“Too bad they didn’t use it all that way,” he said. “Now, look here,
boys; I’ve heard how you rigged up ropes and slung--slung one of your
number over the cliff----”
“That was me, sir,” interrupted Dan modestly.
“Whoever it was, it was a foolhardy and dangerous piece of business.
You might have fallen and broken your neck. I’ll confess to a feeling
of admiration for the pluck displayed, but I have no sympathy for the
achievement. I am responsible for the welfare of you boys while you’re
here in this camp. How do you suppose I could have faced your folks,
Speede, if you had injured yourself?”
“I don’t think the danger was so great as you think, sir,” answered
Dan. “We--we took every precaution.”
The Chief sniffed audibly. “The only sensible precaution would have
been to have an ambulance waiting at the bottom,” he said dryly. “If
you had to endanger your limbs--and I confess I can’t see the necessity
of it--I’d prefer you did it in some better cause. In plain language,
what you committed was an act of vandalism. To daub up the scenery with
a lot of blue paint is nothing else. It shows not only mighty poor
taste, but selfishness as well. The Lord put that cliff there to be a
part of the natural scenery, for people to look at and enjoy. And when
you deface it you are depriving others of their rights, merely to give
yourselves an instant’s selfish satisfaction.”
He paused and awaited a reply; finally:
“It was Wickasaw started it, sir,” said Tom. “They painted their name
there first, and they hadn’t any business doing that, sir; and so----”
“And so you thought you had to outrage good taste also? A very poor
excuse, Ferris. Now I want you to promise never to attempt anything of
the sort again. And I want you to promise, too, that whenever, not only
while you’re here but all your lives, you know of an attempt on the
part of any one to deface the natural scenery, you will do all in your
power to prevent it. What do you say?”
“I’ll promise, sir,” said Bob, and the others chimed in.
“Very well. I am pretty certain you went about this thing thoughtlessly,
and I don’t want to be hard on you; but at the same time I can not
altogether overlook it. Let me see; you asked for permission, didn’t
you, to take dinner at the Inn?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And I gave it. Now I fancy you accord me the right of retracting that
permission, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” said Nelson softly.
“Yes; well, I think you had better stay in camp the rest of the day.
That’s all, boys.”
“Mr. Clinton,” said Tom, as they replaced their chairs, “please, sir,
will you stop at the Inn landing for my aunt? I told her we’d be over
to dinner and take her on the launch afterward, and I guess she’ll be
worried.”
“H’m. I’d forgotten your aunt was here, Ferris. When does she return to
the city?”
“First train in the morning, sir.”
“Well, you may come along on the launch, I guess, all of you. But no
going to the Inn for dinner, you understand.”
“No, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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