Steve and the Steam Engine

by Sara Ware Bassett

  CHAPTER XVI

  AGAIN THE MAGIC DOOR OPENS

  A change of trains and a brief hour's journey brought the travelerssafely to Coventry where Havens met them with the automobile.

  "This will be our last ride this fall," observed Mr. Tolman, as heloitered on the platform while the luggage was being lifted into thecar. "We shall have to put the motor up in a day or two. It will notneed much of an overhauling in the way of repairs this season, I guess,for it is comparatively new and should be in pretty good condition.There may be a few slight things necessary but nothing much. Isn't thatso, Havens?"

  "It is badly scratched, sir."

  "Scratched!"

  "Yes, sir--both inside and out. I wonder you haven't noticed it. Stillyou wouldn't unless you got it in just the right light. I did not myselfat first. There are terrible scratches everywhere. You would think tenmen had climbed all over it. Look!"

  "Oh, it can't be so bad as all that," laughed Mr. Tolman good-humoredly,evidently not taking the chauffeur's comment seriously. "The car wasnew in the spring and we have not given it very hard wear. What littleluggage we have carried has been carefully put in; I have seen to thatmyself. Only a short time ago I thought how splendidly fresh the varnishlooked. In fact, I examined it just before you were ill. It can't havebecome very much defaced since then for we have not had the car out ofthe garage except for one short excursion."

  Havens' brow darkened into a puzzled frown.

  "I don't understand it at all, sir," he replied. "I could swear thescratches were not there when I went away. If you didn't tell meyourself the car hadn't been used much I'd stake my oath it had had agreat deal of knocking about while I was gone. Look here, Mr. Tolman!Look at that, and that, and that--great digs in the paint as if peoplewith boots on had climbed over the sides."

  Mr. Tolman looked and so, with a sinking heart, did Stephen.

  "Mercy on us! I never noticed all this before!" cried Mr. Tolman, inconsternation. "What in the world--" he stopped as if he could find nowords to voice his amazement. "Look at this!" He placed a finger on abroad, clearly defined line that extended from the top of the tonneau tothe bottom. "You would think somebody had dug his heels in here and thenslid down until he reached the ground! And this! What on earth hashappened to the thing, Havens? It looks as if it had been used for agymnasium."

  Hot and cold by turns, Steve listened. The marks to which his fatherpointed told a truthful story. Somebody had braced his heels against theside and then slid to the ground; it was Bud Taylor. And that otherjagged line indicated where Tim Barclay had scrambled over the edge andmade his hurried exit. The history of the whole miserable adventure wasetched in the varnish as vividly as if it had been traced there inwords. Stephen gasped with horror when he saw how plainly the entirestory stood out in the sunlight of the November day. Why, the moststupid person alive could read it! Every moment he expected that hisfather or Havens would wheel on him and ask accusingly:

  "When was it you carried all those boys to Torrington?"

  He could hear his heart thumping inside him and feel the beat of theblood that scorched his cheek. He had not pictured a dilemma like this.The affair had gone off so smoothly that he had flattered himself everypossibility of discovery was past, and in this comforting knowledge hehad basked with serenity. And now, behold, here he was at the brink ofperil, and just when he had had such a glorious holiday, too!

  "How do you solve the riddle, Havens?" he heard his father asking.

  "I ain't solvin' it, sir," was the drawling answer. "Maybe Steve couldgive you a hint, though," he added slyly.

  The lad stiffened. He and Havens had never been friends. They had beenthrough too many battles for that. The chauffeur did not like boys andtook no trouble to conceal the fact, and as a result he had been theprey of many a mischievous prank. It was through his vigilance thatStephen had more than once been brought to justice and in the punishmentthat followed Havens had exulted without restraint. As a retaliation theboy tormented him whenever opportunity presented, the two carrying on ahalf-bitter, half-humorous feud which was a source of mutualgratification.

  Had not this been the case the confession that trembled on Stephen'stongue would doubtless have been uttered then and there. But to speakbefore Havens and afford him the chance to crow and rejoice,--that wasnot to be thought of. Therefore, drawing in his chin and holding hishead a trifle higher than was his wont, he replied with hauteur:

  "I've no solution at all to offer. How could I have?"

  For the fraction of a second Mr. Tolman looked sharply at his son as ifsome new thought had suddenly struck him; then the piercing scrutinyfaded from his eyes and he turned away.

  "Well, I guess we shall have to drop the matter for the present, anyway,and be getting home," said he. "It will do no good for us to stand herein the cold and argue. We shall be no nearer an answer. Come, jump in,Steve!"

  With a strange sense of reluctance the boy obeyed. He felt the door toconfession closing with finality behind him; and now that he saw allchance for dallying on its threshold cut off, he began to regret that itshould so completely close. Once again the opportunity to clear hisconscience had come about in an easy, natural manner; confession hadbeen gently and tactfully invited and he had turned his back. Neveragain, probably, would he have such a chance as this. Without anyignominious preamble he could have spoken the few words necessary andbeen a free man! But alas, he had hesitated too long. His fatherfollowed him into the car, banged the door, and they shot homeward.

  Perhaps, temporized the lad as they rode along, he would say somethingwhen they reached the house. Why wasn't it better anyway to wait untilhe and his father were quiet and alone? Who could blame him for notwanting to confess his misdemeanors before an audience? His father wouldunderstand and forgive his reticence, he was sure. Having lulled hisconscience to rest with the assurance of this future reparation he sankback against the cushions and drew the robe closer about him. There wasno use in letting the ride be spoiled by worry. He did not need to speakuntil he got back, and he needn't speak at all if he did not wish to. Ifno favorable opening occurred, why, he could still remain silent andwait a better chance. He had taken no vow, made no promise; nothingactually bound him to act unless he chose.

  It was surprising how his spirits rose with this realization. He evenventured to talk a little and make a joke or two. These overturesreceived only scant response from his father, however, for Mr. Tolman'sbrow had settled into a frown and it needed no second glance to assureStephen that the happenings of the past half-hour had put the elder manvery much out of humor. How unfortunate, mused the boy, that this moodshould have come upon his father. It would take more than an ordinarymeasure of courage to approach him now. Why, it would be braving thelions, actually tempting fate to go to him with a confession when helooked like this. Would it not be much wiser to wait?

  With a sharp swerve they turned in at the gate and rolled up the longdriveway; then the front door burst open and from it issued not onlyMrs. Tolman and Doris but with them the girl with the wonderful hair,Jane Harden, whom he had seen at Northampton. A hubbub of greetingensued and in the interchange of gay conversation all thought ofconfession was swept from Stephen's mind.

  Nor in the days that followed, with their round of skating, hockey,snow-shoeing, and holiday festivities, did the inclination to revert tothe follies of the past arise. The big red touring-car was sent awaywithout further allusion to its battered condition and with itsdeparture the last link with the misfortunes that tormented him seemeddestroyed. Once, it is true, when he overheard his father telling hismother that the bill for repainting and varnishing the car was going tobe very large, his conscience smote him. But what, he argued, could hedo? Even were he to come forward now and shoulder the blame it would notreduce the expense of which his father complained. He had no money.Therefore he decided it was better to close his ears and try and forgetthe entire affair. His father had evidently accepted the calamity withresignation and made up his mind
to bear the consequences withoutfurther demur. Why not let the matter rest there? At this late date itwould be absurd to speak, especially when it could not alter thesituation.

  In the meantime letters came from Mr. Ackerman and from Dick. The latterwas very happy at the New Haven school and was making quite a record forhimself, and it was easy to detect between the lines of the steamboatmagnate's epistle that he was much gratified by the progress of hisprotege. Thanksgiving would soon be here and if the Tolmans stillextended their invitation for the holidays the two New Yorkers would beglad to accept it.

  "I'll write Ackerman to-day," announced Mr. Tolman at breakfast. "Theinvitation has hung on Stephen and Dick, and I am glad to say they eachhave made good. How fine that that little East Side chap should haveturned out so well! I don't wonder Ackerman is pleased. Everybody doesnot get appreciation in return for kindness. I know many a parent whosechildren repay what is done for them only with sneaking, unworthyconduct and utter ingratitude. Dick may not have been born intoprosperity but he is a thoroughbred at heart and it shows in hisactions. He is every inch a gentleman."

  At the words Stephen's blood tingled.

  What would his father think of him if he knew what a mean-spiritedcoward he was? Well, it was impossible to tell him now. It would upsetthe whole Thanksgiving party.