try and stick it out here, and be landed in a Texas jail.”
“It’ll seem an awful long time till tomorrow comes,” sighed the impatient Thad. “We told him we’d be around by nine in the morning, didn’t we? Well, let’s call it eight-and-a-half, then. He may be able to get off earlier than he expects, and that would cut Brother Lu out of another meal at the expense of Matilda, whose supplies must be running low by now, I should judge, and her money ditto in the bargain.”
“Have it your own way, Thad, and drop in for me,” said Hugh. “In the midst of all this fuss and feathers over that miserable hobo, we mustn’t forget we promised to be on hand in the afternoon to play on the team against Mechanicsville; for you know there has been a switch, and the programme changed. That team is considered a strong aggregation from the mills over there, and, we may get our fingers burned unless we are careful. After knocking Belleville down last Saturday, it would look bad for Scranton to be snowed under by an outside nine without any reputation, as they have hardly played together this season so far.”
“Oh! I haven’t forgotten my promise to Mr. Saunders and you, Hugh,” protested the reliable backstop of the high-school team “I’m too fond of baseball to neglect any chance for playing. But we’ll try and put this other affair over in the A.M., and that’ll leave us free to play ball after lunch. I wonder how far away our friend, Brother Lu, will be this time tomorrow?”
“Perhaps many miles,” suggested Hugh, “and then again he may be taking things as easy as ever over there at Sister Matilda’s cottage. It’s going to be a toss-up whether our game works as we hope, or falls flat to the ground.”
CHAPTER X
HOW JIM PETTIGREW FIXED IT
When Saturday morning came, the two chums of Scranton High met as per arrangement, and as Thad expressed it, made a “bee-line” downtown. They were fairly wild to get bold of the first copy of the _Weekly Courier_ that was placed on sale.
As a rule, it was delivered to the several newsstands, and at the railroad station, around eight o’clock. Then the “printer’s devil,” who was also the carrier, delivering copies to most of the town folks who subscribed in that fashion, would start out with a first bundle in his bag, taking his time about leaving the same at different doors. Perhaps nowadays, however, when there was likely to be a baseball game in the afternoon to enliven things, the said boy might quicken his pace a bit, so as to get through, and have a chance to witness the struggle.
They were just in time to see a package delivered at the main news store, where sporting goods could also be purchased. Paul Kramer’s was a place most beloved among the boys of Scranton, for the small store held almost everything that was apt to appeal to the heart of the average youth. Besides, all baseball, and in due season, football paraphernalia, as well as hockey sticks, and shin guards, the old storekeeper always carried a well-chosen stock of juvenile fiction in cloth; and those fellows who were fond of spending their spare hours in reading the works of old favorites like Optic and Alger, as well as numerous more recent additions to the ranks of authors, were to be found poring over the contents of numerous book shelves and racks, deciding which volume they would squander their latest quarter for.
Then at Kramer’s “Emporium” there was always a huge stock of the latest music in cheap form; and the girls had also contracted a habit of dropping in to look this over, with an eye to adding to their lists. So that from early morning until nine in the evening, on ordinary occasions, if a boy could not be found anywhere else it was “dollars to doughnuts,” as Thad always said, that he was rummaging at Paul Kramer’s, and lost to all the world for the time being.
Eagerly, then, did Thad throw down a nickel, and snatch up the first copy of that week’s issue sold that morning. It was virtually “fresh from the press”; indeed, the odor of printers’ ink could easily be detected in the sheet.
There was no difficulty about finding the article they were most deeply interested in. It occupied a leading place on the front page. Jim Pettigrew had certainly seen to it that the head was next door to what is known as a “scare” head; for the type was black and bold enough to attract attention the first thing any one unfolded their copy of the _Courier_.
What Mr. Adoiphus Hanks would say was a question, when later on he came to look over the latest issue of the family paper, and discovered such liberties on the part of the “cub” reporter, raised for one day to the responsible position of editor. But then Jim was smooth-tongued enough to settle all that with his boss, for Jim could talk almost anyone into believing that black was white. Possibly he would think it the best policy to confide the whole story to Mr. Hanks, and explain just how it had been done in the public policy. Adoiphus was not such a bad sort of fellow, and really believed that he took a leading part in the upbuilding of the morals of Scranton; so he might forgive Jim’s breaking away from the long-established policy of the family paper, which allowed of but little sensationalism.
Well, it was a great story! Jim had allowed his imagination full swing, that was certain. He spoke of actually running across the stern official from Texas, and making his acquaintance under rather dramatic conditions connected with a broken-down car on the road. Then he launched forth into a vivid description of how the minion of justice confided to him the reason for his being there so far distant from the field of his customary useful and perilous operations. Sly little hints were conveyed in his mention of the rascal whom he had vowed to find, and take back with him to Texas, there to pay the penalty for breaking the laws. Why, surely the guilty conscience of Brother Lu must discover a description of himself in every word that the imaginary marshal uttered.
The two boys finished at about the same time. Their eyes met in a stare, and Thad gave utterance to a whistle.
“Whew! Jim is sure a dandy when it comes to write-ups, isn’t he, though, Hugh?” he breathed softly, for the proprietor of the “Emporium” happened to be bustling about the place, and was evidently a bit curious to know just what there could be in that week’s edition of the _Courier_ to so plainly interest Hugh and his chum.
“He certainly is,” admitted Hugh. “Why, you can almost see that Marshal Hastings walking before you, and looking as if he had his eagle eye fixed on you for keeps. Jim’s described him so smartly that it would apply to almost any Western sheriff or marshal we’ve ever seen in the movies.”
“But just think how the cold creeps will chase up and down the spinal column of that miserable sneak of a hobo when he glimpses this article,” chuckled Thad. “I can imagine him starting, and his eyes nearly popping out of his head as he gets busy devouring the whole thing. And, then, Hugh, what d’ye reckon his next move will be?” Hugh shrugged his shoulders as he slowly replied:
“Honestly now, Thad, I give it up. If he’s really guilty, as we believe, why, of course, he’ll not wait on the order of his going, but skip out like a prairie fire, and we’ll be shut of him. But there’s always the doubt. In fact, we never can be sure we’ve struck the right nail on the head until we see Lu hitting the high places, and never even looking back.”
“I must read that wonderful article again,” quoth the admiring Thad. “It’s simply great the way Jim’s written it up, and I’m sure that chap is bound to occupy an exalted place in newspaperdom down in New York one of these days when luck comes to him, and he emigrates that way.”
They scanned it line by line until they could almost repeat the whole story by heart, it made such a great impression on them. Thad seemed more than amused over the idea that the good folks from Scranton would swallow it whole, and believe there was really a Texan marshal in their midst, looking right and left for a desperate character who had dropped down in that quiet and respectable neighborhood, thinking he would be safe from molestation there.
“Why, Hugh,” he went on to say, exuberantly, “all today I warrant you hundreds of people here, women as well as boys and men, will be scanning every party who happens to be wearing a felt bat anything like the one Marshal Hastings is said to possess; and wondering if the stranger from Mechanicsville, or Allandale, or any other old place can be the wonderful Texan official, who according to Jim’s graphic account has notches cut on the stocks of both his big revolvers to indicate just how many bad men he has been compelled to lay low during the course of his long and thrilling public career. Oh! I feel just as if I wanted to drop down and laugh till my sides ached, it’s such a rich joke. That Jim will kill me yet with his wonderful write-ups.”
Hugh was apparently also highly amused, but he did not lose sight of the main facts in the case, as his next remark proved.
“Remember we settled it that we’d be around to look Jim up about half-past eight, instead of nine o’clock this morning. Thad, it’s getting near that time now, so perhaps we’d better be moving. Jim might feel like starting a bit early, so as to give him more time later on for his regular duties. You see, being left in sole charge of the office while Mr. Hanks is away makes him responsible for even the job printing.”
Thad was only too glad for an excuse for an earlier start.
“If we have to do any loafing,” he went on to say, philosophically, “we can put in the time at the _Courier_ office, just as well as anywhere else. I always did want to mosey around that place, and while Mr. Hanks is away, perhaps I’ll have a chance to handle a few type, and watch the regular comp work like lightning. The smell of printers’ ink seems to draw me, Hugh, to tell you the honest truth.”
Although Thad possibly did not know it at the time, that fascination has been responsible for many a noted editor’s career, as the lure of printers’ ink, when it gets a firm hold on any one, can seldom be shaken off in after years. Once a newspaper man and it becomes a lifetime pursuit. But then, of course, Thad might be only imagining such things, and the dim future hold out other possibilities for a career that would be far removed from an editor’s chair.
They found Jim on deck, and buried up to his ears in work. He seemed to enjoy it to the limit, too, for it made him appear so responsible and tickled his vanity. He grinned at seeing his two young friends.
“I suppose now you’ve read my latest effusion, boys?” Jim remarked, with an assumption of extreme modesty, which, however, hardly suited his usual bold demeanor.
Jim had all a reporter’s “nerve,” and could coolly face a raging subscriber who had dropped in to ask to have his subscription closed because of a certain offensive article in the last issue–yes, and likely as not Jim could soothe the ruffled feathers of the enraged man, show him how he had really been paid a compliment, and finally bow him out of the office with another year’s subscription left in the shape of a dollar and a half in good money.
“We’ve fairly _devoured_ it, Jim,” frankly admitted Thad. “Why, I can repeat it off-hand right now, I’ve read it so often. And Jim, I want to say that it’s as clever a piece of work as I ever got hold of. That terrible Texan stands out as clear as print. Everybody in Scranton will be rubbering all today, thinking they can see Marshal Hastings in each stranger in town. I congratulate you, Jim; you’re a peach at your trade, believe me.”
Of course that sort of “gush” just tickled Jim immensely. He tried not to show it, but his eyes were twinkling with gratified vanity. It was fine to hear other people complimenting him so warmly, even though they were but boys from Scranton High. Praise is acceptable even from the lowly; and Jim made queer motions with his lips as though he might be rolling the sweet morsel over his tongue.
“Glad you like it, fellows,” he said, in as unconcerned a voice as he could muster to the fore. “Course there was some hurry, because I’m rushed for time, and I could have done a heap better if I really tried to lay myself out. But I guess that ought to fill the bill, and give Brother Lu a little scare, eh, Thad, old scout?”
“I’m expecting he’ll shake himself out of his shoes, or rather Brother-in-law Andrew’s footwear,” exclaimed the eager Thad. “But say, Jim, how about your going out with us, and watching him skip!”
Jim looked serious.
“H’m! got an awful bunch of work to do, fellows, this morning, as well as hold the editorial desk down for Mr. Hanks; but perhaps the sooner we get that little job over with the better. Yes, I’ll call Philip, our boy here, who’s rubbing the ink off his face and hands, and we’ll all start out to finish Brother Lu’s career in Scranton.”
CHAPTER XI
SOMETHING GOES WRONG
It was in this confident mood that they made their start. Philip had the copy of the _Courier_, which Jim had deftly folded so that the headlines of his startling article would be seen immediately any one picked the paper up. He was also instructed to simply say that the management of the weekly, wishing to give more citizens of Scranton an opportunity to get acquainted with the feast of good things served up every Saturday, was sending out a supply of sample copies, and that a subscription would be much appreciated. As Philip was a shrewd little fellow he “caught on” to the idea, and would without fail carry it through all right.
It was not intended that any occupant of the Hosmer home should suspect the presence of the three who meant to see what happened. Thad knew just how they could advance fairly close without being seen, since he had been “playing spy” before on his own account, and was, therefore, acquainted with every bush capable of affording shelter.
Accordingly, when they found themselves drawing near their intended destination, Thad was given charge of the expedition, and he seemed pleased to serve in the exalted capacity of pilot or guide. He led the way, and the other two followed as close to his heels as possible. In this manner they finally found themselves as close to the cottage as circumstances and a scarcity of sheltering bushes would allow.
“Here’s where I hide,” whispered Thad, coming to a sudden pause, and remaining in a crouching position. “We can see everything that goes on outside the house and, if the door should be left open on such a fine warm morning, perhaps hear something that might be said inside.”
Both Hugh and Jim seemed quite satisfied with the prospect, if their nods could be taken for assurance.
“If everything is ready, and the trap set,” remarked Jim, softly, “I’ll give Philip the signal we agreed on.”
“Go ahead, then,” said Thad, eagerly, his eyes fairly dancing with expectancy; for somehow his heart seemed more than ever set on relieving poor Matilda Hosmer from the fresh load she had taken so generously on her already tired shoulders.
Accordingly Jim, without raising his head above the level of the bush that concealed his body, waved his handkerchief three times. He knew that Philip would be waiting and watching for such a sign, because before they left the boy Thad had taken pains to point out to him where they expected to hide.
Sure enough, hardly had Jim made the third and concluding wave than the carrier was seen to come in sight, bearing quite a load of papers; which in reality be expected to deliver on his first round to regular customers; for none of them saving that particular one were to be given away free as sample copies; and that had, as Thad expressed it, “a string tied to it.”
Whistling in the most unconcerned manner possible Philip walked straight up to the cottage door and knocked. The boy was playing his part to perfection, all of them saw, and Jim in particular seemed much impressed.
It was Matilda herself who answered the summons. They could see that Philip was getting off the lines which he had committed to memory. Matilda asked him several questions, but she held on to the paper all the same, and seemed quite pleased at being picked out as a possible new subscriber; although times were just then too hard to admit of her indulging in such a luxury.
But perhaps she thought it would be such a pleasure for “poor Brother Lu” to forget all his troubles in looking over the town paper. Thad felt sure this must be in the mind of Matilda, for she was one of those persons whose first thought is always of some one beside themselves.
Philip having exhausted his schedule hastened to betake himself off before he said too much; because he was a wise boy for his years, Jim allowed. And Matilda went back into the house, glancing at the paper as she vanished from view.
“Now let’s hope that hammock there will tempt Brother Lu to saunter forth and take things easy while he looks over the paper,” said Jim, with just a touch of eagerness discernible in his well-controlled voice; for he prided himself on always “keeping cool” under the most trying conditions.
They did not have long to wait. Why, it seemed to Thad that the wonderful Jim must have some peculiar power, as of suggestion, with which he could influence other minds; for as they peeped through openings in the bushes, lo! and behold, out of the cottage door came the object of Thad’s especial aversion. Yes, it was the hobo whom they had first met when he was cooking his meal in regular tramp fashion by using discarded tomato cans for receptacles to hold coffee and stew. But Brother Lu was a transformed tramp. He wore the Sunday clothes of Brother-in-law Andrew, and his face was actually as smooth as a razor could make it. In fact, he looked just too sleek and well-fed for anything; and Thad, as usual, gritted his teeth with savage emphasis to think how the fellow was imposing on the good nature of that simple and big-hearted couple.
Then, too, he had the paper in his hand, which evidently Matilda had given over to him immediately she entered. He made straight for that hammock, as though he had actually heard Jim suggest such a charming possibility.
“Now we’re in great luck,” Thad breathed, gripping Hugh by the knee, as they crouched in company behind their screen of bushes. “We can watch, and see just what effect that bombshell has on the skunk!”
“Keep quiet, Thad,” warned Hugh; “or he might hear you.”
The reformed tramp seemed to be very particular about his comfort nowadays. Time was when he could throw himself down carelessly on the hardest kind of ground and rest easy; but since he had taken to living under a roof things were different. They saw him fix the pillow in the hammock very carefully before he allowed himself to recline there. Then he raised the paper, and seemed to take a careless glance at it.
Hardly had he done this than the watchers saw him start upright again. He was undoubtedly devouring the thrilling news item on the front page with “avidity”—at least, that was what Jim Pettigrew would have called it, had he been at his favorite job of “writing up” the doings of Scranton society for the past week.
“Now he has got a body blow!” hissed the delighted Thad, unable to keep still any great length of time when his pulses were throbbing like mad, and his eyes round with eagerness.
Brother Lu read the article through. Then he lowered the paper and seemed to be meditating, to judge from his attitude. Hugh thought he could detect something akin to a wide grin on the other’s face, but then he may have been mistaken. Thad, on his part, was positive that he knew what must be passing through the mind of the man after reading that suggestive news concerning the Texan marshal who never yet allowed an intended victim to elude his clutches, and who meant to get the guilty party so badly wanted “down below.”
“Say, he’s figuring on whether he’d best streak it as he is, or go in and gather a few things together that he may need,” continued the irrepressible Thad.
Even as he spoke they saw the other scramble hastily out of the comfortable hammock, and start post-haste for the open door of the cottage. Thad was as certain of what was about to happen as that he knew his own name. Hugh suspended judgment, believing that it would be unwise to jump too hastily to a decision. Besides, there were a few little suspicious things connected with the actions of Brother Lu that he did not wholly like.
A minute passed, two of them, which doubtless seemed like so many hours to the confident Thad. Then they again saw the late hobo coming out. Thad stared harder than ever, and his heart felt like lead.
What did it mean? he asked himself. Brother Lu did not have his hat on, nor was he carrying any sort of hastily thrown together bundle. In fact, he showed not the first sign of the dreadful alarm Thad had anticipated.
He still carried the weekly paper in his hand as though he meant to look over that wonderful article of Jim’s again. And what he had really darted into the house after was evident; for in the other hand he carried Mr. Hosmer’s only good pipe, as well as his tobacco bag, now getting woefully depleted of its prized contents.
Then, as if totally unaware of the fact that three pairs of eyes were glued upon his every slightest move, Brother Lu calmly filled the pipe, struck a match on the sole of Brother-in-law Andrew’s shoe, applied the flame to the contents of the pipe bowl, and puffed out a cloud of blue smoke with all the assurance in the world. Thad nearly took a fit trying to hold in; the fact was Hugh felt constrained to lay a warning hand on his chum’s arm to keep him from bursting out in such a manner as to betray them to the smug hobo.
Brother Lu read the article again from beginning to end. Then he smote his knee with his open palm several times, and they could actually hear him chuckle, as if he might be highly amused. All this rather puzzled Jim, who had fully anticipated seeing the intruder making a bee-line for the railroad. Perhaps he even began to wonder whether, after all, he might not have “laid it on a little thicker” when writing up that story about the grim Texan marshal.
Presently Matilda was heard calling to Brother Lu, who, leaving his hammock, sauntered into the house with all the airs of one who had arranged to take life easy from that time on.
“Hey! let’s beat it,” mumbled the keenly disappointed Jim Pettigrew. “I’ve got heaps to do at the office; and I seem to tumble to the fact that, after all, our big game didn’t pan out just as was expected.”
Thad did not have a single word to say just then. He was, in fact, too dazed to collect his thoughts. But Hugh’s active mind was grappling with the matter, and he apparently seemed able to figure things out.
They retreated in a strategic fashion, so that possibly no one was the wiser for their having been behind the bushes, unless Brother Lu chanced to take a notion to peep from behind some fluttering white dimity curtain.
“Well, what does it all mean, do you know, Hugh?” finally burst out Thad, after they had gone far enough away to make it safe to talk in ordinary tones.
“I think I have guessed why he seemed so tickled after reading the article which we figured would give him such a bad scare,” said Hugh, with a grim smile. “The fact of the matter is he hoodwinked me when he told such whopping yarns about the terrible sheriff of the oil regions. There may be such a chap, all right, but his name isn’t Hastings by a long shot. He just invented that name, you see; and when he read Jim’s article about his being up here, he tumbled to the game.”
“Oh! it’s rotten luck!” groaned Thad; “after all that beautiful strategy we’ve fallen down flat. No use talking, Hugh. Jim, that fellow is a sticker, and it begins to look as if he couldn’t be budged or pried loose with a crowbar. But I’m not the one to give a thing up because I’ve failed once or twice; just wait till I get my third wind, and I’ll settle Brother Lu’s hash for him!”
So they wandered back to town, sadder but wiser from their new experience.
CHAPTER XII
SCRANTON FANS HAVE A PAINFUL SHOCK
The nine from Mechanicsburg showed up that afternoon on time. They were a husky-looking lot of young chaps, accustomed to hard toil in the mills, and with muscles that far outclassed the high-school boys. But, as every one knows, it requires something more than mere brawn to win baseball games; often a club that seems to be weak develops an astonishing amount of skill with bat and ball, and easily walks off with the victory.
Mechanicsburg was “out for blood” from the very start. They depended a great deal on their slugging abilities, and declared that no pitcher the Scranton players might offer could resist their terrific onslaught.
When the first inning was over at last it began to look as if their boast might be made good, for the score stood five to one. Frazer was in the box for Scranton, Hugh not wishing to use his star pitcher unless it was absolutely necessary. He was a bit afraid that something might happen to Tyree that would put him on the bench and thus they would be terribly handicapped in their first game with Allandale on the following Saturday.
Now, Frazer was a pretty dependable sort of a slab artist, and if the Scranton boys had not had Alan Tyree they might have believed him a Number One. But while Frazer had a number of good curves and drops, and a pretty fair amount of speed, he seemed only able to deceive those huskies from Mechanicsburg in spurts.
Between times they got at him for successive drives that netted two and three bases each. Indeed, in that very first inning the fielders of the home team were kept on the jump at a lively rate chasing smashing blows. To tell the truth, all three outs were made on enormous flies that seemed to go up almost to the very clouds, and gave “K.K.” out in the middle garden, and “Just” Smith, who had charge of left field, a big run each time before they could get their hands on and hold the ball.
In the second time at bat the visitors did not do as much. Perhaps Frazer managed to tighten up, and pitch better ball. He was very erratic, and could never be depended on to do consecutive good work. In every other inning the heavies could not seem to gauge his work at all, and he mowed them down. Then they would come at him again like furies, and knock his offerings to every part of the field as though he might be an amateur in the box.
Hugh watched the fluctuations of the game with more or less solicitude. They could hardly afford to be beaten by a team like Mechanicsburg, he figured, as he saw Frazer “fall down” for the third time, and a catastrophe threaten.
It was the sixth inning.
Scranton had done more or less scoring on her side, so that the figures were mounting rapidly, and it promised to be an old-fashioned batting bee. It now stood nine to twelve in favor of the visitors; and as they had started another of their rallies no one could say what the result might be by the time Scranton once more came to bat.
There was a small but noisy delegation from the other town present, and they kept things pretty lively most of the time, cheering their fellows, and hooting the slightest opportunity when Scranton failed to connect, or one of the high-school boys did not make a gilt-edged pickup.
Nor were the Mechanicsburg rooters alone in this jeering. As usually happens, there were a number of fellows in Scranton who entertained feelings of jealousy toward the local nine, based on an idea that they had been purposely overlooked when the choice of players was made.
Chief among these malcontents was the town bully, Nick Lang, whose acquaintance the reader has already made in a previous volume, and under exciting conditions. Nick at one time had a good chance of making the nine, for he was a hustler when it came to playing ball, and indeed, in nearly every sport; but as might be expected, he managed to display his nasty temper in practice, and Coach Saunders, who heartily disliked and distrusted the big fellow, speedily turned him down.
Nick, as usual, had his two faithful henchmen along with him, Leon Disney and Tip Slavin; and the trio led the hooting whenever a chance came to rub it into Scranton. Some of the visitors hardly liked this; it smacked too much of rank treachery to please them. It was all very well for visitors to deride the home team in order to “rattle” the pitcher; but for fellows living in Scranton to indulge in this sort of thing did not seem right.
Hugh believed he had had quite enough of this see-saw business. If Frazer was going to “jump” in that miserable fashion the game was as good as gone. He disliked doing it the worst kind, but he saw the appealing look Frazer shot in his direction on third when the visitors once more started their bombardment. It meant Frazer had lost all confidence in his ability to stop the threatened rally; and that he was making signs for help.
So Hugh took him out.
It was Alan Tyree who stepped into the box, and began to toss a few balls to the backstop, in order to limber up his arm; while the visiting batsman waited the signal from the umpire to toe the home plate, and get ready to strike.
Just three times did Alan send in one of his terrific shoots that fairly sizzled as they shot past; three times the heavy batter cut the thin air with his club, and then walked over to where his companions sat in a clump, watching curiously to see how the change was going to work.
Up came the next visitor on the list, who also made light with the offering of poor Frazer. Did he start a batting bee all over again? Well, not that any one could notice it. The best he could do was to fan the air on two successive occasions, and then send up a twisting foul that Thad Stevens managed to hold, after a pretty erratic chase back and forth.
Now it was the loyal home fans who began to root long and hard. They scented victory, and it seemed good after so much bitter humiliation at the hands of this newly organized team, most of them strange to their positions, and capable of many fielding errors, but able to remedy this by their ability to bat.
The third out followed in quick succession. Scranton sighed with relief, and the fielders had had a rest. They were really getting tired of chasing wildly after all those terrific smashes, and of seeing the big fellows running the bases at will.
Hugh led off in the next inning, and the renewed confidence put in the whole team by the change of pitchers showed itself. When that inning was over the locals had reduced the lead of Mechanicsburg to one run; and they fully anticipated wiping that slight advantage out in the next round.
Tyree still held them close. They knocked several fouls, and one man actually went out through Juggins in far right, managing to sprint fast enough to grapple with a soaring fly that came his way across the foul line. The rest struck out, being almost like babies in the hands of the wizard Tyree.
Well, the locals not only wiped that lead out but went two better, so that it now began to look as though they had the game “sewed up,” with Tyree pitching championship brand of ball, and every fellow keyed up to playing his best. Wonderful infield work saved Alan from having the first hit marked up against him in the eighth frame, for several of the hard hitters were up again, and they managed to swat the ball with a vim; but only to have Owen, or it might be Morgan on third, intercept the speeding horsehide, and whip it over to waiting Old Reliable Joe Danvers on first for an out.
The game really ended with that inning, for Scranton made five runs, having a nice little batting bee of their own for a change. In the ninth the visitors got a man on first through a juggle on the part of Hobson on second, though Julius was really excusable, for the ball came down to him with terrific speed, and though he knocked it down he could not recover in time to get it across the infield so as to cut off the speedy runner.
But when the visitor started to make for second Thad Stevens had him caught by two yards, his throw down being as accurate as a bullet fired from a new Government army rifle.
After all, the boys were satisfied to come out of the scrimmage as well as they did, for those big Mechanicsburg chaps were terrors with their bats; and equal to making a home run at any stage of the game.
It had been good practice for Scranton, every one admitted, though some confessed that their blood had actually run cold when Frazer gave such palpable signs of distress.
Hugh was worried more or less. He wondered what would happen if Tyree could not play in the big game with Allandale. Frazer might redeem himself, it is true, for the pitcher that goes to the well, and is dented on one day, often comes back later on and does wonderful work. Still, as the following week passed day by day, and Saturday came closer, the field captain of the Scranton High team seemed to feel a strange premonition that there was trouble in store for them.
And his fears did not prove groundless, after all, as it turned out; for there was trouble a-plenty waiting for the local team, spelled with a capital T in the bargain.
The day came, and everything seemed all right as far as the weather went. It was hot enough to make the players feel at their best without causing them to wilt under the burning rays of the sun. Clouds at times also promised relief, and the immense throng that gathered on the open field where Scranton played, for there was no high fence around it, believed they were due to witness a sterling game, with the two teams well balanced.
Of course Allandale had beaten unlucky Belleville easily on the preceding Saturday, while Scranton was “toying” with that aggregation of sluggers from Mechanicsburg, and almost getting their fingers burned while doing so. The “Champs,” as the visitors delighted to call themselves, seemed to have an air of confidence that impressed many an anxious Scranton rooter, and made him wonder how Tyree would stand up against that mighty slab artist, Big Ed Patterson. This Allandale pitcher seemed capable of outwitting the smartest batter by giving just what he wanted least of all, as if he knew every fellow’s weaknesses, and could take advantage of them at will.
Then the blow fell.
It cast gloom over the whole Scranton camp, as the horrible news was quickly circulated through the various groups. Boys turned to look at one another aghast, and the grins on their faces assumed a sickly yellow hue.
Word had been brought to the anxious Hugh that Alan Tyree would be utterly unable to be on the field that day, not to speak of pitching. An unlucky accident after lunch had injured his left leg, and the doctor absolutely forbade his getting into uniform, or even leaving the house, under severe penalty for disobedience.
It was in the nature of a dreadful calamity, after the way Frazer had been actually knocked out of the box by those crude players from Mechanicsburg. Still the game must be played, or forfeited to Allandale; and Scranton fellows are not in the habit of giving anything up without the hardest kind of a struggle. So with a sigh, and trying to appear calm, Hugh turned to his second-string pitcher.
CHAPTER XIII
HUGH TRIES HIS “FADE-AWAY” BALL
“Are you game, Frazer, for a desperate fight?” asked Hugh, smiling in a way he hoped would inspire the other with confidence.
Frazer was a bit white, but he had his jaws set, and there was a promising flash in his eyes that Hugh liked to see. His Scotch blood was aroused, and he would do his level best to hold the Allandale last-year champions down to few hits. That humiliation which Frazer had suffered in asking to be taken out of the box on the preceding Saturday had burned in his soul ever since; and he was in a fit frame of mind to “pitch his head off” in order to redeem himself.
Hugh talked with him a short time. He told him all he knew about the various players on the opposing team, and in this way Frazer might be able to deceive some of the heavy batters when they came up. Unfortunately Frazer could not vary his speed and drops and curves with an occasional deceptive Matthewson “balloon ball,” so called because it seems to look as large as a toy hot-air balloon to the batter, but is advanced so slowly that he strikes before it gets within reach.
Hugh on his part had always practiced that sort of a ball, and indeed he had nothing else beside fair speed and this “floater.” But in practice, when Hugh went into the box, he had been able to fool many of his mates, and have them almost breaking their backs trying to hit a ball that was still coming. As a last resort Hugh meant to relieve Frazer, but only after the game was irrevocably lost; for he wanted to give the other every chance possible to redeem his former “fluke.”
There was not any great amount of genuine enthusiasm shown by the crowd of local rooters when Frazer walked out to take his place, though many did give him a cheer, hoping to thus hearten the poor fellow, and put some confidence in his soul.
If he had not been able to hold those boys from Mechanicsburg, who were reckoned only “half-baked” players, as some of the Scranton fans called it, what sort of a chance would Frazer have against the Champs, who had toyed with Belleville just a week back, and looked tremendously dangerous as they practiced now upon the local field, so as to become a little accustomed to its peculiarities?
Ground rules were again in vogue, owing to the great crowd. This gave Scranton a little advantage, since they were used to playing on the home grounds, and would know just where to send the ball—providing they were able to come in contact with it, a matter in which one Big Ed Patterson meant to have considerable to say, judging from his confident manner, and the good-natured smile on his sun-burned face.
Scranton fought gamely, every one was agreed to that. They started off well, for Frazer actually got through the first without a hit being made, though twice the visitors met one of his offerings with a vicious smack that sent the ball far out in center, where the watchful and fleet-footed “K.K.” managed to capture each fly after a great run.
And in their half Scranton did a little hitting, though it was mostly through good luck that they got one run—a Texas leaguer that fell among three players who got their signals crossed; then a poor throw down to second allowing “Just” Smith to land there in safety; a bunt that turned into a sacrifice on the part of Joe Danvers, followed by a high fly that let the runner on third come trooping home, did the business.
Owen struck out, and Hugh sent up a mighty foul over in right that was caught in a dazzling fashion by the guardian of that patch.
As the two clubs faced each other they ranged after this fashion, and it may be noticed that there was no change in Scranton’s line-up except in the pitcher’s box. The batting order was not the same, so it must be given as it came on either side:
Scranton High
Player Position
————————————– “Just” Smith Left Field
Joe Danvers First Base
Horatio Juggins Right Field
Owen Dugdale Short Stop
Hugh Morgan (capt.) Third Base
“K.K.” (Ken Kinkaid) Center Field Julius Hobson Second Base
Frazer Pitcher
Thad Stevens Catcher
Allandale High Player
Position
————————————– Farmer Left Field
Gould First Base
Wright Right Field
Waterman Short Stop
Norris Third Base
Whipple Center Field
Brown Second Base
Patterson Pitcher
Keeler Catcher
As the game progressed it became evident that Frazer was “pitching his arm off” in the endeavor to stem the tide of defeat that inning after inning seemed bound to overtake the Scranton nine, despite their most gallant uphill fight. Allandale proved to be all their reputation had boasted, and they seemed able to work a man around the circuit nearly every inning. Splendid fielding on the part of Hugh and his mates kept the score down, but nevertheless it continued to mount, in spite of all their efforts.
Frazer was beginning to show signs of exhaustion. He had tried every trick he had in his list on the batters who faced him. They had begun to solve his delivery more and more the oftener they came up. And there was a very demoralizing way about their confident attitude that no doubt added much to poor Frazer’s distress. He began to believe they were just playing with him, and at a given time would fall upon his delivery, to knock the ball at will to every part of the field.
Hugh knew it was coming, and he hardly felt able to go into the box himself to stem the rising tide; but anything was better than to have Frazer submerged under an avalanche of hits. “Big Ed” seemed to be getting better the longer he pitched, and just the reverse could be said of Frazer, who was on the verge of a total collapse.
“Better take me out before I go to the wall, Hugh,” begged the other, after the sixth frame showed the score to be six to two, with more runs looming up in the “lucky seventh” in prospect. “I’m ashamed to say I’ve lost my nerve. Those fellows mean to get at me in the seventh and it will be a Waterloo. I just feel it in my bones they’ve been waiting to lambast my offerings then, for I’ve seen them talking together, and laughing, as though they had a game laid out. You go in and feed them those teasers of yours. The boys will take a brace in batting, if you can hold Allandale; and in the end it may not be such a terrible calamity after all.”
Hugh knew it must be. Frazer had gone to the wall, and would pitch poorly if allowed to go in the box in the next inning.
“I hate to do it, Frazer,” he told the other, feeling sorry for him; “but any port in a storm; and it may be possible these sluggers will trip up on that balloon ball of mine, though I haven’t much else to offer them.”
That inning the locals did a little batting on their own account, with the result that the score looked a shade better, for it was three to six when once more Scranton went into the field.
When it was seen that Hugh walked to the box some of the local rooters cheered lustily, for Hugh was a great favorite. Cat-calls also greeted his appearance, coming principally from Nick Lang and his followers; though they were frowned upon by a crowd of Scranton boys, who threatened to hustle them off the grounds unless they mended their ways.
As Hugh left third one of the substitutes, named Hastings, was placed on that sack. Thad gave Hugh a queer look on discovering this, and followed it with a peculiarly suggestive grin; so that Hugh understood how his chum was thinking of another Hastings with whose name they had taken undue liberties.
Allandale seemed pleased to know that there was to be a change of slab artists.
“All pitchers look alike to us when we’ve got our batting clothes on!” one of them sang out blithely, as he swung a couple of bats around, being the next man up, and desirous of making himself feel that he held a willow wand in his hands when throwing one aside and wielding the other.
He was mistaken.
Hugh started in without delay feeding them some of what the boys were pleased to denominate his “teasers.” He soon had them hitting at thin air with might and main, and looking surprised because they failed to connect.
One man, then two, went out on strikes, and neither had touched the elusive “fade-away” ball made famous by Christy Matthewson in his prime.
The crowd sat up and began to take notice. What did it mean? If Hugh could only keep up his good work by varying his offerings, so as to keep those slugging Allandale fellows guessing, and Scranton began to knock the ball around a little on their own account, why, there might be something like a good game yet.
The third man got a hit which should really have been an out, for “K.K.,” reliable “K.K.,” out in deep center, misjudged the blow, and started to run back, when he should have shot forward instantly. He could have scooped it up three feet from the ground had he done so; and while he did manage to keep the ball from getting past, the batter gained first.
However, he died there, for Hugh deceived the next fellow as he had done two previous batters, and the side was out. When the eighth inning ended the score was four to six, not so very bad. The local rooters got busy, and gave Hugh a round of hearty cheers when he toed the mark in the box again.
Allandale did get a run in this frame, but still Hugh struck two men out. And in their half of the eighth Scranton also tallied, making the score read four to seven. Then came the last inning. Hugh exerted himself to the utmost. One batter failed to connect, but the next got in a blow that netted him two bases.
Hugh kept cool and managed to deceive the next one. Then came a mighty heave and when Juggins in far right was seen running like mad it looked as if Allandale had clinched another brace of runs then and there. But Horatio proved himself to be a hero, for he gobbled that drive, and the side was extinguished with no damage done.
Scranton tried with might and main to do something wonderful in their last half of the final inning. Indeed, with two out and three on bases it looked as if there might be a fair chance, since a wallop would mean three runs to tie the score, and if Joe Danvers could only get in one of his occasional “homers” it would break up the game in favor of the local team.
Joe did connect and drove out a great hit, but alas! for the eccentricities of baseball, Whipple over in right had seen fit to play far back, and after quite a gallop he managed to clutch the ball and hold it.
Of course that gave Allandale the game. The Scranton boys seemed pretty “sore” over their first defeat, but considering the hard luck that had been their portion, they felt that they had not done so badly after all.
“Just wait!” they told the laughing Allandale fellows, “there’s another day coming when you’ll have to face Alan Tyree; and the chances are two to one you’ll not find that boy such easy picking. You’re in great luck today, Allandale; so make the most of it. He laughs longest who laughs last; and Scranton is wagering dollars to doughnuts that it’ll be our turn next!”
CHAPTER XIV
FARMER BERNARD COLLECTS HIS BILL
“Come and go along with me, Hugh,” Thad Stevens was saying, some days after the defeat suffered by Scranton High at the hands of the Champs, as he bounced into his chum’s den about four in the afternoon.
“Where to?” demanded the other, looking up with a smile; and then noting the eager expression on Thad’s face he hurriedly added: “But I guess I can get pretty close to the mark without your telling me. You’re meaning to continue your campaign against our friend, Brother Lu—how about that for a guess, Thad?”
“Just what I’m up to, for a fact,” asserted Thad, with his jaws shutting in an energetic fashion. “You ought to know that I never give over, once I’m worked up like that business got me. Day and night I’ve been trying to plan a way of ridding poor deluded Matilda and her sick husband from that sleek rascal who’s fastened on them for keeps.”
“Well, what’s new in the game, Thad?” continued Hugh, picking up his cap, and in this way proclaiming his intention of joining his chum.
“Several things have happened,” admitted Thad, “though honest to goodness I can’t say that they have advanced the cause a whit. First of all Mom has capitulated, which word means she couldn’t stand the strain any longer, worrying so about Matilda going hungry for lack of sewing to do to earn food for the three of them. So she and some of the other ladies sent out a bundle, and I’ve got another down at the door right now, to carry over to the Hosmer cottage.”
“I must say I honor your mother, Thad, for being so tender-hearted,” said Hugh, warmly.
“Of course you do, Hugh,” sighed the other boy, “but it’s too bad they had to give in before that big eater was starved out, and took to the road again, where he could always make sure of begging a full meal at back doors. Now he’ll just decide to squat down and stick through the summer, yes and winter in the bargain, acting as if he might be almost dying every little while, and then recovering his appetite _wonderfully_ soon again. Oh! it makes me furious, that’s what it does.”
“Well, as you’ve asked me to go along, Thad, I’ll accommodate you; but have you any little scheme on foot today?” continued Hugh, leading the way toward the back door, since he under stood that his chum had left his bundle there before hunting him out.
“I wish I did, Hugh,” replied the other, eagerly, “but try as I may, it seems to me I just can’t think up anything worth while. After that grand scheme of ours fell so flat it took all the wind out of my sails. I’m trusting mostly to luck to have something come up that we can grab hold of, so as to give him a boost.”
They were soon on their way. Thad talked almost incessantly, and begged his companion to try his hardest to conceive some promising plan that might turn out a shade better than the one connected with that imaginary marshal from Texas.
So they presently arrived at the Hosmer cottage. Thad did the knocking. He had decided to go in at the slightest invitation, in hopes of meeting Brother Lu again, and ascertaining what the prospects were for his departing to the other world.
To the surprise of both boys, when they were admitted by Matilda they discovered the object of their thoughts seated in a chair, with a thick shawl across his shoulders. He looked as though he might be a trifle ill, too. At the sight of them one of his accustomed grins came over his face, now rough again with a three days’ growth of gray beard.
“Hello, boys!” the reformed tramp called out, as though really pleased to see them again; “you find me under the weather this time for keeps. Had one of my little bad attacks, and just beginning to feel a shade better. Perhaps I’ll go off in one of these spells some fine day, sooner or later. Matilda she’s been a good nurse to me, and I’m beginning to believe I did the wisest thing ever when I decided to hunt my last remaining blood relative up, and stay with her till the end came.”
Matilda looked pained to hear him speak in that way, but Thad was not in the least impressed. According to his mind the other had only caught a little summer cold, and which had caused him considerable distress, with its accompanying sneezing discomforts. He did not believe it was anything serious.
Determined, however, to stay a short while and study the man, in hopes of discovering some loophole through which he might be reached and made to give up his soft berth in the Hosmer home, Thad took a chair, and settled himself for a visit.
Hugh asked the man a number of questions concerning his illness, and took note of the fact that every time Brother Lu had occasion to glance toward his sister a wonderfully tender gleam would come into his blue eyes. Apparently he had learned what everybody in Scranton always knew, that Matilda Hosmer was the kindest and softest-hearted creature alive. Hugh wondered whether this knowledge might not in time cause the man to feel ashamed of imposing upon her strength and generosity, so that of his own free will he would take his departure for other scenes.
“Matilda is going to have a birthday in a few days,” he confided to the boys, at a time his sister chanced to be in the kitchen, “and me’n Brother-in-law Andrew, we’ve made up our minds to surprise her with a little present. ‘Course it can’t be anything much, because we haven’t a superabundance of ready cash; but Matilda, she’s stood by her poor old wandering brother so handsomely I’d be glad to give her a whole hundred dollars, if only I possessed that sum.”
Thad looked surprised, indeed he may have begun to suspect that after all the grizzled old hobo might not be quite so heartless as appearances would indicate. This unexampled spirit of self-sacrifice shown by Matilda was beginning to have its influence on his hard nature. As for Hugh, he listened with considerable interest, listened and sat there, watching the play of emotions across the face of Brother Lu, and forming certain opinions of his own at the same time.
While they sat there a heavy knock came at the door. Upon Matilda venturing to open the same a big man pushed his way inside, and started talking roughly in a loud, almost abusive tone.
Thad recognized him as a certain well-to-do farmer and dairyman who had an unenviable reputation as a cruel taskmaster with his hired help. He was also known to be exceedingly harsh in his treatment of any with whom he had dealings, who chanced to be unable to meet their obligations to the minute. Because he had been able to accumulate his “pile,” Mr. Abel Bernard seemed to believe everyone should be capable of doing the same. If they could not afford a thing they ought to do without it. He never took excuses from anyone. It was all business with Abel—pay up or quit, was his daily motto.
Hugh, listening, quickly determined that a little more fresh trouble had dropped down upon the poor head of Matilda. She had been taking a quart of milk a day from Farmer Bernard, and the bill had run two months and more now. He shoved an account at her in a most savage manner, Thad thought, and the boy felt as if he could have kicked the grim dairyman with rare good pleasure to settle the account.
As for Hugh, if he had chanced to have the money with him just then he would only too gladly have loaned or given it to Matilda, so that she might get rid of the abusive farmer, whose very tone was harsh and rasping.
“It’s my rule never to let anybody get away with more than a second month’s milk,” the big man was saying in that loud, abusive voice of his. “You asked me to let the account go on another spell when I handed you the same before, and now you tell me you haven’t got the five dollars it calls for because some old tramp of a brother that you haven’t seen for twenty years has dropped down on you, and had to be taken care of. Well, Mrs. Hosmer, I’m not helping to run a hospital, let me tell you; I’ve got all I can do to look after my own folks. You mustn’t expect me to deliver you any more milk till you can pay this; and I hope you’ll get the cash soon, too, because I’ve some accounts of my own I want to settle.”
Matilda was near tears, for such a scene as this frightened her. Poor old Mr. Hosmer tried to bustle forward and enter into the conversation; but the husky dairyman just brushed him aside as though he were no more than a child.
“I’m not talking to you about it, Mr. Hosmer,” he went on to say, almost brutally; “it’s your wife I do business with. I’ll be looking to her to settle my account. And if what I hear honest folks a-sayin’ is near true, the sooner she gets rid of her disreputable brother the better for all concerned.”
Matilda’s eyes flashed.
“You need not add insult to injury, Mr. Bernard,” she flashed, showing a little touch of spirit that Hugh hardly believed she possessed. “He is the only living tie to bind me with my long past childhood. We were once very fond of each other; and now that poor Luther has fallen sick, and fears he has not long to live, I mean to stand by him, no matter how people talk.”
Brother Lu looked as though this sort of thing gave him something akin to joy. He even shot a tender glance across at Matilda, and then a triumphant one toward the two boys, as though to say: “Didn’t I tell you my sister had a tender heart?”
Then he got on his feet. He really seemed a trifle weak, showing that he had actually been under the weather latterly.
“How much does my sister owe you, man?” he demanded in as stern a voice as he could command.
“Oh! does that interest you at all, Mister Weary Willie?” sneered the irate farmer; “well, if you want to know, my account is an even five dollars. Perhaps, now, you’ll put your hand into your jeans pocket and hand out that amount with pleasure.”
“I’ve got that much tied up in my old bandanna handkerchief, it happens,” said Brother Lu, to the astonishment of Thad. “It’s true me ‘nd Brother-in-law Andrew expected to do something different with my little fortune, but then let that pass. You wait till I get it, you grasping milk raiser.”
He started from the room, followed by the admiring gaze of Matilda, who evidently saw in this wonderful offer of her brother a full settlement for all the tender care and affection she had bestowed upon him during the past weeks.
Presently, after a little delay, the reformed hobo came into the room. Sure enough, he was holding a brand-new five-dollar bill in his extended hand, and there was a look of actual pleasure to be seen on his grizzled face.
“There you are, Mister Man,” he said as he thrust the money at the farmer; “now you sign that bill in a hurry, and never show your face here again. We’ll either find another party to deliver us milk, or go without.”
Hugh saw something that gave him an unexpected thrill. It was a simple matter, and no doubt escaped Thad’s attention entirely, yet it might mean a great deal. As he looked closely at the fresh and new bank bill of the denomination of five dollars, Hugh saw that it had only three distinct creases marked across its face, as though it might have been taken from some flat receptacle like a bill-book; certainly when Brother Lu declared that he had such a bill tied up in his bandanna handkerchief he prevaricated, for it would under such conditions have been crumpled instead of looking so smooth! Hugh from that moment began to smell a rat!
CHAPTER XV
THE PUZZLE IS FAR FROM BEING SOLVED
When, a little later on, the two chums came away from the Hosmer home, Thad seemed unusually quiet, for him. Hugh, noticing this, and wishing to ascertain whether the other had begun to get on the track of the truth, presently remarked:
“What makes you so glum, Thad? Coming over you rattled away like a blue streak, and now you haven’t so much as said ten words since we started back home?”
“Well, to tell you the truth,” admitted Thad, shaking his head after the manner of one who is sadly puzzled, “I just don’t know what to say, after seeing that little affair.”
“Do you mean you feel badly because Matilda was so reduced in finances that she couldn’t even meet a small account like her milk bill?” asked Hugh, fishing for a bite.
“Why, yes, partly that,” said Thad, slowly; “but it knocked me all in a heap to see that old rascal of a Brother Lu walk out with the last dollar he had in the wide world, and gladly hand it over to liquidate that same account. Say, if we didn’t just know he was a bad one, I’d call that a really generous act.”
“Oh,” chuckled Hugh, “not so very generous, after all, when you come to examine things closer. Don’t forget, Thad, that he’s been sponging on that poor couple for a good many weeks already; and then, if our calculations are correct, he means to fasten on them for keeps.”
“That’s so,” agreed the other, heaving a sigh as though he felt somewhat relieved in his mind to have his comrade point out a solution to the problem. “Of course, he’s imposing on his relatives something shameful, and the least he could do was to toe the scratch when an emergency came along. But he did the thing up brown, I must admit.”
“And then again, how do we know that five dollars was every cent he had in the world?” asked Hugh, insinuatingly.
“He said as much,” declared Thad, instantly; and then laughed as he hastened to add: “though for that matter what would one little white lie mean to a fellow as case-hardened as an old hobo? There’s another thing I’m thinking about, Hugh.”
“I can guess it,” the second boy immediately told him. “You’re wondering what it was Brother Lu meant to buy with his little fortune, eh?”
“Well, five dollars isn’t so _very_ much when you come to think of it, Hugh, but to a tramp it might seem a pile. But didn’t he tell us he and Brother-in-law Andrew had some sort of a little scheme hatched up to give Matilda a surprise on her birthday, tomorrow, Saturday?”
“Just what he did,” admitted Hugh. “They’ve been plotting how to spend five dollars recklessly, so as to get the most for their money. Such men are apt to find heaps of enjoyment in blowing in their money a dozen times, and changing off just as often. I wouldn’t be surprised a bit if they even calculated whether they could run across a nice little home that they could buy and present to Matilda for a birthday present—faithful, big-hearted Matilda.”
“What! for five dollars!” ejaculated Thad, and then he laughed; “but, of course, you’re joking, Hugh. Still, it looks like a big sum to men who’ve seldom handled as much at a time; and I guess a confirmed tramp never does. I hope, though, he didn’t steal that money.”
“What makes you say that, Thad?”
“Oh! I don’t know, but it looked so nice and fresh and new. Great Jupiter! Hugh, you don’t think for a minute, do you, that it might have been a counterfeit bill?”
Hugh shook his head.
“Lots of things may turn out to be counterfeit, Thad, men as well as bank bills, but that one was perfectly good. I could even see the colored threads of silk fiber that the Government uses in the paper to protect the currency. So don’t let that bother you again.”
“I’m glad to hear you say so, because it would be terrible if poor Matilda should get into more trouble on account of passing bad money. But is this going to alter our plans any, Hugh?”
“I don’t see why it should,” came the steady reply.
“We’ll continue to do business at the old stand, shall we, then?” pursued Thad; “and try our level best to find out some way to force that leech to let go the hold he has secured on his sister?”
“We’ll keep on trying to learn something about Luther that will give us an advantage, so we can make him do just what we want,” explained Hugh; and it might have been noticed that he was now very particular just what words he used when he spoke of the reformed tramp.
“Huh! there’s only one answer to that,” grunted Thad; “which is to influence him to move on his way, and clear out. Scranton will never miss Brother Lu; and the wide world he loves so well beckons to him to come on. After all, once a tramp always a tramp, they say; and as a rule such fellows die in the harness.”
“It’s really a disease, I’ve read, like the hookworm down South, that makes so many of the poor, underfed whites in the mountain districts seem too lazy for any use. It gets in the blood when they are boys, and they feel a strong yearning just to loaf, and knock around, and pick up their meals when and where they can.”
“Well, I can believe a part of that, Hugh, but the meal end is too much for me to swallow. Whoever heard of a tramp who didn’t respond to a dinner-bell on a farm? Eating and sleeping are their long suits, and they can beat the world at both. When it comes to going in swimming now, they draw the line every time, for fear of taking cold, I reckon. But I own up Brother Lu Isn’t a bad looker, now that he’s reformed far enough to keep his face and hands clean, and wear Mr. Hosmer’s Sunday-go-to-meeting suit of clothes, which just fits him by squeezing, and turning up the trouser-legs several inches at the bottom.”
“Yes, he isn’t a bad-looking man, and if we didn’t know how fierce he seemed at the time we first ran across him in the patch of woods, we’d hardly dream he’d ever been down and out. Matilda’s cooking seems to agree with him.”
“Shucks! it agrees too well with him, and that’s the trouble. Now, I wonder if there could be any way to make him sicken on his bill of fare. I’m going to think it over, and see if I can evolve a scheme along those lines.”
“You’ll find it hard to do,” suggested Hugh, “because he eats just what Andrew does, I suppose; as for Matilda, I do believe she stints her appetite so as to be able to give her sick charges their fill.”
“She does look thinner than before, that’s a fact!” exclaimed the indignant Thad. “What a burning shame all this is, Hugh! Surely there must be some remedy for it. I’ve got a good notion to have a talk with Dominie Pettigrew, and spin him the whole painful story. He might find a way to separate Brother Lu from his quarry.”
“Take my advice, Thad, and wait a little longer,” Hugh told him. “Tomorrow will be Saturday and we play Belleville again in the afternoon. Besides, didn’t he tell us it was going to be Matilda’s birthday, and that he and Andrew had fixed it to surprise her a little? Well, don’t say anything to the Parson until next week, and by that time perhaps we’ll know a heap more than we do now.”
Thad looked keenly at the speaker, but Hugh kept a straight face. If a glimmering suspicion that Hugh might know of something he was averse to confiding to even his best chum darted through Thad’s mind just then he allowed it to slip past.
“All right, Hugh, I guess it won’t do any harm to hold up a few more days. Matilda has stood it so long now that it isn’t going to hurt her to endure another week or so of her brother’s company, and his appetite in the bargain. I’ll try and forget all about it in thinking of our game with Belleville. We’ve just got to clinch that, as sure as anything, if we hope to have a look-in at that pennant.”
“We’re going to do it, Thad,” said Hugh, with set teeth. “Once we put Belleville in the soup for keeps we can devote our undivided attention to Allandale. They have the jump on us, of course, owing to hard luck. But, thank goodness, Alan Tyree is all right again, and he told me this morning he felt that his arm was better than ever before. That means Belleville won’t be able to do anything with his delivery tomorrow afternoon.”
“This time we play on our own grounds,” suggested Thad, “and the advantage is all in our favor. Everybody seems to think we should have an easy snap.”
“I rather think everybody stands for Ivy Middletown, Sue Barnes and Peggy Nolan,” jeered Hugh, causing his chum to give a confused little laugh, as though the shot had gone home. “But what do girls know about baseball? It’s a game of uncertainties all the way through. Many a time a pitcher, believing himself safe and invincible, because his club is away ahead, has eased up a trifle, and the other fellows start a batting bee that nearly puts the fat in the fire, and gives him the scare of his life. Belleville went down to defeat last Saturday before Allandale, and the score looks rotten, but you remember they fought like tigers.”
“You’re right, Hugh.”
“And only for some hard luck they would have started a streak of hitting that might have pulled them out of the hole. Half a dozen fierce drives were taken on the run by Allandale fielders, any one of which, if sent ten feet one way or the other, would have counted for a three-bagger easily. That’s how luck has a hand in defeating a team, and there’s no way of denying it, either.”
“Well, we mean to put up our best sort of game, and not count it won till the last man goes down in the final inning,” avowed Thad.
“It’s always wise to play safe in baseball,” declared the field captain of the Scranton High team, “and take nothing for granted. Hit as hard as you can every time you’re at bat, and don’t allow yourself to be tempted to ease up out of sympathy for the other fellows. It’s scant sympathy they’ll show you, once they get at your prize pitcher, to knock him out of the box. Instead it’ll be jeers, and taunts, and every sort of thing calculated to sting.”
“But after the game’s been won?” expostulated Thad.
“Oh, that’s a different thing,” admitted his chum. “Then we feel that we can afford to be generous without being put in a possible hole. Every true player is ready to take off his cap and give a beaten rival a hearty cheer. It sort of eases up the sting of defeat a bit, too, as all of us know.”
As they parted at the gate in front of Thad’s home he once more returned to the subject that had such a strong hold on his mind.
“If anything crops up that you think would interest me, about that tramp, of course, I mean, Hugh, please give me the sign, won’t you?” Thad asked.
Hugh did not seem disposed to take his chum into his confidence just then; perhaps he wanted to make more certain that his faint suspicions were well grounded before committing himself to a disclosure.
“Sure I will, if I learn anything positive, Thad,” he merely said; “and in the meantime we’ll keep tabs on Brother Lu’s eccentric actions, hoping to catch him off his guard,” and later on Thad realized that these last words were rather significant.
CHAPTER XVI
AN ADVENTURE ON THE ROAD
On Saturday morning Hugh had an errand that took him out of town. Once again it was to the farm where his mother secured that lovely sweet butter, without which the hot biscuits would never taste quite so fine. And as her customary supply had not turned up, with Sunday just ahead, nothing would do but that Hugh must take a little run out on his wheel, and fetch several pounds home with him.
It was about half-past eight when he threw himself in the saddle and started. A more charming summer morning could hardly be experienced. The sun might be a bit hot later on, but just then the air was fragrant with the odor of new-mown grass, the neighbors’ lawns having been attended to on the preceding day, but not raked up; the birds sang blithely in the hedges and among the branches of the trees, and in Hugh’s soul there rested the joy that a tired high-school scholar finds when the end of the week brings a well-deserved holiday.
As he rode quietly along, not desiring to be in too great a hurry, Hugh’s mind somehow reverted to the last occasion when he had gone out to this same farm, in Thad’s company, as it happened. He could again in imagination see the old tramp as he got his solitary meal, with the aid of those useful empty tomato cans, and the little blaze he had kindled among the trees alongside the road.
Passing the spot revived these memories vividly. To think that weeks had gone and all that time Brother Lu had stuck to his guns, holding out at the humble Hosmer cottage, and eating the bread of dependence!
“But something tells me the end is coming pretty soon now,” Hugh muttered, as he continued on his way.
It was not so very far beyond that identical spot he discovered a large car standing at one side of the road, where the woods grew quite thickly. The chauffeur sat there, idly waiting, it seemed. Hugh had more than once known the same thing to happen, when parties touring from some neighboring town stopped to eat lunch in a spot they fancied, or, it might be, to gather wild flowers.
He was not much interested as he passed, with a nod to the man, who looked around at his approach, save to notice that the car was a pretty fine one, and which he remembered seeing once or twice in Scranton, always empty save for the driver.
Hugh had just turned a bend lying a little away from the car when he distinctly saw some one hastily jump aside, and disappear amidst a screen of bushes growing along the road.
“Now, that was queer,” Hugh told himself; “whoever that fellow could be he didn’t want me to see him, it looked like. And by the same token there was something familiar about him, though I only had a faint glimpse, he jumped so fast.”
As he slowly rode past the bushes he heard no sound. Hugh considered it good policy not to betray the fact that he had noticed anything out of the way; he did not as much as turn in the saddle, but continued to look straight ahead along the dusty white road.
There was another bend a short distance away. No sooner had he turned this than Hugh was off his wheel like lightning, and running back to take a look, as though his curiosity might have been aroused.
What he saw caused him to give a low whistle. Out of the bushes came a form he recognized. It was a rather compact figure upon which he gazed, and the clothes greatly resembled Brother-in-law Andrew’s Sunday-best. Yes, Hugh no longer had any doubts, for the man was no other than the reformed hobo.
“I’ve known that Brother Lu had taken to tramping about the country latterly,” he muttered to himself, as he watched the other going off, apparently laughing as though greatly amused, “for a number of people have told me as much. That’s all right, but why should he want to hide from me? I’ve got a good notion to chase after him, once he turns that other bend, and see what it all means.”
The idea must have appealed more and more strongly to Hugh then, for two minutes afterwards, when the form of the tramp could no longer be seen ahead, he went back to his wheel, mounted, and retraced his course until he arrived at the second abrupt curve.
Again he dismounted and crept forward to see what he might discover. Strange to say, Hugh, usually steady-going Hugh, now found himself trembling all over, just as though he anticipated making a startling discovery.
Well, he did.
Brother Lu was in plain sight. He was just approaching the stalled car that stood at the side of the road. Watching, Hugh saw the chauffeur jump from his seat, and he plainly saluted the other most respectfully. Hugh paid particular attention to that part of the affair, because any pedestrian might have stopped to pass a few words with a car driver, or ask a question; but the pilot would hardly have made that positive sign unless there was a reason for his action.
Now they seemed to be talking earnestly. Brother Lu made gestures, and Hugh took notice of the fact that he seemed to be speaking with authority, because the chauffeur constantly nodded his bead, as if to say that he understood.
Then the man took something from under the front seat cushion of the car and handed it to Brother Lu. Hugh could not be positive, but he rather fancied it was a packet of folded papers.
Plainly, then, there was a conspiracy afloat. Brother Lu was other than he pretended to be, and he was undoubtedly hatching up some sort of plot that had connections with the peace of mind of the two simple Hosmers who had taken him in on the strength of his claim to blood relationship.
Hugh was quivering more than ever now, and his breath came in gasps as he continued to keep his eyes glued on the two figures not so far away. He wished that he were gifted with hearing keen enough to pick up what they were saying in such low tones, for then he would know everything; but this was out of the question, and he must await the subsequent turn of events.
It might have been noticed, however, that the boy’s eyes glistened as with a growing delight, from which it was easy to judge that he did not see anything so very terrible in these strange actions on the part of the reformed tramp. Indeed, Hugh acted very much as though inclined to “shake hands with himself,” as Thad was so fond of saying, when he had cause for self-congratulation.
How long they were carrying on that conversation! Once another car showed up down the road, and Hugh chuckled to notice how deftly Brother Lu assumed an humble attitude, just as though he might have simply halted to ask a question of the lordly chauffeur of the big and comfortable car.
“He’s a dandy, that’s all I can say,” muttered the amused boy, who on his part stood there as the other car whirled past, as if he might be looking for something he had lost; but on the contrary, the opposite was really the truth, because Hugh had made a great discovery and a “find” in the bargain.
Now apparently the earnest conversation between chauffeur and Matilda’s roving good-for-nothing brother had come to an end. The man entered the car again, turned in the road with the cleverness that comes from long handling of a touring machine, and, with a last respectful salute, his hand going to his cap military fashion, sped down the road, heading toward Scranton.
Brother Lu stood there as if lost in meditation. Hugh, still watching closely, and making up his mind to have it out then and there, because he could not stand the weighty load of suspense any longer, was sure the other must be in a merry frame of mind, for he laughed several times, and even slapped his hand against his thigh in a way he had, as if to emphasize his thoughts.
“Oh, you sly rascal!” Hugh was saying as he continued to observe all these significant things. “I’m beginning to size you up for what you are, all right. But just think how Thad will be stunned when I tell him all about my adventure! Why, he’ll almost believe he’s asleep, and dreaming it. There, I do think he’s turning around as if he meant to come back this way. That suits me O.K., because I won’t have to chase after him.”
Hugh thereupon prepared a surprise for the reformed hobo. He secured his wheel and stood just around the bend, trying to look severe and knowing, though his heart was beating like a trip-hammer, and he felt that his eyes must be fairly dancing with all the excitement.
In imagination he could tell just how near the other man was as the seconds passed. Hugh wondered how Brother Lu would take it upon learning that his deep-laid schemes had been discovered. Apparently the boy did not see anything to fear, or else he would have sped away on his wheel instead of remaining to charge the other with his base deception.
Then the sound of footfalls came to the waiting lad. He caught his breath, and his eager gaze was glued on the bend around which the man must speedily appear. As he walked Brother Lu had his head lowered, and consequently did not at once see that some one waited for him in the middle of the road. Indeed, he drew very near, and finally Hugh gave a sudden cough.
At that the other quickly looked up, as though startled. When he saw who it was he immediately commenced to grin after his usual custom. Somehow Hugh no longer saw anything to condemn in that broad smile that covered the face of the ex-hobo; just then, in the light of the new revelation, it seemed most kindly and benign; for circumstances alter cases, and a great deal depends upon one’s view-point as to whether an expression can be classed as merry or sarcastic.
Brother Lu did not seem to be bothered a great deal on making the discovery he did, though he must surely have jumped to the conclusion that the boy had been spying upon his late movements. He continued to advance. Hugh could detect the light of humor in those blue orbs that had always mystified him, even when he believed the other to be the worst kind of an impostor, or human leech, capable of living upon the scanty earnings of his sister Matilda.
“Hello, there, Hugh Morgan! so you concluded to turn back, did you?” the man started to say, as though inviting the other to open his batteries at once, and accuse him to his face.
“Why, yes,” said Hugh, trying to control his trembling voice, “I saw somebody jump into the bushes as if he didn’t want me to glimpse him, and of course my curiosity was aroused; so I just dismounted and came back to the other bend. Then, when I recognized you, I determined to follow a bit. You see, Mr. Corbley, I mean to settle certain matters that have been worrying both my chum and myself a heap lately—settle them once and for all.”
“Which I suppose now you’ve done for a fact, Hugh?” remarked the other, chuckling.
“I believe I have,” the boy said, firmly.
“You’ve got me sized up, all right, I imagine, lad,” continued Brother Lu.
“I’ve come to the conclusion, sir, that you are a fraud of the first water, if that’s what you want to know,” Hugh told him, boldly.
Strange to say, the ex-tramp, instead of taking umbrage at such language, bent over almost double, and laughed so hard Hugh almost feared he was about to have one of his violent fits of coughing; but he did not.
CHAPTER XVII
THE WONDERFUL NEWS
“I reckon sure my cake is dough now, since you’ve tumbled to my game, Hugh,” the late tramp was saying, presently; “and there’s nothing left for me to do but take you into camp, and give you the whole story from beginning to end.”
“I’d be glad to have you do that, Mr. Corbley,” Hugh hastened to tell him.
“Then let’s walk back a bit. I believe we can find a nice convenient log close to the road, where we’ll take things easy while I spin my little yarn. To tell you the truth, Hugh Morgan, I’ve taken a great liking to you and that chum, Thad. I’ve been sizing the pair of you up ever since I first ran across you; and say, it’s given me a heap of joy to see how solicitous you both were about my hanging out at Sister Matilda’s ranch, and eating her hard-earned bread. You boys have got the right kind of stuff in you, that’s certain. Why, there were times when I was almost afraid that impulsive chum of yours would be wanting to jump on me, and try by main force to chase me off the ground.”
“We did make one try that way, as of course you know, sir,” ventured Hugh.
“Meaning that article in the _Weekly Courier_ about the terrible marshal from Texas, Hastings by name,” laughed the other. “I’ve had lots of fun over that racket, son, I give you my word I have. Of course there’s a sheriff down there capable of doing all those stunts your friend on the paper wrote up; but his name chances to be Rawlings and not Hastings. I must have got things a bit mixed when I told you about how he took bad men into camp, and all that. But here’s the log, and we can take things easy while I confess how I’m the most tremendous impostor going.”
Hugh seemed eager to hear about it, nor was he apparently at all afraid. In fact he was looking at the reformed tramp as though he felt a positive affection for him now, in the light of the new revelation.
“First of all, Chum Hugh,” said the man, after they had settled themselves comfortably, “I want you to know that the stories I told you about my travels in foreign lands were every one of them Gospel truth. I have been all around the whole globe, and seen some queer things in my day. But let that pass, for as we are apt to see considerable of each other after this, there’ll be a plenty of time for me to continue that narrative of adventure.
“In the course of my travels I’ve really picked up several fortunes, and then lost them again almost as quickly. It didn’t much matter, because I was one of those happy-go-lucky chaps who believe the world owes them a living, and which they can get any time they more than half try.
“So the years went on, and all at once I awoke to find that I was getting old and gray. When a man passes sixty, lad, his thoughts begin to travel far back into the days of his childhood. So more and more I got to thinking of those who were everything to me. I knew that all of them had checked in but a sister, and her I hadn’t seen for twenty years and more; though I believed she was still living.
“It was down in Texas a few months ago that I had a little sick spell, and while I lay there convalescing strange fancies came into my head. I made up my mind the time had come for me to quit this foolish roaming all about the world. I couldn’t expect to live a great many years more, and why not settle down to being decent and respectable, as well as do some good with my money before I cashed in?
“That idea kept gripping me until I finally made up my mind to sell all my big holdings in the new oil wells. This I did, and banked the cash in New York—I won’t tell you what it was, lad, but six figures would be needed to cover it, and maybe seven, if all goes well with my last sale.
“But somehow an old distrust of human nature began to get a hold on me. I found myself wondering whether Matilda, if she should still be living, would welcome her long-missing brother for himself alone, or because he was close on a millionaire.
“That bothered me a heap, Hugh. Finally a bright idea came to me, and I determined to fix myself up like the worst old tramp going, and pretend to be sick, as well as out of funds. The game appealed to my liking for new adventures, and—well, you know how it succeeded. You boys became connected with the affair from the start, and I’m glad of it, for I like you both.
“All through these weeks I’ve grimly held out, though ready to call the game more than a few times when it seemed that poor Matilda was having a bigger load on her shoulders than she could carry. But I fixed up several little schemes to ease the strain, when I decided to hold back the grand disclosure till her birthday. For one thing, I hid a ten-dollar bill in her Bible, and she never could remember putting the bill there, although she tried her best. Another time I wrote a letter in a disguised hand that was signed by a fictitious name, and which said that in a long-ago deal I had got the better of her, which my conscience wouldn’t allow; so to ease my mind I was enclosing a twenty-dollar bill to her to cover interest.
“Say, that certainly did make her lie awake and wonder, because, of course, she couldn’t remember anything of the sort; nor could Andrew. I used to listen to them talking it over again and again, and I am sure got heaps of enjoyment out of it; but I told them it was perfectly proper for them to use the money, and they did. I ate part of it up myself, Hugh.
“Now, I’m getting down to hard facts, boy. I want to let you into the great secret, and your chum ditto. Could you come over to our house, say about ten this morning, and fetch that sharp-eyed Thad along with you? There’ll be something about to happen then. We’ve already fixed it to go on a little picnic excursion and take our simple lunch along with us, just to celebrate Matilda’s birthday, you see. And I’ll ask you to go along, which you must agree to do, if you want to have the finest surprise of your life. How about it, Hugh?”
“There’s nothing that I can see to prevent us, Mr. Corbley,” the boy assured him, eagerly, “and to tell the truth wild horses couldn’t hold me back, after what I’ve already learned. I must see the end of your queer game, sir. But I’m glad that it isn’t likely to interfere with our working in the baseball match, which starts at three this afternoon on the home grounds.”
“Oh! I assure you we’ll be all through long before then, and luncheon eaten in the bargain; though it isn’t going to be the simple bill of fare that Matilda’ll be putting in the basket we’re going to carry with us. Well, Hugh, I’m going to keep you in just a little fever of suspense until then. When you and Thad show up, try to act toward me as you’ve been doing right along. Don’t call me Mr. Corbley, remember, for that might excite suspicions. Even poor simple but good-hearted Andrew, whose best clothes I’m wearing right now with brazen assurance, doesn’t dream that I’ve got more than a few dollars in the wide world. He even begged me not to squander those, saying that we could have a holiday without extra expense; but say, I told him to shut up, that if I chose to spend two dollars on my only sister it was nobody’s business. I really think Andrew has come to like me first-rate, though I’m a little afraid he misses his garments and has to curtail his customary smokes on my account.”
He laughed at the conceit until he shook all over, and Hugh, now alive to the immensity of the great surprise that awaited the gentle couple, found himself obliged to join in the merriment.
Shortly afterwards Hugh started off to finish his errand. He rode with speed now because of his eagerness to get back home and look up Thad, upon whom he meant to let loose a bombshell that must fairly stagger him.
It was not yet nine o’clock, and ten was the appointed hour when they were expected to join the picnic party. Hugh believed he had never in all his life felt one-half so joyous. If a fortune had come his way he could not have appreciated it as much as he did the knowledge that Matilda and Andrew were going to reap the reward of their long life of tender-heartedness in their relations with their fellows. It was simply grand, and Hugh felt that his mother must know all about it as soon as the affair had developed to the grand finale and Matilda’s eyes were opened to the fact that she had all this while been entertaining an angel unawares.
Thad was at home and up to his eyes in rewinding a fishing-rod that needed attention. When Hugh burst in upon him with such a glow in his face and a light in his eyes, Thad knew that something bordering on the wonderful must have occurred.
Singular to say, his first remark was pretty near a bull’s-eye, showing that he must have been thinking about the ex-hobo as he wound the waxed red silk around the guides of his fishing-rod.
“What’s happened, Hugh? Oh! have you found a way we can get rid of that sticker of a Brother Lu? Something seems to whisper to me you’ve struck a scheme. Pitch right in and tell me all about it, Hugh.”
“There has a way come up, sure enough,” said Hugh, beaming on his chum, as well might the bearer of such glorious news. “After today that tramp will never eat another mouthful of food at the expense of his poor sister and brother-in-law!”
“Then he’s going to skip out, is he?” burst from the delighted Thad. “Bully for that! However did it happen, Hugh; and what sort of a hand in it did you have?”
“I don’t claim the least credit for it,” he was firmly told; “and for that matter Mr.—I mean Brother Lu, isn’t going to shake the dust of Scranton off his feet, yet awhile at least. Something else has happened to bring about the change. Here, I just can’t hold the wonderful news in any longer, Thad. Listen!”
Accordingly Hugh started to pour out the story. He had Thad sitting there and almost ceasing to breathe, so deeply interested was he in everything. When Hugh got to where he discovered the ex-tramp talking with the chauffeur of the big touring car, and seemingly with authority, Thad jumped up and began to dance around excitedly.
“Oh, joy unconfined! I’m just beginning to glimpse how it’s going to turn out, that’s what I am, Hugh!” he exclaimed, trembling all over with the violence of his emotions. “Wouldn’t that be the limit, though, if this old hobo proved to be the good fairy coming in disguise to prove the worth of the ones he meant to assist? Go on and tell me the rest, like a good fellow, Hugh. Is he very rich; where did he make all his money; was that his fine big car, and his chauffeur; was he just testing Matilda and Andrew to prove how they were true gold? It’s the greatest thing that ever happened for Matilda, for Andrew; ditto for you and me, because we’ve had a hand in it all, haven’t we, Hugh?”
The rest of the amazing story was soon told. Thad shook hands with his chum again and again. He fairly bubbled over with enthusiasm.
“I’m so glad, so glad, for Matilda’s sake!” he kept saying. “I warrant you now that fine brother of hers has got some wonderfully big thing up his sleeve; and so we’re invited to go along and see the fairy story through, are we, Hugh? How long do we have to wait before making a start for the Hosmer cottage? I wonder if Matilda’ll care if we keep company with them on their picnic? First thing she’ll do will be to run back and add some more to the basket, because she knows how boys can eat like a house afire. I don’t see how I can stand it waiting nearly a whole hour; but then there are a hundred other questions I’m burning to ask you.”
Time passed while they sat there in Thad’s room and talked. Hugh was compelled to relate every little incident over again, and amidst all sorts of comments on the part of the other. Finally Hugh said it was now a quarter to ten, and that they might as well be starting out, which they proceeded to do most eagerly indeed.
CHAPTER XVIII
WHEN THE WIZARD WAVED HIS WAND
“Don’t forget for a minute,” cautioned Hugh, as they started on their way toward the humble cottage home of Matilda and her husband, “that Brother Lu asked us to act quite natural when we came along.”
“I’m on,” responded Thad, though it was only with the greatest difficulty that he seemed able to repress the glow in his eyes that told of secret joy. “He means by that, you are to ask Matilda whether she’s ready for another batch of sewing stuff that both of our mothers have ready, which I happen to know is the case. And then I suppose Brother Lu will ask us to join them on their little holiday outing, since he’s made himself master of ceremonies for today. Say, will a hungry fish snap at an angleworm when it’s dangled just in front of its nose? Well, we’ll thank Brother Lu for being so kind, and as we have nothing else to do we’ll accept with celerity, eh, Hugh? Is that the programme?”
So talking and laughing, they walked on. Soon they arrived at the cottage, where they found the three inmates just getting ready to start forth. Matilda had a covered basket already packed. She welcomed the two lads with a happy smile. Birthdays came and went in her life just as they did with other people, only as a rule there was scant reason to celebrate them, save as they marked the fact that Matilda was “getting old.”
But somehow the presence of cheery Brother Lu seemed to have started something. Possibly, although Matilda could not dream of what was coming, some intuition caused her to feel that this day was to be different from any other in her past. A sense of something good impending may have thrilled her poor pulses, though if asked why she found any particular reason for smiling, and throwing off her yoke of worry for a brief spell, she could have given no intelligent answer.
Brother Lu bustled up. He seemed very important, indeed.
“Glad to see you, boys,” he said, holding out his hand, which Thad actually seized eagerly; although just a few hours before he had been telling himself how delighted he would be to form one of a party of determined fellows who might visit the Hosmer cottage at midnight, and warn the ex-hobo to clear out of the neighborhood on penalty of having something decidedly unpleasant happen to him if he refused. But then that was before Thad had heard the wonderful story which Hugh unleashed, and fired at him as he sat there gaping and listening and slyly pinching his thigh so as to learn whether he were awake, or asleep and dreaming.
“Looks like you folks might be going on a picnic somewhere?” remarked Hugh, taking his cue from something Brother Lu had said to him before.
“Just what we expect to do, lads,” hastily replied the other, with a wink, when he believed neither of the Hosmers was looking at him. “You see, this happens to be Tilly’s birthday. She hasn’t had a real one for ever so long, and Andrew and me, why, we’ve fixed it that she should take a holiday from her drudgery and we’d all go off for a little lark. Now, perhaps you two would like to keep us company. How about that, boys? You’ve been pretty kind to my sister, and we all feel that you’re our good friends. What do you say about tagging along? In my walks about this section of country, I’ve chanced to make a few acquaintances. One of these is managing a kind of pretty place about two miles away from here; and he suggested that I fetch my sister and brother-in-law across country today. He reckoned that they’d kind of enjoy looking over the nest his employer has bought and fitted up, though he ain’t really taken possession yet. Tilly, tell Hugh and Thad they’ll be welcome to a snack with us at noon. This is a day we all want to remember, you know. Let tomorrow and dull care look out for themselves. That’s the tramp’s motto.”
Matilda readily complied, and she meant it from the bottom of her heart too, for she was becoming very fond of both boys. Doubtless when she carried the basket back into the house to add to its contents, she must have swept the pantry clean. But as Brother Lu said, why bother about the future when they meant to have a whole day free from carking care. Tomorrow would be time enough to take up the heavy burdens of life again.
And so they started forth, chatting, and so far as appearances went, quite happy. Thad was in a fever of suppressed excitement. He felt certain that that splendid car would come into the little drama somehow or other; and for once he guessed aright.
“There’s a car on the side of the road that has stopped to let the driver do a little repairing, I guess,” remarked Brother Lu, quite innocently. “And say, I know that man right well. We’ve talked several times when I was roving around seeing what the country surrounding Scranton looked like. He even calls me Lu and I know him as Jerry. He’s a pretty decent sort of fellow in the bargain. Why, he even said that sometime when he didn’t have the boss along with him, he’d like to give all of us a little joy ride. Tilly here told me only yesterday she never had been out in a car except once in a little broken-down flivver; and then she had to walk back home, nearly three miles. I wonder if Jerry wouldn’t pick us up and take us over to the Hoover place right now. I’ve a good mind to ask him. Would you like it, Tilly?”
Would she? Matilda’s sparkling eyes proclaimed that it would give her infinite delight; and so Brother Lu, with the assurance that every ex-tramp possesses in abundance, stepped up to the man who was putting his tools away in the chest where they belonged.
Jerry made an involuntary gesture with his right hand. He had been about to touch his cap respectfully, but caught himself just in time.
“Hello, Jerry!” sang out the breezy one, giving the chauffeur a hearty slap on the shoulder that must have somewhat astonished him; “you told me you’d be right glad to give my folks a little joy ride if the chance ever came along. We’re heading right now for the Hoover place, and would be obliged to you to give us a lift, because we’ll have to walk all the way back; and brother-in-law Andrew here isn’t a well man. How about it, Jerry, old top?”
Jerry grinned as though enjoying the joke.
“Sure I can—Lu,” he managed to say, though it evidently came a bit hard for him to be so familiar with his rich employer’s first name. “Just bundle in, and we’ll take a round-about way there. I can give you half an hour, easy enough, and the old man need never know the difference in the gas supply.”
They all got in, “old man” and all, for the car had supplementary seats to be used in emergencies, being built for seven passengers. Thad and Hugh were trying hard to keep from exhibiting broad grins on their faces; though, for that matter, neither of those simple, guileless souls would have suspected the least thing had the boys laughed outright in their happiness.
They had a splendid ride, and must have covered many miles while that wonderful half-hour was being used up. Matilda looked supremely happy. Now and then Hugh saw her glance rest admiringly on Brother Lu. She must have begun to believe that after all the coming of this poor sick brother of hers, who had appeared so forlorn, and with such a dreadful and alarming cough, was gradually emerging from his chrysalis stage, and becoming a full-fledged magician.
Greatly to the amusement of the boys, Brother Lu would every little while ask Matilda how she liked such a car, and seemed to chuckle