Boy Scouts Mysterious Signal | Page 5

coming back."
"Have you any matches?" asked Ned. "I haven't a one with me. It's careless, I know, but not a match can I find in my pockets."
"Where's your searchlight?" inquired Jack. "Haven't you that?"
"No; the Germans took that away from me when they searched us."
"I have two matches," said Harry, "but I don't want to waste them. Perhaps it will be a long time before we get any more, and I feel that we ought to save them if possible."
"Maybe we can find some stuff here dry enough to make a fire with, and that'll give us light!" suggested Jack.
"Good idea!" responded Ned. "The place feels dry enough."
"Let's keep hold of hands and move slowly about," put in Harry. "In that way we won't be separated and may find just what we want."
Acting on this suggestion, the boys clasped hands and moved slowly about, feeling their way cautiously with their feet. They seemed to be in a cellar with a solid stone floor that had been made quite smooth.
"Here's something!" exclaimed Harry as his foot struck a small object. "This feels like a piece of wood."
"Here's my knife; let's whittle some shavings," offered Jack.
In a short time the boy had succeeded in producing the desired shavings from the board Harry had discovered. Gathering these carefully in his hands, he held them ready to receive the flame from Harry's match. All three lads eagerly gathered closer together as Harry prepared to strike the match that would give them the desired ability to see. Harry's hand trembled a trifle in spite of his effort at self-control. His first effort was unsuccessful.
"Careful, Harry," admonished Ned. "Better strike it on your shoe sole. That makes a better match scratcher than your trousers."
"Correct!" observed Jack. "And go easy," he added. "We have only two, you know. If anything should happen, you understand--"
"Yes, I know," answered Harry. "That's why I'm trying to be extra careful. I'm just as anxious for a light as you are."
"The rats are coming closer," observed Jack, a slight quaver perceptible in his voice. "I don't want them to start anything."
"All right now, Harry; lean on me a bit to balance yourself," urged Ned. "Make sure this time, and get it in your cupped hands."
"Here goes!" announced Harry, lifting one foot and striking the match upon the sole of his shoe. "Here comes the light!"
But, contrary to expectations, the light did not come, although the lad tried again and again.
"Try the other match, Harry; maybe this one got wet somehow and won't work," suggested Jack, stepping closer.
"I have tried them both," declared Harry in a faint voice.
"What's the matter, then?" demanded Jack excitedly.
"I guess they are those safety matches that will light only on the box," was Harry's explanation. "I haven't the box, either," he added in a voice scarcely above a whisper. "It's no go, boys!"
"Look through all your pockets," directed Ned, "and see if there isn't a scrap of box left by oversight. We must have a light!"
Frantically the three boys searched their pockets, but could discover no shred or vestige of a box on which to strike the impregnated safety matches held by Harry. At length they gave up the effort.
"That's peculiar!" declared Jack with emphasis. "Just think of all the matches used every day in the United States by thousands and thousands of people who never think of saving them. We have used a whole lot of matches ourselves needlessly, and now we want just one as badly as we ever wanted anything. It's fierce!"
"It surely is fierce," agreed Ned, "but we'll have to make the best of it. It seems peculiar, too," he went on, "that the rats haven't begun anything. They seem to be all about us."
"Yes, but they are not moving about very fast," observed Harry. "Maybe they 're afraid of us yet. Let's make a noise and scare them."
"How shall we do it?" asked Jack. "What will you make a noise with if you haven't anything to use? Tell me that!"
"Stamp on the floor good and hard; that'll scare them."
"All right; here goes!" agreed Jack, suiting the action to the word.
All three boys were startled at the result of Jack's stamping. A crackling sound was heard, followed by a tiny spurt of flame from the floor under his foot.
"Easy there, easy!" cried Harry, dropping to his knees. "That's just what we wanted. Don't move now, but give me those shavings!"
With trembling hands the lad took the shavings from Jack's hand. Carefully shielding the tiny flame from possible draughts of air, the boy held the point of one of the thin pieces of wood over the flare. In a moment it had caught fire. Licking up the curl, the flame gradually leaped from one piece of wood to another until the entire handful was ablaze.