YOUNG SPORTS.
After shivering for more than half an hour beneath a tree across the
street from Mrs. Chester’s home, Sleuth Piper finally decided to make a
move. Since seeking the hiding shelter of that tree he had seen four
boys ascend the widow’s steps, ring the bell and obtain admission. It
was now some time since the last one had disappeared within the house,
and Piper believed no more were to follow.
There was a light in Osgood’s room on the second floor, but the shades
were closely drawn at the windows. Sleuth would have given much had he
been able to look through those windows, but being prevented from doing
so, he had decided on a bold move.
Swiftly crossing the road, he softly mounted the steps and hastily gave
a single ring at the bell. After a few moments the summons was answered
by a maid, and the boy boldly entered the moment the door swung open.
“I’m to see Osgood,” he said in a low tone. “I’m a little late. I
presume the other fellows are ahead of me?”
“Mr. Osgood has several friends with him in his room,” said the girl.
“He’s expecting you, isn’t he?”
“Why, sure,” returned Piper, although even in his “professional
capacity” his conscience was troubled by the falsehood, which surely was
something quite surprising in a detective.
By the muffled hall light the boy deliberately mounted the carpeted
stairs. He heard the maid retire, and the sound of the door closing
behind her was most gratifying to his ears.
There was little trouble in finding the door of Osgood’s room, for from
behind it came the subdued murmur of voices; and, listening, Piper heard
at intervals a queer, soft, irregular clicking sound. But when he would
have taken a peep through the keyhole, he was much disappointed to find
it either plugged or covered on the inside by something that baffled
him.
“And that proves there’s something queer going on,” he whispered to
himself. “They’re not talking loud, either; they’re keeping their voices
down. A lot of fellows who get together and chat free and easy don’t
bother to talk that way. Wish I could hear something more.”
After a time, growing desperate through the intensity of his increasing
curiosity, he placed his hand gently on the knob of the door with his
ear close to the panel, and, when the talk seemed to be a bit more
general inside, he softly and slowly turned the knob.
The door was locked!
“That settles it,” he mentally exclaimed. “There’s something off color
taking place here.”
Still with the utmost caution, he permitted the spring slowly to force
the catch back into place and removed his hand from the knob.
“There’s just one thing to do now,” he decided; “I’ve got to put on a
bold front. It’s the only play for me to make.”
Lifting his hand, he knocked softly upon the door.
Immediately the hum of voices ceased, and after a little Sleuth fancied
he heard some one whisper within the room.
He knocked again.
There was the sound of a person stirring, and the key turned in the
lock. The door was opened the tiniest crack, and the voice of Osgood
asked:
“Who is it? What’s wanted?”
“Hello, Ned,” called Sleuth, as he again grasped the knob and gave the
door a push which flung it wide open. “Thought I’d come round for a
little call this—— Why, you’ve got company! Excuse me.”
The scene beheld by Piper’s eyes caused them to grow unusually big and
round. Within the room four boys remained seated around a table covered
by a green cloth and lighted by a shaded suspension lamp. On that table
were red, white and blue poker chips and some cards. In each fellow’s
hand were also the cards which he had held when play had been
interrupted by Sleuth’s knock. The young gamesters looked somewhat
startled, an expression which gave way to annoyance as they recognized
the unwelcome caller.
“How the dickens did you get into the house?” exclaimed Osgood, in a
manner that was, for him, unusually rude.
“Why,” returned Sleuth instantly, “I just said I came round to make you
a little call. But if I’m not welcome——”
“Old Pipe always has his nose into everything,” laughed Chipper Cooper,
one of the quartet at the table. “As long as he’s here to call, bring
him in and let him do his calling in the game.”
The other three were Charley Shultz, Roy Hooker and Phil Springer.
Shultz was scowling darkly and Hooker did not seem exactly pleased; but,
like Cooper, Springer appeared to accept the situation good-naturedly.
“Bub-bub-bet he hasn’t any coin with him,” said Phil.
“Come in, Billy,” invited Osgood. “Your unexpected appearance rather
upset us. I thought it might be Mrs. Chester or the maid, although we
haven’t been making any noise.”
Piper was only too willing to accept the invitation. “You seem to be
having a rather nice little game,” he said, as he entered the room and
Osgood relocked the door. “What’s the limit?”
“Oh, we’re just playing for amusement,” assured the host. “It’s nothing
but penny-ante, with a ten-cent limit; just enough to make it
interesting, you know. Do you play?”
Now one of Sleuth’s weaknesses was cards, although his limited finances
had never allowed him to play much for money. On this particular
occasion, however, he happened to have in his pocket between two and
three dollars, and, although he protested that he did not wish to butt
in, he was more than willing to take a hand.
“It will get me on the inside with this bunch,” he thought, “and if
there’s anything going on likely I’ll catch a hint of it.” So, to the
surprise of Springer, he displayed his money, announcing that a ten-cent
limit just suited him. A place was made for him between Osgood and
Springer, and he sat down at the table.
“We’ll play this hand off,” said Ned; “you can come in on the next.
You’re dealing, Cooper, and the pot is all level. I’ll take three
cards.”
When that hand was played off Piper was given a dollar’s worth of chips,
together with some advice about maintaining silence concerning what was
taking place in Osgood’s room.
“The people in this village are so straightlaced and narrow,” said Ned
blandly, “that they would regard a little game of this sort, played
merely for amusement, as we play it, as something bordering on the
criminal. I’m sure you won’t say a word about it, Piper.”
“Better impress it on him harder than that,” broke in Shultz
offensively. “I’m not so sure.”
“What do you take me for?” exclaimed Piper, with a touch of indignation.
“I’m playing in this game, ain’t I? Don’t I know what folks around here
are? Think I’d take a hand and then go out and shoot my face off?”
“He thinks,” explained Osgood smoothly, “that you might let a careless
word drop among the fellows, not realizing that they would be likely to
spread it. That’s the way such things leak out; a fellow tells a friend
under pledge of secrecy, and the friend tells another, and soon the
secret is public property. We’ve taken pains to keep our little social
gatherings very quiet.”
Sleuth was quite aware of this, and their efforts to keep the matter
quiet had awakened his natural suspicions and led him to that room.
“If I’m fool enough to blow about it after playing,” said he, “any one
or the whole of you will have the liberty to kick me good and hard. I
think I can keep a secret when it’s necessary.”
“Sleuthy won’t pup-pup-peach when he talks like that,” said Springer.
“Go on with the gug-game.”
Even though it seemed that he had done some bad guessing regarding the
object of these quiet meetings in Osgood’s rooms, Piper was, after the
first throb of disappointment, rather glad of it; for, in a way, he was
not very popular with the boys of Oakdale. At one time they had regarded
his aspirations to become a detective with considerable amusement and
had taken no little pleasure in joshing him. But of late his ability to
uncover secrets and lay bare unpleasant facts concerning people with
whom he came in contact had changed ridicule to a certain respect that
was not wholly free from apprehension, causing him to be avoided.
In desiring companionship and friends, Piper was perfectly normal, and
he had felt the coldness and slights of his fellows. Even Nelson,
although regarding him valuable as an outfielder on the nine, had seemed
to hold him at a distance. And so, when the turn of affairs and the
singular behavior of the Osgood clique had seemed to point to scheming
of some sort, Sleuth had not hesitated to make a bid for Jack’s
appreciation and gratitude by offering to discover and reveal what
crookedness those chaps were planning.
It now appeared that he had been misled in his reasoning, for the
secrecy of the boys who did not wish it generally known that they were
playing poker seemed, in the light of his discovery, perfectly natural
and excusable.
As Ned skilfully rippled the cards, passed them to Cooper to cut and
began dealing, Sleuth sat back on his chair, feeling that Fate had
served him a good turn by getting him in with this little gathering of
“sports.” In these days nearly every fellow who really amounted to
anything played cards, and it was surely far more interesting and
shocking to play poker for pennies and dimes than to play it for matches
or beans.
The room was rather warm, and both Shultz and Hooker were in their
shirt-sleeves. Osgood wore a handsome house coat, with a collar, lapels
and cuffs of purple plush. He was really a fine-looking chap, with his
clean-cut face and his curly dark hair, a lock of which had strayed over
his forehead. His hands were shapely and well formed, and a rich seal
ring adorned the one that held the pack of cards. He had lighted a fresh
cigarette. Shultz was smoking a cigar. A thin haze of blueish tobacco
smoke floated like incense in the room.
Sleuth’s swift appraising eyes had taken in the general appearance of
that room as it could dimly be seen beyond the circle of light thrown
over the table by the shaded hanging lamp. The furnishings were
unusually excellent. Beneath his feet there was a thick carpet, soft and
pleasant to the tread. There was a bookcase, a couch piled with
cushions, and heavy portieres hung parted at the entrance to the
adjoining bedroom. There were pictures on the walls and many photographs
and knick-knacks belonging to Osgood upon the old-fashioned marble
mantel, which had been hidden by a drapery. There were likewise banners,
boxing-gloves, dumb-bells and a tennis-racket, disposed in various ways
with a seeming carelessness that was really effective. Above the mantel
hung some dim old portraits, which Sleuth immediately fancied must be
the pictures of Osgood’s titled ancestors.
“It’s great,” Piper thought. “It was a streak of luck that threw me in
with this bunch. I’ll be one of the gang after this.”
He was aroused by the unpleasant voice of Shultz. “Come, wake up there,
Vidocq; you haven’t even anted. Shove out a white chip before you look
at your cards.”