The Boy Scouts’ Badge of Courage by Howard Payson - HTML preview

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Chapter XII
 How the Test Panned Out

Another day dawned.

The boys had laid out a number of plans for their enjoyment between sunrise and the coming of night. Ralph several times told them not to forget that they were booked for that run in to town after supper, for he was bound to have them hear the “budding nightingale” that Wyoming was so proud of, and who might some day make the name of the town famous.

Tubby coaxed Ralph to get up another fishing party. He wanted to have one shy at those lively bass up in the lake. Andy Bowles, on the other hand, took a notion to spend a little time with the frogs. He admitted that he had grown suddenly fond of the delicacy, and, besides, believed he would enjoy using that fine little Flobert gun.

“Well, don’t lay in too big a stock, Andy,” Tubby warned him, as they were setting off, “because you mustn’t forget we’re going to have turtle steak and soup today. That ought to be feast enough for once, I should think. Still, if you do get a mess of jumpers I’ll help you dispose of them.”

The fishing trip turned out very well, though possibly they did not get quite as many as on the previous day. Still, Tubby had the fun of actually taking the biggest prize of the day, a monster who nearly pulled him out of the boat by his sudden and vicious run after snatching the live bait.

Back again at the house they faced an afternoon to fill in with some other sort of “doings.” Ralph said he would have a few things to do up at his fur farm, and so Rob accompanied him, as did also Sim, the other two begging off as they claimed to be a bit tired.

“I see Pete has been busy since our last visit!” remarked Ralph, as they drew near the high board-fence, and came in sight of the cabin where the hired man lived while guarding the fur farm.

Following his outstretched hand, they made a discovery. There, fastened upon the door of the cabin, was a fresh skin, evidently taken lately, since it had not been there on their previous visit.

“That ferocious wildcat, as sure as you live!” ejaculated Sim, in evident delight.

“Yes, Pete got him, for a fact,” said Ralph. “I knew he would if anybody could do the job. Now my fur farm is safe again from danger. One such cat can play hob with things; once they get a taste they’ll come back again and again until they clean you out.”

The boys examined the skin of the wildcat. It was easy to see where Pete had sent his bullet, for they found a ragged hole back of the right foreleg, showing that the hunter’s aim had been perfect. Pete, coming up just then, was warmly congratulated by all of them over his good luck. Ralph made him a present of five dollars on the spot.

“Why, it was worth many times that to have this thief put out of the running!” he declared when the man showed an unwillingness to accept the gift.

Some further interesting information was gleaned while once more looking over the big enclosure. This time they were fortunate enough to catch sight of a shy mink, though the animal quickly vanished under a rock at their approach.

“We’ll probably never know what sort of success we’re meeting with,” explained the owner of the fur farm, “especially with regard to the mink and otter, until we decide to thin the animals out some day toward Spring. Then by trapping a certain number, and leaving others to breed, we can tell whether the experiment pays or not. I’m not very strong for it yet, but nothing ventured nothing gained, they say; and I’m having lots of experience, anyway.”

Once more back home, they concluded to just “knock around,” as Tubby called it, until supper time. Ralph again reminded them that they were billed for town later on, and would not return until well on toward midnight, it might prove.

“Step aside with me, will you, Rob?” he said in the ear of the scout leader.

It was about the middle of the afternoon. Tubby had gone with Andy over to the pond in order to settle some sort of dispute that had arisen between them concerning the distance at which they had made successful shots; while Sim chanced to be upstairs getting a letter written which he wished to mail that evening—some of them declared it was to his “best girl,” at which Sim had only smiled and winked, though later on it proved to be addressed to his mother.

Wondering what Ralph had on foot to make him act so mysteriously, Rob readily followed him, and presently they were out near the big barns.

“Now I’ve got you guessing on account of my being so mysterious, Rob,” began the other, with a short laugh; “but the fact of the matter is I just can’t get that affair out of my mind.”

“Are you referring to Peleg’s case?” asked Rob.

“Yes!” came the reply. “You see, I used to think highly of Peleg, and it hurts me to be keeping this suspicion against him. Rob, I kind of made up my mind to try him out, test him, as you might say.”

“Well, that mightn’t be a bad idea, though pretty hard on Peleg,” admitted Rob. “Still, it’s better to know the truth and have done with it. What have you thought of trying so as to find out whether he would be guilty of stealing or not?”

“I feel a bit ashamed of doing such a thing, too,” confessed Ralph, a red spot showing in his cheeks, “but let’s hope it turns out a good thing for him. Listen, Rob. Here’s my pocketbook, you see? Well, it contains just eleven dollars, which I’m going to count before you, and mostly in small bills, at that. Now, I mean to drop this where Peleg is bound to come across it, while we watch and see what he does. Are you game for that?”

Rob scratched his head, and made a grimace.

“It does seem sort of cruel, to tell you the truth,” he said, presently; “but, after all, good may come of it. As I said before, better know the worst at once, and then either get rid of Peleg, or else beg his pardon for suspecting him of being a thief. Yes, I’ll go you in the game, Ralph. I know your intentions are of the right sort.”

They shook hands on that. Then Ralph proceeded to bait the trap by dropping the pocketbook in plain sight, where he said he knew Peleg Pinder would soon be passing while carrying out his usual duties, which had to be attended to with clock-like fidelity on that farm where everything was run on schedule plans.

“I’ve baited many a trap for wild animals before this,” Ralph further remarked, with a shrug of his shoulders that told of the dislike he had for the job, “but this is the first time I ever set one for a human being. I hope it’ll be the last one. I don’t fancy doing it at all.”

So they concealed themselves in a convenient place nearby, where their presence would never be suspected, and then waited to see what would happen. Just as Ralph had figured, Peleg hove in sight within ten minutes. He was carrying two buckets of something for the young pigs that had to be fed so many times a day in order to cause them to grow fast.

He came to a sudden pause, and the buckets were set down violently. Another second and Ralph gripped Rob’s shoulder as they saw the hired boy pounce upon the pocketbook with just the eagerness any one might have shown.

It was a tense moment. Even Rob admitted that he held his breath while wondering what Peleg would do with his find. They saw him look around, as though wondering whether any one had noticed him pick it up. Rob almost feared that the boy would hasten to conceal the pocketbook in his shirt, which would be pretty positive evidence that he was tempted to keep it.

Then he saw Peleg draw a long breath. Leaving the two buckets standing there, the boy started on a run for the barns.

“Now what’s he up to?” ventured Ralph, staring after the runner in dismay.

“Isn’t your father out there doing something?” asked Rob, giving Peleg the benefit of the doubt.

“That’s a fact, he is,” admitted the other. “I wonder if Peleg means to hand him over my pocketbook. I forgot to tell you that he must know I’m the owner, because it’s of a peculiar pattern, and he has seen me handle it many times.”

“We’ll stay here a bit until the coast is clear, and then investigate, if that suits you, Ralph.”

After a brief interval Peleg came back again and carried off the two buckets of swill for the pigs. He did not look at all ruffled, or act as if he had any weighty secret on his mind, from which Rob took heart, and believed the boy had done the square thing.

“Shall we look your father up now?” asked Rob, presently, when things had settled down again to their accustomed calm.

“I suppose so,” his companion replied, “but I’m feeling a little shaky, to tell you the truth, Rob.”

“Well, I’m not,” said the scout leader. “One thing about it, Ralph, you don’t want your father to know you had deliberately dropped your pocketbook so as to test Peleg, do you?”

“By no means,” answered Ralph, hastily. “I understand what you’re aiming at, too. So I’ll make out that I’ve missed my pocketbook and have come out to see if I dropped it about the barns this morning. Kind of mean to act that way; but you understand that I want to keep it from dad. If I’ve made a mistake about Peleg, it would be too bad to get him down on the boy.”

Sauntering around the big barns, they presently found Mr. Jeffords busily engaged in mending some harness, a task he always took upon himself, as he was quite expert along those lines. He glanced up and smiled at their approach. Ralph forced a halfway anxious look upon his face.

“Seen anything of my pocketbook, dad?” he asked.

For answer the other took it out of a rack above his head.

“Peleg brought it to me a short time ago; said he had come upon it on the path, and guessed it was yours, because no one else had a pocketbook just like it. Better be a little more careful, son, of your money; it doesn’t grow on bushes, you know,” and, having thus duly admonished his boy after the manner of parents generally, Mr. Jeffords forgot all about the circumstance and commenced speaking of something else.

Rob was satisfied that the little scheme was turning out just as he hoped, and that Peleg had not even been tempted to keep his find. He still felt a little anxiety in connection with the outcome, and soon gave Ralph a signal that they had better withdraw to a spot where the contents of the pocketbook could be examined.

This was easily managed, and soon afterwards the two boys entered Ralph’s den at the barn, where they could have all the privacy they wished. It was with considerable interest that Rob saw the other take out his pocketbook, and his fingers, trembling with eagerness, commence to handle the wad of bills.

“Well, how about it?” asked the scout leader, as Ralph looked up; but really he need hardly have plied the question, for a burning color had rushed across the other’s face, as though he felt conscious of having wronged the one who was under suspicion.

“It was just eleven dollars, I said, didn’t I, Rob? That amount is here to a fraction, and I guess Peleg never even opened the pocketbook, after all, but hurried as fast as he could to hand it over to dad. Well, I’m glad, and at the same time sorry that I did it.”