The Boy Scouts in the Rockies; Or, The Secret of the Hidden Silver MineCarter, Herbert, active 1909-1917
General
The Boy Scouts in the Rockies; Or, The Secret of the Hidden Silver Mine
Carter, Herbert, active 1909-1917
Boy Scouts -- Juvenile fiction; Rocky Mountains -- Juvenile fiction
"And I declare, you seem to be fixed pretty comfortable like," the
other went on. "Just look at the tents they brought with them, Mr.
Rawson. I've always said that on the whole they were better than the
old-fashioned tents. You can see how the heat of the fire on a cold
night is sent back into the tent; and there's aplenty of head-room
here. Yes, both of 'em as cozy as you please."
He had seemed so very much interested in the subject that he even laid
down his tin cup and platter, and gaining his feet, passed over, to
peer into each tent, as if bent on ascertaining what the interior
looked like.
Allan, of course, knew just what this meant. The sheriff was looking for
Aleck, as if he half-expected to find the hunted boy concealed under a
pile of blankets. And yet it puzzled Allan to note that, in spite of the
keen disappointment which would naturally follow a failure to locate the
boy, Sheriff Bob was even chuckling as he once more sat him down in the
circle, and resumed operations on his breakfast.
Something seemed to be amusing him, Allan wished he could tell what.
He felt it must have some connection with the search for Aleck Rawson;
though for the life of him he could not decide what was in the
sheriff's mind.
The talk soon became general, though Artemus took no part in it. He
sent a beseeching glance every now and then in the direction of the
officer, as if begging him to do something; but whatever it might be,
evidently Sheriff Bob was in no hurry, and meant to finish that good
breakfast first, anyway.
Presently, as he emptied his platter the second time, and swallowed
his third cup of scalding Java the officer remarked:
"I know something about the Boy Scouts myself, it happens. Got a
youngster down below that belongs to a troop. Great thing. Teaches
lads lots of the right kind of outdoor business. Makes 'em healthy,
and able to depend on themselves a heap. My kid, he's dead stuck on
this signal business with flags and such. Glad to see it, too. Takes
me back to old times, as sure as you live."
He stopped there, and seemed to reflect. It was as though memories
might be arising that were pleasant to look back upon. Meanwhile Allan
was conscious of something like a little thrill passing through him.
He seemed to feel that this was no accidental mention on the part of
the man with the twinkle in his eye; but in fact, it might have
something deep back of it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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