The Banner Boy Scouts Snowbound. George A. Warren
that he lets his arm hang down in a queer way. Look closer at his hand and you’ll discover the reason.”
Almost immediately several of the scouts cried out.
“Why, there’s blood dripping from his fingers, as sure as anything!”
“He must have cut his arm pretty bad when he fell through that window!”
“Whew! I’d hate to have that slash. See how the broken glass cut his coat sleeve—just as if you’d taken a sharp knife and gashed it!”
“Take off your coat, Jud, please!” said Paul.
Had Paul used a less kindly voice or omitted that last word in his request, the obstinate and defiant Jud might have flatly declined to oblige him. As it was he looked keenly at Paul, then grinned, and with something of an effort started to doff his coat, Jack assisting him in the effort.
Then the boys saw that his shirt sleeve was stained red. Several of the weaker scouts uttered low exclamations of concern, not being accustomed to such sights; but the stouter hearted veterans had seen too many cuts to wince now.
Paul gently but firmly rolled the shirt sleeve up until the gash made by the broken glass was revealed. It was a bad cut, and still bled quite freely. No wonder Jud had run in such an unwonted fashion. No person wounded as badly as that could be expected to run with his customary zeal, for the shock and the loss of blood was sure to make him feel weak.
Jud stared at his injury now with what was almost an expression of pride. When he saw some of the scouts shrink back his lip curled with disdain.
“Get a tin basin and fill it with warm water back in the other room, Jack!” said Paul, steadily.
“What’re you goin’ to do to me, Paul?” demanded Jud, curiously, for he could not bring himself to believe that any one who was his enemy would stretch out a hand toward him save in anger and violence.
“Oh! I’m only going to wash that cut so as to take out any foreign matter that might poison you if left there, and then bind it up the best way possible,” remarked the young scout-master.
There was some low whispering among the boys. Much as they marveled at such a way of returning evil with good they could not take exception to Paul’s action. Every one of them knew deep down in his inmost heart that scout law always insisted on treating a fallen enemy with consideration, and even forgiving him many times if he professed sorrow for his evil ways.
Jack came back presently. He not only bore the basin of warm water but a towel as well. Jud watched operations curiously. He was seeing what was a strange thing according to his ideas. He could not quite bring himself to believe that there was not some cruel hoax hidden in this act of apparent friendliness, and that accounted for the way he kept his teeth tightly closed. He did not wish to be taken unawares and forced to cry out.
Paul washed gently the ugly, jagged cut. Then, taking out a little zinc box containing some soothing and healing salve, which he always carried with him, he used fully half of it upon the wound.
Afterwards he produced a small inch wide roll of surgical linen, and began winding the tape methodically around the injured arm of Jud Mabley. Jack amused himself by watching the play of emotions upon the hard face of Jud. Evidently, he was beginning to comprehend the meaning of Paul’s actions, though he could not understand why any one should act so.
When the last of the tape had been used and fastened with a small safety pin, Paul drew down the shirt sleeve, buttoned it, and then helped Jud on with his coat.
“Now you can go free when you take a notion, Jud,” he told the other.
“Huh! then you ain’t meanin’ to gimme that duckin’ after all?” remarked the other, with a sneering look of triumph at Bobolink.
“You have to thank Paul for getting you off,” asserted one scout, warmly. “Had it been left to the rest of us you’d have been in soak long before this.”
“For my part,” said Paul, “I feel that so far as punishment goes Jud has got all that is coming to him, for that arm will give him a lot of trouble before it fully heals. I hope every time it pains him he’ll remember that scouts as a rule are taught to heap coals of fire on the heads of their enemies when the chance comes, by showing them a favor.”
“But, Paul, you’re forgetting something,” urged Tom Betts.
“That’s a fact, how about the broken window, Paul?” cried Joe Clausin, with more or less indignation. For while it might be very well to forgive Jud his spying tricks some one would have to pay for a new pane of glass in the basement window, and it was hard luck if the burden fell on the innocent parties, while the guilty one escaped scot free.
It was noticed that Jud shut his lips tight together as though making up his mind on the spot to decline absolutely to pay a cent for what had been a sheer accident, and which had already cost him a severe wound.
“I haven’t forgotten that, fellows,” said Paul, quietly. “Of course it’s only fair Jud should pay the dollar it will cost to have a new pane put in there to-morrow. I shall order Mr. Nickerson to attend to it myself. And I shall also insist on paying the bill out of my own pocket, unless Jud here thinks it right and square to send me the money some time to-morrow. That’s all I’ve got to say, Jud. There’s the door, and no one will put out a hand to stop you. I hope you won’t have serious trouble with that arm of yours.”
Jud stared dumbly at the speaker as though almost stunned. Perhaps he might have said something under the spur of such strange emotions as were chasing through his brain, but just then Bobolink chanced to sneer. The sound acted on Jud like magic, for he drew himself up, turned to look boldly into the face of each and every boy present, then thrust his right hand into his buttoned coat and with head thrown back walked out of the room, noisily closing the door after him.
Several of the scouts shook their heads.
“Pretty fine game you played with him, Paul,” remarked George Hurst, “but it strikes me it was like throwing pearls before swine. Jud has a hide as thick as a rhinoceros and nothing can pierce it. Kind words are thrown away with fellows of his stripe, I’m afraid. A kick and a punch are all they can understand.”
“Yes,” added Red Collins, “when you try the soft pedal on them they think you’re only afraid. I’m half sorry now you didn’t let us carry out that ducking scheme. Jud deserved it right well, for a fact.”
“It would have been cruel to drop him into ice water with such a wound freshly made,” remarked Jack. “Wait and see whether Paul’s plan was worth the candle.”
“Mark my words,” commented Tom Betts, “we’ll have lots of trouble with him yet.”
“Shucks! who cares?” laughed Bobolink, “it’s all in the game, you know. There’s Paul getting ready to go home, so let’s forget it till we meet to-morrow.”
CHAPTER VIII
BOBOLINK AND THE STOREKEEPER
According to their agreement, Jack and Bobolink met on a certain corner on the following morning. Their purpose was to purchase the staple articles of food that half a score of hungry lads would require to see them through a couple of weeks’ stay in the snow forest.
“It’s a lucky thing, too,” Bobolink remarked, after the other had displayed the necessary funds taken from his pocket, “that our treasury happens to be fairly able to stand the strain just now.”
“Oh, well! except for that we’d have had to take up subscriptions,” laughed Jack. “I know several people who would willingly help us out. The scouts of Stanhope have made good in the past, and a host of good friends are ready to back them.”
“Yes, and for that matter I guess Mr. Thomas Garrity would have been only too glad to put his hand deep down in his pocket,” suggested Bobolink.
“He’s an old widower, and with plenty of ready cash, too,” commented the other boy. “But, after all, it’s much better for us to stand our own expense as long as we can.”
“Have