who feared that it had been broken, because a beam had pinned the gentleman by his arm to the ground.
Mr. Garrity, who up to that time had paid very little attention to the Boy Scout movement that had swept over that region of the eastern country like wildfire, looked at the eager, boyish faces of his rescuers. It could be seen that he was genuinely affected on noticing that most of them wore the badges that distinguish scouts the world over.
“I hope my wrist is not broken, though even that would be a little price to pay for my temerity in entering that shaky old building,” he ventured to say as he allowed Jack to examine his arm.
“I’m glad to tell you, sir,” said the boy, quickly, “that it is only a bad sprain. At the worst you will be without the use of that hand for a month or two.”
“Then I have great reason to be thankful,” declared Mr. Garrity, solemnly. “Perhaps this may be intended for a lesson to me. And, to begin with, I want to say that I believe I owe my very life to you boys. I can never forget it. Others, of course, might have done all they could to dig me out, but only a long-headed boy, like Jack Stormways here, would have thought to keep that timber from falling and crushing me just when escape seemed certain.”
He went around shaking hands with each one of the boys, of course using his left arm, since the right was disabled for the time being. Jack deftly made a sling out of a red bandana handkerchief, which he fastened around the neck of Mr. Garrity, and then gently placed the bruised hand in this.
“Was any other person injured when the ice-house collapsed?” asked Mr. Garrity, anxiously.
“A couple of girls were struck by some of the big cakes flung far and wide,” explained Bobolink. “Little Lucy Stackpole has a broken leg. We sent her home on a sled, and the doctor will soon be at her house, sir.”
“That is too bad!” declared the part owner of the building, frowning. “I hoped that the brunt of the accident had fallen on my shoulders alone. Of course, the company will be liable for damages, as well as the doctor’s bill; and I suppose we deserve to be hit pretty hard to pay for our stupidity. But I am glad it is no worse.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Garrity, but perhaps you had better have that swelling wrist attended to as soon as possible,” remarked Jack. “You have some bruises, too, that are apt to be painful for several days. There is a carriage on the road that might be called on to take you home.”
“Thank you, Jack, I will do as you say,” replied the one addressed. “But depend on it I mean to meet you boys again, and that at a very early date.”
“We’re going to be away somewhere on a midwinter hike immediately after Christmas, sir,” Bobolink thought it best to explain. Somehow deep down in his heart he was already wondering whether this remarkable rescue of Mr. Garrity might not develop into some sort of connection with their partly formed plans.
“Yes,” added Bluff, eagerly, suddenly possessed by the same hope, “and it’s all going to be settled to-night when we have our monthly meeting in the big room under the church. We’d be pleased to have you drop in and see us, sir. Lots of the leading citizens of Stanhope have visited our rooms from time to time, but I don’t remember ever having seen you there, Mr. Garrity.”
“Thank you for the invitation, my lad,” said the other, smiling grimly. “Perhaps I shall avail myself of it, and I might possibly have something of interest to communicate to you and your fellow scouts,” and waving his hand to them he walked away.
CHAPTER IV
A QUICK RETURN FOR SERVICES RENDERED
That night turned out clear and frosty. Winter having set in so early seemed bent on keeping up its unusual record. The snow on the ground crackled underfoot in the fashion dear to the heart of every boy who loves outdoor sports.
Overhead, the bright moon, pretty well advanced, hung in space. It was clearly evident that no one need think of carrying a lantern with him to the meeting place on such a glorious night.
The Boy Scouts of Stanhope had been fortunate enough to be given the use of a large room under the church with the clock tower. On cold nights this was always heated for them, so that they found it a most comfortable place in which to hold their animated meetings.
There was a large attendance on this occasion, for while possibly few among the members of the troop could take advantage of this midwinter trip into the wilds, every boy was curious to know all the details.
In this same spacious room there was fitted up a gymnasium for the use of the boys one night a week, and many of them availed themselves of the privilege. As this was to be a regular business meeting, however, the apparatus had been drawn aside so as not to be in the way.
As the roster was being called it might be just as well to give the full membership of the troop so that the reader may be made acquainted with the chosen comrades of Jack and Paul.
The Red Fox Patrol, which contained the “veterans” of the organization, was made up of the following members:
Paul Morrison; Jack Stormways; Bobolink, the official bugler; Bluff Shipley, the drummer of the troop; “Nuthin” Cypher; William Carberry; Wallace, his twin brother; and Tom Betts. Paul, as has been said, was patrol leader, and served also as assistant scout-master when Mr. Gordon was absent from town.
In the second division known as the Gray Fox Patrol were the following:
Jud Elderkin, patrol leader; Joe Clausin, Andy Flinn, Phil Towns, Horace Poole, Bob Tice, Curly Baxter, and Cliff Jones.
The Black Fox Patrol had several absentees, but when all were present they answered to their names as below:
Frank Savage, leader; Billie Little, Nat Smith, Sandy Griggs, “Old” Dan Tucker, “Red” Collins, “Spider” Sexton, and last but not least in volume of voice, “Gusty” Bellows.
A fourth patrol that was to be called the Silver Fox was almost complete, lacking just three members; and those who made up this were:
George Hurst, leader; “Lub” Ketcham, Barry Nichols, Malcolm Steele and a new boy in town by the name of Archie Fletcher.
Apparently, the only business of importance before the meeting was in connection with the scheme to take a midwinter outing, something that was looked upon as unique in the annals of the association.
The usual order of the meeting was hurried through, for every one felt anxious to hear what sort of proposition the assistant scout-master intended to spread before the meeting for approval.
“I move we suspend the rules for to-night, and have an informal talk for a change!” said Bobolink, when he had been recognized by the chair.
A buzz of voices announced that the idea was favorably received by many of those present; and, accordingly, the chairman, no other than Paul himself, felt constrained to put the motion after it had been duly seconded. He did so with a smile, well knowing what Bobolink’s object was.
“You have all heard the motion that the rules be suspended for the remainder of the evening,” he went on to say, “so that we can have a heart-to-heart talk on matters that concern us just now. All in favor say aye!”
A rousing chorus of ayes followed.
“Contrary, no!” continued Paul, and as complete silence followed he added hastily: “The motion is carried, and the regular business meeting will now stand adjourned until next month.”
“Now let’s hear what you’ve been hatching up for us, Paul?” called out Bobolink.
“So say we all, Paul!” cried half a dozen eager voices, and the boys left their seats to crowd around their leader.
“I only hope it’s Rattlesnake Mountain we’re headed for!” exclaimed Tom Betts, who had a warm feeling in his boyish heart for that particular section of country, where once upon a time the troop had pitched camp, and had met with some amusing and thrilling adventures, as described in a previous volume, called “The Banner Boy Scouts on a Tour.”
“On my part I wish it would turn out to be good old Lake Tokala,