diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/69935-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69935-0.txt | 8523 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 8523 deletions
diff --git a/old/69935-0.txt b/old/69935-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 763cffa..0000000 --- a/old/69935-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8523 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Safety First Club, by W. T. -Nichols - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Safety First Club - -Author: W. T. Nichols - -Illustrator: F. A. Anderson - -Release Date: February 2, 2023 [eBook #69935] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Demian Katz, Craig Kirkwood, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Images courtesy - of the Digital Library@Villanova University.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SAFETY FIRST CLUB *** - - -Transcriber’s Notes: - -Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - -Additional Transcriber’s Notes are at the end. - - * * * * * - -[Illustration: HE DESCENDED THE SLOPE] - - - - -THE SAFETY FIRST CLUB - - - BY - W. T. NICHOLS - - Illustrated by - F. A. ANDERSON - - THE PENN PUBLISHING - COMPANY PHILADELPHIA - 1916 - - * * * * * - -COPYRIGHT 1916 BY THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY - -[Illustration] - -The Safety First Club - - * * * * * - - _To - M. H. M._ - - _A youthful critic with the precious art of - combining frankness and friendliness, - this book is appreciatively dedicated_ - - - - -Introduction - - -The Safety First idea, along with some other sound rules of conduct -which have been hammered out by hard experience of the race, is often -easier to put into words than into practice. Like other brakes on -machines or men it sometimes seems to cause too much friction, with -resulting protest, especially from youngsters impatient of warnings of -dangers possible rather than presently pressing. - -The fact is, however, that these objectors fail to recognize the true -spirit of the rule. Nobody expects active boys and girls to be wrapped -in cotton wool and stored away out of all harm’s reach. They have -their work to do in the world, and in doing it must take certain risks -as the rest of us do. But there are unnecessary risks, just as there -are other risks which are not to be avoided; and it is in shunning -these unnecessary risks, in learning that reasonable caution is not -cowardice, that recklessness is no proof of bravery, and that the way -to redeem a mistake is not to repeat it, that the rule is to be truly -honored. - -In “The Safety First Club” and the volumes which are to follow it are -set forth certain adventures of boys who have to deal with problems -such as confront healthy young Americans, boys well intentioned but not -wise beyond their years, fond of the open, restive under restraint. It -is the author’s hope that in their haps and mishaps they may be found -likably human. - - - - -Contents - - - I. “HEDGEHOG DAY” 11 - - II. SAM TAKES CHANCES 23 - - III. THE LUCK OF A LONG SHOT 34 - - IV. THE CLUB GETS A NEW NAME 43 - - V. SAM FACES THE MUSIC 61 - - VI. DEALING WITH THE OGRE 72 - - VII. THE RECKONING 87 - - VIII. BEGINNING THE TEST 96 - - IX. POKE AND STEP PUT THEIR HEADS TOGETHER 111 - - X. QUEER TROUBLES 124 - - XI. THE CLUB GETS A CLUE 135 - - XII. PUNISHMENT POSTPONED 146 - - XIII. NOT ON THE PROGRAM 159 - - XIV. SENT TO COVENTRY 173 - - XV. THE CLUB ENDORSES ITSELF 182 - - XVI. SAM HAS A RUDE AWAKENING 194 - - XVII. MORE SURPRISES 202 - - XVIII. LON DISCUSSES CROOKED THINKING 211 - - XIX. OF DUELS AND CONSCIENCE 222 - - XX. SAM MAKES A SPEECH 230 - - XXI. LON PLAYS DETECTIVE 239 - - XXII. TOM ORKNEY CHANGES HIS INTENTION 252 - - XXIII. LON GATES ENTERTAINS 266 - - XXIV. PETER GROCHE SCORES AGAIN 281 - - XXV. THE BLIZZARD 294 - - XXVI. OLD FRIENDS MEET 307 - - XXVII. PETER’S GRUDGE 319 - - XXVIII. SAM MAKES CHOICE 334 - - XXIX. SQUARING THE ACCOUNT 343 - - XXX. IN FULL SETTLEMENT 355 - - - - -Illustrations - - - PAGE - - HE DESCENDED THE SLOPE _Frontispiece_ - - HIS FINGER TREMBLED ON THE TRIGGER 37 - - “YOU’RE LOOKING FOR TROUBLE” 156 - - “HOLD HARD, THERE!” 216 - - “HE’S COMING ’ROUND ALL RIGHT” 283 - -The Safety First Club - - * * * * * - -The Safety First Club - - - - -CHAPTER I “HEDGEHOG DAY” - - -Sam Parker stepped out upon the side porch of his father’s house, -closing the door behind him with a slam. There was a frown on his face, -which by no means became it; and the corners of his mouth drooped -sulkily. He was, as a matter of fact, in a fit of temper, which did -not lessen as he surveyed the dull, gray sky, and saw its promise of a -dismal day. - -“’Nother spoiled Saturday!” he grumbled. “Nowhere to go and nothing to -do--oh, thunderation!” - -Now, to tell the truth, it may be that the weather had much to do with -Sam’s pessimism, just as it often influences persons a great deal older -and wiser than this boy of sixteen. Sam, commonly, was good-natured -enough. This day, though, things had seemed to go wrong from the very -start. He had overslept; one of his shoes had contrived to hide itself -under the bureau; his necktie stubbornly had declined to slip into a -smooth and even knot; he was late at breakfast, and the oatmeal was -cold, and the eggs were as hard as the Fate which he was beginning to -suspect was pursuing him. He had attempted criticism, and his father -had checked him rather sharply with the reminder that the breakfast -hour was 7:30 and not 7:50. His mother had not hastened to his defense; -and even Maggie, the cook, frequently his ally and dispenser of -consoling doughnuts and cookies, had failed him when he sought sympathy -in the kitchen. - -“You got up wrong foot foremost,” she told him. “Get along with you -now! This is bakin’ day, and I can’t be bothered.” - -Sam, thus repulsed, had clumped out of the kitchen; stormed into the -hall; snatched up his cap and reefer; stamped across the dining-room, -and flung himself out of the house, without visible improvement in -his spirits or his condition. If it was dark within, it was gloomy -without. He looked up the street and down; nobody was in sight. He -buttoned his coat to the neck, and thrust his hands into his pockets: -the world, he perceived, was chilly as well as lonely. Then, of a -sudden, he grinned, fleetingly and reluctantly, at vagrant memory of -the old story of the child that threatened to go out and eat two smooth -worms and three fuzzy fellows because nobody loved it. The baby’s -troubles were ridiculously like his own, and for a trying second he -realized the resemblance. Then he was frowning harder than ever, with -mouth drooping still more sulkily. - -In sunnier moods Sam Parker was a good-looking boy. Nobody would have -called him pretty; he wasn’t of the “pretty” type, being, indeed, -rather wholesome and hearty, with plenty of color in his cheeks--and -not a few freckles. For a youth who was rapidly adding to his inches, -in the process known as getting his growth, he carried himself well; -though, as everybody knows, this period in a boy’s life is not that -at which grace of figure or movement is most marked. In other words, -there were times when Sam did not know what to do with his hands or -his feet, and impressed the painful fact upon all beholders, especially -because of a certain impulsiveness, which led him now and then into -embarrassing ventures. - -Standing on the porch and glowering at all he beheld, Sam was not -attractive. Hannibal, his bull terrier, trotting from the barn, -noted the storm signals his master was flying, and halting at a safe -distance, made great pretense of scratching for a flea which did not -exist. Sam whistled, and Hannibal grew busier than ever. The boy took -an impatient step, and the dog stopped scratching and bolted for the -barn. - -Sam, striding after him, pulled up abruptly. A thick-set man in cap, -and overalls, and boots, and with a carriage rug in one hand and a -brush in the other, appeared in the big doorway. - -“H’lo, Sam!” was his greeting. “Good day, ain’t it?” - -“Good for nothing!” snapped the boy. “Rotten weather!” - -The man’s eyes twinkled. They were pleasant eyes, with little fans of -fine wrinkles at the corners, and they lighted up his smooth-shaven, -weather-beaten face amazingly. - -“Huh! Guess you ain’t looked at the calendar lately. This ain’t June; -it’s the fust day of December. And I’m tellin’ you this is pretty good -weather for December. What if there ain’t no snow? The wheelin’s all -right--your daddy took the car out this mornin’.” - -Sam nodded. “I know--he went over to Epworth.” - -“Why didn’t you go along?” - -“What’d be the use?” - -Now, this was not strictly ingenuous. Possibly because of his sulks, -Sam had not been invited to accompany his father. - -“Sure enough! What’d ’a’ been the use?” said the man with an odd grin. - -Sam reddened. “Look here! Bet you I could have gone if I’d wanted to, -Lon!” - -Lon, otherwise Alonzo Gates, hired man and general factotum, made no -response to the challenge, but fell to dusting the rug vigorously. Sam, -gloomy browed, drew nearer. - -“Tell you, Lon, I could have gone. No fun, though--ride’s too cold. -That’s the trouble with this weather--no coasting, no skating, no -football, nothing!” - -“So?” said the man non-committally. - -Hobe, the barn cat, sauntered out of the door. Sam kicked at the -animal, which took refuge behind a wooden bucket standing just inside -the sill, and from this cover snarled defiance. Whereupon Sam kicked -again. This time his foot struck something--the bucket. Over it went, -and out shot a gallon or two of soapy water. Hobe darted back into the -barn. Lon moved aside nimbly, but not nimbly enough. Splash! went the -water upon his boots. - -“Wal, now, but you have gone and done it!” he ejaculated. “Nice mess to -clean up, ain’t it?” - -In Sam’s perverse mood the one thing he cared for was to hide the -regret he felt. - -“Huh! Oughtn’t to have stuff standing round like that. Why didn’t you -tell me?” - -Lon paused in his labors. “My! but this world’s awful crowded this -mornin’, ain’t it?” he remarked. “First there wasn’t room for you ’n’ -Hobe; then you jest couldn’t stand for that bucket treadin’ on your -toes. Wal, wal!” - -Sam snorted wrathfully. What wouldn’t he have given for speech so -cuttingly sarcastic that Lon must throw up his hands and beg mercy! -But, effective words failing him, he could do no better than offer -sounds which were disagreeable rather than intelligible. - -Lon chuckled; then grew serious. “See here, Sam!” said he. “I kind o’ -guess this is hedgehog day for you, ain’t it?” - -“Huh?” - -“When you come to think it over,” Lon went on, “a hedgehog’s about -the one critter you can’t think of as ever snugglin’ up nice and cozy -to anything or anybody. Now, I knew a feller once that had a tame -woodchuck that liked to be patted; and I’ve seen the tigers and big -cats in circuses purrin’ round their trainers; but I never heard tell -of a hedgehog actin’ real sociable and wantin’ to sit in anybody’s -lap. And, so far’s I can rec’lect, I never run across a hedgehog that -you’d call all-around popular with the neighbors. Whenever one gets -close to anybody, he sticks his spines into him. And when a human -gets to actin’ like a hedgehog--why that’s when he’s havin’ a hedgehog -day--see?” - -“Huh!” said Sam again. - -Lon gave the rug another flick with the brush. - -“By and large, son,” he remarked, “it ain’t good business to have -hedgehog days. I know, I know! When you’re feelin’ that way, that’s the -way you feel, as the fox said to the bear in the trap. But you ain’t -doin’ yourself no good, and you ain’t any perticular help to the rest -of the community.” - -“Hang the community!” - -“Jest what the hedgehog says,” quoth Lon tranquilly. He carried his rug -into the barn; brought out another; brushed skilfully for a minute. - -“Hunt up some of the boys, Sam,” he advised. “Try lowerin’ your spines, -and see if they won’t keep down after a while.” - -“Don’t want to.” - -“Bad as that, eh?” - -Sam disdained to make reply. Lon pursed his lips. - -“Sonny, this won’t do. It’s bad medicine. Say, where’ll you be at if -you behave like this when you go to St. Mark’s?” - -“I’ll get along all right.” - -Lon brushed furiously for a little. “I--I dunno’s there’s but--but one -way--for some folks to learn things,” he said jerkily. “When you’re -there--jest one among two-three hundred boys--it’ll be different, now I -tell you! We put up with you; they won’t.” - -“Huh! Who’s afraid?” - -“I’d be--if I was you.” - -“Bah!” - -Lon shook his head. “Sam,” he said, “if I thought this was a real -in-growin’ attack, I’d be worried a heap wuss than I am. But I’m -worried enough as it is. Now, I’ll give you a good tip. If you don’t -want to see the other boys, go for a good, long tramp. Walk it off! -That’s jest what the real hedgehog can’t do--his legs ain’t long -enough.” - -“No fun walking--day like this.” - -Lon was a patient soul. “Wal, why don’t you go huntin’, then?” - -“What for? Rabbits?” - -“If you can’t get anything bigger. But you might land a shot at a deer. -’Member what day this is? First of December! Law on deer goes off, and -stays off till the fifteenth.” - -“Oh!” said Sam. In the new interest he almost forgot, for an instant, -that he had a grievance against the universe. But it was only for an -instant. “But I wouldn’t have the luck to get a shot at a buck, or a -doe, either. The crowd will have started out early, and scared every -deer within ten miles of town,” he concluded pessimistically. - -“Don’t be too sure of that.” - -“’Tis sure!” Sam insisted. “Then what’ll I do for a gun?” - -“Got your own, haven’t you?” - -“What! Try for a deer with a ‘twenty-two’?” - -“Why not? It’s big enough, if it gets to the right spot.” - -Sam fell back to his second line of defense. “Well, there’ll be no deer -anywhere near town.” - -“Who says so?” - -“I do!” snapped the boy. - -Lon bent toward him, and lowered his voice. “Sam, a feller was tellin’ -me last night about a herd that’s been feedin’ in close--right back of -old Bill Marlow’s barn--big buck and three-four more. Old orchard in -there, you know. And that’s so nigh to town most folks won’t look for -’em there. But there they be--or there they were as late as yesterday, -anyhow. And, by gum! if I was you, I’d scout out that way on the -chance--that is, if your mother says it’s all right,” he added hastily. - -In spite of himself, Sam’s ambition was fired. A shot at a deer! That -would be worth while. - -“You--you’re certain they were there yesterday?” he asked. - -“Bill Marlow told me himself. And you can be sure of one thing--he -didn’t tell many other folks. Bill ain’t no gossip.” - -Sam nodded. He knew something of Mr. Marlow’s habit of taciturnity. -Doubter though he might be, the prospect was brightening. He had heard -old hunters tell stories of cases in which deer had been killed almost -in the outskirts of the village, while sportsmen ranging farther afield -had been rewarded with sight of neither buck nor doe. - -“Well, I suppose I might as well have a look,” he said not too -graciously. - -“Of course you might!” - -Sam took a step toward the house. “Of course, with my luck----” - -“Oh, you never can tell,” Lon reminded him. - -“Still, I might as well be wasting time that way as any other,” said -Sam sourly, and quickened his pace. - -“Don’t forget to tell your mother!” Lon called after him. - -Sam waved a hand in reply, and went on to the house. - - - - -CHAPTER II SAM TAKES CHANCES - - -In simple fairness it should be said that Sam Parker meditated no -breach of parental authority. Indeed, as he was permitted to own a -little rifle, and to hunt for small game, it was possible that no -serious objection would have been raised to his quest for deer, though -there might have been scant faith in his success. But Sam, as it was -fated, was not to secure permission for his expedition. - -Mrs. Parker was not in the dining-room. Sam saw that the room was -unoccupied, and went on to the library. It, too, failed to reward him -for his search. So did the living-room. He strode into the hall, and -took station by the foot of the stairs. - -“Mother! Oh, Mother!” he called. “Say, Mother! Mother!” - -There was no reply from above stairs or below. - -“But I say, Mother!” His voice rose shrilly in his impatience. “Where -are you? Oh, Ma, Ma, Ma!” - -A door at the back of the hall opened, but the head which appeared was -that of Maggie. - -“Don’t make such a racket, Sam!” she cautioned. “What do you want, -anyway?” - -“Where’s Mother? I’ve got to see her--right off!” - -“Well, she ain’t here.” - -“Why not?” demanded the boy hotly. - -Maggie tossed her head. “Because she can’t very well be in two places -at once. And she’s run over to see Mis’ Lake for a minute.” - -Sam stamped his foot. “Minute--nothing! I know what that means. She’ll -stay half an hour.” - -“Well, why shouldn’t she, if she wants to?” said Maggie coolly. And -then, being busy, she closed the door and went back to her work. - -Sam scowled; hesitated briefly; reached resolution; marched into the -library. His little rifle stood in its appointed place against the -wall, beside his father’s double-barreled gun. “The armory corner” of -the library was a family joke; for though Sam’s rifle was frequently -in use, the shotgun had not been taken out of the room in years. It was -a fine weapon, of a noted make, and highly prized by its owner, who, -however, had not hunted for many seasons; though regularly he planned -expeditions in the woods, and bought a fresh stock of ammunition. - -Sam laid eager hold upon his rifle; then, of a sudden, seemed to be -seized by scorn of it. After all, it was never meant for big game. Why, -with its short cartridges and light charges of powder, it was hardly -more than a toy! Really, it was intended for target practice. - -“Yet, for all that, it’s a rifle,” said the boy to himself. It was odd -how, once his prejudice was aroused, arguments presented themselves to -strengthen his objections. “And the law says you can’t hunt deer with -rifles.” - -Here he was speaking by the book. The statute, which provided an open -season from December 1st to December 15th, also forbade the use of -rifles by sportsmen. Possibly a very lenient judge might have held that -Sam’s “pop-gun” hardly classed with the high-power, long-range weapons -against which the law was aimed, and might have deemed it annoying -rather than dangerous to two-footed or four-footed creatures; but Sam, -at the moment, was not disposed to be liberal in his interpretation. He -restored the piece to its place. He picked up the shotgun. - -Temptation was strong upon him. Wasn’t it true that if he had not -been told that he could use the gun he also had not been expressly -forbidden to lay hands upon it? Nothing had been said about it either -way. And didn’t his father wish him to have some knowledge of firearms? -Of course he did! Oh, but it was a wonderfully persuasive voice, -which seemed to be whispering in his ear! It was so seductive that it -frightened him--a very, very little. - -Sam hastily put down the gun. Yet he lingered in its neighborhood. Half -absently he opened a drawer in his father’s desk. There, in a corner, -was a paper box, labeled “3-1/4 drams, smokeless; shot 00.” Cartridges -for deer shooting! Surely here was Fate’s own finger pointing the way. - -The boy drew a long breath. He lifted the cover of the box; took out -half a dozen of the cartridges; thrust them into a pocket. Then he -caught up the shotgun, and strode out of the library. - -There was nobody to halt him or question him. Maggie was fully occupied -in the kitchen, and his mother had not returned. Leaving the house by -the front door, he avoided chance of observation by Lon Gates, who -still was at work in the barn. Not that Lon would have stopped him; -for the hired man would have supposed him to be sallying forth with -his mother’s permission. Nevertheless, Sam preferred to have his going -unnoted. He turned the corner of the house--the corner away from the -barn; stole back through the yard; climbed a fence, and found himself -in a narrow lane. It led to a side street, which, in turn, brought him -to a road running into the country. - -His gun tucked under his arm, Sam walked briskly; and as the Parker -house happened to be on an edge of the town, it was but a very few -minutes before he had open fields on either hand. Ahead of him was -the low hill on which the Marlow farmhouse stood; and farther on were -loftier wooded summits. In summer the scenery of the region was -pleasantly picturesque, but on an overcast December day a stranger -might have found the prospect somewhat dreary. Sam, cheered by the -spirit of adventure, and the better for the exercise, began to shake -off his sulkiness; and he was whistling almost blithely when, at a -bend in the road, he saw two boys approaching. Physically, they were -in marked contrast. One was tall and thin, with a peculiarly angular -effect at elbows and knees; the other was short and plump, with a -round, good-humored face. Both hailed Sam eagerly. - -“Hi there! Where are you going? What you doing with that artillery?” -sang out the tall lad. - -“Don’t fire! I’ll surrender,” chuckled his companion. - -Sam halted. He brought his gun to parade rest. An onlooker might have -suspected that he was not seeking secrecy regarding errand or armament -in the case of these two friends. - -“Hullo, Step!” said he. “Same to you, Poke! And what am I doing? Oh, -just looking around on the chance of bagging something.” - -The tall youth was carrying a package, wrapped in a newspaper. He laid -it on the ground, and took the gun from Sam’s hands, balancing the -weapon lovingly and finally raising it to his shoulder. - -“Gee, but what a daisy!” he exclaimed. “Whose is it? Yours?” - -“Oh, it isn’t exactly mine, Step, but I’m using it,” said Sam. - -Any boy could have told how Clarence Jones came by his nickname. “Step” -was an abbreviation of “Step-ladder”; and undeniably Master Jones -did bear a resemblance to that valuable, if not graceful, article of -household equipment. - -“Here, let me take the shooting-iron!” the plump youth urged. His name -was Arthur Green, but he was called “Poke,” because one so easily could -dig a finger into his fat sides. Having placed the basket he had been -carrying beside Step’s bundle, his hands were free to lay hold upon the -gun. There was a little tussle, and Poke captured the prize. - -“My eyes! but this is a crackerjack!” was his comment. “Jiminy, but -you’re the lucky chap, Sam! What are you after?” - -Sam did his best to appear blasé. “Oh, thought maybe I might get a shot -at a buck.” - -The reception of the remark was not flattering. “You!” jeered Step; -Poke laughed. - -“Why not?” Sam demanded, indignantly. - -“That’s ri-right; why not?” Poke was quivering with amusement. “All -you’ve got to do is to hold the gun and pull the trigger; and if only a -deer happens to walk in the way, the gun’ll do the rest.” - -Sam snatched the weapon from the jester. “Oh, cut the comedy!” he -snapped. “There’s nothing funny about it. I’ll bet you fifty men and -boys are out for deer to-day, and I’ve just as good a chance as any -of them can have of running into a herd. And if I want to take a -chance----Come, now! what’s ridiculous in that?” - -Step was disposed to side with Sam. “There’s sense, Poke. Stop your -kidding. I want to ask Sam something.” - -“Well, what is it?” queried Master Parker guardedly. - -“It’s about St. Mark’s. Are you sure you’re going there?” - -“Why--why----” Sam hesitated. “Why, I’m practically sure, I guess. -Father and I were talking it over last week; and I gathered that if I -passed the mid-year examinations here he’d let me transfer.” - -Step was rubbing his chin. “Well, that’s what I wanted to know. I’ve -been campaigning to get my folks to send me, but they’re hanging off -till they learn what your father will do with you.” - -Sam’s petulance had vanished. “Great Scott, Step, but it would be -cracking if we could go together!” he cried. “Say, Poke, get after your -family! We three have been pals ever since we can remember. It’d be -bully to take the gang to St. Mark’s.” - -Poke shook his head. “Too bad, but there’s no hope for me. Little old -High School has got to be good enough for Yours Truly.” - -“Oh, the school’s all right,” said Sam. “Only--as my father puts -it--it’s case of general versus special. We can fit for college here, -but the preparatory course is but one of several, while at St. Mark’s -it’s the whole thing. That ought to mean a better ‘fit.’ And you know -the fun the fellows have there, and the athletics, and all the rest of -it.” - -Poke’s expression was uncommonly serious. “You’ve set your heart on -going, Sam, haven’t you?” - -“It’ll be broken if I don’t go.” - -Poke gave a funny little sigh. “Oh, well, they’ll need some of us to -stay home and run the errands, I reckon. And I guess I’m unanimously -elected. Here’s one, for instance.” And he picked up his basket. - -“What have you got there?” Sam asked. - -“Eggs! Two dozen--all Mrs. Trask could spare. And fifty-five cents a -dozen! Say, when I’m carrying this basket, I feel like a walking cash -register!” - -Step had resumed possession of his package. “And here’s one of Mrs. -Trask’s roosters--five and a half pounds, dressed. I’m some plutocrat -myself.” - -Sam shouldered his gun. “We’re all pretty richly loaded to-day,” said -he. “I suppose if I kill an eight-point buck you won’t care to have me -send a haunch to either of you?” - -“Oh, well, I’ll take it--as a favor to you,” quoth Step. - -“Same here!” chimed in Poke. Then he was seized by an idea. “Look here, -Sam! If you shoot anything--short of a heifer calf--bring it down to -the club this afternoon, and we’ll have a feed. Both of us are going to -be there.” - -“But come, anyway,” urged Step. “If you don’t hit bird or beast, you’ll -have a story to tell of the big ones that got away.” - -Sam nodded. “All right; I’ll be there,” he promised readily. - - - - -CHAPTER III THE LUCK OF A LONG SHOT - - -At the base of the hill crowned by the Marlow house the woods came -close to the road. Years before the pines had been cut off, and in -their place had come in a second growth of hard wood, scrubby, tangled -and dense. On many of the trees, especially the oaks, dead leaves still -were thick, affording cover for game and adding considerably to the -difficulties of hunting novices. - -Sam climbed the fence, and plunged into the thickets to the right. -It was his intention to work around the base of the hill, and thus -reach the old orchard, of which Lon Gates had spoken; but he quickly -discovered that the plan was more easily made than carried out. There -was a good deal of underbrush, and the ground was rough, stony in -places and swampy in the tiny valleys. Moreover, as he tried to advance -as silently as possible, and to keep a keen, if limited, lookout, -his progress was slow as well as wearisome. With all his vigilance, -however, he saw nothing and heard nothing to indicate the presence of -anything which would serve as target for his aim. No rabbit scurried -away, and there was no whir of wings among the branches. As for -deer--why, there was nothing to hint that buck or doe was to be found -thereabouts. - -He had slipped a couple of cartridges into his gun, and felt prepared -for any emergency; but an emergency declined to present itself. Even -when he reached the little brook, which skirted the hill, the silence -of the woods was unbroken, except by the subdued murmur of the stream. -He paused for a moment, listening intently but vainly; then moved on, -following the course of the brook. The going was now a trifle easier, -though clumps of trees and bushes still narrowed the view. - -For perhaps a quarter of an hour his progress was absolutely -uneventful, and unrelieved by even a false alarm. A turn in the brook -warned him that he had passed the farmhouse, and was nearing the old -orchard. More cautiously than ever he changed his course, and began to -climb the slope on his right, the first, as he knew, of a series of low -ridges. He reached its top without mishap, and halted to reconnoiter. - -From somewhere, afar off, the wind brought a sound to his ears, which -set his pulse bounding and made him tighten his hold on his gun. It was -a sound he could not mistake, faint though it was. Some other hunter -had found something to fire at; perhaps the lucky fellow had sent a -charge of buckshot into a deer! - -Just in front of Sam, and on the verge of the farther slope, was a mass -of tangled bushes. He dropped to his knees, and slowly tunneled a way -through the barrier. From its shelter he could look down into a ravine, -beyond which rose the second ridge. - -For several minutes he lay motionless in his burrow, peering into the -gully and straining his ears for the rustle of branches or the crack of -dried twig. Once he thought he heard both from the lower ground to his -left; but he could not be sure, and the disturbance was not repeated. - -[Illustration: HIS FINGER TREMBLED ON THE TRIGGER] - -Suddenly, from another direction--straight across the ravine and near -the top of the ridge--came sounds of movements in the undergrowth. -Instinctively, Sam brought the gun to his shoulder; its muzzle barely -protruded from the branches. His finger trembled on the trigger. And -then his eager eye had a glimpse of a darker patch amidst the dried -leaves, a patch which seemed to be moving very, very slowly. - -Sam had heard tales of “buck fever,” and had laughed at the plight -of its victims; but now he could sympathize with them. His heart was -pumping furiously; he was trembling from head to foot; every muscle -seemed to be relaxed and helpless. And, as if to mock him, that dark -spot across the ravine grew clearer and more distinct. It was too high -from the ground to suggest the presence of any of the smaller animals -likely to be found in the woods. - -“That--that’s a deer over there!” Sam told himself desperately. “It--it -can’t be anything else!” - -With an effort he summoned all his will. The swaying barrels along -which he glanced steadied. His finger pressed the trigger. There was a -roar which seemed to him as loud as thunder. His right shoulder ached -under what was like a smart blow from the butt of the gun. A thin wisp -of smoke blew away from the muzzle, and was lost in the branches. - -On the other side of the gully was violent commotion. The dark spot -vanished. In its stead appeared the bare head of a man! - -Sam uttered a queer, faint, choking cry of horror. The gun dropped from -his hands. His head sank to the ground, and he lay, face downward, for -the moment utterly overcome. Through his recklessness and folly he -had shot a fellow being. Terrible certainty was his that he had not -missed his aim, and that he had wounded, perhaps fatally, the victim -of his criminal carelessness. There flashed upon him all the possible -consequences of his act--arrest, imprisonment, disgrace; sorrow and -suffering for his parents; pain and anguish for the stranger, even if -he survived his wounds. - -For a little Sam closed his eyes, but he could not keep from his -ears the ominous sounds from the other ridge. The man had not cried -out; but there was a wild crashing of brush, as if he were writhing -convulsively in the thicket. Presently the sounds grew less distinct. -The man must be weakening from loss of blood! Sam’s imagination -pictured him lying in a crimson pool, and the boy shuddered at the -thought. Yet it nerved him to the duty which he knew was his to do. - -Sam had faults enough, but lack of courage to face the music, as the -saying goes, was not among them. Plainly, the way for retreat was open -for him, if he chose to take it; there was nobody to interfere. But -Sam, once he had recovered somewhat from the shock of his disaster, set -himself resolutely to the task of making such amends as he might. - -He crawled out of the protecting bushes, and got upon his feet. For -a moment or two he stood, listening intently; but now there was no -sound from beyond the ravine. Then, with a sort of grim and unhappy -determination, he began to descend the slope. At the bottom he paused -again, but heard nothing either to lessen or to increase his anxiety. -Then he went on, climbing doggedly and steadily to the clump where -first had appeared the dark spot, and then the head of a man. The -quiet of the place was unbroken. A new and terrible fear laid hold upon -him: perhaps the wounded man had already succumbed. It needed all his -grit and courage at last to part the branches and look in at the spot -where the man had stood. - -Sam looked, and looked again; and felt that he could not believe the -evidence of his eyes. For three or four feet in each direction the -brush had been trampled down, but there was nobody there! - -A great sense of relief filled the boy. At all events, he had not -killed anybody! There was even a second in which he cherished wild hope -that what he had seen had been merely a vision raised by some trick of -over-taxed nerves. But the hope was doomed to swift dismissal. There -was blood on the dried leaves on the ground--not much blood, to be -sure, but enough to make a fresh, dark stain. - -Kneeling, Sam examined the sanguinary traces very carefully. As he -rose, his expression curiously combined satisfaction and bewilderment. -It was manifest that the stranger’s wound had neither bled copiously -nor crippled him; and that he had been able to make off. But whither -had he gone? Why had he not charged across the gully? And why had he -not raised a warning shout to prevent a second shot? - -“Jiminy!” said Sam to himself. “Jiminy! but I don’t believe he got -sight of me at all! I was covered by the bushes, and there was hardly -any smoke, and if he were looking another way--why--why----” He broke -off, frankly unable to weigh and decide the probabilities of the -strange affair. - -There still remained the possibility of finding and following the man’s -trail; but Sam was not especially skilled in such matters. He fancied -that for a few yards he could make out evidences of somebody forcing a -way through the undergrowth, but then he came to a sort of woods path -along the backbone of the ridge, and there lost the slender clews upon -which he had depended. Certainly he could discover no more drops of -blood. - -Sam went back to the trampled space, and searched it minutely from end -to end, and from side to side. He had his trouble for his pains. He -found nothing to throw light upon the mystery. - -“Well, this does beat me!” he confessed, and shook his head in -perplexity. “I never heard of anything like it. And I don’t want to -hear of anything like it again--ugh!” He gave a little shiver. “I know -when I’ve had enough--and too much. I’m going home, and I’m going to -get there, and put up this gun, as quick as my legs will carry me to -the house. And you can bet I’m going to keep quiet about this. And--and -I hope the other fellow will keep quiet, too. Come now, Sam Parker! -Brace up! Forward march!” - -Thus encouraging himself, Master Sam set off at a round pace for the -highway, but when he reached it his speed lessened. He had a new sense -of merciful escape from perils when he was out of the dark woods and in -the open road; and with it came a peculiar weakness and uncertainty in -his knees. He was glad to sit down on a boulder beside the ditch and -rest for what seemed to him a long, long time. Finally he rose, and -trudged toward the town. He went slowly, and his face was thoughtful. - - - - -CHAPTER IV THE CLUB GETS A NEW NAME - - -It was well after noon when Sam came up the narrow lane behind the -Parker place, and scaled the back fence. Hasty observation from its top -showed him that the coast was clear. He stole through the yard, kept -the house between himself and the barn, and let himself in at the front -door. - -The house was as quiet as well ordered homes generally are at that -hour, when dinner has been disposed of, and supper is still afar off. -Sam tiptoed into the library. With feverish haste he put his father’s -gun in its place, first removing the cartridges from the breach. Then -he opened the desk drawer, and restored his stock of cartridges to -their box. He hesitated a moment over the empty shell, being, indeed, -tempted to slip it in with the rest. At a casual glance the box would -then seem to be full. But Sam, with all his imperfections, was not -given to tricks and deceits. - -“I won’t do it!” he said, with decision, and slipped the shell into his -pocket. - -As he stepped into the hall, Maggie hailed him from the top of the -stairs. - -“Is that you, Sam?” she called. “I thought I heard the front door open, -and I wondered who ’twas.” - -So she hadn’t seen him enter the house; therefore she could not -know that he had been carrying the gun. Thus was another danger of -investigation avoided. - -“Yes; I came in that way,” he said. “Father home yet?” - -“No.” - -“Where’s Mother?” - -“Lon’s drivin’ her over to see old Mis’ Hardee at Webster Mills.” - -There are times when things do seem to have been arranged most -fortunately. Sam could have thrown up his cap and cheered. But Maggie -was beginning to descend the stairs. - -“Look here, Sam Parker! Why didn’t you come home to dinner?” she -demanded. - -“Oh, I’m all right. I don’t want anything to eat.” - -Maggie continued to descend the stairs. “Don’t, eh? Where’d you get -dinner? Did the Joneses invite you?” - -“No.” - -“The Greens, then?” - -“Why--why--no; they didn’t.” - -Maggie had reached the foot of the flight. “So you come traipsin’ home -after everything’s cleaned up and put away, and expect me to muss up -my kitchen for you? I like that! Well, you can just guess again, Sam -Parker!” - -“But I don’t want anything, Maggie!” Sam said pacifically. “Honest, I -don’t. I’m not hungry.” - -“That’s lucky--seein’s there ain’t anything,” said Maggie drily. -However, she was moving toward the kitchen. “Come along with you, -though!” she flung over her shoulder. - -Sam followed her meekly. “You don’t need to bother,” he insisted. - -Maggie paid not the slightest heed to his protests. “Don’t see how -folks can expect to keep a house decent, with all the overgrown boys in -town runnin’ in for snacks between meals,” she grumbled. “Well, now -you’re here, you might as well sit down.” She pointed to a table, bare -but spotlessly clean. “S’pose I’ll have to give you some dry bread or a -cracker, maybe. And the water from the faucet’s cold enough to drink at -this time of year.” - -Sam sat down. “Oh, anything’ll do,” he said humbly. - -“Umph!” said Maggie, and opened the door of the oven. “Well, I do -declare! How’d that happen?” And from the oven she took a plate, on -which was a generous slice of steak, also a big potato. “Goodness -gracious! but I must be gettin’ flighty! I’d ’a’ said for sure I put -those things in the ice chest. Don’t it beat all how things happen! -Course, the meat’s cooked hard as a rock, but you might as well have it -as Hannibal.” She set the plate on the table with a bang. “Well, now -the stuff’s before you, what are you goin’ to do with it?” - -Sam showed her. In spite of the morning’s adventures he had an -excellent appetite. Maggie, observing, brought a glass of milk and a -large piece of pie from the pantry. Then, standing before him, she -studied the youth closely. - -“Sam, what you been doin’? What mischief you been up to?” - -“Noth--nothing,” mumbled Sam. - -Maggie shook her head. “Don’t you try to tell me, Sam Parker! I ain’t -known you years and years for nothing. Where you been?” - -Sam took thought. Maggie was his sworn ally and help in time of -trouble, but he feared she couldn’t be brought to look kindly upon the -incidents of his morning. - -“Oh! I--I went for a--for a walk--out in the woods,” he stammered. - -“Then what?” - -“Then I came home,” said Sam. - -“So I see!” quoth Maggie drily. “But go on! As you were sayin’----?” - -Sam wriggled. “This--this is bully pie, Maggie,” said he, in an effort -to change the topic. - -Her severity of expression deepened. “Mebbe it is, Sam. But you can’t -have another piece ’less you ’fess up.” - -“But I--I can’t confess.” - -“Bosh!” said Maggie tartly. - -Sam, in his turn, regarded her gravely. He had no intention of -confiding in his old friend, but plainly it was a point of interest -to learn if he struck people as one who was burdened with a terrible -secret. - -“Well, I got awfully tired, for one thing,” said he. “And it was chilly -and--er--er--and lonesome. And so I show it, do I?” - -“You show something fast enough--I ain’t sure what.” - -“Oh!” said Sam, and pushed back his chair. He got upon his feet, and -crossed to the door. His hand on the knob, he looked at Maggie, whose -brow was furrowed. - -“Say, it was mighty clever of you to save my dinner. Thank you a lot!” -he cried. Then he opened the door, and went out hurriedly. - -The talk in the kitchen had given him warning. If he would not rouse -suspicion, he must increase the gaiety of his air and manner. As he -strolled down the street, he was whistling shrilly; and he shifted to a -merrier tune when he turned in at the gate of the Joneses’ place, and -walking up to the door of a small and very trim outbuilding, knocked -thrice. - -A few months earlier Mr. Jones, disposing of a pony, whose legs had -become a good deal shorter than Step’s, had turned the pony’s quarters -over to his son, with the understanding that the little house was to -be used for a club, which the boys were forming. Step and his chums at -once took possession. They worked like beavers, cleaning, sweeping, -painting and furnishing the building, and succeeded in making for -themselves a very attractive meeting place. The club--it was called -the Adelphi--had flourished mightily, and membership in it was highly -prized. - -Sam’s triple knock brought no response, being, indeed, somewhat of an -empty form and ceremony; and after waiting for a moment--this, too, was -part of the accepted program--he opened the door and walked in. Step -and Poke were in the lounging room, recently the space given to the -pony cart. Its walls were gay with college pennants, photographs, and -pictures cut from magazines and newspapers; in one corner was a lounge, -worn but still useful; the chairs represented contributions from the -attics of several families; there was a serviceable table, on which -stood a shaded lamp; and an oil heater effectually dispelled the chill -of the afternoon air. - -“Hi there, fellows!” Sam sang out. “What are you doing to kill time?” - -It had been his desire to impress them with his ease of mind, but -neither betrayed much interest in his mood. Step, huddled in an old -steamer chair, was a picture of depression and angles, with his knees -almost on a level with his ears, and his long arms sagging till his -hands touched the floor. Poke was standing before a blackboard, which -hung on the wall. As he turned to regard the newcomer, his round face -was puckered in a frown. - -“Oh, you, Sam?” he said absently. - -“Oh, you?” croaked Step like a dismal echo. - -Sam glanced from one to the other. “What’s the row?” he inquired. “You -two look like chickens with the pip.” - -“Chickens? Ugh!” Step fairly shuddered. - -“Huh!” snorted Poke; and turning to the blackboard, dabbed viciously at -it with the eraser which he had in his left hand. - -“What are you doing?” queried Sam. He moved nearer to Poke, and glanced -curiously at the board. It had borne, in bold lettering: - - _Adelphi Club - Rules and By-laws._ - -Now, however, there was only a chalky smear to show where the lines had -been. “What are you doing?” he repeated. “Say, you’ve spoiled it!” - -“Huh! This club needs a new name,” growled Poke. “I’m trying to think -of one that’ll fit.” - -Sam wheeled and addressed the youth in the chair. “Step, what ails him? -What ails you? What’s the matter, anyway?” - -Step clasped his hands about his knees. “What ails us? Guess you -wouldn’t be asking if you knew!” - -“Course I wouldn’t!” Sam agreed rather testily to what might be called -a fairly self-evident proposition. - -“Hang the luck!” groaned the doleful Step. - -Poke whipped about. “Confound it, but there’s more than luck!” he -cried. “You’re letting us off too easy, Step. Oh, I know--I know what -you’d say! We didn’t mean to have it happen, but it did happen; so -what’s the use in talking? And it was just like a lot of other things -that keep happening to us, and will keep on happening till we have more -sense.” - -“Huh!” came from the depths of the chair. - -Sam dropped a hand on Poke’s shoulder. “Translate, won’t you? You’re -worse than old Cæsar when he tells about building his bridge.” - -“Darn that dog!” wailed Step. - -Sam tightened his grip on Poke’s plump shoulder. “So there was a dog, -was there?” said he. “That’s a start, anyway. Go on!” - -Poke wriggled free. “Yes; there was a dog, and it was that big hound -of Mr. Mercer’s. And it came along, and smelled Step’s chicken, and -grabbed for it, and gobbled it, and knocked over my basket of eggs, and -ran away. And we chased it, but couldn’t catch it. And Step lost his -chicken, and every one of my eggs was smashed. And ain’t that trouble -enough for one day?” - -“But I don’t quite understand. It--it’s sort of complicated. I don’t -see how the hound could grab the chicken and upset your basket all at -once.” - -Poke shifted weight from one foot to the other. “Well--well, you see, -we--we’d sort of stopped to look at a knife Tom Appleton had bought; -and we’d set the bundle and the basket on a stone wall; and the dog hit -both when he jumped for one. That was the way of it. And say! did you -ever hear of anything worse?” - -Sam’s smile was bitter. “Anything worse!” he repeated scornfully. What -was a poor tale of broken eggs and looted chicken to one who, by pure -mischance, had shot a man? - -Poke resented his friend’s tone. “Huh! Much you know about it! Dollar -and ten cents’ worth of eggs gone--just like that!” - -“And a five-and-a-half-pound rooster--five and a half pounds dressed!” -chimed in Step. - -“Oh, well, that was hard luck,” Sam admitted. It had occurred to him -that it was not wise to withhold sympathy if he would avoid suspicion -of cherishing some terrible secret of his own. - -Poke was one of those ordinarily cheery souls who, on occasion, take -melancholy consolation in contemplation of misfortunes. - -“I’ve been thinking things over,” he declared. “I’ve got an idea. -It isn’t the thing itself that bothers, but the consequences. Look -here, now! Mother had promised to make two angel cakes--takes eleven -eggs for each cake. And she’d promised one for the church supper, and -Jennie was to have the other for her club. And now Mother has got to -disappoint the supper committee, and they’d told her they set ’special -store by her angel cake. And she’s hot! And Jennie--say, Sam, if you -had a sister, you’d know the fix I’m in. Jennie’s just sizzling. So I’m -keeping away from the house. Gee, I’d never go home if I could help -myself!” - -Step waved a long and pitiful hand. “Company for dinner to-morrow!” he -said simply. “I’m lying low myself.” - -Sam meditated briefly. Since that terrible moment on the ridge he had -gone through half a dozen phases of emotion. He had ranged from terror -to exultation. His plans had varied from full confession to absolute -silence. Now he was disposed to follow a course of inaction, based on a -belief that the man had not been badly hurt, and that perhaps nothing -ever would be heard of the affair. Of course, if report should be made; -or if it should prove that the wounds were serious; or if the victim -should turn out to be a poor man unable to pay a doctor’s bill--well, -he wouldn’t cross bridges till he came to them. And, meanwhile, he -would try to bear himself as if nothing untoward had happened--and -thank his lucky stars that he could keep his secret, even for a time. - -“Well, that was hard luck!” he said again, and put more heart in the -speech. - -Poke returned to the blackboard. “Might as well learn a lesson when -there’s a lesson to be learned,” he rumbled. “Struck me, too, we -ought to post something here to remind us that it pays to keep out of -trouble. I’d like to give the club a name that’d mean something--see? -I can think of mottoes enough--‘Look before you leap, and then go -’round,’ and ‘You never can tell when it’s loaded,’ and a lot of -others--but I’m stumped for a name. Now, if I----” - -There he broke off. Sam, elbowing him out of the way, stood before the -board. For a second young Parker hesitated. Then he caught up a piece -of chalk, and scrawled in big letters: - - _The Safety First Club_. - -Poke clapped his hands. “Jiminy! but that’s just the idea I was groping -for. Prime, ain’t it, Step?” - -Step nodded gloomily. “Fa-fair,” he admitted. - -Sam laid down his chalk. He dusted his hands a trifle theatrically. - -“Like the name, do you?” said he. “Came to me all of a sudden.” - -“It’s a crackerjack!” declared Poke warmly. “Hits the nail right on the -head. But that makes me think, Sam--where’s that deer you were going to -hit? Haven’t got that haunch in your pocket, have you?” - -“No,” said Sam curtly. - -“Bet you didn’t see a deer!” - -“I--I didn’t.” - -Poke was beginning to recover his spirits. “Huh! Knew you wouldn’t,” -said he, and chuckled fatly. “This country’s hunted to death. Why, so -many men with guns were out to-day that one of ’em had to let drive at -another, just for something to shoot at.” - -“What!” gasped Sam. “What’s that? What do you mean?” - -“Just what I say.” - -Sam pulled out his handkerchief, and wiped drops of cold sweat from his -forehead. “But--but----” he faltered. - -“It isn’t a case of ‘but’ or ‘if.’ Step there knows all about it. He -saw them bringing him in.” - -Sam’s brain was reeling. “Bring-bringing him in?” he quavered. -“Then--then he was badly hurt, after all! And who--who was he?” - -Poke was staring in bewildered fashion at Sam. “What’s upsetting you? -Why, you’re white as a sheet!” - -“Never mind me! Who--who was it?” - -“Peter Groche.” - -“Pe-Peter Groche? And--and he--he’s wounded--maybe dying?” - -Poke laughed explosively. “Not he! Old rascal was never born to be -shot.” - -“But you said they--they were bringing him in?” - -“Yes--to the lock-up!” - -Sam dropped into the nearest chair. “I don’t--don’t under-understand,” -he said weakly. - -“It’s clear enough. Peter shot somebody else--or tried to.” - -Step joined in the conversation. “Well, he did wing him,” was his -contribution. - -“Where?” - -“Oh, grazed his head, and plunked him in one hand,” said Step. - -Sam dug his finger-nails into his palms. “I don’t mean that--at least, -that wasn’t what I tried to ask about. Where did the shooting take -place?” - -“Out beyond Marlow hill somewhere. But you steered that way, didn’t -you?” - -“In that general direction.” By a mighty effort Sam controlled his -voice. - -“Then you may have been within a half mile of Peter Groche,” Step went -on. “Maybe you heard his gun. Well, if you didn’t, he fired it, anyway. -And he ’most got his man for keeps. But the Major wasn’t hurt badly, -and he had had a glimpse of Peter a little earlier, and knew about -where he was. So he beat it through the woods after him, and overtook -him near the back road. And just then, by luck, along came Sheriff -Whaley. So the sheriff and the Major asked Mr. Peter a question or -two; and, getting no satisfaction, loaded him in the Whaley wagon and -brought him in. And there’s going to be a trial Monday morning. And I -guess it’s going to go hard with Groche. You see, he’s had a quarrel -with the Major, and there are witnesses to testify that he made threats -to get even. Then, too, there was an empty shell in one barrel of his -gun, and he wouldn’t give any explanation of how it happened to be -there. So I reckon he’ll get all that’s coming to him. The Major’s a -bad man to have on your trail--hardest man in town, by thunder!” - -“Maj-Major----?” Poor Sam’s tone was that of one whose hopes are -dwindling fast. - -“Yes siree! Hardest man in Plainville is Major Bates!” declared Step. -“Anybody that harms him’ll be put through the works, I tell you!” - -Sam got upon his feet. With trembling limbs he moved to the door. - -“Why, what’s the matter?” Step called after him. - -“What’s your burning hurry?” asked Poke. - -Sam opened the door. “That stove makes it too stuffy in here,” he told -them. “I--I’ve just got to have fresh air.” And out he went, closing -the door behind him with a force suggesting that he did not care for -company in his rambles. - - - - -CHAPTER V SAM FACES THE MUSIC - - -Almost every town has the misfortune to include among its residents -a few persons perhaps best described as “undesirable citizens.” In -the case of Plainville by far the most undesirable of these was Peter -Groche, idler, sot, brawler, and petty thief. On several occasions -vigorous efforts had been made to rid the community of his presence; -but Peter, unchastened by thrashings or jail sentences for robbing hen -roosts or clothes-lines, persisted in turning up like the worst of bad -pennies. There was, therefore, general satisfaction in the town when -news spread that, at last, he had been caught in an offense so serious -that Plainville reasonably could hope to be relieved of him for a term -of several years; especially as the irascible, determined and energetic -Major Bates was directly interested in his prosecution. - -Mr. Parker, returning from his trip to Epworth, heard the news -down-town, and brought it home with him. Across the supper table he -discussed the matter with his wife, and found her quite of his opinion -that a shining example should be made of Peter Groche. The topic, -in fact, fairly shared their attention with the annoying absence of -the son of the house. Sam had not been home for dinner, Mrs. Parker -announced; and now he appeared to have forgotten the supper hour. - -“I don’t know what has come over the boy,” she said. “He went out right -after breakfast, and nobody but Maggie has seen him since. She says -he came in about two o’clock and had lunch; and then went out again. -I think you’d better talk to him seriously. He doesn’t understand how -important it is to a growing boy to have his meals regularly.” - -“Very well; I’ll take him in hand,” said the father. - -Mrs. Parker gave a little sigh. “Ah! I feel, sometimes, as if Sam were -growing away from me. He’s getting to be such a big fellow, you know. -Now and then I can’t but have my doubts that I’m capable of managing -him.” - -“Still, you’ve done very well so far,” her husband assured her. “Sam’s -a pretty good boy, as boys go. I don’t happen to think of any other -youngster for whom I’d care to exchange him. But if he’s getting beyond -you--well, I’ll try my luck. Only”--he hesitated--“only, when I do, -perhaps you’d better make it a strictly masculine session. I may have -to lay down some rather rigid rules, and--well, it will be just as well -not to have an over-merciful court of appeal too conveniently at hand. -Send him to me when he comes in, and Master Sam and I will reach an -understanding.” - -So they arranged it; and so it came to pass that when Sam walked into -the library--the clocks were striking eight as he entered--his mother, -after gently chiding him for his tardiness, slipped out. The shaded -light, by which his father was reading, left the ends of the room in -shadow, and Sam lingered for a moment by the door. At last he came -forward, halting directly in front of his father. - -Mr. Parker looked up. “Well, young man----” he began, but suddenly his -tone changed sharply. “What in the world have you been doing, Sam? You -look as if you’d been dragged through a knot-hole!” - -Sam’s wan smile was more eloquent than his speech. “I shouldn’t wonder -if I did, sir. I’ve been walking around and--and thinking.” - -“Where have you been walking?” - -“Around town, sir--up and down the streets--anywhere.” - -“Thinking all the while?” - -“Yes, sir; thinking hard.” - -“Been alone?” - -“All alone.” - -“Umph!” said Mr. Parker. - -Sam licked dry lips. “I’ve been thinking, and I’ve thought it -out,--what I ought to do, sir. And--and I’m here to make a clean breast -of things.” - -The father studied the boy’s face for a moment. “Sam,” he said slowly, -“Sam, I can see that you’re greatly exercised about something or other. -What it is I don’t know. I had intended to have you on the carpet for -being late for dinner and supper, but I’m afraid this is something -more serious. But whatever it is, I hope you’ll do just what you say -you wish to do--make a clean breast of it.” - -“And face the music!” There was a new note in the boy’s voice, a firmer -note. - -“That’s part of the game of life, Sam--if you play the game fairly and -squarely.” - -Sam drew a long breath, and made his plunge. “Father, you’ve heard -about the arrest of Peter Groche? They say he shot at Major Bates. -Well, he didn’t--but I did!” - -Mr. Parker bent forward; he was looking into the boy’s eyes, and the -boy did not quail under his scrutiny. - -“I don’t ask you if you’re in earnest, Sam. I know that you are. Go on!” - -“I took your gun this morning, and went out to the Marlow woods. I’d -been told there were deer there. I was crouching under some bushes, and -looking across a hollow, when I saw something dark on the other side. -It moved, and I fired. Then a man’s head showed. I didn’t recognize -him. I was so scared that I burrowed deeper in the bushes--hid for a -while, sir. Then I realized I ought to do something. So I crossed the -hollow. I found blood spots, but the man had gone away. It seemed -as if he couldn’t have been badly hurt. Then I came home. I hoped I -wouldn’t have to tell anybody, but--but now they’ve locked up Peter -Groche for what I did.” - -“When did you learn of the arrest?” - -“This afternoon.” - -“And since then?” - -“I’ve been thinking it over--fighting it out with myself, sir.” - -Mr. Parker rose and crossed the room. He picked up the gun, threw open -the breach, peered into the barrels. - -“You fired only once?” - -“Only once, sir. Here’s the empty cartridge.” Sam took the shell from -his pocket. - -Mr. Parker put the gun in its place, and went back to his chair. There -was a little pause; then said he: - -“You had your mother’s permission, did you, to take that gun?” - -“No, sir,” said Sam. - -“Or to go hunting?” - -“No, sir.” - -“Did you seek it?” - -Sam shook his head. “She was out, and I--well, I didn’t wait for her to -come home.” - -“I see. By the way, were you under an impression that I had ever -authorized such an expedition?” - -“No, sir,” said Sam frankly. “But, then, you’d never forbidden it,” he -added. - -“There are several things it has never occurred to me to forbid you to -do,” said his father drily. - -Sam nodded. “That’s so, sir. I don’t think much of the excuse.” - -“There we are of a mind. So you must have realized that you were doing -wrong.” - -“I didn’t bother--think, I mean--about that part of it; that is, I -didn’t seem to comprehend how wrong the thing might be. Of course, I -understood that it wasn’t exactly--exactly proper.” Sam had difficulty -in picking the word, and did not appear to be over-pleased with his -choice. - -“Go on,” said his father. “Tell me just what you did when you reached -the Marlow woods.” - -Sam obeyed. Very carefully he went over the incidents of the morning. -He described his cautious advance through the thick growth, his -ascent of the first ridge, his discovery of the dark object across -the ravine. In detail he explained how he had conquered his attack of -“buck fever”; how he had taken aim and fired; how he had been overcome -by consternation when the head of a man appeared. He did not deny that -he had been slow in crossing the gully. In fact, he made no attempt to -present his case in a more favorable light than it deserved. - -Mr. Parker did not interrupt the story. - -“Sam,” he said, at its close, “this is an extraordinary yarn of yours. -It is borne out in part by the empty cartridge shell. I can see, -too, that one barrel of the gun has been discharged. Also I am fully -convinced that you have tried to present the exact truth about the -shooting. I shall assume that the facts are as you have stated them. I -don’t need to add that they make the case very serious.” - -“I--I’m afraid it is, sir.” - -“Yet you haven’t hesitated to make confession?” - -Sam moved uneasily. “I--I--oh, but I did hesitate, sir. It was a hard -pull to bring myself up to the point. I guess I walked miles and miles -before I was ready to come back and tell you everything.” - -“I wonder,” said Mr. Parker meditatively, “I wonder if it occurred to -you that you might run away from all the trouble.” - -The boy reddened. “It did occur to me, sir. And--you may think it -a funny way to put it, but it’s true--my legs just seemed to be -determined to carry me down to the railroad station. And they did! I -was there a long time, looking at time-tables.” - -“But finally they lost interest?” - -“Yes, sir. I’d reasoned it out that there could be no use in bolting; -it wouldn’t help anybody.” - -“It very seldom does help anybody, Sam.” - -“I guess that’s so, sir.” - -There was a long pause, which Mr. Parker ended. - -“Sam, we’ve got to consider the next step--no doubt you have considered -it; for it necessarily follows your statement. You’ve declared your -faith, so to speak; now you’ve got to supplement faith with works.” - -The boy nodded. “I know, sir. They’ve locked up Peter Groche. We--I, -that is--have got to get him out; for he’s innocent.” - -“Precisely.” - -Sam could not repress a shudder. “He’s in the police station for -something I did. When they release him, I suppose I’ll have to take -his place. I don’t know much about law, but that would seem to -be--er--er--to be----” - -“Essential justice?” queried his father. - -“That--that’s my idea, sir.” - -“I see. But how do you plan to bring it about?” - -Sam squared his shoulders. “By going down to the station and telling -the officers what I’ve told you--everything. Then they’ll have to let -Peter Groche go. And they--they can keep me.” - -“That would be a simple method; but there may be a better one--not so -direct, but probably more effective.” - -Sam stared at his father. “More effective?” he repeated. - -“Yes. The officers might be slow to act. You have to remember that they -think the case against Groche is pretty strong.” - -“But they’d have to believe me,” Sam urged. - -“Not so fast, son! Don’t forget that there is a good deal of -circumstantial evidence against Groche. Your story would certainly -create a doubt--and a strong doubt--in his favor; but with his -reputation for evil doing, they would be reluctant to let him go and -risk making a mistake. No; there is a surer way to achieve the result.” - -“And that is----?” - -“To go straight to Major Bates and give him your version.” - -“Oh!” gasped Sam, and blanched at thought of confronting the -redoubtable Major, by long odds the most terrifying, overbearing and -truculent person in all Plainville. “Oh, I--I’d rather not, Father! -They can put me in a cell if they want to, but----” - -Mr. Parker rose to his feet. “We’ll go to the Major--at once!” he said, -with decision. - - - - -CHAPTER VI DEALING WITH THE OGRE - - -Major Bates lived in a big, brick house, made gloomy and forbidding by -tall evergreen trees growing close to its walls. It had been, in its -day, one of the noted mansions of the town, and still maintained much -of its former state. Its hedges were trimmed to a nicety; its graveled -walks were straight of edge and free of encroaching grass; its lawn -was the smoothest to be found for miles around; the brass rails beside -the steps shone with frequent polishing. Yet, with all this care, -there was something cheerless about the place, something suggesting an -institution rather than a home. To his few cronies the Major admitted -that he liked to keep his premises “well policed,” as he termed it, in -memory of his army days; but the townspeople generally were of opinion -that the verdict of a clever woman hit the case perfectly. - -“Wonderfully kept up; marvelously well ordered; excellent for -everything--except comfortable living.” - -Such was her summary. Perhaps nobody but the Major would have taken -serious objection to it. He was quite sure that things were as he -wished to have them; and it did not occur to him that anybody else was -called upon to consider the matter. - -This evening he was sitting alone in the big room he called his den, a -room whose walls were lined with bookcases, gun racks and cabinets, and -decorated with antlered heads of moose and deer. The pictures were few -but good. Each hung as if its top had been adjusted with the aid of a -spirit-level. The books on the shelves were like soldiers on parade. - -The master of the house, seated before his open fire, curiously matched -the room. He was very neat and precise in dress; he held himself -stiffly, and after a fashion which caused careless observers to credit -him with greater height than he possessed. As a matter of fact, he -was rather short in stature and thin to gauntness; though it seldom -occurred to anybody to speak of him as a little man. Perhaps this was -due to his domineering manner and striking face. The Major was a person -to attract attention in any company. He had a shock of iron-gray hair, -bushy eyebrows, a fiercely beaked nose, and a bristling moustache and -goatee. His eyes were keen and piercing, and not often inclined to -friendliness. - -It need hardly be said that he was not on terms of intimacy with the -youth of Plainville. Not that they ventured to annoy him--far from it! -Two-thirds of the boys in town would cross the street to avoid meeting -him, no matter how clear might be their consciences of recent offense -against him. But the Major, striding along, swinging his cane and -grumbling to himself as he advanced, was just the sort of figure to -which peaceful folk involuntarily yield the crown of the way. And this -evening, though he was not marching belligerently through the town, but -was sitting before his cheery fire, he looked even more warlike--and -war-worn--than in his public appearances. There was a patch of -court-plaster on his cheek, and his left hand was wrapped in a bandage. - -There was a deferential knock, and the door of the room opened. In -stepped a man servant, severe of countenance. He advanced to the Major, -and halting, stood at attention. - -“Mr. Parker--to see you, sir,” he reported. “Yes, sir; Mr. Parker and -Master Parker.” - -The Major scowled. “What! Parker and that boy of his? What’s he here -for? But show Parker in, of course. If the boy doesn’t want to come, -don’t urge him. Perhaps he’ll wait in the parlor.” - -But Master Parker, albeit he gladly would have lingered behind, was not -to be permitted to escape his ordeal. With dragging foot he entered the -den at his father’s heels, and stood unhappily clutching his cap, while -his elders shook hands somewhat formally. - -“Ah, Mr. Parker, glad to see you!” said the Major. “Be seated, I beg -you. And come up to the fire. Chilly evening, sir; chilly, though -seasonable.” - -“Major Bates, permit me to present my son, Samuel,” said Mr. Parker. - -Sam stepped forward with a resigned hopelessness like that of a -condemned criminal. He felt himself quailing before the Major’s eye; -but felt a surprising--and vaguely encouraging--heartiness in the grip -the old soldier gave his timidly extended hand. - -“Samuel, I trust you are well,” quoth the Major, courteously enough. -Then, not being impressed with the importance of minors in the scheme -of the universe, he turned to the boy’s father, after suggesting to his -youthful caller that he, too, take a chair near the fire. - -Mr. Parker cleared his throat. “Ahem, ahem! Major, I have been given to -understand that you have been the victim of an unfortunate accident.” - -“Accident!” The Major sat straighter in the chair in which he had just -seated himself. “Sir, that’s misuse of English. What I was victim of -was a most cowardly and scoundrelly attack. Thank heaven, though, the -perpetrator of the outrage was at once apprehended and taken into -custody.” - -“You’re sure of the identity of the----” - -The Major’s eyes flashed; he was guilty of the discourtesy of -interrupting a guest. - -“Am I sure? Sir, I am as absolutely certain of the miscreant as I am of -this”--he touched the court-plaster on his cheek--“and of this”--he -waved the bandaged hand. “I’ve two good reasons to remember him, sir.” - -“But, Major----” - -“Pardon me a moment! You may not know, but it is the fact that the -fellow has threatened, repeatedly, to do me harm. It’s an old grudge. -Years ago I was fortunate enough to be active in sending him to jail, -and he’s never forgotten my modest service to the general welfare. -Only last week--on the public street, sir--he reviled me, and declared -that he would have revenge. It was a fortunate warning, sir; for this -morning, when he and I met in the woods--oh, yes; we passed within ten -yards of each other--I took care to keep a weather eye open for just -some such performance as he undertook. I’d kept his general bearings, -and when he blazed away at me--why, sir, I rushed for him. And by Jove! -I got him--as good as caught in the act, sir!” - -“But not quite caught in the act, sir. There must have been an -interval----” - -The Major raised a hand. “Pardon me again! Sir, what you speak of -is a trifle, a bagatelle. And there was plenty of circumstantial -evidence--empty shell in the right-hand barrel of his gun--barrel -fouled by the discharge. And he attempted no denial. Why, sir, he -merely stood there and cursed me to my face, the scoundrel!” - -“And yet,” said Mr. Parker evenly, “I fear you were--and are--in error.” - -“Eh?” The Major bristled. “Eh? You fear I’m in error? Most -extraordinary statement, sir! Do you mean to insinuate that nobody shot -me?” - -“I merely suggest that you may not have been shot by Peter Groche.” - -“But who else under the canopy could it have been?” - -“I am afraid, as I told you--afraid that it was my son.” - -“What!” Up sprang the Major. “Man, what do you mean? This boy?” -He whipped about, and peered at Sam. “Why, he’s a mere child! -Preposterous, sir; utterly preposterous!” - -“I wish that it were!” said Mr. Parker, with feeling. “But the fact -remains that he insists he was gunning this morning in Marlow woods; -and that he declares that he mistook a man for a deer, and fired at -him.” - -“Tush, tush! That’s all a piece of boyish imagination. He’s been -reading dime novels! Haven’t you, young man?” And the Major shook a -bony forefinger in Sam’s face. - -“No, sir; I haven’t.” Sam spoke firmly, and his eyes did not fall -before the Major’s. - -“Do you expect me to believe you were the fellow who winged me?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -The Major went back to his chair. He dropped into it almost limply. -“Out with your story, boy!” said he. “I’ll listen--I’ve got to, I -suppose.” - -The dreaded moment had arrived. Sam nerved himself to the task before -him. The keen, old eyes under the bushy brows never left his face. He -felt that they were penetrating every secret of his soul. But, after -all, he had nothing but the truth to tell; and there was nothing he -wished to conceal. Slowly at first, and then more rapidly, if not more -easily, he reviewed the events of the morning. He dealt with his hunt -through the woods; described the twin ridges and the valley between. -Then the Major broke in upon him. - -“By Jove, boy, but you have the lay of the land pat!” he exclaimed. “Go -over that again, please--about the bushes where you hid, and the others -where you saw something move.” - -Sam repeated this part of his story. The Major stalked to a closet, and -stalked back, carrying a woolen cap, dark red in color. - -“Was that what you saw?” he demanded grimly. - -“It might have been--I’m not certain.” - -The Major thrust a finger into a hole in the cap. - -“That’s where one shot went through. But, by the great horn spoon, -Parker! what’s a man to do to secure reasonable safety in the woods -these times? I put on a red cap to warn gunners not to pot me for a -deer. Have I got to wear sleigh-bells, or carry an automobile horn, to -let ’em know it’s a human being that’s coming? I must say things are at -a pretty pass, when anybody who wants venison has to take his life in -his hand to get it!” - -“Agreed!” said Mr. Parker. “That’s one of the reasons why I’ve -practically dropped hunting. But that cap, now--strikes me the red -might not show very clearly among the dead leaves.” - -“What I saw seemed to be dark rather than red,” Sam explained. - -The Major pulled at his tuft of beard. “All most extraordinary and -yet--queer how the thing might have happened, as the boy says. I’d -half made up my mind that scoundrel was gunning for me; so, naturally -enough, when that charge of buckshot came my way, I looked where I -thought it probably came from. And the puff of smokeless powder isn’t -much--it’d have been gone in a few seconds. And sound fools you on -direction. Expecting attack from a certain quarter, I’d be pretty sure -to place the sound there, whether or no. And the boy declares he was -right across the gulch? Umph!” - -Sam resumed his account. He made confession to his fright; to the -moments which passed before he dared to look at the farther ridge, even -though he heard the loud crackling of branches. - -The Major nodded. “That fits, too. Soon as I could wrap a handkerchief -about the bleeding paw I was off after Groche. But finally you crossed -over to see what you’d bagged, eh? Umph! Why didn’t you run away?” - -“I--I didn’t think I should.” - -“Wanted to, didn’t you?” - -“Indeed I did, sir!” - -“Umph!” said the Major again. “Well, go on. What did you find?” - -Sam described the trampled brush and the spots of blood on the leaves. -Also he related his vain effort to follow the trail. - -The Major was scowling fiercely. “That’s all, eh? Enough, too, I must -say! No, it isn’t, either. Look here, young man! I suppose I must -accept this story. You’ve just missed committing murder--yes, murder! -Abominable recklessness, abominable! And criminal, highly criminal! -You’ve rendered yourself liable to a heavy penalty. You’ll have to -suffer----” - -Mr. Parker spoke sharply and emphatically: “That is not at present -under discussion. Our immediate interest is justice to a wrongly -arrested man.” - -Up went the Major’s warlike eyebrows. “Eh? What’s that? Justice, -you say?” Then he whipped about to Sam. “Boy, do you understand the -situation in which you’ve placed yourself? Want justice done, do you? -That’ll mean trouble for you. Don’t quibble! Why didn’t you let well -enough alone?” - -“Why--why, sir----” - -“Umph! Your father’s responsible, of course, for your telling the -story.” - -Again Mr. Parker intervened. “Not so fast, Major. Of his own volition -Sam told me what had happened. The affair was a complete surprise to -me. It was my suggestion that he repeat his statement to you rather -than to the police--and there my responsibility begins. But I’ll add -that, as it has begun, I shall regard it as continuing until this -matter is settled.” - -“Eh?” The Major looked more hostile than ever. “Am I to accept that as -a declaration that you are backing the boy?” - -“You may accept it as meaning that while I regret deeply his rashness -and its results, now that he has made confession, I’m backing him, as -you term it--and I shall continue to back him.” - -There could be no mistaking Mr. Parker’s earnestness and determination. -A thrill shot through Sam. He flashed a grateful glance at his father; -then turned to face the Major. - -The countenance of the grizzled warrior offered a rare study in -conflicting emotions. It betrayed anger, but it also suggested chagrin. -Moreover, there was a hint of admiration. There was an instant in which -Sam believed that the Major was about to attempt personal chastisement -on the spot; there was another in which he wondered if the old man were -not struggling with a sense of helplessness. Then, of a sudden, the -Major laughed explosively. - -“Ha, ha! By the great horn spoon, Parker! I’d do the same, if I stood -in your shoes! Blood’s thicker than water, every time. Ought to -be, by Jove! when it’s good blood. And it’s good blood that’s made -your boy own his mistake and step forward, like a man, to bear the -consequences. I hate a sneak, but I take off my hat to a real man, no -matter whether he’s young or old. There, there! Hear me out! This thing -came near enough to being my funeral to justify me in attending to the -arrangements. I’ll telephone to the police, and withdraw my charge -against Groche; and I’ll keep my own counsel about why I withdraw it. -That’s all right--accidents will happen, and when you’re satisfied a -thing is an accident, there’s nothing to do but grin and bear it. Our -young friend here can learn a lesson, and be more careful in future. No -need for him to gossip about it, eh?” - -Sam was speechless at this amazing turn for the better in his affairs; -but his father came to the rescue. - -“Major, you’re most kindly and generous. If there’s anything I can do, -command me! If Groche threatens proceedings for illegal arrest you must -permit me to guarantee you against loss in any way.” - -The Major shook his head. “Very good of you, sir, but -unnecessary--quite. Groche’s language was so abusive that a charge of -noise and brawl would lie against him; and, no doubt, the officers will -hold him overnight for safe-keeping, and turn him loose in the morning. -And he’ll be content to drop the case, so far as the law goes; for he -has no love for courts of any sort. But, young man”--he turned to Sam, -and there was a wry grin curling his fierce moustache--“young man, -you’ve robbed me of the consolation of being a public benefactor. If -I could put that scoundrel behind the bars, at cost of a flesh wound -or two, I’d count the pain as nothing compared with the service to the -community.” - -Sam found tongue. “I wish I could tell you, sir, how sorry I am -for--for shooting you.” - -Once more the Major laughed, and his hand fell, in friendly fashion, on -Sam’s shoulder. - -“Boy, I’ve been wounded four times,” he said, “but this is the first -time the fellow who hit me has had the grace to apologize.” - - - - -CHAPTER VII THE RECKONING - - -Sam awoke to find the sunshine pouring through the window of his room. -Overnight there had been a change for the better in the weather, and -Sunday had dawned clear and bright. - -The boy yawned, stretched himself luxuriously, rubbed the lingering -sleepiness out of his eyes. There was a blissful moment, in which -he felt himself in harmony with the unclouded morning, refreshed, -untroubled. Then, of a sudden, came recollection of the events of the -day before, and understanding that there was still a reckoning to be -paid. He might have nothing to fear from courts and officers of the -law; Major Bates, ordinarily warlike, had been brought to prefer peace -to hostilities; but he had yet to reach complete understanding with his -father. - -Mr. Parker and Sam had exchanged hardly a word while they walked home -from the Major’s house; but at their own door the father had paused -briefly. - -“You’d better turn in, Sam,” he had said. “We’ll have to go over this -matter pretty carefully, but I’m not prepared to do so to-night. And I -fancy your own ideas will be none the worse for a little revision, and -a clearer head in the morning.” - -But Sam, going to his room, had found himself very wakeful. Half an -hour later his mother had looked in, and discovered him, fully dressed -and huddled in a big chair; and glad, indeed, to see her, as it -proved. She had had no reproaches to shower upon him--Sam had wondered -if his father’s explanation of his misdeeds had not been extremely -merciful; and she had slipped an arm about him, and “mothered” him most -comfortingly. And, presently, had appeared her handmaiden and his own -loyal ally, Maggie, bearing a tray on which were a bowl of milk and a -plate of crackers. Sam, who might have vowed that he wasn’t hungry, -in a second had become acutely aware of a lack of something under his -belt, and had fallen to with a right good will, his mother watching him -approvingly and Maggie voicing her satisfaction in her own fashion. - -“Well, say, ma’am, will you look at that, now? It’s not a morsel of -supper the poor boy’ll have been puttin’ tooth to! And him sayin’ -nothing about it--no; nor his father, either! They’re like as two peas -in some ways, ma’am. Oh, them men, them men!” - - * * * * * - -These were the brighter spots in Sam’s memories. They were pleasant -to dwell upon; but they could not relieve the general gravity of the -case. A very sober youth it was who dressed mechanically and in due -course appeared at breakfast. A deal to his surprise his father and -mother greeted him quite as usual. There was nothing to suggest that -they regarded him either as a repentant offender or as a hero. At -Sunday-school he had another experience of the same sort; for his -friends hailed him with matter-of-fact heartiness. Both Step and Poke -appeared to have lived down their domestic unpopularity, resulting from -the incident of the hungry hound, and to be disposed to regard the -world cheerfully, with no suspicion that he was not entirely of their -way of thinking. - -There was interest displayed in the news that Peter Groche, after a -night in the lock-up, had been released from custody; but it occurred -to none of Sam’s chums to connect the circumstance with his adventures -as a deer hunter. Groche, presented with his freedom, had walked -off, mumbling and grumbling. The popular theory was that, sooner or -later, he would try to “get even” with the Major, his old grudge being -heightened by the recent episode. - -“Funny how the Major let up on him!” Poke ruminated. “Well, you never -can tell what’ll happen. But I guess there must have been some weak -spot, after all, in the case. If there wasn’t, the Major would have -hung on like a bulldog.” - -“Gee, but I wouldn’t have him after me--not for a farm!” quoth Step. - -Sam held his peace. He might have shed fresh light upon the -peculiarities of the old soldier, but the present time was not -opportune. He had little share in the talk as the boys walked home -together; and the mood of silence held him through dinner. Then his -father proposed a stroll, and the boy accepted the invitation. - -On the top of a hill overlooking the town--not only a sightly place but -also one ensuring freedom from interruption--father and son had their -discussion calmly and deliberately. - -“Sam,” Mr. Parker began, “I’m not going to preach a sermon, but I’m -going to take a text. You supplied it when you told me last night that -you didn’t regard lack of direct prohibition as making a very good -excuse for what you did. The trouble is, you reached that opinion after -the fact. In the beginning, I dare say, it seemed quite reasonable to -do the thing which wasn’t forbidden.” - -“Well, sir, I--I did it,” said Sam sheepishly. - -“Exactly! And, in doing it, you yielded to impulse.” - -“I sup-suppose so.” - -“You had no wish, no intention, to harm anybody,” Mr. Parker went on. -“You desired to go hunting--I’ve felt the desire; I know what it is. -Then there was my gun, fairly thrusting itself upon you--seemed that -way, didn’t it?” - -“You’re telling it, sir, as if you’d stood in my shoes.” - -“Many a time! I’ve been a boy myself. Also I haven’t forgotten, Sam, -the scrapes into which I fell. Some of them taught me a lesson--a -lesson you’ll have to learn some day. But to get back to the gun. There -it was, ready to your hand. You took it. You put a supply of cartridges -in your pocket. Your mother was not at home. You were too impatient -to await her return. So off you hurried, taking chances, but meaning -no harm. You were very sure of yourself; you knew something about -firearms; you were confident that you wouldn’t hurt yourself or anybody -else. You thought you were extremely careful in the woods. Yet there -you took another chance, still meaning no harm, but barely escaping -homicide.” - -“I know that, sir.” - -“You can count yourself most fortunate that the results were not more -serious. But I won’t dwell upon what might have happened. What did -happen was quite enough to give you food for thought, and to point the -moral of your experience. And that is that before you go ahead you -should do your best to be sure you’re right.” - -“After this I’ll be sure!” - -Mr. Parker smiled a little oddly. “I ask only, Sam, that you do your -best to be sure. Often you have to take risks--the practical point is -to avoid the unnecessary risks. Hear me through! At sixteen you’re not -going to develop the wisdom and foresight of a grown man. I’m not going -to demand the impossible. I am going, though, to urge you to profit by -the mistakes you’ve made--and that, Sam, is the one best use to make of -mistakes.” - -“You mean, not to repeat ’em?” - -“That is precisely my meaning.” - -“Trust me!” cried Sam, with conviction. - -“I am going to trust you,” said his father. “In the first place, I am -going to assume that we have no need to talk about punishment; perhaps -you’ve had a reasonable amount of it as it is, for I suspect you have -passed some very trying hours. At the same time, though, I’m not -prepared to treat this affair as a wholly closed chapter. I think it -will be better for all concerned if you regard yourself, for the next -few months, as on probation.” - -“I don’t quite understand.” - -“Well, in other words, you may consider yourself as under test. And the -test will be the extent to which you have profited by what has taken -place.” - -“Oh!” said Sam. “Then you’re waiting to see if I’ve really learned the -lesson?” - -“You have the idea.” - -Sam knit his brows. “It’s awfully kind of you, Father--it’s greater -mercy than I’d hoped for. I--I’ll try my prettiest to deserve it. -And--and will everything go on just as--just as before?” - -“As nearly as may be. Only that brings me to my second point. It has to -do with St. Mark’s.” - -“Oh!” said Sam again, a bit apprehensively, it must be admitted. - -“I think,” said his father slowly, “that for the present we’ll hold in -abeyance any plans for sending you away to school. Don’t regard this as -a punishment; it is merely part of the probation. St. Mark’s, as you -know, allows its students much liberty. It treats them almost as if -they were men. And, frankly, Sam, it remains for you to prove that you -deserve such confidence. As the boys say, it’s up to you.” - -The blow to the boy’s hopes was harder than his father realized. For -months Sam had been counting upon an early transfer to the famous -preparatory school. At his books, and in sports, he had striven with an -eye to the St. Mark’s standards; he had read everything concerning the -academy upon which he could lay hands; he had thought of St. Mark’s by -day and dreamed of it at night. And now, of a sudden, he learned that -his goal was not near, but at a distance which seemed to be all the -more unhappy because of its vagueness. Yet, very pluckily, he rallied -from the shock. - -“Yes, sir; it’s up to me--I understand,” said he. “I’ve got to show -that I’m not an utter idiot, that I have some common sense. And I will -show it, I will! If I don’t, I won’t be worth sending to St. Mark’s -or--or anywhere else!” - - - - -CHAPTER VIII BEGINNING THE TEST - - -The junior class of the Plainville High School probably was neither -much better nor much worse than the classes which had preceded it, -and the other classes which were following it, along the paths of -knowledge. It had its bright boys and girls and its dullards; its -examples of industry and of idleness; its workers and its shirkers; its -happy-go-lucky members, who made the most of the day without thought -of the morrow, and its budding politicians, who laid wires and pulled -them with an eye to future advantage. Perhaps the most distinguishing -peculiarity of the class, however, was the influence exerted by a group -of boys, with some of whom we have become acquainted. - -Just why the Safety First Club (lately the Adelphi) should have been -so potent a factor was not easily explained. The faculty, which -had suspicion rather than understanding of the fact, did not try -to explain it, while certain ambitious youths, not of the charmed -circle, insisted that it could not be made clear. The club did not -include the coming valedictorian or salutatorian; it had none of the -most distinguished athletes; yet the truth remained that its backing -was a prime necessity to secure success in any class undertaking. If -there were a fund to be raised for the ball team, or if a picnic were -planned or a Christmas jollification, wise promoters at once sought the -endorsement of the club. As it usually was given in generous measure, -there was little general criticism of the coterie, though, as was -inevitable, there were envious ones who lost no opportunity privately -to say unpleasant things about the members, singly and collectively. - -In this, of course, jealousy figured. Several of the boys deeply -resented the failure of the club to invite them to become members; and -the feeling was bitterest in the case of one Thomas Orkney. - -Now and then one comes upon a striking example of the square peg -in the round hole. Orkney did not fit. He was comparatively a new -boy in Plainville, having lived there but two or three years, and -having come with some very firmly established notions of his own -importance. At bottom he had his virtues--plenty of them, no doubt; -but they were overlaid and concealed by a highly unfortunate manner. -His early study had been under tutors, who had helped him to better -knowledge of his text-books than to preparation for what may be called -the rough-and-tumble experiences of recitations in a large class. If -he blundered, and the division laughed, that was a black day in his -calendar; and he scowled and sulked, and cherished a grudge against -those who had led in the merriment. Worst of all, he often found -means to settle these scores, and so had contrived to make himself -exceedingly unpopular among his classmates; though, as it happened, -he also drew to himself a few supporters and adherents from among the -discontented element, which is so frequently to be observed in any -organization. - -While it could not be said that the juniors were sharply divided into -factions, it was certainly true that the relations of the club and of -the Orkney “crowd” were strained. Recently there had been two or three -incidents, trifling in themselves, but together doing a good deal to -increase the rivalry. - -Oddly enough, Step Jones, one of the most peaceful of mortals, had -succeeded in enraging Orkney. Step, as a rule, was no shining star of -scholarship; but by some mental twist he was a very planet in Greek. In -Latin he was merely fair, and in French not quite so good, while the -less said of his algebra and geometry the better; but, in the speech -of his friends, he took to Greek as a duck takes to water. Poke Green -accused him of “reading ahead” in Xenophon for the fun of the thing; -and declined to withdraw the charge in spite of his almost tearful -denials, holding, indeed, that it was confirmed by Step’s success in -translating a “sight” passage, which Tom Orkney had stumbled over. Poke -forgot all about the episode in an hour, but Tom added another to his -growing list of grievances against the club. His average for the term -was far above Step’s, but he begrudged the lanky youth even a trifling -triumph. And then came the matter of Willy Reynolds. - -It may throw light upon the personality of Master Reynolds to explain -that he was equally well known as Willy and the “Shark,” neither -being used offensively, though one had a suggestion of mildness and -the other of ferocity. He was, in fact, a little fellow, slender, -stoop-shouldered, and physically the weakest boy in the class. Yet -no other junior was less teased or picked upon. Practical jokers -passed by Willy Reynolds. There was a gravity about him, not owlish, -but distinctly discouraging to frivolity; and an almost hypnotic -influence in his meditative and unwavering gaze. He had the prominent -eyes of the near-sighted; and he had, too, the unconscious trick of -staring steadfastly at man or thing of whose very existence he was -barely conscious; and as he stared through big, round lenses, set in -a heavy black frame, the effect was impressive, if not terrifying. -Consequently, even the most mischievous of his mates preferred to let -him alone, especially as they had honest respect for his signal ability -in his specialty. - -Young Reynolds was a mathematician born. Languages he endured as -unavoidable subjects of study; but he reveled in equations and -demonstrations, made child’s play of the required algebra and -geometry--thereby earning his nickname of the “Shark”--and carried on -advanced work under the eye of the principal, himself an adept of the -mathematical brotherhood. Willy, of course, was destined for scientific -courses at college; but meanwhile, tarrying with the junior class, he -filled his contemporaries with wonder and admiration. For example, he -solved at sight a problem to which Tom Orkney had devoted vain and -wearisome hours. It was all in the day’s work for the Shark, but Orkney -noted another score to be repaid with compound interest. - -Sam Parker had been a witness of Tom’s discomfiture on both occasions; -but, as may be imagined, was not concerning himself deeply with the -sullen youth’s moods. As he himself would have put it, he had troubles -enough of his own, and was fully occupied with his own affairs when he -went to school on Monday morning. On the way he fell in with Step and -Poke. The latter was full of the mystery attending the release of Peter -Groche. - -“It’s mighty queer--our folks were talking it over at breakfast,” said -he. “Course, there was a mistake somewhere, or Major Bates never would -have let him go. But Peter didn’t let out a word--just growled, and -grumbled, and took himself off, shaking his head. He wouldn’t deny that -he shot the Major. The police asked him about it, but he gave them no -satisfaction. He’s a bad one, I tell you! Regular Indian, if he gets -down on anybody!” - -“All the more wonder that the Major dropped the case,” declared Step. -“He knows Groche from A to Z.” - -Poke wagged his head. “There you are! Makes the business all the -queerer. Each of them is a sticker, in his own way. And the Major had -Groche just where he wanted him. And then, all of a sudden, he let up! -What do you make of that, now?” - -“Beats me,” Step confessed. - -“What’s your notion, Sam?” - -Sam did not meet Poke’s inquiring glance. “I think,” he said slowly, -“that something must have happened to show the Major that Groche hadn’t -shot him.” - -“Huh! How do you make that out?” queried Step. - -“That’d mean somebody else did the shooting,” observed Poke, the -philosopher. “The Major was hit, fast enough--peppered in the head and -in one hand. And he didn’t do it himself.” - -“Of course not,” said Sam. - -“Therefore, some one else did. The Major was sure Groche was the some -one. Then he wasn’t sure. In between he’d found out something. Q. E. -D.--as the Shark would remark.” - -“Q. E. D.,” repeated Sam, for want of anything better. - -Step grunted. “Huh! Bet you he’d found out who was who and what was -what! But that just thickens the fog.” - -“How so?” - -“Why didn’t he have the other fellow locked up in Groche’s place?” - -“Jiminy! that’s a good point!” cried Poke. - -Sam said nothing, and for a moment the three trudged on in silence. - -“Oh, well,” said Poke at last, “the Major knows now, but we’ll know -sooner or later.” - -“How’s that?” Sam asked quickly. - -Poke shrugged his shoulders. “Oh, things are bound to come out. They -always do. It’s just like a dog burying a bone--if he doesn’t dig it -up, some other dog will.” - -“Don’t you believe a secret can be kept?” - -“Well, I can’t remember keeping many myself,” chuckled Poke. “And they -say murder will out, you know. This wasn’t murder, of course, but it -came uncomfortably near it.” - -“It sure did!” agreed Step. - -Sam dug his hands deeper in his pockets. Being human, and -companionable, and very fond of Poke and Step, he had been sorely -tempted to confide in his friends. But the Major had warned him -not to gossip about the affair, and the Major’s wish naturally had -great weight. As for Poke’s theory that the story would become known -generally, sooner or later--well, Sam had his doubts. So far as he -knew, only his parents and the Major shared with him knowledge of what -had happened in the woods. - -In school that day Sam studied hard and paid close attention to the -recitations. That was part of his plan for proving to his father that -he could deserve confidence. When the class was dismissed, he made -careful selection of the books he would need for home study, and so was -a little behind his mates in leaving the building. Within a hundred -yards of the school-ground gates, however, he overtook a group of boys, -clustered closely about two disputants. One, as he saw, was Step; the -other, Tom Orkney. - -From a little distance the Shark was regarding the squabble through his -big glasses. - -“What’s the row about?” Sam asked as he came up. - -“Nothing!” said the Shark. “That’s why they’re making such a fuss.” - -Sam laughed, but quickly grew serious. Both Step and Tom were talking -loudly, each hurling threats and defiance at the other; Step’s long -arms were going like a windmill’s, while Orkney’s fists were doubled. -From his acquaintance with the methods of adolescent controversy it -appeared to be probable that words were about to lead to blows. - -“Just one of Orkney’s grouches,” the Shark went on indifferently. “He’s -been ruffling his feathers at Step ever since that business in Greek -the other day.” - -Sam nodded. “That, eh? But they’re going too far--they’ll be mixing it -up.” - -“Well, Step’s got the reach by fully four inches.” - -“Maybe, but Orkney’s a tough customer.” - -The Shark turned, and deliberately inspected Sam from head to foot. -“You could do him up,” he said with cold-blooded calmness. - -“Perhaps. That isn’t saying Step could, though. He hasn’t weight -enough.” - -At this instant Orkney, catching sight of Sam in the background, -changed his tactics. He moved away from Step, and lowered his hands. - -“So that’s the game, is it?” he taunted. “Keep blustering, but be sure -not to hit a fellow till your gang’s here to back you--that’s your way, -Step Jones. Had to wait for Sam Parker, didn’t you?” - -Step’s anger was that of the patient man, slow to kindle but hard to -extinguish. He struck at his opponent, but long as his arm was, missed -him by inches. - -Sam instinctively started forward, and forced a way through the ring. -Tom fell back a pace. - -“That’s right! Pile on--the whole gang of you!” he shouted. - -Step, for his part, was more than ready to accept the challenge; but -Sam intervened. Impulse--he was willing enough to fight Orkney--had -yielded to sobering second thought. It behooved a young man, intent -upon establishing his self-control and common sense, to avoid brawling -over a trifle on the public street. Sam’s hand caught Step’s collar. - -“Here! Drop the fighting!” he commanded. - -Step wriggled, but the grip on his collar did not yield. - -“Oh, let me at him!” he begged. “We might as well have it out--he’s -been pestering me for a week.” - -“Never mind! He’ll stop it now.” - -“Oh, I will, will I?” snarled Orkney. “I’d like to know who’s going to -make me!” - -“I might,” said Sam simply. - -“Bah! Dare you to try--alone!” - -“That’s the way I will try it--some day,” Sam told him. “But not now; -no, not now.” - -“That’s right--safety first!” sneered the other. - -Sam grinned; and it was an odd grin. “Certainly; safety first!” said he. - -Step ceased to struggle; but, twisting his neck, stared at his friend. -And then the Shark chose to advance. - -“Sam’s right,” he announced coolly. “This is no place for a scrap. -Besides, there’s no reason for one. Orkney, you’re a chump to be peeved -at Step for doing you up in Greek, or at me for putting you out at -geometry. See here! You’re a pretty good, all-round performer, but you -can’t beat specialists at their own specialties. Get that? And there’s -no use in being a general sorehead.” - -It was eloquent tribute to the Shark’s moral influence that Orkney -appeared to be impressed. At all events, though he scowled fiercely, -he received the advice in silence. Two or three boys on the outskirts -of the group began to move off. To Sam it seemed to be probable that -the storm had blown over. He released his hold upon Step’s collar; -whereupon Step, still wrathful, took two long strides; found himself -beside Orkney; plucked off his opponent’s cap, and sent it flying -through the air. It sailed over a fence, struck the trunk of a tree, -and dropped to the ground. - -Orkney bristled, but Sam already had laid hands upon Step, and was -dragging him back. - -“Here! Quit all this foolishness!” the peacemaker ordered. - -“Make him get that cap, then!” Orkney insisted. - -“Won’t!” cried Step, and struggled to break from Sam’s hold. - -Again the Shark intervened. “No; it was a kid trick, but now that it’s -done, we’ll let it stay done. Orkney, if you hadn’t bulldozed Step, -and started the whole thing, the cap would still be on your head. So I -guess it’s up to you to put it back there--or let it stay where it is.” - -“Sure! It was a six-year-old’s performance, but the Shark has the right -notion,” Sam agreed. - -There was an instant in which Orkney hesitated between war and peace. -Then he reached a decision which was compromise--and as unsatisfactory -as compromises often are. He neither gave battle nor retrieved his -headgear. Instead, with a parting scowl, which included all the allies, -he wheeled, and marched away, bareheaded. - -“You, Step, you bring that cap to my house, or you’ll be sorry!” he -called back over his shoulder. - -“Never!” shouted Step defiantly. - -The Shark stared at the retreating figure. “I’ll be hanged if the whole -bunch oughtn’t to be back in the kindergarten,” was his comment. “Of -all idiocies! You plumb make me tired, Step--you and that runaway pal -of yours!” - -“But you wouldn’t get his cap for him if you were in my place,” Step -insisted. - -“But I’m not in your place,” said the Shark drily. - -Sam shook his head. “Let’s stop this squabbling, fellows. One row’s -enough at a time. Or, better yet, let’s end one without starting -another.” - -The Shark’s expression was thoughtful. “If we have ended one,” said he. -“Orkney’s a queer duck. There may be more to this ridiculous affair -than we dream.” - - - - -CHAPTER IX POKE AND STEP PUT THEIR HEADS TOGETHER - - -Memory of the successful raid by Mr. Mercer’s big hound and its unhappy -results rankled in the breasts of Poke and Step. - -It was one thing, they agreed, to be joint victims of hard luck; but -it was quite another thing--and a deal harder to endure--to behold -the author of their misfortunes jogging about the streets, wholly -unpunished for his misdeeds. Step even had a gloomy notion that the dog -was plumper than usual, which, if well founded, was higher tribute to -the nourishing qualities of the looted chicken than to the prevalence -of even-handed justice, to Step’s way of thinking. This view, confided -to Poke, met ready acceptance. - -“Sure thing! And there ought to be something we could do about it,” -observed Poke. - -“Oh, I’ll find a way to get even,” Step declared. - -“How?” - -“Oh, you wait, and you’ll see,” said Step darkly. - -Poke, as has been related, had leanings toward philosophy. Now he -meditated briefly. - -“See here, Step!” he said. “If you’re going to get at this thing, you’d -better get at it right. You ought to teach him a lesson.” - -“That’s just what I’ll do!” - -Poke shook his head. “No; you don’t get me. You’re thinking of letting -drive a stone at him, or giving him a whipping, but what’d be the use? -He wouldn’t know why you did it.” - -“Huh! Guess he would,” growled Step. - -“He wouldn’t,” Poke insisted. “That is, he wouldn’t unless you schemed -out a way to remind him of the stolen rooster. There’s got to be -something to make him see there’s a connection--get me?” - -Step sniffed contemptuously. “What you want me to do? Make him a speech -or send him a letter about it?” - -“Neither,” quoth Poke calmly. “But unless you make him understand that -he’s being punished for stealing, he’ll think you’re thrashing him out -of pure meanness.” - -Step rubbed his chin. “I suppose that’s so,” he admitted. “But how can -you work it? How can you make him understand? I’m weak on dog-lingo, -myself.” - -Poke smiled, a little pityingly. “Listen, and I’ll tell you something -I read the other day. There was a chap who owned a dog, and he was a -bully dog, except that he would steal chickens. So the man tied a dead -hen to his collar, and left it there till--well, till that dog didn’t -want ever to see another one or get anywhere near it. And that’s my -idea--something like it, anyway--for teaching the hound a lesson.” - -Step began to take interest. “Gee, but you have got an idea there! -Only, if there’s anything left of the chicken he stole, we don’t know -where to find it. And----” - -“Don’t need to!” Poke broke in. “Look here now! Say you’re dealing with -chickens. What do you come to first?” - -“Hen-house,” said Step promptly. - -Poke frowned. “No, no! Wake up! You come first to the feathers.” - -“Oh, that way? Yes!” - -The frown vanished. “Exactly!” said Poke. “So, if we teach that dog to -let feathers alone, he won’t bother many chickens--see?” - -Step’s manner was slightly skeptical. “Oh, that’s easy to talk about, -but, practically, how are you going----” - -Poke didn’t let him finish the sentence. “Ever smell burning feathers? -Well, I guess you have, all right! And don’t you think that if we tie -a pail to his collar, and there are some burning feathers in the pail, -Mr. Dog’ll get enough of chickens to last him a lifetime?” - -Step was a generous fellow; he didn’t grudge a friend a triumph. - -“Gee, Poke, but you’re a corker! How’d you ever work that out? But I -say! I can improve on the pail. Up in our attic’s one of those queer, -old-fashioned lanterns with tin sides punched full of holes--like a -colander, you know. And there’s a double chain to it--guess they used -to hang it up outdoors. And there are snaps on the chain--might have -been made for us. Only”--he paused an instant--“only how’re you going -to be sure the stuff will burn?” - -Poke smiled the smile of easy confidence. “Don’t you worry! A few rags -soaked in kerosene, and stuffed in with the feathers will take care of -that, all right!” - -From this discussion and activities which followed, it happened that -when Sam turned a corner near Mr. Mercer’s gate he came upon his two -chums engaged in friendly overtures to a large and somewhat suspicious -dog. Poke, as he saw, had a tempting bit of meat, while Step held -behind him a rusty contrivance of tin, from which loops of still more -rusty chain depended. - -“Halloo! What’s up?” Sam demanded curiously. - -“Oh, first class in dog manners--that’s all,” responded Step lightly. - -Poke whistled softly, and held the meat nearer the dog, which took a -step forward, halted, eyed the tidbit greedily. - -Sam, far from clear as to what was afoot and inclined to caution not -only by his new resolves but also by acquaintance with other ventures -of his friends, watched the proceedings dubiously. - -“I don’t yet grasp what’s the game,” he remarked. - -Poke was lavishing blandishments upon the dog, and extending the bait; -so it was left to Step to make explanation. - -“It’s that chicken business. We’re going to get even--teach him a -lesson, I mean.... Got a scheme, a crackerjack scheme. Just you keep -your eyes peeled.” - -“They’re peeled, all right, but----” Sam hesitated an instant. “I say, -you fellows, better not get in trouble. Remember, you belong to the -Safety First Club!” - -“Huh! No chance of trouble--for us!” Step insisted. “Look here, Sam!” -He displayed part of the chain with a snap at the end. “Two just like -this--see? Well, we’re going to pass one of ’em around the dog’s neck, -so-fashion.” In illustration he wound the chain about his own left -wrist and for good measure took an extra turn. “Then we fasten it.” -Another illustration, the rusty spring of the catch being moved with -some difficulty. “Then, having fixed it so he can’t get rid of it, -we----” - -There Step broke off, for good and sufficient reason. For things were -beginning to happen, and the procession of events was moving with -startling speed. - -The dog, sacrificing caution to appetite, came within Poke’s reach; -whereupon Poke, dropping the meat, caught the hound as he tried to -gobble up the bait; deftly slipped the second chain about the animal’s -neck, successfully worked the snap at the first attempt; wheeled; -whipped out a match; struck it, and lighted a rag protruding like a -fuse from the old tin lantern, which had been brought from behind -Step’s back, as that youth gave Sam an object lesson. - -The kerosene-soaked rag flamed fiercely; almost instantly, dense black -smoke began to pour from the holes in the lantern. Poke, who had -been busy with the contrivance and the dog, with never a thought of -complications involving his comrade, sprang back with a shout of glee, -which perhaps added somewhat--though increase was scarcely needed--to -the terror of the hound, which gave a panic-stricken howl and a -tremendous bound. - -Step, who had been tearing desperately and quite vainly at the chain -about his wrist--the rusty catch stuck as if it had been soldered--was -caught off his balance; dragged forward and into a run, which, under -the circumstances, he could not check. The big dog, as heavy and -powerful as many a sledge-team leader of the Far North, bolted wildly, -yet with a general purpose; and this purpose being to seek asylum from -the infernal machine at his heels, he dashed through the gate and -toward the house, Step following, willy-nilly, his long legs flying -and his long arms going like the arms of a windmill in a gale; while -dangling from the chain between dog and boy, the old lantern emitted -great volumes of choking smoke of most evil odor. - -“Say, Step, where you going?” shouted the bewildered Poke, who was -still unaware of the difficulty in which his chum was involved. “What’s -the matter? The pair of you look like an engine going to a fire!” - -Now to this Step, for perfectly good reasons, made no reply. And Poke, -seeing that Sam was running after his friend, joined in the pursuit. So -the procession swept up the drive, turned a corner of the house, and -headed for the side porch, under which the dog had a den of his own, -entrance to which was secured by a break in the latticework. Through -this opening he shot with a final tug of such violence that Step was -jerked forward, falling on his knees, with his head close to the -barrier. And as by this time his fright fairly matched the dog’s, and -as he fell to shouting for help as lustily as he could against the odds -of the suffocating smoke, which poured through the lattice, and as the -dog was howling more madly than ever, it may be imagined that there was -a pretty to-do under and about the side porch of the Mercer house. - -Sam and Poke, naturally enough, tried to drag Step back from his most -unpleasant position; but the dog had braced himself, or the chain had -caught on some obstruction, so that the only result of their endeavors -was to pull Step’s knees from under him, drop him flat on his stomach, -and leave him, if anything, rather more helpless than before. Moreover, -the cook came hurrying from the kitchen and the hired man from the -barn; and jumping to the conclusion that where there was so much smoke -there surely must be fire, both dashed buckets of water with better -intention than aim. Very little of the water passed through the -lattice; a fair share of it spattered Sam and Poke, and a great deal -drenched the unhappy Step. - -The cook ran back to the kitchen for a fresh supply; but, luckily, the -hired man, sighting the chain extending from Step’s wrist, laid hold -upon it, and tugged with all his strength, and the dog, recognizing his -voice, changed tactics, and charged from under the porch, bounding over -the prostrate Step so swiftly that he turned a complete somersault, -when the chain tautened again. The old lantern, still smoking -voluminously, fell between boy and dog. - -“Jee-rusalem!” gasped the hired man in bewilderment. - -“Sa-sakes alive!” quavered the cook, who had reappeared with a freshly -filled bucket. - -Poke began to laugh hysterically; but Sam kept his wits. He caught -the bucket from the woman’s hand, and plunged the lantern into the -water. There was a long, hissing sound, a final puff of steam--and then -comparative peace. - -Step sat up. The dog, trembling like a leaf and whining weakly, crawled -to the hired man. From the vantage ground of the porch the cook spoke -wonderingly and reprovingly: - -“Well, I vum, but you boys do beat my time! What on earth do you think -you’re up to? Playin’ horse with poor Hector there?” - -“No--not a bit; ’twasn’t that at all!” protested Step. - -The cook sniffed. “Feathers--burnin’ feathers! I can tell ’em every -time! But what’s your notion in puttin’ ’em in that thing?” And she -pointed at the ancient lantern. - -Step got upon his feet. He fumbled at the chain at his wrist; and, by -an irony of fate, the old catch now gave at a touch. Step rubbed the -flesh into which the links had sunk. He tried to summon a propitiating -smile. - -“Oh, the feathers?” he said very mildly. “Oh, yes; the feathers. -Why--why, we--we thought Hector there--he--well, he ought to know about -’em.” - -“Land o’ love! but the boy’s crazy!” - -The hired man scratched his head. “Must say it looks like it, Katy. -Still, I dunno--boys’ll be boys. And this young man acted ’sif he was -willin’ to learn same time Hector did. They were sharin’, and sharin’ -alike, on the smudge-pot, te he!” - -Step scowled, but Poke burst into a roar of laughter, which eased the -situation. The cook chuckled; Sam smiled. The hired man smote his thigh -with his hand. - -“Gee-whillikens! but I never saw the like of it! And I guess no great -harm’s done. Don’t seem to be no fire under the porch.” - -Then Poke found tongue. “It’s this way: The dog stole a chicken, -and got us into a scrape. We thought we’d--er--er--we’d teach him -a lesson and sicken him of stealing. And feathers and chickens go -together--and--er--er--get the idea, don’t you?” - -“Sorter!” grinned the hired man. “Kind o’ think I do, sonny. And -t’other fellow got tangled up, somehow. Wal, yes, I do see how ’twas.” - -“Then, if you don’t mind, we’ll be going home.” - -The hired man waved his hand. “I would, if I was you,” he said. “I’d go -home and get into some dry clothes.” - -The three friends moved down the drive, with Step, a truly disconsolate -and melancholy figure between the other two. For a little none of them -spoke. It was left to Poke to break the silence with one of his bits of -philosophy. - -“You’ve got to live to learn,” quoth he. “Now, who’d have thought--no -use, though, crying over spilt milk! And what on earth made Step want -to chain himself up--no; we won’t talk about that, either. But I say, -Sam, I tell you there’s a lot of sense in that notion of yours! Safety -First for me after this--yes, sir; Safety First every time!” - - - - -CHAPTER X QUEER TROUBLES - - -It is not to be supposed that Sam Parker, in spite of his exhibition of -new self-control in the affair of Step and Tom Orkney, had taken on the -gravity of years. There was, indeed, a change in the boy, but it was -subtle rather than manifest. Sam worked a little harder than before, -but played with no lack of zest. It was to be noted, however, that -there was a decrease in the number of scrapes into which he fell. - -Perhaps Hannibal, Sam’s bull terrier, was first to perceive, if not to -understand, the change. Hannibal was a sagacious animal, beyond the -follies of puppyhood, but still full of interest in the doings of his -master and his friends; fond of a long tramp in their company; and very -pleased to doze comfortably in a corner of the club room. The new days -were much to Hannibal’s liking. Sam never had been cruel to him, but at -times may have been a bit thoughtless. Now, though, Hannibal enjoyed a -degree of consideration quite unparalleled in his experience. - -Lon Gates, shrewdly observant, began to remark that Sam’s visits to the -barn resulted in less disturbance of its orderly arrangements. - -“Ain’t had a hedgehog day lately, have you, Sam?” he queried. “World -don’t seem to be so all-fired uncomfortably crowded as it was, eh? And -I dunno’s there’s so much genooine solace in kickin’ over buckets as a -feller might think there was.” - -“True enough, Lon,” said the boy soberly. - -The hired man grinned cheerfully. “They say nobody has to hunt for -trouble, and I guess there’s sense in that. Still, it’s amazin’ how -often trouble’ll let you alone if you don’t go stirrin’ it up. There’s -that wuthless scamp, Peter Groche, now. He wouldn’t ’a’ been locked up -over night if he hadn’t been so cantankerous. Course, they really took -him in on suspicion, and I must say Groche is about the suspicionest -nuisance that infests these parts. And all he got out of bein’ ugly was -a sleep behind the bars.” - -“That’s so,” said Sam. - -“Funny how close-mouthed the Major is ’bout the whole business,” Lon -went on. “If only he’d talk he’d make things easier for quite a lot of -the chaps that was out gunnin’ that day.” - -“Yes?” - -Lon chuckled. “Te he! There’s always a reg’lar bargain sale rush -when the season opens, but this year it was wuss than usual. Seems -as if everybody was sort o’ venison hungry; so it turns out there’s -about a dozen fellers who ain’t been able to prove what you’d call a -water-tight alibi. That is, they can’t bring witnesses to show that -they didn’t pot the Major; and they’re bein’ joshed half out o’ their -lives, some of ’em. You see, first and last, a sight o’ folks must -have been prowlin’ through Marlow woods that mornin’, and none of ’em -happened to think to keep a time register. The huntin’ crowd’s all tore -up about it.” - -“No doubt,” said Sam. If he had cared to meet Lon’s eye, he might have -noted a twinkle, suggesting that the hired man had theories of his own -as to the identity of the careless sportsman. But Sam avoided Lon’s -gaze, and Lon chose not to make direct inquiry. - -“Well, this world does see a heap of entertainin’ things, comin’ and -goin’,” he observed. “Good scheme, too--keeps folks from stagnatin’ and -gettin’ as dull as ditch water. Plainville’s perkin’ up a lot because -of the Major and his unknown party o’ the second part, as we’d be -sayin’ if you and me was lawyers.” - -Here Lon spoke within the truth. The town was making a nine days’ -wonder of the affair; and what the town talked, the school talked, and -the club. - -Sam, so far as he could, kept out of the discussions; permitted his -chums to speculate as they pleased; and watched and waited for the -interest in the matter to wear itself out. - -Oddly enough, Peter Groche appeared to be following the same policy. He -was about town as usual, doing odd jobs when work was unavoidable. No -improvement was reported in his habits, but even in his cups his tongue -was not loosed, so far as his feud with Major Bates and its recent -development were concerned. He grumbled and made threats, to be sure, -but he had been grumbling and threatening people for years; and from -his incoherent growls his cronies gained no information. If he had an -inkling of the secret of Marlow woods, he was keeping it to himself. - -Step’s quarrel with Tom Orkney seemed to have led to nothing, even -in the way of reprisals. There was no second demand upon Master -Jones to recover the cap, nor was there formal notice that he should -repay the owner for the seized property. In debates at the club the -probability of the latter course had been stoutly upheld by Poke Green, -who developed such concern in the outcome that he made a searching -expedition, from which he bore back tidings that the cap was not to -be found where it had fallen. Step insisted this merely went to show -that Orkney, when the coast was clear, had returned to the scene and -regained possession of the cap, thus avoiding loss and “saving face.” - -“But he’s wearing another bonnet,” Poke pointed out. - -“Oh, that’s because he’s too stuffy to admit the truth,” Step declared. -“He’s as stubborn as a mule--that’s the whole case in a nutshell.” - -The club agreed with this opinion of Orkney more heartily than it -endorsed Step’s performance, which was held to be juvenile, albeit -not without provocation. Sam’s interference was accepted with respect -rather than warm approval. As Poke put it, somebody, sooner or later, -would have to thrash Orkney; and Step might as well have tried his -hand. Whereat the Shark spoke up from his corner. - -“Say, that’s nice doctrine to be preaching at the Safety First Club!” - -For an instant Poke was abashed. “Why--why, there’s something in that. -I guess I wasn’t thinking of our new name.” - -“Well, Sam was,” said the Shark crisply. - -“Huh!” grunted Poke. He glanced thoughtfully at Sam; seemed to be about -to continue; changed his mind, and let the subject drop. - -Sam went home that afternoon to find Lon in uncommonly bad humor. -Somebody, it appeared, had opened a faucet in the barn, and left the -water running in a merry stream. As a result, half the floor had been -flooded, and annoying, if not heavy, damage had been caused. Lacking -evidence to the contrary, Lon was disposed to hold Sam responsible. - -“But I had nothing to do with it,” the boy explained. “I don’t know how -it happened.” - -“Foolin’ ’round here, wasn’t you, after school?” - -“Yes--but I didn’t touch the faucet.” - -“Guess you’re gettin’ absent-minded.” - -Sam reddened wrathfully, but kept his head. Very clearly he realized -that he had a deal at stake. A youth on probation, as he was, must shun -rages as well as keep his record clean. - -“Look here, Lon!” he said. “I’m not joking--I’m in earnest. And I tell -you I’m not to blame. I mean it--honor bright!” - -Lon rubbed his chin. “I swan, but it plumb beats my time! You’re sure -you didn’t do it, and I’ll swear I ain’t been walkin’ in my sleep and -cuttin’ up didoes for more’n a year. Yet here was the water goin’ like -all possessed! Now, who set it goin’?” - -“I didn’t,” said Sam decidedly. - -“Hanged if I believe you did!” Lon had been studying the boy keenly. -“You’ve got as much of Old Nick in you as the next ’un, generally, but -you _have_ been behavin’ pretty well lately. And you ain’t a liar any -time. So it looks as if we’d got to add this to the list o’ mysteries, -’long with who struck Billy Patterson. Only I do wish I could lay hands -on the skunk that made all this mess, and argy with him a while on -the error of his ways.” And Lon frowned as he turned his gaze to the -water-soaked planks. - -Sam went on to the house, but only to find himself again in the rôle of -defendant. The complainant this time was Maggie, who swooped down upon -him when he entered the kitchen. She caught him by the arm, dragged him -across the room, and pointed tragically to a tub, in which were soaking -several mud-stained garments. - -“See all the trouble you’re makin’ me, you imp!” she cried. “How do -you s’pose I’m a-goin’ to do all the work of this big house, with you -snoopin’ round, and breakin’ my clothes-line, and lettin’ down half a -wash into the dirt? All them things to be put to soak and done over! I -tell you I just won’t stand it, I won’t! We’ll see, Mr. Sam, what your -mother’ll have to say to such tricks!” - -Sam wriggled free. “But, Maggie, you’re all wrong,” he protested. “I -didn’t break the clothes-line.” - -Maggie sniffed incredulously. “Course not! Must have been Hannibal or -the cat! Go ’way with you, tryin’ to bamboozle me with such talk!” - -Poor Sam felt like throwing up his hands in despair, or bursting into -vehement denials. But once more he was reminded of the stake for which -he was playing. - -“Honestly, Maggie, I had nothing to do with dropping the wash,” he -declared so emphatically that she could not but be impressed. “I didn’t -even notice that you’d hung it out. And as for breaking the line----” - -“Well, somebody broke it!” said Maggie tartly. “Look at it!” And she -snatched a coil of rope from a shelf above the tub. - -Sam gravely inspected the parted strands. - -“Well, it is broken, fast enough,” he began. “That is”--he was peering -hard at the end of the line--“that is, it isn’t broken--I was mistaken; -this has been cut.” - -“What do you mean?” - -“Cut with a knife--and a sharp knife, at that. Made a clean gash. No -accident there, Maggie!” - -The cook took time to make careful examination. - -“My stars, Sam Parker, but you’ve got a head on you, after all!” she -declared. “Who’d ’a’ thought it! No; I don’t mean the head--it’s the -miserable meanness of the job. But who on earth would be so ugly?” - -“I don’t know,” said Sam. “Anyway, though, I’m not the fellow.” - -“Well, puttin’ it that way, I don’t suppose you are,” Maggie admitted. -“But I’d give a pretty penny to be able to figure out who is.” - -“So would I,” Sam agreed gravely. - -He had cause to repeat the statement in the next few days. Things went -wrong about the Parker place with peculiar persistence. Valuable young -trees were broken down; gates, supposed to be kept closed, were found -open; Hannibal, for whose care Sam was responsible, was missing over -night and came limping home in the morning in badly battered condition. -And in each instance it appeared to be incumbent upon the son of the -house to prove his innocence. It is an old rule of the books that -there is much difficulty in establishing a negative proposition. Sam’s -patience was sorely tried, but he kept his wits about him, remembered -the demands of his situation, and did his best to win confidence by -deserving it. - -He had his suspicions, of course, that there was something more than -mere coincidence in the succession of troubles. Also he had a theory -as to their cause. In amateur fashion he undertook detective work. In -other words, so far as he could, he maintained a close, if unobtrusive, -watch upon the doings of Tom Orkney. - - - - -CHAPTER XI THE CLUB GETS A CLUE - - -It was Friday evening, and the Safety First Club was in full session. -Sam, Step and Poke were gossiping about school affairs, and with them -was Herman Boyd, a new member and a brother junior. Willy Reynolds -and Harry Walker, otherwise known as “Trojan,” a recently admitted -classmate, were playing checkers in a corner. - -The Shark, who was human enough to have his little affectations, -pretended to care not at all for the game, holding it to be a poor and -trifling substitute for chess; but it was to be observed that he was -doing his best to win. Moreover, when he did win, he chuckled gleefully. - -“Hew-ee! You ought to have known that last move was coming,” he told -his opponent. “But you gave me the opening, and then I had you.” - -Trojan Walker laughed. “I’d have known all about it if I could see -around two corners at once as you do. Never mind, though! I’ll win yet. -Set up your men, Shark.” - -Poke strolled over to the players while they were ranging their pieces. - -“Fellow who wears glasses like the Shark’s ought to be able to see -everything,” he remarked idly. “All the same, Trojan, you’ll notice he -isn’t making out much about Orkney’s schemes.” - -“Humph! What can Tom do?” objected Herman Boyd. “That row of his with -Step is ancient history.” - -“Sure! And the time for a come-back was right after the row,” chimed in -Trojan. - -Poke wagged his head sagaciously. “Don’t fool yourselves!” said he. -“Orkney is a sticker. He’s got it in for Step, and for Sam, for that -matter. We haven’t had the last of the business, not by a long shot.” - -“Hear that, eh, Sam?” asked Herman. - -Sam rose from his chair, and crossed to the checker players’ corner. - -“I heard it,” said he. - -“Well, do you agree?” - -“Yes,” said Sam brusquely. - -For a moment nobody spoke. All his friends realized that he was taking -the matter seriously. - -“Why--why--you must have some reason, of course?” Herman ventured. - -Sam hesitated. “Maybe it’s more hunch than reason.” - -“But what gave you the hunch?” - -“Oh, one thing and then another.” - -“Huh! That sounds like some of my answers in history!” quoth Poke. -“It’s specially like those I make when I’m meeting a total stranger of -a question, and trying to be polite, if not communicative.” - -The Shark wriggled in his chair; he was growing impatient to resume -play. - -“Your move, Trojan!” he snapped. - -“Wait a minute!” said his opponent. “Sam’s going to elucidate.” - -“Well, things have happened and kept on happening,” Sam began; “things -that can’t be explained except----But I say, Shark! What on earth’s the -matter?” - -Young Reynolds, who had turned from the table in disgust at the delay, -of a sudden had uttered an exclamation and started to his feet. - -“Speak out! What is it?” Sam demanded. - -The Shark pulled off his spectacles; held the lenses to the light; -inspected them closely; shook his head. - -“No; they’re not clouded,” said he, half to himself. “Very curious, I -do declare!” - -“What’s curious? And what are you driving at?” - -“Of course, it might have been a tricky reflection,” mused the Shark. -“Or, maybe, it was just an optical illusion.” - -Sam caught him by both shoulders. “Wake up! What are you talking about?” - -“Then, again, the doctor tells me eye-strain works queerly sometimes.” - -Sam shook the slender youth vigorously. “Get back to earth! Let’s have -some sense out of all this. Thought you saw something, didn’t you? -Well, what was it?” - -“Man looking in the window!” said the other calmly. - -“Oh!” cried Sam, and whipped about. Certainly no face now was pressed -against the pane. He ran to the door, opened it, and sprang into -darkness, closely followed by all the other members of the club except -the Shark, who was busying himself in polishing his glasses and -replacing them on his nose. This task was completed to his satisfaction -when the boys came straggling back. Their search had been utterly -without result. - -They crowded about the Shark, and rained questions upon him. Just what -had he seen? How long had he seen it? What had he to say for himself, -anyway? - -The Shark waved them back. “Here! Don’t walk all over a fellow!” -he cried. “What I saw--or thought I saw--was a head. I had just a -glimpse--there one instant, gone the next--presto, change business! -Looked like a human head.” - -“You said it was a man’s,” Sam reminded him. - -“Well, it might have been a boy’s--I couldn’t make it out clearly, you -understand. It was vague, shadowy.” - -“Then, of course, you didn’t recognize the face?” - -“No,” said the Shark. “And you’ll understand, too, that I don’t insist -that I really saw anything. You know, these glasses of mine--chance of -freak of refracted light--all the rest of it. What’s the good, though, -of getting all stirred up about it? If anybody was outside, he’s far -enough away now. I’ll bet he’s running yet if he heard the crowd -galloping out after him. Sit down, Trojan! You haven’t won a game.” - -Walker plumped himself into a chair. “Well, you are a cool hand!” he -said, with a touch of admiration. “But I’m going to beat you this time, -all the same. Whose move is it?” - -Step lounged across the room, but the others stood watching the play, -which went on briskly, and to the advantage of the mathematical genius. -The Trojan, beaten rather disgracefully, pushed back his chair. - -“Tackle him, Poke,” he urged. “Or you take him on, Sam. This isn’t my -night, I reckon.” - -Poke grinned. “Age before beauty! Go ahead, Sam.” - -But there was to be no more checker play in the club just then. For, -while Sam paused, debating his chance of coping with the skilful Shark, -there was a loud crash of a breaking window pane, a little shower of -fragments of glass fell to the floor, and a big stone shot across the -room, just missing the boys standing by the table, which it struck with -great force. Over went the table with a crash, rivaling that of the -window. Over, too, went the Shark, untouched but thoroughly startled by -the bombardment. - -Sam and Poke, Step and the Trojan and Herman Boyd poured out of the -club like bees sallying forth to defend the hive. Around the corner -of the building they raced, eager to detect the enemy. Prompt as they -had been, however, they were too late. The night was very dark; there -was much shrubbery about, which, even in its leafless state, afforded -cover. The stone-thrower was gone. The boys could not detect a darker -shadow betraying his whereabouts, and there was no sound of fleeing -feet. - -Sam and Poke turned to the right, and the others to the left, spreading -out as they neared the barn. The course taken by Sam and his comrade -led toward the house, round which they worked their way as rapidly as -possible. Strain their eyes as they might, they saw nothing to arouse -suspicion; nor were they better rewarded when they moved to the -street, and peered up and down road and sidewalk. - -“Clean get-away,” Poke said reluctantly. “Fellow must have bolted just -as soon as he let drive. And it must have been the chap the Shark saw -at the window, of course. What a pity he hasn’t a decent pair of eyes!” - -“It’s the biggest kind of a pity,” Sam agreed. “This affair is no joke, -Poke. If that stone had struck one of us--whew!” - -Poke laid a hand on Sam’s arm. “Come now!” He dropped his voice almost -to a whisper. “Fellow who threw that stone was pretty savage, or crazy, -or--or revengeful. And--and you won’t need maps or foot-notes to -understand who I reckon he is.” - -“I wouldn’t ask but one guess,” said Sam. - -Poke was silent for a moment, listening intently. “The others have -had no better luck than we,” he reported. “Might as well go back, I -suppose.” - -“All right,” Sam agreed, and they moved toward the club-house. - -Meanwhile the Shark, who had picked himself up from the floor and -found that he was none the worse for his upset, had been making an -investigation on his own account. First, he raised the big stone, -shifting it meditatively from one hand to the other, as if he were -estimating its weight. Then he crossed to the window and measured the -height from the floor of the jagged hole in the glass. This done, he -furrowed his brow, pulled out pencil and note-book from his pockets, -and fell to making a calculation of some sort. He was still engaged in -this when Sam and Poke entered. - -“No luck!” Poke informed him. “The fellow got away.” - -The Shark didn’t look up. “Hm-m! Thought he would.” - -“So that’s why you didn’t try to chase him?” - -“Partly. ’Nother reason was that I wanted to do some figuring.” - -“On what?” - -“Oh, don’t bother me!” snapped the Shark. “I’m right in the midst of -things.” - -Poke frowned. “You needn’t be so snippy. Sam and I have done some -figuring, too, and we’ve been quicker about it than you. And we -know--what we know.” - -The Shark raised his eyes. “Umph! Don’t be too all-fired sure,” he -counseled. - -Poke took a step toward him. “See here, you owl! Our figuring has made -us certain--morally certain, that is--that we know who threw that -stone.” - -Usually the gaze of the Shark was unwavering, but now he was blinking -rapidly. - -“Go slow, Poke,” said he. “Moral certainty doesn’t answer problems in -mathematics.” - -“Bosh! This isn’t mathematics.” - -“’Deed it is!” - -“Hold on, boys!” said Sam. “You’re getting nowhere. Now, Shark, listen! -Poke and I believe that Tom Orkney did this thing. We hate to think he -would, but we believe it because----” - -“Because you’re wrong. Tom couldn’t have done it--at least, I don’t -admit that he could. It won’t work out that way.” - -“Work out?” - -The Shark nodded. “Of course, I have to depend on estimates, and I -don’t pretend that I can show exact results,” he began; but paused as -Step strode into the room, closely pursued by Boyd and the Trojan. - -In the middle of the floor Step halted. Not a word said he, but raised -a hand dramatically. - -The hand held an object, recognized at sight by every boy there. It -was the cap, owned by Tom Orkney, which had figured in the celebrated -quarrel. - - - - -CHAPTER XII PUNISHMENT POSTPONED - - -There was a long pause, and a very significant pause it was. The -boys stared at the cap in Step’s hand; then they glanced from one to -another. Here and there a head nodded, as if in answer to an unspoken -question; but it was left to Poke to break the silence. - -“Jupiter crickets! That settles it, I guess. Well, I never have liked -Tom Orkney, but I didn’t think him up to this sort of thing!” - -“Or down to it!” cried Herman Boyd. - -“Now you’re talking!” chimed in the Trojan. “Lowest-down trick that -ever was!” - -“Trick! Huh! Worse than that!” growled Poke. “Why, that rock might have -killed one of us!” - -The Shark appeared to be estimating the weight of the stone. “Yes; it’s -heavy enough,” he said calmly. “If it had struck anybody squarely, the -result might have been fatal.” - -There was a wrathful gleam in Sam’s eye. “Where did you find the cap, -Step?” he demanded. “Let’s get down to business.” - -“It was on the ground, back of the barn--low limb of one of the apple -trees must have knocked it off his head. Great luck that I stumbled -upon it; and that was just what I did. Too dark to see anything, but my -foot caught in something, and I stopped and picked the something up. -And here it is!” - -Poke was wagging his head in his peculiar fashion. “Fellows, it’s as -plain as day. Orkney has been too proud to wear the cap to school, but -he didn’t mind putting it on at night, when nobody would notice it. -Then he came sneaking around the club-house. The Shark must have had a -glimpse of him at the window. When we went out to see who was there, -he lay low. As soon as we came back into the house, he let drive the -boulder at the first chance, and then bolted for all he was worth. He -had such a start that he got away; but he didn’t dare stop to pick up -the cap. And now, I say, we have him where we want him.” - -“You bet we have!” - -“That’s hitting the nail on the head!” - -“Gee! but it was a cowardly job!” - -So spoke the Trojan, Step and Boyd. Poke warmed to his theme, after the -manner of orators, encouraged by applause. - -“We’ve got him where we want him, and we’ll put him through the works. -I tell you, he’ll be mighty sorry before this thing is ended. Why, he -ought to be arrested and sent to jail!” - -“H-m-m-m!” It was a murmur tinged with disapproval, which Poke did not -fail to perceive. - -“Wait a minute, fellows!” he said hastily. “I know what you’re -thinking, and I guess you’re right. We can take care of this case -ourselves. We will, too! If the club can’t defend itself, it ought to -go out of business.” - -There was another murmur, all approval. - -“It may have been Step’s scrap in the beginning, but it’s our scrap -now,” Poke went on. “It’s a club affair. That stone was thrown at the -bunch--at Sam, for instance, as much as at Step.” - -The Shark grunted. “Huh! Be accurate, Poke, be accurate! It wasn’t -thrown at Step at all. He was out of range--across the room from the -rest of us. He wasn’t in sight from the window.” - -“Eh? What’s that?” - -“It was the fact--come to think of it,” Step himself admitted. “I -remember I’d left the crowd.” - -“Humph! Don’t see that that makes any difference,” argued Poke. - -“It doesn’t--in one way,” said the Shark. “In another, it does. It -means that the person who chucked that stone wasn’t especially after -Step. No doubt he took a good look into the room before he let drive. -And, as I recall the position of each of us, Sam stood where he must -have been the real bull’s-eye of the target.” - -“But what diff----” - -The Shark did not let Poke finish the query. “The difference between -getting things straight or crooked,” he rapped out. “How can you solve -a problem----” - -“Oh, hang mathematics!” Poke interrupted, in turn. “Cut ’em out! This -isn’t a recitation; it’s a row! Let’s hear what Sam has to say.” - -Sam had been keeping silent, but with growing difficulty. He was, as -we know, naturally impulsive, and still a beginner in the practice -of the policy of Safety First. Moreover, he was not a fellow of the -sort to make ready excuse for attacks which smacked of cowardice or -treachery; and his patience had been sorely tried by the series of -depredations about his home. While his clubmates had debated, he had -been considering not only the stone-throwing but also the earlier -instances of what he was now sure was somebody’s revenge. The cap -apparently settled the question of identity. Likewise, the Shark’s -observation regarding the target had its weight. Sam struggled to keep -his temper, but it was like a case of bottling steam in a boiler and -fanning the fire beneath. When you treat a boiler so, there is likely -to be an explosion. - -“What have I to say?” The words seemed to force themselves from his -lips. “You fellows don’t dream how much I could say! This thing -to-night is only a link in a chain.” - -The others stared at him in amazement. - -“Link--link in a chain?” Step repeated. - -“Just that! A chain of meannesses! Listen!” And Sam went on to describe -briefly, but forcefully, the persecution to which he believed he had -been subjected. “And now we’ve had the stoning,” he added. “There is -one explanation, and only one. Tom Orkney has dropped Step and taken me -on. He hates me more for interfering than he hates Step for squabbling -with him. And just as that’s the only explanation, there’s just one way -to handle the case--and that’s for me to settle with Tom Orkney. And I -will--don’t you worry!” - -None of his hearers took his words lightly. All were ready to consider -them very gravely. Here, indeed, was an issue for a youthful court of -honor; and it behooves such courts, young or old, to pass judgment in -all solemnity. - -“Well, I guess you’re entitled,” said Poke slowly. - -The others, with one exception, nodded assent. The Shark looked -unconvinced. - -“Talking about chains,” he remarked, “you mustn’t forget the old rule: -the chain’s no stronger than its weakest link. And there is a link -that may be weak. I don’t say it is, but I do say it may be.” - -“Rats!” snapped Step. - -The Shark wheeled to face him. “Rats nothing! What’s the record--the -school record--for the shot put?” - -“What are you talking about?” - -“The record. What is it?” - -“Oh, thirty or thirty-five feet for the twelve-pound shot.” - -The Shark frowned. “Confound it! but can’t you chaps make anything -exact? ‘Thirty or thirty-five feet’! How’s anybody to make computations -with all unknown quantities?” - -“What are you trying to compute?” - -The Shark juggled the stone, which he still held. “Humph! This weighs -more than twelve pounds, I’ll bet--may run up to fifteen,” said he. -“But what am I figuring on? Why, the amount of force required to send -it through the arc this stone described.” - -“Twelve to fifteen pounds!” jeered Step. “Seems to me you’re furnishing -some of the unknown quantities yourself.” - -“I am,” said the Shark. “I admit it. I also admit that I can’t reach -satisfactory results from such data. But the results I do get--subject -to revision, of course--make me doubt that Tom Orkney could have done -the job. When I have the stone weighed, and when I measure the distance -across the room, and add a good estimate of the distance the thrower -stood from the window, I believe I can plot a curve----” - -A chorus of shouts interrupted him. The non-mathematical members of the -club would have none of such follies. Evidence? Wasn’t the cap evidence -enough to convict Orkney? - -Stoutly the Shark maintained that one should not put too great faith in -circumstantial evidence. - -“What! You’d put more in your old curves and calculations?” cried Step. - -“Every time!” vowed the Shark. - -Sam cut short the discussion. “Look here, fellows!” he said sharply. -“I’m going to thrash Orkney, and there’s no more to be said about it.” - -“Well, thrash ahead!” growled the Shark. “I don’t object to the general -proposition; but I am pointing out that you may be wrong as to your -reason for thrashing him.” - -“I’ll risk that!” cried Sam hotly. “And I’ll even the score at the -first chance I get.” - -This decision, warmly admired and praised by the club, seemed to be -in a fair way for accomplishment on Monday when Sam, walking alone to -school, met Orkney at a street corner. - -Meditation had cooled his anger, but had not lessened his determination -to have a speedy accounting. He put himself in Orkney’s path, and gave -him monosyllabic greeting. - -“Huh!” It must be confessed that there was a distinctly challenging -note in Sam’s growl. - -“Huh!” responded Orkney. In fairness it is to be stated that he -betrayed no sign of anxiety; and instead of halting, stepped aside and -passed the boy holding the center of the walk. - -Sam turned, and overtook him in three long strides. Then they moved on -together, but with a space of three or four feet between them. - -Orkney gazed straight before him. The sullenness of his expression may -have been a trifle more marked than usual. Sam, studying him from the -corner of an eye, decided that his enemy was merely playing a waiting -game. - -There was a moment’s silence. Then said Sam, very grimly: - -“This thing has got to stop--see?” - -The tone was more impressive than the words. Orkney stopped, and -inspected the other coolly. - -“Has, eh? Well, what might ‘this thing’ be?” he inquired. - -“You know well enough!” - -“Guess again. I don’t.” - -“You do.” - -A dull red showed in Orkney’s cheeks. “That’s the same thing as telling -me I don’t tell the truth.” - -“Does sound like it.” - -“Mean to call me a liar?” - -“Yes--if you say you don’t know.” - -Orkney’s fists clenched; but Sam, warily watching, saw that the enemy -kept himself in hand. - -Again there was a pause. Sam broke it: - -“There’s no use in your trying to put up a bluff. It won’t go. You -understand perfectly what I mean.” - -[Illustration: “YOU’RE LOOKING FOR TROUBLE”] - -“I understand that you’re looking for trouble,” said Orkney slowly. -“That’s nothing new with you and your crowd--you think you own the -earth, and you’d like to fence in this part of it for your own -stamping grounds. You had things your own way till I came along, and -you’ve always been down on me because I wouldn’t tail on after your -procession. You’d rather interfere with me than eat, any of you. Why, -just the other day Step Jones----” - -“Leave Step out of this!” Sam interposed. He had not been able to -reconcile himself wholly to Step’s performance; and Orkney having found -a weak spot in his armor, his tone was more belligerent than ever. -“You’re dealing with me and not with Jones this time. And Step doesn’t -beat dogs, and cut clothes-lines, and heave rocks through windows.” - -“Well, who does?” - -“You do!” roared Sam. - -Orkney pulled up. He faced his accuser, and his eyes did not fall -before Sam’s. - -“Parker, you’re talking like a wild man,” he said. - -“Wild, am I? Not much! I’ve got proof!” - -Orkney shrugged his shoulders. “It’s plain enough you’re looking for -a fight, and don’t care how you get it. Now, I tell you, in the first -place, that all this stuff you’re hinting and insinuating is gibberish -to me; and in the second place that if you want fight I’ll give you all -you’re looking for and more, too.” - -“Now?” demanded Sam. - -“No,” said Orkney, and grinned a queer, savage grin. “What’s more, you -know why I won’t fight now. It’s my day to speak for the Lester prize, -and a pretty chance I’d have for it, wouldn’t I, standing up before the -school with a black eye or a cut lip? You talk about bluffs! Where’s -there a bigger bluff than asking a fellow to fight when you know he -can’t take you on? Or maybe this is your game: You’re scheming to -batter me up so that one of your gang can carry off the Lester, eh?” - -“I hadn’t thought of the prize-speaking!” - -“Well, I’ve been thinking of it for some time. And I don’t propose to -let you ruin my chances.” - -Sam fell back a pace. There was an element of reason in the other’s -contention, which he could not ignore. - -“Well, if I let you off now----” he began. - -Orkney’s grin was sardonic. “‘Let me off’ is good, but we’ll also -let that pass. I’m busy this morning, as I’ve explained, but after -that--well, you can suit your own convenience in picking a time for -taking a good licking.” - -“This afternoon, then----” stormed Sam. - -“Oh, suit yourself!” said Orkney curtly, and marched off. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII NOT ON THE PROGRAM - - -Sam, following his enemy at a more moderate pace, was burdened by a -peculiar sense of helplessness. He was troubled by no doubts of the -justice of his cause; but he was annoyed and perplexed by the obstacles -Fate threw in his way. They were the harder to consider philosophically -because he was quite sure that he was obeying his new rule of Safety -First, and that Orkney’s guilt was clearly established. At the same -time he had to admit that Tom had offered valid grounds for delaying -combat. Altogether the case struck him as one of difficult application -of entirely sound principles. - -As he turned a corner, however, he forgot Orkney for a little; for -within a dozen yards of him he beheld two men in conversation. And one -of the men was Major Bates. The other was Peter Groche. - -Sam almost halted. He gazed in surprise at the two. The Major had -never appeared to be straighter, or fiercer, or more bristling; while -Groche’s slouch was never more pronounced. The ne’er-do-well was -listening sulkily to the Major’s very energetic remarks, occasionally -growling a brief reply to the veteran. - -As it chanced, Sam had not met the Major since the night he had made -confession. A glance was enough to show that he had nearly recovered -from the effects of his wounds; and the ear testified that the vigor of -his speech was in no wise abated. - -After a second’s hesitation Sam advanced. As he neared the men, Groche, -seeming, of a sudden, to catch sight of him, wheeled and shuffled off, -growling as he went. The Major swished his cane, as if he regretted -that it might not descend upon the retreating legs. Then he, too, saw -the boy, and the severity of his expression lessened a trifle. - -“Ah, young man!” he said. “Ah, good-morning!” - -“Good-morning, sir,” said Sam. - -The Major tapped the sidewalk smartly with his cane. “I’m out of -hospital. Am I to regard myself as in receipt of your felicitations?” - -“’Deed you are, sir!” Sam assured him with unfeigned warmth. - -The Major’s eyes twinkled. “Mutually satisfactory state of things, eh? -I’m pleased myself. Fact is, I’m so overflowing with good will this -morning that I’ve been trying to improve that vagabond.” - -“Yes, sir,” said Sam. - -“By Jove! but I fancy I made it clear even to his befuddled wits that -there is no profit in persistently remaining a social liability. I -warned him that if he didn’t mend his ways he’d end in state’s prison. -Big, hulking brute like that’s liable, some time, to commit a felony.” - -Sam glanced at the retreating Groche. The fellow _was_ big and hulking, -and brutish as well--an ugly customer, in short. - -“Has he been bothering you again, sir?” - -“No,” answered the Major. “I rather anticipated some of his -characteristic attentions, but he has quite neglected me. Not that I -complain--certainly not! Only I took occasion to point out to him the -exceeding unwisdom of again annoying me. Odd, too, how he took the -advice. Leered at me, and mumbled, but made no distinct threats. But -I must not detain you, young man. You, I infer, are on your way to -school?” - -“Yes, sir,” said Sam again. - -“Then proceed. A moment, though!” The Major’s bushy eyebrows met in -a frown, which wholly lacked ferocity. “Your holidays are at hand, I -believe. Some day, when you’re at leisure, I should be glad to show you -my modest collection of weapons of war and the chase. Ought to interest -you, as a budding sportsman with a promising record of large game!” - -The Major’s eyes were twinkling once more. Sam blushed hotly. - -“I’ll be very glad to come, sir,” he said. - -“Then I have the honor to wish you a very good morning,” quoth the -Major; and they parted in friendly fashion. - - * * * * * - -Both Major Bates and Peter Groche soon lost first place in Sam’s -consideration. The school session promptly put the Orkney affair to the -fore. - -The Lester prize for declamation was one of the great honors of the -course, and competition always was keen. The contest covered a full -term, two boys and two girls entering the lists each Monday. Usually -they were seniors, elocution being part of the required work of the -final year, but sometimes juniors volunteered, often with a notion of -“working off” the requirement ahead of time, but occasionally with a -hope of winning. - -There could be no doubt that Tom Orkney did his best to win. As it -happened, he was fortunate in his competitors. The other boy was a -senior, who took the platform simply because he had to take it, and who -raced through his selection with an eye single to ending the ordeal -in a minimum of time. Then two girls performed conscientiously but -ineffectively. And then came Orkney, junior and volunteer. - -Tom had chosen an ancient favorite “speaking piece,” so ancient, -indeed, that a giggle ran through the hall when the principal -announced, “The Parting of Marmion and Douglas.” But the merriment -quickly died, as the boy swung into Scott’s stirring verse. - -“Good work!” was the involuntary and whispered tribute of Step Jones, -who sat beside Sam. “Awfully good work, confound him!” - -Sam nodded. Orkney was revealing unexpected dramatic fire; and, -unpopular as he was with his audience, was capturing its admiration. -One might suspect that he had had professional coaching, but one could -not deny that it had been worth while. - -There was loud applause--not the customary ripple of hand-clapping but -a spontaneous and hearty demonstration--and Tom was smiling when he -made his bow to his schoolmates, and another bow to the principal, and -came down the steps from the stage. It was not a pleasing smile, for -there was in it more than a trace of supercilious triumph. - -“Hang the chump! Look at the smirk of him!” complained Step. - -Sam made no answer. Orkney was approaching, and for an instant the eyes -of the rivals met. Sam’s expression did not change, but the other’s -smile lost the little charm it had. Sam found it bitterly taunting; it -seemed to say to him, “This was what you schemed to prevent, eh? Well, -you didn’t do it, did you?” - -Step drove an elbow into his ribs. “You can’t spoil that mug by -pounding it! Say, though! When are you going to get at it?” - -“Soon as I can,” said Sam simply. - -“Date with him?” whispered Step eagerly. - -“Not exactly.” - -The classes were rising to march out of the hall, but Step found time -to make a suggestion. - -“Maybe you can catch him down at the pond this afternoon. They say the -ice is at last strong enough to hold.” - -“I’ll be there,” Sam promised. - -Mild as the season had been, the temperature had been falling steadily, -if slowly; and the skim of ice on the big mill-pond on the outskirts -of Plainville had thickened until it had been for some days in rather -perilous use by venturesome skaters. Now, however, Sam believed it -was reasonably safe; and when he descended the slope to the pond, its -surface was dotted with swiftly gliding figures. - -Directly in front of him a lively game of hockey was in progress. To -the right, and safely removed from the rushes of the players, were boys -and girls, skating singly, or in pairs, or in long lines, hand in -hand. To the left, near the dam, were a few youngsters. - -Sam shook his head as he observed them. The ice always was thinner -there than in other parts of the pond, and there was seldom a season -in which somebody did not regret rashness in straying too close to -air-holes. At a time like this there was more or less danger anywhere -in the neighborhood of the dam. - -“It ought to be roped off,” he told himself; but as there appeared to -be no means to carry out this precaution he sat down on the bank and -began to put on his skates. This he did leisurely, pausing now and -then to run his glance over the skaters. At a little distance up the -shore some of the larger boys were building a fire, and were having -trouble, their fuel consisting chiefly of long boards torn from an -abandoned ice-house. Here a little crowd clustered. Sam thought he had -a glimpse of Orkney, but was not certain. As he tightened his last -strap, however, and stood up, Step came along, arms and legs flying in -an effort to recover the partly lost art of the Dutch roll. At sight -of Sam the lanky youth went through some extraordinary contortions, -checked his speed, and glided alongside his friend. - -“Say! It’s all right--he’s here!” was his greeting. - -“Who’s here?” asked Sam, quite unnecessarily. - -“Humph! Who you s’pose? Deacon Pender?” - -“No,” said Sam coolly. “I don’t imagine you were thinking of the -deacon.” - -“You bet I wasn’t!” rapped Step. “I was thinking of Tom Orkney.” - -Sam peered at the crowd by the fire. “Queer I can’t make him out,” he -remarked. - -“He’s down at the lower end--along with those kids.” - -“Oh!” - -Step was grinning. “Oh, he tried to butt into the hockey game, but the -fellows gave him the cold shoulder. So he had to flock by himself till -he saw the young ’uns. He’s with ’em now, teasing and tormenting ’em, I -reckon.” - -Sam struck out with the experimental feeling of one on runners for the -first time in months; made a wide circle, and came back to Step. - -“Bit rusty, but I’ll get the swing all right in an hour or so,” he -reported. - -Step brought him back to the previous question, so to speak. - -“What do you want? Don’t mean to fight him on skates, do you?” - -“Certainly not,” said Sam testily. “What put such a notion in your -head?” - -“Well, what are you here for?” demanded Step pointedly. - -“Don’t expect to have a fight before all this crowd, do you?” - -“Seems to me you’re getting awful fussy.” - -“I am, if ‘fussy’ consists in objecting to scrapping with half the town -rubbering.” - -Step looked hurt. “Don’t you want anybody but yourself to have any fun?” - -“I don’t intend to entertain Plainville in a body.” - -Step’s expression was bewildered. “Say--say, you ain’t crawling, are -you?” he queried. - -The suspicion stung Sam’s pride. “Crawling? Not on your life! I’m -looking for Tom Orkney, and when I find him I’ll ask him to walk back -in the woods with me--he’ll know what for. And you can come along, and -one or two of the others, but----” - -The cloud vanished from Step’s brow. “Oh, that’s all right!” he said -heartily. “Can’t have a mob trailing along, of course. But I say! -There’s Orkney now--just shooting out from behind the point. He’s -chasing one of the kids.” - -Sam’s glance followed the direction of Step’s extended arm. - -“Yes, that’s Orkney, fast enough. But what’s he doing?” - -“Pestering the youngster!” snapped Step. “Can’t you see? And I declare, -if it isn’t Little Perrine he’s worrying!” - -Sam watched the swiftly moving figures, one short and slender, the -other tall and stout. Little Perrine, barely in the lead, seemed to be -hard pressed, for he dodged frequently without being able to throw off -his pursuer. - -Suddenly Step cried out sharply: “The miserable bully! Look, Sam! he’s -driving the kid right down to the dam, where the ice won’t hold him for -a minute!” - -“Confound it all!” fumed Sam. “Why won’t people think of Safety First? -Why won’t----” - -There he broke off, aghast at the catastrophe he beheld, but Step’s -voice rose shrilly: - -“Great Scott! it’s happened! They’re in--both in!” - -With appalling swiftness the ice had yielded beneath the weight of -the two, and Little Perrine, vanishing as if through a trap-door in a -stage, had been followed almost instantly by Orkney. - -Step started to the rescue, striking out wildly and shouting as he -raced down the pond at top speed. Sam, about to join in the dash, -checked himself. He knew well enough how the thin ice near the dam, -once broken, would crack and crumble under even slight pressure. -“Safety First!” was the thought which flashed upon his brain; safety -not so much for himself as for the pair struggling in the water. - -Other skaters were speeding after Step: but Sam, turning, hurried to -the heap of boards near the fire. He caught up the longest plank on -which he could lay hands, and skated down the pond with all the speed -his burden permitted. Before him other would-be rescuers, halted by -the widening circle of open water, were moving about aimlessly, if -pluckily, getting in one another’s way, and risking a general break-up -of the ice under their weight. One youth, indeed, had slipped over the -edge, but luckily had been dragged back, suffering no more serious -consequences than a drenching to the waist. - -Orkney was clutching desperately with one hand at the crumbling edge of -the ice. At first Sam saw nothing of Little Perrine, but as he dropped -his board and thrust its end over the water, he had a glimpse of the -boy’s head, pressed close to Orkney’s breast. So Tom, having caused the -disaster, was doing what he could to save an innocent victim! Such was -Sam’s belief, and the belief of Step and the rest. - -The long plank swung nearer and nearer to Orkney. He grasped it, drew -himself forward, threw an arm over it; his other arm was still about -Little Perrine. Sam, kneeling on the board with Step anchoring its end -to the thicker ice, got a firm grip on Orkney’s coat collar. Then came -the tug of war. It lasted for thrilling seconds, of which Sam was to -have only confused memories, in which were mingled the ominous cracking -of the ice, the shouting of the spectators, his own cries of warning -to the crowd to move back, Orkney’s struggles, the ghastly pallor of -Little Perrine’s face. Slowly, by inches, they gained. Then with a -report as sharp as that of a pistol a foot or two of the edge gave -way; Orkney dropped back till his shoulders were submerged; Sam’s arms -were plunged in water to the elbows. Then Tom made a mighty effort. -Sam exerted all his strength. What had been lost was recovered and -retained. Then there was another clear gain; and, in an instant more, -Orkney and Little Perrine had been dragged to safety. - -Tom was able to raise himself on an elbow, but Little Perrine lay -unconscious and motionless. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV SENT TO COVENTRY - - -It was a disagreeable morning, dully lowering and overcast, with now -and then a flurry of snowflakes bearing promise of a heavier fall to -come, but a crowd of boys and girls lingered in the school yard. - -There seemed to be a curious constraint upon everybody. There was -no shouting, no practical joking, no horse-play; but there was much -low-toned talk in the groups, in which the classes appeared to have -gathered unconsciously. Now and then, when late comers hove in sight, -there was a stir of expectancy, and necks were craned as eager glances -were directed toward the gate. Sam Parker, arriving with Poke Green, -was greeted by a murmur of applause; and, flushed with embarrassment, -made his way to a party of his chums, who chanced to be standing near -the steps leading to the big door. - -“Come on--let’s go in!” he said. “What’s everybody waiting for?” - -Step Jones laughed harshly. “Ho, ho! This is a reception committee, -Sam--reception committee and committee of the whole. It’s for T. -Orkney’s benefit.” - -“You’re making a mistake,” Sam protested. - -“Humph! I may be, but if I am, I’m not lonesome.” - -“That makes the thing all the worse.” - -“Can’t be much worse than it is.” - -Sam shook his head. “Oh, be fair!” he urged. “Remember, Orkney held on -to Little Perrine like a good fellow.” - -“Yes--after he’d driven him into the water!” growled Step. - -“But----” - -“But it was like locking the door after the horse was stolen,” Poke put -in. - -“Right you are!” contributed the Trojan. - -“Well, what’s the latest news?” asked Sam. “How is Perrine this -morning?” - -“Mighty badly off, I hear,” Step told him. - -“Delirious all night,” added the Trojan. - -Sam looked perturbed, and with reason. “Little” Perrine, as the boy was -known to his mates, was a delicate chap, clever at his books--he was a -high school freshman at ten--but weak physically and of an extremely -nervous temperament; just the sort of lad, in short, to suffer most -from such an experience as he had undergone in the icy water. Moreover, -he was the pet of the school, and any harm done him would be bitterly -resented by the pupils. Indeed, the case promised to go hard with the -unpopular Orkney, even if more encouraging tidings were received from -those caring for one regarded generally as the victim of his malicious -pursuit. - -The Shark came hurrying up the walk, carrying a great bundle of books. -He nodded at his clubmates, but did not halt. Poke chuckled softly as -he passed them. - -“There’s cold-blooded science for you!” said he. “Much the Shark cares -for a trifling matter of life or death when he’s got a real juicy lot -of equations on hand! Why, he put in all yesterday afternoon figuring -away with the principal, and now he’s going to have another crack at -him before the bell rings. I met him last night, and asked him what he -was up to, and what do you suppose he said?” - -“Give it up,” said the Trojan. - -“So do I,” quoth Step. - -“Trajectories!” cried Poke with all the scorn he could command. - -Step rubbed his chin. “Well, it takes all sorts of people to fill up -the world. But there are mighty few like the Shark, I’ll bet you!... -Hulloo, though! There’s Jennie Bruce. She lives next door to the -Perrines, and she can tell us the latest.” - -Others had the same thought, and crowded about the girl who had just -entered the yard. There was a moment’s waiting, and then an angry -murmur ran through the throng. - -“Whew! That means he’s worse!” Step inferred. - -Jennie Bruce broke through the press. She came straight to Sam. - -“You should have heard first of all,” she declared. “You pulled both of -them out, you know.” - -“I hope it isn’t bad news,” said Sam. - -“It’s bad enough. No; Little Perrine isn’t dead. He’s better this -morning, but the doctor says he may not be able to be out for a week. -But that isn’t it, at all!” - -“Isn’t what?” - -“What I’ve got to tell you, Sam Parker. It’s about last night--and -almost all through the night. Poor Little Perrine was out of his head, -raving. He seemed to be going over and over it, and then beginning -again and going all through it.” - -“That is, through the accident?” - -Jennie’s eyes flashed. “Accident! You know well enough it was something -else. Oh, well, perhaps it was partly accident, but it was something -else, too. Don’t stop me! I don’t call it all accident when the poor -little fellow was just driven out upon the thin ice! And while he was -delirious he kept crying out, ‘Don’t let him get me! Stop him! Don’t -let Tom Orkney get me!’ Why, we could hear him over at our house. It -was awful!” - -“Gee, but it must have been tough!” cried Step. - -“Tough!” For a moment Jennie regarded Master Jones half pityingly. -“Mercy! but you boys have weak ways of putting things! If you’d heard -him shrieking----” - -“Hold on!” the Trojan broke in excitedly. “Here comes Orkney!” - -There may have been method in the circumstance that Orkney was reaching -the school grounds but a few minutes before the opening hour. Perhaps -he had hoped that most of his mates would be within the building when -he arrived, but he did not falter when his glance fell upon the crowd. -Of its temper he could have had little doubt, though probably he had -not foreseen the hostility of the reception which awaited him. - -Three or four senior girls near the gate deliberately turned their -backs to him. As many senior boys looked him full in the face with no -sign of recognition. - -Orkney squared his shoulders, and raised his head. Looking straight -before him, he walked up the path. No one addressed him, and he spoke -to nobody till he came to Sam. - -“Parker!” Tom’s voice was low and not quite steady. - -“Well?” said Sam coldly. - -There was a little pause. Orkney was meeting Sam’s searching gaze -without flinching, but his sallow face had taken on a grayish pallor. - -“Parker, I’ve got something to say to you. And I want to say it now. -Yesterday you yanked me out of a bad fix. It was a great job you did. -I’d like to have you know I appreciate it, even if I don’t seem to be -able to say much more than ‘Thank you!’” - -“Oh, that’s all right!” said Sam, hastily and, it may be, gruffly. -“Don’t bother your head about it. Forget it!” - -“Can’t!” growled Orkney, gruff in his turn. “That brings me to -something else I’ve got to say and you’ve got to hear. That other -matter--you know?” - -Sam nodded. The “other matter,” of course, was the engagement to fight. - -“This--this is harder to--to get right.” Orkney plainly found -explanation difficult. “You put something up to me, and I said yes. I -meant yes; suited me. But you’ve complicated the situation. When you -pulled me out of the pond you tied my hands--don’t you see that?” - -“I didn’t mean to.” - -“You did, all the same. I won’t go into details, with all these -long-ears rubbering; but you don’t need details, anyway.” - -The youths referred to as “long-ears” had the grace to retire a pace -or two, but their liking for their critic was not heightened. - -“I get your drift--guess I do,” said Sam. “But here! You’re free to -forget yesterday’s business. Wish you would!” - -“Don’t think I wouldn’t--if I could!” There was an ugly gleam in -Orkney’s eyes. “That’s out of the question, though. So my hands are -tied, as I tell you.” - -“They needn’t be.” - -Orkney shook his head. “It’s all very well for you to take that -attitude, but I can’t. I’m in your debt--deep in it. So there are -things I can’t do that I’d mighty well like to do.” And again the ugly -gleam was in evidence. - -A wave of the old anger seemed to sweep over Sam. - -“Go ahead and try ’em, then!” he cried savagely. - -Two spots of red, of a sudden, burned in Orkney’s cheeks, but he kept -his self-control. - -“There’s no use talking--I can see that,” he said grimly; turned, and -marched alone up the steps to the great door. - -The decisions of youth are decisions of a drumhead court-martial, to -be carried out on the spot. - -The school had but one verdict to give in the case of Thomas Orkney. -As he disappeared in the corridor, there was a chorus of hisses and -groans. - - - - -CHAPTER XV THE CLUB ENDORSES ITSELF - - -The promise of the snow flurries had been borne out in full measure, -and now the country about Plainville was covered by a thick, white -mantle. Real winter had come at last, for after the storm there had -been a sharp drop in temperature, forecasting not only a “white -Christmas” but also holidays brisk and invigorating. And Friday night -had arrived, with its relief from school cares, and the Safety First -Club was in full session. All the members were in attendance, and all -were discussing the most sensational bit of news the town had enjoyed -since the mysterious wounding of Major Bates. - -Tom Orkney had run away! - -The fact was established beyond doubt or denial. The boy was gone, -nobody knew whither. There was, to be sure, a somewhat popular theory -that he had fled to a neighboring large city; but the theory was based -on conjecture, and wholly lacked convincing proof. - -For forty-eight hours Plainville had been talking about his -disappearance, but the topic had lost nothing of its interest. At the -club Poke held the floor, and submitted his philosophic view of the -case to his friends. - -“Orkney’s a stubborn brute, as you fellows very well know. When he -makes up his mind, it’s made up, and it stays made up. He’s bolted, and -he’ll take precious good care not to come back right away. Where do I -think he’s gone? I don’t know, but I’m sure he’s gone far enough. And -if you insist on having my personal opinion, I think it’s good riddance -of bad rubbish.” - -“Humph! Haven’t seen me shedding the sorrowful tear, have you?” -demanded Step. - -“I haven’t seen any tears,” said Poke. “Why, Orkney hasn’t a friend -left, after the way he treated Little Perrine! Don’t you remember how -everybody cut him that last day in school?” - -“Must have been pretty hard for him,” Sam observed thoughtfully. - -“I don’t believe a soul spoke to him,” Poke went on. “That is, none of -the fellows or the girls did. The teachers, of course, had to; but they -said just as little as they could. Why, he was called up but once, and -that was in the Greek class.” - -Step moved uneasily. “Say, though! That was a star translation Orkney -made! Jiminy! but he must have had an iron nerve to keep his wits about -him, with all hands doing their best to show how they despised him.” - -“Just what it was--case of nerve!” cried Poke. “Bet you I know just -how he felt. He was saying to himself, ‘I’ll show this gang that they -can’t rattle me; I’ll show ’em that I don’t give a whoop for their -opinion. Let ’em hiss me! I’ll go through this day and prove that they -can’t even rattle me.’ And that is just what he did. And when school -was dismissed, he walked out as coolly as if he didn’t understand that -nobody would travel with him for love or money. You know he’d been -building up a sort of crowd of his own? Well, every one of the bunch -quit him when the pinch came. But he kept a stiff upper lip right to -the end!” - -“He surely did,” admitted the Trojan, with a touch of reluctant -admiration. - -“But all through it he must have been planning what he’d do. My notion -is that when he went down the school steps he was saying to himself -that it was for the last time. He’d been scheming out what would come -next. In the afternoon he got together the few things he meant to take -along. He ate supper with his folks as usual. Then he slipped out of -the house. And that’s the last anybody in Plainville knows certainly -about Tom Orkney.” - -From his corner the Shark shot curt comment: “Big mistake he made! Case -of quitting!” - -“How do you figure that out?” asked Herman Boyd. - -“Ran away under fire, didn’t he?” - -“But he’d stood the fire all day.” - -“Umph! That wasn’t enough.” - -Poke waved a hand. “Listen, you fellows! I’ve been meditating on that -part of it. And I’ve doped it out this way: Orkney had pride enough to -carry him through one day--pride and nerve are the same thing with him, -I reckon. But when it came to facing other days, and other days, and -then some more--why, that’s where a chap would have to have the backing -of a clean conscience. And there were all the tricks he’d played on -Sam, and the chance he took of killing one of us with that big boulder, -and the dirty deal he gave Little Perrine--why, his conscience must be -as spotted--as spotted as an old blotter!” - -“So that’s your diagram?” - -“Well, as I say, that’s the way I see it.” - -The Shark’s lip curled. “Huh! Easy to see what you hope’s true!” - -“Well, what’s your mathematical calculation, old Dry-as-Dust?” - -“Oh, go on!” snapped the Shark. “You’re the lecturer.” - -Poke needed no urging. “Well, I tell you he’d made up his mind to -beat it, and he did. And he got away, all right. You know his aunt -telegraphed, and telephoned, and called in the police, and offered a -hundred-dollar reward; but there was no clue anywhere. Hard luck for -her that Tom’s father is out West! They say she’s almost crazy.” - -“And Tom’s mother is away, too,” said the Trojan. - -“Yes; she’s visiting down South. Those are things, though, we’ve -nothing to do with.” - -“That’s a queer way to put it,” grumbled the Shark. - -“Not at all,” Poke insisted. “You don’t get my point, which is that -we may not be responsible for those things, but we are responsible -for others. One of them is that we’re the fellows who got on to -Orkney’s meannesses, and that Sam here promised him a thrashing and a -showing-up. Then, somehow, I can’t help feeling that Sam, in fishing -Orkney and Little Perrine out of the pond, helped to bring things -to a head. But from the very first--from the time Orkney came to -Plainville--it has been our crowd that blocked him, that took the shine -off him. The Shark downed him in ‘math,’ and Step made a monkey of him -in Greek; but, most of all, we--this club--kept him from bossing the -class. And for that, I believe, we ought to be proud to be responsible.” - -“Some speech, Poke!” cried Herman Boyd. - -“Shouldn’t wonder if there were something in the idea,” contributed the -Trojan. - -“Thanks, kind friends!” chuckled Poke; but quickly grew serious again. -“In a nutshell, my notion is this: If Tom Orkney has been driven out of -town, we’ve driven him--and a good job, too, from first to last!” - -Two or three heads nodded vigorous assent; but there was a little -pause. Step broke it. - -“Sam, you’re keeping mighty quiet. What’s your opinion?” - -Sam hesitated. “My opinion? I--why, I don’t know that I’d go quite as -far as Poke goes, but----” - -“But I’m right, in the main,” Poke insisted. - -“Well, I guess we’ve been justified in everything we’ve done,” Sam told -him. “I know I’ve tried to be fair. And, certainly, there has been -evidence enough.” - -“You’re right there!” cried the Trojan. - -“Every time!” quoth Step. - -“I vote aye,” said Herman Boyd. - -“Well, everybody knows where I stand,” declared Poke. “We’re unanimous.” - -“Hold on a minute!” The Shark rose from his chair, and came forward. -“You fellows are talking about justification and evidence, eh? I -suppose you’re sure Tom Orkney threw the stone through that window, -for instance?” - -“If he didn’t, who did?” demanded Step hotly. - -“Answer my question first.” - -“Certainly we’re sure it was Orkney.” - -“I’m not, then,” said the Shark. “Fact is, I’m practically sure it -wasn’t he.” - -“Oh, come off your perch!” - -“I won’t. You can call it a perch if you wish; but I know what I’m -standing on, and that’s more than you can claim.” - -“Give the infant prodigy and foster-brother of the Binomial Theorem his -inning!” sang out Poke. “Go to it, old Four Eyes!” - -The Shark, in no wise disturbed by the raillery, produced and unfolded -a big sheet of paper, bearing a curious diagram and what appeared to be -an elaborate calculation. - -“The problem may be stated thus,” he began. “Given a weight of fifteen -pounds, seven and nine-tenths ounces, what is the force required to -propel it for a distance of thirty-five feet?” - -“Thirty-five feet? How do you get that?” queried Step. - -“The table stood eighteen feet from the window,” the Shark explained. -“The table-top, which the stone struck, was two and a half feet from -the floor. I estimate that the stone, if it had not struck the table, -would have traveled at least five feet farther. Then it was thrown from -a point at least twelve feet from the building--if you take the trouble -to inspect the ground you will see that the thrower must have been so -far from the wall to have secure footing. Now then, eighteen and five -and twelve make thirty-five.” - -“Go on!” urged Step. - -“We have the weight of the object moved, and the distance moved. To -aid us in plotting the curve of flight of the object, we have three -known points, or, rather, two known points and one which can be closely -approximated. We know the height from the floor at which the stone -broke the window-pane--seven feet, nine inches. The table-top, as I -have said, was thirty inches from the floor. The approximated point is -the distance from the ground (or, rather, from the level of the floor -projected for the calculation twelve feet beyond the window), at which -the stone began its journey. This distance was not less than five feet -nor more than six, allowing for a rise in the ground, and assuming that -propulsion began about on a level with the thrower’s shoulder. But -whether it was five or six----” - -“Hold on! Hold on!” cried Step. “You’ve got me going!” - -“Huh! Can’t be made clearer, can it?” expostulated the Shark. “But if -you’ll look at the diagram----” - -Step threw up his hands in burlesqued horror. “No, no! Take it away! I -can’t bear the sight of the thing out of school hours!” - -“Never mind about the pretty picture, Shark!” chimed in the Trojan. - -“No; if we follow the tune, it’ll have to be by ear,” chuckled Poke. - -The Shark shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I didn’t believe you fellows -had the sense to understand the process,” he said frankly. “Still, I -thought I’d give you a chance. But if I’ve got to jump to the result, -I’ll tell you that, having secured my data, I proved conclusively that -the stone was thrown by somebody with a lot more muscle than Tom -Orkney has. Why, the low trajectory----” - -Two or three of the boys were grinning. “There, there! Don’t call -names!” jeered Herman Boyd. - -The Shark’s glance went from one to another of his friends. - -“Oh, well,” he said resignedly, “I guess it’s useless. Only you may be -interested to know that the principal went over my work and verified -it.” - -“What! Didn’t tell him, did you?” - -“No; of course not. Had a supposititious case, naturally.” - -“Oh!” said two or three, in relieved chorus. - -The Shark put the paper back in his pocket. “All right,” he said. “You -haven’t disappointed me. I know your limitations.” - -But Poke was disposed to argument. “Look here, Shark! You’re banking -too much on your rules and formulas. Remember the professors who said a -curved ball couldn’t be pitched, and proved it--on paper?” - -“Different case--nothing to do with this one.” - -“But you overlook the evidence of the cap,” declared Step. - -“Bother the cap!” said the Shark, and snapped his fingers. “Doesn’t -interest me. It might have got there a dozen ways. What I’m trying to -tell you is something that’s absolutely established--mathematically -established. And you won’t listen!” - -“We might--if you’d just figure out who except Tom Orkney would have -done the job.” - -“Hang it, I’m no fortune-teller!” growled the Shark. - -Again Step appealed to Sam. “What’s your notion? Don’t you still think -the club is all right, and Orkney is all wrong?” - -“I think,” said Sam, honestly and with full conviction, “I think -the weight of the evidence is against him, in spite of the Shark’s -calculations. I’ve tried not to be hasty----” - -“That’s right--Safety First!” cried Poke. - -“And so the Safety First Club is all right!” chimed in Step jubilantly. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI SAM HAS A RUDE AWAKENING - - -“Wal, I dunno. Once there was an old feller that complained the eels -didn’t squirm’s lively as they uster when he was a boy; but, somehow, -I reckoned his memory was playin’ tricks with him. It’s the same way -with the weather. All the oldest inhabitants’ll keep on tellin’ you the -climate’s changin’, and losin’ its grip; but I guess, fust and last, -there ain’t much difference. Why, when I was a youngster, they had a -joke that this would be a rattlin’ good country if the sleighin’ didn’t -get sorter thin for three months in the year; but I don’t recall makin’ -snowballs on the Fourth of July. And, when you think it over, you’re -likely to be enjoyin’ just about as much concentrated winter this -minute as anybody ever really needed in these parts.” - -Thus Lon Gates rambled on for the entertainment of Sam Parker, bustling -about his work in the barn the while. It was a fine, clear morning, -the air still and crisp, and the snow glittering in the bright sunshine. - -“Maybe--but this is a bully day,” said Sam cheerfully. - -There was a twinkle in Lon’s eye. “Lot better’n that other Saturday, -when the hedgehog had all his spines on end, eh? Wal, the weather does -make a pile o’ difference in the human feelin’s. And, as I was sayin’, -we’ve got jest about enough winter to be real comfortable right this -minute--plenty of snow for haulin’, and cold enough to fill the bill. -Even zero when I got up this mornin’, and ’tain’t more’n ten above -now. And it looks ’sif there wouldn’t be a thaw for a good spell. And -that’ll help the lumbermen to get out their logs. Your father can tell -you what that means to the fellers in the woods.” - -“I’ve heard him talk about it,” said Sam. Mr. Parker was interested -in several tracts of woodland; and though his son never had visited a -lumber camp, he had some idea of the methods pursued. - -“Ought to get him to take you on one of his trips,” Lon observed. -“He’ll be makin’ one before long.” - -“Wish he would!” said Sam. - -Lon bustled into the harness-room. In a moment Sam heard a sharp -exclamation of surprise; and out popped Lon, carrying a heavy collar -with dangling traces. - -“Jest look at that!” he stormed. “Suff’rin’ snakes! but that’s the wust -yet! What skunk do you s’pose’d be mean enough to carve a brand new -harness that way?” - -The leather of the collar was deeply gashed in several places, and the -traces were almost severed. - -Sam made close examination of the cuts. - -“Well, Lon,” he said, “I can’t prove it, of course; but I believe that -job was done by the same person who left the water running, and let -Maggie’s clean clothes down into the mud, and has been raising all the -rest of the hob around here.” - -“Maybe. Same line o’ business. But who’d do it?” - -Sam hesitated. “I--I--well, I’ve had a suspicion all along, but lately -it has become practically a certainty.” - -“Speak up! This thing’s past endurin’. Who’s the party?” - -“Well, everything points to one person.” Sam was trying to show -judicial moderation. - -“Who’s he?” asked Lon impatiently. - -“Tom Orkney,” said Sam. - -“What! The kid that ran away?” - -“Yes.” - -Lon looked puzzled. “Sure, be you?” - -“Morally sure.” - -“Wal, I ain’t, then,” said Lon. “Why ain’t I? Orkney’s been gone -two-three days, hain’t he?” - -“He has.” - -“Then we’ve got to leave him out. This job was done last night.” - -It was Sam’s turn to betray bewilderment. “But--but we know he’d be -ready to do it, and there’s nobody else who would. And----” - -“No; you’re barkin’ up the wrong tree!” Lon declared. “I was lookin’ -over the harnesses yesterday, and there wa’n’t even a good-sized -scratch on this one. So ’twa’n’t Orkney, Sam--not unless he come back -to do this ’special.” - -“But he did the other things,” Sam insisted. - -“Swear to it, could you?” - -“Why--why, I could--almost.” - -“‘Almost’ don’t go--not in swearin’ folks are guilty.” - -“I know that. But we’ve had a lot of evidence----” - -“What kind o’ evidence?” - -Sam frowned. “Why--why, it has been circumstantial evidence, but there -has been a lot of it. And Orkney has had a chronic grouch all along. -And he has had it in for all my crowd. And, finally, he ran away. -That’s the same as confessing, isn’t it?” - -“Confessin’ what?” - -“Oh, everything,” said Sam vaguely. - -Lon took a moment for thought. - -“Sam, I can’t help thinkin’ there’s a mistake somewhere. Now, you mean -to be square and fair, and so do your chums, but you haven’t liked this -Orkney. I dunno’s there’s any reason why you should like him, but that -ain’t the question. I plumb despise a rattlesnake, but I’ve got no call -to insist he’s stealin’ my fire-wood. Follow the argyment, do you?” - -“Yes; but----” - -“Hold on! Wa’n’t there nothin’ nowhere along the line to make you -doubt if you were right?” - -“Nothing,” Sam insisted; then recalled the Shark’s contention, and made -amendment. “There was nothing, that is, except that Willy Reynolds -figured it out that Orkney couldn’t have thrown a stone that smashed a -window in our club-house. And the Shark--Willy, I mean--is a crank on -mathematics. And we found a cap of Orkney’s----” - -“One he’d been wearin’ that evenin’?” - -“Well, nobody saw him wearing it--nobody saw him, for that matter; for -he ducked and ran. And though a face showed outside of the window, the -fellow who noticed it didn’t recognize it. But the cap belonged to -Orkney.” - -Lon did not appear to be deeply impressed. - -“Thing like that depends on a lot of other things,” said he. - -“But Orkney didn’t try to deny anything.” - -“Oh, put it up to him, good and straight, did you?” - -“Why--why, in a way.” - -“Jesso! But you didn’t say, ‘Now, Orkney, what did you do this thing, -and that thing, and the other thing for?’” - -“Well, I hinted at things I was going to thrash him for, and----” - -Lon laughed. “Ho-ho! Now we’re gettin’ down to cases. You said, ‘I’m -goin’ to lick you,’ and he said, ‘Come on and try it.’ Sam, it’s been -a good while since I was a boy, but I guess that’s jest about what I’d -’a’ said to a feller of my own size that promised me a hidin’. And I -wouldn’t ’a’ asked a bill o’ particulars.” - -Sam took a turn the length of the barn floor and back. Lon certainly -was presenting a new aspect of the case, a disturbing aspect, -unsettling, destructive of comfortable confidence. - -“Look here, Lon! What makes you take sides against me?” the boy asked -querulously. - -“I don’t,” was the curt reply. - -“But----” - -“Wal, I’ll explain. First place, such didoes as somebody has been -cuttin’ up round here don’t quite fit in with what a feller like this -Orkney would be likely to do. Maybe he’s a surly customer, but, after -all, he’s had good bringin’ up. Second place, bein’ away from town, -he couldn’t have chopped up the harness last night. Third place, I’m -gettin’ kind of a hunch that I may be able to dig up a clue or two.” - -“Connecting somebody else with the case?” queried Sam incredulously. - -“Yep.” - -“But who----” - -“Don’t ask me that, Sam, till I’ve looked around a bit. If I’m -right--well, you’ll say it’s the queerest piece of business you ever -heard tell of.” - -“Oh, don’t stop there!” - -“Got to. It’s kinder shapin’ up promisin’, but I ain’t sure. And in a -matter like this it’s better to be safe than sorry.” - -There was a wry smile on Sam’s face. “Safety First!” he said in a tone -which made Lon gaze at him curiously. - -“Jest what do you mean?” he asked. - -But Sam turned away without answering. Indeed, to make full explanation -would have been difficult; for he could have said little more than that -he was experiencing a peculiar sensation, to be likened to that of one -rudely awakened from a complacent dream. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII MORE SURPRISES - - -Sam walked out of the barn without any clear notion of what he ought to -do; but when he reached the gate his step quickened. - -It was Saturday; the morning was his own. It had flashed upon him -that he could not do better than investigate the matters which had -first seemed to be so conclusive of Orkney’s guilt. Granting that Tom -probably had had nothing to do with the damage to the harness, he -would attempt to remove all doubt from the value of the best piece of -evidence for the prosecution, so to speak. This was the cap found by -Step near the club-house. - -When Master Jones had snatched the cap from Orkney’s head, and thrown -it over a fence, it had dropped upon the dead turf in old Mrs. -Benton’s yard. The club’s theory was that the owner had recovered it -subsequently and secretly. It remained for Sam to try to discover what -really had happened. - -Mrs. Benton, if advanced in years, was active and alert. She answered -her door-bell in person, and led Sam into her spotlessly neat -sitting-room. - -The boy plunged at once into his errand. Had she chanced to see a cap -lying on her lawn, and did she know what had become of it? - -Mrs. Benton nodded vivaciously. A cap--a boy’s cap? Of course, she -remembered. - -“When I looked out of my window that morning, there it was in plain -sight,” she said. “And I must say it looked awfully careless and -shiftless--I don’t know what strangers would have thought of the folks -living in this house. So I went right out and brought the cap in.” - -“And--and--and that was in the morning?” Sam faltered. - -“In the morning--early.” - -“Somebody came to claim it?” - -“Nobody came. I declare! I don’t see how young folks get so regardless -of things these days! And that was a perfectly good cap--that is, it -would have been perfectly good if it hadn’t been left out in the damp -all night.” - -“Is it still here, ma’am?” - -“Bless you, no, child! It’s gone.” - -Sam leaned forward in his eagerness. “Gone where, ma’am?” - -“Into the rubbish can, of course.” - -“Oh!” said Sam, and sank back in his chair. - -Mrs. Benton’s eyebrows rose a trifle. “Bless me, but you wouldn’t -expect me to keep my house cluttered up with all sorts of other -people’s odds and ends, would you?” - -“No, ma’am,” Sam hastened to assure her. “But--but did it stay in the -can?” - -Mrs. Benton met question with question. “Why? Was it yours?” - -“Oh, no,” said Sam. “It wasn’t mine, but I--I--well, I was sort -of--sort of interested in it. Do you know what became of it?” - -“That’s just what I don’t know.” - -“Oh!” said Sam again. - -The lady did not miss the disappointment in his tone. - -“Somebody took it out of the can,” she explained. “It wasn’t the -garbage collector, for that wasn’t his day to come ’round. But I -remember that I disposed of the cap after breakfast, and that, when -I carried out some potato peelings an hour or two later, the cap had -disappeared. There often are people prowling through the alley, you -know--tramps, some of ’em--and it was a pretty good cap, after all, if -a body wasn’t over-particular. And you say it wasn’t yours?” - -“No, ma’am,” said Sam, and rose a bit hastily. “But I’m very much -obliged for the information.” - -Mrs. Benton followed him to the door. “You’re thanking me for very -little,” she remarked. “But if it’ll be any help to you, in whatever -you are after, I can add that the cap was taken out of the can -somewhere between nine and ten o’clock that morning.” - -And in the hour mentioned, as Sam was quite aware, Tom Orkney was fully -accounted for, having been in his place in school! - -Sam’s step was slow as he moved away from the house, and his brow was -furrowed. Undeniably the case against Orkney was weakening. Equally the -case for the Safety First Club was tottering. - -There came to Sam unhappy recollections of talk about the chain of -proofs and its various links, among them the cruelty to Little -Perrine. Well, there was nothing for it but to go on with the inquiry -he had begun. - -Little Perrine, he was told, was very much better, and would be glad to -see him. The convalescent was sitting up in bed, and was in excellent -spirits. - -“Hullo, Sam!” he called out gaily. “Gee, but it’s good of you to look -me up! Sit down, and tell me all about how you pulled Tom Orkney and me -out of the pond. The folks won’t tell me half enough.” - -Sam drew a chair close to the bed. - -“Oh, it isn’t much of a yarn,” he said modestly. “I happened to have a -plank, so it was no trick at all.” - -Little Perrine smiled. “That’s what you say! Doesn’t match the stories -other people tell--and I guess they’re nearer the real truth. Everybody -declares you did a star job. Funny, isn’t it, that I don’t remember -anything about your part of it? One instant Tom Orkney was grabbing for -me, and trying to drag me back, and the next--crash! There I was in -the water, and Tom had jumped in after me, and was holding me up. Then -everything was blurred, and there was a queer singing in my ears--and -the next I knew, here I was, in bed. And then things got to whirling -round, and I was going through it all again and again. Jiminy! but I -bet I yelled like a good fellow!” - -“Pretty close call for a kid like you,” said Sam. - -“Poof! I’m tough!” insisted the boy. “I’d have been all right--crawled -out myself, I would, if it hadn’t been for that sleepy feeling that -came over me. But it was all right, anyway. There was old Orkney to -hold my head out of water, and you were coming on the run. But, as it -is, Orkney’ll have a good laugh on me, I tell you.” - -Sam grasped the fact that Perrine had not been informed of Tom’s -disappearance. - -“Oh, so he--he’ll have the laugh on you?” he asked uncertainly. - -“Sure! You see, he’d been telling me to keep away from the thin places. -When he came along I was doing stunts--seeing how close to a blow-hole -I could skate, you know; and he made a fuss about it. Why, he grabbed -me, and lugged me back to shore, and tried to make me promise to quit -the funny business. But I got away from him, and beat it for the dam. I -didn’t think he’d dare chase me, he weighs so much more than I do. But -he pelted after me, and he’d have got me if I hadn’t kept dodging. And -then--well, then the thing happened. But old Orkney was a brick, wasn’t -he?” - -Sam strove to make fitting reply, but achieved only a choking sound. - -“Why, what’s the matter?” demanded Little Perrine. “And what makes you -look so queer?” - -Sam wiped his forehead with his handkerchief; he had a sense of -fighting for time. - -“Oh, looking--looking queer, was I?” - -Little Perrine grinned. “Say! It was as if I’d hit you between the eyes -and dazed you.” - -Sam laughed, but it was a forced laugh and unconvincing. - -“I guess this room’s pretty warm,” said he, and got upon his feet. -“I’ll have to be going. You’ll be out, I suppose, in a day or two?” - -“Yes. But if you meet Orkney, tell him to come to see me. You wouldn’t -mind taking the message, would you? Of course, I know he hasn’t been -pals with your crowd, but after all that’s happened----” - -“If I should see Tom Orkney I’d be only too glad to deliver your -message,” said Sam heavily. - -Another link in that famous chain had been fractured. By the testimony -of the best possible witness Orkney had not imperiled Little Perrine’s -life by driving him upon the thin ice; but, on the contrary, had risked -his own to protect the younger and frailer boy. - -With dragging step Sam went back to Lon Gates. - -“I might as well speak plainly, Lon,” he said. “I’m all unsettled in my -ideas.” - -Lon regarded him keenly. “So? Ain’t that Orkney the all-round cut-up -you thought he was?” - -“I--I guess I’ll have to take back some of the things I said.” - -“So?” Lon repeated. - -“Yes--so!” said Sam with more spirit. “And since it’s so, and since -somebody must have made all the mischief, and since it isn’t likely -Orkney was the guilty one--why, Lon, I’d amazingly like to know whom -you suspect.” - -The hired man rubbed his chin. “Wal, I dunno. As things was, I didn’t -intend to say nothin’ more till I was surer of my ground. But, seein’ -how you’ve kinder cooled down and come to be ready to accept the light -o’ reason, maybe I might’s well breathe a whisper or two of what the -little birds may, or may not, have been tellin’ me.” - -“This has been a day of surprises,” said Sam, “but I’m ready for some -more. Fire ahead!” - -Lon came a step nearer. They were alone in the barn, but he dropped his -voice almost to a whisper. - -“Wal, then, I will. Remember that day you went out and potted Major -Bates?” he began. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII LON DISCUSSES CROOKED THINKING - - -Perhaps you have had the trying and distressing experience of -discovering, of a sudden and without warning, that what you devoutly -had hoped was a closely guarded secret appeared to be no secret at -all. If you have suffered such a shock, you will understand Sam’s -sensations. The unfortunate affair of Marlow woods was by no means -ancient history, but gossip about it had dwindled, and he had come to -believe that the town had set it down as one of those mysteries which -never are solved. Yet here was Lon, referring to it as nonchalantly as -if it were matter of common knowledge! - -For a moment Sam stared, wide eyed and open mouthed, at his ally. -Mentally and physically he was overcome. Speech failed him, and he sank -weakly upon a feed-box, beside which he had been standing. - -There was a touch of sympathy in Lon’s manner. “Sorry if I’ve rubbed -your fur the wrong way, Sam. Course, though, when you asked me----” - -Sam found tongue. “How did you know? Who told you?” - -“Lot o’ folks.” - -“A lot!” gasped Sam. - -“Yep; a lot. Bill Marlow, and your father, and Maggie, and the Major, -and you----” - -“Me!” In his amazement Sam was careless of grammar. “Me? Why, I never -breathed a syllable!” - -Lon grinned. “Wal, you wa’n’t exactly chatty; that’s a fact. But I -guess ’twas the things you didn’t say that told me most. Same way with -your father. Didn’t know, did you, that I saw him one mornin’ swabbin’ -out that gun of his? And he hadn’t been huntin’, and he wasn’t goin’ -huntin’. Then there was Maggie. One day we was discussin’ your life -and public services, and I sorter gloomed about you, and she flew at -me like a hen protectin’ her last chick from a hawk; and then I knew -well enough you’d been in some particular big scrape, and she knew, or -guessed, more or less what ’twas. Then there was the Major----” - -“The Major!” - -“Sure! ’Nother case of what you might call eloquent silence. When he -turned Peter Groche loose, what more did he do? Nothin’! What more did -he say? Nothin’! And the Major ain’t the party to let somebody put a -few buckshot into him and grin and bear it uncomplainin’. He’d ’a’ -railroaded Peter Groche to jail with all the pleasure in life, and he’d -’a’ done the same thing to any other man that played he was an old -buck. But the Major’s a good sport, after all; he hates to fuss with -anybody that ain’t his size. See where the argyment’s leadin’, don’t -you? So, when you ’fessed up----” - -“When I ’fessed up!” Sam seemed to be capable of nothing but -repetitions. - -Lon chuckled a bit complacently. “Wal, Sam, that’s where I’m on dead -reckonin’. But when I’d chewed it all over a few times, it struck me -that you was jest the kind of a feller to own up when you saw somebody -else was in trouble for what you’d done; and that the Major was jest -the old hardshell to be tickled by your givin’ a square deal to that -miserable critter, Groche. Course, I’ve kept my eyes and ears open, -and I’ve been down town nights, and I’ve talked with folks, and I’ve -picked up little things here and there that fitted together. And so I -got four, not by puttin’ two with two, but by addin’ an eighth, and -three-sixteenths, and a half, and three-quarters, and so on and so on. -And--wal, that’s about all of that chapter.” - -“Lon, you’re a wonder!” - -“Pretty nigh right, wa’n’t I?” - -“Nearer than that.” - -“Wal, you see, I knew one Sam Parker like a book. And when something -happened one mornin’, and he dodged talkin’ about where he was jest -then or what he was doin’--wal, I had a mighty good start on Shylock -Holmesin’.” - -“Sherlock Holmesing,” Sam corrected mechanically. - -“Same family, anyhow.” - -There was a pause. Then said Sam: - -“Lon, I didn’t wish to keep the truth from you especially. If I’d -talked about the affair, there’s nobody who’d have heard more about it -than you would. But I was advised not to confide in anybody.” - -Lon nodded. “Right enough! And I wouldn’t have yipped if, somehow, -things hadn’t worked around as they have. And I jest had to let the cat -out o’ the bag if I was goin’ to point out the dog I believe has been -snappin’ at us. You want to find out who ’tis I suspect, don’t you?” - -“Most certainly!” - -“Peter Groche!” said Lon emphatically. - -“Peter--Peter Groche?” Astonishment again possessed Sam. “Why--why -should he have a grudge against me? Didn’t I save him? Didn’t I keep -him out of jail? Didn’t they have what seemed to be a complete case -against him?” - -“Like enough.” - -“Then, too,” urged Sam, “he could have had no notion that I was mixed -up in the case. The Major didn’t tell him; nobody else told him. But -if he had known, he ought to have been grateful. Either way the thing -isn’t reasonable.” - -“Huh! Peter ain’t, neither!” grunted Lon. - -“But what’s that got to do with----” - -[Illustration: “HOLD HARD, THERE!”] - -Lon loved an argument. “Hold hard, there!” said he. “To get at things -you’ve got to start right. And it ain’t startin’ right to talk about -Peter Groche and reasonable things in the same breath. Look here, now!” -Lon picked up an empty liniment bottle, and stood it on its neck; -whereupon the bottle fell over on its side. “See what’s happened, don’t -you?” - -“But it was upside down.” - -“Exactly! But that’s the way with Peter Groche--with his brains, I -mean. Your mistake is tryin’ to figure on him as a reasonable bein’. -But Groche, for years and years, has been like that bottle--all upside -down. He’s been carousin’, and loafin’, and stealin’. All his thinkin’ -has got warped, and twisted, and crooked.” - -“Then he’s crazy!” - -“Not quite that. But he ain’t what folks call normal. Oh, I know the -breed!” - -Sam racked his memory. “You mean he’s a--a degenerate?” he queried. - -“That’s the ticket! He’s like pizen ivy: he began by bein’ no good, and -he’s got wuss and more of a nuisance the more he spreads out.” - -Sam shook his head doubtfully. “All the same, I don’t follow your -argument, Lon. If there’s anything to it, we’d have to figure that -Peter had some cause to suppose I was in the scrape; for we might as -well drop the notion that, all of a sudden, he’d begin to persecute me, -unless he had some tip. But I’ve told you I’m sure nobody gave him one. -And as I didn’t see him in the woods, he wouldn’t have seen me there.” - -“You can’t prove that,” Lon declared. “He’s an old hand at deer -huntin’, out o’ season as well as in; and he keeps his eyes peeled -mighty sharp. It’s ten to one he had a peek at you, and knew within -five rods where you were, when the Major was hit. So it was an easy -guess for him, when he was arrested, that you’d figgered in the -combination.” - -“But----” Sam began. - -Lon interrupted him. “You listen, son! I’ll bet you he not only saw -you, but believed you saw him. And he was keepin’ tabs on you and on -the Major, too--’tain’t a bad idea, at that, for anybody in the woods -in the deer season to watch his neighbors and what they’re about. Wal, -then, we have Peter, as keen as a weasel, and full as vicious--we have -him, I say, with his eyes and ears busy. Bang! goes your gun. Peter -hears it. He waits for what’ll happen--always a chance that if you’ve -really sighted a buck, the critter may come his way. Wal, again, in a -minute or two, something does come, but it ain’t nothin’ on four legs. -It’s the Major, and the Major’s fightin’ mad. Somebody’s winged him, -and he thinks it’s Peter; but Peter don’t need no map to show where you -come in.” - -“But I----” - -“Let me finish! Peter, bein’ Peter, acts accordin’. He jumps to a -conclusion--and that’s that you’ve done what he’d do himself, if he was -in your shoes. He figgers you’ve blazed away, and run up to find a dead -deer, and come on the Major, dazed and ragin’, and grabbed the chance -to put the blame off on somebody else. He credits you with knowin’ the -reputation of the Groche fam’ly hereabouts, and with settin’ the Major -on a false trail that leads straight to one Peter o’ that name. Then, -havin’ set the Major goin’, you vamoose--and that’s what Peter Groche -would ’a’ done himself, if he’d been in your fix. What say to that, -Sam?” - -“I--I don’t know what to say. Only, when the sheriff arrested him, why -didn’t he deny----” - -Once more Lon stopped the boy in mid-sentence. “There you go -again--forgettin’ Peter ain’t like most folks! It’s where the crooked -thinkin’--and the crooked livin’--comes in. The Major’s in a passion, -and Peter has jawed back till he’s ’bout as mad himself. Most likely -the sheriff can’t make head nor tail o’ what he’s growlin’. And Peter’s -got his reputation, and everybody knows he’s made threats against the -Major, and one barrel of his gun has been fired. So the sheriff thinks -it’s a pretty clear case, and loads Peter in his wagon, and hauls him -to the lock-up. By that time Peter, mebbe, has been workin’ his crooked -wits. He sees well enough nobody’d believe him just then if he said he -didn’t do it, so he doesn’t waste his breath that way. And mebbe, too, -he gets a notion the case against him won’t be so all-fired convincin’ -when it comes to a trial, the evidence bein’ circumstantial, you see. -Perhaps he’s schemin’ for damages for false arrest--and then, all of -a sudden, they turn him loose. And so he skulks off, with a grudge -against everybody, but a particular one against Sam Parker, Esq., who, -he believes, lied about him to save himself. Sense, ain’t it--Peter’s -kind o’ sense, that is?” - -Sam pondered. “Why--why--perhaps.” - -Lon wagged his head sagely. “Wal, I’m tellin’ you, Sam, a grudge is -jest the one thing in this life Peter’ll live up to. He means to take -it out o’ your hide. Now, when things went wrong about the place, and -kept on goin’ wrong, and I saw they weren’t due to your footlessness, I -had half a notion some kid might be at the bottom of the trouble. But -then I began to miss things from the barn--a spare bit, then a wrench, -then a new sponge; and I’ll admit that did sort o’ suggest Groche’s -manners. And weren’t you tellin’ me a while ago that one of your crowd -figgered it out that no boy could have chucked that boulder through -your club-house window? Wal, Groche could ’a’ done it. He’s as strong -as an ox, confound him! Come now! Piece it all together, and own up it -makes quite a case!” - -“Perhaps it does,” Sam admitted. - -“But I don’t convince you completely?” - -Sam hesitated. “Why--why, I don’t know, Lon. I’ve had a lot of jolts -to-day, and I’ve got to do some thinking before I can be sure of -anybody.... Or of anything!” he added, after an instant’s pause. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX OF DUELS AND CONSCIENCE - - -The club received such report as Sam felt free to make of his -investigation with interest rather than with regret for its share in -the misfortunes of Tom Orkney. - -If Sam had told the whole story, including the affair in Marlow woods -and Lon’s suspicions of Peter Groche, the crowd, doubtless, would -have buzzed with excitement, and, incidentally, felt some sympathy -for Orkney; but, given merely new light on the matter of the cap and -a revised version of the incident at the pond, the boys, as a rule, -fell back upon the declaration that Tom was a “grouch,” anyway, and -declined to take to themselves any especial culpability. Somebody had -committed the depredations at the Parker place; somebody had smashed -the club-house window. Maybe Orkney hadn’t done these things, but -wasn’t he a chronic sorehead? Of course, it was hard luck for him to -be deemed Little Perrine’s persecutor instead of protector, but the -misunderstanding was general and not the particular error of the Safety -First Club. - -Even the Shark, who might have spoken from the text of “I told you -so,” let the opportunity pass. His calculations of the flight of the -boulder had started him upon an agreeable inquiry into the subject of -projectiles, and, as Poke declared, he was as far in the clouds as if -he had been sent there by one of the big mortars about which he was -reading. - -In the club’s opinion that there was nothing to be done, Sam was in a -way to coincide, though he would have phrased it that nothing could be -done at present. Yet something should be done. This was clear in his -mind, though he seemed to be unable to hit upon a practical suggestion. - -No news came of the missing Orkney. - -Lon Gates, playing detective at every opportunity, confessed that he -found nothing either to shake or to confirm his theory of the guilt of -Peter Groche. The man, after hanging about town as usual, had dropped -out of sight, leaving no word of the destination for which he was -bound. - -Then came Christmas and a fortnight’s vacation, and Sam shared -cheerfully in the festivities of the season. He was in excellent -health; he liked fun; he indulged vigorously in winter sports; his -appetite remained admirable. But, for all that, there was a change -in the boy, quite unobserved by his father, who was held by business -cares; vaguely felt by his friends, and distinctly marked by his -mother. Mrs. Parker took occasion to have several long talks with -her son. She was sure that he had something on his mind, but all her -tact did not lead him to confidences. Sam understood her solicitude, -and was grateful, if reticent. A fellow who was trying to prove his -self-reliance, he reasoned, must work out his problems for himself. -Not that he would have declined counsel from older heads--probably he -would have welcomed a chance to accept his father’s advice, the affair -appearing to him to be peculiarly one for masculine consideration; but -he would not seek it. - -Mr. Parker, as has been related, was very busy. For one thing, he was -arranging a trip into the woods with a capitalist from New York, and -plans for the expedition took up much of his time. For another, his -method of dealing with Sam on probation was to interfere as little as -possible with the boy’s affairs. Sam’s school reports were good; he -seemed to be avoiding scrapes; he had distinguished himself in the -rescue of Tom Orkney and Little Perrine. On the whole, the father was -well pleased with the situation as he observed it. - -Sam himself was not pleased. It is not good to have a sense of -uncertainty, and of baffled intentions to do right. On the one hand was -his remembrance of his precautions in trying to follow out his motto of -“Safety First”; on the other, an uneasy conviction that Tom Orkney had -suffered unjustly. Sometimes one seemed to outweigh the other; again he -vacillated miserably between the two opinions. And one day, not long -after Christmas, when his doubts were assailing him sorely, he recalled -the Major’s invitation, and sought diversion in a visit to the veteran. - -The Major received him with marked favor, cracked a joke or two -about his big game record, and began to make the round of what was -really a fine collection of arms. There were flint-lock muskets and -fowling-pieces; muzzle-loading and breech-loading rifles; cutlasses, -sabers and bayonets; huge, old-fashioned horse pistols, revolvers and -even a modern, compact, automatic weapon. Of these the Major spoke -briefly; but he lingered longer over a case in which lay a brace of -pistols, very old in pattern, but of exquisite workmanship. - -“I wonder, Sam,” he said, “if you ever have seen such fellows as these? -What do you think they are?” - -“I’m sure I don’t know, sir,” Sam answered. - -“Well, what do you imagine they were used for?” - -“I haven’t a notion.” - -The Major wagged his head. “My boy, it’s a testimonial to the progress -of the world that you haven’t a notion. Time was, I’m sorry to say, -when a fine, upstanding lad like you would have known only too well -what these were and how they were used. These are dueling pistols, sir!” - -“Oh!” cried Sam, and bent over the case with increased interest. -“And--and were they ever--ever----” - -“They were,” said the Major drily. “Oh, yes--more than once. Genuine -article, I do assure you! But that sort of thing is over and done with, -fortunately.” - -Sam straightened his back. “I’ve read about duels, of course. And some -of the books speak as if there must have been lots of them.” - -“Too many!” snorted the Major. “That’s perfectly true, sir. Principle -was all wrong, but it took centuries to make the discovery. Honest men, -honorable men mistakenly believed that the way to do justice and to -accept justice was by killing each other or standing up to be killed. -All wrong; all wrong, sir! The law is the law, and to it we must look -for redress for injuries.” - -“Yes, sir,” said Sam, a deal impressed by this testimony from -one commonly reputed to be a stubborn and unyielding antagonist. -“Only--only”--a curious thought had thrust itself upon him--“only, can -you always be sure of what the law is? I mean, that is, can you always -be sure of what you ought to do?” - -“Eh?” The bushy eyebrows came together as if the Major were perplexed -by the question. - -“Can you always find a law--or a rule--that applies?” - -“Well, a law is general in its terms, of course. And you’ve some -special instance in mind, haven’t you?” - -Sam hesitated. “I--I--well, I’m thinking of a case in which a fellow -acted on what he thought was full justification, and found, afterward, -that--well, that there had been a lot of mistakes.” - -“Honest mistakes?” - -“Yes, sir. Only----” - -“Pardon me!” the Major interrupted. “Let me cite a case. Once a friend -of mine, who had to carry a great deal of money, was set upon by masked -and armed men. In what he fully believed was self-defense he shot and -killed one of them. It proved that the attack was the work of rash -practical jokers. My friend was acquitted, justly. Now, was his case -like that which you are considering?” - -Again Sam hesitated. “Yes--and no, sir. My case isn’t quite so clear.” - -“Little prejudice to begin with--biased judgment?” queried the Major -keenly. - -“That’s the trouble, sir,” said Sam frankly. “The evidence looked all -right, but how can I be certain that it ought to have seemed so?” - -“Difficult!” said the Major tersely. - -“Well, sir, what would you do if you were in my--if you were in the -fix?” - -The Major put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “My boy,” he said very -gravely, “you’re dealing with a problem which neither I nor anybody -else can solve for you. It is a problem to be settled by law, but -the law is that of your own conscience. Now, I submit, the court of -conscience is supplemental to the courts of the land, but it is severer -in its judgments. The other courts may give you the benefit of a doubt, -but hardly the court of conscience. And if there were prejudice----” -There he checked himself. “No; I’ll say no more; for I’ve no right to -seek to influence you unduly. You must reach your own decision for -yourself.” - -“I understand, sir,” said Sam, with a gravity matching the Major’s. - -The pressure on his shoulder increased. “If I’m a judge of human -nature, young man,” the Major declared, “you _will_ settle this thing -for yourself, and you’ll settle it right!” - - - - -CHAPTER XX SAM MAKES A SPEECH - - -It was late in the afternoon of Sam’s visit to the Major, and the club -members were gathered in their house. - -Sam, silent and preoccupied, was sitting in one corner. The Shark, -in another, was somewhat skeptically regarding Step Jones, who was -describing, for the benefit of the assembled company, a number of big -fish that day caught through the ice of the mill-pond. Step’s arms were -long, and his imagination was active. - -“Gee, but those pickerel were regular old granddaddies!” he averred. -“Smallest was this long.” He spread his hands. “Then came two or three -about this size.” Another illustration. “Then there was the biggest.” -And Step’s hands were moved farther apart. - -“Aw, come off!” jeered the Trojan. “You’re thinking of ’em all, put end -to end.” - -“I’m not,” Step insisted. “What’ll you bet ’twasn’t this long?” - -“Huh! You’re dreaming!” - -“Dreaming nothing! Didn’t I see the fish?” - -“You didn’t see any five-foot pickerel.” - -“Tell you I saw one the length I’m showing you.” - -Up sprang the Shark, and strode across the room, pulling a tape-measure -from his pocket as he advanced. A good deal to Step’s embarrassment, -he insisted upon making careful measure of the distance between the -outstretched palms. - -“Four feet, three and seven-eighths inches,” he announced. “Umph! Some -fish, Step; yes, some fish!” - -Step lost no time in lowering his arms. “Well, you fellows can josh if -you want to; but you can’t prove I’m wrong.” - -There was a shout of derision. - -“No, sir--I won’t take off an inch!” declared Step. - -The Shark grinned. “All right, Step. Only that couldn’t have been a -pickerel; it must have been a muskellunge.” - -“’Longe in the mill-pond! Sure thing!” snickered Poke. - -“No, no,” Herman Boyd put in. “Step’s mixed--that’s all. He’s thinking -of what Sam caught--Little Perrine and Tom Orkney.” - -Over in his corner Sam roused at the name. “Who’s talking about -Orkney?” he called out. - -“I am,” said Herman. - -“Any news of him?” - -“No, thank fortune!” Herman was not an especially vindictive fellow; -but he had disliked Tom exceedingly. - -Sam rose, and came over to the group about Step. - -“Listen, you chaps; I’ve something to say about Orkney,” he began. - -“Speech, speech!” shouted Poke. - -“Very well; I’ll make a speech,” said Sam. “You may not agree with me, -but I’m going to give you the truth as I see it. We’re wrong in this -Orkney business; we’ve been wrong all along.” - -There was a ripple of dissent. - -“Oh, I say, Sam!” protested Poke. “That’s going too far.” - -“Not at all,” Sam insisted. “We were wrong in charging Orkney with a -lot of things he never did.” - -“I know--you’ve harped on that before.” - -“Well, I’ll harp on it again.” - -“But we thought he did ’em. He was mean enough to do ’em, if they’d -occurred to him.” - -“Go to it, Poke!” cried Step. “Now you’re shouting!” - -Sam frowned. “Here!” he said impatiently. “Do I get my chance to talk, -or don’t I?” - -Poke made a burlesque bow. “Sir, I yield the floor,” said he. - -“I say we made a mistake, and I mean it,” Sam went on. “Not liking -Orkney, we forgot the old rule that you’ve got to hold anybody innocent -of a charge till he’s proved guilty. Don’t stop me! You’ll try to argue -that we had evidence against him, but, as we know now, it wasn’t proof, -by a long shot. There was that business of the cap. Did we investigate -it? We didn’t. If any one of us had taken the trouble to ask Mrs. -Benton about it at the time, there’d be another story to tell. Then -every one of us jumped to the conclusion that Orkney came near drowning -Little Perrine. Evidence? We hadn’t a bit.” - -“But people said----” Poke began. - -“Confound what people said! They knew no more than we did. They -were jumping to conclusions, too. But we were saying things on our -own account. Right here, in this room, Poke told us that we were -responsible for blocking Orkney’s ambitions from the first, for taking -the shine off him; that the Shark eclipsed him in mathematics and Step -skimmed the cream from the Greek; that the crowd of us kept him from -bossing the class. And all of us chimed in, and said it was so, and -patted our own backs, and----” - -“Hold on, Sam!” the Shark broke in. “How’d we do that? We’re not -contortionists.” - -“Hang it all! Don’t interrupt! You know what I mean.” - -“I don’t know; I infer,” corrected the Shark. “Be accurate, be -accurate!” - -Sam’s temper flared. “What’s the matter, anyway? Don’t you want to hear -me?” - -“I do,” said the Shark calmly. “You’re talking sense. Therefore use -sensible language.” - -“I’ll do the best I can,” Sam promised, “but listen to me, anyway. -What I’m getting at is that, as Poke had it, if Orkney was driven out -of town, we had a lot to do with the driving. We called it a good job, -but was it? It was _not_! We didn’t play fair; we didn’t give him a -square deal. He was entitled to the benefit of the doubt, and we always -counted the doubt against him. I know, I know what you’re thinking--he -_was_ a cub, and a chronic grouch, and a trouble maker; but the ugly -fact remains that we accused him of a lot of things he didn’t do, and -had no intention of doing. And I say, in such a case, it’s up to us to -see that, at last, he gets a square deal. I don’t say it so much for -his sake as for our own.” - -“Umph! Matter of self-respect?” queried the Shark. - -“Just that!” said Sam emphatically. - -For a moment there was silence. - -“But, Sam!” ventured Herman Boyd. “Aren’t you piling it on this crowd? -Suppose Orkney was--er--er--os--os--what’s that word I want?” - -“Ostracized?” suggested Step. - -“That’s it--ostracized. Well, suppose that was what happened to Orkney. -We didn’t do it--all. The whole school had a hand.” - -“That doesn’t relieve us of responsibility for our part.” - -“You’re right, Sam,” said Poke very soberly; for like the others he -felt the influence of Sam’s earnestness. “You’re right. We’ve got some -responsibility. We were boasting of it the other day, and we can’t -crawfish and shirk it now. But what’s the practical thing? What can we -do about it?” - -“That’s it! What can we do?” echoed Step and the Trojan. - -“We can talk, argue,” Sam explained. “We can tell people Orkney has -been misjudged. We can spread everywhere the truth about Little -Perrine.” - -“Well, I’ll go so far, gladly,” said Step. - -“Same here!” cried the Trojan. - -“Of course,” agreed Poke. - -The Shark was frowning slightly. “If you fellows had listened to my -demonstration about the flight of the boulder, you wouldn’t have to -listen now to Sam. But it’s better late than never.” - -“Oh, cut the crowing!” said Step testily. - -“Might as well--it’ll be the same story over again next time I try to -put anything before you in black and white.” - -Step turned to Sam. “I don’t like Orkney,” he said. “I never expect -to like him. But I’ll promise to help set him right with the school. -If there were any way to find him and bring him back, I’d jump at the -chance.” - -“Guess you can make that promise for the whole club!” exclaimed Poke. - -“Sure!” cried the Trojan. The others nodded, a bit solemnly. - -“Then we’ll consider it a definite agreement,” said Sam. “If any of -us get a clue, a tip, a hint, the whole club will pull together in -whatever may be done.” - -Step laughed rather vaguely and glanced at the Shark. - -“What are the mathematical odds against getting a clue, old Headlights? -Figure ’em out for us.” - -The Shark’s lip curled. “Can’t! Problem’s all unknown quantities. But -you may have bull luck. It’s always coming to blooming idiots.” - -Sam interposed in the interest of peace. - -“Stow the joshing, fellows! We’ve reached an understanding, anyway. -It’s settled that if anybody gets news of Orkney the club is to share -it. I admit I don’t know where it can come from, but I’ll hope for it, -all the same.” - -Sam spoke guardedly enough, and with no suspicion that at that very -moment Lon Gates lay in wait for him. And Lon had news, interesting -certainly, and perhaps important. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI LON PLAYS DETECTIVE - - -“See that, sonny?” Lon, having captured Sam at the gate and led him -to the privacy of the barn, had taken a wrench from a shelf and was -displaying the implement with much complacency. “’Member it? Ought to! -It’s the wrench I told you the other day was lost, strayed or stolen.” - -“Oh!” said Sam. “And so you found it?” - -Lon chuckled. “Wal, I did sort o’ stumble on it, as you might say. Only -there was more’n plain stumblin’ involved, seein’ as how I had to take -it away from Peter Groche. And Peter don’t willingly give up what ain’t -his--not so long as he has his health.” - -“Then Peter’s turned up again!” - -“He’s turned up--this afternoon. Guess he’s turned down again, though, -before this. I’ll tell you how ’twas.” - -“Wait a minute! If he had the wrench, he’d stolen it from us. If he -stole it, there’s no doubt left that he played all the other tricks!” - -Lon thrust a hand into the bosom of his coat, and struck an attitude. - -“Now what do you think o’ me as a sleuth? Ain’t I a reg’lar Shylock -Holmes?” - -“Sherlock Holmes,” corrected Sam. - -“Oh, wal, Shylock’s the name that sort o’ sticks in my head. Guess he -must ’a’ been Sherlock’s brother. But then there was Hannibal, too.” - -Sam threw up his hands in mock despair. “Go on! Give me the yarn!” - -“Wal, me ’n’ Hannibal was goin’ down-town to do an errand for your ma, -and we cut across by Lane’s blacksmith shop. The door was open. I was -for paradin’ by, unnoticin’, but Hannibal began to growl and scooted -for that door. Somethin’ made me whistle him back, and I was tickled -I did; for when I peeked in, there was Peter Groche, big as life and -uglier’n ever, tryin’ to sell this wrench to old man Lane for a dime. I -knew it was ours the minute I clapped eyes on’t, but I jest thought I’d -wait a little and listen to what Mr. Groche was purrin’. And he was -explainin’ to Mr. Lane that he’d been away for a day or two, and that -he was back in town jest to settle his affairs, ’cause he’d picked up a -reg’lar job, choppin’ in the woods up Payne’s Stream, and he was goin’ -there soon’s he’d cashed in on a little portable property he had no -further use for. And then, seein’ as how Hannibal was gettin’ uneasy, I -walked in and took Mr. Groche by the collar, and walked him out o’ the -shop, and took away the wrench, and told him I guessed there was one -bargain sale he’d have to call off.” - -Sam’s eyes were opened widely. “Gee! but it took nerve to tackle him! -They say he’s an awful scrapper.” - -“Mebbe it wasn’t his scrappin’ day. And, of course, a bull terrier -growlin’ ’round a feller’s legs is kinder disconcertin’--say, Sam, -Hannibal showed plain enough he’d got a score to even with Groche. -Don’t wonder at that! ’Member the mornin’ the dog come limpin’ home? -Wal, anyhow, Peter didn’t put up a fight. He jest scowled, and cussed, -and swore he’d found the wrench. Then I told him I supposed the wrench -must ’a’ met him on the street and followed him home, and he shut up -on that part of it. Then I called him a thief, and a few other pet -names; and he acted queer, I swan he did!” - -“What did he do?” - -“Swelled up like a frog. Didn’t call names back at me, but behaved -contemptuous-like, as if I was a cheap ’un to worry about a plain old -wrench. Said he had money enough to buy me; or, anyhow, he knew where -he could get a bunch of it for the askin’. Then I laughed at him, and -he puffed up more’n ever. What’d I think of an even hundred dollars, -heh? Wal, it was his, whenever he chose to say ’bout a dozen words. -And there wa’n’t nobody else in Plainville that could say ’em. He knew -something, he did! And then he sputtered so there was no makin’ head or -tail of his nonsense.” - -Sam caught Lon’s arm. “What else happened? Tell me--quick!” - -There was an excitement in the boy’s tone that made Lon stare at him. - -“Why--what--what’s stirrin’ you up, Sam?” he demanded. - -“I’ll tell you afterward. Go on!” - -“Huh! That’s what Groche did. You see, Hannibal lost patience and -took a nip at his calf, and Peter jest missed kickin’ Hannibal; and -it struck me the gaiety of our social circle was gettin’ feverish. So -I grabbed Hannibal’s collar, and told Groche that if I saw him again -I’d have him arrested for thievin’. Over on the railroad a freight was -gettin’ ready to pull out on the branch line. I hinted he’d better jump -it, and let it give him a lift, if he was headin’ Payne’s Stream way. -And I was sorry he couldn’t stay to collect that ghost hundred dollars -he was dreamin’ about, but Hannibal wouldn’t be denied much longer; so -he’d better beat it. Which also he done.” - -“You mean he ran for the train?” - -“Yep! And caught it--saw him.” - -“And he’s going to Payne Stream?” - -“Looked mighty much that way. But what you drivin’ at, Sam?” - -“Wait a minute! Father’s camps are up there, aren’t they?” - -“Yes; he’s got gangs lumberin’ three-four places along the stream.” - -“Hurrah!” cried Sam. - -Lon’s jaw sagged. “What--what in Sam Hill’s got into you? This ain’t -the Fourth of July.” - -Sam was still clutching the man’s arm. “Look here, Lon! Wake up! Groche -has been up-stream, got a job, come to town for some reason or other. -You’ve started him back.” - -“Jesso!” - -“He boasted he could make a hundred dollars by telling something?” - -“That’s what he said.” - -“But you didn’t give him a chance to earn the money?” - -“No. Still, of course, most likely he was lyin’----” - -“For once he may have been speaking the truth. And it happens there’s -just one way to pick up a hundred in Plainville so easily.” - -“How’s that?” - -“By winning the reward for news of Tom Orkney!” - -Lon’s expression was crestfallen. “Of all the chuckleheads!” he -groaned. “And I didn’t tumble! I guess I’m jest a one-idea-at-a-time -feller. But that one idea that I’d got Groche dead to rights on the -stealin’ seemed big as a mountain--hid everything else. But I’ll bet -you’re right! Groche spotted the kid up in one o’ them camps on Payne -Stream, and came back to collect easy money----” - -“Sure he didn’t get it?” Sam broke in. - -“Yep! I scared him off. You see, ’twas a mite livelier’n I let on -jest now. And what between me ’n’ Hannibal and that wrench--reckon -I was wavin’ it sort o’ free and vi’lent--and the risk o’ bein’ -arrested--wal, I guess Groche was glad to go while the goin’ was good. -Then, too, he may ’a’ figgered he could come back to pick the plum when -things had quieted down--see?” - -Sam nodded. Lon was no braggart; no doubt the brush with Groche had -been very nearly a full-sized fight. - -“Wal, what’ll you do now?” Lon queried curiously. “Say! That hundred’d -come in pooty handy, eh?” - -“Oh, I couldn’t take it!” Sam said quickly. “That doesn’t mean, -though----” - -There he checked himself; wheeled; and strode toward the house. His -brain was working actively; a plan was taking shape, a plan hard to -execute, perhaps, yet not impossible. And if it could be carried out, -it might go far toward wiping out the balance against the Safety First -Club in the matter of Tom Orkney. - -Sometimes Fortune comes to meet those who seek her favors. No sooner -had Sam set foot in the house than he realized that there was an -unusual air of excitement in the normally tranquil establishment. Nor -had he long to wait for enlightenment. - -The supper bell rang, and very willingly he took his place at table; -for, as has been set forth, his cares had not blunted his appetite. -Three minutes later, however, he had laid down knife and fork, and was -listening eagerly. - -“We ought to make a fairly early start in the morning,” his father -remarked. “Warren will arrive on the nine o’clock train this evening, -and can get a good night’s rest. Perhaps we’d better have breakfast -about seven.” - -Mr. Warren was the New Yorker Mr. Parker was to take into the woods! -And they were to depart in the morning for the camps on Payne Stream! - -“Father!” cried Sam. - -Mr. Parker glanced in surprise at his son. “Well, what is it, young -man?” he asked. - -“The biggest favor I ever begged of you! Take me with you!” - -“On this trip?” - -“Yes, sir. I can’t tell you how much I want to go.” - -Mr. Parker shook his head doubtfully. “It’s a long haul--we’re going in -to the new camps, and maybe beyond them. I’m afraid----” - -“But it’s such a tremendous favor, Father!” - -“Exactly! But----” Mr. Parker paused. He had noted Sam’s earnestness; -had marked how the boy was bending forward, and how his hands gripped -the edge of the table. “But, you see----” Now he had caught his wife’s -eye, and again hesitated. For some strange reason she was endorsing -her son’s plea. He read the unspoken message; he saw her little nod of -affirmation. “Why--why, give me a moment to consider,” he concluded. - -“It’s vacation, you know,” said Mrs. Parker softly. - -“I know--but I hadn’t thought of----” - -“But you’ll think of it now, won’t you?” implored Sam. - -Once more husband and wife exchanged glances. - -“The fact that I hadn’t thought of taking you, Sam, doesn’t bar -considering the proposition now,” said Mr. Parker. “Well, I dare say it -can be arranged if----” - -“Bully!” cried Sam enthusiastically. “Oh, but that’s fine, sir! And I -want my crowd to go--the club--you know, sir!” - -“What!” - -“Yes, the club--all of ’em. That’s the best part of it.” - -“Possibly--for the club,” said Mr. Parker drily. “But I’m not planning -a wholesale migration.” - -“Still,” suggested Mrs. Parker, “there’s the big sleigh.” - -“There is.” - -“And the boys wouldn’t mind a little crowding.” - -“Not they! Warren may have prejudices.” - -“You can share the front seat with him. And I believe the roads are -well broken.” - -“Only so far as the first camp.” - -“But that’ll do for us,” cried Sam. “You can leave us there, and go on -with Mr. Warren, and pick us up when you come back. You won’t be more -than a couple of days away from us, and we’ll keep out of mischief.” - -“Why not put Lon in charge of the boys?” added Mrs. Parker. - -Her husband laughed outright. “It’s no use--I’m outvoted two to one! -But that is a happy thought about Lon. And jammed as we’ll be, an extra -passenger will make little difference. Only understand, son!” He turned -to Sam. “You’ve promised good behavior. Don’t forget that.” - -Sam was grave enough. “I won’t forget that I’m on probation, sir. -But--but then it’s settled?” - -“You may consider it so.” - -“Whoop! Excuse me, please!” Up sprang Sam so hastily that his chair was -almost overturned. He dashed into the hall and caught up the telephone. - -Mr. Parker glanced inquiringly at his wife. - -“There’s more animation than I’ve seen manifested for weeks,” he -observed. “Sam has seemed to be rather subdued lately.” - -“I’ve noticed it. And I confess I haven’t understood it.” - -“Effect of his escapade with my gun, perhaps?” - -“Not wholly. I’m sure there’s something else on his mind.” - -From the hall floated Sam’s eager voice: - -“Course your folks will let you go, Step. Make ’em, make ’em!... Yes, -yes; I tell you there’s a special reason. Biggest chance that ever -happened!... No, no; I can’t tell you now, but we’ll get the gang -to the club, and you’ll have the whole story.... No, no--just bring -along your snow-shoes.... But you’ve got to come--every fellow’s got -to!... What’s that?... Sure, there’s a clue!... No; I shan’t talk over -the wire.... Get permission to come along; that’s all you need worry -about.... Say, hang up now, won’t you? I want to catch Poke and the -rest before any of ’em go out for the evening.” - -Mr. Parker smiled quizzically. “My dear lady,” he said, “I confess that -I find difficulty in comprehending the mental processes of your son.” - -His wife gave a little sigh. “Ah! Sam is too much for me sometimes. -And this is one of the times. But”--and her face brightened--“but I’m -confident he has some excellent reason for setting his heart on this -expedition.” - -“Well, I hope so, at least,” said Mr. Parker, rather resignedly. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII TOM ORKNEY CHANGES HIS INTENTION - - -There are three ways in which one may travel from Plainville to -the woods about Payne Stream. One is partly by rail, involving a -jolting journey over the branch line to a flag-station, and then a -trip over roads which quickly dwindle to trails. The other routes -are by highways, neither being direct. Mr. Parker, choosing the more -promising of the two, brought his party in sight of the No. 1 camp in -mid-afternoon. - -The pace had been very moderate, but rather because Mr. Parker -spared his horses than because of hard going. In the more thickly -settled districts the sleighing was excellent, while the last lap of -the journey was over a “tote road,” worn smooth by the passage of -sledges carrying supplies to the lumbermen. Midway there had been a -stretch, over which travel evidently had been very light. Here, as -Lon explained to the boys, was a district of abandoned farms, some -of whose houses, fast falling into ruin, he pointed out to them. Then -he indicated groves of flourishing young trees, growing on land which -within his memory had been under cultivation, and philosophized a -little on the “hard grubbin’” on the hill farms. - -Wrapped in their fur coats, Mr. Parker and Mr. Warren shared the front -seat, and afforded shelter for the other passengers. The rear seats had -been removed from the sleigh, and Lon and the boys filled the bottom -of the vehicle, with plenty of straw and robes to keep them warm. On -the whole they did very well; though it is not to be denied that they -were quite willing to alight and stretch their legs when the sleigh -drew up at the door of a big log hut, low but long and with an ell at -the rear. Smoke was curling from two chimneys, one in the middle of the -main building and the other in the ell, but nobody was in evidence. -When Mr. Parker raised a shout, however, the door opened, and out came -a thick-set, ruddy, middle-aged man, in sweater, corduroys and heavy -boots. - -“Hullo there!” he sang out cheerfully. “Glad to see ye, Mr. Parker! -Wasn’t lookin’ for ye quite so early. And this is Mr. Warren, ain’t it? -Proud and happy, sir, to make your acquaintance. Wha’je think of this, -now? Kinder remind ye of Fifth Avenue, eh?” - -“Well, I’ve seen snow on the avenue--when it was very new snow--that -looked like that you have here,” said Mr. Warren. - -The thick-set man chuckled, and shook hands with Mr. Parker. Then he -repeated the ceremony with Mr. Warren, being duly presented as Mr. -Kane, foreman, or “boss” of No. 1 camp. Then for the first time he -seemed to observe Lon and the club. - -“Hullo some more--a whole lot more!” he exclaimed. “Wha’je got in -behind, Mr. Parker? New crew of lumberjacks?” - -Mr. Parker briefly explained, and there were more introductions. - -“Kinder wedged in, ain’t they?” inquired Mr. Kane. “Guess I’d better -play block and tackle.” - -With that he put out an arm, caught Step by the collar, and fairly -swung him to the ground. Whereupon Step’s friends swarmed over the -side of the sleigh, and fell to stamping their feet vigorously, in an -effort to quicken sluggish circulation. - -“Go in, boys, go in,” Mr. Kane urged hospitably. “Go in and warm up. -Goin’ to let these fellers stay with me, ain’t ye?” he added. - -“Yes,” said Mr. Parker. “Hope you can put ’em up, and put up with them, -for a day or two, while Warren and I go farther on.” - -“Sartain sure! Plenty o’ room, and grub, and blankets. Only ain’t ye -goin’ to stop at the Hotel de Kane?” - -“On the way out we will. Just now I’m anxious to get in touch with -Wells----” - -“Wal, now, if he didn’t go through to No. 2, not half an hour ahead of -ye!” - -Mr. Parker cast a weatherwise look at the sky, and gathered up the -reins. - -“Then I think Warren and I will push on,” said he. “There’s a feel of -more snow in the air, Kane. So, if you’ll just keep a sharp eye on -these young scamps and show them what a lumber camp is like----” - -“Trust me!” chuckled the cheery foreman. - -Sam had drawn a little apart from his friends and was glancing keenly -about him. At that hour, of course, the choppers were at work, probably -at some distance from the camp, but other employees might be in or near -the cabin. Already he had observed a fat man peering from the door of -the ell. That would be the cook, no doubt. The jingle of bells told him -that his father was resuming the journey, and his ears warned him that -Mr. Kane was shepherding his flock of guests indoors. - -Sam was as chilled and stiff from the long ride as were his friends, -but he still lingered at his post of observation. It was no more than -a chance, at the best, that Orkney, if he had come to the woods, was -at this especial camp; but Sam was making the most of the chance. In -full session of the club it had been decided that, if the runaway were -discovered, Sam should first reason with him in private, falling back, -if necessary, upon the support of the others. - -Except where a clearing had been made for the camp, and where ran the -narrow tote road, towered tall pines, doomed to fall as the choppers -worked their way from the borders of the tract to its center. Here -the snow had fallen deep and without drifts, such as the travelers had -seen in the more open country. Sam shivered a little. The cheerful -and vociferous boss had followed his charges into the cabin, and, of -a sudden, the watcher was oppressed by the silence and the loneliness -of the woods. Instinctively he took a step toward the main door of -the camp; halted; listened intently. Then he heard again, and with -certainty, the sound which he had half believed a trick of imagination. -It was the crunch of dry snow under a hurrying foot. - -Sam strode forward. As he turned the corner of the building, he caught -sight of a figure moving obliquely toward the runner tracks leading to -No. 2 camp. In spite of the low-drawn cap and the rough Mackinaw he -recognized Orkney. - -“Slipped out of a back door, and around the other side of the camp and -started for another get-away,” he reflected. “Bound not to be seen, if -he can help it. Thunder, but he is as stubborn as they make ’em!” - -Orkney was in haste, but Sam pursued still more rapidly. The tote road -bent sharply to avoid a great boulder. Orkney vanished around the -bend, without giving evidence that he suspected he was followed; but -when Sam passed the big rock, and thus shut himself from view from -the camp, he beheld Orkney, faced about and standing defiantly in the -middle of the road. - -Sam, too, pulled up. For a moment neither boy spoke. Sam advanced a -pace. Orkney contented himself with holding his ground. - -“Well, what do you want?” he growled. - -“You,” was Sam’s terse response. - -“Cut out the guff! I’m in a hurry.” - -Sam took another step forward. “See here, Orkney! I’ve got things to -tell you. You made a mistake when you bolted.” - -“That’s my own lookout. I’m satisfied.” - -“I’m not.” - -“Huh! It’s no affair of yours.” - -“I tell you it is,” Sam insisted. “Helped drive you out of town, didn’t -I?” - -“What’s that? ‘Drive me out?’” snorted Orkney. “Not much! Nobody drove -me--least of all you and your gang of swelled heads!” - -Sam kept his temper. “Might as well face things as they are. You ran -away because everybody was down on you, because everybody cut you, -because----” - -“Not on your life!” Orkney broke in fiercely. “I don’t care a rap for -the whole school or the whole town!” - -“All the same you couldn’t stand the gaff. So you turned tail and -bolted. And here I find you a wood-chopper and----” - -“No siree! Can’t you get anything straight? I’m cookee. Know what that -is? Cook’s helper. Or, rather, I was. I’ve quit the job. I’m moving on.” - -“You’re running again--from us!” - -“I’m running from nobody. But I don’t choose to stay where a lot of -prying sneaks are butting in.” - -Sam took another step. This proffering of the amende honorable was -proving to be even more difficult than he had feared, but he kept -himself in hand. - -“Orkney,” he said earnestly, “you’ve got to hear me. The other day I -charged you with a lot of rascality. I was mistaken. I take back what -I said. Then, like everybody else, I thought you as good as shoved -Little Perrine into the pond. That was another mistake; I’m sorry for -it.” - -Orkney was more puzzled than pleased. “Eh? Sorry, are you? Well, if you -want to apologize----” - -“Apologize” is a word which, sometimes, grates on the ear. Sam flushed. - -“Go slow there!” he said sharply; then, with a change of tone, went on: -“If I’m apologizing, it’s for the things I did because I was fooled, -deceived. And the club are with me in this. But I’m not apologizing, -and they’re not apologizing for thinking you a grouchy sorehead. You’ve -made your own troubles, mostly. We’ll let that pass, though. I’m not -here to call you names; I’m here to tell you that, if you’d stuck it -out and not run away, things would have cleared up for you. As it is, -we’re ready to do what we can for you if you’ll come back. We’ll spread -the truth. You can make a fresh start.” - -“With the help of your bunch! I see myself doing it!” - -“Look at the case fairly. We came here in the hope of finding you. We -came to make the offer.” - -“Got a tip where I was, eh? Well, I know who gave it. Fellow from -Plainville, who’d been hanging around the camp, disappeared for a -couple of days, and then came back.” - -“Groche--Peter Groche? Is he here now?” - -“Was this morning. It was none of his business, and it’s none of yours, -Parker--mixing up in my affairs this way.” - -“But it is our business!” - -Orkney’s jaw was thrust forward obstinately. “See here, Mr. Sam Parker, -you’re going too far. You’re banking on a notion that on account of -what you did for me at the pond I’ve got to come when you whistle. Get -that out of your head! I told you I couldn’t very well fight you--you -know why--but there’s a limit. You don’t own me!” - -Sam had not thoroughly mastered the rôle of bearer of the olive branch. -“Mighty glad I don’t own you! If I did, I’d get rid of you very quick!” -he rapped out. “And if you want to fight--why, the slate’s clean; you -don’t owe me anything.” - -Orkney dropped a bundle he had been carrying under one arm. Sam, -observing this readiness to clear for action, struggled between zest -for the fray and duty, as he saw it. - -“Listen, you--you chump! Show common sense, can’t you? Come home with -us. We want you to have a square deal. We’ll back you up--so far as we -can. Little Perrine swears by you--we’ll spread his story. And there’s -another thing--maybe you don’t guess how awfully broken up your aunt -is. She’s almost crazy. She’s done everything she could to trace you. -She’s offered a reward----” - -“What’s that? A reward?” - -“Yes--hundred dollars for news of you.” - -“Oh-ho!” Orkney’s cynical grin was a taunt in itself. “Oh-ho! So that’s -your lay, eh? You’re after me because you and your gang are after the -hundred? Well, you don’t get either--see?” - -Orkney had passed the limits of endurance. Rage seized Sam. To be -charged with mercenary motives was more than he could bear. He sprang -at Tom, and at the same instant that vigilant youth leaped to meet the -attack. There was a furious exchange of blows, each combatant seeking -to inflict punishment and making no effort to avoid it. Then the pair -grappled, and swayed back and forth, struggling desperately for the -mastery. - -It was a fight, and a real fight; but one carried on under unusual -conditions. Both boys were in heavy winter clothes; there had been no -time to discard overcoats or jackets, or even the thick gloves they -wore. So they were, in some degree, like armored knights of old, come -to grips in full panoply, by which they were at once hampered and -protected; while the yielding snow offered most uncertain footing. Now -they were in the tracks of the tote road; now they had reeled into snow -that rose above their plunging knees; now they were floundering back to -the path. Sam, slipping, went to his knees. Orkney, over-eager to press -his advantage, lost it; for though he landed a blow on his opponent’s -forehead, it was at cost of the precious “under hold.” Sam’s arms -were locked about Tom’s waist; his chin was pressing hard against the -other’s shoulder. Orkney swayed backward under the pressure. He made a -frantic effort to break free; failed; lost footing. Down he went into -the deep snow, Sam falling upon him and still holding him fast. - -But the battle was far from ended. Orkney writhed and twisted. He -struck at Sam, raining ineffective blows upon his head and shoulders. -He kicked furiously, sending the snow flying in showers. Indeed, he -fought determinedly but vainly, until at last Sam, keeping his wits, -had slowly shifted position, and was astride his prostrate foe’s -body. Then, with one of Sam’s hands at his throat, and the other -hand clenched and poised above his unprotected face, Orkney sullenly -accepted defeat and ceased to struggle. - -“You--you had enough?” Sam panted. - -“Y-Yes!” gasped Orkney with all imaginable reluctance. - -“Give up?” - -“Yes.” It was barely a whisper, but Sam caught the word. - -“All--all right!” he said, breathlessly but cheerfully, and got upon -his feet. - -Orkney sat up, but did not attempt to rise. His expression betrayed -intense chagrin. - -“I--I won’t admit you--you licked me, but--but you got me down,” he -said brokenly. “And--and I gave up. But that--that doesn’t settle -anything.” - -To his surprise Sam laughed. - -“Sure settles one thing, Orkney! You said you--you wanted to fight -me, but couldn’t--’member? Well, somehow, we seem to have dodged the -difficulty.” - -Tom seemed to find a certain grim consolation in this aspect of the -case. - -“That’s so. But--but what do you want me to do now?” - -“Stand up!” said Sam promptly. “We’ll brush the snow off each other. -Then we’ll go back to the camp. You’d better slip in the way you -slipped out. I’ll go in at the front door, and tell the fellows you’re -working here, and I’ve had a talk with you. Then you’ll happen along -naturally. The crowd will be decent.” - -Orkney made a grimace. “S’pose I’ll have to see ’em--might as well have -it over. But see here, Parker! Mind you, I haven’t promised to go back -to Plainville.” - -“But you’ll think it over?” - -“Well,” said Orkney reluctantly, “I’ll agree to that. Yes; I’ll stay a -day or two, anyway, and think it over.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII LON GATES ENTERTAINS - - -What easily might have been an embarrassing situation was dealt with -capably by the Safety First Club. Hardly had the jovial Mr. Kane -welcomed the belated Sam and demanded how in the world he had happened -to stray from the rest of the party and what he had been doing to amuse -himself out in the cold; and hardly had Sam explained as nonchalantly -as might be that he had chanced to meet a schoolmate, who was serving -as cookee to the camp, and had paused for a chat with him, when the -door in the partition shutting off the cook’s domain opened, and Orkney -appeared. - -There was brief, but tense, silence as Tom advanced toward the group. -Then Step, who chanced to be nearest, spoke. - -“H’lo, Orkney!” said he brusquely but not harshly. - -“Howdy, Step!” responded Tom, quite in the same manner. - -“Oh, up here for a while, eh?” - -This was Poke’s contribution. The others nodded, a bit stiffly, maybe; -and the Shark regarded the newcomer solemnly through his glasses. -Nowhere was there sign of hostility, even if warmer welcome were -lacking. There was not a boy there but guessed shrewdly at what had -taken place; but not for love or money would one of them have betrayed -his knowledge by speech or look. At times the methods of youngsters -in their teens curiously resemble those of Indians--at least, to the -extent of jealous hiding of emotion. Both Tom and Sam bore a mark or -two of their encounter, but for the present these were things to be -carefully ignored. - -Mr. Kane, as he himself would have said, “sensed” something queer; but -though he glanced quickly and inquiringly from face to face, he could -make nothing of the manner of his guests. And then Orkney going about -his duties and the boys resuming their talk, he gave up the problem, -and turned to Lon, from whom he demanded the latest news of the outside -world. - -It was Sam’s first opportunity to inspect a lumber camp, and he -studied with keen interest the long, low room, with its walls of logs, -its big stove, its line of bunks against each wall, and its “deacon’s -seat,” or bench built beside the bunks. The windows were few and small. -Roughly as the house was built, it was very solidly put together, while -drafts were lessened by moss packed between the logs. Here and there -hung spare clothing and extra boots. There was no attempt anywhere at -adornment or decoration, but order of a sort seemed to be maintained, -the order which places everything where it can be most handily come at. - -Dusk was falling, and the choppers began to straggle into the camp. -With them came the “yard men,” whose business it is to handle and pile -the logs, and the teamsters. Strapping big fellows were most of Kane’s -crew, roughly clad for rough work, hard as nails, and hungry as bears. -Among the last to arrive was Peter Groche, who slouched into the big -room, grunted when his eyes fell upon Lon and the boys, halted for -an instant, regarding them evilly, and finally made his way to what -appeared to be his especial corner. There he remained until the whole -company trooped through the doorway in the partition to the combined -kitchen and dining-room. - -This filled the ell of the camp. There was a range in one corner, and a -table of boards ran the length of the room, benches serving as seats. -Behind these were two bunks for the cook and the cookee. The supper, -everything being eaten from tin plates, made up in quantity what it -lacked in variety. Beans, baked with pork, formed the principal dish, -most excellent beans and in seemingly inexhaustible supply. Then there -were enormous camp doughnuts, which would have appalled a dyspeptic, -but which proved to be singularly toothsome and comforting after a day -in the open. Tea, sweetened with molasses, was drunk from tin cups. -The boys may not have been able to match the huge appetites of the -woodsmen, but they ate and ate until, as Poke whispered to Step, he’d -have to stop or hitch two belts together; for the food, simple as it -was, was well cooked and tempting enough to hungry folk, young or old. - -Sam divided attention between Orkney and Peter Groche. The cookee, of -course, was busy throughout the meal, devoting himself to his tasks -and going about them in businesslike fashion. Sam fancied Tom was not -in high favor with the men, though it certainly could not be alleged -that he neglected them. Still, Tom’s was a dogged and silent manner of -performance not calculated to secure popularity anywhere. - -At table Groche’s appearance was at its worst. He ate greedily and -enormously, fairly shoveling the food into his mouth. Sam observed that -the man kept his eyes on his plate, spoke to none of his neighbors, -and showed no interest in the talk which began to be heard when the -supper drew to a close. He was the first to rise, and shuffled out as -if glad to go; but when the boys trooped into the main room, there was -Groche, perched in his corner and sucking at a black pipe. And there he -remained until dislodged by no less heroic a champion than the Shark. - -Now the Shark, as has been related, had the quaint habit, into which -near-sighted persons, given to reflection, sometimes fall, of fixing -his gaze upon some object and holding it there without any especial -concern in the object, or consciousness of its existence. As it -happened, the Shark had chanced to wonder what might be the weight of -a layer of snow two feet deep, spread evenly over one square mile; and -being more charmed with the computation than with the conversation of -his friends and hosts, he sat down opposite Peter, brought him into -range of his big spectacles--and promptly forgot his very existence. - -Groche, on his part, woke up gradually, as it were, to the baleful and -unwinking intensity of the scrutiny to which he seemed to be subjected. -He glared at the Shark, growled deep in his throat, tried to stare down -the unconscious youth over the way. Failing utterly in this, he dropped -his eyes, pulled desperately at the black pipe, shifted position, stole -a side-long glance at his vis-à-vis. The Shark was still contemplating -him with unruffled composure and deadly concentration. - -Groche bent forward, scowling his fiercest. The Shark ignored the -demonstration. Groche made an abrupt and threatening motion. The Shark -didn’t move an eyelash. A strange fear clutched the heart of the -ne’er-do-well. He had heard frightful tales of the evil eye. What the -evil eye might be he had no notion, but also he had no intention to -risk learning. Up he jumped, retreating the length of the room; while -the Shark, wholly absorbed, stared at the wall instead of Mr. Groche, -without being aware of the change in view. - -Sam, the observant, had not missed Groche’s strategic movement, though -he did not grasp its cause. Nor did he fail to perceive that Peter from -his new post was sourly surveying the group by the stove, with especial -regard for Lon and himself. But then came Orkney to distract Sam’s -attention. - -Tom, his work finished, took the place the Trojan made for him on the -bench. His air was not markedly sullen, but it was reserved; and it -could not be denied that the talk, which had been going merrily enough, -began to drag. Sam, hurrying to the rescue, started a topic, which -drooped and languished. Tom was attentive but unresponsive; so were the -club members. Both sides were trying to be fair, and the result was -chilling. - -Sam caught Lon’s eye, and telegraphed a message for help. Lon -understood. He nodded in reply. Clasping his hands about a knee, he -fell to rocking his body back and forth. Of a sudden he broke into a -loud laugh. - -“Haw, haw, haw! If he wa’n’t jest the plumb ridiculousest old critter!” - -“Who was?” asked Herman Boyd. - -“Old man Wallowby,” chuckled Lon. “Dunno jest what made me think of -him. Long before the time of you boys he was.” - -“I remember him,” said Mr. Kane. “Queer old codger as ever was. Folks -used to say there was only three things he never seemed to get around -to--washin’, workin’, or worryin’.” - -“Jesso!” Lon agreed; then made correction: “Say, though! There was one -time he was worried, fast enough. Ever hear tell o’ the night he fit -the bear?” - -“Fit a b’ar?” echoed the foreman. “No; new one on me.” - -Several of the lumberjacks, who had been listening to the talk, drew -closer. - -“There’s two-three b’ar hangin’ ’round No. 3 camp,” one of them -volunteered. - -“Never mind them, Jake,” interposed Mr. Kane. “Le’s hear about old -Wallowby’s run-in.” - -Lon ran a glance about the expectant group. - -“Wal,” he drawled, “I dunno’s I can tell the story the way Wallowby -told it to me, but I’ll try. You know, the old humbug uster give out -that he was a nat’ral bonesetter, and uster wander about, foragin’ off -the country and pretendin’ to look for broken bones. That’s how he got -wind of old Calleck, who must ’a’ been a good deal of the same breed. -Only Calleck was a yarb doctor, and a bigger freak’n Wallowby himself. -He was all the while prowlin’ through the woods, diggin’ up roots for -his medicines; and he called himself a hermit; and he built himself a -mighty queer house off by his lonesome, a stone house, and----” - -“I’ve seed it,” one of the men broke in. “What’s left of it’s standin’ -over on the South Fork, not ten mile from here. But ’twa’n’t all stone. -Calleck got tired o’ luggin’ rock, and topped it off anyhow he could.” - -“Like enough!” said Lon. “I’ve never been to the house, but that’s -about the fashion old Calleck’d ’a’ done any job. But I’ll get on to -where Wallowby and the bear come in. Wallowby’d been cruisin’ down in -the villages, and I guess he’d sorter wore out his welcome in spots. -Way he put it to me was he got to longin’ for the congenial society -of a brother scientist, and so he tramped off to find Calleck. He’d -never seen him and he didn’t know jest where the stone house was, but -everybody was amazin’ glad to give him directions and push him along; -and so he moseyed up into the woods. - -“It was along in December, but the ground was still bare; though it had -been mighty cold, and it kept gettin’ colder all the while Wallowby -climbed the hills. Got dark, too, and the wind was risin’. ’Cordin’ to -Wallowby ’twas perishin’ cold, and black as a cellar, before he woke to -the fact that he was as good as lost. - -“He stopped and tried to figger out his bearin’s, but it was no use. -It was a second growth, hard wood country, with a lot o’ scrub stuff -mixed in; and he’d been fallin’ over roots, and duckin’ branches till -his notions o’ north and south was twisted as a corkscrew. Looked like -he was in for a night in the brush, but to keep from freezin’ he -wrapped an old blanket shawl--he always carried one--around his head, -and kept goin’. ’Twa’n’t no pleasure trip, believe me! He shivered when -he told about it, but he owned up he shivered wuss that night when he -thought he heard something pantin’ off to the right. What with the old -shawl over his ears he wa’n’t quite sure; but, anyhow, he stepped out -livelier’n ever, and then plunk! he bust through a bush and into a -clearin’. And in the clearin’ was a big black spot that meant a house -o’ some sort. - -“Wallowby made for that house same’s a woodchuck makes for his hole -when there’s a dog after him. He went round the corner of it so fast -that he couldn’t stop, when, all of a sudden, he saw waddlin’ ’round -the other corner something big and black, and loomin’ like a mountain. -And he heard that pantin’ so loud it sounded like a steam engine. And -then, not bein’ able to clap on the brakes quick enough, he butted -fair into the thing. His hands hit the thing’s body, and he could feel -thick fur. He tried to yell, but all that’d come out of his throat was -a hoarse growl. And then what was like a big claw raked his arm, and -laid open three-four deep gashes across the back of his hand. - -“’Twas a mutual surprise party all right. Wallowby turned, and headed -for the bush, as if he was more like a scared jack-rabbit than a -woodchuck. But he didn’t go far. He fell over a root, and before he got -up it broke on him that the bear was makin’ for cover on the other side -o’ the house. - -“Wallowby told me he didn’t lose sight of the argyment that, if he -didn’t get into that house, he’d freeze. With the blood tricklin’ from -his hand he wa’n’t anxious to risk old Bruin changin’ his mind and -comin’ back, so he sneaked round to the back o’ the place. He had no -weapon but a jack-knife with a broken blade, but he got it out. - -“‘And would you believe it?’ he says to me. ‘It was like Tophet for -darkness, but, jest as I got to the house, that miserable critter came -pantin’ at me! He let drive with that murderin’ claw of hisn, and I dug -into him with the knife. And then, somehow, each of us was reminded -of his own business, and done accordin’. I got back into the brush, -and sot there thinkin’. I was all of a sweat, and freezin’ at the -same time; for the chill was gettin’ into the very marrow of my bones. -And, pooty soon, studyin’ that lump of a house like it was a chicken -pie Thanksgivin’ mornin’, I managed to make out the chimney against -the sky. It was a whoppin’ big chimney, big enough for a man to drop -through. And the roof sloped ’most to the ground. - -“‘Wal,’ says Wallowby, tellin’ the story, ‘I didn’t need two hints. I -got holt of the edge of that roof, and I wriggled up and clumb to the -chimney. And then I heard that pantin’ ’tother side o’ the stack, and -next minute me ’n’ that fool bear was buttin’ our heads together. I -rolled down the slope and over the edge, and ’most druv the breath out -o’ my body. But, all the same, I heard an awful thud as the bear fell -off ’tother side. - -“‘Wal, I sat there a minute or two gettin’ my wind back and my mad -up. I couldn’t stay where I was--I’d ‘a’ froze stiff. And if I’d got -to bet by a bear, I’d be something better’n a cold lunch, anyhow. -And, besides, all my life I’d been helpin’ sufferin’ humanity dirt -cheap; but I drew the line at sellin’ my life anything but dear to -a wuthless old he-bear. So up I got, grippin’ the knife, and started -full tilt for the front door. If that bear interfered, he’d take his -chances o’ gettin’ hurt. But would you believe it? Just as I dove for -the door he riz up in the darkness ahead o’ me and done the same thing, -simultaneous. We whanged away at each other, and then, sir, sure as I’m -standin’ here! we jammed through that door together; and fell over a -stool; and he went one way, and I went another. And the knife flew out -o’ my hand, and hit a log smoulderin’ on the hearth, and a flame shot -up. And there on his hands and knees, glarin’ at me and wheezin’ like a -broken bellows, was the ornariest old codger in a buffalo coat you ever -set eyes on! - -“‘“Wal,” says I; “wal, but you got a mighty peculiar way o’ treatin’ -company! Ain’t you got no better manners?” - -“‘“Why--why”--Calleck gasps--“I--I took ye for--for a bear.” - -“‘“Same here,” says I; “only vicy versy. And what you want to go -pantin’ like one for?” - -“‘“It’s the--the asthmy,” says he. “And what for do you go--go -traipsin’ ’round with--with that mess o’ shawl disguisin’ the human -figger?” - -“‘I stuck out my bleedin’ hand. “Anyhow, I ain’t grown claws,” says I. - -“‘“Huh! neither have I,” says he, and shows what he’s carryin’. And -it’s a little rake he uses to dig for his roots.’ - -“And that,” Lon concluded, “is old Wallowby’s own yarn o’ the biggest -bear fight that ever was pulled off in these parts, I guess.” - -There was a roar of applause and laughter, led by the cheery boss of -the camp; even Tom Orkney was grinning. Sam sent a grateful glance at -the breaker of the social ice. And then, as Mr. Kane prepared to match -one bear story with another, he saw Peter Groche get upon his feet and -lounge clumsily to the door. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV PETER GROCHE SCORES AGAIN - - -Sam had found his bunk-bed of spruce boughs amazingly comfortable and, -snuggling under the blankets, had promptly dropped asleep. He was -healthily tired from his day’s travels; it was odd, therefore, that -distressing dreams came to disturb his rest. He began to toss and turn, -and writhe and groan. A giant’s hand, clutching at his throat, seemed -to be about to strangle him. There was a crushing weight upon his -chest; a trip-hammer was beating furiously in his head. Then some vague -monster had seized him, and was bearing him away with appalling speed. - -The boy cried out in terror, and struggled desperately. Of a sudden he -was free of the monster’s grasp; he was falling from a dizzy height, -and about to be dashed to pieces. And then, just as destruction -impended, the dream passed, and he awoke to a reality sufficiently -perilous. - -He was lying, half in, half out of the bunk. The camp was full of -smoke, dense, acrid, stifling. His eyes smarted and his throat was -parched and burning. At his side lay Poke, breathing stertorously. -Sam made him out by a flickering light, which came from the direction -of the cook’s quarters. Beyond him was Step, raised on an elbow and -coughing chokingly. - -“Fire! Fire!” A startled voice raised the alarm, and others repeated -the cry. Men began to stagger by him, stumbling as they went and -groping wildly. Then three or four, led by Mr. Kane, charged the other -way. The boss was shouting orders. There was the crash of an axe -vigorously plied. The glass fell from a shattered window, and a draft -of cool air fanned his face. - -Sam, fully awake at last, sprang from the bunk. Step, too, had gained -the floor. Between them they dragged Poke from his blankets, and put -him on his feet. - -“Take him out, Step!” Sam directed, and set himself to the task of -rousing the Trojan, who appeared to be in the half unconscious -condition in which Poke was. The Shark, having very calmly adjusted his -spectacles on his nose, was tugging at Herman Boyd’s shoulder. Sam lent -a hand, and with his aid Herman was started for the door. - -Tom Orkney overtook them. He was breathing with difficulty, but managed -to gasp out that the ell was all ablaze. Then came the foreman and a -lumberjack, carrying a helpless form. - -“Cook--right where smudge was thickest--overcome,” Tom explained -hoarsely. - -Through the doorway they pressed into the cold, still air of the -starless night. Mr. Kane touched Sam’s arm. - -“All your crowd out? Good! Keep ’em out till we get the fire under. -’Twon’t be long, what with unseasoned logs and the snow on the roof.” - -Then he was dashing back into the camp, and shouting orders to his men. -Tom Orkney bent over the cook, who was lying in the snow. - -[Illustration: “HE’S COMING ’ROUND ALL RIGHT”] - -“He’s coming ’round all right,” he reported. “We’ll bring out some -blankets----” - -Sam and Step rushed into the camp, and emerged with their arms filled -with heavy coverings. Tom made use of two, while the others were -distributed among the boys. Luckily they had turned in “all standing” -and were fully clothed except for their shoes, which Step recovered by -a second trip into the building. - -“Lon’s safe--saw him in there,” said he. “When he heard we were all -right he stayed to help fight the fire. Gee, but the kitchen’s a -furnace!” - -“I know--I saw it, and I don’t understand it,” Orkney declared. “There -was some grease about, of course--can’t help that with all the frying. -Still, the way the blaze ran----” - -There he checked himself. “You mean you suspect----?” queried Step. - -“I mean it spread mighty fast,” said Orkney drily. - -“Think it caught from the stove, don’t you?” - -“Huh! Cook’s a very careful man.” - -A bucket brigade was forming to bring water from a hole chopped in the -ice of the stream, and the boys volunteered their services. Somebody -had found a ladder, and now the fire was being attacked from the -roof as well as below. Mr. Kane had plenty of men, and employed them -skilfully, though, of course, his equipment was limited. The roof of -the ell fell in, and for a few minutes flames shot through the opening -thus left, but their inroads upon the main camp were quickly checked, -the heavy logs of the walls, the snow, and the lack of wind all -contributing to the result. In half an hour the fire was under control, -and in another Mr. Kane officially declared it out. - -Two or three men were told off to build a new partition, temporarily -filling the gap caused by the fire, and the rest of the crew and the -boys gathered about the big stove in the main camp. Garments drenched -in the bucket brigade service were hung up to dry; the cook, now quite -recovered, brewed a great can of steaming tea. Then there was a sort -of informal roll call. None of the boys appeared to be the worse for -his adventures, and the lumberjacks seemed to find the break in the -monotony of life rather enjoyable. But the foreman, “counting noses,” -as he put it, made a startling discovery. - -Peter Groche was missing! - -Nobody could recall seeing the man after the alarm was given. Anxious -search of the ruins of the ell, conducted by the aid of lanterns, -revealed no charred evidences that he had perished. It led, however, to -the discovery of a half-burned cloth, smoked and discolored, and giving -forth the unmistakable smell of kerosene. - -The cook rushed out of the camp, returning presently with a five-gallon -can. - -“See this!” he cried excitedly. “And this!” He held the can upside -down, but no stream poured from its open neck. “Nigh full ’twas -yesterday, and now it’s dry as a bone! That’s why the fire went through -my place in jumps. He must ’a’ sneaked in and soused everything with -the stuff after I went to sleep.” - -“Huh! He might ’a’ done it with a waterin’ cart for all you’d knowed -it, once you got to snorin’!” jeered one of the choppers. - -The cook hotly insisted that he had full right to sleep soundly after -feeding a “gang of two-legged wolves,” but the foreman stopped the -controversy. - -“Steady there, all around!” he commanded. “This is a crazy job, but -it’s a bad job and a state’s prison job. But sure’s my name’s Kane, -I’ll land the scoundrel that done it!” He glanced at his watch. “It’ll -be gettin’ light in half an hour. Dayton and ‘Stub’ Cyr, I want ye!” - -Two of the men--stout fellows both--stepped forward. - -“You take after Groche. You know the woods. He’ll have left a trail----” - -From the background somebody spoke. “My snow-shoes are gone. He’s stole -’em!” - -“Like enough! And that’ll mean Groche won’t stick to the tote road. -He’ll strike out ’cross country--Canady way, mebbe.” - -Lon pushed to the front. “See here!” said he. “Let me in on this, will -you? Guess I’ll toddle along with your two.” - -“Eh?” said Mr. Kane in surprise. - -Lon’s expression was determined. “Sure’s I’m risin’ two-year old, this -is my party, as you might be sayin’. I got a sorter runnin’ account -with that critter. And I can tell you this: he wa’n’t aimin’ to singe -your hair, Mr. Kane, so much as he was layin’ for me and some other -folks. I oughter tackled him last night, but I didn’t; and now I’ve got -all the more reason for tacklin’ him good and plenty. And I’m makin’ -no brags, but if I lay paws on him, I’ll bring him in, and don’t you -forget it! So, if you’ll jest fit me out with snow-shoes and one or two -other trinkets, I’ll be a heap obleeged to you.” - -The foreman inclined his head. “All right--jest as ye say, Gates. -’Nother pair o’ long legs like yourn won’t do no harm to the hunt. -We’ll outfit ye.” - -Lon crossed to Sam. - -“You see how ’tis,” he said, lowering his voice. “I jest plain got a -call for this job. Your father’d say ’twas all right if he was here. -But if I take my eye off you for a while, Sam, you’ve got to give me -your word you’ll keep out o’ mischief and keep the rest out of it. I -guess you can do it--you’ve been toein’ the mark like a major lately.” - -Sam’s eyes twinkled. “Like Major Bates, for instance?” - -“Yep--seein’ as how he’s the only real, blown-in-the-bottle major I -know. And that reminds me: this trip I’ll be a genooine Shylock Holmes.” - -“Sherlock Holmes,” Sam corrected. - -“No,” Lon insisted; “Shylock’s better. Chap, wa’n’t he, that stood out -for his pound o’ flesh? Well, that’s me--only I’m goin’ to bring in -nigher two hundred. And I’m goin’ to bring it in on the hoof--Peter -Groche’s hoof, at that!” - -So matters were arranged. As soon as the light strengthened -sufficiently, Lon and Stub Cyr and Dayton set out. Meanwhile, the cook -had contrived breakfast. The bill of fare was that of supper, but -Sam observed that the tin plates were not heaped so lavishly. And, -observing, he was stricken by doubts. - -At the first opportunity he drew Mr. Kane aside. - -“I wish you’d tell me something,” he said. “The fire has left you short -of supplies, hasn’t it?” - -“Wal, kinder,” the boss admitted. “Most of the grub, ye see, was stored -in the ell. But ye needn’t worry; we won’t starve. I’ve started a team -for Coreytown for supplies. It ought to be back by night.” - -Sam meditated for a moment. “Look here, Mr. Kane! We’re half a dozen -extra mouths to feed, and we can’t help being more or less in your way. -And there isn’t any reason why we should stay. All of us brought our -snow-shoes, and it’ll be just as much sport--yes, more--to be marching -out on them as to be tramping about the camp. Father’ll understand. -With the early start we’ll make, we can reach Coreytown long before -dark. It isn’t over a dozen miles----” - -“Call it fifteen.” - -“Well, fifteen, then. It’ll be bully fun for us.” - -It was the foreman’s turn to deliberate. “Wal, I dunno. Hate like time -to be seemin’ to throw ye out! Only we can’t make ye extry comfortable, -mussed up the way we be. And goin’ out would be safe enough. Track’s -plain, and the road’s broke. I dunno, I dunno.” - -“I think we’d better not stay, sir.” - -“Wal, suit yerself, of course. There’s kinder a feel o’ more weather in -the air, but likely’s not it’ll hold off a spell. And the road’s in -good shape. Then, too, there’s the short cut. If ye knew the lay of the -land it’d save you a lot o’ distance. The road’s the long way ’round, -ye know--makes jest about a right-angle.” - -The Shark and Step, who had come up, overheard this. - -“You mean, then,” queried the former, “that we could lessen effort by -taking the hypothenuse?” - -The foreman smiled. “Or words to that effect, sonny.” - -“I comprehend the proposition perfectly,” the Shark solemnly assured -him. “It may be regarded as elementary.” - -“I’m for the march,” Step declared. “Say, it’ll beat old Xenophon’s -Anabasis to a frazzle!” - -“I’m for anything that’ll do that!” cried Poke, who had joined the -group. “_Enteuthen exelaunei_ on snow-shoes, by Jiminy!” - -“Umph! Never did get the hang o’ French myself,” quoth the boss. “But -you fellers’d better talk over things in plain English. Then let me -know what ye decide on.” - -Herman Boyd, called to the conference, added his vote to those of his -friends. Tramping out on snow-shoes would be the greatest kind of a -lark. The Trojan was of the same opinion. - -Tom Orkney and Mr. Kane were in consultation in a corner. When the -foreman moved off, Sam joined Orkney. - -“The boys are unanimously for tramping down to the settlements,” said -he. - -“I know. The boss told me how you felt,” Tom answered. - -“Seems wisest. Grub’s short here, and the trip will be easy. Lon can -come out when he’s ready. Most likely my father will pick him up.” - -“Yes.” - -There was a pause, not free from embarrassment. - -“I--I hope you’ve been thinking things over,” Sam ventured. “You said -you would, you know.” - -“I have thought them over,” said Orkney stolidly. - -“You’ll come with us?” - -Orkney hesitated. “I--I--well, I’ve laid the facts before Mr. Kane. -And he--he’s a mighty square man, Parker!” - -“He’ll release you? And you’ll come?” - -“Yes,” said Orkney very soberly; “yes, I’ll come.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXV THE BLIZZARD - - -The youthful adventurers were on the march, and were tramping along on -their snow-shoes in high spirits. Long-legged Step led, followed in -order by Poke, Herman Boyd, the Trojan and the Shark. Then came Orkney, -lagging a little, with Sam at his heels. All were warmly clothed, but -their luggage was of the lightest, being limited, indeed, to a small -axe, carried in a holster, attached to Herman’s belt. - -For a half mile the tote road led through a growth of pine and spruce; -but then, at the crest of a little hill, they came to a more open -tract. The road bent to the left; but straight before them was an -inviting slope. - -Sam saw the leaders halt and put their heads together. When he came up -to them Step was speaking eagerly. - -“Why not, fellows? Gee, but we might as well have all the fun that’s -going! Who wants to go poking along an old sleigh track when he might -be cutting across country? And think of what we’d save! Mr. Kane said -the road made a right angle--you figure it out, Shark.” - -“Huh! No given quantities,” snapped the Shark. - -“Why not? Call it fifteen miles to Coreytown. Say the angle is -half-way. What’s the answer, Old Skeesicks?” - -“Nine-decimal-point-two-plus,” answered the Shark promptly. - -Step was exultant. “What did I tell you! Six miles to the good!” - -“But what’s the direction?” demanded Sam. - -“Why, straight ahead,” said Step, and pointed down the slope. - -“How do you know?” - -“Must be.” - -“I don’t see why.” - -Poke took a hand. “Look here, Shark! Can’t you figure out the course?” - -The Shark frowned. “You never heard of the word ‘exact,’ did you? You -want me to treat a wiggling road like two straight lines meeting at a -right angle. But if you’ve got to assume everything, you might as well -pile it on. So, if you assume that there is a right angled, isosceles -triangle--two sides equal, understand?--then each of the acute angles -will be of forty-five degrees. And so, to travel to the hypothenuse, -you’d steer forty-five degrees from the line of the road.” - -“Oh, sure!” said Step hastily. “Sure you would! But I haven’t a -compass, or dividers, or--or whatever it is you use.” - -“Got a watch, haven’t you?” snorted the Shark. “Well, use that! Fifteen -minutes on the dial equals ninety degrees. Forty-five degrees is the -same as seven minutes, thirty seconds. There’s your angle for you. Hang -it! don’t you fellows know anything?” - -Step pulled out his timepiece. “Fine! Just as I said--straight ahead. -And say! See that big hill--way off--pointed top! It’s a bit misty, but -it’s right on our line, and it makes a cracking landmark. Come on, you -chaps!” - -“Suits me,” said Poke. - -“Ditto,” declared the Trojan. - -“Here also,” chimed in Herman Boyd. - -The Shark, scornfully indifferent, said nothing. Tom Orkney also was -silent. It was a trifle, but significant: he was with the club, but not -of it. - -Sam’s expression was dubious. The “weather,” forecasted by the camp -boss, seemed to be threatening to break. The low lying clouds had -grown denser in the last quarter hour, and the wind was rising. In -the shelter of the pines its strength had not been manifest, but once -beyond the edge of the woods, nobody could fail to heed the force of -the chilling blasts. Still, it would be as keen along the tote road as -anywhere else. Sam was not losing sight of his motto of “Safety First”; -but at the moment it did not occur to him that harm was likely to -befall half a dozen active, able-bodied youngsters. Yet he hesitated. -The plan had been to follow the road, and it had been approved by Mr. -Kane. - -Step, confident in the support of a majority of the club, started down -the hill. After him trailed the Trojan, Poke, Herman Boyd, and the -Shark. There was nothing for Sam to do but to follow, in company with -Tom Orkney. - -At first progress was easy. The snow was smooth, and though the wind -increased it was at their backs. Presently there was a brisk snow -squall, the tiny flakes driving in a blinding cloud. Step quickened his -pace, and led the party to the shelter of a clump of trees. - -The squall passed, but left a narrowed horizon. The peak of the big -hill, which was to have served as a guide-post, had vanished. There -was even a good-natured dispute as to the general direction in which -it lay. Step, insisting that he was certain of its bearings, set off -again, leading in a détour about the grove. Then came a hill, not -lofty but so steep that he circled its base. Down upon the squad swept -another squall, fiercer than the first. The boys struggled through it, -enjoyed a moment’s respite, and again found themselves in the midst of -swirling, stinging clouds of icy particles. - -Orkney was having trouble with the snow-shoes he had borrowed from Mr. -Kane; the Trojan took a header over a fallen tree; Poke slipped down -a bank. None of the mishaps was serious, but together they served to -bring the party to a halt. - -When the savage gusts subsided for a little the boys moved on. Step, -as guide, did his best to hold a straight line, but failed signally. -The country was broken, irregularly wooded, full of hummocks and -tiny valleys as confusing as a maze. Moreover, the snowfall was -becoming heavier, being so dense at times that it shut off the view as -completely as if it were a fog. - -An over-tight thong made Herman Boyd fall out of line to readjust the -fastenings of one of his snow-shoes; and he was so long in rejoining -the party that Sam passed a word or two of caution. “Don’t straggle” -was his advice. Its effect was seen in a closing of the gaps. By this -time there was no shouting or joking. Nobody was frightened, but it had -dawned upon the most heedless of the club that they had their work cut -out for them. Halts became more frequent; in them there was a tendency -to huddle. - -According to Sam’s reckoning the trail leading from the branch railroad -to the camps crossed the district in which they were, but they had not -stumbled upon it. Still, it could be missed easily; for it was little -traveled, and such drifts as were forming would quickly hide its -traces. Orkney thought that Peter Groche might have taken the short-cut -on his last trip from Plainville, but did not believe that it had been -used by anybody else in a week. Presumably the tote road was to their -left, but its distance was indefinite. As for turning back--well, Sam -considered the idea but briefly. It would involve not only a hard tramp -in the teeth of the storm but also confession of failure. Besides, to -find the camp would be no easy matter; for in many places the party’s -own tracks undoubtedly had been blotted out. - -In a general way Step, as well as Sam, had counted upon keeping the -wind at their backs; but in one of the pauses for rest the Shark called -attention to the fact that his spectacles were dimmed by a thin layer -of snow on the lenses. - -“Been driving straight in my face for the last three minutes,” he -declared. “We’re utterly twisted, or the gale’s shifting every which -way.” - -“Well, I’m doing my best,” Step insisted. “Say, though! If you’re so -clever in turning a watch into all sorts of things, make it a compass, -won’t you? Seems to me I’ve heard it can be done.” - -“Certainly it can,” said the Shark. “Very simple method. Only you’ve -got to be able to see the sun. No chance of that now.” - -There was dismal murmur of assent. Overhead there was no break in the -dark clouds. - -When the next halt was made, debate on the direction of the wind was -resumed. It led to agreement that, as the Shark’s phrase was, it was -shifting every which way. There was agreement, too, that its force was -waxing. And, having reached these not very cheering conclusions, they -could do nothing but trudge on. - -Half an hour later they had impressive evidence of the danger of -their plight. Herman Boyd, falling out again to retie his snow-shoes, -had such difficulty with the stubborn rawhide that he lost sight of -his companions, and, when he tried to overtake them, discovered that -their tracks, made but a few minutes before, had been obliterated by -the driving snow. Meanwhile the others, alarmed by his absence, had -turned back, in open order, at Sam’s suggestion; but, even with this -precaution, covering as much ground as possible, they nearly missed -Herman. Luckily the Trojan, on the extreme left of the line, finally -heard a faint shout, and answering lustily, had the relief, presently, -of seeing the wanderer flounder out of the heart of a blinding cloud of -flakes. - -Then came a council of war. There must be no more straggling. Whatever -happened, all must keep in touch. - -Poke was the next to be found in trouble. Down he slumped in the -snow, and feebly resisted when Sam and Orkney tried to raise him. The -web of one of his snow-shoes had pulled away from the frame, and, -incidentally, had wrenched his ankle. All this involved a halt, while -the Trojan and Step repaired the damaged shoe with a spare strip of -rawhide--it was a slow and painful job for numbed fingers--and Sam -argued zealously with Poke on the exceeding folly of dropping into a -doze. - -When they went on, a change had been made in the procession. Step now -kept close to the crippled Poke, giving over the leadership to Sam, -who, on his part, brought the Shark to the second place in the line. -The Shark, as has been said, was physically the weakest of the club, -but so far had fared better than some of his stouter friends. As before -Orkney acted as rear guard. - -Sam’s plan was simple, but perhaps as wise a plan as he could have -made in the conditions. It was to find the valley of some stream and -follow it out of the hill country. In the lowlands there would be the -chance of reaching some farm, if not a village. Shelter was coming -to be the first great need. The storm was getting worse and worse. -The snow was falling as heavily as ever, the wind blew with almost -hurricane fury, and the cold was intense. It penetrated the heaviest -coats and mufflers. The boys shivered even as they toiled on, pluckily -if weariedly following their guide. - -For a little, Fortune seemed to be kinder. They came to what may once -have been a woods road, which for half a mile gave them a clear, if -winding, path. Then the road ended in a tangled, upland swamp, through -which there was no passage. - -While they slowly circled the obstacle Sam’s brain was busy. It was his -business, evidently, to search for the brook draining the swamp; but -so great was the extent of the marshy tract that at last he gave up the -task, and turned into a ravine leading between low hummocks. After him -trailed a slow procession, its pace regulated by the limping Poke. - -Sam turned to the Shark. - -“How far have we come--if you had to guess?” he asked. - -“Don’t know.” - -“Guess, anyway.” - -The Shark took thought for a moment or two. Then he glanced at his -watch. - -“We’ve been out six hours and----” - -Sam groaned. “Six? I feel as if it was nearer twenty-four!” - -“It’s six. We traveled fast at the start, but we’ve been crawling -lately. Call it twelve miles, all told.” - -“Oh, more than that!” - -“Huh! Guess yourself, then!” - -“But even twelve ought to bring us somewhere. And the farms stretch -some distance this side of Coreytown.” - -“Umph!” was the Shark’s non-committal comment. - -Sam glanced ahead. They were nearing the mouth of the ravine, beyond -which the ground appeared to fall sharply. Again he turned to the Shark. - -“Never saw a fiercer storm,” said he. - -“Blizzard!” - -“May last a couple of days.” - -“They do,” said the Shark grimly, and burrowed deeper in the upturned -collar of his coat. - -“Well, we can’t stand much more like this. We’ll have to stop and try -to do something--rig a windbreak, maybe.” - -“And freeze?” - -Sam’s eye rested for an instant on the laboring Poke. - -“Perhaps we can get a fire going. Anyway, we’ve got----” - -There he broke off, amazed by the eagerness with which the Shark was -rubbing his glasses with gloved fingers. - -“What is it?” Sam asked in haste. - -Out shot the Shark’s arm. “Look yourself! There’s something yonder! Oh, -if only----” - -But his speech was drowned by a jubilant shout. In spite of the -driving snow, and in spite, too, of a veil of intervening branches, Sam -had made out a chimney and the shoulder of a steep roof. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI OLD FRIENDS MEET - - -Down the slope rushed the boys like charging troops bursting into an -enemy’s stronghold. Cold and weariness were forgotten. They dashed -through drifts; they broke through thickets; they swung themselves over -the ruins of an ancient rail-fence. Then they were in a clearing, and -hurling themselves at the door of a little house, against which the -snow lay banked to the window sills. - -Sagging hinges and rusted bolt gave before the attack. The door -yielded, and in poured the club like an irresistible tide. Once within -the shelter, however, the boys pulled up abruptly, glancing about them -with expressions portraying wonder and disappointment. - -At a glance it was plain that the house had not been tenanted for a -long time. The room in which they found themselves was fairly large, -but bare of furnishings, unless a broken chair, an empty box and a -strip of ragged carpet in one corner could be so described. A great -fireplace at one end yawned cold and empty. Dust and cobwebs were -everywhere, and such light as sifted into the place came through breaks -in the windows rather than through the grimy panes remaining intact. -Overhead was a ceiling of rough boards, through whose cracks much snow -had sifted, testifying to the condition of the roof; while beneath -each window a considerable bank of snow had formed. The walls gave -protection, in a measure, from the blasts, but the air had a damp chill -more paralyzing than the cutting wind. - -Sam was the first to rise to the situation. - -“Here, fellows, we’ve got to have a fire!” he sang out. “Herman, take -that axe of yours and go for the old rails in the fence. Step and -Trojan, go with him, and mind you lug in the driest stuff you can -find--if there is anything dry. Shark, help Poke out of his snow-shoes. -Now, Orkney”--he turned to the silent Tom--“you and I’ll tackle the -fine work. Got any matches?” - -Orkney drew a handful from his pocket. “Lucky I was cookee at No. 1,” -said he. “Had to look after the fires, you know.” - -Sam had torn a board from the old box, and with his knife was ripping -off long, curling shavings. He had built them in a neat pyramid on -the hearth, when Step and the Trojan staggered in, their arms full of -billets. They stood, watching Sam closely, while he made careful choice -of their offerings. As he had feared, none of the wood could be called -dry, though some of it was not quite so wet as the rest. - -Poke and the Shark were beating their arms against their bodies. - -“Guess I’ve got a few frosted fingers, all right!” Poke announced -ruefully. - -“Then don’t get too close to the fire at the start,” Sam counseled. -“Now a light, Orkney! Touch her off!” - -Tom’s chilled hands threatened to bungle the task, but Sam, for reasons -of his own, did not offer to assist. He wished Orkney to feel that he -was to be counted a full companion in the adventure. - -Orkney, sheltering a flickering match in his palm, knelt by the -fireplace. Most cautiously he thrust the match into a crevice in the -pile of shavings. A tiny flame shot up. It spread swiftly, the yellow -tongues licking the heavier wood stacked above the kindling. Sam sprang -to the box, and ripped off pieces of the sides. These he deftly placed -on the blazing shavings. Steam and smoke began to rise, and, caught in -a down-draft from the long unused chimney, belched into the room in a -choking cloud. - -Sam again raided the broken box, and Orkney followed his example. One -on each side of the hearth, they fed the fire with strips of board, -till at last the heavier wood was fairly ignited. The chimney by this -time was warming to its work, and drawing fiercely. - -The Shark, rubbing his nose in curiously experimental fashion, was -surveying Poke intently. Suddenly he bent; picked up a handful of snow -from a drift under a window; crossed to Master Green, and without -warning fell to scrubbing that young man’s nose. Poke with a howl -shrank back. - -“What the dickens do you think you’re trying to do?” he demanded -indignantly. - -The Shark shook his head reprovingly. “That’s it--spoil everything! -They say that’s the way to treat a frosted nose, but how am I going to -find out if you won’t stand still?” - -Poke tenderly caressed the feature under discussion. “What do you want -to know for?” he inquired. - -“Because I guess my nose is nipped, too,” said the Shark calmly. “So I -thought I’d see how the treatment worked.” - -Herman Boyd entered, fuel bearing. He brought a report, too, that -between the old fence and a fallen tree near by there need be no lack -of fire-wood. - -Sam cut pieces from the old carpet, and stuffed them into the holes in -the windows. Orkney, taking a hint, replaced the door in position. - -“Say, you two!” Step called out. “You act as if you thought we were -going to make a regular visit.” - -“Maybe we are,” Sam told him. “We’d be crazy to go on while the -blizzard lasts.” - -“Right you are!” Step agreed, but drew a long face. - -For a moment the boys listened to the howl of the gale. Then Poke -settled himself on the floor near the fire. - -“Might as well make yourselves comfortable, fellows,” he remarked. “I’d -rather be here than outside, I tell you!” - -The Shark followed his example, and so did the Trojan and Step. Orkney -and Sam took opposite ends of the semicircle. Poke was smiling a sickly -smile. - -“I believe in making the best of things,” he announced. “I’m not -exactly happy--my ankle hurts and my nose’ll never be the same to -me that it was--but I’m not kicking. I’m glad to be here, as I’ve -explained. But how long do you expect to linger in this bower, Sam?” - -“I think we’ll have to stay all night, anyway.” - -“Huh! Any idea where we are?” - -“Not an idea.” - -“I scouted around a bit,” said Herman. “No sign of a road or other -houses.” - -Sam nodded. “My notion,” he said, “is that we’ve tumbled on some -way-out, back-of-nowhere abandoned farm. It’s been abandoned so many -years that the brush has sprung up all about it. Somehow I don’t -believe it’s near any village. And now that we’re here--well, Safety -First, you know.” - -“That’s right!” chimed in the Trojan. - -“We’ll be safe enough,” Sam went on. “We’ll lay in plenty of wood, and -keep the fire going--and that’s about all we can do.” - -Poke laid a hand on his stomach. “That’s well enough,” said he. “Only -do I hear anybody suggest dinner or supper? If it’s just the same, I’d -like to have ’em both right now.” - -The Shark pulled out a big camp doughnut. “The cook gave me this, bless -him!” he remarked. - -“I ate mine, worse luck!” sighed Herman. - -“And I also,” groaned Poke. “It went ages ago.” - -“Same here!” declared the Trojan. - -Both Sam and Orkney, it proved, had been provident. Each produced a -doughnut. - -“Share and share alike,” Sam ruled. There was some demur from Poke, but -the division was made. In a few moments the last crumb had vanished. - -“My! but that’s just an appetizer!” sighed Poke. - -It occurred to Sam that diversion was needed. “You firemen, rustle in -more wood--a lot of it!” he directed. “Orkney, it looks as if there -were a back room. Let’s explore!” - -The “back room” proved to be a shed-like extension, in worse condition -than the house itself. It yielded, however, a number of mildewed sacks, -a wooden bucket, and a battered iron pot, in which, hung from a crane -in the fireplace, snow could be melted. - -Herman, Step and the Trojan brought in huge armloads of wood. They -declared that it would be needed; that the temperature was falling, and -that the night would be Arctic. - -“Whoof! but it’s awful outside!” Herman avowed. “Bet it’ll hit thirty -below!” - -This, as the boys knew, was by no means improbable. In Plainville -thermometers now and then showed such readings in cold snaps, while -even lower marks had been recorded in the hills. - -Sam built up the fire with generous hand. Its light as well as warmth -was welcome, for the early dusk was closing in. The boys ranged -themselves before the hearth. Coats were stripped off; shoes were -removed, and toes were toasted comfortably. After all, the adventurers -could count themselves lucky. If they had doubts on the point, they had -but to listen to the shriek of the wind and the crackling sound of the -snow driving against the windows. - -There was little talk. Now and then one or two of the party uneasily -shifted position, but the others seemed to be content to sit quietly, -gazing thoughtfully at the fire. The Shark especially was absorbed in -reflections. - -Step, his right hand neighbor and one of the more nervous of the -brotherhood, wriggled his long legs, stretched his arms, turned, and -peered at the impassive Shark. - -“Oh, I say!” he broke out impatiently. “What’s the use of being a -graven image? Come to life, Shark!” - -Very deliberately the youth addressed gave his attention to Step. - -“Huh! I’m very much alive,” he remarked calmly. “I’m doing something -with such brains as I happen to have.” - -“How? What?” - -“I’m thinking.” - -“How we’ll get out of this fix?” - -The Shark frowned. “That would be wasted effort. There’s nothing we can -do till the storm ends. Meanwhile, I entertain myself sensibly.” - -“But how?” Step insisted curiously. - -An instant the Shark hesitated. “I--I don’t know that you’d be -interested.” - -“Hang it! I’d be interested in anything.” - -“Very well, then,” said the Shark. “Visualize a cube!” - -Up went Step’s hands. “Don’t shoot! I’ll come down. Also I’ll bite.” - -“What do you mean?” - -“It’s a catch, isn’t it? Go ahead! Spring your joke!” - -The Shark looked disgusted. “Joke nothing! See here, Step! You know -what a cube is, don’t you? Well, visualizing one means just picturing -it in your mind. Remember the formula, don’t you, for A + B, cubed? -It’s A cubed + 3A squared, B + 3AB squared + B cubed. Now, take numbers -instead of letters--take easy numbers. Call A + B fifteen.” - -“Er--er--all right. It’s fifteen. I don’t object.” - -“Likewise, we’ll call A ten and B five. Therefore the block -representing the cube of A + B will be made up of a cube of A--say, -we’ll call the units inches----” - -“I’m willing.” - -“Then the cube of A,” the Shark went on, “will be a rectangular block, -ten inches in each direction. On three of its faces we place what I may -term flat blocks, each ten inches square and five inches thick--they’re -the A squared B fellows. Then come what we’ll describe as the long -blocks, five inches two ways and ten inches the other. Finally, there’s -the cube of B, a block five inches high, five inches wide, five inches -thick. Putting these together, and picturing each clearly in mind----” - -Step’s long arm shot out. His hand fell on the Shark’s shoulder. - -“You villain! You traitor! Doing stunts like that--in vacation! You -ought to be----” - -But the Shark didn’t wait to hear the punishment he deserved. He shook -off Step’s hand. He glared at the critic. - -“Course I’m not fooling with any kindergarten fifteen!” he cried hotly. -“Just mentioned that to try to get down to your understanding. But I -have been working ninety-seven, and I tell you----” - -But what the Shark had to tell was to remain his secret. From without -the house came sounds, clearly to be distinguished from the tumult of -the gale. - -Blows were falling upon the door. The boys sprang to their feet, but -before they could respond to the summons the door was thrust back, and -into the room reeled a man, covered with snow from head to foot. After -him hobbled a second man, like the first plainly in sore straits from -his battle with the blizzard, but holding fast to the end of a rope, -which was passed about the leader’s body and knotted securely below his -shoulder blades. - -From the club rose a shout, which mingled wonder and welcome. For the -man who held the rope was Lon Gates, and the man he drove before him -was Peter Groche. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII PETER’S GRUDGE - - -Groche, stumbling forward, pitched in a heap on the floor. Lon, -staggering to the wall, clung to it for support. - -“You--you fellows--here--all of you!” he gasped. - -“All of us--safe and sound,” cried Sam, and tried to lead him toward -the fire. Lon resisted. - -“No, no! Take--take it easy. I--I’m better off here for a while. -But--but what you doin’--doin’----” his voice trailed weakly. - -In a dozen sentences Sam told him. Lon’s eyes opened wide. - -“Wal, wal! And the storm catched you! And such a whopper of a howler of -a storm, gee whillikens!” - -“We know about it. But where did you come from?” - -Lon pulled off his cap, and bending down, scooped up a handful of snow -from the drift under the window. - -“Wait a minute--fust aid treatment fust!” said he; and began to rub his -face and ears. “No; lemme be! You--you can’t help me. I’m like--like an -old cat--got to lick my own scratches.” - -Perforce Sam desisted. Lon, working deliberately and carefully, winced -now and then. - -“Got through the hide in places,” he admitted. “This ain’t no night for -a polar bear to be out. Wow! but that wind did sting and cut!” - -Sam laid finger on a clean gash in Lon’s coat. “Wind didn’t do that, -did it?” - -“No,” said Lon; but he limped to Groche and studied the prostrate -figure for a moment before he went on: - -“No; knife done it--’twas his only good jab at me.” - -Lon drew a little nearer the fire, but kept a wary eye on Groche. His -voice was gaining strength, though he still spoke huskily. - -“Wal, three of us started from the camp, you know. Stub picked up the -trail. It led north. That meant the critter was steerin’ for the -Canady line. But the storm turned him back--that’s how I got him.” - -“You alone?” asked Sam eagerly. - -“I’m comin’ to that. One time it seemed ’sif the blow was goin’ to -spoil our chances, for it drifted the trail over; but it headed -Groche off, too. He knew he couldn’t buck a blizzard. So, finally, he -give up and made a ’bout face. We three’d separated--spread out, you -know--lookin’ for his tracks. So there wa’n’t nobody with me when, -all of a sudden, I clumb over a little rise, and there was Mr. Peter -leggin’ it before the wind for all he was wuth. And I was right atop of -him, ’most. And then I got this.” And Lon touched the cut in his coat. - -“But you had a pistol, hadn’t you?” - -Lon’s smile was grim. “Kane had seen that I was heeled proper, but I’d -sot my heart on roundin’ up my man without makin’ a sieve of him. Why, -I’d even took a rope along to hog-tie him. So I didn’t shoot. I jest -clubbed the revolver and patted him over the head with it till the butt -broke off. By that time, though, he was ready to quit.” - -“Great Scott, but what a fight it must have been!” - -“Wal, ’twas quite some. What with him tryin’ to carve me up, and me -doin’ a bass drum solo on his head--oh, wal, you can figger out as well -as I can what happened. I was too busy to be takin’ picters. But I’ll -say this for him: he fit like a wildcat.” - -“How about your end of it?” - -Lon shook his head. “Sam, I’m a man o’ peace. And I got enough of the -other thing to-day to last me till I’m ninety-eight and come into my -second wind. But that’s all I know about the scrap.” - -For a space nobody spoke. Every one of the boys was picturing for -himself that desperate grapple of two strong men, struggling for -mastery in the midst of the raging storm. - -“But afterward--after you’d downed him--what happened?” queried Sam at -last. - -“Mighty little--for a while. I was hopin’ the lumberjacks, missin’ me, -would scout back and pick us up, but they didn’t come. Reckon they -were havin’ troubles o’ their own. Finally, seein’ as how keepin’ -still meant freezin’, I tried to work toward the camp. But bless you, -boys! it wa’n’t no use; I couldn’t find my own tracks. And I’d got all -tangled on direction. So I reasoned with Groche for a spell--he knows -them woods better’n he knows any book. I roped him the way he’s fixed -now, and told him, ‘Giddap! Le’s go somewhere.’” - -“And then----?” Sam urged. - -“Yes; tell us!” chimed in two or three of the others. - -Thus encouraged, Lon told his story, and a strange story it was of -captive forced to guide captor; of slow and painful plodding through -growing drifts; of halts in the lee of wood or hill, while the storm -increased, and the wind blew more fiercely, and the cold deepened. -After a time he felt sure that Groche, while avoiding the camp, had -some other refuge in mind. - -“He’s brute enough,” Lon explained, “to have the brute’s instinct for -makin’ for a burrow. So I give him his head, and let him go it.” - -How long they toiled on, or how many miles they covered, Lon had no -notion. The feeble light of afternoon faded into the gloom of night. -Yet Groche seemed to be sure of his course. Lon even fancied that there -was a slight increase in the pace. And then, of a sudden, he saw the -flicker of the fire through a window of the old house. - -“Then you’ve no more idea than we where we are?” said Sam. - -“No more idea than----” Lon began, but broke off abruptly, as his -glance, ranging the room, fell upon something which caught his -attention. He stepped close to one of the walls, peered at it sharply, -and gave an odd laugh. - -“Wal, I’ll be jiggered! Who’d ’a’ thought it? Lookee here, boys! Stone -work part way up, then wood! Say, but it beats cat fightin’!” - -“What do you mean?” - -Lon turned to the group by the fire. He was grinning in spite of his -weariness. - -“I mean this is the house old Calleck built up in the woods, the house -where old Wallowby fit the bear. So that’s proof of the story--see?” - -“Proof!” cried the Shark skeptically. - -“Why not? Said there was such a house, didn’t I? Sure I did, and now I -go and produce it. Rest follows as a matter of course.” - -“Rats!” snapped the Shark in disgust. - -“Rats nothing!” jeered Step. “All you’ve got to do, Shark, is to--to -visualize it--yes, that’s the scheme. Take a dose of your own medicine -for keeping the brain clear, can’t you?” - -“Bosh!” growled the Shark; and in high dudgeon turned his back on -the company. It happened that, as a result of the movement, he faced -Groche, upon whom unwittingly he trained his gaze, while he meditated -darkly upon the extreme unreason of his clubmates. - -Groche had been lying like a log on the floor, but now he stirred -restlessly. He raised himself on an elbow. For a moment he tried, as he -had tried once before, to stare down the unblinking Shark; and failed -as completely as he had failed on the former occasion. He struggled to -a sitting position. He raised an arm, as if to ward off the hypnotic -influence of the steady eyes behind the big glasses. And he broke into -speech, incoherent, savage, and terror-stricken. - -Lon limped forward, but Sam was before him, catching Groche’s arm. At -this the ruffian turned upon him. - -“You--you, I’ll get ye, if I hang for it!” he shouted. “You’re at the -bottom of it all! You lied about me, and you set that old bloodhound, -Bates, on me!” - -“But you’re mistaken; I didn’t,” Sam said earnestly. - -“You done it, you done it!” - -Sam glanced at Lon. “I guess you reasoned out the truth of it,” said he. - -Groche swore viciously, tried to rise; groaned, and sank back to the -floor. - -“You lied about me, and threw that job o’ yourn on me!” he snarled. -“I’ll get even with ye, I’ll get even with ye yet, if I die for’t!” - -Lon wagged his head sagaciously. “Jesso, Sam, jesso! Them’s the -undoubted sentiments o’ Peter Groche, Esq. Once--twice, comin’ along, -I tried to talk with him, but all I could make out was that he’d got -it in for you for keeps. And as for the why of it--wal, I dunno’s -you’re ready to have that talked over in open meetin’.” And Lon winked -meaningly. - -“Oh!” Because Sam understood, his tone was startled. “Oh! That?” - -“Exactly! The beginnin’ o’ the trouble,” said Lon, and winked again. - -“The be--the beginning----” Sam repeated doubtfully. - -Perhaps Lon felt himself justified in dwelling on his own shrewdness. - -“Fact is, Sam,” said he, “you’re kind o’ bothered, because you’re still -half calculatin’ on what a reasonable bein’ would ’a’ done. But Groche, -as I’ve told you, ain’t reasonable--not our kind o’ reasonable. Jest -bear that in mind. Allow that he got it into his crooked brain that he -hated you--hatin’s his long suit, I reckon. Now, you’re thinkin’--bein’ -what you are, you can’t help thinkin’ it--that when nothin’ much -happened to Peter, and they let him go, he ought to have realized -he’d been mistaken, somehow, in draggin’ you in. But that ain’t Peter -Groche’s method. He’d got you in his bad books, and there you stayed. -It’s all plain as print to me, son. It’s one idee at a time for Peter, -and he ain’t the sort o’ feller to go seekin’ further light, or askin’ -the questions a decent man would ask. What if he was let out? He’s -been put in, and that was all he thought about. So he ’tended to all -the sculduggery about our place--which was bad enough. But he hated a -mite too hard, and went a mile too far, when he played firebug; and now -we’ve got him for something that’ll spell state’s prison for him. And -that’s why I was so dead sot on bringin’ him in alive.” - -“I see,” said Sam gravely. - -Now, to this conversation there had been a group of eager, if -puzzled, listeners. Save for Groche’s reference to Major Bates as a -“bloodhound,” and the discussion of his brief confinement, no clue to -the mystery had been given to the boys; and these matters carried a -suggestion so unexpected and so surprising that none of them readily -grasped it. When Sam said, “I see,” two or three of the others moved -uneasily. - -“Jiminy! I don’t!” cried Poke explosively. “I don’t want to seem prying -or inquisitive, but you’ve got me guessing. It’s worse than Greek; for -that I can dig out, if I have to. But there’s no vocabulary to help -here.” - -Sam’s glance went from one to another of his friends. He read in the -face of each something very like the thought Poke had put into words. -He drew a long breath. - -“Fellows! I’ll tell you. I meant to keep it a secret, but I guess -you’re entitled to know. What Lon referred to as the beginning of the -trouble was--well, it was the--er--er--the accident to Major Bates. I -shot at what I thought was a deer in Marlow woods, and I hit the Major!” - -“Whew!” - -“You did that, Sam!” - -“Shot the Major!” - -“Jupiter crickets, but I wouldn’t have been in your shoes for a farm!” - -So the club voiced its astonishment. Sam waited for the hubbub to -subside. Then said he: - -“I intended to say nothing to anybody, but when Groche was -arrested--why, there was only one square thing to do. The old Major was -bully; so was my father. Groche was turned loose, and I supposed that -was the end of the story. But then things began to happen--you know -well enough what they were, and how we explained ’em.” - -Two or three nodded; as many more stole repentant glances at Tom Orkney. - -“We made a bad mistake,” Sam went on. “I won’t dwell on all the -mistake led to; but I will say that it seems to me a clear case of one -blunder brought about by another. If I hadn’t shot the Major, there -wouldn’t have been any raids on our barn--and we’re certain Groche -was the raider: so far Lon’s theory is backed by facts. I blundered -by believing somebody else did the tricks, and that led to the third -blunder in jumping to the conclusion that the somebody smashed the club -window that night. Wait a minute, though!” He turned to Orkney. “You’re -following this, aren’t you? You get the combination all right?” - -“Yes,” said Orkney simply. - -“There was a complication that night. Remember the cap of yours that -Step threw over Mrs. Benton’s fence?” - -“I remember it--but I never saw it again.” - -“Well, we found it outside the club. What we thought about it was -another of the mistakes. Not till a good while later did we learn that -Mrs. Benton had put it in her rubbish can, and somebody prowling -through the alley had carried it off.” - -“Groche--sure’s you’re a foot high!” commented Lon. “He’s always -skulkin’ through the back-streets. Pinched it, didn’t you, Peter?” - -But Groche, though stirred by Lon’s toe to make answer, merely growled -inarticulately. - -“Well, I think we can safely assume Groche did take it,” Sam continued. -“Even at first the Shark raised a doubt----” - -“Doubt!” broke in the Shark. “Huh! Don’t you fellows know an absolute -demonstration when you see one? What I proved was that that stone was -thrown by a grown man, and a strong man, to boot!” - -“Well, it’s all part of the chain,” said Sam. “One thing is linked with -the next. If I hadn’t shot the Major, Groche wouldn’t have had a grudge -against me, you fellows wouldn’t have been mixed up in the trouble, we -wouldn’t have had reason to make a trip to the camp, we wouldn’t be -here storm bound. And--and”--he glanced at Orkney--“and things that -have happened wouldn’t have happened.” - -A readier fellow, a more tactful fellow, might have found in Sam’s -words something very like an overture for full reconciliation. More or -less clearly everybody understood the situation. All eyes were upon -Orkney, some openly, some covertly; but even in the flickering light of -the fire Tom’s face bore a curiously set and stolid expression. - -Poke relieved the tension. - -“Ha, ha!” he laughed. “Jiminy! but I can’t get over it, Sam! Think of -you going out and potting Major Bates, of all men! And then think of -you keeping it a secret from the crowd! That’s funnier yet. But the -funniest thing of all is that we didn’t dope it out. Why, there hasn’t -been one of us that didn’t feel you were acting as if you had something -on your mind. Yet with all the Shark’s calculations and with all my -good common sense, we were as unsuspecting as babes in the woods!” - -“Common sense! Poke’s common sense!” roared Step. “Say, that’s the -richest joke sprung in a hundred years!” - -Peter Groche, aroused by the shout which met this sally, lifted his -head. He stared evilly at Sam, and his features were contorted as -grotesquely as a gargoyle’s. - -“He tried to plant the job on me, I tell ye!” he growled hoarsely. -“Boy, I’ll get ye for that--I’ll get ye if I swing for’t!” - -“Wal, I guess you’ll have to wait and do a little time fust in a cell,” -quoth Lon. - -Peter Groche made no reply. His head had sunk to the floor. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII SAM MAKES CHOICE - - -The long night had dragged to an end. A pale glimmer at the windows -told of the coming of a clouded dawn, while outside the old house the -storm raged in unabated violence. - -Sam, awakening from a doze, replenished the fire. The other boys were -still sleeping, each in the posture which, to his notion, minimized -the hardship of a bed of rough planks. The Shark was rolled up like -a ball; Step lay flat on his back, his long arms and legs sprawling; -the Trojan had pillowed his head on Herman Boyd’s shoulder; Poke, his -forehead resting on his arm, was breathing very regularly and audibly; -Tom Orkney, a little apart from the others, was stirring restlessly. - -Lon was sitting beside Peter Groche, for whom the remnants of the old -carpet and the bags from the shed served as a mattress. Peter was -either ill or shamming artfully. Lon and the boys had had a hard time -with him during the night; for though at intervals he lay in what -seemed to be a stupor, these had been separated by quarter-hours and -half-hours in which he writhed and struggled and cried out deliriously. -They had done the little they could for him; and Lon had remained on -duty as combined guard and nurse. - -Sam dropped beside his ally. - -“Well, how is he?” he whispered. - -“Dunno,” Lon answered dubiously. “If he was anybody else, I’d call him -a mighty sick man. Bein’ Peter Groche, mebbe he’s soldierin’. He’d be -powerful glad to get away--don’t lose sight o’ that.” - -Sam bent over the suspect. Groche’s face was flushed; his breathing was -labored. - -“Certainly he’s feverish, Lon. And he couldn’t feign that, could he?” - -“Umph! I ain’t no doctor.” - -“Wish you were!” - -“So do I,” said Lon. “As ’tis, I dunno--the pair of us went through -enough to send some folks to hospital, what with that rassle and then -the tramp through the drifts. And I did hammer him up--had to, or -he’d ’a’ done for me. Clear case o’ survival of the fittest--feller -that fit hardest, you know. And I ain’t in what you’d call the pink -o’ condition myself. Sam, I’m as stiff as a bunch o’ ramrods, and I -ain’t got a j’int that feels as if it had been greased in a coon’s age. -That’s one trouble--I don’t dare take chances with him. If he got two -jumps’ lead, I’d never catch him. And for all his takin’s on, and his -wild yellin’, and them fever signs--wal, jest remember he’s as tough as -an oak knot and as crafty as a fox. And he’s got the biggest kind o’ -cause to bolt, if he can. Arson’s a state prison job, sonny.” - -“So I suppose. Only”--Sam hesitated--“only that wouldn’t be ground for -failing to call a doctor or--or carrying him to one.” - -Lon listened for a moment to the shriek of the gale. - -“You’re right enough, Sam,” he admitted. “But he can’t be took out--not -in a blizzard like this, ’specially as we don’t know where to take him. -And as for tryin’ to go for a doctor--wal, it’d be risky, mighty risky. -I ain’t in shape, but I wouldn’t dare leave that wildcat with you boys, -anyhow. And as for sendin’ any of you, that’d be a big risk, too. -’Tain’t ’sif we knew where we were, you know; and I’d hate to take -chances o’ losin’ worth-while youngsters for the sake o’ that critter.” - -“But can’t anything be done?” - -“We can wait for the storm to blow itself out.” - -“But how long will that be?” - -“Dunno. The big blizzard of ’88 done business for three days.” - -Sam rose. He tiptoed to the door, and peered through a yawning crack -beside it. Then he came back to Lon. - -“I can’t see much change, except that the clouds are not quite so low -or so heavy. And it’s colder than ever.” - -“Like enough! Nor’easter shiftin’ to nor’wester.” - -Sam took thought, and while he deliberated, Step awoke, sat up, yawned -loudly. Poke followed suit, and in a moment more Herman Boyd and the -Trojan were rubbing their eyes. Then the Shark uncoiled himself. Last -of all Orkney shook off his slumbers. - -Sam turned again to Lon. - -“Look here!” he said in a low tone. “We can’t stay here three days.” - -“Probably we won’t have to.” - -“That’s too uncertain. We’ll have to do something. We haven’t a crumb -of food, and we’re half starved.” - -Lon nodded sympathetically. “I know, I know! If I had a hedgehog here, -right now, I’d eat him raw, quills and all.” - -Again Sam studied the flushed face of Peter Groche. - -“Lon, there _is_ something to do!” he said. “We’ve got to do it. We’ve -got to send out an expedition for help.” - -“But, Sam, I tell you I ain’t fit, and----” - -“You’re to stay here, and watch Groche.” - -“But who’ll go?” - -“Two of the crowd.” - -“Countin’ yourself one of ’em?” - -“Certainly! And I’ll pick the other.” - -With an effort Lon got upon his feet. He limped across the room and -back again. - -“No use, Sam!” he groaned. “I’d stall worse’n a balkin’ mule in the -fust forty yards. No; you’ll have to give up the notion.” - -“But my notion is that you’re to stay here, and watch Groche.” - -“All right--but you’ll stay, too. I’d be plumb crazy to let you go. -’Tain’t ’sif we had the lay o’ the land. If we had, ’twouldn’t be so -much like startin’ from nowhere for nowhere, in a blizzard, and with -the thermometer ’way below zero.” - -“But we do know where we’ll start from--that is, we have a general -idea.” - -“Eh?” - -“Wait a minute!” said Sam. “This is Calleck’s house, isn’t it?” - -“Ain’t any doubt o’ that, but----” - -“But Calleck’s house stands near the South Fork. Don’t you remember -what the lumberman said? Don’t you know he told us Calleck started to -build with stone, but finished the house any way he could? And doesn’t -that description fit this place?” - -“It sure does. This is Calleck’s cabin, fast enough. Still----” - -Again Sam interrupted: “You know--in a general way, as I say--how the -South Fork runs?” - -“Y-e-s,” Lon admitted reluctantly. “Empties into Blake’s River right at -Coreytown.” - -“Exactly! And the lumberjack said the house was about ten miles from -the camp. Now, I’ve been trying to figure out the map, as the Shark -would figure it, and I don’t believe we’re three miles from the -village.” - -The Shark had caught the mention of his name; also he had grasped the -problem presented. - -“Three miles?” he repeated. “Huh! good enough--as a guess. Of course, I -don’t call that figuring. If you’ll give me the true distances----” - -“Never mind, Shark!” said Sam promptly. “We’ll waive decimals and let -it go at three miles, more or less. Then all we’ll have to do will be -to find the South Fork, and follow the valley down-stream. And there’s -a doctor at Coreytown, I’m sure; and the people won’t have to be asked -twice to help us out.” - -Lon rubbed his chin. “Umph! There is a grain o’ sense in the scheme. -Say, though, Sam! Where’s that Safety First idea you uster have on your -mind?” - -“It’s there now--Safety First for the whole crowd!” - -Lon glanced at Groche. The light was strengthening, and the alarming -appearance of the man’s face was undeniable. A very sick man was Peter -Groche, at least to the eye of a layman. - -“Jiminy, but something’s got to be tried!” Lon confessed. “And -followin’ the South Fork would be different from stragglin’ aimless. I -dunno, I dunno!” - -Sam pressed his advantage. “I do know, then. And Lon! The quicker I -start, the better.” - -“I reckon that’s true,” said Lon slowly. “Yes; if you’re dead sot to -go, there’s no good in lingerin’. And you’re as husky as any of the -boys. But who’ll you be takin’ with you?” - -As one the club stepped forward, and volunteered. - -“Choose me, Sam!” - -“No; I’m the one!” - -“Here, I’m your man!” - -“Say! I’ve got a right to go!” - -“Cut it out! He wants me, I tell you!” - -They rained their appeals upon him, the Shark last but not the least -earnest: - -“Take me, and I’ll figure out anything you want. I don’t care if the -thing’s all guesses and unknown quantities!” - -But Sam met the eager glances of none of his friends. His eyes were on -Orkney, standing aloof and gravely observant. - -There was a tense pause. Then said Sam, very quietly, yet with a ring -in his voice: - -“Sorry I can’t say yes to everybody. But--but whenever you’re ready, -Orkney, we’ll make the plunge.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX SQUARING THE ACCOUNT - - -Imagine a winding valley, sparsely wooded, deeply banked with snow; a -valley through which the gale sweeps with unchecked fury, whipping the -bare limbs of the trees, catching up the crest of one shifting drift -and sending it, a swirling mass of white, to build up another snowy -ridge, in its turn to be leveled by the caprice of the storm; a valley -bare of habitations, as lonely and deserted, apparently, as if it were -buried in the depths of a great forest. Such was the course along which -Sam and Tom Orkney fought their way. The cold was intense. The wind -cut like a knife. Its force was so great that, when the windings of -the valley forced them to face it, they could make progress but at a -snail’s pace. - -By Sam’s reckoning they had made about a mile of their journey. How -long a time it had taken he did not know--an hour certainly, perhaps -much more. There had been frequent halts, both for consultation and -rest; for here and there thickets were obstacles to the advance, while -both boys felt the weakening effect of their fast. They were not -acutely hungry, but each was aware of a dully persistent sense of a -void beneath his belt. - -Studying the storm, however, Sam had caught a gleam of encouragement. -Surely the clouds were riding higher, and were showing signs of -breaking. The wind was not increasing. It was unlike the rising and -falling squalls of the day before; for it was now a steady, hard blow. -This change, along with the drop in temperature, convinced him that Lon -had been right in assuming that the gale had hauled into the northwest, -with a promise of clearing, if not warmer, weather. Though the air was -full of flakes, caught up by the wind, the snowfall had almost ceased. - -Sam put his mouth close to Orkney’s ear. - -“Guess it’s blowing itself out!” he shouted. - -Orkney nodded. “My notion, too. But it won’t quit for a while yet.” - -“Sure! Nothing for us but to plug ahead.” - -And they “plugged.” The slang fitted the case. Orkney’s foot caught -on a hidden root, and he pitched forward on hands and knees. The snow -yielded under his weight; an unsuspected bank revealed itself; and Tom, -the center of a small avalanche, slid a dozen yards toward the frozen -surface of the South Fork. - -Sam, hurrying after him, helped him to regain his feet. “Thanks!” said -Orkney, and shook himself like a Newfoundland emerging from a swim. - -In five minutes he had his chance to reciprocate. Sam caught a bad fall -over a boulder, barely hidden by a drift. - -“Glory! That shook me up!” Sam confessed. “’Twouldn’t be a good thing -for a fellow to be out here alone and get hurt, eh?” - -“No,” said Orkney. - -“But, pulling together, we’ll pull through!” cried Sam, and clapped him -on the shoulder. - -They went on, but only to share a mishap. The snow had bridged a brook -running down to the Fork; and the arch caved under them. Down they went -to their armpits in the snow. They scrambled out of the hole uninjured -but breathless. - -“We--we’ll look out for those places,” Sam panted; but in spite -of their watchfulness he soon was caught in a worse trap. Another -gully--and deeper--lay beneath a smooth surface. Sam, being slightly -in the lead, vanished almost at the feet of the astonished Orkney, who -dropped to his knees, groped in what was like a white whirlpool, and -was lucky enough to lay hold of Sam’s collar. Then, by dint of much -tugging and hauling, aided from below by the victim of the accident, he -at last succeeded in rescuing his companion from the depths. - -This time both boys were glad to lie on the drift for a time, while -they were regaining wind and strength. Sam was the first to speak. - -“Good turn you did me then. Regular cavern down there. Rather think -there was water at the bottom of it.” - -“Might be,” said Orkney. “Maybe rapids in the brook--they don’t freeze -up often.” - -Sam gave his companion a friendly dig in the ribs. - -“Guess that came near evening up a little thing I did for you -once--that pond business.” - -“Nonsense!” said Orkney gruffly. “Come on! Let’s move!” - -He got upon his feet, and Sam followed the example. - -“Right! Mustn’t let ’em get tired waiting back at Calleck’s old house. -Wonder what they’re doing now.” - -“Envying me the chance you gave me!” said Orkney sharply; and plowed -ahead without waiting for a reply. - -Sam trudged after him. No doubt Orkney had spoken no more than the -truth. The members of the club, tarrying with Lon and Peter Groche, -would envy the adventurers. Some of them, Sam feared, might find it -hard to forgive the preference he had shown Orkney; but he did not -repent his choice. Physically, neither Poke nor the Shark was fit -for such a forced march; Step was not a powerful fellow; Herman Boyd -and the Trojan were sturdy chaps, with plenty of grit, but somewhat -dependent upon good leadership. Orkney, on the other hand, not only -had dogged resolution and persistence, but also worked well in “double -harness,” as Sam phrased it. He was as far from yielding too much -as from claiming too much. Though he might lack certain agreeable -qualities, he was showing sound mettle under strain. - -If Sam did not regret his selection of a companion, still less did he -question the venture they were making. As he reasoned out the plight of -the party, there was more than the condition of Peter Groche to warrant -the expedition. As things were, two or three days might pass before -anybody realized that the club had gone astray in the woods. Mr. Kane -would suppose the boys had followed the tote road to Coreytown, and had -reached the village; while the people there had had no warning that the -party was on the way, and so would have no cause to send out searchers -for the wanderers. - -“Clear case of having to help ourselves,” Sam reflected; and pressed on -determinedly. - -But it was slow work, exhausting and taking toll of brain as well as -muscle. Sam was no longer reckoning time or distance. Sometimes he led; -sometimes Orkney. Often both halted, and, dropping in the snow, lay -there till one or the other staggered to his feet, and gave a hand to -his comrade. - -They still kept to the valley, but by degrees were drawing away -from the stream and climbing the right bank on a long diagonal. -This resulted not so much from intention as from various obstacles -encountered along the lower slope. The higher ground seemed to be -clearer, the drifts not so deep. Once they came to a long stretch, -where the gale had almost swept away the snow. Here they made easier -progress, though it was far from rapid. In spite of their exertions the -cold had laid numbing hold upon them, and their limbs were heavy as -lead. - -It had come to be a question of endurance, of tenacity as well as -courage. - -Their danger was great. In their plight they had to fight a constant -temptation to pause over-long in the partly sheltered hollows among the -drifts. There was another temptation to close their eyes and burrow -deeper in the snow; but always one or the other roused to the fatal -peril of yielding. Now it was Sam, and again it was Orkney, who shook -off the numbing spell of the storm, and dragged the other from his -resting place in the snow. - -There could be no turning back. Each understood that they must push on -at all hazards. - -Both Orkney and Sam had heard tales of lives lost in the great blizzard -of 1888, and other tales of men perishing in storms by no means so -furious or prolonged as that famous tempest. Hardly a winter passed -without claiming its victims even in the thickly settled region about -Plainville; and though these unfortunates for the most part were thinly -clad, poorly nourished tramps or human derelicts, there were not -lacking instances of able-bodied men losing their way and succumbing to -exposure. And here was a storm, not quite equaling the great blizzard, -perhaps, yet accompanied by quite as bitter cold. - -So, at least, the boys were misled by no false estimate of their -desperate straits. Dulled though their senses might be, they did not -lose grasp of the truth that they must struggle on and on, so long as -strength remained to put one foot before the other. - -Yet, though they but vaguely perceived it, a slight change for the -better was taking place in the weather. - -Overhead there were rifts in the clouds. To the northwest a patch of -pale blue sky showed for a moment; was lost; reappeared, and grew in -size. But the gale still blew strongly, if not with quite its earlier -savage fury; and there was no rise in temperature. - -They toiled on doggedly. Still veering slightly to the right, they came -closer and closer to the summit of the ridge. Finally they gained it. -Beyond was a broader valley. - -Sam clutched Orkney’s arm. - -“Look!” he gasped. “Yonder--a house! See it? Not a mile away!” - -“There’s another--nearer--lower down!” cried Tom. - -Sam gazed hungrily in the direction in which the other pointed. - -“I see it! We can make it! Hur-hurrah!” - -“Hur-hurrah!” echoed Orkney; but he caught at Sam’s arm, as Sam had -caught at his. For a moment they clung to each other, swaying with -weakness, dazed a little, it may be, by the sudden brightening of their -hopes. - -“Let--let’s rest a bit,” said Sam unsteadily. “Then--then we’ll go -ahead. Noth-nothing can stop us now!” - -“Not when we can see smoke whipping from that chimney!” - -“Sure! Smoke means fire--and people--and everything!” - -“And almost within arm’s reach!” - -In fact, the house with the smoking chimney was a weary distance from -them; but unexpected help was nearer at hand. For, while they still -stood gazing into the broad valley, a curious procession emerged from a -clump of woods at the bottom of the hill. It was a long line of yoked -oxen, pair following pair through the snow, while about them floundered -shouting men, urging them on with whip and goad. - -Sam’s voice rose in an exultant cry. “See that! Whole neighborhood -turned out to break roads! Come on, Tom; come on!” - -But Orkney, clutching his arm the tighter, held him back. - -“Wait a minute! I’ve got to tell you something. I want to tell it -now--while we’re alone.” - -“Oh! another time----” - -“There’ll be no other time as good,” Tom insisted. “Look here, Parker! -I’ve never hit it off with you, with your crowd. We’ve jarred each -other. You didn’t like me; I didn’t like you. But now I’ve seen your -bunch in trouble, and I’ve seen how you stick together through thick -and thin. And your fellows have been fair to me.... I’ve never had a -crowd like that. I didn’t believe there could be such a crowd.... No; -don’t try to pull away! You’ve got to hear me! I started back with -you, because that seemed to be the sensible thing to do. I expected -the fellows would roast me, snub me, rub it in that I’d been a fool -to bolt. I meant to stand it and say nothing; but back in Plainville -I’d get even, fast enough.... Well, if I kept quiet, I saw things. It -just forced itself on me, after a while, that maybe I hadn’t got along -with you because I didn’t know how to get along with anybody.... I -heard what you said about your mistakes and the crowd’s mistakes, and I -understood. Bother all that, though! I know I’ve made enough mistakes -of my own.... Hold on! There’s one thing more, and it’s the biggest -thing of all--to me. Every one of your fellows wanted to come with you -on this trip, but you chose me. It was the biggest thing you could -have done for me. It squared the account--and more.... And that’s all -I’ve got to tell you, except that the slate’s clean, so far as I am -concerned; and that I won’t worry you or your crowd. I’m going back to -Plainville, and I’m going to take my medicine. And I reckon you won’t -hear me whine.” - -Sam, genuinely embarrassed yet honestly pleased and relieved, tried to -escape the restraining hand. - -“You--you bet I won’t, Tom!” he said awkwardly but kindly. “No danger -of that! You’ve proved the stuff that’s in you--the gang knows it as -well as I do. And--and after this day--I don’t believe you’ll find -things in Plainville so hard, after all.” - -Then he freed himself, and started down the hill. The men in the road -caught sight of the figures on the ridge, and raised a welcoming hail. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX IN FULL SETTLEMENT - - -Plainville was on the last day of the nine traditionally allotted to -discussion of affairs of high interest or importance. - -The town had been stirred by the story of the adventures of Sam and -his friends, and the boys, a good deal to their surprise, had found -themselves treated like heroes. Plainville had had a taste of the big -storm--huge drifts still rose in many places--and was ready to give -full credit for plucky endurance of the hardships, both of the club’s -wanderings to the old Calleck house and of the forced march of Sam and -Orkney to the settlements; while the dash of a rescue party to the -stone house and its return with the other members of the club, and Lon -and the stricken Peter Groche, formed another chapter which caught the -public fancy. - -Groche was still in Coreytown, under treatment by doctors and guard -by officers. The event proved that he had not been shamming that night -when Lon watched him with suspicious eye. A very sick man, indeed, was -Peter for a few days; but now tidings had come that, thanks to a rugged -frame and a vigorous constitution, he was beginning to rally, with -every prospect that, presently, he would be well enough to stand trial -on the very grave charge of arson. Some doubt was expressed, to be -sure, of his mental condition; but the chances were strongly in favor -of his retirement behind the walls either of prison or asylum. At all -events, Plainville heartily endorsed the opinion of Major Bates, and -counted itself well rid of its least desirable citizen. - -The Major, it is to be related, took keen delight in Sam’s version -of the happenings in the woods, and learning, incidentally, that -the secret of his wounds had become public property--at least, the -property of the club--invited the boys to dinner, in order, as he -explained, that he might present his side of the case. For the club it -was an occasion of impressive state and ceremony, but the Major was -a delightful host, quickly put them at their ease, told lively tales -of war and peace, and finally made a speech which brought out three -rousing cheers for Sam Parker and three times three for the orator. - -Tom Orkney was at the dinner. The Major invited him, along with the -rest and quite as a matter of course. And Tom, though his manner was -reserved, didn’t fail to enter into the spirit of the occasion. - -To tell the truth, his reception, in general, had been beyond his -expectations. Had he been older and more experienced, he might better -have understood that little heed is given to an old story when a new -story is being told. Tom Orkney, runaway, was an old story; Tom Orkney, -joint adventurer with the club, was a new story. Moreover, Little -Perrine had been singing his praises, and Sam and his friends were -losing no opportunity to proclaim his pluck and grit. So, when school -opened after the holidays, Orkney, to his bewilderment, found himself -enjoying a degree of favor in curious contrast to the chill reception -for which he had nerved himself. - -Lon Gates still limped slightly, but otherwise appeared to be none -the worse for his battle with Peter Groche. Lon was not boastful. He -pretended to make a joke of his capture of the desperado; and, in -private, confided to Sam that he felt a bit like a fellow who had been -able to bring in a stolen horse, but hadn’t known enough to lock the -stable door before the horse was stolen. - -“So I reckon I ain’t quite so much of a genooine Shylock Holmes as I -let on to be,” he added. “Course, as the old lady said when she broke -her false teeth on a hick’rynut but didn’t swallow ’em, things might -be wuss, but then again they might be better. I ought to ’a’ had that -Groche locked up for stealin’ the wrench, when I had him dead to -rights; but I didn’t know enough. If I’d foreseen what was comin’---- -Oh, wal, if I’d been able to do that, folks’d been dragging me off to -be President of the United States, instead o’ lettin’ me stay here to -help your father try to keep you in order.” - -Mr. Parker, weather bound in No. 3 camp by the blizzard, had had -his first intimation of the club’s peril and escape when he reached -Coreytown on his way out. He came home to find Sam comfortably -settled. The father listened attentively to the son’s narrative, but -made no comment. Sam was puzzled a little by this, and not a little -disappointed. He would have given much to know precisely his father’s -opinion of his conduct throughout the episode. - -But Mr. Parker reserving judgment, Sam went about his own affairs, and -was very busy. There was school, with study and recitations; coasting, -sleighing and snow-shoeing filled the afternoons; then there was a club -question, which brought him into frequent conference with the other -members. And at last this question was decided; and it was the evening -of the ninth day; and he was hurrying through his supper because, -decision having been reached, the club was to meet that night in full -session. - -Sam had made his excuses, and was rising from the table, when his -father detained him. - -“I wish you’d give me a few minutes, Sam,” he said. “It’s something -which may interest you. Step into the library, and I’ll join you -presently.” - -Sam, at once curious and impatient, had not long to wait. Mr. Parker -seated himself at his desk, glanced at a memorandum, turned to the boy. - -“Well, Sam,” he said slowly, “about time we took account of stock and -balanced the books, isn’t it?” - -“I--I suppose so, sir,” his son answered uncertainly. - -“Let’s see! Some weeks ago we reached an understanding. There had -been an untoward incident, due to your--er--er--well, call it your -precipitancy. At the time it seemed wise to put you on probation. Well, -how have you behaved?” - -“Why--why”--Sam stammered--“why, I--I’ve----” - -Mr. Parker’s glance was searching, but his lips were smiling. - -“To the best of my information, you’ve behaved remarkably well!” said -he emphatically. - -“Oh!” It was all Sam could say. - -“Yes,” his father went on. “I’ve been at some pains to inquire into -your conduct. I’ve examined and cross-examined Lon and the boys who -were with you at the camp and afterward. By the way, two of them were -unusually excellent witnesses.” - -“Yes, sir?” said Sam questioningly. - -Mr. Parker’s smile broadened. “One was Willy Reynolds, who----” - -“What! The Shark?... That’s a nickname we have for him, you know.” - -“Ah! The Shark?” - -“Yes, sir--he’s a bug on mathematics.” - -“A bug, therefore a Shark--I don’t quite master the sequence of ideas, -but never mind that! Master Reynolds struck me as a quaint person, but -instructive. He seems to seek precision of statement, and begrudge -unnecessary words. Then there was young Orkney--very intelligent -fellow, and a very good friend of yours, isn’t he?” - -“I hope so!” said Sam with sincerity. - -“They were the star witnesses, but all testified to the same -effect--that you acquitted yourself creditably. Now, I don’t say that -you displayed the wisdom of age--I’ve told you that I do not look for -the head of sixty on the shoulders of sixteen--but you do seem to have -combined a degree of prudence with resolution and resourcefulness in -emergencies. All the boys say you were practically in command of the -party. If that is true, even if you didn’t keep your friends from -trouble, you brought them out of it. And that brings me from past to -future. Once I told you I hesitated to let you go to St. Mark’s because -I feared you couldn’t take care of yourself. Now what shall I say when -I find you caring for others as well as yourself?” - -Sam drew in his breath sharply. “Oh! St. Mark’s! Why--why, sir, I--I -haven’t thought of it lately.” - -“Well,” said his father quietly, “you are at liberty to think of it -now.” - -Sam tried to utter his thanks--and failed. There was a lump in his -throat which forbade speech. - -“It happens,” said Mr. Parker, “that I have had some talk recently with -Mr. Jones and Mr. Green. Both seem to be willing to have their boys go -to the school if you go, too; though Mr. Jones favors the change next -September rather than at the close of this term.” - -Then Sam found tongue. “Hurrah! Step and Poke going, too! And -September’ll suit me just as well. I’ll be glad to finish out the year -here. And--and it doesn’t have to be kept a secret, does it?” - -“Not unless you so desire.” - -“Whoop!” shouted the delighted Sam, and rushed out of the library. -Thirty seconds later he was out of the house, and running toward the -club. - -All the other members were present when he burst in upon them; but -before he could recover breath to spread his news, the Shark interposed. - -“Don’t you try to start anything, Sam, till we’ve ’tended to business. -Look here!” He pulled out his watch. “Seven-twenty-eight--and the time -set’s seven-thirty.” - -“Bother your watch, Shark!” cried Step. “Likely’s not it’s ’way off.” - -The Shark frowned upon the doubter. “This watch,” he said severely, -“has an average gain of twenty-two seconds, plus, a month. It was set -by a jeweler’s chronometer four days ago. If you will take the trouble -to compute the error which has arisen since then, and subtract----” - -“Hold on! No rough work like that goes!” jeered Poke. “Twenty-two plus -nothing! What’s the fraction? If we’re going to be accurate, let’s be -accurate!” - -For an instant the Shark stared at Poke. - -“You--you talking of accuracy! Holy smoke!” he growled in disgust. “You -couldn’t tell a vernier from a vulgar fraction!” - -Sam thought he saw a chance to break in. - -“Listen, you fellows----” he began; but this time the Trojan stopped -him. - -“Put it off till the show’s over, Sam. We want this thing done right, -you know.” - -“Sure! And you’ve got to make the speech, Sam!” chimed in Herman Boyd. - -Sam’s jaw dropped. “Speech? Oh, thunder! but I can’t!” he protested. - -“All the same, you’ll have to. It’s got to be put straight--the way we -feel about it--all that.” - -Poke wagged his head knowingly. “It’s the proper caper,” said he, in -his philosophical fashion. “People always make speeches when they’ve -got to break the ice and don’t know exactly how to go about it.” - -Here was American common practice, if not the soundest of doctrine. -The club was impressed. - -“That’s so,” said two or three together. - -“But----” Sam’s objection was cut short by a knock at the door. - -The Trojan pushed him forward. Plainly there was no escape from the -rôle his friends were forcing upon him. - -Sam opened the door. Then, rising to the occasion, he caught the hand -of a youth who stood on the step, and drew him into the room. Back of -him the other boys formed a smiling semicircle. - -“Tom Orkney,” said Sam very earnestly, “you don’t know how pleased I am -to see you here. But I want you to understand that your election was -unanimous, and that every one of us is mighty glad to have you a member -of the Safety First Club!” - - * * * * * - -Transcriber’s Notes: - -Illustrations have been moved to paragraph breaks near where they are -mentioned, except for the frontispiece. - -Punctuation has been made consistent. - -Variations in spelling and hyphenation were retained as they appear in -the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors have -been corrected. - -The following change was made: - -p. 339: hand changed to land (the land. If) - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SAFETY FIRST CLUB *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format -other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain -Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -provided that: - -• You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation.” - -• You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ - works. - -• You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -• You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right -of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you “AS-IS”, WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ - -Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™'s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |