PAYING AN OLD DEBT
As Bobby's watch had been the only one in the party, the boys had not
been able to keep track of the time during the latter part of their
journey, and they were a little fearful that they might be late for
their train.
They were relieved therefore to learn they were in plenty of time. The
train was not regularly due for half an hour, and owing to the snowstorm
it would probably be an hour or more behind time.
The station agent at Roseville, as the town was named, had charge of the
telegraph office as well. He was a kindly man and listened with the
greatest sympathy to the boys' story. His indignation at the robbers was
hot, and he promised to put the constable on their trail at once.
"It's a beastly outrage," he stormed. "That old deserted shack has been
too handy for fellows of that kind. They make it a regular hang-out.
We'll clean out the gang and burn the place to the ground. I've got to
stay here now until after the train leaves, but as soon as it's gone,
I'll get busy."
He assured them that he would send on the telegram to be paid for at the
other end, and the boys, possessing themselves of some blanks, withdrew
to a quiet corner to prepare the message.
It proved to be a matter requiring some thought, and several blanks were
cast aside before it suited them.
"You see," said Bobby, as he sat frowning over his stub of a pencil, "I
don't want to scare the folks to death by telling them we've been
robbed. They'd think that perhaps we'd been hurt besides and were
keeping it quiet so as not to worry 'em. We can write 'em a letter
afterward and tell 'em all about it."
The final outcome of their combined efforts stated the matter with
sufficient clearness:
Lost money and tickets. All safe and sound. Please telegraph
twenty dollars to me, care station agent, Roseville. Will
explain in letter.
Bobby.
This suited them all, though Fred suggested that they might save by
cutting out the "please." He was voted down however, and the telegram
was handed through the office window and put on the wire at once.
This being attended to, there was nothing to do but to wait. Then a new
worry assailed them.
"How long do you think it will be before we can get an answer?" asked
Mouser.
"Not very long," replied Bobby confidently.
"The message must be in Clinton this very minute," chimed in Pee Wee.
"Yes, but that's the least part of it," remarked Fred. "It will have to
be carried up to your house from the station and I've heard my father
say that Claxton isn't as quick about those things as he ought to be.
Sometimes he gets Bailey to deliver for him, and you know what an old
slow-poke he is."
"And even when it gets to the house your father may be downtown and your
mother may be out sleigh riding or visiting or something," observed
Mouser gloomily.
"And then too, it will take some time for your father to get down to the
telegraph office and send the money," was Pee Wee's contribution.
"Oh, stop your croaking, you fellows," cried Bobby. "I'm sure everything
will be all right." But, just the same, their doleful suggestions made
him a little uneasy, and he fidgeted about as he watched the hands of
the station clock.
"There's another thing," observed Mouser, returning to the charge.
"Suppose now--just suppose--that the money doesn't get to us before the
train starts, what are we going to do?"
"Then we'll be stuck," admitted Bobby. "And we'll have to do a whole lot
more telegraphing to Rockledge telling them that we can't get there till
to-morrow. But even if the money is late, it's sure to come. We can pay
for our meals and lodging over night and won't have to go to the
poorhouse."
"Lucky we got such a dandy feed at Mrs. Wilson's anyway," remarked Pee
Wee. "That will keep us going until the money comes."
"It was mighty good of her to give us such a meal and not charge a cent
for it," said Mouser.
"Free meals for five hungry boys," murmured Fred.
"Five!" exclaimed Pee Wee in surprise. "Why, there were only four of
us."
"Yes," replied Fred, "but you counted for two."
Pee Wee made a rush toward him, but Fred dodged adroitly.
Just then, Mouser, who was looking out of the station window, gave a
sudden exclamation.
"Look here, fellows," he cried. "See who's coming!"
They crowded together, looking over his shoulder.
"Why, it's Tommy Stone!" ejaculated Bobby.
"He must be going back to Belden School," added Fred.
"And that's his father with him, I guess," put in Pee Wee.
Tommy Stone was a boy who had played quite a part in the lives of Bobby
and Fred a few months before. He had run away from home to go out West
to "fight Indians." He had taken his father's pocketbook with him,
intending to use only enough to pay his fare and send the rest back.
Unluckily for the young Indian fighter--or rather luckily, as it turned
out--he lost the pocketbook out of the car window. Bobby and Fred were
standing by the side of the track as the train went thundering past, and
the wallet fell almost at their feet. They picked it up and were wildly
excited when they found that it contained no less than four hundred
dollars.
The boys had dreams of unlimited ice-cream and soda water as the result
of their find. Still they and their parents made earnest effort to find
the owner, but as the days passed by and no claimant appeared it looked
as though the money would become the boys' property.
Late in the fall, Bobby and Fred rescued a small boy from the clutches
of some larger boys who were amusing themselves by tormenting him. The
boy turned out to be Tommy Stone. He had been brought back after his
runaway and sent to Belden School, which was not far from Rockledge.
Tommy had heard that the boys had found a pocketbook and suspected that
it was the one that he had lost. He made a clean breast of it, and the
money was restored to its rightful owner. Mr. Stone wanted to reward the
boys handsomely, but their parents would not permit them to accept a
money reward, and Mr. Stone compromised by sending them the material for
a royal feast at Rockledge.
As for Tommy, he had an interview with his father, the nature of which
can be guessed at by Tommy's statement afterward that he could not sit
down for a week unless he had pillows under him.
"He doesn't look like an Indian killer," laughed Mouser.
"Not so that you could notice it," chuckled Pee Wee.
"I don't see any scalps at his belt," grinned Fred.
Tommy caught sight of the boys as he entered the station, and ran
forward to meet them with exclamations of pleasure and surprise. Mr.
Stone looked curiously at the group but said nothing, and went over to
the agent's window to buy his son's ticket.
"What in the world are you fellows doing here?" cried Tommy.
"We're just as much surprised to see you as you are to see us," replied
Bobby, with a smile.
"On your way to Belden?" inquired Fred.
"Yep," answered Tommy, making a wry face, "and I'm not any too glad,
either. I've never liked that school. The big fellows are all the time
taking it out on the little ones."
"You ought to get your father to let you come to Rockledge," suggested
Bobby.
"Then you'd be going to a real school," remarked Fred, who felt to the
full the traditional rivalry between Rockledge and its chief rival.
"Not but what we've got some bullies of our own," put in Pee Wee.
"Bill Bronson and Jack Jinks, for instance," observed Mouser.
"I'd like first rate to change," admitted Tommy, "and perhaps next year
I can. But my father has all his arrangements made now, and I'll have to
stick it out at Belden for the rest of this term."
"Is that your father over there?" asked Bobby.
"Yes."
"Looks as though he had a good right arm," said Fred slyly.
"I'll bet he's practiced with it out in the woodshed," put in Pee Wee.
"What's the price of strap oil, Tommy?" inquired Mouser.
Tommy winced a little at the chaffing. It was evidently a painful
subject.
Bobby came to his rescue.
"Oh, cut it out, fellows," he remonstrated. "We all make mistakes
sometimes."
Tommy flashed him a grateful look.
"Yes," he agreed. "But you can bet that I'm not going to make the same
mistake twice."
"That's the way to talk," rejoined Bobby heartily.
Mr. Stone had completed his purchase and now strolled over to the group.
He had never seen the boys before, as the return of the pocketbook had
been made by Mr. Blake.
"Some young friends of yours, Tommy?" he asked, with a genial smile.
"Yes, sir," Tommy answered. "They go to Rockledge School, right on the
other side of the lake from Belden."
He introduced the boys by name, and Mr. Stone pricked up his ears as he
heard the names, "Blake" and "Martin."
"What!" he exclaimed. "Can this be the Bobby Blake and Fred Martin who
found my pocketbook and sent it back to me?"
"That's who they are," replied Tommy, flushing.
Mr. Stone took the boys' hands in both of his and wrung them warmly.
"Well this is a bit of luck," he said heartily. "I can't tell you boys
how glad I am to see you. I've often wanted to lay eyes on the boys who
could find four hundred dollars and never rest till they got the money
back to the owner."
"Oh, that was nothing," answered Bobby, who always felt embarrassed when
any one praised him.
"It was the only thing to do," added Fred, his face getting almost as
red as his hair.
"All the same, there are lots of boys who would never have said a word
about it," persisted Mr. Stone. "I've always felt sorry that your folks
wouldn't let me show my gratitude by making you boys a present of
something that would have been worth while."
"You did give us the stuff for a dandy spread."
"Some spread that was too, fellows," put in Pee Wee. "I was in on that
and it was just scrumptious."
"Trust Pee Wee to remember spreads if he never remembers anything else,"
laughed Mouser.
Mr. Stone's eyes twinkled as he took in Pee Wee's generous proportions.
"Well, I'm glad if you enjoyed it," he smiled. "But tell me now how you
boys find yourselves here. I thought you traveled by the road that runs
through Clinton."
"So we do," replied Bobby, and started to relate the occurrences of the
morning.
"I see," said Mr. Stone, interrupting before Bobby had got very far into
his story. "And then you found out you could get a train on this road
and tramped over here. Well, you won't have long to wait now, for the
train will be along in a few minutes."
"But that isn't all," put in Fred.
"No?" queried Mr. Stone. "What else is there?"
"We were robbed on the way," answered Fred.
Mr. Stone gasped and Tommy showed symptoms of great excitement. Robbed!
It was almost as good as Indians.