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The Grammar School Boys of Gridley, a fiction by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 19. Ben Wants To Know Who "Blabbed" |
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_ CHAPTER XIX. BEN WANTS TO KNOW WHO "BLABBED" "Cheese it! Scoot!" sounded the unnecessary warning. A crowd of boys, engaged in mischief, doesn't have to wait to be instructed in the art of vanishing. By the time that Mr. Green, swift though he was, got out into the open, Ben and the other stone-throwers had scattered in as many different directions as there were boys in the party. For a moment Night Operator Green halted, baffled, for every one of the fugitives had found safe cover. "They've run down to the street, and are making off," decided the night operator, with bad judgment. "I'll catch some of them yet." Whereupon he sprinted down to the corner and turned up the street. True enough he beheld a clump of boys, but they were gathered around one of their number and talking earnestly. "Stop, you young heathen! Stay right where you are, if you know what's good for you!" yelled the angered operator. None of the six boys moved more than was necessary in order for them to get a view of the charging operator. "Now, I've got you;" roared Mr. Green swooping down upon Dick & Co. "Well, Mr Green?" inquired Dick unafraid, as he had a right to be. "I want all your names!" growled the operator. "Your right names, too!" "I guess you know all of our names now, if you take a good look at us," smiled Prescott. "Yes, I do," nodded Mr. Green grimly. "I wouldn't have thought it of any of you boys, either. But there's no telling what boys won't do nowadays." "What are we supposed to have done?" Dick queried. "You're the youngsters who threw a volley of stones and broke the railroad signal lights." "Guess again!" suggested Dave. "Aren't the lights broken, and didn't I catch you moving away from the scene?" glared Mr. Green. "Yes; but didn't you hear some other boys getting away at the same time?" demanded Prescott. "Um! I--er--suppose I did." "Doesn't it strike you that the boys who broke your signal lights were the ones who ran away so fast?" "Then you boys didn't do it!" "We certainly didn't." "Who were the boys, then!" "Excuse me, Mr. Green, but you'll have to find that out for yourself." "Who were they?" pressed the operator. "As I said before, Mr. Green, you'll have to find that out for yourself." "Then I guess I'll take you youngsters in on the charge. You know that I belong to the railway police, don't you?" "Yes; and I also know," smiled Dick steadily, "that, if you don't succeed in proving your charge, you'll lay both yourself and the railroad liable to damages for false arrest." Mr. Green looked a bit uneasy. This is a point of law intended to restrain officers of the law from making arrests without evidence. "For the last time, will you tell me the names of the boys who threw the stones?" "No," Dick rejoined, "for we don't know exactly what boys did the throwing." "Name the boys you suspect, then." "Nothing doing," Dave Darrin interposed, with emphasis. "Then I'll have to take you boys in." "That's your privilege--and your risk, as Dick has explained," laughed Dave. Green fidgeted. He didn't want to make any mistakes, but he did wish that these Grammar School boys could be scared more easily. "Will you come back to the station with me, without going in arrest?" asked the operator. "Why?" questioned Prescott, pointedly. "Because I'm going to send for the chief of police, and I shall want him to talk with you," Green answered. "The chief of police knows where to find any of us when he wants to," hinted Darrin. "If Mr. Green asks us to go to the railway station with him, without being placed under arrest, I don't see what harm that can do, fellows. What do you say if we accept Mr. Green's invitation?" "All right," agreed some of the six. Even Dave consented. Ten minutes later the chief of police was on hand. He inspected the broken lights just before the operator placed out new ones. Mr. Green stated what he knew of the affair. Then the chief turned to Dick & Co. He put many questions. Some of these Dick and his friends answered promptly. They even told how they had spoken against the proposed prank, and how they had left when they had found that the other boys couldn't be stopped. But as to the matter of naming the other boys all six refused. "We're not tell-tales," Dick explained. "Justice Lee can make you tell," warned the chief of police. "Can he?" inquired Dick. "Can he make us testify as to our suspicions? And wouldn't warrants have to be issued for us before we could be taken to court?" "No; the judge could issue summons for you all." "But could he make us testify as to suspicions--things we didn't actually see?" propounded Dick Prescott. The chief chewed the ends of his moustache. "It's a criminal act to destroy the signal lights of a railway," the police officer went on. "You ought to tell us, to serve the ends of justice." "Do you know what would happen to us?" Dick demanded. "What?" "Every other fellow in town would point his finger at us and cry 'tell-tale!' We'd get thrashed whenever we showed our heads outdoors." "The police can protect you," declared the chief. "Have you ever had policemen enough yet to prevent boys from fighting in Gridley?" challenged Dick, though his tone was respectful. "Besides, the thrashings wouldn't be anything to the scorn and contempt that we'd meet everywhere." "You ought to tell us," insisted the chief of police. "You're helping to defeat the ends of justice." "Aren't men clever enough to catch a few boy offenders, without demanding that other boys 'queer' themselves with every fellow in town?" insisted Dick. "Justice Lee will make you tell, then," promised the chief, with a shake of his head. "He can't!" spoke Dick with spirit. "I'll go to prison, and stay there, before I'll turn blab. So will my friends." "That's just what we'll do," nodded Dave, his eyes flashing. The chief chewed his moustache thoughtfully. At last he spoke. "You boys can go now. I know where to find you when I want you." Dick & Co. lost no time in getting away from this uncomfortable examination. "Prescott and Darrin are regular little schoolboy lawyers, Green," laughed the chief. "We can't make them tell a thing." "But the judge ought to be able to." "Perhaps Justice Lee has the power, Green, but we'd only make heroes of Prescott, Darrin and the rest if we made martyrs of them in court. It would stir up a lot of bad feeling in the town, too, and after that every boy would feel that he had a grudge against you railway people. You'd be annoyed in loads of ways that the police couldn't very well stop. Prescott scored a hit with me when he said that a lot of grown men ought to be able to catch a lot of boy offenders. Green, the best thing to do is to put the case up to your railway company." "The boys who threw the stones must be found and punished!" insisted the operator firmly. "Yes; I agree with you on that point. But you'd better go about in a regular way. Wire your headquarters and ask that a railway detective be sent here on the case. My department will give your detective all proper aid in the matter." One of the earliest trains, the next morning, brought Detective Briscoe. That official, however, worked very quietly. No one guessed who or what he was until he was ready to strike. Ned Allen, Ben Alvord, Toby Ross, Wrecker Lane and Spoff Henderson were badly scared that same next morning. They met on the way to school and took blood-curdling oaths as to secrecy. Then, in the school yard, Ben Alvord hunted up Prescott. "Dick, you didn't give our names last night, did you?" "No," Prescott replied. "You won't name us, either, will you?" "No, sirree!" So the light-smashers felt more comfortable. By the day following they breathed easily--until they reached school. The boys were in the yard, playing until the gong rang for morning session. A buggy drove up, and Detective Briscoe and two policemen in plain clothes got out. "Trouble!" was the word whispered. Ben Alvord and his fellows turned pale. But the gong rang. Glad of any chance to bolt, Ben, Spoff, Ned, Toby and Wrecker fled to the basement to get into line. Briscoe and the two policemen appeared in Old Dut's room. The detective drew some papers from his pocket, inquiring: "You have boys here by the names of Allen, Alvord, Ross, Lane and Henderson, haven't you?" "Yes," nodded Old Dut. "Ask them to step forward, please." Pallid and shaking a bit, the five came forward. "Boys," announced Detective Briscoe, "I am sorry to say that Justice Lee wants to see you about a little matter on Hallowe'en. Get your hats and coats and come along." An awed hush crept over the eighth grade room after the youngsters had left. "I hope," declared Old Dut to his class, "that the young men haven't been doing anything very wrong." Under Justice Lee's questioning the five broke down, one after another and confessed. "Young men," said Justice Lee severely, "this is a more serious offense than probably any of you understand. Destroying railway signals is always likely to lead to destruction of property and even loss of life. I advise the parents of these young men to explain to them carefully and earnestly what a criminal thing these boys have done. If any of you young men are ever brought before me again, on such a charge, I shall send the offenders to a reformatory, there to remain until they are twenty-one. For this first offense I trust that the parents will act as my allies. On this occasion, therefore, I shall let the young men off with a fine of ten dollars each." The fines were paid. Ben and his comrades reached school just as the afternoon session was closing. All five of the culprits were in an angry, defiant frame of mind. "Whoop! There's Ben Alvord," shouted one of the eighth grade boys, as Central Grammar "let out." "Hullo, Ben! What did they do to you?" "How long you got to go up for, Ben?" jeered another. The five were quickly surrounded and eagerly questioned. "That judge was too fresh!" declared Alvord wrathfully. "He called us criminals, and gave us a fierce scolding. He made our folks pay ten dollars apiece." "That don't cost you anything," grinned one of the boys. "Don't it, though?" Ben demanded angrily. "I had ten dollars and forty cents saved up for a bicycle. Dad said that, as long as I liked such expensive amusements, I could just pay the fine out of my bicycle money. So, now, I've got only forty cents left. And all because some fellows can't keep their mouths shut!" "What do you mean by that, Ben?" demanded three or four fellows. "I mean that Dick Prescott and his gang had to go and blab on us!" charged Ben Alvord. "There he is, now, the sneak!" There was a great bobbing of heads. All eyes, and most of them accusing eyes, were turned on Dick & Co. _ |
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