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The High School Boys' Fishing Trip, a fiction by H. Irving Hancock

Chapter 22. Tom Tells The Big Secret

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_ CHAPTER XXII. TOM TELLS THE BIG SECRET


"Take 'em to the horse trough!" roared more than one voice.

So Dodge and Bayliss, the centre---of a jeering, resolute crowd, were dragged down the street a short distance. The crowd swelled in numbers.

"Stand Dodge on the edge of the trough, and make him read the paper!" shouted one man.

That was accordingly done. Bert was shaking so that he had to be supported in the place chosen for him.

Bayliss was whimpering in abject terror.

"Now, read this in the 'Blade,' Dodge," ordered a tormentor, shoving a paper forward. "Read it aloud."

Bert began, in a wavering voice.

"Louder!" yelled a score of voices from different points in the crowd.

Bert tried to obey, but his voice was shaky.

However, he read the article through to the end, while the crowd waited ominously.

"Heroes, weren't you?" jeered many voices when white-faced Bert had finished the reading.

"Duck him!" came the answer.

Bert was well splashed in the water of the trough. Then Bayliss shared the same fate.

"Now---git! Travel fast---both of you!" came the order.

Nor did Bert or Bayliss need any further commands. Frightened as they were, they nevertheless summoned the strength to run desperately. No one struck them, even in fun. Only jeers assailed them. Neither boy made any effort to get back to the automobile, but both kept on until they had turned a corner and vanished from sight.

"Pity we didn't have some rifle fire to tie to their coat tails," laughed one citizen. For the "Blade" had made it plain that firecrackers, exploded in packs, had provided the sounds of gun fire up at the camp on the second lake.

"Oh, we'll make somebody sweat for this outrage!" quivered Bert, his face dark and scowling, as he and Bayliss slowed up on a quiet side street. "There are laws in this land! We might even get damages out of someone!"

"I feel as if I had collected about all the damage I want for a few days," muttered Bayliss, gazing down ruefully at his drenched clothing and water-logged shoes.

"I wonder who'll take this car home?" asked one of the men in front of the "Blade" office.

"Where is my son?" inquired Mr. Dodge, pushing his way through the crowd without any suspicion of what had lately happened. "Isn't my son here to take this car home?"

"I doubt if he'll come back," replied one man, with a twinkle in his eyes.

"'Blade'? Extree 'Blade'?" demanded a newsboy, holding out a paper.

"Better take one, Mr. Dodge," advised a man in the crowd. "Mighty interesting reading in this extra!"

Almost mechanically the banker paid for a paper, folded it, then stepped into the automobile.

On his arrival home, and after having turned the car over to his chauffeur, Mr. Dodge went to his library, despite the fact that he knew his dinner was waiting.

There he spread out the extra "Blade" on a table and began to read the featured news story.

As he read the elder Dodge flushed deeply. Though the names of Bert and Bayliss were not mentioned, he had no difficulty in connecting them with the ludicrous story.

Turning, Mr. Dodge rang. A man servant answered.

"Mrs. Dodge wishes to know, sir, when you are coming to dinner," said the man.

"Ask Mrs. Dodge, from me kindly to let the dinner go on, and say that I am busy, now, but will come to the table as soon as I am at leisure. Then ask Mr. Bert to come here to me at once."

Bert entered. He had removed his wet garments, and put on fresh clothing. He had been at dinner when interrupted by his father's message.

"This extraordinary story in the 'Blade' refers to you, does it not?" inquired the banker, shoving the paper before the young man.

"Yes, sir," Bert admitted sulkily.

"You and your friend, Bayliss, have been making fools of yourselves, have you?"

"No, sir," cried Bert. "We were made fools of by others."

"When it comes to making a fool of yourself, Bert, no one else is swift enough to get ahead of you," replied his father witheringly. "So, you have succeeded in making the entire family objects of ridicule once more? I had hoped that that sort of thing had ceased when I sent you away to a private school."

"We were imposed on," flushed Bert angrily. "Nor has the outrage stopped there. Bayliss and I were seized in front of the 'Blade' office, and taken over to the horse trough and ducked!"

"Was it done thoroughly?" inquired the banker ironically.

"A thorough ducking?" gasped his son and heir. "I should say it was thorough, sir!"

"Then I wish that the incident would make sufficient impression on you to last you a few days," went on Mr. Dodge bitterly. "I doubt it, however."

"Father, I want you to back me in having some of my assailants arrested for that ducking!"

"I shall do nothing of the sort," rejoined the banker. "The ridicule that this affair has brought upon my family has gone far enough already. You are my son, but a most foolish one, if not worse, and I feel that I am under obligations to the men or boys who carried you to the horse trough and endeavored to cure you of some of your folly."

"I had hoped, sir, that you would stand back of your own son better than that. I am positive that Mr. Bayliss will not allow the outrage to pass unnoticed. I believe that Mr. Bayliss will take stern measures to avenge the great insult to his son."

"What Mr. Bayliss may do is Mr. Bayliss' affair, not mine," replied the banker coolly. "Is young Bayliss in this house at present?"

"Yes, sir; he's at the dinner table."

"Then I won't urge you to be inhospitable, Bert, let him finish his dinner in peace. After dinner, however, the sooner young Bayliss returns to his home, or at least, goes away from here, the better I shall be pleased. As for you, young man, I have had enough of your actions. I have a nice, and very quiet, summer place in mind where I am going to send you to-morrow. You will stay there, too, unless you wish to incur my severe displeasure. I will tell you about your new plans for the summer after breakfast to-morrow, young man."

"You're always hard on me," grumbled Bert sullenly. "But what do you think about Dick Prescott and his friends?"

"As for young Prescott," replied the banker, "he is altogether above your class, Bert. You should leave him severely alone. Don't allow yourself to attempt anything against Prescott, Reade, Darrin, or any of that crowd. You will find that any one of them has too much brains for you to hope to cope with. I repeat that you are not at all in their class as to brains, and it is quite time that you recognize the fact. Now, you may return to your dinner. Be good enough to tell your mother that I will be at table within fifteen minutes. Present my apologies to your mother for not having been more prompt. Now---go!"

Bert Dodge left his father with the feeling that he resembled an unjustly whipped dog.

"So I've got to go away and rusticate somewhere for the summer, have I?" wondered Bert angrily. "And all on account of such a gang of muckers as the fellows who call themselves Dick & Co.!"

Nor did young Bayliss fare any better on his return home that night. He, too, was ordered away for the remainder of the summer by his father, who had just returned from abroad, nor was he allowed to accompany Bert Dodge.

What of Dick & Co. during all this time?

They had gone away on an avowed fishing trip and they were making the most of it.

Harry Hazelton attended to perch fishing, when any of those fish were wanted. Tom Reade and Dan made the most of the black bass sport, while Dick, with Dave and Greg as under-studies, went after trout.

Several trips were made down to the St. Clair Lake House, and on each occasion large quantities of bass and trout were sold to the proprietor. He took all their offerings.

As a result of the sales of trout and bass some substantial money orders were forwarded to the elder Prescott, to be cashed by Dick on his return.

One afternoon Dick, who had gone trout fishing alone, returned with so small a string of the speckled ones that some of Tom's bass had to be added to the supper that night.

"I've been doing rather an unsportsmanlike thing, I fear," admitted Dick.

"Then 'fess up!" ordered Tom Reade.

"The trout are beginning to bite poorly," Prescott went on. "The fact is, we've all but cleaned up the stream."

"There must be a few hundred pounds left there yet," guessed Dave.

"There may be, and I hope there are," Prescott went on, "but I've decided not to take any more trout out of the stream this year. Whatever are now left in the stream we must leave for next summer. No good sportsman would ever deplete a stream of all its trout."

"The bass are still biting fairly well," mused Tom aloud. "However, they're not as easy to catch as they were. Had we better leave the bass alone, also?"

"We might take out what bass we want to eat," Dick suggested, "but not attempt to catch any more than that this summer."

"Too bad," muttered Tom. "I was in hopes that we were going to put by a big stake in the bank, to be divided later on."

"We already have money enough for our purpose," Dick suggested. "We have sufficient funds to take us all away on a fine jaunt during August, and these are the last days of July, now.

"I hate to go away from this lake," muttered Dave.

"It has been very pleasant here," Prescott agreed, "and if the rest of you vote for it, I'll agree to put in the rest of our summer vacation hereabouts."

"No," dissented Tom. "I reckon change of scene and air is as good for us as it is for other folks."

"Tom wants to get where he can find more bass fishing," Greg laughed.

"I've had enough of that sport to last me for one summer," retorted Reade.

The day was closing in a gorgeous sunset. In fifteen minutes more the sun would be down, but there would still be left the long July twilight.

"Did any of you ever see a more beautiful summer day than this has been?" asked Harry Hazelton presently.

"I haven't anything to offer in the line of such experience," Tom confessed.

"There are some days," Hazelton went on half dreamily, "that somehow makes a fellow feel thoroughly contented with himself."

"That's the way I feel to-night," Tom admitted, with an indolent air.

"I'd be contented if I knew one thing, and I suspect that you fellows might be able to tell me, if you only would."

None noticed the twinkle in Prescott's eyes as he spoke.

"I'll offer!" cried Tom good-humoredly. "If it's anything I can tell you, I'll do it."

"S-t-u-n-g!" spelled Dick slowly.

Tom suddenly sat up, glaring suspiciously at his chum.

"Now, what have I let myself in for?" demanded Reade.

"You gave your word you'd tell me, if you could, Tom," Dick went on, "and no one else can tell me nearly as well as you can. What I want to know is this: What happened to you, that night a few weeks ago, when you broke a bottle under my window, and then started down the street as fast as you could go with a crowd of Gridley folks behind you?"

"You promised!" chorused the other four boys.

"Well, if that isn't a low-down way to dig out of me what is purely my own business!" exclaimed Tom Reade, with a scowl.

Nevertheless Tom, like the other members of Dick & Co., had a high idea of the sacredness of his word, so, after a sigh, he went on:

"When I ran away from your window, Dick, with that pack of people behind me, I dashed into a full-fledged scrape that was none of mine. You know that Mr. Ritchie, whom some of the Central Grammar boys plague so fearfully, just because he always gets so mad and makes such threats against all boys in general?

"Well, it seems that, while I was helping Timmy Finbrink out of his difficulties, and afterwards tried to fool you with the fake window-breaking, some of the Central fellows had been down at Ritchie's playing tick-tack on one of his front windows. Tick-tack is a stupid game, and it got me into a mess that night.

"It seems that Mr. Ritchie had already been bothered that evening before the Central fellows began, and he had telephoned to a friend down the street who had two college boys visiting him. So the friend and the two college fellows went out, on their way to Mr. Ritchie's. Then he heard the tapping on his window again, and Mr. Ritchie ran out through the front door. The fellows who had been doing the trick had just time to drop behind a flower bed.

"I had shaken off the crowd that started after me from Main Street, and had turned the corner down that side street. As luck would have it, I had just passed the Ritchie gate when Mr. Ritchie opened his front door. He thought I was the offender, and started after me, yelling to me to stop. Just for the exercise I kept on running, though not so fast, for I wanted to see how far Mr. Ritchie would chase me. And then I ran straight into the friend and the two college boys.

"Those college boys tried to collar me. I was foolish enough to stop and tackle. I had one of them on his back, and was doing nicely with the other, when the two men joined in. I was down and being held hard, while Mr. Ritchie was threatening to have me sent to jail for life---for something I hadn't done, mind you!

"As I ran by the Ritchie yard I saw the three Central Grammar School boys hiding behind the flower bed. It made me mad, I suppose, to think that college boys, who aren't real men, anyway, should stoop so low as to try to catch a lot of grammar school prankers, so I fought back at my captors with some vim. Of course I got the worst of it, including the bruise on my cheek, but I mussed those two college boys up a bit, too. Then, when I got on my feet, the two college boys still holding me, I demanded virtuously to know what it was all about. Mr. Ritchie explained hot-headedly. I told him I could prove that I had just come from Main Street, but my captors didn't let go of me until we came to Mr. Ritchie's. Then I saw at a glance that the Central fellows had made a good get-away, so then I told Mr. Ritchie how the trick had been done against him. I showed him just how the string had been rigged, and pointed out the spot where the Central boys had flopped down behind the flower bed. Their footprints were there in the soil to show it. By this time all hands were ready to believe that a high school senior hadn't been up to such baby stuff, and Mr. Ritchie apologized to me. I was pretty stiff about it, though, and told Mr. Ritchie that I would consult with my parents before I'd decide to let such an outrageous assault pass without making trouble for my assailants."

"What did your folks say about it?" pressed Danny Grin eagerly.

"Dalzell, aren't you the little innocent?" asked Reade, with good-humored scorn. "Of course I never said anything to my folks about such a foolish adventure as that. But I'll wager that I left Mr. Ritchie worried for just the next few days. Now, you fellows know the whole yarn---and I don't think much of Dick's way of buncoing me out of it, either."

"Don't all turn at once," said Dave in a very low tone, "but, behind you, through the fork in the cleft rock, the Man with the Haunting Face is staring this way. Be careful, and we may-----"

But, as if shot from spring guns, all five of the others were up on their feet and running fast toward that strange man who had furnished their lake mystery without solving it. _

Read next: Chapter 23. "Four Of Us Are Pin-Heads!"

Read previous: Chapter 21. Real News And "Punk Heroes"

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