Boat Club; or, The Bunkers of Rippleton

by Oliver Optic

  CHAPTER IX

  THE STOLEN WALLET

  At school the next day, the club boat was the principal topic ofconversation among the boys. Those who had been invited to join theclub were regarded as especially fortunate. Frank Sedley was adistinguished personage, and even Tim Bunker unbent himself in somemeasure from his ferocious dignity in his attempts to conciliate him.

  "I say, Frank, you will give me a sail in your boat, won't you?" saidTim.

  "I should be very glad to accommodate you, but I don't think my fatherwill let me take any boys who do not belong to the club."

  "Can't I join the club?"

  "It is full now."

  "You can just make room for one more if you have a mind to."

  "There are only twelve oars."

  The school-bell rang then, and Frank was glad to escape furtherimportunity on the subject. Tim Bunker was dissatisfied with himselfand everybody else. He had seen the magnificent boat which Frank owned,and in which he and his companions had had such a glorious time on thepreceding afternoon. He envied them the possession of the Zephyr, andhe would have given anything to be permitted to join the club. Perhapshe would even have promised to become a better boy, for he keenly feltthe weight of those moral obliquities which excluded him from thesociety of Frank and his friends.

  But more especially did he envy Tony Weston his good luck in gettinginto the club; for Tony's admission was abundant evidence that thesocial standing of the boys had not been taken into consideration.There was no rich and poor about it; it was good and evil entirely. AndTim had always cherished a strong feeling of dislike, and even hatred,towards the poor widow's son, undoubtedly because he was a good boy,and everybody liked him. He had not forgotten Tony's interference onthe island, when he was about to thrash Frank Sedley; and among theBunkers he expressed his intention to be fully revenged.

  At recess Frank, Charles, and Tony went up to a neighbor's house closeby to get some water. When they had drunk, and were passing through thewood-house to return, Charles observed an old wallet lying on a bench.

  "Twig!" said he in his peculiar style.

  "That must be Farmer Whipple's," replied Tony.

  "Probably the farmer laid it down when he was paying somebody somemoney," added Frank.

  "I will carry it to him," said Charles. "He is out in the garden."

  "Don't meddle with it," answered Tony. "We will see him, and tell himit is here."

  "But somebody might steal it in the meantime."

  "Nobody will; I wouldn't meddle with it."

  The boys walked off towards the schoolhouse, but they did not find thefarmer in the garden.

  "He was here when we came up," said Tony. "I will find him;" and hewalked towards the barn, while Charles and Frank continued on theirway.

  Tony looked all about the premises, but he did not find the farmer.Returning to the wood-house, he found that the wallet was gone.

  "Hello, Tony," said Tim Bunker, at this moment entering the wood-house,and going to the well for a drink.

  "Have you seen Farmer Whipple, Tim?"

  "Yes; he just went into the house," replied the chief of the Bunkers.

  "Which way did he go in?"

  "Right through this way. He was just ahead of you when you came fromthe barn."

  "Oh, was he?" said Tony, much relieved.

  The farmer had taken his wallet then as he passed through, and he wassatisfied it was all right.

  "I say, Tony, what were you doing out to the barn? Hooking eggs, eh?"

  "I was not," answered Tony indignantly.

  "Honor bright?"

  "_I_ am not a thief."

  "I'll bet you ain't," drawled Tim, placing his thumb against his nose,and wagging his four fingers back and forth.

  Tony heard the school-bell ring, and waiting for no more, ran off withall his speed. Tim was so late that Mr. Hyde, the master, gave him asharp reproof for loitering by the way.

  Tim Bunker's seat was next to Tony's; and though the former persistedin annoying him, whispering in his ear something about "sucking eggs,"he tried to be patient and good-natured. But at last, when he couldendure it no more, he informed against him.

  "What do you mean by 'sucking eggs,' Tim?" asked Mr. Hyde, after he hadcalled him on the platform.

  "I saw Tony skulking round Farmer Whipple's barn at recess."

  "Did you see him have an egg?"

  "No, sir; but I thought he had been eating something."

  Mr. Hyde investigated the case fully, and Tim got punished for hisconduct in annoying his schoolmate.

  School was dismissed as usual, and the boys went home. In the afternoonTony had some work to do, and did not come.

  A few minutes after two, when the boys were all in, Farmer Whippleentered the room, apparently in a high state of excitement.

  "Where is Tony Weston?" said he.

  "He is absent this afternoon," replied Mr. Hyde.

  "I lost my pocket-book this morning."

  "Indeed!"

  "I saw Tony Weston and the Bunker boy in the woodshed a little before."

  "It was Tim Bunker, then," added Mr. Hyde in a low tone.

  "I think's likely," continued Farmer Whipple; "but Tony was there too."

  "I will state the case, and see if the boys know anything about it,"said the master.

  Mr. Hyde called the attention of the boys by ringing a little bell onhis desk, and then mentioned the loss which Farmer Whipple had metwith.

  "If any scholar knows anything about it, let him signify it."

  Frank and Charles raised their hands.

  "Frank?"

  "I saw a black wallet lying on the bench when we went up after somewater."

  "Who were with you?"

  "Tony and Charles."

  "Any one else?"

  "No, sir."

  "Why did you not take charge of it, and give it to Mr. Whipple?"

  "Tony thought we had better not touch it, and we decided to tell Mr.Whipple it was there as we went through the garden."

  "But you didn't tell me," said the farmer.

  "No, sir; we didn't find you in the garden when we came back, and Tonywent to look for you while we continued on our way."

  "Has Tony said anything to you about it since?" asked Mr. Hyde.

  "Yes, sir; he told us after school that he didn't find Mr. Whipple, andwhen he went back to the wood-house, the wallet was gone. He met TimBunker there, who told him the owner had just gone in that way."

  "Now I think on't, I paid a little bill, and I recollect of laying thewallet down on the wash-bench," said Farmer Whipple.

  "And Tim Bunker was there?" asked the master.

  "Not while we were," replied Charles.

  "Tim?"

  "Sir," answered the chief of the Bunkers promptly.

  "Do you know anything about this wallet?"

  "Don't know nothing about it."

  "Were you up there?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "You saw Tony there?"

  "Yes, sir; when I was going up, I saw him come out of the barn and gointo the wood-house."

  "Did you see Mr. Whipple?"

  "No, sir."

  Frank and Charles looked at each other. Tim's story differed fromTony's.

  "You saw Tony in the woodshed?"

  "When I went in, he was tucking away something in his pocket."

  Tony's friends were utterly confounded by this bold statement.

  "You didn't see what it was, did you?" inquired Mr. Hyde, pained by theturn the affair was taking.

  "I didn't. I thought it was an egg at first. He was kind of struck upwhen I entered, and asked me if I had seen Farmer Whipple. I told him Ihadn't. The bell rang then, and he cut away to school."

  Tim's story seemed plausible, but the master could not harbor asuspicion that Tony was guilty of theft.

  "Which pocket was it, Tim?" asked Farmer Whipple.

  "The side pocket of his linen sack."

  "Which side?"

  "The left-h
and side."

  "That will do," said Mr. Hyde; and he and Mr. Whipple conferred on thesubject.

  Frank was amazed. Tony steal the wallet! Impossible! He never could dosuch a thing.

  The conference ended, and Farmer Whipple left the schoolroom. Returningto his house, he harnessed his horse, and drove down to SquireMurdock's, the magistrate, to procure a warrant for the arrest of Tony.This he obtained; and after getting a constable to serve it, he droveto the widow Weston's.

  Tony was in the garden picking some currants to sell the followingmorning. He was hard at work, and his coat lay upon a bush near him.

  Farmer Whipple and the constable jumped over the fence and approachedhim.

  "How do you do, Mr. Whipple?" said Tony, suspending his occupation."How do you do, Mr. Headley?"

  "I am sorry to trouble you, Tony; but we've got some suspicions aginyou," began Farmer Whipple.

  "Against me!" exclaimed Tony, with a glance at the constable.

  "Sorry for it, but it looks bad agin you."

  "What have I done?" asked the poor boy, alarmed by the words of thefarmer.

  "I lost my wallet this morning, and Tim Bunker says he saw you tuckingsomething into your pocket," replied Farmer Whipple, proceeding todetail all the circumstances.

  "I am innocent!" pleaded Tony.

  "But you were there?"

  "I was there;" and Tony told his story just as he had related it toFrank Sedley.

  "All that may be; but you see, Tony, things are against you. Tim'sstory is as straight as can be. This is your coat, ain't it?"

  "Yes; you can examine that, and search the house if you like."

  The constable took the coat. The pockets were filled with variousarticles known in the vocabulary of a schoolboy. Mr. Headley thrust hishand in, and Tony confidently waited the result. Several things weretaken out and returned. It was not in that pocket.

  But the first thing the constable drew out of the other pocket wasFarmer Whipple's wallet!

  "No use, Tony," said Mr. Headley.

  "I did not know it was there; I did not put it there!" protested thepoor boy, whose face was as white as a sheet.

  I did not know It was There. _P._ 150.]

  "You must come with me, Tony; I never would have believed it," said theconstable.

  The widow Weston was called, and a statement of the case made to her.Poor, loving, devoted mother! her heart was wrung with agony. But therewas a consolation for her. Tony could not be a thief. He was innocent,she was sure, however strong appearances might point to his guilt.

  The constable took him into the wagon; and Farmer Whipple drove off tothe Rippleton jail, which was located in the village. Tony had never inhis life been so utterly cast down as when he looked into the cell towhich he was conducted. But he realized that he was not guilty, andthis feeling made the prison less terrible to him.