CHAPTER XII.

WITH THE BATTLESHIP SQUADRON.

“No sign of the jackies yet, Chief?” asked Don Miller when another half hour had crept by and the afternoon was well on its way.

The boys had emerged from their places of concealment after the artillery officers departed, and from time to time the scout master made good use of his glasses, either to observe what was going on around the fort or else to scrutinize the shore to the south.

“I was just going to tell you,” began Hugh, “that there’s some reason to believe they’re coming right now. I caught a flash from the next station, and you remember the boys had orders to signal us in case the force from the cruiser came along. Hold out for another half hour and perhaps something will happen.”

“Whee! I’m glad to hear you say so, Chief,” whispered Monkey Stallings, who was evidently having a harder time keeping quiet than any of his chums because of his restless nature.

Slowly the minutes dragged along. Occasionally one of the boys would believe he had caught some slight motion in the bushes below. Imagination, however, must have magnified the movements of a rabbit or some other small animal into the cautious advance of a human being, for none of them really saw any one until there came creeping toward them from the nearby bushes a figure that they recognized as belonging to Sam Winter.

Behind him came a second scout in khaki, none other than Walter Osborne, and as Hugh saw still a third, who turned out to be Billy, he understood that the column from the cruiser must be at hand.

Sure enough the white-clad jackies came trailing along, some even getting down on their stomachs in order not to be discovered by the videttes walking the ramparts of the nearby shore fort.

One by one they came with several leading officers in charge until the whole space back of the friendly rocky reef was peppered with uniformed Reservists, to the great wonderment of Bige Quick, who crouched there thinking it the strangest sight he had ever laid eyes on. No doubt he would also believe that to be the easiest five-dollar bill he had ever earned in all his life, when Hugh paid it over as agreed upon.

Everything was now ready for the surprise. They had reached a striking distance of the fort without being discovered. All that remained was for them to notify the artillerists who had been caught napping that they were prisoners of war, according to the rules of the game. And great would be the glory accorded the navy for having played their part so successfully. The Boy Scouts would of course come in for their share of the honors, and nothing would be too good for the eight aboard the _Vixen_ during the remainder of that memorable cruise.

At a given signal the rocks swarmed with men in white uniforms, and as a bugle pealed out, hearty cheers announced that the navy had sprung a tremendous surprise upon the army. This, following the well-won victory of the navy football team only the preceding Thanksgiving, when the army was humbled in the dust, would convince many scoffers that one arm of the Government service seemed to be just at that time vastly superior to the other.

Although the defenders of the fort were very much shocked at the ease with which an enemy had been enabled to creep up and capture their stronghold, doubtless it served as a lasting warning to them in the future. They soon recovered from their feeling of chagrin, and welcomed the naval men with open arms.

While men and officers were fraternizing, Hugh, at the wish of the commander of the expedition, made good use of the mirror again. Getting into communication with Blake Merton aboard the _Vixen_, hidden behind that cape of land that jutted out so conveniently, he forwarded orders that the scout cruiser should steam up the coast and embark the shore expedition later on in the day.

And when they finally did go aboard, after having formally received the surrender of the fort in order to complete the war game, they were a jolly lot of jackies, for success always warms the heart and brings smiles to the face.

The Boy Scouts had by this time become greater favorites than ever. The splendid manner in which Hugh and his comrades had played their parts in spying on the enemy and relaying the information they had succeeded in accumulating until it was received aboard, had quite won all hearts.

When torpedo practice came along again, they were given every opportunity to observe the clever manner in which the deadly missile was discharged through the tube, and to join in the cheers that announced when a hit had been made, although of course the whitehead torpedo had not been charged for explosion.

Other features of the cruise consisted of certain maneuvers in connection with the North Atlantic Squadron of battleships, then first starting in for their late summer gun practice at sea off Portsmouth. Greatly to the delight of the boys they were given an opportunity to observe some of this big gun shooting, in which the gunners acquitted themselves so creditably as to beat all previous records.

As the commander had promised should be the case as a reward for their services in helping capture the hostile fort, Hugh and his mates were allowed to have possession of the wireless for a certain length of time almost every day. What messages those boys did send home, each of them being determined that there should be preserved in the family archives a record of a true wireless message sent by the son of the house from aboard a Government war vessel cruising along the coast.

In return the eager operator up at the tree station on Cedar Hill told them all the latest gossip of the home town, understanding how anxious those eight exiles would be getting by this time for news that concerned their neighbors and friends.

They learned much during those never-to-be-forgotten days aboard the gallant _Vixen_. Each setting sun was viewed with deep regret as marking one day less for their wonderful vacation. And many times did Hugh and the rest declare that the first thing they meant to do upon arriving at home was to send a hearty vote of thanks to Professor Perkins for having been instrumental in securing them this undreamed-of happiness.

“And forever after this I’m going to keep my eye aloft when out on a hike, in hopes of another balloon coming along, where the aeronaut will require a helping hand! It surely pays better than anything I ever ran across before,” was the way Billy expressed his feelings in the matter.

“Lightning never strikes in the same place twice, Billy, they say,” Hugh told him, “but it’s just as well to keep your eyes open all the time, because you never know when you may happen to run across a good thing. Besides, a scout is supposed to be wideawake and on the alert. I was wondering whether Arthur has found time to print those copies of the dancing bear, Jumbo, that he promised us. Next time we get in touch with the Cedar Hill Wireless Station I mean to ask him.”

“At the same time will you ask if the Russian got well enough to go up after his hidden money so that he could start across the sea for his home land?” asked Alec, who had taken considerable interest in the affair, even though fortune had not allowed him to be one of those connected with the rescue of the wounded owner of the hungry bear.

Hugh remembered this, and greatly to his delight Arthur managed to tell, by using their condensing code, of course, how he had actually accompanied the foreigner, at the request of the latter, to get his secreted money, which showed what confidence the poor fellow now placed in every boy who wore that significant khaki uniform.

The man had succeeded in finding the secret _cache_ which he had been aiming to reach on that day when he slipped and fell over the fatal little precipice. And by the time Hugh took this message, the Russian was probably outside of Boston harbor bound homeward.

All this home news, with much else connected with their girl and boy friends, as well as the love sent by parents and brothers and sisters, was eagerly received by the eight exiles. They cudgeled their brains trying to think up the most important messages to send back to Arthur _via_ wireless; and Hugh had to cull out many as impossible to transmit in the limited time allowed them for their use of the apparatus, considering the slow receiving capacity of the scout on Cedar Hill.

So day followed day and each one seemed to bring new experiences to the boys who accompanied the Naval Reserve men along the coast. Once they met with quite a lively storm, and some of the scouts even feared they might never see the dear ones at home again, but good management on the part of those who had charge of the vessel averted the danger.

Then there was a baffling experience with the dense fog that came drifting down from the Banks. There the warm water of the Gulf Stream meets with the colder currents of air from the region of perpetual ice and snow, causing vapor to form almost every day in the year.

No accident occurred during the hours in which the _Vixen_ was shrouded in fog, but they heard the fog horns sounding, and the heavy whistle that told of a liner off her course.

Finally the time came when the _Vixen_ had to return to port, as the vacations of the jackies aboard had about expired, and most of them would have to buckle down to business again, much to their regret.

Hugh and his seven comrades took train for the home town, feeling that their experience with the Naval Reserve on their annual cruise had been a most valuable lesson all around, and one which had brought them new laurels as well.

“It was the greatest time ever,” sighed Billy as he and Hugh watched from the car the familiar landscape fly past as they drew near home. “And chances are we’ll none of us ever have such a glorious opportunity again.”

Hugh did not answer, for truth to tell Billy was voicing his own sentiments when he said this. Yet how little could they see ahead! Even at that very minute events were shaping themselves so as to bring about another combination that was likely to afford certain of the scouts yet another wonderful experience in a new field that none of them had ever dreamed of occupying. Just what that might be it would hardly seem fair to tell at this late point in the story. For the benefit of those readers who have become interested in the fortunes of Hugh Hardin and his chums, it ought to be enough to say that their further adventures will be continued in the next volume of this Series under the title of “The Boy Scouts in the Saddle.”

THE END

Transcriber’s Notes

--Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public domain in the country of publication.

--Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and dialect unchanged.

--In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.)