CHUNKY IN A PREDICAMENT
Tad got breakfast before any of the others awakened. Even Charlie
John was sleeping soundly after his two days and nights on the trail,
and it was not until Tad dropped the frying-pan that the Indian woke
up.
Tad nodded to Charlie to call the others. Ned and Walter got up
complaining at being disturbed. At breakfast it was decided that Tad
and Charlie should go into town to find out what trouble Stacy was
in, and the two started shortly after breakfast. The public house,
bearing a sign painted in yellow letters reading, "Mountain View
House," caught the glances of Charlie.
"Um git fat boy there."
"That is where we will go then," answered Tad, turning towards the
hotel. There were few persons on the streets of the little mountain
village, though later in the season many summer visitors would be
there, filling the hotel and the boarding houses, for Matungamook was
popular with many during the hot months of summer.
Tad entered the hotel. The only man he saw was the porter.
"I am looking for a young man named Brown--Stacy Brown--who came to
town with this guide after provisions. I understand he has fallen
into some trouble," said Tad.
"He belong to your outfit?" asked the porter, eyeing Tad with
impassive face.
"Yes, sir."
"I reckon he's the fellow Jed Whitman took in yesterday, ain't he?"
"I don't know who took him in. Who is Jed Whitman?"
"Game warden for this section."
"Oh! Why did he take Brown?"
"Violation of the game laws. He shot a moose down in Moquin Valley."
Tad Butler understood now. He had suspected the truth almost from
the beginning. Chunky had been talking again.
"Will you tell me where the jail is?"
"Jail? There ain't no jail here. I reckon Jed's got the younker
over to his house. He's waitin' for Squire Halliday to come back.
The squire's been down to Bangor, else they would have tried the
younker yesterday."
Tad was thankful for the business that had called the squire to
Bangor, and he hoped the justice would return in a pleasant frame
of mind.
"Will you tell me where Mr. Whitman lives?"
The porter stepped out into the street, and, pointing down to the
lower end, said:
"That yaller house on the right."
"Thank you," answered Tad, starting off.
"Charlie, do you understand now? They arrested Stacy for killing
that moose. The game warden has him at his house down yonder.
Master Stacy is not in jail at all. Now you run back to the camp and
tell Professor Zepplin. Tell him he had better come in and wait for
me at the hotel. I will meet him there in about an hour. Do you
understand?"
"Me know. Game warden git fat boy. Fat boy kill moose." Charlie
made a motion of drawing a knife across his throat.
"Yes. And the game warden has him at his home."
Charlie started off at a lope. Tad turned and continued on down the
street toward the yellow house, where he rang the bell. The door was
opened by a tall, raw-boned, keen-eyed man, who himself looked as
though he might be a mountain ranger.
"Is Mr. Whitman at home?" asked Tad politely.
"I'm Whitman. What you want?"
"I came to see if you had Stacy Brown here?"
"I reckon I have. Who be you?"
Butler introduced himself, at the same time stating that the rest of
their party was encamped about a mile from the village. He asked why
Stacy was being held, and was told what he already knew.
"How did you know that he had killed a moose?" asked Tad.
"Well, I reckon every feller in town knew about that before the
younker had been here half an hour," grinned the Warden.
Tad understood. No need to ask any more questions along that line.
"Is there any way in which this matter may be squared?" asked Tad.
"I reckon the only way is to wait for Squire Halliday's decision,"
answered Jed with a twinkle in his eyes.
"I didn't mean that I wanted to try to bribe you," laughed Tad, with
slightly heightened color. "I thought perhaps an explanation might be
all that was necessary."
"What is your explanation?"
Tad's bump of caution swelled. He declined to discuss the matter so
long as Stacy was to be brought before the justice. He asked if he
might see Chunky, and was told that the fat boy was asleep. Jed
offered, however, to wake the fat boy up, which he did. Chunky lost
no time when told that a boy named Butler was downstairs waiting to
see him.
"Chunky would sleep if the world were coming to an end," muttered
Tad.
The object of his thoughts bolted into the room only about half clad.
"Oh, Tad!" wailed Stacy. "I'm in an awful fix! I've got myself
arrested, all on account of that bull moose."
"No. On account of your talk. It's a pity you aren't tongue-tied
sometimes."
"Have you come to take me away?"
"I have come hoping to get you away."
"Wait till I get my coat and hat and I'll go with you."
"Perhaps you had better speak to Mr. Whitman about that first,"
suggested Butler.
Whitman shook his head.
"Can't let him go. He's in my charge until the justice disposes of
the case."
The fat boy's jaw fell perceptibly.
"What will the justice be likely to do with him?"
"How do I know?"
"What can he do if Mr. Brown is found guilty?"
"Send him to jail, or--"
"Oh, wow!" wailed Stacy.
"Fine him or discharge him. I've tried to make young Brown as
comfortable as possible, and we've had a pretty good visit, haven't
we, Stacy?"
"Ye--yes. You have been like a father to me, but--"
"But what?" twinkled Jed.
"But I'm held up."
"Yes, I reckon you are. I am sorry, Mr. Butler, but I couldn't help
it. When some folks came over and told me there was a fellow at the
Mountain View who had just killed a moose down Moquin way, I just
strolled over town to look into the matter. It didn't take me long
to find out what I wanted to know. I saw my duty clear and I did
it."
"What did he say?" asked Tad.
"Oh, he told me the whole story," smiled Jed.
"You bet I wouldn't if I had known who you were," retorted Stacy
indignantly. "That was taking a mean advantage of a fellow."
"Well, you weren't making much of a secret of the killing yourself,
it seemed to me."
Tad nodded at Stacy as much as to say, "You see what comes from
talking too much." Stacy lowered his gaze to the floor. His face
was very red.
"What time do you look for the justice to return?"
"Squire Halliday? He's home now. He will be at his office about
eight o'clock, I reckon. I'll take the young man right over. I
don't suppose you want to bail him out?"
"No," reflected Tad. "I think we will leave him with you for the
present."
Chunky bristled, but restrained himself, though he would have liked
to fall on Tad Butler and pummel him.
"There seems to be nothing more for me to do here, so I will go back
to my friends. I am sure we are very grateful to you for your
kindness to Mr. Brown, Mr. Whitman."
"Not at all. All in the line of my duty."
"By the way, where is the justice's office?"
"Next door beyond the hotel. You can't miss it. There's a sign on
the window near two feet high. But I'd advise you not to try to
monkey with the squire. He's touchy."
"I don't intend to monkey with the squire, thank you," answered Tad,
bowing himself from the room, followed by the big, staring eyes of
Stacy Brown.
Butler walked slowly towards the hotel where he was to meet the
Professor, and Tad's face wore a suppressed grin in spite of the
seriousness of the situation.
"I thought as much. Still, it isn't fair. He can't hold Chunky on
that. Why, the boy was defending himself. If he had told the truth
about the affair I am sure they never would have taken him. In all
probability he told Jed Whitman a tale of his own bravery and prowess
that simply forced that officer to take him in. Well, we shall see."
Professor Zepplin, with Rector and Walter Perkins, was already at the
hotel when Tad returned. The Professor was nervously stroking his
whiskers.
"Did you see him?" he demanded.
Butler nodded.
"I had a talk with him."
"Well, what about it?"
"I fear we shall not be able to do anything. The justice, Squire
Halliday, is a queer old fellow, I guess. There is no telling what
he may or may not do, but I think, after he hears the true story, he
will let Chunky go with a warning."
"It was on account of the moose?" asked Walter.
"Yes."
"Outrageous! Outrageous!" growled Professor Zepplin. "I'll wager
these Mainers don't let a moose get by them, open or closed season."
"I should think not," agreed Tad.
"Have you seen the justice?" asked Ned.
"I have not. Nor do I intend to until I see him in the courtroom,"
answered Butler. "I am not looking for more trouble. We have enough
on hand as it is."
"What time is the case to be called?" asked the Professor.
"Eight o'clock. It is seven o'clock now, so we have an hour to
wait."
"How is Stacy taking it?" asked Walter.
"About as usual. He is mad. I think he would try to fight the game
warden if he dared," smiled Butler.
"Then he is not locked up?" questioned the Professor.
"Oh, no. I should judge that he is being treated as a member of the
family. Mr. Whitman naturally doesn't want Stacy to get out of his
sight, now that he has detained him. Well, I'm going out for a walk.
Who is going with me?"
"I am," answered Ned promptly.
The two boys returned a few minutes before eight o'clock. Calling
for Walter and the Professor they strolled into the office of the
justice, where a dozen or more men of the village had already
gathered. These eyed the Pony Rider Boys with no little interest,
knowing who the boys were by this time, and pretty much everything
else about them that anyone in the Maine Woods did know.
The justice, a little, weazened, irritable fellow, came in shortly
afterwards. The boys eyed him inquiringly.
"I'd hate to have him sit in judgment on me," whispered Tad to Ned
Rector.
"So should I," agreed Ned.
Stacy Brown and Jed Whitman entered the courtroom at this moment,
Stacy big-eyed, glancing apprehensively about. His glances caught
sight of his friends. Then Stacy threw out his chest pompously. Even
though he was virtually a prisoner he felt a certain pride in the
thought that all this assemblage was on his account. Chunky walked
over and shook hands with his friends.
"Any word you want to send to the friends at home, in case they hang
you?" asked Ned.
"The judge won't do anything," answered the fat boy confidently.
"Anyway, I am going to send the story to the paper at home," declared
Ned.
"Don't you dare do anything of the sort. I'll thrash you, Ned
Rector, if you do that," threatened Stacy, his face very red.
"Where is the prisoner?" snapped the justice.
Whitman nodded towards Stacy.
"Bring him here! Why is he allowed to roam about the room at will?"
Jed beckoned to the fat boy, who walked over and sat down on a bench.
"Get up!" commanded the justice. "Now, Mr. Whitman, we will hear from
you."
In the squire's happy-go-lucky way of conducting the hearing, he did
not require Brown to testify under oath. It was a hearing typical
of the country districts.