Both Dave and Ben stared in astonishment at the son of the money-lender
of Crumville. Nat was highly indignant, but the reason for this was a
complete mystery to the other lads.
"Blacken your character?" repeated Dave. "Nat, what are you talking
about?"
"You know well enough."
"I do not."
"And I say you do!" blustered the bully. "You can't crawl out of it.
I've followed the thing up and I've got the evidence against you, and
against Roger Morr, too. I was going to speak to Doctor Clay about it,
but I know he'd side with you and smooth it over--he always does. But if
I tell my father, you'll find you have a different man to deal with!"
Nat spoke in a high-pitched voice that drew the attention of half a
dozen men and women in the car. Ben was greatly annoyed.
"Say, Nat, don't make a public exhibition of yourself," he said, in a
low tone. "If you've got anything against Dave, why don't you wait until
we are alone?"
"I don't have to wait," answered Nat, as loudly as ever. "I am going to
settle this thing right now."
Fortunately the train rolled up to the Junction depot at this moment and
everybody, including the boys, left the car. Several gazed curiously at
Dave and Nat, and, seeing this, Ben led the others to the end of the
platform. Here there was a freight room, just then deserted.
"Come on in here, and then, Nat, you can spout all you please," said
Ben.
"You ain't going to catch me in a corner!" cried the bully, in some
alarm.
"It isn't that, Nat. I don't want you to make a fool of yourself in
front of the whole crowd. See how everybody is staring at you."
"Humph! Let them stare," muttered the bully; yet he followed Ben and
Dave into the freight room, and Ben stood at the doorway, so that no
outsiders might come in. One boy tried to get in, thinking possibly to
see a fight, but Ben told him to "fly on, son," and the lad promptly
disappeared.
"Now then, Nat, tell me what you are driving at," said Dave, as calmly
as he could, for he saw that the money-lender's son was growing more
enraged every minute.
"I don't have to tell you, Dave Porter; you know all about it."
"I tell you I don't--I haven't the least idea what you are driving at."
"Maybe you'll deny that you were at Leesburgh last week."
"Leesburgh?"
"Yes, Leesburgh, at Sampson's Hotel, and at the Arcade moving-picture
and vaudeville show," and as he uttered the words Nat fairly glared into
the face of our hero.
"I haven't been near Leesburgh for several months--not since a crowd of
us went there to a football game."
"Humph! You expect me to believe that?"
"Believe it or not, it is true."
"You can't pull the wool over my eyes, Dave Porter! I know you were at
Leesburgh last week Wednesday, you and Roger Morr. And I know you went
to Sampson's Hotel and registered in my name and then cut up like a
rowdy there, in the pool-room, and got thrown out, and I know you and
Roger Morr went to the Arcade and made a fuss there, and got thrown out
again, but not until you had given my name and the name of Gus Plum. Gus
may forgive you for it, and think it only a joke. But I'll not do it, I
can tell you that! You have got to write a letter to the owner of that
hotel and to the theater manager and explain things, and you and Roger
Morr have got to beg my pardon. And if you don't, as I said before, I'll
tell my father and get him to have you arrested." And now Nat was so
excited he moved from one foot to the other and shook his fist in the
air.
To the bully's surprise Dave did not get excited. On the contrary, our
hero's face showed something that was akin to a faint smile. Ben saw it
and wondered at it.
"Say, you needn't laugh at me!" howled Nat, noting the look. "Before I
get through with you, you'll find it no laughing matter."
"I am not laughing at you, Nat."
"Well, do you admit that what I've said is true?"
"No; on the contrary, I say it is false, every word of it. Did you say
this happened last Wednesday?"
"I did."
"Both Roger Morr and I were at the school all day Wednesday. During the
day I attended all my classes, and after school I went to my room, along
with Polly Vane, Luke Watson, and Sam Day, and the three of us wrote on
the essays we had to hand in Thursday. After supper we went down to the
gym for about half an hour, and then went back to our dormitory. And,
come to think of it, you saw us there," added Dave suddenly.
"I saw you?"
"You certainly did. You came to the door and asked Luke Watson for a
Latin book; don't you remember? Luke got it out of his bureau. We were
all at the big table. Sam Day flipped a button at you and it hit you in
the chin."
At these unexpected words the face of the money-lender's son fell.
"Was that--er--was that Wednesday?" he faltered.
"It certainly was, for we had to hand the essays in Thursday and we were
all working like beavers on them."
"Nat, what Dave says is absolutely true--I know he wasn't near Leesburgh
last week, for I was with him every day and every evening," said Ben.
"But I got the word from some fellows in Leesburgh. They followed you
from the hotel to the show and talked to you afterwards, and they said
you told them your name was Porter, and the other chap said his name was
Morr. They said you gave the names of Poole and Plum just to keep your
real identity hidden."
"Well, I am not guilty, Nat; I give you my word of honor on it."
"But--but--if you aren't guilty how is it those fellows got your name and
that of Morr?" asked the money-lender's son, not knowing what else to
say.
"I think I can explain it, Nat. The same fellows who did that are
annoying me in other ways. But I'll not explain unless you will give me
your word of honor to keep it a secret, at least for the present."
"A secret, why?"
"Because I don't want the thing talked about in public. The more you
talk about such things the worse off you are. Let me tell you that I
have suffered more than you have, and other folks have suffered too."
"Do you mean to say that some other fellows did this and gave my name
and Plum's first and yours and Morr's afterwards?" asked Nat, curiously.
"Exactly."
"Why?"
"For a twofold reason; first to blacken your character and that of Plum,
and, secondly, to cause trouble between all of us."
"What fellows would be mean enough to do that?"
"Two fellows who used to be your friends, but who have had to run away,
to keep from being arrested."
"Say, you don't mean Link Merwell and Nick Jasniff!" burst out the
money-lender's son.
"Those are the chaps I do mean, Nat."
"But I thought they had left these parts. They were in Crumville, I
know," and now the bully looked knowingly at our hero.
"You have heard the reports from home then?" asked Dave, and he felt his
face burn.
"Sure."
"Nat, those reports are all false--as false as this report of your doings
at Leesburgh. They are gotten up by Jasniff and Merwell solely to injure
my friends and my family and me. My sister and Jessie Wadsworth would
refuse to even recognize those fellows, much less go auto-riding with
them. Let me tell you something." And in as few words as possible our
hero related how things had been sent to him and his friends without
being ordered by them, and of the other trouble Jasniff and Merwell were
causing. The money-lender's son was incredulous at first, but gradually
his face relaxed.
"And is all that really so?" he asked, at last.
"Every word is absolutely true," answered Dave.
"Then Nick and Link ought to be in jail!" burst out Nat. "It's an
outrage to let them do such things. Why don't you have 'em locked
up--that is what I'd do!"
"We've got to catch them first."
"Do you mean to say you are trying to do that?"
"We are."
"Well, you catch 'em, and if you want me to appear against 'em, I'll do
it--and I'll catch 'em myself if I can."
There was a pause, and Nat started for the doorway of the freight room.
But Ben still barred the way.
"Nat, don't you think you were rather hasty in accusing Dave?" he asked,
bluntly.
"Well--er--maybe I was," answered the money-lender's son, growing a bit
red.
"Oh, let it pass," said Dave. "I might have been worked up myself, if I
had been in Nat's place."
"Here comes the train--we don't want to miss it," cried the
money-lender's son, and he showed that he was glad to close the
interview. "Remember, if you catch those fellows, I'll testify against
'em!" he called over his shoulder as he pushed through the doorway.
"The same old Nat, never willing to acknowledge himself in the wrong,"
was Ben's comment, as he and Dave ran for the car steps. The other boy
had lost himself in the waiting crowd and got into another car, and they
did not see him again until Crumville was reached, and even then he did
not speak to them.
The snow was coming down lightly when Dave and Ben alighted, baggage and
bundles in hand, for they had not risked checking anything in such a
crowd. Ben's father was on hand to greet him, and close at hand stood
the Wadsworth family sleigh, with Laura and Jessie on the rear seat. The
driver came to take the suit-case and Dave's bundle, grinning a welcome
as he did so.
"There's Dave!" cried Jessie, as soon as he appeared. "Isn't he growing
tall!" she added.
"Yes," answered the sister. "Dave!" she called.
"Here we are again!" he cried with a bright smile, and shook hands. "I
brought you a snowstorm for a change."
"I like snow for Christmas," answered Jessie. She was blushing, for Dave
had given her hand an extra tight squeeze.
"How are the folks?"
"All very well," answered Laura. "What have you in that big bundle?"
"Oh, that's a secret, sis," he returned.
"Christmas presents!" cried the sister. "Jessie, let us open the bundle
right away." And she made a playful reach for it.
"Not to-day--that belongs to Santa Claus!" cried the brother, holding the
bundle out of reach. "My, but this town looks good to me!" he added, as
he looked around and waved his hand to Mr. Basswood. Then Ben took a
moment to run up and greet the girls.
"You must come over, Ben," said Laura.
"Why, yes, by all means," added Jessie, and Ben said he would. Then he
rejoined his father, and Dave got into the sleigh, being careful to keep
his big bundle on his lap, where the girls could not "poke a hole into
it to peek," as he put it. There was a flourish of the whip, and the
elegant turnout, with its well-matched black horses, started in the
direction of the Wadsworth mansion.