DOCK GOES FROM BAD TO WORSE
Just at that instant, as luck would have it, a vagrant gust of wind,
perhaps an advance courier of the prospective storm, swooped down
across the road. Before the boy who was stooping over could touch the
paper that had attracted his attention it was whisked suddenly away.
He made an ineffectual effort to seize upon it in the air, but missed
it and had to stand there, while the paper floated far out over the
river, to fall finally on the moving current.
Carl quivered with another feeling besides anxiety and suspense; keen
disappointment was wringing his heart cruelly. Just when their clever
little plot seemed on the point of working, a freak of fate had dashed
his hopes to the ground.
He had the greatest difficulty in suppressing the cry that tried to
bubble from between his lips. Even Tom must have felt bitterly
chagrinned when he saw the paper go swirling off, without having had a
chance to test its ability to deceive Dock Phillips, and perhaps lead
him into confessing his guilt.
The grocer's boy was now walking on again. Of course he knew nothing
about the character of the elusive paper, save that it had played him a
little trick. They could hear him whistling again in his loud way as
though he had already forgotten the circumstance.
"Hang the luck!" complained Carl, when he felt that it was safe to let
a little of the compressed steam escape through the safety valve of his
voice.
"That was a rough deal, all right," admitted Tom. "Who would have
dreamed such a blast could sweep down and take that paper off? Too bad
you had all your work for nothing, Carl."
"Oh! the work didn't amount to much," said the other boy, despondently;
"but after hoping for such great things through our plan it's hard to
feel that you're up in the air as bad as ever."
"We might try it all over again some time, after Dock's kind of
forgotten about this happening," suggested Tom. "But if he kept on
seeing loose papers every little while he might get suspicious about
it. Perhaps we can think up another plan that will have the earmarks of
success about it."
"I never thought the river would play me such a trick," said Carl,
looking out on the moving water; "up to now I've had a sort of friendly
feeling for the old stream, but after this I'll be apt to look on it as
an unprincipled foe."
"Oh! I wouldn't say that," urged Tom, always practical; "the river
wasn't to blame at all. And that gust of wind would have come whether
we thought to place our bait on the road or not. I'd call it a piece of
hard luck, and let it go at that."
"We couldn't do anything, Tom, now our paper's gone off on the
current?"
"Oh well," replied the other purposely allowing himself to grow
humorous so as to cause Carl to forget the keen bitterness of his
disappointment; "perhaps if we went fishing to-morrow below here we
might take the trout that would have your paper tucked away in his
little tummy."
"That's right, Tom," the other added; "we've read some thrilling yarns
about jewels being recovered that way; and I remember that even a gold
watch was said to have been found, still running inside a fish after
many moons."
"Yes, they tried to explain that phenomenon in a lot of ways, but I
guess it must have been meant for a joke, just as my idea was."
"It's all over for to-night then?"
"Yes, let's go home," replied Tom. "We have lots to talk over and do,
too. Before long the exams will be coming on, and we want to pass with
honors if we expect to enjoy our vacation this summer."
"And it's pretty nearly decided I hear, that the Black Bear Patrol
takes a long hike the first thing after school closes," Carl was
saying, as they started down the river road into Lenox.
"Ten days in camp or knocking about will do more to make us seasoned
scouts than as many months at home," ventured Tom, knowingly.
"All the difference between theory and practice you mean," added Carl.
"On my own part I don't care how soon we get started. I've a whole lot
of things written down to be attended to, once we get away from
civilization. That long list Mr. Witherspoon gave me I've made up a
name for."
"What is it, then?" asked Tom.
"Things for a Tenderfoot Scout to Look for on His First Visit to the
Storehouse of Nature. What do you think of the title, Tom?"
"A pretty long one, it strikes me," answered the other; "but it covers
the ground. Every one of us must have a copy, and it'll be a lot of fun
to find out who'll be the first to answer all those questions."
"One thing I hope will happen before we start out on that hike," said
Carl.
"Of course you're referring to that paper again, and I don't blame you
a bit. We'll do our level best to get hold of it before then," and
trying as well as he knew how to buoy up the drooping spirits of the
disappointed chum Tom locked arms with him, and in this fashion they
walked home.
The days again drifted along into weeks.
Scout matters were looking up decidedly in Lenox. There was even some
talk of a second rival organization among another set of boys, though
Mr. Witherspoon gave it as his opinion that nothing could ever be done
with such a wild crowd.
"There isn't a single one among them, from what I hear and know, who
could comply with the requirements every scout is expected to have as
an asset when he makes application," was the way he put it. "Those boys
couldn't subscribe to any of the rules which govern scouts in their
daily life. They'd have to turn over a new leaf for a fact before they
could don the khaki."
"And," said Josh Kingsley, "when such tough fellows as Tony Pollock,
Asa Green, Wedge McGuffey and Dock Phillips start to turning leaves you
can begin to see angel wings sprouting back of their shoulder blades."
There were already five boys who had given in their names to make up a
second patrol. When it was filled they meant to join the troop, and
qualify for a better standing than greenhorns or tenderfeet.
Larry Henderson had long since gone back to his wilderness home beyond
Bear Mountain. Twice had Tom received a letter from the old naturalist,
in which he asked a great many questions, all concerning the boys of
Lenox, in whom he had not lost interest, and what progress the new
troop was making.
He also expressed a hearty wish that should they ever take a trip
through the section of country where he lived they would not neglect to
look him up in his cabin.
One thing Tom and Carl had noticed of late, and this was that Dock
Phillips had taken to going with that tough crowd again. For a while
his work in the grocery store had tired him so much each day that when
evening came he had been content to go to his home, eat his supper, and
then crawl in between the sheets.
Once more Dock was to be seen hanging around the street corners late at
night with that group of rowdies that gave the uniformed force so much
trouble. Some of them only escaped arrest on numerous occasions because
their fathers happened to be local politicians whom the police did not
wish to offend.
Tom and Carl talked this fact over and arrived at a conclusion, which
may, and again may not, have been the true explanation.
"Dock's getting tired of holding down his job," Tom had said, "He's
been out of school so long now that he can't be sent back; and he
doesn't like hard work either. Since his father signed the pledge he's
been working steadily enough, and perhaps Dock gets into trouble at
home because of his temper."
"I happen to know he does for a fact," assented Carl. "He's been acting
hateful, staying out up to midnight every night, and his father has
threatened to pitch him out. I rather think he's lazy, and wants to
loaf."
"Perhaps he thinks that he ought to be drawing a regular salary because
of that paper he's got hidden away, and which is worth so much to Amasa
Culpepper, as well as to you. To keep him quiet it may be, the old man
is paying him a few dollars every week on the sly, even though he
refuses to come down with a big lump sum."
"Tom, would it be right for me to have another talk with Dock, and make
him an offer?" ventured Carl, hesitatingly.
"Do you mean try to find out what the sum is he asked Amasa to pay
him?" questioned Tom; "and agree to hand it over to him just as soon as
the stock of the oil well company can be sold, after your mother gets
it again?"
"Yes, like that. Would it be wrong in me? anything like compounding a
felony?" Carl continued.
"I don't see how that could be wrong," the other boy answered, after
stopping to think it all over. "You have a right to offer a reward and
no questions asked for the return of your own lost or stolen property."
"Then I'd like to try it before we settle on leaving town, Tom."
"It would do no harm, I should think," his chum advised him. "The only
danger I can see would be if Dock took the alarm and went to Mr.
Culpepper, to tell him you were trying to outbid him for the possession
of the paper."
"That would be apt to make him come to time with a jump, wouldn't it?"
said Carl.
"Unless he got it into his head that Dock was only trying to frighten
him into meeting the stiff price at which he held the paper," said Tom.
"He might make out that he didn't care a pin, with the idea of forcing
Dock to come down."
"Yes, because he would believe Dock wouldn't dare put his neck in the
noose by confessing to us he had stolen the paper. Then would you
advise me to try the plan I spoke of?"
"If you get a good chance I should say yes."
That was on a Wednesday afternoon, and Carl went home, his head filled
with a programme he had laid out that concerned the cornering of Dock
Phillips.
On Thursday he learned, when home for lunch, that a new boy had come
for orders from the grocery. Carl was immediately filled with alarm. In
imagination he could see Dock and Mr. Culpepper coming to terms at
last.
After school that afternoon he waited for Tom, to whom the startling
news was disclosed. The stunning effect of it did not seem to affect
Tom's quick acting mind.
"Let's find out just what's happened," he remarked. "Perhaps over at
Joslyn's, next door to the Phillips's, we might pick up a clue."
"Yes, and I know Mrs. Joslyn right well in the bargain," said Carl,
showing interest at once. "I'm sure that if I told her as a secret just
why we wanted to know about Dock she'd tell me if anything had happened
there lately."
To the Joslyn house the two boys went. Mrs. Joslyn was an energetic
little woman, and said to be able to mind her own business.
She listened with growing eagerness to the story, and at its conclusion
said:
"I'm sorry for your mother, Carl, and I don't know that I can help you
any; but there was something strange that happened at the Phillips'
house last night."