The Human Boy and the War Part 5

But the policeman wouldn't.

"He's as slippery as an eel," he said, "and I've been waiting to cop him red-'anded for a fortnight. So now you'd better come and overtake him, for he's lame and can only crawl along. And when I talk to him, you'll be surprised."

"You're utterly wrong," Travers minor told the policeman. "You're quite on the wrong scent, and if you interfere with that man, you'll very likely ruin your own career in the Force. He's much more powerful than you think."

But the policeman said he'd chance that, and then, in the name of the law, he made us come and help him.

It was a most curious experience. When we got there, the spy had disappeared, and the policeman, knowing that he could only go about one mile an hour, said he must be hidden somewhere near.

"And if you chaps are any good as scouts, now's your chance to show it,"

he said.

By this time I began to believe the policeman, for he was a big man and very positive in his speech; but Travers hated him, and if he'd found the spy, I believe he would have said nothing. But I found him, or, rather, I found his boot. He had, no doubt, seen us stopped by the policeman, and then hastened to evade capture. There was a haystack in a field, and he had gone to it, and on one side, where it was cut open, there was a lot of loose hay, and he had concealed himself with the utmost cunning, all but one boot. This I observed just peeping out from a litter of loose hay, and not feeling equal to making the capture myself, I pretended I had not seen the boot, and went off and told the policeman, who was hunting some distance off, and also eating blackberries while he hunted.

He was much pleased and hastened to make the capture; and when he arrived and he saw the boot, he said: "Hullo, Soapy, old pard! Got you this time, my boy!"

Then the hay was cast aside, and the great spy; otherwise known as Soapy William, rose up.

It was rather a solemn sight in a way, for he took it pretty calmly, and said he'd been wanting a fortnight's rest for a long time.

After the capture, the policeman seemed to lose interest in Travers minor and me. In fact, he didn't even thank us, but he gave us back our money, and it was rather interesting to find that Soapy William, besides our six s.h.i.+llings, had the additional sum of two and sevenpence halfpenny also.

Travers minor didn't speak one single word, going back to Merivale, until we were at the gates; then he said a thing which showed how fearfully he felt what had happened.

He said:

"It makes me feel almost in despair about going into the Church, Briggs, when there's such wickedness as that about."

And I said:

"I should think you would want to go in all the more."

And afterwards, when we had changed and had tea, and we were in school, he got calmer and admitted I was right.

But he took a gloomier view of human nature afterwards, and often, on scouting days, he said there was more satisfaction in helping a beetle across a road, or making a snail safe, than there was in trying to be useful to one's fellow-creatures.

We had to go and give evidence against Soapy William before a Justice of the Peace two days later. In fact, it was Sir Neville Carew, who lived at the Manor House, and he seemed to be very much amused at our evidence, and almost inclined to let Soapy off. But he gave him a fortnight, and Soapy said to us as he 'oped we'd let the great Baden-Powell know how he was being treated; and everybody laughed, including Brown, who had gone to the court with us.

But, after that, Dr. Dunston cooled off to the Boy Scouts a lot; and when the terrific adventure to Travers minor finally occurred, about three weeks after, Travers major said it was a Nemesis on old Dunston; and so undoubtedly it was.

Though not actually in it, I heard all the particulars--in fact, everybody did, for naturally Dr. Dunston was the most famous person in Merivale, and when this remarkable thing overtook him, The _Merivale Weekly Trumpet_ had a column about it, and everybody for miles round called to see him and say how jolly glad they were it wasn't worse.

It was a fierce afternoon, with the leaves flying and the rain coming down in a squally sort of way, and Travers minor and I went for a drill, and after the drill we scouted a bit on rather a lonely road where nothing was in the habit of happening. But, as Travers truly said, the essence of scouting is surprise, and because a road is a lonely and uneventful sort of road, it doesn't follow something may not happen unexpectedly upon it.

He said:

"No doubt the roads in the valley of the river Aisne, in France, have been pretty lonely in their time, but think of them last September!"

So we went, and one motor pa.s.sed us in two miles; and two dogs poaching together also pa.s.sed, and in a field was a sheep which had got on its back and couldn't get up again, being too fat to do so. We pulled it up.

In another field was a bull, and we tried to attract it, and scouted down a hedge within fifty yards of it, to see if it was dangerous, and warn people if it was; and I went to within forty yards of it, being a good twelve yards from the hedge at the time, but it paid no attention.

Then, just at the end of the road, we came across an old woman sitting by the roadside in a very ragged and forlorn condition, with a basket of watercresses and also about twelve mushrooms.

Thinking she might be lame, or otherwise in difficulties, Travers minor went up to her and said:

"Good evening! D'you want anything?"

And she said:

"Yes, a plucky lot of things, but none of your cheek."

"It wasn't meant for cheek. I'm a Scout," said Travers minor.

And she said:

"Oh, run along home and ask mother to let out your knickers, else you'll bust 'em!"

Travers turned white with indignation, but such was his great idea of discipline, that he didn't tell her she was a drunken old beast, which she was, but just marched off. But he was fearfully upset, all the same, and, instead of pouring out his rage on the horrid old woman, he poured it out on me. He'd been a bit queer all day, owing to a row with Brown over a history lesson, in which Travers minor messed up the story of Charles II; and now, what with one thing and another, he lost his usual self-control and got very nasty.

He said scouting with another person was no good--not with me, anyway.

And I said:

"What have I done?"

And he said:

"You're such a fathead--nothing ever happens when you're about!"

I told him to keep his temper and not make a silly a.s.s of himself. I also asked him what he thought was going to happen. I said:

"We all know you're always ready for anything--from an Uhlan to a caterpillar--but it seems to me the essence of scouting is to keep wide awake when nothing is happening, like the fleet in the North Sea. Any fool can do things; the thing is always to be ready to do them, and not get your s.h.i.+rt out and lose your nerve because there's nothing to do."

This good advice fairly settled Travers minor. He undoubtedly lost his temper, as he admitted afterwards, and he said:

"When I want you to tell me my business, Briggs, I'll let you know."

And I said:

"Your first business is to keep your hair on, whatever happens."

And he said:

"Then I'll relieve you of my company, Briggs."

And, before I could answer, he had got through the hedge and gone off over a field which ran along a wood. I watched him in silent amazement, as they say, and he crossed the field and entered the wood and disappeared.

This action alone showed what a proper rage he was in, because he had gone into the Manor Woods, which was not only going out of bounds, but also trespa.s.sing--two things he never did. It was a fearful loss of nerve, and I stood quite still for a good minute after he vanished.

Then my first idea was to go and lug him back; but discretion was always the better part of valour with me, and always will be, owing to my character; so I left Travers to his fate, and hoped he'd soon cool down and come back without meeting a keeper. It was growing dusk, too, and I went back to Merivale, and decided not to say anything about Travers minor, except that, while we were engaged in some scouting operations, I had missed him.