THE BUNCH FROM BELLPORT
Frank looked hastily around him to see that they were not observed.
Then he took the article which Lanky Wallace was holding out.
“Why, it’s a child’s little bonnet, Lanky!” he exclaimed.
“Glad to see you guess that at the start,” remarked the excited Lanky,
with a touch of humor in his voice.
“And the little one dropped this down to you; did she?” pursued Frank,
as he again thoughtfully examined the article of wearing apparel.
“Just what she did, Frank. Never said a single word, either; just gave
me a look I won’t soon forget. Reckon she’s frightened to death of that
old gypsy queen, and didn’t dare give a little peep. But, Frank, don’t
you see the poor little thing wanted me to understand something?”
“I think she did, Lanky,” replied the other, a serious look on his
face.
“It’s a child’s bonnet, just like you say, Frank; but tell me, do you
think for a single minute any gypsy child ever wore such a contraption
as that?”
“No, I don’t, for a fact, Lanky,” answered Frank, readily.
“Looks kinder expensive to me, even if it’s badly soiled right now; eh,
Frank?” continued the tall boy.
“Yes, you’re right, it was an expensive bonnet, Lanky. No poor person
could ever afford to buy such a thing for his little girl. It stands
for money. Now, the question comes, how did that bonnet ever get into
the hands of the little, dark-faced girl in the queen’s wagon; and what
did she want you to understand by dropping it before you?”
“Frank, honest to goodness now, don’t you see that it was a regular
mute appeal? Here was the only link that poor little thing had,
connecting her with the happy past, before she fell into the hands of
these rough gypsy rovers. Somehow it must have seemed to her that if
she ever could get back again to the ones who used to love her that
bonnet was going to do the trick!”
Lanky could hardly contain himself, he was so excited.
“I wonder now if that could be so?” mused Frank, still looking at the
delicate little article, made up chiefly of lace and silk, with a faded
blue ribbon fastened to it.
He examined it closely as though entertaining a faint hope that he
might discover some clue to the past. But in spite of his efforts
nothing resulted from his search.
“Well, what do you think, Frank?” demanded the impatient Lanky, after a
little time had elapsed, and he considered that his chum must have made
up his mind.
“Seems to me there’s only one thing you can do,” came the reply.
“Then tell me,” begged Lanky.
“You’ve got that clipping safe and sound, I hope?” asked Frank.
“Sure I have, and right here in my jeans now,” Lanky replied.
“Let me look over it again,” Frank remarked; and upon his chum pushing
the fragment of newspaper in his hand, he studied it as he walked on.
“I’m glad of one thing,” he remarked, presently, when Lanky thought he
could not stand the suspense much longer. “They give the gentleman’s
home address here, which is a lucky thing for us.”
“Chuck that, Frank, and tell me what you mean,” Lanky pleaded.
“Why, you’ve got to communicate with this Mr. Elverson right away,
and ask him if his little girl, who was carried away by a crazy or
revengeful nurse, months ago, wore a little bonnet made of lace and
silk, and decorated with a pale blue ribbon.”
“Wow! all that is going to take a few good plunks to pay the expense,
if you mean I must telegraph it!” exclaimed Lanky.
“I’ll help you out, if you’re short, and you ought to know that,” Frank
immediately declared; “and my father would back me to any extent, I’m
dead sure. This begins to look as though there might be something in
it; and if that child is being held there in that gypsy camp against
her will, she must be taken away from them.”
“Hurrah! that sounds good to me, Frank!” cried the delighted Lanky,
pleased beyond measure to learn that his cautious chum had finally
decided to come over to his side of the fence.
“And the sooner we go about that part of the business the better. I’ve
got some money with me, and if we need more I know where to go for it,
Lanky.”
“That’s the idea!” declared the tall lad; “nothing like striking while
the iron is hot, as we used to learn in our copybooks in school, when
we were kids. Let’s head for the station right now, then, Frank, and
see if we can’t hatch up a message that ought to give this Mr. Elverson
the shock of his life.”
Ten minutes later two boys, breathing hard from fast walking, appeared
at the little railroad station in Columbia, and asked for a bunch of
telegraph blanks.
“My! you must be going to keep me busy the rest of the morning,
boys!” remarked the young fellow who acted as ticket agent, express
representative and telegraph operator combined.
“Oh! we’ll let you have time to grab a bite of lunch, Conrad,” replied
Lanky, in his humorous fashion.
It took the boys about half an hour to concoct a satisfactory message.
They wanted to cover all the ground without wasting words; for
money did not grow on bushes, Lanky remarked, as he cut out several
adjectives that counted for little.
Lanky wanted to sign Frank’s name to the message, but the other refused
to allow it.
“This is your affair, and I’m not going to butt in,” he declared
positively. “And I only hope you reach the gentleman without delay, so
that you may have a reply soon.”
“What could delay it?” asked Lanky. “Seems to me that he’ll be just
wild to get in touch with us, if that bonnet is like the one his child
wore when the nurse lit out with her.”
“He might be away from home, you know, and they would have some
trouble in getting him,” Frank observed, for he knew his chum would
be bitterly disappointed if he did not hear from Mr. Elverson right
away; why, just as likely as not Lanky would lie awake half the night,
expecting to hear the telephone bell ring, and the voice of the night
operator at the station calling for him.
They had to look very mysterious when Conrad, the agent at the station,
having read the message, and counted the words, informed them it would
cost three dollars and a quarter; and then seemed to expect them to
tell him what was in the wind. For Frank had cautioned his rather
talkative chum not to breathe a word about it to a living soul until
they had heard from the gentleman.
“Now we’ve got the rest of the day before us,” said Frank, as they left
the station, arm in arm; “what are we going to do with it?”
“It’s about ten, now,” Lanky remarked, “and I reckon there’ll be quite
a squad of our fellows down at the athletic field, tryin’ every stunt
going; because, you see, lots of ’em believe they can qualify for the
broad jump, the shot-put, the hammer-throw, or even in the sprints. And
you’ll see some of the queerest athletic work ever if you come down
there right now.”
“I’ll go you, then, Lanky,” agreed Frank. “Besides, I heard someone
say there was going to be a big bunch from Bellport coming over to
watch, and see what our boys could do. You heard what happened in both
Clifford and Bellport, didn’t you, last night?”
“You mean when they got news about the fire at our school, and that
Columbia was going to get to-day off for a holiday, the trustees of
both the other high schools called meetings, and agreed to close up
shop for to-day, too. Mighty decent of them, I say, Frank.”
“Well, what else could they do?” the other went on to say. “The boys
who expect to enter the competition could claim that Columbia would
have a big advantage in an extra day for practice. Even now there’s
been some lively grumbling among some of the Bellport crowd, to the
effect that we’re favored in the way things are run.”
“Well, it isn’t so,” declared Lanky, indignantly. “There never was a
fairer arrangement when the three schools came to meet up with each
other. I kinder had an idea some of those Bellport fellows were in for
making trouble; and it wouldn’t surprise me a little bit, Frank, if
they started their racket to-day.”
“Oh, I hope not,” remarked Frank; “that would be too bad to have
Bellport on the outs with us. Their athletic captain, Cuthbert Lee, is
a square fellow, if ever one could be. But let’s put on a little speed,
and make for the field.”
About a mile from the border of Columbia lay the athletic field, that
had been given over to the boys of the town by some gentleman whose
heart remained young, even though his hair had taken on a silvery tint.
Here a grand-stand had been built, and there were several houses
where those who competed in the events could dress. There was even a
shower-bath, and numerous other appliances looking to the comfort of
Columbia boys; with a keeper to take charge of it all, and prevent
destruction of property.
Usually the Columbia people went to see the baseball and football
matches on foot, for the distance was not great. Crowds came from
Bellport and Clifford by way of boats on the river, or, in the case of
the former town, by using the trolley that connected the two places.
Some of the Columbia fellows who had boats were wont to use them, any
excuse to get on the water being eagerly seized upon, especially if
some of the girls were of the same mind.
And so, as Frank and Lanky drew near the big field, they seemed to
see young people moving in all directions, the vast majority of them
heading for the pleasure-ground; since it was known that many of
the boys would be practicing diligently, taking advantage of this
unexpected holiday.
“What did I tell you?” remarked Lanky, in an aside to his chum, as they
discovered a big bunch of high-school fellows, with blue bands around
their hats, coming from the direction of the trolley, and talking
boisterously.
“Some of the Bellport fellows, sure enough,” Frank replied; for he
recognized several familiar faces; and the blue ribbon told the story
by itself.
“Yes, and if you tried to pick out the loudest talkers in all Bellport
you’d be apt to find them in that crowd,” Lanky went on. “Honest Injun,
now, Frank, I wouldn’t be surprised if they had come over here to-day
just to josh our boys, and make trouble. Why, there might be a fight
before the day is done.”
“That would be too bad,” Frank said, looking serious at the very
thought. “We’ve always been on mighty good terms with Bellport, and for
one I’d hate to see any bad blood between the two schools. We’ll try
and warn our fellows not to pay too much attention to what they may
say. It takes two to make a quarrel, you know.”