The Boys of Bellwood School; Or, Frank Jordan's Triumph

by Frank V. Webster

  CHAPTER VII

  THE CONFIDENCE MAN

  "All aboard!"

  Frank fancied that he had never listened to a more cheery command than thisgiven as the Western Express rolled out of the depot at Tipton.

  It was beautiful weather, a glorious day that would put life and sunshineinto an invalid, let alone a lively, happy boy escaping from what heconsidered thralldom, believing that all the joys of life were awaiting himat the end of his trip.

  Frank's aunt actually smiled and waved the lad a gracious adieu from thedepot platform. She had been quite gentle and kind to him the few hourspreceding his departure. She had put up a generous lunch for him, and hadeven unbent so far as to declare that she had believed from the first thathe knew nothing about the missing diamond bracelet. All this, however, hadbeen the preface to a dozen brief lectures on thorny ways and the darkpitfalls of life. Frank was genuinely glad to escape from the gloomyinfluence Miss Brown cast on everything bright and happy about her.

  At another part of the platform was Mace, the jeweler. He had a sullenfrown on his face, and he fixed his glance on Frank as though his eyes wereboring him through and through to discover the missing diamond bracelet.

  The wrecking of old Dobbins' house had remained a mystery. Some thought therope had been cut, while others were of the opinion that it had brokenbecause of the heavy strain put upon it.

  "Good--we're off!" jubilated Frank, as he waved a last adieu to his auntthrough the open car window, and Tipton faded away in the distance. Then hesettled down in his comfortable seat to enjoy the all-day ride to Bellwood.

  Miss Brown had doled out twenty-five cents at the depot news-stand for abook full of jokes and funny pictures. Frank soon exhausted this literaryfund. Then he bought some oranges from the train boy and had a lively chatwith him. He bought a daily paper and read it through and through, and bynoon the trip began to get a trifle monotonous.

  It was about one o'clock when the train arrived at a junction, where therewas a stop for half an hour. Frank was glad to walk about and stretch hislimbs. When leaving time came and he returned to the train he becameinterested in studying two passengers.

  A husky, farmer-looking man had entered the coach, followed by astocky-built lad about the age of Frank. The latter bore the appearanceof a boy sullen and unhappy over some circumstance. Frank thought he hadnever seen a more dissatisfied face than that of this lad. He shuffledalong after the farmer in an ungracious fashion, and taking the firstempty seat flopped into it unceremoniously.

  "All right," said his companion. "You're probably better by yourself whenyou're in one of your tantrums. Just see if you can't get some of yournatural meanness out of you while looking at the beauties of nature alongthe route."

  The boy hunched up his shoulders contemptuously without saying a word inreply, while the farmer selected a seat across the aisle and directly infront of Frank. He occupied himself looking over a weekly farm paper. Aftera while Frank crossed over to the seat occupied by the boy who hadaccompanied the farmer.

  "Going far?" inquired Frank in a friendly tone.

  The lad did not move to make room for him in the seat. He turned a sullenface on Frank. There was dark suspicion and open animosity in his eyes.

  "Far enough," he muttered.

  "It's pleasant weather, isn't it?" propounded Frank, bound to becompanionable.

  "Say," said the boy, staring pugnaciously at our hero, "trying to pick onme, are you?"

  "Why," answered the astonished Frank, "I never dreamed of such a thing."

  "Yes, you did! Lemme alone!"

  "All right," returned Frank pleasantly. "Only here's an orange and a funnybook I want you to enjoy," and he placed the articles in question besidethe boy and stepped back to his own seat.

  As he did so he met the big round face of the farmer on a broad grin. Thelatter turned around and accosted him.

  "Not very sociable, hey?" he remarked.

  "Oh, I probably seem strange to him," observed Frank.

  "He's that way all along," declared the farmer. "If he is my son, I sayit."

  "You are his father, then?"

  "The only one he's got," replied the farmer. "You see, I married hismother. She's dead, now. That boy always was a sulky, ugly varmint. Why,he'd ought to be the happiest critter in Christendom. He's got eightstep-brothers and step-sisters. Won't jibe, though. He's just unnateral,that fellow is. No living at home with him, so I'm taking his to aboarding-school."

  "Maybe he doesn't feel well all the time," suggested Frank gently.

  "What, that big, husky boy? Why, he's strong as an ox. No, sir-ree, nateraldepravity, I say. I tried to whip it out of him. It did him no good."

  "I shouldn't think it would," decided Frank mentally, and then theconversation dropped and the man returned to his paper.

  Frank felt sorry for the grumpy, sad-looking boy across the aisle. His ownloveless experience with his aunt at Tipton gave him some reason for this.The boy was worse off than he was, though, for Frank had kind-hearted,affectionate parents, while the farmer boy was motherless. The latter hadeaten half of the orange and was quite engrossed in the book given him.Frank was about to start another effort to make friends, when the traincame to a station and a passenger came aboard who diverted his interest.

  The newcomer was a tall, dark man of middle age. He had a very solemn faceand wore a black tie and choker and clothes that suggested mourning.

  There were plenty of vacant seats, but after a sharp look about the coachthis new passenger came to where the farmer sat.

  "Seat engaged, sir?" he inquired in a polite, ingratiating way.

  "No, sure not," responded the farmer heartily. "Sit down. Glad to havecompany."

  "I fear I shall not be very good company," observed the new passenger witha dismal sigh.

  "How's that, sir?" questioned the farmer curiously.

  "I'm going to a funeral."

  "Ah! Nigh relative?"

  "Yes; a brother."

  "Too bad," commiserated the farmer. "Lost my own brother last year. Billwas a hustling chap. Missed him dreadfully last plowing season."

  "My brother lives at Jayville," explained the man, naming a station twostops ahead.

  "Jayville, eh?" repeated the farmer. "Been there. Went to the bank thereonce to sell a mortgage."

  "Indeed. An uncle of mine is an official of the bank."

  "Is that so, now?" said the farmer. "There's the mayor, there, too; sort ofa distant relative of my first wife. Don't know him, do you?"

  Frank interestedly watched the stranger deftly draw from a side pocket abook. It seemed to be some kind of a country directory. Without attractingthe attention of his companion, the stranger glanced over its pages,meantime suspending conversation by pretending to have a violent fit ofcoughing.

  "The mayor," he said finally. "You mean Mr. David Norris?"

  "That's him!" exclaimed the farmer.

  "Oh, yes, I know him. He is a cousin of mine."

  "Is that so? Shake!" said the farmer. "Why, we're quite acquainted, hain'twe? Almost relatives, hey?"

  "Well!" muttered Frank under his breath. "This is getting interesting. Sureas sugar, that fellow is a confidence man."