CHAPTER VI
THE WILD DOG PACK
"How's that, Bristles, a pack of wild dogs running around, and killing sheep?" Fred demanded, appearing to take uncommon interest in what his companion had just said.
"Yes, and Fred, I honestly believe that farmer lives somewhere up in this region, because I heard him tell about having a runaway near the Belleville tollgate, and you know that's where we expect to fetch out on the road ahead."
"Then that settle it, Bristles. And there's no doubt we're hearing the yelping of that same pack right now. I reckon they're on some track or other."
"Whew! I hope it isn't our track then!" exclaimed the other lad, as he began hurriedly to look about him for a stout club, and eye the neighboring trees, as if an unpleasant alternative had forced itself upon his notice.
"The sounds seem to come from back yonder, where we passed along," remarked Fred; and as though in his mind an ounce of prevention might be better than a pound of cure, he too hastened to pick tip a heavy billet of wood, that was as large as an ordinary baseball club.
"But what makes dogs act that way, and go wild?" asked Bristles. "I never knew of any doing such a queer stunt."
"It's this way," explained the other, quickly, as though he had recently been reading the matter up, and was full of information. "Dogs are kin to wolves and foxes, you know. Fact is, many a wolf I've seen looked just like a dog."
"Yes, that's a fact, Fred!" admitted Bristles, nodding his head, and still noting the fact that the chorus of barks, yelps and snarls seemed to be gradually approaching all the time.
"Well, every once in a while some dog seems to hear the call of the wild. He takes a dislike to confinement, hates human beings, and the first chance he gets puts out for the woods, where he lives just as a wolf would do, by the chase. Sometimes farmers' watchdogs that are thought to be honest get this sheep-killing habit, and play tricks, covering their tracks so they go a long time without being found out, and then only by accident."
"Yes, I've heard all about that, too, Fred, but because one dog goes wild, why should a whole lot of others follow after him, I want to know?"
"Well," continued the other, "as far as I understand it, here's the reason. Every dog has that same nature about him. I've seen it proven many times. We had an old dog named Mose, who was never known to chase anybody. He used to lie there asleep on our front porch by the hour. Then next door there was a little cur that somehow took to chasing after wheels and wagons. You've heard how dogs yap-yap whenever they do that, haven't you, Bristles?"
"Lots of times," assented the other, nodding, and still earnestly listening.
"It's about like some of that racket we hear now," Fred went on to explain. "They say it excites a dog like everything. When that little cur next door would start down the street with a yap-yap-yap, I've seen our poor old Mose jump up, as if he'd had a signal no living dog could resist, and go rushing out of the yard, to join in with the cur and some others that gathered like a flash. That's what it means."
"And these other dogs have got the fever in their veins by this time too, eh, Fred?"
"Yes, and they are satisfied to chase around after the leader, perhaps taking an humble part in his kills. But Bristles, I'm afraid we're going to see for ourselves what the pack looks like."
"You mean they're coming this way fast now?" observed Bristles, tightening his grip on the club he had selected from many that lay under a tree shattered by a bolt of lightning the previous Summer.
"There's no doubt about it!" declared Fred, steadily.
"Course we could shin up a tree if we wanted to, Fred, but that'd go against my grain. I feel like standing my ground, and trying to get a whack at that sheep-killing leader of the pack. Gee! wouldn't the farmers give us a vote of thanks if we did manage to put him out of the running?"
"We may have the chance sooner than we expected," Fred went on to say, grimly, for the tempest of sounds seemed to be very close now, and they could actually hear the rush of the advancing pack.
"How many are there, do you think?" asked Bristles, and if his voice trembled a little, Fred believed it was from excitement rather than fear, because he had seen this local comrade tested many times, and knew that he never flinched.
"At least four," Fred replied, "because I can make out that many different yelpings, and there may be six, with some small runts coming along in the rear."
"I only wish I had more duds on, and a pair of leather leggings in the bargain," muttered Bristles, glancing rather ruefully down at his bare shins, which of course were wholly unprotected.
"Here they come!" announced Fred, suddenly.
There was a rush of pattering feet, together with a fierce series of yelps, and then through the thicket came pouring a string of hustling animals, heading directly toward the two boys.
"Whew! he is a dandy, sure enough!" exclaimed Bristles, referring of course to the large animal in the lead.
This was a dun-colored beast about the size of a wolf and not unlike one in many of his attributes. He presented a really terrifying front now, with his open jaws that disclosed shining fangs and a red tongue, and his blazing eyes, together with the bristles that stood up on his neck very much like those of a wild hog.
"Give 'em a shout!" exclaimed Fred, who remembered at that moment that most dogs have learned to respect the sound of a human voice, and this might serve to bring about a halt in the onrush of the savage pack.
Accordingly both of the young men started swinging their clubs wildly about their heads and yelling at the top of their voices. This threatening demonstration did have some effect on the milder elements of the pack, those dogs that had been lured into wrong-doing, and were not viciously inclined. Three immediately fell back, and one of these even turned tail and started to run away at breakneck speed as though the sight of those cudgels inspired him with respect, on account of a recollection of some previous beating.
There were three, however, that still kept on, the leader of the pack, and a couple of others. If ever Fred Fenton in all his life wished heartily for a gun of some kind it must have been just then, when, with only a single companion to stand alongside, he found himself about to be attacked by a trio of furious dogs gone wild, and running through the woods.
It would not have been so bad had there been only two, for then each of them could manage an adversary; but that odd beast bothered him.
"Tackle the leader, and leave the others to me; I'll help you as soon as I send them flying!" was what Fred exclaimed, as the three dogs bore down upon them.
"All right; I'm on, Fred!"
There was no time for another word, because the animals were upon them. They came with a rush, as though furious at seeing the bare-legged boys in their hunting preserves. That leader must have taken a decided hatred of all human kind, and when backed by his followers, seemed ready for any deed of daring.
Fred and Bristles had their hands full from the very start. It was their object to do all the damage they could without allowing any of the dogs a chance to sink their teeth into their legs, or leap upon their backs, as they appeared desirous of doing.
Luckily both boys were sturdy and agile. More than this, they realized the desperate nature of their position, for no help could reach them there. If they hoped to come out of the fight with credit, they must depend wholly upon their own valor and ability.
Bristles whacked the dun-colored beast soundly, as he made a ferocious leap up toward his throat, and had the satisfaction of seeing him whirl headlong. It was only a temporary backset, however, for as soon as the animal recovered his feet he made another mad rush, so that the boy was kept busy prodding him, using his club right and left as an Irishman might his shillalah, and in every way possible trying to beat the brute off.
All the while Bristles kept up a shouting that was intended to nerve his own arm, and possibly help to strike terror into the hearts of the four-footed assailants.
"You will, eh? Take that for a starter, and plenty more where that came from! Try to catch me off my guard, will you? Whoop! that was a beauty of a crack! Hope I made you see stars that time, you snarling beast, you! Get back there! Shinny on your own side, can't you?" and he gave a sudden kick at one of the smaller dogs, that, taking advantage of the row, had tried to creep in and nip him on the leg.
While all this was going on, Fred had his hands full with the other two dogs. If they lacked some of the ferocity and daring of the leader of the pack, it was made up in the fact of their being a pair to watch, and keep from closing in with him.
Fast his club flew, and hearty were the whacks he gave right and left. One after the other he had sent his assailants headlong, thanks to lucky shots. When they returned to the scrap, they began to give evidence that this sort of thing had begun to pall upon their liking, and this encouraged the boy to work harder than ever.
Just then, imagine the delight of the two hard pressed boys when they heard a cheery shout close by, and saw a lithe figure, also in running trunks, come leaping toward the spot.
No need for them to ask themselves who this could be, for well did they know the most remarkable method of getting over the ground peculiar to Colon, and which some people likened to the singular hopping of a kangaroo.
He already had a club in his hand, and he immediately started in to wield it with telling effect on one of Fred's assailants. The consequence was that this particular dog turned tail, and ran off at top speed. Its mate, as though realizing the folly of keeping up an unequal combat, hastened to do the same.
This left the savage leader of the pack alone to face three antagonists. Fred could not help but feel something akin to admiration for the defiant beast as he attacked first one and then another of them. Evidently the idea of running, and saving his hide, had not as yet appealed to the enraged dog.
"Keep knocking him, everybody!" shrieked Bristles, now more than ever determined on finishing the terror of the neighboring farmers. "We've just got to nail him, boys. Don't let him shoot past you! Pound him on the head! Knock him galleywest! That was a socker, Fred; you've got him down, I tell you! Now, everyone pile in and we'll end his sheep-killing career for him!"
There was a concerted rush from three sides. The half dazed beast could not recover in time to leap upon anyone of his foes, though he snapped his jaws together so that his terrible teeth met with a clicking sound.
For a short time the clubs rained blows on his head, until Fred finally called out:
"That's enough, fellows; he's thrown up the sponge!"
"Hurrah for us; we've cleaned the ugly pack out, boys!" cried Bristles, thought so short of breath after his exertions that he could hardly stand erect.
Yes, the sheep-killing dog had been slain, and while Fred was of course very well pleased over the outcome of the fight, at the same time he looked down with considerable respect upon the dun-colored beast that could exhibit such desperate courage, and put up such a game defense against three foes.
Bristles insisted upon shaking hands with each one of his mates, and then he and Fred turned upon the long-legged Colon with a look of wonder on their faces, as though they could not understand how it was he had shown up at such a lucky moment.
CHAPTER VII
THE SHORT-CUT WAY
"Now, where did you drop down from, Colon?" asked Bristles.
"Me?" exclaimed the tall chum, with a broad smile on his face. "Why, straight from town, if you want to know. You see, I found out, after all, I could get off, and hurried to where you said you'd start, but Fred's ma told me you had half an hour the lead of me. Still, as I happened to know the layout of the trip, I made up my mind I'd follow along, and hump myself a little to overtake you fellows.
"But how'd you know where we left the road, and started across the woodland, tell me, Colon?" asked Bristles; whereupon the other nodded his head, and looked wise.
"Oh! well!" he explained, "you see, Fred told me about where he expected to break away and so of course I kept looking; and I saw that you'd turned out just about under that bunch of birch trees. Why, you left a plain track in the dust on the road. After that I used my eyes and my head, and kept pushing right along. I'm reckoned something of a scout in the woods, you must know."
"You certainly have done a big thing in that line this time, Colon," asserted Fred, vigorously; "I never would have believed him, if someone told me you'd done it. And let me remark that you certainly came in on us at the right time."
"I should say he did," assented Bristles, joyfully. "I was getting tired of swinging my club, and whacking that terrible critter. Talk to me about being able to stand punishment,—-I never before saw a dog that could come up fresh every time you keeled him over. Most curs would run away, howling like mad, but he just set his teeth, and took a fresh grip. Whew! I'm sure glad it's all over."
"Either of you get nipped anywhere?" asked Colon, anxiously.
"I hope not," Fred replied, "it's a dangerous thing to have a dog bite you, because you never know what's going to happen. Often the scratch from the claws of a tiger or a lion is followed by blood poisoning, because they tear their prey, you know. I was sent over once, and seem to have a few scratches on my shins, but they came from the stones and thorns. How about you, Bristles?"
"I kicked one of those smaller runts that tried to bite me, but I don't think he got his teeth in my leg. Those blood marks are scratches, where I ran into the thorn bush while I was jumping around so lively. Oh! it's all right, and no damage done, boys. Everything's lovely, and the goose hangs high!"
"But what does all this rumpus mean?" Colon wanted to know. "Whose dogs were they, and what had you done to make the push mad?"
Bristles undertook to tell him, passing on some of the information which he had received from Fred.
"Now I'm posted. I seem to get a grip on the business," Colon confessed, "and I want to tell you I'm mighty glad I made up my mind to follow after, and see if I couldn't come up before you got back home again."
"And believe me we're happy to know you did, Colon," Bristles assured him, "because there's no telling what sort of a hard time we'd have been up against, with that pack trying their level best to pull us down. We might have had to climb up in a tree, and sit there all night, for all we know. But Fred, what'd we better do about it now?"
"About what?" asked the other.
"This dog here," continued Bristles, pointing down at the animal that looked so fierce even in death.
"I was just thinking," Fred told him, "whether we had better lift him into the fork of a tree, so he could be found if we let the farmers know about it, or try to drag him along to the tollgate house."
"It can't be so very far away, I should think," observed Colon, "and I'd be willing to take my turn at dragging him there."
"Nothing like showing the proof, when you tell a whopping big story," declared Bristles, "and I know a lot of fellows who'll like as not lift their eyebrows, and grin to beat the band when they hear about this warm time we've had. We want to be able to stamp the yarn as true as anything that ever happened. So take hold of one leg, Colon, and I'll manage the other. Sho! that's easy enough going, and for one I don't mind it a bit."
"Call on me to take my turn any time, boys," announced Fred, as he started off in the lead.
The wild dog pack had evidently been effectually broken up by the energetic action of the Riverport runners. Not a single bark or yelp was to be heard in any direction. Scattered to the four winds the dogs were apt to return to their respective homes, and change their bad habits. With the loss of their savage ringleader, the impulse to live a wild life would possibly leave them all.
Fred once more began to figure on their course. He knew that the faint trail he and Bristles had been following through the woods had begun to bear away in a quarter that made it impossible for them to pursue it any longer, if they expected to come out near the Belleville tollgate.
Thanks to his possession of the compass, and something of a knowledge of the general conditions, Fred was able to decide on this without much trouble.
They did not make any attempt at speed indeed, that would have been utterly impossible, while they continued to drag the slain dog along after them. Colon finally gave a hint that he was ready to abandon the idea of showing the result of their encounter to the toll-gate keeper, notwithstanding that through him all the farmers in that neighborhood would eventually learn of their good luck.
"But I don't like to quit anything I've started on," objected Bristles, when the long-legged runner had thus casually mentioned that it was no fun dragging the big beast over rough ground. "Think how far we've kept it up already. Huh! want to have that work just wasted? Not much for me! If you're tired, Colon, just say the word, and I'll lug him along by myself, or else Fred ahead there might lend me a helping hand."
"Me tired? Why, whatever put that silly notion in your head, Bristles? I didn't know you set such great store by showing the old thing; but since I see you do, why of course I'm game to hold out to the finish. Hope you don't want to get the blooming dog stuffed, and keep him mounted in your den at home."
"Well, that'd be the limit!" exclaimed Bristles, laughing at the idea. "I feel right now that he's going to visit me lots of times in my dreams, with all that double row of white teeth showing, and his red lips drawn back! Ugh! I'll not forget in a hurry how he looked, I tell you, Colon. And didn't he take the punishment I heaped on him, though? I used up every ounce of strength I had in slinging my club. You notice that I'm toting that along, don't you?"
"Oh! that's the racket, is it? A bow of blue ribbon tied to the club, and hang it on the wall of your room at home? Well, Bristles, I don't blame you much, because he was an ugly customer. If he'd ever gotten you down, it'd been tough on you."
"Here, let up on that style of talk, will you, Colon? It makes me have a cold chill run up and down my spinal column. Let's talk about something more cheerful. What d'ye think about this shortcut through the woods? Fred says it's going to save a lot, and that nearly every fellow will like as not take to it. A mile of this goes against three by the road."
"So long as every contestant knows the ground, it might pay to take the cut-off," Colon remarked, "but I noticed some swampy ground that I'd hate to get lost in. If any runner fails to show up at the tape, they'll have to send out a searching party to look for him through this section."
"That'll be his lookout, then," observed Bristles, calmly. "Everybody shinny on his own side. Preparation is part of the battle. The fellow who is too lazy to go over the course in advance will have to take big chances, that's all. He won't deserve to win."
"This is certainly a dreary place, all right," the tall runner went on to say, as he looked to the right, and then to the left. "Why, I didn't know there was such a desolate stretch of woodland within twenty miles of Riverport. Some of it's good farming land too, if part is boggy, and even that would make a cranberry marsh, if anyone wanted to try it out."
"It's all second growth timber, though," called back Fred, who was still just a dozen paces in the lead, and pushing his way through brush that often entirely concealed the ground.
"Sure it is," Bristles went on to say. "Long ago the original timber was cut down, and sent to the sawmills. Listen to the frogs croaking over that way; must be a pond somewhere around."
"I was going to ask you if you'd run across any snakes yet?" Colon inquired, with considerable show of interest, because, as well known among his friends, the tall runner had always felt a decided antipathy for all crawling things, and would never handle even an inoffensive garter-snake; indeed, slimy greenbacked frogs he abominated, claiming that they had the same clammy feeling as snakes.
"Why, yes, a couple whipped across the trail back there," Bristles admitted.
"Not rattlers, I hope?" ejaculated Colon, coming to a sudden stop, as he turned an apprehensive look upon his companion.
"No," Bristles told him, with a scornful inflection in his voice, for he did not share Colon's antipathy toward crawling reptiles, and could not understand how any fellow could be so foolish as to shiver at sight of a mere wriggling object. "Fred says it's too early for rattlers to show out of their dens. One was a fair-sized black snake, and the other might have been an adder; he was short and stumpy, and had a flat head."
"Just as poisonous as anything that crawls," said Colon, with a shudder, and an involuntary hasty look around him. As a rule, he was far from being nervous, and yet when a stick that had bent under Fred's weight suddenly sprang back into shape again, the tall runner gave a low cry of alarm, and even dropped the leg of the dog that he had been clinging to so sturdily all that distance.
Not liking to be joked about his fears, Colon made out that a thorn had jabbed him in the leg, and bending down he started to rubbing vigorously at his ankle. Bristles, apparently, was aware of the true state of affairs, for he grinned as he waited for the other to assist him once more.
"These thorns do stick you right smart when they get a chance at a bare shin, for a fact, Colon," he went on to observe, grimly, "but so long as they don't draw blood, the damage's not apt to amount to much, I reckon. There's Fred disappeared from sight, and we'll have to hurry if we want to catch up with him before we strike that road, which I calculate can't be a great way off."
It happened that they were passing over some rather rough country just then, with a number of dark-looking gullies intersecting their course. In places it was even necessary for them to drop down into these and then climb up on the opposite side. This took time, but the boys fancied they must be close to the road they had been aiming to reach.
"See anything of Fred, yet?" asked Bristles. "You're such a tall fellow you c'n spy a heap farther than me."
Colon looked, and then shook his head.
"He's nowhere around, as far as I c'n see," he remarked, and dropping his share of the burden, Colon sprang back in alarm, as a voice seemed to come up out of the very earth at their feet, saying:
"Keep back there, you fellows, or you'll be tumbling down on top of me!"
"Hello! there, Fred, where under the sun are you?" demanded Bristles, looking around him in sheer amazement.
"I've fallen into some sort of cave here, that's all!" came back in a muffled voice.
CHAPTER VIII
THE TELL-TALE PIN
Colon and Bristles stood there, and looked at each other in dismay, upon hearing Fred say that he had met with such a strange misfortune.
"Well, if that doesn't beat my time!" the latter exclaimed. "And to think that while you and I talked back there, our chum was lying down in some old black hole. What if he's broken his leg, or even sprained an ankle,—-Riverport will miss a good man in this Marathon race, believe me!"
"Let's see if we can find the hole where Fred slipped down," suggested
Colon.
"And be careful we don't go the same way, too," added Bristles, drily.
At that they started to move carefully forward, closely examining every foot of the way as they went. In a short time Colon uttered a cry.
"Found it, have you?" demanded Bristles, with a disappointed grunt, for he had hoped to be the lucky one himself.
"Look there where that root sticks up!" the other called out, pointing as he explained. "Seems to me there might be a gap of some sort. Let's creep a little closer and find out. Yes, that's the hole, and no mistake, Bristles. And Fred—-he must have slipped down so fast he just couldn't grab hold of anything. If he did, it gave way, and went down along with him."
They accordingly crept forward, and began to stare down through the opening.
"Why, what's this I see?" ejaculated Bristles. "Somebody's got a light working down there, Colon!"
"It's our chum, I reckon," the tall boy told him, after another look.
"What, Fred?" persisted Bristles. "But whatever would he be striking a match for, I want to know?"
"To look around, I should say," Colon informed him, and the statement seemed so simple that it apparently convinced Bristles on the spot, for he hastened to remark:
"Well, that sure would be just like Fred now, to think of finding out what sort of a coop he'd dropped into, the first thing. Hello! down there!"
"Hello! yourself, Bristles!" came back the cheery answer.
"First of all, tell us if you got hurt any, Fred!" called Bristles, who could not get the notion out of his head that the other may have been seriously injured.
"Why, no, nothing to mention," came the ready answer. "A few more little scratches, it might be, but then they don't count. Kind of knocked the breath out of my body at first, and took me a little while to recover, but no damage done, boys."
"What are you doing with the light, Fred?" Colon wanted to know.
"I only wanted to see what sort of a place this is, that's all," Fred told him, as his match expired, and the darkness came again.
"And did you find out?" continued Bristles, eagerly, possibly his mind beginning to wrestle with all sorts of strange ideas concerning hidden treasure vaults, and, mysterious hiding-places where counterfeiters carried on their illegal trade.
"It seems to be only an ordinary cave, like others we've run across," Fred told them. "If you felt like coming down, I think it would be easy enough."
"Not the way you tried it, Fred; you'll have to excuse me," laughed Bristles. "But I think I can feel the rough rocks here, and seems as if a fellow as spry as Colon might manage to shuffle down. Anyhow, I'm going to try it. I've got a few matches of my own in my pocket, that we could use to look around with."
"Take it slow, and no hurry, boys," warned Fred, at the same time moving out of the way, so that if a stone were dislodged in their passage, it would not come in contact with his head.
For a couple of minutes there could be heard a scraping noise, as the two boys lowered themselves down into the opening. Fred struck another match, which he held up in order to give them the benefit of the feeble illumination. Assisted by this light, both of the newcomers managed to reach the side of their chum without encountering any serious difficulty.
"Well, here we are, fellows, all down!" Bristles declared, with a sigh of relief. "I only hope that when we try to climb up again, it won't be an all day job."
"Much easier than coming in," Colon told him. "It always is, when you're mounting a steep cliff; because then you can see just where you're going. When starting down you hardly know where to put each foot, and when you look to see, it makes you giddy to find how far below the bottom lies."
"Did you see anything when you looked around, that made you want to take a second peep, Fred?" asked Bristles, still clinging to his suspicion.
"I don't know," replied Fred. "It's like this. The match was going out when I thought I glimpsed something on the rocky floor that looked like the ashes of a dead fire! And after that I thought I'd like to make sure before I left here,—-just to satisfy my curiosity, you know, boys."
"A fire, eh?" ventured Bristles. "Well, since no wild animal was ever known to start such a thing, that tells us this same cave must have sheltered human beings some time or other."
"Hoboes, most likely," observed Colon; "trust them for finding such a snug hiding-place, after they've gone and robbed some country postoffice, or a farmer's chicken coop."
"I'll strike a light, then, and Fred, you show us where the ashes lie," and with these words Bristles drew a match hastily along the seat of his trousers, causing it to burst into a bright flame.
"Over this way, boys," Fred told them, as he stepped across the rocky floor of the cave that had been found in such a queer way.
It was just as he had said, for there on the stones they could see the plain marks of a fire. Colon knew a thing or two about woodcraft, and the very first indication of this was when he thrust his hand into the ashes.
"As cold as they can be," he observed, immediately.
"Which shows that the fire hasn't been burning lately at all," Bristles hastened to add, to prove that he understood what Colon meant to infer.
"Whoever camped in here cooked a meal or two, that's plain," Fred remarked, as he pointed to some chicken bones that were strewn around.
"Tramps, as sure as anything, and they've been raiding the hencoops around this region, too," Colon ventured to say.
"And that poor old wild dog had to stand the blame for it all," said Bristles. "It's nearly always that way; give a dog a bad name, and everybody condemns him. For all we know, some of the sheep that have been killed might have been pulled down by an innocent looking shaggy dog belonging to the farmer himself, but it's so easy to saddle the blame on the wicked one. What was that you picked up, Colon?"
"As near as I can make out it looks like one of those tin biscuit boxes you see at the store," the tall boy replied, holding the object up. "It's got a rubber band around it. Queer thing for tramps to buy. Only imported biscuits are put up this way, Miss Fletcher told me, and she ought to know because she's English, and won't eat any other kind."
"Let me see that tin, will you please, Colon?" asked Fred, suddenly.
After he had looked sharply at it, inside and out, he nodded his head.
"I thought it might be like that," Fred remarked, mysteriously. This manner of talking caused his comrades to stare, and Colon cried out:
"Now, whatever is there about that old tin to make you speak like that, Fred? If you'd picked up a clue to some robbery, you couldn't look more pleased.
"Perhaps we have," said Fred, meaningly. "Take another look at this tin box, both of you. Notice how the heavy rubber band has been fastened underneath, so it couldn't get lost. You never heard of such a thing being done where there were just plain crackers in a tin, did you? Of course not. Well, don't you see that this would make a splendid receptacle for papers, or securities? And just before your match went out, Bristles, I thought I could see a little scrap of paper sticking in a corner. That would prove it had held such things."
Bristles could be heard uttering a series of exclamations, as he started to get another match going.
"If this doesn't take the cake! Why, all of us ought to remember how old Mr. Periwinkle complained that someone had entered his house and hooked a sum of money, as well as some papers he kept in a tin box in his desk. Why, this must be the same tin box, fellows! We ought to keep it, and show it to him."
They examined the thing once more, while the match was burning.
"Guess you're right, Bristles, and this is the box old Periwinkle kept his valuables in," Colon pursued, "but mighty little comfort it's going to do him to set eyes on the same again. Would you care to have the shells turned back to you, after somebody'd gone and gobbled up the fat kernel of the nut?"
"It will settle the fact that the robber, whoever he could have been, must have stayed in this cave lately," said Fred, seriously. "I don't think these ashes are very old, perhaps not more than a couple of days, at most. So you see that tells us the thief must be around here still."
"Watching out for a bigger haul, more'n likely!" Bristles declared, somewhat excitedly. "I don't believe he got much at Periwinkle's place, because the old man is poor as Job's turkey; leastways he makes out to be, though some folks say he's a sort of miser. But there are farmers that keep quite a sum of money around, and it might be this hobo is waiting to get a chance at a big haul."
"How do we know but what he aims to clean out the Riverport bank some fine night; that sort of thing has been done lots of times in other places?" remarked Colon.
"All of which makes our duty the plainer, boys," Fred told them, "which is to keep this tin box, and show it to Chief Sutton. He'll know what to do about it, and if he says we ought to tell Mr. Periwinkle, why, we'll take a turn up there to-night. I heard that he'd offered a small reward for the return of the papers, and no questions asked; which was a bid to the thief to send the same back, and get paid for doing it."
"And to think of you falling down into this cave the way you did, Fred," Colon continued. "Do you reckon that hole up there might be the only way in and out?"
"Well, as far as I could see around, it's only a small affair, so I wouldn't be surprised if that turned out to be the case," was the reply Fred made.
Bristles apparently had brought a bountiful supply of matches along, and did not mean to spare them, if by striking successive lights he could satisfy his curiosity.
The others saw him bend forward, and act as though he had picked some small object from the rocky floor of the cave.
"What did you find, Bristles?" demanded Fred.
"Share and share alike," called out Colon. "If you've discovered a diamond, why we all ought to have a part of what you get for the same. What's that, Bristles? Well, I declare, if it isn't a sort of breastpin, as sure as you live! But such a cheap affair isn't worth ten cents. If that's the stuff this robber has got his pockets lined with, it won't pay the Chief much to chase him down. Only a flimsy little old plated breastpin, with a red stone in it. Huh!"
But the face that Bristles turned on Fred Fenton expressed a vast amount of uneasiness, surprise and concern.
"Gee! I wonder now, if that could be?" he was muttering, so that even Fred began to see that Bristles had struck some sort of clue calculated to stagger him more or less.
"What ails you, Bristles?" Fred asked him, pointedly, as the match went out.
"Why, Fred, as sure as my name is Andy Carpenter, which I sometimes hear it is, I've seen this same silly little pin before!"
"Where?" demanded Fred, almost holding his breath as though he anticipated the answer that was coming.
"That little girl had it on the day we pulled her brother, Sam Ludson, out of the river," was the startling reply.
CHAPTER IX
AT THE TOLL-GATE
"Are you sure of that, Bristles?" asked Fred, upon hearing his chum make such an astonishing assertion with regard to that tawdry breastpin picked up in the cave.
"Fred, you c'n see for yourself that while this is a mighty cheap old thing, it's made in a queer shape," Bristles went on to say.
"All of which is true, I admit," the other confessed.
"Well, you know I've always been a great hand for noticing things," said
Bristles.
"Sure you have," interrupted Colon, who was listening intently, although it was all "Greek" to him; "and 'specially when they happen to be connected with a pretty girl."
Bristles grinned as he turned on the tall chum.
"Oh! rats!" he exclaimed, "you're off your base this time, Colon, because she was a homely little thing, and with clothes on that I'd hate to see a sister of mine wearing. But I say again, and I'll keep on saying it—-Sadie, if that was her name, was wearing this same brooch the day we pulled her brother Sam out of the river, when he'd broke into an airhole."
"You understand what that might mean, don't you, Bristles?" pursued Fred.
"Why, I reckon now you're trying to make me see that the boy'n girl might have had something to do with the stealing of Mr. Periwinkle's money and papers," was the way Bristles answered him.
"If the girl was here, the boy must have been, too," said Fred.
"But gee whiz! Fred, that youngster didn't look as if he had half enough nerve to do a thing like that," urged Bristles, scornfully.
"Oh! he had nerve enough, never fear," Fred went on to remark, "for you may remember he never gave a single peep himself, and it was the girl who did the shouting for help."
"Might have been scared too much," suggested Colon, wanting to have some say in the matter.
"No, I don't think he was," replied Fred, "because the girl told us he kept urging and demanding that she hold back and not try to help him, because his one fear seemed to be she would fall in too. But there's one thing we haven't seemed to figure on before, Bristles."
"Say, I just bet you're going to spring that uncle on ne," remarked the other, with surprising quickness.
"Why not," demanded Fred, "when we have learned that Corny Ludson has charge of the boy and girl, and must have been here in this cave with them. There was a man here, because I've found signs of his smoking several cheap cigars, throwing the stubs around afterwards."
"What's that?" cried Colon, just then; "say that name again for me, won't you?"
"Why, Corny Ludson, a man who seems to be uncle or guardian or something to the boy we pulled out of the Mohunk, the last time we ran my iceboat up river," Bristles informed him.
Colon looked happy. No longer was he to remain "sitting on the fence," without feeling he had any particular interest in the game. Circumstances had managed it so that he could now enter the free-for-all race, and take his place in line.
"Now that's a rather odd name, you'll admit, boys," he started to say in his slow, shrewd fashion, "and it's not likely that there'd be two Corny Ludsons around this section of country; likewise having a couple of half-grown kids along in the bargain."
"Go on, Colon; it begins to look like you knew something we want to hear the worst way," Bristles urged.
"Here's the way it stands, then, fellows," the obliging Colon continued.
"At first I didn't just catch the last name when you spoke about Sam and
Sadie. That is why I didn't break in sooner. But Ludson gives it away.
He's the same man Mr. Peets the butcher was talking about one day some
little time ago."
"Yes, but tell us what he said, can't you?" urged Bristles.
"You see, I was in there waiting to be served, and the butcher was talking with Judge Wallace. I don't know how it came about they got to arguing, but seemed that Mr. Peets wanted to back up something he said, and so he started in to tell about a man that had just left the shop, having two children along, after buying the cheapest kind of a cut. Said his name was Corny Ludson, and that once he used to be a rich man over in New Brunswick, but he'd lost all he had, and now depended on his wits for a mighty poor living."
"That all sounds pretty, interesting, Colon; but if there's any more, suppose you get along and give us the same," Bristles told him.
"I remember I heard Mr. Peets say he didn't like the looks of the man," continued the one who was giving the story; "and then he went on to explain that he considered himself a good reader of character, which allowed him to size the said Ludson up as a trickster who wouldn't stop at taking things belonging to other people, if he believed he could do it without getting caught!"
"Bully!" exclaimed Bristles; "that covers the bill to a dot, doesn't it Fred? Sure Corny must have believed he saw a good chance to grab this tin box belonging to Mr. Periwinkle, and not get the hooks in him. He did it, too, and has been living on the proceeds of the robbery ever since."
"There must be something mysterious about the man, then," remarked Fred.
"And it might pay for someone to get in touch with the people over in New
Brunswick, so as to find out whether he did live there once, a rich man,
and why he cleared out."
"That's right, Fred," observed Bristles. "When people fight shy of their native place, it pays to learn the reason. Course sometimes they have a good cause for keeping away, but lots of 'em do so because they dassen't go back. But I'm meaning to keep this queer little pin."
"And if you happen to run across Sadie Ludson again, you'll give it back to her, won't you?" Fred asked him.
"Just what I had in mind, to a dot," admitted Bristles. "I might tell her where I picked it up, too, and see what she'd say."
"Well, even if you did get her to admit that she'd been here, that wouldn't prove anything, would it?" queried Colon.
"We'd know Corny had been camping in this cave," said Bristles, sturdily, "and from the fact that we picked up this same tin box, empty, it'd look pretty much as if he ought to know something about it. They'd call that circumstantial evidence."
"And if the boy and girl had to be questioned by Judge Wallace they might he coaxed to confess that they'd seen their uncle handling this tin box," added Fred. "That would fix the blame without any question."
"Something may come of our find," Colon went on to say, now feeling that he had a perfect right to count himself in the game, "and on that account I reckon you'd be doing the right thing to keep both the pin and the box, boys."
"And all we ask of you, Colon," Bristles suggested, "is that you stick mum. Let Fred run the thing. If he wants any help, he'll tell us, so we c'n assist."
"Oh! I'll be a clam," asserted the tall runner with a chuckle, "and once I give my word, nobody ever knew me to break it. But say, doesn't it feel kind of chilly down here? Remember we haven't any too much on in the way of clothes, and for one I was a little heated after my run to catch up with you fellows."
"That's where your head is level, Colon," Fred told him, "and so we might as well climb out of this. I'm happy to know I didn't even sprain an ankle when I dropped down through that hole."
They found no great difficulty in gaining the outside world again, for the stones offered a substantial footing. So it came about that presently the three chums were once more moving along at a fair pace, being desirous of throwing off that chilly feeling.
It turned out that Fred's calculations were correct "to a hair," as Bristles triumphantly declared, when they burst upon the road just fifty yards above the Belleville toll-gate.
"That's figuring some for you!" he exclaimed, as soon as they had sighted the inclined pole that signified the presence of the barrier where every vehicle had to halt and pay the regular tariff, according to the number of wheels, or of the horses it took to draw the load.
They had hung on to the defunct dog in spite of all their hurrying, for that plan to let the farmers of the community know they were rid of their greatest pest still clung to the boys' minds.
Bristles was looking ahead as they advanced along the road, and about this time was heard to give vent to an exclamation.
"Would you believe it?" he cried. "If there isn't the wagon at the toll-gate belonging to that old farmer I heard telling about the dogs that'd played havoc with his sheep! And I reckon now, he'll be right glad to see the leader of the pack laid out as we've got him!"
CHAPTER X
BRISTLES' SURPRISE PARTY
"That's a queer coincidence, if you'd care to call it by that name," remarked Colon, who liked once in a while to make use of some long word.
"It simply shows that we had long heads when we made up our minds to lug this old tramp dog all the way here, just to prove our story," Fred observed.
"That was your scheme, Fred, all right," Bristles quickly asserted.
"No more than the rest of you," he was instantly told, for Fred never liked to be given sole credit for anything unusual, when he had chums along. "All the same, I guess the old farmer will be tickled half to death to know the sheep-killing pack has been broken up for good."
"You think our knocking the leader out is going to do that, do you,
Fred?" asked Colon.
"In nine cases out of ten that's the way things go. There's a keystone to every arch, and when you remove that, the whole thing tumbles down."
"My idea to a dot," asserted Bristles, doggedly. "Chances are the rest of those curs have started on the run for their old homes before this; and unless another leader springs up, which isn't likely, we've seen the last of the sheep-killers. But hold on, fellows, perhaps we can have a little fun with the old farmer."
"How?" asked Colon, not at all unwilling.
"He doesn't seem to be about his wagon just now, you notice?" ventured
Bristles.
"Knows the toll-gate keeper right well," explained Colon, "because he's been coming past here, year in and year out, a long time now. Like as not he's stepped in to sit and talk, or else sample something wet. But I hope now, Bristles, you don't mean to start the team off on the run, or something like that, just to see an old man rush after 'em?"
"What d'ye take me for?" demanded the other, indignantly. "I leave all such mean tricks to Buck Lemington, Clem Shooks, Ben Cushing and that crowd. Here's where we might play an innocent little joke on the farmer, and he'll laugh as hard as we do when he catches on. It's the dog—-let's sneak up back of the wagon, and lift the thing in. Then you leave the rest to me."
Colon waited to hear what Fred said. He was accustomed to depending to some extent on the opinion of this chum, to whom the boys usually looked as their leader.
"I should think that was fair enough, Bristles," Fred quickly announced. "We're intending to give the farmer a pleasant little surprise party, that's all. Have it your way, then. Here, let's move around a little, so they won't sight us from the open door of the toll-gate house."
It was a very simple matter to do this, and presently they had deposited the already stiffening body of the sheep-destroying dog in the bed of the wagon, where it certainly presented a very gruesome appearance, with its four feet sticking up in the air.
This done, the boys walked around, and onto the little porch that was spread out before the door of the cottage.
Voices reached their ears, and it was evident that their presence had been discovered, for two men immediately came out. Bristles noticed that the old farmer was even then brushing the back of his hand across his lips, thus indicating that he had been sampling a glass of hard cider, a specialty of the toll-gate keeper.
"Hello! Mr. Jenks!" remarked Bristles, who, it seemed, knew the keeper. "We're up here to look over the ground for the big Marathon race that's coming off before long."
The farmer had started toward his team, but hearing this, he stopped to listen.
"I reckoned as much as soon as I see you boys in your running togs," the tollgate keeper went on to say, affably enough, "because there was a gent up here only yesterday that said he represented the committee, and that they expected to have what they called a registering station here at the toll-gate, though I don't just know what that really means."
"Why, you see, in a long gruelling run of twenty-five miles," explained Bristles, "it's necessary to have certain places a few miles apart, and especially at turns in the course, where every contestant enters his name in his own handwriting, as well as the time he passed there."
"You don't tell me!" exclaimed Mr. Jenks. "But what's all that tomfoolery for? Strikes me they go to a heap of trouble for next to nothing."
"Why, you see," continued Bristles, "these races have to be above suspicion. The committee doesn't want anybody to be able to say there was any crooked work about the run. The fellow who wins must have beaten every competitor fairly. And by this system of registering they have a complete record of the race. No one can cut across lots and cheat, without its showing in the record."
"Oh! now I understand you, my lad, and I guess it's a good thing. That gent was a fine one, and he said I had the best—-but never mind what he said. How far have you come this time, boys?"
"This is over half the distance," explained Fred, "and we're on the home stretch right now. But we're not trying for a record to-day. Fact is, we're just feeling out the ground. The next time we come we'll stop only a minute, as if we were registering, and be off, for that's when we'll be trying it out to see what our time is."
"Oh! excuse me," said Bristles, as he saw the old farmer once more turn toward his rig, as though he felt he must be going on, "but didn't I hear you telling someone in the market the other day that you'd lost a number of sheep lately?"
The old man frowned, and shook his head sadly.
"Three of my best, and I reckons that if things keep on the way they're goin', I won't have any flock left purty soon, boy," he replied.
"And you said the damage had all been done by a pack of wild dogs, didn't you?" continued Bristles.
"Anybody with one eye could see that, by the way the sheep was mangled, and the pad of the prints around. They're gettin' to be a terror up here. Jenks kin tell you how he's heard the lot carrying on like Cain over in the woods there nights."
"Did you ever see the pack, mister?" asked Bristles.
"Well, I can't say as I really and truly has, son, but I do believe I knows what the wust of the lot looks like," the farmer told him.
"How was that, sir?" asked the boy, eagerly. He saw the old man shrug his broad shoulders, while a whimsical look appeared on his sunburned face.
"Jest because I set on a limb, and looked down at the critter three whole hours, till he got so pizen hungry he slunk off, and let me get home. He come nigh ketchin' me afore I cud git up in a tree; and from the looks of them ugly fangs, chances are he'd a-tore me right bad."
"Then I should think you'd know that dog again if ever you saw him?" suggested Bristles, with a wink toward his chums.
"I hopes I'll never have the bad luck to see him alive again!" declared the old farmer, as he started to climb up to the seat of his wagon.
"Now watch the circus!" hissed Bristles.
The farmer had just about drawn himself up when they heard him give utterance to a startled exclamation, for he found himself facing the uninvited passenger in the back of his open wagon bed. Had Bristles been more inclined to be cruel, he might have fixed the dog so that he would appear lifelike, and in the attitude of springing.
The farmer remained there as though turned into stone. Then he managed to recover his wits, and burst out into a shout.
"It's the same pizen critter!" he exclaimed joyously, "and keeled over at last! But I'd like to know—-say, you don't meant to tell me now, boys, 'twas you that done for that turrible beast?"
"Well," said Bristles, trying hard not to look too important, "they tackled us in the woods, and it was either us or him, so we managed to pound the leader until he kicked the bucket, and the rest of the pack lit out. I guess that combine's broken up for good, mister. You won't lose any more of your sheep, believe me."
The old man got down, and insisted upon shaking hands all around, he felt so delighted over the new turn affairs had taken.
"And the next time I go to Riverport, I'll tell what a fine thing you boys did up here," he remarked, as the three runners prepared to start down the road, heading for the home town.
On the way it was finally decided that they would go to the office of the Chief of Police and tell him about finding the empty tin box, but not say a thing in connection with that pin. Afterwards, Fred said, they might see Mr. Periwinkle, So as to learn whether the tin box was really his property.
They felt uncertain as to just what their duty might be in a case like this, for while it seemed only right that the guilty one should suffer, at the same time both Fred and Bristles remembered what sorrowful faces that brother and sister had, and they could not find it in their hearts to do anything likely to add to the burdens the children already had to bear.
So the case rested as the days passed. Though unknown to the boys, a time was coming, and near at hand, when the mystery of the tin box was bound to be explained.
CHAPTER XI
ON THE GREEN CAMPUS
A group of merry boys and girls, after school hours, had gathered on the campus, and were chatting at a lively rate. This was a week after Fred and his two companions had gone over the course that previous Saturday, to judge of the difficulties they were likely to encounter when the great race came off.
Preparations had gone steadily on, and the time that must elapse before the Marathon was run could be measured in days. The greatest excitement reigned among the young people of Riverport, and it was said that both the neighboring towns were worked up to fever-heat on account of the prospective race.
Mechanicsburg welcomed another chance to even the score, which had too often been in favor of her closest rival, and even Paulding boasted that long distance running might be called her "best hold," since she had several lads who were apt to prove wonders at that game.
On the whole, such intense interest had never before been aroused in school circles in the three rival towns. Hundreds could hardly wait for the day to come when, in the presence of unequaled crowds, the question of supremacy would be decided once for all.
There was Flo Temple, a very pretty, attractive girl, whom Fred always took to dances, and skated with on the river; her chum Cissie Anderson, a little addicted to slang, though witty, and "fetching," as Sid Wells was heard to admit many a time, even when she had rubbed it into him pretty hard; and last, but not least, that energetic sister of Sid's, Mame Wells, a girl who could play almost any game that boys did, and fairly well at that.
The girls seemed to be having no end of fun about something or other, and the crowd laughed at their sallies. Even the victims themselves, took it goodnaturedly, knowing that it was all in good sport.
"The chosen few who are going to do the honors for Riverport in this wonderful race!" Cissie was saying, with a look of pretended concern on her pink and white face. "Don't we pity them, though, girls? They say they're at the training table now, and have to give up pies, and all sorts of other good things. Look at their faces, and see what a woebegone expression has settled there. Every time I glimpse at Sid and Fred, I have to think of a funeral, or a famine."
"Yes, it must be a dreadful thing to have to actually starve yourself, and all for the sake of getting in what they call condition," Mame Wells remarked. "Why, for the first time in all his life, Sid has to get up from the table before the dessert comes on. He says he just couldn't stand for it to stay, and see us all enjoying ourselves while he's shut out. Poor boy, I wish it was over for his sake."
"Why, they'll all be like walking skeletons if this keeps on much longer," Flo Temple, the doctor's daughter, broke in with. "I even told Fred he'd have to walk with a heavy cane, like an old man, before long, and I offered him one of father's, but he must have felt ashamed to take it, though I just know he wanted to."
"Oh! well," observed Corney Shay, slyly, "a heavy stick like that is a mighty nice thing to have along with you, when you're coming home awful late at night," and of course that caused a great laugh, as well as the blushes to flash up in the cheeks of pretty Flo.
"But don't any of you try to pity us, and think we're suffering for want of a decent meal," Fred told them. "Training table simply means that you've got to drop pastry, and all such silly things as that. We eat beefsteak and chops and eggs just as much as we want to, most vegetables, fish and fruits, and even plain cake. Why, it's the finest thing a boy can do, to try training for a month, and every fellow would be better off for doing it."
"Then the daily runs we take, and the other exercise in the bargain," added Sid, "is making our flesh as hard as nails. Just feel that muscle, will you?" and he flexed his arm as he held it out toward the gray-eyed Cissie, who of course, after duly feeling of it, gave Sid a sly pinch that made him jump.
Everybody knew that Fred and Flo were good chums, and were nearly always together. It was that very fact that had made Buck Lemington dislike Fred so much in the beginning. Buck had aspirations in that quarter himself, and there had been a time, before the other boy came to town, that he acted as escort to the doctor's pretty daughter, when they were all much younger than now.
"I hear that the course has all been laid out at last," remarked a small but lively high school boy, a cousin of Colon. He really had a first name, though most people seemed to have forgotten to say "Harrison," for everywhere he went by the appellation of Semi-Colon, as compared with the lengthy one.
"We were told the same thing," Flo ventured to say, "but twenty-five miles seems a terribly long way to run. My father is to examine every applicant, because they say it would be dangerous for any boy not in the best of condition to start out, and undergo the strain that a long race causes. So if any of you has a weak heart I'm sorry for you."
"Don't waste your pity on Fred, then, Flo," said Cissie, "because you ought to know his heart's all right. Besides, we've seen him put to the test, and feel sure he'll do good old Riverport High credit. So will they all. There isn't a girl in town but firmly believes the race is bound to come to our school," and she gave Sid an arch look that caused him to nod his head in delight.
"One thing sure," said Fred, gallantly, "every fellow is bound to make the greatest effort of his life, after learning how the Riverport girls have faith in him. I can speak for myself and Sid here, as well as Bradley Morton and Colon, who are absent. If we all fail to land the prize, it'll be because there are better long distance runners in the other towns, and not on account of our flunking."
"They say that to-morrow the four who have been selected to be Riverport entries expect to make the run from start to finish, just to get acquainted with the course, and time themselves; is that so, Fred?" asked Mame, who undoubtedly sincerely mourned the fact, as she had often done before, that she was a girl, and hence debarred from all these glorious times.
"Yes, we expect to do something like that, if the weather allows," Fred admitted, "but of course time isn't going to cut much of a figure in it with us. We'll leave all that to the big day, and content ourselves by getting familiar with the lay of the land, finding out all the bad places, and figuring how best to save a minute here or half of one there. That's what is going to count in the final reckoning, the chances are."
"Yes, and it stands for the Fred Fenton type of highest strategy," said Sid, who could praise a friend without feeling the slightest touch of envy. "Being prepared means a heap, in war or in sporting matters. That's one reason we're dieting right now, so as to put ourselves in the finest possible physical condition."
"And lots of people just think when there's a Marathon race like this," ventured little Semi-Colon, "that a pack of crazy boys just strip to their running togs and start pell mell across country without a particle of system whatever. It's all wrong, because every move is mapped out beforehand by the wise ones. They know just what they can do in the way of speed, and how much reserve they're holding back against the rush over the home stretch. That last is where the agony always comes in, 'specially if the race is a close one. Many a fellow's been known to just crawl under the tape, too weak to stand up, yet wild to win."
"Well, let's hope nothing like that happens in our Marathon," said Mame, with a solicitous look toward her handsome brother, of whom she was very fond.
"Oh! well," Sid hastened to explain, to allay her fears, "this is only a boys' run, you know; when regular athletes compete they set a faster pace than any of us can show; and then the distance is generally much further than twenty-five miles."
"Here comes Colon now," remarked Cissie, who often tormented the tall athlete with her witty remarks.
"He looks more mysterious than ever," remarked Mame Wells, "and I shouldn't be surprised now if Colon were hatching up some bright game for that glorious day of the long race. Not that he'd play any trick that wasn't honest, but you all know how he likes to pretend to be beaten until close to the end, and then fairly fly ahead of every competitor."
"Colon is going to make Riverport proud of him, you mark my words," said Fred, lowering his voice, for the object of their conversation was now close by, and covering ground at a tremendous pace with those long legs of his, which some of the boys had often compared to a pair of architect's dividers.
"Hello, everybody!" Colon called out, as he came up. Then, crooking his finger toward Fred, he went on to say, "Would you mind stepping aside, Fred, and giving me just a minute or two? Something important, or I wouldn't bother you."
Of course the group of boys and girls laughed, and called them a pair of conspirators, planning some sly game whereby victory might perch on the purple and gold banner of Riverport High.
"What's up, Colon?" asked Fred, as soon as they were beyond earshot of the noisy crowd, for he saw that the tall fellow looked quite serious indeed.
"Remember what we said about that Corny Ludson, don't you, Fred?"
"Why, yes, we concluded to let matters rest, and wait to see if anything new would turn up," replied the other, "but why do you say that, Colon?"
"Oh! because Corny's shown up in Riverport again, and it might mean he's got another sly robbery in view," Colon calmly remarked.