ANOTHER SURPRISE.
At a loss for words, Nelson was silent. He was still unable to
comprehend Osgood’s motive for this confession. Perhaps Osgood himself
did not know what had led him to make it, beyond the fact that he had
suddenly been overcome by an intense desire to unburden himself in a
measure.
The silence became awkward, and Jack stirred restlessly. His elbows on
his knees, the other boy was staring broodingly at the ground. Roused by
Nelson’s movement, he lifted his head slowly.
“Well,” he said, almost whimsically, “you see now what a cheap, common
skate I am.”
“A fellow who blunders and owns up to it, partly atones for his mistake,
anyhow,” returned Nelson. “We’re none of us perfect, old chap. We’re all
human, and we have our little failings.”
“It’s very decent of you to talk that way, Nelson. I didn’t expect it. I
had no reason to expect it. You’ve every right to be thoroughly
disgusted with me, and I’m disgusted with myself.”
“I can’t see that you’ve actually harmed anybody yet.”
“That’s because you don’t know everything. I haven’t told you all.”
“Great smoke!” exclaimed Jack, “Is there more to tell?”
“Some time, before long, when everything comes out, you’ll be compelled
to think even less of me than you do now.”
“Look here,” said Nelson suddenly, “do you know anything about the cause
of this Hooker trouble? You must be referring to that; it can’t be
anything else.”
“Whatever I know you will learn in time,” was the evasive answer.
“You aren’t responsible for his condition?”
“I didn’t strike the blow.”
“You _do_ know about it! Why haven’t you told before?”
“There may be various reasons. As one, you should see that it meant
exposure for me; it meant looking into my past record and bringing to
life the fact that I’m a faker.”
“Now that you’ve told that much about yourself, I can’t see any good
reason why you should not tell it all. Seems to me it’s your duty.”
Osgood seemed to meditate again. “There are others concerned,” he said
presently, “and I have a duty to them as well as to myself. What I’ve
told of my own affairs doesn’t concern them, and I will claim that I’ve
never yet played the squealer on any other chap.”
“But the truth will have to come out.”
“I haven’t a doubt about that. Let it come. But when it does, let it
come from the right source.”
“I suspected that you must know something about it.”
“Oh, yes, you’ve suspected me all along, Nelson. In possession of the
facts I’ve given you, it will be a simple matter for you to show me up
in Oakdale.”
“If you imagine I’m going to run right away and tattle what you’ve
practically told me in confidence, you’ve got me sized up wrong.”
“I was not aware that I told it to you in confidence. I do not remember
that I exacted from you a promise of secrecy.”
“Perhaps that was because you thought I’d tell anyhow.”
“I didn’t think much about it. I didn’t stop to think. When the impulse
seized me, I simply went ahead and told.”
“Perhaps you’ll be sorry you did.”
“Perhaps so, but it’s done now.”
Jack rose once more and placed a hand on his companion’s shoulder.
“Osgood,” he said, “I refuse to believe that a fellow with a conscience
like yours can be thoroughly bad. Your natural impulses are right. You
didn’t bind me to secrecy, but I’ll pledge you now that I’m not going to
give you away.”
“I don’t suppose it will make any great difference whether you do or
not,” returned Ned unemotionally; “but I thank you for your good will.
Hadn’t we better look up the rest of the bunch? By this time they’re
probably wondering what has become of us.”
As he was starting to rise, Jack gripped his shoulder, hissing:
“Keep still! What’s that? Some one is coming this way!”
From a distance came the sounds of a body moving through the underbrush.
Slowly the sounds drew nearer, ceasing at intervals, as if the person,
if a person it was, paused now and then to rest or listen.
“Who do you suppose it is?” whispered Nelson. “It doesn’t seem to me it
can be one of the fellows coming back this way.”
Osgood shook his head as he rose noiselessly to his feet. Looking at
each other, the same thought filled their minds.
Perhaps it was Roy Hooker!
Not far from them, yet wholly concealed by the thickets and the shadows,
the moving object halted and remained silent for a long time. Gradually
this silence wore upon their patience, and presently Nelson made signs
indicating that he meant to investigate with all possible caution.
Osgood nodded, and, side by side, they crept forward, stepping softly
and peering anxiously into the gloom.
Beneath Nelson’s foot a dead branch snapped with a report like a toy
pistol. Almost instantly there was a movement in the thicket, a rushing
sound, a crashing as of a person in flight.
“Confound it!” exclaimed Jack. “Come on, Osgood, let’s run the thing
down.”
Through the bushes and the shadows, they dashed in pursuit. Osgood,
following the other boy too closely, was lashed in the face by whipping
branches, which stung and blinded him. At the first opportunity he
turned aside and chose a course he believed to be parallel with that
Nelson was pursuing. All at once he perceived they were no longer guided
by sounds made by the one they were after, and he stopped short to
listen. The other boy ran on much farther before he also stopped.
Again the woods, bathed in the white light of the moon, seemed hushed
and silent.
“Oh, Osgood! Where are you?”
It was Jack calling.
Ned had opened his lips to answer when something touched his
ankle—touched it and gripped it. Looking down, he was amazed to see that
it was a human hand thrust out from beneath a thick, low cluster of
bushes, and for the moment the discovery robbed him of the power to make
a sound.
The low bushes stirred. A head was pushed forth into a patch of
moonlight, and to Ned’s ears came a tremulous, choking whisper, full of
fear and pleading:
“Don’t answer, Osgood—for the love of goodness, don’t answer!”
Ned was looking down into the distraught, fear-stricken face of Charley
Shultz!