CHAPTER IV.

THE CALL OF DUTY.

Billy immediately threw his arms around the nearest fellow who happened to be Monkey Stallings.

“Hear that summons, boys!” he cried, as he hugged the other in his overbounding enthusiasm. “It means Hugh has decided that the scouts ought to go up there in a body, and fight the forest fires! Just what I was wishing would happen! When there’s anything _big_ going on, _we’re_ the boys to get moving.”

“Let me loose, you bear!” gasped Monkey Stallings as he struggled in the enveloping arms of the other. “Do you want to squeeze me to death? Say, you can hug worse than any grizzly that ever came to town. Please don’t try that game on me in a hurry again, Billy! I’m too ticklish!”

“Come on, everybody, let’s put for the meeting place, and find out what’s in the wind!” called Don Miller.

“I’d say it was sure enough wood smoke, from the way it smarts your eyes,” declared another of the group, though no one laughed at his intended witticism, for they had more serious things to weigh upon their minds.

Boys were seen coming on the run from various directions. All of them converged toward the bell, still throbbing its startling message. The cry of Paul Revere in those old Continental days could hardly have thrilled the hearts of those who lived in Massachusetts villages and hamlets any more than the brazen notes of that bell did the gathering scouts.

Some were in uniform, others not, but that was a matter of very little importance just then. They were wild to learn why this hasty call had gone forth; and hoping it meant a chance to enter the fight against the oncoming forest fire.

Not only boys were running, for girls, women, and some men could be seen hastening toward the church. Like wildfire the news would spread that the scouts were going to take a hand in the game, and somehow people had come to place a wonderful amount of faith in Hugh Hardin and his comrades.

True, thirty mere boys could not do much when they tried to pit their puny powers against so savage a thing as a raging forest fire. Still, somehow, those good people had come to feel a degree of confidence in the ability of the troop to accomplish things. Their past history was a splendid one, and on a number of occasions never to be forgotten, they had attained triumphs that made Oakvale very proud to own them.

So from lip to lip went the cry: “The scouts are going out to fight the fire!” Mothers, who had boys enrolled in the troop, surveyed that dark pall of smoke and turned pale with new apprehension. It seemed as though some frightful peril might be hovering off where those fires burned; and while it was right sturdy men should go forth to assist those in distress, each mother’s heart was a battleground of pride and fear as she contemplated the possibility of some disaster overtaking the boy she loved.

The crowd grew in volume as minutes passed. Each scout upon arriving pushed in so as to reach the center of the gathering. When Hugh and Walter Osborne, the Hawk leader, came out of the church, they having been ringing the loud-pealing bell, it was a startling scene that met their eyes.

Fully three hundred people had gathered there. The appearance of the assistant scout master was greeted with loud cheers.

“What’s doing, Hugh?” cried one eager boy.

“Are we going up to the foot of Old Stormberg?” asked another.

When Hugh stepped forward and held up his hand all these voices stopped.

“There is a great need of help up there, they say,” he told them in a ringing tone, “not only to fight the fires, but to save property, perhaps helpless people who have been burned out and are in danger. If we went in a body we might find a chance to make ourselves useful; and so I have decided to ask the members of Oakvale Troop to join with me in the work!”

“Hurrah!”

Scores of lusty voices took up the cheer until the volume of sound rolled along through that entire part of the town. Those women who had remained at home, though still at their gates, with aprons over their heads it might be, seemed readily to guess what that vociferous cheer in boyish voices meant.

The scouts were going! Strange how a little thing like that could give them a thrill, but it seemed to all the same.

“Remember,” continued Hugh, when the clamor which his announcement had caused died away, “it is optional with every one of you whether he goes or not. You can be of great service to those who are in trouble. Still, if any scout’s mother does not wish him to be of our party he should stay at home.”

“No danger of that happening, Hugh!” called out one boy.

“We’ve got the right kind of mothers, and they’ve proved it in the past. Count on a full attendance, Hugh!” another informed him, at which there were further loud cheers.

After that it was hardly to be expected that any mother would dream of objecting to her boy going to the front, no matter how her fond heart might be gripped with natural fears. Pride would step in and make sure that the finger of scorn should never be pointed at _her_ boy.

“Get away home now, fellers,” said Hugh, “and change your clothes. Put on any old suit you’ve got, it doesn’t matter what it looks like. With sparks flying around you’re apt to have some damage done before we come back. Don’t waste any time, but get back here. We start in exactly half an hour.”

He knew that every single boy would be on the run, and eager to get back to the rendezvous long before those thirty minutes had expired.

“Another thing!” Hugh called out as they were starting away, “bring canteens along with you if you have them; and don’t forget your big red bandana handkerchief above all things, with an old campaign hat that will protect your neck from any sparks!”

There never existed a more excited lot of boys than Oakvale boasted about that time. All over town they could be seen running wildly this way and that, with people trying to ask questions which the hustling scouts were too busy to answer.

By the time fifteen minutes had expired a dozen of them had arrived at the designated meeting place, all flushed and eager. One after another the rest came on the run, showing signs of relief at finding they were not too late.

Had any scout been actually left behind on that occasion he would have been the most heart-broken fellow ever seen. The crowd was greater than ever as new arrivals constantly augmented it. A buzz of tongues told that the women were trying to explain how matters stood to those who could not understand what all this excitement meant.

Hugh was keeping count of the boys as they came up. He had them ranged alongside the wall of the church, so that he would know when the full quota had arrived. It pleased him to see how anxious they all were to join their fortunes with the expedition that was about to set forth, bent on a new work of usefulness.

It still lacked five minutes of the appointed time, and yet Hugh believed that every member of the troop who might be expected to gather had done so. Two boys he knew were sick at home, and another was away from town; but the rest were on hand.

“There’s no use waiting any longer, Hugh!” called out Billy Worth. “We’re all on deck, you see.”

Everybody stopped talking when Hugh was seen to step forward again, and raise his hand. This boy had won the respect of Oakvale through his manly qualities. He had even managed to disarm the enmity of certain boys who at one time had striven to throw every obstacle possible in his path.

“We’re going to start off, fellows,” he announced, cheerily; “and it isn’t too late yet for any one who isn’t in good shape to do a lot of work to drop back. Fall in, double file, and we’ll be moving!”

Quickly they obeyed. Not a single boy dropped out of line; indeed, just then it would have required a most powerful lever to have dragged any of them aside. They did not know what awaited them up where that billowing smoke came from; possibly it might mean danger, and surely suffering from the pungent vapor that smarted the eyes, but they believed duty called them, and they were wild to go.

The crowd parted to let them pass through. Other boys who did not belong to the troop cheered them as they walked smartly along, keeping excellent military step.

There were no inspiring notes of the bugle to cheer them this time, no exhilarating throb of the drum to enliven their steps; but nevertheless every boy’s face was an index to the feelings of his heart, and they shone with delight.

On down the street they went, followed by the crowd that seemed bent on seeing the last of them. Never had the scouts presented a more manly bearing, though all of them were shabbily dressed, a few in cast-off khaki suits, others wearing such garments as they could find around home of the kind that it would not matter if they were utterly ruined in the fire-fighting.

Now they had passed beyond the outskirts of the town. The crowd had left them with a parting cheer. Ahead lay the road leading to the region being devastated by the furious flames. Sturdily they set out to walk all the way up to the burning woods in order that they might be of some assistance to those in distress.