THE BOY SCOUTS
OF THE
NAVAL RESERVE

BY
SCOUT MASTER ROBERT SHALER

AUTHOR OF “THE BOY SCOUTS OF THE SIGNAL CORPS,” “THE BOY SCOUTS OF PIONEER CAMP,” “THE BOY SCOUTS OF THE GEOLOGICAL SURVEY,” “THE BOY SCOUTS ON PICKET DUTY,” ETC., ETC.

NEW YORK
HURST & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS

CHAPTER PAGE I. [The Trail Up Cedar Hill] 5 II. [Scout Tactics] 18 III. [The Dancing Bear] 31 IV. [The Tracking Game] 44 V. [A Scout Ambulance] 57 VI. [Billy’s Lucky Jinx] 70 VII. [“All Aboard!”] 84 VIII. [Afloat with the Naval Militia] 97 IX. [The Night Landing of the Scouts] 110 X. [Establishing the Signal Relay] 123 XI. [A Temptation and a Victory] 136 XII. [With the Battleship Squadron] 149

The Boy Scouts of the Naval Reserve.

CHAPTER I.
THE TRAIL UP CEDAR HILL.

“How-oo-ooo!”

This weird sound, supposed to be very much like the mournful howl of the timber wolf heard on a wintry night in the wilderness, caused the boy on the bicycle to laugh softly to himself as he looked up.

After running an errand for his mother to one of the farmers’ wives, he had been pedaling carelessly along up the dusty road.

A couple of fellows of about his own age, one of whom was inclined to be rather stout, were coming along a side road, making frantic motions for him to wait until they arrived; the boy chuckled again.

“Seems like Billy is getting that signal cry of the Wolf Patrol down pretty pat,” he told himself, as he dropped off his wheel at the junction of the two roads to await the arrival of his friends, both of whom wore the well-known khaki uniforms of the scouts, just as the lone rider did.

A minute later and they, too, dismounted, one gracefully, and the other with the awkwardness that usually accompanies the heavy-weight boy. Both of them were apparently pleased at having run across their comrade at just that particular time.

“Hello! Hugh!” called out the stout boy, “we stopped in at your house, and they told us you’d gone out to Farmer Benton’s on an errand for your mother. So Arthur said we might run across you heading for home, which we sure have done.”

“That’s right, Chief,” added the more slender lad who had been called Arthur. “We want you to come along with us and pass judgment on my contraption of a wireless outfit that I’ve rigged out up on Cedar Hill. I finished the work yesterday morning, and meant to get some of you fellows up there in the afternoon, but things kept on happening over at our house one after the other, till it was too late to bother. You’ll go along, I hope, Chief?”

These three lads were all members of the well-known Wolf Patrol of the local troop of Boy Scouts. They had been chiefly instrumental in starting the popular movement in town; and had passed through many rather remarkable scenes in common, most of which have been described at length in previous stories of the Series.

Hugh Hardin had early been made the patrol leader, and when the assistant scout master of the troop had lately been compelled to resign, Hugh, as the most popular fellow among the scouts, had been elected to take his place. It is necessary that the boy who would take upon himself the responsibility of being an assistant scout master should above all be a first-class scout; secondly, he must be elected to the office by his mates; and last of all be recommended by the chief scout officers of that district. Only when these conditions have been met will the coveted certificate be sent out from Boy Scout Headquarters in New York City.

Hugh had received approval some weeks before, and a few of the boys had come to calling him “Chief” when off by themselves for a good time. Of course, when the regular scout master, Lieutenant Denmead, a retired United States army officer, was along, Hugh would expect to be treated with the same courtesy that was extended to that gentleman, and insist upon the usual scout salute at meeting.

Billy Worth had always been a great admirer and chum of Hugh. He believed the other to be the best all-round boy in that whole country. Consequently he had seemed more concerned than Hugh himself when Alec Sands, the son of the rich railroad magnate, and in many ways a spoiled boy, had on various occasions tried to get the better of Hugh. Alec was the leader of the wideawake Otter Patrol, a clever scout, and with a small following of his own; but he was none too popular among the members of the Fox and Hawk patrols. This had accounted for his failure to be elected to the office of assistant scout master at the time he and Hugh locked horns while running for the position.

Arthur Cameron had been the last one to join the Wolf Patrol, completing its roster of eight members, and for some time he had been called the “tenderfoot.” Hugh, however, managed to arouse his interest in the wonderful secrets of Nature a scout who keeps his eyes and ears wide open may learn, especially when in the woods. From that day on Arthur had striven to perfect himself in the knowledge of those things which a boy must know in order to climb the ladder of scout preferment.

Arthur had after a while become a second-class scout, and only at the last meeting of the troop he had been listed in the proud rank of those who were entitled to wear the full official badge, denoting that they were in the first division. The Wolf Patrol now had no tenderfoot and only three second-class scouts. Hugh hoped that in due time even these laggards would arouse themselves and show ambition to pluck the fruit from the tree of knowledge that was within such easy reach.

When Arthur made his appeal, Hugh looked a little thoughtful; the other boys at the same time showed signs of more or less eagerness. Hugh’s opinion was worth considerable to Arthur. While perhaps the patrol leader did not know half as much about the intricate details connected with a wireless outfit as Arthur himself, at the same time he could always grasp things in a broad way, and make valuable suggestions that others might profit by.

“Well, I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t turn around and take a little spin up there with you boys,” Hugh announced, presently. “I’ve done the errand for my mother, and have one of Mrs. Benton’s good yeast cakes in my pocket. She wants my mother to try a loaf of her morning’s baking. It’s tied to the handle bars of my wheel. But there’s no need of my hurrying back home because mother doesn’t mean to use the yeast till to-morrow, anyhow. All right, Arthur, I’ll go along. I’m mighty much interested in this scheme of yours. Perhaps after all, if the wireless works, and we get in touch with you while along the coast, you’ll have nearly as much fun staying home here as the lucky scouts who accompany the Naval Reserve on their maneuvering cruise aboard the scout cruiser, Vixen.”

“Glad to hear you say so, Hugh,” said the other, flushing with pleasure. “I was away down in the dumps when I found that I hadn’t a look-in on that trip. It was Billy here who asked why I didn’t finish that wireless I’d started up on the top of Cedar Hill. He said what was the harm in my trying to pick up messages you fellows would send out from time to time while aboard the scout cruiser, practicing all sorts of things, just as though there was a regular war on between the United States and some foreign power, Japan for instance. And now she’s ready for business. Let’s be off. If you say my outfit works fairly decent I’ll be feeling fifty per cent. better. It’s awful to see my chums going away on such a picnic, while I have to stay home.”

“Huh!” grunted Billy, as he threw a plump leg over his saddle and prepared to begin pedaling, “what about poor me? I came in third on the list when only two in a patrol could go. Just missed being a favored son by a hair’s breadth. I nearly swooned when I saw what a narrow escape I’d had from getting to go on the dandiest trip that ever came down the pike. I’m getting as thin as a rail peeving about my hard luck. By the time you fellows come back, Hugh, I’ll be fit to enter a freak museum under the name of a Living Skeleton.”

“Like fun you will,” jeered Arthur, who knew Billy like a book. “I notice that you’re just as fond of eating and sleeping as ever. No fellow who can do the stunts along those lines that you’re capable of is going to lose flesh. Don’t ever worry about Billy, Hugh. He may feel bad about not going, but all the same, mark my words, he’ll have a good time at home. He always carries the sunshine with him.”

And indeed that was about the truth, for Billy could joke and make merry when many of his mates were pulling long faces over the troubles that pressed thick and fast upon the patrol. It was his nature to be happy and jolly; he could not help radiating sunshine all the time.

They sped along the road, gradually getting to where the woods came down on either side, and elevations could be seen close by. The particular place which the amateur wireless operator had chosen as the site for his exploits in constructing his masts and aerials was known as Cedar Hill. It chanced to be a bit of the extensive property which the Camerons owned up in this region; which possibly was one reason Arthur had chosen it. He could lop off branches from such trees as he wanted to use without danger of being taken to task by some irate farmer, who might seriously object to destruction of valuable cedars.

There was quite a dense woods leading up to the crown of the hill and the boys would of course have to abandon their wheels down by the road.

“I guess I’d better take this precious home-made loaf of bread along with me,” Hugh said as they thrust their bicycles in among the bushes near by. “It’s got such a fine smell of baking about it that some wandering hog might find it out. Wouldn’t I be mad clear through to get back here and find it gone!”

“Say, that does go right to the spot,” remarked Billy as he leaned over to sniff at the paper-covered package. “If we should happen to get lost now, like the babes in the wood, why that same bully loaf’d keep us from starving to death. Any danger of your losing the trail, Arthur?”

“Well, I’ve been up here so often that I’ve marked it pretty well,” replied the other laughingly. “Suppose you lead the way, Billy, while I talk with the Chief.”

“Sure I will,” Billy sang out cheerfully. “Always willing to be a victim. Anything to oblige, boys. ‘Walk this way,’ please, as the bow-legged salesman said to the haughty lady, before he started to show her through the store. What impertinence! I should say you had worn a plain trail, Arthur. A greenhorn could follow it in and out, past logs, and around holes. You had your Injun woodcraft down fine when you laid this out.”

Unconsciously the two who were engaged in some serious conversation, lagged more or less, though perhaps it was Billy, anxious to reach the crown of Cedar Hill, who displayed an unwonted animation in ascending the rather steep rise, and see what the final result of the other scout’s labors had been.

Once or twice Hugh—glancing up—saw that Billy had passed from sight, though he could still be heard clambering through the brush beyond. Occasionally some exclamation told that he might have clumsily stumbled over a root or a clinging vine. They were all of two-thirds of the way up when there came a sudden shriek from Billy that made the other boys stop short and look startled. Billy, however, was so prone to play practical jokes that no one knew how to take him. He could be plainly heard tearing headlong down the face of the wooded hill, and in a few seconds came panting back, his usually florid face white with sudden fear.

“What ails you, Billy?” demanded Hugh, puzzled to account for his actions.

“Seen a garter snake, did you, Billy?” jeered Arthur. “Oh! plenty of that kind around here, but they can’t hurt you. Thought it was a rattler, now, I bet you?”

“It’s a b-e-a-r—a great big black bear ’bout ten feet tall, and standin’ on his hind legs awaitin’ to hug a feller to death!” came from the white lips of the scout who had led the van of the trail followers.

CHAPTER II.
SCOUT TACTICS.

Hugh had known Billy Worth to be addicted to playing practical jokes on many occasions, but he was really puzzled to guess the truth when the other so loudly declared he had met with a bear on the trail above.

There were a number of small wild animals still to be found in that section of the country. Hugh himself had met with a ferocious wildcat on one of the camping trips of the troop up at Pioneer Lake, but such a thing as a black bear had not been seen by any one for many years.

Billy was certainly not playing a part, Hugh quickly decided. The patrol leader had thrown out an arm, so as to block the passage and prevent Billy from continuing his mad flight, for he gave evidences of being inclined that way. He kept looking back along the hill trail as though fully anticipating seeing a huge hairy monster suddenly loom up. He stood ready to break away and once more dash down toward the road to the place where the bicycles had been left.

Arthur, though not free from a touch of panic himself, began to suspect that it was all a humbug. He turned on Billy and scornfully demanded:

“Show us your old bear, can’t you? March him up and let’s look him in the eye! I reckon that you’re trying to rattle your boon companions, that’s what you’re up to, Billy Worth. It don’t go, and you might as well call it off.”

Billy began to get a grip on himself, for there is nothing like derision to bring a boy to his proper senses. He straightened up, and a tinge of color came back into his plump cheeks as he retorted:

“If you don’t believe me—let’s see you go right along up there, that’s all! Let me tell you this, Arthur Cameron, if you’ll agree to walk straight along this same trail right up to your old wireless fixing on top of Cedar Hill, I’ll—yes, I’ll agree to give you that hunting knife of mine you asked me to trade for your spare compass. Get that, do you? And I’m safe in making the offer, too, because I know you’ll get the rattles as bad as I did just as soon as you set eyes on that terrible monster!”

Hugh was still studying the other. He wondered what it could have been that Billy had really seen to alarm him so much. As a rule the other scout was not given to wild imaginings like several other boys connected with the troop whom Hugh knew very well. On the contrary Billy had generally shown a steadiness much to his credit; he was matter-of-fact and not often given to romancing.

“This thing has gone far enough, Billy,” he said sternly.

“I know you don’t believe what I say, Chief,” complained the other, “but I’m going to raise my hand, and on the honor of a scout say once more that I did really and truly see a bear!”

“Well, let it go at that,” said Hugh. “We’ll believe that you thought you saw some sort of thing that looked like a bear. I’ve known fellows who saw ghosts and believed it as much as they could anything, till it was proven that the moving white object was a pillow-slip left out on the clothes line, floating up and down in the soft night air. Sometimes in the dim woods a stump can look mighty like a big black bear, I’m told.”

“P’raps that’s all true enough, Hugh,” persisted the other, “but when you see it rear up on its hind legs, and start at you—that looks different, don’t it?” demanded the other.

“Oh! then it moved, did it? actually got up on its hind legs and wanted to give you the high sign?” jeered Arthur still unconvinced. “Well, that’s what you get for belonging to the Wolf Patrol. This wonderful bear thought you might be his own cousin. He meant to shake hands with you, Billy.”

Billy shrugged his broad shoulders. Though still looking a little anxious, he was no longer white in the face. This scepticism on the part of Arthur had the good effect of arousing what was combative in his jolly nature, and putting fresh courage in his boyish heart.

“Well,” he went on to say resolutely, “I can see that you’ll never be satisfied till you meet up with that bear for yourself, Arthur. So s’pose you hike out. We’ll follow after you. I dare you to, get that?”

No boy can easily stand being put on his mettle. With quaking heart many a lad has started into a country churchyard on a dark night or in some other such reckless venture just because his mates have given him the “dare.”

Arthur gave a quick look up the trail. So far as he could see, there did not appear to be anything amiss in that direction. Surely if a hungry bear did lurk near by he would have been apt to show himself ere this.

So Arthur, feeling that he had gone too far now to show the white feather, threw out his chest, and stepped ahead of the other two.

“All right, you watch me show you up for the biggest fakir going, Billy,” he remarked with all the firmness he could command. “I’ve passed up and down along the same trail dozens of times, and if there’d been such a thing as a bear around—well, wouldn’t I be apt to know it? Guess I would. Now, I’ve seen a fox once, a little red fox; likewise a skunk that I gave a wide berth to. There was a rabbit that used to jump out of the bushes every single day, sometimes giving me a start, if I happened to be thinking hard and forgot about it. Wonder whether anybody could make out one of those to be a bear!”

“Oh! go on and climb, that’s all,” chuckled the confident Billy. “You’ll see if I’ve got magnifiers in my eyes this time.”

“And what if we don’t see your bear?” asked Arthur. He started rather slowly to mount the trail, keeping a bright lookout ahead, which caution rather belied his confident way of expressing his disbelief.

“You will, all right,” replied the other from behind Hugh. “Even if he’s dusted out, can’t we look for his tracks? What’s the use of being scouts if we aren’t able to tell what the marks of a bear’s paw and claws look like?”

Arthur did not reply in words. He did cast a quick glance over his shoulder, however, which may have been simply to make sure his chums were close at his heels, though Hugh rather suspected the leader to be desirous of making certain that there was a clear field for flight open to him in case of necessity. Caution as well as valor is a part of a scout’s education, and he who is wise will always know of a way for retreat though scorning to make use of the same.

Billy in the rear was evidently very much in earnest. Hugh could hear him breathing hard, as if his excitement were returning in full force the closer they drew to the place where he had met his recent alarming adventure.

Although he could not believe it possible that Billy had actually seen such a thing as a bear, still Hugh confessed to feeling considerable curiosity himself in the matter. He had already made up his mind that it would turn out to be some old stump that stood in a rather dark and gloomy spot. Perhaps a squirrel had run up the stump, frightened by the sudden appearance of the boy, and this movement, coupled with the queer appearance of the remnant of a tree, had given Billy his scare.

Well, they would soon know what it might have been. Arthur was steadily advancing up the hillside, none too swiftly it must be confessed. He had apparently remembered all he had ever learned about the habits of a real scout when passing through lonely woods where dangers were apt to lurk, for it could be seen that he was turning his head to the right and to the left from time to time, as if determined that nothing should escape his observation.

“Listen! didn’t you hear something that sounded like a whine?” asked Billy from his position of safety in the rear.

It might have been just like him to try and add to the nervousness of the scout who led the van, but Hugh knew that this was not so; he too had caught some sort of odd sound at the same time that the other spoke so thrillingly. As for Arthur, he stopped short.

“What could that have been, Hugh?” he asked anxiously, while the satisfied Billy actually began to chuckle with glee at seeing the doubting one begin to show signs of wavering.

“I couldn’t say, Arthur,” replied the scout master promptly. “Some sort of animal made it. I should think even a fox could bark loud enough for that, or a weasel snarl because he was bothered while feeding. Want me to lead off, Arthur?”

Perhaps the boy would have been glad of the chance to say yes, but knowing how Billy would exult at his sudden change of heart he shut his teeth hard together and merely replied:

“Well, I should say not, Hugh. I don’t make out to be the bravest scout in the troop in the Wolf Patrol, but I hope I am not ready to lie down and crawl just because I happen to hear a silly old whine. Chances are it’s some dog that’s been digging out a rabbit burrow up here and wants to let us know he’s on deck. Come on, both of you, and let’s see what’s up.”

With that Arthur resumed his upward progress, covering foot after foot, continuing his careful survey ahead. Hugh was really proud of the way the late “tenderfoot” managed to carry on the lead so successfully; even under the exciting conditions the scout master could pay attention to such things, since they concerned his duties as instructor.

“Just a little further, Arthur, and you’ll turn that sharp bend,” almost whispered Billy, pressing up against Hugh in his intense eagerness to see what would happen. “Oh! there was that whine again, Hugh! Mebbe you’ll believe me after a bit. Mebbe you’ll give me credit for havin’ eyes in my head! Steady now, old wireless! A few more steps, and you’re bound to strike something or I’ll eat my hat!”

This sort of talk was well calculated to increase the manifest nervousness of Arthur, but he was at least game to the backbone, not dreaming of showing the white feather, the thing above all others that any ordinary boy dreads to do.

Hugh pressed a little closer to the leader. He wanted to be on hand for what was going to happen, no matter whether this turned out to be along tragic or comical lines. And besides, Arthur was visibly trembling, as though he needed some strong arm to back him up. If he felt Hugh touching his elbow it would doubtless afford him more or less comfort.

Then Arthur, with set jaws, summoning all his resolution to the fore, made the last step needed to take him around that bend in the trail where the tall bushes seemed to shut out what lay beyond.

No sooner had he done so than he seemed to be changed into stone, for he stood there like a statue carved out of marble, staring at something that lay just beyond. Billy came pushing up just in time to hear the pilot of the expedition gasp:

“Look! look, Hugh! Is that really a bear, or am I seeing things I shouldn’t?”

When the scout master had taken a second look he made a discovery that seemed to afford him more or less satisfaction, for he immediately called out:

“It’s a live bear, all right, Arthur. Billy wasn’t dreaming, it seems. Look closer and you’ll find that the poor thing is tied to that tree with a rope; and chances are it’s the performing bear I heard was over at Salem last week!”

At that both of the other boys breathed freely once more. Billy puffed out his chest, filled with pride because his astonishing declaration had at least been proven true.

CHAPTER III.
THE DANCING BEAR.

“But it is a bear all right, isn’t it?” Billy was saying with evident satisfaction, “and you’ll have to take back all you said about my being so scared ’cause I saw a whole lot of things that never could happen, Arthur. Mebbe there aren’t any wild bears a-roamin’ around these parts any more, but I did see a hairy monster, didn’t I? And when I told you he reared up on his hind legs and made like he wanted to dance with me, I wasn’t yarning, you see. Huh! next time you won’t be so ready to make out I’m a fakir. Magnifying a stump into a live beast! Whew! look at him stretching right now, will you? What are you meaning to do, Hugh?”

The patrol leader had started toward the imprisoned bear, causing Billy to ask this last question.

“Why, I wonder where his master can be?” Hugh Hardin readily observed, his curiosity aroused afresh.

“Oh! taking a good long sleep somewhere in the bushes around most likely,” Billy remarked unconcernedly. “You know the breed all right, fellows. They’re as cruel a bunch as you’d find anywhere. I reckon this poor thing’s got heaps and heaps of big welts under his hair from being whipped when he wouldn’t feel like dancing, his pole held in his forepaws. I’ve watched ’em do it.”

All of them now approached the bear more closely. The animal did not seem to be of the common black American variety, but had a sort of cinnamon hue.

“I think they bring them over from Russia, down along some part of the Caucasus or Ural Mountains,” Hugh was saying as the shaggy beast, still standing erect on its haunches, started to make those queer whining sounds again.

“What d’ye reckon the old thing means by that, Hugh?” asked Arthur.

“And look at the way he keeps working his mouth, will you?” added Billy. “Tell you what, I think he must be hungry! He smells that fine loaf of bread you’ve got under your arm, Chief. Better give it to the poor beggar. Look at him putting out his tongue, and slathering his lips. He’s sure begging for something.”

“I think I know what he wants most of all,” said Hugh. “You can see from the way the ground’s torn up around that he must have been tied here all night.”

“Whew! that would be tough on the poor thing, wouldn’t it?” declared Billy, who had a tender heart and could not bear to see any beast or bird suffer when it lay in his power to change things for the better.

“He wants a drink of water the worst kind, boys,” continued the patrol leader.

“And I know of a fine little spring not five minutes’ walk away from here, too. I’ve often stepped over there when working at my wireless to get a cold drink,” Arthur hastened to remark.

“You’re elected then unanimously, seeing that you’re the only one that knows where the water tank lies,” Billy told him.

“Elected to what?” demanded the other scout.

“Why to lead the poor old bear to his drink,” Billy went on to say, without betraying the least sign of humor in his round face. “Step right up and unfasten that greasy rope, Arthur, while I stand by this tree ready to climb, if so be he breaks away and comes my way. He keeps on looking at me like he thought I was good enough to eat. That’s the trouble with being nice and plump. But what ails you, Chum Arthur? I don’t see you jumping forward to pat our hairy brother and tell him his troubles are all over, since you’ve come along.”

“Hugh! what are we going to do about it?” Arthur asked, turning from his tormentor toward the scout master.

“If you lead the way, I’ll go along with you to that spring,” replied the other quietly. “We might fill our hats and perhaps that’ll be enough. I never saw a bear drink water, but in hot summer weather I should think they’d want it as well as any other animal. Come along, Arthur.”

Billy seemed in doubt whether to offer to accompany his comrades or remain there. He did not altogether like the idea of finding himself left alone with the bear. The rope looked thin and worn, and might break. So as soon as the others had departed, and he could hear their voices growing fainter as they hurried on toward Arthur’s pet spring, Billy proceeded to climb the tree against which he had been leaning.

“Gives a fellow a better outlook, for one thing,” he told himself, as he straddled the lower limb, “and then in case the sly old rascal did break loose, why I’d have a halfway chance to kick at him, and keep him down below till they came back and Hugh tied him up again. Scouts should be cautious as well as brave; that’s always been my motto. There, Hugh went and left that loaf of bread when he took Arthur with him to get the water. See that bear sniffing as hard as anything, would you? One thing sure, if he did break loose he’d start in to gobble that bread, and let me alone.”

Listening he could hear the other two talking some little distance away. It was from this that Billy judged they had arrived at the spring, and were proceeding to fill their campaign hats. Although this idea of Hugh’s might seem a little strange on the face of it, there was really nothing uncommon about his desire to relieve the sufferings of the thirsty animal. Scouts are taught to do just these helpful things whenever the opportunity comes along; and many a fellow has found a chance to turn his reversed medal over for the day by an act of mercy toward dumb beasts,—horses, cows, or even dogs in pain or trouble of any sort.

Given time, Billy might have thought to the same end himself, but his brain did not work as rapidly as that of some of the other boys, and as a rule he made slow progress.

He sat there, keeping a wary eye on the performing bear and guessing at the progress of his chums by catching the sound of their voices coming louder and louder with every half minute.

Then Billy breathed more freely when he saw their figures flitting carefully among the trees near by, so as not to spill more of the water than could be helped.

“Good for you, boys!” he called out as he hastened to slip down from his elevated perch, but not soon enough to escape the sharp eyes of Arthur, who immediately took him to task for deserting the solid earth.

“Wise old Billy, ain’t it?” he remarked, jeeringly. “He wasn’t going to take any chances of being nibbled at by the tame bear, was he? Climbed a tree, didn’t you, son? Just as if bears couldn’t shin up a trunk like hot cakes! You’re a bright one, I must say, Billy.”

“That’s all right and I am not ashamed to admit it, either,” asserted the other stoutly. “A scout should never be rash, the rules say. Why should I take unnecessary chances, when I knew that bear had his eye on me, and thought I’d make a good lunch? If he’d been tackling you, Arthur, I’d show you what I’d do if I had to grab him from the back, and wrestle with him like his master does; only he hasn’t his muzzle on right now, and that’d be bad. Does he drink, Hugh?”

While the others were indulging in this little exchange of sentiments, the scout master had advanced toward the tied bear holding out his hat water-pail. The animal eagerly thrust his snout into the cool liquid and seemed to be drinking after a fashion, which told that Hugh had been right when he said the beast must have been fastened here for some time.

“He wasn’t there when I came down from the top of the hill yesterday morning, I give you my word for that, Chief,” Arthur announced, as he stood ready to hand his hat of water over to the other, should the first supply prove insufficient to satisfy the poor beast. “You can see for yourself that it would be impossible for me to have passed on this trail and missed running across him.”

“But what d’ye reckon has become of his master, and how are we goin’ to get the dancing bear back to town, when he don’t know us? That’s what I’d like to know,” Billy demanded apprehensively, not as yet daring to come within five feet of the sleek monster.

“I’m bothered to know what it all means,” Hugh told them. “When he fastened the bear here, the man must have had some notion in his head but he’s been kept from coming back again.”

“Would he want to abandon the poor thing just because it wasn’t paying him to tote the bear along?” asked Arthur.

“I wouldn’t think that could be,” said Hugh. “As far as I know, these men who own trained bears always make a good deal of money and they spend mighty little. Besides, such an animal would be worth fifty or a hundred dollars for exhibition purposes, I’d think. No, there’s some other reason for it. I’ve got half a notion to try to find the man’s track leading away from here, and see which way he did go. What if he fell down some little precipice—there are such things around these hills—and broke his leg? Why, he might lie there and die for all anybody’d hear him call, up in this lonely region.”

Both of the other scouts were more or less worked up by what the patrol leader had just said. It was not very difficult for them to picture a variety of serious perils along the lines suggested by Hugh; they rather liked the idea of picking up the departing trail of the foreigner just to see if they would be equal to the task of discovering him, perhaps asleep, near by.

“But I don’t see how anybody could sleep through all that noise Billy here put up,” Arthur chose to remark, “when he came rushing down the hill with his hair standing on end, and his eyes looking as if they would drop out of his head.”

“Oh! hold on, there, go easy with a fellow, can’t you?” urged Billy reproachfully. “Of course I own up I was some scared, but it wasn’t as bad as all that, and you know it, Arthur. Guess anybody’d have had some shock to run across that thing all of a sudden and believe it to be a wild bear.”

“Why, before we’re done with it,” boasted Arthur, “you may see me riding on the old fellow’s broad back like as not. They’re really as tame and docile as kittens, I was told; that is, after they get to know you, and you’ve fed ’em a few times so they’ll look on you as a friend. There, he acts as though he’d had all the water he wanted, Hugh. Just throw out the rest, and I’ll put on my wet hat, which ought to feel nice and cool after all that soaking.”

Hugh was already commencing to cast around in search of tracks that would be of a far different type from their own,—prints made by broad-soled hob-nailed shoes, such as these Russian immigrants wear. This made it look as though he had been quite in earnest when he made that assertion about feeling in the humor to try and follow the trail the bear’s master had left when he departed on his unknown errand.

Billy happened to think of that loaf of bread which the patrol leader had laid down when arriving on the scene. Some spirit of mischief caused the boy to step over, and picking the package up advance toward the tied bear, holding it out to see what the animal would do.

He found out, and in a big hurry too, after a fashion he had evidently not suspected would come to pass. The animal sniffed harder than ever as he caught the tantalizing odor of the freshly baked bread. If it had held a good scent for the boy who had stuffed himself at breakfast only an hour or two ago, fancy how it excited the bear, which must have been very hungry indeed.

Before Billy could realize how all those frantic pullings might result, he heard the worn rope give a sudden sharp snap where it had gone around the tree. Then he saw that the eager bear was now loose, and advancing quickly toward him, growling and whining with eagerness, and impatient to break his long fast!

CHAPTER IV.
THE TRACKING GAME.

“Hugh, oh! Hugh! he’s loose!”

These boys of the Wolf Patrol had become so accustomed to depending on their energetic leader when trouble threatened that this cry pealed from the lips of Billy Worth as naturally as he would eat his supper, given half a chance.

The sight of that bear standing on his two hind legs and advancing eagerly toward him gave Billy the shock of his life. He realized that being without any kind of weapon, he was powerless to resist should the hungry animal seize hold of him, and commence breaking his fast. Billy did not know, or at least failed to remember then under such tremendous excitement, that bears, at least of this species, are more addicted to a diet of roots, berries, and cereals when they can get them, than flesh.

He dropped the loaf of bread, though the act was more the result of his fright than any idea of coaxing the beast to turn his attention elsewhere, and let him, Billy, alone.

Arthur was close by, but as incapable of assisting his chum as Billy was of helping himself; it seemed as though Arthur must have been paralyzed by the sight of that tall monster pushing directly at the other scout. Arthur remained standing there with open mouth and staring eyes, never so much as lifting a hand.

When the bear began to sniff eagerly, and then dropped suddenly on all fours, as though meaning to hunt for the loaf which had fallen, Billy experienced a feeling of intense relief.

He was actually able to get some momentum, for up to then, while desirous of beating a retreat he had seemed frozen to the ground; he could remember passing through a similar experience when suffering from a species of nightmare.

So Billy fell back several paces, all the while observing the actions of the educated bear as though fascinated.

It would seem that the animal must have been given a loaf of bread tied up in paper many times in the past. Perhaps that was his customary daily allowance. He started to tear the covering away, undoubtedly fully aware of the necessity for doing this before he could get at the contents. And Billy thought he showed almost human intelligence about it, too; in fact, he afterward declared his positive belief that Bruin had deliberately untied the string with his teeth and claws.

At any rate, whether that was true or only imagination on the part of the staring boy, the bear was munching eagerly at the bread by the time Hugh arrived on the spot, which proved how quickly all this had been accomplished.

“What’s happening, Billy?” asked the patrol leader, though of course he could see that the bear was busily engaged with something just then.

“He’s hooked your lovely bread, that’s what, Hugh!” gasped the other, pointing.

“Oh! well, let it go at that,” replied Hugh, with a short laugh. “Seems like a pity to waste Mrs. Benton’s prime bread on such a beast; but since he’s nearly starved, and has got his teeth in the loaf, there’s no stopping him now. But how did it happen you had the bread in your hands, Billy?”

“It was all my fault, I guess, Hugh,” answered the now contrite Billy. “I just thought I’d see how he acted when he got a whiff of that new bread, and would you believe me, he just leaned so hard on his rope that it snapped where it was fastened around the tree. Whoo! if I hadn’t had the good sense to drop the bread I reckon he’d have bitten a hunk out of my leg!”

“But he’s free now, Hugh,” spoke up Arthur. “What can we do about it?”

“While he’s so busy with the bread I’ll try and see if I can get hold of that rope and fix him again,” remarked the patrol leader, not believing it would prove a very difficult task.

“Be careful, Hugh. He’s got wicked-looking teeth! I can see ’em!” Billy warned his chum anxiously.

“And his claws haven’t been trimmed this long while, seems like,” added Arthur.

“I’ll look out, make your minds easy on that question,” Hugh told them. “Both of you stand where you are, and keep moving your arms so as to sort of hold his attention. I think I can see how the job is going to be done.”

“A good idea, sure it is!” Billy declared and immediately began to swing both of his arms as though they were parts of some windmill with a twenty-mile-an-hour gale blowing.

“Easy now, not quite so hard, Billy!” Hugh admonished as he started to pass to the rear of the munching brute, where he had discovered the broken end of the rope lying on the ground.

The others continued to move their arms and talk as they watched Hugh work. In the first place he bent down and secured the rope. He found that by advancing closer to the bear he would be able to pass it around a stout little sapling and knot the end securely. What if the munching beast did growl more or less as he became conscious of Hugh’s presence. That was just the way any dog would do when disturbed while crunching a bone between his teeth; and the scout master did not mean to let it deter him from the task he had set out to perform.

“All done, Hugh?” burst out the admiring Billy when he saw the other starting to move back.

“Yes, and if the rope only holds this time he’ll stay there till his master shows up to take him in charge,” came from the other.

“You did it in first-class style, and that’s a fact, Chief!” asserted the relieved Arthur.

“Now, what’s next on the program?” demanded Billy.

“Why, as I’ve managed to find the tracks of the foreigner leaving here, I thought we might start out and follow the trail,” suggested the patrol leader.

“Fine!” ejaculated Billy.

“And I think the same,” added Arthur, “though I hope that after we’re all through with this job you’ll still come back with me, and try out my wireless, Hugh. Promise me that, won’t you, please?”

“You can count on me, Arthur,” the other assured him. “I’m almost as much interested in your experiment as you can be yourself. I think it would be a great thing if we could talk across all the distance between while you’re home here and some of the scouts are on board the Vixen bound up the coast. It would show the boys of the Naval Reserve that scouts are not so slow after all to keep up with the procession. Yes, you can count on me, Arthur, to watch you work your wireless.”

“All right, Hugh. Let’s see if we can find out what’s become of the man who owns this poor bear.”

Hugh immediately led his chums over where he had been working at the moment that the tocsin of alarm from Billy announced that something unusual had happened, and that he was needed in another quarter.

“See here and here,” Hugh told them, pointing as he spoke to the ground.

“That is his trail as sure as anything,” admitted Billy instantly. “And he’s wearing shoes with great big hob-nails in them, too. Most of these foreigners do that, I guess. They make their shoes wear twice as long; and every cent saved means they can go back all the sooner to their old home with a little fortune tucked away in their corduroys or jeans. Lead off, Hugh, and we’ll be right at your heels. And show us anything queer you happen to run across on the trail, see?”

“Because as scouts,” added Arthur, promptly, “we want to be up to all the wrinkles of the business, you know. I find out new things every day, and it seems like the more you know the more you discover you don’t know.”

“That’s a queer way of saying it, Arthur,” laughed Hugh, “but it covers the ground, I think. You mean the field keeps on getting larger the more our horizon is extended, which is what one writer says. Come on then, we’ll leave the bear to finish his bread, and lick up the crumbs. I had thought to have a share of that brown loaf myself, but it went in a good cause and I don’t feel sorry.”

With the scout master leading them and all bending low so as to keep a close watch on the tracks, they started forth. None of them could tell just where that trail might take them,—a dozen possibilities opened up before their mental vision. If they thought anything at all, possibly Billy and Arthur were convinced that the foreigner may have wanted to get rid of his charge, and had thus basely abandoned the poor bear to its fate. Then again there was a chance that in going to town he may have been arrested for some trivial thing, and was even then languishing in the lockup, unable to make the police understand that his performing bear would starve unless some one went up to Cedar Hill to relieve the animal’s wants.

Several times Hugh did call a temporary halt. He had come upon some phase of the trail that might have mystified a greenhorn, but which proved no puzzle to him, because of his wide experience in these things. And he took pleasure in explaining to his comrades what the combination meant.

“It seems that the fellow might be trying to blind anybody that chanced to be following his tracks,” Hugh once told his mates. “Three times now he’s even gone to the trouble to walk along a fallen tree trunk, and jump from the further end. If I didn’t know the old Indian dodge, it would have fooled me, too.”

“And I never heard about such a game,” admitted Arthur, while Billy nodded his head acknowledging the same thing.

“But whatever do you think he wants to do that for, Hugh?” the last named asked.

“I don’t know, Billy,” replied the patrol leader thoughtfully. “Seems to me he might be following a series of marks somehow, for look here at this plain ‘blaze’ on this tree, made at least several months ago, perhaps even last year. Now, it might be possible that the man has got a secret cache somewhere around, where he keeps his valuables; and whenever he finds himself in this neighborhood he goes there to add to the hoard, looking to the time when he thinks he will have enough saved to go back home with. And he has made a secret trail from where he left his bear to this hiding place.”

“Yes, but while that sounds all to the good, Hugh,” protested Billy, “why should he stay away so long?”

“We’ll hope to find that out before we’re done,” Hugh told them; “that is, fellows, if you don’t say you’ve had enough of this tracking game, and want to call it off.”

Both the others immediately vigorously protested that they were not dreaming of such a thing; that they stood ready to back the scout master up, even if they had to continue this rambling around up and down among the rough places of the mountain until dark set in.

“All right, that settles it,” said Hugh. “Let me tell you this is just pie for me. I’m never so happy as when trying to find out the answer to some knotty problem. We’ll keep right on, even if the zigzag trail takes us all the way to the town lock-up!”

Ten minutes later Hugh held up his hand warningly.

“Steady, boys!” he remarked quietly. “Here’s a bad place where the bushes seem to screen the brink of a little precipice; you can see for yourselves that the man we’re tracking must have stumbled at the worst spot he could have picked out to take the dip. Here is where he crashed through the bushes; and look, when I part them with my hands, you can see that there’s a bad drop beyond.”

“Listen!” said Arthur.

“What did you think you heard?” gasped Billy, looking somewhat awed.

“Sounded awfully like a groan!” replied the other solemnly.

CHAPTER V.
A SCOUT AMBULANCE.

All of them crouching there listened eagerly.

“There it comes again!” exclaimed Arthur, excitedly.

“And it is a groan as sure as anything!” added Billy.

“Yes, the poor fellow must have fallen over here, and been hurt so badly that he wasn’t able to get up again,” Hugh announced, and then crawling forward to the verge of the precipice he took an observation.

“See him, Hugh?” questioned Billy.

“Yes, he’s down there in a heap,” came the reply. “Looks as if he might have tried again and again to work his way up, and had to quit through weakness. Come on, let’s work our way around, boys. I think there must be some easier path down there than the one he took.”

“Gee whiz! I should hope so!” muttered Billy, who had also ventured to take a peep over the edge, though without seeing the fallen master of the bear.

They skirted the precipice and as Hugh had predicted, soon discovered that it was possible to make the descent by means of a shelving path, which doubtless the wretched man had not found out. Presently they had reached the place where he lay.

He was looking terribly gaunt and haggard, more from the result of his intense pain and anxiety than because he had been imprisoned so long in that trap. When the trio of scouts came upon him, the man’s face lighted up with new hope. He held out his hands eagerly toward them, bursting into a torrent of words, most of which they failed to understand because they may have been Russian, and like so much gibberish in their ears.

If the poor fellow was in any doubt as to their pacific and kindly intentions, the reassuring smiles on the faces of the scouts must have soon allayed his fears.

Hugh tried to tell him that they had found his bear, and followed his trail all the way along the side of old Stormberg Mountain to this place where he had met with his accident. He also gave the man to understand that they would stay by, and get him to a place of safety.

First of all the young scout master started to make an examination so that he might understand the extent of the man’s injuries.

“Isn’t it queer how history likes to repeat itself?” remarked Billy while he and the third chum stood there watching Hugh go through with this examination. “Just the other day it seems we saw our leader look over another party who had met with an accident, only in his case it was a fractured arm and not his leg.”

“Yes,” added Arthur, “an aeronaut in one case, and the owner of a dancing bear this time. They say extremes meet, and I guess that’s so with us. But it makes no difference who’s in pain and trouble, a scout has got to stand by him; isn’t that right, Hugh?”

“Every time,” replied the scout master promptly. “I find that this man has broken a bone in his left leg. I can feel it grate when I press it, even if it hasn’t come through, like some do when the fracture is extra bad. But he’s been trying to stand on it, and drag himself up here, only to fall back again and again, so that it’s pretty badly inflamed by now. Want of attention has hurt him more than the original break. I’m going to fix that leg as best I can, and wrap it up with the fresh surgeons’ tape I happen to be carrying with me.”

There was really no “happen” about it, for Hugh always made it a point to carry a small supply of that useful bandage tape with him all the time. It is one of those things which when required at all is needed badly. On several previous occasions the scout master had found cause to thank his forethought in thus going prepared for emergencies. Boys take so many desperate chances in their rough play that they are in constant danger of meeting with some accident.

The man seemed to understand that he was in the hands of Good Samaritans, though it doubtless hurt him keenly when Hugh worked; he stifled many a groan, he gritted his teeth, and managed to keep from fainting under the strain.

“There, that’s all done, and as good a job as anything I ever tackled,” Hugh finally declared, as he arose and stretched his cramped limbs. “And now the next thing is to get him up out of here. Suppose both of you try taking him by the shoulders while I look after his legs. I know how to handle him with as little pain as can be done. We can move him a little way, and then rest, till we’re up on the level again. Ready, boys?”

The others understood what Hugh had in mind. They had practiced carrying a helpless person in some of their “first aid to the injured” lessons; and hence were quite competent to attend to their end. Hugh knew that the wounded man was in for more painful experiences, but then there was no other way of getting him out of that deep gully.

Resting as many as half a dozen times, the three scouts finally reached the level ground again. All of them were panting heavily, for the man was no light weight, and climbing the steep side of the ravine under such conditions was a much more difficult task than they had found when descending.

“And now what?” asked Billy as he looked to Hugh to lay out a plan.

“We must make a litter or stretcher, just as we’ve done more than a few times when practicing this game of carrying a wounded comrade,” the scout master told them.

“That would be easy enough if only we had some sort of hatchet along,” Arthur declared, “but you see, none of us dreamed we’d need such a thing. Now, I’ve got an old one hidden near where my wireless masts stand up on the top of Cedar Hill, if only you’d wait till I could go there and back.”

“No need,” observed Hugh, who had as usual been keeping his eyes on the alert, and made a few discoveries. “Here are all the poles we’ll need, lying in a bunch. Probably some fellow had been gathering them for bean poles or something like that, and then forgot to take them away.”

“Talk to me about luck, we get it in hunks, don’t we?” cried Billy. “Why, where could we have run across better poles to make a stretcher? All we want is some stout cord to fasten the ends together, so they won’t slip.”

“Here’s a piece of rope the bear man seemed to have been carrying along with him for some purpose or other,” said Hugh. “I picked it up near where he lay, knowing we might make use of it some way. By unwinding these strands we’ll have more than all the cord we need to tie the poles across each other.”

All of them immediately busied themselves, and so well had their lesson been learned that in a very short time they had fashioned a splendid litter. The wounded man watched them work with a sparkle of gratitude in his eyes. He must have realized by now that those khaki uniforms which these boys wore meant succor for him, and it is greatly to the credit of Boy Scouts everywhere that seldom does this confidence in their willingness to give aid in times of distress meet with disappointment.

After the litter had been finished, they laid enough hemlock browse upon it to make a pretty soft mattress. As Billy felt of that and scented the delightful piney odor, he nodded his head and remarked:

“I only hope that if ever I break a leg and have to be carried to the doctor’s, I’ll be lucky enough to lie on as fine a stretcher as this, that’s all I can say.”

Hugh took hold of one end, and Billy started at the other. They meant to take turns and in this way “rest up,” as Billy called it.

“You’re heading so as to reach the road, I take it?” remarked Arthur presently.

“Just what I’m doing,” the scout master replied. “We ought to make use of our wheels in some way to take off most of the strain of carrying this man to town.”

“Who’d ever have thought of that but you, Chief?” cried Billy, who was looking a little tired. The task of stumbling along, bearing half of that weight over rough ground, was far from an easy one.

When they reached the spot where the bicycles had been hidden these were brought out, and it was found that the stretcher could be rested on the handle bars of two of the wheels. By taking care, there was little danger of an upset. So presently a queer procession was passing along the road. Everything seemed to work so nicely that while they met several farmers going home from market, the boys declined the offer when they proposed turning back so as to carry the wounded Russian to the hospital.

Perhaps there was a little vein of pride about it, and the scouts wanted to let scoffers see how well they were able to manage when a sudden emergency confronted them. They were only boys after all, and felt that they had a perfect right to be proud of the way they had managed.

Hugh at such times as they paused—once to rest and again to give the injured man a drink from a spring that bubbled up near the road—managed to converse a little with the grateful fellow. He told the boy, whom he now looked upon as a good and tried friend, that he did have a little cache among the rocks on the side of Stormberg, where he kept his savings, being afraid to trust banks, and knowing what danger there must always be of his being robbed if he carried all his money along with him in his erratic wanderings. For three years he had come back here late every summer and in the early spring to add secretly to his hoard.

On the present occasion it had been his intention to carry his accumulations away with him, for he meant to sail across the sea to his old home, where he could live in what he considered comfort on the amount he had saved. Misfortune had overtaken him, however, and with a broken leg he must delay his departure a long time.

They reached the town limits at length, and great was the surprise of the good citizens when this queer ambulance took its way along the main street, headed for the hospital. As the excitement spread, people rushed out of stores and dwelling houses, and upon every tongue could be heard praises of the Boy Scouts.

“What won’t they be doing next?” men asked each other as they noted how splendidly Hugh and his two chums had made that stretcher for the wounded man, and how cleverly they were utilizing their wheels in place of a wagon in order to convey him from a distance to the town hospital. “It certainly was the best thing that ever happened for the boys of this country when that scout movement started here, and it has spread like wildfire. Why, it was only lately that they rescued that aeronaut, and the doctor said they’d fix his broken arm about as well as he could have done the job himself under the same conditions. If your boy doesn’t belong already, you can’t coax him to be a scout any too soon, believe me, neighbor.”

Having seen the wounded man safely cared for, and received his thanks, uttered in broken English it is true, but just as heartfelt for all that, Hugh next thought of the bear, left there in the hills. He hunted up a lot more of the scouts who were of a stripe to enjoy any lark of that kind, and armed with plenty of rope they started forth.

In the end they succeeded in bringing the trained bear all the way back to town, and as Hugh had been thoughtful enough to take along a supply of food for the animal, the task proved much easier than any of them had anticipated. All they had to do was to keep him well roped from several quarters, and then tempt him to shuffle along by holding some of the food so he could see it.

Their arrival created another furore. People once more came flocking to the streets to watch the little procession pass by. They were telling each other that nowadays there hardly seemed to arise any sort of necessity but what somehow the Boy Scouts were being counted on to meet and overcome the difficulty,—from finding a lost child to rescuing a wrecked balloon pilot or saving the life of a poor foreigner who had fallen over a precipice and broken his leg.

All of which must have been so intensely gratifying to Hugh and his chums that the fatigue caused by their strenuous exertions was for the time being quite forgotten.

CHAPTER VI.
BILLY’S LUCKY JINX.

“To-morrow is the day set for starting to Boston to go aboard the Government vessel handed over to the Naval Reserve for their late summer cruise and practice, isn’t it, Hugh?” remarked Billy Worth sadly on the Monday following their adventure up on the side of Cedar Hill and Stormberg Mountain.

He and Arthur happened to meet at Hugh’s house that afternoon to help the scout master finish his packing, though that was probably only an excuse to be in his society, for Hugh was not the one to neglect the slightest thing, or leave it to annoy him in the rush toward the last moment.

“Yes, we leave on the ten-five morning train, and will be aboard before sunset, if all goes well,” replied Hugh. “I wish both of you were going along; but as only two could be selected from each patrol, and Billy just missed being the second Wolf chosen, it can’t be helped.”

“Worst streak of luck I ever ran up against!” declared that individual with a look of supreme disgust on his face. “Just a measly five points stood between me and that dandy cruise. Oh! I’ll never get over it, I tell you. Slowly but surely I’m crumbling away, losing flesh every single day, until when you come back none of you’ll recognize me.”

Hugh only chuckled at hearing this, but Arthur jeered the speaker.

“Well, my word for it you can keep on ‘crumbling’ like you say you are, for the next sixteen years and then beat me in weight two to one. Crumbling agrees with some people, it seems. But besides you and Andy Scott, who’s on the lucky list, Hugh? I’ve been feeling so bad about it, and so busy working on my wireless, that I haven’t paid much attention to these other things lately.”

“From the Hawks there are Walter Osborne and Blake Merton; from the Fox Patrol Don Miller and that new member who took the place of the one moving away from our town; and they do say that ‘Monkey’ Stallings has belonged to a New York troop—he is entitled to wear the badge of a first class scout—and certainly gave Don a close race for first honors in the examination. Then from the Otters of course there will be Alec Sands and with him Sam Winter. That makes the full eight boys.”

“But how about the Owl Patrol; don’t they send representatives along too?” asked Arthur, surprised.

“No,” Hugh replied, “because it was stipulated that only first-class scouts could go on this great voyage up the coast with the Naval Reserve; and you know that nearly all of our new members belonging to the Owl Patrol are tenderfeet, fellows who have a lot to learn before they can call themselves real scouts.”

“I am glad that you think I have done a pretty decent job with my affair up at the Cedar Hill Station of the wireless circuit, Hugh,” remarked Arthur.

“It was only what I expected to find. I happened to know what a clever hand you were at all such contraptions, Arthur,” the scout master told him.

“And to think how fortunate it was that we were all there just when my aerials were working in sympathy with that Government station over on the coast near Cape Cod,” continued the other with a happy light dancing in his eyes. “Say, let me tell you it was the proudest time of my whole life when I stood there and actually read a part of that Marconigram sent from the beach station to some other point, telling about a wreck that had happened on the coast. What was better, each of you had the pleasure of listening to some of that message too, sent a hundred miles away from here.”

“Yes,” said Hugh, “and that was further than I had ever heard a message before by wireless. One thing seems sure, Arthur, if they let us get in touch with you, we can have great times while we’re away from home. And that code you gave me will enable us to simplify matters just fine. A letter stands for a sentence to the home folks, and every one of us has a particular sign. By the way, who’s heard the latest news about our friend, the Russian bear man, and his pet?”

“Somebody was saying at our house they heard he meant to be around on crutches soon,” remarked Billy, “but we happen to know the reason he won’t leave town till he can pay another visit up there to the rocky side of old Stormberg. He wants to gather in that snug little nest egg he’s got hidden away there. He sold his bear to the park people, who are thinking of starting a sort of zoo, you must know, to interest the children and teach them more about wild animals than they can ever get from traveling shows.”

“I’m glad of that,” Hugh observed. “Whenever any of us happens to be in the park we can give the old chap some peanuts, and remember the great times we had up there when we found him hitched to that tree, and as hungry as they make them.”

“Wonder if he’ll always look at me the same way he did then,” mused Billy as he rubbed his chin reflectively. “Honest, fellows, I believe only for that loaf of Mrs. Benton’s home-made bread that I tossed him as a coaxer, he’d have taken a nab at one of my legs. But we did our duty as scouts, didn’t we?”

“Why, we found a hungry and thirsty bear tied up, and not only fetched him water in our hats but fed him with the best there was,” Arthur went on to say in a tone that was full of boyish satisfaction. “Then not only that but we tracked his master, and rescued him from that bad hole, fixed his broken leg, toted him all the way to the hospital on a stretcher that only scouts would know how to make, and then brought the bear down in the bargain. I’m glad I took my camera that last time because I got a dandy picture of him standing on his hind legs and dancing, holding that long pole all the while. I have to laugh every time I look at that picture, boys. It enlarges fine, and some day I’ll print each of you one six inches square, because all three of us are in the picture, along with Dancing Jumbo.”

“That’s good of you to make such an offer, Arthur,” avowed Billy, “and I’ve got just the right place to put it over the desk in my den. It’s fine to have something to show for your work, and a picture is the best every time. When you look at it you seem to be living the whole thing over again. That album of yours is something I never get tired of hanging over whenever I’m at your house. What great times it covers, and how some of those adventures stand out, eh?”

“How about that new member of the Foxes, Monkey Stallings, though I believe he is called Eben at home? Have you seen enough of him to know whether he’s going to make a good addition to our troop, Hugh?” Arthur asked, changing the subject.

“I know that he’s seen more or less service as a scout, and that counts for considerable, you know,” the patrol leader answered. “Somehow I haven’t happened to see enough of him at close quarters to say I know him real well. He’s a regular gymnast and contortionist, they tell me, and can hang from the highest limb of a tree by his toes without a quiver, climb like a regular monkey, stand on his head as well as walk on his hands or his toes as it pleases him. In fact, he’s a bundle of nerves, and can hardly keep quiet.”

“Perhaps you’ll be apt to know him better by the time you get back from this gay cruise,” Billy told him. “Don Miller seems to think he’s the best thing that’s struck the troop this season, and I reckon he ought to know. But isn’t there anything I could help you do in packing your outfit, Hugh? If I can’t go along myself, the next best thing is to have a hand in getting you ready.”

“Not a single thing left to do, Billy,” the scout master assured him. “You see, I made out this little list, taking along only what I must have. We got pointers about that from Lieutenant Denmead, who was afraid some of the boys would load themselves down with all sorts of truck from camping stuff to banjoes. I checked things off as I put them in my knapsack, and it’s all there with my blanket. When the time comes to say good-by, I’ll be ready to shoulder this and be off.”

Billy drew a tremendous sigh that seemed to come straight from his big heart. If he had ever been grievously disappointed in his life, it was right when Hugh and those seven other lucky fellows were about starting off on what promised to be a most glorious cruise on salt water, and he had to stay home all through those two long dreary weeks, just going along in the same old rut day after day with nothing exciting happening.

“There’s somebody ringing your ’phone bell like fun, Hugh!” remarked Arthur.

“That’s so, and I forgot that about everybody happens to be out now; so I’d better go and attend to it myself. Excuse me, boys, I’ll be back in a jiffy.” And with these words Hugh hurried into the hall where the telephone hung.

They heard him talking with some one, but paid little or no attention to what was going on. Arthur was examining some pictures he had run across on Hugh’s table taken by a cousin out West, which depicted cowboy scenes that stirred the blood of the boy, who loved life in the open. Billy on his part was studying the list mentioned by Hugh, which had a blue pencil check against every item; and he seemed so intent on this labor that one might even think he contemplated packing his own knapsack, waylaying the column somewhere, and forcibly taking the place of some other scout.

When Hugh came back, his face was shining and his eyes dancing so that both of the other boys guessed he must have been hearing some very pleasant news over the wire.

“Who was it, and what did they want?” asked Arthur with a chum’s familiarity.

“It was Lieutenant Denmead,” replied Hugh, still smiling broadly as he looked straight at Billy.

“What did he want with you, Hugh, tell us?” appealed Arthur. “It had something to do with that trip to-morrow, didn’t it?”

“You are a good guesser, Arthur—it certainly did,” Hugh told him.

“Look here, I hope there hasn’t been any fluke, or that something’s happened to block the game?” Billy exclaimed, though he ought to have known that such a dreadful disaster would never have made Hugh grin as he was doing.

“It has been blocked for one scout, it appears, because his folks have decided at the last minute they don’t want him to go,” Hugh explained. “You see his brother was drowned only last summer, and they tremble at the thought of their only boy spending two long weeks aboard a boat at sea and in the coast harbors.”

Billy became almost white as he clutched the arm of the other.

“A boy drowned, did you say, Hugh? Why, that must be Benjy Scott you’re referring to! Am I right, Hugh? Oh! please hurry and tell me, for I’m nearly choking with suspense. Because you see it was his brother, Andy Scott, that just nosed me out of going on this bully trip. Is Andy the one that’s had to back down? Is that what our scout master said, Hugh? Tell me!”

“That was what happened, Billy,” replied the other as he held out his hand to the excited boy, “and when he tried to get you at your home, they said you were probably over here. Anyway, the lieutenant told me that as you were a close third on the list, and as Andy couldn’t go along with the rest, I was commissioned to say that the place was open to you, if you cared to accept!”

“What, me accept?” gasped Billy, beginning to recover his usual rosy color as the delightful prospect arose before him. “Why, I’d stay up half the night getting my pack ready so I wouldn’t miss that train! Whoop! think of it, will you! I’m to go along after all? The same old lucky jinx is playing his tricks on me. Hugh, loan me this list of yours; it will save me lots of trouble. And where’s my hat? I ought to slide over home in three shakes of a wolf’s tail and get busy packing up. No sleep for me to-night, I’m afraid, with my nerves all singing little songs of joy like they are right now. If I don’t see you again, Arthur, till at the train, here’s the best of luck to you with your wireless! Be sure to stay up around that tree station every day you can! We’ll try our level best to talk with you. Just to think how things change around! One minute I was eating my heart out with envy, and now I know I’m going along. Whoop! don’t stop me—I’m off!”

CHAPTER VII.
“ALL ABOARD!”

“That was the go-ashore whistle, Hugh! It means we’re due to leave the dock in five or ten minutes more!”

“And still nothing to be seen of those two hold-out scouts, Sam Winter and the latest recruit, Monkey Stallings. I’m beginning to believe they’ve got adrift seeing the sights of old Boston, and will lose the number of their mess.”

“What fools some fellows can be, Hugh! As for me, now that I’m on the deck of this bully boat, nothing could hire me to go ashore again till the cruise is over. A life on the wide, wide sea for me, tral-la-la!” and Billy Worth danced a few steps as though he might already imagine himself a seasoned old salt practicing what is known as the “sailor’s hornpipe.”

“Better wait and see before you boast too loud, Billy,” returned the scout master, grimly. “I’ve heard about all sorts of terrible things that happen to landsmen the first time they feel the roll of the ship under them. Solid earth may seem like the finest thing you can think of before many hours.”

“Huh! don’t make me out a regular greeny, Chief. Remember I’ve sailed on a bay before. I reckon some fellows with weak stomachs will double up; but it’s different with me.”

“You never can tell,” Hugh remarked dryly. “So I say it’s wise not to blow your horn too loud before you know. But whatever can be keeping those boys? Looks as if we might only count six noses at roll-call instead of the full eight.”

The two members of the Wolf Patrol were leaning over the side of the Government vessel of the type known as a scout cruiser. This one had been fitted up especially for the convenience and education of the young jack tars who thronged the deck and the dock nearby, dressed for the most part in white togs, and with all the airs of experienced sea-going mariners.

These jaunty looking fellows constituted a branch of the auxiliary arm of the United States Government known as the Naval Reserve, upon which Uncle Sam expected to call immediately should any war break out, to man his extra ships, and defend the coasts against an enemy.

They were from all walks of life, and as a rule bright, eager young men who knew considerable about what the duties aboard a warship were like. They had nearly all been afloat on preceding summers, since this cruise was a regular institution. Still, they desired to learn all possible new wrinkles connected with their vocation as voluntary naval men; and the two weeks’ cruise along the New England coast was going to widen their knowledge wonderfully.

Just what the Boy Scouts were expected to do aboard the Vixen, Hugh did not as yet fully know. It was supposed, however, that they would be very useful in many capacities, especially when landing parties went ashore, defended by the big guns of the cruiser, with a force concealed behind land defenses to carry out the part of a hostile army.

It had all been a piece of tremendous good luck, this chance that came to some of the scouts to accompany the Naval Reserve on this summer cruise. Such a thing had, so far as Hugh knew, never been dreamed of before; and it all came about through the gratitude of the rich aeronaut, Mr. Perkins, whom Hugh and several of his chums had rescued from the top of a tall tree, where he had been stranded when his runaway balloon lurched and threw him out.

It seemed that he was a personal friend of the Secretary of the Navy; in fact they had been old-time chums in their school days. And Professor Perkins had used his influence with the Naval Department so as to have this wonderful invitation extended to the troop in which he had taken such a keen interest.

The scouts had all left the home town on the scheduled train, and before five that evening were aboard the cruiser, wild with delight over the prospect that loomed up ahead. They were given quarters forward with the men, and being accustomed to camping, believed they would be able to make themselves very comfortable while sleeping in hammocks.

And indeed, that night they had no complaint to make, though it did seem pretty noisy around the docks, especially to lads accustomed to the quiet of country life.

On the following day they were allowed shore leave with explicit instructions to be aboard at one o’clock, since that was close to the hour set for sailing; and as Hugh put it, “neither time, nor tide, nor yet Government war vessels wait for any man.”

Here one o’clock had come, and as yet two of the scouts had failed to show up, so that Hugh was naturally bothered, for he considered this tardiness inexcusable in boys who had been taught the value of keeping their engagements to the letter.

All of the other scouts had lined up on that side of the vessel with scores of the Naval Reserves, deeply interested in what was going on. As is usually the case when a boat is due to move out, there was great confusion. Trucks were being rushed this way and that, to get some late luggage or food supplies aboard; officers were shouting orders; men bidding good-by to wives and friends; and all in all, it was a sight the boys would never be apt to forget no matter what they might experience in coming days, such an indelible impression did it make on their young minds.

Again did the long and shrill whistle start blowing with frequent breaks. The Reserves, knowing that this meant “all aboard,” broke away from the various little groups on the crowded dock and started up the gangways. Gradually order was coming out of apparent chaos, and it could be seen that every man was now aboard the Vixen; the vessel trembled from the escaping steam that roared like a giant, impatient to be off.

“Too bad,” said Hugh, as this racket suddenly ceased, and he saw the men begin to unfasten the heavy hawsers that held the cruiser close to the wharf. “Those fellows have missed the chance of their lives.”

“Look! there comes one on the run!” exclaimed Walter Osborne near by.

“It’s Sam Winter, and he’ll just make it, and no more!” echoed Alec Sands, who probably felt a deeper interest in the success or failure of the runner than any of the other boys, since he and Sam represented the Otter Patrol aboard.

The six scouts started a cheer to encourage the runner, and recognizing the familiar signal of the scout’s troop, Sam looked up and waved his hand. He just managed to set his foot on the last gangway as it trembled on the rise; and the next moment was dragged aboard the boat, saved by an inch.

“That makes seven, anyhow!” said Billy. “But that new recruit, Monkey Stallings, is left in the lurch. Wow! what’s that I see back yonder, Hugh? Looks mighty like a scout in uniform breaking through the crowd, doesn’t it? Say, they’ve gone and got that boy blocked so he just can’t make it in time! Now isn’t that too bad? Whatever can he do, I’d like to know? So near and yet so far, with the boat beginning to move out, too. Poor Monkey, I’m sorry for you, sure I am!”

“Oh! look at that! Look at him, boys!” shrieked Blake Merton.

“It’s going to be a cold day when Monkey gets left, let me tell you!” cried Don Miller, who, being the leader of the Fox Patrol, to which the new recruit belonged, probably knew more about the varied accomplishments of Monkey than any other scout.

Seeing that he had no chance to break through the solid crowd that barred his passage, the recruit had leaped up to the top of a pile of freight on the dock, and was even then skipping along almost over the heads of the dense mass of cheering spectators, clinging to all sorts of friendly objects, and exhibiting a nimbleness that caused his seven comrades fairly to hold their breath.

The entire crowd had by this time begun to understand that one of the Boy Scouts was in danger of being left behind; and like all crowds, this one started to send out volleys of encouraging shouts amidst much laughter. For the moment even bitter partings were utterly forgotten; everyone present became vitally interested in whether the daring and nimble lad was going to make it or not.

Monkey had apparently sized up the situation at a single glance. All of his efforts were directed to reaching the end of the pier in time to make a wild leap as the boat swept past, for she was going out stern first as was customary.

There never was greater excitement over the sailing of a vessel with a consignment of the Naval Reserve aboard, and all on account of one belated passenger who seemed bent on making a last desperate effort not to be left. The sympathies of every witness had been aroused, and encouraging cheers doubtless nerved the boy to even greater exertions.

As the crisis came, Hugh became rigid with anxiety, for it looked nip and tuck as to whether Monkey would land on the boat or drop with a splash in Boston harbor.

Monkey managed to catch hold of the rail, and clung there like a squirrel does to the trunk of a tree while cheer after cheer greeted the successful carrying out of the daring act. And then friendly jackies reached down to lift him over, for it seemed as though every fellow aboard felt that he would be glad to give the plucky scout a helping hand.

Of course the other boys considered that Monkey’s achievement shed more or less luster on the entire organization; and for the next half hour they felt themselves of considerable importance aboard that boat, and doubtless puffed out their chests more or less in consequence.

Alas! pride is often doomed to have a fall, and it was almost due in this case, though few of those lads suspected from what quarter their Waterloo was fated to come.

They sat there looking back at the beautiful scene, as the Vixen passed down the harbor. Bunker Hill monument stood up like a finger pointing to the heavens, and as all the boys had climbed to its top the first thing that morning, they paid more attention to this than any other feature that opened before them.

“There’s Nantasket Beach!” they heard someone, who was probably a Boston man, say near by, as he pointed to a strip of shore that seemed to be given up to all manner of merry-go-rounds, Ferris wheels, and the like, to be found at shore resorts such as have become known under the name of “Coney Islands.”

“Sorry we didn’t have time to run down there,” remarked Billy, who was moving uneasily about along the deck. “Mebbe we’ll get a chance to do it when we come back. Let’s see, that will be in about twelve days, won’t it, Hugh?”

“Yes, but I hope you’re not counting the days already, Billy?” remarked the other with a twinkle in his eye, for he suspected what was coming.

“What, me? Well, I should guess not. If it was forty days, it would make me all the happier. But we must be getting out to sea, aren’t we, Hugh? The boat has begun to dip the queer way they told me it would when it had left the harbor behind. And say, what an odd, nasty motion it has, too?”

“Oh! let up on that, Billy! Just as if we don’t know it without you forcing the fact in our faces,” Walter Osborne told him, for Walter was sitting there, holding his head in his hands, and apparently trying to keep from seeing how things had begun to move up and down in that dizzy fashion.

As the roll of the sea became more pronounced, for it was rather rough outside, first one fellow and then another made some silly excuse and slipped away. Several of the Reserves seemed to be deeply interested in the green water and the white foam under the vessel’s side, for they kept leaning over steadily.

Hugh was really the last to give in, and he only felt that he ought to be looking after the other fellows who had gone below to their hammocks. He found every one of the seven there “taking things easy” they assured him, though several had white faces, and their merriment was rather forced.

The Boy Scouts of the Naval Reserve

THE BOY SCOUTSOF THENAVAL RESERVE

CONTENTS

The Boy Scouts of the Naval Reserve.

CHAPTER I.THE TRAIL UP CEDAR HILL.

CHAPTER II.SCOUT TACTICS.

CHAPTER III.THE DANCING BEAR.

CHAPTER IV.THE TRACKING GAME.

CHAPTER V.A SCOUT AMBULANCE.

CHAPTER VI.BILLY’S LUCKY JINX.

CHAPTER VII.“ALL ABOARD!”