Page 21 - Save the Last Dance for Me

morning, I mean really early, like two o’clock, the

phone began ringing and never seemed to stop. It
started with irate parents concerned about the

welfare of their sons, and the last call was from a

worried scoutmaster’s wife. Harry was in the
hospital awaiting hernia surgery. The boys were

alive and would soon be no worse for wear, though

some were suffering from severe hypothermia and
light burns. The fathers who had been on the

campout were ready to take up arms against us,

their leaders. The situation was bad, and to make

matters worse, I couldn’t even find out what had
happened. I had found out that the directors of the

Klondike Derby had asked our troop to go home,

but that's as far as I got.
I canceled my other assignments that

Saturday and went to visit Harry. He was sleeping,

and the doctor said he’d be all right. Nothing a

good surgery and six weeks of recovery couldn’t
heal. When I saw Harry, all his hair burned away,

slight burn blisters on his arms and face, and his

eyebrows that had just barely started recovering
were totally gone, I knew things weren’t good. I

asked Harry what had happened. He only said he

didn’t want to talk about it.

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