  Within an hour after the capture of Blackie Williams, the Belton newspapers carried front page accounts of the nitro-glycerin discovery. Photographers, reporters and hundreds of curious persons swarmed to the cemetery area. Working under direction of police, the Scouts guarded entrance roads until relieved of duty. Reporters interviewed them and photographers insisted that they pose for action shots. To their intense embarrassment, townsfolk chose to regard them as heroes. “Shucks, we didn’t do much,” Ken protested. “If anyone deserves credit, Jack does. He had that first hunch about Blackie Williams.” A policeman informed the Scouts that an out-of-town explosives expert would be called in to set off a controlled explosion. “We’ve talked to Blackie, and there’s no question the stuff is active,” he told Jack. “Too dangerous to move. It seems he stole it seven months ago from an explosives plant. Once he got his hands on it, he realized he had more than he could use in twenty years. So he had to get rid of it.” The Scouts were on hand the following day when a nitro-glycerin expert arrived to inspect the kettle of fluid. He told police the explosive could not be safely moved and that it must be detonated. Preparations went forward for the big blast. Under the direction of Bradley Graham, an expert, sod and screenings were placed atop the cache to control the explosion. A two-pound dynamite charge, activated by a battery-powered switch, then was set up. When all was in readiness, great crowds jammed the streets, approaching as close as police would allow. Only newspaper reporters and Scouts were permitted within the roped off area. All were warned to hit the ground face downward at the moment of the explosion. The signal was given. Mr. Graham pulled a switch. But for a moment, nothing happened. “It’s a dud—” War muttered. His words were drowned by a mighty explosion which rocked the earth. Dirt and crushed stone flew high into the air. “A dud, eh?” said Jack laughing, wiping dust from his clothes as he got quickly to his feet. After an interval, the Scouts were permitted to inspect the great crater which had been made. The hole was fully fifteen feet across and nearly five feet deep. “I guess a little knowledge comes in handy,” Bob remarked in awe. “It’s sure lucky we recognized that stuff as nitro.” The Scouts thought no more of the incident. Therefore, it came as a distinct surprise, when on the following day, they received word that a recognition dinner was to be given in their honor. Explorers Post 21 members were instructed to present themselves at the Belton Hotel at six o’clock on Friday night. “Do we have to go?” Willie asked Mr. Livingston in alarm. “I would,” the Scout leader advised. “The mayor and the president of the auto plant are giving the dinner. You boys performed a fine service, so it’s only right that Belton should show appreciation.” Their consciences at ease, the Scouts pressed their green Explorers’ uniforms and at the designated hour presented themselves at the hotel. Two hundred businessmen and their wives had turned out to honor the boys. The dinner was excellent and high praise was bestowed upon the Scouts. As a climax, the mayor arose to announce that citizens of Belton City wished to show their appreciation in a more material way. In behalf of the entire Post, he handed Jack a check for $900. Jack glued his eyes on the bit of paper, too overcome to speak. He felt Ken nudge him. “Say something, you lug!” his chum urged. “In behalf of my fellow Explorers—” Jack began, “I want to say that we’re most grateful.” He laughed and dropped the formality. “Oh, heck! We only did what every Scout is supposed to do—his duty. We didn’t want pay.” “Of course, you didn’t, Jack,” responded the mayor. “Nevertheless, we feel that the Scouts performed a great service. Had it not been for your alertness, the automobile plant might have been destroyed. So take the check and spend it as you wish—a vacation trip or new furniture for your club room.” “Yes, sir,” Jack murmured, grinning. “We’ll manage to spend it all right!” After the gathering had broken up, the Explorers joined Mr. Livingston to discuss their good fortune. Jack turned the check over to the Scout leader, who said he would deposit it at the bank the first thing the following morning. “What a night it’s been!” Willie remarked blissfully. “With all this dough, we really can have a bang-up trip to Minnesota—if we go.” The Scouts gazed speculatively at Mr. Livingston. Since the arrival of the letter and emerald from his friend in Colombia, he had not even mentioned the subject again. Had he given up all thought of making the trip, they wondered? “Fellows,” Mr. Livingston said abruptly, “I hadn’t intended to spill this just yet, but I may as well. I’ve accepted Appleby Corning’s offer. I hope to leave for Colombia within three weeks.” No one replied for a moment. The information was most disappointing. Ken was the first to find tongue. “Why, that’s fine,” he said in a hollow tone. “We’ll miss you, but it’s a splendid opportunity. Post 21 won’t be the same without you, but we’ll get along somehow.” “Who said anything about getting along without me?” Mr. Livingston demanded with a broad smile. “You don’t mean you’re taking us with you!” cried War, his freckled face crinkling into lines of delight. “That’s the general idea. I cabled my friend, and received a reply this morning. He said to bring you fellows along.” “But the cost?” Jack interposed anxiously. “That’s the rub,” admitted the Scout leader. “Appleby isn’t too well off. He’s offered though, to pay all the plane fares, round trip. All other expenses of the trip would have to be met by us.” “Would nine hundred dollars do it?” War asked eagerly. “It might.” “We have another hundred or so we’ve saved for the Minnesota trip,” added Willie. “I’m for shooting the works!” “Until the mayor presented the check tonight, I couldn’t see how the trip might be financed,” Mr. Livingston admitted. “But with plane fare furnished, I think we could get along. Once we’re in Colombia, Mr. Corning will put us up at the Last Chance mine. So we’ll have no living expenses there. Naturally, we’ll need a little extra money for emergencies.” “When do we start?” War chortled. “Why wait three weeks?” “There’s a little item of school for one thing,” Mr. Livingston reminded him. “Also, your parents must consent. Talk the matter over with them and report to me tomorrow.” By the following day, all the Scouts with exception of Bob, had obtained permission to make the journey. His parents felt that he was too young to attempt such a long trip. Instead, they were taking him with them on a motor tour to California. “Honestly, I don’t mind too much,” Bob cheerfully informed his friends. “I’m not a softie, but those tales you told about being held captive by Indians in Peru left me rather cold. I’m partial to a nice bed and three square meals a day.” “This is a different sort of trip,” Jack said. “We don’t expect to become mixed up in an intrigue over Inca gold.” “It may be emeralds this time,” Bob predicted. “Something’s brewing or Mr. Corning wouldn’t have sent for Hap.” “You’re probably right,” Jack agreed with a grin. “Trouble certainly has developed at the Last Chance mine. And it’s a cinch we’re going to be in the thick of it!” |
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