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The High School Boys in Summer Camp, a fiction by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 19. Seen In A New, Worse Light |
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_ CHAPTER XIX. SEEN IN A NEW, WORSE LIGHT "It's Hibbert," was the reply from the darkness. Then two figures came tramping through the rain, over the soggy ground, next splashing into the tent, the flaps of which Dick and Harry held aside. As they came in Mr. Page almost tottered toward them. "Well," he demanded impatiently. "What did you learn?" "I guess the boy is yours, Mr. Page," Colquitt answered. "Bill Mosher told us a pretty straight story. He found the child at the railway wreck, and he and his wife took it home, expecting that parents or friends would soon claim it. Bill says his wife was a good woman, and, when no one claimed the boy, she kept it and loved it as her own. Bill admits that his part in the transaction was due to the hope of receiving a reward. After his wife died, Bill, it seems, went to the dogs, followed his naturally shiftless bent, and, from a common vagrant, became a drunkard and common thief. Yet Bill claims, with an air of a good deal of virtue, that he never stole anything he didn't really need, and that he brought Tag up the same way." Mr. Page, white-faced and trembling, listened to the detective's dry recital. "You have taken pains to find further verification of the fact that this unhappy boy is my son, haven't you?" "Oh, yes," the detective went on. "Bill described with great minuteness the clothing the child wore when found, even to the embroidered letter 'p' on the underclothing. And Bill tells me that his sister has kept that clothing ever since, in the hope that something might come of it. The sister also has two pictures of Tag, taken when a baby." "Where does that sister live?" cried the father. "Take me to her home at once!" "She lives in another state, some four hundred miles from here," smiled Tom Colquitt. "Mr. Page, I advise that you find the boy, first. There isn't any real doubt as to his being your son. You had better wait for further proofs until after you have found the boy---who, according to all accounts, stands badly in need of a real father just now." "You are right---quite right," admitted Mr. Page. "Yes, we will find my son first. But tell me something more. Didn't the boy know that Bill Mosher wasn't his real father?" "No; it had never been hinted to him," Colquitt answered. "Bill kept the truth from the child, and, after Bill's wife died, they moved over into this part of the country, where no one knew their past history." "And has my son never been in school?" "Oh, yes; the compulsory education law came to the rescue, and the boy had a grammar school education before he took to the woods altogether." "I know something definite, at last," sighed the unhappy father. "I know that my boy is alive, and that he needs a father. Moreover, I feel certain that he is at this moment not far away from me. What shall we do next? Did you wire for more detectives from your agency?" "There was no need to do so," Colquitt replied. "There are several officers now looking for the lad, and they are certain to come upon him. Hibbert and I will aid in the search. The chauffeur will bring in four folding cots and some blankets. We shall have to impose upon these young men for shelter to-night, as this is the point from which we must take up the chase in the morning." At least one man in the tent lay with eyes wide open all night, and that was Mr. Page. By daylight the rain had stopped. The sun came up, drying the ground in the open spaces, raising a semi-fog under the big trees as the moisture steamed up. It was a close, humid morning, yet all rose so early that breakfast had been eaten before six o'clock. Then Mr. Page's party went away in the automobile, on some errand of their own. "I wonder how the girls got through the rain last night?" mused Dave Darrin. "They must have gotten along all right," Dick replied. "They had two dry houses in, which to sleep." "I've a good mind to go over now, and make some inquiries," Dave pursued. "Will you come with me?" "No, and I'd advise you not to go, either. Six in the morning is too early to call on young women." "That's so," Dave assented. "What time should we go over?" "As this is camp life, I should say it might be all right for us to drop over there soon after nine o'clock," Dick said slowly. "How does that strike you?" "If that's too early," pondered Darry wonderingly, "then we might go within sight of the camp, as if looking for firewood, but not go over to them unless we get a hail." "That would be a subterfuge," Dick replied, shaking his head. "Straight dealing is always the best rule in anything." However, Dr. Bentley settled the question of etiquette himself, by coming over to the boys' camp shortly after eight o'clock. "Mrs. Bentley sent me to see if you got through the night without being drowned," smiled the physician. "We look pretty healthy, don't, we, sir?" smiled Dick. "Speaking professionally, I would say that you do," agreed Dr. Bentley. "However, I believe you must have had a pretty dismal time in all that downpour. Have you been in the woods this morning? They are pretty wet, aren't they?" "The woods are damp, sir," Prescott answered, "but not really wet. The water has soaked fairly well into the ground since sun-up." "Are the woods dry enough for a little botanizing?" asked the doctor. "Laura and Belle say they have a few plants in mind that they want to add to their collection of botanical specimens. Are you two young men ready to escort them?" "Certainly, sir," Dick nodded. "And the forenoon will be the best time, as we must go through our training work this afternoon." "Hang my luck!" muttered Darrin in sudden disgust. "This is my day to do the cooking here." "One of the other fellows will take your turn," suggested Prescott. "I won't ask anyone to do it," sighed Darry. "I'm man enough to shoulder my own share of the camp work. Dick, you can look after both girls, can't you? And you'll make my excuses satisfactorily to Miss Meade?" "That's right---just right, David," spoke the physician. "Do your own work like a man. I'll undertake to make your excuses so well that Belle will have a higher opinion of you if that were possible. Dick, shall the girls look for you within the next few minutes?" "I'll be there soon, doctor." Five minutes later Dick presented himself at the other camp. He went first to Mrs. Bentley and inquired as to her comfort during the storm. "We know Dave can't come, but where are the other boys?" inquired Clara Marshall. "Over at the camp," smiled Dick. "Don't they think that we need attention?" asked Susie Sharp. "Tom is hauling firewood," Dick explained. "Greg is chopping it up. Harry is hauling the water supply and Dan is doing the housework in the tent." "Laura and Belle have an escort for their trip into the forest, but it's not a rosy outlook for the rest of us," Clara pouted. "Can't we all go together?" proposed Dick. "Surely, one guide ought to be enough for a party of eight girls." Susie decided to join the botanizing party. The other girls made up their minds to take a walk under Dr. Bentley's escort. So Dick started away with the trio. Belle and Laura carried the regulation oval cans for holding such plant specimens as they might collect. Prescott promptly offered to carry both cans, but the two girls declared that they were not going to permit him to impose upon himself. For fifteen minutes the young people went on, farther into the forest. Though the girls wore overshoes, Dick went ahead to pick out the drier paths. Collecting botanical specimens, though interesting to amateurs or experts, is dull work for onlookers. As both Belle and Laura were enthusiastic workers, Dick found himself walking chiefly with Susie Sharp. There was much waiting while Laura and Belle dug their mosses and plants. Finally, Dick and Susie found themselves standing together, some feet from Laura and Belle, who were gathering wild flowers. "Look at those beautiful purple blossoms over there!" cried Susie in sudden enthusiasm. "Are you going to turn collector, too?" smiled Dick. "To the extent of wanting a bouquet of those flowers," Susie declared. "Will you help me?" "With great pleasure. If you will wait here, I will get the bouquet for you. It will take me hardly a minute." Dick started away alone. By the time that he had picked a good-sized handful, Susie started to meet him. For the moment she was out of sight of the other girls. Dick came toward Miss Sharp, holding out the gorgeous blossoms. "Will these be enough?" he inquired. "Oh, yes! Thank you so much!" "It was a very slight service," Prescott laughed. "I am glad to have pleased-----" A sudden scream brought his gallant speech to an abrupt stop. "Oh, Dick! Be quick!" sounded the voice. "Pardon me," said Prescott to Susie, as he sprang forward through the brush. It was a startling scene that met the high school boy's gaze as he bounded forward. Tag Mosher, holding his shotgun under his left arm, stood confronting Laura and Belle. In his right, hand he held a gold chain and locket that he had snatched from Laura Bentley's neck. In one of his pockets, out of sight, now rested two valuable rings that he had forcibly stripped from one of Belle's hands. "Sorry, girls," he was saying. "I never did anything quite as bad as this before. But if you knew how badly I need to get away from these parts you'd know why I'm holding up girls to get money to pay my fare, and-----" Just then Tag Mosher caught sight of Dick Prescott. "Stand back!" warned Tag hoarsely. "I don't want to have to do anything worse than I've just done. Stand back, or by the blue sky-----" _ |
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