right to turn your badge; and he c'd do
ditto, making it a killing of two birds with one stone. Better think it
over, Giraffe."

The tall boy looked at Davy with a frown, and shook his head.

"'Tain't fair to put it up to me that way, Davy," he declared,
obstinately. "You just know I don't want to trade, the least bit. Now,
if you'd say, that on the whole you'd concluded to quit botherin' me,
that would be a good deed, and I reckon you'd ought to have the right to
turn your badge."

At this ingenious return thrust Davy subsided, with a grin, and a
general laugh arose from the other scouts.

But if most of the boys were merry, there was one who looked sober
enough. Of course this was Bob Quail. He knew what a tremendous
undertaking he had before him, and the results seemed so uncertain that
it was only natural he should feel the heavy weight resting upon his
young shoulders.

First of all, he must meet his cousin, Bertha, and learn what success
had followed her efforts to discover whether the paper she had seen by
accident in her guardian's safe was the missing document which Bob
believed Reuben had abstracted, placing another in its place. Then,
later on, he had that appointment with Polly, the moonshiner's daughter,
who was to bring him news concerning the mysterious prisoner.

Yes, Bob certainly had quite enough on his young mind to make him
anything but jovial. Still, he had been more or less interested in what
was going on around him, for he was, after all, a boy.

They were eating supper, as they chatted in this way. Night had settled
down on the scene. It promised to be a pretty dark night at that, Thad
realized, as he looked around him, and then up at the heavens, where a
few stars held forth, but gave very little light.

It was fortunate that Bob happened to be so well acquainted around that
vicinity otherwise he would never have been able to cross to the other
side of the strange little basin which they called a valley, without
carrying a lantern; and this in itself must be out of the question,
since its light would betray him.

While they were eating, they heard a gunshot not far away.

"Wow! what d'ye think that means?" exclaimed Giraffe, jumping to his
feet, and looking off in the gloom toward the back trail. "Seemed to me
like it came from down that way, eh, boys."

"It sure did," announced Davy Jones, positively.

"And it was a gun in the bargain, with a big load. What d'ye s'pose they
could find to shoot at in the dark?" demanded Step Hen.

"Oh! lots of things," replied Allan. "If a bobcat jumped in on us right
now, we'd think of using our gun, wouldn't we? But it might be that shot
was some sort of signal, after all."

"There wasn't any answer, that's sure," interposed Bumpus.

"But seems to me I can hear somebody talking pretty loud that way,"
observed the listening Thad.

"I did too," declared Smithy; "but it's died away now, as though the
excitement might be over. I wonder what it was, fellows?"

"Chances are, we'll never know," returned Giraffe, settling back once
more to continue eating, for he was not yet through.

"Lots of queer things are happening all around us, that we'll never
know," remarked Step Hen, seriously.

Thad looked at him curiously. This was a strange remark to come from the
happy-go-lucky Step Hen. It looked as though his one little experience
of that morning had indeed done wonders toward causing the careless lad
to turn over a new leaf. He was beginning to _think_, and see what a
great big world this is after all. His horizon had been moved back
hugely since he first yawned, and stretched, that same morning.

And the queer part of it was that no one thought to joke the boy about
his altered disposition. They seemed to understand that it was no joking
matter. Doubtless Step Hen's reformation would not be accomplished in a
day, nor a week, nor even a month; but he had taken the first step, and
from now on must begin to arouse himself to making a good use of the
faculties with which a kindly Nature had endowed him.

"Listen!" exclaimed Thad, a little while later, just as they were about
done supper.

"I heard somebody talking, too!" declared Davy Jones; while Allan showed
by his manner that the sounds had surely come to his acute hearing,
trained by long service in the piney woods of his native state.

"They're comin' this way, too; I c'n hear 'em pushin' through the
bushes, and stumblin' along too." Bumpus declared, in an awed tone;
looking a trifle worried, and wishing Thad would only snatch up that
gun, lying against the tree trunk, which the other did not seem at all
anxious to do.

The voices drew steadily nearer, as the boys stood and listened.

"Hyar's a fire, Nate; we gut ter git him thar, sure's anything. I tell
yuh he'll never be able tuh walk 'crost tuh the doc's cabin. He'll bleed
tuh death long 'foah we gits thar with 'im. Steady now, Cliff; hyah's a
light, an' we kin see how bad yuh is hurt!"

Then, while the scouts stood and stared in amazement, a group of three
men staggered into view, two of them assisting the third, whose
faltering steps showed that he must have been injured, even if the arm
that dangled helplessly at his side had not told the tale of a serious
gunshot wound!

No wonder that the Boy Scouts felt a thrill as they watched these rough
mountaineers enter their camp in this strange way.




CHAPTER XXI.

"BE PREPARED!"


"WHEE!"

It was Bumpus who gave utterance to this exclamation, though possibly he
hardly realized, himself, that he was saying anything, as he stood
there, and gaped at the sight of the wounded mountaineer being helped
along into their camp.

But if Bumpus, and some of the others, were spell-bound by what they
saw, gazing as though fascinated at the blood dripping from the man's
fingers, Thad Brewster was not included in this group.

He had long ago picked up a smattering of knowledge connected with a
surgeon's duties; and ever since taking up the new life of a Boy Scout,
those things which concerned the saving of human life had somehow
appealed to young Thad with redoubled force.

More than once now had he been called upon to show what he knew along
these lines. A boy had been severely cut by an ax he was carelessly
wielding in camp; and might have bled to death only for the energetic
actions of Thad, who knew just how to secure a stout bandanna
handkerchief around above the wound, with the knot pressing on the
artery; and making a tourniquet by passing a stick through the folds of
the rude bandage, twist until the bleeding was temporarily stopped, and
the boy could be taken to a doctor.

Another time it had been a case of near drowning, when Thad, who had
learned his lesson well, succeeded in exercising the lad's arms, after
laying him on his chest and pressing his knee upon him, until he had
started the lungs to working. In that case every one of the other scouts
declared that only for these prompt applications of scout knowledge the
unfortunate one would surely have died.

And so, when he saw that the man who was being thus supported into their
camp had been shot in the arm, and was in danger of bleeding to death,
the surgeon instinct in Thad Brewster came immediately to the surface.

He never once thought about the fact that the man was very probably one
of those very lawless moonshiners, whose presence all around had
virtually marooned himself and chums in the heart of the mountains. He
was a man, and in trouble; and perhaps Thad could be of some help!

And so the generous-hearted boy sprang forward, eager to lend a hand.

"Bring him right up to the fire, men!" he exclaimed. "What happened to
him? Was he shot? We heard a gun go off a little while ago, and wondered
what it meant."

The two men urged their injured companion forward. He seemed to have
little mind of his own in the matter; though Thad could see that he had
his jaws set, and was apparently determined to betray no sign of
weakness in this terrible hour. The customary grit of the North Carolina
mountaineer was there, without fail. It showed in the clenched hand, the
grim look on his weather-beaten face, as well as in those tightly closed
teeth.

"Yep, 'twar an accident," almost fiercely replied one of the men, whom
Thad now recognized as the fellow whom they had met driving the vehicle
that Bob declared had kegs of the illicit mountain dew hidden under the
straw--Nate Busby. "We was walkin' thro' ther woods w'en a twig cort the
trigger o' my gun, and she hit Cliff in the arm, makin' a bad hurt.
Reckons as how he never kin hold out till we-uns git him acrost ter ther
doc's cabin."

"You could, if we managed to stop that bleeding," said Thad, eagerly.
"Bring him over here, and let me take a look, men. I've done a little
something that way. And perhaps you don't know it; but all Boy Scouts
are taught how to shut off the flow of blood. There, set him down, and
help me get his coat off. There's no time to lose."

"Nope, thar's sure no time tuh lose," muttered the wretched Nate, who
was undoubtedly feeling very keenly the fact that it had been _his_ gun
that had been discharged through accident, causing all this trouble; and
that if the man died, his relatives might even want to hold the unlucky
owner of that weapon to account for his carelessness, inexcusable in one
who had been mountain born and bred.

They sat the wounded man down as gently as though he had been a babe;
after which Nate assisted Thad to take the ragged coat off.

Some of the scouts crowded close, though with white faces; for the sight
of blood is always enough to send a cold chill to the hearts of those
unaccustomed to the spectacle. But Allan was an exception; and strangely
enough, there was Smithy, whom no one would ever have expected to show
the least bit of nerve, evidently ready to lend the amateur surgeon a
helping hand, if he called for recruits. It often takes a sudden
emergency call like this to show what is under the veneered surface of a
boy. Smithy had always been deemed rather effeminate; yet here he could
stand a sight that sent the cold shivers chasing up and down the spines
of such fellows as Giraffe, Davy Jones, and Step Hen, and almost
completely upset poor Bumpus.

"Get me one of those stout bandages I brought along, Allan, please,"
said Thad, when he could see what the terrible nature of the wound was;
"you know where they are. And Smithy, will you hand me that stick
yonder?"

In a brief space of time the several articles were at the service of the
boy, who first of all made a good-sized knot in the handkerchief, after
wrapping it around the man's arm _above_ the wound; and then, inserting
the stout stick, he began twisting the same vigorously.

It must have pained tremendously, but not a whimper, not a semblance of
a groan did they hear from the bearded lips of the wounded mountaineer.
Indeed, he seemed to arouse himself sufficiently to watch the confident
operations of the young surgeon with a rising curiosity; and Thad
thought he could detect a slight smile on his dark face.

As for Nate and the other rough man, they stared as though unable to
believe their eyes, to thus see a mere boy so wonderfully able to do
what was necessary in a case of life and death. Every little movement
did they follow with wrapt attention. No doubt, a great relief had
already commenced to rise up in the heart of Nate, as hope again took
hold upon him. If the other survived the shock, and loss of blood, it
would not be so bad; and trouble might not come home to him on account
of his liability for the accident.

Thad soon knew that he had done the right thing. The knot had been
properly placed, so that the pressure upon the artery above the wound
prevented any more blood being pumped that way by the excited action of
the man's heart.

"There," he remarked, in a satisfied way, "I guess we've got the
bleeding held up, and you can get him to a doctor, if, as you say, there
is one across the valley. I'm going to bind this stick so it can't come
loose while you're