Stoner's Boy

by Robert F. Schulkers

  But Link was thinking about something else. “Say Hawkins,” he says, “that was purty good popcorn old Doc Waters had up in his office a couple of days ago; let’s go up and get some more.”

  Which we did.

  CHAPTER 19

  Plot for Revenge Fails

  MONDAY.—Us boys knew Briggen wouldn’t appreciate what we did for him. By rights he ought to have come over to our houseboat and thanked us for getting him out of Stoner’s cave prison, and told us he would act right for ever after. But no, he can’t forget anything; he has to get revenge on anybody who does him a wrong. We heard today that he has told all the Pelham fellas he would get even with Stoner’s Boy. And that means more trouble for us fellas. Stoner won’t care on what side of the river a fella lives; all he cares for is to turn the tricks on any fella what lives here, one side or the other.

  I told our captain Dick Ferris this morning that it was up to us to see that Briggen didn’t get away with any rough stuff. “If he gets Stoner sore now,” I says, “it will be up to us fellas to get him out of trouble again, and ourselves too.”

  Dick looked worried. “I wonder what Briggen intends to do?” he says.

  Bill Darby laughed. “You might as well wonder what Stoner expects to do,” says Bill. “Them two fellas are about alike; they both do funny things.”

  Dick told us to see Ham Gardner, or Dave Burns, and try to get them to help us keep their captain out of more trouble.

  We said we would.

  TUESDAY.—Doc Waters was down in our houseboat this morning when I come down. He was reading my seckatary book. He looked up as I came in the door. “Hello, Hawkins,” he says. “I see you are writing much better this week.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” I says, “you don’t know how I appreciate a compliment like that.”

  Doc smiled. “You’re all right, Hawkins,” he says. “You just need a little steering, and you’ll make your way in the world.”

  I felt cheap when Doc said that, but I says, “Doc, you always been a friend of mine. I learned a lot of things from what you told me.”

  Doc looked like it made him happy to hear me say that. “Keep it up, Hawkins,” he says. “I want to see this book every week, now, and see how you improve.”

  “All right, Doc,” I says. “I’ll be glad to show it to you.”

  Doc had to call on poor old Hiram, who is sick, so he went out, and by and by the fellas all came trooping in. We held our meeting, and before it was over it began to rain, so we couldn’t play ball in the hollow, and as it looked like an all-day rain, we all beat it for home.

  WEDNESDAY.—It rained all night and was still raining when we came down this morning. The Skinny Guy came up to the houseboat carrying an umbrella that was big enough to cover the whole bunch of us fellas.

  He grinned when he saw us fellas looking at his umbrella. “Hi, Hawkins,” he hollered. “I ain’t afraid of rain.”

  “I see you ain’t,” I answered. “Where did you get that big parachute?”

  Link closed it up and stood it beside the houseboat steps. “I swiped it,” he says. “It was up in Stoner’s hiding place.”

  I says, “Link, you better keep away from that cave now; we don’t want to start any new trouble with Stoner.”

  Link shook his head. “You don’t have to,” says Link. “Briggen’s done started some.”

  Us fellas all crowded around Link.

  “How?” asked Dick Ferris. “What did Briggen do?”

  “Nothing yet,” said Link, “because he couldn’t pull it off. Stoner is too slick for him, and when he tried to swipe Stoner’s spider automobile yesterday, he got left, that’s all. But Stoner knows he is up to something.”

  Dick looked worried and took me aside. “Hawkins,” he said, “we simply have to stop this thing before it is too late.”

  “All right,” I said, “tell me how to begin.”

  “Let me think,” said Dick.

  He thought for a little while. Then he said, “Go and get Ham Gardner; bring him over here right away, even if you have to tie him hand and foot to do it.”

  So I called Bill Darby and Jerry Moore, and we got our raincoats on and pulled a canoe out of the bushes and went acrost to Pelham.

  We found Ham Gardner and Dave Burns fixing the roof of their shack to keep the rain out, as it was leaking.

  “Ham,” I says. Both Ham and Dave turned around quick.

  “Hi,” says Ham, “what you want, Hawkins?”

  I says, “Will you come peaceful, Ham, or must we strap you up first?”

  “What’s wanted?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “Orders from headquarters,” I says. “We were just told to bring you, that’s all.”

  Ham bit his lip. He looked like he didn’t know whether to show a fight or come peaceful. But anyhow, he said, “All right, I guess your captain ain’t got nothing against me.”

  “No,” I says, “certainly not, Ham.”

  We left Dave in the shack and went acrost in our canoe. We walked right into the houseboat, where Dick was waiting. “Ham,” says Dick, “where’s your chief?”

  Ham shook his head. “Don’t know,” he says, “ever since he come back from that cave jail, he ain’t been around our camp much.”

  “Listen,” says Dick, “he is up to some mischief, and he is going to get that Stoner fella so mad that Pelham won’t be a safe place for any of you fellas.”

  Ham looked worried. He bit his lip and looked at each of us fellas. “Say,” he says, “you boys can’t expect me to make a fella like Briggen do what you order.”

  Dick waved his hand. “All right, Ham,” he says, “do as you please about it; we just wanted to warn you. That’s all. You can go back now.”

  Dick turned away, but Ham didn’t act like he was anxious to go. “I wish,” he says, “I wish you fellas could keep Stoner away from here.”

  We didn’t answer him. And when he saw we had no more to say, he turned and walked out of the houseboat.

  THURSDAY.—The rain stopped this morning, but the ground is awful soft and muddy; we can’t play around outside much yet. We held our little meeting this morning in the houseboat, and Lew Hunter played the organ while we sang some old-time songs.

  It was Ham Gardner who butted in on us and hollered, “Hawkins, where is Hawkins?”

  I stepped up and said, “What you want, Ham?’

  “Briggen has gone and done it,” says Ham, with a sulky look in his eye.

  “Done what?” I asked.

  “Come along,” answered Ham. “I’ll show you.”

  The whole bunch wanted to come with us, but I pushed them back. “Never mind,” I said. “Jerry Moore and Dick Ferris and Bill Darby will come along; the rest of you boys stay here with Lew and sing till we come back.”

  They didn’t like to stay, but when we walked down the muddy path to the river, we heard the organ start to play again, and we knew Lew Hunter had them started on another song.

  “Hawkins,” says Ham Gardner, “I got to ask your advice. I don’t want to hurt Briggen’s feelings, but I want him to stop fooling around with Stoner’s things.”

  I says, “We will take care of you, Ham.”

  Ham walked on without saying another word, till we come around the bend of the river. Then he says, “This is all the farther I am going; you fellas will have to handle Briggen yourself, and don’t let him know I brought you.”

  “All right,” I says, “where will we find him?”

  Ham pointed with his finger. “There he is, if you will look right in front of you—good-bye.”

  We all looked, and we got a supprise. Stuck in the mud on the riverbank, just at the edge of the river, was Stoner’s spider automobile, and beside it was Briggen, working with a spade, trying to dig the wheels out of the mud.

  “Good night,” I said, “if Stoner comes now, I’d hate to be Briggen.”

  I turned to speak to Ham Gardner, but he was gone. We walked up the muddy bank, our shoes sinking in the
soft ground at every step. Briggen stopped working to wipe his face with his handkachif. He looked sore when he saw us.

  “Well,” he says, “what you think you’re going to make me do now?”

  I said, “Briggen, us fellas just got you out of one scrape; now you are fixing to get into another jam with Stoner’s Boy—why did you steal his spider automobile?”

  Briggen grinned. “Listen,” he says, “you don’t think any fella can lock me up in a cave jail without me getting even, do you?”

  I smiled. “It ain’t so much getting even, is it Briggen?” I asked.

  “Sure,” he says.

  I shook my head. “No,” I says, “you can’t fool me; you just got a notion in your head to own that ugly automobile to ride in. I know you purty well, Briggen.”

  He didn’t answer but started working with his spade again.

  We watched him for a while, then Jerry Moore says, “Say, you poor boob, you ain’t going to get that machine out of this mud without a derrick.”

  Briggen looked up. “Who’s asked you for advice?” he says.

  We laughed. Just then we heard the patter of bare feet over the muddy bank. We looked up and saw the Skinny Guy, Link Lambert, coming toward us, carrying his giant umbrella on his shoulder.

  “Run,” he says, when he come up to us. “Run, quick; Stoner’s Boy just went into his hiding place.”

  Briggen looked up quick at the Skinny Guy, and his face turned white. “For lord’s sake,” he says, “help me get this thing out of this mud, won’t you Hawkins?”

  But I didn’t answer.

  We turned and followed skinny Link Lambert as fast as we could. Link could go faster, because his bare feet didn’t sink in the mud like our shoes did. He led the way to his pop’s houseboat, and we went in and stayed there till we thought it was safe to go home. We wondered how Briggen got along, and if Stoner saw him. But we didn’t find out.

  FRIDAY.—When I got down to the houseboat this morning, Dick Ferris was sitting by the table all by himself. “Where are the other fellas, Dick?” I asked.

  “They haven’t showed up yet,” says Dick. “Here, read this.”

  He tossed a piece of brown cardboard over to me.

  “Great guns,” I says, “has Stoner started writing notes again?”

  “Read it,” says Dick.

  I read the writing, in red pencil:

  You fellas don’t need to worry. I ain’t going to do nothing to you. I know who got my auto, and I will get him. You boys ain’t got nothing to do with it, all you got to do is to keep out of it. I will settle with the right party myself.

  Like all of Stoner’s notes, it wasn’t signed, but we knew the odd handwriting. I looked up at Dick after I read it. “Well,” I says, “that lets us out.”

  Dick looked me straight in the eye. “I don’t know if it does or not,” he says. “I ain’t so sure.”

  “Well,” I says, “it’s Briggen’s job. He did it; he will have to take his medicine.”

  “No,” says Dick, “we made Ham Gardner get into it, and Briggen is Ham’s friend. Ham likes him.”

  “What of that?” I says. “No harm will come to Ham Gardner.”

  Dick shook his head. “You can do as you like, Hawkins,” says Dick, “but if I can help Ham save his friend from trouble with this dangerous Stoner’s Boy, I’m going to do it, even if I have to do it alone.”

  Dick got up and walked to the door.

  “Wait, Dick,” I says. “Anything you go in on, I’m going to be in with you.”

  Dick turned and smiled. “I knew you would, Hawkins,” he says. “Friends always stick to their friends.”

  We met the other fellas coming down the path. Dick showed them Stoner’s note and told them all to keep out of any trouble with Stoner or Briggen. Then Dick took me down to the bank, and we pulled a canoe out and paddled over to the Pelham side.

  Ham Gardner was in his shack with Dave Burns. Dick called him outside and showed him Stoner’s note. “Don’t do anything foolish, Ham,” says Dick. “We will watch for a chanst to get Briggen out of this scrape without trouble.”

  Ham thanked us in a low voice. “But,” added Dick, “this is the last time, Ham. We ain’t going to help you fellas out of any more scrapes, no matter who’s your friend.”

  Ham says, “If we could only find where Briggen hides the spider automobile, us Pelham fellas would get it and give it back to Stoner’s Boy, but we hunted all over and can’t find out.”

  “Hunt some more,” says Dick, “and if you find out, come and tell us before you do anything.”

  Ham said he would.

  SATURDAY.—Ham Gardner was waiting for me when I came down to the houseboat this morning. “We found it,” he says, “in a place we never thought of looking.”

  “That’s right,” I says, “always the way when you’re looking for something.”

  I told him to come in the houseboat and wait till Dick Ferris came down. I unlocked the door and went in and opened the windows. Dick was the next fella to arrive. Ham told him what he told me.

  Dick says, “We will have to wait till the other fellas come down; we might need more than us three to go after this business.”

  It was nearly ten o’clock before the other fellas got down. Dick got up and told them what he intended to do, and he says, “All you fellas have got to listen closely to my orders; don’t do a thing till I tell you to.”

  Then he told Ham to lead the way. Which he did. Straight to the cliffs he took us. “Wait a minit,” I says. “If Briggen had the spider automobile in the cave, Stoner’s Boy would have found it.”

  Ham laughed low. “Not in the place Briggen keeps it,” he says. We didn’t say no more, but we followed Ham. He took us down under the cliff; the stony path led around the bottom of the rocky side, where the bank was smooth, running up to a wall covered with leaves of some kind and hanging vines that covered the side of the cliff like a curtain.

  All of a sudden Ham whispered, “Lay low, everybody.”

  We all ducked down into the bushes and lay still. “Thought I saw somebody up above us on the cliff,” whispers Ham Gardner. “Watch that place.”

  We watched it for ten minits, but we didn’t see a thing. “Doggone,” says Ham. “I would of sworn I saw something move up there.”

  “Look out,” says Dick, “there is Briggen, down below, by the vines.”

  We saw the vines part. Briggen held the green leaves apart and peeped out, looking this way and that. Then he moved back behind the vines again, and the vines covered up the place.

  “It’s a cave,” says Ham. “It’s where he had been hiding the spider auto—”

  Just then we heard the hum of the motor. “He’s coming out,” whispers Ham. “Get him quick, Hawkins, before he can get away.”

  We started toward the vine-covered cave. But we didn’t start soon enough. “Get back there,” hollered a voice from up on top of the cliffs.

  We didn’t have time to look before the spider shot out from behind the hanging vines. At the same time a rope dropped down from the path above the place. Quick as lightning it happened; the loop of the rope closed around the figger of the driver of the spider automobile and lifted him out of the seat, like he was a rag doll.

  The spider went sailing away, and we looked up to where the rope came from. There was the gray figger of Stoner’s Boy, leaning with one hand against a tree to which the end of the rope was tied, while at the other end hung Briggen, swinging to and fro like a bag of potatoes.

  We heard a crash and turned to see the spider stopped against a tree up the bank apiece. We heard the mocking laugh of Stoner from behind the gray handkachif that hid the lower half of his face.

  “What shall I do with him?” he hollered at us.

  I jumped forward. “Set him free,” I said. “We will take care that he won’t swipe nothing from you any more.”

  Stoner didn’t move. “Listen,” he hollered, “I’ll make a bargain with you fellas. I’ll turn him
loose just this one time, if you guys will keep him away from here till I get that automobile fixed up.”

  “AT THE OTHER END HUNG BRIGGEN, SWINGING TO AND FRO LIKE A BAG OF POTATOES.”

  “You’re on,” I hollered. “It’s a bargain; cut the rope.”

  Us boys gathered under the place where Briggen hung. “By rights I ought to thrash him first,” said Stoner’s Boy, “but I got to get busy and fix that machine. I ain’t got no time to bother with him, so here he is; take him.”

  He slashed the rope with his knife. We caught Briggen as he tumbled down, and set him on his feet, and turned his face toward Pelham.

  “Lead on, Ham,” says Dick. We marched back without looking around once. We got up to our houseboat and made Ham Gardner get Briggen into a canoe as quick as possible. Briggen didn’t say a word, but I know he felt mean. He just knew he didn’t have a chanst to do anything but go.

  We went back to our houseboat, and Lew Hunter got our minds off Stoner’s Boy by playing the organ, and we sang old-time songs.

  It was about evening time when the Skinny Guy came in. “Hawkins,” he says, “I was just up in the cave; the spider is in his web, and the gray ghost is busy with his tools trying to fix the machine up so he can get away tonight.”

  “Well,” says Dick Ferris, “what of it?”

  Link grinned. “It’s our chanst to take him prisoner now; we never had a better chanst.”

  Dick shook his head. “No,” he says, “we will keep away from there tonight. We made a bargain with Stoner, and we are going to keep our word.”

  Which we did.

  CHAPTER 20

  The Twins Meet Stoner

  MONDAY.—Us boys went to the depot last night to meet the twins, Oliver and Harold. They came on the five o’clock train. Their school in Massachusetts was closed two weeks ago, but they stopped at their Uncle Roger’s house in Philadelphia, and came home only last night. We were glad to have them back with us, and they were glad to see us again too.

  Today we celebrated the Fourth of July, and the twins made us come up to their house, and their pop had a lot of fireworks and shooting crackers for them, and we helped to set it all off.