AT BAY
A queer-looking boy about eighteen years of age was proceeding slowly
down the pavement. He was stockily built, and had an unusually massive
head and great broad shoulders. He was a boy who would be remarked
about almost anywhere. His hair was long, and this gave him a somewhat
leonine aspect.
The hat of this boy was pushed far back on his head, and his eyes were
fixed and his attention apparently deeply absorbed upon an object he
held in his hand. This was a thin wooden rod with two cardboard wheels
attached to it. These he would blow, causing them to revolve rapidly.
Then he would study their gyrations critically, wait till they had run
down, and then repeat the maneuver.
His side coat pockets were bulging, one with a lot of papers. From the
other protruded what seemed to be a part of a toy, or some real
mechanical device having also wheels in its construction.
"Well, there's a queer make-up!" observed Clark in profound surprise.
"He is certainly eccentric in his appearance," said Ralph. "I wonder
who he can be."
"No, what he can be," corrected Clark, "for he's an odd genius of some
kind, I'll wager."
The object of their interest and curiosity had heard the derisive hail
from across the street. He halted dead short, stared around him like a
person abruptly aroused from a dream, traced the call to its source,
thrust the device with which he had been experimenting into his
pocket, and fixing his eyes on his mockers, started across the street.
The hoodlum crowd nudged one another, blinked, winked, and looked as
if expecting developments of some fun. The object of their derision
looked them over in a calculating fashion.
"Did any one here speak to me?" he asked.
"No, Wheels--it was the birdies calling you!" hooted a jocose voice.
"You sort of suggest something, somehow," drawled the lad in an
abstracted, groping way. "Yes, certainly, let me see. What is it? Ah,
perhaps I've made a memorandum of it."
The lad poked into several vest pockets. Finally he unearthed a card
which seemed to be all written over, and he ran his eye down this. The
crowd chuckled at the profound solemnity of his manner.
"H'm," observed the boy designated as "Wheels." "Let me see. 'Get
shoes mended.' No, that isn't it. I have such a bad memory. 'Order
some insulated wire.' No, that's for an uptown call. 'Buy Drummond on
Superheated Steam.' That's for the bookstore. Ah, here we have it.
'Kick Jim Scroggins.' Who's Jim? Aha! you young villain, I remember
you well enough now," and with an activity which could scarcely be
anticipated from so easy-going an individual, Wheels made a dive for a
big hulking fellow on the edge of the crowd. He chased him a few feet,
and planted a kick that lifted the yelling hoodlum a foot from the
ground. Then, calmly taking out a pencil, he crossed off the
memorandum--"Kick Jim Scroggins"--gave the crowd a warning glance, and
proceeded coolly down the sidewalk, resuming his occupation with the
contrivance he had placed in his pocket.
The gang of loafers had drawn back. A sight of the massive arms and
sledge hammer fists of the young giant they had derided, and his
prompt measures with one of their cronies, dissuaded them from any
warlike move.
"Whoop!" commented Clark in an exultant undertone, and he fairly
leaned against his companion in a paroxysm of uncontrollable laughter.
"Quick, nifty and entertaining, that! Say Engineer Fairbanks, I don't
know who that fellow Wheels is, but I'd be interested and proud to
make his acquaintance. Now steam up and air brake ready, while we pass
the crossing!"
"Passing the crossing," as Clark designated it, proved, however, to be
no difficult proceeding. The crowd of hoodlums had got a set-back from
the boy with the piston-rod arm, it seemed. They scanned Ralph and
Clark keenly as they passed by, but made no attempt to either hail or
halt them.
"We've run the gauntlet this time," remarked Clark. "Hello--four
times!"
The vigilant companion of the young engineer was glancing over his
shoulder as he made this sudden and forcible remark.
"Four times what?" inquired Ralph.
"That fireman of yours."
"Mr. Fogg?"
"Yes."
"What about him?"
"Say," replied Clark, edging close to Ralph, "just take a careless
backward look, will you? About half the square down on the opposite
side of the street you'll see Fogg."
"Why such caution and mystery?" propounded Ralph.
"I'll tell you later. See him?" inquired Clark, as Ralph followed out
the suggestion he had made.
Ralph nodded assentingly. He had made out Fogg as Clark had described.
The fireman was walking along in the direction they were proceeding.
There was something stealthy and sinister in the way in which he kept
close to the buildings lining the sidewalk.
"That's four times I've noticed Fogg in this vicinity this morning,"
reported Clark. "I discovered him opposite the lodging house when I
first came out this morning. When I came back he was skulking in an
open entry, next door. When we left the house together I saw him a
block away, standing behind a tree. Now he bobs up again."
"I can't understand his motive," said Ralph thoughtfully.
"I can," declared Clark with emphasis.
"What's your theory?"
"It's no theory at all, it's a dead certainty," insisted Clark. "Your
fireman and that gang of hoodlums hitch together in some way, you mark
my words. Well, let it slide for a bit. I'm hungry as a bear, and
here's the restaurant."
It was a neat and inviting place, and with appetizing zeal the two
boys entered and seated themselves at a table and gave their order for
wheat cakes with honey and prime country sausages. Just as the waiter
brought in the steaming meal, Clark, whose face was toward the street,
said:
"Fogg just passed by, and there goes the crowd of boys. I'm thinking
they'll give us a chance to settle our meal, Engineer Fairbanks!"
"All right," responded Ralph quietly, "if that's the first task of the
day, we'll be in trim to tackle it with this fine meal as a
foundation."
Their youthful, healthy appetites made a feast of the repast. Clark
doubled his order, and Ralph did full credit to all the things set
before him.
"I was thinking," he remarked, as they paid their checks at the
cashier's counter, "that we might put in the day looking around the
town."
"Why, yes," assented his companion approvingly, "that is, if you're
going to let me keep with you."
"Why not?" smiled Ralph. "You seem to think I may need a guardian."
"I've got nothing to do but put in the time, and get a signed voucher
from you that I did so in actual railroad service and in good
company," explained Clark. "I think I will go back to Stanley Junction
on your return run, if it can be arranged."
"It is arranged already, if you say so," said Ralph. "We seem to get
on together pretty well, and I'm glad to have you with me."
"Now, that's handsome, Engineer Fairbanks!" replied Clark. "There's
some moving picture shows in town here, open after ten o'clock, and
there's a mechanics' library with quite a museum of railroad
contrivances. We've got time to take it all in. Come on. Unless that
crowd stops us, we'll start the merry program rolling. No one in
sight," the youth continued, as they stepped into the street and he
glanced its length in both directions. "Have the enemy deserted the
field, or are they lying in ambush for us?"
They linked arms and sauntered down the pavement. They had proceeded
nearly two squares, when, passing an alley, both halted summarily.
"Hello! here's business, I guess," said Clark, and he and Ralph
scanned closely the group they had passed just before the breakfast
meal.
The hoodlum gang had suddenly appeared from the alleyway, and forming
a circle, surrounded them. There was an addition to their ranks. Ralph
noted this instantly. He was a rowdy-looking chunk of a fellow, and
the swing of his body, the look on his face and the expression in his
eyes showed that he delighted in thinking himself a "tough customer."
Backed by his comrades, who looked vicious and expectant, he marched
straight up to Ralph, who did not flinch a particle.
"You look like Fairbanks to me--Fairbanks, the engineer," he observed,
fixing a glance upon Ralph meant to dismay.
"Yes, that is my name," said Ralph quietly.
"Well," asserted the big fellow, "I've been looking for you, and I'm
going to whip the life out of you."