Westy

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ In this everyday world of ours, what with the rapid strides that civilization has taken in every direction and the progress of our own generation, we have become cynical and apathetic regarding the ingenuity of mankind.
This fact was never brought to mind so much as on that Sunday afternoon when Westy got his first glimpse of Lola’s home. It must represent the love and labor of three quarters of a century and more, he thought, to attain such a triumph against such odds. ”

“ 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 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.” ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ One of the trunks stood open with part of its contents pulled out and Westy sniffed the pleasing odor of apples, those souvenirs of vacation time which nestle coyly in the corners of homecoming trunks. The disused living room, bereft of all its familiar bric-a-brac, had a musty odor. ”

“ Then Westy spoke up. He said, "This is our little mascot; he's harmless." Then he told all about how our car was stalled on the road and how the thieves got away. Westy always has his wits about him when he talks, that's one thing. ”

“ 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. ”

“ Yes, sir, and he had taught Westy all there was to know about real scouting in pioneer fashion.
After Pee-wee or any others got that explanation off their respective chests and you had the audacity to confess ignorance of Uncle Jeb’s fame also, why your case would be classed as hopeless. Hopeless, that is, so far as the affairs of real he-men were concerned. A look of the most profound pity would be cast in your direction and then, as if time was too valuable to be wasted on one of second-rate intellect, you would be dismissed from their minds. ”

“ After breakfast, when they got good and ready, Westy and Artie started off around the lake, feeling for all the world like two officials of the law. Westy, in the lead going up the Cliff trail, had Uncle Jeb’s rifle nonchalantly slung over his left shoulder. ”

“ 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. ”

“ He thought how after all Ed’s safety-pin and braided worsted had probably not made good. This aroused again his morbid reflections about boy scouting. Shining Sun, without so much as a safety-pin, would have been able to catch fish, probably with his dexterous hands.
Westy was disgusted with himself and all his claptrap of scouting, when he thought of this primitive little master of the woods and water. Frightened as he was, he was reflective enough to be indignant at Mr. Wilde for that skeptic’s irreverent use of the name of Stove Polish. Shining Sun was all but sacred to serious Westy. ”

“ Wilde, loomed up before him now and took the edge off a very credible achievement in scouting—escaping from train robbers in the Rockies.
Achievement! Westy had read about masterly retreats. They were conducted by military strategists, but not by heroes. They were skillful but not brave. To be a scout you must have the stuff that heroes are made of. And to be a hero you must do something, you must be brave. What you have to do, you do. Westy Martin knew in his heart what his job was. ”

“ Westy was in one of them and I made him come in our boat, because now that Bert was gone, maybe dead, and Skinny, too, I just felt as if I'd like to have one of my patrol near me—I just felt that way. Besides, Westy was my special chum and after all I liked him best of any. When you're feeling kind of shaky, that's the time you like to have one of your own patrol with you—you bet. ”

“ 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. ”

“ Van Arlen called, hearing Westy’s voice.
“Getting on fine,” Westy answered with gladness in his voice. “Where’s Art?”
“You’re a fine boy, Westy,” Mr. Van Arlen now remarked, as though he hadn’t heard Westy’s question. “I hear the bus company are going to reward you for your bravery and no doubt you’ll get a medal from your troop for such heroism.”
“Yeh? Has Art gone to bed?” he queried, indifferent as to what rewards or medals he might get and intent only on bearing the glad tidings to his friend.
“Here I am, Wes,” Artie shouted from the living-room. “What’s all the excitement?” ”

“ Westy recalled these words in the mammoth volume on the sitting room table at the farm. He had admired, even been thrilled at the heroic picture of the great hunter whose exploits in the Maine woods were so flatteringly recorded. It had not at the time occurred to him that the noble stag might have looked like a statue too. Well, here was the actual result of such flaunted heroism, and Westy did not like it. It was quite a different sort of picture.
Then, suddenly, it occurred to him that he was to blame for this pitiful spectacle. He who shoots does not always kill. ”

“ Westy continued, as if to explain. “I’m perfectly sure of it, Uncle Jeb; that is where it is. And I saw something else in the Pass too⸺”
Before Westy could finish his story, Uncle Jeb had nudged his arm and pointed above them to the hollow. They all looked and could not repress the chills that ran up and down their spines.
There in the bright light of the moon was the ghost-like figure of a man descending from the precipice into the hollow on a rope! ”

“ 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!” ”

“ Warde asked, not altogether captivated by Westy’s proposal.
“What we have to get, we get,” said Westy.
“Well, I think we’ll get good and tired,” said Ed.
“I’m sorry I haven’t got a baby carriage to wheel you in,” said Westy.
“Thanks,” laughed Ed, “a scout is always thoughtful.”
“He has to be more than thoughtful,” said Westy. “If it comes to that, if we had been thoughtful we wouldn’t have come into this car at all. It’s all filled up with railroad junk and it wasn’t intended for passengers.” ”

“ Warde and Ed had followed Westy through the several cars, not fully sharing his mood, but obedient to him as leader. They made a doleful little trio, these fine boys who had been given a trip to the Yellowstone Park by the Rotary Club of America in recognition of a heroic good turn which each had done. Alas, that this glib stranger, Mr. Wilde, and that other unknown hero, Shining Sun, the Indian boy, should have destroyed, as it were with one fell blow, their wholesome enjoyment of scouting and their happy anticipations. Poor Westy. ”

“ Understanding everything in nature is all right, but understanding all about people is something, too. Isn’t it?”
“I suppose it must be if you say so,” said Ed.
“This pin’s only good for the little ones——”
“I mean you understand Westy, you know just how to handle him,” said Warde. “Scouts have to deal with men, maybe wild men, just the same as they have to deal with nature, I guess. You can read Westy like a—a—like a trail. Gee, in the beginning I was hoping Westy and I could come out here alone. Now I just can’t think of the trip without you along. Do you ever get mad?” ”

“ They all shook hands and as Westy started to leave he saw the Mexican butler move from behind a tree and fairly glide into the house. He called goodnight and young Mitchell walked out with him.
“It’ll be great having you to dinner on Sunday. You can be there when your friends come; it’ll surprise them. G’night!”
“Good-night!”
Westy felt that he had earned a night’s repose when he got in his room. Rip was already in bed and Billy and Mr. Wilde were draped in graceless attitudes about the various chairs. They had the look of having been waiting for news, so he told them as he undressed. ”