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The Boy Scouts on Belgian Battlefields Part 23

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"We'll wait a bit till the light gets stronger," Rob counseled, knowing full well that when it came to it Tubby would summon the necessary resolution to cross over, especially if his comrades showed the way.

A quarter of an hour elapsed. By that time they could see across fairly well.

"First of all," Rob summed up, "there doesn't seem to be anybody over there to bother us, that I can notice."

"And the way across isn't so bad, that I can see," announced Merritt, princ.i.p.ally to help buoy up the sinking heart of poor Tubby. "Why, all of us have done stunts worse than that. You know we have, Tubby, many a time."

"Well," Tubby answered him weakly, "just as you say, boys. I'm in your hands. I promise to do the best I can to get over; but, if I _should_ slip, please get me out of the river as soon as you can. You know I'm not a cracking good hand at swimming."

Of course they promised, and cheered him up by every means possible; but it was with many doubts that in the end Tubby consented to start forth on the trip.

Rob led the way, and after him came the fat chum, with Merritt bringing up the rear. There was a method in this arrangement, for, while the pilot could test each girder, so as to p.r.o.nounce it secure, the rear guard was able to keep an eye on luckless Tubby, and even give him an occasional word of advice.

Now that the morning had arrived they could see better with each pa.s.sing minute; and Rob soon declared there was no necessity for any further delay.

It was always a principle with him to grapple with a difficulty, and carry out his plans, without letting anything like dismay seize hold of his heart.

Accordingly Rob now made a start.

"Why, this is dead easy," was the way he sung out, after he had pa.s.sed along the swaying girder for a little distance. "All you have to make sure of is that your grip is sound. Then keep hunching along, foot by foot. And don't look down any more than you can help, because it might make you dizzy."

Tubby shut his teeth hard, and began to follow after the pilot. He made good progress until he had about reached the middle of the rocking span.

Then Rob was really alarmed to hear a sudden loud cry, and feel his slender hold shaken violently.

Something had certainly happened to unfortunate Tubby!

CHAPTER XXII.

SCOUT TACTICS.

Just as he feared, when Rob managed to turn around and look back, he found that Tubby had gone and done it again. Whether he had missed his footing, or something had given way under his additional weight, was a question that could not be decided.

Before Merritt, close in his rear, could thrust out a helping hand, poor Tubby had fallen. The river was all of thirty feet below, and just there the water looked unusually unpleasant, because it had considerable foam on the surface, there being a shallow rift above the wider stretch.

By the merest accident in the world, Tubby's clutching hands had succeeded in fastening upon a loose steel stay that hung downward for ten feet. It must have given the fat boy a considerable wrench when he gripped this, but he had clung with the tenacity of despair.

When Rob turned around, the first thing he saw was Merritt kneeling there on the violently agitated girder over which they were making their crossing. He was staring downward, and, of course, Rob instantly focused his gaze in the same quarter.

He had expected to see Tubby splashing about like a porpoise in the stream far down below; but, instead, was astonished to discover him clinging desperately to that loose piece of steel wreckage.

Tubby had his face turned up toward his chums. There was not a particle of the rosy color to be seen that as a rule dyed his ample face; in fact, he was as white as a ghost. A beseeching look was in his eyes.

Tubby knew that swinging there he was in a serious predicament, from which there would be only one escape if he were left to his own devices.

That would mean he must release his frantic clutch on the swaying steel rope, and drop down into the river, a possibility he shuddered to contemplate.

"Hey! get me up out of this, fellows, can't you?" he whined, for, after his recent gymnastic efforts, he no longer had sufficient breath to shout.

"Clasp your legs around the thing, can't you, Tubby?" said Rob, who saw that the strain on the other's arms must be tremendous, judging from the way he was hanging there.

The advice struck Tubby as well worth following; so he immediately began to work his short legs violently until he found that he could, as Rob suggested, twist them around his slender support.

When that had been accomplished it was much easier for him. He began to suck in some encouragement once more.

"But won't you try and get me up again, Rob?" he asked piteously. "I can't hang on here for very long, like a regular old pendulum to a clock. I'm not wound up for a seven-day-goer. And say, I'd hate to have to drop kerplunk into all that water down there. Think up some way to grab me out of this, won't you, Rob?"

"I'm trying to, Tubby. Keep still a bit, and let me think," he was told.

In one way, of course, it was a ridiculous sight, and that was why Rob winked his eye at Merritt when he thought he could detect a whimsical look on the other's face. Still, it was anything but a laughing matter to poor Tubby, who felt that he had a tremendous amount at stake. Every time he found himself compelled to let his horrified eyes turn downward that noisy stream seemed to be more and more formidable to him. He fairly hated it.

"Can't you climb up again, Tubby?" asked Merritt, who knew exactly what he would have quickly done had he found himself placed in the same predicament.

"I'd like to, the worst kind," the fat scout a.s.sured him, "but you know I'm feeling very queer and weak, so I don't believe I could do much that way, unless," he added quickly, "I had some a.s.sistance from above."

"And that's just what I'm going to try and give you, Tubby."

While Rob was saying this he had unb.u.t.toned his coat. This he proceeded to take off, first making sure to transfer anything he had in the pockets, so that he might not suffer a loss.

"Now, by leaning down here, I think I can reach you with this coat," he proceeded to explain. "If I had a rope, it would be much easier, for with a loop I could make a sure thing of it. But half a loaf is better than no bread, they say."

"Of course it is, Rob," agreed Tubby, who was in no position to quarrel with any measures that were taken for his relief. "But what can I do with the coat when it comes down to me? I don't feel that cold, you know."

"I'm going to keep hold of one end, Tubby," Rob explained quietly, in a way to convince the imperiled scout that everything was working as arranged, and that he need not worry. "With just one hand you get a good grip of the end that's near you; then start in to try and climb, using your clasped legs the best you know how. And don't get discouraged if you only come up an inch or so at a time. When you're within reach Merritt will hang down and lend a hand, too."

All of which was undoubtedly very cheering to Tubby. This thing of having stanch comrades in times of distress was, he had always believed, one of the best parts of the scout brotherhood.

[Ill.u.s.tration: He immediately took a firm grip--and commenced to wriggle the best he knew how.--_Page 247._]

He immediately took a firm grip of the dangling coat-sleeve, and commenced to wriggle the best he knew how.

"I'm making it, Rob; sure I am!" he presently announced. "That time I slid up as much as six inches. It was a bully hunch, that coat racket of yours. Keep her going, Rob, and I'll get there yet. Never give up--that's my motto, you know. I may get in lots of sc.r.a.pes, but somehow I always do manage to crawl out, don't I?"

"Save your breath, Tubby, for your work; don't chatter so much," Rob told him.

Merritt was ready to do his part. He had clasped a leg about the girder to help hold him, and was leaning as far down as possible. Presently the grunting fat chum reached a place where he could be taken hold of, and so Merritt fastened a hand in his coat back of his neck.

"Here you come, Tubby," he said encouragingly.

"Don't let go with your hands or knees yet!" warned Rob; for, should Tubby be so foolish as to do this, the chances were that such a sudden weight might drag Merritt down, and both would take the plunge.

It required considerable effort to finally land Tubby on the horizontal girder, but in the end this was accomplished. Then all of them sat there to rest after their recent violent exertions.

"I don't see how I came to do it," Tubby finally remarked, as though he deemed it necessary that some sort of explanation were forthcoming. "I was moving along as nice as you please, when all of a sudden I felt myself going. I must have grabbed at the air, and happened to get a grip on that hanging steel rope. Well, it might have been a whole lot worse for me! I'm glad I didn't get soused in the river. And I'll never forget how n.o.bly my chums came to the rescue."

"Oh! stow that sort of talk, Tubby," Merritt told him. "That's what we're here for. What's a scout wearing his khaki uniform for if it isn't to remind him what he owes to his chums? You'd do the same for us any old time."

"Just try me, that's all," declared the grateful Tubby; and then, changing his tune, he went on to say: "Here we are, out in the middle of the span, and it's just as hard to go back as it is to move forward.

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The Boy Scouts on Belgian Battlefields Part 23 summary

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