Then I grew brave all in a minute and started up to go to them. As I did so, the darkness fled, leaving me there lying on the ground in broad daylight, while the brook sang its loudest and all the trees waved good-morning. Would you believe it? I had slept all night long and dreamed that about the brook and the mountain.

On the way home, I came in sight of the houses of the village before ten o'clock, tired but happy because I had done the last test and now could be a First Cla.s.s Scout.

Benny met me outside the village, and he looked scared when he saw that I was alone.

"Have you seen Bill Wilson?" he shouted, as soon as he could make me hear.

"I missed him somewhere," I called. "He must have come back by the east road. Why? What's the matter?"

He already was hurrying home so fast that I hardly could catch up with him. As he ran he shouted back over his shoulder something that set my heart to beating and made me forget how tired I was.

"Bill hasn't come back."

CHAPTER VII

"BILL HASN'T COME BACK"

ALL it meant to say that Bill hadn't come back did not come over me until I found myself hurrying after Benny down Park Street. Bill had left home on the morning of the second day before, intending to camp out one night and come back the next day. Two nights had pa.s.sed and he was still away. What had become of him?

I hurried along faster and faster, thinking of all the things that might have happened. Mr. Norton and Bill's folks reached the house almost as soon as I did. I don't know how they found out that I had come back.

Bill's folks were nearly crazy about him. The first night out, they expected him to be away, of course, and so did not worry much. When dinner time came the next day and he hadn't showed up, they began to wonder what was keeping him, for the other boys who had started at the same time were home.

When night came again and he still was away, they began to grow very anxious and sent for Mr. Norton.

"I can't understand it," said he. "I supposed that he had come home long ago, and have been too busy to find out. The other three are back, I understand."

"Yes, they came back in time for dinner."

"I am surprised that William is still out, but do not feel alarmed, Mrs.

Wilson. Something has detained him, but it cannot be anything serious.

Both roads to North Adams are well traveled and the farmhouses are near together. As likely as not he stopped to help somebody out of a difficulty and it has taken longer than he expected. One of our laws, you know, says that a Scout's duty is to be useful and to do somebody a good turn every day. I'll run over and talk with Wallace. They started together and may have met when they crossed over from one road to the other."

Mr. Norton was more anxious than he pretended. Wallie said that he hadn't seen him and hadn't heard him, which was worse, for Bill usually could be heard a long way off. Wallie said that he had called to him every few rods when crossing over to the west road beyond North Adams but hadn't heard a thing. It would have been easy for them to miss each other, unless they happened to take the same crossroad.

"I might get track of him in North Adams," said Mr. Norton, after a little. "You see, I gave him a message to deliver to a friend of mine there. He surely will know something about him, but he hasn't a telephone and I think is out of town to-day, anyhow. Maybe I'd better drive up. The boy probably will get back before I do, but it will make me feel better to be doing something."

By that time everybody was getting scared. I mean all our folks were.

Mrs. Wade was sure that Benny never would come home again, although it wasn't quite nine o'clock, the time when he said he would come.

Mrs. Wade is all right most of the time, only she can think of more trouble for Benny to get into than he could find in a week, if he looked for it. Mothers are often that way. I guess it is because they like us so well.

"He said he would come back, if he lived. Those were his last words. And he hasn't come."

She told that to Ma, over and over again.

"He'll come back all right," said Ma, "and so will John, when the time comes."

But she was worried about me, just the same, all on account of Bill. Of course, I didn't know about it at the time. I found out afterward.

No one ever made better time driving the six miles to North Adams than Mr. Norton did that night. Just outside the village he met Benny, coming on a run, and stopped long enough to ask him if he had seen Bill.

"No," said he. "I missed him. The Gang held me up at the Gingham Ground and almost made me late. I told Ma that I would be home by nine o'clock if I lived. I'm 'most dead, but guess I can hold out until I get there.

She'll be having a fit pretty soon if I don't hurry. What time is it, anyhow?"

Mr. Norton whipped up his horse before Benny finished.

"William hasn't come back!" he shouted over his shoulder, just as Benny called to me in almost the same place. Then he tore down the road toward the Gingham Ground.

It was after midnight when he came back. There was a light burning in our house and he stopped.

"He has not been there!" was all that he could say, when Pa met him at the door.

"Hasn't been there!"

"No, I found Jenks, to whom I had sent the message, and he said that he had seen nothing of him, although he had been expecting him. You see, I told him that the boy was coming. The message has not been delivered."

"Mr. Smith," he went on, after a moment, "I can't face Mrs. Wilson with that news. You go to her, while I get the marshal started and see if something cannot be done. I tell you something has happened. I am convinced of that. Young Wilson would have delivered that message if he possibly could have reached the place, and it would have taken a great deal to stop him. There isn't a yellow streak in that boy anywhere."

"Did you make any inquiries?"

"Yes, I stopped at every house along the road where there was a light burning. Not a person had seen him, although several had seen your boy on the way out. At North Adams I notified the police, but I don't know what they can do."

"I'll go to Mrs. Wilson right away," Pa told him. "This certainly is bad business, but we can't do much until morning. As soon as it is daylight we'll send out a search party. There are only two roads, unless he went up through the Notch, which is not at all probable. It ought not to be a difficult matter to get some trace of him."

"I'll tell you where he is," he went on, after thinking a minute. "He met my John and went back to camp all night with him. They will come home together to-morrow; you see if they don't. John is a pretty safe boy. He's full of pranks, like the others, but he is more cautious.

He'll come home all right and bring Bill with him."

Mr. Norton shook his head.

"I sincerely hope so," he said, "but it is not at all probable. Mr.

Smith, I never will forgive myself if anything has happened to that boy."

"You are not to blame at all," Pa told him. "Depend upon it, if anything has happened, and we don't know that there has, the boy himself is to blame. He is a fine lad, but is a little reckless and thoughtless at times. Cheer up. It might be a lot worse. Now, if the boys had gone up into the mountains as they talked of doing at first, there would be real cause for worry."

That was why Benny waited for me outside the village the next day, and why Mr. Norton and Mr. and Mrs. Wilson met me at the house and why Skinny and the other boys came in a few minutes afterward.

Mrs. Wilson knew by my face that I had not seen anything of Bill and burst out crying.

"There couldn't have anything happened to him, Mrs. Wilson," I told her, sort of choking up in my throat, myself, because she was feeling so bad. "I mean anything much. Maybe a tramp locked him up somewhere when he was asleep, or some gipsies stole him. I saw some gipsies up above North Adams and they were going west to beat the band. But he'll get away from them. I'll bet on Bill every time."

When I spoke of gipsies to make Mrs. Wilson feel better it seemed to scare her worse than ever.