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

PLEASE NOTE: This is an HTML preview only and some elements such as links or page numbers may be incorrect.
Download the book in PDF, ePub, Kindle for a complete version.

 

Chapter XXV
 Lucky Peleg

Although thrilled by the announcement, the scout leader’s first sensation was rather one of great joy. He seemed to see the pale earnest face of poor Peleg Pinder rise up again before him; and how glad he felt that through it all, even when the clouds seemed darkest for Peleg, he had continued to firmly believe in the other’s innocence.

Ralph was showing signs of remorse. He realized now that what Rob had said to him about not depending on circumstantial evidence, when charging a companion with an evil deed, was true, since at best it must be an unreliable staff upon which to lean.

Still, there was one delightful thing about it, besides the discovery of Peleg’s innocence; and this was the frank way in which Ralph took himself to task. Such action spoke well for his bigness of heart. Rob felt sure that the young fur farmer would never again allow himself to believe wrong of a comrade without more tangible evidence than mere suspicion.

“So these are the stamps that kicked up such a tempest in a teapot, are they?” remarked Rob, shuffling the various packets between his hands. “The old curio dealer didn’t see them, after all. That’s going to save you a visit to town, I reckon, Ralph. The chances were you had figured on putting your threat into execution.”

“Yes,” replied the other, contritely, “I might as well own that I had made my mind up to run in this very day and learn the truth. I couldn’t stand it any longer, you see, thinking all those mean things about Peleg. Right now I’m wondering how I’ll ever look him straight in the eye again.”

“Oh! don’t let that worry you, Ralph. There’s no need of his ever knowing that he was under suspicion. Where ignorance is bliss, you know, they say it’s folly to be wise. Let things go as they were before.”

Ralph shook his head dubiously.

“I’m inclined to believe there’s going to be a change of some sort in our relations,” he hastened to say, “because of this queer absence on the part of Peleg. He isn’t the fellow to shirk work, and you know we saw him the other day over at the farmhouse where his sister works out. Then there was that talk about him receiving a mysterious letter; besides, we all noticed that he looked excited when we saw him in town; yes, and he even went into the Harris Arcade, where several lawyers have their offices, though I never knew they stayed there after nightfall. But perhaps Peleg had an appointment with one of them.”

By this time he had Rob deeply interested.

“It begins to look as if there might be another mystery connected with Peleg’s fortunes,” he observed, laughingly. “This time we can wait for the developments without being worried. I suppose in good time you’ll see the boy again, or at least have word from him?”

“That goes without saying,” Ralph agreed. “I’ve always found him honest and straightforward. Something he didn’t calculate on is holding him back; but he will show up in good time, believe me.”

It was strange how much brighter the day seemed to Rob after discovering that Peleg was indeed innocent of peculation, and had done nothing that was wrong. Why, the very birds appeared to sing with sweeter notes than before, while the sunshine filled the boy with a joy he had not fully known since Ralph first communicated his doleful suspicions. That is always the way with a scout who has learned the greatest lesson on the books of the organization—to care for his fellows even as he does for himself, because that is the greatest of all commandments. Somehow nobody seemed very ambitious to be doing strenuous things on that particular day. It was pretty hot, for the mountains, and the shade under the long porch appeared to strike them as just right. So they lolled there in easy-chairs, hammocks, and the broad swing as the minutes went past, chatting, telling stories of past experiences, and in this way exchanging views after the manner of boys in general.

Ralph wanted to know many things connected with the adventures which had fallen to the scout leader and some of his chums, not only around their home town down on Long Island, but under other skies—away across the water where the great nations of Europe were fighting the most terrible war of all history; upon the desert sands of northern Mexico; and even amidst the glories of the wonderful Panama-Pacific Exposition out in California.

This giving out of information was not wholly one-sided, either. Ralph had been around considerable, and was able to talk of strange things he had run across down in the Land of Dixie, where he had lived the better part of his young life, exploring the swamps where the weird Spanish moss festooned the trees, and gave such a funereal aspect to the picture; and Ralph could relate numerous amusing stories of the former slaves whom he had known.

So the morning passed away. The big bullfrogs over in the pond piped in chorus, undisturbed by any pot-hunter with deadly Flobert; doubtless, those bass still left in the pretty lake back of the hills rejoiced to know they would not be tempted to take an attractive lure that was apt to have a sharp barb concealed within its midst. For the five boys spent the entire morning in sweet idleness, content to let the hours drift past without exerting themselves.

Tubby, Andy and Sim had heard enough to know that there was something queer connected with Peleg’s actions. Ralph concluded to take them into his confidence with regard to the serious mistake he had come so near making. Consequently the packets of stamps were exhibited, and the sad story told of how a frivolous gust of wind had almost caused Ralph to accuse the farm boy of being a thief.

They promised never to breathe a word of the story. Secretly they thought all the more of Ralph for his genuine self-condemnation. No doubt, it would be a good lesson to all of them; which was really one reason why Ralph, at Rob’s suggestion, had mentioned the facts; for they could see how easy it must always be to think evil of one’s best friend when circumstances arise that seem convincing, although an explanation, if sought, may brush them away as though they were mere cobwebs.

During that morning there must have been dozens of times when one or another of the boys walked to the end of the porch as if to stretch their legs, when in reality it was to look along the road in the direction that a traveler must take if coming from that farmhouse where they had seen Peleg driving up in what appeared to be a hired buggy.

“Here he comes!” suddenly called out Tubby all of a sudden, as he stood at that particular end of the porch.

No one demanded to know who was meant, because the same thought was in every fellow’s brain. They scrambled to their feet from hammock, swing, and easychairs to twist their heads around, and stare in the quarter in which Tubby was looking.

Yes, a vehicle could be seen approaching, with the dust rising behind the lazy shuffling motion of the horse’s hoofs. Apparently, whoever drove was in no particular hurry to get on.

“Why, there seem to be two persons in the buggy!” ejaculated keen-eyed Sim.

“But one’s Peleg, all right,” added Tubby, stubbornly, not wishing to be shorn of his right as first discoverer.

“Just who it is,” Ralph assured them, and he ought to know. “The other person seems to be a girl, and it wouldn’t surprise me now if she turned out to be Hetty Pinder.”

“You mean Peleg’s sister, the one who was working in service on that other farm?” asked Andy, more than a little excited as he seemed to scent something interesting in the coming back of Peleg under such odd conditions.

Mr. Jeffords came out on the porch. Possibly he had noticed the coming of Peleg up the lane that led from the main road; and felt a mild curiosity to know why he had remained away so long; also what possessed him to fetch his sister over from the farm where she had engaged to work.

Rob knew something good was going to come about. He gauged the broad grin on Peleg’s face to mean that he had news for them. The girl was smiling happily, it seemed. Yes, Fortune must have finally consented to beam upon the Pinder family, so long down and out.

“Good-morning, Mr. Jeffords! Good-morning, Ralph, and all the rest o’ you,” said Peleg as he came up the steps, holding his sister by the arm. “I just dropped over to let you know I ain’t agoin’ to work no more with you. Sorry to say it, too, sure I am, ’cause you’ve been mighty kind to me, and I never ain’t meanin’ to forget it, neither. I got a farm o’ my own now, you see, Mr. Jeffords; and we’re meanin’ to have them other three Pinders come out o’ the ’sylum and live to home.”

“Well, this is great news, Peleg,” said Mr. Jeffords, holding out both hands to the boy, and his shy sister, who looked so rosy and happy now. “Tell us all about it, won’t you?”

“Just what I was meanin’ to do, sir,” said the accommodating Peleg, his eyes fairly dancing with excitement and joy. “You see, it came to me ’bout like one o’ them bombshells I heard Rob here tellin’ he’d seen explode over in Europe. That letter I got some days back was from Mr. Green, the lawyer man down in Wyoming. It told me to come and see him that evening, ’cause he had some right good news to tell me. So I goes in, and he shows me a letter he had from another lawyer away out in Colorado. This says that my uncle, Peleg Pipps, had just died there, and in his will he leaves what he’d scraped together to me as his—er, namesake the lawyer calls it.”

Peleg looked proudly around as he said this, just as though he felt it a triumph, after all, to carry the name he did; though possibly on more than one occasion he had ardently wished it might have been plain Bill or Tom.

“This is splendid news you’re telling us, Peleg,” said Mr. Jeffords, still shaking hands with his former help. “What about the farm—is it one your uncle owned out there in Colorado?”

“Shucks! no, sir, it’s the Widow Hawkins’ place, you see, just twenty acres of fine ground that her husband made his pile out o’ before he died. I used to work there once, and always liked the house, it seemed so much like a home. Mr. Green, he fixed it so that half the money that comes to me is agoin’ to pay cash for the Hawkins farm; and the widow, she’s sent word we c’n get in right away. You see, she sold me the furniture and everythin’ as it stands. And, oh! Mr. Jeffords, just to think I got a home now, after all, where we c’n all live as long as we want; and there ain’t ever agoin’ to be no poorhouse in our dreams, either.”

Tubby, and perhaps some of the other boys as well, might have been observed to wink violently about that time, as though their vision had become more or less obscured. Rob was more rejoiced than he could have told, for it all seemed to be coming out like a fairy story, with this almost forgotten old uncle away out in Colorado dying just at a time when the little Pinders, scattered and homesick, were so much in need of succor.

They insisted on shaking hands with Peleg, each one in turn, and congratulating him most heartily on his great good fortune. Then they were also introduced to Hetty, his sister, a rather buxom girl of about fourteen, and large for her age, who gave promise of being well able to act the part of homekeeper when once Peleg had gathered his little brood under the roof of the Hawkins’ farmhouse.