DESCRIBES A SECOND ENCOUNTER WITH MR. WADE
At a little after eight the next morning they were on their way
again. Nine hours of sound, refreshing slumber had worked a change.
Dan no longer held any grudge against the doctor, while Tom, cheered
and comforted by the biggest kind of a breakfast, was once more his
optimistic self. They had overwhelmed Mrs. Hooper with their gratitude,
had made friends with Brutus, a benevolent and toothless setter, and
had left the farmhouse with sentiments of regret. For, as Tom said,
who could tell when they would again find such coffee and such corn
muffins! Brutus had insisted upon accompanying them as far as the farm
limits, and had parted from them with tears in his eyes; at least, we
have Dan’s word for it. Nelson became philosophic.
“It just shows,” he said vaguely, “that you can’t always tell at first
what you’re up against. Some persons are like some dogs, their bark is
worse than their bite.”
“Sure,” agreed Dan. “Some persons haven’t any teeth.”
It was the jolliest sort of a September morning. Once or twice
they imagined they could catch glimpses of the ocean, sparkling and
sun-flecked in the distance. Whether they actually saw it or not, they
were constantly reminded of it by the fresh, salty breeze that caressed
their faces.
“Why can’t we go along the shore instead of here where we are?” asked
Nelson.
“That’s so,” cried Dan.
Bob produced his map, and they sat on the top rail of a fence and
studied it.
“After we leave Samoset,” said Bob, “we can turn down here and go
to Sisset. There must be a hotel there, and we can spend the night.
Then----”
“Maybe we can find a barn,” suggested Tom.
“Then in the morning we’ll go on to Seaville or some place along there.”
“But, look here,” objected Dan; “we’re a heap nearer the north shore
than we are the south.”
“Yes, but what we want is the real ocean,” said Bob. “We can come home
by the Sound shore.”
“Just as you say,” answered Dan. “Meanwhile, let’s get to Samoset
before dinner time.”
They reached that town at a little after ten o’clock, and found it
quite a lively place. There were two hotels, and although Tom held
out awhile for a comfortable barn, they finally decided to go to the
Fairview House and have dinner. After registering, they left their
packs in the office, washed and spruced up, and went out to see the
city. The main street was well lined with stores and well filled with
vehicles.
“This is the first thing we’ve struck,” declared Dan, “that looks like
a town. Let’s buy something.”
So they roamed from store to store, looking into every window, and
speculating on the desirability of the articles shown. Tom bought a
pound of peanut brittle which, on close examination, proved to be much
older than supposed. Tom declared disgustedly that it wasn’t what
it was cracked up to be, a pun that elicited only groans from his
companions. Bob purchased six souvenir post cards, and insisted on
returning to the hotel to address them. So the others accompanied him,
and, while he retired to the writing room, sat themselves down on the
top step in the sunlight and attacked Tom’s candy.
“Nothing like candy,” Dan declared, “to give a fellow an appetite for
dinner.”
“That may be true of some candy,” answered Nelson, “but----”
“Hello!” cried Dan excitedly. “Look there!”
The others followed the direction of his gaze, and saw a tired-looking
sorrel horse coming up the street, drawing a battered buggy, in which
sat a single occupant. The occupant was Mr. Abner Wade. The boys
watched eagerly. Opposite the hotel Mr. Wade drew up to the sidewalk,
jumped out, and tied the horse to a post. While doing so, he glanced
across and saw them. A smile spread itself over his features, and he
waved his hand.
“Howdy do?” he called.
“How are you, sir?” responded Dan cordially. Nelson and Tom glanced
about at him in surprise. “A nice morning, Mr. Wade.”
“Fine, fine!” agreed the farmer. “Well, you’re getting along, I see.”
“Yes, sir, thank you. And, by the way, we’re much obliged for that tip
you gave us. We called on Mr. Hooper, and spent the night there. We
were certainly treated well, and we’re very much obliged to you, sir,
for sending us there.”
Mr. Wade looked surprised.
“That so? Er--did you tell William I sent you?”
“Yes, indeed, and he couldn’t do too much to us--I mean for us,”
answered Dan gravely.
“Humph!” muttered Mr. Wade doubtfully. “Speak of me, did he?”
“Oh, yes, sir! Quite enthusiastically. And we fully agreed with
everything he said,” replied Dan genially.
Mr. Wade stared hard for a moment. Then:
“Well, I must be getting on,” he said. “Good luck to you.”
“Thank you, sir; the same to you. Hope you’ll have a pleasant trip
home.”
It is doubtful if Mr. Wade heard the latter part of the remark, for he
was entering the grocery store in front of which he had hitched. Dan
sprang up.
“You fellows stay here,” he said softly, “and watch for him. Don’t let
him out of your sight. I’ll be back in a minute.”
He hurried down the street and around a corner on which hung a
livery-stable sign. He was soon back.
“Still there?” he asked.
“Yes,” answered Nelson eagerly. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to get even with the old codger,” answered Dan grimly, as he
sat down again on the step.
“Where’d you go?” asked Tom.
“Livery stable. Borrowed a carriage wrench. There he comes!”
Mr. Wade issued from the grocery, cast a glance toward his horse, and
then turned up the street. They watched him until he had disappeared
into the bank, half a block away. Then Dan arose and, followed by
his companions, sauntered across the street. For a moment he glanced
carelessly in the grocery-store window. Then, quite as carelessly, he
sauntered over to the buggy. There, with Tom and Nelson in front of
him and apparently in earnest conversation, he drew the wrench from
his pocket and, unobserved, applied it to the nut of the front wheel.
Presently the trio sauntered along a few steps until Dan was beside the
back wheel. A moment later they walked slowly away down the street,
crossed and returned to the hotel. As he walked, from Dan’s jacket
pocket came a clanking sound as the steel wrench jostled a couple of
iron nuts. When they had regained the porch Dan’s look of innocence
gave place to a grin of delight and satisfaction.
“You watch for him. If he comes call me. I’m going to get Bob and our
knapsacks.”
“What do you want the knapsacks for?” asked Tom suspiciously.
“Because it’s more than likely that we’ll want to leave here in a
hurry, my son,” answered Dan gravely.
“Without our dinner?” cried Tom.
“What is dinner to revenge?” asked Dan sweetly.
“But--but--” stammered Tom.
“S-sh!” cautioned Dan. “Not a word above a whisker!”
“But look here, Dan,” said Nelson a bit anxiously, “aren’t you afraid
the old duffer’ll get hurt? Maybe the horse will run away!”
“Have you seen the horse?” asked Dan. “Now keep a watch up the street
and don’t forget to call me if he comes. I wouldn’t miss it for a
thousand dollars!”
“Just the same, I don’t quite like it,” said Nelson when Dan had
disappeared.
“And no dinner!” moaned Tom. “Why couldn’t we let the old idiot alone
until we’d had something to eat?”
Dan returned with the knapsacks and they awaited developments.
Presently Bob joined them, his hands bearing eloquent proof of his
recent occupation. They didn’t tell Bob what was up for fear he might
forbid them to go on with it. Ten minutes passed. The dinner gong rang
and Tom looked restlessly and mutinous.
“I’m going to have my dinner,” he muttered.
“All right,” answered Bob; “let’s go in.”
“Oh, just wait a minute,” begged Dan. “We’ll have more appetite if we
sit here awhile longer. By the way, we saw our old friend, Mr. Abner
Wade, awhile ago, Bob.”
“Yes, you did,” said Bob incredulously.
“Honest! That’s his horse and buggy over there now.”
Bob had to hear about it and ten minutes more passed. Then Tom mutinied
openly.
“I’m going to have my dinner,” he said doggedly. “I’m starved. You
fellows can sit here if you want to, but----”
“Here he comes!” cried Nelson softly.
Tom forgot his hunger, and the expression of rebellious dissatisfaction
on his countenance gave way to a look of pleasurable anticipation. Dan
and Nelson watched silently the approach of Mr. Abner Wade.
“Look here,” demanded Bob suspiciously, “what’s up, you chaps?”
There was no answer, for Mr. Wade was untying his sorrel steed. Tom
giggled hysterically. In climbed the farmer.
“Get ap,” he commanded, and the sorrel horse moved off leisurely. The
boys held their breath. Farther and farther away went Mr. Wade--and
nothing happened! Dan began to look uneasy. Tom’s pale gray eyes opened
wider and wider. And then, just when it seemed that the conspirators
were doomed to disappointment, Nemesis overtook Mr. Abner Wade.
Suddenly, without warning, the front wheel on the far side of the buggy
started off on its own hook and went rolling toward the sidewalk.
Reaching the curb, it toppled over and fell on to the foot of a
passer-by. The passer-by set up a cry of alarm--possibly of anguish. At
the next moment the rear wheel, indignant, perhaps, at the desertion
of its mate, lay down flat in the street. And simultaneously over went
the buggy and out slid Mr. Abner Wade. The sorrel horse, evincing no
alarm, stopped short in his tracks. And the crowd gathered, hiding the
astonished and wrathful face of Mr. Wade and stilling the cries of the
gentleman who had come in contact with the front wheel.
Over on the hotel porch four boys, doubled up with laughter, staggered
into the office, and, led by Dan, passed hurriedly out of a rear door.
And as they went, from the dining room came an appealing odor of
cooked viands. Out on the side street Dan dodged into a livery stable
and rejoined them quickly.
“Let’s go this way,” he gurgled. “I don’t know where it takes us to,
but----”
“Did you do that?” demanded Bob.
“Yes; wasn’t it rich? We didn’t tell you for fear you wouldn’t let us
do it.”
“You chump!” answered Bob. “Why, I’d have helped if you’d told me!”
“It was simply gu-gu-great!” stammered Tom. “Only--say, did you fellows
smell that dinner?”
“Yes, my son,” answered Dan, “but there’s no dinner for us just now. Us
for the broad highway!”
A few minutes later they had left the village behind and were passing
between rolling meadows. Dan took two small articles from his pocket
and shied them, one after another, into a cornfield.
“What were those?” asked Bob.
“Nuts,” answered Dan. “Nuts from the hubs of Abe’s chariot.”
“I suppose he can get more,” said Nelson regretfully.
“Yes, but it’ll take him some time, and they’ll charge him for them.
And I’ll bet that’ll nearly break his heart. Oh, he’s a great joker, is
Abe, but there are others!”
“Where’s this road taking us to?” asked Tom.
“I don’t know, but not toward Sisset, I’ll bet,” said Dan. “Pull out
that lying map of yours, Bob.”
But the map didn’t help much, since they didn’t know which of the
numerous roads they were traveling.
“Let’s see that old compass of yours, Tommy,” demanded Dan. “What’s the
matter with it? Say, it’s gone crazy!”
“Get out! You don’t know how to use it,” said Tom. “Give it here.” He
tapped it smartly on his knee, observed it gravely a moment, studied
the position of the sun, and then announced, “There! That’s north!”
“Then we’re going back home,” said Nelson discouragedly, “straight back
toward New York!”
“Pshaw! We can’t be,” said Bob. “Here, let’s see. Get out, you idiots,
you’re looking at the wrong end of the needle. There’s north and we’re
going northeast by east.”
“Ship ahoy!” murmured Dan. “Sail off the weather bow, sir.”
“Then if we keep on we’ll strike Barrington?” asked Tom.
“Yes, and that means a good hotel, Tommy, and a good dinner. It’s
rather a joke on us, though,” continued Bob. “We had decided to go to
the south shore, and here we are only three or four miles from the
Sound!”
“We’re not that far from water,” said Nelson, pointing to the map.
“Here’s Old Spring Harbor right forninst us here.”
“That’s right. Well, say, then we must be on this road here,” said Bob,
pointing. “If we are, we ought to strike a bridge pretty soon where we
cross this creek, or whatever it is.”
But their doubt was set at rest a moment later when a man in a dogcart
slowed down at their hail and gave them all the information they
desired.
“This is the Barrington road,” he said, “and Barrington station is
about two miles. The town is three miles from here, straight ahead.
There are several hotels there and lots of boarding houses.”
“That man’s a regular cyclopedia,” said Dan when the dogcart was out of
sight.
“He’s a bearer of good tidings,” said Tom thoughtfully.
A mile farther on hunger overcame Tom’s discretion and he partook of
some half-ripe apples, against the advice of the others. But although
the others viewed him apprehensively all the rest of the way, Tom
showed no ill effects, although he had to own up to an uneasiness. The
last two miles of the distance was in sight of the water, and once they
crossed a broad creek which farther inland widened into a small lake.
They rested there awhile and it was close on to four o’clock when,
tired and hungry and warm, they tramped into the town of Barrington and
sought the nearest hotel. Ten minutes later, after they had washed
up, Dan proposed going for a swim. Nelson and Bob consented, but Tom
was not to be persuaded. He sank into an armchair in the lobby in full
sight of a pair of folding doors which opened into the dining room.
“You fellows go ahead,” he said grimly. “I’m going to stay right here.”