أنت هنا
قراءة كتاب The Boy Scouts for City Improvement
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
Hugh; and no matter what sort of trouble we meet, you can count on my standing back of you to the end. If the scouts can’t clean up the town and help make it look like a place people will be proud to claim as home, then it’s a hopeless case, that’s all I’ve got to say about it.”
“When nearly two score lively scouts get busy, there’s going to be something doing, believe me,” commented Hugh, who had seen the troop in action many times in the past and hence knew what the various patrols were capable of accomplishing. “And I’m glad to know that you take so kindly to my scheme in the start. It’s going to pull stronger the more you think it over. Billy’s telling all the boys over the ’phone to bring bags along with them to-night. You see he believes in rushing things. And so I’m figuring on commencing operations right away, if a majority are in favor of tackling the big job.”
“I’ll fetch a broom and you can bring a shovel; whatever we start to do, we may need something like that, Hugh,” observed the practical Alec, becoming, just as the other had expected, more interested in the scheme the further he went.
“Listen! Wasn’t that a shout just then?” exclaimed Hugh, turning his head as he slackened his pace by means of the pedal brake.
“Seemed to come from over in that clump of trees, too,” observed Alec, almost immediately adding: “Look at all that smoke rising up, Hugh! I honestly believe a house or barn must be on fire.”
“Come on, let’s head that way,” said Hugh quickly. “Here’s a road to get in, and it must lead straight there.” While saying this, he threw himself off his wheel to open a gate that stood in their way.
Together the two scouts pedaled along the wagon road that led from the main highway toward the clump of trees, back of which doubtless lay the house and barn connected with the farm.
“It’s the Ketchem place,” said Alec. “You know the family is related to that good-for-nothing Lige Corbley you were just talking about. Queer how things happen, isn’t it? You never speak of an angel but you hear the quiver of wings; though I reckon Lige is far from being that kind of a fellow. Hugh, it is a house afire! Hurry, and let’s help put the blaze out. There are only a widow and her three children living here. She runs the farm since her husband died last year.”
Both boys strained themselves to the utmost to reach the scene of the excitement as speedily as possible. They could see a woman carrying two buckets of water, and several children running back and forth, while the smoke continued to ooze from the doors and windows of the farmhouse.
“But that was a man who shouted for us to come,” declared Alec. “Do you see him anywhere around, Hugh?”
“Somebody’s up on the roof with a bucket of water,” replied the other scout. “He has a ladder placed against the side of the house. Well, would you believe it, Alec, it must be the very boy we were talking about? I saw him look this way when he waved his hand just then, and it was surely Lige Corbley.”
“Well, for once, then, we’ll have to give him a helping hand. This isn’t a time to stand back for fear of getting contaminated. Come on, Hugh, let’s find some buckets. We’ve just got to get this fire under control!”
Letting their wheels lie where they had dropped, the boys hurried forward to the place where the almost distracted widow was standing. Hugh took the empty buckets from her hand, and Alec, spying several tin milk pails sunning on a picket fence near by, hastened to help himself to a couple.
“To the well, and fill up!” he shouted, at the same time dashing off at full speed.
The boy on the roof came down hastily, as though he realized that this additional force might mean another method of attacking the fire.
“It’s in the kitchen,” he said. “I poured three buckets down around the chimney because I reckoned it must have caught from a defective flue. But a lot of rags and things are blazing inside and making all this smoke now. Bring on the water, boys, and we’ll knock the stuffing out of the old fire. Whoop!”
All of them were kept very busy for some ten minutes. The fire had managed to get such a good start that it was only with difficulty subdued; but as bucket after bucket of water from the well was poured around the kitchen, by degrees it lost its grip; and in the end there was not a live spark to be found.
“That settles it!” exclaimed Alec, almost out of breath with his recent exertions.
The widow was shaking Hugh’s hand and thanking him with tears in her eyes for the part he had taken in the saving of her home. Then she came over to Alec and repeated her words of gratitude. The children only laughed, as though they thought it more or less of a show gotten up for their especial benefit, for they were too young to realize the horrors of fire.
Hugh glanced out of the tail of his eye toward the stout boy who had enjoyed of late the unenviable reputation of being the terror of the town. He wondered what Lige Corbley thought of scouts now, after seeing that they could meet an emergency like this without hesitation.
He could see that the other was hesitating, as though urged on to say something, and yet finding it difficult to express his feelings. Finally, however, Lige walked forward and looked at Hugh in a peculiar way.
“Huh!” he grunted. “I never thought I’d see the day when I had to thank one o’ you scouts for lendin’ a helpin’ hand! But you’ve saved my aunt’s place, and you did pretty well, if I do say it. P’raps after all there may be two halfway decent fellers in your crowd. ’Pears like you mightn’t all be a set of sissies and cowards!”
That was a strange sort of compliment, Alec thought, and he immediately turned his back on the sneering speaker, as though wishing to let him understand that he meant to have nothing to do with a fellow of his stamp.
As for Hugh, he was better able to understand what the real feelings of the rough boy might be. He believed that Lige was secretly forced to respect them after what he had seen, and in saying what he did, he had intended to compliment them. It was pretty hard for him to utter anything that might sound like praise for the scouts, whom he had long derided as milk-and-water boys, following a leader as a flock of sheep follow the bellwether.
Hugh must have thought that Lige had a strange idea of what constituted a coward. According to some people, it would mean any boy mean enough to torment a helpless animal or to pick upon a lad smaller than himself.
“Oh, that’s nothing, Lige,” Hugh remarked lightly, as he turned away. “We were glad to be on hand to help out, though I guess you’d have smothered the fire yourself, even if we hadn’t happened along.”
“I don’t know ’bout that,” muttered Lige, frowning. “When I tackled her one place, she got boomin’ again in another; and I didn’t know how on earth I was goin’ to manage. Anyhow, my aunt, she’s obliged to both of you fellers. So-long!”
As he and Alec rode along the road again, after washing the smut from their faces at the well, Hugh found himself wondering whether this little incident might have any bearing on a change of heart on the part of Lige Corbley. He knew what a consistent hater the other could be, and how deep-rooted, though unreasonable, his detestation of the Boy Scouts was.
“I’m afraid it will take a lot more than that to make him alter his mind about