Chapter X: A Rude Awakening

"The poor little kid!" gasped warm-hearted Lub, as he impulsively threw an arm around the boy they were entertaining as their guest in camp.

Both X-Ray Tyson and Ethan also betrayed their intense interest by sympathetic looks that spoke volumes.

"I don't know that I ever ran across a case just like this," X-Ray remarked, as he turned on Phil.

"You mean that while you've met people who were deaf and dumb you never saw one who was what they call tongue-tied; is that it, X-Ray?" the latter asked.

"Yes, you've got it straight, Phil; but tell me, is this sort of thing incurable?"

"It all depends on the conditions," was the reply. "Some are afflicted worse than others; and then again I believe that if it's taken in hand at an early stage there's much more chance of the operation being successful than if it becomes an old affliction."

"But my stars, why haven't the parents of this fine little chap looked after it before now?" demanded Ethan.

"Well, when you're saying that, just stop and think what you're up against," Phil told him. "We're not down in New York City, where paid doctors visit the poorer sections, and there are wards in all hospitals where such operations can be undertaken free of expense. This is away up in the wilds of Canada."

"Like as not," interrupted Lub, "his folks never dreamed that any remedy could be found to help him get his speech. I reckon now his mammy has grieved her heart sore many a time wondering what would become of a boy growing up to manhood who'd never be able to say a single intelligible word."

"Yes," added Ethan, bent on entering another wedge to the debate, "and money has a heap to do with these things, even if they did know. It costs considerable to send a boy all the way down to Montreal, and keep him there, not to speak of the doctor's big fee."

Phil looked grave, and then a smile began to slowly creep athwart his face. This was discovered by the sharp-eyed X-Ray, for he quickly demanded an explanation.

"You've thought of _something_, Phil; that look gives you away. Now speak up and confide in your chums. We're all just as much interested in this queer business as you can be, I want you to remember. What's caught you?"

Phil smiled in even a broader sense.

"Why, to be sure you have a right to know, fellows," he told them, frankly. "I'm not intending to keep it a secret. I was just wondering why I shouldn't try and take this little chap down with me when we leave here, and see that he has one good chance to have this impediment to his speech removed. We can go to Montreal without a great deal of trouble; and in fact we had decided that we'd visit there, as we saw Old Quebec on the way up to the Saguenay region. What d'ye think of it?"

"I object!" burst out Lub, to the surprise of his mates.

"Why, what's got you, Lub?" demanded X-Ray, indignantly; "I always thought you'd be the last one to kick up a row, when a thing like this was being talked over."

"I object on the grounds that it isn't fair for Phil to take the burden all on himself," continued the stout chum, resolutely, with his affectionate arm still hovering about the small boy, who had cuddled closer to him, as though recognizing a warm friend in Lub.

"Oh! I haven't said I meant to do that, Lub!" exclaimed Phil.

"Well, we know you too well to believe it wasn't in your mind to stand for every cent of the expense such an operation would cost," continued the fat boy. "Course you wouldn't feel it any more'n a flea-bite; but then that isn't the question. You've got to think of us. We cut some punkins in this arrangement, and we insist on standing our share of any expense. How's that, X-Ray, Ethan?"

"Bully for you, Lub!" ejaculated the former, enthusiastically, slapping the fat chum on the shoulder with almost crushing force that made Lub wince, though he immediately forced a broad smile to dominate his rosy face.

"Share and share alike, that's the ticket!" declared Ethan, though doubtless the poor fellow was at the same time making a rapid mental calculation as to the state of his finances, for he had no private fortune, or rich parents, or doting aunt to help him tide over. "I've got another bundle of ginseng roots ready to ship down to my dealer, and if they fetch anything like the splendid price the last lot did I can spare enough to square my share of the bill. And I'll do it willingly too, if it's the means of giving this little fellow the gift of speech."

There never were four boys quite as generous as Phil Bradley and his chums. Fond of manly sport they were, and full of a love for frolic, and such good times as came their way; but never failing to respond to a call for help, no matter what the source from which the appeal came.

Phil threw up both hands as if in surrender.

"You never will let me do anything like this by myself, fellows," he told them; "even when I've got money to burn. But I want to say right here that I think ten times as much of you, Lub, X-Ray and Ethan, as if you did. It means something to all of you to make this sacrifice, while to me it isn't a bit of difference. So I say and I repeat it, that you deserve a whole lot more credit than I ever can. And what's more, I'm as proud as anything to shake hands with such chums."

He gravely went around pumping a hand of each fellow, and there was a deal of sincerity in the act, even though they all laughed--perhaps to hide the fact that there might be a suspicious moisture in their rapidly winking eyes.

"Isn't it queer how we seem to rub up against something of this kind everywhere we go on our trips?" remarked X-Ray.

"Why, so it is," Ethan added; "in the first place, when we were in the Adirondacks there was that old hermit and his little girl, Mazie; we had a hand in bringing them a measure of joy, and reuniting Meredith with his estranged wife. They've been writing ever since how grateful they were on account of the little we managed to do for them."

"Yes," Lub hurriedly continued, "and even around our home town of Brewster, when we were gathering nuts for the children in the orphan asylum remember how we had a chance to help that country boy, Casper Bunce, who had run away from the farmer he had been bound to. The courts fixed all that, and he's got a happy home now on the farm of Miss Bowers."

"Even down on the Shore, when we were duck shooting on Currituck Sound," X-Ray went on to say, not wishing to be left out entirely, "we managed to bridge over the troubles between the young bayman Malachi Jordon, his little wife, and her savage old dad who was separating the couple. When we left they were all bunched and waving us good-by."

"It does seem to be the bounden duty of the Mountain Boys to carry some sunshine along with them wherever they go," laughed Phil; "and to tell you the truth I'm not so very much surprised."

"You mean it's getting to be a regular thing with us; is that it, Phil?" questioned Lub.

"That's what you might call it, when you keep on repeating a certain thing," Phil declared. "There's an old chestnut of a story you may remember that illustrates the point I'm making. It seems that a lawyer was trying to get a witness to admit a certain point that would favor his side of the case, and the old fellow kept on doggedly avoiding committing himself. So the lawyer asked him what he would call it if he leaned from the window and fell out. 'I'd call that an accident,' replied the witness. 'Then suppose you deliberately walked up-stairs and repeated the identical performance, what would you call that?' demanded the lawyer. 'Oh! I should say that was a coincidence,' the witness told him. 'Well, now what if you even went up again, and for the third time looked out of that same window, only to fall again; what would you call it?' And the witness without the least hesitation bawled out: 'Why, sir, I'd say it was a _habit_!' And that's what it's getting to be with us Mountain Boys."

Of course they all laughed at Phil's description of the condition into which it seemed they were drifting.

"It's a habit that gives us a heap of lively satisfaction let me tell you," said Lub, earnestly. "For one I like to look back and think of a lot of things we've had a hand in carrying through."

"Yes," said Phil, "we've enjoyed them to the limit, and the best part of it all is that they leave no regrets behind. I hope it will always be that way with the Mountain Boys."

A little later on Phil took his turn at cuddling the small boy up close to him. He was talking to him in a low tone, and the others, knowing what he had in mind, did not bother him, but conversed among themselves of other things.

Presently Phil called softly to Ethan.

"Come and take him off my arm; he's sound asleep, and my arm is too, so I can't move it. Easy now, and lay him down where he'll be the warmest."

"That's where my blanket happens to be," spoke up Lub; "I've figured on having him with me to-night, Phil; so please don't interfere."

"I guess he'll be snug enough alongside such a hot-box as you are, Lub," interrupted X-Ray; and consequently Ethan gently laid the small chap so that Lub's generous blanket could be tucked in around him.

"Did you manage to find out anything worth while, Phil?" asked X-Ray.

"Well, he's some shy yet; and I'm a poor hand at trying to hold a talk-fest with a child that can't say a single word," admitted Phil; "but I'm sure now he does belong to the people we spoke about."

"Meaning that terror of a poacher, Baylay?" said Ethan.

"Yes," Phil continued, "but until we rub up against the man ourselves, and can testify to some of his awful ways, perhaps we'd better go slow about calling him all those names, boys. He may be a rough man, but what more could you expect up here in this wilderness? All loggers are of that stripe. For one I'm going to form my opinion of this Baylay more from how he treats his family, than from his relations to game laws he considers unjust, or other rough men who meet him on the level of give and take."

"I wouldn't be surprised if there was a whole lot of good sense in that policy, Phil," assented Lub, for it agreed with his ideas exactly.

"But he does seem to have gotten a terrible bad reputation around these districts you'll admit?" ventured Ethan.

"There may be two sides to every story," Phil told him; "and so far we've heard only one. I'd like to know just what that kid over yonder thinks of Baylay; then I'd have a better pointer to the true character of the man than I could get from outside talk. He's a fighter, as nearly all these loggers are. He has licked lots of other scrappers in his time, and you couldn't expect them to say nice things about Baylay. So let's hold off a bit, and not condemn him unheard."

Even Ethan admitted that such a course was nothing more than fair.

"We'll wait then," continued Phil, "till the time comes when we can see into his home, and find out if he's a big brute there or not. Yes, that's the way to learn the truth; surface indications don't amount to much. You've got to scratch a man on the back and find out what he does when he's alone, or with his own family, to learn his real nature."

Though the boys may not have known it there was a deal of sound philosophy in what Phil was advancing; and if more people would carry it out there might be less misunderstandings and suffering in this world.

Some time later on they began to feel sleepy themselves, and Lub was the first one to crawl under his covers. Ethan helped him get settled, for the fat chum had to be unusually careful, so as not to awaken his little blanket-mate, who was apparently sleeping soundly.

The night wore on.

Though the wind outside might be cold and bleak the campers had managed to fix things so well that little of it could find entrance to their shack. The fire was to be allowed to take care of itself, unless one of the boys chanced to wake up in the night, and chose to crawl out in order to throw more fuel on the embers.

It is not the most pleasant task in the world to do a thing like this on a bitter cold night, when all seems so comfortable under the covers. Even Phil might conclude to let it pass, since a fire was so easy to start in the morning, and he could have a merry blaze going long before any of the rest thought of sticking their noses out.

No doubt Lub, and perhaps the others also, dreamed of home as they lay there so many hundreds of miles away from those they loved. It would have been only natural, because their thoughts often dwelt with the distant scenes, even though they might be enjoying every hour of their vacation in Canadian wilds.

If any of them awoke they had no means of telling how the night was passing unless they cared to peep out and note the position of the planets, those telltale clocks of the skies. All of the boys had paid more or less attention to such things, knowing how useful the knowledge can be when there is no watch in the party; and many times they had vied with one another in seeing who could display the better judgment in explaining where certain bright stars would be at a designated hour.

Lub was lying squarely on his back, and breathing so hard that some of his comrades would have reproached him for "snoring" had they heard him. But Lub seemed to be far away in his dreams, and not concerning himself in the slightest degree as to whether he emitted little snorts or not.

From this happy condition, so free from care, the fat boy was suddenly and rudely aroused by a terrifying sound. It was a shout, and undoubtedly came from the throat of X-Ray, who could elevate his voice in a shrill manner that few of his friends could ever hope of emulating. He was the cheer captain of their school football squad in Brewster, just on that account.

And what he now shouted was not calculated to cheer the hearts of his comrades but to send a pang of fear through every fiber of their being:

"Hello! hello! rouse up everybody! Our shack's on fire!"