Westy Martin

“ The next afternoon Westy was on the job and admitted into the Mitchell home by a Mexican butler with an expressionless face.
Young Mitchell came forward to meet him and greeted him cordially, leading Westy out into a spacious plazita and introduced him to his father and mother. They actually seemed to unbend from their assumed mental stiffness as he smiled in his naive way.
Westy was the kind of a boy that made people act natural. He had that genuineness of spirit and character that forced them to drop the artificialities and smile at the realities. ”

“ His heart felt as if it had dropped a couple of inches, for the fact that Artie was lying there prostrate was perfectly evident.
Tying the rope around the lantern as best he could, considering that his maimed hand was little or no use, he lowered it carefully into the hollow. A sound emanated from below, and to Westy, who was expecting the worst, it sounded like some one groaning.
“Whassa matter?” the voice said in guttural tones. “Haven’t you got any sense? Letting the sun shine in my face like that, huh? Lot of feeling you got for a guy, I’ll tell the world!” ”

“ Westy did not answer, only arose in a rather disgruntled way and stepped off the platform. He strolled forward alone along the outside of the car, kicking a stone as he went and watching it intently. When he raised his eyes he had almost reached the other end of the car. The car stood on a siding quite alone; the train was rushing away among the mountains.
Westy Martin was at last face to face with something real and big. He and his companions were quite alone in the Rocky Mountains. The Boy Scouts of America and the heedless, cruel, monster Nature had come to an issue at last. ”

“ Westy was beginning to recognize the superior intelligence of his new friend and felt more kindliness toward him.
A few minutes after the porter entered, his arms occupied by various sizes and shapes of various colored shoes. Westy rose and Rip followed suit.
It lacked another minute before midnight would open her portals to welcome the infant day, and still Westy lay wide-eyed in his berth, staring into the darkness. Rip’s heavy breathing above him and the occasional light creak of the springs, betrayed the fact that Rip’s sleep was by no means dreamless. ”

“ Westy felt a drop of rain on his forehead, then another, and as it started to patter steadily on the dry leaves they arose from the ground.
Why couldn’t that have happened before? he thought. Fate always worked things backwards, and he spoke his thoughts to Lola.
“No, not backwards,” she said gravely, “but for the best.”
Wonderful people, he told himself. Take life, death and laughter just as it comes.
As they walked into the darkness toward the shack, Westy saw them turn—a look on their faces as they viewed the desolate scene that perplexed him. ”

“ Westy only looked straight ahead of him, his abstracted gaze fixed upon the wild, lonesome mountains. A great bird was soaring over them and he watched it till it became a mere speck. And meanwhile, the locomotive steamed at steady intervals like an impatient beast. Then, suddenly, its voice changed, there was strain and effort in its steaming.
“Guess we’re going to go,” said Warde. “Now for the little old Yellowstone, hey, Westy? Wake up, come out of that, you old grouch. Don’t you know a scout is supposed to smile and look pleasant? We should worry about Mr. Madison C. Wilde.” ”

“ So Westy decided not to mention anything of the haunted cliff and lake that evening.
Rip immediately went to his bunk and pretty soon they all followed suit. As Westy lay in his bunk thinking of his comrade’s foolish statement, he heard the cries of a wildcat not far off. Then an owl hooted dismally in the distance and soon he felt the warm delicious drowsiness of sleep enveloping him like a cloak, protecting his senses from the disturbing night noises. ”

“ For the leader of this desperate pair Westy could not repress a certain measure of respect; respect at least for his courage and skill. The other one seemed utterly contemptible. There is always a glamour about the romantic bad man of the West, dead shot and master of every situation, which has an abiding appeal to every lover of adventure.
Here was a man, long, lanky, and of a drawling speech, whose eye, Westy could believe, was piercing and inscrutable like the renowned Two Pistol Bill of the movies. ”

“ But Westy Martin stuck and became Uncle Jeb’s right-hand man. A score of enthusiastic scouts would help in the starting of a new cabin. But only Westy would remain till it was finished. A clamorous throng would start blazing a trail back into the mountains and for the first mile or two there would be more scouts to do the blazing than there were trees to be blazed. But at the point of destination it often happened that Uncle Jeb and Westy were the only survivors. ”

“ Mr. Wilde said with mock sympathy, and as an afterthought added, “Not until you get a little older! Come on, we’ll take a stroll down and inquire who this maid of the mountains happens to be.”
Westy left his bacon to an unknown Fate and followed the rest to the brook, where they beheld Rip’s dryad sitting, feet under her, on the limb of a huge tree.
The setting sun threw a halo of scarlet around her. Bobbed hair, dark and straight, with a band of crimson ribbon encircling her forehead. Eyes as dark as the forests at night with a laughing light in them. ”

“ Feeling the tensity of Artie’s grip upon him, Westy followed the direction of that hand in utter bewilderment.
The small object seemed to be moving on the very edge of the cliff. Now it looked to be hanging on the precipice, while the boys sat breathless—waiting.
There was a slight movement as the object revealed itself to them.
“It’s an eaglet!” exclaimed Westy in an excited whisper. “Probably just trying out its wings.”
“Gw-an,” answered Artie, as if thoroughly informed as to the eagles and their habits. “Whatcha think, a bird that size is just trying out its wings? ”

“ Our friends won’t be much longer in digging out their progeny. Not only that but it’s imperative we get back to Uncle Jeb as quick as possible, if you feel up to it!”
There were many questions and remarks that Artie would have liked to voice at that moment, but he realized that the seriousness of Westy’s tone forbade it. He told him to go ahead and tie the rope to the tree and when he felt the tug he’d start.
It was like witnessing some one arising from the dead for Westy to see the familiar form of his friend come safely over the edge of the precipice. ”

“ It was quite late and the usual hum and buzz of masculine voices in the smoking room were missing. The train went screeching through the dark, rainy night, indifferent to all else save the purpose of its own mission in life.
Westy and Rip were sitting opposite one another, trying to penetrate the inky blackness outside the dripping window panes. Nothing but a shroud of blackness covered the earth. ”

“ Westy and Rip gathered up the guns hastily and fairly leaped inside the car, a revolver in each hand. Their captives gasped with astonishment, giving one another, particularly Bull, a look of total disgust.
The three mail clerks and the fireman and engineer, all bound and gagged, were sitting on the floor in a row. They presented a pitiful yet humorous spectacle, sitting there in such dejected-looking attitudes.
Westy viewed the scene hurriedly. Mail was strewn about the whole car in their frenzy to get what they wanted and depart. ”

“ Pausing to pant and gain his balance, Westy would try not to wonder whether the vultures would leave anything of Warde for him to find. It was lucky for Westy that the sunlight, reflected against these steep rocks which directly faced the sunset, lit up the ravine long after Ed, on the opposite side of the mountain, was left in darkness. For Westy, in darkness, would have been in peril indeed, since the task he was attempting seemed to him very like those movie scenes of a Human Fly crawling down the face of a skyscraper! ”

“ John Temple, the beneficent founder of Temple Camp in the Catskills. And so Westy Martin, scout, became identified with a series of adventures which I shall chronicle for you; adventures in the wildest region of the Wild West. Such adventures as boys do not even read of in these days of football and baseball and boarding schools and Saturday hikes. It is odd, when you come to think of it, how things happen. That Westy Martin should participate in adventures which in these days are commonly thought too extravagant even for boy’s stories! ”

“ Their eager interest about everything in the world outside was pathetic. They encouraged Mr. Wilde and Billy to talk of their work and listened attentively to Westy and Rip talk of the scouts. It was obvious that they did not want to talk of themselves at all, mentioning nothing of their own daily lives and routine.
Westy’s heart was filled with pity as he watched Lola’s dark eyes widening with interest as she listened to the desultory conversation around the table. She fairly gurgled with delight at times when little touches of humor were added here and there. ”

“ Martin kissed her son fondly and wiped aside the stray tear. Mr. Martin, with a brusque but kindly handclasp, ran true to form and admonished him to steer clear of the Indians he should encounter. He told Westy that they could not be trusted even in these civilized times; there always being danger of reverting to the savage state. After a few other warnings, Mr. Martin took his leave, thoroughly satisfied that his duty was well done.
Thereupon, in wild acclaim Westy’s brother scouts emitted cheers loud and long, led in a big voice by little Pee-wee.
“Bring me back an Indian souvenir, Wes!” ”

“ Martin was not a bad sort of man, he was just (as Doris said) impossible.
The first summer that Westy went to Temple Camp a solemn promise had been extorted from him that he would not go on the water. Adventure, particularly big adventure with moderate risks, did not fit into Mr. Martin’s scheme of life. He called Tom Slade a daredevil. He was certainly not opposed to the moral side of scouting, he subscribed to all the scout virtues. But the adventurous side he could not contemplate calmly. He did not believe in boys going away from home. ”

“ WESTY’S JOB
Again Westy paused in frightful suspense. He knew that these men would not give him the advantage by calling, “Who’s there?” In another second he might be dead. Would he hear the shot, he wondered. Does a person who is shot hear the shot that lays him low? Would he know if he were shot—in the head?
He paused, unable to move a muscle, haunted by these ghastly thoughts. Some one was evidently awake and listening. Should he risk it and take another step? Suppose a twig should crackle. If he took a long stride he might possibly lose his balance. ”

“ Magnificent chaos! Distance unlimited! Wildness unparalleled! Such loneliness that a whisper might startle like a shout. It needed only the roar of a grizzly to complete this boy’s sense of tragic isolation and to give the scene a voice.
From where he sat, Westy could look down into the cosy little cleft and see Ed Carlyle standing clearly outlined in the first gray of twilight; standing like a statue, hopefully angling with his converted safety-pin and braided worsted. Warde was gathering sticks for their fire. Westy’s impulse was to call to them, but then he decided not to. ”

“ That’s Westy Martin all over; he always has his wits about him. I’d carry mine around with me, too, if I had any, only I haven’t got any. Sometimes Pee-wee has good ideas, but he doesn’t carry them with him because he has so much else [Pg 112] to carry. But Westy has a dandy brain, I’ll say that for him. I saw right away what he was driving at.
“That’s a crackerjack idea,” I shouted. “Let’s eat our supper here on the way back. We’ll tie the car and then we can loosen it again afterwards. Come on, let’s hurry up. This is a nice lonely place to eat in and nobody anywhere around to bother us.” ”

“ At the start Westy and Rip’s interest was keenly aroused. They were stopping at places often and long enough to keep them from getting bored. Places that were rich in tradition failed to strike them very forcibly, it seemed. Helping out here and there it filled in time and they also posed at intervals to make the scenes abound with the human touch. ”

“ Martin who had previously come home from business and was divesting himself of his topcoat and hat in the front hall. “Were you speaking to me, son?”
“No, Father,” Westy respectfully answered. “I was just thinking of something.”
“Well, my boy,” he said firmly, “you must always do your thinking in the proper places. I noticed as I came along in the bus from the station that you barely escaped being run over. One of those foolhardy speeders came rushing along without any regard to the privacy of your thoughts. There isn’t any room in the world for dreamers, especially the business world. ”

“ When Westy opened his eyes again he was in the Mitchell library—on the divan.
A doctor sat by him, Mr. Wilde and Rip and Billy—also the Mitchells. In the open doorway Lola and Mrs. Redmond stood smiling, then came forward.
“You’re tiptop now,” said the doctor, taking his case. “You must be made of rubber. Only stunned, that was all.”
“Where’s the Mexicans?” Westy asked.
“In the lock-up!” Mr. Wilde said.
“Hello, Lola!”
“Hello yourself, Westy! You have almost broken your neck for us this time, haven’t you?”
“That’s what he said he’d do!” piped up Rip, “if it would help you people!” ”