The Boy Scouts at the Panama-Pacific Exposition

With that the door was closed, and of course the unwilling Tubby found there was no use trying to change the program; so he headed for the elevator, smothering a tremendous yawn by the way.

He made his appearance promptly on time when morning came, and they started for the Exposition grounds in a squad, all of them filled with lively anticipations of another great day of sight-seeing.

Of course the most anxious one of the company was Hiram. His business had not as yet come to a focus, and he was not at all certain how it might turn out. The others did not wish to hurry him unduly, for they knew Hiram to be very set in his ways; but at the same time they gave him plain hints that he would be unwise to wait too long.

“They’re expecting me any day now,” Hiram had explained in answer to these remonstrances, “and I’m just keepin’ ’em on the fence, you see. When I kinder guess the time’s ripe I’ll drop in on the company and tell ’em who I happen to be.”

“Hiram means he’s engineering a sort of climax,” explained Andy; “but the rest of us will be as mad as hops if he pulls the thing off without giving us a chance to see the fun.”

“You wouldn’t be so mean as that, I hope, Hiram?” pleaded Tubby.

“What d’ye take me for?” the other had exclaimed, in seeming indignation. “Guess I ought to know what my duty to my chums is. You’ll all have front seats on the band wagon when the music begins. Consider that as good as settled, Tubby. I’m having an extra big chair fixed for you, too, so you’ll be comfy.”

Tubby beamed his gratitude, and as they had arrived at the turnstile by that time the subject was dropped.

It was decided that they should keep together, for a while at least, though anyone could see that Hiram was wild to hurry over to where the Golden Gate Aviation Supply Company had its headquarters adjoining the field where the airships gave frequent exhibitions.

The crowd had not begun to make itself felt as yet, so that they found splendid opportunities to inspect numerous things that attracted their attention in some of the many immense Fair buildings.

An hour was spent among the pictures in the art building. Rob enjoyed this, for he was very fond of paintings, and at some future date he meant to put in a whole morning here.

Tubby soon tired of it, and as for Hiram it seemed to be pretty much of a bore. One whose heart and mind were wrapped up with all sorts of inventions could not be expected to content himself gazing upon works of art; they were too tame for his spirit; what Hiram delighted in was the whirr of machinery, the clack of the aëroplane propeller, and kindred objects that meant real work for him.

Just how it happened that about the middle of the morning they found themselves once more treading the devious ways of the Amusement Zone neither Rob nor Tubby nor Hiram could somehow understand. They dimly suspected, however, that the artful Andy must have managed to coax them in that quarter under a specious plea that he wanted to show them something wonderful.

The first thing they knew they were seated in chairs on the moving platform, and viewing the scenery along the stretch of the Panama Canal, which had a very realistic look for those who had been there themselves.

Each chair had a dictaphone attachment connected with the arm, and by applying this in the proper manner to their ears the occupants were enabled to hear a description of each section of the great ditch as it was reached.

Taken in all, it was a novel experience, and one they enjoyed very much; though in the end it required the strength of the other three scouts to drag poor Tubby out of his chair, which happened not to have been capacious enough for the standard requirements of the fat boy.

“Honestly,” said Tubby, in explanation of his sticking so tight, “I believe some skunk went and put a piece of shoemakers’ wax in that chair; and I feel that I’m lucky to have saved the seat of my new khaki trousers. If it had been the old ones there’s no telling what might have happened.”

“H’m! a poor excuse is better than none, they say,” muttered Andy; “but seems like instead of calling these chairs comfortable they might have added that they were the ‘Fat Man’s Misery.’ But forget it, Tubby; you’re safe and sound again, breeches and all. Come on and see what there is in this Bedouin Camp. The camels look like it ought to be a heap interesting.”

The others were not as much taken with the show as Andy. To him it was all real, and breathed the atmosphere of the desert and the traders’ caravan; but Rob saw how much was tinsel and make-believe, and really suspected that some of the so-called Arabs talked among themselves in pretty fair English.

It happened that shortly after they had issued from this concession, and Hiram was commencing to show signs of uneasiness, as though wanting to be off, something came to pass that for the time being made them forget their plans.

“Hey! what’s all that running about over there?” suddenly exclaimed Andy. “Mebbe there’s goin’ to be an Oriental elopement or a wedding? Let’s hurry over and get in line to see!”

“More’n like a dog-fight,” grumbled Hiram; “for I’ve noticed that in some of these squalid villages of foreigners they have some ugly yellow curs hanging around, which I should think the Fair people wouldn’t stand for.”

All the same, Hiram ran as fast as his mates to see what was going on. They made a discovery before they were more than half way to the spot. Indeed, the loud outcries borne to their ears, as well as the smoke that came from a building where the signs indicated that a celebrated Egyptian fortune-teller could be consulted, made this very manifest.

“Whee! it’s a fire!” gurgled Tubby, who was puffing very hard in his effort not to be left in the lurch by his more agile companions.

The excitement can be easily imagined in that always thronged section of the Exposition grounds. Scores of persons, many of them turbaned Arabs, Turks with red fezzes on their heads, or other foreigners were rushing this way and that, all wildly shouting, and wringing their hands as though they expected that a dreadful misfortune threatened that part of the Amusement Zone.

The gayly-dressed fortune-tellers were apparently up against a hard proposition. They could pretend to tell what the future held for others, but apparently had not been able to foresee such a common everyday occurrence as their booth taking fire.

No one seemed to be thinking of trying to do anything. The authorities of the Fair had provided arrangements for such accidents, and in due time, doubtless, the fire company would dash upon the scene, ready to pour a stream of water on the flames.

But seconds count when fire is seizing hold of flimsy curtains and woodwork. A minute or two in the commencement of a conflagration means that it may be smothered before it gets a firm clutch on the building.

Rob possibly remembered what had happened on that Long Island bay at the time he and Andy saved the naphtha launch owned by old Cap. Jerry.

Just then he discovered a couple of local scouts hurrying up. They were small lads, and might hardly know what was to be done in such an emergency. Rob seized hold of the first one.

“Tell me, do you know where the nearest fire extinguisher is fastened; I remember seeing some around the grounds here?”

No sooner had Rob put this question to the small scout than his face lighted up eagerly.

“That’s the ticket!” he exclaimed, shrilly. “I knew there was something a fellow ought to do! Why, yes, there’s one right back yonder, mister. All you got to do is to grab it off the stand and get busy. I know where another is further on!”

With that he darted off, followed by his companion. Rob had not even waited to hear all that was said. He had his eye on that little extinguisher immediately, and was leaping toward it, followed by the gaze of his admiring chums.

Why, it seemed almost no time at all before the scout leader had wrenched the extinguisher loose. His first thought was that luck favored him because lo! and behold it chanced to be one of the same pattern he always carried aboard his little motorboat, to provide against a catastrophe by fire.

Thus armed and equipped, Rob started into the small building from which the dense clouds of smoke issued, and amidst which tongues of angry flame were to be seen.

Andy, Hiram and Tubby followed close on his heels. They had nothing with which to fight the fire, but somehow seemed to consider it a part of their duty to back their energetic leader up to the full limit of their capacity.

It was, after all, nothing of moment, once Rob got the little stream started on the flames. The fire had not gained sufficient headway to make a stubborn resistance of it, and inside of three minutes Rob had it entirely subdued.

“Back out, fellows; it’s all over!” he managed to exclaim, though half choked by the penetrating smoke.

Just as the scouts came out, and by their smiles assured everybody that there no longer remained a spark to endanger the neighboring flimsy structures, the fire squad came hustling up. Of course there was a perfect mob gathered by this time, and Rob found it hard work to try and make his way through.

The man in charge of the fire-fighters hunted the scouts up and insisted on shaking hands with them, a procedure that many in the crowd copied, greatly to the displeasure of Rob, though Tubby and the others did not seem to mind it in the least.

One alert young fellow, who announced that he was a reporter on a San Francisco daily, tried his best to get an interview with Rob, who positively declined to say anything except that they were scouts from Long Island.

As this persistent newspaperman kept after them, and was seen in eager conversation with Tubby in the rear, it might be taken for granted that the fat scout was of a different mind from Rob. Trust Tubby to “blow the horn” good and strong, especially when he could sing the praises of one he cared for as much as he did for Rob Blake.

“Seems like things keep on happening wherever we go,” said Andy, after they had finally managed to shake off the last of the curious crowd, and retreated to another part of the Zone.

“It’s lucky for some people that such is the case,” asserted Tubby, promptly. “If we hadn’t happened to be around I reckon that fortune-teller’s place would have been burned to the ground. Some time we may be sorry we bothered with it. They’re all a lot of fakes, say what you will.”

Andy chuckled audibly at hearing that remark.

“You mustn’t mind Tubby, fellows,” he said, pretending to whisper, though he knew the fat scout could hear every word plainly; “ever since that time we were down at Coney Island, and a woman seeress there told him he had a glorious future as the world’s most famous fat man, Tubby has been sore on the craft. Now, that same wise woman told me I was going to be the greatest traveler since Livingstone’s time. She read my longings and aspirations, and I often think she could lift the curtain and see into the future.”

“Aw! you’re silly if you believe a single word they say!” burst out Tubby, with wrath and indignation; but in less than two minutes he was as amiable as ever; the unpleasant incident was forgotten; for Tubby could not stay out of humor long, and as Hiram was accustomed to saying, “trouble and anger slipped from Tubby just like water does from a duck’s back!”

More people were coming as the morning progressed, though the crowds would not begin to compare with those that the afternoon and evening would bring; when the band concerts were an added attraction, with numerous other events going on in every direction, until one would wish they could have a thousand eyes and ears so as not to miss anything.

Rob was tired of the scenes in the Amusement Zone, and ready to suggest that all of them make a change of base, though he knew it would not be an easy task to tear Andy away from the sights his heart yearned to keep in contact with.

“There’s one of the yellow curs we saw in that Indian village,” remarked Tubby; “and some boys are plaguing the life half out of him by throwing sticks, and trying to round him up. He must have broken loose from the enclosure where he was confined, and don’t know how to get back again. Look at the way he acts, will you? They’d better go slow, or he’ll bite one of those sillies! Oh, look at him snapping, will you, Rob? Makes me think of the mad dog that ran through our town last – ”

“Stop that talk, Tubby!” ordered Rob, sternly; but apparently it was too late, for some one gave a shout, and like magic the cry was taken up until dozens of frightened voices sent it rolling along the street of the Zone:

“Mad dog! mad dog! run for your lives, everybody!”

CHAPTER XXI

THE MAD DOG PANIC

No more dreadful cry can be imagined than the one the four scouts now heard rising all around them. It made many faces turn deathly white, and there was a hasty flight on the part of the more timid in order to gain the shelter of the adjoining walls of the booths.

Some boys and men also remained, and commenced to pelt the wretched cur still further with stones, sticks, or anything they could lay hands on, meanwhile keeping up more or less wild shouting.

“The fools!” exclaimed Rob, indignantly; “that dog is no more mad than I am; but they’re doing everything they can to make him so. He’s already scared half out of his head with all those things being shied at him. He snarls and snaps because he’s at bay, and the old wolf nature shows then. All he wants is to get back home somehow!”

The clamor grew in violence as new voices joined in. Those who came running up, always eager to see whatever was going on, began to hurl things at the cringing yellow cur flattened against the wall; though when the poor beast once started toward them it was amazing to see how the mob melted away, men falling over each other in their frantic fear of being bitten.

Rob was growing more and more indignant. He tried to speak to some of those nearest him, but he might as well have tried to stop the flow of Niagara for all the effect his words of expostulation had upon the shouters.

Women and children were shrieking in fright, even though they were apparently safe in the various buildings that lined the sunny street of the Zone.

“I just can’t stand for this racket!” the others heard Rob say, as he suddenly left them and sprang forward.

Immediately loud voices called out, some warning him not to be rash, and others applauding his daring, for it is always so easy to stand back and clap hands when some one is taking the chances.

“Oh! what does Rob mean to do?” cried Tubby, who had seen the mad dog killed in the main street of Hampton the previous summer, and had a perfect horror of being brought into personal contact with any animal suffering from the rabies.

“He isn’t intending to try and grab the beast!” explained Hiram. “Rob knows better than that, even if the dog is only scared, and not mad. It would bite him just as quick, I guess, as if it was rabid. Watch and see what his game is, fellows; Rob knows what he’s about, you’d better believe!”

Every eye was centered on the form of the boy as he advanced toward the cowering dog. Rob was snapping his fingers, and acting as friendly as he could, wishing to assure the beast he had no hostile motive in approaching. This he did in order to keep the frenzied and tortured dog from jumping at him before he could manage to put his little plan into operation.

At least it held the attention of the dog, though the animal suspected the genuine nature of his advance, and cowered there watching him, still snarling viciously.

It required considerable nerve to keep on in spite of the increasing growls of the dog at bay. Rob was ready to act in case the beast did spring toward him, for he certainly had no intention of allowing its jaws to come in contact with his flesh.

Most of the shouting had died out by now. Everybody was watching with held breath to see what that venturesome boy in khaki would attempt. Many doubtless believed, as they stared with distended eyes, that Rob actually meant to grapple with the animal and throttle it.

“It’s a burning shame to let a boy try what men might have done!” one white-faced woman near the other scouts was heard to say; and they could readily imagine that she had boys of her own at home, of whom she was doubtless thinking as she watched Rob walking forward into the danger zone.

But Rob had another scheme in view. Unarmed, he did not covet an encounter at close quarters with that yellow dog, whether the beast was mad or only frenzied with fear.

In fact, Rob meant to try and cage him, if it could be worked. He believed that if given a chance the dog would only too gladly slip in through any opening that seemed to offer him a temporary refuge from all those shouting tormentors.

Rob, in taking a rapid survey of the situation, had noticed what seemed to be a partly finished booth which was being erected for some late coming concession owner. The small building was almost finished, and had a door, which he had seen was ajar, though not fully open.

It was the boy’s plan, made up on the spur of the moment, to reach that door and push it wide open. Then in some fashion perhaps the frightened dog might be influenced to enter, when the door could be closed, and thus he would be held in a trap.

Perhaps Rob’s heart beat like a trip-hammer within him as he came close to that door, and he fancied he saw the dog starting to jump toward him. He snapped his fingers again and spoke kindly. It may be these expressions of good-will had a little effect on the beast; at any rate the advance movement was delayed, though the vicious snarling and whining continued.

Then Rob found that he could stretch out his hand and reach the door. He started to push it open, though it was no easy task.

Having accomplished this to his satisfaction, he began to back away, still keeping his eyes on the dog, and ready to seek some friendly place of safety in case of necessity.

The dog had seen his action. It must have known that an avenue of escape had been opened up by the pushing back of that door. Possibly the poor beast anticipated a safe return to the village where it had been at home among its kind.

“Look! it’s going to accept Rob’s invitation!” cried Tubby, excitedly.

“Smart dog!” said Andy; “he may save his bacon by that clever move.”

“There he goes in; now what d’ye think of that for a bright trick?” Hiram shouted.

That was just what the badgered dog did – slipped along the wall until it came to the partly open door, and then vanished from view.

“There goes Rob back! What’s he meaning to do now, I wonder?” Tubby exclaimed, in fresh consternation.

“He wants to complete the job by shutting the door,” explained Andy, who could grasp a situation like this much better than the stout scout, because his wits worked quicker.

All sounds ceased again as Rob pushed along the wall of the new building until he could reach out his hand. Then the door began to close, faster and faster until the yawning gap was entirely filled.

Hardly had this been done than there arose a deafening cheer. Everybody seemed to be wild with delight, and shook hands with one another in their excitement. Now that the terrible “mad dog” had been caged, plenty of weapons would be remembered; and it would be so easy, and safe, to shoot through the windows of the building.

“Let’s get out of this, fellows!” said Rob, when he managed to worm his way through the crush and join his mates.

Tubby frowned as though it was against his principles to run away when people were wanting to shake hands, and call one a hero; but not wanting to be left behind the others, Tubby had to go.

They had not reached a point far distant when the report of several firearms reached them. Rob shook his head and frowned.

“That’s about the silliest thing I ever ran up against,” he said. “The dog was no more mad than Tubby here is. Those boys pestered him, and got him scared. Then all that shouting and waving of hands and throwing of things at him finished the business. It was a foolish scare, and I guess nine out of ten mad dog hunts are in the same class.”

“Well, they’ve finished the poor thing now, I guess!” ventured Hiram.

“It sounds like it the way they’re cheering, just as if they’ve done something mighty heroic!” added Andy.

“The only thing worth a cheer,” remarked Tubby, emphatically, “was when our chum Rob walked right at the snarling beast, and took all sorts of chances of getting bit and clawed up. That needed nerve, let me tell you!”

“Oh! not any to speak of,” said the scout leader, hastily. “I made sure to have my eye on a shed close by all the while; and if he’d really made a jump for me you’d have seen a mighty fine exhibition of high and lofty climbing. Mad or not, I wasn’t meaning to stay there and tackle him, without a thing to hit him with.”

“But it all worked well, as nearly always happens with you, Rob,” said Tubby; “though once my heart seemed to be up in my throat; that was when you had to snap your fingers and coax him, Rob. Only for that he’d have made for you, thinking you meant to strike him.”

“I’m glad it’s over,” observed Hiram, shuddering.

“That dog belonged to the Injuns we saw in the village,” ventured Andy, thoughtfully; “and you know Injuns think roast dog is the finest dish ever. I expect they’ll want to claim the remains. Little they’ll bother about any talk of mad dog; it’s more likely to be mad Injun when they find out what’s happened.”

And after that they tried to put the latest incident out of their minds, though Tubby would explode some new idea concerning it every once in a while, as they wandered about the Fair grounds taking in new sights.

CHAPTER XXII

TAKING IN THE SIGHTS OF THE FAIR

“Well, he’s gone, Rob!” said Andy, as they were coming out after an hour spent in the wonderful Transportation Building.

“Oh, you mean Hiram?” remarked the scout leader, after taking a comprehensive glance around. “Well, I’ve been expecting him to give us the slip for some time. He held on longer than I thought he would.”

“No trouble guessing where he’s bound for,” laughed Andy. “That hall where the latest modern inventions are on exhibition draws him like sugar or molasses does the pesky flies in summer time. He sticks there nearly as hard as – well, as Tubby did in that skimpy chair at the Panama show.”

“Bring it nearer home, can’t you, Andy, and say about as well as you want to stick to that Zone of freaks and flimsies and Coney Island shows,” ventured Tubby, with singular quickness, for him.

“I arranged it with Hiram to stay with us just as long as he could stand for it,” explained Rob; “and that when he did feel he had to go, to call at the little booth of the tobacconist where we’ve arranged to meet, not later than four this afternoon.”

“Remember that, you Andy,” warned Tubby, shaking a fat finger in the direction of the other, “in case we happen to get separated! Accidents will come along sometimes, you know; and you’re likely to feel that call to the wild again any old time.”

Andy only laughed. Apparently he had a tough hide when it came to resisting such harmless blunt-nosed shafts as Tubby could launch against him.

“I’ll keep it in mind, Tubby, I promise you,” he remarked; “but after we’ve had something to eat, you won’t try to keep me any longer. We’re all here to enjoy ourselves according to our bent, you must remember.”

“And your bent runs along the line of the spectacular display of gaudy tinsel and all sorts of make-believe frauds!” continued Tubby, pretending to curl his short upper lip in disdain, though truth to tell he rather enjoyed a little of the same pleasures himself.

“Have it as you please, Tubby,” Andy told him. “To me they’re all real, and when I find myself surrounded by that wonderful foreign atmosphere, it’s just like I’d taken wings and flown over there to Africa, or Asia, or the islands of the Far East. Rob, make him stop trying to interfere with my pleasure. Just because one fortune-teller riled him, Tubby sneers at everything that wears a Turkish fez, a Bedouin bournoose or a Persian caftan. I guess I know how to sift the chaff from the wheat. And a fellow who means to be a world traveler some day ought to rub up against these sort of people all he can.”