Ben Stone at Oakdale

by Morgan Scott

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  CLOUDS GATHER AGAIN.

  Again Ben Stone found himself confronted by a problem that demandedimmediate solution. It disturbed his pillow long after Jerry, weariedto the extreme, was sleeping soundly; and when at last he slept it gavehim troubled dreams.

  He was first to waken in the morning, and, when he would have sleptstill longer, the great question swooped upon him and tore away thelast shred of slumber. The little dog welcomed him with wagging tail ashe crept softly out of bed that he might not disturb his sleepingbrother. He was nearly dressed when Jerry awoke with a startled cry,sitting up on the bed and thrusting out his thin arms, his hands spreadopen as if to hold away some fearsome thing. In a twinkling Ben was atthe bed, speaking reassuringly to Jerry.

  “Oh—oh, is it you, brother?” gasped the blind boy, as he felt himselfgathered into the embrace of Ben’s strong arms. “I thought they hadcaught me. I thought they were going to take me back.”

  “You were only dreaming, Jerry. You’re quite safe with me.” Tenderly hecaressed the little lad, who, trembling, clung to him.

  “You won’t let them take me away, will you, Ben?”

  “No, Jerry, they shall not take you away.”

  Mrs. Jones would have had them down to breakfast, but when she came tocall them they had eaten from Ben’s small store of apples andsandwiches, and they seemed quite happy and contented, so that she hadno glimpse of the threatening shadow which hovered near.

  During the greater part of that Sunday the brothers remained in thelittle room, having many things to talk about and being unwilling toadvertise for the general public the fact that Jerry was in Oakdale.Late in the afternoon, however, they walked out together, turningwestward to avoid the main part of the village and passing the academy.Before reaching Turkey Hill they left the road and set off across thefields toward a grove of pines upon the shore of Lake Woodrim. Pilot,unleashed, frisked before them. On the shore of Bear Cove they found aseat beneath one of those pines where the ground was carpeted with softbrown needles.

  They were sitting there, talking, when a small, flat-bottomed puntcontaining a single occupant rounded Pine Point in full view and waspaddled toward them. The person in the boat was Spotty Davis, who,despite the fact that it was Sunday, had been fishing. He discoveredthem almost immediately, and, recognizing Ben, called loudly:

  “Hello, Stoney, old fel; what ju doin’? Thought mebbe I could ketch apick’rel or two here in the cove.”

  Although Ben had not found Spotty’s friendship wholly unwelcome, he wasnow far from pleased by the chap’s appearance. It was too late to getaway, however, and so he waited until Davis, paddling straight in,grounded the punt upon a bit of gravelly beach and sprang out. Pilotregarded the stranger doubtfully, growling a little.

  “Say, who’s your friend, Stoney?” inquired Spotty, advancingunhesitatingly. “Gee! what an ugly lookin’ dog!” he added, with aderisive grin. “Don’t let him chaw me up, will ye?”

  “Down, Pilot! Be still!” commanded Jerry. And, although he obeyed, thedog continued to regard Davis with suspicious eyes.

  “This is my brother Jerry,” explained Ben. “He arrived in Oakdale lastnight. Jerry, this is one of my friends, Tim Davis.”

  “Your brother, hey?” said Spotty, taking the thin hand Jerry heldforth. “Say, what’s the matter with his blinkers? They look awfulfunny.”

  “He’s blind,” explained Ben in a low tone.

  “Sho! Can’t see nothin’? Jerusalem! that’s tough. Can’t he really seenothin’ at all?”

  “As far as sight is concerned, he can’t distinguish daylight fromdarkness.”

  “Whew!” breathed Spotty, sitting down and staring at Jerry. “I neversee nobody like that before. You never told me about him, Ben; you’venever said much of anything about your folks.”

  “I thought possibly you had heard some stories from Bern Hayden.”

  “Well, not much; he just sorter knocked you, and I s’posed that was’cause he was sore on you. Say, I guess you proved that you could playfootball yesterday. Bern didn’t have much on you in that game. Wasn’tit tough I got knocked out? Them fellers kind of picked me out andsoaked me. They’ve always had a grudge against me, them Clearporters.Last time I played baseball against them Harry Hutt spiked me, and thatput me out of the game, too. Eliot he was mad, ’cause he said I wasn’thurt so bad I couldn’t play; and I s’pose he was mad yesterday, too.He’s awful stiff-necked sometimes; but you certainly got on his softside through what you done for his sister, and I guess he’d back you upin anything. He brought Hayden to terms all right when Bern tried toforce you off the team by gettin’ the fellers to quit. I wish you’dheard a few things Bern had to say yesterday ’cause Roger invited youto ride home in the automobile.”

  “I’m decidedly glad I didn’t hear them,” returned Ben. “All I ask isthat Bern Hayden keeps away from me and lets me alone.”

  “He didn’t like it much when some of the fellers said we couldn’t everwon that game only for you. That was a hard pill for him to swaller.He’s always used me all right, in a way, though I know he thinks he’sbetter’n I am ’cause his father’s got the dough. I don’t think it’sright, either, for some folks to have so much money and other folks tohave so little. Now there’s lots of things I’d like if I only had thechink to buy ’em. Look a’ the rotten old fishin’ tackle I’ve got inthat bo’t; if I had money I’d buy an elegant jointed rod, a tripleaction reel, a silk line, and any amount of hooks and flies and baits.How long is your brother goin’ to stay?” Spotty concluded suddenly withthat question.

  “I—I don’t know about that,” faltered Ben. “We haven’t quite decided.Isn’t it pretty late in the season for fish to bite?” he asked, seekingto turn the drift of conversation.

  “Guess ’tis,” admitted Davis. “I ain’t had a bite. We can generallyketch pick’rel pretty late, though.”

  Ben rose and assisted Jerry to his feet. “I think we’ll go back,” hesaid.

  “What’s your hurry?” asked Davis. “It’s kinder comf’table here. Thewind don’t cut into this cove, and the sun’s warm.”

  But they left him, and, after they had passed through the grove andwere recrossing the open field beyond, Jerry said: “Somehow, I don’tlike your friend, Ben. There’s something about his voice and the way hetalks that I don’t like.”

  “Oh, I reckon he’s a harmless fellow, and he was one of the first inOakdale to be really friendly toward me; I can’t forget that.”

  When they reached the house they learned that Roger Eliot had beenthere asking for them.

  “He seemed real disapp’inted,” said the widow. “P’raps y’u’d betterwalk ’round to his house an’ see him.”

  But it was late and growing dark, and Ben decided not to call on Rogerthat night.

  Stone appeared at school the following day wearing a gravely troubledface, which led Eliot to question him, and he was on the point oftelling Roger everything and asking his advice when several other boyscame up and the opportunity was lost. All day long Ben’s mind dwelt onthe perplexing problem, and gradually he came to believe there was onlyone solution; he must give up school, leave Oakdale, and find a job ofsome sort by which he could support himself and Jerry. It meant theshattering of all his plans, but he faced the alternative bravely, andeven became a bit more relieved and cheerful when he had decided toaccept it as the only thing that could be done.

  When the boys came out for practice that afternoon neither Stone norHayden was with them. Spotty Davis was on hand, however, and, after aconsultation with the coach, Roger called Spotty aside for the purposeof telling him as kindly as possible that he would be no longer neededupon the team.

  Davis instantly showed his resentment and anger. Hayden, coming up,heard him shrilly saying:

  “That’s all right, Mr. Eliot, you can fire me. I’ve seen other fellersknocked out in football games, and they wasn’t fired. Mebbe you’ll
needme yet, and mebbe you won’t get me if you do.” With which he walkedaway and sat down alone on one of the lower rows of seats, his sly facewearing a sour expression of resentment and anger.

  Practice was begun without Stone. In the midst of it he appeared,wearing his plain, homespun clothes, and called to the captain.

  “Roger,” he said, “I can’t play football any more.”

  Eliot uttered an exclamation of surprise. “Why not, Ben? What’s thematter now?”

  “I told you my story some time ago; you’re the only one who has everheard it from me. Uncle Asher, who took my blind brother to care for,is dead, and now someone must look after Jerry. I haven’t money enoughto attend school and take care of him too, so I’m going to leaveschool. I must find work; I’ve settled on that.”

  “Oh, say, that’s too bad, Stone, old chap! Now don’t be hasty; let’sthink this matter over. Perhaps my father will do something for Jerry.”

  Ben shook his head. “I couldn’t permit my brother to accept charity,Roger; I thank you very much for the generous thought, but I’ve made upmy mind. I’ve left the suit you loaned me, and everything else, in thegym. Perhaps I’ll see you again to-morrow before we leave Oakdale. Icouldn’t practice to-night if I wanted to, for Jerry is all alone. Iwent to see him after school was over and tell him my decision; that’swhy I wasn’t here promptly. Don’t say anything to the rest of thefellows now. I’d like to bid them all good-by, but I don’t want to doso here at this time.”

  Roger found it useless to advance argument, and finally Ben departed,watched by the eyes of Hayden, who had sauntered past in time to catcha few words of the conversation.

  Five minutes later Hayden excused himself and left the field in thewake of Spotty Davis, who was finally going away in a sullen andresentful frame of mind.

  Stone went down into the village to purchase a pair of shoes for Jerry,whose footwear was almost wholly gone to the uppers. In his timiditythe blind boy had remained all day long in that room at Mrs. Jones’,again beset by fear that the pursuers he dreaded might find him; and hewas even unwilling to be seen in the village with his brother.

  Ben spent some time selecting the shoes, for he wished to get a stoutand serviceable pair at a moderate price, which was no easy matter.Having made the purchase at last, he was on the point of leaving whenthe shopkeeper said:

  “There was a man here in town a while ago asking for a boy by yourname, only the front part of his name was Jerry instead of Ben, and theman said he was blind.”

  For a moment Ben’s heart ceased to beat. “How long ago was that?” heasked huskily.

  “Oh, less than an hour, I guess. He’d just struck town, and he’s goneover to the hotel for supper.”

  Ben ran all the way back to Mrs. Jones’ house. At the door he metSpotty Davis, who had just come down the back stairs.

  Davis seemed a trifle startled. “Hello, Ben!” he exclaimed. “I justdropped round to see ye. Found your brother all alone. Saw you wasn’tpracticin’ to-night, and sorter wondered what the matter was. You know,Eliot he’s fired me. What do you think of that? I didn’t believe he’ddo it.”

  “I can’t stop to talk with you, Spotty,” said Ben; “I’m in a greathurry. Excuse me, will you?”

  “Sure,” said Davis, with great willingness, as he passed on.

  At the gate Davis paused an instant to glance back; but Ben haddisappeared, and Spotty scudded away into the gathering twilight.

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