A GLOOMY PROSPECT FOR JUD
"It's Jud Mabley!" exclaimed one of the scouts, instantly recognizing
the face of the unlucky youth who had fallen part way through the
window.
Jud was a boy of bad habits. He had applied to the scouts for
membership, but had not been admitted on account of his unsavory
reputation. Smarting under this sting Jud had turned to Hank Lawson
and his crowd for sympathy, and was known to be hand-in-glove with
those young rowdies.
"He's been spying on us, that's what!" cried Bobolink, indignantly.
"And learning our plans, like as not!" added Tom Betts.
"He ought to be caught and ridden on a rail!" exclaimed a third member
of the troop, filled with anger.
"I'd say duck him in the river after cutting a hole in the ice!"
called out another boy, furiously.
"Huh! first ketch your rabbit before you start cookin' him!" laughed
Jud in a jeering fashion, as he waved them a mocking adieu through the
broken window, and then vanished from view.
"After him, fellows!" shouted the impetuous Bobolink, and there was a
hasty rush for the door, the boys snatching up their hats as they
ran.
Paul was with the rest, not that he cared particularly about catching
the eavesdropper, but he wanted to be on hand in case the rest of the
scouts overtook Jud; for Paul held the reputation of the troop dear,
and would not have the scouts sully their honor by a mean act.
The boys poured out of the meeting-place in a stream. The bright moon
showed them a running figure which they judged must of course be Jud;
so away they sprang in hot pursuit.
Somehow, it struck them that Jud was not running as swiftly as might
be expected, for he had often proved himself a speedy contestant on
the cinder path. He seemed to wabble more or less, and looked back
over his shoulder many times.
Bobolink suspected there might be some sort of trick connected with
this action on the part of the other, for Jud was known to be a
schemer.
"Jack, he may be drawing us into a trap of some sort, don't you
think?" he managed to gasp as he ran at the side of the other.
Apparently Jack, too, had noticed the queer actions of the fugitive.
He had seen a mother rabbit pretend to be lame when seeking to draw
enemies away from the place where her young ones lay hidden; yes, and
a partridge often did the same thing, as he well knew.
"I was noticing that, Bobolink," he told the other, "but it strikes me
Jud must have been hurt somehow when he crashed through that window."
"You mean he feels more or less weak, do you?"
"Something like that," came the reply.
"Well, we're coming up on him like fun, anyway, no matter what the
cause may be!" Bobolink declared, and then found it necessary to stop
talking if he wanted to keep in the van with several of the swiftest
runners among the scouts.
It was true that they were rapidly overtaking Jud, who ran in a
strange zigzag fashion like one who was dizzy. He kept up until the
leaders among his pursuers came alongside; then he stopped short, and,
panting for breath, squared off, striking viciously at them.
Jack and two other scouts closed in on him, regardless of blows, and
Jud was made a prisoner. He ceased struggling when he found it could
avail him nothing, but glared at his captors as an Indian warrior
might have done.
"Huh! think you're smart, don't you, overhaulin' me so easy," he told
them disdainfully. "But if I hadn't been knocked dizzy when I fell you
never would a got me. Now what're you meanin' to do about it? Ain't a
feller got a right to walk the public streets of this here town
without bein' grabbed by a pack of cowards in soldier suits, and
treated rough-house way?"
"That doesn't go with us, Jud Mabley," said Bobolink, indignantly.
"You were playing the spy on us, you know it, trying to listen to all
we were saying."
"So as to tell that Lawson crowd, and get them to start some mean
trick on us in the bargain," added Tom Betts.
"O-ho! ain't a feller a right to stop alongside of a church to strike
a match for his pipe?" jeered the prisoner, defiantly. "How was I to
know your crowd was inside there? The streets are free to any one,
man, woman or boy, I take it."
"How about the broken window, Jud?" demanded Bobolink, triumphantly.
"Yes! did you smash that pane of glass when you threw your match away,
Jud," asked another boy, with a laugh.
"He was caught in the act, fellows," asserted Frank Savage, "and the
next question with us is what ought we to do to punish a sneak and a
spy?"
"I said it before--ride him on a rail around town so people can see
how scouts stand up for their own rights!" came a voice from the group
of excited boys.
"Oh! that would be letting him off too easy," Tom Betts affirmed.
"'Twould serve him just about right if we ducked him a few times in
the river."
"All we need is an axe to cut a hole through the ice," another lad
went on to say, showing that the suggestion rather caught his fancy as
the appropriate thing to do--making the punishment fit the crime, as
it were.
"Keep it goin'," sneered the defiant Jud, not showing any signs of
quailing under this bombardment. "Try and think up a few more pleasant
things to do to me. If you reckon you c'n make me show the white
feather you've got another guess comin', I want you to know. I'm true
grit, I am!"
"You may be singing out of the other side of your mouth, Jud Mabley,
before we're through with you," threatened Curly Baxter.
"Mebbe now you might think to get a hemp rope and try hangin' me,"
laughed the prisoner in an offensive manner. "That's what they do to
spies, you know, in the army. Yes, and I know of a beauty of a limb
that stands straight out from the body of the tree 'bout ten feet
from the ground. Shall I tell you where it lies?"
This sort of defiant talk was causing more of the scouts to become
angry. It seemed to them like adding insult to injury. Here this
fellow had spied upon their meeting, possibly learned all about the
plans they were forming for the midwinter holidays, and then finally
had the misfortune to fall and smash one of the window panes, which
would, of course, have to be made good by the scouts, as they were
under heavy obligations to the trustees of the church for favors
received.
"A mean fellow like you, Jud Mabley," asserted Joe Clausin, "deserves
the worst sort of punishment that could be managed. Why, it would
about serve you right if you got a lovely coat of tar and feathers
to-night."
Jud seemed to shrink a little at hearing that.
"You wouldn't dare try such a game as that," he told them, with a
faint note of fear in his voice. "Every one of you'd have to pay for
it before the law. Some things might pass, but that's goin' it too
strong. My dad'd have you locked up in the town cooler if I came home
lookin' like a bird, sure he would."
Jud's father was something of a local power in politics, so that the
boy's boast was not without more or less force. Some of the scouts may
have considered this; at any rate, one of them now broke out with:
"A ducking ought to be a good enough punishment for this chap, I
should say; so, fellows, let's start in to give it to him."
"I know where I can lay hands on an axe all right, to chop a hole
through the ice," asserted Bobolink, eagerly.
"Then we appoint you a committee of one to supply the necessary tools
for the joyous occasion," Red Collins cried out, gleefully falling in
with the scheme.
"Hold on, boys, don't you think it would be enough if Jud made an
apology to us, and promised not to breathe a word of what he chanced
to hear?"
It was Horace Poole who said this, for he often proved to be the
possessor of a tender heart and a forgiving spirit. His mild
proposition was laughed down on the spot.
"Much he'd care what he promised us, if only we let him go scot free,"
jeered one scout. "I've known him to give his solemn word before now,
and break it when he felt like it. I wouldn't trust him out of my
sight. Promises count for nothing with one of Jud Mabley's stamp."
"How about that, Jud?" demanded another boy. "Would you agree to keep
your lips buttoned up, and not tell a word of what you have heard?"
"I ain't promisin' nothin', I want you to know," replied the prisoner,
boldly; "so go on with your funny business. You won't ketch me
squealing worth a cent. Honest to goodness now I half b'lieve it's all
a big bluff. Let's see you do your worst."
"Drag him along to the river bank, fellows, and I'll join you there
with the axe," roared Bobolink, now fully aroused by the obstinate
manner of the captive.
"Wait a bit, fellows."
It was Jack Stormways who said this, and even the impetuous Bobolink
came to a halt.
"Go on Jack. What's your plan?" demanded one of the group.
"I was only going to remind you that in the absence of Mr. Gordon,
Paul is acting as scout-master, and before you do anything that may
reflect upon the good name of Stanhope Troop you'd better listen to
what he's got to say on the subject."