can show you a number of clippings from the papers that tell of certain things of merit the Oakvale scouts have done in the past.”

“By gum! what’s that shiny medal you’re wearin’, son, stand fur?” suddenly demanded the constable, fixing his glittering eyes on Hugh’s left breast. “She looks a heap like the real stuff to me, an’ gold, at that!”

Hugh at once took it off and passed it over. If ever he felt proud on account of the possession of such a fine medal, that time was then and there, because he believed it was going to save himself and chums a good deal of trouble and time.

The constable put on a pair of glasses with huge horn rims, and peered at the inscription, turning the neat little medal over in his hands. When he looked again at the owner there was a marked interest in his thin and pinched face.

“Tell me, air yuh this same Hugh Hardin it speaks of here?” he demanded, hoarsely, taking a step nearer the halted car.

“That happens to be my name, sir,” replied Hugh.

“Did yuh git this here medal fur savin’ lives when that flood was rampagin’ through the town of Lawrence?” continued the officer, his voice now showing signs of hoarseness that might have come from excess emotion.

“Why, yes. Several of my chums and I were visiting there when that dam up the valley broke, and the bridge over the river was carried away. We had a pretty lively time of it during the few days we were detained there, on account of no trains running. We managed to hold out a helping hand to some of the poor people caught in the flood. You know, sir, that’s what scouts live for, to assist others not so well off as themselves.”

Eben Wheezer heard the boy through. Then he did a number of queer things, first of all ramming that ancient pistol out of sight in one of his pockets, and then actually holding out a thin and trembling hand to Hugh.

“Say, son, I want tuh shake hands with yuh, that’s what I do!” he startled them by saying, enthusiastically. “This hold-up is all off, yuh understand. I was an old fool tuh take that rascal’s seegar, and b’lieve half he says tuh me ’bout some boys comin’ along the road here as how he reckoned had stole a car, and that there was likely tuh be a reward offered fur their apprehension, which I might jest as well rake in as the next un. But I kin see it all now, an’ I’m right glad tuh meet up with Hugh Hardin.”

“What do you know about me, Mr. Wheezer?” asked the patrol leader, flushing at the same time with pleasure as he felt the cordial grip of that lean hand.

“Oh! only this, son,” laughed the old constable, pumping the boy’s hand as though he might be the milkman making up a deficiency in his cans, “it happens that I had an ole wife a visitin’ over there in Lawrence at the time that dam broke. Yes, and, what’s more, she told me it was a boy named Hugh Hardin that kim along with some other scouts in a rowboat and saved her from a house that was a-floatin’ off in the flood. Huh! think I’d ever forgit that name when it belonged to the lad who kept me from bein’ a forlorn widower? This here is a joyous occasion for me, I tell yuh.”

Bud gave a whoop, and danced around like a crazy thing.

“Talk to me about bread cast upon the waters returning before many days,” he was crying excitedly. “Did anybody ever hear the equal of this! See, Hugh, how your good deeds repay you heaps of times over. We thought we had run across another enemy, and he turns out to be a bully sort of a friend. Won’t you shake hands with me, Mr. Wheezer, even if I wasn’t lucky enough to be in that bunch that did such good work at Lawrence—the honor of that exploit goes to Hugh, here, Billy Worth and Monkey Stallings. But, then, we’re all chums, you know, sir, and in the same boat.”

The delighted constable was only too glad to oblige Bud, and so warm was his grip that possibly the other felt a tinge of regret at insisting upon being given a hand-shake. Blake Merton felt that it would not do for him to be left out in the cold, so he had to grimace and bear it when Eben got to working his lean fingers.

Indeed, all of the boys felt they had good reason for feeling thankful. What had threatened to prove a disaster and promised to overwhelm their plans was now working in their favor. The wearing of his badge, given by Scout Headquarters to those members of the organization who have saved human life at great peril to themselves, had turned out to be a most wonderful blessing to them. Instead of being held up, perhaps thrust into a miserable country lock-up until the next day, with their plans ruined, they were now free to proceed along their way.

Hugh did not want to lose any more time than could be avoided, so instead of entering into a long conversation with the constable, he hastened to say:

“If we were not in such a great hurry, Mr. Wheezer, it would give me great pleasure to stop over with you, and visit your home, to meet your wife. I reckon I would know her again if I saw her. I’d be glad to tell you the story of what happened over in Lawrence when the flood swept down the valley. But we have a big stake in trying to make that camp by tonight. One of my chums here has a cousin in the battery who stands to lose a fortune if we are kept back; and the man who hired that rascal you met hopes to win it. So you’ll excuse us if we say good-bye now, and thank you for being so kind.”

The constable had already removed the log from the road, and now he unfastened his stout rope from the tree to which he had attached it.

“No apologies needed, son,” he hastened to say, cheerily. “Yuh knows your business best, and if yuh chase after it in the same way yuh won your spurs over tuh Lawrence, I reckons now yuh’ll upset all the kalculations o’ thet schemer. Good-bye an’ good luck tuh yuh, boys!”

He waved his official hand to them as they shot forward, and the last Blake saw of the odd, though good-hearted country constable, he was standing there in the road looking after the retreating car, and still waving his sombrero, while that bright nickel star on his manly breast gleamed in the rays of the westering sun.

“Congratulations, Hugh!” cried Blake, bubbling over with delight over their recent narrow escape. “They say chickens come home to roost, and that good deeds will pay a fellow back a thousand fold. Well, I want to tell you there never was such a positive illustration of their truth as this.”

“The best of it is,” laughed Hugh, happily, “that no matter how much our enemy plots against us, something comes along to upset all his calculations. He thought we were stuck there all afternoon, with an engine out of joint, but Bud here fooled him. Then there was that broken bottle game, which did hold us up a bit; but in spite of a slit tire we got started again. Last, but far from least, he fixed up this clever trick of telling the old constable three boys had stolen a car, and were coming along the road a ways back; also hinting that there might be a good reward offered for capturing the rascals and holding them over-night in the town cooler. But again our luck held good, and we slipped through.”

“I’m satisfied now,” asserted Blake Merton, “that nothing is going to keep us from getting there some time tonight. I’ll hunt up Felix right away, talk to him like a Dutch uncle, get him to write that letter, and then the first thing in the morning we can start back home again.”

“If anything goes wrong with the car, we’ll find some other way of returning, make up your mind to