HIS FATHER'S FAILURE
Bronson's action in standing treat for Buttons and his crowd did much
to establish him in their good graces, and the lads soon became better
acquainted.
"I say, have you picked out your boarding-place, Clothespin?" Soda
asked presently. "If you haven't, we may be able to save you getting
into one of the 'Old Ladies' Homes.'"
"That's the Baxter name for several boarding-houses managed by elderly
maiden ladies," explained Fred. "They----"
But he was interrupted by Soda's announcement:
"The lunacy commission will now consider the sad case of Fred Markham,
star athlete of the Second Form, who is so far out of his head as to
call the harpies that collect the rent and dish out the prunes at the
'Old Ladies' Homes' _maiden ladies_. It----"
"I realize that all sense of politeness and respect for your elders
is lacking in you, Soda," broke in Fred, "but you must remember that
Bronson has been accustomed to associating with well-bred people."
This retort, interpreted in the spirit in which it was uttered, evoked
howls of delight from all but the victim of Fred's sarcasm, and Shorty
expressed their sentiments by saying:
"That ought to hold you for some time, Soda. Now, don't begin to talk
back. Remember, children should be seen and not heard."
"Your conversation may be edifying, but it is not enlightening as to a
boarding-house for Bronson," retorted Soda.
"I am deeply moved by your kind consideration of my welfare," smiled
Bronson, "and I thank you heartily. But that I may save you further
bother, I will tell you I have already arranged for quarters."
"Bet you're stung," declared Shorty, while the others chorused: "Where?"
"With Mr. Vining."
"The Head?" gasped the boys, flashing significant glances to one
another, the rising inflection of their voices proclaiming their
incredulity.
"Yes, he is an old friend of my family."
"Take me by the hand, somebody, and lead me away," groaned Soda. "Here
we invited Bronson to a party at the Witches' Pool, and he lives with
the Head."
Though the words were spoken in jest, the expressions on the boys'
faces showed that they were wondering whether or not their new Form
member would prove a spoil-sport.
Divining their thoughts, Bronson hastened to say:
"I hope the fact that I live with Mr. Vining will make no difference in
our relations. It was arranged between mother and him that I should not
be quizzed, no matter what happens at school."
"My eye! I wish I could live with the Head," lamented Shorty. "I
was quizzed by either him or Gumshoe regularly once a week--if not
oftener--all last year."
"We'll petition him to adopt you," cried Soda. "Who'll sign?"
But before the suggestion could be carried out, the blowing of a noon
whistle sent the boys to their respective homes for dinner.
The fun with the cheese, and the escape from the Firsts, had distracted
Fred's mind from the unpleasant events attendant upon his arrival at
school, but as he approached his unpretentious but comfortable home,
his rival's remarks recurred to him. Consequently it was a very sober
boy who entered the dining room of the Markham homestead.
Instantly realizing that her son's quietness--in striking contrast to
his usual good spirits--betokened something serious, Mrs. Markham was
about to ask the cause when Fred forestalled her by inquiring:
"Where's father?"
"He's gone to Manchester."
"Why?"
It was the hope of both Mr. and Mrs. Markham that they might keep the
full import of the failure from Fred, and in accordance with the plan
agreed upon between husband and wife when the former set out on his
trip--taken in reality to obtain a position--the woman replied:
"Your father has gone on business, Fred." And then, in an effort to
divert his mind from such dangerous ground, she continued: "How did
school start? Are there any new boys in your Form?"
Fred, however, was not turned so easily from his object, and, without
reply to his mother's questions, said:
"But if he has failed, I don't see how he has any business."
Realizing that her attempt to change the conversation was futile, Mrs.
Markham replied:
"He has gone to obtain a position, if possible."
This information appeared to Fred partially to confirm what his rival
had said, and it was with a very shaky voice he murmured:
"I'm sorry he went without talking to me."
During this conversation, neither mother nor son had more than tasted
the delicious dinner that was growing cold on the table before them,
and in one more attempt to divert Fred's thoughts, Mrs. Markham said:
"You will never make your football team if you don't eat."
The words suggested to Fred that he could not afford to sacrifice any
strength for his bout with Bart Montgomery by abstaining from food,
and, though it was with little relish, he ate his dinner.
When finished, he returned to his questioning, almost taking his
mother's breath away by asking:
"Did father make money by his failure?"
An instant Mrs. Markham was too amazed to speak. Then, quickly
recovering herself, she replied indignantly:
"No, indeed! Who put such an idea into your head?"
"Bart Montgomery."
Suppressing the groan this reply brought to her lips, for she was well
aware of the Montgomery family's pride and trouble-stirring tongues,
intuitively her mother's heart felt all her son would be made to suffer
by his rich Form mate, and, desirous of knowing the worst, Mrs. Markham
asked:
"What did that bully say?"
"He said father failed dishonestly, that his father was the principal
creditor, so he ought to know."
"The contemptible brute! Do you suppose if your father had made money
by his failure he would now be trying to find a position in order to
earn money with which to support us. Fred, your father is an honest
man--which is more than Bart Montgomery's mother can say about his
father, with all his wealth!"
"Hooray for you, mother! I wish I'd thought of that to say to Bart this
morning," exclaimed Fred. "But I'll say it the next time I see him."
Mrs. Markham's anger at the imputation her husband was dishonest had
carried her beyond the bounds of her customary caution, and, regretting
her indiscretion, she shook her head.
"You mustn't do anything of the sort, Fred. Promise me you won't."
"Why?" he demanded, surprised at this sudden change in his mother,
without replying to her request.
"Because it will only make it harder for your father."
"How?"
For several minutes Mrs. Markham was silent, evidently considering
whether or not the time had come when Fred should be told all the
ramifications of the failure. Finally deciding such a course would be
the wisest, she parried:
"If I tell you, will you promise not to make that remark to Bart?"
"I won't do so if it will hurt father."
This answer seeming satisfactory, Mrs. Markham said:
"Being business, there are some points I don't understand myself. But I
know enough to give you a general idea.
"When your father started his automobile supply business, he was
obliged to borrow some money for which he gave notes.
"People all said your father would not succeed. But when he did,
several of them grew jealous, and strove to make trouble for him by
buying up his notes.
"Mr. Montgomery heard about it, and, coming to your father, offered him
enough funds to pay off the notes, agreeing to accept interest and let
your father pay off the principle as he could.
"Believing the offer made in good faith, your father gratefully
accepted it. But it was not long before he discovered he was mistaken.
"Mrs. Montgomery has a sister who married Charles Gibbs. Being eager
to have her sister with her in Baxter, she asked her husband to start
Mr. Gibbs in business.
"Seeing your father's success, Mr. Montgomery decided to ruin your
father and set up his brother-in-law in the automobile supply business.
"Accordingly, he came to your father and told him he was sorry but he
must have his money. Your father protested, but Mr. Montgomery was firm.
"In despair your father tried to obtain money from the banks in nearby
towns, but, when inquiry was made, Mr. Montgomery said your father had
obtained the loan from him by misrepresentation and the banks refused
to lend."
"The sneak!" flashed Fred, his hands clenching as he thought of such
treachery to his father.
"As a last resort, your father tried to mortgage our house, but when
his title to the property was examined, it was found there was some
flaw in the deed.
"Your father insisted some one had tampered with the records, but to no
avail.
"Refused money on all sides, there was nothing left for him to do and
he was forced into bankruptcy."
In silence Fred digested the story for several minutes.
"I don't see how they can call father dishonest for that. He certainly
wouldn't change the deed," he said finally.
"That is the part I don't understand. They said your father had some
money on deposit in the Baxter National Bank, which had been withdrawn
before Mr. Montgomery could attach it."
"They mean father is hiding this money?"
"Yes."
"But why shouldn't he withdraw it?"
"The law says a bankrupt must not dispose of nor conceal any property
from his creditors."
"What does father say?"
"That he never signed the check on which the money was paid."
"Then he never did!" asserted Fred emphatically. "I'll bet Charles
Gibbs and Thomas Montgomery are mixed up both in the deed and the check
transaction."
"Hush, dear, you mustn't say such things! Both your father and I
believe as you do, but Mr. Montgomery is so powerful we can do nothing,
unless we have absolute proof," exclaimed Mrs. Markham, looking
anxiously about in fear that some one might have entered and heard the
remark.
"Don't worry, mother," exclaimed Fred, jumping from his chair and
running to her, as he saw the tears fall on her cheek when she finished
the story, "I'll get the proof!"