As Harry dashed across the line, victor, pandemonium broke loose among the scholars; and when they overtook him he was given an ovation that entirely drove from his mind the unpleasant incidents of the morning and early afternoon.
Foremost in congratulations was Viola, and after his friends had thanked him for upholding the honor of Rivertown, and wresting the victory of the annual race from their old time Springtown rivals, Harry and Viola started down the river together.
They had covered about half the distance, when Elmer and Pud put in their appearance. Disagreeable, indeed, were the comments which the rich boy made when he saw the one member of the Rivertown High School he most detested skating with the girl he liked the best.
In vain Viola pretended not to hear the remarks passed by the bully and his companion, but they brought a flush of anger to her cheeks, and noting it, Harry let go her hands.
“If you’re tired, Miss Darrow, suppose we wait till the others come up. Then you can skate away with your friends,” suggested Harry.
A moment the girl looked at him: “I’m not in the least tired, Mr. Watson!” she exclaimed; “and I don’t mind what those two boys are saying, if you don’t.”
“But I do,” returned Harry, “on your account. For that reason I think it’s best that you join your friends.”
“But you’re my friend, aren’t you?”
“I hope so, that is, I should like to be.”
“Well, I certainly consider you so,” returned the girl, and again taking hold of hands, they skated away, laughing and chatting merrily; and continued to skate together till it was time for them to go to their homes to supper.
Light of heart to think he had been cleared of the charges of depredations in the physical laboratory, and successful in defeating the skaters from Springtown, Harry was in a happy frame of mind as he mounted the steps of his aunt’s house, and went in to supper. But one sight of his aunt’s face drove all his joy away.
“What is it, Aunt Mary? Have you heard about the trouble at the school? Don’t worry, because there’s nothing in it.”
The thought that her nephew had been concerned in some difficulty of which she was ignorant struck still further grievance to the woman.
“No, I haven’t heard about it. What is it, tell me?”
“Oh, it doesn’t amount to much. Merely that some apparatus was broken in the physical laboratory and they thought that I did it.”
So distressed was the woman that, unmindful of how the words would sound, and the impression they would convey, she asked in a tone that was harsher than she would have used if she had been entirely herself.
“You didn’t do it, did you?”
In surprise, Harry looked at her for several moments.
“No, indeed,” he finally replied.
“Thank goodness. We have trouble enough without that.”
Never before had the boy seen his aunt so upset, and her asperity was all the more striking because of her usual kindly humor.
“What’s the trouble? Tell me, Aunt Mary, please?” he finally asked.
“It’s bad news, Harry.”
Instantly the boy became as solemn and serious as his aunt. His face grew white and the lines about his mouth grew deep.
“You mean you’ve had bad news from father?”
“Poor dad! I guess I’d better give up school and go back to Lawrenceburgh,” announced the boy. “If Elmer and Pud ever hear about it, they’ll make my life unbearable; and besides, it isn’t right for me to be such a drain on father.”
“You won’t be a drain on him. You mustn’t look at it that way!” exclaimed his aunt. “You know you are just as dear to me as though you were my own son, and I want you to stay with me now.”
“But somebody ought to go down to Lawrenceburgh. It can’t be true. There’s something wrong somewhere.”
“Somebody is going down to Lawrenceburgh!” announced a shrill voice.
And looking up, Mrs. Watson and her nephew beheld the kindly face of old Jed Brown, whose usual happy smile had given way to an expression of solemnity.
“What do you mean?” asked Mrs. Watson.
“That I’m going down to Lawrenceburgh for a few days. I’ve been wanting to go for a long time. Just been looking for an excuse and now I’ve got it. I’ve known Amos since he was a kid in knickerbockers, and I know there isn’t a mean or crooked hair in his head. It’s all a mistake—and and I’m going to set it right.”
“Oh, Mr. Brown! If you only could!” exclaimed the widow, as the old veteran ceased speaking.
“And I can. Don’t worry,” he returned. “It may take some time, but I shall find out who’s at the bottom of it, and even if Jed Brown is a cripple and poor, he is honest, and he can fight just as in the days when he followed the flag through the campaign in the Wilderness.”
So deeply moved were the aunt and nephew, they dared not speak in the fear that they would be unable to control their voices, and they expressed their appreciation of the old veteran’s words by shaking his hand cordially.
Sad, indeed, was the little household during the rest of the day, and as soon as Harry could find an excuse he went to his room and to bed, where, after forming various plans for the undoing of his father’s enemies, he finally dropped asleep.
“Now you must try to forget that things are not as they always were,” whispered his aunt in the boy’s ear as he started for school the next morning. “Just appear your usual self, and do not let any of your friends know that you are not happy.”
“It isn’t my friends I’m afraid of; it’s the fellows who don’t like me,” returned Harry.
“All the more reason why you should keep a stiff upper lip,” declared Mrs. Watson. And, promising to do his best, the boy set out for the bluff on which the Rivertown High School was, situated.
But it seemed as though Fate had conspired against Harry!
As he entered the main hallway, Elmer stepped up, having evidently been on the lookout for him.
“See here, Watson, I saw you skating with Viola Darrow yesterday afternoon!” he exclaimed.
“Well, what of it?”
“Just this much—don’t do it again!”
“Why not, pray?”
“Because I tell you not to, that’s all!”
“Well, you’ve got to give me some better reason than that, Elmer Craven,” flashed the sorely troubled boy. “If Miss Darrow is willing that I should skate with her, I don’t see that it is your business or anyone else’s, as far as that is concerned.”
“You’ll find it is, though. I tell you, you’ve got to stop going with her! You remember the laboratory business? Well, it will be just as easy to put a stop to your going with Viola as it was to frame that up on you. So just take my advice and leave her alone!”
So vicious did the rich boy’s face become as he uttered his threat that Harry could scarcely believe he was talking with a fellow member of Rivertown High. For the moment, he thought of resenting the boy’s words with his fists; but the sound of footsteps and the voice of the principal, from behind, caused him to abandon the idea.
“Well, are you going to take my advice?” demanded his enemy, sullenly.
“I’m going to do just as I please, Elmer Craven. Neither you nor anyone else can stop me!” retorted Harry. And turning on his heel, he stalked away to his classroom.
But though he had maintained a defiant manner, at heart he was sick. Coming as it did on top of the news from his father, the thought that he would now be obliged to guard himself against underhand attacks from his rival, with whom he had held many angry words, made him deeply anxious, and again the idea which had come to him on the previous night when his aunt had made her announcement,—that he should leave school,—recurred to him.
A happy nod and smile from Viola, who chanced to be passing through the hall on her way to one of her recitations, however, decided the day for Harry.
“I’ll not let Elmer Craven make me give up my friendship for Viola!” he told himself. And with this resolve, he proceeded to his various duties.
Having no recitations after the noon recess, Paul suggested that Jerry, Harry and he should take a sail on his new iceboat Lightning, which had just been delivered to him.
Glad of any diversion that would take his mind from his troubles, Harry readily accepted and the boys went to their several homes for dinner.
Angry that he had failed to scare his rival, Elmer had brooded all the morning over some means of making good his threat, and at last, unable to think of any scheme that would be both adequate and feasible, he dropped into the village butcher shop to consult his friend, Pud.
To his amazement, he found the bully laughing and in high spirits, in striking contrast to the surly gloom he had maintained since the eventful day in Lumberport.
“What’s making you feel so gay?” demanded Elmer.
“The fact that I’ve got Harry Watson now just where I want him!”
His eyes big with incredulity, the richest boy in Rivertown stared at the bully.
“What on earth do you mean?” he finally asked, when he found that Pud made no move to explain his statement.
“Just this!” returned the bully. And he tapped a newspaper which was spread out over one of the chopping blocks.
“But I don’t understand?” persisted Elmer.
“Then listen to this!” and Pud read the following:
“‘Amos Watson’s appeal was denied by the court and he will now be compelled to serve five years in prison to which he was sentenced for forgery.’”
“Well?” exclaimed Elmer, still mystified.
“What’s the matter with you? Have you suddenly lost your senses?” stormed the bully.
“But I don’t see what that has to do with that young cur.”
“You don’t, eh? Well, it has just this to do with it—Amos Watson is Harry’s father!”
For several minutes the rich boy stood silent, as though endeavoring to grasp the magnitude of the news which had come to him—and then, with a sudden cry of delight, he struck Pud a resounding whack on the back.
“That’s great—provided it’s true!” he exclaimed.
“True? Of course it’s true. Isn’t it in the paper?”
“Yes, but where did you get the paper?” demanded Elmer, picking it up and looking at the name and date line.
“Uncle Briscoe always sends it up from Lawrenceburgh to my mother. She used to live down there, you know.”
“No, I didn’t, but the paper seems straight enough, so I suppose it’s all right.”
“You bet it’s all right. And now come on, we’ll spread the news—and if Harry Watson doesn’t wish before night he’d never been born, I’ll miss my guess!”
And together the two boys who hated Harry so bitterly set out to scatter the news of his father’s misfortune broadcast.
Good care did the two boys who were bent on the downfall of our hero take to tell the story of Harry’s father being a forger only to those who were not particularly friendly to the lad—with the result that it found ready credence, and was soon being repeated with all manner of exaggerations.
“I don’t believe a word of it!” declared Viola, when the report reached her. “Harry Watson is a splendid chap. I——”
“But this isn’t Harry, it’s his father whose appeal from a prison sentence has been refused,” laughed a girl who had told the malicious tale.
“It makes no difference, I don’t believe Harry’s father is a man who would stoop to any such act!” retorted Viola, hotly. And, putting her arm through Nettie’s, the richest girl in Rivertown High went off with her chum—for the story had hurt her more than she cared to have her schoolmates see.
Though in high spirits at the amazement their announcement caused among their schoolmates, Elmer and Pud were disappointed that the boy whose father they were traducing did not put in an appearance.
“Where do you suppose he is?” asked Socker, after they had discovered Harry’s absence.
“Probably afraid to show his head,” commented Misery. “I don’t think I’d care to exhibit myself to my school-fellows under such conditions.”
“But Jerry and Paul aren’t here, either,” asserted another boy.
“The three of them are off together somewhere, I suppose,” suggested Pud.
“Or else they’re waiting until school begins, to sneak in,” commented Elmer.
But in ignorance of all the cruel things that were being said about him, Harry was at the river with his chums, busily helping Paul rig up his iceboat.
Being new, there was no end of fussing and readjusting to be done before the Lightning was ready for her initial spin; and the three lads were in the act of making a final test of her ropes, when a crowd of the boys and girls rushed down to the river for their daily frolic on the ice after school—and among them were Elmer and Pud.
“Who’s iceboat is that?” demanded the bully, as he caught sight of the rangy looking craft, some half mile up the river.
“Must belong to some one from Lumberport or Cardell,” returned Elmer. “It’s a new one, that’s easy to see. Let’s skate out and look her over. If she’s any good, I’ll rig up the Glider and we’ll have some races.”
Readily the other boys agreed to the suggestion, and as soon as they had adjusted their skates, they dashed out over the smooth, clear ice.
Not far had they gone, however, before Pud let out a whoop of glee.
“That’s Paul Martin; and he’s got Jerry and Watson with him!” he shouted. “Come on, we’ll have some fun with the forger’s son!”
The evident viciousness of the bully did not meet with the approval of some of the fellows, however, and they were not slow to let Snooks know it. But the thought that he had a lever with which to make his enemy unhappy made him impervious to any comments of his schoolmates.
Ere the boys had covered more than half the distance which separated them from the iceboat they saw that unless something were done instantly to delay the start, they would arrive too late, for Paul and his companions were stretching themselves along the runners, preparatory to getting under way.
“Hey there! Wait a minute!” yelled Elmer, putting his hands to his lips that he might make a funnel that would carry the sound farther.
Surprised at the hail, the three boys rolled from the iceboat, looking expectantly at the fellows hastening toward them.
“What’s wanted?” shouted Paul, as the others came within easy speaking distance.
“I just wanted to tell you that the fellow you’re chumming with and going to take on your boat is the son of a prison-bird!” exclaimed Elmer. “I thought you ought to know it.”
As he heard the brutal statement, Harry’s face grew deathly pale, and he clutched one of the guide ropes with his hand as though to keep himself from falling, while Paul and Jerry looked from his accuser to him, bewildered.
“Wha—what do you mean?” finally stammered Paul. “Who’s the son of a prison-bird?”
“Harry Watson!” chorused Elmer and Pud.
“That’s not true!” cried Harry, in a quavering voice.
“It is! My mother received a paper from Lawrenceburgh this morning, and it says that Amos Watson is going to prison for five years for forgery!” announced the bully, gloatingly.
“And Amos Watson is your father, isn’t he?” demanded Elmer of Harry.
“Yes. But there has been some dirty work somewhere. My father is as innocent of the charge as you are, Elmer Craven!”
“Evidently the judge didn’t think so—or he wouldn’t have refused his appeal,” sneered the rich tormentor. “Before you get chummy with any more fellows, I advise you to make sure who they are, Paul. And you remember it was you who introduced this son of a prison-bird to Viola.”
At the mention of the girl’s name, Harry seemed suddenly to galvanize into action.
“You leave Miss Darrow’s name out of this, Elmer Craven!” he cried, hotly.
“Oh, is that so? Well, I reckon it will take more than a forger’s son to tell me what I shall do and what I shall not. Paul, you’ve either got to apologize to Viola for introducing this chap to her—or——”
“Or what?” demanded Harry, fairly leaping on his skates toward the boy who had been baiting him until he had goaded him beyond endurance.
Something there was in the tormented boy’s eyes that alarmed his rich enemy, and the fellow gave ground, working himself toward the spot where Pud Snooks was standing, as though seeking the protection of the bully.
Harry, however, was too quick for him and, with a sudden turn cut off Elmer’s attempt, forcing the boy to face him.
“Or what?” he demanded a second time.
Finding escape impossible, the rich fellow glared into the white, tense face before him.
“Or he’ll have to settle with me!” Elmer finished, but his voice was so low that it carried none of its former bravado.
“You’re wrong there, Craven. He’ll be obliged to settle with me if he does apologize. I may not be as rich as you, nor my father as yours, but we’re just as honest!”
“That doesn’t seem to be what the judge thought!” repeated Elmer. “I——”
But the limit of insult that Harry could endure had been reached.
After the repetition of the remark about the opinion of the jurist who had denied Mr. Watson’s appeal, the boy had drawn back his right arm—and the next moment, his tormentor lay stretched on the ice!
“Coward! Why don’t you take a fellow of your size!” cried Pud, skating toward Harry.
“Why don’t you?” demanded Paul and Jerry, throwing themselves between the hulking bully who overtopped their chum by three or four inches.
“What are you doing in this? Get out of my way!” snarled Snooks.
But the two boys refused to budge and, realizing that he would not be a match for the pair of them, the bully skated away, growling to himself.
In the meantime, Elmer had gotten to his feet.
“I’ll fix you for this, you see if I don’t!” he snarled with a look of fierce hatred at the boy who had knocked him down.
“I wouldn’t, if I were you, Elmer. You only got what you deserved!” returned Paul. “Come on, Harry, if we’re going to have our sail on the Lightning, we’ve got to hurry.”
“Much obliged—but I don’t think I’ll go this afternoon,” exclaimed our hero; and despite the protests of his chums, he skated to the shore and then for home.
On his way to his aunt’s house, Harry met Jed Brown, hobbling along, a valise in his hand.
One look at the boy’s white face told the veteran that some new trouble had come to him, and he solicitously inquired its cause.
Harry, however, was not disposed to share his grief with anyone.
“Going away?” he asked, warding off the question.
“Yes, down to my sister’s at Lawrenceburgh. You know I told you and Mrs. Watson the other night that I was going down—and this afternoon we were talking it over and decided that if I was to do any good, I ought to start without delay.”
For a moment Harry was silent as he strove to master himself sufficiently to speak about his father’s dilemma.
“I—I hope you’ll be able to find out something, Jed,” he said, but his voice quavered pitifully and as he heard it, a light of understanding broke over the aged cripple.
“Have the boys found out about the business?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Pud Snooks saw the announcement of the court in a paper that is sent to his mother from Lawrenceburgh.”
At the mention of the source of the information, the veteran’s brow clouded.
“That Snooks had better watch out!” he snapped. “I—” then he evidently thought better of his intention to say anything further concerning the bully; and taking Harry’s hand, he exclaimed: “Just keep good courage in your heart, boy. Things will come out all right. Go about your study and play exactly as though nothing had happened. I’ll let you hear from me in a few days. And now I must go or I shall miss my train.”
And giving the boy’s hand another hearty shake, the crippled veteran started again on his way to the railroad station.
Not more than a few steps had he taken, however, then he felt a hand on his valise, and turning quickly, in the fear that it might be some of the boys who delighted to play tricks on him, he had a snarl on his lips, when he saw that it was Harry.
“I’ll go down to the station with you, Mr. Brown,” he announced. “Just let me take your valise.”
Glad of the assistance, for he had found his bag heavier than he thought, the veteran held the conversation to cheerful topics, and not again was the unfortunate matter, so close to the hearts of both, mentioned. And waiting until the train departed, Harry took his way home.
But he was not as bereft of friends as he had thought.
No sooner had he taken his departure from the river than the boys who had gathered about the iceboat took up the discussion of the affair.
“Well, even if Mr. Watson does go to jail, that doesn’t mean we should throw Harry down!” announced Paul, resolutely.
Quickly several of the other boys reiterated this opinion, but more of them sided with Elmer and Pud.
“You can associate with him if you want to—but I don’t think your father will let you,” sneered the rich lad.
“I know mine won’t,” declared the bully. But instead of his words making the impression he had intended, they drew a burst of laughter from Paul and Jerry.
“What do you find so funny about that?” demanded Pud, angrily.
“That your father should forbid your associating with anyone,” returned Paul.
“Say, do you think I ain’t as good as the Martins or the Posts or any people in Rivertown?”
“I’m not saying anything about that. It merely struck me that a fellow who was only saved from serious trouble by the kindheartedness of an old man whom he had tormented in every way possible ought not to make too many comments about other people,” exclaimed Paul, coolly, but uttering each word with deliberation.
Instantly the boys realized that Paul had referred to the incident of the fire which burned Jed Brown’s home, and they awaited the effect upon the bully with eagerness. But it was not what they expected.
For a moment, Pud looked into the eyes of the boy who had taken up the cudgels for his absent chum; then lowered his own, growled something that none of his auditors could understand, and skated away.
“Now you go, too, Craven,” advised Jerry. “If I were you, I’d hire Pud to go round with me—or else stop talking about Harry Watson.”
“What do you mean?” demanded the rich student.
“Didn’t I make myself plain enough? I said for you to stop talking about Harry Watson.”
“Huh, I’d like to see anyone stop me.”
“Well, you will, if you don’t watch out.”
At the words, Craven skated away from Jerry, evidently mindful of the blow he had received from Harry; and with one accord, the excited crowd of boys broke into small groups whose sole topic of conversation was the news from Lawrenceburgh.
Among the townsfolk as well as the scholars, the story spread, and in due time Mr. Larmore and all the teachers heard of it.
“I don’t belief it!” announced Prof. Schmidt, emphatically, when it was told him at supper. And when he had finished the meal, the kindly old German put on his fur coat and cap and went round to call on Mrs. Watson.
The coming of the professor was distinctly embarrassing to both the good woman and her nephew. But he soon put them at their ease by announcing that he hoped Harry would not let the matter keep him from school.
“That’s just what we were talking about when you came, Professor,” declared Mrs. Watson.
A ring at the door-bell interrupted her and when Harry answered it and admitted the principal of the Rivertown High School, she became even more confused.
Mr. Larmore, however, quickly made it evident that he had come for the same purpose as had the genial old German; and after much talking, Mrs. Watson finally agreed that her nephew should continue his studies.
But it was a quiet and sober Harry who entered his classroom the next morning.
His friends strove to convey their sympathy and belief in him by cordial nods. But their kindness was more than offset by the sneers and grunts with which his enemies greeted him. So keenly did the boy feel them that he made his laboratory work an excuse for not joining his companions during the recesses.
What hurt him most, however, was Viola’s attitude. Though she had smiled at him when he had entered the classroom, when he had tried to speak to her she had skilfully prevented it by moving away when she saw him approaching. And deeply did her action cut Harry, so that he vowed to himself he would not give her another opportunity to cause him pain.
For some time things drifted along, and Harry continued to be the storm center of the school world. Some of his fellows shunned him, and others tried to establish themselves on even a more friendly footing with him than at first. But Harry’s attitude was neutral, his only decided stand being to refuse to appear in the Pi Eta society room, though his friends endeavored in every way to persuade him.
During that time old Jed Brown did not return to Rivertown, nor did our hero hear from the old veteran. Harry’s aunt heard from Mr. Watson, but the news was not encouraging.
“They still consider your father guilty,” said the aunt to the youth. “But we know he is innocent, and some day the world will know it, too.”
“Perhaps,” said Harry, sadly. “But, oh, Aunt Mary, to have him in prison! It is awful! I can’t bear to think of it!”
“Good morning, Mrs. Watson; is Harry at home?”
Saturday had come, with clear skies, and a cold, crisp air that gave promise of a fine day’s sport on the ice for Rivertown’s young people. It was Paul Martin who had knocked at the door of the widow’s house, and greeted her with his cheery smile when she admitted him.
“Good morning, Paul!” replied the good woman, the look of distress on her face giving way for a moment to one of pleasure at seeing this loyal friend of her nephew. “Yes, he is in his den, busy with something. The poor boy seldom goes out these days; and I’m afraid the constant grieving will tell on his health.”
“That is just why I’ve come around, ma’am, to try and influence Harry to take a spin with me on my iceboat,” Paul continued, eagerly. “You see, we were just going to have a run before, when Pud Snooks interrupted us with that unpleasant bit of news; and Harry backed out. We lost all interest in the sport soon afterward, and I’ve really had little heart for it since.”
“It was good of you to think of your friend in this way, Paul,” the widow said, laying a hand on the lad’s shoulder, and looking affectionately into his manly face. “And depend on it, Harry is worthy of all your regard. I know something about boys, even though I was never blessed with one myself; and if ever there lived a clean, brave and loyal fellow, Harry is one. And Paul, he must go off with you to get some fresh air. This staying in, and thinking of all his troubles, is not the best thing for even his strong nature.”
“Then please back me up,” said Paul, “in case he tries to beg off. I’m going to insist; and I think I know how to reach Harry’s weak spot. I’ll give him to understand that if he refuses, it’s going to spoil all my Saturday morning sport. Harry will make sacrifices for a chum that he would never think of doing for himself. And now I’ll push in on him, if you don’t mind.”
As he opened the door of Harry’s little den, where the boy did his studying, and kept such traps as boys usually accumulate, he found the object of his solicitude bending over a table, and deep in some book.
“Hello! here, old book-worm, this is no morning to bury yourself here indoors like a hermit!” cried Paul, as he burst in on his chum like a breath of the crisp winter air.
Harry looked up, and his face was immediately wreathed in a smile. The very presence of such a fine, healthy fellow like Paul was enough in itself to chase away the blues. He sprang to his feet, and grasped the hand that was thrust out toward him, wringing it with boyish ardor. For deep down in his heart he knew full well that Paul was almost as much concerned over the trouble that had of late befallen him, as he could be himself.
“Glad to see you, Paul!” he exclaimed. “Yes, it does look like a great day for a Saturday; and I guess lots of fellows will be glad. The ice must be fine after that little thaw, and hard freeze. I haven’t been down to the river you know, of late. I just seem to feel that I ought to keep away from my friends, and save them from embarrassment.”
If there was a trace of bitterness in Harry’s voice, Paul did not notice it. He did catch the tremor though, that told of a sore heart; and impulsively he again squeezed the hand of his chum.
“That’s just what brought me here right now,” he observed, seriously. “You must get out more, Harry. You know yourself that all this brooding over your affairs isn’t going to do you a bit of good. Things are going to come out all right yet; but it may take some time. Meanwhile it’s foolish of you to shun your best friends, and keep indoors. I’ve come to carry you off to the river with me, d’ye hear?”
Harry sighed, and cast a look of sincere affection on this staunch friend. They had been utter strangers only a few months back; and yet so strong had the ties become that bound them together, that he fancied he cared as much for Paul as he could have done for a brother.
“Thank you, Paul,” he said, slowly. “I’d like to go first-rate; but I’ve made up my mind to keep clear of all the high school young people until this mystery is solved, and I can look them in the face without a blush. Understand, I have the utmost faith in my father; and I know he must be innocent of the charge brought against him; but so far old Jed has not sent any cheering word; and I must wait.”
“But I say again, that’s no reason for you to keep on hurting your health,” Paul insisted. “Even your Aunt Mary is getting anxious about you; and Harry, she’s been so good to you, don’t you think it is a little cruel to add to her burden in any way?”
Harry sighed again, and looked undecided.
“Yes, Aunt Mary is as good as gold,” he observed. “And I certainly wouldn’t want to cause her any unnecessary pain; but Paul, somehow I haven’t the heart to do the things I used to. I feel a terrible weight in here,”—putting his hand on his chest as he spoke—“that hurts. In my present condition I’d only be a drawback to any crowd of merry boys and girls; and so I stay away.”
Perhaps Paul could understand more than Harry gave him credit for. Perhaps he guessed that it was partly the coolness of one particular girl that helped give his chum this heavy feeling in the region of his heart. For he knew how much Harry had come to care for Viola; and it was difficult for him to understand just why she should take up again with Elmer Craven, whom she had once cut dead.
“All right,” he said cheerily; “for once, then, you’ve just got to put that idea out of your head, and come along with me, Harry. Your aunt says you must, and insists that I carry you off to get a few hours of bracing air. And yet, if you’d rather stay here in your den to being in my company, why——”
“Oh! you know better than that, Paul!” cried the other lad eagerly, as he looked into the face of his friend. “I’ve enjoyed many happy hours in your company; and if it wasn’t for this unfortunate business——”
“That’s enough, Harry,” and Paul in turn broke in on what the forlorn boy was trying to say in a trembling voice; “you’ve just got to come along now, or else all my plans for the morning will be broken up. I’d arranged for the two of us, no others, mind, to take my new iceboat, Lightning, and have a great spin far up the river. The ice couldn’t be beat; and I’m determined that it’s just got to be you with me, or no one. That’s flat. Now, what do you say?”
Harry smiled with pleasure. It was almost worth suffering all that he had endured in these last few unhappy days, just to learn what a true friend meant.
“Well, you put it up to me in a way that knocks out all my argument,” he said.
“Then you’ll come with me?” demanded Paul, eagerly.
“Sure I will, and mighty glad of the chance,” Harry replied, as he started to look for his cap, and his warm sweater to go under his coat; for he knew that a long ride on an iceboat, going a mile a minute more than likely, meant chilled bodies, unless care was taken to supply warm clothing.
Once he had decided on his course, Harry seemed somewhat like his old self. Mrs. Watson, as they passed through the outer room, smiled, and nodded to Paul.
“I’m glad to see you managed to coax him to go, Paul,” she remarked; and both lads waved her good-bye as they left the door, walking briskly down the street of Rivertown.
Paul’s father had a boat-house on the bank of the river just outside the town limits, where in Summer the boys often gathered in order to enjoy the sports of the season. There was a new shed attached to this, in which Paul kept the iceboat he had had built recently, but which had as yet hardly been tried out.
In a short time the two lads were busily engaged getting the frail craft out of its quarters, and down on the ice. The mast had to be stepped every time Paul wished to make use of the flier; since the shed was too low to admit of its being stored as it stood. But this proved a job of small moment.
“I guess you know a heap about these kind of boats, Harry?” remarked the owner of the Lightning, as he watched the deft manner in which his new chum handled the various ropes connected with the up-to-date craft built for ice use.
At that Harry laughed, the first little burst of merriment that had escaped his lips for days; and which made his friend feel that he had done well to coax the grieving lad outdoors, where he could get the invigorating influence of the ozone to be found in the crisp wintry air.
“Oh! yes, I suppose I might say I have, without seeming to boast,” he answered, as he bent down to make sure that everything was adjusted, and the wire stay that held the mast in place as taut as the turnbuckle could make it. “We used to have a boat down at Lawrenceburgh, and somehow they got to making me the skipper; last winter we won every race we entered for. But Paul, that boat wasn’t in the same class as this new one you’ve got, I tell you that.”
“Then you think the Lightning is apt to go some?” inquired the owner, eagerly.
“Do I?” echoed Harry, quickly. “Unless I’m away off in my judgment, she’s bound to beat everything along the river. I never saw such fine lines; and best of all, I don’t think the builder has sacrificed anything in the way of staunchness to speed. Mark my word, Paul, she’s going to turn out a crackerjack!”
“I’m mighty glad to hear that, Harry!” declared Paul, “for a good many reasons. A fellow likes to have a clipper boat, you know, one that isn’t going to take dust from any other chap’s racer. And then, it would just give me heaps of fun if I could leave the old Glider far back in the lurch.”
“That’s Elmer’s iceboat, isn’t it?” asked Harry.
“Sure. He hasn’t had it out this winter, I understand, because for two years now it’s just run away from everything there was; and Elmer said he was tired of making circles around the rest of us. But three times now he’s asked me when I expected to get my new boat running; and as much as told me he was waiting to add it to the has-beens he’s beaten.”
“Well, don’t you believe he’s going to have an easy job walking away from this dandy thing on runners,” Harry observed. “I’m ready to say that you’ve got the very last word in iceboats here in the Lightning. And before another hour has passed you’ll feel that you made no mistake when you gave her that name. Now, if you’re ready, let’s make a start.”
Harry was anxious to be off. He had noticed that several boys and girls were heading toward them, having skated up from below. And in his present state of mind he would rather avoid meeting any of his school companions if it could be arranged.
“How about the wind?” asked Paul, as they started to take their places on the thin but strong planks of the iceboat, which had been padded with folded blankets, so as to make it more comfortable for those who had to stretch out at full length while managing the running craft.
“It seems to be everything we could want this morning,” Harry replied. “In fact, I don’t think there ever was a day here on the Conoque River better fitted for a try-out of a new iceboat than this same Saturday morning. And I’m glad now that I came with you, Paul.”
“Bully for you, Harry! That’s all I wanted to hear. And now, let’s cut loose before all those fellows get in our way.”
Longback, Socker Gales, and Misery Jones were among those coming full tilt for the spot where they had discovered the new boat on the river’s edge.
They gave vent to various whoops and cries when they saw that Paul and Harry were starting off without waiting for their arrival.
“Hi! aint you goin’ to let us have a look-in at the new boat, before you smash her with that Jonah aboard?”
“Listen, Paul! Just you keep right on up the river, and my word for it you’ll get yours before you come back!”
“Wow! look at her go, would you? Say, fellers, she’s all to the mustard, you c’n tell me what you please about the Glider. Paul knew what he was doing when he gave the order for that dandy contraption. Gee! don’t I wish I was on her right now!”
These last words just barely reached the ears of the two who lay flattened out on the delicate flooring of the ice yacht. Harry heard his chum chuckling, as if somehow the last remark had given him a good feeling.
The skaters started after them, but were speedily left far behind, and presently gave the chase up as useless. And now the whole river lay before the two iceboat chums, with not a single person to interfere with their sport; since it was as a rule farming country above Rivertown, on both sides of the watercourse.
Few rivers offered better fields for this sport than the Conoque. While not of any great depth, it was as a rule quite wide; and in places presented a magnificent spread of smooth, clear ice, over which the sharp runners glided like magic, as the favoring breeze filled their sail, and urged them on at tremendous speed.
Then again, once in a while they would come to a neck where the going was quite different, since the ice was rougher, and they had to look out for airholes. In the Summer season, when the water was lower, these places were called the “rips”; being in reality small rapids, where the water rushed with noisy volume, and the fishing was considered prime.
“Well, what d’ye think of that?” called out Paul, after they had been booming along in this manner for a little while, passing a couple of the narrow places, where considerable care had to be exercised to avoid trouble.
“Splendid! Never went like this before! You’ve got a wonder here, Paul, and don’t you forget it,” answered Harry, whose face was now rosy with the action of the keen wind and the cold air; while his eyes sparkled much as they had been wont to do before this trouble came upon him, to crush his young spirits so completely.
“That pleases me a whole lot, Harry,” laughed the owner of the craft. “And say, I’ve been watching the way you handle that tiller. Elmer Craven boasts of being the best iceboat sailor on the river; but I’m ready to put you up against him any old day. Why, you manage things so that she seems to be next door to human. No matter what sort of wind strikes us, you’ve got a way of setting her with it, that just suits every time. If this boat’s a wonder, Harry, you’re the fellow that can get every ounce of speed out of her.”
“Here, that will do for you, Paul,” answered Harry; though naturally the words of genuine praise made him feel happy, as he had been up against so many hard knocks lately, at the hands of those who bore him so much ill will. “I’d just like to try her against some other boat of the same class. That’s the only way to get a pointer on her speed and cleverness, you know.”
“Perhaps we may, and this very morning,” remarked Paul, mysteriously, but with a grin accompanying the words.
“What makes you say that?” demanded his companion, who had to keep his eyes on the alert pretty much all the time, since a flaw of wind might swoop down on them at any second, and if he failed to be quick with the rudder, in order to ease up on the sudden strain, an upset was likely to follow.
“Didn’t you hear what Misery Jones shouted after us?” Paul went on, answering one question, Yankee fashion, by asking another.
“Was it Misery who called out for you to listen; and then said something about you ‘getting yours’ if you kept on up the river?” Harry continued.
“Sure, that was Misery. He’s never so happy as when acting as a prophet, and predicting all sorts of trouble ahead for other people. That’s why the boys call him Misery; he sees all kinds of accidents looming up, even if they hardly ever come along. But Harry, I don’t think the fellow had any accident in store for us that time, when he said I would get mine up here to-day.”
“Then what did he have in mind?” asked Harry, his curiosity aroused.
“I’ve been thinking it over,” Paul went on, “and decided that Misery must know Elmer is out this morning with his Glider; and somewhere up-river way. What he meant was that if we happened to run across his hawser, I would find my new iceboat as badly left in the lurch as my old one was last year.”
“Perhaps,” laughed the one who handled the tiller so dexterously; “all things are possible, you know, Paul; but I wouldn’t worry over that, if I were you. Just let Elmer show up, and we’ll see what the Lightning was built for.”
“There’s a bunch of fellows coming down the river,” said Paul, a minute later. “They live some miles up at a village called Rushville. Several of our high school scholars come down from there every day on the train, you know. I was going to say that if we could shut off some of our tremendous speed, and draw in closer to them, I might find out whether Elmer really did go up-river.”
“All right,” responded Harry, readily; “that’s easy enough done.”
He manipulated the tiller, and watched the way the wind spilled out of the big sail as he ran partly across the ice field, heading so as to intercept the skaters. These boys, seeing that those on the fine new iceboat wished to speak with them, only too gladly came to a standstill, and watched the clever way in which Harry managed to bring his craft up in the teeth of the wind close beside them.
“Hello! Paul, that your new boat?” cried one of the up-river fellows, as he advanced to get a closer look at the now still Lightning. “Well, I must say she’s got lines to go some, and then not half try. Give you my word I never saw such a trim and dandy iceboat; and I wish I had a chance to take a spin on her with you.”
“Perhaps you may, some of these fine days, Hank,” remarked Paul with a grin; for he had always been friendly with the Rushville student at school. “Just now we’re out on the warpath, looking for scalps, you see, and want to be on the fly.”
The three boys looked at each other as though hardly catching the true meaning of what Paul said. But a moment later Hank laughed aloud as the significance of the words appealed to him.
“Ho! I get it all right now, Paul!” he exclaimed, nodding his head while speaking. “You want to find something to whack your new boat up against, eh? Well, what’s the matter with the Glider? Elmer didn’t do a thing to you last winter, if I remember right; and the spirit of revenge must be rankling in your heart. Is that it?”
“Perhaps a little that way,” answered Paul, frankly. “You know he’s got a nasty way of rubbing it in every time he does anything; that stings worse than the defeat itself does. I’ve never heard the last of that race, and how nicely he trimmed me. And to tell the honest truth, that was why I went to all the trouble and expense of having this new craft built to order. I want to turn the tables on him in the worst way.”
“Couldn’t have a better day for it!” nodded Hank.
“Oh! the weather is all to the good,” declared Paul, impatiently; “but see here, you fellows have come down several miles—have you seen anything of another iceboat between here and Rushville?”
“Have we, fellows?” asked Hank, turning to his two companions and winking. “Was that a real iceboat that went whipping past us just after we started out; or might it have been just a shadow when a cloud passed over the sun? Yes, I rather guess it did look like the sassy thing Elmer used to cut circles with around all the other boats on the river last two years.”
“Which way were they going did you say?” asked Paul, giving his chum a significant look, as if to say: “What did I tell you; didn’t I remark that this was going to be a red letter day with me, since it would wipe out the sting of that old defeat at the hands of Elmer Craven, which I’ve never heard the last of?”
“Oh! up-river like a streak of light,” replied Hank. “No use talking, that Glider can go to beat the Dutch; and Elmer knows how to sail her too, the best ever; but I like the looks of this new craft, Paul, and from the way Harry handles the tiller I opine now that you’re just bound to give Elmer the time of his life when you challenge him to a race.”
“That’s what we intend to do, Hank,” returned Paul. “Much obliged for telling us about him. We can keep going now till we scrape his acquaintance. He’s been begging me for some time to get out and let him rub some of the rust from his runners. To-day suits me all right. And Hank, mark my words, the thirteenth of the month, you notice, is going to be a mighty unlucky day for Elmer Craven, if I don’t miss my guess. It’s skidoo for him, as sure as you’re born. So-long, boys!”
Harry threw the sail around and immediately the Lightning shot away with a sudden bound. They opened a big gap between themselves and the three boys standing there on the ice; but Paul, looking back could see Hank and his comrades waving their caps and sending out cheers that came but faintly to the ears of those who were speeding so rapidly up the river.
As a rule the Conoque ran due north and south, though there were places where abrupt turns were the exception. And as the breeze was almost due west this allowed of almost unlimited possibilities in sailing, with a craft so sensitive to the slightest breath of air as an iceboat on a smooth, mirror-like surface.
It took them but a short time to reach and pass the village of Rushville, situated on the left bank of the Conoque River. Of course quite a number of persons were enjoying the skating at this point; and the moment the Lightning came into view around the bend half a mile below, loud shouts attested to the interest taken in her appearance.
Again did Harry slow up, as Paul wished to ask questions of these boys. The news received was to the effect that some time before Elmer and Pud Snooks had passed up, and incidentally come near running over a little child, as they purposely swung in as if to show just how close they could come to anyone without hitting them. The Rushville boys were quite indignant, and talking about it when the second iceboat hove in sight.
“On again, Harry,” sang out Paul, after they had learned all they wanted to know. “We’ll run across them somewhere above; and perhaps Elmer Craven will be in for the surprise of his life. Somehow I just feel that this is my day; and I want to make the most of it. Let her go, fellows; and thank you for telling us.”
Harry had for the time being quite forgotten all about his troubles; and this was just what his chum desired most of all. Indeed, perhaps it was more to accomplish this than anything else that he sought a meeting with Elmer; though, of course, boy-like, he did want to even the old score, and pay up his debt.
“You’ve never been up this far before, I reckon?” he remarked, after they had left Rushville several miles behind.
“That’s a fact, Paul,” came the reply. “And I never dreamed that the Conoque was such a dandy stream for this sort of thing. Why, in places it’s fully a quarter of a mile from bank to bank. Yes, I’m glad I’ve come with you, Paul.”
“And perhaps you’ll be more than glad before the morning passes,” Paul was saying to himself; for he knew just how matters stood between Harry and Elmer; and that if they could manage to humiliate the proud, boastful spirit of the rich man’s son, it must be more or less of a satisfaction to Harry.
Two minutes later and Paul gave vent to a cry.
“Look yonder!” he exclaimed. “A mile ahead the Cranberry flows into the Conoque; and unless my eyes deceive me there’s an iceboat coming whooping down that smaller stream. Yep, that’s the Glider, as sure as anything. I ought to know her build; and Harry, get ready now to show them a streak of greased lightning!”
“So that’s Elmer’s boat, is it?” remarked Harry, as he managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of the tall mast of a rapidly moving craft, that was sweeping down the ice covered tributary of the Conoque, now partly hidden behind a clump of trees, and again passing a fairly open spot.
“Head in so as to be ready to follow after him, whichever way he turns,” advised Paul, his voice betraying signs of excitement; for he had been looking forward to this same meeting for many weeks, and anticipating the pleasures of turning the tables on his boasting rival of long standing.
But Harry seemed as cool as though there were nothing at stake. He had schooled himself to repress his feelings when a great emergency arose, calling for calm judgment, as well as quick action.
“I think I’ve got the course we want,” he remarked, quietly, as the Lightning bore well in toward the shore, just below the junction of the two rivers. “I don’t dare pass too far in, because you see that high bank, and the bunch of trees, interfere with the wind, and we’d get blanketed. There they come, Paul!”
Shooting out from the Cranberry like a thing of life, the rival iceboat made a graceful sweep and continued up the river.
“They did that on purpose!” cried Paul, as though a bit disgusted at the turn affairs had taken. “Let him say what he will, I believe Elmer is afraid of this boat. He came and examined her the day I rigged her up; and although he pretended to laugh, I could just see that he was chewing the rag. Yes, look at Pud waving his hand at us; and he’s shouting something too.”
“All right,” said Harry, without the least show of worry; “we’ve got our work cut out for us, that’s all. You know something about the river above; can we run any distance with the boats?”
“Sure!” answered the other member of the crew; “it’s the most obliging old river you ever heard tell of. Miles and miles it stretches away, sometimes narrow, and again broad; but if this wind only holds out, we can spin along like fun for more’n an hour. Hit her up, Harry, let’s see just what the bully contraption carries up her sleeve. After ’em with a hot stick now!”
Really, Harry needed no urging. The spirit of sport had been fully aroused in his breast. Forgotten for the time being, were all those grim troubles that had of late been making life so miserable for the boy. He only seemed to remember that once more his hand grasped the tiller of a staunch ice flier; and that a derisive challenge had floated back from the boat ahead.
And possibly, the fact that the two fellows who manned the Glider were his most bitter and unscrupulous enemies, had more or less to do with Harry’s determination to beat the rival boat. He would not have been human had he felt otherwise; and while Harry possessed many fine attributes, he was after all, only a boy at heart.
The Lightning had, of course, lost considerable of her headway when the skipper ran in so close to the high bank; but she was gradually veering further away now, with every second.
On the other hand, the opposing boat had come out of the Cranberry under a full sail; and shifting her course, was running up the Conoque with a speed that opened quite a gap between the rival craft.
Then in turn Harry and Paul saw that they were getting opposite the mouth of the smaller stream, where the wind would be wholly unobstructed. No sooner had this occurred than they jumped ahead as though some unseen power had taken the boat in tow.
“How about it now?” asked the skipper, wishing to have Paul report progress; as he had about all he could do in taking care of the skimming ice craft, watching how the wind acted on the sail, keeping a cautious eye out for any obstruction in the way of a branch of a tree frozen in the ice, or possibly an air hole which, if not avoided, might spell disaster to the pursuing boat.
“We are sure holding our own, Harry!” exclaimed Paul, delightedly.
That was an experience new to him; for up to now the Glider had mocked all efforts to equal her extraordinary speed. But Harry knew that, as yet, he had not put the new boat to her “best licks,” as he termed it. She was capable of better things.
This was just the time and opportunity for one who knew all about the tricks which an iceboat is capable of developing, to coax her to show her fine points; and that was what Harry was now starting to do.
Perhaps the boats were about equal in merit. Possibly, had the crews been reversed, Harry and Paul could have overtaken the Lightning, given time with the older craft. In other words, it was a case of superior knowledge and ability on the part of the skipper of the Lightning, rather than the possession of a better boat; for the Glider was certainly what she had always been called, a “marvel.”
“Wow! we’re gaining, I do believe, Harry!” announced Paul, a minute later; and there was a touch of actual doubt in his voice, as though the fact might be almost too good to be true.
“Are we?” answered his chum, just as though it were nothing more than he had been expecting right along.
“Yes, as sure as anything we must be,” Paul went on excitedly. “I’m trying to judge distances with my eye; and honest now, I believe we’re not so far behind as when we first passed the mouth of the Cranberry! Oh! it’s great! Keep her moving just as she is, Harry! Do you think you can? That wasn’t only a spurt, I hope!”
“She can do even better than that, Paul. Watch me now, for I’m on to a new little dodge. Keep an eye for blow-holes, and branches frozen in the ice. And Paul, shift your weight just a trifle this way. I believe the balance will be more even.”
Another short interval followed. Then Paul gave vent to his delight again.
“You did something then that just made her hump herself. Why, Harry, we’re clawing up on the old Glider hand over fist! Look at ’em moving around, will you? They’re getting scared, that’s what! Elmer never yet saw another boat creeping up after him when he was doing his level best to fly. Bully! Bully! Oh, ain’t we just humming along, though!”
It was no easy matter to speak while they were cutting through space at such a tremendous pace and Paul would have done better to have saved his breath; but he had waited and hoped for this great day so long, that he just could not bottle up his delight.
Not a sound could they hear around them save the whistle of the wind through the ropes above, or the sharp humming music of the runners spurning the smooth ice. Pud had long since ceased to shout derisive cries back at the pursuers. His scorn and mocking gestures had changed into nervous movements, as he tried to increase the speed of the Glider by altering his position from time to time.
When another five minutes had passed, though it seemed an hour to the impatient Paul, they had gained so much upon the other boat that the two were now within easy speaking distance. Yet strange to say, those on the Glider maintained a dead silence, that was quite unusual to their buoyant natures. It makes considerable difference whether one is on a winning or a losing craft.
Paul, however, could not keep still. This experience almost set him wild with delight. And where could you find a boy who would decline to rub it in a little, given the chance?
“Hey! you there!” he hallooed, using his hands as a megaphone; “get out of the way, and give us room. We’re going to pass you, and let you take our dust! Sheer off to one side, and let us have the middle of the river! We’ve earned the right of way. Lively now, Elmer! You’re a back number after this, with your out-of-date boat! To the scrap heap for yours!”
Perhaps it was hardly kind of Paul to add to the humiliation which Elmer must naturally be feeling, as he thus saw that the Glider was plainly playing “second fiddle” to the new iceboat; but it must be remembered that for years now, the son of the richest man in Rivertown had lost no opportunity to sneer at Paul, and humiliate him when he had the chance.
Apparently the two who crouched there on the Glider were at their wits’ ends to discover some means for increasing their speed. They seemed to be exchanging warm sentences, and Harry even thought he heard Elmer’s rasping voice raised in anger, as though he might be trying to lay the burden of the blame on the bully, whose extra weight might be just the cause for the difference in speed of the two boats.
Pud could also be heard answering back, and it sounded as though he were telling his comrade that the fault lay in his lack of skill in managing the Glider, rather than the handicap of weight.
“Can we pass ’em, d’ye think?” gasped Paul, as they drew still closer to the leading boat, on which a dead silence had now fallen.
“Easy enough, unless Elmer chooses to play some trick on us,” replied Harry.
“Oh! would he dare do that, when we’re spinning along at this mad clip?” demanded the owner of the new boat.
“You know him better than I do, Paul,” replied Harry. “I don’t like the look on his face. He keeps turning his head, then grinning in a nasty way; after which he looks ahead, just as if he was sizing up some desperate chance. I think he means to foul us up if he can; and anyhow it’s going to be a hard thing to pass him up here, where nobody can see any dirty play.”
Paul seemed to consider. No doubt discretion urged him to call the race off; but on the other hand he disliked very much to quit just when he had his rival where he had wanted to see him so long.
A fisherman never calls a trout his own until he has the prize in his hands; even though he may humanely throw the speckled beauty back into the water again. And in a race it does not really count, unless you actually pass your adversary.
So Paul, with boyish recklessness, determined to take the chances for trouble, and pass the Glider, come what might. He knew Elmer to be somewhat reckless; but found it hard to believe that the other would risk having his own bones broken, just to smash the successful boat of his rival.
But Paul counted wrongly. Elmer, when he became enraged, was not the same cool, calculating schemer that he had the name of being under normal conditions. And, urged on by the sarcastic sneers of the ugly Pud, as well as his own keen disappointment at seeing his pet iceboat fairly beaten, he might even take chances which at another time would have appalled him.
“That’s too bad!” Paul heard Harry exclaim.
“Oh, what’s happened?” Paul cried, in sudden alarm. “Are we going to lose out, after all that magnificent gain? But Harry, see, we’re still creeping up! Only twenty feet more, and we’ll be on even terms! What do you mean?”
“Look far ahead!” answered Harry.
“I see that the river narrows again,” the other boy replied instantly. “Is that what you mean?”
“Yes. We’re going to have to try and pass, while in that narrow stretch!” Harry sent across to his reclining chum; for their heads were only a few feet apart.
“But there’s plenty of room for both! I remember that cut well, Harry! I had my canoe upset there once, shooting the rapids when the river was low in Summer. Yes, it’s sure wide enough for even five boats abreast!”
“If they’re piloted by honest fellows, who mean to deal squarely with each other,” said Harry, significantly.
Paul was conscious of the fact that his chum was putting the decision squarely up to him. He felt a little uneasy. What if they should meet with a serious accident in trying to pass the Glider in such confined quarters? Was it right for him to drag Harry into this peril?