The Banner Boy Scouts Snowbound Part 6

"A mean fellow like you, Jud Mabley," a.s.serted Joe Clausin, "deserves the worst sort of punishment that could be managed. Why, it would about serve you right if you got a lovely coat of tar and feathers to-night."

Jud seemed to shrink a little at hearing that.

"You wouldn't dare try such a game as that," he told them, with a faint note of fear in his voice. "Every one of you'd have to pay for it before the law. Some things might pa.s.s, but that's goin' it too strong. My dad'd have you locked up in the town cooler if I came home lookin' like a bird, sure he would."

Jud's father was something of a local power in politics, so that the boy's boast was not without more or less force. Some of the scouts may have considered this; at any rate, one of them now broke out with:

"A ducking ought to be a good enough punishment for this chap, I should say; so, fellows, let's start in to give it to him."

"I know where I can lay hands on an axe all right, to chop a hole through the ice," a.s.serted Bobolink, eagerly.

"Then we appoint you a committee of one to supply the necessary tools for the joyous occasion," Red Collins cried out, gleefully falling in with the scheme.

"Hold on, boys, don't you think it would be enough if Jud made an apology to us, and promised not to breathe a word of what he chanced to hear?"

It was Horace Poole who said this, for he often proved to be the possessor of a tender heart and a forgiving spirit. His mild proposition was laughed down on the spot.

"Much he'd care what he promised us, if only we let him go scot free,"

jeered one scout. "I've known him to give his solemn word before now, and break it when he felt like it. I wouldn't trust him out of my sight. Promises count for nothing with one of Jud Mabley's stamp."

"How about that, Jud?" demanded another boy. "Would you agree to keep your lips b.u.t.toned up, and not tell a word of what you have heard?"

"I ain't promisin' nothin', I want you to know," replied the prisoner, boldly; "so go on with your funny business. You won't ketch me squealing worth a cent. Honest to goodness now I half b'lieve it's all a big bluff. Let's see you do your worst."

"Drag him along to the river bank, fellows, and I'll join you there with the axe," roared Bobolink, now fully aroused by the obstinate manner of the captive.

"Wait a bit, fellows."

It was Jack Stormways who said this, and even the impetuous Bobolink came to a halt.

"Go on Jack. What's your plan?" demanded one of the group.

"I was only going to remind you that in the absence of Mr. Gordon, Paul is acting as scout-master, and before you do anything that may reflect upon the good name of Stanhope Troop you'd better listen to what he's got to say on the subject."

CHAPTER VII

PAUL TAKES A CHANCE

These sensible words spoken by Jack Stormways had an immediate effect upon the angry scouts, some of whom realized that they had been taking matters too much in their own hands. Paul had remained silent all this while, waiting to see just how far the hotheads would go.

"First of all," he went on to say in that calm tone which always carried conviction with it, "let's go back to the meeting-room, and take Jud along. I have a reason for wanting you to do that, which you shall hear right away."

No one offered an objection, although doubtless it was understood that Paul did not like such radical measures as ducking the spy who had fallen into their hands. They were by this time fully accustomed to obeying orders given by a superior officer, which is one of the best things learned by scouts.

Jud, for some reason, did not attempt to hold back when urged to accompany them, though for that matter it would have availed him nothing to have struggled and strained, for at least four st.u.r.dy scouts had their grip on his person.

In this manner they retraced their steps. Fortunately the last boy out had been careful enough to close the door after making his hurried exit, so that they found the room still warm and comfortable.

They crowded inside, and a number of them frowned as they glanced toward the broken window, through which a draught was blowing. They hoped Paul would not be too easy with the rascal who had been responsible for that smash.

"First of all," the scout-master began as they crowded around the spot where he and Jud stood, the latter staring defiantly at the frowning scouts, "I want to remark that it needn't bother us very much even if Jud tells all he may have heard us saying. We shall always be at least two to one, and can take care of ourselves if attacked. Those fellows understand that, I guess."

"We've proved it to them in the past times without number, for a fact," observed Jack, diplomatically.

"If they care to spend a week in the snow woods, let them try it,"

continued the other. "Good luck to them, say I; and here's hoping they may learn some lessons there that will make them turn over a new leaf. The forest is plenty big enough for all who want to breathe the fresh air and have a good time. But there's another thing I had in mind when I asked you to bring Jud back here. Some of you may have noticed 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 gla.s.s 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 a.s.sisting 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 gla.s.s 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, b.u.t.toned 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.