to cheat the fire demons that shrieked and roared behind him. And he was not the only one that was fleeing from the seething furnacethat once had been a cool autumn woods. Three deer whisked by him likeflashes of the fire itself. Rabbits, skunks and foxes darted here andthere among the trees, all headed for the safety of the lake. And a bigblack bear lumbered by, grunting with every gallop. How Dave enviedthem. They would be safe. Would he?

Forward he hurried, braving excruciating pain in his injured limb to savehis life. Acrid smoke blasts swept down upon him and almost stifled him. On every side he could feel the heat of the flames. Once a sparkdropped upon his shoulder and fired his shirt. With a cry he beat it outand strove harder. The pain in his foot was unbearable. It made theperspiration stand out upon his forehead. It made him whirl withgiddiness. But on he plunged, fighting the fire, the smoke and the painand striving his hardest to gain the lake. 

Once he thought of Jack and Bart and grew very bitter, for somehow thefire seemed the result of their carelessness. Would they be trapped byit? They had two good strong legs. They would save themselves, hehoped. So must he! Gritting his teeth and stifling a groan, he tried togallop, using the cane and injured foot in unison. It was painful, buthe must make time--he must go fast, faster. 

The fire was close behind. It was gaining. He could hear its triumphantroar. It would catch him soon. Only a few minutes and a fiery arm wouldreach out like a python and wrap about him. The thought made him shudder. 

"No! No! It must not reach me!" he cried in horror and leapt forward. But his cane slipped and jammed between his legs. He tripped and losthis balance. In a mad effort to save himself from falling he put hisinjured foot forward. His entire weight came down upon it and the anklesnapped. The pain was more than he could stand. With a cry of agony hesank into a limp heap. 

Bruce's startling revelation that there was a life to be saved spurredthe scouts to action. One more glance in the direction of the smoke pallto the westward and in a twinkle every lad had his blanket in hand andwas sousing it into the lake. Handkerchiefs were doused too, for theyoungsters knew well that the smoke would soon be so thick that they wouldneed this kind of protection. 

And while the rest were thus occupied, Bruce held a hasty conference withJiminy, and the two boys quickly cut scout staffs. With these in handthey waved the troop forward and started off at a mad pace up the woodroad to meet the advancing forest fire. 

On they raced, the smoke growing heavier and more pungent as they nearedthe flames. They could hear the deep toned muttering of theconflagration. And all the way along the road they were breasting a tideof forest dwellers, deer, rabbit, bears, and a host of smaller animals, all scurrying away from the roaring doom behind them. 

Soon the lads were in the zone of flying sparks. Here and there alongthe road small fires were being started. These were quickly beaten out, for the boys were determined not to have their retreat cut off. As theymoved forward Bruce's heart grew heavy, for he could see that already theflames had swept by the camping site of Dave Connors and his companions. The patrol leader hoped fervently that the injured youth had been able tokeep ahead of the rushing fire. 

They were approaching the fire belt. Their eyes smarted from the smoke. They could feel the heat on every hand. They pulled their hats low toprotect their foreheads and pushed on. Fire was everywhere. Here andthere pine trees burst into flames with a hiss and a roar, and now andthen blazing branches would come hurling through space to fall with acrash in the roadway. 

Bruce began to be worried. Had he brought the scouts out on a dangerousbut useless mission? Had Dave Connors come down the wood road, or had hegone wandering blindly through the forest to be trapped and burned todeath? Perhaps even now he was a charred mass somewhere back there inthat seething forest. The smoke was so thick that the boys could not seetwo feet ahead of them, but they struggled forward, beating out menacingtongues of flames on every hand, hoping to keep the roadway open for aretreat. 

Through the smoke they groped; bending low and breathing through theirwet handkerchiefs. Their eyes burned. Their lungs pained with the gasesthey had inhaled, but they pushed on until suddenly with a cry Brucestumbled and pitched forward. 

But he was on his feet in an instant, and examining the apparentlylifeless mass in the roadway that had tripped him. Then with a shout ofdelight, he summoned Jiminy and in an instant a coat stretcher was madewith the aid of the scout staffs they had cut. Then with the limp formof Dave Connors between them the two scouts started struggling backtoward the lake. Away from the fire they raced with the troop behindthem still beating out the menacing sparks and flames. 

Forward they hurried, but as they advanced this time their way greweasier and the smoke less pungent. Soon they were among the refugeesagain. Rabbits, mink and foxes scuttled along with them, and the boyshad to turn out to keep from treading on some of the smaller animals whocould not travel as fast as their bigger woods neighbors. The heat ofthe fire was left behind and falling sparks no longer bothered them. Their way to the lake was clear. 

A few minutes later they reached the knoll upon which their lumber campwas being constructed. Here they paused long enough to permit Bruce andJiminy to administer first aid to the unconscious Dave Connors. Andwhile the lads were reviving him, others gathered together hatchets, axes, cooking utensils and whatever else they could conveniently carry, and bidding farewell to their doomed camp they made ready for a plungeinto the shallows of the lake. 

All that afternoon and a good part of the evening, the scouts stoodshoulder deep in the cool waters and watched the landscape burn. Acresand acres of woodland with thousands of dollars' worth of timber wasconsumed before their eyes. Dave watched it sadly, for he knew that allthis ruin had been wrought by him and his careless camping companions. 

Every shallow of the lake was crowded with animal life of all kinds, andthe lads knew that thousands of forest dwellers must have perished inthat inferno. They stood among deer and bears and other more timidforest dwellers, but the fear of man and the natural enmity toward eachother was completely blotted out by the greater fear of the fire, and aseeming sense of comradeship born of common danger. 

Night came, and the sky was a livid pink. The lake had checked thefire's advance to the eastward and the wind had driven the flames northtoward the mountains. Further and further away traveled the flamespainting the sky a sinister color and producing a spectacle that thescouts never forgot. 

At midnight, though the woods still smoldered, the boys contemplatedleaving the shallows in which they had been standing and going ashore, for they argued that if the heat from the embers was not too intense theycould work along the margin of the lake until they reached the oppositeshore. 

But while they were contemplating this, off across the lake they sawlights advancing toward them. They heard shouts, too, and they shoutedin answer, and it was not long before they had guided a flotilla of smallboats toward them. This proved to be a rescuing party organized andheaded by the anxious Mr. Ford and old Dr. Lyman, who were almostdistracted until they made doubly certain that every lad was safe andwhole of limb and body. 

CHAPTER XVI

QUARRY TROOP'S CHRISTMAS

"Whew-w-w! Hi, shut that door--good night! want to freeze us out?" shoutedRomper Ryan, as he glared across the workshop at Bruce Clifford and BudWeir. 

"Aw, don't get fidgety. You won't ever freeze the way you're hangingover that forge. What's the matter, Romper?" asked Bruce. 

"Busted the frame of my snowshoe. Trying to make a little brace for itand get it fixed up before you fellows arrived. "

"When'll you be ready? Where are the rest of the fellows?"

"They're upstairs. I'll be ready in a jiffy now. "

The two scouts crossed the shop and made their way noisily up the woodenstairs to the meeting room, where they found half a dozen lads in ananimated discussion as to where the biggest and best Christmas trees wereto be found. 

"I tell you the forest fire cleaned everything out of the Long Lakedistrict, " asserted Ray Martin. 

"Well, I suppose you want us to go all the way over into Bland Countythis cold day, " said fat Babe Wilson sarcastically. 

"Speaking of forest fires, " said Bruce, who had come into the room justin time to hear Ray Martin's remark; "speaking of forest fires, did anyof you fellows see the Northern Lights last night up back of HaystackMountain? Father and I thought first it _was_ a forest fire. The sky wasall pink and white. But we concluded it must have been the reflection ofthe Aurora Borealis. You can see 'em this time of year, you know. Snowhelps their reflection, Pop says. "

"Is that what it was? I saw it too, and when I saw the red glow in thesky I just naturally thought of that Long Lake fire last month. Say, bythe way I got a postal card from that fellow in Boston, we rescued. Remember? Dave Connors is his name--Gollies, every time I think offorest fires I shudder. He sure had a close squeak and so did we. That's why that glow in the sky last night sort of made an impression onme. I wondered if any one was caught in it, same as we were nearlycaught?" said Nipper Knapp. 

"Aw, I tell you it wasn't a fire. It was the Northern Lights back ofHaystack Mountain. Dad said so, and he knows, and, say, speaking ofHaystack Mountain, " added Bruce, "why not go up there for our tree? Ifthis is going to be the town's Christmas tree it must be a whopper. Mostall of that land up there belongs to the people Mr. Ford works for and hehas permission from them to cut as many trees as we need. How about it?"

"By Jiminy! that's just what I said, Bruce, " cried Jiminy Gordon, "andRomper agrees with me. "

"Sure I do, " said Romper, suddenly making his appearance from theworkshop, his mended snowshoe in hand. 

"Then it's Haystack Mountain. Come on, fellows, get ready; half themorning will be gone before we start, " said Bruce, and in a twinkle ahalf-score of scouts were donning mackinaws and sweaters and makingthemselves generally secure against a temperature that hovered very closeto the zero mark. And five minutes later the entire crew, armed withaxes and snowshoe-shod were to be seen leaving headquarters in singlefile and heading up Otter Creek Valley over three feet of December snow. 

Woodbridge had once more honored the Quarry Troop. But the lads hadearned the honor by suggesting that the town hold a public celebration inthe square in front of the Town Hall on Christmas Eve. Moreover, theyhad worked their hardest to gain the interest of village officials, ministers, and men and women of the community in such a celebration andit could well be said that through the efforts of the khaki-cladyoungsters, Woodbridge, as a community, would for the first time welcomethe coming of Christmas. Neighbors and friends, rich and poor, young andold, would stand shoulder to shoulder this Christmas Eve and sing the joyand happiness of the Yuletide. 

And for their share in the organization work the scouts had been grantedthe privilege of providing the town with a big community Christmas tree, which was to stand in the center of the square and be decorated frombottom to tip with colored electric lights. This decorating was anaffair of the Quarry Scouts also. They had been given the commission byMayor Worthington and the councilmen to do all the electric wiring andthe stringing of the bulbs. 

Of course the lads welcomed such an important task, for they were eagerto demonstrate how useful they could be. Also they were pleased todisplay their knowledge of mechanics. So it can be easily understood whyBruce and his chums were eager to get an early start the Saturday morninga week before Christmas. They intended to search the woods for thetallest and straightest fir tree in the township. 

In spite of the fact that their ears tingled with the bitter cold and thewind whistled through the valley, whirling the powdery crystals of snowinto their faces, the scouts were a happy lot of youngsters as they swungtheir way northward. Who could be other than happy with Christmas but aweek off? Snowballs flew thick and fast among them, and now and thensnowshoe races were run, too. 

The lads chose the valley bottom for their journey and avoided thehighway which swung to the left and made a wide detour before the byroadthat approached Haystack Mountain joined it. With this route the ladscould cut down the journey at least three miles and then, too, they hadfine snow for shoeing. 

Soon they had left the open and entered the hardwood belt from which allthe firs and other evergreens had long since been trimmed. Snowshoeingthrough the woods was not so much of a lark, for the lads had no trail tofollow and must needs work their way between half-covered underbrush. The snow was softer here, too, and their shoes dragged. But most oftheir surplus energy had been worked off by this time and they werewilling to settle down to single file. Each took his turn breaking atrail. 

On they traveled for more than an hour, always keeping the shoulder ofHaystack Mountain, which loomed up above the tree line, their objective. About half a mile from the mountain they suddenly came clear of the woodsand into the highway. Here a brief conference was held as to theadvisability of trying to climb the shoulder of the mountain or takingthe road which led around. The last route was decided upon, because uphere the thoroughfare was little traveled and was practically unbroken. Indeed, they saw signs of very few sleighs having passed there since thesnowstorm four days previous. 

Away they swung, keeping an eye out on either side of the road for aChristmas tree, but they did not find a fir tall enough to be used forthe town's tree. 

Soon they were around the shoulder of the mountain and traveling west. The woods were thicker here and trees more numerous. But there was apeculiar odor of burnt wood in the air, too, which all the scoutsdetected. 

"Cracky! I believe your Northern Light was a forest fire, or--or--say, isn't that smoke rising above those trees there?" demanded Nipper Knapp. 

"Right, by go lies!" shouted Bruce, "but--oh, I know, now. There's alittle farm in there. It's been vacant for--no, it hasn't, by jingoes!an old lady has been living there all Fall. I've seen her in town. Nanny Haskells, they call her. Cracky! come on, fellows, maybe the poorold soul has been burned to death!"

The scouts were off at a gallop, stirring up the snow like a whirlwind asthey loped along the road. Soon they came to an unbroken lane throughthe woods. Into this they turned and a hundred yards further on theyemerged into the little farm clearing. What a sight met their eyes. 

In a smoldering, smoking heap of charred ruins lay what remained of anold-fashioned farmhouse and barn that had stood there for years. Thefire had burned itself out, except here and there where glowing coalsshowed themselves. Only two blackened timbers remained standing. And inthis picture of devastation, looking the most lonesome and patheticfigure in the world, wandered the tiniest, most old-fashioned andmotherly looking woman the lads had ever seen. 

She seemed all but distracted with her misery, for she went aboutwringing her hands and sobbing as if her heart were broken. Here andthere she picked her way, peering into the smoking ashes and now and thenpoking among them for a trinket or a keepsake that the fire had onlyblackened. It was a pathetic sight indeed, and the sturdy scouts allfelt heavy hearted as they watched her. 

Finally Bruce left the group and went toward her. Then for the firsttime the little woman looked up, startled at first. But when she saw theuniforms the lads wore she was no longer frightened. In truth, sheseemed to welcome them as the only sympathetic human beings she had seento whom she could tell her woes. 

"Oh, boys, boys, it's gone, all, all gone. Look--my old home all inruins. Oh, dear! oh, dear! I'm so miserable. What shall I ever do?Why should this be taken from me, too? They took--they tookher--her--and, oh, dear! oh, dear! what shall I do?" she cried. 

Bruce put his hands out to comfort her as best he could and the littlelady came toward him and laid her head upon his chest, sobbing as if herheart was broken. But the all-night strain on one so old had been toogreat and presently she became very quiet, so quiet indeed that Brucebecame frightened and looked down into her face. And instantly herealized that she was completely worn out. 

"Here, fellows, " he called in a business-like tone, "the poor old lady isall in. We must take her to town and get her into the hospital. Come, fellows, quickly now. You, Jiminy, and Nipper, make a coatstretcher--cut some staffs--strong ones. The three of us will take herback to town. The rest of you fellows go after the Christmas tree. Butfirst lend us a jacket or a sweater or two to bundle the old lady in. "

In a twinkle the scouts were busy. Staffs were cut, the stretcherconstructed and old Nanny made comfortable with extra coats and sweatersthat the more warmly clad scouts could spare. Then, as the three ladsstarted townward, Bruce shouted:

"Hi, Bud, see that you get a whopping big tree. A thirty footer, if youcan. We'll be back in an hour or so to help you. So long. "

Crisp weather and an additional snowstorm during the week that precededthe holidays gave the youngsters of the Vermont town full assurance of awhite Christmas. And they would have been mightily disappointed lads ifsuch had not been the case, for what would a Community Christmascelebration and a town Christmas tree be like without snow everywhere?It was good packing snow, too, as numerous snow fights at noon time, onthe academy campus, attested. 

But, aside from these noon-day diversions, the Quarry Scouts had littletime to indulge in Winter sports that week. The hills about town werejust right for coasting and the broad Champlain Valley stretched northand south to be explored on snowshoes, skis, and with sleigh-ridingparties, but the scouts could not find time to enjoy these opportunities. Rather, they found their fun in anticipating a good time afterChristmas, providing the snow lasted, for they had work to do. There wasthe big Christmas tree to be erected and trimmed. 

It was a monster tree. Thirty-two feet from base to tip, and as it laythere in front of the town hall waiting to be elevated into position, itcommanded the admiration of the whole town. Thursday afternoon, afterthe carpenters had finished a big platform and grandstand, the ladserected timber shears and block and tackle and set the tree into place inthe very center of the pavilion, which was to accommodate the mayor, townofficials, visitors, the orchestra and a host of school children who wereto sing carols. 

"Wow, it looks great, " said Nipper Knapp, surveying the tall fir proudly, "and won't it look corking after we get it all trimmed to-morrowafternoon?"

"Yes, but mind you, fellows, we'll have to work like everythingto-morrow. All the wiring has to be strung and all the lights put onbetween one o'clock in the afternoon and half past four. It'll be somejob, " said Bud Weir. 

"You're right it will, " said Bruce, "thank goodness we have everythingshipshape up at headquarters to get a good start. There's more thanenough wire in the lot Mr. Ford sent over. And I guess we must have puton about three thousand lamp sockets during the last few days, haven'twe?"

"Two thousand and eighty-seven, " corrected Romper, "and it's a good thingschool lets out at noon to-morrow. "

"It'll be a sight for sore eyes. Say, fellows, I'll tell you what. Let's bring old Nanny Haskell down and give her a seat on the visitors'stand. I guess Mr. Ford could arrange that for us. It might cheer thepoor old soul up a little. How is she to-day? Any one been up to thehospital?"

"Sure, Romper and I were up there. She's all well and ready to leave, but the poor thing hasn't any place to go to, it seems. She's bluer thanall git out, too. Jiminy, but I feel sorry for her, " said Jiminy Gordon. 

"Well, then, by gollies! we'll see if we can't make her happy onChristmas Eve at least. We'll have her all bundled up and bring her downhere. Listening to the kids sing and all the fun and things might helpher spirit a little. "

"Fine idea, if she'll come, " said Bruce. 

"Oh, we'll arrange that, all right, I think, " replied Romper. "I'll goup to the hospital to-morrow. Perhaps Mr. Ford will go along, and we cantalk it over with Doctor Bassett. "

"Good enough; I'll go with you. And now let's go home and get somesupper, fellows. It's getting dark, " said Bruce. And presently thescouts were tramping off through the snowy Winter twilight to theirrespective homes. 

Fortunately, Mr. Clifford allowed Bruce the use of Blossom, his big blacktrotting horse, and a light box sleigh, or otherwise the lads would havehad to make a dozen trips up the steep, snow-covered Otter Hill toheadquarters to get their coils of wire and boxes of lamps to town nextday. 

As it was, the spirited animal had to haul three sleigh-loads ofequipment to the Town Hall before the scouts could even start the task ofdecorating. As soon as the coils of wire arrived a dozen scouts began toswarm the big Christmas tree, looping the wires from branch to branch andfastening them securely. Other scouts followed in their wake and screwedred, white and blue, green and yellow lamps into the vacant sockets. Andwhile all this was going on, a crew of linemen and meter-setters from thelocal electric light company were running an extension, or service line, from the nearest street wires, for the electric company had promised tofurnish current free for the evening's celebration. 

The square was a very busy place for several hours that afternoon, andevery one was working with a will for he realized that he must befinished before dusk came. By half past three, however, the scouts foundthat they could ease up a little for, with the arrival of one more loadof colored lamps from headquarters, the tree would be thoroughlydecorated even to the shining electrically illuminated star on top whichJiminy Gordon placed there with the help of an extra long ladder. 

"Whoope-e-e! almost through. Don't it look fine, eh? And here comesBruce with the last load of lamps. Come on, fellows, and help unload thesleigh, " shouted Bud Weir as Jiminy finally reached the ground after hehad finished wiring the big star in place. 

"Right-o-o! and last man to the curb is no good, " shouted Nipper Knapp, starting to run. Next moment there was a scurry of scouts through thesnow that covered the square and a pell-mell race to the curb where Brucedrew up the panting Blossom with a jingle of bells and a shower ofpowdery snow. 

"Whoa there, Blossom, " he shouted. Then to the scouts, "Come on, youduffers, and get these things unloaded. I want to get the horse into thestable so I can do some work, too. "

The "duffers" arrived with a rush and in a twinkle the boxes were beingremoved from the sleigh in a manner quite violent, and this to theimminent peril of the contents. 

"Hi, not so bloomin' reckless, " shouted Bruce, "don't smash 'em, whateveryou do. They are the last colored lamps in town and we need 'em. And, say--listen--what's the fuss up the street? Hear 'em shoutin'? Gee, it's a runaway an' here it comes--no--no--it's going to turn down HighStreet toward the railroad--an'--cracky! fellows, there's a freightpulling out of the siding! See the smoke! And there's a woman and agirl in the cutter! Wow! Look at those chumps up the street shoutin'and wavin' their arms. That's no way to stop a horse! Those women willbe killed. Hi, Bud, hop in here. Come on, we've got to stop 'em. I'mgoin' after 'em with Blossom. Geet_yap_ there, Blossom. Git, now, that'st' girl. Go!"

There could be no mistaking the fact that the horse and cutter comingdown the street was a runaway. The big animal was almost mad withfright. His eyes bulged out until the whites showed and its nostrilswere distended with fear. And, to make matters worse, there were a dozenmen and boys shouting and waving their hands in a foolish effort to stopthe horse. But all that they accomplished was to make the animal stillmore frightened. 

Fortunately, Bud's mind acted as quickly as Bruce's. He came into thesleigh with a bound, but almost before he landed Bruce had Blossom underway. Just a touch of the whip was all that was needed and the nervoustrotter shot forward like a flash of lightning. A moment later she was ajet black streak flying toward the corner of High Street around which therunaway cutter had just disappeared. 

Almost in the wink of an eye Blossom reached the corner and swept aroundit at a gallop while the sleigh careened first on one runner and thenupon the other, each time on the brink of turning over and pitching itsoccupants into the snowbanks that lined the road. But the scouts gave noheed to this. All their attention was on the flying cutter a hundredyards ahead and upon the railroad crossing half a mile down the road. The freight train had left the siding, and at the moment the scoutsrounded the corner she was chugging her way slowly toward the crossing. Of course, the gates were down but this only added to the peril. Therunaway horse was blind with fright. He would plunge into the gates, tear through them and probably kill himself and the women in the sleighby dashing headlong into the freight train. 

"Go it, Bruce, go it. We _must_ save them. They'll be killed if wedon't, " cried the half frantic Bud. 

And Bruce, pale of face but determined, cut Blossom with the whip to urgeher forward. Rarely was the trotter treated that way and when the cutcame she leapt forward like a deer. Then her racing instinct seemed tocome back to her. She knew what was wanted. The horse ahead must bepassed. She stretched her long legs to their utmost and the pace she setmade the light sleigh pitch and rock like a ship in a gale. Bruce neverused the whip again. Indeed, he tossed it into the road, for he mustneeds use two hands to govern the flying horse. 

The animal ahead was flying, too, and it was a question for a few momentswhether the scouts could make up the distance. But Blossom was at herbest. Faster and faster she went while town folk stood on the sidewalkand gaped in amazement at the pace she held. The hundred yard lead wascut down to fifty, now to forty, thirty-five, thirty. Bruce and Budcould see the look of terror on the faces of the girl and the woman inthe cutter. Also they could see the reason for the accident. The reinshad parted and one short length dangled over the horse's side and slappedhim continually on the ribs while the longer section dragged under thecutter. 

"We'll make it, Bud, we'll make it. We've _got_ to make it. I'll drivelike mad. We'll start to pass them and I'll run Blossom as close as Idare and then when we get abreast of the horse you hang out upon therunning-board, and jump for the shafts of the cutter. Get astride thehorse's back and grab those reins. Get ready, Bud! Out on therunning-board, now! Hurry!" cried Bruce. 

Blossom was drawing abreast of the cutter. Bud clung to therunning-board and crouched for a spring. 

"Go it, Blossom, " cried Bruce. "Good old girl, go it. Go on, go on. Get ready, Bud--steady--ready now--_jump_!"

Bud reached far out and leaped. One foot struck the shafts. He threwhimself forward and grasped the runaway's mane and in an instant he hadswung himself astride the horse's back. For a moment all that he coulddo was cling to the swaying animal And when the horse felt the extraweight drop upon him he bounded forward like a stag uttering a shrillwhinny of fear. 

For a fleeting moment the lad thought of the peril of his position. Butwhen he recalled that the lives of two women depended upon him, he becameactive. Reaching forward he grasped the broken line and the long one andforced the bit home into the horse's mouth. The animal snorted andplunged. Bud pulled back again. The runaway reared and pawed the air, snorting and shaking its massive bead. "Whoa, " cried the scout, "whoa, boy, steady now, " and it seemed as if the animal recognized the authorityin his command for the next time the lad reined in the panic-strickenhorse slowed up and presently came to a complete standstill and stoodtrembling like a leaf. 

Then, when the scout looked up for the first time, there, not twentyyards away, was the railroad crossing, with the freight train rumblingslowly by. 

"Fine work, Bud, fine, " cried Bruce, who had pulled in on Blossom themoment the scout had jumped from the sleigh. "Fine work, and--and--gee! but it was a narrow escape. "

Indeed it had been a narrow escape. Bud realized it as well as Bruce. And so did the woman and the little girl in the cutter, for their faceswere white and they hardly had strength enough left to step from thecutter when Bruce tried to assist them. 

"Goodness me, what a day--what a day, " said the woman, trembling withnervousness. And when the little girl heard this she began to cry. 

"Oh, mother, I'm unhappy, too, " she wept. "Poor Nanny, poor Nanny, justthink she's been burned to death, and all because you and father sent meto school last September. Oh, mother, mother, it's terrible. And thenthe horse acting up like that. I--I--oh, Mr. --er--Mr. Boy Scout, do youknow anything about old Nanny--Nanny Haskell? She was my dear nurse. Last Fall she left our house in St. Cloud because my father and mothersent me to school down in Boston. She--she--oh, dear!--she said shewouldn't live in St. Cloud without me, because she would be toolonesome, so she came back to her old farm in the woods here, where shehadn't been for ten years, and--now--oh, dear! oh, dear;--it burneddown--and--Nanny must have been burned to death. "

"Why--why--no--no, she wasn't burned to death, " said Bruce, when he fullyunderstood, "she--she--why she's over in the Woodbridge hospital. Thatbig building over there on Willow Street. We found her and took herthere, and she wasn't a bit hurt, only sick, that's all. "

"What! is she alive--really--honest--Nanny Haskell--boy, you're sure?"cried the woman excitedly. "We--we--came over to-day to get her andbring her back to St. Cloud. We wanted to tell her that Genevieve hadcome home from Boston to stay, and that we wanted her to come back withus on Christmas Eve and live with us for good. Are you sure--?"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure. I helped bring her into town, " said Bruce. 

"Then come, mother, come. I must see old Nanny and cheer her up. Theboys will take care of the horse and put him in a stable. Won't you, boys?" said Genevieve, excitedly. 

"Sure--Bud will fix the reins and drive him to the hotel stable. Comeinto my sleigh and I'll take you to the hospital, " said Bruce. 

A cold wind was driving powdery flakes out of the darkness overhead whenthe Woodbridge town folk began to gather in the square to celebrate theirfirst community Christmas. The scouts were there early, for, besides thefact that several of them had the task of taking care of the electricswitches that controlled the lights on the big tree, the rest of thetroop had been delegated to police the square. 

The ceremonies were supposed to begin at eight o'clock, but by half-pastseven the big platform was filled with visitors, officials and prominenttownsmen. The orchestra had arrived, too, and taken its place, and thechorus of four hundred school children stood waiting, song books in hand. The big square was literally jammed by joyous men and women andshivering, though none the less enthusiastic, youngsters. And over thesethousand or more silence reigned and every eye was fastened on the tallsomber looking tree. 

Then came the signal from the Mayor. The next moment the orchestraleader swung his baton and the orchestra rang forth. Simultaneously thevoices of the children took up the opening bars of a good old EnglishChristmas carol. This was the cue the four scouts at the switches werewaiting for. One by one they jammed the tiny rubber covered connectionshome and in circuits of eight and twelve, the colored lamps on the greattree began to twinkle until it was a blaze of glory from the lowermostbranches to the great glittering star on the top. 

What a wave of applause greeted this illumination. Then some one in thethrong took up the carol the children were singing and in a momentthousands of throats were pouring forth the happiness of Yuletide. Thepeople's enthusiasm seemed boundless. 

But though the lights of the great tree revealed joyous countenanceseverywhere, the scouts could single out three in the group on theplatform that seemed far happier than the rest. In truth, tears of joywere coursing down old Nanny Haskell's cheeks as she sat there huggingthe form of Genevieve to her and listening to the rejoicing of the vastthrong. And close beside them, her arm about the old nurse's shoulder, sat a very happy mother. 

All through the ceremonies they stayed, lingering even till the lights onthe big tree began to go out in groups. And when the star on the top, after a preliminary wink, went dark too, they turned and made their wayslowly across the square to where their cutter, a hired driver in theseat, stood waiting. 

"Well, fellows, " said Bruce, as with a jingle of bells the sleigh startedin the direction of St. Cloud City, "I guess old Nanny's Christmas won'tbe such a sad one after all, thanks to Bud, here. "

And then with boisterous shouts of "Merry Christmas, everybody, " thescouts all started for home. 

The End