THE OAK HALL CHUMS
“There they are!”
“This way, boys! Oak Hall to the front!”
A vestibule door to one of the cars had been opened and a porter had
come down the steps carrying three suit-cases. He was followed by three
young men, who waved their hands gayly at Dave and Roger.
“Here at last!” sang out Phil Lawrence, as he rushed forward to catch
our hero with one hand and the senator’s son with the other.
“Some city you fellows have here,” criticized Ben Basswood, with a broad
grin, as he waited for his turn to “pump handle” his friends.
“Say!” burst out the third new arrival, as he too came forward. “Calling
a little, dinky station like this a city puts me in mind of a story.
Once some travelers journeyed to the interior of Africa, and——”
“Hello! What do you know about that?” sang out Dave gayly. “Shadow has
started to tell a story before he even says ‘how-do-you-do’!”
“Why, Shadow!” remonstrated Roger in an apparently injured tone of
voice. “We heard that you had given up telling stories entirely.”
“Smoked herring! Who told you such a yarn as that?” burst out Phil.
“I don’t intend to give up telling stories,” announced Shadow Hamilton
calmly. “I’ve got a brand new lot; haven’t I, fellows? I bet Dave and
Roger never heard that one about the coal.”
“What about the coal, Shadow?” demanded Roger, shaking hands.
“Don’t ask him,” groaned Ben. “He’s told that story twenty-six times
since we left home.”
“You’re a base prevaricator, Ben Basswood!” roared the former
story-teller of Oak Hall. “I told that story just twice—once to you and
once to that drummer from Chicago. And he said he had never heard it
before, and that proves it’s a new story, because drummers hear
everything.”
“Well, that story has one advantage,” was Phil’s comment. “It’s short.”
“All right then, Shadow; let’s hear it. And then tell us all about
yourself,” said Dave quickly.
“It isn’t quite as much of a story as it’s a conundrum,” began Shadow
Hamilton. “Once a small boy who was very inquisitive went to his aunt in
the country and helped her hunt for eggs. Then he said he would like to
go down into the cellar. ‘Why do you want to go in the cellar, Freddy?’
asked the aunt. ‘I want to go down to look at the egg coal,’ announced
the little boy. ‘And then I want to see what kind of chickens lay it.’”
And at this little joke both Dave and Roger had to smile.
No other passengers had left the cars at this station, and now the long
train rumbled once more on its way. The station master had gone off to
look after some messages, so the former chums of Oak Hall were left
entirely to themselves.
“It’s a touch of old times to get together again, isn’t it?” cried Dave
gayly, as he placed one arm over Phil’s shoulder and the other arm
around Ben. “You can’t imagine how glad I am to see all of you.”
“I am sure the feeling is mutual, Dave,” answered Phil. “I’ve missed you
fellows dreadfully since we separated.”
“I sometimes wish we were all back at Oak Hall again,” sighed Ben. “My,
what good times we did have!”
“I guess you’ll be glad enough to reach Star Ranch, Phil,” went on Dave,
giving the ship-owner’s son a nudge in the ribs. “Probably Belle
Endicott will be waiting for you with open arms.”
“Sour grapes, Dave. I know where you’d like to be,” retorted Phil, his
face reddening. “You’d like to be in Crumville with Jessie Wadsworth—and
Roger would like to be in the same place, with your sister.”
“Have you fellows had your lunch?” questioned Roger, to change the
subject.
“Yes. When we found out that the train was going to be late, we went
into the dining-car as soon as it opened,” answered Ben. “How about
you?”
“We brought something along and ate it while we were waiting for you,”
said the senator’s son. “Come on, it’s quite a trip to the construction
camp. We came over on horseback, and we brought three horses for you
fellows.”
“Good enough!” cried Shadow. “But what are we going to do with our
suit-cases?”
“You’ll have to tie those on somehow,” announced Dave. “We brought
plenty of straps along.”
As the five chums got ready for the trip to the construction camp, Dave
and Roger were told of many things that had happened to the others
during the past few weeks. In return they told about themselves and the
encounter with Nick Jasniff.
“A mighty bad egg, that Jasniff,” was Phil’s comment.
“The worst ever,” added Shadow.
“Mr. Dunston Porter and the girls didn’t tell you half of the story
about those gypsies,” said Ben. “Those fellows tried to make all sorts
of trouble for us. They tried to prove that they had a right to camp on
that land, and my father and your uncle had to threaten them with the
law before they went away. Since that time several of the gypsies have
been in town, and they have made a number of threats to get square. That
old hag, Mother Domoza, is particularly wrathful. She insists that she
got the right to camp there as long as she pleased from some party who
used to own a part of the land.”
“Where are the gypsies hanging out now?” questioned Dave.
“Somebody told me they were camping on the edge of Coburntown.”
“You don’t say! That’s the place where I had so much trouble with the
storekeepers on account of Ward Porton’s buying so many things in my
name.”
“If I were living in Coburntown, I’d keep my eyes open for those
gypsies,” declared Ben. “I wouldn’t trust any of them any farther than I
could see them. Ever since they camped on the outskirts of Crumville
folks have suspected them of raiding hencoops and of other petty
thieving. They never caught them at it, so they couldn’t prove it. But
my father was sure in his own mind that they were guilty.”
“Yes, and I remember a year or so ago some of the gypsy women came
around our place to tell fortunes,” added Dave. “They went into the
kitchen to tell the fortunes of the cook and the up-stairs girl, and two
days later the folks found that two silver spoons and a gold
butter-knife were missing. We made some inquiries, but we never got any
satisfaction.”
“Looking for stuff like that is like looking for a needle in a
haystack,” was Phil’s comment.
“Oh, say! Speaking of a needle in a haystack puts me in mind of a
story,” burst out Shadow.
“What! another?” groaned Roger in mock dismay; and all of the others
present held up their hands as if in horror.
“This is just a little one,” pleaded the former story-teller of Oak
Hall. “A man once heard a lady speak about trying to find the needle in
the haystack. ‘Say, madam,’ said the man, very earnestly, ‘a needle in a
haystack wouldn’t be no good to nobody. If one of the animals got it in
his throat, it would ’most kill ’im.’”
“Wow!”
“Does anybody see the point?” questioned Roger.
“What do you mean—the point of the needle?” demanded Dave.
“If you had the eye you could see better,” suggested Ben.
“I don’t care, it’s a pretty good joke,” protested the story-teller.
“Hurrah! Shadow is stuck on the needle joke!” announced Dave. “Anyhow,
it would seem so.”
“Jumping tadpoles!” ejaculated Roger. “Boys, did you catch that?”
“Catch what?” asked Phil innocently.
“Phil wasn’t born a tailor, so maybe he never knew what it was to _seam
sew_ anything.”
“Whoop! I’ll pummel you for that!” roared the ship-owner’s son, and made
a sweep at Dave with his suit-case.
But the latter dodged, and the suit-case landed with a bang on Shadow’s
shoulder, sending the story-teller to the ground.
“Say, Phil Lawrence, you be careful!” cried the prostrate youth, as he
scrambled up. “What do you think I am—a punching-bag?”
“Ten thousand pardons, Shadow, and then some!” cried the ship-owner’s
son contritely. “I was aiming to put Dave in the hospital, that’s all.”
“Come on and get busy and let us be off to the camp,” broke in Roger.
“We’ll have plenty of time for horse-play later. We want to show you
fellows a whole lot of things.”
Dave insisted upon carrying one of the suit-cases, while Roger took
another. Soon all of the hand-baggage was securely fastened to the
saddles of the horses, and then the boys started on the journey to the
construction camp. They took their time, and numerous were the questions
asked and answered on the way.
“Yes, I’m doing first class in business with dad,” announced Phil. “We
are going to buy an interest in another line of ships, and dad says that
in another year he will put me at the head of our New York offices. Then
I’ll be a little nearer to Crumville than I was before.”
“I’m glad to hear of your success, Phil,” said Dave. “I don’t know of
any fellow who deserves it more than you do.”
“Sometimes I wish I had taken up civil engineering, just to be near you
and Roger,” went on the ship-owner’s son wistfully. “But then, I reckon
I wasn’t cut out for that sort of thing. I love the work I am at very
much.”
“I suppose some day, Phil, you’ll be settling down with Belle Endicott,”
went on our hero in a low tone of voice, so that the others could not
hear.
“I don’t know about that, Dave,” was the thoughtful answer. “Belle is a
splendid girl, and I know she thinks a good deal of me. But her father
is a very rich man, and she has a host of young fellows tagging after
her. There is one man out in Denver, who is almost old enough to be her
father, who has asked Mr. Endicott for her hand in marriage.”
“But Belle doesn’t want him, does she?”
“I don’t think so. But she teases me about him a good deal, and I must
confess I don’t like it. That’s one reason why I am going out to Star
Ranch.”
“Well, you fix it up, Phil—I know you can do it,” answered Dave
emphatically. “You know Jessie and Laura are writing to Belle
continually; and I know for a fact that Belle thinks more of you than
she does of anybody else.”
“I hope what you say is true, Dave,” answered the ship-owner’s son
wistfully.
Naturally a bright and energetic youth with no hesitation when it came
to business matters, Phil was woefully shy now that matters between
himself and the girl at Star Ranch had reached a crisis.
In their letters Dave and Roger had told their chums much about the
Mentor Construction Company and what it proposed to do in that section
of Montana. They had also written some details concerning the camp and
the persons to be met there, so that when the party came in sight of the
place the visitors felt fairly well at home. They were met by Frank
Andrews, who was speedily introduced to them, and were then taken to the
offices.
“I’m very glad to meet all of you,” said Mr. Obray, shaking hands at the
introduction. “Porter and Morr have told me all about you; and I’ve told
them to do what they can to make you feel at home during your stay.
There is only one thing I would like to caution you about,” went on the
manager, who occasionally liked to have his little joke. “Don’t under
any circumstances carry away any of our important engineering secrets
and give them to our rivals.”
“You can trust us on that point,” answered Phil readily. “All we expect
to carry away from here is the recollection of a grand good time.”
“Oh, say! That puts me in mind of a story,” burst out Shadow
enthusiastically. “Once a man——”
“Oh, Shadow!” remonstrated Roger.
“I hardly think Mr. Obray has time to listen to a story,” reminded Dave.
“Sure, I’ve got time to listen if the story isn’t a long one,” broke in
the manager.
“Well—er—it—er—isn’t so very much of a story,” answered Shadow lamely.
“It’s about a fellow who told his friends how he had been hunting
ostriches in Mexico.”
“Ostriches in Mexico!” repeated Mr. Obray doubtfully.
“Yes. A man told his friends that he had been hunting ostriches in
Mexico with great success. His friends swallowed the story for several
days, and then began to make an investigation. Then they went to the man
and said: ‘See here. You said you had been hunting ostriches in Mexico.
There are no ostriches there.’ ‘I know it,’ said the man calmly. ‘I
killed them all.’” And at this story the manager laughed heartily. Then
he dismissed the crowd, for he had much work ahead.
“A nice man to work for,” was Ben’s comment, when the visitors were
being shown to their quarters in the bunk-houses.
“As nice a man as ever lived, Ben,” answered Dave. “Roger and I couldn’t
have struck it better.”
“I know I’m going to enjoy myself here,” announced Shadow. “All of your
gang seem so pleasant.”
“And I want to learn something about civil engineering,” announced Ben.
“Maybe some day I’ll take it up myself.”