Chapter Twelve
LARRY'S FEAR
"DANNY!" Larry said, his voice hoarse and trembling. "If you've ever prayed in your life, pray now!"
"But I have been praying," the young woodsman replied. "I've been praying ever since you started to broadcast."
"Well, pray some more!"
Danny knelt in the cold and began to pray aloud. He could hear his cousin's labored breathing above the whistling wind and could almost feel his eyes staring at him.
"Dear Lord," he prayed, "help Larry to find You as his personal Saviour. Help him to confess his sin and put his trust in You."
When he had finished and gotten to his feet, Larry said abruptly, "What do you think they'll do to me, Danny?"
Danny only shook his head.
"You won't squeal on me, will you?" Larry went on.
"I'll have to tell the truth," the young woodsman managed.
"But they'll send me to the reformatory!" he pleaded. "I'm out on probation now!"
Danny looked at him silently. There was nothing he could say. In a moment or two he saw that Larry was shivering, and for the first time he realized that it was getting colder and that he too was almost frozen.
"I'm going to look around in here," he said, starting to crawl toward the tail section of the plane. "Maybe we can find something to wrap up in." A minute or so later he came back with two torn, greasy overcoats. "These won't be much help, but they'll be better than nothing," he said.
Larry took one of them and, without speaking to Danny, wrapped himself in it and hunched down in the wreckage out of the wind.
"If you just hadn't stuck your big nose into things back home, everything would have been all right," Larry grumbled.
Danny did not answer him. He was already praying for Joe and Glen. Finally he drifted off to sleep.
The next thing he knew a big, burly state trooper was shining a flashlight in his eyes and shaking him roughly.
"Wake up, young man!" the officer said.
"I—" Danny began uncertainly. And then he was wide awake! He sat up straight and looked around. There were five or six officers standing there.
"You boys really gave us a rough time," the trooper said sternly. "Ever since the alarm was turned in after your note was found, we've been combing these hills. If we hadn't picked up your broadcast, we never would have found you."
Danny turned toward Larry. Uncle Claude was there and had his arms around him.
"Joe and Glen!" Danny shouted, remembering their companions suddenly. "We've got to get them!"
"Are there more?" the trooper echoed in surprise.
"Two of them," Danny told him excitedly. "They're out on the cliff about half a mile from here. One of them's hurt badly."
"Well, that's a fine mess!" the officer exclaimed.
They sent Larry and his dad back to the car while several officers and the state trooper followed Danny along the narrow, rock-strewn path where he and Larry had climbed up.
"This is the place we go down," Danny told them.
Just then Glen shouted, "Hello! Hello!"
"Are you all right?"
"I...I think so, but we're awfully cold!"
By this time two or three of the men had descended to the first ledge, and one was on his way down to where Joe and Glen were lying, huddled closely together. He examined Joe hurriedly and directed the others to come down to where they were and help move him. It seemed hours until they finally brought him up to the trail.
The trip over the mountain to the road was a nightmare Danny never wanted to live through again. His feet and legs ached, and the lump of ice still lay in the pit of his stomach. The wind was driving the cold deeply into his bones. But they made it, and it wasn't long until they were at the hospital with the injured boy.
Before Danny and Glen quite realized what was happening, both the boys were whisked into one of the doctor's offices and examined thoroughly.
"Staying up in the hills on a night like this is enough to give you pneumonia and shock," the doctor said kindly. "We'll put you to bed here tonight where we can watch you."
"I'll be back in the morning to see you guys," the trooper said as he got ready to go, his voice grown suddenly harsh.
While Glen and Danny stared after him as he stalked out of the room, a nurse wheeled Larry into the ward and helped him get into bed. His face was white and drawn, and his lips were trembling uncertainly.
As soon as she left the room, Larry half rose up on his elbow and stared into Danny's eyes. "Clarence is out there!" he whispered hoarsely. "He's come to get me and take me away!"
“You boys really gave us a rough time.”
Chapter Thirteen
DANNY PRAYS FOR COURAGE
SOMETIME later Danny Orlis propped up on one elbow and turned over to look toward his cousin who was lying in the bed next to him. Danny couldn't see him very well, but he could hear his deep, unnatural breathing. The nurse had given Larry a hypo, and he was still asleep.
Danny shuddered involuntarily. The worst of it, he realized for the first time, was that it was his fault. He had been the only Christian close to Larry to try to win him to Christ. Oh, he had talked with him a couple of times, had asked him to go to Sunday school, had even prayed for him now and then. But he hadn't really, seriously tried to win Larry for Christ. If he had, his cousin wouldn't be in the trouble he was in now, and perhaps Joe wouldn't be lying up there fighting for his life.
The young woodsman rolled over on his stomach and, burying his head in his pillow, began to pray, asking God to forgive him for not trying harder to win Larry to Him. He was still praying when he finally drifted off to sleep. The next morning when he awoke, Larry was already awake, tossing restlessly in bed.
"Hi," Danny said cheerfully.
Larry turned toward him and sat up. "They're coming back to question me, Danny," he said, his voice sounding dull and far away. "They're going to send me to the reform school."
Danny turned toward the window so his cousin couldn't see his face, and Glen picked up the Bible that was lying on the stand beside his bed and began to thumb the pages.
Finally a nurse came in.
"How's Joe?" Danny asked quickly.
A shadow crossed her face. "He regained consciousness for a few minutes a little while ago," she said. With that she cranked up the heads of their beds. "After a wash, the girl will be along with your breakfast."
By the time the boys finished eating, Clarence, the county sheriff, and the state trooper came into the room. Larry looked up at them quickly and turned away.
"We want to find out what happened last night," the sheriff said gently. "And we want to know how you came to be up on the mountain in the first place."
Slowly Danny and Glen told the officers what had happened. Larry lay there listening, but he did not speak. Danny saw that he was twisting one corner of the sheet into a tight little knot and was biting his lip.
"If it hadn't been for Larry knowing how to work the radio in the wrecked plane, we wouldn't have been able to let anyone know where we were," Danny said hopefully.
"If it hadn't been for Larry," Clarence replied, "you wouldn't have been up there in the first place."
Up until that time the men had acted as though Larry hadn't even been in the room. Now they turned to him.
"I believe we'll want to take your story alone, son," the sheriff said softly. "I understand the other two boys are being released, so we'll just wait until after they dress and leave."
Silently Danny and Glen got into their clothes and then said good-bye to Larry.
It was late that afternoon when Uncle Claude finally brought Larry home from the hospital. Danny was sitting in the living room when the family car pulled into the driveway, and Larry got out and began to hobble up the steps on a pair of new crutches. The old defiant, self-reliant grin was on his lips as he stopped and opened the front door.
"How did you make out?" Danny asked him.
"How do you think I made
out?" he asked, his smile broadening. "Just like I always do—on the top of the pile."
Danny tried to get a chance to talk with Larry about Christ that night, but his cousin wouldn't even listen to him.
"You can go for that stuff if you want to," Larry snapped, "but I don't need it. I can take care of myself."
Then, before Danny had a chance to say anything more, he picked up his crutches and hobbled into the other room.
Danny and Glen called the hospital after supper and found that Joe was a little better. Then they went down to the basement to Danny's room to pray.
"You know," the young woodsman said a couple of hours later, "it certainly makes a difference having a Christian friend to share things with."
"Just think," Glen replied, "there are a lot of Christian kids all over the country who have to stand alone, who don't even have one Christian friend to run around with."
Danny got to school early the next morning and was in the room before anyone else, except the teacher. The little packet of tracts lay heavily in his pocket. It had all seemed so easy as he worked it out the night before, but now that the time had come for him to pass them out, he could feel the color rising in his cheeks.
With a prayer in his heart Danny went up to the teacher.
"Do you suppose I could put one of these on each desk?" he asked, handing her one of the tracts.
She read it rapidly.
"I'm sorry, Danny," she said, shaking her head, "but I can't let you. Of course, if you want to give them to your friends before school and between classes, that's another matter."
Danny gulped. Give tracts to the guys right to their faces and risk being laughed at? Maybe he could slip out and put them in the kids' coats as they hung in the hall or put them in their books when no one was looking. Certainly he could give them out that way. And it would do just as much good too. There wasn't any need of making a fool of himself. And yet, a vague uneasiness swept over him. And when Larry came hobbling into the room, a sharp sword of remorse was plunged into his heart.
Quietly he bowed his head and prayed, O God, give me the courage to do the things I know You would have me to do.
He had decided exactly how he was going to begin talking to Larry and some of the other guys and what he was going to say, but midway in the second period the superintendent came into the room and got Larry.
Danny's heart leaped into his throat as he saw the grim look on the superintendent's face. A moment later Clarence Gray went striding down the hall in the direction of the superintendent's office.
“I’m on top of the pile.”
Chapter Fourteen
LARRY'S PLEA
DANNY Orlis picked up his pencil and started to work, but his mind kept drifting back to his cousin. Clarence was probably firing questions at Larry about the transmitter now, so rapidly that the boy would scarcely have time to think. And to make it worse an expensive plane had been wrecked and some people nearly killed because of Larry's broadcasting. That would count against him like everything, that along with fact that he had been in trouble several times before and was still on probation. Danny sighed and looked out into the empty hall again. Wouldn't that conference in the superintendent's office ever end?
Glen was waiting for him in the hall at the end of that period.
"Where's Larry?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.
Danny nodded toward the office.
"They came and got him about an hour ago."
"I was afraid of that," Glen went on, walking beside Danny toward the gym, where they had their next class together.
When they got to the locker room, the other guys were already getting into their gym suits for Physical Education.
"Hey, Danny," one of them called, "what's that government radio agent friend of yours doing out here this morning?"
"Yeah," someone else chimed in, "and what did Superintendent Williams want with Larry? They called him out of English class, and nobody's seen him since."
Danny could feel the color coming up in his cheeks.
"You'll have to ask Mr. Williams or Larry or Clarence about that," he told them.
"You know what the score is," Chet Scofield put in, his voice rising. "You know all about it."
"You'll have to ask one of them," the young woodsman said again.
"Larry's in a jam," Chet continued. "My dad heard that much uptown last night."
"So'd mine," Dick Price put in, "and besides, they're doing just like they did the last time when they sent him to the Rock Rapids Reformatory. Mr. Williams and the sheriff had him in the office for a couple of days."
"Yeah," one of the other guys said, "Larry's always getting into some kind of trouble."
Danny's eyes were smarting as he got into his gym trunks and jersey. He guessed he knew that Larry was always getting into trouble. He'd had enough indication of it since he had been staying at Iron Mountain. But he hadn't done anything to help his cousin. He hadn't prayed for him as he should have. He hadn't tried to deal with him as he should have.
That first time he had tried to talk with Larry about Christ, his cousin had made fun of him until Danny hardly ever said anything about accepting Jesus as his Saviour until that awful night on the mountain. The thought stabbed the young woodsman like a knife. He really hadn't done much of anything to try to win Larry for Christ.
Short, slender Jack Anderson came up to Danny when he stepped into the gym and said softly, "Say, Danny, come over here a minute."
Together they walked off to one corner of the big basketball court.
"Is Larry in trouble because of that broadcasting over at his house night before last?"
Danny nodded without speaking.
"I was afraid of that," Jack answered. His face had gone a sickly white.
For a moment Danny did not understand. Then he remembered! Jack had been one of the guys who had been broadcasting too!
"Are they going to send him to the reform school?"
"I don't know," Danny replied seriously.
For an instant the smaller boy looked into Danny's eyes, pleading. "You won't tell them that I was in on it, will you, Danny?" he asked.
"If they ask me, Jack," he said softly, "I'll have to tell them the truth."
Somehow Danny got through the rest of the morning. Larry still didn't show up in any of his classes, and by noon the whole school was buzzing. Danny could hear it everywhere he went.
"Hi," Glen said, coming up to him shortly after the noon bell sounded. "Going home now?"
"I think I'll wait for Larry."
"I've been praying for him all morning," Glen said. Danny smiled at his Christian friend.
They only had an hour for lunch at high school, but Danny lingered in the halls until he thought most of the guys had gone on. However, a dozen or so swarmed around him the instant he came out the door. For five minutes or so they crowded around, plying him with questions. Danny didn't lie to them, but he didn't tell them anything about Larry either.
As they talked, he remembered the tracts that were lying in his pocket and began to finger them. His heart began to pound faster as he pulled one out of his pocket.
"What have you got there?" Chet demanded.
"Here," Danny tossed it to him.
Chet caught it gingerly.
Danny tossed one to each of the guys.
"I don't think you're going to get me to open this thing," one of them said, laughing. "I'm afraid it'll go off. Is it dynamite, Danny?"
"Could be," the young woodsman replied.
For a full minute the guys fingered their tracts before one of them opened his and began to read. The smile left his face, and for an instant it seemed to Danny that his cheeks went white. By this time the other guys had their tracts open and were reading too.
Nobody moved or said a word until Larry came out of the school white-faced and trembling and took hold of Danny's arm. Silently the gang melted away.
"They're going to send me away," Larry almost whispered when everyone el
se was gone.
Danny did not answer him.
"You're the only one who can save me, Danny," Larry went on.
"What can I do?"
"Clarence told the others that they could believe what you told them, Danny," Larry went on tensely. "If you just tell them that it wasn't me running the radio transmitter, they'll believe you. Then I won't have to go to the reformatory!"
“Larry’s always getting into some kind of trouble.”
Chapter Fifteen
DYNAMITE DAN
LARRY gulped hard, and for an instant that wild, trapped look flickered in his eyes.
"You didn't really see me at the transmitter, did you?" he asked with frantic eagerness.
"You were running it when I saw you," Danny answered reluctantly.
"But you couldn't be sure enough to testify on the witness stand, could you?" his cousin persisted. "I wasn't really running it. It was my transmitter, but I wasn't running it. The fact is, I kept telling them that they shouldn't."
"I heard you through the door," Danny went on miserably. "And when one of the guys opened it to come out, I saw you sitting with one hand on the set and the other holding the mike. I'd have to testify that you were operating it, Larry."
"But you don't need to tell them all that, do you?" he blurted, his voice rising angrily. "If you don't, I'm—" He choked until he could not speak. For almost a minute he chewed on his lip, fighting to keep back the tears. Finally he was able to speak again. "I'll go to the reformatory! That's what'll happen!"
Danny could feel a lump growing in his own throat. He swallowed hard.
"And, Danny," Larry exclaimed in a hoarse whisper, "you're the only one who can do anything about it!"
"I can't lie for you, Larry," the young woodsman said slowly.
"Sending me to the reformatory won't do anybody any good," his cousin said. "It won't help those people who got hurt when the plane was wrecked." He paused for a moment. "Look at all the harm it would do to Mom and Dad and me. And, Danny, I didn't mean to hurt anyone. Honestly I didn't."
"I'm sure of that," Danny agreed. "Jimmy and I almost got into the same sort of mess back on the Angle."
Danny Orlis Goes to School Page 5