CHAPTER X
FRED'S HOME-COMING
"We win! We win!"
The shouts of the fellows who wielded the oars in the leading boat came floating back to those who were still scrambling around in the cranky outlaw craft.
Buck put his hands to his mouth, in order to make his voice carry the better, and yelled disdainfully after them:
"Yes, you win, but only through a foul! Run into us, and broke one of our outriggers to flinders! But just wait till we get a new one made, we'll beat you to a frazzle! Wait!"
"It wasn't so, was it, Brad?" demanded Corney Shays indignantly; "we never touched his boat, did we?"
"Well, I like his nerve!" cried Sid Wells, for all of them were taking things easy, now that the race was over, and the victory won. "Why, hang it, I don't believe we were within thirty feet of their old boat any time."
"And you're right, Sid," added Brad. "I ought to know, because I was in a position to see everything. When that outrigger smashed they were a quarter of a length ahead. Anybody with half an eye can see that it was the second oar that got in trouble. And boys, believe me, that outrigger was away up opposite our stem, far out of reach of our oars, end on end. It's too silly for anything!"
"But I think, from all I know of the fellow, that it's just like Buck to say a thing like that?" suggested Fred.
"You're right there, Fred," declared Dick Hendricks; "he never yet lost a game but what, quick as a flash, he made it a point to claim that it was a foul, and the beat an unfair one. Isn't that so, fellows, all you who've known Buck since he was a kid, and always a fighting bully?"
"You never said truer words, Dick," declared Sid. "And I ought to know, because I've had a dozen fights with Buck in as many years. Fact is, they say we went at each other before we were able to walk, and that he pulled the only tuft of yellow hair out that I owned about then. He used to joke me, and boast that he had that yellow lock at home, tied with a string, just like an Indian would an enemy's scalplock. Oh! we've been at it, hammer and tongs, ever since. And just as you say, Dick, he never yet lost a fight or a race or a game but what he set up a howl that the other fellow cheated, or took an unfair advantage of him."
"But by this time the people of Riverport ought to be on to Mr. Buck, and know how little truth there is in his whine," remarked Fred.
"Well, a lot of them do," answered Brad, scornfully, for he was indignant over the small trick of the beaten coxswain; "but you know how it is, Fred. You'll always find a certain percentage of people in every place only too willing to think the worst of you, given half a chance."
"Oh! well, we don't have to bother our heads about it, I suppose," remarked Sid. "It's the same old story, nine-tenths believing in our side, and the others backing up Buck. But, fellows, we know what we know. That race was won through a streak of luck for our side, perhaps, and I'm sorry to even admit that; but there wasn't the first hint of foul play on our part."
"And given half a chance," said Corney Shays, "Buck would have easily punched a hole in our boat, if he really believed he was going to be licked. I've known him to do things twice as bad as that, and get away with it too, in the bargain. Accuse him of it, and he'd laugh in your face, and ask how you could prove anything."
"Let's drop Buck and his ways for a while, and think of our chances with those husky Mechanicsburg chaps," observed Brad, as they came in sight of the outlying houses connected with the home town, scattered along the river front.
"Oh! I know what you mean, Brad, all right," spoke up Colon, sensitive to anything like criticism; "every one knows that I weakened toward the end, and that's what threw us out of gear. Couldn't help it, if you killed me. That little trouble I had with the river yesterday must have still bothered me. Never had such a queer feeling grip me before, and hope never to again."
"Oh! I wouldn't bother myself about that, Colon," Brad hastened to say, consolingly; "given a few days to rest, and you'll be as tough as ever. That strain was heart-breaking, and nobody could blame you for wilting under it, after what you passed through yesterday. If I'd known we were going to meet that bunch, all primed to give us a race, perhaps I'd have thought it good policy to put Joe in the crew for the run home. But it all turned out right after all."
"And we won, which was the best part of it!" crowed Corney.
"I differ with you there, Corney," declared Brad. "To me the best part of it was the game quality the whole crew showed. That was an eye-opener to me. I know now what you can stand; and next time won't be so much afraid to push you to the limit, if I feel that every fellow is fit."
"Another thing," remarked Fred, "that is pleasant to know, is the fact that luck broke in our favor. It's been my experience always, in nearly every game, when the teams are about even, that when luck takes to turning one way, that side always wins out. Everything comes their way. It's begun to like us, boys."
"And we sure have no kick coming," remarked Corney, with emphasis.
There were quite a few people waiting to see what was going to happen. They had known of Buck and his outlaw crew going up the river in their boat; and since the regular crew was expected down that afternoon, by putting things together, they rather guessed a race might result.
Some of these people had field glasses, and from the wild way they cheered Brad and his interested spectators of at least the conclusion of the race; for the river ran about straight for some distance up toward Mechanicsburg.
"Hello!" Brad called out to a party of five or crew, it might be suspected that they had been six schoolboys who seemed to be trying to crack their voices yelling, as they waved their hats, and one of them a pair of glasses; "did you see us trim Buck's bunch, Lossing?"
"You just bet we did, and you showed 'em up handsomely too," came the reply; "but what happened in their boat when they were in a dead heat with you?"
"Why, they were a quarter of a length ahead at the time," answered Brad, frankly. "We'd been sea-sawing it all the way down, first one leading, then the other. All at once one of their outriggers snapped off short, and that threw them into all sorts of confusion."
"Oh! that was it, eh? I had the glasses, but couldn't make out just what happened. But youdidbeat them anyhow, Brad?" called the other, jubilantly.
"You'll hear a howl from Buck, all right, Lossing," Brad went on, as they came in to the shore gently enough, this being their landing place.
"Well, we reckoned on that," laughed the other. "It wouldn't be Buck Lemington if he didn't make a kick. What was he yelling out after you, Brad?"
"Had the nerve to say we fouled his boat, and broke that outrigger, Lossing."
"Hasn't he the colossal nerve though?" the boy ashore shouted. "Why, I know for a dead certainty that the boats were at least three lengths apart at the time. That sure does make me snicker, Brad."
And before evening it might be set down as certain that two versions of the race would be circulating all through Riverport, one believed by nearly all the better element, and the other taken as truth by a few select persons who, from various reasons, thought it policy to back up anything done by Buck Lemington; or his father, the rich Squire, who had interest in several factories, and was moreover quite a politician in the community.
Fred waited around the boathouse until the Colon wagon arrived, bringing the rest of the boat club, and all their ordinary clothes as well.
Like the others of the crew, Fred dressed then, and along about dusk started for home, knowing that it was well on toward supper time, and his father must be in from his work.
Once more Fred was thinking of his own troubles, and heaving more than one sigh, as he found himself wishing again and again that something might happen to bring a new joy into the lives of his mother and father. They seemed to be losing hope; and the cares that gathered were beginning to make them look old before their time.
Oh! if only they could hearsomethingfrom Hiram Masterson, the miner from Alaska, who had been so mysteriously spirited away just when he had determined to testify against his own rascally uncle, Sparks Lemington, and put the Fentons in possession of such information as would enable them to win the suit for the mine.
"But I suppose that would be too great happiness," he mused, as he drew near his home, in the window of which he could see the light placed there by his mother.
He opened the door, and then stood there transfixed, because of what he saw; for his mother was in the arms of his father, her head pillowed on his shoulder, and she seemed to be weeping.
But when she raised her head at Fred's entrance the astonished and delighted boy saw immediately that it must be great joy that brought those tears, and caused this deep emotion, for upon that dear face he could read a new-born happiness.
And again he remembered what he had said to his mates on the crew about luck having chosen to hunt them out as favorites; for it even seemed to wait him at home.
CHAPTER XI
NEWS FROM OVER SEA
"Oh Fred, it's come!" exclaimed his younger sister, Kate.
"What, news from Hiram?" demanded the boy, his heart beating rapidly with the sudden excitement.
"That's it; and he says——" began the impulsive girl, when her mother's voice restrained her:
"Wait, and let Fred read the letter for himself, Kate; he will understand it much better, I am sure; for in your present condition I doubt whether you are capable of making anything clear."
Releasing herself from the arms of her smiling husband, she held out a crumpled sheet of paper to the eager Fred. He saw that there were only a few lines of writing on it, and that even this was done unevenly, as though the one who used the pen wrote under unfavorable conditions, perhaps on the edge of his bunk aboard a sailing vessel.
This was just what Fred read:
"On the way home by easy stages, and under an assumed name, so as not to arouse the suspicion of those who have kept me away. Determined to right a great wrong that has been done you. Willing to testify in your behalf. Be sure and keep secret, especially from the one you have to fear."You Know Who."
"On the way home by easy stages, and under an assumed name, so as not to arouse the suspicion of those who have kept me away. Determined to right a great wrong that has been done you. Willing to testify in your behalf. Be sure and keep secret, especially from the one you have to fear.
"You Know Who."
"Where is the envelope this came in, mother?" Fred asked the first thing; for he found nothing about the letter itself to indicate from what part of the world it might have come.
"I was very careful to keep it, Fred," Mrs. Fenton replied; "for I knew you would want to see it."
No sooner had Fred glanced hastily at the postmark than he whistled to indicate his astonishment.
"Why, it was mailed at Hong Kong, and a whole month ago," he cried.
"Yes, away at the other side of the world," his father remarked. "And from the tone of the letter I feel satisfied that our troubles will soon be of the past; for Hiram Masterson is tired of being kept away from his native land, just because he wants to tell the truth; and he is coming soon to testify for us."
"This is great news, mother, father!" declared Fred, tears standing in his eyes as he contemplated the joyous faces of those he loved so well, for the careworn expression had fled from the countenances of his parents; and he thought both of them looked ten years younger, such is the mission of happiness.
"I'll never hear the name of Hong Kong again in school, but what I'll just love it," declared Kate, laughing and crying by turns; "because it sounds so good right now."
"A month ago he wrote this," continued Fred, reflectively. "Why right at this time Hiram must be on the way to America on his vessel, and may show up here any old time. He says he is sailing under another name, so they won't know him. After all, Hiram has turned out to be a good friend of ours, father, even if he does belong to that Lemington family that has given us so much trouble."
"Oh there may be good branches on even the poorest tree," remarked gentle Mrs. Fenton. "So it is with families. There's little Billy, now, Buck's brother; didn't you say he was as nice a youngster as you ever met, Fred?"
"That's so, mother; and I'll try and not forget again. But I suppose we ought to do what Hiram says, and keep quiet about this latest news. Why, I believe that if people only knew we had a letter postmarked Hong Kong, they'd talk about it; and if that suspicious Squire Lemington heard, he'd put things together, so as to make out a true story."
"How that imagination of yours does take wings, son," said Mr. Fenton, with a laugh. "But you're right about one thing; we must tell no one. Remember, Kate, not a single word to your closest chum."
"Oh! don't be afraid I'll tell, father!" declared the girl.
"And I promise that not even Sid shall know," Fred put in; "though I'd trust any secret with him, for he's as close-mouthed as an oyster, Sid is."
"But even Sid might talk in his sleep, or let a hint fall," Kate insisted; "and you know he's got a sister, Mame, who loves to gossip a little—I kind of think all girls do," she added, with a little giggle, and shrug of her shoulders.
"Won't Hiram have a story to tell when he gets back again?" observed Fred, who, boy-like, thought of the adventures the kidnapped miner must have passed through during his long enforced absence.
"I imagine," Mr. Fenton observed, "that the harsh treatment he has endured at the hands of those who are in the pay of the company his uncle controls must have had just the opposite effect upon Hiram to what they intended. He feels very bitter toward them, and is more determined than ever to beat them at their game. I was always told that when evil men fall out honest ones get their due, and I believe it now."
"I don't believe Hiram can be so very wicked," interposed Mrs. Fenton, gently. "When he came down here from Alaska to help his uncle by giving false testimony, he must have been laboring under some wrong notion of how things stood. Since then he has seen a great light, and his better nature has come to the front."
"Then it was what Fred did for him when he first came, that opened his eyes," declared Kate. "You remember, mother, if it hadn't been for our Fred, Mr. Masterson would have found himself in serious trouble."
"Yes, that must have been the entering wedge," Mr. Fenton remarked, nodding his approval of the girl's idea. "It set Hiram to thinking; and once a wavering man does that, the good in him gets a chance. But come, this doesn't look like supper. I didn't think I was one bit hungry; but now I'm fairly ravenous."
"And the splendid news has taken my desire to eat away," Mrs. Fenton said; but she immediately started to get the meal on the table, her face radiant with the new happiness that had come.
At the table Fred was seized with a sudden thought, pursuing which he turned to his sister to ask a few questions.
"Do you remember who gave the letter to you at the office, Kate; was it that red-headed clerk, Sam Smalling?"
"Why, to be sure; he always hands out the mail at the General Delivery window," she replied, without hesitation.
"He's an inquisitive sort of a fellow, I've found," Fred went on; "and I've even seen him reading post cards that pass through. Stop and think, Kate, did he mention the fact to you that you were getting aforeignletter this time?"
"Why, yes, that is just what he did, Fred," Kate answered quickly; "how could you guess such a thing now?"
"Oh! I just remembered hearing him make remarks to several persons when they came for mail, which told me Mr. Sam Smalling kept tabs on about all that went on in Riverport. It must keep his brain working all the time, trying to remember when Susie Green expects a letter from her aunt away up in Basking Ridge; and if Eph Smith has written home to his ma regularly once a month. But joking aside, sis, what did he say to you about it?"
"Why, as near as I can remember, Fred, he only remarked that he noticed our far-away cousin in Hong Kong had finally taken a notion to write to us. I thought he was trying to be smart, you know; and to carry the joke along I laughed, and said it was too mean for anything the way Cousin Jim had treated us for a long time; and that it was about time he wrote."
"Splendid!" exclaimed Fred, laughing. "And what did he say to that, Kate?"
"I didn't wait to hear," she replied; "but when I went out of the door I looked back, and saw Mr. Smalling patting himself, as if he thought he had the greatest mind ever, to be able to just guess everything."
"Well, I reckon you've spiked his guns, then," Fred went on. "You see, he has a younger brother who trains with that crowd of Buck's; and I didn't know but that Sam might make some mention of the mysterious letter we got to-day from the other side of the world. And then, in some way, it might get around to the ears of Buck, who would carry it to his father; because, I guess every little thing about the Fentons is ofsomeinterest up there at the big house."
"Fred, if you make up your mind to be a lawyer, I think you have a future ahead of you," declared his father, proudly; "because your reasoning powers are first-class. But the chances of the post office clerk mentioning the fact now are so remote, that we need not give it a thought."
The evening that followed was one of the happiest the Fentons had known for a long time. There was much to talk about, and a spirit of coming joy seemed to pervade the very atmosphere of that humble cottage home, that certainly never brooded over the much more pretentious establishment of Sparks Lemington.
And when, rather later than usual, Fred went up to his small room close under the rafters, where rainy nights he could listen to the patter of the drops on the roof just over his head, he believed that he must be the happiest boy in all Riverport.
And in his new found joy his thoughts turned to the chum who was worrying so much over his troubles; so that Fred resolved on the morrow to try and do something to help poor Bristles Carpenter.
CHAPTER XII
BRISTLES HAS AN IDEA
The following morning, as Fred was tinkering around, fixing up some of his traps, he heard the whistle of one of his chums outside. Poking his head out of the window, and wondering why, if it should be Sid, he did not come upstairs without any knocking at the door, he saw to his surprise that it was Bristles.
"Hello! Fred! Can I climb up, or will you come down here?" the latter called out.
"Walk right into my parlor, said the spider to the fly," replied Fred, being in rare good humor himself, and wishing he could do something to help Bristles.
The other boy soon made his appearance in Fred's little den of a room; which, however, was mighty comfortable, and as neat as wax. Mrs. Fenton was a good housekeeper, and she had always trained her children to never leave things "at sixes and sevens," as she termed it.
Fred saw that Bristles was considerably excited over something or other. And of course the chances were that it must concern his own personal affairs. Having made a confidant of Fred, and gained more or less benefit because of his sympathy and advice, Bristles was rushing over the first thing with further news.
"You look worked up, Bristles," Fred remarked, as the other threw his cap on the table, and dropped down in the rocker.
"Well, I am, for a fact," the visitor replied, nodding his head to emphasize his remark.
"Anything happened to make you feel better?" suggested Fred; "has there been another mysterious robbery over at your aunt's house, so that she can understand you didn't do it, because you were far away this time?"
Bristles heaved a big sigh.
"Huh! no such good luck as that, Fred," he remarked; "I only wish it was that way. P'raps it will be, just as you say. But an idea hit me in the night, when I was a-lyin' there, trying to get to sleep again. I don't like to be awake when it's only three o'clock, you know. Makes me feel bad in the morning. And I was tired as all get-out last night, after what we did yesterday up at camp and on the way down, when we beat Buck's bunch so neat in that race."
"Hold on, stick to the text," remarked Fred; "you're the greatest fellow to ramble all over the lot when you start to telling anything. Now you said you had run across an idea; let's hear it, then; for I reckon it must have something to do with your trouble, Bristles?"
The other actually grinned, showing that he was feeling more hopeful on this bright, sunshiny, summer morning, at any rate.
"That's right, Fred, it had a whole lot to do with it!" he burst out. "Say, I've discovered who's been cribbing all those pretty little stones up at my aunt's!"
"You don't mean it?" cried Fred, really taken aback.
"Yes, I do, now," went on the excited Bristles; "and you couldn't guess it in a year of Sundays. It just seemed to pop into my head while I was lying there on my back, grunting because I couldn't get to sleep, or take my mind off Aunt Alicia and her queer old house."
"Now, don't stop like that, and chuckle, Bristles; but go on telling, if you want me to sit here and listen." Fred prodded his chum with his finger as he said this, to bring him to his senses.
"It's playing a mean game on the old lady, too, to take those opals so slick, and give her all that bad feeling; but if shewillkeep such tricky pets, why she's got to pay for it, that's all, Fred."
"Pets!" burst out the other.
"Sure thing," laughed Bristles; "that wise old crow's the guilty thief!"
"The black raven that she brought over from England, you mean?" Fred went on, rather staggered himself by what Bristles had said, and yet discovering an element of possible truth in it.
"Yes, the old chap that cocks his head on one side when you come in, and examines you over from head to foot, just like he meant to say, 'If you're not good looking you're not wanted here!' Oh! he's a gay old villain, I just tell you! And, Fred, mark my words, he's the scamp who's been taking Aunty's opals."
"Why, I do remember reading, more than a few times, that crows and ravens have been known to fly away with bright spoons, and all sorts of things that seem to catch their fancy; but I never heard of a bird stealing from its mistress, and opals at that."
"Well, that's what this one is doing, you mark me," Bristles said, positively. "Why, just see what a great chance the old boy has. He finds the door open into the parlor once in a while, and just hops in, takes up one of the shiny stones, and carries it away to some place where he keeps his treasures. I just bet you now he's been carryin' on that way a long time, and Aunty never noticed that things were disappearing till I began to come over to see her."
"You think so, do you, Bristles?" remarked Fred, still pondering over the matter, and wondering in his mind whether it could really be an explanation for the peculiar little mystery that had given his chum so much heart-pain.
"Why, it's a dead open-and-shut cinch that the answer to the conundrum lies in that silly old black bunch of feathers," declared the other, conviction in his voice. "I looked up all about ravens in our big 'cyclopædia as soon as I got downstairs this morning; and the more I read, the stronger my mind got that Black Joemustbe the guilty one."
"Will you go and tell your aunt, and ask her to make a search for his hiding-place?" Fred inquired.
"Well—er—no; not just that," answered the other, slowly, and watching Fred out of the tail of his eye; "fact is, I'm afraid she'd laugh at me, and say it was only another excuse for me to get inside her house. Now, ifyoucould drop in to see Aunt Alicia on some excuse or other, Fred, perhaps you might get a chance to look around, and find out where Black Joe keeps his little crop of treasures hid."
Fred burst out into a laugh.
"Oh! I see, you want me to be the one to take chances; is that it, Bristles?" he demanded.
"Well, I didn't think you'd mind doing a little more for a poor fellow, as you've been such a help already to me, Fred; and then, she won't accuse you of wanting to do anything wrong like she might me. Fact is," he went on eagerly, so as to better carry his point, "she once said she kind of liked your looks, after you'd been in there with me. I sure believe you made a hit with Aunt Alicia; because, as a rule, she doesn't care much for boys, you know."
"Hold on, Bristles," said Fred, laughingly; "that won't wash a bit. You're giving me some taffy now, just to make me agree to visit your aunt. But, honest, I don't care to take the chances. My reputation is pretty good up to now; but it might go to flinders if anyone said I was taking things that did not belong to me."
"But, good gracious! Fred, she wouldn't have any reason to accuse you!" Bristles burst out, very much disappointed because his pet scheme promised to meet with a hitch so early in its development.
"You forget one thing?" said Fred, soberly.
"Perhaps I have, because, you see, I'm all excited; and it isn't apt to leave a fellow in decent trim for thinking. But what was it I forgot, Fred; tell me that?"
"Why, perhaps one or two of the balance of those opals might take a notion to disappear about the same time I dropped in to see your aunt, without any invitation to do it. And in that case she'd just naturally think you'd put me up to keeping the queer business going. I'd hate to have her think that of me, and much worse send word to my father and mother that I was a thief!"
"I should say so," declared Bristles, gloomily. "Bad enough to have her say that I was; and that's all in the family, you see. I never once thought of that, believe me, Fred. Wouldn't have asked you to take such chances, if I had. 'Course it wouldn't be fair, and I'm a selfish feller for hinting at it."
"I don't think so, Bristles," Fred went on, consolingly. "It looked good to you, because you never thought of the chances of another raid being made on your aunt's opals. But perhaps you might have your mother go over and see Miss Alicia. She could mention what you thought, and even if the old lady did pretend to scoff at the idea, it would put a flea in her ear, so perhaps she'd keep an eye on Black Joe."
"I'll think about it, Fred. I don't fancy dragging my mother into the game if it can be helped. I'd like to lift the lid myself, and then have the laugh on Aunt Alicia. Some day, perhaps, she'll be sorry she thought so mean of me, and wouldn't listen to my defense. You wait and see. I'm going to get at the bottom of this thing if it takes me all summer."
"Well, General Grant got there in the end, and let's hope you'll be as lucky, old fellow," said Fred, cheerfully. "Anyhow, that was a bright thought about Black Joe; and it would be a jolly story to tell if it did turn out that way."
"Why, right now you more'n half believe it yourself, Fred!" cried Bristles.
"It's worth thinking about," was the noncommittal answer Fred made.
"Oh! by the way," his visitor suddenly exclaimed, "while I was on my way over here I met Corney, who said he'd heard the Mechanicsburg fellows got their boat last night."
"Good for that," remarked Fred, with satisfaction. "Now both crews can get busy, and whip themselves in shape for that big race later on. I expect we'll do much better next time. Colon wasn't himself at all, after being nearly drowned only the day before. But he'll come around all right; and when he's in trim there isn't a huskier fellow in the Riverport school."
"We practice again this afternoon, don't we?" asked Bristles.
"That was the programme last night, Brad told us," replied Fred.
"Well, I only hope I get relief from this cloud that's hangin' over my head all the time," Bristles went on, sighing again. "It's just like the toothache, Fred; you suffer, and know it means goin' to the dentist's chair; but how you hate to go and get her yanked out! But once you make up your mind, and the job's done, how glad you feel you went; eh? Well, some bright day, I'm hoping, I'll feel just as happy as if I'd had a tooth drawn," and Fred was compelled to smile at the homely way his chum illustrated the condition of his feelings, though he understood just how Bristles felt.
CHAPTER XIII
A CALL FOR HELP
"I hope you take a notion to get your mother to go around there some time to-day," Fred went on to say, as his visitor got up to leave.
"Perhaps I might," Bristles admitted; though he shook his head as if the idea did not wholly appeal to him.
"She could smooth things over a whole lot, you see," Fred continued; "and then, if by some luck, another of the little gems has disappeared since your aunt sent that note over, your mother would be able to show Aunty how unjust she had been when she hinted that you'd taken the others."
"Yes, it looks that way, Fred; and I'm obliged to you for giving me the hint," said Bristles. "But I want to think this over again. I'm going back home and stay there the whole morning, doing some high and lofty work with my head. What's the use of having brains if you can't make 'em work for you. So-long, Fred. You're sure the handy boy when it comes to making a feller see things in a new light. But I still believe it's old Black Joe, the little villain!"
After he had gone, the matter was often in Fred's mind, and he really began to grow quite excited while thinking about it.
"It may be stretching things a whole lot to believe a bird could be so smart as to take those stones," he said to himself, seriously; "but anyhow, the opportunity was there before Black Joe, if he wanted to try it. I remember that when the old lady showed me those opals, and told me how they were taken from a mine in Mexico where she had sunk a heap of money, she put them back on the cabinet shelf, and they were just lying in a little bowl with some other curiosities she had. Yes, Black Joe could fly up there, and pick out what he wanted, sure enough."
Somehow the thought was still strong in Fred's mind when, later in the morning, he started out to go over to see what Sid Wells might be doing. And it even took him out of his way, so that instead of making his usual short cut across lots to his chum's house, he passed along the street where Miss Muster (the boys called her Miss Mustard on account of her peppery temper) lived.
He even turned his head while passing, and looked in toward the rather expensive building (for a small place like Riverport) where the old maid lived alone with her colored "mammy" and her several pets.
He could see the big bulldog that was chained to his kennel, placed under the windows of the room the maiden lady slept in. Yes, Beauty was asleep on the top of his box then, curled up as if not "caring whether school kept or not."
"Boy! boy, come over here! I want you!"
Fred at first thought that it was the talking bird calling to him in this way, for he had heard Black Joe rattle along just like an educated poll parrot. Then he recognized the shrill tones of Miss Muster; and at the same moment caught sight of the maiden lady.
She was standing on her broad porch, and beckoning to him.
Being close to the gate, he pressed the latch, and passed through into the yard, where there were a great many flowers. Possibly Fred felt a queer little thrill as he walked toward the porch, where Miss Muster awaited him. He remembered the proposal Bristles had made, and which he had seen fit to turn down.
The old lady was peering at him through her glasses.
"Oh! you are the boy who was in here with my—er—nephew that time?" she remarked; and at first Fred thought she was about to say she had no use for anyone who would keep company with Bristles, but she did not, much to his relief.
"Yes, ma'am, I remember being in here with Bris—er—Andy Carpenter, once," Fred remarked. "And you were kind enough to show me a lot of mighty interesting things, too, Miss Muster. What can I do for you this morning, ma'am?"
The sharp face softened a little, and the faintest shadow of a smile crept over the old maid's features.
"Let me see, what's your name?" she asked.
"Fred Fenton, ma'am. We have not been in Riverport much more than a year. I think my mother said she met you a while ago, down in the grocery, and had a nice talk with you."
"I remember, and a fine little lady Mrs. Fenton is, to be sure. If she is your mother, boy, you've good cause to be satisfied. And I wouldn't say that about many women, either. But I was just wanting a little assistance, and called to the first person who happened to be passing along the street. My old servant is laid up to-day with an attack of lumbago; and the gardener is off on an errand that will take him two hours. Could you give me a few minutes of your time, Fred?"
"Why, yes, ma'am, sure I can. I was only going over to look up a chum, and talk about the chances we have in a boat race that is going to come off soon. What do you want me to do, Miss Muster?"
She looked at him again, with that suspicious gleam in her eyes. Somehow, Fred could not help feeling a little indignant. Because she chose to think the worst of her poor innocent nephew was no reason why Miss Muster should believe ill of every fellow.
He was almost tempted to say what he thought, and free his mind. Perhaps, then, she might understand that even a boy has feelings, and can suffer mentally, as well as bodily.
But on second thought Fred wisely kept his peace. There might be a better way to teach the old maid a needed lesson than by sharp talk, which would only serve to make her feel more bitter toward "upstart boys" in general.
Evidently Miss Muster must have gained a favorable impression from her survey of the lad, whom she had called inside.
"I guess after all thereisa difference in boys," she muttered, much to the secret amusement of Fred, who could easily imagine that she was comparing him with poor Bristles, and evidently much to the disadvantage of the latter.
He waited for her to speak, and wondered whether she wanted him to do something in the garden that possibly old Jake had neglected to look after, before going upon his errand; or if he would get an invitation to enter that big house again.
And as he involuntarily glanced toward the spot where the ugly-looking bulldog, called Beauty by his mistress, was now stretching his broad-beamed body, after his recent nap, Fred resolved to draw the line there. If she wanted him to approach the defender of the manse, he thought he would be showing the proper discretion if he politely but positively declined.
"Are your shoes clean, Fred?" she finally asked, looking down at his feet while putting the question.
"Why, yes, ma'am, they seem to be. There is no mud; and I'm in the habit of keeping my shoes clean at home," he replied, understanding from this remark that it must be the house, and not the garden, where his task awaited him.
"Then come into the house with me," she continued, as if thoroughly satisfied with her scrutiny.
Fred took off his cap and walked up the steps leading to the broad veranda. He would not have been a real boy had he not speculated as to what the lady wished with him. And it was in this frame of mind that he followed her into the wide hall of the house, which was to Bristles the home of mystery and the seat of all his trouble.
"Come right into this room, Fred," said Miss Muster, leading the way into what he remembered to be her living room, where she sat most of the time she was home, reading, writing letters, and paying attention to her business matters; for she had considerable money invested, and insisted on looking after the details herself, rather than trust a lawyer with them.
The first thing Fred saw upon entering was the pet cat, a big Persian, with long hair, and a handsome face. Then a restless movement from above called his attention to the raven, perched upon a curtain fixture, or pole, close to the ceiling, and, looking down wisely at them as they entered.
Fred immediately wondered whether he could be looking at the sly thief, who had been secretly making way with the old maid's treasures, as he noted the cunning aspect of Black Joe.
Miss Muster shook her finger angrily at the bird.
"Now we'll see whether you can defy me so impudently, you sly baggage!" she remarked, in rather a tart tone; and it burst upon Fred that, singularly enough, his unexpected visit to the mansion of the rich old maid was evidently in connection with something that had to, do with Black Joe.
Why, it really looked as though the luck that had come to the Fentons only the day before might still be following him, even in his desire to do his chum a good turn.
Perhaps the golden opportunity to find out something about Black Joe's tricks might be close at hand. How little he had dreamed of this when leaving his home only a few minutes before.
"Once in a great while," the lady went on to explain, "Joe gets a stubborn fit, and refuses to mind when I tell him to come to me. It always exasperates me; and twice before I've sent for the gardener to come and get the step-ladder, so that he can chase the rascal from pillar to post until finally he would fall into my grasp. I punish him by chaining him fast to that perch for a week; and as a rule he seems to amend his ways for a long time. But the last occasion failed most miserably, I must confess. Do you think you are strong enough to carry the step-ladder up from the basement, Fred?"
Fred had some difficulty in keeping his face free from a smile. The idea of her doubting his muscular ability, after all the athletic exercises he practiced; but then of course Miss Muster would not know that; so he only replied that he believed he would have no difficulty in doing all she required.
CHAPTER XIV
THE MISSING OPALS AGAIN
Following out the injunctions of Miss Muster, Fred easily found where the step-ladder was kept in the basement. Nor did he have the slightest difficulty in carrying it up the stairs after he had discovered it.
He noticed that the lady was very particular to keep the door of the living room closed; and remembered that it had been in that condition at the time of their first arrival.
"The artful rogue," Miss Muster explained; "would be only too glad to fly out, and scour the entire house, laughing at me, and mocking me as though possessed of the spirit of evil our great poet Edgar Allan Poe gave to the raven. But now that you have succeeded in getting the ladder, we shall soon corner him."
Fred was highly amused at the comical way the old raven watched the preparations being made, looking to his capture. He would cock his head on one side, as he looked down, and occasionally utter some droll word that seemed to fit the occasion exactly.
Having had considerable experience in chasing the mutinous bird all over the big room, Miss Muster seemed to know just how to manage things in order to get results with as little waste of time as possible.
"Fred, you take the ladder, and place it under this picture," she went on to say; "he always comes back there after each little flight. Then, with the broom I will shoo him off that curtain pole. He does get so excited, and goes on at such a terrible rate. Why, I sometimes seem to suspect that some of those strange words he uses may be what that Portuguese sailor, from whom I purchased him while over in England, taught him."
And indeed, once she started the bird flying wildly about, Black Joe did shriek out all manner of phrases, some of which Fred could understand, while others he was able to make nothing out of.
Fred knew the part he was expected to take in capturing the rebellious raven. He crouched there on the step-ladder, waiting for his chance. Trust a lively, wide-awake boy for being able to outwit any raven that ever lived. Black Joe may have believed himself smart, but he could not match wits with an up-to-date lad.
Fluttering his feathers indignantly, and still giving vent to a volume of angry cries, the raven presently, just as his mistress had said would be the case, settled on the top of the big picture frame.
Instantly a hand shot upward, and there was a squawk that seemed to be choked off, as Fred's fingers closed around the body and neck of wily Black Joe.
"Oh! please don't hurt him any, Fred!" cried the lady, dropping the broom, and hurrying over to take the bird from Fred's hands.
Indeed, the boy was not sorry to get rid of the savage creature, which was trying its best to give him vicious pecks, and struggling with wings and claws to break away.
Once in the possession of Miss Muster, however, it seemed to become very meek. She stroked it, murmuring endearing words, and proceeded to fasten a nickeled chain about one of it's legs, so that it could not fly away from the perch over in the corner by one of the windows, that were covered with wire mosquito netting.
"That was very cleverly done, Fred," remarked Miss Muster, in a tone that rather caused the boy to alter the opinion he had formed concerning her. "Poor old Jake is so clumsy he makes half a dozen attempts before he is able to catch the speedy bird. Once he upset the step-ladder, and sprawled all over the floor. And upon my word, I have always believed that sad wretch there laughed at him. It sounded like it, at any rate."
She was beginning to thaw out, and Fred found himself wondering if, after all, under the surface, Miss Muster might not have more feeling than she chose to let people believe.
He actually began to like her. And more than ever did he hope that something might come along to enable him to bring about a better understanding between the rich old maid and her once favorite nephew, now under an unmerited cloud.
"Sit down a few minutes, Fred," she continued. "And get your breath back after all the exertion of lugging that heavy ladder up here. Then I'd like you to take it back to where you found it. And I think I've got a book you'd like to own. I did mean to give it to Andrew on his birthday next week, but I have changed my mind."
Fred did not exactly like the way she pursed up her thin lips when she said this. She was doing Bristles an injustice, he felt sure. Of course he could not decline to take the book she meant to present him with, as pay for his services; but in his mind, as he was carrying back the ladder, Fred was determined that he would consider that it belonged to Bristles, and not himself.
Once more he entered the living room, where he found Miss Muster waiting for him, seated in her easy chair. The raven sat on his perch, with all his feathers ruffled up, as though he knew he was in disgrace with his indulgent mistress.
"Here is the book I want you to accept from me, Fred, and I hope you will enjoy reading it," and as she said this she held out a volume, which he saw was just such as a boy who loved athletic games would most enjoy.
"Thank you, ma'am," he hastened to say, seeing his opening. "I know I will like it; but I feel bad because you meant it for Bristles—I mean your nephew, Andrew."
She frowned at once.
"Please forget all about him just now, Fred," she said, decisively. "It's hard work for me to keep him out of my mind; but I never could bear deception; and, as for a sly little rascal, who looks you in the face, and denies everything, when you know he ispositivelyguilty, bah! I wash my hands of him forever. I could never believe him again, never!"
"But Miss Muster, he is innocent," said Fred; at which she started violently, and looked keenly at him.
"Then he has fooled you as well as me," she snapped. "I warrant you he is chuckling in his sleeve right now because he managed to deceive me so handily. Much he cares about my feelings, when I was beginning to have a foolish old woman's dreams about Andrew inheriting all my money, and making the name of Carpenter famous one of these days. Oh! it did hurt me cruelly, boy."
"But you are mistaken, ma'am, when you think he doesn't care," Fred went on hastily. "Why, he can't sleep nights, thinking about it."
"Well, that doesn't prove anything," Miss Muster remarked sarcastically. "A guilty soul often writhes when being punished; and I suppose my last note to my niece, his mother, brought him into a peck of trouble. I suppose now he does lie awake nights, thinking. Perhaps he wonders what he can do with my lovely opals, now he's got them. Or he may be scheming how to lay hands on the balance."
"He was in to see me this morning, ma'am," Fred observed.
"Oh! is that so? And do you think, Fred, that nice little mother of yours would like it, if she knew you were keeping company with a boy who was suspected of abusing the confidence of, his fond aunt, and helping himself to her possessions."
"I think," said Fred, stoutly, "that if she heard all Andy had to say, and saw how he suffered, she'd believe just as I do, that he is innocent, and never touched your opals, Miss Muster."
"Well, somebody did;" the old lady snapped; though evidently more or less affected by the staunch way Fred stood up for his chum; "does he have any idea who could have done it? Perhaps he thinks my old black Mammy did; or poor, but honest, Jake Stall. He was always a fanciful boy, and it might be he suspects I walk in my sleep, and go around secreting my own property?"
"No, ma'am he has never hinted at any such thing; but he says, while lying awake at three o'clock this morning, thinking and thinking how he could prove his innocence, he suddenly seemed to guess who it might be taking your pretty stones."
Fred turned and pointed toward the blinking raven as he spoke.
"Well, now," remarked Miss Muster, looking surprised, and then smiling disdainfully; "if that isn't just like Andrew for all that's out, to accuse my poor pet of doing so mean a thing. It is true, I know they will steal, and secrete such things as they particularly fancy; but I watch Joe closely. Besides, there is another good reason why he couldn't have taken those opals."
"Yes, ma'am," said Fred, when she paused as if for breath.
"He has been chained to that perch for more than a week past, and I only set him free this very morning. So you see how Andrew's brilliant theory falls to the ground. He must think up something else, if he hopes to prove his own innocence. I wish he could, indeed I do. My heart feels very heavy these days, for I was beginning to have some faith in boys. But say no more. If you are going, Fred, please come into the other room with me. I want to show you a splendid specimen of a saw, taken from a sawfish down in the West Indies, and sent to me. It is more than three feet long. You will be interested, because nearly all boys like everything pertaining to fishing."
So Fred followed her across the wide hall. She opened the door of the parlor, in which he remembered he had been on that former visit, at the time she showed him the little bowl containing the opals, and other valuable curios.
After opening the door Miss Muster passed in, Fred followed, but remained a respectful distance behind her, a fact for which he afterwards had reason to be thankful.
Some sudden notion seemed to take possession of the old lady for quickly crossing over she took down the little Japanese bowl, as if to count the opals remaining. Fred heard her give a startled cry. Then she hastily looked again, after which she set the bowl down on a table with a hand that trembled violently, and turning angrily upon Fred, she cried in her sharpest tones:
"He sent you here to follow up his miserable trick! All boys are thieves, and in spite of the lovely little mother you have, Fred Fenton, you are as bad as the rest of them!"
Fred could hardly believe his ears when thus accused. He stood there for several seconds, no doubt turning red and white by turns, as he tried to restrain the indignation that swept over him like a great wave.