THE THREE CHUMS
Angry shouts arose all around. There were few who knew what had
happened; only that Frank had been struck in some way. Lef Seller did
not have many friends in Columbia High School, or the town itself, for
that matter. He had made himself generally disliked; and when the word
went around that it was his hockey stick that had, in a backward swing,
struck Frank on the head and knocked him down, the murmurs of the crowd
began to take on an ugly turn.
Of course the referee immediately ended the game. There was something
else at that moment demanding attention.
"Keep back! The ice is cracking! Go back, or we'll all fall in!"
shouted Lanky Wallace, waving his hands wildly, as he saw dozens start
to leave the bank and hurry toward the group around the fallen lad.
His words were taken up by others.
"Keep away! It's dangerous to crowd on the ice! Frank's all right! He's
getting up again! It's nothing serious, only a little accident!" they
shouted, starting to hustle the squads of sightseers back.
The alarm having been given, numerous groups immediately turned back to
the firm footing of the shore. Harrapin River had a swift current in
places, and more than one skater had had a narrow escape from drowning
in years gone by.
Frank was again on his feet, somewhat dizzy, but trying to appear just
the same as before. He had received quite a hard blow on the head, as a
lump proved; but could not even give a guess as to what had hit him.
Lef had not attempted to run away. He knew better. That must have
proven him guilty of an intentional design to do Frank injury. He would
have been mobbed before he had gone fifty feet.
So he hovered near the group, looking depressed as though he felt
mortified to know it had all been his fault. Lanky, watching him
closely, had difficulty in persuading himself that there was a trace of
genuine regret in the mind of the other. He even fancied he could see
the glitter of secret pleasure in those green eyes of the fellow, and
believed Lef must be laughing in his sleeve.
"I hope you don't think I did that on purpose, Allen?" Lef exclaimed,
pushing himself into the group as Ralph and Paul were examining the
head of their friend to ascertain the extent of the damages.
Frank had been laughing as he assured his friends that he was all
right. At the sound of the hateful voice of Lef the smile vanished from
his face. Turning, he looked for almost half a minute squarely into
the face of the other. Everyone held his breath, believing that the
long-expected rupture between these two was about to break loose, and
that in another minute they would be fighting it out then and there.
It was a mistake, for Frank deliberately turned his back upon Lef,
who was standing there in an humble attitude, strangely unnatural
for him. He had seen the same glitter in those half-veiled eyes that
had appeared to Lanky. It told Frank that the blow had not only been
intentional, but carefully planned. Still, he had not an atom of proof.
Cunning Lef generally fixed it that way.
A dozen boys shouted as Frank thus showed his utter contempt for the
other. As for Lef himself, he would really have preferred an open
defiance to this expression of disdain.
"Oh! well, have it just as you like, Frank Allen," he muttered, with a
shrug of his shoulders; "if it was one of your chums you'd be only too
willing to call it an accident, and let it go at that. But everything
that Lef Sellers does is a crime!"
"That's so, Lef," remarked one of the bystanders, jeeringly; "but
that's what you get for having a bad name. If that stick of yours had
struck Frank on the temple instead of where it did, they'd be carrying
him home now on a shutter. So you see how lucky you are, after all."
Lef turned away. The game had been a grand disappointment to him.
Still, even if his side came out at the small end of the horn, they
had temporarily disabled several of the regular Columbia players, and
this ought to give him some little satisfaction. But the trouble was,
the game with Clifford was some days off, and none of them had been so
seriously injured but that they would be all right when the time came
to play again.
Followed by his crowd, Lef skated away, going up the river. Those who
remained with Frank were filled with indignation.
"He's getting worse every day!" grumbled Lanky; "and it's dangerous
to have such a firebrand around. He ought to be cut dead by every
self-respecting fellow in the whole town. Then his father would see
that it was time to get him off to some place where they didn't know
him, and his mean ways."
"That's what," echoed Buster Billings, "he's just beyond all hope of
reforming. Listen to those guys laughing to beat the band as they skate
away! They seem to think it was funny; and I reckon they're telling Lef
he ought to have aimed better."
"It was a mistake to play them at all!" declared Paul Bird, indignantly.
"Yes, I guess it was," admitted Frank, "though like the balance of you,
at the time I thought we just had to accept their challenge. However,
no great amount of damage has been done. A couple of bruised shins, and
a sore head tally up our hurts."
"Yes, and we just knocked spots out of 'em in the game, even with all
their rough-house play. The practice pays up for the few bangs we got.
But notice fellows, that not one on their side went out from hurts,"
remarked Jack Comfort.
"If I had it to play over again I'd do different," growled Shadduck,
holding up his wounded left hand.
"Well, what's the use of crying over spilt milk?" observed Ralph; "we
did what we started in to do, and showed Lef's crowd up for the tricky
lot they are. Now the rest of the day is before us. Let's forget our
troubles, boys."
So until noon came they skated around, or gathered in groups talking
over the coming game with Clifford. Those who knew more or less about
the strong points of the up-river players were eager to tell these
things to their mates, so that they might profit by them.
Frank, Ralph and Lanky walked home together at noon.
"Wait for me here a minute, fellows, please," remarked Ralph, as they
came to a bookstore where papers from New York were kept on sale.
He dodged inside, leaving Lanky looking at Frank with a puzzled
expression on his face.
"I think he's gone to buy a daily paper that makes a specialty of all
the latest shipping news. You know Ralph is intensely interested in
watching for the arrival of the _Empress of Japan_ at San Francisco. He
believes she will be bringing some one for whose coming the poor fellow
is anxiously watching--his mother!" said Frank.
"Oh! yes, you were telling me about it," murmured Lanky. "He was
brought up by the Wests in the village of Scardale as their son, and
only lately learned that he had been adopted, taken from the poorhouse
by the couple when a baby. And about a year ago he began to receive
some money on the first of every month, with a mysterious note telling
him to get an education such as he yearned to receive."
Frank nodded his head.
"Ralph has taken me into his confidence almost from the beginning," he
said. "I went with him to see a man named Ben Davis who was dying.
He had an idea that this man might be his father; but it turned out
otherwise. Then he discovered that the lawyer in New York who sent the
monthly sums was my Uncle Jim."
"Yes," said Lanky, eagerly, "I remember the time he came up here last
Fall to see you. I guess it was then he admitted that he had been
employed by a gentleman named Arnold Musgrove, who was traveling in
Europe with his widowed sister, a Mrs. John Langworthy. And it turned
out that Ralph must be the long-lost child of that same lady--that the
brother had had the baby stolen for some selfish purpose. It was all
just like a story."
"And Uncle Jim followed them through Europe and to India and China, for
they were great travelers," said Frank, slowly. "The last we heard from
him was a cablegram from Japan, saying that the lady knew all, and that
he was about to sail with her for America. Now you understand just why
Ralph is wild to learn if the steamer got in yesterday, when due."
"Here he comes out, and from the look on his face I guess she arrived,"
muttered Lanky, trying to appear as though he and Frank had been
talking of matters concerning Columbia's chances in the coming hockey
contest.
"It's all right. The steamer got in yesterday, Frank," cried Ralph,
his face beaming with delight.
"Of course there's no list of passengers, though?" queried the other.
"That's so; and I only have to take it for granted that they were on
board. You see this was the next steamer to leave after he cabled; and
I don't believe they would have waited over; at least I hope not," and
Ralph's mouth twitched in a sensitive way that told how his feelings
were stirred at the prospect of meeting the mother whom he had really
never known.
"It's all right, Ralph," Frank said, quickly. "Keep up heart a few more
days, and then the bully times will come for you. I want you to come
over and eat supper with us to-night; and it's understood, you know,
that on Christmas you help to get away with the turkey and plum pudding
at the Allen ranch."
"It's awfully good of you, Frank, thinking of me in that way. I don't
know how I'd ever have stood it out only for you. Why, you've been like
a brother to me, and your home is the dearest place I know. Yes, I'll
be around some time in the afternoon," he said, squeezing the hand that
was nearest him.
"And you drop in some time this evening, Lanky. There are some things I
don't quite understand that I'd like explained," continued Frank.
"There's just one think I'd give a fit to understand, and nobody seems
able to help me a little bit. Who is Bill? Just keep on thinking,
Frank, and tell me if you remember seeing him before," and Lanky turned
off to head for his own home.