CHAPTER IV
CATCHING A TARTAR
"Now!" exclaimed Paul, suddenly.
At the word a number of dark figures sprang erect, coming out of thedenser shadows alongside the gate in the high fence back of the Kenwoodgrounds.
Ward was of course startled. The whistle came to an abrupt termination.Perhaps he may even have recognized the voice that called out this oneword in such a tone of authority; for while he did not make any outcryhe turned as if to flee.
It was already too late, for Bobolink, as if forseeing some such clevermove on the part of the slippery customer, had so placed himself that hewas able to cut off all retreat.
Then many hands were clutching the garments of the banker's son, anddespite his vigorous struggles he found himself held. While it was farfrom light back there, he seemed to be able to divine who his captorswere, judging from the way he immediately broke out in a tirade ofabuse.
"Better keep your hands off me, Paul Morrison," was the way he ranted;"and you too, Bobolink and Jud! What d'ye mean holding me up like this,right at our own gate too? I'll tell Chief Billings about it, andperhaps you'll find yourselves pulled in. Let go of me, I tell you! Howdare you grab me this way?"
It need hardly be said that not one of the boys addressed showed theleast intention of carrying out the wishes of the speaker. In fact, totell the truth, each one of the scouts seemed to tighten his grip.
One thing Paul noticed, and this was the fact that Ward did not raisehis voice above an ordinary tone. He was angry, possibly alarmed, too;but somehow he did not seem to care about shouting so as to arouse hisfolks.
From this it was easy for Paul to guess that Ward must have been orderedto remain indoors on this night; and did not wish his father to know hehad been roaming the streets with Ted Slavin and his cronies. Of lateTed had been getting into unusually bad odor with the town people, andperhaps Mr. Kenwood was trying to break off the intimacy known to existbetween his son and the prime prank player of Stanhope.
"See, his hat's gone, Paul!" exclaimed Nuthin.
"Huh! what of that?" echoed the ever ready Ward, "guess I loaned it toanother fellow who lost his, and had the toothache."
It may have seemed an ingenious excuse to him, and one calculated tocast doubts on any accusation that might be made, with the idea ofconnecting him with the boy who rang the big bell. Paul, however,believed he could afford to laugh at such a clumsy effort to crawl outof the responsibility.
"Peter," he said, briskly, "you look him over, and see if you can find ablack mask in any of his pockets. You know I told you the fellow who ranout through the church after dropping the bell rope had his face hiddenback of such a disguise."
Ward gave utterance to an exclamation of surprise. Evidently this wasthe very first that he knew about the presence of the sexton.
"Don't you dare do it, Peter," he said, struggling violently to breakthe hold of his captors, but without success; "don't you put a hand inmy pocket, you old fool, or I'll get you bounced from your job so quickyou won't know what struck you! Leave me alone, I tell you!"
That was the customary cowardly threat Ward made when he found himselfcaught in any of his madcap pranks. His rich father was a man ofconsiderable influence in Stanhope, and many a man dared not treat thebanker's son to the whipping he so richly deserved simply because itmight be that his bread and butter depended in a measure on the goodwill or the whim of the magnate.
But the sexton did not seem to be disturbed. Perhaps he had littlereason to believe Mr. Kenwood could influence the trustees of the churchto dispose of his services. Then again, it might be that he received sosmall a sum for taking charge of the property, that he cared littlewhether he kept his job or not.
At any rate, be that as it might, Peter lost no time in starting tosearch the pockets of the squirming prisoner. Ward tried in every way hecould devise to render this task difficult; but then Peter had half adozen lads of his own over in the little white cottage near the church,and was doubtless accustomed to handling obstreperous boys.
"Vat is dis, poys?" he asked, as he drew something into view.
There was an immediate craning of necks, and then from several came thesignificant cry:
"It is the black mask, all right! He's the guilty bell-ringer, Peter!"
"What's all this you're talking about, you sillies? I never saw thatthing before. Somebody must have stuck it in my pocket for a joke!" andWard stopped struggling, as if he knew it would no longer be to hisadvantage.
When caught in a hole he could whip around like a flash, and change histactics almost in an instant.
"Oh! is that so?" remarked Paul, with a laugh; "well, I happened toremember just now I saw a mask that looked very much like this, down inthe corner of Chromo's news-store a few days ago. Now, I'm going to askPeter to take it to him, in my company, and find out who bought it. Atthis time of year there isn't such a sale for these things but what Mr.Chromo will remember."
"Huh! think you're smart, don't you, Morrison? Even supposing I did buyit, you can't prove I ever wore it. I defy you to," Ward gritted histeeth; and somehow his manner reminded Paul of a wolf at bay.
"Snap!"
The match which Paul struck flared up. Ward was staring at his captor, asneer on his handsome face.
"Hold up his hands, fellows," said the young scout leader, suddenly; andalmost before the prisoner realized what this move might mean, theburning match hovered over his blackened hands.
Peter uttered a snort of delight.
"Dot fix it mit you, mine friendt," he said, nodding his grizzled headas if pleased to find that Paul's prediction had come true. "Dey dellsme dot poy vat rings de pell undt runs drough de church, he have hishand placked like he vas a negro. Dot pe you, Misder Ward Kenvood. Ischnaps mine fingers at your vader's influenza. I shall dell de drusteesof de church who rings dot pell. Den it pe up to dem to say vat shall pedone. Let him go, poys!"
Of course Bobolink, Jud and Nuthin immediately released their hold onWard. The last flicker of the expiring match showed that the recentprisoner was scowling most hatefully, as if angry at the way he had beentrapped.
"This isn't the last of this, you fellows!" he said, trying to keep uphis customary threatening tactics, even in defeat. "Perhaps you think itsmart to set up a game on me, just because you're afraid I'll organize ahike of my friends that'll walk all around that punk expedition ofyours! But just wait; I'll show you that you're barking up the wrongtree. Bah!"
He turned his back on them with this last exclamation, intended to showhis utter contempt. Passing through the gate he vanished from theirsight. But Paul, who knew the fellow so well, felt quite sure that hewould never venture to complain to his father, as he had threatened, forthat course would disclose the fact that he was out, and bring troubledown on his own head.
"Back to your meeting place, fellows," said Paul; "and you keep thatmask, Peter. To-morrow I'll drop in on you, and we'll see Mr. Chromo. Idon't suppose anything will ever be done to Ward about it; but anyhow wecan convince the trustees who were so kind as to let us use thegymnasium once a week, that we didn't abuse their confidence. And that'sworth while."
Accordingly the scouts trooped back to the place from which they hadstarted, where they found that Jack had carefully carried out the ordersgiven by his superior.
Peter was taken inside to notice the rope fastened across the aisle;together with half a dozen seat cushions distributed around, doubtlessintended to trip any pursuers who might not be wise enough to follow inthe footsteps of the fleeing culprit.
After that the boys scattered, heading toward their homes in groups. Asthey went they divided their chatter between the recent happening, andthe important news concerning the Summer "hike" that had been announcedthat night.
Paul and his closest chum, Jack Stormways, walked together, as theyusually did. They had much to confer about, and Jack now and thenlaughed as he listened to what the other was saying about the hold-up ofWard.
"I tell you that was
mighty bright of you, showing old Peter the smudgeof black on the bell rope, which proved that Ward was the fellow whojerked it," he said, giving his chum a whack of genuine boyish approvalon his back.
"Well," chuckled Paul, himself pleased over his little method of provingthe guilt of his rival, "Peter got the charcoal all over his hands whenhe ran them up and down the rope, so he knows there could be no mistake.I gave him Ward's hat to keep for the present too. But it's too much tohope that anything will be done. Even if Mr. Kenwood doesn't attend thischurch, some of the trustees are connected with him in business, eitherin his bank, or the real estate end."
"Oh! the same old story," groaned Jack. "That fellow makes me tired!When Ward gets caught, instead of putting up a bold face, he justcrawls, and threatens every one with the power of his governor. I'd justlike to see him get his, some day!"
"Hold on. Don't forget you are a scout, and that you've got to look forthe good that is in every fellow, they say," laughed his companion.
"All right," admitted Jack, slowly, "but I just guess you'd need amagnifying glass to find the speck of good in that cur. He's a sureenough slick one. All I want him to do is to keep away from me. His roomis better than his company, any day."
"I'm ready to back you up in that last remark, Jack," said Paul, "forif any fellow in Stanhope has reason to despise Ward Kenwood and hissneaky ways, I ought. You know he's been my rival in most things eversince we were knee high to grasshoppers."
"But in nearly every case he's come out of the little end of the horn,"declared Jack, warmly; "I'm ready to count on my chum getting there!"
"Oh! well," said Paul, hastily, "that's because he's nearly always inthe wrong, you know. If Ward would only turn over a new leaf, and actdecently, I'm sure he'd make a rival to be respected, if not feared."
But his chum only scoffed at such a thing, exclaiming:
"Oh! splash! you know the Bushkill will be running uphill before eitherWard or Ted act on the square. Hasn't Slavin promised to reform morethan a few times; and look at what he's doing still! Get that idea outof your head, Paul."
"Well, they did give us a run for our money to-night, to be sure,"laughed his team-mate, as in fancy he once more saw the struggling heapof boys sprawling in the aisle of the church, when they struck the ropethat had been slily stretched to trip unwary feet.
"You're right there," returned Jack, warmly, "and I can take a joke aswell as the next one; only these fellows have no respect for anything.Think of that big bell booming out at such an hour of the night, willyou? Why, it must have startled some sleepers almost out of their sevensenses."
"Let's forget it then," continued the scout leader; "for we'll have ourhands full in getting ready for that great hike up to RattlesnakeMountain. Every time I think of it I seem to have a thrill. You see I'vehad a sneaking notion I'd like to prowl around that lonesome district,and learn for myself what it looks like; and now we've made up our mindsto do it, I just can't hardly realize it."
"A bully good plan, and I know we're going to have the time of ourlives. Look, who's coming over there, Paul?" and Jack allowed his voiceto sink as he spoke, just as though he wished to avoid being heard bythe party he indicated.
"Why, that was Mr. Clausin," said Paul, in a shocked voice, as the otherwalked past them, giving both a keen glance as he did so, while his facetook on an expression of disappointment.
"Yes," murmured Jack, in a disturbed tone, "and how changed he looks!There must have been something about those stolen papers more than anyof us know. He's been to the feed store again to make another search.Perhaps he can't get it out of his head that he didn't hide themsomewhere. Poor man, I wish we could help him get them back. Joe's agood fellow, and a true scout. I'd be mighty glad to see him look happyagain."
"So would I," said Paul, earnestly; "but hold on--don't show that you'reinterested, only step aside into this shadow. There's some one followingMr. Clausin, and when he passes that electric light over there I justmust get a peep at his face. Whoever he is, Jack, I believe the fellowis a stranger in Stanhope! 'Sh!"
"Oh!" gurgled Jack, clutching his chum's arm convulsively.
Banner Boy Scouts on a Tour, Page 5
