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diff --git a/old/64566-0.txt b/old/64566-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 609fce2..0000000 --- a/old/64566-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8042 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Safety First Club and the Flood, by W. -T. Nichols - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Safety First Club and the Flood - -Author: W. T. Nichols - -Illustrator: F. A. Anderson - -Release Date: February 18, 2021 [eBook #64566] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Demian Katz, Craig Kirkwood, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Images courtesy of - the Digital Library@Villanova University - (http://digital.library.villanova.edu/)) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SAFETY FIRST CLUB AND THE -FLOOD *** - -Transcriber’s Notes: - -Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - -Additional Transcriber’s Notes are at the end. - - * * * * * - -[Illustration: HIS NEW COMRADE WAS RACING ACROSS THE FIELDS] - - - - -THE Safety First Club _and_ the Flood - - - BY - W. T. NICHOLS - - _Author of_ “THE SAFETY FIRST CLUB” - - Illustrated by - F. A. ANDERSON - - THE PENN PUBLISHING - COMPANY PHILADELPHIA - 1917 - - * * * * * - -COPYRIGHT 1917 BY THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY - -[Illustration] - -The Safety First Club and the Flood. - - - - -Introduction - - -The one school which never needs a truant officer is the School of -Experience. Whether we like it or not, we have to go to this school, -all of us; but whether we shall profit by its lessons or waste the -instruction is wholly a matter of our own choice. In this story Sam -Parker and his friends, some of whose experiences have been earlier -set forth in the first volume of this series, “The Safety First Club,” -take a new course, so to speak, with resultant profit to themselves. -“The Safety First Club and the Flood” finds this group of boys, and -especially its leader, Sam, worried, beset and tried by problems new to -them, perplexing, baffling; not very grave problems, at first glance, -but serious enough in the eyes of the boys and not unimportant in their -consequences--a phase of life, in short, which has very direct concern -to young or old. - -Sam learns his lesson; his mates learn theirs. Incidentally, they -undergo trials of the flesh and of the spirit, and are the better for -both. They meet adventure which, it is hoped, will be found to the -taste of the friends the chums have made and may make through this -volume and those which are to follow it. - - - - -Contents - - - I. THE CLUB CONFERS 9 - - II. VARLEY GETS ACQUAINTED 24 - - III. UNCOMFORTABLE GLORY 39 - - IV. SAM’S COUNSELLOR 60 - - V. SNOW-SHOES 73 - - VI. A LITTLE LUNCH 92 - - VII. THE SHARK LECTURES 105 - - VIII. POKE’S MYSTERY 117 - - IX. SAM GETS A REMINDER 133 - - X. THE BLOW DESCENDS 148 - - XI. THE GREAT MINCE PIE OF SUGAR VALLEY 163 - - XII. EXPLORING THE VALLEY 185 - - XIII. THE SHARK DEMONSTRATES 202 - - XIV. THE HUNT 220 - - XV. THE HOUSE OF REFUGE 237 - - XVI. BLIND TRAILS 256 - - XVII. THE RISING FLOOD 272 - - XVIII. THROUGH THE LONG NIGHT 288 - - XIX. WHAT BEFELL POKE AND STEP 309 - - XX. THE PRIZE SNATCHED FROM THE FLOOD 326 - - XXI. POKE OUT OF BONDAGE 346 - - - - -Illustrations - - - PAGE - - HIS NEW COMRADE WAS RACING ACROSS THE FIELDS _Frontispiece_ - - “GRIN AND BEAR IT” 70 - - “YOU CAN’T RAISE THE MONEY” 160 - - ANOTHER OF HIS PRECIOUS MATCHES 248 - - “WE’LL HAVE TO DRIFT ASHORE SOMEWHERE” 320 - - * * * * * - -The Safety First Club and the Flood - - - - -CHAPTER I THE CLUB CONFERS - - -It was not a cheerful afternoon. Overhead were heavy, gray clouds, -and underfoot was snow, long fallen, crusted by alternate thawing and -freezing, dingy with the queer winter dust, which comes from nobody -knows exactly where. In the beaten track of the roadways was an icy -surface, made still more slippery by a thin coating, at once grimy -and greasy, offering easy traction for the sledges, piled high with -wood, which now and then came crunching along the streets. But it was -full of peril to the motor cars, a few of which were abroad, skidding -wildly at corners in spite of chained tires and careful driving. Out -in the fields the snow was perhaps a foot deep. Where paths had been -shoveled the long mounds beside the walks rose almost to the waist of a -man of average height. Altogether, it was a typical February scene in -Plainville, a town well to the north, accustomed to hard winters and -making the best of one of them, scarcely enjoying the experience but -accepting it as inevitable. - -Sam Parker, muffled to the chin, mittened and rubber-shod, appeared to -be imitating the example set by the town. He trudged along, whistling -bravely if not blithely; and quickened tune and pace a trifle when he -came in sight of a little building in the lee of a big house. Turning -in at the gate, he hurried up the path to the smaller building; rapped -thrice upon the door--there was hint in the performance of hasty -observance of a customary rite; and, without awaiting a response, -opened the door and strode in. - -It was a curious room he entered, low-ceiled, rough of wall and -floor, furnished with the most miscellaneous collection imaginable of -discarded chairs, tables and lounges from half a dozen homes. There -were rugs which showed signs of long and hard wear; there were old -pictures in frames still bearing the dust they had gathered in years -of retirement in garrets and storerooms. Other pictures, unframed and -evidently cut from newspapers and magazines, were tacked here and there -on the walls. Nevertheless, in spite of the confusion and disorder the -place had a certain attractiveness and an air of easy-going comfort, -with a suggestion that here one might do as one pleased. A visitor, -skilled in such matters, might have more than suspected that once upon -a time this had been a stable, but now anybody who could read must -quickly grasp its present uses; for boldly chalked on an old blackboard -was inscribed in capital letters - - “THE SAFETY FIRST CLUB.” - -Sam pulled off his cap and overcoat, and tossed them into a corner. -His overshoes followed them. Then, being relieved of his out-of-door -toggery, he crossed to the stove, and stood beside it, rubbing his -hands in the grateful warmth. A plump youth moved aside to give him a -place by the fire; and a boy, tall and thin and quaintly sharp-angled -of knee and elbow, hailed him from the depths of a dilapidated -steamer-chair. - -“Huh, Sam! Know anything?” - -“Nothing new, Step,” Sam answered. - -The boy in the low chair grunted dismally. “Ugh! Confound it, there -never is--this time of year, anyway!” - -Sam did not attempt to debate the point. For a moment he regarded -Step thoughtfully--“Step,” it may be explained, was a contraction of -“Stepladder,” a nickname bestowed by his mates upon Clarence Jones -because of a degree of resemblance in his physical make-up to that -useful article of household equipment. Then Sam’s glance went to the -plump boy, Arthur Green in official records, but “Poke” to those -honored with his intimate acquaintance. One could poke a finger almost -anywhere into the well-rounded Arthur; hence the sobriquet. - -“Poke” Green appeared to be meditating. His lips were pursed, and there -was a line in his forehead. He loved his bit of philosophy, did Poke; -but it took time for him to put his meditations into words. - -Sam’s gaze traveled to a group about a table, on which were scattered -magazines and a number of well-thumbed books. Two of the boys nodded. -They were Herman Boyd and Harry Walker, more often called the “Trojan”; -and they were good fellows and tried and true members of the Safety -First Club. So, for that matter, was a bespectacled youngster, who from -his place at the Trojan’s elbow was regarding Sam with a peculiar air -of solemnity. Sam, meeting his eye, gave him greeting. - -“Hullo, Shark! What are you trying to figure out now?” - -“Nothing,” said the other curtly. - -“Then you’re wasting time, you old wizard!” quoth Sam. - -The Shark made no reply. Doubtless, it seemed to him that none was -needed. So he merely continued to peer through his spectacles at the -newcomer, with a characteristic intentness which was all his own. - -Willy Reynolds, indeed, was often referred to as an “odd stick.” He -had a mind of marked mathematical bent, and had proved himself so -proficient in algebra, geometry and trigonometry as to puzzle and -amaze his comrades, toiling along paths of learning which appeared to -offer him only entertainment. So they dubbed him the “Shark,” because -he always seemed hungry for mathematics. - -The door opened, and in came a thick-set, sturdily built chap. - -“Hi there, Orkney! Glad to see you!” Sam sang out. It might have been -noted, too, that the others gave the latest arrival a welcome, each in -his own way, even the Shark thawing temporarily. One acquainted with -boys and their ways would have understood that there was some reason -why they wished Orkney to feel himself among friends. - -The thick-set lad answered each in turn, his face lighting as he -spoke. It was clear that he appreciated his reception, as well he -might. Time had been--and not very long before--when Tom Orkney and -the Safety First Club had been at swords’ points, and when each had -woefully misjudged the other. A chapter of accidents had served first -to increase the bitterness on both sides, and then to remove it by -revealing how thoroughly it was due to mistakes and misunderstandings. -And in the end, helped on by sharing common adventures and dangers, had -come reconciliation and respect. In proof of its new and genuine regard -the club had admitted Tom to its jealously guarded circle of membership. - -They were, it may be said, a good lot of boys; healthy youngsters in -their teens--the Shark was the youngest and physically the weakest; -well intentioned but not wise beyond their years; fond of fun and -activity and no prophets of possible consequences of their escapades. -But, as the title of their club indicated, they were learning their -lesson in the school of experience. The wisdom of a policy of “Safety -First” was impressed upon them, though as yet they were not too skilled -in the application of the rule. - -While Tom Orkney was settling himself by the table, Step Jones again -raised his voice in lamentation. - -“I tell you, fellows, this is the meanest, logiest, slowest, stupidest -time of all the year. There’s nothing to do. The snow spoils the -skating, and more than half the time the snow-shoeing and skiing are no -good. Sleighing’s a bore, and coasting’s no use except for kids. And -where does that leave you? Ugh!” - -Nobody answered Step’s question. There was a long silence, broken by -that youth himself. - -“Worst winter I ever saw--yah!” - -Sam Parker shook his head doubtfully. “Oh, I don’t know about that, -Step. Seems to me this is a good deal like all the rest of ’em.” - -“And if you want something to keep you busy, there’s always school,” -put in the Trojan with a chuckle. - -“School? Oh, thunder!” snapped Step with scorn. - -Poke Green waved a hand, an oratorical hand; thereby signifying that he -had reached a readiness to address the meeting. - -“Listen, you fellows! You don’t know what you’re talking about, because -you start in and say things first and think about ’em afterward. So you -get ’em about half right and half wrong.” - -“Go it, old Solomon!” Herman Boyd encouraged. - -Poke needed no spur. “Here’s Step calling this the worst winter that -ever was, which it isn’t. And here’s Sam trying to make out that it’s -just like any other winter, which it isn’t, either. If this climate -ever got as monotonous as all that, it’d go out of business. There have -been better winters that I can remember, and there have been worse. The -trouble with all of them is that there is too much of a muchness about -them.” - -Then the Shark spoke crisply: “Applying that to school, too?” - -“I am,” said Poke solemnly. “This term’s the long pull--no holidays to -break it--no Thanksgiving--not even Washington’s birthday.” - -“They have it in lots of places,” the Trojan put in. - -“Well, we don’t--and I’m talking about us. So right through to the -Easter recess we have to pound away, and it gets tiresome, I tell you. -And what’s true of school is true of the weather. Winter’d be all right -if it ended along in January. Everybody’d feel braced up and ready for -spring. But does it happen that way? No, sir! Winter keeps on doing -business along into March or April--yes, or into May.” - -“Our furnace was going last June,” Herman Boyd contributed. - -Sam’s expression was thoughtful. “Well, Poke,” he said, “I follow your -argument--if it is an argument. But what does it lead to?” - -“To my conclusion,” quoth Poke with all possible gravity. - -“What is it?” - -Poke ran his glance over his club-mates; all were attentive. - -“What is it?” he repeated. “Can’t you see for yourselves that it can be -only one thing? The trouble with us is that we need variety!” - -“But you said the weather was varied,” objected Sam. - -“But it’s winter weather all the time, just as school’s school, no -matter whether you’re reciting Greek or trigonometry. Then there’s -another point. In summer people are coming and going, and making -visits; in winter everybody’s shut up more or less. We don’t get enough -human variety.” - -Sam rubbed his chin. “Why--why, I don’t know but there’s something in -your notion, after all,” he admitted. - -“There’s a lot!” Poke insisted triumphantly. - -It was not often that the Shark laughed; but he laughed now in a -fashion which made his friends turn to him in surprise. - -“Ha, ha! You chaps seem to forget that we have with us in this town -one Paul Varley. If he isn’t a queer variety of human, I’ll square the -circle for you--and that’s something nobody has done yet.” - -“Oh, Varley!” - -“What! That dude?” - -“What have we got to do with him?” - -“Say! Isn’t he the limit?” - -The Shark listened calmly to these remarks of his friends. - -“Well, I said he represented variety, and I stick to it,” quoth he -drily. - -Sam turned to Poke. “Do you mean that we ought to take in Varley?” he -demanded a bit hotly. - -There was a murmur of dissent. Membership in the Safety First Club was -not lightly granted, and Paul Varley was not high in favor. - -“I didn’t mean anything of the sort,” said the Shark. “But if anybody -wants entertainment in this town this winter--why, there’s Varley to -look at.” - -“Yes; and listen to,” Herman Boyd chimed in. - -“Huh! You talk as if you really knew him,” Step commented. - -“I do--after a fashion. But Orkney knows him better.” - -Tom Orkney shook his head. “Guess I’ll refer you to Sam; he knows him -best of all.” - -“Oh, Varley’s a----” Sam began impatiently, but quickly checked -himself. “I dare say he’s a very good fellow,” he added after a little -pause. - -“Hang it, Sam, finish what you started to tell us!” cried Step. - -Sam hesitated. Among the lessons he had been learning was that Safety -First might be as advisable in speech as in action. Besides, he wished -to be fair. It might not happen that any of the club would have a great -deal to do with Varley, but he was well aware that a few careless -words might prejudice all of them against the newcomer. - -“Why--why, I’ve talked hardly half an hour with him altogether. He -seemed to be good-natured.” - -“Didn’t he ride his high horse for you?” - -“Not much--very little,” said Sam. “Of course, he comes from a big -city. And he’s been at big ‘prep’ schools. And he’s used to the rush, -and crowds, and all that sort of thing. I don’t know, though, that he -tried to rub it in--that we aren’t crowded here, I mean. And he did -seem friendly--got to say that for him.” - -“Up here for his health, isn’t he?” queried Step. “Gay life knocked him -out, didn’t it?” - -“He didn’t put it that way. He said he was rather run down, and so his -folks shipped him up here to visit the Bateses--Mrs. Bates is his aunt, -you know.” - -“How long is he going to stay?” - -“I don’t believe it’s settled.” - -“Huh! He’s rigged out as if he were on a polar expedition.” - -Sam’s lips twitched. “Well, he is outfitted pretty gorgeously.” - -“I should say he was!” - -“That’s nothing against him, though.” - -Poke wagged his head sagely. “No; fine feathers don’t make fine birds, -or spoil ’em either. When you take time and think about it----” - -“You wait your turn, Poke,” Step objected. “Let Sam finish.” - -“I’m through,” said Sam. - -“Oh, I guess we’re all through with Varley before we really begin with -him,” quoth Step. “We’ve got our crowd. I don’t see how he can make -much difference to us. We’re all of us right here now, and----” - -Herman Boyd, who had been looking out of the window, whistled sharply, -sprang to his feet, peered through the pane, then retreated swiftly. - -“Whew! Talk about angels or people!” he exclaimed. “Great Scott! but he -must be coming here. I saw him turn in at the gate and----” - -“Who turned in?” - -“What are you driving at?” - -“Who’s coming?” - -They rained questions upon him; but Herman had no need to answer. -Indeed, before he could do so, a hand was laid on the knob, and with no -preliminary knock the door was swung. And there in the opening stood -Paul Varley, quite at his ease and with a complacent smile on his face. - - - - -CHAPTER II VARLEY GETS ACQUAINTED - - -There were seconds in which amazement held the members of the Safety -First Club speechless and almost motionless. - -This open invasion of the privacy of the club was something wholly -outside their experience. A boy who didn’t belong might call there, -of course, if he wished to see one of the members; but he would -be expected to halt outside and hail the club with a shout, or, -at the most, to knock at the door and pause outside. And he would -be quite as anxious to observe this code as the members would be -anxious that he should observe it. A fellow didn’t care to enter -where he was not wanted, and if he had been wanted, he would have -been elected to membership. That was the way the matter was reasoned -out. The conclusion was accepted by everybody in interest. So for -one of the town boys to walk up to the door, and throw it open, and -look in at the assembled coterie, and do these things calmly and -unconcernedly--well, none of the town boys would have thus conducted -himself. But there was Paul Varley doing these things quite as a matter -of course, thus proving himself not of the town and at the same time -bringing embarrassment to the club. - -Varley stepped into the room. “Hullo, everybody!” he said cheerily. -“Thought I’d drop in for a minute--I’ve heard a lot about this joint of -yours, you know.” - -There was no response; surprise still held the members of the club. - -Varley smiled genially. He was perhaps a year older than any of the -Safety First boys, and a great deal more practised in some of the ways -of the world. He ran his eye over the room, and spoke again: - -“Pretty nifty--what! Snug as a bug in a rug, aren’t you?” - -Oddly enough, it was the usually reticent Shark who first found tongue. - -“We like it.” He threw an emphasis on the “we,” to which Varley might -have taken exception, had he been disposed to be critical. But the -caller was not looking for trouble. - -“I should think you would,” he said smoothly. “Fixed it up yourselves, -didn’t you? Thought so. More fun to do it.” - -It did not seem to occur to the Shark that it was his business to make -reply, and nobody else volunteered. Varley took off his cap. It was a -handsome cap of fur. He unbuttoned his overcoat; it was fur-lined. In -fact, from head to heels he was outfitted for very cold weather, as if -his garments had been selected for wear in semi-Arctic regions. Plainly -enough, somebody had told him wonderful tales of winter temperatures -“up country.” - -The evidences that Varley intended to make a stay of some length -stirred Sam to his duties as unofficial head of the club. Somehow, the -rôle of spokesman seemed to fall to him, in times of emergency, by a -sort of common consent. - -“Er--er--why, how do you do?” he stammered. “Won’t you take a seat?” - -Varley shook his head. He was still smiling in his friendly fashion. - -“Why, no; I’d rather look about a bit, if I might,” said he. “I’d heard -so much, one way or another, about this den of yours, that I made up -my mind I’d make a call. Thought, too, I’d find you all in about this -time of day. Say, you’ve got a cracking good hang-out! Said you fixed -it yourselves, didn’t you?” - -Then up spoke the Shark, testily: “Nobody said that.” - -“But it’s the fact, all the same,” Sam hastened to remark. “Yes; what’s -here we did, or made, or whatever you choose to call it.” - -“Smooth work, too,” said Varley quickly. “Garage once, wasn’t it?” - -Inasmuch as the club-house was the property of Step’s father, Step felt -called upon to make reply. - -“No--stable.” - -Varley turned to the tall youth. “Whatever it began with being, it’s -all right now. And it’s a bully good scheme you fellows have. Great -place to loaf, this is!” - -Now this was said affably enough, and with no trace of the -condescending note for which the boys were listening keenly. A chap--an -older chap--from a big city might be disposed to be patronizing; and -the Safety First Club did not care to be patronized. But no fault was -to be found with Varley’s manner. Sam felt moved to explain the plan -the crowd had followed. - -“Oh, we got together what we could,” said he. “Each one contributed. -Somebody brought an old sofa, and somebody else a table his folks -weren’t using any more, and so it went on. And if anybody had a -picture he liked, he hung or tacked it up. That’s the way it went, -and--er--er--that’s about the whole story.” - -Varley nodded, and crossed the room to examine an old engraving. From -this he went to inspection of a very modern cartoon from a newspaper. - -“Liberty hall--I get the idea,” quoth he. “And I like it. Gives -variety. By the way, it’s like the plan they have in some of the big -clubs. Members contribute odds and ends--curios--they pick up. It’ll -make quite a museum after a while.” - -“Or quite a junk shop!” interposed the Shark. He was staring hard at -the visitor through his spectacles, and his expression was dubious, -if not hostile. The other boys moved uneasily. They had begun to -recover from the surprise of the visit, and to understand that Varley -felt himself on a purely friendly errand. Therefore there should -be allowance for his ignorance of the local code, and avoidance of -controversy. The Shark’s speech embarrassed them, but not Varley. He -laughed, lightly and good-naturedly. - -“You’re on the mark, at that. Museums and junk shops are a lot alike; -but that doesn’t prevent ’em from being interesting. Why, I went into -a queer old shop one day, and there was an old machine, with all sorts -of rings and pivots, and hung on ’em was a--a--well, it looked like an -oblong sphere and----” - -“What!” shouted the Shark. - -Varley glanced at him questioningly. “I beg your pardon?” he said with -a touch of formality. - -The Shark drew a long breath. “An oblong sphere!” he repeated slowly. -“Jee-whippiter!” - -Again it was Sam’s duty to explain. “Don’t let the Shark bother you. He -means well, but he’s a bug on mathematics--and cones, and circles, and -cubes, and spheres, and--er--er--and all that sort of thing. But he’s -harmless.” - -Once more Varley’s laugh saved the situation. “I understand. -And he’s right, at that. What I meant was, that the thing was -egg-shaped--almost, but not quite. And that little difference in -shape, the inventor figured, was just what would make it a perpetual -motion machine, that would keep going forever, once you started it. -Of course, it didn’t work. But I say!”--he was looking straight at -the Shark--“I say! If you’re up in the ‘math’ I envy you. It’s my -stumbling-block--gets me every time.” - -“Umph!” said the Shark non-committally. In his experience the world was -strangely crowded with beings woefully deficient in the mathematical -sense. He was learning to make allowances for their shortcomings. The -visitor, by frank confession of incapacity, won a degree of toleration, -if not of approval. - -“Yes; it gets me every time,” Varley went on. “I’ve had half a notion -to see if I couldn’t go into the senior class at your high school, -just to brush up on the mathematical review--maybe I shall yet. But -first I want to get better acquainted with the town and the people. -That’s why I dropped in on your crowd. And now that I’ve said ‘Howdy,’ -I’ll move along.” - -“Oh, don’t be in a hurry,” said Sam politely. - -For the first time the blackboard, with its boldly chalked inscription, -caught Varley’s eye. - -“Hullo! What’s that? Safety First Club? Say, that’s a funny name for a -lot of boys to pick out!” - -“Well, it pleases us,” said Sam, a little curtly. - -Varley’s ready smile was in evidence. “So I supposed, or you wouldn’t -have chosen it. But it’s an odd name, all the same.” - -Sam hesitated an instant. “It--well, maybe it is odd. But some things -happened to impress us with the need of looking before we leaped. So we -agreed on the name. Then other things happened to impress us some more, -and we kept it.” - -“I see,” said Varley; but then he repeated, “Safety First Club, Safety -First?” as if he were still puzzled. “Somehow, that seems to bar a lot -of fun.” - -“Oh, we manage to get along.” - -“Where do you draw the line between what’s safe and what isn’t?” - -Again Sam hesitated. “Why--why, I guess there isn’t any general rule. -You have to settle each case as it comes.” - -“But what’s the rule for settling it?” - -The Shark came to Sam’s assistance. “Law of chances,” he said curtly. - -“Meaning----?” - -“Can you get away with it? Can’t dodge all risks, can you? But when you -have to take one, isn’t there a safer way than the first way you think -of? Just stop and figure. It pays!” - -Varley shook his head. “That’s all right for mathematical sharps,” he -said laughingly; “but I’m not in that class. The tree would fall on me, -or I’d drown, or the bull would toss me over the fence, long before I -could cipher out what the chances were.” - -“Pays, all the same, to try,” the Shark insisted. - -Varley glanced a little inquiringly at Sam. As has been explained, he -was older than the club’s members, and more versed in the ways of the -world; and now he had an intuition that the boys, while satisfied with -their club’s title, were not eager to discuss it with a comparative -stranger. He looked at Sam, but Sam said nothing. - -The visitor buttoned his overcoat. “Guess I’ll be running along,” he -remarked. “Mighty glad to have had a look at your den.” - -“We’re glad you like it,” said Sam, reminded of his manners. - -Varley moved toward the door. He was quite aware that nobody had asked -him to call again, and for the first time since his arrival began to -feel a trifle of embarrassment. - -“Fine place--bully!” he said. “I--er--er--I don’t suppose anybody is -going my way?” - -Now, there was something in the other’s manner which brought a sudden -change in the plans of Sam Parker. Maybe his instinct of hospitality -stirred; he might at least escort this unbidden guest whom he had -failed to welcome warmly. - -“Guess I’ll trot along, too.” He caught up his cap and overcoat, put -them on, and slipped into his overshoes. “Ready, when you are,” he -added. - -Varley said, “Well, so long, you fellows!” and said it jauntily; but -he was silent while he walked away from the club-house with Sam. The -latter also seemed to be tongue-tied. Indeed, the pause threatened to -become awkward for both of them, when Varley, with an effort, ended it. - -“Great winters you have up here!” he said jerkily. “Must be no end of -sport, when you get the hang of things. Can’t say I’ve quite done that -yet.” - -“You’ll get it quickly enough,” Sam assured him. - -“Hope so,” said Varley. “I’d like----” he broke off abruptly. “Hear -that? What’s happening up the street?” - -Sam didn’t answer. Indeed, he had no need to do so. Like Varley, he -had heard the sharp “honk, honk!” of an automobile horn rising above -the jingle of sleigh-bells, and then a woman’s shriek of alarm, and -the quick beat of hoofs on the icy roadway. A horse, drawing a light -cutter, had taken fright at a passing motor car, had got out of control -of the woman who held the reins, and was making a frantic bolt. -Turning, the boys had a glimpse of a wiry bay, neck outstretched, ears -back, red nostrils distended; of a sleigh swaying wildly; of a woman -tugging vainly at the reins. - -“Runaway!” gasped Varley. Then he did the instinctive thing, and the -plucky thing. The horse was very near, and coming fast. Varley sprang -into the street. Promptly as he acted, though, there was a second -in which his eyes were on Sam; and in that instant he had a queer -impression that his companion was about to do as he was doing. But Sam -suddenly appeared to change his plan, for he wheeled, and ran down the -street, approaching the track of the runaway, not directly but on a -long diagonal. - -There flashed on Varley an ugly doubt of Sam’s courage. Then for a -little he forgot everything but the galloping horse, and the part he -meant to play in stopping the maddened animal. He leaped over the piled -up snow lining the sidewalk, and gave a great bound for the horse’s -head. He was not reckoning risk, or chances--or conditions, for that -matter. It had not occurred to him that just at this point the frozen -road, with its thin, greasy coating was extraordinarily slippery -and treacherous under foot. He hardly realized what was happening, -when, as he was about to grasp the bridle, his feet shot from under -him. The shoulder of the runaway struck him. Luckily, it was only a -glancing blow, but it sent him reeling back, out of danger of contact -with plunging hoofs or lunging sleigh. Down he went in a heap, sorely -shaken and with the breath half driven from his body; and there he lay, -recovering his wits and his wind, while he watched Sam, twenty yards -away, score success where he had failed. - -Sam sprang much as Varley had sprung; but he caught the reins close -to the bit, and was not shaken off. Not that he was able to check -the runaway’s career at once--as a matter of fact, he was dragged a -considerable distance. He forced the horse, though, out of the beaten -track and into the deeper snow, and little by little he reduced the -speed. The animal struggled hard, but Sam kept his hold. Two or -three men came running up; and in a moment more the horse was at a -standstill, trembling like a leaf, but again under control; his driver -had been assisted from the sleigh, and was thanking Sam so warmly -for his timely help that the boy, blushing hotly, was glad to beat a -retreat and return to Varley, who by this time had picked himself up, -and was brushing the snow from his overcoat. - -“Great Scott! but that was a star job of yours!” was his greeting. - -“Oh, it was just luck,” Sam answered modestly. - -“Luck?” - -“Yes; luck to find better footing than you had.” - -Varley gave a queer little groan. “Thunder! I didn’t think about that.” - -“Well, right here’s one of the smoothest places you can find anywhere; -you need spiked shoes to stand on it. Farther on, though, it is -rougher--rough enough to give you half a show, anyway. I saw how it was -and ran along a bit. If you’d thought to do that, you’d have been all -right. You made just as good a try as I did.” - -Varley glanced at the other keenly. “Look here! First off, you were -starting straight out just as I did. Then you stopped, and changed your -scheme. You had the real hunch. I was stood on my head, and you got -away with things. And all the difference was, you took time to think.” - -“I tried to,” said Sam quietly. - -“It was a clever plan. But I say!” Varley paused an instant, his -expression half admiring, half uncertain. “Come now! You talk about -belonging to a Safety First Club, yet you pile in in a case like -this----” - -Sam interrupted him. “Our kind of Safety First doesn’t mean wrapping -yourself up in cotton wool and stowing yourself away on a shelf. It -doesn’t mean dodging all risks--you’ve got to take some. But it does -mean finding the best way to take them, if they seem to be necessary, -and cutting them out, if they’re not necessary. That’s all there is to -it.” - -Varley finished his task of brushing the snow from his coat. He -straightened himself, and looked at Sam. - -“Somehow or other, Parker, it strikes me there’s a lot to be said for -that notion of yours,” he remarked with conviction. - - - - -CHAPTER III UNCOMFORTABLE GLORY - - -Sam Parker was disposed to think little and say less of the incident of -the runaway horse. He had come out of the affair with some credit and a -slightly sprained wrist, but he made no mention of either at home or at -the Safety First Club. At school a somewhat vague report was circulated -that there had been a frightened horse and a very good “stop”; but none -of the pupils happened to have been about at the time of Sam’s exploit, -and the story went the rounds without bringing in his name. Sam was -quite content with this; and as he did not see Paul Varley for several -days, he regarded the episode as a closed chapter. - -Meanwhile he was working hard at his books. He stood well in his -classes, though he headed none of them; and he had an incentive for -study. - -Sam expected to spend the last year of his preparation for college -at St. Mark’s, a famous school for boys. He was to go there in the -autumn, after completing the third year of his course at the town high -school; and inasmuch as his father’s consent to this arrangement had -not been easily won, he prized it all the more highly. It had been -granted, indeed, only after a series of adventures had satisfied Mr. -Parker that his son was possessed of certain valuable qualities of -self-reliance and discretion. Sam, reasonably, was greatly pleased with -the outcome, and his satisfaction was increased by the fact that both -Step and Poke were to be sent to St. Mark’s with him, while it was by -no means impossible that one or two others of the club might join the -colony. He looked forward eagerly to his year at the big school, but -with a sensible understanding that good scholarship would be much to -his advantage. - -Sam lacked the mathematical talent of the Shark, just as he had no -such peculiar knack as Step showed in Greek. The tall youth shone in -translations from the tongue of Xenophon and Homer in a manner which -was wholly inexplicable to his friends--as they frequently remarked -with much feeling. In Latin Step was a mediocre performer; his French -left much to be desired, but when it came to Greek--“Why, he eats -it alive!” was Poke’s admiring declaration. Sam, being without such -special genius, found none of his studies very easy--and, no doubt, -profited the more in mental drill because he had to work for what he -gained. His class rank was good, if not distinguished; and he stood -well with the school principal and the other instructors, who saw that -he was an influential fellow among his mates, including many who were -not of the charmed circle of the club. - -Trudging to school one morning--it was several days after the affair -of the runaway--Sam fell in with Poke, who appeared to be in a curious -mood. Ordinarily, Poke was a cheery soul, and good-natured, but this -day gloom was upon him. He answered Sam’s hail with something very -like a growl; and when they fell into step, he groaned unmistakably as -response to the other’s remark that it “wasn’t such a bad morning.” - -Sam looked at him wonderingly. - -“What’s the row?” he asked. - -Poke dug his hands deeper into his pockets, and sank his chin in his -coat-collar. - -“Oh, nothing!” He said it as dismally as if everything had gone wrong. - -“Don’t you feel well?” - -“Well enough--that isn’t it.” - -“But what is, then?” - -Poke hesitated; he seemed to be struggling between eagerness and -reluctance. - -“I--I--well, something’s going to happen.” - -“What?” Sam demanded. - -“Just wish I knew!” cried Poke fervently. - -Sam took him by the shoulder, and shook him vigorously. - -“Wake up, Poke! You’re dreaming.” - -Oddly enough, Poke caught at the suggestion. - -“It was a dream, all right, but it wasn’t a common dream. I tell you, -it was a--er--er--it must have been a warning!” - -“What sort of warning?” - -Poke wagged his head heavily. “My! but I wish to-day was safely over!” -he said ominously. - -Sam laughed. It was a skeptical laugh, but it had a trace of -uneasiness. - -“Go on! You’re joking!” - -Poke heaved a tremendous sigh. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t be talking -about joking if you’d had that dream yourself!” - -“What was it about?” - -“Everything--all mixed up! Course I can’t remember it all--you never -can. But we were in it--all the fellows in the club were. And the -way it went--Geeminy! first thing I knew I was sitting up in bed and -yelling like an Indian. And I couldn’t get to sleep again, and the -thing has been hanging over me ever since. It won’t go away. That’s why -I feel in my bones that something is going to happen, and why I wish -this day were over. Why, Sam, that was the meanest dream, the scariest -dream--the--the----” - -Poke broke off; for round a corner came the Shark and Step Jones. And, -of a sudden, it had occurred to the seer of visions that the Shark was -the last person of his acquaintance who was likely to show sympathy for -such a tale. But the newcomers had caught part of his speech. - -“What you driving at, Poke?” Step inquired. “Talking about dreams, -weren’t you? Go ahead!” - -“Oh, it’s nothing of any importance,” said Poke hastily. - -“Huh! Seemed to be important enough a minute ago,” Step remarked. “What -was the yarn, Sam?” - -Poke preferred to do his own explaining, if explanation there had to be. - -“I was telling Sam a story--yes; a story about a dream I had last -night. And--well, I was telling him, too, that it worried me. It wasn’t -a common dream--not by a long shot! And--and if you’ve got to have -the whole thing, it is worrying me a lot! There’s trouble brewing for -somebody, a heap of trouble.” - -Step regarded Poke with wide-opened eyes and sagging jaw, but the -Shark’s lip curled scornfully. - -“Nonsense!” he jeered. - -“I tell you, it was a warning!” Poke insisted. - -“Warning of what?” - -“Why--why, I don’t know; that’s just the trouble.” - -The Shark was regarding the prophet of evil very steadily. “Poke,” said -he, “what did you eat last night before you went to bed?” - -“Noth--that is, nothing to speak of.” - -“Let’s hear about it, all the same.” - -Poke wriggled, but the Shark’s eye held him. “Well, I was sort of -hungry, so I went out to the pantry, and had a nibble.” - -“At what?” - -“Oh, anything I came across. But it was just a bite.” - -“How many bites?” - -“Oh, a few, I suppose. It was only a snack.” - -“Crackers?” - -“No.” - -“Cake?” - -Poke reddened. “’Twa’n’t cake--it was a piece of pie, if you’ve got to -know. But I don’t see----” - -The Shark gave a queer, barking laugh. “Ho, ho! Pie, eh? Mince pie, -I’ll bet you!” - -Poke tried to assume an air of offended dignity. “Well, it was mince, -if that’s any comfort to you.” - -“Ate a whole pie, didn’t you?” - -“No, sir!” shouted Poke indignantly. “It had been cut.” - -The Shark turned to the other boys. “Oh, come along!” said he. “Guess -we’ve treed the ghost that sat on the foot-rail of Poke’s bed and made -faces at him. We’ll be late at school if we don’t wake up.” - -Sam and Step moved on with the Shark, Poke following dejectedly. - -“All right--have it your own way!” he called after them. “You don’t -have to believe anything’s going to happen, but you just wait and see! -I tell you, this day is going to be a bad one for somebody!” - -It cannot be said that either Sam or Step attached much more importance -than did the Shark to Poke’s forebodings; and the morning’s work -proceeded in a manner to remove all traces of uneasiness. Things went -well for all the members of the club. None of them was tardy. Lessons -appeared to be well learned, and teachers were in good humor. Even Poke -himself shone in recitation, though he droned through his translations -in mournful fashion, and declined to be consoled by approving words -from the instructors. - -At the opening of the Junior class’s English period the principal of -the school entered the room, and after a whispered word or two with the -teacher took the platform. - -“I have an announcement to make,” he said. “I have chosen this time and -place because it deals with something more or less directly connected -with the work of this class in English. And to go straight to the -point, the announcement deals with a very desirable prize, to be -awarded in a competition open to all of you, and in which I hope many -of you will take part.” - -A rustle ran through the assembled class. Everybody was interested, -with the exception of the despondent Poke, who merely slumped a little -lower in his seat. - -The principal cleared his throat, and went on. A friend of the school, -who was engaged in local historical research, was ready to pay one -hundred dollars to the pupil who should produce the best essay on the -settlement and early days of the town. Industry in the collection of -facts would be given quite as much consideration as the style and -finish of the essays. - -“In short,” the principal added, “the conditions will be such that -all of you will find this a fair field of rivalry. It is not the -intention to limit any contestant rigidly in the matter of space; -though I must warn you that waste of words will count adversely. You -can have room for all the facts you gather, but this means room for -concise statement. The contest will close on the first of April, when -the essays must be handed in; and the winner will be announced as soon -thereafter as possible. A detailed statement of the conditions of the -competition will be posted at once on the bulletin-board.” - -Then the principal walked out of the room, and the class broke -discipline for a little to discuss this great news in eager whispers. -A hundred-dollar prize for a composition! That was the way most of -them put the matter. And a hundred dollars seemed to be most inviting. -Besides, there was hardly a boy or girl there who didn’t feel convinced -that in some old aunt or uncle, or, better yet, grandfather or -grandmother, was possible source of just the information that would -win the competition. And style and finish were not to determine the -result--there was a condition much to the general liking; this wasn’t -to be a contest practically limited to the half dozen Juniors with a -known knack for writing. Even the Shark wagged his head approvingly, -though he had no notion of entering the lists, white paper used for -composition instead of figuring being more or less wasted, to his way -of thinking. Only Poke remained indifferent, and sunk in gloom. - -The teacher, presently, called the class to order, and the recitation -proceeded. At its close came recess, and the Juniors, flocking into the -corridors and out to the school yard, fell to discussing the contest -in all its bearings. Sam and his chums happened to be standing near -the foot of the stairs when the principal came down from his office on -the second floor, accompanied by a youth at whom the boys stared in -surprise. For the youth was Paul Varley. - -Paul stopped to speak to the boys, and the principal checked his pace, -as if waiting for the visitor to have his little talk with the others. - -“Maybe I’ll be with you fellows,” Varley said. “Some things I want to -brush up on. I’ve been going over the business with Mr. Curtis”--he -glanced at the principal--“and he thinks he can fix it for me.” - -“But we’re Juniors, and you’ll be a Senior,” Sam remarked. - -“No; more of an unclassified special student. I’ve had a pretty -‘spotty’ preparation, you know; and it struck me it would be a good -thing to look after some of the weak spots while I’m here. So I made up -my mind to---- I beg your pardon, madam!” - -Varley, as it chanced, was the only one of the group who was facing the -entrance. This fact accounted for his sudden change of tone. - -A woman had come into the hall. She was a comfortable, middle-aged, -plump person, whose hat was a trifle awry, and whose manner indicated -much earnestness. - -None of the others had seen her come in, and none suspected her -presence till Varley spoke. Then everybody turned quickly. - -“I’m looking for somebody,” said the woman briskly. “I guess he’s -somewhere round this school. Only--only I ain’t quite as sure as I -ought to be. And--and----” she hesitated, peering at the faces before -her. Compared with the light out-of-doors, the hall was somewhat dim. -“No, I don’t know whether he’s here or not,” she concluded. - -“And his name----?” It was Varley who put the question; for Sam and his -friends appeared to be tongue-tied, while the principal chanced to be -in the background. - -“Mercy me, but I don’t know! That’s the trouble--they didn’t seem to -know, either, any of them--the men, I mean.” - -“Ah!” said Varley courteously, but uncertainly. - -The principal stepped forward. “I’m afraid we don’t understand, madam,” -said he. “If you’ll kindly explain----” - -The visitor laughed. “Dear me, but somehow I always do manage to get -the cart before the horse! But the men, they said they thought---- -Wait a minute, though!” She moved nearer Varley, and studied his face -intently. “Wait a minute! I vow, but this one looks like the fellow. -Yes; he’s the one.... No, he isn’t, either. He’s the boy that tried, -and went rolling head over heels.” - -Varley gave a sudden laugh. “I get it! You’re talking about the -runaway. And you’re right--I was the fellow who took the tumble.” - -“The runaway?” Two or three of the boys spoke in chorus, wonderingly. -Sam Parker instinctively began to edge away. The movement caught the -woman’s attention. A sharp glance at Sam, and her expression brightened. - -“Here he is, sure enough!” she cried. “He didn’t tumble, and he held -on like grim death till the colt stopped, and the men came running up -to help. And then he slipped off before I could get my breath or my -manners back enough to say ‘Thank you!’ But I’m going to say it now, -and say it out loud!” - -With that, she briskly pursued the retreating Sam, overhauled him, -and cast an affectionate arm about his shoulders. Then, holding him -prisoner, she addressed all within hearing. - -“I don’t know what you’ve heard or haven’t heard about this, and I -don’t care. I’m going to give my testimony. This boy”--she gave Sam -a vigorous hug--“this boy did a brave thing. He took the chance of -breaking his neck, when my colt was frightened by one of those pesky -automobiles and made a bolt. This boy”--another hug--“stopped him, and -saved me from being killed, or getting an awful spill. And I’ve come -here to look him up, and thank him good and proper--so there!” - -Now, to tell the truth, Sam at the moment looked anything but a hero; -for he was wriggling and struggling vainly, and blushing furiously -and unhappily. So public and so demonstrative a display of gratitude -overwhelmed him. - -“I--I--oh, ’twasn’t anything,” he stammered. - -“I tell you, it was a whole lot to me!” declared the woman. “And I’ve -been racking my brains how to show how I feel about it.” Again her arm -tightened, and for a panic-stricken second Sam thought she was about -to kiss him then and there, and in the presence of the crowd. He made -a frantic effort for freedom, and his captress, who may have had some -notion of boyish diffidence, released him, her eyes twinkling. - -Sam would have given much for the privilege of instant flight; but -luckily kept his wits and held his ground. To run away would be merely -to add fuel to the fire of ridicule to which he believed his mates -would subject him. So he tarried, and miserably attempted to smile, -thereby deceiving nobody, and least of all the visitor. - -With a degree of tact she turned to the principal. - -“You’re Mr. Curtis, aren’t you? I thought that was your name. Mine’s -Grant--Mrs. John Grant. I live over in Sugar Valley. I guess that’ll do -for introductions, though you might as well tell me this boy’s name, if -you please.” - -“Samuel Parker,” said Mr. Curtis. - -“I won’t forget it, or what its owner did for me. I’ve tried to thank -him, but I ain’t sure that I’ve exactly tickled him in doing it.” She -smiled whimsically, and Sam, in spite of himself, winced. “But what I -hope he’ll understand, and all of you will understand, is that I’m his -friend for life. I’d like to do something to show how I feel about it. -And I will do something!” Suddenly she wheeled to face Sam. “Come now! -All boys I ever heard of liked good things to eat. It may strike you -as not amounting to much, but I’ll send you one of my mince pies----” - -“Oh, but you mustn’t!” Sam protested. “It--it’ll be too much trouble.” - -Mrs. Grant paid scant heed to the objection. “I guess you don’t know -the kind of pie I mean. There’s pies and pies, young man. And you won’t -forget the one I send you.” - -Poor Sam feared that this was likely to prove a very mild statement. -Forget? Would that he could forget the whole affair, or better yet, -that his chums might forget this most embarrassing episode! But while -he grinned feebly, and strove to contrive a fitting speech, Mrs. Grant -came to his rescue by bidding everybody a cheery farewell and taking -herself off, apparently well pleased with the results of her visit to -the school. - -“Well, I feel like old Columbus when he sighted America--he’d come a -long way to find something, and he’d found it. And ’tis quite a drive -in from Sugar Valley, but ’twas worth the trouble. I’ve found out -things. So it’s a good day’s work for me--and, Master Parker, I’ll try -to make it a good day for you, too. You’ll hear from me again and--no; -you wait and see what’ll happen. So good-bye, everybody, good-bye!” - -Out of the door and down the steps she went, smiling broadly, while -behind her silence reigned for seconds. All eyes were on Sam, as he -was most miserably aware. Other pupils had come up in time to hear her -closing remarks, and there was quite a little crowd in the corridor, -including some of the girls. - -One of the latter ended the silence. She tittered nervously rather than -mischievously. There was a ripple of laughter; then some of the boys -set up a shout in the very presence of the principal. - -Poor Sam would have blessed his stars had a trap-door opened beneath -his feet and permitted him to drop out of sight. But the stout floor -remained intact. The principal raised a warning hand, and shook his -head at some of those who were giving way to mirth; but Sam did not -wait for order to be restored. He turned, and blindly forcing a way -through the press, retreated as best he might, but in most unheroic -fashion. He had not been afraid of a runaway horse, but with all -a boy’s diffidence he dreaded the sort of celebrity his exploit -unexpectedly had brought him. - -On the outskirts of the group Poke tugged at the Shark’s sleeve. - -“There now! What did I tell you?” he demanded. - -The Shark peered through his glasses at his friend. Poke was no longer -gloomy. He was grinning with a queer effect of utter complacency. - -“One time or another you’ve told me a lot of idiotic things,” growled -the Shark. “Which particular one do you mean now?” - -“That warning--warning of trouble for somebody.” - -“Rats!” - -Poke wagged his head. “Look here, Shark! I said it, and you heard me -say it. I told you I was sure a heap of trouble was coming to somebody. -Well, it came! Old Sam caught it. I wouldn’t have been in his shoes -just now for--for--for I don’t know what. Neither would you. So the -warning made good!” - -The Shark rubbed his chin with an unusual manner of doubt. -“Why--why--well, it was fierce for Sam. But I--I’d hate to admit----” - -“Course you would!” Poke interrupted. “You’re prejudiced. You don’t -believe in anything unless you can put it in figures.” - -The taunt swept away the Shark’s indecision. “Warning--nothing!” he -snapped. “Too much mince pie, that’s all!” - -Poke’s grin was triumphant. “All right! Call it too much mince pie, if -you want to. But wait till Sam gets that pie that’s promised him, and -the crowd hears about it! Then I guess you’ll think I was right all -through.” - -“Huh!” grunted the Shark skeptically. - -Poke laughed aloud. “Ho, ho, ho! I don’t beat you often, Shark, but -when I do, I beat you all to pieces. Talk about mince pie, if you want -to. I’ll talk about it, too, and when we get through, we’ll see who -hits nearer the truth. Just you wait and see, and----” - -But the Shark was moving away. For once, at least, he found it -impossible to maintain argument against Poke, the unmathematical -philosopher and seer of strange visions. - -Sam’s good deed had brought him most embarrassing reward. Of this the -Shark was quite as convinced as Poke could be, or Sam himself. - - - - -CHAPTER IV SAM’S COUNSELLOR - - -Sam took the matter of Mrs. Grant’s gratitude and the promised pie much -to heart. He was, as it happened, a sensitive fellow, and he was of -the age at which dread of ridicule is perhaps keenest. So he readily -imagined that the whole school was laughing at him and the picture he -must have presented with Mrs. Grant’s stout arm about his shoulders; -and made himself miserable by suspicion of amusement in every glance he -caught and of personal application in every laugh he heard. - -He had been reasonably satisfied with the manner in which he had -stopped the runaway, and might not have objected to a certain amount -of publicity, provided it could have come in the right way. If some -man, who had been a witness of the affair, should have met him on the -street, and clapped him on the shoulder, and growled “Clever job you -did, youngster!” or “Good work, son!”--why, that would have been all -right, and quite in accord with his idea of the proprieties. But to be -hugged and patted, and promised a pie, with his club-mates and others -looking on, to say nothing of the principal--truly, Sam felt that his -was a hard and undeserved fate. - -His behavior was somewhat like that of most stricken creatures; that -is, he sought solitude. He shunned the club. From school he went -straight home, and there, curled up in a corner of the library, read or -studied industriously. Even to his father and mother he said little, -and to neither did he confide a syllable of his unhappy experience. -This sort of thing went on for two or three days, with the natural -result that by much brooding upon his troubles he magnified them out of -all proportion, and made himself so genuinely miserable that, at last, -he was driven in desperation to seek diversion. He tried to find it at -the club, and again his luck was bad. - -Trojan Walker had the gift of mimicry, and Herman Boyd liked to devise -little dramatic scenes. Sam walked in upon the assembled club, just in -time to behold the Trojan, with a shawl wrapped about him to increase -his resemblance to Mrs. Grant, presenting a lump of dough on a toy -pie-plate to Herman, to the extreme delectation of the spectators. Step -and Poke were roaring with laughter, and even the solemn Shark was -chuckling. - -“Heroic youth, accept this slight trifle as a testimonial of my deep -and undying gratitude and affection,” the Trojan was reciting. “You -risked your life to save me, and now you can risk it again. This is no -common pie. It’s a--a--a----” - -There the Trojan hesitated, stammered, paused. He had caught sight of -Sam, standing in the doorway; and something in the other’s face warned -him that he was on dangerous ground. - -Oddly enough, it was the Shark who broke the silence, which for a -moment held the group. - -“Come in and shut the door, Sam,” he said curtly. “You’re making a -draught.” - -But Sam neither closed the door nor advanced into the room. Instead, -he held his position, glancing from one to another of his chums. Poke -laughed nervously; Step fell to rubbing his jaw with a quaint air of -perplexity. The Trojan and Herman instinctively fell back a pace, as if -expecting attack. Sam’s face was white, but his eyes were blazing. - -There was another pause, which seemed very long to all the boys, -watching the newcomer, and perceiving more or less clearly that he was -having a hard fight to keep his self-control. Then, of a sudden, Sam -turned on his heel, and strode out, slamming the door behind him, and -leaving a party no longer in a mood for private theatricals. - -The Trojan cast his shawl into a corner; Herman dropped weakly into a -chair. Poke, staring at the door beyond which Sam had vanished, spoke -for all of them. - -“Gee--minee!” he quavered. “But who’d ’a’ thought he’d take it as hard -as all that?” - -Meanwhile Sam was hurrying along the street. When he came to his -father’s place, he turned in at the big gate, but instead of going to -the house marched to the barn. There in a combined harness room and -workshop he came upon Lon Gates, coachman, chauffeur, gardener and -general factotum of the Parker household, and also often counsellor and -sometimes consoler of its youngest member. - -A glance showed Lon that Sam was flying storm signals. Out of the -corner of an eye he watched the boy, who had dropped upon a bench near -the little stove. A full minute passed before either spoke. - -“Well?” Lon drawled, finally. - -Sam made no reply, but stared industriously at his shoes. - -Lon went on with his work--he was repairing a harness. He fitted a new -buckle in place of an old one; tested it; glanced again at his young -friend. - -“I dunno, Sam, but you’d feel better if you got it out of your system,” -he remarked leisurely. - -No response from the youth on the bench. - -Lon continued his task for a time. Then he began to whistle. Sam -stirred uneasily. - -“What’s the matter? Out o’ tune, am I?” Lon inquired. - -“Way out!” snapped the boy. - -Then Lon laughed. “Ha, ha! Must ’a’ ketched it off you, son. What’s the -trouble, anyhow?” - -“Noth--nothing.” - -“All right--tell me about it.” - -Sam raised his head. “Oh, it’s nothing--nothing to talk about, that is.” - -“Well,” said Lon meditatively, “it pays to experiment now and then. -You never can tell ’bout some things. And there is sort of a relief, -somehow, in usin’ the human voice--kinder safety-valve effect. And it -looks to me as if you’d been bottlin’ up steam long enough.... T’other -boys been rilin’ you, did you say?” - -“Yes--but I didn’t say so.” - -Lon waved a hand. “Well, now you’re started, go ahead. I’m listenin’.” - -Sam hesitated. “It--it’s a long story.” - -“What’s the odds? It’s a long time before we have to knock off for -supper.” - -“Oh, I couldn’t tell you everything.” - -“Couldn’t, eh? That club o’ yourn in it?” - -“Hang the club!” cried Sam hotly. “I’ll never go there again!” - -Lon shook his head. “All right, maybe, only--only what do you fellers -call yourselves? Beats all how I forget names!” - -“It’s the Safety First Club.” - -“Why, so it is! And ‘Safety First’--that’s your motto, ain’t it? Good -’un, at that! It’ll keep you out of lots of mix-ups by makin’ you stop -to think twice before you do things or say things you’ll be sorry for.” - -The red crept into Sam’s face. “Oh, well, Lon,” he said, “maybe I’ll go -there again some time. But I wouldn’t now--you couldn’t hire me to. The -way that crowd treated me----” - -“Hold on! All the crowd?” - -Sam reflected briefly. “Orkney wasn’t there,” he admitted. “But he’d -have been as bad as the rest.” - -“Don’t be too sure of that,” Lon advised. “That Orkney boy thinks a -heap of you, Sam--all the more, likely’s not, ’cause you’re kinder an -acquired taste with him. Mind how you two started to scrap, and how you -misjudged each other, and how he ran away, and how you was mighty glad -to have a hand in bringin’ him back? And----” - -Sam stopped him. “Lon, that’s all true. But that’s another story. This -one’s about me, and I--well, I’m the goat. And for that crowd to keep -bringing up to me how that woman grabbed me, and told me she’d give me -a mince pie--but say! I didn’t mean to tell you.” - -“I know you didn’t,” said Lon calmly. “But now you might as well go -ahead, and fill in the blanks in the yarn.” - -Sam drew a long breath. It would be a relief to have a confidant, and -he trusted Lon’s discretion. - -“Well, I’ll tell you--tell you the whole thing,” he said, and plunged -into the narrative, beginning with his dash for the head of Mrs. -Grant’s runaway horse, and continuing through the scene at the school -and the interrupted performance at the Safety First Club. - -Lon listened with admirable gravity. He understood perfectly Sam’s -frame of mind. - -“Jesso, jesso!” he remarked sagely, when the tale was told. “Riled you -all up, Sam, didn’t it? But I dunno’s there’s anything real fatal about -it. The Grants are mighty nice folks--I know ’em. Fine place they’ve -got over to Sugar Valley, too. And Mis’ Grant--she meant all right, -only she didn’t realize, mebbe, that a boy’s more or less like a rabbit -when it comes to public pettin’, and behaves accordin’. So, if you’d -cut and run----” - -“I couldn’t,” Sam explained hotly. - -“Good thing you couldn’t. Same way when Mis’ Grant makes good with that -mince pie----” - -There Sam’s wrath exploded. He raged for a moment or two, Lon listening -patiently. - -“Well, it’ll be some mince pie,” he said at last, when the boy had -paused for lack of breath. “If I was you, I wouldn’t be declinin’ it -ahead o’ time and sight unseen. You can never tell, you know, how the -thing may strike you when it happens. Maybe you’ll be hungry, and maybe -you’ll feel like treatin’ that club of yours----” - -“No--no, siree! I’m through with ’em!” Sam managed to gasp. - -“Umph! Not flocking with ’em much, eh?” - -“You bet not! Not after the way they ragged me!” - -Lon meditated briefly. “Sam,” he said, “you’re an amazin’ human -critter. Fust and last, you have got a power o’ human ways about you. -And I reckon most every human with any spunk one time or another makes -up his mind the whole world’s against him, and starts in to fight it. -So he tries to kick the world ’round for a while, and likely’s not -keeps it up until he notices that he’s stubbed his toe and the world -ain’t takin’ any interest to speak of.” - -“Huh!” - -Lon chuckled softly. “Te he! Say! Wonder if I ever told you about old -Brodman.” - -There was a little pause. Then Sam said, “Guess not.” He spoke half -curiously, half unwillingly. - -“Well, old Brodman was a pretty decent citizen--all right in his way. -But he was jest as human as you, Sam. So it happened once he got to -figgerin’ that the town was down on him and treatin’ him mean. ‘I’ll -get even with ’em,’ he says to himself; ‘I’ll have nothin’ to do with -’em.’ So off he goes, and flocks all by himself for a good, long spell. -At last, though, it gets sorter tiresome, and back he trots, and runs -smack into one of his old neighbors. ‘Hello!’ says the neighbor, -casual like. ‘How do you do?’ says old Brodman, all dignified. The -neighbor yawns and looks at the sky. ‘Kinder threatenin’ rain, ain’t -it?’ says he. Old Brodman glares at him. ‘Look here!’ says he, ‘don’t -you and all the rest of the town know I’ve been away? Hain’t ye missed -me?’ ‘Wal, I wouldn’t exactly call it “missed,”’ says the neighbor. -‘You see, Brodman, ’most everybody thought you was in jail.’” - -Sam sprang to his feet. He crossed the room to a window, through which -he stared industriously. - -“If you’d like to have the moral o’ that story,” Lon went on, “it’s -that one human can’t buck all the rest. The odds are too big. What’s a -ton to him ain’t a featherweight to the world. And applyin’ that moral -to a case nearer home, I’d say you’d better make up your mind to go -back to your crowd, and grin and bear it. And the more you grin, the -less you’ll have to bear.” - -[Illustration: “GRIN AND BEAR IT”] - -“I won’t do it.” - -“Umph! Safety First! Ain’t that your motto?” - -“It doesn’t apply here.” - -“’Deed it does! Don’t let your notions get twisted.” - -Sam continued to stare out of the window. “You’re asking too much, Lon. -I can’t stand being a butt for a lot of fool jokes--I won’t stand it!” - -“What’ll you do? Turn hermit?” - -“Why--why, no.” - -Lon resumed his work. There was a long pause before he spoke. - -“Sam, you take my advice. You’ve been mopin’ around the place for -two-three days. Get out and stretch your legs. Take a big tramp--a -reg’lar hike. Wonderful what a lot of brain fog you can walk away from -if you walk far enough.” - -Sam shook his head. “No fun in that. It’s beginning to snow, too.” - -“Well, go to-morrow, then. A fresh fall will make crackin’ good -snow-shoein’.” - -“No fun going alone.” - -Lon grinned. “Son, I guess, after all, that story about old Brodman did -sink in.” - -“Huh! Don’t think it’s much of a story,” Sam growled, and moved toward -the door. - -“That depends,” Lon called after him. “A story’s like a crowbar--makes -all the difference in the world whether you use it right or wrong.” - - - - -CHAPTER V SNOW-SHOES - - -The morning dawned clear and still. Over night there had been a fall of -several inches of snow, freshening the white of the winter landscape. -Even the roadways were not dingy now, while the fields were broad and -smooth and shining expanses. Sam heard the call of out-of-doors, but -hesitated to obey it. The day was his, to do with as he pleased, for -it was Saturday, and there was no school session. But, somehow, the -call was of the sort that one ought not to hear alone, being, indeed, a -comradely, sociable call of good fellowship. - -To make the most of such a day one ought to be with one’s chums. Sam -understood this perfectly--and stubbornly fought the understanding. -Lon’s advice had not been wasted, though it had not persuaded Sam to -seek the Safety First Club boys again. - -After all, his problem was not so simple as it might appear to be. -In addition to the resentment felt by a sensitive fellow, something -was involved which, for want of a better term, might be called “club -politics.” Sam had been the leader of the crowd and of the club. -Often his had been the deciding opinion, when his mates had failed -to agree. It can hardly be said that he had consciously sought the -leadership, but it could not be denied that he enjoyed it. And he was -a sufficiently shrewd judge of boy nature--which is a good deal like -human nature in general--to realize that a leader who is laughed at is -not likely to retain his prestige. Besides, he had failed to take the -easy way out of his trouble at the beginning. If he could have laughed -with the others, and made a joke of his embarrassment, the whole affair -might now be an old story; but the others having rocked with laughter, -while he stood miserably silent, it was still a story the club found -intensely diverting. - -Sam pressed his nose against the window-pane, and stared unhappily at -the crisp, white snow. It was very inviting--but the idea of a lonely -tramp did not appeal to him. And while he gazed disconsolately, Paul -Varley came along the street, with a pair of snow-shoes under his arm. - -Sam regarded him hungrily. To tell the truth, Varley filled the eye. -His gay-colored knitted cap was set jauntily on his head; a mackinaw -jacket of striking pattern was buttoned about him, and leggins and -moccasins added to the general effect of his apparel. - -Sam watched the city youth disappear up the street. Then, suddenly, he -turned from the window. Inspiration had seized him. - -Varley undoubtedly would put on his snow-shoes when he reached the -outskirts of the town, and strike out over the hills. If he kept near -the main road, it would be possible for a pursuer to use a short-cut, -and overhaul him without much difficulty. Just at the time, too, -Varley was almost the only fellow with whom Sam felt that he could -foregather without sacrifice of pride, for in the matter of the runaway -Varley’s part had been sufficiently inglorious. So Sam made haste. He -got himself into cap and coat, and laid hold of his snow-shoes, and -departed by way of back streets and paths which lessened distance. -Where the houses were few and far between, and there were long -stretches of snow unmarked by runner or footprint, he adjusted his -snow-shoes with practiced care, and headed up a little valley, marked -here and there by clumps of trees. Traveling briskly, he soon reached -the end of the valley, and climbed a low hill to his left. At its top -ran the road Varley was likely to follow. So shrewdly had Sam made -his calculations that, when he gained the summit, he saw the other -approaching and hardly a hundred yards away. - -For a novice Varley was not doing badly. His speed, to be sure, was not -great, and he floundered along a bit clumsily on his web-supports; but -he took no tumbles while Sam waited for him to come up. - -“Hullo, Parker!” he called out, as he drew near. “Where did you drop -from?” - -“Oh, I’m just taking a little breezer,” responded Sam carelessly. -“Pretty good going, eh?” - -Varley laughed. “I guess it’s good; I don’t know. This is a new game -for me.” - -Sam surveyed him from head to foot. “Well, you’re rigged for it, -anyway.” - -“Oh, I outfitted at one of the big sporting-goods stores before I left -the city. Sometimes I wonder if I didn’t rather overdo it.” - -“You’re all right,” said Sam shortly, if encouragingly. “Say! that’s a -newfangled sandal you’ve got there.” - -Varley glanced at the leather foot-piece attached to the snow-shoe and -into which his foot fitted snugly. - -“They told me it was the latest thing. Somehow, though, I’m not sure -that it works as it ought to.” - -Down went Sam on his knee. He made close inspection; pulled -experimentally at one of the sandals; shook his head. - -“Your left foot’s too far back--gives you no toe-hold. Want me to shift -it?” - -“Wish you would!” said Varley heartily. With interest he watched Sam -set to work deftly, loosening the thongs which bound the sandal to the -web and then readjusting them and knotting them firmly. - -“There! Guess that’ll give the play you need,” said Sam, and stood up. - -Varley nodded. “Feels better, anyway. And I say! Mind, do you, if I -trot along with you?” - -“Course not--come along!” Sam told him with real heartiness. - -Varley ran his glance over the miles of country visible from the little -elevation on which they stood. The morning air was wonderfully clear, -and the snow glittered bravely in the wintry sunshine. - -“Oh, but this is bully!” he exclaimed. - -“’Tis pretty good,” Sam admitted. “Look! Notice that peak sticking up -to the north--way off--right on the sky-line? That’s old Pequaket--one -of the big hills, you know. It’s all of seventy miles off--you can’t -see it, except when things are right. And the little mountain to the -south--that’s Rainbow. ’Tisn’t much of a mountain, at that, but somehow -it manages to make quite a show. And there’s a hotel at the base of it. -Nice place, too. Began by being a summer house, but now one wing’s kept -open for folks who come up for winter sports.” - -Varley shaded his eyes with his hand. “How far away’s the little -mountain--Rainbow, you called it, didn’t you?” - -“Oh, eight or nine miles.” - -Out went Varley’s arm. He pointed to a gap in a ridge to the right. - -“That’s a queer jog off there. What is it? Railroad cut?” - -“No; it’s the entrance to Sugar Valley.” - -“Ah,” said Varley politely, but without especial interest. - -Sam felt the blood rush to his face, but plunged ahead with the -explanation he seemed to be bound to make. “The valley widens out a lot -a little way in. And there are some fine sugar camps--that’s how the -place gets its name.” - -“Sugar camps?” Varley repeated doubtfully. - -“Yes--for making maple sugar.” - -“Oh, maple sugar? I get you. I’d like to see ’em make it.” - -Sam could have hugged him. Plainly enough, Sugar Valley did not suggest -Mrs. Grant and her manifestation of gratitude. - -“You’ll have plenty of chances. The season comes when the snow goes. -Now let’s get along! Care where we go?” - -“Not a bit,” said Varley. “You lead.” - -It was rather incautious permission. Sam, elated by discovery of a -companion who appeared to have lost sight of the runaway and its -consequences, cheered by fellowship, and with the magic of the bracing -air and the sunshine to set his blood coursing swiftly, set out at a -pace which soon left Varley floundering far in the rear. Observing -this, Sam halted for the other to overtake him, and went on more -sedately, pausing now and then to give Varley a helpful hint. The city -boy was an apt pupil. He learned quickly, but it was clear that his -strength was not great. Sam, who was an observant fellow, slackened -pace still more. - -With such a day, though, neither of the pair was likely to consider -very seriously the distance covered. They went on and on, sometimes -tramping over the unbroken snow beside the road, sometimes making -detours across promising fields. Once or twice they invaded wooded -tracts, but roots and branches proved too big a tax on Varley’s skill, -and they promptly made for the open. They were in high spirits, the -novice’s occasional tumbles seeming to be as entertaining to him as to -his instructor. - -At last, as they halted on the top of a small hill, a sound came to -their ears, a far-off sound, not loud but distinct, and often repeated. - -“What’s that?” Varley asked curiously. - -“Guess!” said Sam. - -The other listened intently. There’s no stillness more wonderful than -that of a calm day when the snow lies deep on the ground, and the earth -seems to be dozing comfortably under its white coverlet. Tap, tap, -tap! came the distant sounds, breaking the silence with almost the -regularity of the beat of a pendulum. - -“I--I can’t imagine what makes those sounds, but they’re--well, they’re -clear-cut--if you can call it that.” - -“You’re guessing better than you knew,” quoth Sam. “Wood-chopper over -in the woods yonder.” - -“You mean a lumberman?” - -“More likely some farm-hand getting out fire-wood.” - -“I’ve never seen a tree cut down--a big tree, that is.” - -Sam laughed. “Well, that chap probably isn’t leveling any forest -monarch, but if you’d like to see him work, there’s no reason why you -shouldn’t. Come ahead!” - -Off they set again, Sam leading. They crossed a valley at the foot -of the hill, mounted a gradual slope on the farther side, climbed an -old stone wall, and found themselves in a wood lot, fairly free of -undergrowth. The sounds of the axe were much louder now. Sam, pointing, -gave a shout. - -“See that treetop sway? We’ll be in time to see it come down!” - -They hurried forward. That is, Sam hurried and made progress. Varley, -also making haste, caught a snow-shoe on a hidden obstruction, and took -a magnificent header into a drift. He was struggling up in a second, -powdered with snow from head to foot, with snow up his sleeves and down -his neck, but grinning cheerily in spite of his mishap. - -Sam, glancing back, shouted again. Varley took a step forward. Then -suddenly he cried out, sharply, warningly. - -The tree was no longer swaying back and forth. Instead, the tall trunk -was falling like a great beam swinging on a pivot at its base. Its -limbs tore through the boughs of its smaller neighbors, but above the -noise of cracking and breaking wood rose a voice, shrill with alarm. - -It was all over with startling swiftness. Here was a case in which -fractions of a second counted. The woodsman, stepping back when his -final blow with the axe had been delivered, had heard Sam’s shout. -For an instant his attention had been distracted; and in that fateful -instant the course of the falling tree was diverted from its original -direction. When the man became aware of his peril, the trunk was -descending straight upon him. He tried to spring aside, but it was too -late to escape. He was caught, hurled to the ground, and held there, -with the tree trunk fairly across his body. - -Varley had had just a glimpse of what was occurring. It was because -of this that he had cried out, instinctively trying to give warning, -though he hardly realized the full danger to the man, of whom he first -caught sight just before the tree struck him. - -Sam, who had not perceived how near they were to the chopper until -Varley gave him a hint, needed but a glance to understand the sort of -accident which had befallen. He dashed to the side of the prostrate -workman, caught his arm, and tried to drag him from beneath the tree. -The effort was in vain. The man groaned feebly, and opened his eyes. - -Varley, quivering with excitement, came up, and tugged uselessly at the -tree trunk. - -“Can’t we lift this? Tell me what to do--anything! I can’t stir it--it -must weigh tons!” he exclaimed. - -Sam was doing his best to think fast and clearly. The chopper, a big, -powerful fellow though he was, could do nothing to help himself. Even -had he suffered no injury he was so pinned down that he was held as if -he were trapped. But for the deep cushion of snow he must have been -terribly crushed; and even this had not served to save him from hurts -which the boy believed to be serious enough. - -The man spoke faintly, brokenly: “Get--get somebody! Over on the -road--there’ll be somebody drivin’ along.” - -Sam bent over him. “Where’s the nearest house?” - -“Too--too far. And only the women folks to home. Try the--the road!” - -“Where are you hurt--worst?” - -The man made a feeble attempt to raise his head. With an effort he -suppressed a moan. Big drops of sweat were showing on his forehead. - -“Ribs--two-three cracked or--or caved in. Hur--hurry, can’t ye?” - -Varley caught Sam’s sleeve. “I’ll go! Best thing to do. I’m no good -here, and you may be. All right?” - -Sam nodded. He did not see what service he could render by remaining; -yet he was unwilling to desert the sufferer, and Varley could do as -much as he could in summoning passers-by to the rescue. - -“Beat it, then!” he said crisply. - -Varley set off at the best pace he could make; and while Sam was -studying the problem of first aid under difficulties, his new comrade -was racing across the fields. Breathless from his exertions, he reached -the highway just as two youths on snow-shoes came into sight around a -bend. Varley recognized them as Poke and Step. They were not the aids -he would have chosen in such an emergency, but this was not a time for -delay. - -Step hailed him with amazement. “Hullo! What are you doing off here by -your lonesome? Lost, are you?” - -“Come--come along!” Varley panted. “Both--both of you! Man hurt--over -in the woods!” - -“But what are you----?” - -Varley didn’t let Step finish the question. - -“Hustle! It’s a--a bad job. Parker sent me----” - -“What! Sam Parker hurt?” - -Varley wrung his hands in impatience. “No, no! Tree fell on a fellow. -Parker stayed with him, and sent me for help.” - -Step looked vastly relieved. “Oh, that’s it, eh? And Sam’s all right? -And he’s staying with the other chap? Well, he knows what to do, if -anybody knows.” - -So speaking, Step swung one of his long legs over the low wall, and -followed it with the other. - -“Poke and I are just out for a breather--great going, eh? But if you’re -after hustle, I’m your man. So’s Poke. Come along!” - -Varley turned, and headed for the woods, the others keeping close -beside him. - -“If you’ve got wind enough, tell us just what happened,” Step suggested. - -Varley did his best to comply. It is to be feared, though, that his -story was not very coherent. Indeed, he had given his companions little -more than an outline of the story when they reached the timber. - -Sam had not been idle. He had scraped away a good deal of the snow -about the injured man, and having found a stout pole, was experimenting -with it as a lever, though he had not succeeded in raising the tree -trunk by an inch. - -The victim of the accident was groaning faintly; but he pluckily -gritted his teeth, when Step and Poke sprang to the lever, and hoisted -with all their strength. Then Varley added his efforts. The tree rose -very, very slowly. - -“Try to hold her where she is!” Sam told his comrades. - -Bending down, he caught the man by the shoulders, and with all possible -care drew him from beneath the huge, imprisoning bar. The sufferer’s -face was contorted with pain, but his grit didn’t fail him. - -“Goo--good work, boys!” he gasped. - -The three at the lever loosened their hold, and the tree settled back -to its bed in the snow. Varley tore off his gay mackinaw. He was about -to put it under the man’s head when Sam stopped him. - -“Hold on! You’ve given me a hint. We ought to get him out of here and -under shelter. And we need a stretcher.... Don’t roll up that jacket. -Button it, though, and see that the sleeves are clear.” - -Varley obeyed, wonderingly, while Sam stripped off his own overcoat. - -“Get a couple of poles--good, straight ones!” he said curtly to Step -and Poke. - -The former had a big knife; the latter caught up the woodsman’s axe. -In a moment each had cut a promising sapling and was lopping away the -leafless branches. - -Sam slipped an end of one of the poles inside Varley’s coat, and -through the right sleeve. Then he repeated the operation with the other -pole, this time, however, making use of the left sleeve. A moment more, -and he had similarly disposed of his own overcoat at the other end of -the poles, and was drawing the two garments close together. Thus he had -an extemporized stretcher, with the coats as cover and the saplings as -supports. It was not a handsome contrivance, but looked serviceable. -The heavy outer jackets were of stout cloth, and the sleeves would -prevent the poles from working loose. - -And now came a difficult task--the placing of the sufferer on the -stretcher. In this all the boys joined, doing their work as gently as -they could. The woodsman did his best to help, but in spite of his -pluck a deep groan burst from his lips, and his face was ashen when at -last he lay upon the coats. - -At a nod from Sam the boys laid hold of the poles, Sam himself and Step -at the man’s head, and Poke and Varley at his feet. - -“Easy, everybody!” was the leader’s caution, but it was hardly -necessary. With all imaginable care the stretcher was raised, and the -bearers began their slow march. Luckily, the hardest part of it was -soon over. Once they were out of the woods and in the open fields -progress was easier, especially for Varley, who was still far from -master of his snow-shoes. - -Sam had learned where the man lived, and directed their course toward -the house, which was perhaps a quarter-mile from the scene of the -accident. Before reaching it they came to the road, and had to solve a -problem in scaling the wall with their burden. This they accomplished -safely, though not without much trouble; but, as if in speedy reward, -they then experienced an unexpected bit of good fortune. - -A white horse came trotting along the beaten track, drawing a sleigh in -which rode a gray old man, muffled in a huge fur coat. At sight of the -party the old man pulled up. - -“Dr. Emery!” cried Poke and Step joyfully. - -The doctor sprang from the sleigh. He needed no explanation of what had -happened. He made hasty examination of the woodsman; glanced at the -extemporized stretcher; grunted. - -“Huh! Good idea, that! Rough and ready, but it answers. And you’re -bringing him in? Right!” - -The injured man forced the wanest and faintest of smiles. - -“Say, Doc!” he whispered. “Them--them boys--they--they’ve got gumption!” - -The doctor nodded briskly, and began to climb into his sleigh. - -“It’s only a little way to the house--’twouldn’t pay to try to load him -in here. I’ll go ahead, and have things ready to take care of him. Get -him to the door, and there I’ll take him off your hands.” - -Step tightened his grip on the stretcher pole. He looked to Sam for -orders. - -“Give us the word, Sam,” he said. “You’re captain of this team.” - -Sam felt his pulse quicken. Circumstances had done for him what he -would have been puzzled to do for himself. Once more he and his chums -of the club were on the good old terms of fellowship. - - - - -CHAPTER VI A LITTLE LUNCH - - -“Well! I’m mighty glad that’s over. But now what are we going to do?” - -It was Step who spoke thus, addressing Poke and Sam and Varley, as they -stood grouped in the road before the house in which they had left the -injured man. Nearly an hour had passed since they brought him home on -the extemporized stretcher, and it had been a busy hour at that. Dr. -Emery had not hesitated to press the boys into service. They had gone -on errands to neighbors’ houses; they had assisted in the transfer of -the victim of the accident from the stretcher to his bed; they had -brought in a supply of fire-wood for the woman of the house; Poke -had driven away in the doctor’s sleigh and returned with a nurse of -much experience in caring for the sick of the countryside. At last, -though, all that could be done had been done. The doctor had resumed -his interrupted round; the nurse of experience had taken charge of the -distracted household; the sufferer was resting as comfortably as one -might hope to rest with fractured ribs and bruised body and limbs. - -“Boys, you’ve behaved like trumps,” had been Dr. Emery’s parting words. -“It has been a good morning’s work for all of you. Guess I’ll have to -enroll you as my first-aid detachment.” - -With that he clucked to his horse, and rode off, leaving the four in -the road. There followed a long silence, which Step ended. The boys -looked at each other. Step had uttered the thought of all of them. What -were they to do next? - -The strain and the excitement were over. Not one of them but felt the -reaction. Varley gave a queer little laugh. - -“Fellows, this sort of thing’s all new to me. I--well, it’s taken all -the ginger out of me. I feel like a--a----” - -“Like a rag?” Sam suggested. - -Varley nodded. “That’s it! Like a rag, and a wet rag, to boot.” - -Poke wagged his head solemnly. “I know! Been there myself. Sort of gets -you here----” and he laid a hand on his stomach. - -“That’s just it! It isn’t exactly as if you were hungry, but like it, -somehow.” - -Sam, the practical, pulled out his watch, and whistled softly. - -“Whew! No wonder you chaps feel that way. It’s twenty minutes to -twelve.” - -“And dinner’s six or seven miles away!” gasped Poke. - -“Nearer eight.” - -This time Poke didn’t gasp; he groaned. “I see where somebody I know -gets mighty unpopular at our house. Confound fussy folks, anyway!” - -“Same thing at our place,” quoth Step and drew a long face. “If a -fellow’s late for a meal they act as if they thought he ought to be in -jail.” - -“Well, it’s up to us to make tracks,” said Sam, then cast a half -dubious glance at Varley; a hurried march back to town would be no joke -for the novice on snow-shoes. - -Varley noted the glance, and read it aright. “Wait a minute, -fellows,” he said. “I’ll own up. I’m almost all in. No, I don’t mean -I’m leg-weary exactly; it’s more wear and tear on nerves, I guess. If -I could have a bite to eat and a chance to sit down by a fire for a -while, I’d be all right.” - -“Huh! I guess that’s what Jonah said when he found himself inside the -whale!” jeered Step. - -Sam spoke quickly. “Varley’s hit it! I feel the same way, only I didn’t -know enough to say so. I don’t hanker for that tramp home, but what -else is there to do?” - -“Nothing,” agreed Poke gloomily. “We might as well start.” - -But again Varley delayed them. “Hold on! Parker, you told me about a -hotel at the foot of Rainbow Mountain, didn’t you? Unless I’m all wrong -in my geography, we must have been traveling toward it, and it can’t be -very far away.” - -“Not more than a mile,” said Sam. - -The other’s face brightened. “Then I’ve a scheme. Let’s go there and -get something to eat.” - -“Oh!” said Sam doubtfully. - -Step shook his head, and Poke slapped a pocket, from which came no -cheering jingling of coin. - -“My treat, of course!” cried Varley hastily. - -“I guess we’d better not--thank you, of course, though.” - -That was Sam’s instinctive observation. Step shook his head harder than -ever. Poke rubbed his chin uncertainly; at that moment he was conscious -of a peculiarly vigorous appetite. - -Varley seemed to know how to meet the objections of the others. - -“Oh, come now!” said he persuasively. “You fellows have been doing -things for me, and helping me out with these contraptions----” he -glanced at his snow-shoes. “You’ve given me a lot of pointers. Give me -a show to even up part of it. Parker tells me the hotel is open. We’ll -go there and get a little lunch, and loaf around for a while, and start -for town when we feel like it. It’s the one sensible thing to do. Why -not?” - -None of the others found it easy to explain why it was not the sensible -thing. And Varley’s careless reference to the proposed refreshment as -a “little lunch” certainly did seem to throw new light on the case and -remove in some degree the sense of incurring undue obligation. - -“Why--why--I don’t know--that is, I don’t see----” Poke began. - -“’Twould be fun,” Step admitted. - -“Certainly it will--come along!” Varley urged. - -Sam hesitated. The case was of a sort to perplex an older and wiser -head than his. On the one hand was reluctance to accept hospitality -he might not be able to return; on the other was dread of appearing -boorishly unresponsive. His pocket money chanced to be low; and he -was quite sure Step and Poke were in the same plight. So it couldn’t -very well be a “Dutch treat.” And pride revolted a bit--town pride, -perhaps--at being at a disadvantage, compared with the city youth. But -Sam was hungry. Poke was hungry, too, and so was Step. - -Varley tugged at Sam’s sleeve. “Let’s trot along!” he urged. “Just a -little lunch, you know. Make us feel like fighting cocks, it will. And -I don’t mind telling you I need something like grub to take away that -goneness.” - -It was the repetition of the “little lunch” which turned the scales -with Sam. Rather vaguely he pictured light refreshment--sandwiches, -maybe, and a boiled egg or two--to be enjoyed picnic fashion. - -“All right, I’m with you, Varley--and much obliged,” he said. “Do as -much for you some day. And I’d be glad to have a look at the Rainbow -Mountain House. They say it’s a very good hotel.” - -“Well, we’ll find out how good it is!” cried Varley jubilantly. “Come -ahead!” - -It was a generous mile that lay between the boys and the hotel, but -with the spur of hunger and the equally encouraging sense of mild -adventure, they covered the distance briskly enough. On the road Varley -was a humble follower of his companions, but when they entered the big -lobby of the hostelry, he took command of the expedition. - -The others hesitated briefly, glancing about them at the great fire -blazing cheerily, at the many easy chairs, at the tables on which were -ranged newspapers and magazines, at the deer heads on the wall, at -the half dozen guests who were in evidence, some of them in the fur -coats in which they had just returned from a long drive in sleighs. But -Varley unconcernedly crossed to the desk, and addressed the clerk on -duty. - -“Lunch for four,” he said. “And we’d like it at once, if we can have -it.” - -The clerk pushed forward the big register, and offered Varley a pen. - -“Certainly,” said he. “Luncheon is served in the main dining-room.” - -Varley entered the names of the party in the book--he had to ask Step -and Poke’s initials, but he wrote “Samuel Parker” without hesitation. -Then he stepped back, smiling cheerily. - -“We’ll freshen up a bit, and then go right in,” said he. - -Both Sam and Step had been studying the lobby and the people, but Poke -was staring, in a sort of fascination, at a tall vase at an end of the -desk. It was slender and graceful of line, and was made of a prismatic -glass, which caught the light and reflected it in many-hued brilliance. - -“Golly! Look at the sparkle!” he exclaimed. - -“That’s our mascot--our luck piece,” the clerk explained. “Odd thing, -isn’t it? You’re quite right about the sparkle--regular rainbow effect, -in fact. That’s why it fits the Rainbow Mountain House, you see.” - -Poke wagged his head in his solemn fashion. “I do see it. And it -is--er--er--it is mighty--er--er--appropriate.” - -But Varley was tugging at his sleeve. “Oh, come along! A plate with a -lot on it would look still more appropriate.” - -Poke yielded to the pull. “There’s room for more than one good thing in -the world at a time,” he remarked philosophically. “I’ll be glad enough -to eat, but that--that sparkler--say, somehow it takes my fancy a lot.” - -“Well, you can sit down after lunch and admire it,” Varley reminded -him. “Just now your first duty to yourself is to play an engagement in -the dining-room.” - -The Rainbow Mountain House was a very comfortable, well-managed hotel, -whose landlord had a theory that people liked good things to eat. His -winter guests especially were likely to be blessed with vigorous -appetites, and he took especial pains not to disappoint them. So, while -the midday meal was known as luncheon, it was, in fact, a substantial -repast, daintily served in the big, sunny dining-room. Sam’s first -glimpse of the bill of fare made him glance swiftly, and suspiciously, -at Varley. A little lunch, forsooth! Why, this was a dinner of half -a dozen courses. But Varley met the glance blandly and with no -recognition, apparently, of the fact that it was suspicious. He was -entirely at his ease in presiding over the table to which the boys had -been conducted; and what was more, he put his guests at their ease. - -Truth to tell, the four had an excellent time. All of them had been -at still larger and more pretentious hotels than the Rainbow Mountain -House, but always in company with their elders; and this little party -had the agreeable tang of novelty and independence. Varley kept the -talk going briskly. He told a story or two of his misadventures at -boarding-school. He added another of an odd experience while traveling -in Europe, but gave no hint of regarding himself as a person of -superior talents or attainments; for quite as cheerfully he related -some of the amusing blunders into which he had been led by ignorance of -the ways of the country. Then the other boys recalled tales to cap his, -so that, altogether, it was a very merry group about the table. - -Finally the meal was over, and Varley tipped the waitress with a -practiced ease which vastly impressed the observant Poke. The four went -out into the lobby, and found chairs near the great fire. They were -filled with the comforting sense of ease and refreshment, and nobody -was disposed to suggest an early start on the long tramp to town. It -was much better fun to toast before the fire and watch the people come -straggling in, some from snow-shoe expeditions, others from coasting. -There was a pleasant murmur of talk, with a deal of rippling laughter -and a subdued bustle, very restful and soothing to the well-fed -listener. - -Varley sauntered over to the desk. There he paid the bill. The other -boys saw him draw a roll of notes from his pocket, pass one to the -clerk, and stow away his change with barely a glance at the silver. - -“Gee! but he’s well heeled!” Poke whispered to Sam, admiringly. - -Sam nodded, but said nothing. It was clear that Varley was well -supplied with spending money; but he was not moved to comment on the -fact. - -“Say! He knows how to do things up brown!” Poke insisted. - -“Indeed he does!” Sam agreed heartily enough. - -Poke stretched himself luxuriously. “This is one bully place! I like -everything about it. Cracking good feed, wasn’t it? And that shiny vase -over there---- Say, somehow I can’t keep my eyes off it!” - -“It is pretty.” - -“Pretty!” Poke’s tone was protesting. “That’s a mild way to put it. I -could sit and look at it for an hour at a time.” - -Sam made no reply. He was watching Varley, who was talking to the -clerk, but who finally wheeled, and returned to his companions, smiling -a trifle uncertainly. - -“I hope you won’t think I’m too much of a quitter,” he said, “but I -may as well own up. I don’t fancy that hike back. So I’ve made a deal -with that fellow to send us home in a sleigh. We can start whenever -we’re ready. And--and I hope you won’t mind.” - -It was on the tip of Sam’s tongue to make protest, but Step spoke first. - -“Mind? Not I! I’m not too proud to ride--not by a long shot.” - -“Good! Then we’ll consider that settled,” said Varley quickly. - -Poke shot a glance at Sam. “What did I tell you about doing things up -brown?” he queried with a chuckle. - -Again Sam said nothing. As it happened, it did not occur to him that he -needed to say anything. - - - - -CHAPTER VII THE SHARK LECTURES - - -The Shark was out of humor. He sat in a corner of the club-room, -glowering through his spectacles at his fellow members, and quite -ignoring the chess-board on the table beside him. - -Now, though the Shark had a brusque manner and was often curt in -speech, he really was a fellow of even disposition, and seldom -became involved in disputes. One reason for this, perhaps, was -the circumstance, observed by the philosophical Poke and by him -communicated to the rest of the club, that “it was surprising how many -things didn’t make any difference to the Shark.” Athletic rivalries -did not excite him; school competitions, except in his specialty of -mathematics, ordinarily had no interest for him; unless forced to do -so, he gave no heed to school politics. The other members of the club -might be in a fine state of mind over any of a dozen questions without -stirring the Shark perceptibly. So it was all the more curious that -this day, when his friends appeared to be getting along in harmony, the -Shark was having a fit of the sulks or the blues. He had been working -over a chess problem--working and growling, it must be confessed--and -having failed to reach its solution, had pushed back the board and was -regarding the others darkly and with hostility. - -The club was in full session. Everybody was there, with Sam Parker -fully restored to his old position of influence. A fortnight had passed -since the rescue of the injured woodsman and Varley’s little lunch, -two incidents which had restored Sam’s relations with Step and Poke -and made easy his return to the fellowship of the club. There it was -understood that Parker didn’t like to be joked about runaway horses -or mince pies, and these topics being placed under taboo, things were -going much as they had gone in the days before Mrs. Grant’s horse chose -to bolt and before Varley came upon the scene. - -Sam enjoyed the renewed companionship. It had needed a brief denial of -it to realize what it meant to him. So he had been as little disposed -to take offense as the others had been to give it; and there had been -hardly a ripple of bickering anywhere until the Shark, of a sudden, -developed a case of nerves and a yearning for squabbles. - -“You’re the most useless crowd!” he grumbled. “Why don’t you do -something? Why don’t you get a move on? You’re loafing on the job, -every one of you!” - -There was a long silence after this outburst, which took the others -completely by surprise. Finally Sam spoke. - -“Well, what do you want to have us do?” - -“Oh, anything!” - -“But what is there to do?” Step inquired. - -“What is there to do?” the Shark echoed scornfully. He sprang from his -chair and came forward. “Look here, all of you! You make me tired! Why, -right in this room a while ago I heard Step going on about this being -the meanest, slowest, stupidest part of the year.” - -“So it is,” Step insisted. - -“That’s what you said. There’s no skating, and the snow-shoeing and -sleighing and coasting are not worth having--wasn’t that your argument?” - -“I’m sticking to it still.” - -“Bosh!” - -Then Poke took a hand. “Tell you what it is, Shark,” said he. “Winter’s -all right, in its way; but you can get too much of a good thing. It -gets monotonous--leave it to you if it doesn’t.” - -The Shark declined to commit himself. “This gang is getting lazy. All -it seems to care for is to sit around and tell stories. You’re as good -for nothing as a lot of woodchucks stowed away in a hole till spring -comes.” - -“Well, the woodchuck knows his business,” quoth Step. - -“It’s mighty poor business, all the same, for a pack of human beings.” - -Trojan Walker laughed softly. “Ha, ha! If you’d like my opinion, Shark, -getting mad with the world because you can’t work out a chess problem -is worse business still.” - -The Shark whipped about to face him. “Can’t work it out, can’t I? Huh! -Much you know about it! I’ll show you now--no I won’t, either; you -wouldn’t understand.” - -“And you would? And that’s what makes you so pleasant to all of us?” - -“Who wants to be pleasant to a crowd that just sits around and talks -about a city fellow who happens to have more money than he knows what -to do with?” - -“What! You mean Varley?” - -“Course I do!” - -There was another pause before anybody made answer to the charge. Two -or three of the boys glanced inquiringly at Sam, as if they felt that -here was a matter concerning which it behooved him to speak. So Sam it -was who broke the silence. - -“Shark, what ails you, anyway? Varley’s all right.” - -“Huh! So’s his money and the big dinners it buys!” - -“What’s that?” - -“You heard well enough. You and Step and Poke haven’t been talking -about anything for a week but that feed he gave you.” - -Step’s long arm shot out. He shook a finger under the Shark’s nose. - -“You mean we’re toadying to him because he treated us to lunch? Say -that, straight out, and I’ll smash you!” - -The Shark was a head shorter than the tall Step, but he was in no -mood to shrink from controversy, vocal or physical. He bristled -belligerently. - -“You don’t dare do it! And you can’t put words in my mouth!” - -“Take it back then!” - -“I’ll take nothing back--that I’ve said.” - -A little voice seemed to whisper in Sam’s ear that the Safety First -Club was hardly living up to its name. He caught Step’s wrist, and drew -the tall youth back. Then he addressed the still bristling Shark. - -“I don’t like what you’ve said any better than Step likes it. But I -don’t intend to let anybody get into a fight over it. It was a bully -good dinner we had, and I’m not ashamed to say it was. You wouldn’t -have me lie about it, would you?” - -“N-no,” the Shark admitted. - -“And you wouldn’t expect me to pretend I was ashamed of accepting -Varley’s invitation?” - -“Why--why, no.” - -“And I haven’t hinted you were sore because you weren’t lucky enough to -be there.” - -The Shark reddened to the roots of his hair. “Anybody who says -that----” he began hotly. - -“I haven’t said it,” Sam interposed promptly. “Why haven’t I? Because I -know, and every other fellow here knows, it isn’t true.” - -“Oh!” said the Shark, with a queer little gasp, and a perceptible -lessening of ferocity. - -Sam pressed his advantage. “Be sensible, can’t you? I like Varley; so -do most of the others. For some reason you don’t. That’s no excuse, -though, for a general row. Varley isn’t thrusting himself in here -or----” - -“Huh! That’s just what he did do in the beginning.” - -“Well, that was because he didn’t understand the custom about -outsiders. But he was clever enough to guess visitors weren’t the usual -thing. You’ll notice he hasn’t come here again.” - -“Huh! Good reason!” - -“What do you mean?” - -“I told him not to,” said the Shark grimly. - -Sam stared at the spectacled youth. “You--you said that--to his face?” - -“Sure!” said the Shark doggedly. “When? Oh, three-four days ago. Where? -On the street, where we’d met, and where he’d stopped me, and begun to -hint about what a smooth joint we had here, and how he’d like to look -in occasionally. Then I told him it was a closed club. Why shouldn’t I -tell him? Fact, isn’t it?” - -“Yes. Only with a fellow from out of town, a stranger----” - -The Shark interrupted Sam. “Look here! I don’t pretend to fancy -Varley overmuch, but there I was treating him just as I’d treat the -best friend I have. I let him have the truth. It’ll save him a lot of -embarrassment. Besides, he isn’t what you’d call a stranger any more. -He’s staying in town right along, and he’s going to school--no use -trying to put him off in a class by himself.” - -Sam frowned, but Poke spoke sharply. - -“Hang it, Shark, but you have messed things! And after that cracking -good dinner he treated us to--geeminy, but I wish I knew how we could -even up things for that!” - -“All right--go ahead and even them all you please,” growled the Shark; -then his tone changed. “See here, you fellows! You’ve got me started, -and I’m going to free my mind. I don’t like the way you’re behaving. -You’re quitting on the job, the bunch of you!” - -“Bully boy, Shark! Go it!” jeered the Trojan. - -“I will! Listen! There isn’t one of you that’s stirred a finger to win -that history essay prize. You mope around, and wail about the weather -and the snow and nothing to do, and don’t even dream of trying to land -that hundred dollars. Can you deny that, Trojan? Or you, Sam? Or you, -Poke? Or Herman, or Step or Tom Orkney?” He was shaking an accusing -hand at each of them in turn. “All of you heard what the principal -said. Now hear what I say: It’s a shame and disgrace to the club that -you’re letting this chance go by default.” - -“How about yourself?” Step demanded. - -“I’m out of it. My line’s different. I can do things with figures, but -not with words. Two or three of you fellows write decently. Why don’t -you pull together--it’s allowable, under the rules--and gather in that -hundred?” - -Nobody took upon himself the responsibility of making reply. - -The Shark glanced from one to another. His manner was still grim. - -“That’s right--think it over!” said he. “Let it sink in. And don’t -forget the rest of the class is watching the club. I’ve had a couple of -nasty raps handed me about a gang that put on a lot of side, yet didn’t -have sand enough to make good at anything requiring real work.” - -“Who said that?” asked Sam. - -“Never mind! It was said--said to me.” - -“I’ve heard something of the sort,” said Tom Orkney quietly. - -Two or three of the others stirred uneasily; it was to be inferred that -they, too, had been reminded of the club’s inactivity. - -The Shark picked up his cap. - -“Well, I feel better,” quoth he. “I’ve got the thing off my chest. I’ve -got to cut along now, but you fellows can mull over what I’ve told you. -The lecture’s over; but it’s up to you to show whether or not it’s -going to do any good.” - -With that he walked out of the room, leaving a group whose members -seemed to be of diverse opinions about his views. Step declared that it -was hopeless to attempt to win the competition; Herman and the Trojan -were uncertain; Orkney inclined to the idea that the attempt would be -worth making. - -Poke, his face puckered and his air a bit mysterious, drew Sam aside. - -“Look here! The Shark has sure chucked the fat in the fire!” he -whispered. “Say, we’ve got to do something!” - -“Umph! I don’t believe the bunch of us can do much,” Sam objected. - -“I’m not talking about the prize. It’s Varley I’m worrying about. Don’t -you see, after the crack the Shark made to him, we’ve just got to wipe -out the obligation for that dinner?” - -“I wish we could! Only I don’t see how----” - -Poke broke in, his manner more mysterious than ever. “Hold your horses, -Sam! You watch me! No; I can’t lisp a word, but maybe--well, there’s -a chance your little old uncle will be able to square accounts and put -us all on Easy Street, Shark or no Shark. How? Can’t breathe a syllable -about it--now. Just watch and wait--that’s all you’ll have to do, Sam!” - - - - -CHAPTER VIII POKE’S MYSTERY - - -Ordinarily, Sam might have thought little of Poke’s mysterious hint, -for Poke’s fancy was lively at times, but the bearing of that well-fed -youth continued to suggest consciousness of a great secret. Now and -then he winked craftily at Sam, or wagged his head portentously, or -shook with glee at thoughts he was not ready to confide to his friends. -Observing which things, Sam meditated and wondered, and gained no clew -to the mystery. - -Sam, though, had plenty of other interests to claim his attention. -The Shark, after his outburst at the club, had resumed his manner of -indifference. He neither repeated his criticisms of his mates nor -displayed dislike for Varley, but went his own way in his old fashion. -It was evident, however, that what he had said about the club and the -prize essay had not fallen on wholly deaf ears. Herman Boyd and the -Trojan came to Sam to inquire if he really believed there would be a -chance to carry off the honor, and Tom Orkney put the same question -still more earnestly. - -“It does seem as if we ought to have a try at it,” he said. “The Shark -was more than half right about the--the--well, about the ‘laying down’ -business. And if you think there’s a show for any of us, it looks as if -the club should get busy.” - -“Some of the other crowds talking?” Sam queried shrewdly. - -Orkney nodded. “I’d be likeliest to hear it--last fellow in the club, -you know. So I’m told things that might not be said directly to the -rest of you.” - -“What sort of things?” - -“Well, that the club flocks by itself, and puts on airs, but never -amounts to much when it comes to a pinch; that it never gathers in any -prizes except the mathematical ones, and they’re just the Shark’s meat; -that here’s a big prize we won’t get because no one in the crowd has -the sand to make a fight for it.” - -“Exactly!” said Sam. He was quite aware of the jealousies due to -cliques in a school, and more than once had noted some very open -fishing for an invitation to join the Safety First Club. Also, when the -angling had resulted in failure, there had been, generally, an increase -in the unfavorable comment about the club by critics who didn’t belong -to it. - -Orkney coughed a little dubiously. “Ahem, ahem! Of course, all that -sort of thing is plain yapping, but, all the same, I’d like to see us -getting into this game. If I could do anything to help--say, though, -I’m no use when it comes to writing. But in digging for facts, I’ll -be ready to hold up my end. And facts are what are going to count. -And there’s nothing to prevent the crowd pulling together--the prize -essay doesn’t have to be one person’s work. Why, two or three of the -girls have teamed up, and make no bones about it. The principal told -’em it was allowable, especially since the person who is putting up -the hundred dollars really wants to get data on the town’s settlement -and early history, and regards this plan as merely a way of securing -assistance he is glad to pay for.” - -“Well, then, it’s my notion some of the girls will win,” declared Sam. -“They’re better pluggers--more persistent--than the fellows. Besides, -the composition will count for something--can’t help counting--and -that’s where they’ll do better work.” - -“Then you’re against our going in?” - -Sam protested. “No; I’m not. Only I don’t think any of us would have a -living chance. But if any of you fellows want to sail in, I’ll wish you -all the good luck there is. Still, short of finding the lost diary of -Dominie Pike----” - -“What’s that?” Orkney interrupted. He was comparatively a newcomer, and -still had many of the town’s traditions to learn. - -“Dominie Pike was the first minister,” Sam explained. “He came with -the very earliest of the settlers--some people say he himself was the -very first. He kept a diary, and put in it everything of interest that -happened to himself or his neighbors, and all their dealings with the -Indians----” - -“Indians?” - -“Of course! There was quite a powerful tribe here. Dominie Pike was -great friends with them, and there are lots of stories about that part -of the town’s history--trouble prevented by the Dominie, you know. No -doubt they’re all in the diary, but nobody knows what happened to the -diary. Folks have found many references to it in old letters, showing -that people knew about it, and had read it, or parts of it, anyway. -Then it seemed to disappear. The Historical Society has hunted for it -high and low, but never has got a trace of it.” - -Orkney whistled softly. “My! But I wish we could come across it! It -would just fill the bill.” - -“It would,” said Sam drily, and left Orkney to meditate ways and means -of accomplishing what so far the town had found to be impossible in the -matter of tracing the lost diary of the old minister. - -Their talk, however, had given Sam food for thought. It would be a fine -thing for the club to score in the competition. But, also, it would be -pleasing to find a way to square the account with Varley. Sam, casting -about, hit upon a plan or two, which failed to work out satisfactorily. -His mother listened willingly enough to hints that he would like -to have a party, but showed an inclination to make it a general -entertainment for the girls and boys of his acquaintance, which by no -means met his approval. Sam’s notion of the proper thing was a small -and strictly masculine gathering, at which Varley could be the guest of -honor. - -Of Varley, as it happened, he was seeing very little. Paul was -regularly attending school, but he was formally enrolled as a Senior, -and thus seemed to gravitate naturally into association with the -boys of the last year. When he encountered Sam or any of the other -members of the Safety First Club, he appeared to be quite at ease and -untroubled by any thought of the breach he had unwittingly made in -their rules; but Sam noticed--or thought he noticed--a disposition on -Varley’s part not to seek his society, even if there was no effort to -avoid it. He had no doubt that the Shark’s frankness had enlightened -Varley about the club’s ban on uninvited guests; and his respect grew -for a fellow who could “carry it off so well”--as he phrased it--a -situation which Sam himself found most embarrassing. - -Poke, meanwhile, was getting a deal of enjoyment out of his mysterious -secret, which, at last, he seemed to have shared with his especial -crony, Step; for the latter, of a sudden, became as excited as Poke -himself. The pair had conferences and conferences, with much chuckling -and whispering and rib-nudging. And then, one day, both came to Sam to -make an amazing announcement. - -Poke was in funds. Fortune had made him affluent. He proposed to bid -his friends share his prosperity. Also he proposed to even the score -with Paul Varley. - -Sam was practical. Where had the money come from? - -Poke explained gleefully. An elderly and well-to-do aunt had made him a -present of twenty-five dollars. By certain miracles of good behavior he -had won parental permission to spend the windfall as he pleased. - -“Now I’ll tell you what I’m going to do,” Poke went on. “I’m going to -take the whole club and Varley out to the Rainbow Mountain House, and -give ’em a bang-up good dinner. We’ll make it a hike out and back, with -the feed in between. Great notion, eh?” - -“Let’s see your cash!” said Sam bluntly. - -Poke produced a roll of bills with a flourish. “There! Count ’em if you -want to.” - -Sam took advantage of the permission. - -“Well, it’s twenty-five, all right,” he admitted, as he returned the -bills. - -“Sure it is! And twenty’ll pay for the dinners for the crowd. Oh, I’ve -found out. I’ve been doing a lot of telephoning out to the hotel, and -everything’s arranged for next Saturday.” - -“Invited Varley yet?” - -“No; I’m waiting to hear what you have to say.” - -Sam took thought. “It--it’s a good deal for you to blow in, Poke.” - -Poke waved a lordly hand. “Oh, easy come, easy go, Sam. Hang the -expense!” - -“You’ve been talking about this?” - -“A lot--to Step. He thinks it’s a great idea.” - -Sam was not surprised by this information; nor was he greatly -impressed. “I was thinking of your folks.” - -“They don’t mind. That part’s all right--honest!” - -Still Sam hesitated; noting which, Poke went on, eagerly: - -“Come now! You know how the thing is. We ought to do something for -Varley and----” - -“That’s so. Only all of us ought to chip in.” - -“Nonsense! He did it alone, and I’m going to do it alone. But it’ll -count for the whole club. And we ought to get square with him, hadn’t -we?” - -“Y-yes.” - -“Then let’s do it!” cried Poke triumphantly. “I’ll ask Varley to-day. -Better, hadn’t I?” he concluded, of a sudden, questioning. - -There was a brief pause. Then said Sam, slowly and half-reluctantly: -“Why--why--yes, I guess so.” - -“Then it’s as good as done!” quoth Poke, and departed in search of the -proposed guest of honor. - -The youthful code is usually simple but exacting. “Pay your debts” -stands close to the head of its list of rules. Instinctively Sam -doubted the success of Poke’s undertaking--things had a way of -happening unexpectedly to Poke. Still, he saw no sound reason for -interfering with the plan to restore the balance between the Safety -First Club and Paul Varley. He would have preferred himself to be the -host, but as that might not be, he yielded the place to his plump -friend. - -Varley accepted the invitation. He would be delighted to go to Poke’s -dinner, and he said so. - -The attendance of all the club’s members was taken for granted; and all -were promptly at the meeting-place on Saturday morning. The sun was -shining, the air was fine and bracing, and the snow was in excellent -condition. The party set out on the tramp in high spirits, taking a -somewhat roundabout course to the hotel, but passing close to the house -of the injured woodsman. There they halted briefly to make inquiry as -to his condition, and were told that he was convalescing satisfactorily. - -They brought noble appetites to the feast, and even the doubtful Sam -was forced to admit to himself that Poke had arranged matters very -well, indeed. A private dining-room was set aside for the youthful -visitors; the quite ample bill of fare had been lengthened with -especial attention to their tastes. Poke beamingly presided at the head -of the table, with Varley at his right and Sam at his left. Poke, in -fact, was having the time of his life, and when the others called upon -him for a speech, he made one willingly enough. - -“Tell you, fellows, I’m awfully glad all of you could come,” -said he. “Seemed to me it would be a bully idea to--er--er”--he -paused, of a sudden reminded that one may not eulogize one’s own -hospitality--“er--er--that is, we ought to do something to--er--er--to -break the monotony. Stupidest part of the year, you know. Anything for -a little variety. Of course, I might have done other things, but it -struck me the crowd would like a square meal----” - -“Yes, we needed it!” the Trojan put in in a stage whisper. - -Poke reddened. “Say, I didn’t mean that, and you know it! All of you -get plenty to eat; so do I. Only we don’t have the chance to eat -together; and I knew this was a cracking good place. So here we are! -And I’d like to know if anybody has anything to say against it?” - -“Not a word!” cried the Trojan. - -“Go on, Poke!” Herman Boyd encouraged. - -“Sure! Give the boy orator his head!” grinned Sam. - -“You’ve got ’em going, Poke--don’t let up!” “Hit us again--we haven’t -got any friends!” “My, but isn’t he the silver-tongued spell-binder!” -There was a medley of shouts; Poke shook his fist in mock defiance. - -“I haven’t much more to say, and I’ll make short work of it. You -fellows are all right, though you might know a lot more than you do. -Oh, I’m the same way--I admit it. But I know enough to stop when I’m -through. So that’s why I’m going to say again that I’m glad you’re -here, and sit down.” - -There was lusty clapping of hands. Then Varley rose, his glass in his -hand. - -“I propose,” he said, “the very good health of Poke Green. Long may he -wave!” - -They drank the toast in sparkling spring water, and drank it with -enthusiasm. Then there were other toasts to Varley, to Sam, to the rest -of the party; all to the general satisfaction and the especial delight -of Poke. He was beaming more broadly than ever when they filed out -of the dining-room and into the big lobby. There was just a bit of a -swagger in his walk, as he strolled up to the desk, and pulled out his -pocketbook. - -The clerk, catching the spirit of the occasion, made a little ceremony -of making out the account and presenting Poke with the receipt. Also he -expressed the hope that the dinner had been to the satisfaction of the -guests. - -“It was a corker!” quoth Poke, and thrust his change into a pocket. -Then, perhaps suspecting that he had displayed unsophisticated warmth, -he turned hastily. The tall vase of prismatic glass, which had held his -admiration on his first visit to the hotel, caught his eye. - -“Say, isn’t that a peach of a shiner!” he exclaimed to Step, who -happened to be nearest him. - -“Eh?” Step appeared to be in doubt of his meaning. - -Poke, impatiently and with the awkwardness of embarrassment, under the -clerk’s gaze, threw out a hand. - -“Why, there----” he began, but broke off abruptly. The gesture -had been more violent than he realized. His hand struck something -smartly--and the something was the tall shaft of the vase. - -“Whew!” he gasped, and made a desperate effort to avert the disaster. -But he was too late. - -The vase swayed. Then, seeming to slip through his hands, it fell from -its standard, and striking the floor with a mighty crash was splintered -into a score of pieces. - -Step, with a howl of alarm, sprang back. The others came running up to -see what had happened. Poke, though, stood like one rooted to the spot, -staring blankly at the glittering fragments. - -The clerk hurried from behind the desk. His expression was serious, but -he spoke quietly, with no raising of his voice. - -“It’s too bad. An accident, of course, but an unfortunate one.” - -Poke found tongue. “I don’t see how I hit it. I was just trying to -point to it, and bang! I was into it, and it was smashing on the floor! -I never dreamed of--of--of making such a wreck.” - -“I presume not,” said the clerk in his quiet fashion. Then with a -change of tone he addressed a bell-boy: “Clear up this mess--at once.” - -Instinctively Poke was fumbling in his pocket. “The damage--how much? -If you’ll tell me, I’ll----” - -“Oh, there is no hurry,” said the clerk. “I shall have to refer the -whole matter to the proprietor, who is away for a few days.” - -“Then I can’t settle it now?” - -The corners of the man’s mouth twitched, but his speech was -matter-of-fact. - -“No; a case like this must be referred to the proprietor. I’m sure I -don’t know what view he may take of it, or of the--ah--ah--the question -of responsibility. We have your name and address, you understand; he -can communicate with you if he desires to do so.” - -“Oh!” said Poke weakly. He was half rejoiced by the delay, half -frightened by the hint of written claim for damages. “Oh! Then there’s -nothing to be done now?” - -“Not a thing!” said the clerk crisply; and retired to his place behind -the desk. - -Poke turned unhappily to his friends, but none of them had comfort to -offer in this sudden and unfortunate turn in affairs. - -“I--I suppose we might as well start for home,” he said drearily. “I--I -guess the sooner we’re out of here, the better.” - - - - -CHAPTER IX SAM GETS A REMINDER - - -The disastrous sequel to Poke’s dinner party was the chief topic of -talk among the Safety First Club, with Poke himself in a state of mind -which can be more easily imagined than described. The breaking of the -big vase was due to him. He had had not the slightest intention to -break it, but this did not alter the bitter fact. He was responsible -for the fall of the vase. Like the honest fellow he was, he accepted -the responsibility--and wondered much how he was to meet it. - -What had been the value of the vase? Not a member of the club could -enlighten him. Varley, approached as one of wider knowledge, declined -to venture an opinion. - -“It may have cost a lot, or it may have been very cheap,” he said. -“Unless you’re an expert, you can’t tell.” - -“That’s the way with a lot of things in this world!” groaned Poke, and -sought the Shark, as an expert in mathematics, at least. - -The Shark gave him little comfort. He was more than ready to undertake -a calculation of the possible value of the vase, based on the cost -of a bit of cut-glass, owned by his mother, of the price of which he -happened to be aware. But though he made most careful estimates of the -height of the vase, he soon came to difficulties. - -“Look here, Poke!” said he. “I can arrive at an approximation of the -volume of the thing, but how does the price increase in comparison -with the size? Arithmetical or geometrical progression? If it’s -arithmetical, it’ll be bad enough; but if it’s geometrical--whew!” - -Poke was aghast. “You--you mean it’d mount up to--to--hundreds of -dollars?” - -“Hundreds? Rats! Thousands!” snapped the Shark. “Just you wait till I -get it in black and white--on estimates, of course. I can’t pretend to -get exact results when I’ve no precise data to work on.” - -But Poke didn’t wait. Instead, he fled; and seeking out his especial -crony, Step, confided to him that he believed he was doomed to be a -bond-slave for life. - -“You see, I’ve got to work it off myself,” he explained. “When the -folks said I could have the party, they made it a condition that there -mustn’t be any rough pranks--any breaking things, you know. And I -promised there shouldn’t be. And there wasn’t--everybody behaved like -a gentleman--till I went smashing into that show-piece. I haven’t told -’em at the house--yet; I’ll never tell ’em if I can possibly help it.” - -“Sure you won’t,” quoth the sympathetic Step. “No fellow likes to ’fess -up when the joke’s on him.” - -“The joke!” roared Poke. “Great Scott, but you’ve got a mighty queer -notion of what’s funny! You’d like to see a house fall on a fellow.” - -“Oh, come now! I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” pleaded Step. - -“You can’t hurt ’em worse than they’re already hurt,” groaned Poke, of -a sudden dreary again. - -He went away, so downcast and so unlike his normally cheerful self that -Step was stricken with fear for him, tinged with remorse for his own -lightsome treatment of the subject. And, being thus burdened in soul, -he had an inspiration. He happened to know where some old catalogues of -city department stores were gathering dust in an attic. These volumes, -brought to light and consulted, offered hope. Step carried them to Poke. - -“Look here!” he said. “Maybe ’twon’t be so fierce, after all. Here’s a -whopping big vase--I guess it’s taller than the one at the hotel. And -it’s priced at only $3.98. There’s a picture of it.” - -Poke eagerly inspected the cut. Then his face fell. - -“’Tisn’t the same shape,” he objected. - -“Well, no--not exactly the same,” Step confessed. “There is a little -difference.” - -“A little difference! Just about as little as there is between your -shape and mine!” - -It was not an unhappy comparison. Poke was short and plump; Step was -tall and slender. There was a like variance between the somewhat -jug-like ornament depicted in the catalogue and the graceful vase which -had stood on the desk of the Rainbow Mountain House. - -“All right; have it your way if you want to,” Step agreed. - -Again Poke studied the illustration. “What’s more, this one’s made out -of different stuff. It doesn’t look like glass.” - -“I didn’t say it was.” - -Poke shut the book with a bang of temper. “You didn’t say anything -sensible.” - -Then Step revolted at this ingratitude. “Look here, Poke, that’s -carrying your grouch too far! Wasn’t I trying to help you?” - -“Oh, I know you mean well,” Poke groaned. - -“And wasn’t I doing you a favor? Don’t you want to be posted? Here’s a -whopping big thing you can get for $3.98. That’s worth knowing if they -try to come any funny business on you.” - -Poke cheered a trifle. “Say, there’s something in that.” - -“You bet there is! And when you come down to brass tacks, a vase is a -vase.” - -Poke did not deny the proposition. “Yes; that’s so. Still----” - -“And you know where you’re at.” - -“But that’s just what I don’t.” - -“Of course you do!” Step said impatiently. “You’re getting a line -on what vases cost--some vases, that is. And--er--er--‘Knowledge is -power,’ you know,” he concluded with sudden solemnity. - -“I suppose that’s so,” Poke admitted dubiously. “Only I don’t see----” - -The fire of imagination blazed in Step--somehow it kindled readily when -these two chums were in consultation. - -“Crackee! But I’ve got an idea, Poke--best ever! Don’t you wait for the -hotel folks to do something. Do something yourself, and do it first!” - -“What can I do?” Poke asked helplessly. - -“That’s easy. You owe ’em for a vase. Send ’em one.” - -“What! One of the three-ninety-eight kind?” - -“How much money have you got?” Step demanded bluntly. - -“Oh, ten dollars or so--that is, by scraping everything together I can -raise that much.” - -“Then make it a ten-dollar one--best you can find for the money. Ship -it to ’em with a nice note--you know the sort: you greatly regret the -accident and you’re making haste to replace the property destroyed. -They’ll read it, and they’ll see the new vase, and they’ll say, ‘Well, -there’s a boy who means to do the right thing; we can’t be too hard on -him. Guess we’d better call it quits.’ And there you are! What more -could you ask?” - -Poke was blinking like one dazzled by the prospect. “I--I--say, wonder -if the thing would work?” - -“How can you tell till you try?” - -“That’s so. Only----” - -“Hang it, ‘only’ never got anybody anywhere!” Step expostulated. - -“Maybe not.” - -“It surely never did,” Step insisted. - -Poke evidently was half-persuaded. “It’s a great scheme--I’ll say that -for it. So I guess I--I’ll----” - -“You’ll do it right off?” - -“No; I guess I’ll ask Sam’s advice.” - -Step’s face fell. “Oh, if you haven’t any mind of your own----” - -“I’ve mind enough to know Sam’s got more hard sense,” said Poke firmly. -And to Sam he went, forthwith, laying before him Step’s plan and -admitting his own liking for it. - -Sam listened patiently, but shook his head when the tale was told. - -“I’m afraid it wouldn’t be a case of the Safety First rule,” he said. -“Your selection, Poke, might not please the hotel people. And, of -course, we’re all at sea about the value. No; better wait till you hear -from them.” - -“But the suspense--it’s awful!” - -“It won’t kill you. Besides, very likely--that is, there’s a -chance--nothing’ll happen. Varley seems to think it may work out that -way, and the Rainbow Mountain House will just charge the item to profit -and loss, or breakage, or whatever they choose to call it.” - -“That’d be too good luck to come true,” objected Poke, but he went away -more or less comforted by the suggestion, nevertheless. Certainly, the -hotel management was in no haste to send its bill. Step maliciously -hinted that the delay meant merely a heavier charge in the end, but -Poke’s spirits began to revive as day followed day, and there was no -word from Rainbow Mountain. - -His cheerfulness increased in spite of adverse weather conditions. -With the lengthening days and the sun higher in the heavens, the snow -should have been shrinking seasonably, but the sunny days were few, and -between them came other days, in which the white flakes fell heavily. -In the town great banks showed on the north side of buildings, while -the mounds along the sidewalks grew grimy and icy with alternate -melting and replenishing. From the country roundabout came stories of -extraordinary depth of snow in the woods and in sheltered hollows. -Old residents were shaking their heads and recalling tales of spring -floods. A heavy rain and a sharp rise in temperature would mean streams -over their banks and perhaps a deal of damage by floods swelled by the -melting snow. - -The boys were not worrying about such possibilities. They were eager -for the coming of warmer weather. - -“We’ve had enough of winter this trip,” the Trojan declared, and the -others approved the sentiment. Even the Shark fell into line, although -he insisted that this winter was doubtless very like other winters, -and began to collect statistics to prove his contention. Presently he -had some neat tabulations, with averages of snowfall and temperature -carried out to four places of decimals, and was devoting a fair share -of his leisure to efforts to secure an audience while he pointed out a -number of popular errors the figures revealed. - -So the days went by, and the weeks, tranquilly enough for the club. Sam -was studying hard. Once or twice he “did” a lesson with Varley, being -glad of the chance, indeed, to keep in touch with the older boy. - -Varley made no reference to his unintentional breach of the rules -of the Safety First Club, nor did he give a hint that the Shark had -enlightened him about his blunder. Sam appreciated his reticence. -Apology would have been awkward for both of them. Varley was taking -care to keep away from the club, and ignoring the earlier incident -seemed to be the easiest and best way to deal with the situation. - -Without coming to intimacy, Sam and Paul got on very well together. -Neither sought the other out frequently, but, as has been said, they -studied in company now and then, and often strolled along together, -when they met on the street. So it came about that Varley was a witness -of Sam’s next meeting with the grateful Mrs. Grant, and played his part -in bringing about the events which followed that encounter. - -A sleigh turning from the beaten track and pulling up beside the deeply -buried curb; a beckoning hand; a cheerful voice calling briskly--these -were the circumstances under which Sam became aware that speech with -him was desired, and recognized Mrs. Grant. Touching his cap, he -stepped as near the sleigh as the banks of snow permitted. Much of the -old chagrin because of the lady’s effusive and public thanks for his -services had worn away; and since the reconciliation with his mates of -the club there had been times when he regretted that he had not been -more responsive. - -Mrs. Grant, plainly, had been on a shopping tour; for the sleigh was -piled high with packages. She beamed upon Sam, and stretching out a -gloved hand, shook his very heartily. - -“Now, this is what I call luck!” she exclaimed. “I was just wondering -where I could find you, and then, quick as a wink, there you are! My, -but it’s funny how things happen sometimes!” - -“Yes, ma’am,” said Sam. “And--er--er--how do you do?” - -Mrs. Grant chuckled. “Well, I guess I’m bearing up amazing well, all -things considered. And I don’t see as you’re getting puny or peaked -yourself.” - -“No, ma’am.” - -Her eyes twinkled. “Te he! Didn’t know but you were pining for that -mince pie I promised you.” - -Sam felt his cheeks burn. “I--I--oh, I didn’t mind,” he said confusedly. - -“But I did,” said Mrs. Grant crisply. “Somehow I like to keep my -promises, and I certainly did promise you that pie. When are you coming -to get it?” - -“Why--why----” - -“I’ll be ready for you any time. Only the sooner, the better.” - -“It--it’s very kind of you.” Sam said it courteously, if a trifle -brokenly. At the moment his chief thought was to avoid betrayal of his -feeling in the matter of all mince pies, a feeling which, of a sudden, -had grown to loathing. But he had had his lesson of the unwisdom of -permitting a pie to start a quarrel. - -“Then I’ll look for you--come now, let’s see!” Mrs. Grant wrinkled her -forehead thoughtfully. “To-day’s Tuesday--um--um! And to-morrow I’ve -got to go over to the East Village. Then Thursday’s sewing circle day. -But Friday--after your school’s out? You can manage to come over to the -farm easy enough--why not?” - -“Why--why----” - -“Why, of course you can!” cried Mrs. Grant energetically. “But I say!” -Her glance went to Varley, who had remained modestly in the background. -“Sakes alive, but there’s the other boy! The one that tried and didn’t; -but he meant just exactly as well as if he’d known how--you know what -I’m talking about, and that’s the time this foolish horse bolted. Bring -him with you, too.” - -“I’ll be very glad to come,” said Varley promptly. - -Mrs. Grant was eyeing him shrewdly. “Shouldn’t wonder if we could -show him some things,” said she. “He looks sort of citified, and -we’re country--real country--out to Sugar Valley. But that reminds -me--it’s ’most sugaring time now. ’Twill be, soon’s we get a spell of -warm weather to start the sap running; and it’s my notion when winter -breaks, it’ll break quick. Come now! Never seen ’em sugar-off, has he?” - -Varley saved Sam the trouble of making answer. “Indeed I haven’t, but -I’d like to.” - -“Well,” said Mrs. Grant, addressing him directly, “I don’t know as we -can show you the sap running, and the kettles boiling by Friday, but we -can show you all the works. We’ve got quite a lot of bush and----” - -“I beg your pardon! Bush?” - -Mrs. Grant laughed. “That’s just a name for it--our name. You’d call -it a grove, I guess. And there’s an old house where we keep the -kettles--why, it’s quite an outfit, when you see it all. And I reckon -you’ll find it mighty entertaining.” - -“I’m sure I shall.” - -“Then that settles it--Friday it is!” she said with decision, and -turned again to Sam. “I tell you what! We’ll make a regular party. -Suppose you bring along half a dozen of your chums--more, if you want -to. Goodness knows, our old house is big enough to take you all in! -And let’s see! You can come out right after school, and we’ll have -dinner--it’ll be waiting for you. And I’ll get that mince pie off my -conscience. Then Mr. Grant can take you down to the island--it isn’t -an island, really, but that’s what we call it--and let you see the -apparatus for making maple syrup and sugar.” She turned swiftly back to -Varley. “You said it’d be all new to you, didn’t you?” - -“Every bit of it.” - -“Then I can count on you, too?” - -“It’s I that’ll do the counting! I wouldn’t miss the trip for worlds!” -cried Varley enthusiastically. - -His evident delight in the plan swept away any lingering doubts Sam may -have felt. It wouldn’t be fair to spoil Varley’s pleasure because of -his own rather vague reluctance. - -“Yes, you may count on us, Mrs. Grant,” he said. “And as for more -fellows--well, I know a crowd that’ll like to come, too. We’ll be -there--on time--Friday.” - - - - -CHAPTER X THE BLOW DESCENDS - - -Sam had taken for granted that there would be no parental objections to -the expedition, and in this he found himself a true prophet. - -Mr. Parker not only agreed to the plan, but also showed approval of it. - -“A little outing will be good for you, Sam,” said he. “You’ve been -attending pretty strictly to business lately, and it’s time for a -break in the routine. By the way, your good conduct marks ought to be -mounting up handsomely.” - -Sam laughed. “Well, sir, I haven’t seemed to have many chances to get -into trouble.” - -“Haven’t looked for them very anxiously, have you?” - -Sam’s eye met his father’s, and a trace of red showed in the boy’s -cheek. - -“Safety first, sir!” he said. “You know I’ve had that lesson taught me -mighty thoroughly.” - -Mr. Parker studied his son closely for a moment. - -“So? Well, I’m glad to hear the instruction hasn’t been wasted.... But, -tell me! Find life robbed of a little of its spice, eh?” - -Sam paused for thought before he answered; the question was not one -he could dispose of lightly, especially when it had been put by his -father. There was a very good understanding between father and son, but -it had not been arrived at without some grievous experiences for the -youth. On that account he prized it the more, and desired to maintain -it. - -“Sometimes it does seem as if a fellow missed some fun, sir. I don’t -know, though--mostly, afterward, I can figure out that everybody is -better off because the thing wasn’t done--the thing that seemed to -promise sport, I mean.” - -“But there are other things that promise sport, and supply it, and harm -nobody, aren’t there?” - -“Oh, yes.” - -“And you’re beginning to discriminate?” - -Sam wriggled; he was by no means over-impressed with his own sagacity. - -“Why--why, I try to discriminate--that’s the very secret of our Safety -First idea, isn’t it? Of course, I make bulls--mistakes, I mean--a lot -of them.” - -“Then what?” - -“I try not to repeat them,” said Sam simply. “I don’t know any better -rule.” - -“There is none,” said his father decidedly. “And, on the whole, you’ll -find that if you follow the rule, it still leaves plenty of good, clean -fun in life as well as a reasonable share of adventure. Not that I -imagine you’ll run across much of the latter in Sugar Valley, though!” - -“It isn’t very likely,” said Sam. - -“Well, Lon can drive you over,” said his father. “The big sleigh will -take you all in. I’ll guarantee it, though I won’t do as much for the -sleighing. The snow has lasted unusually long, but the season is now so -late that if it once begins to go, it will go very fast.” - -“But there’s such a lot of it,” Sam objected. - -“There is an uncommon amount--that’s true. I’ve seen late spring thaws, -though, when the greater the depth of snow, the faster it seemed to -vanish. Still, with the amount we now have, it would need fast work to -clear the ground before Friday.” - -“That’s my notion, too, sir,” said Sam, half regretfully. The truth -was, he was in two minds about the expedition. Considering only his own -preferences, he might have chosen to stay at home; but there was Varley -to be taken into account, and Varley undoubtedly was very desirous of -seeing Sugar Valley. The boys of the club, too, would like to go. All -of them said so, at once and emphatically. So Sam held conference with -Lon Gates, who readily promised to have the big sleigh ready; though he -was far from an optimist when the subject of the weather was broached. - -“Take it this time o’ year, Sam,” he explained, “and guessin’ on that’s -like buyin’ a pig in a poke, only more so. You see, everything’s -betwixt and between, same’s butter that ain’t quite made up its mind -whether to come or not. And all the signs are mixed and confusin’. -Why, jest t’other day I heard two of the oldest inhabitants squabblin’ -over whether the groundhog really see his shadow Candlemas day; and -’sfar’s I can find out the most reliable goose-bones in town are -actin’ every which way except alike. But if you insist on havin’ my -forecast, personal-like, I’m votin’ for a change in weather. I’ve got a -rheumaticky spot or two that’s been tunin’ up lately; and there was a -mighty funny lookin’ sunset t’other night. Still, nobody can tell. And -if you’ll be ready for me Friday, I’ll be ready for you.” - -Sam, thus advised, tried to study the weather signs for himself. -Thursday dawned mild and calm, with a thin haze in the air and a marked -rise in temperature. The eaves were dripping briskly when he started -for school, and when he came home for dinner, the snow layer seemed to -have shrunk amazingly. Where foot travel was greatest the sidewalks -showed black and bare; puddles formed in low places; the compacted and -leveled track of the sleighs grew dingier than ever. Throughout the -afternoon the same conditions held, until with the coming of darkness -the temperature dropped a trifle, and a thin coating of ice formed on -the little ponds of snow-water. - -“Umph! What did I tell you? Weather breeder!” was Lon’s oracular -speech, when Sam sought his opinion of the probabilities for the -morrow. But even Lon declined to commit himself on the sort of weather -which might be expected. So Sam went to bed little the wiser, and woke -to find another day seemingly much like that which had gone before, -still, warm and hazy, with the eaves dripping more merrily than ever, -the puddles bigger and deeper, and the streets coated with a slush, -peculiarly damp and chilling in its effect on shoe-leather. - -Sam splashed to school, to find that news of his party had reached -the principal, and had won an unexpected favor--excuses for all hands -from attendance for the last period of the day. The boon, it appeared, -had been secured by the Shark, who stood high in the esteem of the -head of the school, himself a member of the mathematically inclined -brotherhood. It was thus possible to make an earlier start than had -been proposed for Sugar Valley. Lon, called up by telephone, was -agreeable to the change. - -“Sure I’ll be glad to get away,” he declared. “Quicker I go, less I’ll -be wonderin’ if I ain’t a howlin’ idiot not to start on wheels instead -o’ runners.” - -“Then you think----” - -Lon cut short the inquiry over the wire. “I think it’s the breakin’ up -of a hard winter, son. And that’s all I’m capable o’ thinkin’ at once. -Now, you’d better get busy--I’ve got to.” - -Excused a little before noon, the boys hurried home for final -preparations for their outing. Sam found Lon ready for him. He climbed -into the sleigh, and off they went, stopping first to pick up Varley, -and then the Shark. Next they added Tom Orkney, Herman Boyd and the -Trojan to the party, which now lacked only Poke and Step. - -“Try Step’s house first,” Sam suggested. - -Lon nodded, and chirruped to his horses, which broke into a brisk -trot, with much splashing of water from the puddles along the way. -The sleighing certainly was going fast, but so great had been the -accumulation of snow that it promised to last out the day, at least. - -“Say, Lon, why didn’t you bring a boat?” the Trojan queried, as -something very like a dash of spray shot over the side of the sleigh. - -“Huh! Ark’d been nearer the bill, seein’ the kind o’ load I’m -freightin’,” Lon responded promptly. - -“I guess we’ll find the brooks high,” Herman Boyd put in. - -“Bankful and brimmin’ over,” quoth Lon. “Maybe you fellows will have to -get out and wade before we get back.” - -“Well, we’ll risk it,” cried Herman cheerfully. - -They turned a corner, and drew up before the Jones house. Nobody was in -sight about the premises. - -Sam raised a lusty hail. “Oh, you Step! Hi there! Hurry up!” - -There was no response. Sam called again, still more loudly. The Trojan -had the knack of putting his knuckles to his mouth and emitting a -peculiarly shrill and penetrating whistle. He blew it now, quite -without result. Then the crowd shouted in chorus. - -The kitchen door opened. A woman looked out. She waved a hand toward -the club-house, which, as has been explained, stood in a corner of the -yard. - -“What the mischief----” Sam began, but cut short his speech, and sprang -to the ground. Orkney followed him. One or two of the others were about -to imitate the example, but Sam waved them back. - -“No; two of us are enough,” he said. “I can’t guess what’s happened, -but something has. Orkney and I’ll find out. Come along, Tom!” - -They hurried up the path to the club-house. The door was ajar. Sam, by -this time puzzled and a bit alarmed, pushed it open, and looked in, -Orkney peering over his shoulder. - -Both Step and Poke were in the room. They were facing each other, -though neither appeared to be looking at the other. Poke was slumped on -a lounge in an attitude of utter dejection, but Step might have posed -for a picture of absolute woe. - -At that moment even a stranger would have understood how Clarence -Jones came by his nickname; for beyond denial he strongly suggested a -step-ladder, and a step-ladder folded hastily. As he had picked out the -lowest chair in the room, his knees seemed to rise to a level with his -ears, while his long arms dangled till his hands rested limply on the -floor. His head sagged upon his breast. His lips were moving, and from -them came mournful sounds. - -“Brace up, Poke!... Oh, brace up, I say!... Pull yourself together!... -It’s certainly awful, but br-brace up, I tell you!” - -Never was there more doleful encouragement; but it served, at least, -to give Sam some clew to the mystery. It was Poke who was in trouble. -Convinced of this, at least, he stepped into the room, and laid a hand -on Poke’s shoulder. - -“Well, what’s the row?” he demanded. “Must be a big one to keep you two -from hearing the racket we raised outside.” - -Poke slowly raised his head. He stared at Sam, vaguely, blankly. It was -Step who spoke. - -“You--you brace up, Poke! And you--you go away, Sam!... But don’t you -let it knock you out, Poke! Be a man!” - -Sam turned to him. “If you’re going to do the talking, talk sense!” he -said sharply. - -Step waved his long arms tragically. - -“Sam, the worst has happened! Poke’s got a letter!” - -“Well, what of it?” Sam asked sharply. - -“What of it! Why, when I came along just now he had it.” - -“Of course he’d have it, if he’d got it. Don’t be an idiot!” - -Step’s arms dropped rather more tragically than they had been raised. - -“It--it’s spoiled everything for him. And I don’t wonder. But I was -trying to cheer him up when you came blundering in.” - -“Queer cheering!” growled Sam. “And much good you were doing him! Now -cut this foolishness and come along, both of you. The crowd’s waiting -outside with Lon, and it’s time we were starting.” - -Poke broke his silence at that. “Oh, I can’t go!” he groaned. “I--I’d -have no heart for it.” - -“Shucks! It’ll do you all the more good.” - -“Nothing can do him good,” croaked Step; then added, rather -contradictorily, if with the best of intention: “Brace up, Poke! Pull -yourself together! Nev--never say die!” - -Sam glanced from one to the other. Step and Poke were close chums; the -sorrows of one were generally shared by the other. He was satisfied -that the present trouble was really serious, though, as it happened, -it did not occur to him to hit upon a clew to the mystery by recalling -Poke’s mishap with the big vase. To tell the truth, that incident had -rather slipped his mind with the passage of time. Now, though, studying -Poke, he observed a crumpled sheet of paper clutched in his hand. - -Sam bent down. By the exertion of some force he took possession of the -paper, Poke resisting feebly. Smoothing the sheet, he ran his eye down -the typewritten page. And, as he read, he whistled shrilly. - -The letter was from the Rainbow Mountain House. It was signed by the -proprietor himself. Its tone was formal and businesslike. - -The writer explained the delay by the time which had been found -necessary to learn the cost of replacing the vase. This point had now -been established. - -“‘We find that a duplicate can be obtained, and invite your early -attention to the matter,’” Sam read aloud. “‘The expense will be $175.’” - -Orkney echoed Sam’s whistle. Poke groaned weakly. Step tore his hair. - -“One hundred and seventy-five dollars!” Sam said very slowly. “‘We -invite your early attention to the matter!’ Wow, but that--that’s a -sockdologer!” - -“He can’t pay it!” cried Orkney. “It’s too much. And if the thing was -worth so much, it ought to have been kept where it would be safe.” - -“That’s true,” Sam agreed. - -Poke shook his head sadly. “I’ve got to pay--I said I would.” - -“But you can’t raise the money. The whole club couldn’t raise it.” - -[Illustration: “YOU CAN’T RAISE THE MONEY”] - -“It isn’t the club’s job--it’s mine.” - -“Nonsense. All of us were at the dinner.” - -“But all of you didn’t smash the vase. I did that myself.” - -“And he hates to let his folks know,” Step explained in a stage -whisper. “You see, things have been--er--er--they’ve been kind -of piling up on him lately, and his folks--well, they’re getting -prejudiced.” - -“I see,” said Sam soberly. Then he paused, and took thought. “Look -here, Poke!” he went on. “You, too, Step! I suppose that letter came -to-day.” - -“Yes, he found it when he came home from school,” Step declared. - -“Well, it doesn’t have to be answered to-day. You fellows have got to -come along with the rest of us.” - -“Oh, I couldn’t!” - -“Oh, we can’t!” - -Poke and Step both cried out in protest. Sam’s face grew determined. - -“You’ll guess again about that! This is a thing we’re all in, and the -trip will give us a chance to talk it over. And getting out will do -both of you a lot of good.” - -“But, Sam, there’d be no fun for us,” Step argued. “We’d just be wet -blankets on the crowd and----” - -Now and then a leader has to assert his leadership. Sam had not been -head of the Safety First Club without learning some of the secrets of -mastery. He shot a meaning glance at Tom Orkney, who understood, and -nodded approval. - -“Tend to Step, Tom,” Sam said curtly. Then he himself caught Poke’s -collar, dragged that youth to his feet, and propelled him toward the -door. Close behind him came Orkney, hauling along the struggling Step -and paying no attention to his vociferous objections. And so down the -path moved the little procession, to the edification and amazement of -Lon and Varley, and the other members of the club, thus recruited to -its full strength for the expedition to Sugar Valley. - - - - -CHAPTER XI THE GREAT MINCE PIE OF SUGAR VALLEY - - -Being a youth in full possession of his faculties and powers of -observation, Paul Varley understood perfectly that there was something -curious in the fashion in which Step and Poke were loaded into the big -sleigh; but he was also shrewd enough to perceive that there was no -intention to let him into the secret. The late comers had been hailed -impatiently or derisively, but Varley noted that none of the questions -as to the cause of their delay was pressed. A nudge from Sam or Orkney, -or a sharp glance, or a muttered word seemed to check inquisitiveness -immediately. Paul saw, and heeded, and guessed the truth, in part, at -least. Whatever might be amiss, the other boys regarded it as something -not to be revealed outside the circle of the club. Satisfied of this, -he took care to help them along by making talk. - -Varley had no difficulty in finding topics. The weather, the clouds, -the rapidly melting snow, the swollen streams they crossed--about all -these things he put many questions. The boys, in turn, appealed to Lon. -What did he think of the prospects, anyway? - -Lon squinted at the gray sky, and then at the sloppy road. - -“Well, ’less something breaks, we’re goin’ to get there; and if harness -and runners hold out, we’re goin’ to get home again,” he declared. -“Dunno’s I’d call it exactly a pleasure trip, but I guess we’ll pull -through somehow, as the molasses candy said to the sugar bowl. Maybe -it’ll be sleighin’, and then again maybe it’ll be draggin’ through mud; -but we’ve got a good, husky team o’ hosses, and if none of the bridges -takes a notion to go floatin’ down stream, we’ll manage. And further -deponent sayeth not.” - -“But is it going to rain?” Sam persisted. - -“Well, wind’s in the east. And if it stays there long enough, squirrels -and pickerel will be classin’ alike in p’int o’ dampness.” - -“But is it going to stay there?” - -Lon clucked to his horses; then he glanced at the sky again. - -“Huh! I reckon so--sooner or later there’ll be rain. How soon and how -much? Huh! Bein’ able to answer jest sech questions is how old Noah -went and got his reputation. And he didn’t leave me his recipe for -guessin’ right. So I ain’t committin’ myself, sonny.” - -Varley laughed with the others; then gave himself to a study of the -weather conditions. It was not a cheering prospect that met his eye. -All the winter brilliancy of the landscape had faded; the great blanket -of snow covering the earth was now a very wet blanket in fact and in -appearance; the leafless trees towered black and somber. Streams ran -brim-full. Where there were rapids, they showed clear of ice, and -along the smoother stretches, where the break-up had not yet come, the -freshets poured along above the frozen layer as well as below it. - -Varley began to appreciate what the “breaking up of a hard winter” -meant. He wondered, indeed, that Sam and Lon should have undertaken -a trip on such a day, and then, correctly enough, inferred that they -were keeping the engagement to visit Sugar Valley, because there was -no certainty that delay would bring better conditions. In spite -of the slush and the puddles, the big sleigh was making very good -time. Satisfied that Lon knew his business, Paul quietly studied his -companions. Poke and Step were silent and subdued, but the others were -chatting briskly enough. He suspected a bit of method in this, and -jumped to a conclusion that was not far from the mark. Whatever was -amiss with Step and Poke, the club was treating it as a secret, not to -be discussed before even so sympathetic an outsider as he was himself. -To tell the truth, Paul admired the new evidence of the strength of -the bond which held this group of chums. As it happened, he had many -friends but few intimates; and sometimes he had longed for just such -close association as the Safety First Club provided. - -For a time the road crossed ground with which Varley had some slight -acquaintance, but then Lon turned sharply to the left and toward the -narrow cleft in the hills which Sam once had pointed out to Paul as the -entrance to Sugar Valley. On close inspection the pass was narrower -even than it had appeared to be from a distance. On both sides the -rocky banks rose so steeply as to suggest cliffs, while at their base -flowed the Sugar River, a considerable stream, at least in spring -time. It was spanned by two bridges, one a gaunt steel structure -carrying railroad tracks, the other a covered highway bridge, of the -old-fashioned wooden construction. Both these bridges were close to -the mouth of the glen, and their piers seemed half to fill the space -between the banks of the river. The water was swirling merrily about -the masonry, against which from time to time little floes of ice dashed -with a fine crash; a ragged fringe of fragments lined the banks; the -air was full of spray of a peculiarly chilly and penetrating quality. -The boys dug their chins into the collars of their overcoats as the -sleigh dragged across the bridge. - -“Whew! Talk about your cold storage plants!” cried the Trojan--and that -was what all of them thought. - -Then a twist in the road showed them that the valley broadened widely, -with ranges of low hills on either hand. Near the river they saw a -series of natural terraces, which a fanciful eye might have regarded -as suggesting shallow benches of a great amphitheatre. The hills were -wooded, and so was part of the lower ground, with dense swamp growth -here and there. The road hugged the base of the hills to the left. -Evidently it was much traveled, though there were few houses in sight. -Lon offered explanation of this. - -“Big farms along here, mostly. Been owned by the same families pretty -nigh ever since Adam and Eve came to the jumpin’ off place. Don’t quite -believe that, eh? Well, then, I’ll compromise, and make it since the -white folks came into this deestrict. But above here a piece there’s -quite a settlement. The Grants, though, belong down here in the old -settler class. Old Nahum Grant, he was one of the fust white men to---- -But, hullo! There’s the house now!” - -The boys looked in the direction in which his whip pointed. They saw a -comfortable farmhouse, big and roomy, and flanked by huge barns. Then -they were turning in at the gate, and pulling up before the house, -and the door was opening, and Mrs. Grant, more beaming than ever, was -bustling out to greet them. - -“My soul and body! but it does me good to see you all!” she exclaimed. -“Take a mopey, draggly day like this, and I didn’t know whether you’d -sorter back out about coming way out here. But you didn’t--and there’s -quite a lot of you. My, my, but I’m tickled! There haven’t been so many -young folks at the old place since I don’t know when!” - -“Yes, ma’am, we’re all here,” Lon made answer. “That is, unless -three-four fell out of the sleigh a mile or two back. With a load like -this a feller really ought to stop and take account of stock ’bout once -in so often.” - -“Bless me, if ’tain’t Lon Gates!” cried Mrs. Grant delightedly. “I vow, -but it’s a sight for sore eyes!” - -“Same to you, ma’am, and three or four times over!” Lon responded -gallantly. Then he surrendered the reins to a farm-hand, who came from -the barn, and stepped to the porch, where Mrs. Grant was shaking hands -with the boys, duly presented in turn by Sam. - -Mr. Grant came out of the house to join in the welcome to the visitors. -He was a thin, elderly man, with a wisp of gray whisker, a quiet -manner, and an eye which had a humorous twinkle. Then he and his wife -shepherded the party indoors. - -Paul Varley glanced about him curiously. The low ceilings, the -home-made rugs on the floor, the kerosene lamps, the many rocking -chairs, the big horsehair covered lounge--these things quite matched -his expectations, but there were other things which jarred them. The -piano in a corner of the great living-room was a handsome instrument; -the gilded coils of a very modern steam radiator suggested that the -wide fireplace now served ornamental rather than useful purposes. -There were thriving plants at the windows, and on the center table -lay a number of magazines and illustrated weekly papers. Against one -wall stood a tall clock, which drew Paul like a magnet. His father -was somewhat of a collector, and the son had picked up some bits of -information about ancient timepieces. This one, unless he were much -mistaken, was very valuable. - -“My great-grandfather made that,” Mr. Grant explained. “That is, he had -it made.” - -“To order?” Paul asked. - -Mr. Grant chuckled softly. “It was very much that way. A friend of his, -who went to England, brought back the works at his request. Then a -traveling cabinet maker and jack-of-all-trades put the case together, -according to his ideas. Oh, yes, the journeyman and journeying mechanic -was an institution of those days; he’d make you a chest of drawers, or -a table, or a clock case, or anything else. So great-grandfather picked -his trees, and cut his lumber, and sawed his boards, and had the wood -thoroughly seasoned when the jack-of-all-trades came around to build -just such a clock as he wanted.” - -Paul nodded. “It seems to have been mighty good work, sir.” - -“That was a way they had,” said Mr. Grant. “They didn’t have so many -things then that they could afford to put up with slipshod work.” Then -he turned to the Shark, who had marched up to a framed map, hanging -near the clock, and was peering at it through his spectacles. - -“There’s an odd heirloom, young man. Know what it is?” - -“Of course,” said the Shark crisply. “Relief map--I’ve seen the big one -of the whole state in the capitol.” - -“Right! But this just shows Sugar Valley.” - -“So I see,” quoth the Shark quite as crisply as before, and continued -his study. The map was like a carving, depressions being represented -by gouges in the wood of which it was made, and tiny ridges showing -the terraces before one came to the greater elevation of the bordering -hills. The course of the river and its tributary brooks could be very -clearly followed. The Shark ran a finger along one of the curving -levels, an action which caught the attention of Mrs. Grant. Instantly -she was beside him. - -“Well, did you find any?” she demanded; her tone was hardly tart, but -it was tinged with suspicion. - -“Of course I did,” said the Shark. “I knew it’d have to be there.” - -Thereupon Mrs. Grant promptly caught his hand and peered quite as -closely at the tip of the exploring finger as the Shark had peered at -the map. - -“Nonsense! There isn’t a particle!” she cried indignantly. - -“There is,” said the Shark bluntly. “Feeling is often more accurate -than sight, and I felt it distinctly.” - -Mrs. Grant gasped. “Goodness gracious, boy! Your mother must be one of -those miracle housekeepers to bring you up to notice such things!” - -“Eh?” The Shark, in turn, was bewildered, but luckily bethought him of -his manners. “Excuse me, Mrs. Grant, but--but we can’t be talking about -the same thing.” - -“I’m talking about dust!” - -“Oh!” There was relief in the Shark’s tone: also there was a little -impatience. “Dust nothing! What do I care--er--er--I mean I was pretty -sure there was a minor water-shed right there, but I had to feel to -make certain. The light, you know, is not very strong; hence the chance -of error of vision is increased, and----” - -Mrs. Grant’s laugh cut him short. It, too, betrayed relief. - -“Ha, ha, ha! And I thought, if there’d been any error of vision, it -must ’a’ been mine, when I dusted yesterday! And I don’t make my brags -about some things, but if anybody can find dirt----” - -There she checked herself, and laughed again. “Mercy me, boys, hear me -run on! But I’m like everybody else; I’ve got my prejudices, and if -you get me started---- There, there! I’m starting, but I’m starting -myself. And what you’re really thinking about, I’ll warrant, is dinner, -for you’ll be hungry as bears--or boys--after your ride. I never could -see much difference--between the bears and the boys. Not that I knew -any bears real well, but I did get acquainted with a lot of boys, and -they’d act sometimes a good deal the way folks say bears’ll take on, -especially about meal time. But ‘error of vision’--and what was that -other thing--‘minor water-shed,’ wasn’t it? Somehow, the boys I’ve -known didn’t talk much about such things.” - -“Oh, that’s just the Shark’s way, ma’am,” Sam hastened to explain. -“You see he’s a crackerjack at mathematics, and it’s all he cares for. -That’s why we call him the Shark--he gobbles up problems so! And when -he saw that funny map, he couldn’t help figuring what it meant.” - -“He figured one thing correctly, at any rate,” said Mr. Grant. “There -is a water-shed there, for there’s a spring, and the overflow drains -north.” - -“Well, there’ll be time enough for surveying talk, or whatever you call -it, after dinner,” his wife interposed decidedly. “Come on, everybody! -The things are on the table.” - -The boys streamed into the dining-room, and took the places their -hostess pointed out. Varley was again unobtrusively observant. This -room, like the other, was big and cheery, with plants at the windows. A -huge sideboard, set on curiously slender legs, ran half the length of -one of the walls. Above it was a shelf on which stood a fine old clock. -The table was very long; long enough, indeed, to accommodate all the -party, including Lon, who took his chair quite as a matter of course. -The cloth was fine and snowy white; the china and glass good, though -a bit miscellaneous in design. Varley was clever enough to understand -that the Grants evidently were very comfortably well-to-do, and this -was borne out by the hospitable profusion with which the board was -spread. There was set before Mr. Grant a huge platter, piled high with -chicken fried a wonderful brown. There were mashed potatoes, and beets, -and onions, and other vegetables; there was a wholesale supply of apple -sauce and cranberries, and half a dozen kinds of pickles. There were -supplies of bread and butter for a small regiment, and tall pitchers of -milk, with a steaming urn of coffee, over which Mrs. Grant presided. -A ruddy and somewhat agitated maid hovered about her mistress, with -whom she exchanged stage whispers frequently, followed by raids upon -the pantry and replenishment of this or that dish. It was all very -informal, very jolly, and, above all, very, very good. There were -certain flaky biscuits, which captivated Paul, and of which he consumed -more than he liked to keep count of; though nobody seemed to bother -on that score. Twice his plate went back for more chicken, following, -be it said, the example set by other plates. The ride had sharpened -appetites, which were healthily developed, anyway; the blandishments -of Mrs. Grant were hardly needed to persuade her guests to prove -themselves mighty trenchermen. - -In that hospitable warmth good fellowship reigned. Step threw off his -burden of care because of Poke’s misfortune, while Poke himself roused -to a somewhat subdued cheerfulness. There might be dark trouble ahead, -but for the present he gave himself to the good things of the moment. - -Sam was as merry as the others, but a shadow of apprehension fell upon -his face when Mrs. Grant rose and slipped into the pantry, whence -proceeded sounds of her whispered conference with her assistant. Sam, -of a sudden, had warnings. He had almost forgotten that long-promised -mince pie; now he recalled it, with remembrance of the anguish of mind -it had caused him and wonder if it was to put him to further ordeals. -Luckily, he had not long to wait in uncertainty. The pantry door -swung. Appeared Mrs. Grant personally bearing the famous pie, the maid -escorting her. - -And what a pie it was! - -Lon’s admiring exclamation was no more than deserved tribute. “Great -Scott, Mis’ Grant, but you sure done it this time! I’ve been brung -up with pies, and I thought I’d seen all kinds they was, but I never -clapped eyes on an old he-one like that! Jupiter crickets!” - -Now, in truth, it was a great pie, an enormous pie, a pie of -dimensions, baked in the biggest dish any of the boys had ever seen -so used; a dish deep and wide. And it was a pie crowned with a gently -rising dome of crust, tinted with the rich brown which bespeaks perfect -cooking. Mrs. Grant set it on the table; the maid came, bearing a pile -of plates. Knife in hand, the hostess paused to address the company. - -“Boys, I can’t make a speech, but I’m going to tell you something. It’s -kind of a family tradition of the Grants--a mince pie is. Why, way back -in the days of Dominie Pike----” - -“Dominie Pike!” It was the usually silent Tom Orkney who spoke, and his -voice had a queer trace of excitement. - -Mrs. Grant turned to him. “Why, yes--the Grants claim descent from him. -But what’s the matter?” - -Tom went a fiery red under the gaze of the company. “I--I--oh, -nothing’s the matter,” he stammered confusedly. “Only the name--it’s -odd, you know, and--and----” - -Mrs. Grant nodded briskly. “Does sound odd these times--‘Dominie Pike.’ -And I guess he was an odd stick himself, for all he was a minister -and mighty close to a great man. But you’re waiting to hear what he -has to do with mince pies--the Grant kind. Well, I’ll tell you. Once -he came back, nigh starved and poor as Job’s turkey after one of his -trips in the woods with his Indian friends. Never heard about his -chumming around with the old chiefs? Well, he did, and they thought -a sight of him. But that ain’t the story I’m telling. You see, he’d -been away a long time, and supplies at home were running mighty low. -And his wife, she’d got most desperate. So what did she do, but take -all the scraps and odds and ends she had--and they were about all she -did have, I guess--and make ’em into a pie. And it turned out nearer a -mince pie than any other kind. And just when it was done and cooling, -and the children were licking their lips and rubbing their poor -little tummies, home comes the Dominie out of the woods. And he sees -that blessed pie, and he descends upon it like a wolf. And he eats it -all, every crumb. And everybody’s so glad to see him alive nobody says -anything to warn him that he’s putting away the family’s dinner--and -supper, too, I reckon. - -“And finally he pushes back the plate, and sits quiet for a minute. And -then he looks at his wife, and his eye sort of twinkles. And he says in -his way--and it was a good deal of a way he had, by all the stories--he -says: ‘Wife, as you well know, I hold not with the pomps and vanities. -But, for sustenance and nourishing qualities, yonder pastry appears to -me to have possessed certain worthy qualities. So I do advise that in -the event of good service by any of these children here present, they -be reasonably rewarded with a pie like this one.’ - -“And that’s the story that has been handed down in the family; and -that’s the reason we’ve set great store by our mince pies as rewards -of merit. And so, when Master Sam Parker”--here she beamed on that -youth--“when he did me a very good turn, I just naturally made up my -mind to treat him by the Dominie Pike recipe. Sometimes I’ve wondered -if he didn’t think a mince pie was a funny medal, but now he knows--and -you friends of his know--why you’re facing this mince pie, and why I -expect you to treat it the way the old Dominie treated his. If you -leave a crumb of it, I shan’t like it one bit--so there!” - -“Oh, you won’t be disappointed!” Sam cried hastily. “It--it’s a -beautiful pie. And--and I like the story that goes with it,” he added -after the briefest of pauses. - -Mrs. Grant gave him a glance of understanding. “Well, now, I thought -you might,” she said. “Boys are funny--you never can tell how -things’ll strike ’em. And a pie--even a mince pie--might worry some -of them, if it was a--a--well, a present, you know, and meant for -sort of a good conduct badge, and so on. And if they didn’t take it -right--why--why----” - -Then Sam spoke with decision and emphasis. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. -Grant,” he said. “This bully pie is going to be taken right!” - -The lady’s broad-bladed knife drove through the crust of the great pie. - -“Have those plates ready, Hannah!” she warned the maid. “And don’t -forget the whipped cream--no, nor the maple fluff.” Again she glanced -at her guest of honor. “Which will you have with the pie? Maybe, -though, you’d like both.” With practiced hand she was removing a -huge sector and placing it upon a plate. “Both, did you say? They go -together very nicely.” - -Two big glass bowls had been set beside the monster pie, one filled -with cream beaten to a delightful fluffiness, the other with something -very pleasing to the eye and suggesting to Varley a light caramel. - -“I’ll try both,” said Sam valiantly. - -“Good for you!” exclaimed his hostess. “That’s one comfort of having -boys around, though. When you take extra trouble to please ’em, they’ll -meet you half-way. They’ve got real appetites, and they know what to -do with them. Now, I don’t believe Dominie Pike had whipped cream with -his pie, but that was his misfortune and not his fault. And as for the -maple fluff--well, we set great store by that in Sugar Valley, which -wouldn’t have been called so if it wasn’t for its maple sugar.” - -Paul Varley spoke a bit impetuously: “Oh, maple sugar? After dinner we -may see how it’s made, mayn’t we?” - -Mrs. Grant nodded briskly. “Indeed you shall! The sap isn’t really -running yet, but we’ve got all the fixings.... Quick! More plates, -Hannah!” She was serving the dessert with dextrous speed. “Don’t wait, -boys!... And you’ll have both trimmings, won’t you?” She now was -addressing Poke. “Excuse me if I can’t keep all your names straight, -but you look as if you might have a sweet tooth.” - -“Yes, ma’am, both, if you please,” said Poke heartily. For the moment, -at least, he had quite forgotten his sorrows. - -Mrs. Grant beamed upon him. “That’s what I like to hear! Give me good, -lusty boys every time!... And it’ll be both for you, too, won’t it?” -she asked, turning to Step. - -The elongated youth quite matched Poke’s heartiness. “Yes, ma’am, both -will do very nicely.” - -Lon Gates chuckled. “Oh, he can stand it, all right. Some folks is -built to stow it sideways, and some to stow it up and down.” - -“And some take care of it both ways, eh?” - -“Yes’m, that’s me,” quoth Lon, quite unabashed. “’Specially when it -comes to Sugar Valley mince pies,” he added gallantly. - -It was a deserved tribute. Every boy at the table was ready to vow that -never had there been another mince pie to match the toothsome marvel of -Sugar Valley cookery, composed and baked for the honor and delectation -of Sam Parker and his friends. - - - - -CHAPTER XII EXPLORING THE VALLEY - - -Probably everybody notices, from time to time, how things which would -seem to be trifling in themselves bring about results which are -anything but trifling. Paul Varley’s interest in sugar making was to -prove a case in point. - -If Varley had not been with the Safety First Club that day, it is -altogether likely that the trip to the maple groves would have been -omitted. The big dinner, with Sam’s wonderful mince pie as its climax, -left the Grants’ guests very well pleased with the world in general but -not at all disposed to exertion, especially as the weather showed no -improvement. Back in the great living-room the party settled down in a -semicircle before the open fireplace, where now a cheery little pile of -birch was blazing. - -“We’ll have it for company, anyway,” Mrs. Grant explained, as she -touched a match to the kindling. “The steam keeps us warm enough--and -some to spare--days like this, but I must say I like the sparkle and -crackle. Kind of sociable like, ain’t it?” - -“Yes’m--makes me think of a lively widow next door!” chuckled Lon. - -“Hm-m! Don’t see as you’ve got any call, Lon Gates, to make jokes about -widows,” said Mrs. Grant with spirit. “None of ’em’s got you yet.” - -“Well, you never can tell, ma’am. I’m young yet.” - -Mrs. Grant shook her head, half reprovingly. “I believe you are, Lon. -Still, I remember when----” - -“When I could eat a meal like these youngsters have just stowed away,” -Lon put in. “Yes’m, yes’m; that’s so. But I’ll say this, ma’am: I -didn’t get many such chances in my time to treat myself like an -anacondy snake same as these youngsters have.” - -“Nonsense! They’ve just nice, wholesome appetites.” - -Lon chuckled again. “Well, maybe you’re right, at that. Fillin’ a -growin’ boy is a good deal like pourin’ water into a sieve. But jest -for the time bein’, I’d say, you’ve got this crowd full to the brim.” - -The Shark rose rather jerkily, and walked up to the profile map. He -regarded it with a fascination like that the ill-omened vase at the -hotel had had for Poke. Mr. Grant joined him. - -“My father made that,” said the farmer. “You see, it was this way: One -winter he was laid up with a broken leg, and wanted to have something -to keep him busy. He’d done some work on the big map at the state -house--he was a surveyor, among other things, you understand--and it -struck him he’d fix up this affair for our valley. It happened he’d run -levels all over it, and had his records; so he had plenty to go by. And -they do say this is amazing accurate. Why, when the government men came -through here a few years back----” - -“I know--they mapped all this region,” the Shark interrupted. “Computed -elevations, set monuments, all that sort of thing.” - -“Well, they found father had hit mighty close to the mark. And their -monuments--that’s your word for ’em, eh?--you can find three-four of -’em scattered around. Mostly they’re on the hills, but down by the -river they set one on a little rise. If ’twa’n’t for the snow you could -find it easily.” - -The Shark ran his eye over the map. “The valley’s really like a big -bowl,” said he, meditatively. “And that’s a mighty narrow outlet--place -we came through, where the bridges are--more like the neck of a bottle. -I should think the ice would jam there. Then if there should be a -flood--say, things would happen!” - -“So they would. But the big dam up above’ll hold, I guess. You see, -years ago there was a scheme to turn the whole valley into a reservoir, -but it’d have taken more money than the folks could raise. So they went -up-stream a few miles, and put in their dam there. But we ain’t had any -floods in Sugar Valley, for all the mouth of it’s like the mouth of a -bottle, as you were saying.” - -“Exactly!” quoth the Shark, but kept his gaze upon the map. “And so -there is a government marker down by the river--on a little rise? -Wonder if it isn’t about there?” - -Mr. Grant looked at the spot to which the Shark pointed. “You’ve hit it -close, young man,” he declared. - -A very slight, but very satisfied, smile lessened the severity of -the Shark’s expression. “I felt pretty sure I had,” he remarked -complacently. - -Mrs. Grant turned from poking the fire and mounding the birch logs to -her fancy. - -“No; we don’t have floods often in Sugar Valley,” she observed, “though -anybody might think we would. Somehow, the river takes care of the -water. Of course, ’way back in Dominie Pike’s time, they did have some -amazing freshets--he told about ’em in his diary, you know.” - -Tom Orkney bent forward. “Then you’ve seen the diary, ma’am?” he -inquired eagerly. - -Mrs. Grant laughed. “Bless your heart, no! It disappeared years before -I happened along.” - -“Oh!” There was a disappointment in Tom’s tone, which didn’t escape -Mrs. Grant’s attention. - -“It is an awful pity!” she said. “The Dominie, I guess, put down ’most -everything that happened, and if folks could find his book now, they -could settle a lot of points they’re disputing. But seventy-five or -eighty years ago people didn’t set such store by old things--they were -too glad to get new ones, maybe--and so lots of stuff was lost that -would bring high prices nowadays. Why, the diary just knocked about, -as you might say--or part of it did. Mr. Grant’s grandfather always -insisted that the Dominie filled three or four note-books, and that the -one folks saw--that’s the one, by the way, all the stories told now -are based on--why, he always argued that that was the last, or next to -the last, of the set. ’Tis a fact it didn’t tell much about the very -earliest days of the settlement--I’ve heard that point spoken of. But, -anyway, it passed from hand to hand in the family, and was borrowed by -neighbors, and got all thumbed and dog-eared, and worn and tattered; -and, finally, it just dropped out of sight. Too bad, but that’s what -happened.” - -“Nobody copied it?” asked Tom. - -“Why--why, yes and no. Nobody copied it all--nobody thought it worth -the trouble in those days. I’ve seen in old letters lots of references -to it and its stories, and once or twice I’ve come across short -quotations from it. But there’s another mix-up--in trying to find out -about it now, I mean. You see, along about 1800 there was a Grant who -was a great practical joker, and sort of a bookish fellow, too; and, -somehow, the combination set him to writing a burlesque diary. It was -about people of his time, but he imitated the Dominie’s style, and he -was a clever hand at it; and what with most of the family names around -here being the same as in the Dominie’s day and the imitation being so -good--well, after a while even folks who’d read both got sort of mixed -as to what was in which. So now nobody really knows where truth ends -and jokes begin in half the traditions of the town. What makes it worse -is that the Grant diary disappeared, too. Very likely the man who wrote -it destroyed it, when he got older, and took a more serious view of -life.” - -“Oh!” said Orkney again. There was still disappointment in his tone. - -“We’ve looked high and low for both books, of course; but I guess -they’re lost for good. This valley, you know, was where the Dominie -settled. He gave it the name it’s had ever since--Sugar Valley. That -was because he found the Indians here were making sugar. Mighty poor -stuff it was, probably, and more than half dirt. But it was sweet, -and real sugar was hard to get. Maybe that was one reason the Dominie -stayed here, and built a cabin, and then a house, and finally a better -house. Oh, it was quite a mansion, that last house of his was--a sort -of show place, though I guess there weren’t many people to show it -to. But it was made of sawed boards instead of logs, and there was a -wonderful great chimney, and the fireplaces were as big as some rooms -are nowadays. Yes, and one of the up-stairs rooms had a fireplace; and -that, I guess, was a sort of eighth wonder of the world--this part of -the world, anyway. But here I am, talking as if you couldn’t see the -place for yourselves, if you want to.” - -“Then it still stands?” Orkney asked. - -“Indeed it does! Nobody has lived in it for years and years, but it’s -still there--nearly a mile from here, and close to the river. Of -course, it’s rickety, but it doesn’t tumble down, and I don’t see any -signs that it’s likely to. Once or twice we’ve talked about restoring -it, and fixing it up, but we’ve never got around to do it; though some -folks say we ought to turn it into a sort of historical museum. But, as -I say, we haven’t got to it. And as for exploring the old place--why, -why--a miserable day like this----” - -Mrs. Grant hesitated. As she chanced to be looking at Varley, it was he -who made answer to her unfinished question. - -“Oh, another time will do just as well. And it was the sugar making -that we’d especially like to see, you know.” - -“You’re interested in that, then?” - -“Very interested; it’ll be all new to me. And--and”--Paul smiled -engagingly--“and your maple fluff, Mrs. Grant, was awfully good. It -made a fellow all the more anxious to find out about the flavoring.” - -Mrs. Grant was pleased, and showed it. “So you liked it, then? Well, -’tis kind of tasty, though there’s really nothing to it but whipped -white of egg, and just a mite of cream, and a dash of maple. But put it -on mince pie----” - -“Geeminy, but it’s cracking good!” Step interrupted. - -“Why, I’d call it grand,” quoth Poke solemnly, and licked his lips -reminiscently. - -Then Mrs. Grant laughed. “Ha, ha, ha! I vow, but there’d be some -satisfaction in cooking for a lot of folks like you boys! But if you -want to see where the maple comes from--why, I don’t want to turn you -out in the wet, but you ought to be looking around while the light’s as -good as it’s likely to be this day. And so, if Mr. Grant is ready, and -you’re ready to start--why, that’s just what I’d do if I were you.” - -Now, probably there was nobody concerned--except Varley, of course--who -wouldn’t have been willing to omit the expedition. But Paul was -genuinely interested, and so evident was this fact that none of -the others were willing to offer objection. Caps and overcoats and -overshoes were brought out and donned, and with Mr. Grant in the lead -the party streamed out of the house. - -“Don’t stay too long!” Mrs. Grant called after them. “My, but it’s -getting to be weepy weather! Well, I’ll have something warm and -comforting waiting for you when you come back.” - -“Weepy weather,” indeed, fitted the case. The air was milder than ever, -and more charged with moisture. Eaves were dripping, and little streams -trickled down the trunks of the trees; under foot the melting snow lay -in a dwindling, soggy mass. What was more, a thin drizzle was falling, -hardly to be called a rain, but curiously searching and penetrating in -its dampness. - -Mr. Grant glanced at the leaden sky, and shook his head. - -“Well, if I had to guess, I’d say things were going to be worse before -they’re better,” he remarked. “Way the wind’s been hanging in the -east----” - -“More southeast, ain’t it?” Lon inquired. - -“In-between. Vane on the barn ain’t hardly wiggled all day. And it’s -pointing right to where our big rains hail from. Funny we haven’t had -it harder. Up-river they’ve been getting a reg’lar downpour, accordin’ -to what they’re telephoning.” - -“Umph!” said Lon. “Then you’ll be havin’ a sight o’ water for this -river o’ yourn to take care of, won’t you?” - -“Well, it’s done just that every spring,” said Mr. Grant. - -“Mebbe. Only I’ve got kinder a notion from the feel o’ things that -there’s a reg’lar weather buster brewin’.” - -“My notion ain’t so far from yours,” Mr. Grant agreed. Then he turned -to the boys. “We’ll take a look at what we call the ‘Island’--that’s -where we make most of our sugar. Got some trees tapped already, though -the season ain’t really begun yet. But it’ll be easier to show you than -to tell you about it. So come along!” - -They followed him, in Indian file, along a well-beaten path through -the snow, a path that wound and twisted to avoid groves and patches of -thicket. The floor of the valley seemed to be almost level, after the -descent from the natural terrace on which the house stood; but, plainly -enough, not much of the land was under cultivation. Except for the fact -that their course was generally toward the river, the boys had little -idea of their destination, and Sam, with the teachings of Safety First -in mind, remarked to himself that here was a stretch of country in -which a fellow might very easily lose his bearings. Not that he had any -thought of danger. Even if anybody lost his way, temporarily, he could -steer for the hills and so, sooner or later, come to higher ground and -the road. So he trudged along, digging his chin deep in his upturned -collar, and making the best of unpleasant conditions. - -Sam noticed, presently, that one at least of his companions was showing -signs of losing heart. Poke had started out near the head of the line, -and, comforted by food and warmth, had appeared to be in excellent -spirits. Very soon, however, the melancholy weather had its effect. -Probably it reminded him of his gloomy prospects and the staggering -bill for the big vase. At any rate, his steps lagged. One after another -passed him, until he was the last straggler in the line. As it proved, -he was far behind the rest of the party when they came to the “Island.” - -As has been said, this was not an island, but a low knoll, covered by a -fine growth of maples. On one side stood a small building, half house, -half shed; and here was an equipment of great kettles for “boiling -down” the collected sap. There was an orderly pile of new cans, in -which the syrup would be shipped, and there were boxes awaiting the -sugar, to which part of the yield of the grove would be reduced. - -“I hear they’ve got a lot of newfangled modern improvements,” Mr. -Grant remarked, “but we stick to the old ways. Of course, we ain’t -big producers and shippers, but we manage ’most every season to do -something of a trade. And now I’ll show you how we do it.” - -With that he took Varley in hand. He displayed the little spouts which -were placed in holes in the maple trunks, and along which the sap ran -to pails. Then he showed big buckets, into which collectors emptied -the contents of the pails, and which brought their gallons and gallons -of the thin sap to the kettles, there to be reduced in volume and -increased in density until the required standard for syrup was reached. - -“This isn’t a big plant,” he explained, “but, after all, we’re pretty -busy around here, when things get going. Fires have to be kept up, -and sap has to be brought in; and of course it’s a short season, -at the best, and so there has to be a hustle. When the sap starts -running--why, we have to run, too.” - -“Then it hasn’t started yet?” Varley asked. - -“It’s starting--the warm spell sets it going. But ’tain’t a full flow -yet. You can see we’ve got some trees tapped”--he pointed to a near-by -part of the grove--“and if a freeze don’t come to check things, we’ll -be in full swing a good deal quicker than I’d care to be. Somehow, -I don’t like the looks of the weather, or the feel of it, for that -matter.” - -Varley was quite ready to agree with Mr. Grant on this score. The -dismal day was growing more dismal still; the drizzle was heavier; the -dense gray clouds seemed to hang lower. The other boys, to whom a sugar -camp was an old story, were huddling in the lee of the house. Varley -noticed that Poke, most sorrowful of face, was in low-toned talk with -Step, who seemed rapidly to be becoming as melancholy as his chum. Then -Sam joined the pair, and the whispered conversation went on, with no -sign of rising spirits. - -Varley was clever enough to make a shrewd guess at the situation. -Doubtless, sooner or later, he would hear all about it, but just now -the club was keeping its own counsel. So he remained near Mr. Grant -until the latter was called into the house by his hired man, who seemed -to be unable to find a big ladle, of which he announced himself in -search. - -Left alone, Paul took note that the Shark, who was peering at the lower -ground about the “Island” and mumbling to himself in dissatisfied -fashion, appeared to be on the point of starting on some small -expedition of his own. Paul crossed to him. - -“What’s up?” he inquired. “Looking for something?” - -The Shark merely grunted. - -“What is it?” - -“The marker.” - -“Eh?” Paul had not been especially impressed by the map or the talk -about it. - -“Can’t you hear?” snapped the Shark. “Marker, I said--marker the -government surveyors left. Bet you I know where it is!” - -“Oh! do you?” said Varley, a little vaguely. - -The Shark snorted. “Huh! Sure I know--if the survey and the map match. -Ought to be out there.” And he pointed into the mists toward the river. - -“Oh, had it?” - -“Of course it had! And I’m going to find it.” - -“I’ll help you,” said Varley readily. - -“Shucks! You don’t know how,” said the Shark bluntly. - -Varley was good-natured. Moreover, the youthful mathematician appealed -to his sense of humor. - -“Well, maybe you can show me how.” - -“That’s so,” the Shark admitted. - -“Then I may come along?” - -“If you’d like to,” quoth the Shark, half-grudgingly, and started off. - -Varley followed him. Mr. Grant and his helper were still in the house, -and the other boys were grouped about Poke. None of them, as it -happened, observed the departure of the two. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII THE SHARK DEMONSTRATES - - -Varley splashed after his leader. No other word would quite describe -the sort of journey he made at the heels of the Shark; for as soon as -they had descended from the slight rise of the “Island,” and come to -the lower levels, they encountered many evidences of the rapid progress -of the thaw. Probably even in summer there was more or less swampy -ground hereabouts; but now water from the melting snow stood in shallow -pools, through which the Shark marched unconcernedly. He was wearing -big overshoes, with tops of waterproof cloth buckled tightly about the -bottoms of his trousers, and appeared to give no more thought to the -puddles underfoot than he gave to the rain. - -Paul had a somewhat different equipment, inasmuch as he was shod in -leather only, but leather prepared by some new process for rough wear -and guaranteed to be water-tight. So far the new shoes--they laced -well up his legs--had seemed to meet the guarantee, but he began to -wonder if they would continue to do so. Certainly he was putting them -to an extreme test, as, for that matter, he was testing the qualities -of his heavy outer jacket. Indeed, he smiled more than once to himself -as he thought how curiously unlike his city experience it was to be -trudging along on such a day, and in such a place, and, it may be -added, in such company. For the Shark surely was an odd stick. He -hardly opened his lips as they tramped along, but Varley found him -entertaining, for all that. - -Thick clumps of undergrowth here and there prevented a march in a -straight course, and also so narrowed the field of view that Paul had -small notion of the direction they were taking. The Shark, however, -went along quite as if he were on familiar ground. To be sure, he -glanced about him frequently, but with an effect, almost, of picking up -landmarks; and, presently, quickening his pace, headed straight into a -hedge-like line of bushes, forced a passage through them, and gave a -grunt of satisfaction. - -“Ugh! Hit it about right. Not too far up--that’s the main thing.” - -Paul overtook him, and halting, as he had halted, looked out upon the -Sugar River. It was a sizable stream at all times, but now, swollen by -melting snow, it was a river of imposing proportions. It was running -almost bank full. There was a great deal of ice coming down-stream; the -cakes, in some cases, were like small floes. The current was swift, -and the cakes ground and grated together savagely. Moreover, the water -was of a muddy color, which could have had nothing to do with its -temperature, but which, for some reason Paul didn’t understand, made -him shiver. - -“Whew! I’d hate to have to take a dip in there,” said he. - -The Shark nodded absently. He was giving a moment to studying the -opposite bank. - -“Of course--too cold.... Be too cold for two months yet,” he added. - -Varley pushed the collar of his coat higher. If he were not mistaken, -the rain was increasing. Funny how sight of that yellow, rushing river -made everything seem more dismal than ever, he reflected. - -Somewhere in the dim distance the Shark made out what he had been -looking for. - -“Um-m! That’ll be it--highest ground anywhere around. Now, if I can -get a line----” He broke off the sentence, and, turning, stared in the -direction in which, by Varley’s hazy reckoning, lay the Grant farmhouse. - -“What are you up to?” Paul inquired. - -“What do you s’pose?” countered the Shark testily. “Think I’m looking -for birds’ nests?” - -“Oh, no,” Varley answered humbly; just then he was not disposed to -controversy. His tone was not lost upon the Shark, who said, quickly -and almost apologetically: - -“Oh, I say! ’Tisn’t as if you knew more--er--er--as if you were better -posted, I mean. Ought to have thought of that! But I’m getting my -bearings. And I _am_ getting them, too.” - -“Your bearings?” Paul repeated, doubtfully. “Then you’ve been here -before.” - -“Never in my life. Saw that map, though, didn’t I?” - -“The map? But--but you didn’t commit it to memory, did you?” - -“Only the most important part of it,” said the Shark simply. “Few of -the elevations--that sort of thing. They were marked down plain as -print.” - -“I didn’t notice ’em,” Varley confessed. - -The Shark’s lip curled. “Huh! What do you have eyes for?” Then he -recalled that the other was in a sense a stranger and a guest. “I -mean, it’s a mighty good scheme, when you see figures, to jot ’em down -in memory. Then, if you’ve got nothing else to do, you can have fun -thinking ’em over and setting yourself little problems with ’em. Now, -this valley’d fool you. Lot less slope to the floor of it than you’d -suppose. And the way the hills line up--say, though, didn’t notice -that, either, did you?” - -“I--I guess I didn’t.” - -“It would have paid you. That government marker we’re looking for is -right between the two highest hills--one on each side of the valley. -That is, it is, if the map’s accurate. So far, everything’s working -out all right. I schemed on hitting the river a little below the real -point and working up, and I think I’ve done it. Now let’s get along. -Ready?” - -“After you,” said Varley. - -“Good!” cried the Shark, and off he set, not keeping to the bank of the -stream, but bearing away from it on a long diagonal. - -Varley pursued him. By this time there could be no doubt that the rain -was heavier. Underfoot, even where there were no puddles, the snow was -a clammy mush of penetrating chill. Varley began to suspect the worth -of that guarantee of his new shoes. Very gladly he would have turned -back, had he been alone; but, being with the Shark, he followed his -leader, who plodded on, giving no heed to rain or snow. Again they came -to clumps of brush, and made detours about them. At intervals the Shark -halted briefly, scanned his surroundings, grunted and went on. Varley -felt sure they were getting far from the island, though he would have -been put to it to make an estimate of the distance. - -The Shark began to slacken pace. His halts for observation were more -frequent and longer. Once or twice he even turned back briefly, working -over ground they had crossed a moment before. Varley saw that a frown -was on his face. - -“Are we--are we ’most there?” he inquired solicitously. - -“Huh! Ought to be.” - -Varley cast a glance about him. “I don’t see anything of that--that -marker, you called it, didn’t you?” - -Very deliberately the Shark removed his spectacles, and pulled out a -handkerchief. He cleared the lenses of moisture, set them before his -eyes, peered--or tried to peer--at the hills. But the thickening rain -hid them. - -“Huh! Closing in, ain’t it?” he growled. - -“It surely is!” Varley agreed. - -“Then I’ll have to depend more on dead reckoning. Let’s see! Um--um! -Allowing for the---- Look here!” The Shark whipped about to glare at -his companion. “Look here! Don’t suppose that map’s inaccurate, do you?” - -“I don’t know.” - -“Well, I’m going to know--and know mighty quick,” said the Shark -grimly. “That marker ought to be within a hundred yards--no, within -fifty--of where we are this minute. Maybe there’s snow over it. Still, -it ought to show--way the stuff’s melting and going off, you know.” - -Varley said “Yes,” because he did not know what else to say. He was -about to add that it was raining a lot harder, when his comrade gave a -shout, and, darting across the little open space in which they chanced -to be, dropped on his knees beside an object just protruding from the -remains of a snow bank. With frantic haste the Shark tore away the -heavy snow, revealing a low stone post, bearing a cryptical, chiseled -inscription, of which Varley could make nothing. But the Shark was -raising a shout of jubilation. - -“Bully for us! Bully for the map! It’s all right! We’re all right! Say, -ain’t this cracking good sport, Varley?” - -Paul tried to feign friendly enthusiasm, but he was too damp to be very -successful. - -“It--it’s wonderful. Why--why--why, you didn’t know anything about this -place except what that map told you, and you came straight to--to where -you wanted to come! I--I never heard anything like it!” - -The Shark patted the stone with a demonstrative affection Varley hadn’t -dreamed he was capable of displaying. - -“Bully old rock! Sure you’d be here, where you belong! Oh, but I say! -This is just the greatest sport outdoors!” - -“But I don’t see--the marker wasn’t shown on the map--it was put in -long after the map was made--I don’t understand----” - -The Shark interrupted Varley’s broken speech. - -“Of course! But naturally it would be put about here by the government -men. If you’d taken a good look at the map, you’d have seen why. You’d -get the line. Then Mr. Grant as good as pointed out the spot. After -that it was just a case of getting the bearings in your head and -keeping them there--easy as falling off a log, wasn’t it?” - -“It seems to have been easy for you,” Paul confessed. “But--but now -that this is done, what--er--er--what do you want to do next?” - -“I don’t care--anything,” shrugged the Shark. - -A dash of rain drove into Paul’s face, and gave a hardly needed hint -of the desirability of shelter. - -“It’s getting pretty damp,” he said. “We ought to go back, or find some -cover till there’s a let up in the shower.” - -“Oh, all right,” said the Shark carelessly. “Just as you please--’tis -getting to be quite a rain, eh?” - -“Yes, it is. And it’s going to be a good deal of a tramp.” - -Thereupon the Shark squinted at the leaden sky. - -“Umph! Doesn’t show signs of clearing, I must say. Still, the weather’s -the weather, and what we know about it doesn’t make an exact science. -Maybe there’ll be a lull. Meanwhile, I suppose we might as well make -for the house.” - -“You mean the Grants’ house or the sugar camp?” - -“Neither. There’s another, nearer by.” - -“Oh!” said Varley, and, in spite of him, the doubt in his tone was -manifest. - -“Case of map again,” quoth the Shark. “House indicated somewhere ’round -here. Course, I didn’t pay the same attention to it that I would to -something that really mattered. But if you’d like to hunt it up, I’m -willing enough to hunt with you.” - -“I’d very much like to!” - -The Shark glanced about him. He furrowed his brow reflectively. - -“Let’s see, now! Farther along it was. Yes, and off to the left, I -should say--away from the river, that is. Um, um!... Hullo! What’s -that?” - -The “that” had been a sound, faint and far off, but easily to be known -as the whistle of a locomotive. Varley said as much, and said it a bit -testily; the rain was seemingly growing heavier every minute, and he -was becoming impatient to seek shelter. - -“Umph! I knew that, too--any chump’d know it,” growled the Shark. -“But was it from a main line engine or one of the old machines on the -branch?” - -Paul stared at him. “What difference----” he began hotly; then changed -his tone. “Say, you don’t mean to tell me you know all the engines by -their whistles?” - -“No; not all of ’em--my ear isn’t true enough,” the Shark confessed. “I -know a fellow, though, who can spot every last one as far as he can -hear it. He’s got absolute pitch.” - -“Eh?” - -“If he hears a sound he can tell you what’s the note--something like -that, anyway. Bully thing to be able to do! Still, you don’t have to -have the knack to get a lot out of music. I’m going in for music, by -the way, when I have time.” - -“Oh!” said Paul, dubiously. Somehow, the Shark never had suggested to -him one of musical tastes. “So you’re going in for it? Oh, yes! And -it’ll be--er--er--violin, or piano, or--or----” - -“Shucks, no!” The Shark’s lip curled scornfully. “What’d I want to play -anything for? And tunes? Bah! I can’t tell one from another. And what’s -the use of bothering to learn to play one instrument, when you can have -a whole band going for you by just starting up a phonograph? But they -tell me there’s really some good stuff under it all--real mathematics, -I mean, when you get into counterpoint, or whatever it is they call it. -So I’m going to take it up when I have a little leisure.” - -“Oh, I see--I get you,” said Paul. Then he was reminded by another -dash of rain that this was hardly a time for gossip in the open. “Now, -though, how about that house?” - -“Well, we’ll look for it,” said the Shark; and set off in the direction -in which he believed the building to be. - -Paul followed him. He noticed that his guide went more slowly than -before, and that he veered from left to right, and then from right to -left, as if desiring to cover a wider strip of territory. The brush -was not especially dense, but it was thick enough to limit the field -of view, so that often it was impossible to see more than a few score -yards ahead. Suddenly, however, the Shark pulled up. - -“Huh! That’ll be the place, I guess,” he announced. - -Paul made out dimly the line of a roof; but what with the rain, and the -trees, he could do little more than make it out. It was not, in fact, -until he and the Shark were close to the building that they obtained a -fair view of it. - -The house, evidently, was very old. So much could be guessed from the -mossy roof and weatherbeaten walls. Midway of the ridge-pole rose a -squat and very thick chimney. In front the house showed two stories, -but in the rear the roof ran in a great sweep from the ridge-pole to -within a couple of feet of the tops of the ground-floor windows. There -was no porch, and, indeed, the house was most severely plain in all its -outlines. - -“Huh! Old timer,” the Shark observed. “And nobody home!” - -Presumably it had been a good many years since anybody had been at -home there. Still, the place was not utterly neglected in appearance. -The stout shutters at the windows were closed, and the front door was -boarded up; what was once the front yard had been kept clear of brush. - -Varley surveyed the premises with a feeling of helplessness; they -seemed to offer no more shelter than was given by the leafless boughs -of the trees. - -“No; nobody home!” he echoed. - -The Shark grunted. “Ugh! Say, ’tis getting to rain!” One might suppose -from his tone that this was a fresh discovery. - -Varley nodded. As he did so, the motion sent a shower of drops flying -from the visor of his cap. - -The Shark gave a moment or two to consideration of the weather signs. -Then he shook himself much in the manner of a dog emerging from a pond. - -“Huh! Can’t say it looks like clearing. Still, you never can tell. So -long’s we’re here, we might as well crawl in somewhere out of the wet, -and wait a while.” - -“Where’s a place to crawl in?” - -The Shark stepped up to the door and gave a tug at the boards. They -were tightly nailed. - -“Huh! Nothing doing there,” he reported. - -“Nothing doing,” Varley repeated dismally. His courage was good enough, -but he was becoming acutely conscious of the physical drawbacks of the -situation. - -The Shark tried the nearest shutter. Its rusty catch proved obstinate, -but at last gave way, and the shutter swung, revealing the small panes -of the window. One or two were broken. Quite coolly the Shark smashed -another, and cautiously thrust a hand through the opening. - -“What! You’re going to break in?” Varley demanded. - -“I sure am! If I can find the thing that fastens this window!” quoth -the Shark. “No other way--that is, if we mean to get inside. We can pay -for any damage we do afterward, but just now our business is to get -somewhere out of the wet.” - -A sharp increase in the downpour--and by this time it undeniably -was a downpour--served to emphasize his words. Varley sprang to his -assistance, and the Shark finding the nail which had served as a lock, -their united efforts contrived to raise the lower sash. The Shark -climbed and wriggled, and Varley boosted so energetically that at last -the explorer shot through the opening and into the dimness of the room -beyond. He was up in a minute and stretching out a hand to his ally, -who lost no time in climbing after him. - -“Whew! What faded-out air!” gasped the Shark. - -“Yes; it’s all of that!” Varley agreed. - -Indeed, the room was close and stuffy, as rooms long closed are likely -to be. But it was a dry, if musty, closeness, a deal better than the -wetness of out-of-doors. The Shark shook himself again. - -“Gorry! Say, but this beats the other thing,” he declared. “Bet you -that window hasn’t been open, though, in ten years; though the folks -seem to have kept a lot of furniture here.” - -Varley peered into the shadows. He could make out the shapes of a -settle and a table, and something he took to be an ancient chest of -drawers. Also he was quite sure there was a fireplace. Cold and black -as it was, it drew him like a magnet. He started across the room, and -now the Shark followed instead of led. - -“Now look--I’ve the luck to have a box of matches along,” said he. “If -we can find something to burn we----” - -There he broke off, as Varley uttered a startled exclamation. - -Beneath the feet of the explorers was an ominous creak. It turned -swiftly to the grating sound of breaking wood. The floor sagged; the -old boards parted. The boys, clawing vainly for support, shot down -through the aperture into a cellar, which was like a pit for blackness. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV THE HUNT - - -“I tell you, it’s the only way. Don’t you suppose I’ve figured and -figured on what to do? Well, I have; and there’s just one answer. I -can’t dodge it, and I won’t try. I’ve got to pay up, and I will pay -up--somehow.” - -Poke said it bravely enough and determinedly--all except the last word. -The “somehow” came after a little pause, and dragged at that. - -“But you can’t!” blurted the Trojan. “You’ve just told us you couldn’t -raise the money.” - -Poke had his back against the wall of the sugar camp; literally and -figuratively he was like one making a last stand. - -“But I’ve got to raise it--somehow.” Again there was the brief pause; -again there was a catch in his voice. “I’m responsible; I smashed that -vase. I didn’t mean to smash it, but that makes no difference.” - -“Umph! I’m not so sure of that,” objected the Trojan. - -“That’s what I say, too,” Step put in. “Seems as if there ought to be -some way----” - -“What! To wriggle out of it?” Poke demanded indignantly. - -“Why--why--I--I wouldn’t exactly----” - -“It’s what you meant, all the same.” - -“No; ’tisn’t!” Step insisted. - -“Well, then, what did you mean?” - -“Why, I--well, it’s sort of hard to put into words, but----” - -“Yes; I guess it is hard,” Poke interrupted. - -Then Sam Parker stepped forward. He had not been taking a very active -part in the discussion, but had been listening intently. - -“Hold on, fellows!” said he. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. I suppose -we had to talk this thing out, but now we’ve done it. All hands know -what’s happened to Poke and why he’s so down in the mouth. We’re sorry -for him, every one of us, but there’s no use crying over spilt milk or -broken vases; and so----” - -“Hey! Who’s crying?” Poke protested. - -“Oh, that’s just a figure of speech,” said Sam. “Forget it, Poke! -Let’s get down to business, everybody. Now, I’m not so all-fired sure -Poke really ought to pay all that money. The vase ought to have been -in a safer place, if it was so valuable. And I think that’s Varley’s -notion, too; and he’s sort of posted, as you might say, about a lot of -things.” - -“Oh, Varley!” exclaimed Poke, and glanced about him a little -apprehensively. - -“Varley’s out of the way,” Sam went on. “I guess he understood the club -would want a chance to hold a council of war, for he could see that -something had gone wrong, even if he didn’t know just what it was.” - -“The Shark’s missing, too,” Herman Boyd remarked. - -Sam nodded. “So he is. Probably they’ve strolled off together. That’s -all right, though. The Shark will stand for anything the rest of us -decide to do. It’s a job for all the club, of course, and----” - -“How do you make that out?” Poke asked. - -“Easily enough. You broke the vase--that’s true. But you wouldn’t have -broken it, for you wouldn’t have been at the hotel or giving a dinner -if it hadn’t been that you wanted to square the club’s account with -Varley.” - -“Now you’re talking sense, Sam!” cried the Trojan. - -“I know I am. And it’s only sensible for us to treat this thing as -hitting the whole club.... That’s all right, Poke! You can say it -hit you first, but we feel it hit us afterward. So we ought to pull -together, and we will. Now if we all chip in----” - -“I can put in ten dollars,” said Tom Orkney promptly. - -“Gee! Wish I could do as well!” cried Herman Boyd. “Maybe, though, I -can scrape together five or six dollars. I’ve sort of run ahead of my -allowance, or I’d promise more.” - -“I’m in the same box with Herman,” the Trojan declared. - -Step coughed uneasily. As the especial crony of Poke, he really should -be taking a leading part in these measures of financial relief. - -“Ahem, ahem! I--I--er--er--course you fellows know where I stand. And -I’d give my eye-teeth to help Poke out of the scrape. But it just -happens I’m awfully short of cash. But I tell you what I’ll do: I’ll -subscribe as much as the next fellow, and I’ll put it in, if only I can -borrow it somewhere.” - -“All right,” said Sam hastily, and shook his head warningly at the -Trojan who was beginning to grin. - -Again Step cleared his throat. “Ahem! Poke’s folks don’t want to hear -about this, you understand--that is, we don’t want ’em to hear about -it. You see, what with one thing and another lately--well, things have -been breaking mighty badly for Poke at the house--things that weren’t -really his fault, if you’d look at ’em right, but that just kept piling -up on him. And so--well, this isn’t any time for more bad news to -arrive.” - -“I should say not!” groaned Poke soulfully. - -Sam had been doing some mental arithmetic. “Look here, everybody! With -what I can chip in, and what the Shark’ll do, I feel sure we can raise -sixty or seventy dollars. That ought to be enough for sort of a first -payment.” - -“But I ought to make the payment,” Poke insisted. - -“You can’t,” Sam told him bluntly. “That’s why we’re going to help you. -And we’ll gain a little time for you to look around and scheme out ways -to get the rest of the money.” - -In spite of this prospect of problems to come the face of Poke -brightened a trifle. But it quickly clouded again. - -“Oh, I say, you fellows!” Poke said sharply. “I’m ready to take help -from any of you, or from all of you--as a loan, of course; I’ll pay you -back--but Varley must be kept out of this! It--it isn’t his funeral.” - -“Right-o!” Sam agreed. - -“No; this is our party--he’s an outsider!” chimed in the Trojan. - -The others nodded approval. Here was a matter purely for the Safety -First Club. - -“Then we’ll call so much settled,” quoth Sam. “But, talking about -Varley, where is he?” He peered hard at the grove of maples, and turned -again to his companions. “I haven’t a notion where he can be, or the -Shark, either.” - -“Oh, I guess they’ll turn up soon enough,” said Step. “Nowhere else for -them to go, is there?” - -“Not in this rain.” - -“Rain!” The Trojan caught at the word. “Rain! Sam, you’ve said it! It’s -coming down, good and plenty. And ain’t it funny we were all so busy -with Poke’s affairs that we didn’t notice it?” - -This was quite true. So absorbed had the club been that no heed had -been paid by any of the boys to the steady increase in the rain. - -Again Sam glanced about. “I don’t believe we ought to stay here any -longer. It’s going to be a job to get back to town, and we ought to be -making a start.” - -As if in answer to a call, Mr. Grant came out of the camp. - -“Whew! but this is getting to be a reg’lar wet spell,” he remarked. -“And I don’t see any signs of a let-up. Too bad you boys should strike -such a day to visit Sugar Valley!” - -“We’re sorry, too, sir,” Sam assured him. - -Mr. Grant looked the group over. “Let’s see! All here, are you?... No; -must be two-three missing. What’s become of that little chap with the -glasses and the other fellow who wanted to know all about sugar making?” - -“They must have gone back, sir.” - -“Umph! Don’t know but they did the sensible thing. I hadn’t realized -how it was getting to rain.” - -“We didn’t notice, either. And as for Varley and the Shark--that’s our -nickname for the fellow with the glasses, you know--I suppose they must -have started for the house?” - -Sam made his statement more than half a question. Mr. Grant treated it -as one. - -“Yes, I guess they must have. They’d looked around here, and there -ain’t much to see except the camp. Yes; I dare say they’re toasting -their shins by the fire this minute. And I reckon we might as well -follow ’em.” - -Nobody was disposed to delay; nor, for that matter, was there any -lingering on the way to the farmhouse. Heads bowed to the storm, -collars turned high, hands buried in pockets, the party splashed across -the fields with Mr. Grant in the lead. - -Mrs. Grant was ready to receive them. She took absolute command the -moment they entered the door. - -“Get out of your wet things this instant, every one of you!” she -ordered. “Hannah, you take the overcoats and hang ’em up by the kitchen -stove. And you boys, you get over by the living-room fire. Mercy me! -but you’re as sopping wet as our old cat was the day he fell into the -cistern. And don’t be afraid to take off your shoes and dry ’em--wet -feet’s the worst thing that can happen; and I’m not going to have your -mothers think I let company manners help give you all colds. Yes, and -don’t be bashful about pulling off your socks if the water got through -to ’em. And Hannah, oh, Hannah! Run up-stairs and bring down some of -Mr. Grant’s socks--bring enough to go ’round. They’ll be a mite roomy, -maybe, but that won’t matter. And bring along all the slippers you -happen to see.... Eh, eh? What’s that, now?” Sam had put a somewhat -anxious inquiry when the lady paused an instant for breath. “The -others, you say? Aren’t they here? No, they’re not. But which ones do -you mean? Let’s see! Let me take tally.... Oh, I see now. You mean -that queer little one I thought was looking for dust on the map, and -the other boy--the nice, polite one--not that you aren’t all polite, of -course!” she concluded hastily. - -Sam’s face lengthened. “We missed them,” he explained, “but supposed, -of course, they’d started back together.” - -Mrs. Grant shook her head vigorously. “If they started, they didn’t -get here. And that’s funny, too; for how could they miss the path? But -don’t you worry! They’ll come straggling in pretty soon, I warrant you. -And they couldn’t come to much harm anywhere in Sugar Valley. So just -you sit down and make yourself comfortable while you wait for ’em.” And -she gave Sam a friendly push toward the fire. - -Sam drew his chair close to the hearth, where most of the other -boys already had taken their places. Both the light and warmth from -the blazing logs were cheering, and the spirits of the party were -improving rapidly. Thanks to heavy outer jackets, and high overshoes, -they had come through their experience better than anybody unused -to rough weather outfits might have supposed to be possible; but it -was comforting, nevertheless, to toast for a little before the fire. -Then Mrs. Grant, who had her own theories as to the wants and tastes -of boys, brought in a huge dish of doughnuts and another of crullers, -while Hannah bore a great pitcher of lemonade. - -“Just a snack, you know,” the hostess declared. “A bite or two to tide -you over and take away that tired feeling.” - -In view of the tremendous dinner, this luncheon might have been thought -a little premature, but every member of the Safety First Club then -present helped himself to a doughnut or cruller, and did this most -willingly. Poke, in spite of his sorrows, especially distinguished -himself; but even Sam was no laggard in performance. Still, his sense -of responsibility for all of the party wasn’t dulled. - -The rain was falling more heavily than ever--of this he could be sure -from its beating on the windows. Mrs. Grant, too, was observant of the -weather. - -“Boys,” she declared, “you can’t drive back to town this afternoon in -that open sleigh. Why, you’d be drowned out! I just won’t let you go. -Be no trouble to take care of you over night. My, but this old house -has room enough for as many more, and then a few extras.” - -“Thank you, ma’am, but I think we’d better go back,” said Sam. - -“Fiddlesticks and fiddledeedee! ’Twon’t make a mite of bother to us to -keep you over night. And I vow I just thought of it! I want you to stay -and try Hannah’s waffles for breakfast--waffles with maple syrup, of -course.” - -At that Poke sighed, audibly and longingly. Step grinned, and the -Trojan laughed outright. Sam, though, was serious. - -“We really ought to be starting. If only those other fellows were -here---- But how does it look, Lon? Any signs of clearing up?” - -Lon, who had just returned from a weather observation from the porch, -shook his head. - -“No; closin’ in thicker’n ever. And rainin’ to beat the cars!” - -“What did I tell you!” cried Mrs. Grant triumphantly. “Of course you’ll -stay here all night. The traveling now would be awful.” - -“Wal, ma’am, that depends on what you’re used to,” Lon remarked -calmly. “Old Noah, now, he might say this was jest layin’ the dust -nice and comfortable. Or a hornpout might call it pretty fair goin’. -But for folks that ain’t had sich advantages of experience or nat’ral -capacity--wal, I guess it’s safe to figger they would call the -travelin’ jest about awful, as you was sayin’, ma’am.” - -“But we ought to go back,” Sam insisted. - -“Yes; I reckon we ought,” Lon agreed, but with no heartiness. - -“Nonsense!” declared Mrs. Grant. - -Sam went to a window, and peered out. He saw nothing to cheer him, and -turned back, with an anxious frown on his face. - -“What in the world can be keeping Varley and the Shark? And where can -they have strayed?” - -“Oh, they ought to be along presently,” Mrs. Grant comforted. “Two -able-bodied, wide-awake boys won’t come to harm in Sugar Valley.” - -“No, ma’am,” said Sam mechanically, but his expression of anxiety did -not lessen. The afternoon was wearing away. In an hour or two more the -light, not too strong now, would be fading; and the night promised to -be as black as one’s hat. And, meanwhile, the Shark and Varley ought to -be turning up! - -“They won’t come to harm,” Mrs. Grant repeated emphatically. “But, all -the same, they ought to be here. Just wait a minute, though.” - -Out of the room she hurried, and, presently, there was the call of a -telephone bell from the hall. Sam impatiently awaited the results. -There was a considerable delay. Evidently Mrs. Grant was talking with -more than one of her neighbors over the wire. - -When she came back to the living-room, her expression bore a trace of -perplexity. - -“I do declare, but it’s amazing queer! Nobody, up the road or down, has -seen anything, or heard anything, of those two boys. And I did suppose -that they’d put in somewhere, to wait for a let-up in the rain. But -everybody along here is on the line, and I’ve called ’em all, and -nothing comes of it.” - -Sam glanced at his watch. “I’m afraid something’s gone wrong,” he said. -“Varley’s sort of a tenderfoot, and the Shark--well, he’s posted well -enough, but he’s as likely as not to get to figuring on something, and -then how can you tell what he’d do, or not do?” - -Step spoke sharply. “Say, there’s the river! It must be high, and if -either or both of them fell in----” - -He had no need to finish the sentence. Mrs. Grant uttered an -exclamation; the boys moved uneasily; even Lon seemed to be impressed -by the suggestion. - -“Great Scott, but we’d ought to thought o’ that sooner! Any boys is -footless, sometimes, and if you’d tried to pair up a queer mated -couple, you couldn’t ’a’ picked a more uncertain combination o’ -performers than the Shark and that Varley lad’d make.” - -“That--that’s so, Lon,” Sam agreed heavily. - -Mrs. Grant took the floor again. “Don’t get flustered! I’ve got an -idea. Wait, everybody, till I see how it can be worked.” - -Once more she hurried into the hall, and again there were sounds to -indicate that she was busy at the telephone. Ten minutes passed--and to -Sam they seemed to be very dragging minutes--before she returned, and -addressed him. - -“Well, I’ve made a good beginning on the idea, all right. I’ve called -up your folks in town, young man, and I’ve had a talk with your mother. -She understood things--I knew she would, for I guess she’s a good, -sensible woman, seeing the sort of son she’s got. And she saw at once -what an awful trip back you’d have. And she said I could keep you over -night, and she’d call up all the other mothers and let ’em know you -were all right. And so that part of it’s fixed. Now we come to the next -part. You’re so uneasy about those strayaways that you’d be hopping -around like corn in a popper if you couldn’t go hunting ’em. And I -guess I’d be hopping, too, if you weren’t trying to find ’em. For they -ought to have shown up long ago. And with Mr. Grant to help, and the -hired man--why, we ought to be able to know something mighty quick. So, -if that’s your idea, too, and if you’re ready----” - -“If!” Sam shouted, and sprang to his feet. “If? Why, ma’am, I’ve been -aching to go for the last hour!” - -“Well, I guess you ain’t lonesome in that,” said Mrs. Grant briskly. - -The other boys, and Lon and Mr. Grant, for that matter, had risen -almost as quickly as Sam himself. - -Mrs. Grant looked the group over, and nodded approvingly. - -“No; there ain’t a lagger in the lot,” she said with conviction. “And -there’s just one thing I don’t like about it; and that is that Hannah -and I can’t go along with you.” - - - - -CHAPTER XV THE HOUSE OF REFUGE - - -Paul Varley was sorely shaken by his plunge into the depths of the -ancient cellar. He struck its floor so heavily, indeed, that the breath -seemed to be driven from his body. - -For a little he lay, motionless and half stunned. Then, his brain -clearing, and, be it said, his general sense of numbness giving place -to a number of distinct aches and pangs, he groaned, raised himself on -an elbow, sat up, and tried to peer about him. - -The movements had accentuated the pains. Paul groaned again. Even at -that moment, though, the greatest of his troubles was the gloom in -which he found himself. - -Except for the pale patch of light above his head, indicating the -break in the flooring of the room he had first entered, everything -was in darkness; not an even darkness, but patchy, lumpy, with weird -suggestions of shadowy and grotesque shapes. - -Experimentally Paul drew up a knee, and found that the joint was -in working order. He stretched out his arms. One of them was lame -and sore, but he appeared to have escaped broken bones. Encouraged -slightly, he tested his other leg, closing the test with a vigorous -kick. His foot encountered an obstacle, and a voice spoke in the -darkness. - -“Hi there! What do you think you’re doing?” - -It was a startled voice, and a wrathful voice. The sound of it gave -Paul an instant of dazed bewilderment. His wits were working, but -he hadn’t recalled the circumstance that he was not alone in his -misadventure. - -“Oh!” he gasped. “Oh--oh, you’re there, then?” - -“Naturally!” The Shark’s tone was no milder than before. - -“And--and are you hurt?” - -“Huh! What do you suppose?” - -“But--but are you?” - -“There are some statements,” said the Shark grimly, “which should not -need to be made. That’s one of ’em.” - -“I’m mighty sorry. I--I ought to have known.” - -The contrition in Varley’s tone had its effect. - -“Huh!” grunted the Shark, but less aggressively. “Huh! Certain causes -are bound to produce certain results. I’m hurt--yes. I’m all banged up. -But thank the stars! the worst didn’t happen. I haven’t broken ’em.” - -“Your legs, you mean?” - -“No; my glasses!” snapped the Shark. “I’m like a bat if anything -happens to them.” - -“I understand. But how about the rest of you--the legs and arms, I -mean?” - -There was a brief pause, as if the Shark might be taking account of -stock, so to speak. - -“Well, I’m lame in one foot or ankle--can’t be sure which,” he -reported. “And I’m sore in one shoulder--must have landed on it. -Otherwise, though, I guess I’m all right. I--ugh! Say, that hurt!” - -By hearing rather than by sight Varley knew that the Shark was -getting upon his feet. He followed the example; also he imitated the -exclamation. - -“Ouch! Whew! Say, I’ve got my troubles, too.” - -There was a moment’s silence; then Varley spoke again: - -“It’s queer--I don’t know what’s the matter, but I--I’m sort of dizzy, -and--and choking, and--and----” - -“It’s getting me, too,” the Shark agreed. “Hold on, though! I’ve got an -idea.” - -There was the faint click of the catch of a metal match-box. Then a -tiny flame showed. By its feeble light Varley made out what were the -vague shapes that had seemed like heavier shadows, piles of old barrels -and boxes, the usual accumulation of odds and ends in a cellar. Then -the sickly flame died down. - -“Humph! That’s it, fast enough,” said the Shark. “Bad air--like the -air in a well or a cave that’s been closed up. Match won’t burn in it. -Guess we’d better get out.” - -Varley was beginning to have difficulty in breathing. - -“Great Scott, but I--I never was in such a place!” he panted. “So -close--so stuffy--so sour--so--so----” - -“Sure! Bet you there hasn’t been a window or door of this cellar opened -in my time or yours. And not nearly enough air’d seep in to keep it -sweet. And as for getting out--well, I guess we’d best go the way we -came.” - -With that he put his hands above his head, and groped for the edge of -the broken flooring. Luckily, the ancient cellar was not deep. The -Shark failed to get a grip, but Varley, who was taller, succeeded where -he failed. - -“Give me a leg up,” Paul directed, and the Shark obeyed. The effort -was painful. Plucky fellow though he was, he couldn’t quite repress -a groan. Varley uttered another, and another, as he raised himself; -bettered his hold on the ragged ends of the boards; found them fragile -as well as ragged; tore away fragments of the rotten wood; gained the -stouter support of a beam, which appeared still to be sound; called -upon the Shark for renewed and redoubled effort; exerted all his waning -strength, and, at last, slowly and with difficulty, drew his body to -the comparative safety of the floor. - -Apparently most of the remaining boards were still sound enough to -support his weight, though they creaked dismally, while he bent down -and extended a helping hand to the Shark. - -It was a fortunate thing for the young adventurers that the Shark was -light. Varley, as it was, found his work cut out for him, especially -as both he and his companion still felt the effects of the foul air of -the cellar. By dint of their utmost joint endeavors the Shark finally -half climbed, half was dragged, through the opening. Then he tried -to struggle to his knees, but pitched forward and lay helpless and -exhausted. Varley, in almost as grievous plight, laid hold upon his -collar and began to drag him toward the window. - -Experiences were crowding thick and fast upon the city youth, but he -was rising to the emergency and proving the mettle that was in him. -It was a hard task, desperately hard, to cover the few feet which lay -between the gap in the floor and the wall. Varley gritted his teeth, -and pulled and tugged at the Shark, and gained inch by inch. But when -the window had been reached, he slumped upon the floor beside his -comrade, and lay there, panting heavily. - -Luckily the sash was still raised, and through the opening the fresh, -damp air was pouring into the room. The Shark was the first to show -its revivifying effects. He moved, lifted himself on an elbow. Varley, -after a little, raised his head. The eyes of the two met. - -The Shark nodded solemnly. “Much obliged. Good work. You’re all right. -I won’t forget it.” His voice was faint, but there was more than a hint -of his usual crisp speech. - -With some difficulty Paul sat up. So did the Shark. There was a long -pause, each regarding the other steadily. Suddenly Varley spoke: - -“We’re lucky--to get out of that.” He jerked his head in the direction -of the yawning hole in the floor. - -“Sure!” responded the Shark. “You see how it was? Cellar’s been shut up -tight, so the air goes bad. Read about such things. Knew something was -happening to us, but it needed the way the match failed to burn to give -me a hint of what it was.” - -“I understand. But--but what next?” - -Cautiously and with a manner of not being over-sure of himself, the -Shark stood up. He peered out of the window, and shook his head. - -“Worse than it was,” he made report. “Raining harder than ever. And -say! I’m pretty wet.” - -Varley, too, got upon his feet. A glance through the dingy panes -sufficed. The Shark had not exaggerated the weather conditions outside. - -“Well, what ought we to do?” Paul inquired. “Pile out into it?” - -The Shark shook his head decidedly. “No; not just yet. I’m too nearly -all in. Got to have a chance to pull myself together and get my second -wind.” - -Varley shivered. “This--this is a pretty tough place to stay.” - -“We can help things a lot.” - -“How?” Paul asked incredulously. - -“There’s a fireplace yonder. We have matches. There’s a lot of dry -stuff we can burn.” - -“Yes, but----” - -“There’s no ‘but’ about it. We’ve got a roof over our heads. We can -have a fire. We will have one, and we’ll dry off, while we wait a while -to see if the weather doesn’t change.” - -“But the rest of the crowd? They’ll be wanting to start back to town.” - -“They won’t start in an open sleigh in such a downpour.” - -“But they won’t know where we are.” - -“Huh! We don’t know just where they are this minute, either.” - -Paul hesitated. “Why--why, if we could get word to ’em----” - -Plainly, the Shark was rapidly becoming himself again, for he grunted -scornfully. “Ugh! No telephone, no message. That’s all there is to it. -May as well take things as they are and make the best of ’em.” - -“Well, I suppose that’s so,” Paul admitted, ruefully. Making the best -of a long deserted house did not appear to him to offer much of promise. - -The Shark limped back to the break in the floor. He moved with caution, -and came to no harm. Apparently the floor was in fair condition except -at the spot where it had given way beneath their weight. The Shark -offered an explanation: - -“Umph! Must have been a patch of dry-rot, and we struck it. Happens -that way sometimes--don’t know the reason. But they built for keeps, -the old fellows did, and this old shack’ll stand nobody knows how much -longer. Now let’s see what we can do for kindling.” - -Bending down, he laid hold upon one of the fractured boards. The wood -yielded to the pull, and he ripped off a piece a foot or more in length -and two or three inches across. A second tug yielded a slightly smaller -piece. - -Varley was observing the proceedings wonderingly. - -“You don’t mean to say, do you, that you can make a fire with that -stuff?” he asked. - -“I can start one,” quoth the Shark. “Got to get something else to keep -her going.” - -“Where can you get it?” - -The Shark nodded at the hole in the floor. “Down there. Lot of junk -lying around. Saw it while the match was flickering.” - -Varley’s face lengthened. “What! You’d risk it in that cellar again?” - -“I’d risk more than that for a fire. Need it in my business, and need -it quick.” - -“Well, you’re not going down there,” said Varley with decision. - -The Shark peered at him. “Huh? I’m not? How you make that out?” - -“Because I’m going down. Look here! Whoever goes ought not to stay -there long. It’ll be a case of grabbing up stuff that’ll burn and -passing it up to the other fellow. Now, I’ve got longer arms and legs -than you have. I can reach farther. When it comes to getting out, I can -get a grip on the floor, and you can lend a hand from above. The air -below won’t be good, but it’ll be no worse than it was before. Maybe -it’ll be a little better--perhaps some fresh air will leak down through -the hole. But I can work the trick, and I can work it better than you -could, because I’m better built for it.” - -The Shark paused in the operation of splitting one of the pieces of -board. He blinked at Varley for a moment. - -“Hanged if I thought you had it in you!” he said frankly. “Oh, I don’t -mean the courage--that’s common enough. I mean the gumption--the -head-piece--the sense to figure it out. What you say’s all true; you’re -better built for the job. So you may do it. And--well, you might as -well go to it.” - -Varley needed no urging. He lowered himself through the opening, and -dropped to the floor of the cellar. The Shark struck another of his -precious matches, and held it like a tiny torch to guide the forager. -There was draft enough to make it flicker wildly, but the same air -currents did Varley a good turn. - -[Illustration: ANOTHER OF HIS PRECIOUS MATCHES] - -He told himself that there was a perceptible freshening of the -atmosphere in the old cellar. The place certainly was still one in -which he would not have cared to linger, but as he scrambled to a pile -of rubbish, and caught up an armful, his breathing, though quickened, -was not difficult. What he collected he could no more than guess, for -the match flame hardly lightened the shadows. By feeling rather than by -sight he knew that it was wood upon which he laid hands. Then the Shark -had caught the load, and Varley was back for another, which followed -the first through the opening. Then down shot the Shark’s arm, and a -hand closed on Paul’s collar. - -“That’s enough to begin with. You come up--while the coming’s good!” - -The Shark’s tone was gruff, but, somehow, Varley knew there was -approval in it. With right good will he obeyed the order; and with the -other’s aid he was soon back in the room. His hands were bleeding from -sliver wounds, and his clothes were torn, but his spirits were rising -rapidly. - -“Huh! Good work!” grunted the Shark. “Stuff’ll burn.” - -Varley glanced at his plunder. It included barrel staves, broken -for the most part; short lengths of board; a stick or two of split -fire-wood; all coated with dust and cobwebs, which had accumulated in -the course of many years. - -“Sure it’ll burn,” he declared. “It ought to be as dry as tinder.” - -The Shark knelt by the hearth and made a little pyramid of shavings, -topped with bits of board. Then he struck another match; the shavings -ignited; a yellow flame showed, and above it rose a curl of smoke. - -Deftly the Shark brought forward more wood, and added it to the pile. -The flames spread, and so, for that matter, did the smoke, which -belched from the fireplace into the room. - -“Got--got to wait for the chimney to warm,” gasped the Shark. “Always -the way.... Whew! but that was a smotherer!” - -A cloud of smoke had driven fairly in his face. Coughing, he retreated, -until he could clear his lungs. Then he came back valorously and played -stoker. - -The fire began to burn more vigorously, and the flue to do its -appointed part. There was less smoke, and more light in the room. -Varley made his first deliberate inspection of their refuge. - -The ceiling was very low; he could touch it by raising his hand. The -walls were grimy and spotted. Big beams showed at the corners. The -fireplace was a rough, but substantial, affair, smoke blackened. The -pieces of furniture he had noticed on first entering were decrepit with -age. The table lacked a leg; the settle sagged at one end; the chest of -drawers was a ruin. - -The Shark was taking off his overcoat, and unbuckling his high -overshoes. From both shoes and coat steam was rising as they caught the -heat from the fire. - -Varley followed his companion’s example. As he removed his shoes, he -whistled softly. The guaranteed waterproofing had not been up to the -requirements of such a test as it had undergone. - -The Shark sat down on the floor; so did Varley. Each clasped his hands -about his knees, and stared at the fire. It was crackling merrily, but -not loudly enough to drown the sounds of the rain dashing against the -old house. - -There was a long pause before either spoke. Then said Varley, -ruminatively: - -“I guess you were right--a fire does help things a lot. I shouldn’t -have thought of it. Still, this is a new game for me, this knocking -about in the wilds; and it’s an old story for you.” - -“Not so very old,” corrected the Shark. “Had a taste of it while ago, -up in the big woods. Time our crowd got caught in a blizzard we found -an old shack, and took possession. And the first thing we did was to -start a fire. And maybe we didn’t need it! Cold? It was! How cold? Huh! -Some of the fellows were talking about thirty below. No thermometer -along, though--pity! Man ought to travel equipped for taking notes. And -a good, registered thermometer’d be a great comfort. So’d a barometer, -eh?” - -“Why--why, very likely.” - -The Shark shook his head. “Trouble is, folks don’t realize the need of -precision. They’ll make a guess at the temperature, and let it go at -that. Bah!” - -Varley, not knowing what response to make, said nothing. - -The Shark resumed his staring at the fire. There was another pause, -even longer than that which had gone before. Varley at last pulled out -his watch, and uttered an exclamation of vexation. - -“Thunder! The thing’s stopped--must have been caused by that fall. What -time do you suppose it is?” - -“Don’t know. Left my watch at home to-day,” said the Shark. - -Varley sprang up--then groaned at the pangs he suffered as the result -of his incautious haste of movement. He looked out of the window, his -face lengthening. - -“Cracky! but it’s getting mighty dark! And the rain’s fairly coming -down in buckets. I can’t see any distance. But unless I’m amazingly -mistaken--say, look here, will you?” - -The Shark joined him. - -“What’s that out there? Looks like a regular lake!” Paul cried. - -The Shark made deliberate inspection. Close to the old house was now an -expanse of water, probably not very deep, but certainly of considerable -area. - -“Back-water!” was the Shark’s verdict. - -“Back-water?” Paul repeated doubtfully. - -“From the river. It’s over its bank at some low spot, and the water has -spread out. It fills up the low places, of course, and this house seems -to stand on a little rise. Very likely we’re surrounded.” - -“Cut off, you mean?” - -“Not if we want to wade out.” - -“Oh! Wade?” Varley did not look happy at the prospect. - -The Shark studied the scene--so far as it could be made out in the dim -light. - -“Umph! Must be getting late,” he remarked coolly. “Don’t know that a -wading job would be any wetter than a walk. Still, would either pay? -We’re all right here. There’s more wood for the fire to be had down -cellar.... Um, u-m-m! Maybe it’d be wisest to let well enough alone.” - -“And stay here?” - -“Sure! For a while, anyway, till the rain lessens, and that pond has a -chance to drain off.” - -“But will it drain off?” - -The Shark shrugged his shoulders. “Nobody knows.” - -Varley deliberated for a moment. “But how about the rest of the crowd? -What’ll they be thinking?” - -“Don’t know. I’m no mind reader.” - -“But----” - -“But what can we do about it?” the Shark broke in. “We can wade out of -this and be like two drowned rats for wetness, or we can stay here.” - -“All night?” - -“If necessary. Nothing to hurt us, is there?” - -“No,” said Paul reluctantly. “But I wish we--well, I wish we could get -word to the others.” - -The Shark grunted. Then he limped to the fireplace and gave the fire a -poke with a stick. Flames shot higher, illuminating the room. - -“This suits me better than what’s waiting for us outside,” he said, and -dropped to his old place on the floor. - -Paul joined him. - -“Whew!” said the city youth, after a little. “Tell you, I never knew -before what a comfort a fire could be!” - - - - -CHAPTER XVI BLIND TRAILS - - -From closets and sheds and attics Mrs. Grant produced an amazing supply -of rubber coats and boots, oilskins and sou’westers. - -“Here, now, boys, fit yourselves out,” she directed. “Or, if you can’t -fit yourselves, come the nearest you can. Most of these things Mr. -Grant has used one time or another, but they’ll turn water more or -less. And looks won’t count--there’ll be nobody to see you. And you’ll -find the other boys, of course, and when you do, bring ’em right here. -And then we’ll have a good, hot supper, and everybody’ll feel better.” - -This was spoken bravely enough; but it was clear that Mrs. Grant was -worried, if not greatly alarmed, by the absence of Varley and the -Shark. Sam and his friends made haste to equip themselves. In two or -three cases high overshoes were esteemed sufficient protection for the -feet, but the other boys were glad to turn to boots. Every boy found -something in the shape of a rain-coat; for the downpour out-of-doors -made all possible covering desirable. Some of the garments were -grotesquely large for the wearers, but nobody made a joke of this. -In fact, the club was quite of opinion that real work lay before the -searchers. - -Sam noticed that while Mr. Grant sent a farm-hand to the barn with -orders to harness a horse, the farmer himself proposed to accompany the -party on foot. There was a little consultation on the porch. - -“We ought to scatter, of course,” Mr. Grant declared. “Some can scout -up the road, and some down. Others can strike across lots to the sugar -camp and spread out from there. Then, if need be, I can send down to -the foot of the valley for news. A rig’ll be ready to go.” - -Nobody made answer for a moment. A trip to the foot of the valley would -mean that there was reason to believe the Shark and Varley had fallen -into the river and been carried down-stream. - -“I--I hope that won’t be necessary,” Sam said at last, unsteadily. - -“I don’t think it will be,” Mr. Grant encouraged. “I’ve been figuring -on this business, and it seems to me the chances are that those -youngsters strayed away from the camp, lost their bearings, and when -the rain increased took to any shelter they could find. With the -weather as thick as it is, it wouldn’t be hard for them to miss their -way. Of course, if they kept their heads, they’d steer for higher -ground, knowing that sooner or later they’d come to a road. But boys -will be boys--and there’s the river, of course. We can’t forget that.” - -Sam nodded. “We’re not forgetting it, sir. And as for keeping their -heads--well, one of those fellows is a stranger to all this sort of -thing, but the other’s as cool as they make ’em. That’s the part that -sets me worrying most: the Shark’s not likely to go wool-gathering -unless he gets interested in some of his calculations.” - -“He’d have trouble in finding a slate to do his ciphering out yonder.” - -“Oh, the Shark wouldn’t need slates or paper. His head’s good enough -for him. But--but don’t you think we’d better start, sir?” - -“Yes,” said Mr. Grant briskly. - -It was left to Sam, as the recognized leader of the club, to allot the -tasks. Poke and Step he told off to follow the road up the valley, with -instructions to make inquiries at each house on the way. The Trojan -and Herman Boyd were to scout down the road. Mr. Grant went with Lon, -Orkney and Sam himself to the sugar camp. - -The tramp across the fields gave plenty of evidences of the rapidity -with which the thaw was progressing. The lowlands were fairly afloat, -and the line of march led through pools, some of which were more than -ankle deep. - -Arriving at the camp, Sam shouted lustily, but there was no response. -Again heads were put together for a consultation. It resulted in a -scattering of the party through the maple grove, each of the searchers -looking for tracks in the melting snow. - -In this several difficulties were encountered. To begin with, Mr. Grant -and his helpers had been busy about the place for some days, and near -the building footprints were only too numerous. Then, too, the heavy -rain made it hard to tell fresh tracks from old. It was Lon Gates who -suggested an improvement in their method of search. - -“This ain’t gettin’ us nowhere, folks. We’re like fellers in one o’ -them mazes you read about, that’s jest a puzzle and bewilderment. Let’s -get out of it, and skirmish round the edges o’ things. If the boys -scooted off, they scooted somewhere; and we ought to be able to pick up -the trail where it ain’t all tangled up with half a dozen others and I -dunno how many more.” - -Following this suggestion, they made a circuit of the “Island.” It -revealed no less than four trails, any one of which might be the one -they sought. - -One led down the valley; two others toward the river; the fourth -headed up-stream. With the drive of the rain sharp outlines had been -obliterated. - -Lon studied the impressions closely. - -“I ain’t no Apache tracker, and I dunno’s it would help things much if -I was; but if you want my guess, it’s that more’n one feller went this -way.” He nodded at a trail leading toward the river. - -Mr. Grant inclined to believe that the down-valley trail was more -promising. The boys hesitated, frankly unable to form an intelligent -opinion. - -“Well, we can try both,” said the farmer. “I’ll take this chap”--he -nodded at Orkney--“and you two can go the other road.” - -Nobody else had a better plan to offer. Mr. Grant and Orkney plodded -off down the valley, and Lon and Sam headed for the river. - -For a little way the marks they followed were fairly plain. That is, it -was quite evident that one or more persons had passed that way, though -how long before was pure guesswork. Then, presently, they came to a -low, swampy tract; and here among hummocks and pools and dense patches -of bushes the trail lost itself. - -“No use, Sam!” Lon growled, as he stumbled over a root, and barely -escaped a fall. “If those two young idiots were steering for anything -in partic’lar, it’d be the river. Come on! We’ll try for a short cut.” - -With that he broke through the thicket, and Sam pressed after him. In -a few minutes more they were on the bank of the stream, peering eagerly -about them. - -So heavy was the pouring rain that it was hardly possible to make out -clearly the fringe of trees along the opposite side of the river. The -swift current was racing along, its surface dotted with masses of ice -and now and then a floating log. - -“Umph! Gettin’ up, Sam, gettin’ up this brook is!” quoth Lon. “And -somebody up-river’s losin’ his cord-wood. And I say now--jest look at -that, will ye?” - -Sam looked. He made out the object at which Lon was pointing, but at -first was uncertain what it might be. - -“Chicken coop,” Lon explained. “And that thing bobbin’ up and down -yonder’s a packin’ case, or I miss my guess. Bet you they’re havin’ -doin’s up above!” - -Sam was doing his best to master every feature of the scene; but most -of all he was seeking traces of his missing friends. - -“I can’t see anything--anything of the boys,” he complained. “I don’t -believe they came this way.” - -Lon grinned wrily. “Don’t see why they should ’a’ wanted to, if they -had the wits they was born with. And if we’ve got ours left, there -ain’t no jest cause and impediment why we shouldn’t move on.” - -“Which way?” - -Lon considered briefly. “My notion is we might as well go back to the -camp, and pick up another of the trails. There’s nothin’ to show that -those fellows strayed here. But what in time made ’em drift away from -the rest of the crowd, anyway?” - -Sam couldn’t offer reasonable explanation. Lon grunted: - -“Ugh! Been a boy myself, and had the benefit of your society, Sam, to -keep my hand in, but hanged if I can make out why boys’ll do things -that wouldn’t get a vote at an election in a lunatic asylum! But that -ain’t gettin’ us nowhere or nohow. Let’s go back!” - -They splashed through the puddles, plowed through the snow where it -still lay deep, broke a way through the swampy thickets. Both, it may -be, were in hopes of seeing Mr. Grant and Orkney at the camp, but -nobody was in sight near the building. - -Lon now turned attention to the trail leading up the valley. - -“I dunno’s this is more promisin’, but I can’t say it’s any less. Maybe -it’s fresher--must say, though, they all look a lot alike to me. And -when you don’t know anything about a thing, why----” - -“Hullo!” Sam broke in. “Here comes Orkney!” - -Tom was hurrying along at the best pace he could make in his big, -borrowed rubber boots. There was a look of anxiety on his face, but he -spoke quietly when he joined Sam and Lon. - -“Mr. Grant told me to look you up. No; I’ve no news--that is, we didn’t -find anything. But when we got a look at the river, Mr. Grant decided -he’d send his man down to the foot of the valley at once. So he made a -short cut for the house, and I started to hunt you up. I’ll work with -you.” - -“Then----” Sam began unsteadily. - -“Don’t jump to the conclusion that Mr. Grant thinks Varley and the -Shark have been carried down-stream. Only the river is a lot higher -than he expected to find it, and the current’s swifter. So he is going -to send his man down to the bridges. But he thought it might be well -for you to scout the other way. I’ll help. I suppose he’ll follow us -later.” - -“Umph! Can’t be much later if he means to ketch up with us before -dark,” Lon observed. - -There was point to the remark. The gloomy afternoon was shading into a -twilight which gave promise of a pitchy night to follow. The rain still -fell in undiminished volume. At any other time Sam might have laughed -at the picture made by his companions. Lon’s “slicker” and Tom’s heavy -mackintosh ran little streams in every wrinkle, while others dripped -briskly from the brims of their head-gear. - -“Come on!” Sam said impatiently. - -This time they were on the right trail, though, of course, none of the -three could know it. It was easily followed until it brought them to -the point on the river bank where Varley and the Shark had halted for a -time; but there they lost it. The drenched thickets hid footprints, and -the growing darkness was a steadily increasing handicap. - -Lon frowned in perplexity. “I swan, but I don’t like this!” he -declared. “This river’s practically bank full and sloppin’ over. Look -there!” He pointed to a little stream which was finding its way across -a low spot on the shore. “This is goin’ to be jest one big frog pond -before long, or I’ll eat my hat.” - -“Let’s go a little farther, anyway!” Sam urged. - -“With you there, Sam!” cried Lon readily enough. - -“Of course--only thing to do,” said Orkney curtly. - -They went on, following the bank. As a matter of fact, the footing -there was better than it was at a greater distance from the stream; -for here was one of the low-lying, swampy patches, which were actually -lower than the dike-like ridge along the river. At the best, though, -progress was slow. There were tangles of brush; there were gullies, now -turned into channels for the water; there were spots where the snow had -given place to a sticky and treacherous mire. - -Now and then one or the other of the searchers shouted lustily. It can -hardly be said that an answer was expected, but after each hail there -was a halt, in which the three strained their ears. Perhaps this was -because their eyes could pierce the gloom for but a little way. - -How far this slow and difficult march continued it would have been hard -for any of the little party to estimate. They might have covered a -mile; it might not be a half-mile. - -Lon, who was in the lead, suddenly pulled up. - -“Boys,” he said, “I hate to give up, but is there any use holdin’ on -longer? It’s gettin’ powerful dark; the rain’s wuss than ever; we -dunno but Varley and the Shark are this minute toastin’ their toes by -Mis’ Grant’s fire. Besides, we’ve got to have lanterns if we’re goin’ -to poke around this way. ’Tain’t altogether a question now of findin’ -somebody else; it’s gettin’ to be a question o’ keepin’ ourselves from -gettin’ lost. What say, Sam?” - -Sam hesitated, glancing at Orkney. What Lon had said was true enough. -Still, he was extremely reluctant to abandon or even to interrupt the -hunt. Orkney, too, appeared to be of this opinion, if Sam interpreted -rightly the look on his face. - -“Well, Lon,” Sam began doubtfully; “of course----” - -There he broke off, abruptly; clapped a hand to his ear; bent forward, -listening eagerly. - -“What’s that sound? Catch it? Something mighty queer about it.” - -Sam’s voice had been shaking with excitement. Orkney’s answer was not -free of the same note: - -“I hear it. I--I never heard anything else just like it. ’Tisn’t just -like a rustle, or a rumble, or--or I don’t know what to call it. But I -make it out fast enough!” - -“Umph! So do I--now,” said Lon sharply. - -The sound, by this time, was clearly to be distinguished from the -steady and monotonous beat of the rain, and from the grating of ice -floes in the river and the splash of waves on the bank. In a way it -suggested the approach of a heavy train--and a train coming on at high -speed. - -Lon’s arm shot out. His hand closed on Sam’s arm. - -“Come on!” he shouted to Orkney. “Hustle for all you’re wuth!” - -The boys were close behind him as he crashed through the bushes, -straight away from the river. They ran as for their lives, while the -rumbling sound grew in volume. They splashed through a pool, the water -of which came to their knees. They crossed a little ridge, waded -another small pond, gained higher ground. Here were some trees of -considerable size, and Lon paused an instant as if meditating taking -shelter among them. - -The rumbling now had grown to a roar, in which the other sounds of the -storm were lost. And whatever was causing it was drawing very near the -spot where the three stood. Lon peered hard up the valley, then turned -toward the trees. - -“May be a climbin’ job!” he sang out. “Look lively, both of you! What’s -comin’ is goin’ to be a-plenty, and it’s ’most here.” - -Sam, too, had been making swift observation, and his eye had caught -something which had escaped Lon’s vision. A patch of light, faint, -glimmering, half hidden by intervening branches--so much he made out. -Then it was his turn to shout, “Come on--quick!” He broke into a run, -and with Tom and Lon at his heels hurried toward the light, which, -feeble though it might be, was like a friendly beacon. - -The rumbling roar was thunderous as they burst into a clearing and -made out the dim mass of a building, from which the light glimmered. -Instinctively they dashed for the door. Lon tore desperately at the -boards which barred it, but Tom and Sam turned to the window. From the -lips of each burst an exclamation of amazement. - -By the light of the fire on the hearth they made out two figures. They -recognized the missing pair. Both Varley and the Shark appeared to have -been dozing on the floor, and just to have been awakened by the ominous -tumult without; for the one was starting to his feet, and the other, -on hands and knees, was peering dazedly through his spectacles at the -window. - -But this was a time for swift action and not for pause for inquiries. -Lon, abandoning the door, sprang to his companions. He caught Sam, and -swung him to the ledge of the window, which still luckily was open; -seized Tom and raised him to the same position of comparative safety. -Then as the boys dropped to the floor of the room, he climbed with all -speed after them. Sam, turning, laid hold on his arm, dragging him over -the ledge, just as the thunder seemed to be rolling all about them, -and just as a wave, palely crested with white foam, went swirling down -the valley, crashing viciously on the foundations of the old house and -rising to the top of the stout masonry. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII THE RISING FLOOD - - -There was the briefest of exchanges of greetings between the friends -thus unexpectedly reunited. - -“What on earth are you two doing here?” Sam demanded. “Haven’t you any -notion of the worry you’ve made for everybody?” - -“Huh! Mind where you’re going!” the Shark cautioned. “Hole in the -floor. We broke through. Rest of it’ll hold, I guess, but I wouldn’t -stamp hard.” - -Sam checked his advance in time. He glanced curiously at the fractured -boards, at which the Shark pointed. - -“Fell through, did you? Well, it looks as if you did. But I say! What -did you crawl in here for, anyway?” - -Before the Shark could answer, Lon spoke. He had remained at the -window, and was studying as best he might the swift tide pouring down -the valley. - -“Boys, one o’ them dams up-river must ’a’ gone out! That was the first -wave of the rush that ’most caught us. There’s a lot o’ water still -comin’ along, but ’tain’t quite’s high as ’twas. And so, lookin’ at -things by and large, I guess it was mighty lucky that we happened in -jest as we did. If nothin’ more gives way up above, we ain’t likely to -be any wuss off than we are now; and when things get kind o’ drained -off, as you might say, we can toddle on. Meanwhile”--here he turned and -glanced at the fire--“meanwhile, that heatin’ contraption looks amazin’ -good to me.” - -Varley threw on some more wood. Sam and Orkney, and then Lon, gingerly -skirted the hole in the floor and took their places at the edge of -the hearth. Lon stripped off his dripping rubber coat; Sam and Orkney -followed the example. The Shark watched these proceedings with a -certain grim approval, but suddenly his brow clouded. - -“See here, you fellows! You were hunting for us, as if you thought we -were lost?” - -It was half question, half accusation. Sam answered curtly: - -“We certainly thought you were.” - -“Huh!” The Shark’s tone was scornful. - -“If you had to wander off, why didn’t you go back to the Grants’ house?” - -“Had something better to do.” - -“Here?” - -The Shark hesitated. “Why--why, not exactly here. We were looking for -something. We found it. Then we happened to see this house. It was -raining pitchforks, and we decided to come in out of the wet, and wait -for a break. And being here, we made ourselves as comfortable as we -could. You’d have done the same thing, wouldn’t you?” - -“What did you suppose we’d think when you didn’t turn up?” - -“You ought to have known we could take care of ourselves.” - -Sam checked the hot retort that was on his lips. After all, “Safety -First” was a sound rule in the case of words as well as acts. A quarrel -would benefit nobody. - -“Well, Shark,” he said quietly, “we feared you might have met an -accident of some sort, and if you had, we wanted to help you.” - -“Course you would!” cried the Shark, at once mollified. “And we did -have an accident--little one, that is. Geeminy! if you’d seen us go -kerflop through the floor! Patch of boards just rotted out, and we had -the luck to strike it.” - -Sam’s eyes ranged the room. “Old-timer, this house,” he remarked. - -“It’s very old,” Varley put in. “We’ve tried to look it over, but it -was too dark to see much. Still, we could make out that evidently -nobody has lived here for years.” - -Lon, too, had been making observations. “Boys,” he said, “if I ain’t -way off the track, this is jest the plummest oldest house anywhere in -these parts. It’ll be the old Dominie Pike place, or I’m a hornpout!” - -“The Dominie Pike place?” Orkney echoed. - -“Yep. His house Mis’ Grant was tellin’ us about--the last one he built.” - -Orkney moved away from the fire. Very slowly he made a circuit of the -room, inspecting it with manifest interest, so far as the uncertain -light permitted. - -Sam went to the window. The rain was still falling heavily; water -surrounded the house, but the rapidity of the current appeared to have -lessened. As well as he could determine, the top of the foundation was -just above water. - -Meanwhile Lon was adding to the fire. He caught the eye of Sam, as the -latter turned back from the window, and winked meaningly. - -“Nothin’ like makin’ yourself to hum,” he remarked, “and that there -blaze does go to the right spot--no, to the right spots, by ginger! -for those clothes o’ mine must ’a’ been leakin’ all over. My notion -is, we’re mighty lucky to be right here this minute. Tell you a house -comes in mighty handy when you need one. By the way, Varley”--he paused -briefly--“by the way, I s’pose these boys told you how once this crowd -was amazin’ glad to put up at old Calleck’s shack.” - -“I’ve heard something about it,” said Paul, “but not the whole story.” - -Lon was grinning reminiscently. “Like this case it was, some -ways--other ways ’twa’n’t. Blizzard caught us that time, and now it’s -a flood. Both times, though, we needed fire and a roof--generally do -in these parts, ’less it may be for a month or so in summer. So old -Calleck’s ruin seemed mighty good to us. This house’s a reg’lar palace -’longside of it. But what’d you expect? Old Calleck was a queer coot, -that went away from other folks to build a place in the woods, while -Dominie Pike cleared his place in the woods to kind o’ encourage other -folks to come in and settle. And some folks do say this must be jest -the spot where the Dominie and the Indian had their big run-in. But -then likely’s not you’ve all heard that yarn.” - -“We haven’t!” - -“Tell us!” - -“Fire ahead!” - -Lon grinned again. No doubt he was well pleased to see his plan to draw -the boys’ thoughts from their plight bearing results. - -“Wal, way the story’s handed down’s about like this: The Dominie was -an explorer, and he worked in here ahead of the settlers. But for -all he knew the ways of the woods, he was plumb lost when he came to -Sugar Valley. And one reason he’d missed his bearin’s was that for -two-three days he’d been kinder bothered by a notion somebody was -doggin’ his track. Funny part was, he couldn’t be sure--that is, he -couldn’t get a squint at the critter he sensed was after him. And, -bein’ the man he was, the Dominie didn’t let the huntin’ go all on -one side. He turned to and hunted the hunter, which was what we’d -call a sporty proposition, but helped to mix him up. Course, if he -hadn’t been bothered, he could ’a’ found the road back; but bein’ a -lot bothered, he was as good as lost, for the time bein’. And so one -night he was bivouackin’ out in the open, right along here, I guess; -and bunkin’ close to a big tree and keepin’ one eye open and maybe -both ears listenin’--well, after a while, he was surer than ever that -t’other party was mighty clost. Now, the Dominie wasn’t the citizen to -make trouble walk its legs off comin’ to meet him. He started for the -half-way point or better, with his old flintlock primed and ready to do -business. There was a big moon, and when he came to a nat’ral meadow, -he could see ’most as plain as day. And all of a sudden he did see -something. An Injun was stealin’, stealthy like, out of the opposite -edge of the woods. Just as the brave cleared the cover, though, -something else shot like a growlin’ streak off the limb of a tree, and -in a jiffy there was the pootiest Injun-panther fight you ever heard of. - -“The Dominie’s gun jumped to his shoulder--that was what you’d call -instinctive, I guess. Then he run forward. Way things were, he didn’t -feel like wastin’ powder and ball--took time, remember, to charge up -them old shootin’ irons. Then something mighty queer happened. - -“The big cat was chain lightnin’, but that Injun wa’n’t so slow -himself. He’d half ducked the panther’s spring, though he’d caught a -clawin’ doin’ it; and the cat had overshot, as you might say, and was -crouchin’ for a second spring when it sighted the Dominie. For about a -second it was a three-cornered puzzle, with the Dominie with his gun at -his shoulder, and the Injun trainin’ his artillery for action--yes, he -had a gun, too--and the panther switchin’ its tail and makin’ up its -mind whether it’d jump for the white man or the red. And the brave’s -gun was a-swingin’ as if he wa’n’t quite clear whether he’d better pot -the brute or the white man. Now seein’ these things, as the Dominie -seen ’em, there’s some folks as ’d kept that Injun covered, anyhow, -sayin’ as how the scrap was his to begin with. But that wa’n’t Dominie -Pike’s way. Sot in his notions, the Dominie was; and one of them was -that he’d rather shoot wild beasts than humans. So he put a ball -through that panther’s head, and took his chances o’ the red brother -collectin’ his scalp. Which he didn’t--as this house, which the Dominie -built years afterward, shows.” - -Lon paused, but there was a chorus of demands that he go on with the -story. What did the Indian do? Why didn’t he attack the Dominie? - -Lon chuckled softly, perhaps more at thought of his success in holding -the attention of the boys away from their predicament than at the -continuation of the anecdote. - -“Wall, I wa’n’t there, so I can’t make no affidavits. But the yarn goes -that when that Injun seen the panther drop, he laid down his gun like -a gentleman and a good sport. And the Dominie laid down his--course, -’twa’n’t loaded, but the move showed a friendly, give and take spirit. -And both of ’em took a step forward, and looked each other over in the -moonlight. Then they took another look, and the Dominie said something. -The Injun said something back. His lingo was new to the Dominie mostly, -but some words he could make out. And, after a long while, each got -kind of a line on the other. Each was lost--there’s a funny part of it.” - -“But an Indian wouldn’t be lost in the woods,” Sam objected. - -Lon shook his head. “Wrong there, Sam. This Injun was lost. Course, if -he hadn’t been bothered, and if his grub held out, he’d have worked his -way back; but, as ’twas, he was a stray from the country he knew. So he -and the Dominie, once makin’ friends, could hit it out fine, both bein’ -in the same box. And they did hit it out. Dominie Pike allers got along -fust rate with the Injuns, anyhow. But it was while he was connivin’ -with this special Injun that he got acquainted with Sugar Valley and -decided to move in and settle permanent.” - -Tom Orkney spoke in the incisive fashion he had. “That story in the -Dominie’s diary, Lon?” - -“Reckon so. Not that I ever saw the book, though--remember, don’t you, -what Mis’ Grant told us about its gettin’ lost?” - -“I remember,” said Tom. - -Lon put another stick on the fire. “How’s the supply of fuel?” he -inquired. “And where might the wood-pile happen to be?” - -“I’ll show you,” cried Varley; and, eager to bear his full part, began -to lower himself through the hole in the floor. There was the sound of -a loud splashing, and in an instant Paul, drenched to the knees, was -scrambling back. - -“Cellar’s flooded!” he shouted excitedly. “Water’s almost up to the -floor beams!” - -“’Twould be, of course,” said Lon coolly. - -“Yes, we should have thought of that,” Sam agreed. “Wait a minute, -though, fellows.” - -Again he went to the window, and peered out. The darkness was intense; -the rain continued to fall heavily. It was largely guesswork, but his -impression was that there had been a slight rise in the water about the -house since his last observation. - -Sam turned to his companions. He was quite aware of the need of keeping -his head. - -“Things are no better,” he retorted, “but we could hardly expect them -to be.” - -“Not with this rain poundin’ down,” Lon put in. - -“Still, they’re not much worse,” Sam added. - -“And we’re safe and snug, with a roof over us.” - -The Shark grunted. “Huh! It’s a leaking roof. Look there!” - -He pointed to a dark patch of moisture on one of the walls. - -“Oh, that?” Lon tried to speak lightly. “Guess there may be a few of -the old shingles loose.” - -The Shark jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “If you look in the corner, -you’ll find a small waterfall going. I’ve been hearing the splash for -a quarter of an hour. I don’t care a rap, but I do like to have things -stated accurately. The roof must be like a sieve!” - -“Oh, well, what are the odds?” queried Sam, as cheerily as he could. - -The Shark waved a hand. “I’m not kicking on the facts, but on the -errors of statement--that’s all.” - -“Well, state it to suit yourself,” said Sam; but the Shark did not -accept the invitation. - -There was a pause in the talk, and it was a long pause. The drip, drip -of more than one little stream was audible, except when the noises from -without rose above all other sounds. The fall of the rain was like -a steady drone; the wind was beginning to rise, and now and then a -squall whipped the branches of an overhanging tree against the house; -at intervals could be heard the harsh grating of ice against ice, as -the floes went drifting by. Twice or thrice floating masses struck the -house blows that made the old structure tremble, and then ground along -the side till the flood carried them clear. - -Not a member of the party from Lon down to the Shark but was -considering their situation and its dangers, each in his own way. For -all the conclusion was the same: there was nothing for it but to remain -where they were. If the flood rose no higher, they would not fare -very badly. The house, ancient though it might be, plainly was still -a strong structure, capable of withstanding much battering. Lon, who -broke the silence, phrased the opinion of the group: - -“When the old Dominie built, he built for keeps--no jerry work for -him, I tell you! Big beams, heavy timbers--wood was the cheapest thing -outdoors in his times. And wooden pegs to hold ’em together. Why, -boys, I’ve seen folks tryin’ to tear down an old house like this one, -and they pretty nigh had to use dynamite to unjoint the frame. Don’t -believe that? Umph! They had to use a yoke of oxen, then, if that’ll -suit you better.” - -“Either story suits us well enough,” said Sam; and with that the talk -languished. - -Now and then one or another went to the window, peered out, came -back, hovered over the fire. It was dying down now, and the stock of -available fuel was running short. But already there were warnings that -it would not be long before the fire would be put out in another way. - -The water in the cellar had risen to the level of the floor of the -room. From the gap where the Shark and Varley had broken through, a -pool was spreading toward the walls. Through the door, too, a stream -was trickling, a tiny stream at first, but steadily growing in volume. - -There was no way to check the rising tide, and the boys silently -watched the water approach the hearth. At last it reached the glowing -coals. There was a faint, hissing sound. A little puff of steam rose, -gleamed white for an instant, faded away. A black border of drenched -ashes was slowly widening and nearing the heart of the fire. - -Sam turned to the Shark. “There’s an upper story; there’ll be stairs, -of course. Looked around any, have you?” - -The Shark nodded. “We looked. Yes, there are stairs--we didn’t go up. -Pretty dark it was.” - -“It’ll be darker now, but we’ll have to try ’em,” said Sam quietly. - -Again the Shark nodded. “Figured it would come to that. So I saved -this.” He pulled from within his jacket a piece of pine board. “This -was dry and I guess I’ve kept it so. Lot of pitch in it, too. Ought to -make sort of a torch. Wait a minute!” - -Bending forward, he thrust an end of the piece of wood into the flame -still burning at the back of the hearth. There was a sputter, a spark -or two flew. Then a jet of smoke shot out, and a yellow tongue curled -about the end of the pine board. - -Protecting the precious flame with his cupped hand, the Shark followed -Sam through the doorway, and into the hall of the old house, wading -through water ankle deep as they went. After them filed the others, Lon -bringing up the rear. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII THROUGH THE LONG NIGHT - - -The hallway of the ancient structure was curiously small in contrast -with the big room the boys had just left. It was, indeed, little more -than a box of an entry, with a winding stair in one corner, a plan -of construction made necessary, no doubt, by the huge chimney in the -middle of the house. In making the most of limited space, however, the -designer had produced a crowded effect, even when the hall was bare of -fittings, as it now was. - -With the draft created by the fire and the open window, the air in -the room the boys had just left had freshened considerably; but the -hall was full of a stale and musty odor. The torch burned feebly. Once -it seemed to be on the point of being extinguished, but the Shark by -careful nursing saved the flame. - -Sam laid hand on the old-fashioned rail of the stairway. - -“One at a time,” he said. “If there are any weak spots, we don’t want -to tumble through them in a crowd. Safety First!” - -“Sure thing--Varley and I got enough of the other scheme!” quoth the -Shark. “Go ahead, Sam!” - -A bit gingerly Sam began the ascent of the flight. The old boards -creaked and groaned under his weight, but there was no indication of -serious weakness in them or their supports. - -The flickering light from the torch left the top of the stairs in deep -shadow. The explorer inferred rather than was certain that the upper -hall was merely a landing by which one could reach the rooms on either -side. Still holding the rail, he called out to the others to follow, -one by one. - -Orkney gave Varley a push, and thus settled the order of precedence; -for the Shark elected to be No. 3, keeping the light in the midst of -the party. Then Lon shoved Orkney ahead, much as Tom had encouraged -Paul, and made himself the rear-guard. The stairs groaned and creaked -more dolefully than ever, but held firm. - -Sam, meanwhile, had edged across the landing and into one of the -rooms, the door of which stood open. It happened to be directly above -the apartment they had first entered, and, so far as he could make out, -corresponded with it in size, though it was still lower of ceiling. A -gleam from the smoking pine stick showed that, like the room below, it -had a fireplace. - -While the air was a trifle better than on the lower floor, Sam lost -no time in getting at a window; and when the sash stuck, he promptly -smashed a couple of the small panes. Incidentally, he made note that -the rain was falling steadily. - -In this upper chamber the proofs of the leaks in the roof were -numerous. Little streams were running down all four of the walls, -against one of which, where probably the beams sagged, a pool a yard -or more across had formed. Other parts of the floor, however, were -still dry. Very few of the furnishings had been left in the room. The -tall headboard of an old-fashioned bedstead leaned against a wall, and -near the hearth was a heavy settle, too bulky, probably, to have made -it worth while to go to the trouble of removing it. It furnished a -seat for Lon and Orkney, while Varley and the Shark joined Sam in the -inspection of their refuge. This completed, the three joined the two -before the fireplace. The Shark stuck his brand in a crevice between -two bricks; watched its none too vigorous flame for a moment; stepped -forward and extinguished it. - -“Guess we’ll economize on the illumination,” he said. “When this is -gone, I don’t know where the next’ll come from. And who’s afraid of the -dark, anyway?” - -Nobody made reply to this query. There was a pause; then Sam asked, -a little sharply, if the Shark were sure his supply of matches was -protected from the dampness. In turn, the question led to a reckoning -of the stock of all the party. Orkney had a metal pocket-case, well -filled; Lon had a score of matches loose in a waistcoat pocket; Sam -himself could contribute a dozen. In this respect, at least, they were -prepared for emergencies. Sam heard somebody’s sigh of relief in the -darkness, and sympathized with it. - -Truth to tell, the adventurers were now in the midst of one of their -most trying experiences. The gloom of the room; the inaction; the -forced waiting--all these things tested grit. For the time being, they -seemed to be safe enough, but nobody could tell what the conditions -might be an hour hence. The flood continued to rise about the old -house. Sam’s observations from the window were confirmed by Orkney, who -felt his way down the stairs, but only to return with word that the -water was encountered half-way down the flight. - -Again Sam felt the responsibility which falls to a leader. He whispered -a word in Lon’s ear; and Lon, good fellow that he was, did his best -to cheer his companions. He racked his memory for tales of Dominie -Pike and his exploits, and embroidered the traditions with his own -inventions, perhaps, for quaint tales they were which he told of the -pioneer days in Sugar Valley. Sam noted that Tom Orkney was especially -interested. Varley, too, put an occasional question; but there was -nothing to indicate that the Shark was at all attentive. - -Sam, presently, crept to the Shark’s side. Lon was in the midst of a -yarn, and was talking loudly; there was small danger that a whispered -conversation would be overheard. - -“Oh, Shark!” Sam spoke very softly. - -“Eh? What?” The Shark’s response was in like tone. - -“I’ve been wondering--say! ought to be some limit to this sort of -thing--rise of the river, I mean. What’s your notion?” - -“Pure conjecture!” Low as the reply was, it had a shade of testiness. - -“I know--but what’s your conjecture? Your line, you know--figuring--all -that.” - -The Shark considered briefly. “Well, I’ll tell you, Sam. Something’s -happened.” - -“Don’t need to tell me that!” growled Sam. - -“You don’t understand. I mean, something’s happened more than a common -spring freshet. The rain and the melting snow filled the river, as I -saw, and as you must have seen, too. But ordinarily the river takes -care of the most of the water--the Grants spoke as if there’d been -little trouble in other years. This time, though--well, you know how -much snow there was, and how quickly it goes under a rain like this. -And Mr. Grant said they’d been having the storm up-stream a good while -before it hit us. One of the dams must have gone out--that’d account -for the tidal wave--if you can call it that--which came rushing down -the valley.” - -“I see,” said Sam. “It’s reasonable.” - -“Of course it is--I’m telling you,” said the Shark simply. “Listen now, -though! If nothing else had happened, once the crest of the wave had -passed, we’d have seen the water begin to go down. Why? Because the -natural drainage would be taking care of it. Pour a pitcher of water -into a set-bowl, when the plug isn’t in the outlet, and after a few -seconds you’ll see the level lowering. Drop the plug in place, and the -bowl stays full. And I tell you, Sam, Sugar Valley is a lot like a big -bowl.” - -“But----” - -The Shark disregarded the interruption. “Hold on! Let me finish. -There’s a plausible explanation of our fix. Our big bowl is plugged, -and if it is, the plug is an ice jam. Remember how narrow the gorge is -at the foot of the valley? Remember how the bridge piers clutter it up? -Well, then! Plain as the nose on your face! River carries down a lot -of big chunks. They pile up against the bridges and wedge together. -Then along comes a lot of logs and floating riffraff to fill in the -cracks. That’s how you get your dam that’ll turn the valley into a big -pond. The water can’t run off, so it stays here and keeps rising and -rising.” - -“But how much longer can it keep on rising?” - -“Can’t say. Lack data. As I recall that map, though, I don’t believe -we’ve seen high water mark yet--not by a long shot!” - -“But the dam--if there is one----?” - -“Well, they mostly use dynamite to blow up ice jams. So I guess it’s a -question of how soon somebody gets to this one with a cartridge.” - -Sam groaned. The Shark put out a hand in the darkness and caught his -arm. - -“Nobody’s fault, this fix. Couldn’t get to high ground after that wave -came along. Doubt if we could have made it before that--lot of low -places in between. Nobody to blame. Sensible thing to stay here. That’s -the whole story.” - -“I hope so,” said Sam very soberly. He shook off the hand, and moved to -the window. Dark as the night was, he could not escape conviction that -the water was still climbing higher and higher. - -Lon brought his story to a close, and there was silence in the room. -It made all the more marked the noises without, the beat of the rain, -the swirl of the flood against the house. There were other sounds, -too, weird and mysterious, some faint and far off; others near at -hand and still more disturbing. As for the house itself, it seemed to -be straining like a ship in a storm, while it hardly needed a lively -fancy to find in its shaking a hint of the trembling of a vessel’s -hull under the pounding of big waves. Yet it was evident that the -stout old building was withstanding the flood better than many a more -modern and more lightly constructed house could have hoped to withstand -it. Nevertheless, there was mighty complaint of beam and upright, -which was not cheering to hear. Sam, listening and watchful, was a -bit encouraged. The house might shake from roof to foundation, but it -seemed to be coming to no harm. The huge chimney, doubtless, was like -a brace to the entire structure. - -Even if the house stood, though, there remained another question to be -answered: How long would the flood continue to rise? - -The Shark plainly feared that they were still far from the greatest -peril from this source. Sam had to own that the fear might be -justified. The suggestion of an ice jam and ice dam at the foot of the -valley could not be verified, of course, but it was possible to gauge -the steady rise of the water. Sam made the stairs a practical register. -From time to time he ventured down them, and regularly found the -invading flood a little higher than before. - -The hours wore away slowly. At intervals some one or another of the -refugees announced the time, striking a match ostensibly in order to -glance at his watch, but taking remarkable care to save the tiny flame -as long as possible. Everybody craved light. Lack of it was, in fact, -the hardest part of the ordeal. Warmth, too, would have been welcome, -but the night was not cold and the need of a fire was felt less acutely -than the dispiriting effect of the dense darkness. - -Talk was intermittent. Now and again somebody would rouse to interest -in some aspect of their situation, and perhaps stir his neighbors to -join in a discussion, and Lon told a dozen stories; but there were -half-hours when nobody spoke. Sam, with his sense of responsibility -strong upon him, studied his companions. The Shark caused him little -concern. Silent meditation was quite in keeping with the habits of the -mathematical youth, and Sam had no reason to doubt his nerve in case of -grave emergency. - -Varley was more puzzling. Unquestionably the city boy was under a -greater strain than his comrades, because of the entire novelty of his -surroundings. The others knew more or less about abandoned farmhouses, -but such a place as the Dominie Pike homestead was wholly strange to -Paul. Seemingly, he was of good courage, and his conduct won Sam’s -approving respect. - -Oddly enough, Tom Orkney presented another problem. Tom ordinarily -was a reticent, self-contained fellow; but this night he took a -leading share in the talk. He appeared to be intensely interested in -everything he could learn about the old Dominie, and plied Lon with -queries. Finally, he borrowed the Shark’s stump of pine wood, lighted -it, and began a careful examination of the room. This finished, he -restored the torch to its owner and guardian, who promptly extinguished -the flame and stowed the precious remnant in an inside pocket of his -jacket. - -“Well, found out anything?” Sam asked, as Tom dropped beside him. - -“I don’t know--I’m not certain,” Orkney answered slowly. “Somehow, -though, I think I’ve got a line or two. I believe this room was the -Dominie’s own--his study, maybe.” - -“What! An up-stairs study?” - -“Sounds unreasonable, I’ll admit, considering the plain living of the -old days. But there’s a fireplace, and it looks as if there was a sort -of closet on each side of the chimney, or hiding place--I don’t know -exactly what to call it. What makes me think so? Well, I can’t be sure, -but I suspect there’s wood fitted in among the bricks and made to look -just like them. Anyway, that’s the feel of it!” - -“The feel?” Sam asked skeptically. - -“Try it yourself. Come along--I’ll show you,” said Orkney, and got -upon his feet. Sam, too, rose. - -Orkney made his way back to the chimney, Sam following. There, under -Tom’s direction, he groped about the brickwork, without arriving at any -clear conclusion. - -“If I could see anything, it would be different,” he remarked. “But -this thing--say, my fingers are numb, anyway! I can’t feel anything but -clammy dampness. But what’s the idea you’re working on?” - -“Oh, I don’t know--sort of a notion--a hunch, maybe.” - -“What kind of a hunch? - -“It--it’s pretty vague,” Orkney confessed. - -Sam, not deeply impressed but willing enough that Orkney should find -even such diversion, moved back to the window. From sounds which -proceeded, presently, from the direction of the chimney he inferred -that Tom had taken out his knife and was scratching away at the -old mortar. After a little, however, he lost consciousness of this -activity, and, indeed, of a good deal more; for he fell into an uneasy -doze. - -Subsequently on comparing notes, the boys had to admit, one and all, -that in spite of their perils they caught some sleep in the course of -the night. Probably all of them slept longer than they realized. Sam, -at any rate, must have passed from doze to sound slumber; for when he -was awakened by a tremendous crash there was a second or two in which -he did not realize where he was or how he came to be there. The old -house was still trembling violently from the concussion, as well as -from a series of minor blows, as the object which had collided with -it was carried along, grinding and pounding against the side of the -building. - -In the room there was something closely akin to panic for a moment. -Varley shouted wildly for help. Lon was scrambling to the window. Sam -heard Orkney cry out, and caught distinctly the Shark’s shrill whistle, -and close-following comment: - -“Whew! There’s bulk, with momentum, for you! Say, what was it?” - -Sam found himself peering over Lon’s shoulder. Certainly there was a -slight lessening of the darkness. He could make out dimly a black mass -drifting by. - -“Great Scott! but that must be one o’ them big barges from the brick -yards!” Lon groaned. “Use ’em to freight the bricks down to the -railroad, they do. But the yards are up above the big dam. If that’s -one o’ their boats, it means that dam has gone out as well as the -little fellow we’ve been figgerin’ on. Jeewhillikens! but this is a -reg’lar granddaddy of a flood! Must be, for they haul the barges out -winters, and the one that hit us must ’a’ been well up the bank. And -look how the water’s riz, anyhow!” - -Sam looked; that is, he gazed as at a dark curtain, and saw a pale -glimmer just discernible at what he estimated to be but a few -inches below the level of the upper floor. As he was continuing his -observations, Orkney plucked at his sleeve. - -“That jolt pretty nearly got to us, Sam. I’ve been scouting out in the -hall. I couldn’t see much, but it looks as if the whole corner had been -torn out of the room on the other side. And the house--what’s left of -it, I mean, is askew. Floor of the hall’s tilted like a hillside.” - -Sam made reconnaissance for himself, and found that Tom had by no -means exaggerated the conditions. He returned to the room, to discover -that Orkney was again scratching at the chimney. From the neighborhood -of the window Lon spoke: - -“Boys, I dunno but we’ll have to move along pooty soon--water sure is -climbin’ and climbin’. So as I hate to take a jump in the dark, as you -might say, I guess I’ll go scoutin’ for some road that leads higher, -too. Jest you wait here, and I’ll let you know what I find out.” - -In a moment more they could hear him in the hall; but several minutes -passed before he called out to the Shark to bring him what was left of -the torch. The Shark obeyed; and, presently, there was a creak of rusty -hinges, and Lon called out cheerily: - -“It’s all right! Attic stairs jest about where I cal’lated they ought -to be. That’s enough of the light, son. Put it out and save the pieces -till we need ’em again.” - -Then back came Lon and his torch-bearer to join Sam and Varley and -Orkney in the nerve-testing task of waiting for the steadily rising -flood to drive them from their refuge. - -How long they waited none of them knew. To Sam it seemed to be hours -and hours before a chance movement of his was marked by the splash -of his foot in water. Through the open door a tidy little stream was -pouring into the room from the hall. - -Now the old house was creaking and groaning, and without were all the -noises of the storm, but not one of the party missed that splash or -misunderstood its meaning. - -“Heh! Time to go, ain’t it?” Lon tried to speak lightly, but his tone -betrayed his excitement. - -“Yes, it’s time,” Sam said; his voice, too, was shaking. - -“All right! Light up, Shark,” Lon directed. “You and me’ll go ahead, -seein’ as how we know the way. Rest o’ you keep clost to us.” - -The Shark’s torch was but an inch or two of blackened, resinous pine, -and its flame was no greater than that of a toy candle. Still, it -enabled Sam to observe Orkney digging away at the bricks of the chimney -with furious haste. - -“Drop that, Tom, and come along,” he called. - -Orkney gave no heed to the summons. Instead, he worked more desperately -than ever. - -“Give me time! I--I’m getting there!” he declared. - -The Shark was moving toward the door. The faint beams of his torch -quite failed to reach the spot where Orkney stood. Sam had no notion -of what Tom might be about, but he had strongly developed opinions on -the unwisdom of tarrying. He strode across the room, grasped Orkney’s -shoulder. The other resisted briefly. In a vague way Sam conjectured -that he was groping about the chimney. Also he remembered, afterward, -that Orkney uttered a queer little exclamation, which seemed to betoken -satisfaction, then ceased his resistance. - -“Come on!” Sam urged, and Orkney came. Possibly Sam felt rather than -saw that Tom was thrusting something into the protection of his closely -buttoned coat; but what was of far greater immediate importance was the -depth of the invading water, through which they had to wade. It was -ankle-deep in the half-wrecked hall; it was over the lower step of the -steep and narrow stair leading to the attic, up which Lon and Varley -already had passed. - -The Shark, standing at the foot of the flight and cherishing his feeble -beacon, growled his opinion of those who delayed. - -“What you fellows dillydallying for? Think I’m a government lighthouse -that’s bound to keep going, anyway? This thing’s nothing but one coal, -and it’s getting to me--ouch! I can’t keep on holding it till daylight!” - -Sam and Orkney, thus exhorted, quickened their pace. But as they did -so, Lon raised a shout, in which was a ring of jubilation: - -“Hullo, everybody! Speakin’ o’ daylight, I can see something that’s -mighty good for my sore eyes. What is it, eh? Well, it’s where there -used to be roof, and where there ain’t any roof left now. But in place -of it is jest the cheerfulest patch o’ mighty nigh washed out dawn that -ever showed over to the east’ard. It’s mornin’, boys, or ’twill be in a -few shakes of a lamb’s tail. Oh, well, see for yourselves then, if you -ain’t willin’ to believe me.” - -The Shark dropped his torch--it went out with a hiss in the pool at -his feet--and raced up the stair. Orkney and Sam dashed after him. - -What Lon had told them was true. An end of the roof was -missing--carried away, perhaps, by the barge. And there the sky showed -gray and dull, yet with the early dawn upon it. - -No doubt the attic was even more cheerless, otherwise, than the -room they had just quitted, but that patch of light made amends for -everything. What if the drenching rain had poured through the break -until the place were half-afloat? What if here the tumult of the storm -and of the flood were louder and more menacing than ever? The darkness -had been the direst of their troubles, and now it was about to be ended. - -The missing segment of roof extended close to the floor at one end. Sam -had no trouble in looking out. And he it was who made a discovery, at -which he raised a cry as jubilant as Lon’s had been but a moment before. - -Under the gray sky the flooded river spread like a black lake all about -them. But close at hand, drifting directly toward the house, was that -which he longed most to see. - -“A boat! A boat!” - -His call brought his companions to his side. Eagerly they gazed, and -joined in a chorus of hails to the navigators. There were two of these. -Each had been sitting huddled on a thwart; each roused to activity -at sound of human voices, and, catching up a piece of board, fell to -paddling wildly. - -The Shark needed spectacles to improve his vision, yet it fell to his -lot to be first to recognize the boatmen. - -“Jupiter Crickets! Poke and Step!” he gasped; and in his tone was more -bewilderment than delight. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX WHAT BEFELL POKE AND STEP - - -It will be recalled that in the division of forces for the search -Herman Boyd and the Trojan were detailed to follow the road down the -valley, making inquiries at each house and seeking news of the missing -Shark and Varley. - -This duty they performed conscientiously, but wholly without result. - -Nobody had seen or heard anything of the pair. From each house which -was provided with a telephone the boys made report to Mrs. Grant and -learned from her that seemingly the other hunters were having no better -fortune. More than once they were advised to give up their task and -accept shelter and refreshment; but they declined the invitations and -resumed their march. What is more, they did not restrict themselves to -inquiries of the residents, but now and then made a detour toward the -river. It was to be observed, as they neared the foot of the valley, -that the lowlands were flooded in many places. The boys agreed that -their prospects of success were not bright, but neither was willing to -turn back. - -“We’ll keep on as far as the bridges, anyway,” the Trojan said. “Sam’d -expect us to do that much.” - -Herman nodded. “He’d keep on, if he were here.” - -“Sure he would!” - -“Yes, old Sam’s a sticker.” - -“Then we’ll be stickers, too: we won’t fail him.” - -This decided, they continued their tramp. And while they went splashing -and sloshing along the road, which was by no means a poor imitation of -a canal in places, Step and Poke, heading in the opposite direction, -were having a very similar experience. - -The tall youth and his plump chum were quite as much in earnest as -were Herman and the Trojan, but temperamentally were not so well -fitted to carry out a commander’s orders implicitly. Besides, under -the depressing weather conditions, Poke could hardly avoid meditation -upon the sorrows of his own lot. With rain driving in his face and -snow water at times a quarter-way up the legs of his rubber boots, it -is scarcely to be wondered that he tended to the pessimistic view. To -tell the truth, Poke liked the comfortable things of life, and turned -regretfully from the warm kitchens of the farmhouses at which he halted -to ask the question, to which there was regularly the same answer. -Nobody had seen a smallish boy in glasses and a larger boy who didn’t -wear glasses. - -Trudging on, doggedly and faithfully, Poke relapsed into a dull -silence, which at last attracted the attention of Step. The latter -was not unmindful of his friend’s mood; in fact, he tried to show his -sympathy. Ordinarily, the two got on famously, but now Step contrived -to strike a jarring note. - -“Oh, buck up, Poke; buck up!” he urged. “Luck’ll have to turn. You -ought to be able to see that.” - -Now, this was meant in all kindness, but it did not fall pleasingly on -Poke’s ear. Doubtless the fault was his own, not Step’s. - -“Huh! Talk’s cheap!” he growled. - -Step flushed wrathfully. “Oh, well, if you don’t want to see, you don’t -have to, you chump!” - -“Huh! Chump, am I? Well, if I had a periscope-pole neck like yours I -could see a lot of funny things, too.” - -This was personal insult, so intended and so received. Step pulled up -short. - -“Periscope neck, eh? Well, I’d rather have one like that than be a -human flat-iron!” - -Poke halted, too. He glared up at Step as savagely as Step was glaring -down at him. Together they presented a quaint scene of wrath, standing -there in slush to their ankles and with the rain running down their -long coats in little streams. The humor of the situation escaped Poke, -but he was quick witted enough to take advantage of the circumstance -that Step had been first to pause. He cut short his own delay, and took -as long a stride as his short legs permitted. - -“That’s right--be a quitter!” he said over his shoulder. “Anything to -get out of hunting for Varley and the Shark, of course!” - -Step was beside him in an instant. “Quitter, eh?” he snarled. “We’ll -see who’ll be first to lay down his playthings in this game!” - -“Oh, then you haven’t really laid them down, eh?” said Poke with crafty -sweetness. “Isn’t it too bad it looked so much like that?” - -Step merely gritted his teeth in reply, and set a pace which put Poke -into a dog-trot to keep abreast of him. - -It was, of course, the most trivial of quarrels, but like some other -trifles in life fated to have consequences out of all ratio to its -real importance. It made both boys determined to go on with the hunt -without much regard for reason. Also it brought it about that when in -the growing darkness the flood came sweeping down the valley in a fine -wave, Poke and Step were still marching along, each more intent upon -wearing out the other than upon keeping keen watch for danger. - -Luckily, the roar of the approaching water gave even these preoccupied -youths some warning. Luckily, too, though the road they were then -traveling was close to the river, they were near a tiny hillock on -which stood a shed such as farmers sometimes build in remote fields to -protect stock or tools. Poke and Step dashed for its shelter, and were -well above the wave as it went raging down the valley. However, it left -them on what was now an island, safe for the time being, but cut off -from the shore by a hundred yards or more of deeply inundated swale. - -Poke clutched Step, and Step clung to Poke, their bickering forgotten -and peace restored. In a moment they were as thoroughly comradely -as Herman and the Trojan, who three or four miles down the valley -watched, or, more accurately, heard the sweep of the wave down the -stream. Chance had put the Trojan and his companion, at the time on the -hillside, well above the flood level. In the faint light they could -make out little except that the stream, of a sudden, was over its -banks; but while they were pausing, uncertain what to do, Mr. Grant’s -hired man drove up. He could give them no information except that he -had been instructed to carry on the inquiry for the Shark and Varley at -the gorge at the mouth of the valley. They held a short consultation, -agreeing that the man should go on as far as he could, the road at this -point being well above high water mark, while the boys turned back. By -keeping to the hillside they would be able to regain the Grant place, -and on the way they could continue the search for traces of the missing -pair. - -For Poke and Step, however, no such solution of their problem was -possible. They were effectually marooned. Neither felt tempted to -venture to swim to the shore. They put their heads together, debated -briefly, and agreed that there was nothing to do but to make the best -of the situation. - -The roof of the shed leaked abominably, but at one end they found a -comparatively dry spot, and here, too, they made a discovery. Against -the wall lay a boat, bottom up, evidently in storage for the winter. -It was a home-made affair; a punt, broad, flat-bottomed, square-ended; -built of heavy planks and generally so clumsy and weighty that they -were unable to move it, though they put all their strength into the -effort. - -“No use!” groaned Step, and now it was Poke who took the rôle of -comforter. - -“Well, I don’t see any oars, so it doesn’t matter very much.... What’s -that? Don’t want to stay here all night, you say? Well, I don’t want -to, either; but I’m not going to worry about it. Maybe something will -turn up.” - -Step dismally pointed a number of very good reasons for doubting that -anything could turn up to their advantage; but Poke declined to lose -heart. - -“I know, I know!” he said. “Luck’s against us just now--guess I’m a -regular Jonah, anyway. But it’ll have to turn--say! I’m not sure but it -has turned.” - -“How?” Step demanded skeptically. - -Poke waved a hand at the dark flood. “Suppose that had caught us. This -is no picnic, you’re thinking? I tell you it’s a party compared with -being out in that mess. Goodness knows, I’ve got troubles enough in -life, but I’m not quite ready to be drowned yet!” - -“Well, I’m not, either,” Step admitted. “Only--only I do wish it’d stay -light a little longer.” - -“With you there!” cried Poke earnestly. - -The gloom, in fact, was for the chums--as for the larger party in the -old house--the most insistent of the night’s discomforts. It was worse -than the pelting rain, from which, indeed, they had found shelter of -a sort; it was worse than the chill of the air which increased as the -night advanced, for they could huddle together for warmth. It even -seemed to offer more menacing perils than the steadily rising flood, -whose approach to the summit of the hillock it concealed. How Step and -Poke endured the dragging hours can better be imagined than described. -They had their alarms--many of them. Mysterious sounds came from the -bosom of the flood; an owl hooted sepulchrally; occasionally a squall -swept by, whistling shrilly about the shed. There were long intervals, -though, in which they heard only the monotonous beat of the rain and -a sound very like a heavy murmur from the river; and at such times -weariness took its toll, and both boys slept, fitfully, brokenly and -restlessly. - -Rather oddly, neither of them suspected the manner in which the waters -were creeping toward their refuge. Neither had the mathematical bent of -the Shark to work out a theory of a valley like a plugged bowl; and so, -while they were perfectly aware of the discomforts of their situation -and while they were full of anxiety as to the fate of their friends, -the discovery, at last, that the still rising river was invading the -shed came with surprise as well as consternation. - -They turned again to the boat, and made desperate efforts to drag it -out; but in this they were hampered and handicapped by the darkness. -They did succeed in turning it on its side, but there it stuck, in -spite of all their efforts. - -Now came a new cause of alarm. Some shift in the current began to -swerve drifting objects toward their island. A score or more of big -logs, freed by the breaking of some boom up-stream, came like a fleet -of rams to batter the walls of the rickety structure. By this time the -water was more than knee deep on the highest part of the earth floor of -the shed, and Poke and Step were perched in insecurity on a pile of old -boxes in a corner. The only alleviating feature of their situation was -a lessening of the darkness with the coming of the dull dawn; but it -was still a faint twilight which was all about them when the end of the -shed came. - -Another lot of logs, traveling with even more momentum than the first -flotilla, seemed to charge upon them. One tore a great hole in the shed -wall; a second ripped away an end. Then a huge timber lodged against an -upright of the framework, and with the full force of the flood behind -it, turned like a beam of a great derrick, carrying away what was left -of the roof, tearing out the wall as if it had been made of paper, and -completing the ruin of the shed. The pile of boxes was tossed aside, -and Poke and Step were pitched into the water. - -The big log, though, served them a good turn as well as a bad one. -Their asylum was gone, but the boat had been set afloat by the blow, -and, what was still better, was floating right side up. Half full of -water as it was, it was a very ark of safety to the boys, who climbed -aboard just as the current seized it and carried it free of the -wreckage. - -For a moment or two the voyagers were content to sit still and regain -breath. Then, pluckily, they set about improving the opportunity for -escape which Fortune had thrown in their way. - -There were no oars aboard, but Step tore a broken thwart from its -fastenings. One piece of the board he gave to Poke and another he -himself put over the side. Both boys fell to paddling frantically--but -to small avail. The punt was heavy, clumsy, water-logged. The paddles -were the poorest of excuses. It was all they could do to swing the -blunt bow of the boat toward the dimly visible shore; and after ten -minutes’ hard, but vain, endeavor the chums ceased their labors. - -Their plight now was distressful, though possibly having less of -peril than had threatened them on their temporary island. Their ark, -if unmanageable, kept afloat, and was stout enough to be in no great -danger from collision with other flotsam borne along by the current. -They were in water half-way to their knees, but even if the boat -filled, its wooden bulk promised sufficient buoyancy to support them. - -“Sooner or later we’ll have to drift ashore--somewhere,” Poke remarked -philosophically. “Kind of like the stone you chuck in the air--‘What -goes up must come down,’ you know. And this isn’t the ocean--we’ll -make land after a while.” - -[Illustration: “WE’LL HAVE TO DRIFT ASHORE SOMEWHERE”] - -“Huh! Don’t make out any now!” croaked Step. - -Poke made deliberate survey. The light was still dim; low lying, gray -clouds seemed to merge in thin mists, through which only vaguely could -the shore be discerned. The rain had decreased somewhat, but it was -like a veil in hiding distant objects. There were, to be sure, other -objects near at hand, which under happier conditions the voyagers must -have found interesting. Keeping pace with the boat, and not fifty feet -away, drifted an overturned wagon. Trailing this came a pagoda-like -summer-house, at the head of a fleet of chicken coops, boxes and -barrels. Farther still from the boat floated the roof of a barn. All -about them the boys saw planks, logs, a section of wooden fence, -limbs torn from trees, doors, odds and ends of furniture; anything, -in fact, which the flood could bear along. A squirrel, perched on a -log, chattered at them; a cat, crouched on a big packing-case, mewed -piteously. Beyond the case they could see the body of a cow, still held -by a halter to the shed in which she had been drowned, and which now -was sweeping down the stream. - -Except for the current there was more suggestion of lake than river; -though the trees protruding above the water added a weird touch to the -picture, which differed markedly from that of any lake either boy ever -had seen. Even the philosophy of Poke was not proof against the effects -of such evidences of destruction. He huddled himself lower, and his -voice shook. - -“I--I--say, this is pretty fierce, Step! Things must have been awful -for the folks up above.” - -“They’re awful enough for the folks here!” groaned Step. - -Then there was a long pause. The light strengthened, but slowly, very -slowly. Neither of the boys took pains to maintain a vigilant lookout; -and so it happened that they were sighted from the old house before -they were aware of the attic still protruding above the flood. - -Roused to action by the shouts of Sam and his comrades, they caught -up their extemporized paddles and fell to work as for dear life. Had -the boat not been drifting almost directly toward the house, however, -it is much to be doubted if they could have brought it alongside. As -things were, they accomplished the feat, the side of the punt crunching -against the roof just where Sam and his friends were gathered. - -Then a curious complication arose. It was eloquent testimony to the -slight confidence or liking either party had for its quarter; for as -the boys in the house tried to scramble into the boat, Poke and Step -leaped wildly for the break in the roof. In consequence, Poke and the -Shark collided, and pitched together to the floor of the attic, while -Step and Orkney, clinging to each other, reeled against Lon with such -force as to drive him back from the opening. - -Sam and Varley chanced to be a little to one side. This kept them free -of the unintentional mêlée, but, at the same time, put them farther -from the boat, which, helped, no doubt, by the impetus of Poke and -Step’s leaps, edged away from the house. - -It would be hard to say which was the quicker to grasp the danger -of losing the boat. Both sprang forward; both tried to grasp the -gunwale--and both failed by inches. - -Then Varley did a thing which may have been rash, but the daring of -which was not to be denied. Like a flash he whipped off his greatcoat; -vaulted the wreck of wall; plunged into the flood; caught the side of -the boat. Sam, no laggard in such an emergency, leaned out and seized -Varley by the leg. In an instant his call for Lon brought help. The big -punt was heavy; the current was beginning to lay hold upon it again. -For a little it seemed to be impossible that Varley should be able to -retain his grasp on the rail or that Lon and Sam should be able to haul -in their human cable; then, inch by inch, they began to gain. The boat -was dragged within reach. Orkney and the Shark, by this time clear of -Step and Poke, held it fast, while Sam hauled Varley out of the water. - -“Get aboard--quick--everybody!” Sam cried, and helped Varley to obey -the order. Then he turned and caught Step’s shoulder. - -“Pile in! Hustle Poke, too! It’s our only chance!” - -Step resisted. “Wait a minute, Sam! There are no oars. You can’t do -anything. You can’t----” - -Sam half pitched the objector into the punt. Poke, taking the hint, -followed, unassisted. - -Lon ripped up a narrow floor-board. - -“Here’s oars in the makin’,” he shouted. “All aboard--everybody that’s -goin’!” - -There was no need of further exhortation. In thirty seconds more the -Safety First Club was afloat, and the boat was again beginning to drift -away from the old house. - - - - -CHAPTER XX THE PRIZE SNATCHED FROM THE FLOOD - - -Lon’s floor-board gave material for three rough-and-ready paddles, -short, awkward to handle, yet more or less serviceable. Lon himself -kept one, Orkney took another, and Varley laid claim to the third. - -“I’ve got to keep my blood circulating,” he explained. “Thought I was -pretty well dampened before that last go, but now--whew! Say, I’d like -to be run through a clothes wringer just as I stand. Next best thing’ll -be working at something.” - -Sam also had stretched out a hand for the third paddle, but Lon ruled -in favor of Paul. - -“Varley, you can have anything I’ve got!” he said warmly. “That -leap-for-life, floatin’ trapeze stunt you done was amazin’ good -medicine for this crowd; for my notion is, the old river ain’t got -done risin’, and it ain’t got to do much more comin’ up in the world to -clean swamp that garret. Good, quick action o’ yourn, son, good quick -action, I tell you!” - -“Oh, I don’t know,” said Paul modestly. “It--well, it just seemed to be -a good idea. I--I hated, somehow, to lose the boat; though maybe the -flood won’t go much higher.” - -“No; Lon’s right.” It was the Shark who spoke, with all his customary -brusqueness. “Liable to be ten feet more of a rise. How do I know? How -do you know anything? Figure it out, don’t you? Just what I did! If the -mouth of the valley is dammed--must be, or the river would have behaved -better--the water’ll keep on rising till it’s over the top of the dam. -And from the levels as the map gave ’em, and the height of the bridge -piers, as I recalled ’em----” - -Sam caught him by the shoulder. “Look here, Shark! Do you mean you’d -figured all that out, and then didn’t tell us?” - -The Shark wriggled free. “Huh! What’d have been the good of telling? -Just would have worried you fellows some more--wouldn’t have helped -anything or anybody. You’re all right in your way, but you don’t seem -to be able to get any comfort out of calculations that go into three or -more figures. So if I’d said anything, you’d have wanted to know why -I said it, and when I tried to explain, you wouldn’t have understood. -But if you’re so set on having me say something now, I’ll tell you that -we’d better make shore. Current’s taking us down-stream, and I won’t -guarantee how long the ice dam will hold. Don’t want to go over it, or -through it, do you? Well then!” - -“Jumpin’ Jupiter, but that’s sense!” ejaculated Lon, and fell to -paddling. - -Orkney and Varley followed the example. Step and Poke found the pieces -of the broken thwart and added their mite. The Shark stared ahead. Sam, -for a moment, was without occupation, but then he pulled off his cap -and began to bail out some of the water in the boat. With the increased -number of passengers a leak or two had developed. - -There is no craft more difficult to manage than a flat-bottomed, -square-ended punt, deep in the water, and in the grasp of a strong -current. Naturally enough, the attempt was made to steer for the -nearer bank, the one on which was the Grant farmhouse. It resulted in a -sort of diagonal drift, in which a dozen feet were made down-stream for -every foot of approach to land. Sometimes the boat was fairly across -the current, sometimes her nose pointed almost directly down the river. -More than once collision with floating débris threw her off her course. -In short, she might have been compared to a crippled and bulky-bodied -beetle, struggling with broken legs to swim to the shore of a stream -into which it had fallen. But as the beetle, by virtue of hard work, -draws nearer the land, so the big punt edged away from the swifter -current of mid-stream. Presently she was scraping through the boughs -of a young grove, the trees of which were submerged to their tops. The -Shark, playing lookout man, sang out his news: - -“Hullo! There’s the Grants’ house! We’re just about abreast of it.” - -The paddlers toiled harder than ever, but Sam paused a moment in his -bailing. The light had strengthened; he had no trouble in making out -the house and the big barns near by. As well as he could determine, -the flood had not invaded the homestead, though it seemed to have -reached the road in front of the place. - -Lon and his crew tried to arrest the drift down-stream; observing -which, the Shark spoke oracularly: - -“Don’t try too hard to hold her on the mark! Keep her going, and see if -we don’t strike an eddy pretty soon. My guess is we will.” - -Step had little breath to spare, but he used some of it in speech. - -“What’s that?” he gasped. “You ‘guess’? Thought math-mathematicians -never guessed, but always were sure!” - -Round whipped the Shark, bristling. “Mathematics nothing! This is just -common sense. I’m counting on the chances of being right about an ice -jam down below. If it’s damming up the water, you’ll find some of the -surplus that can’t get through or over the obstruction forced back -along the edges, while the freshet keeps on pouring more water down the -middle. Seen how the water whirligigs in a bowl, haven’t you, when you -turn on the faucet? Well, then?” - -Step might have made answer, but Poke thumped him on the back. - -“Cut it out!” the plump youth advised. “This is no debate; it’s a job!” - -Step grunted, and fell to paddling again. The Shark shrugged his -shoulders, and resumed his observation; thought it was his privilege, -very speedily, to utter the words the most self-restrained of mortals -can’t deny themselves sometimes: - -“There! What did I tell you? We’ve hit an eddy!” - -It was true, and true beyond question. The lateral motion of the boat -was now up-stream rather than down; and there was no longer difficulty -in keeping the house over her square bow. Moreover, in the slack water -the pace of the heavy craft seemed to increase. And again the Shark -gave tidings: - -“Say, fellows, I can see folks! They’re waiting for us--right by the -edge of the road just below the house. Mr. Grant’s there--and there’s -another man--and hurrah! Herman and the Trojan! They’re both on deck, -so all our crowd’s accounted for! And oh, I say! There’s Mrs. Grant -hustling down from the house and waving a shawl or something like all -possessed!” - -With such good news ringing in the ears of the crew, the big boat -appeared fairly to jump forward. There was a mighty splashing along -both sides, but what the paddlers lacked in art they made up in energy. -From the shore came cries of welcome and eager query, but everybody on -the punt was too busy to make reply. Then there was more splashing, as -the Trojan and Herman, with Mr. Grant close behind them, dashed into -the water to meet the voyagers. They caught the gunwale of the boat and -dragged the craft forward till she grounded. And then the Shark laid -hold upon Mr. Grant. - -“There is an ice jam, isn’t there?” he demanded. “Big one, too?” - -“Biggest ever heard of in these parts! Both bridges knocked off their -piers and all tangled up with the ice. That’s what raised hob when the -dams up-river began to go out, and let down all the water. Railroad’s -sent for its wrecking crew, and it’s coming with dynamite to blow open -a channel, and----” - -The Shark was discourteous enough not to wait for the completion of -the sentence. He turned triumphantly to his comrades in general and to -Step in particular. - -“Hear that, did you? Josh me about guessing, would you? Huh! I’ll guess -again, and the guess is that the fellow who has the last laugh gets the -best one. Huh!” - -With that the Shark stepped ashore, avoided the outstretched arms of -Mrs. Grant, and fell prey to the Trojan, who splashed out of the river -as joyously as he had splashed into it. The Trojan and Herman had had -a night of terrible anxiety, but had escaped any adventures such as -had befallen the rest of the club. Maybe there was a touch of envy in -the demands upon the Shark for his story--which, by the way, the Shark -did not relate. Indeed, there was for a little too much confusion for -anybody to offer a coherent narrative; and then Mrs. Grant was urging -the party up the slope to the porch, and into the house, where open -fires burned cheerily, and where there was a wonderfully delicious odor -of boiling coffee and cooking viands. - -The big house seemed to have an unlimited store of dry garments. Mrs. -Grant brought them by the armful into the living-room, and made -proclamation: - -“Listen to me, everybody! You men folks can have this room to -yourselves while Hannah and I dish up the breakfast. It’ll be ready -for you the minute you’re all in dry things; and I reckon you’ll find -enough to go around. Don’t mind looks or fit, and don’t stop to primp. -And here’s a lot of good rough towels--you’ll need a rub-down to take -out the chill. Don’t you keep me waiting, and I won’t keep you waiting, -either!” - -She was turning to the door, but Sam stopped her. As head of the Safety -First Club, he had learned some valuable lessons in thoughtfulness for -others. - -“Just a minute, please, Mrs. Grant!” he begged. “Our folks in town--do -they know we’re all right, or have they heard anything about--about our -being out all night?” - -Mrs. Grant shook her head vigorously. “Not a syllable have they had, -good or bad, welcome or worrying! The telephone broke down about eight -o’clock last night, and I tell you, boys, I never was so glad of such -an accident before. If any of your mothers had called me up--mercy, -but I don’t know what I could have said or done! There, there! Let me -count you again. Let’s see! Five, six, seven, eight--yes, you’re all -here, thank the stars!” - -Lon heaved a burlesque sigh. “Oh, my, my! And I ain’t even figgered in -the census no more!” - -Mrs. Grant laughed very cheerfully. “Oh, you’ll figure, Lon Gates, but -I sort of put you in the ought-to-have-known-better class.” - -Lon bowed deeply. “Thanky for the compliment, ma’am. I don’t get so -many of ’em that I recognize ’em any easier than old man Plympton uster -recognize his fust wife’s third cousins when they came fishin’ for an -invitation to dinner, for old times’ sake, his fourth bein’ a mighty -fine cook, if I say it as shouldn’t, she bein’ kin o’ mine.” - -“Well, if that’s what you call a compliment, I guess you have got out -of practice entertaining ’em,” chuckled Mrs. Grant. “But now get into -dry clothes, every man Jack of you!” And out she bustled, closing the -door behind her. - -For ten minutes the living-room resembled nothing so much as the -locker room of an athletic field. Crowding before the fire, the boys -ripped off their wet garments, plied the big towels vigorously, and -then, warm and glowing, slipped into the emergency costumes awaiting -them. The results surely were picturesque, but nobody minded trifles -like a shirt three sizes too big or trousers that came only a little -below knees. - -“Ready?” called Mrs. Grant from the dining-room. - -Sam ran an eye over his company. Poke wagged his head solemnly. - -“In all my life,” he said, “I never knew before what being really ready -for a square meal was!” - -“Yes, ready!” Sam reported; though, as he spoke, he saw that Tom -Orkney, withdrawn a little from the others, was standing close to a -window and inspecting something he held in his hand. Still, as Tom had -made as full a toilette as anybody else, Sam saw no reason to delay on -his account. - -“Yes, ma’am, ready!” he repeated more loudly. - -The door swung, and the boys trooped into the dining-room, Lon bearing -them willing company. But while they feasted their eyes upon the -well-spread table, their hostess was again making a count. - -“Six, seven--sakes alive! but there ought to be eight of you, not -saying anything of Lon Gates, who’s quite big enough to speak for -himself. And there’s only seven.” Mrs. Grant was moving toward the -door. “Now what in the world----” she was looking into the living-room. -“Oh, there you are! Goodness gracious, child, I should think you’d be -famished!” - -Orkney thrust what he had been examining into an inner pocket of his -coat. Then, blushing and embarrassed, he came forward. - -“I--I must have been so interested in--in something I found, I----” - -“Never mind it now, anyway! Sit right down, and let’s see if you won’t -find breakfast interesting, too.” - -Tom took his place at the table; the others already had taken their -places. Hannah, coffee-pot in hand, approached, and began to fill the -cups. - -Every face brightened as the savory odor of the steaming coffee filled -the room. Poke sighed, but it was a sigh of vast content. - -“My, my, but this is bully! Only I wish----” there he broke off -abruptly and a bit sheepishly. - -“What are you wishing?” Mrs. Grant inquired solicitously. - -“Oh, it doesn’t matter, ma’am. I--I--it was just a fancy.” - -“What kind of a fancy? Tell us, do!” - -Poke reddened; he moved uneasily in his chair. “It--I guess it’s too -foolish to talk about.” - -“But sometimes I like to hear things that may not be so foolish, after -all.” - -The boy hesitated. Then, perceiving that the whole hungry party waited -on an end of this interlude, he spoke, hastily and jerkily: - -“It’s a crazy notion, I know.... Folks don’t do it at breakfast, I -suppose. But--but I couldn’t help remembering that perfectly corking -buster of a mince pie we had yesterday, and wishing I’d come to it with -the razor appetite I’ve got this minute. It was just a notion, you -know, and----” - -There Mrs. Grant stopped him. “What did I tell you about foolish -things that weren’t foolish?... Hannah! Bring it in--we’ll begin with -it, instead of end with it.... And hurry, please do!” - -Away sped the maid to the kitchen, and Mrs. Grant again addressed her -guests: - -“Some people poke fun at pie for breakfast, but over in Sugar Valley -we have a better use for it--we eat it. And this morning I feel like -eating it with special thankfulness for it and every other mercy and -good thing in life. You boys are all alive--I’m going to hear all about -how you happen to be alive, as soon as we’ve attended to having last -night’s supper, and a go-to-bed snack, and this morning’s breakfast, -all at once. The flood has swept the valley, and there has been a -terrible lot of damage, but so far as we can hear, nobody has been -drowned. And if we have to have new bridges down below--well, that’ll -be a good thing, too; I’ve been mortal afraid of the old covered bridge -lately--it was so rickety. So we’ll reckon up our mercies---- Right -here, Hannah; I’ll cut it myself.” - -A chorus of exclamations rose from the boys. The maid had reappeared, -bearing a pie as big, as magnificent, as nobly tinted as the wonder of -the day before. - -“Jeeminy! the twin!” cried Step, admiringly. - -“Right!” said Mrs. Grant briskly. “The story goes, old Dominie Pike -wished mightily that he might have had two pies instead of one, so we -always make up a double allowance. And now don’t wait for ceremony.” -She was beginning to cut the pie with sure and deft wielding of her -knife. “This time we’ll begin with the boy who thought of having pie -for breakfast--yes, serve him first, Hannah.” - -Hungrily Poke snatched up a fork. There was something frankly famished -in the admiring gaze he fixed upon the contents of the plate put before -him. - -“Don’t wait!” Mrs. Grant counselled. “We’ll dispense with ceremony.” - -Poke needed no urging. He was desperately hungry; and, moreover, as -has been said, he was a mighty trencherman. Up rose the fork, well -freighted. An instant’s silence; then one word: - -“Ah-h!” - -If ever vast satisfaction were packed into a syllable, it was in that -brief exclamation. Their hostess beamed; the boys burst into laughter. -Sam, before whom Hannah had placed the second plate, caught Mrs. -Grant’s eye. - -“I--I think I used to be prejudiced about--about----” he hesitated. -“Somehow, though, I think you understand what I mean, ma’am. Maybe I -didn’t appreciate--er--er--you know!” - -“I know! But you’re not to bother your head about that for a second. I -was young once myself, thank Heaven!” - -“Well, I appreciate it now,” said Sam simply. “And I’m mighty glad -I’ve learned how to appreciate it. This whole business--from first to -last, with the flood thrown in--I--I guess I know more than I did,” he -concluded with an effort. - -“I’m surely glad all of you know about Sugar Valley and its legends,” -Mrs. Grant put in quickly, to cover his confusion. “I’ve told you one -story about Dominie Pike. There are a lot of other stories.” - -Tom Orkney spoke from his end of the table. - -“I wonder if some of them are not here, Mrs. Grant,” he said, and -took from his pocket a little book, stained, frayed, dog-eared at -the corners, lacking covers, and with some of the outer pages sadly -mutilated. - -From hand to hand it was passed to Mrs. Grant. The boys could see that -the pages were filled with writing, small, closely lined, in ink which -had faded with the passage of years. - -Mrs. Grant glanced curiously at the little book. She turned the pages, -her interest evidently increasing as she proceeded. - -“Why--why, if this isn’t the real thing--the original diary of Dominie -Pike--but how did you come by it?” - -“I found it in an old house we stayed in till the flood drove us out.” - -The lady nodded. “Yes, that would fit--it must have been the old -Dominie’s house. But this book, now! You know, I told you I never saw -the original, and never knew anybody who had seen it, but this--well, -it certainly fits the description of the diary that’s been handed -down. And the penmanship is just like the Dominie’s--there are some -other specimens in old documents that have been preserved--bills, -receipts, agreements, and so on. And as nearly as I can make out what -it says--yes, it reads as if it was genuine. And I think it’s one of -the first of the set the Dominie is known to have kept. But you found -it, you say?” - -“Yes,” said Tom. “It was in a niche, a sort of hiding-place in the -chimney above the fireplace in an up-stairs room.” - -“I know the room you mean. They say it was the Dominie’s study. He may -have left the book there, or maybe his son or grandson did. But how in -the world did you happen to hunt it out?” - -Orkney hesitated. He was not a fellow of ready speech, and he was -embarrassed by the attention he was attracting. - -“I--well, I can’t explain exactly except that I had a--a hunch, you -might call it--that, somehow, the Dominie Pike story might be more than -a plain story. And when I heard about the lost diary--well, it happened -I remembered it would be awfully good medicine for this crowd if we -could find it. There’s a prize----” - -“Oh!” said Poke sharply and suddenly. - -“There’s a prize we’d like to win for--for a special reason----” - -“Bully old Orkney!” cried Step. - -Orkney raised a hand. “Better let me finish the best way I can--I’m not -much of a chap at such things. Well, then, I couldn’t get the Dominie’s -diary out of my head. So when we had nothing else to do in the old -house, I kept nosing around. In that up-stairs room something made me -suspect there might be a hiding-place in the masonry of the chimney. -My grandfather’s house had a sort of safety-deposit box built into its -chimney, and I got a hint from that. Of course, it was too dark to see -much, but by feeling along and then digging with my knife--well, to -make the story short, I found that book just as we had to beat it--go -away, I mean. So I tucked the book where it would be safe, and when we -were on shore, and there was a chance, I looked it over. And--and you -think it’s the real thing, don’t you?” he added anxiously. - -“Certainly!” cried Mrs. Grant. “I haven’t a doubt that it is.” - -“And you won’t mind our taking it for a while?” - -“Mind? Bless me, child, it’s yours for the finding, and welcome!” - -But Orkney shook his head. “No; it belongs to you,” he said. “You’ll -know what to do with it permanently. We shouldn’t. A week or two will -be quite enough for our purposes.” - -Mrs. Grant looked perplexed. “Well, maybe you understand what you’re -about. I don’t, but that’s neither here nor there. And if it suits you, -surely it suits me, too.” - -“Thank you!” said Orkney very gravely. - -“Yes, thank you!” echoed the Safety First Club with a fervent -heartiness Mrs. Grant perceived but quite failed to comprehend. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI POKE OUT OF BONDAGE - - -The result of the historical essay competition was a foregone -conclusion. Under the conditions, by which facts counted for more than -form of expression, the production of the Safety First Club, entered -in Poke’s name, took the hundred dollar prize, with never a doubt in -the minds of the judges. Tattered and torn as was the diary of Dominie -Pike, it yet threw so much light upon debated questions of early town -history, and added so much information to the local historians’ store -of knowledge, that the award was made with very little delay. - -Poke, it must be said, rebelled at the last, but the club promptly -overruled his objections. Step argued long and vigorously with his chum. - -“You’ve got to have money, and here is money. Don’t be an idiot! What -do you want to do? Turn us down, and be sued or--or something? Want -your folks to know all about the mess, eh? Ugh! Thought you didn’t. -And here you’ve been growling about luck being against you, and when -it’s for you, you’re all for jumping the fence to get away from it. -Say, you make me tired!” - -This was Step’s conclusion, and along with the rest of his argument -served to shake Poke somewhat, and to send him to Sam, as a sort of -court of appeal. But Sam quite agreed with Step. - -“Look here, Poke,” he said. “I know how you feel; how you hate to take -all of what you think ought to be divided among the gang. But it’s the -thing for you to do. That dinner of yours was really a club affair. You -gave it to even up a club account with Varley. So the whole club is -concerned in getting you out of a scrape that resulted from the dinner. -Every one of us feels that way about it--Orkney most of all. So trot -along, and pay the bill, and be happy.” - -Poke drew a long face. “Happy? With just a shift of load? I’ll be out -of debt to the hotel man, and under debt to every one of you fellows.” - -Sam laughed, and it wasn’t a feigned laugh, either. “Poke, you miss -the combination! There isn’t one of us who hasn’t had his full share of -help, one way or another, out of all we went through.” - -“Umph! What did you get, for instance?” Poke demanded. - -“I got a lot.” - -“A mince pie! You’re fooling me--or trying to.” - -“Yes, I got a mince pie,” said Sam calmly. “And I’ll tell you this: I -wouldn’t miss the pointers I’ve picked up in getting it. I know more -about people, and er--er--about motives. And I can see what a fool I -made of myself for a while. And I see, too, how what seem like little -things at the start can lead to big things. Why, it’s like rolling a -snowball that gets bigger and bigger as you push it along. It began -with Varley breaking our rules, and walking into the club. Then came -the runaway, with Varley mixed up in it, and Mrs. Grant’s coming after -us, and my row with the club, and, finally, after Varley had treated us -and you’d treated him in return and got in trouble doing it--why, it -all had to happen to lead us to Sugar Valley. And you wouldn’t have -missed your experience there, would you?” - -“Course I wouldn’t!” cried Poke indignantly. - -“Well, then! What more would you have? Tom Orkney’s as pleased as Punch -to have found that old book, but it pleases him more to be able to give -you a lift. No, Poke, there’s nothing for you to do but make a fair -wind of it, and sail down to the Rainbow Mountain House, and settle up.” - -“You honestly mean that?” - -“Every word of it!” said Sam gravely. - -So Poke, with the prize money supplemented by his own savings and the -contributions of the club, drove out to the hotel, and paid his bill -for breakage, and received a formal receipt, and drove back, a deal -relieved in spirit, and full of projects to make money enough to repay -his friends. - -Paul Varley had not been invited to join in the contribution. He had, -naturally enough, gained a pretty accurate idea of the story and Poke’s -plight, but when he hinted at a wish to bear his share in the relief -fund, Sam rather tactfully discouraged him. Paul understood: it was a -club affair, and he was not of the club, though he was on the best of -terms with its members. He had proof of their regard for him in a very -friendly demonstration in his honor. - -Rather unexpectedly, Paul was called back to the city. It was a summons -by telegraph, and he had to obey it at once. He was surprised and -gratified, therefore, when he reached the railroad station to find the -Safety First Club gathered in full force on the platform. - -Boys, on such occasions, do not make smooth and felicitous farewell -speeches. - -“Quitting us, eh? Sorry!” “Say, old sport, you’ll be running up to see -us some time, of course.” “Paul, we’re going to miss you--you’re all -right.” “What you got on for this summer? Don’t forget old Plainfield.” - -That was the sort of thing they told him, and Paul made reply in kind. -But he had a moment apart with Sam, when he spoke more freely. - -“Parker, I’m older than your crowd, but, somehow, I’ve got a lot of -good out of them. I’ve tried to keep up my end----” - -“But you have kept it up,” Sam cut in. “Why, you’ve treated the lot of -us over and over again, and----” - -Varley interrupted him in turn. “I don’t mean that way,” he said -hastily. “I mean in doing things, in taking the luck that came, in -standing punishment with the crowd. I was what you might call soft, out -of condition, at the start; and a lot of your game was new to me--the -roughing it--the tramps over the snow--the flood--all that sort of -thing. I didn’t want to show a yellow streak----” - -“Yellow streak nothing! A chap that’d take the chance you took when you -jumped for that boat is true blue all the way through!” - -Varley cast a swift glance at the rest of the club; he saw that they -were out of ear-shot, yet he lowered his voice: - -“Parker, you heard me squeal when that crash came--when the big barge -hit the old house? Of course you heard me! Now, honestly, that was just -nerves, but I could have bitten out my tongue a minute after I’d yelled -for help. But it wouldn’t have done any good. You’d heard me; the crowd -had heard me. So I made up my mind that if the opportunity came to -make good for that break, I’d seize it. So when you and I grabbed for -the boat and missed it--why--why--well, we just had to stop that boat -from drifting away. So I went after it. That’s the story in a nutshell.” - -Sam, the undemonstrative, gripped Paul’s hand. - -“It was the pluckiest and quickest witted job I ever saw,” he declared. -“And that’s what every one of the fellows thinks, too.” - -Had Varley had doubts of this, they must have been removed, as leaning -from a car window, he waved farewell to the Safety First Club. For, of -a sudden, the Shark, once his bitterest critic, stepped forward, pulled -off his hat, and led in a cheer that gained in hearty volume from -beginning to end. - -“What’s the matter with Paul Varley? He’s all right!” chanted the Shark. - -“Hurrah for Varley! Rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, -Varley!” chorused the club with a will. - - * * * * * - -The Stories in this Series are: - - THE SAFETY FIRST CLUB - THE SAFETY FIRST CLUB AND THE FLOOD - - * * * * * - -Transcriber’s Notes: - -Illustrations have been moved to paragraph breaks near where they are -mentioned. - -Punctuation has been made consistent. - -Variations in spelling and hyphenation were retained as they appear in -the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors have -been corrected. - -The following change was made: - -p. 153: myself changed to himself (commit himself on) - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SAFETY FIRST CLUB AND THE -FLOOD *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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