The Eight-Oared Victors: A Story of College Water Sports

by Lester Chadwick

  CHAPTER X

  THE GAY HANDKERCHIEF

  "Who are you--what you do here?"

  The question was snapped out at Tom and Ruth as they stood near theshack. A man had come to an abrupt halt as he emerged from the bushesand faced them; something of fear, Tom thought, mingled with angershowing on his face. It was this man whom they had heard approaching, aman clad in ordinary garments, yet with an indefinable foreign air abouthim--an air that was accentuated by his words and inflection. He wasdark of skin, swarthy, and when he smiled, which he did a moment afterhis rather harsh words of greeting, his very white teeth showed beneatha small black moustache. A Spaniard Tom put him down for, or a Mexican.The latter guess proved correct, as the lad learned afterward.

  "You come here to--to--pardon, senor, I am forgetting my manners," wenton the fellow with a bow, and a sharp glance at Ruth. "You are hereperhaps to look at cottages--you and your charming bride."

  Ruth drew in her breath sharply, and a rosy glow suffused her face. Shedid not look at Tom, who chuckled audibly.

  "I--I'll never speak to you if you do that again," said the girl, in alow voice.

  "Do what?" asked Tom, innocently enough.

  "Laugh at--at what he said," and she still blushed, and refused to lookup.

  "Pardon, senor," went on the man. "No offense, but----"

  "That's all right," said Tom easily, master of himself now, butwondering much who the man might be. "We were just looking around. Somefriends of ours have a cottage here--the Tylers----"

  "Oh, yes. Then you are very welcome. In fact you would be welcomeanyhow, as this island is more or less of the public--what you say, Ihave not the very good English?" and he looked questioningly at them.

  "Oh, you mean that it is open to the public."

  "That is so, yes, senor, and senorita. You are interested in my poorabode here--yes?"

  "Oh, we were just looking around," explained Tom. "We did peep in. Noharm, I hope."

  "None at all, senor."

  "I'm from Randall," the pitcher went on. "Miss Clinton is from Fairview."

  "Oh, you are fellow students then?"

  "Not exactly--say, rather--rivals," and Tom looked at Ruth and laughed.The blush had somewhat subsided.

  "Ah, I comprehend. I am Rafello Mendez, at your service, senor."

  "My name is Parsons," went on Tom. "Sorry I haven't a card," and hethought of the one he had picked up, which he had quickly thrust intohis pocket at the sound of approaching footsteps.

  "I am what you call the take-care man around here," went on Mendez. "Iam the take-care man of the cottages--not all--some."

  "The 'take-care' man," murmured Tom. "It sounds like the bugaboo-man."

  "Oh, he means the care-taker," exclaimed Ruth. "I understand. You lookafter the property while the cottagers are away; isn't that it?" and shesmiled at the man, who bowed low and answered:

  "The senorita has said it. I am the take-care man."

  "But I thought old Jake Blasdell had that job," said Tom. "I know heused to be here. But I never knew he had this shack, though I haven'tbeen much on this part of the island."

  "Senor Blasdell did was the take-care man," explained Mendez. "But hewas took sick, and had to leave, and a friend got me the place. Me, Iused to be of the sheep take-care in my country--Mexico, but I long forthis country and I come. I do what you call a business on the edge."

  "On the edge?" murmured Tom.

  "Yes, senor, on the edge. Or maybe you say on the point. You see heis like this: I am the take-care man for the cottages in place ofSenor Blasdell in Winter. In Summer I am the cut-the-grass-man or thegarden-man, what you like. Then, besides, in addition, on the edge Isell things in my store which it is unfortunately not open now, or Ishould show the senorita some pretty things. The store I do on theedge--or maybe on the point, I know not how you say," and he shruggedhis shoulders expressively.

  "Oh, he means on the side!" cried Ruth. "Don't you understand, Tom?He is a caretaker, and at odd times he sells things to the Summercottagers."

  "The senorita has said it," went on Mendez. "It is on the side, not onthe edge--pardon!"

  "What do you sell?" asked Tom, curiously.

  "Everything. Things from the country. Of a specialty I have thebeautiful Mexican push-work, senorita."

  "Push-work, that's another new one," said Tom.

  "I guess he means Mexican drawn-work," explained Ruth with a smile."Some of it is very beautiful. He ought to do a good business here inthe Summer."

  "I should, if I had all customers like the senorita," said the man witha bow to Ruth, again showing his white teeth in an expansive smile. "Iam covered with confusion that I can show her none now. But it is allput away. Perhaps, though, if you wait----"

  "No, we must be moving on!" interrupted Tom. "It is getting late. And soyou live here all Winter?"

  "Yes, senor. This little hut was part of the place where Senor Blasdellused to stay. It was donated to me. I moved it here when I succeededSenor Blasdell, and added to it. It is very comfortable. I have beenover to the main land for some supplies, and when I come back I see you.At first I am suspicious, for which I ask your pardon. You are alwayswelcome, the senor and senorita," and again he bowed.

  "Thanks, Mr. Mendez," said Tom, rather carelessly, for somehow he didnot like the fellow. "We may see you this Summer. Some of us fellows maycamp here."

  "Then I shall be pleased to show you some fine Mexican leather work.Perhaps a lariat, spurs, bridles, and some fine silver work for thepretty senoritas, is it not?" and the fellow smiled genially.

  "Good-bye!" called Tom. "Come along, Ruth. I'll have to hit up the oarsgoing home or I'll have you so late that you'll get on the bad books ofthe Ogress."

  "Oh, I'm there already," she replied, as she nodded to the Mexican, whobowed low in farewell. "All our crowd is, but we don't mind. Now, Tom,did you really mean what you said about going to camp on Crest Islandthis Summer?"

  "I do, if I can get the other fellows to do it. I know they will, too,for we'll be near our rowing shells, and we can have the best kind ofpractice."

  "Oh, is _that_ the only reason you want to come here?" and she lookedarchly at him.

  "Why, isn't that----" he began and then a light dawned on him.

  "I guess we wouldn't come if you girls weren't to be here," he added,quickly. "When I tell the fellows that, I know it will cinch matters.Oh, we'll come all right."

  They reached their boat, embarked, and Tom was soon sculling away fromthe island.

  "Queer chap--that Mendez," remarked the youth after a bit.

  "Isn't he?" agreed Ruth.

  "I didn't know those Mexicans were so thrifty," the rower went on."Being a 'care-take' man and doing Mexican 'push-work' on the 'edge'.Pretty good; eh?"

  "Yes," laughed Ruth. "I can see where we girls will spend a great dealof our time this Summer."

  "So can I," declared her companion, boldly. "With us fellows."

  "Oh, you're not at all conceited; are you?"

  "I didn't know it," went on Tom, tantalizingly. "But say, do you know Ididn't much like that fellow, for all his fine airs."

  "Why not, pray? I thought him quite polite."

  "He was--altogether too polite," murmured the lad, with a little moreforce than seemed necessary. "I don't like foreigners, anyhow."

  "Well, I could forgive anyone, even a foreigner, if I could get back mybrooch," sighed Ruth. "I don't know what I'm going to do about it."

  "It is too bad," agreed Tom. "Now, Ruth, we won't say anything aboutwhat happened to-day, and if you promise not to tell, I'll whisper asecret."

  "Oh, Tom, of course I won't tell--you know that!" and she lookedreproachfully at him.

  "Of course--I was only joking. Well, we four fellows are trying to do alittle detective work, and recover the stolen jewelry."

  "You are?"

  "Yes, and if we do we may get back your brooch."

  "Oh, I hope you do!" and she clapped her hands in spontaneous delight."
Do you think you will, Tom?"

  "Hard to tell, Ruth. There aren't many clues to work on. At least thereweren't until to-day----"

  "Oh, did you find some to-day, Tom? Tell me, I'm so fascinated withdetective work! Did you really see some clue that escaped me?"

  "Ahem! Detectives never talk about their cases, or tell about theirclues!" he exclaimed, with exaggerated gravity.

  "Tom Parsons!"

  "Well, really, I don't know whether I did find a clue or not, Ruth. I'mgoing to think about it over night. If you can help me I won't hesitateto call on you."

  "Will you, really, Tom? That's good of you. And now I'm afraid you'llhave to row a little faster. It _is_ getting quite late."

  "All right," agreed the lad, as he bent to the oars. As he rowed histhoughts went to the card in his pocket and to the strands of silk fromthe gay handkerchief.

  Fortunately Ruth was not so late that Miss Philock found fault. Tomproved himself a good rower, though after he had said good-bye he tookthe course easy on the way to Randall.

  "Some sculling," he told himself, as he tied up the boat and, in thedusk of the late Spring evening, walked toward his room. "This ought tostand me in good stead for the eight. My muscles are hardening," and hefelt of his biceps. He was in extraordinarily good training from hisbaseball work.

  As he was about to enter the building where he and his chums had theirrooms, he saw Boswell approaching. Tom's mind flashed to the card he hadpicked up at the shack.

  "I wonder what he could have been doing there?" the tall pitcher mused."If Mendez didn't have his store open and his stock ready for sale, howcould Bossy have bought any? And, if he didn't go there to buy anything,why did he go at all? I give it up."

  There was no time for further speculation just then, as the rich lad,with a nod, addressed Tom.

  "Where were you?" he asked with an air of familiarity that Tom ratherresented in a Freshman. "We had a fine row in the eight. I'm almost sureof bow, and Lighton may shift me to stroke, or number seven."

  "Yes?" questioned Tom indifferently, yet resolving to make a bravestruggle not to let this usurper put him out of his place in the boat.

  "Sure thing. I'm coming on fine, and I've got a dandy scheme for keepingin trim this Summer."

  "Yes?"

  "Yes. Our folks are going to take a cottage on Crest Island, and----"

  "You are?" and Tom fairly exploded the words.

  "Surest thing you know, though it's a beastly slow and unfashionableplace. We usually go to the shore. We have one cottage there, andanother in the White Mountains, but I persuaded dad to take one at Crestfor the Summer, just so I could be near the water here and get familiarwith the course we'll row next Fall. Nothing like knowing the course,old man, really."

  "No, I suppose not," and Tom's mind was busy with many things. WithBoswell on the island, matters might not be so pleasant as he hadanticipated.

  "That's right. I'm going to get a professional coach, too."

  "You are?" Tom's voice was still indifferent, but Boswell did not noticeit.

  "Sure thing. When I go in for a thing I go in hard, and I'm going intothis rowing game for keeps."

  "Well, I hope we all do," and Tom tried to be pleasant as he turned away.

  "See you later," murmured the Freshman, in a patronizing tone, and, ashe turned aside he drew from his pocket a gaudy handkerchief. At thesight of it Tom stared, for it was the same pattern as the strip ofsilk found near the looted jewelry box. Tom stared at it intently as therich lad flourished it.

  "By Jove!" suddenly exclaimed Boswell, "I've got that torn handkerchiefagain," and he held it up, showing where a strip had evidently beenripped from it. "I've got two," he explained, "and this one got tornthe other day. I thought I laid it aside, but, in my hurry, I must havegrabbed it up."

  "How--how'd you tear it?" asked Tom, when he could trust his voice.

  "Oh, it caught on a nail down at the boathouse, and a piece was rippedoff."

  "Why--why couldn't you have it sewed on?" asked Tom.

  "What? Carry a mended handkerchief? I guess not. Anyhow the piece fellin the water and floated away. Hope you'll be in the eight next time wepractice, though I may get your place."

  "Maybe," answered Tom, and he did not take the trouble to designatewhich clause the word modified.