The scoutmaster laughed. "You bet," he said.

"Are there wild animals in that camp?"

"Scouts are all wild animals," the scoutmaster laughed again.

"Am I a wild animal?"

"Surest thing you know."

"Are you?"

"That's what."

"Is that fellow that's inside lying on the seat--is he dead?"

"No--not dead. But you mustn't go in and bother him."

The scene about the bridge was one of utter ruin. No vestige of the rustic structure was left; it had probably been carried away in the first overwhelming rush of water. The flood had subsided by now, and only a trickle of water pa.s.sed through the gully. In this, and upon the sloping banks and the wreckage which had been Ebon Berry's garage, the scouts climbed about and explored the scene of devastation.

After a while a scoutmaster and several boys arrived from camp by way of the road. They had fought their way through mud and storm, bringing stretchers and a first aid kit, in expectation of finding disaster.

"This is not a very cheerful welcome to camp," one of the scoutmasters said. "The lake broke through up yonder. The boys have checked the flood with a kind of makeshift dam. We were afraid you had met with disaster.

All safe and sound, are you?"

"Oh, yes, several of our boys went ahead and one of them shouted for us to stop----"

"That's the one right there," piped up the little fellow. "Maybe he'll get a reward, hey? Maybe he'll get a prize."

"I guess we're all safe and sound," said the other arriving scoutmaster; "but wet and hungry----"

"Especially hungry," one of the scouts said.

"That's a common failing here," said the man from camp.

"There's a funny fellow inside; want to see him?" piped up Goliath. "He hasn't got any clothes hardly, and he don't know what he's talking about; he hasn't got any conscience----"

"He means he's unconscious," said the scoutmaster. "We ran into him on the road. He really hasn't spoken yet, so we don't know anything about him. He seems a kind of victim of the storm--crazed. I think it just possible he intended--Come inside, won't you? I think we'll have to take him with us on a stretcher. I suppose he belongs in the countryside hereabouts."

Thus it was that Hervey's own scoutmaster looked down upon the unconscious form of his most troublesome and unruly scout. It was no wonder that the others had not thought him a scout. He looked more like a juvenile hobo. But sticking out of his soaking pocket was that one indubitable sign of identification, his rimless hat cut full of holes and decorated with its variety of badge b.u.t.tons. Ruefully, Mr. Denny lifted this dripping masterpiece of original handiwork, and held it between his thumb and forefinger.

"This is one of our choicest youngsters," he said. "He is in my own troop. The last time I saw him, I explicitly told him not to leave camp without my permission. I suppose he has been on some escapade or other.

I think he's about due for dismissal----"

"I don't think he's seriously injured, sir."

"Oh, no, he has a charmed life. Nine lives like a cat, in fact. Well, we'll cart him back."

"He doesn't look like a scout fellow," Goliath said.

"Well, he isn't what you would call a very good scout fellow, my boy,"

Mr. Denny said. "Good scout fellows usually know the law and obey it, if anybody should ask you."

"If they ask me, that's what I'll tell 'em," said Goliath, "hey?"

"You can't go far wrong if you tell them that," Mr. Denny said.

"And they have to save lives too, don't they?" the little codger piped up.

"Why, yes, you seem to have it all down pat," Mr. Denny said.

"We've got one of them in our troop," the little fellow said; "he's a hero."

"Well, I hope he reads the handbook and obeys the scout laws," said Mr.

Denny significantly.

"I'm always going to have good luck," the little fellow said, rather irrelevantly. "I got a charm, too. Want to see it?"

"I think we'd better see if we can get to camp and find some hot stew,"

said Mr. Denny.

"That's the kind of a charm for me," said one of the scouts.

So it fell out that on this occasion, as on most others, Goliath was not permitted to dig down into the remote recess of his pocket to show that wonderful charm.

CHAPTER XI

THE NEW SCOUT

"Well," laughed Mr. Baxton, scoutmaster of the troop to which that little brownie of a boy belonged; "since we have a hero, we may as well use him. Suppose you stay here, Gilbert, and stop any vehicles that happen along."

"I think one of our boys from camp ought to do that," said one of the other scoutmasters. "How about you, Roy?"

The boy addressed was of a compact, natty build, with brown curly hair, and with the kind of smile which was positively guaranteed not to wash out in a storm. On his nose, which was of the aggressive and impudent type, were five freckles, set like the stars which form the big dipper, and his even teeth, which were constantly in evidence, were as white as snow. Across the bridge of his nose was a mark such as is seen upon the noses of persons who wear spectacles. But he wore no spectacles, though the imprint between his laughing, dancing eyes was said to have been caused by gla.s.ses--soda water gla.s.ses which were continually tipped up against his nose in obedience to the dictum that a scout shall be thorough.

"We'll both stay," he said; "if a Ford comes along we'll carry it across."

"Well, don't leave the spot, that's all," said Mr. Denny.

"Far be it from such," said Roy. "If we go away we'll take it with us.

We should worry our young lives about a spot. Only save some stew for us. This night has been full of snap so far, it reminds me of a ginger-snap. We'll sit in one of those old cars, hey?"

Gilbert Tyson stared at Roy. He thought it wouldn't be half bad to stay here with this sprightly scout. The rest of the party, guided by Mr.

Denny, started picking their way along the road to camp, carrying Hervey on a stretcher. Darby Curren, the stage-driver, doubtless tempted by the mention of hot stew, unharnessed his team and leaving the horses to graze in the adjacent field, accompanied the party. Roy and Gilbert Tyson watched the departing cavalcade till it was swallowed in darkness.

The rain had ceased now, and the wind was dying. In the sky was a little silvery break, and by its light flaky clouds were seen hurrying away, all in one direction like a flock of birds. It seemed as if they might be fleeing quietly from the wreck which they had caused.