This was just what Fred read:

"On the way home by easy stages, and under an assumed name, so as not to arouse the suspicion of those who have kept me away. Determined to right a great wrong that has been done you. Willing to testify in your behalf. Be sure and keep secret, especially from the one you have to fear.

"You Know Who."

"Where is the envelope this came in, mother?" Fred asked the first thing; for he found nothing about the letter itself to indicate from what part of the world it might have come.

"I was very careful to keep it, Fred," Mrs. Fenton replied; "for I knew you would want to see it."

No sooner had Fred glanced hastily at the postmark than he whistled to indicate his astonishment.

"Why, it was mailed at Hong Kong, and a whole month ago," he cried.

"Yes, away at the other side of the world," his father remarked. "And from the tone of the letter I feel satisfied that our troubles will soon be of the past; for Hiram Masterson is tired of being kept away from his native land, just because he wants to tell the truth; and he is coming soon to testify for us."

"This is great news, mother, father!" declared Fred, tears standing in his eyes as he contemplated the joyous faces of those he loved so well, for the careworn expression had fled from the countenances of his parents; and he thought both of them looked ten years younger, such is the mission of happiness.

"I'll never hear the name of Hong Kong again in school, but what I'll just love it," declared Kate, laughing and crying by turns; "because it sounds so good right now."

"A month ago he wrote this," continued Fred, reflectively. "Why right at this time Hiram must be on the way to America on his vessel, and may show up here any old time. He says he is sailing under another name, so they won't know him. After all, Hiram has turned out to be a good friend of ours, father, even if he does belong to that Lemington family that has given us so much trouble."

"Oh there may be good branches on even the poorest tree," remarked gentle Mrs. Fenton. "So it is with families. There's little Billy, now, Buck's brother; didn't you say he was as nice a youngster as you ever met, Fred?"

"That's so, mother; and I'll try and not forget again. But I suppose we ought to do what Hiram says, and keep quiet about this latest news. Why, I believe that if people only knew we had a letter postmarked Hong Kong, they'd talk about it; and if that suspicious Squire Lemington heard, he'd put things together, so as to make out a true story."

"How that imagination of yours does take wings, son," said Mr. Fenton, with a laugh. "But you're right about one thing; we must tell no one. Remember, Kate, not a single word to your closest chum."

"Oh! don't be afraid I'll tell, father!" declared the girl.

"And I promise that not even Sid shall know," Fred put in; "though I'd trust any secret with him, for he's as close-mouthed as an oyster, Sid is."

"But even Sid might talk in his sleep, or let a hint fall," Kate insisted; "and you know he's got a sister, Mame, who loves to gossip a little—I kind of think all girls do," she added, with a little giggle, and shrug of her shoulders.

"Won't Hiram have a story to tell when he gets back again?" observed Fred, who, boy-like, thought of the adventures the kidnapped miner must have passed through during his long enforced absence.

"I imagine," Mr. Fenton observed, "that the harsh treatment he has endured at the hands of those who are in the pay of the company his uncle controls must have had just the opposite effect upon Hiram to what they intended. He feels very bitter toward them, and is more determined than ever to beat them at their game. I was always told that when evil men fall out honest ones get their due, and I believe it now."

"I don't believe Hiram can be so very wicked," interposed Mrs. Fenton, gently. "When he came down here from Alaska to help his uncle by giving false testimony, he must have been laboring under some wrong notion of how things stood. Since then he has seen a great light, and his better nature has come to the front."

"Then it was what Fred did for him when he first came, that opened his eyes," declared Kate. "You remember, mother, if it hadn't been for our Fred, Mr. Masterson would have found himself in serious trouble."

"Yes, that must have been the entering wedge," Mr. Fenton remarked, nodding his approval of the girl's idea. "It set Hiram to thinking; and once a wavering man does that, the good in him gets a chance. But come, this doesn't look like supper. I didn't think I was one bit hungry; but now I'm fairly ravenous."

"And the splendid news has taken my desire to eat away," Mrs. Fenton said; but she immediately started to get the meal on the table, her face radiant with the new happiness that had come.

At the table Fred was seized with a sudden thought, pursuing which he turned to his sister to ask a few questions.

"Do you remember who gave the letter to you at the office, Kate; was it that red-headed clerk, Sam Smalling?"

"Why, to be sure; he always hands out the mail at the General Delivery window," she replied, without hesitation.

"He's an inquisitive sort of a fellow, I've found," Fred went on; "and I've even seen him reading post cards that pass through. Stop and think, Kate, did he mention the fact to you that you were getting a foreign letter this time?"

"Why, yes, that is just what he did, Fred," Kate answered quickly; "how could you guess such a thing now?"

"Oh! I just remembered hearing him make remarks to several persons when they came for mail, which told me Mr. Sam Smalling kept tabs on about all that went on in Riverport. It must keep his brain working all the time, trying to remember when Susie Green expects a letter from her aunt away up in Basking Ridge; and if Eph Smith has written home to his ma regularly once a month. But joking aside, sis, what did he say to you about it?"

"Why, as near as I can remember, Fred, he only remarked that he noticed our far-away cousin in Hong Kong had finally taken a notion to write to us. I thought he was trying to be smart, you know; and to carry the joke along I laughed, and said it was too mean for anything the way Cousin Jim had treated us for a long time; and that it was about time he wrote."

"Splendid!" exclaimed Fred, laughing. "And what did he say to that, Kate?"

"I didn't wait to hear," she replied; "but when I went out of the door I looked back, and saw Mr. Smalling patting himself, as if he thought he had the greatest mind ever, to be able to just guess everything."

"Well, I reckon you've spiked his guns, then," Fred went on. "You see, he has a younger brother who trains with that crowd of Buck's; and I didn't know but that Sam might make some mention of the mysterious letter we got to-day from the other side of the world. And then, in some way, it might get around to the ears of Buck, who would carry it to his father; because, I guess every little thing about the Fentons is of some interest up there at the big house."

"Fred, if you make up your mind to be a lawyer, I think you have a future ahead of you," declared his father, proudly; "because your reasoning powers are first-class. But the chances of the post office clerk mentioning the fact now are so remote, that we need not give it a thought."

The evening that followed was one of the happiest the Fentons had known for a long time. There was much to talk about, and a spirit of coming joy seemed to pervade the very atmosphere of that humble cottage home, that certainly never brooded over the much more pretentious establishment of Sparks Lemington.

And when, rather later than usual, Fred went up to his small room close under the rafters, where rainy nights he could listen to the patter of the drops on the roof just over his head, he believed that he must be the happiest boy in all Riverport.

And in his new found joy his thoughts turned to the chum who was worrying so much over his troubles; so that Fred resolved on the morrow to try and do something to help poor Bristles Carpenter.



CHAPTER XII

BRISTLES HAS AN IDEA

The following morning, as Fred was tinkering around, fixing up some of his traps, he heard the whistle of one of his chums outside. Poking his head out of the window, and wondering why, if it should be Sid, he did not come upstairs without any knocking at the door, he saw to his surprise that it was Bristles.

"Hello! Fred! Can I climb up, or will you come down here?" the latter called out.

"Walk right into my parlor, said the spider to the fly," replied Fred, being in rare good humor himself, and wishing he could do something to help Bristles.

The other boy soon made his appearance in Fred's little den of a room; which, however, was mighty comfortable, and as neat as wax. Mrs. Fenton was a good housekeeper, and she had always trained her children to never leave things "at sixes and sevens," as she termed it.

Fred saw that Bristles was considerably excited over something or other. And of course the chances were that it must concern his own personal affairs. Having made a confidant of Fred, and gained more or less benefit because of his sympathy and advice, Bristles was rushing over the first thing with further news.

"You look worked up, Bristles," Fred remarked, as the other threw his cap on the table, and dropped down in the rocker.

"Well, I am, for a fact," the visitor replied, nodding his head to emphasize his remark.

"Anything happened to make you feel better?" suggested Fred; "has there been another mysterious robbery over at your aunt's house, so that she can understand you didn't do it, because you were far away this time?"

Bristles heaved a big sigh.

"Huh! no such good luck as that, Fred," he remarked; "I only wish it was that way. P'raps it will be, just as you say. But an idea hit me in the night, when I was a-lyin' there, trying to get to sleep again. I don't like to be awake when it's only three o'clock, you know. Makes me feel bad in the morning. And I was tired as all get-out last night, after what we did yesterday up at camp and on the way down, when we beat Buck's bunch so neat in that race."

"Hold on, stick to the text," remarked Fred; "you're the greatest fellow to ramble all over the lot when you start to telling anything. Now you said you had run across an idea; let's hear it, then; for I reckon it must have something to do with your trouble, Bristles?"

The other actually grinned, showing that he was feeling more hopeful on this bright, sunshiny, summer morning, at any rate.

"That's right, Fred, it had a whole lot to do with it!" he burst out. "Say, I've discovered who's been cribbing all those pretty little stones up at my aunt's!"

"You don't mean it?" cried Fred, really taken aback.

"Yes, I do, now," went on the excited Bristles; "and you couldn't guess it in a year of Sundays. It just seemed to pop into my head while I was lying there on my back, grunting because I couldn't get to sleep, or take my mind off Aunt Alicia and her queer old house."

"Now, don't stop like that, and chuckle, Bristles; but go on telling, if you want me to sit here and listen." Fred prodded his chum with his finger as he said this, to bring him to his senses.

"It's playing a mean game on the old lady, too, to take those opals so slick, and give her all that bad feeling; but if she will keep such tricky pets, why she's got to pay for it, that's all, Fred."

"Pets!" burst out the other.

"Sure thing," laughed Bristles; "that wise old crow's the guilty thief!"

"The black raven that she brought over from England, you mean?" Fred went on, rather staggered himself by what Bristles had said, and yet discovering an element of possible truth in it.

"Yes, the old chap that cocks his head on one side when you come in, and examines you over from head to foot, just like he meant to say, 'If you're not good looking you're not wanted here!' Oh! he's a gay old villain, I just tell you! And, Fred, mark my words, he's the scamp who's been taking Aunty's opals."

"Why, I do remember reading, more than a few times, that crows and ravens have been known to fly away with bright spoons, and all sorts of things that seem to catch their fancy; but I never heard of a bird stealing from its mistress, and opals at that."

"Well, that's what this one is doing, you mark me," Bristles said, positively. "Why, just see what a great chance the old boy has. He finds the door open into the parlor once in a while, and just hops in, takes up one of the shiny stones, and carries it away to some place where he keeps his treasures. I just bet you now he's been carryin' on that way a long time, and Aunty never noticed that things were disappearing till I began to come over to see her."

"You think so, do you, Bristles?" remarked Fred, still pondering over the matter, and wondering in his mind whether it could really be an explanation for the peculiar little mystery that had given his chum so much heart-pain.

"Why, it's a dead open-and-shut cinch that the answer to the conundrum lies in that silly old black bunch of feathers," declared the other, conviction in his voice. "I looked up all about ravens in our big 'cyclopaedia as soon as I got downstairs this morning; and the more I read, the stronger my mind got that Black Joe must be the guilty one."

"Will you go and tell your aunt, and ask her to make a search for his hiding-place?" Fred inquired.

"Well—er—no; not just that," answered the other, slowly, and watching Fred out of the tail of his eye; "fact is, I'm afraid she'd laugh at me, and say it was only another excuse for me to get inside her house. Now, if you could drop in to see Aunt Alicia on some excuse or other, Fred, perhaps you might get a chance to look around, and find out where Black Joe keeps his little crop of treasures hid."

Fred burst out into a laugh.

"Oh! I see, you want me to be the one to take chances; is that it, Bristles?" he demanded.

"Well, I didn't think you'd mind doing a little more for a poor fellow, as you've been such a help already to me, Fred; and then, she won't accuse you of wanting to do anything wrong like she might me. Fact is," he went on eagerly, so as to better carry his point, "she once said she kind of liked your looks, after you'd been in there with me. I sure believe you made a hit with Aunt Alicia; because, as a rule, she doesn't care much for boys, you know."

"Hold on, Bristles," said Fred, laughingly; "that won't wash a bit. You're giving me some taffy now, just to make me agree to visit your aunt. But, honest, I don't care to take the chances. My reputation is pretty good up to now; but it might go to flinders if anyone said I was taking things that did not belong to me."

"But, good gracious! Fred, she wouldn't have any reason to accuse you!" Bristles burst out, very much disappointed because his pet scheme promised to meet with a hitch so early in its development.

"You forget one thing?" said Fred, soberly.

"Perhaps I have, because, you see, I'm all excited; and it isn't apt to leave a fellow in decent trim for thinking. But what was it I forgot, Fred; tell me that?"

"Why, perhaps one or two of the balance of those opals might take a notion to disappear about the same time I dropped in to see your aunt, without any invitation to do it. And in that case she'd just naturally think you'd put me up to keeping the queer business going. I'd hate to have her think that of me, and much worse send word to my father and mother that I was a thief!"

"I should say so," declared Bristles, gloomily. "Bad enough to have her say that I was; and that's all in the family, you see. I never once thought of that, believe me, Fred. Wouldn't have asked you to take such chances, if I had. 'Course it wouldn't be fair, and I'm a selfish feller for hinting at it."

"I don't think so, Bristles," Fred went on, consolingly. "It looked good to you, because you never thought of the chances of another raid being made on your aunt's opals. But perhaps you might have your mother go over and see Miss Alicia. She could mention what you thought, and even if the old lady did pretend to scoff at the idea, it would put a flea in her ear, so perhaps she'd keep an eye on Black Joe."

"I'll think about it, Fred. I don't fancy dragging my mother into the game if it can be helped. I'd like to lift the lid myself, and then have the laugh on Aunt Alicia. Some day, perhaps, she'll be sorry she thought so mean of me, and wouldn't listen to my defense. You wait and see. I'm going to get at the bottom of this thing if it takes me all summer."

"Well, General Grant got there in the end, and let's hope you'll be as lucky, old fellow," said Fred, cheerfully. "Anyhow, that was a bright thought about Black Joe; and it would be a jolly story to tell if it did turn out that way."

"Why, right now you more'n half believe it yourself, Fred!" cried Bristles.

"It's worth thinking about," was the noncommittal answer Fred made.

"Oh! by the way," his visitor suddenly exclaimed, "while I was on my way over here I met Corney, who said he'd heard the Mechanicsburg fellows got their boat last night."

"Good for that," remarked Fred, with satisfaction. "Now both crews can get busy, and whip themselves in shape for that big race later on. I expect we'll do much better next time. Colon wasn't himself at all, after being nearly drowned only the day before. But he'll come around all right; and when he's in trim there isn't a huskier fellow in the Riverport school."

"We practice again this afternoon, don't we?" asked Bristles.

"That was the programme last night, Brad told us," replied Fred.

"Well, I only hope I get relief from this cloud that's hangin' over my head all the time," Bristles went on, sighing again. "It's just like the toothache, Fred; you suffer, and know it means goin' to the dentist's chair; but how you hate to go and get her yanked out! But once you make up your mind, and the job's done, how glad you feel you went; eh? Well, some bright day, I'm hoping, I'll feel just as happy as if I'd had a tooth drawn," and Fred was compelled to smile at the homely way his chum illustrated the condition of his feelings, though he understood just how Bristles felt.



CHAPTER XIII

A CALL FOR HELP

"I hope you take a notion to get your mother to go around there some time to-day," Fred went on to say, as his visitor got up to leave.

"Perhaps I might," Bristles admitted; though he shook his head as if the idea did not wholly appeal to him.

"She could smooth things over a whole lot, you see," Fred continued; "and then, if by some luck, another of the little gems has disappeared since your aunt sent that note over, your mother would be able to show Aunty how unjust she had been when she hinted that you'd taken the others."

"Yes, it looks that way, Fred; and I'm obliged to you for giving me the hint," said Bristles. "But I want to think this over again. I'm going back home and stay there the whole morning, doing some high and lofty work with my head. What's the use of having brains if you can't make 'em work for you. So-long, Fred. You're sure the handy boy when it comes to making a feller see things in a new light. But I still believe it's old Black Joe, the little villain!"

After he had gone, the matter was often in Fred's mind, and he really began to grow quite excited while thinking about it.

"It may be stretching things a whole lot to believe a bird could be so smart as to take those stones," he said to himself, seriously; "but anyhow, the opportunity was there before Black Joe, if he wanted to try it. I remember that when the old lady showed me those opals, and told me how they were taken from a mine in Mexico where she had sunk a heap of money, she put them back on the cabinet shelf, and they were just lying in a little bowl with some other curiosities she had. Yes, Black Joe could fly up there, and pick out what he wanted, sure enough."

Somehow the thought was still strong in Fred's mind when, later in the morning, he started out to go over to see what Sid Wells might be doing. And it even took him out of his way, so that instead of making his usual short cut across lots to his chum's house, he passed along the street where Miss Muster (the boys called her Miss Mustard on account of her peppery temper) lived.

He even turned his head while passing, and looked in toward the rather expensive building (for a small place like Riverport) where the old maid lived alone with her colored "mammy" and her several pets.

He could see the big bulldog that was chained to his kennel, placed under the windows of the room the maiden lady slept in. Yes, Beauty was asleep on the top of his box then, curled up as if not "caring whether school kept or not."

"Boy! boy, come over here! I want you!"

Fred at first thought that it was the talking bird calling to him in this way, for he had heard Black Joe rattle along just like an educated poll parrot. Then he recognized the shrill tones of Miss Muster; and at the same moment caught sight of the maiden lady.

She was standing on her broad porch, and beckoning to him.

Being close to the gate, he pressed the latch, and passed through into the yard, where there were a great many flowers. Possibly Fred felt a queer little thrill as he walked toward the porch, where Miss Muster awaited him. He remembered the proposal Bristles had made, and which he had seen fit to turn down.

The old lady was peering at him through her glasses.

"Oh! you are the boy who was in here with my—er—nephew that time?" she remarked; and at first Fred thought she was about to say she had no use for anyone who would keep company with Bristles, but she did not, much to his relief.

"Yes, ma'am, I remember being in here with Bris—er—Andy Carpenter, once," Fred remarked. "And you were kind enough to show me a lot of mighty interesting things, too, Miss Muster. What can I do for you this morning, ma'am?"

The sharp face softened a little, and the faintest shadow of a smile crept over the old maid's features.

"Let me see, what's your name?" she asked.

"Fred Fenton, ma'am. We have not been in Riverport much more than a year. I think my mother said she met you a while ago, down in the grocery, and had a nice talk with you."

"I remember, and a fine little lady Mrs. Fenton is, to be sure. If she is your mother, boy, you've good cause to be satisfied. And I wouldn't say that about many women, either. But I was just wanting a little assistance, and called to the first person who happened to be passing along the street. My old servant is laid up to-day with an attack of lumbago; and the gardener is off on an errand that will take him two hours. Could you give me a few minutes of your time, Fred?"

"Why, yes, ma'am, sure I can. I was only going over to look up a chum, and talk about the chances we have in a boat race that is going to come off soon. What do you want me to do, Miss Muster?"

She looked at him again, with that suspicious gleam in her eyes. Somehow, Fred could not help feeling a little indignant. Because she chose to think the worst of her poor innocent nephew was no reason why Miss Muster should believe ill of every fellow.

He was almost tempted to say what he thought, and free his mind. Perhaps, then, she might understand that even a boy has feelings, and can suffer mentally, as well as bodily.

But on second thought Fred wisely kept his peace. There might be a better way to teach the old maid a needed lesson than by sharp talk, which would only serve to make her feel more bitter toward "upstart boys" in general.

Evidently Miss Muster must have gained a favorable impression from her survey of the lad, whom she had called inside.

"I guess after all there is a difference in boys," she muttered, much to the secret amusement of Fred, who could easily imagine that she was comparing him with poor Bristles, and evidently much to the disadvantage of the latter.

He waited for her to speak, and wondered whether she wanted him to do something in the garden that possibly old Jake had neglected to look after, before going upon his errand; or if he would get an invitation to enter that big house again.

And as he involuntarily glanced toward the spot where the ugly-looking bulldog, called Beauty by his mistress, was now stretching his broad-beamed body, after his recent nap, Fred resolved to draw the line there. If she wanted him to approach the defender of the manse, he thought he would be showing the proper discretion if he politely but positively declined.

"Are your shoes clean, Fred?" she finally asked, looking down at his feet while putting the question.

"Why, yes, ma'am, they seem to be. There is no mud; and I'm in the habit of keeping my shoes clean at home," he replied, understanding from this remark that it must be the house, and not the garden, where his task awaited him.

"Then come into the house with me," she continued, as if thoroughly satisfied with her scrutiny.

Fred took off his cap and walked up the steps leading to the broad veranda. He would not have been a real boy had he not speculated as to what the lady wished with him. And it was in this frame of mind that he followed her into the wide hall of the house, which was to Bristles the home of mystery and the seat of all his trouble.

"Come right into this room, Fred," said Miss Muster, leading the way into what he remembered to be her living room, where she sat most of the time she was home, reading, writing letters, and paying attention to her business matters; for she had considerable money invested, and insisted on looking after the details herself, rather than trust a lawyer with them.

The first thing Fred saw upon entering was the pet cat, a big Persian, with long hair, and a handsome face. Then a restless movement from above called his attention to the raven, perched upon a curtain fixture, or pole, close to the ceiling, and, looking down wisely at them as they entered.

Fred immediately wondered whether he could be looking at the sly thief, who had been secretly making way with the old maid's treasures, as he noted the cunning aspect of Black Joe.

Miss Muster shook her finger angrily at the bird.

"Now we'll see whether you can defy me so impudently, you sly baggage!" she remarked, in rather a tart tone; and it burst upon Fred that, singularly enough, his unexpected visit to the mansion of the rich old maid was evidently in connection with something that had to, do with Black Joe.

Why, it really looked as though the luck that had come to the Fentons only the day before might still be following him, even in his desire to do his chum a good turn.

Perhaps the golden opportunity to find out something about Black Joe's tricks might be close at hand. How little he had dreamed of this when leaving his home only a few minutes before.

"Once in a great while," the lady went on to explain, "Joe gets a stubborn fit, and refuses to mind when I tell him to come to me. It always exasperates me; and twice before I've sent for the gardener to come and get the step-ladder, so that he can chase the rascal from pillar to post until finally he would fall into my grasp. I punish him by chaining him fast to that perch for a week; and as a rule he seems to amend his ways for a long time. But the last occasion failed most miserably, I must confess. Do you think you are strong enough to carry the step-ladder up from the basement, Fred?"

Fred had some difficulty in keeping his face free from a smile. The idea of her doubting his muscular ability, after all the athletic exercises he practiced; but then of course Miss Muster would not know that; so he only replied that he believed he would have no difficulty in doing all she required.



CHAPTER XIV

THE MISSING OPALS AGAIN

Following out the injunctions of Miss Muster, Fred easily found where the step-ladder was kept in the basement. Nor did he have the slightest difficulty in carrying it up the stairs after he had discovered it.

He noticed that the lady was very particular to keep the door of the living room closed; and remembered that it had been in that condition at the time of their first arrival.

"The artful rogue," Miss Muster explained; "would be only too glad to fly out, and scour the entire house, laughing at me, and mocking me as though possessed of the spirit of evil our great poet Edgar Allan Poe gave to the raven. But now that you have succeeded in getting the ladder, we shall soon corner him."

Fred was highly amused at the comical way the old raven watched the preparations being made, looking to his capture. He would cock his head on one side, as he looked down, and occasionally utter some droll word that seemed to fit the occasion exactly.

Having had considerable experience in chasing the mutinous bird all over the big room, Miss Muster seemed to know just how to manage things in order to get results with as little waste of time as possible.

"Fred, you take the ladder, and place it under this picture," she went on to say; "he always comes back there after each little flight. Then, with the broom I will shoo him off that curtain pole. He does get so excited, and goes on at such a terrible rate. Why, I sometimes seem to suspect that some of those strange words he uses may be what that Portuguese sailor, from whom I purchased him while over in England, taught him."

And indeed, once she started the bird flying wildly about, Black Joe did shriek out all manner of phrases, some of which Fred could understand, while others he was able to make nothing out of.

Fred knew the part he was expected to take in capturing the rebellious raven. He crouched there on the step-ladder, waiting for his chance. Trust a lively, wide-awake boy for being able to outwit any raven that ever lived. Black Joe may have believed himself smart, but he could not match wits with an up-to-date lad.

Fluttering his feathers indignantly, and still giving vent to a volume of angry cries, the raven presently, just as his mistress had said would be the case, settled on the top of the big picture frame.

Instantly a hand shot upward, and there was a squawk that seemed to be choked off, as Fred's fingers closed around the body and neck of wily Black Joe.

"Oh! please don't hurt him any, Fred!" cried the lady, dropping the broom, and hurrying over to take the bird from Fred's hands.

Indeed, the boy was not sorry to get rid of the savage creature, which was trying its best to give him vicious pecks, and struggling with wings and claws to break away.

Once in the possession of Miss Muster, however, it seemed to become very meek. She stroked it, murmuring endearing words, and proceeded to fasten a nickeled chain about one of it's legs, so that it could not fly away from the perch over in the corner by one of the windows, that were covered with wire mosquito netting.

"That was very cleverly done, Fred," remarked Miss Muster, in a tone that rather caused the boy to alter the opinion he had formed concerning her. "Poor old Jake is so clumsy he makes half a dozen attempts before he is able to catch the speedy bird. Once he upset the step-ladder, and sprawled all over the floor. And upon my word, I have always believed that sad wretch there laughed at him. It sounded like it, at any rate."

She was beginning to thaw out, and Fred found himself wondering if, after all, under the surface, Miss Muster might not have more feeling than she chose to let people believe.

He actually began to like her. And more than ever did he hope that something might come along to enable him to bring about a better understanding between the rich old maid and her once favorite nephew, now under an unmerited cloud.

"Sit down a few minutes, Fred," she continued. "And get your breath back after all the exertion of lugging that heavy ladder up here. Then I'd like you to take it back to where you found it. And I think I've got a book you'd like to own. I did mean to give it to Andrew on his birthday next week, but I have changed my mind."

Fred did not exactly like the way she pursed up her thin lips when she said this. She was doing Bristles an injustice, he felt sure. Of course he could not decline to take the book she meant to present him with, as pay for his services; but in his mind, as he was carrying back the ladder, Fred was determined that he would consider that it belonged to Bristles, and not himself.

Once more he entered the living room, where he found Miss Muster waiting for him, seated in her easy chair. The raven sat on his perch, with all his feathers ruffled up, as though he knew he was in disgrace with his indulgent mistress.

"Here is the book I want you to accept from me, Fred, and I hope you will enjoy reading it," and as she said this she held out a volume, which he saw was just such as a boy who loved athletic games would most enjoy.

"Thank you, ma'am," he hastened to say, seeing his opening. "I know I will like it; but I feel bad because you meant it for Bristles—I mean your nephew, Andrew."

She frowned at once.

"Please forget all about him just now, Fred," she said, decisively. "It's hard work for me to keep him out of my mind; but I never could bear deception; and, as for a sly little rascal, who looks you in the face, and denies everything, when you know he is positively guilty, bah! I wash my hands of him forever. I could never believe him again, never!"

"But Miss Muster, he is innocent," said Fred; at which she started violently, and looked keenly at him.

"Then he has fooled you as well as me," she snapped. "I warrant you he is chuckling in his sleeve right now because he managed to deceive me so handily. Much he cares about my feelings, when I was beginning to have a foolish old woman's dreams about Andrew inheriting all my money, and making the name of Carpenter famous one of these days. Oh! it did hurt me cruelly, boy."

"But you are mistaken, ma'am, when you think he doesn't care," Fred went on hastily. "Why, he can't sleep nights, thinking about it."

"Well, that doesn't prove anything," Miss Muster remarked sarcastically. "A guilty soul often writhes when being punished; and I suppose my last note to my niece, his mother, brought him into a peck of trouble. I suppose now he does lie awake nights, thinking. Perhaps he wonders what he can do with my lovely opals, now he's got them. Or he may be scheming how to lay hands on the balance."

"He was in to see me this morning, ma'am," Fred observed.

"Oh! is that so? And do you think, Fred, that nice little mother of yours would like it, if she knew you were keeping company with a boy who was suspected of abusing the confidence of, his fond aunt, and helping himself to her possessions."

"I think," said Fred, stoutly, "that if she heard all Andy had to say, and saw how he suffered, she'd believe just as I do, that he is innocent, and never touched your opals, Miss Muster."

"Well, somebody did;" the old lady snapped; though evidently more or less affected by the staunch way Fred stood up for his chum; "does he have any idea who could have done it? Perhaps he thinks my old black Mammy did; or poor, but honest, Jake Stall. He was always a fanciful boy, and it might be he suspects I walk in my sleep, and go around secreting my own property?"

"No, ma'am he has never hinted at any such thing; but he says, while lying awake at three o'clock this morning, thinking and thinking how he could prove his innocence, he suddenly seemed to guess who it might be taking your pretty stones."

Fred turned and pointed toward the blinking raven as he spoke.

"Well, now," remarked Miss Muster, looking surprised, and then smiling disdainfully; "if that isn't just like Andrew for all that's out, to accuse my poor pet of doing so mean a thing. It is true, I know they will steal, and secrete such things as they particularly fancy; but I watch Joe closely. Besides, there is another good reason why he couldn't have taken those opals."

"Yes, ma'am," said Fred, when she paused as if for breath.

"He has been chained to that perch for more than a week past, and I only set him free this very morning. So you see how Andrew's brilliant theory falls to the ground. He must think up something else, if he hopes to prove his own innocence. I wish he could, indeed I do. My heart feels very heavy these days, for I was beginning to have some faith in boys. But say no more. If you are going, Fred, please come into the other room with me. I want to show you a splendid specimen of a saw, taken from a sawfish down in the West Indies, and sent to me. It is more than three feet long. You will be interested, because nearly all boys like everything pertaining to fishing."

So Fred followed her across the wide hall. She opened the door of the parlor, in which he remembered he had been on that former visit, at the time she showed him the little bowl containing the opals, and other valuable curios.

After opening the door Miss Muster passed in, Fred followed, but remained a respectful distance behind her, a fact for which he afterwards had reason to be thankful.

Some sudden notion seemed to take possession of the old lady for quickly crossing over she took down the little Japanese bowl, as if to count the opals remaining. Fred heard her give a startled cry. Then she hastily looked again, after which she set the bowl down on a table with a hand that trembled violently, and turning angrily upon Fred, she cried in her sharpest tones:

"He sent you here to follow up his miserable trick! All boys are thieves, and in spite of the lovely little mother you have, Fred Fenton, you are as bad as the rest of them!"

Fred could hardly believe his ears when thus accused. He stood there for several seconds, no doubt turning red and white by turns, as he tried to restrain the indignation that swept over him like a great wave.



CHAPTER XV

FRED'S BRAVE STAND

"Excuse me, ma'am, but surely you do not believe that," Fred managed to say in another minute; and his voice may have trembled a little with emotion; though his manner was as frank and fearless as ever, as he looked straight into the snappy black eyes of the angry old lady.

"Three more of the gems are gone, and they were here this morning, because I took them out in my hand, and counted them," she declared, furiously; yet beginning to feel uncomfortable under his steady look.

"But why should you even think that I took them, Miss Muster?" he demanded.

"Because—you are the only person besides myself who has been in this room the entire day. Mammy has been sick in bed since nine o'clock; and Jake Stall did not put a foot inside the house to my personal knowledge," but although she said this as if to signify that her mind was made up, Fred could detect a little hesitation.

She already began to realize the absurdity of the accusation.

"Stop and think, ma'am, and I'm sure your own sense will tell you that you are wronging me when you say that," the boy argued, with the same positive air of conviction that had made his father declare he would make a good lawyer, if ever he felt inclined to study for the bar.

"In what way, boy?" Miss Muster faltered.

"Because in the first place you called me into your house of your own accord, when I was passing. I wouldn't have come, only that you said you were in some sort of trouble, and needed help. Then, think again, Miss Muster—you opened this door which had been shut all the time; you hurried into this room, and over to that stand. You know, ma'am, I was never within six feet of that little bowl. Right now I am half way between the table and the door. My arms would have to be pretty long to reach over there, wouldn't they now, Miss Muster?"

She saw his point. And indeed, even before he clinched the fact in this ingenious way the old lady was ready to admit that she had been unwisely hasty in making that passionate accusation.

"I beg your pardon, Fred," she hastened to say, holding out her hand, which he did not hesitate to take. "I was entirely wrong, and acted from a foolish impulse when I found that, in spite of all my precautions, more of my opals had mysteriously disappeared. You could not have taken them had you wanted to; and I do not believe you would touch them if you had a dozen chances."

That was saying a good deal for Miss Muster; and Fred, who knew considerable about her sharp tongue, felt that he could hardly have been paid a higher compliment.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said, smiling in a satisfied way. "If you please, then, we'll consider the thing closed. But that doesn't explain where the opals have gone to; does it?"

"Indeed, it does not," she replied. "I have been deeply stirred by this mystery; but Fred, believe me, it was not the value of the jewels one quarter so much as the shock given to my faith in human nature. I believed that the boy had been tempted beyond his power of resistance. Perhaps he wanted a certain sum of money for some purpose, and conceived the wicked idea that he could sell the stones, and get it that way. Oh! I would have gladly given him five, yes ten times their value, if only he had not given way to temptation."

"But Miss Muster," said Fred, quick to take advantage of his splendid opportunity; "you were just as sure, right now, that I was the thief; and yet how easy it was for me to prove my innocence. Wouldn't you be glad if I could do the same for my chum, Brist—I mean Andy?"

"Indeed, I would, Fred," she replied, warmly. "Do that, and there will be a whole shelf of boys' books come to your house, and an old woman's blessing in the bargain. But I'm afraid you'll find it a harder task than clearing your own skirts."

"But give me the chance, won't you, please, ma'am?" Fred insisted.

"Do you want to speak now about it, Fred?" she asked, eagerly enough.

"Why, yes, if you don't object, ma'am," he replied. "You know there's an old saying that 'it's best to strike while the iron is hot'."

"And you think that I'm pretty warm just now; is that it?" she asked, smiling a little in a way that made her thin face look almost friendly to the boy's imagination.

"Well, while we were on the subject I thought I'd like to call your attention to just one thing," Fred continued, persistently. "And after you've heard what I want to say, I think you'll agree with me that Bris—er, Andy, couldn't well have been guilty of taking these last opals. Why, he surely hasn't been in your house this whole day, has he, Miss Muster?"

"N—no, not that I know of, for a fact, Fred," she said, slowly.

"You keep the doors locked, don't you, ma'am, so Bristles, or any one else for that matter, couldn't have come in this morning, after you counted those things?"

"Yes, the doors are always locked. I am very particular about that. When the grocer's boy or the one from the butcher, come for orders, they wait in the kitchen while Mammy comes to me here, and we talk over what we need."

"Did that happen this morning, ma'am? Were both those boys inside here to-day?" Fred asked.

The old lady looked sharply at him when he said this.

"Ah! now I see in what direction your suspicions lie, Fred," she remarked, her face lighting up. "And if you can prove to my satisfaction that one of those boys took my opals, and they are returned to me, I will say nothing, do nothing, to prosecute the guilty one. Perhaps I was foolish to leave the door of opportunity open; the temptation within their reach. In that case the fault was partly mine."

"But I haven't accused anybody, ma'am; only I wondered whether one of those tradesmen's boys could have done it," Fred went on. "I'm going to look them up right away, and if I can recover the opals, and make the thief confess before you, then that will end the affair, will it?"

"So far as he is concerned, it will," the old lady answered; "but I shall never forgive myself for suspecting my niece's son of such a thing. Fred, do you suppose he would come to see me if you took him a message?"

"Who, Andrew?" exclaimed the delighted Fred. "Why, I'm as sure of it as that I draw breath. He'd almost fly here, he'd be that glad you believed him innocent. Do you want me to tell him, ma'am?"

"Wait, let it go for a little while. When I send you word, you may tell him all that has occurred here to-day, and how a silly old woman had her eyes opened to the truth by a clever boy. Meanwhile, please do not say a word to any one, will you, Fred?"

He was a little disappointed, because it would have given him so much pleasure to carry the joyful news to Bristles; but then, a little more delay could not hurt. And besides, it would give him a chance to look around, find out just what the habits of both the grocer's and the butcher's boy were, and possibly make the guilty one confess, on promise of immunity from punishment.

"I'll promise to do just whatever you say, ma'am, though I hope for the sake of poor Bristles you won't keep me waiting long," he answered.

"Fred, shake hands with me again," said the old maid, surveying him with kindling eyes. "I take back a lot of the mean things I've been thinking about boys these few days. There is something worth while in some of them. My better nature told me so right along. They're not all bad. I reckon now, you'd sooner do most anything than to break the fond heart of that fine little mother of yours; wouldn't you, Fred?"

"Oh! I haven't always been above suspicion, ma'am," Fred hastened to say, in confusion. "I'm no better than the average fellow, and I'm afraid I haven't always been just the boy I ought to be, either. I suppose I've made her feel bad a lot of times. But as to doing anything real wicked like stealing things—the worst I ever did was to get in some neighbor's orchard at night, when we had plenty of good apples at home."

Miss Muster laughed at that frank admission, as though she thought it quite an original plea for the boy in general.

"Oh! I understand all boys have failings like that," she said; "and sensible people wouldn't have them grow up like little saints. But Fred, I'm sure you'll never either as a boy, nor yet as a young man, do anything that would grieve your mother's heart. I'm ashamed of what I wrote my niece, and when I can muster up enough courage I'm going right over to her house, and explain. It makes me feel that it's worth while living, now that, through you, I've found that Andrew is innocent."

The way she said that last word told Fred that she was near the breaking-down point, and he thought he had better leave. He went away from that place with a heart that was considerably lighter than when he first started to pass the fence behind which the property of Miss Muster lay. He had had a wonderful experience, and from that time on must feel differently toward the old maid, whom the boys of Riverport always looked upon as hateful. She had shown him that, under the surface, she was a lovable woman after all, and possessed of a woman's heart, somewhat starved it is true, but still there.



CHAPTER XVI

THE TRIAL SPIN

"Which way are we going this afternoon for a practice spin?" asked Corney Shays, as he came alongside Fred Fenton.

There was a lively crowd around the long, low shed in which the new boat was temporarily quartered, while the new building, a start upon which had already been made, was being erected.

Several score of persons had gathered to see the boys row, for it began to look as if the whole community was going wild over the prospects of another school victory coming to Riverport. Baseball and football, it seemed, did not wholly satisfy the appetites of the now aroused Riverport athletes. They had beaten both of their rivals again this season on the diamond; and now, with Fall a long way off, this boating fever had seized upon them in its full strength.

Of course most of those present were boys and girls, enthusiastic believers in the fellows who carried the honor of good old Riverport school in their hand. It goes without saying that every member of the crew probably had at least one fair admirer present, who believed that without him the chances of victory must be mighty small indeed.

"Oh!" replied Fred, turning to greet Corney, who was a bit late in arriving, but was now dressed ready for business; "down-river, of course."

"Why do you say 'of course,' Fred?" persisted the other, who always wanted to understand everything he talked about, and who would go into details indefinitely until everything was plain. "There's a fine course up-river. You remember we rushed it with Buck's crowd. And I understand that it will like as not be made the official course when the great boat race is pulled off."

"That's true, Corney," Fred continued; "but there are several reasons why Brad has picked out the other side of the town for all our trial spins. First of all, you know the big, broad channel the Mohunk has for three miles between here and Paulding?"

"Sure I do; and a splendid place to make good speed, too," the other admitted.

"Then, again, if we kept going up the river we'd be apt to interfere with the practice of the Mechanicsburg fellows, who have no other course but that one between the two towns."

"And they'd be more apt to get a line on what sort of time we were making; isn't that so, Fred?"

"Just what I was going to add, Corney. Now you know about all the reasons Brad has for going down the river to-day, and other days as well."

"And is it true that he's got a three mile course all marked off?" asked Corney.

"Brad says he was down there with Colon on their wheels this morning," Fred went on to say. "They carried a long tape line, and as the road runs close to the bank of the river, they marked every eighth of a mile."

"How did they do it?" questioned the other. "You see I want to be posted, so I can get a pointer on our speed if I happen to look along the bank while we're making a spurt."

"That's the time you'd better keep your eyes glued on the coxswain, and the stroke oar, and not bother trying to find out for yourself what the speed is. Brad will look out for all that, Corney."

"But if you know, you're going to tell me, I hope?" pursued the tireless one.

"Oh!" Fred replied, with a laugh, "if you really want to know, I understand that every eighth of a mile is marked with a single small white rag; each quarter has a blue one; while the mile shows a plain red one. I hope some meddlesome fellow doesn't go to changing the signals on Brad, and make him think he's doing a record stunt. But I believe he's got some other secret sign of his own to depend on besides the flags."

He managed to break away just then; and as Corney saw that it was a very pretty girl who had beckoned Fred over, he made no attempt to question him further. In fact, Fred would have firmly declined to stay, because it was Flo Temple who had signalled.

Flo was the prettiest girl in all Riverport. She and Fred had long been the best of friends. It was he who always took her to singing school in winter, and to the school dances, sometimes given in country barns, where a long sleigh ride was necessary to reach the scene.

Once Buck Lemlngton had aspired to keep company, girl and boy fashion, with Flo. She and Buck used to squabble frequently, and then come together again for a short time. But with the arrival of Fred Fenton in town all this had been changed. Which was another reason for the enmity of Buck toward Fred.

Like some of the other girls Flo waved a little flag which was made of purple and gold silk, the adopted school colors for Riverport. This she used to considerable advantage; and Fred thought that when it came up against her face the contrast with her rosy cheeks and sparkling hazel eyes made her look prettier than ever.

"I suppose you will be getting away soon now, Fred?" she asked as he joined her.

"In five minutes we will launch the boat, and be off," he replied; "you see, all the subs are on hand, and ready to jump in if any one of the regulars fails to show up, or is taken sick. They'll wait around an hour or two while we're down-river. When we get back Brad's promised to take them off for a spin, and some exercise."

"Yes," she remarked, with a merry laugh, "I've been listening to some of them talking here. They do hope so much, poor fellows, that a chance will come along to put them on the regular crew. Why, I fairly believe they'd be happy if some of the rest of you had to leave town on vacations. But Fred, take care!"

She raised her forefinger as if in warning, and looked about her in quite a mysterious way when saying these last words in a low tone.

"What about, Flo?" he asked, not at all worried.

"I understand that the other crew went down the river an hour or two ago," she continued; and he could guess who was meant without asking.

"Well," he answered, "there's plenty of room for half a dozen crews to practice without interfering with each other. You remember the river gets very wide between here and Paulding. In fact lots of people always refer to it as 'the lake.'"

"But it would have to be an ocean that would be wide enough to keep Buck Lemington from carrying out any of his pet schemes, Fred. And somehow he seems to have picked on you as his especial enemy. It seems so strange, when I know you've never gone out of your way to do him the least harm."

The demure lassie looked at Fred out of the corners of her merry eyes when she said this, and it was hard for him to refrain from declaring that she ought to know that Buck's hatred for him began when she started to bestow her favors on the new boy in Riverport. However, Fred held himself in, and only remarked:

"It has happened that lots of times Buck and myself have been up against each other in what should have been friendly rivalry. Because fortune was generally kind to me, and allowed me to carry off undeserved honors, he has made up his mind that I'm always trying to do him out of everything he wants to win. And he never loses a chance to let me know what he thinks of me."

"You haven't been the one to suffer very much, up to now, Fred, if half that I hear is true," Flo went on to say, with a pride in her voice that somehow thrilled the boy, and made him very happy.

"Oh! I've had lots of good luck, I must say. But there's Brad beckoning, and I'll have to be going, Flo. Will you be here when we get back?"

"Perhaps," she answered. "I've an invitation to go in Judge Colon's new auto, to watch the practice from the shore down below. If you happen to see us waving, why please do your best to give us confidence. They say those big Mechanicsburg boys are fearfully strong, and can pull a professional stroke. And they have a coach, too, you know, Fred."

"We're going to have one too after to-day, for Corney's father used to be on a big college crew, and has consented to train us."

With this Fred had to hurry off, but he turned and waved his hand to somebody in the crowd just as he took his place, a few minutes later, in the eight-oared shell; nor did any one seem to doubt for whom the good-bye signal was intended; at any rate there was an unusual flutter to Flo Temple's purple and gold flag just about that time.

The crew quickly fell into the swing, and the boat fairly flew down-stream under their vigorous strokes. Brad, however, was keeping them down. He did not want to let everybody know just what Riverport could do. Doubtless more than a few of Mechanicsburg's admirers would be ready to take every opportunity possible to time the rival crew, so as to get a pointer with regard to their capacity. That could not be helped; but Brad was determined to be as cautious as possible.

Soon they were down to the broad stretch, where the little fluttering rags of various hues close to the edge of the water told the parts of the mile.

Here the coxswain thought it good policy to increase the stroke, and they were soon hitting up a lively pace. How splendidly the delicate boat flew over the water, just for all the world as a swallow skims along the surface of a pond! The boys were enthusiastic over their work, and Brad did not hesitate to give them the praise they deserved.

"We'll turn here, and pull up-stream," he said, as they rested for a few minutes. "That will come harder, and try you more. But it's all a part of the game. Once more, now, my hearties, with a will!"

They covered the distance up to what Brad had marked as the turning point, in better time than he had believed possible. A buoy had been floated to serve as the upper end of the course. Rounding this they shot down the river with tremendous velocity, as though striving for victory on the home stretch.

For some reason Brad took them down further than before, so that they even drew near the sharp bend before he gave the signal to stop rowing. The boat continued to glide along with the current, though gradually easing up.

And it was just at that moment, when the young oarsmen of Riverport were breathing hard after their recent exertions, that they heard a sudden crash as of splintering wood, immediately accompanied by a conglomeration of shouts, all in the plain, unmistakable voices of boys.

Startled, they stared at each other, as if not knowing what to make of it; and thrilled by the knowledge that danger must be threatening some fellows around the bend just below.



CHAPTER XVII

SNAGGED AND WRECKED

"What in the world's that?" exclaimed Dave Hanshaw.

"Sounds like some fellows might be in a pickle. Listen to 'em howl; would you?" cried Corney Shays.

"Isn't one of the lot whooping it up for help?" asked Fred.

"You're right, Fred; and we've got to get a move on, and turn that bend yonder, when we can see what's what. Ready, boys!" called out Brad, at which every young oarsman dropped back into his place; for they had been turning half around at the time, desirous of seeing what it all meant.

"Must be that Buck Lemington bunch!" sang out Sid, who perhaps had recognized one of the loud voices; for he and the bully of Riverport had been in conflict so often in the last twelve years, that it would be very strange if the excited tones of the other might not be known when heard.

"Then it's good-bye to that old college shell," declared Corney.

"You're right," asserted Dick Hendricks; "because that smash must have ended its days of usefulness forever."

As the signal to drop oars and pull was given, the boat once more took on new life, and rushed down upon the nearby bend. When they shot around this, of course the coxswain was the only one who immediately saw the exciting scene presented. And it certainly spoke well for the discipline under which that novice crew labored that not a single one of them tried to twist his head around, in order to gain advance information.

They left details to Brad, knowing that they would quickly be upon the scene, and able to see for themselves, without a breach of discipline.

What Brad saw was just what he anticipated, but all the same it must have given the boy a thrill. Sure enough, the delicate boat which had once won a big college race, and had been kept for some years by the gentleman over in Grafton, simply because his dead son had rowed on the winning crew, was piled up on some sort of a hidden snag, or concealed rock, at a point where the swirling water must have warned any cautious coxswain to keep away.

Several boys were clinging to the wreck. Others were swimming around like rats deserting a sinking ship, two being already on the way to the nearest shore. And about every fellow was letting his lungs give full vent to his feelings; so that the racket was tremendous.

"Help! help! I can't keep up much longer! This way, fellers! Get hold of me!" one of those in the river shouted; spluttering over the words, as though he might already have swallowed a considerable quantity of water.

"Aw! let up on that squawk, Clem Shooks; can't you?" shouted Buck angrily, as he swam toward the fellow who declared that he was exhausted, and sinking. "Want any of that bunch to give you a hand? I'd see myself asking favors of Brad Morton or his crowd. We'll get you ashore, all right, never fear. Hi! there, Whitey, this way, and you too, Oscar. Give this ninny a helpin' hand and tow him to dry land."

Apparently Buck was in a towering rage. He had been steering the boat when it struck the snag, and hence must be held responsible for the accident that would deprive the outlaw crew of a racing craft for the remainder of the season.

There was not one of Brad's chums, however, but who felt sure that sooner or later the bully would try to put the blame on one of his companions. That seemed to be the natural way with him; a scapegoat was as necessary to Buck's manner of doing things as it was for him to take all the credit when success came along.

Some of those who clung to the wreck were, however, not averse to accepting assistance from the regulars of the Boat Club. Brad directed them how to hang on, and in this way towed them close to the shore.

When the water shoaled enough to admit of their standing up, with it only waist high he stopped the boat.

"That'll do for you, fellows," Brad said, pleasantly; "and we'll go back now for the other pair."

"Aw! you needn't bother yourselves about them," broke out Buck, who had managed, with the assistance of Whitey and Oscar, to get the weak-kneed Clem Shooks in the shallow water; "they're on the way right now."

It turned out to be as Buck said. The last pair, realizing that they would be apt to incur the anger of their leader if they waited to accept favors from those Buck hated so bitterly, had indeed abandoned the wreck, and were even then swimming toward the shore.

None of Brad's crew laughed, though the aspect of the wrecked ones was most forlorn, and doubtless they wanted to make merry.

"We're sorry for your accident, Buck," Brad ventured to say, in as pleasant a tone as he could ever use when addressing the boy he detested so much deep down in his heart.

"Nobody wants you to be sorry!" grated the other, in an ugly humor.

"We've been talking about that race your bunch gave us yesterday, and honestly we hoped it would be repeated," Brad went on to remark; for he fancied he could understand how such a disaster must upset any fellow; and he tried to make excuses for the surly temper Buck was displaying.

"Oh! let up on that sort of talk; won't you?" growled the other. "I s'pose you'd just want to use us as a practice crew; hey? Well, it's off, anyhow; and all owin' to Clem Shooks here taking a crab, just when I was starting to steer clear of that nasty snag!"

"Why, I nev——" the astonished Clem started to exclaim, though he had swallowed so much water that it was difficult for him to get his breath as yet; when the irate bully turned on him like a flash, and shook his big fist threateningly.

"Don't you go to denyin' it, now, Clem Shooks!" he roared, furiously. "I ought to know, hadn't I, when I saw the whole thing? And didn't you get throwed further than any of the rest? That was because you didn't have any oar left to hold on to. You ought to be made to pay for the boat, that's what. No back talk now, or else I'll show you who's boss here. Button up your lips, d'you hear, Clem Shooks?"

And poor Clem, who was doubtless as innocent as he claimed, dared not speak further. By degrees the blame would be settled on his shoulders, without his venturing to protest in the hearing of the bully.

Fred and his chums exchanged significant looks. It was as much as saying: "Didn't I tell you Buck would fix it all right?" They knew the ways of the bully to perfection. And if Buck noticed the nods and sly grins, he thought it good policy to pay no attention to them just then.

"Well, since we're not wanted here any longer, let's be going, boys," remarked Sid, as usual thoroughly disgusted with the actions of the bully.

"Good-bye then!" sneered Buck, and Bristles noticed with a sudden thrill that he looked at the trim boat belonging to the regulars with a malicious gleam in those black eyes of his.

They once more backed into the deeper water, and were soon alongside the wreck.

"Shall we tow it ashore for them, boys?" Asked Dick.

"What say?" Brad remarked.

"Better leave it alone, if you know what's good for you," Sid spoke up. "Once you touch it, and there's no telling what Buck will try to tell people. Perhaps he'd even say we ran into him, and did the damage. But I reckon some people ashore saw it all; for there's Judge Colon's auto, standing up yonder; and they've got their field-glass leveled this way. It's Flo Temple, too, who's doing the looking."

"Better leave it alone then, fellows," Brad went on to say, being convinced by the logic of Sid that it was dangerous business meddling with anything belonging to Buck Lemington, even in a spirit of sporting fairness. "It's so smashed anyway, that it'll never again be worth fixing up. Too bad, too, for it was a boat with a history."

"How d'you reckon it happened?" asked Colon; "for of course Clem Shocks never caught that crab, or some of the other fellows would have jumped on him? Didn't you all see how silly they looked when Buck was accusing Clem? They knew, as well as he did, that it wasn't so, but not a single fellow had the grit to declare the truth."

"Oh!" Brad went on to remark, "Buck may have heard us coming around the bend, and forgot for a few seconds to keep as bright a lookout for snags as he ought. So they ran on this one at full speed. Say, wasn't that a fierce crash, though?"

Once more rounding the bend that shut out all sight of the wreck, and the forlorn members of the outlaw crew, who would have a walk of five miles and more before they could get to town with their sad news, the regulars put in some time in diligent practice.

"You're rounding out in fine shape, fellows," Brad declared enthusiastically, as they finally started up-river, bound for home. "To-morrow we're promised the valuable assistance of Mr. Shays, who knows the ropes from beginning to end. He'll be apt to give us a heap of valuable information, and correct a lot of our blunders; for I know we can do better work than this, once we get on to the right swing."

It was in this happy frame of mind that they came in to the little float that had been made by using a number of empty water-tight oil barrels; and from which the boat was to be launched, as well as taken from the water.

Every one of them felt thankful it had not been their craft that had met with disaster on this sunny afternoon.

Of course, when the startling news was told to the crowd that lingered around the boat shed, it created a big sensation. As Buck really had no admirers present, few felt very sorry for him. He had long been the terror of the town, and every decent boy and girl went in his company as little as possible.



CHAPTER XVIII

LYING IN WAIT

Fred, after some time, saw that Bristles was lingering nearby while he chatted with Flo and some of the others. He fancied that the boy with the mop of hair was trying to catch him alone, as though he wanted to say something in private.

That caused Fred to remember that he knew something which Bristles would give considerable to hear; and it also pained him to think that his promise to Miss Muster would prevent him from telling, until she gave the word.

But then perhaps it might be something not so personal that Bristles wished to say to him. Fred had noticed the way the other looked, at the time they were leaving Buck and his shipwrecked crew down the river. And perhaps he had made the same discovery that Bristles had.

Flo Temple, about that time, declared she must be running home, and left, accompanied by some of the other girls, her chum, Cissy Anderson, whom Sid liked; and Mame Wells, the little hoyden sister of Sid, who seemed to be more than, half boy, because she dearly loved to play baseball, ice hockey, go fishing, and even aspired to go hunting when she got older, and her father would buy her a gun.

Thus Fred saw no reason why he should any longer hold aloof from Bristles, who immediately came bustling up to him, with a mysterious wink, and drew him aside.

"I made up my mind I ought to say something to a few of the fellows, Fred," he began, by remarking; "and you're one of the select. Colon and Corney I've seen already, and they're of the same opinion as myself."

"Well, what's all this row about, Bristles?" asked Fred, somewhat amused; and at the same time pleased because the other did not seem about to put questions to him which he might find it difficult to dodge, without arousing suspicion.

"Why, about Buck, to be sure," replied the other, confidentially.

"But since his boat has gone to flinders, isn't he out of the game altogether?" demanded Fred.

"That's just it, Buck being out of business is the kind of a fellow who can't bear to see anybody else prospering. He won't have a boat for the whole summer; and we have. All the fun's going to come our way. That makes Buck grit his teeth, and feel ugly. Are you following me, Fred?"

"Sure I am, and it might be I understand what you're going to say better than you think I do," answered the one addressed, with a smile on his face.

"Looky here, did you see how Buck glared at our boat when we started off, and did you notice the cunning expression, almost like a grin, that came over his face? Tell me that, Fred Fenton."

"Yes, I saw all that," answered Fred.

"And what did you think it stood for?" queried Bristles.

"Oh! I just kind of thought Buck was wishing we'd run on a snag, the same way he did, and lost our boat, too, replied Fred, promptly; at which Bristles chuckled.

"I see you're on, all right, Fred," he continued; "but as you don't know Buck quite as well as some of the rest of us, you're not on to his curves as much. Now, I'm willing to risk my reputation on it that when Buck eyed our boat, and then let that half grin come on his black face, he was thinking how easy it would be to make sure that something did happen to upset all our calculations."

"Do you mean he'd put a snag in the course, so that Brad would run on it, never dreaming there was such a thing there?" asked the indignant Fred.

"Huh! worse than that," pursued Bristles with vehemence; "Buck wouldn't stop a minute to hack our boat to pieces, or even set fire to that old shed, if he believed he could do it on the sly, and not be caught!"

Fred saw that his chum meant every word of what he said. The idea was startling.

"That's a pleasant lookout then, we've got before us, Bristles," he observed.

"All right, it's what I believe, just the same," the other went on, firmly. "If we let things just slide along I give you my word some fine night we'll be aroused by the fire whistle, and get down here in time to find the boathouse ablaze, and our new shell ruined for keeps."

"If that seems to be the opinion of several of the boys, we ought to do something to prevent it," Fred declared, positively.

"That just brings me to the point," ventured Bristles. "Are you in with our little bunch—Colon, Corney, perhaps Sid, and me?"

"I'm ready and willing to do anything I can to defend the boat, if that is what you mean," came the ready response.

"Shake on it, then. Wait here till I send the other fellers around. Then we'll just have a little confab, and see what we can fix up. I'll sound Sid while we're coming along; though if you're in, he's sure to say yes, because he always sticks by you like a plaster."

A minute later Colon arrived, wearing a serious look; and then Corney followed. The three had just got started talking when Bristles hove in sight, bearing Sid along with him.

"Here we are, now, the whole big five," Bristles said, loftily, as he came up. "Now, let's go all over this thing, and see if we agree."

He again told what he had seemed to read upon the malignant face of Buck at the time they left him standing knee-deep in the river. Afterwards he called on Fred to describe what he had seen, and the impression it made on him at the time.

"You see!" Bristles cried, triumphantly, in conclusion; "both of us thought about the same thing. Buck is up to some meanness. He would be just delighted if we lost our boat, because he doesn't like to see anybody having a good time when he can't be doing the same. And as it isn't likely we'll hit a snag, or set fire to the old shanty ourselves, why, he might think to save us the trouble."

"Then there's only one thing to be done," said Colon, with set lips.

"We five must guard the boat each night!" declared Bristles.

"Right along?" exclaimed Corney, with something like dismay in his voice; "sure I'm willing to do all I can, but I must sleep once in a while!"

At that the others laughed.

"Don't be silly, Corney!" burst out Bristles. "Of course we'll take the job by relays. We can draw for to-night, the two getting the short straws bunking out in the house. After it gets dark blankets can be smuggled down here. Don't say a single word to anybody, not even Brad just now. Fred, you've got the key to the door; haven't you?"

"Yes, Brad asked me to keep it at our house for the present," replied Fred.

"Now, let's draw, and see who has the honor of keeping the first watch," and as he spoke Bristles hunted around until he had found five straws, which he broke off until they were all different lengths.

Each of the other four drew, after Bristles had concealed one end in the palm of his hand.

"Now measure and see. Oh! slush!" he continued, eagerly; "you left me the longest, after all, when I was hoping it'd be me. And it turns out to be Colon and Fred. Well, fellows, here's wishing you luck. To-morrow night I'm just bound to do the camping-out act, anyhow."

When Fred got home he explained to his folks the necessity of some of the crew guarding the boat. His father quite agreed with him, and readily gave permission that he spend the night out.

So, a little later, Fred bundled up a blanket, and made his way down along the river bank unseen. In due time he came to where the old building, squatty and dilapidated, stood under the bank.

A dark figure arose in front of him. He heard the low whistle that he and Colon had agreed upon as a signal each might recognize in the dark.

"Glad you came along," Colon declared; "was just getting tired waiting; been here half an hour, 'cause I heard the church clock strike; but it seemed like five times as long."

Fred opened the door carefully, and they entered the shed. A lantern hung on a hook nearby, ready for use. They would need its light so as to get things in readiness for passing the night. Besides, Colon had a little idea of his own he wanted to put into practice; and which had been suggested by the sight of a big empty hogshead that stood outside the door, on the shelving beach.

"I'm going to lay a neat little trap, and see what luck I have," he chuckled as Fred asked why he wanted the lantern, after they had fixed their blankets and made ready for taking things easy.

Colon was gone quite some little time. Fred could hear him working away like a beaver at something. And as a rope seemed to figure in the affair he felt a little curiosity to know what sort of a trap the ingenious fellow could be constructing, all by himself.

Finally tall Colon came in again.

"It's all fixed, and the door locked once more, Fred," he said.

"Then the quicker you blow that glim out the better," remarked the other; "for you see, one of those fellows might come around to spy out the land, and noticing a light in here, he'd be suspicious."

Colon took the hint, and put out the lantern, which, however, was kept near, so that in case of a sudden alarm it could be quickly brought into use again.

After that the two lads made themselves fairly comfortable, though they did not remove their shoes. In case of trouble they wanted to be in condition for active and immediate work.

Fred had filled several old buckets, so as to be ready to fight fire. And for a little while they lay there, occasionally whispering to one another.

Finally Colon went to sleep. Fred knew this from his steady breathing; and since he was feeling more or less tired himself, after the strenuous labor of rowing in the afternoon just passed, he too allowed his senses to be lulled into the land of Nod.

How time passed Fred had not the remotest idea, when he was suddenly awakened by a terrific clamor, that, to his excited imagination, sounded like a railroad train running off the track, and smashing into a kitchen, where the walls were lined with all manner of tinware.

Both he and Colon sat up suddenly.



CHAPTER XIX

NIPPED IN THE BUD

"Hear that, Fred?"

Of course it was foolish of Colon to ask such a question as this of his companion. That racket was enough to awaken the soundest sleeper. But then he was so excited he just felt that he had to say something.

Fred threw his blanket aside. Then he reached out for the lantern, and his handy match-safe, so that they could get some light on the subject.

As soon as this little task had been accomplished, he and Colon started for the door full-tilt. Opening this, they passed out.

The noise of falling tinpans had by now entirely ceased. Of course the artful Colon had piled up all the waste cans he could find, so that if they were toppled over they would make considerable racket. Once upon a time there had been some sort of manufactory connected with the shed; and back of it Colon had discovered a regular mine of what he wanted in the way of rusty cans, large enough to suit his purpose, and make all the noise heart could wish.

"Look! I got one!"

Colon pointed excitedly as he said this, and as Fred looked he burst out into a loud laugh. Evidently Colon's trap had worked. A boy was dangling by the heels, held up in the air by the loop of a rope, which seemed to pass over a post connected with the building, and then extend to the hogshead, partly filled with stones, and which was now half way down the beach, the rope taut, and holding the victim in his elevated position.

"It's Conrad Jimmerson!" exclaimed Colon, as they arrived close to the boy, who was kicking furiously, and groaning dismally.

His coat hung down over his head in such fashion that he could not see what was going on; Colon must have recognized him by his clothes, or through some boyish instinct.

"Oh! get me down, quick!" moaned the trapped prowler. "All the blood's agoin' to my head, and I'll be a dead one soon! Please cut me down, fellers! I won't run!"

"I'm right sure you won't," remarked Colon, drily; "but while I've got you held up so neat, I might as well make it doubly certain."

With, that he secured the other flourishing leg so that when Conrad was lowered to the ground he could not move without their permission.

"Give us a hand here, Fred, and we'll get him out of the trap," remarked the proud inventor of the running-barrel game. "You see, he stepped right up on this box, just as I figured, and touched the trigger. With that he started the heavy barrel rolling down-grade; and the loop caught him by one leg, instead of both, as I meant it should."

"But what was all the fierce noise that woke us up?" asked Fred, as he assisted Colon to take the victim down, by dragging in on the rope, so as to slacken the loop around the leg of the trapped one.

"Oh! shucks! just a pile of tin cans I built up, to be knocked over when the barrel got to turning around. You see, I was a little afraid that we mightn't hear when the trap was sprung, and I wouldn't want to miss this funny sight for anything. Here, you are, Conrad; lie there now, till we can drag you inside the house."

The boy was evidently very much frightened. He had thought his ankle in the grasp of some unseen giant, when the loop tightened, and snatched him upwards. No wonder he trembled and wheezed as he cowered there.

"We'd better go in right now, then," remarked Fred. "Some of that crowd might take a notion to come back and see what has happened to Conrad. Take hold of him on that side, Colon, while I look after this one."

"Oh! what you a-goin' to do with me?" queried the prisoner. "I haven't done a single thing, fellers, cross my heart if I did. Just wanted to see if anybody was a-sleepin' in the old shed. Buck told me to be sure and not hurt the boat. He says that its bad enough because we lost ours, without anything a-happenin' to yours. I wouldn't do a little thing, sure I wouldn't. Hope you believe me boys. Don't lick me! I got about all I ought to have already. I'm shiverin' to beat the band. Quit jerkin' me that way, Chris Colon; I ain't hurt you!"

"Oh! come along, you silly!" said the tall boy, who had a contempt for so great a sneak and coward as Conrad Jimmerson.

Fred closed and locked the door again after they had entered. The sound of the key being turned in the lock started the frightened boy into protesting again. He judged others by Buck's standard, and the bare thought of finding himself alone and a prisoner, in the power of those he would have injured, seemed to give him a case of the "trembles," as Colon called it.

"Now I want you to take a look into his pockets," the tall boy remarked.

Immediately he uttered a triumphant exclamation.

"See here, Fred, he had a whole lot of matches with him!" he called out. "Looks like he was ready for business, all right."

"Say, I always carry matches with me, and you know it, Chris Colon," protested the alarmed prisoner, vigorously.

"Perhaps you do, but never so many as these," Colon went on. "I kind of reckon you thought you'd have good need of 'em this night. But what're you carrying under your arm that way, Fred? Saw you step over, and pick somethin' up outside there. Find anything worth while; another feller's cap, maybe?"

"No, it was this," and Fred held an object up.

"What's that? Looks like a bundle of old rags!" remarked Colon, quickly; while the prisoner gasped and shivered worse than ever.

"There was something more; what do you think of this?" and for the second time Fred elevated his hand, containing an object that made Colon utter a cry of rage.

"A bottle!" he ejaculated. "What's in it, Fred? Three to one I c'n guess. Kerosene!"

"That's just what it is," returned the other, gravely. "Some fellows came here to-night prepared to throw this stuff over one end of the old shed, and start a fire going. Perhaps they even meant to break in, and scatter the oil over the boat, so nothing could save it, once the fire got started. We've nipped as mean a little game in the bud as I ever heard about."

Colon turned on the prisoner with a black face, and gritting teeth.

"Who set you on to this thing, Jimmerson?" he demanded. "You never thought of it by yourself, because you haven't got the brains. Tell me now, wasn't it Buck Lemington who got you to come here, and try to set the shed afire?"

Conrad tried to look defiant, but somehow he lacked the spirit. He saw those two frowning lads on either side of him, as he stood there leaning against the wall of the boathouse, his ankles tied with the rope; and he began to weaken.

"I never would a' thought of coming here to spy if it wasn't for——" he had just started to say, when there came a loud whistle, twice repeated, from outside, which must have been recognized by the fellow as a terrible threat of what would happen to him if he opened his lips to betray his cronies; for he shivered as if he had been showered with ice water, nor could they influence him after that, either by threats or promises, to say another word.

Fear of what Buck would do seemed to have a greater influence over him than the possibility of punishment because of what he had tried to do. One was sure, while the other might be set down as only a chance.

Besides, perhaps the fellow began to realize that Fred and Colon really could not prove that he had been carrying that bundle of old rags, as well as the bottle containing the kerosene. No court would decide that because they had been found there on the ground, he had brought them.

Fred understood this and it was what made him say presently:

"Well, we might as well let this fellow loose, Colon. After all, the proof, if there is any, must rest in these rags and this bottle. If we can find out just where they came from, we'll be satisfied in our own minds whom we have to thank for this midnight alarm."

"Just as if there could be any doubt about it!" scoffed Colon. "Didn't we hear that whistle, and don't I know who gave it? Buck carries a little silver whistle and likes to communicate with his bunch that way. They've got a regular code, I've heard tell. And didn't you notice how quick Conrad, here, buttoned up his lips when he heard that order to keep mum?"

"Another night," said Fred, threateningly, "we'll have a shotgun handy; and it'll go hard with prowlers, if we get a sight of them. Unfasten his legs, Colon, and then show him the door."

The prisoner seemed to regain a little of his lost courage upon finding that they did not mean to hurt him any.

"And you just stop pinching me when you do untie this rope, Chris Colon," said Conrad. "I want you to know you don't own the earth. A feller what lives in Riverport all his life ought to have the right to walk along the river here without having tricks played on him, and bein' yanked head-down up in the air. You'll pay for your fun yet, see if you don't, Chris Colon."

"Shut up!" roared the exasperated Colon, shaking the other, whom he was now escorting to the door, with the intention of ejecting him, just as Fred had directed. "You ought to be tarred and feathered, if you got your dues. Like to see our boat go up in smoke; would you? And Buck aims to keep us from using the river, just because he was foolish enough as to smash his own boat? You tell him to come himself the next time. We'll be glad to see him; and perhaps he might meet with a surprise worse than the one I sprung on you, Conrad. Now don't forget to tell him; you hear me!"

Colon had managed to get the door open while speaking. Then he gave the other a little push, as if to start him going. Conrad somehow seemed to suspect what was coming, for he tried to hug close to the tall boy, who, however, gave him a shove. So Conrad, thinking he had a chance, made a bolt; but that long leg of Colon shot out, and caught him fairly and squarely, sending him flying.

The boy who was thus thrown out picked himself up, and thinking he heard his enemy coming toward him, fled into the darkness, howling in mingled pain and fear.

Colon, laughing heartily, closed and fastened the door, after which he rejoined his watch-mate, to see out the balance of the eventful night in Fred's company.



CHAPTER XX

IN THE HOLLOW OAK

After that there was no further alarm, and the two watchers secured quite a fair amount of sleep before the coming of dawn warned them to hie away home. They left the blankets at the boathouse, for they had purposely brought old ones; and hence, when it came time for the next watch to take up their duties, there would be no occasion for them to duplicate.

On second thought the boys had come to the conclusion that it might be wise for them to tell Brad what had happened. The fact that the vengeful Buck had not stopped at such a grave thing as setting fire to the shed, worried them both.

So a little later they both met again, having had breakfast. Together they hunted up the other three who were in the game; indeed, Bristles was meanwhile searching the whole neighborhood for Fred, having called at his house after he had gone.

"Well," he remarked, after he had caught up with Fred, Sid and Colon, on their way to get Corney and himself; "seems to me you fellows are in a big hurry this same morning."

"We are," replied Fred. "We wanted to get the entire committee together, and go in a body to see Brad. He ought to know that the boat is always going to be in danger unless something is done to curb Buck Lemington."

"Say, was I right?" cried Bristles, exultantly.

"You were," replied Colon, solemnly.

"Then he did try to break in, so's to cut the boat, and injure her?" the other went on, eagerly.

"Worse than that!" said Colon.

"Far worse!" Fred added, looking mighty solemn himself.

"Oh! come, let up on that sort of thing; open up and tell me what happened!" the excited boy demanded.

When they did give him the whole story he could hardly contain himself, between his natural indignation because of the meanness of the act, and his delight over the success of Colon's little trap.

"Caught that sneak Conrad Jimmerson, and strung him up like a trapped 'possum, did you?" he cried, clapping his hands in glee. "Gee! what tough luck that I wasn't around to see it. Always my bad fortune, seeing lots of game when I haven't got a gun; and never a thing when I'm heeled for business."

"You see Colon and myself got to talking it over," said Fred; "and we made up our minds that it was hardly fair to keep the thing from Brad. He's our head in the boat club, and ought to know all that's going on. Besides, when toughs begin to want to burn down houses just for spite, that's going pretty far. Something ought to be done to stop it."

Brad was of course duly impressed when he heard the story. He laughed heartily at the comical element connected with Colon's man-trap; but took the other part seriously.

"I'm going over and see my uncle about it," he declared in the end. "Being a lawyer, and a judge at that, he'll tell me what to do. I think he'll say he wouldn't mention a single name; for you know all lawyers are mighty cautious how they give cause for a suit for slander. But he'll tell me we ought to scatter the story all over town, and also let it be known that from now on there'll be somebody in that house every night, armed, and ready to fire on trespassers. See you later, fellows."

Fred found a chance a little later to get away from his other chums. He really did have an errand for his mother in one of the stores, but he remembered something besides that he had intended doing at the earliest opportunity, and it was this that swayed him most.

Now, it chanced that the place he had to visit to leave an order was the largest grocery store in Riverport. And one of the boys employed there was Toby Farrell. Fred knew that he was generally sent out each morning on a wheel, to visit a line of customers, and take down their orders; though most of them had telephones for that matter, and could have wired in their necessities.

Still, this grocer was enterprising, and instructed his boy clerk to tell each customer just what new and attractive goods they had received fresh that morning, possibly strawberries, vegetables and the like.

And in the course of his wheeling about Toby was accustomed to visit the establishment of Miss Alicia Muster each and every day. In fact, Toby was one of the two boys hired by trades-people whom Fred suspected of being the person guilty of taking the old maid's opals from the parlor.

Both of them were allowed to cool their heels in the kitchen for possibly ten minutes at a time, while the aged "mammy" consulted her mistress in her private room. And an inquisitive half-grown boy might become so familiar with the premises that, in a spirit of curiosity, or from some other reason, he would look around him a little at such times.

Mr. Cleaver, the grocer, was in a good humor, and when Fred mentioned that he knew someone who had shown an interest in his young clerk, he immediately broke out in Toby's praise.

"Best boy, barring none, I ever had, Fred," he declared. "Never late in the morning, neat in his work, obliging in his manners to my customers, and willing to stay after hours if there is a rush. In fact I'm so well satisfied with Toby that I expect to add a couple of dollars to his wages this very next Saturday. And I'm told he's the idol of his mother's eye. She's a widow, you know, with three small children, Toby being the eldest. He shows signs of being like his father; and Matthew Farrell was one of our leading citizens up to the time of his death. I hope she gets his pension through; it'll mean several thousand dollars for her. He died really of wounds received long ago in the war. Never would apply for the pension he was entitled to. Toby's all right, you tell your friend; and he's promised to stick right here. Some day he might be a partner in this business, who knows?"

Well, after that, Fred was ready to throw up his hands in so far as Toby was concerned. He felt that he could never strike pay dirt in that quarter. There never was, and never would be again, quite such a paragon as Toby Farrell. It would be wasting time to try and bark up this tree. The scent had evidently led him in the wrong quarter.

Accordingly, he turned toward the butcher's, and here he fully anticipated getting on the track of something. Gabe lived in an outlying quarter, and when he went home in the evening, or at noon, he took a short-cut through Ramsey's woods, where there was a convenient path.

Now it happened that Fred knew this fact, for he had many a time seen the butcher's boy going and coming. Gabe had a big whistle, and used to amuse himself as he walked to and from home in trying to get the airs from the popular ragtime songs of the day.

Fred had heard it said that the boy who whistles is generally an honest fellow, and that guilt and this disposition seldom, if ever, go hand in hand. How much truth there was in this saying he did not know; but it was on his mind now to try and find out.