LAURA BENTLEY IS WIDE AWAKE
Suspended!
That did not mean expulsion, but it did mean that, until the school
authorities had taken definite action on the case, young Prescott
could not again attend H.S., or any other school under the control
of the Board of Education.
The five other partners of Dick & Co. had faced the school defiantly
when taking Dick's books from his desk and strapping them to bring
home.
Dan Dalzell thrashed a sophomore for daring to make some allusion
to Prescott's "thefts." Tom Reade tried to thrash another sophomore
for a very similar offense, but Reade got whipped by a very small
margin. That fact, however, did not discourage Reade. He had
entered his protest, anyway.
Dave Darrin extracted apologies for remarks made, from three different
sophomores. All of the partners were diligent in protecting and
defending the reputation of their chief.
Every day the "Co." came to see Dick. They made it a point, too,
to appear on the street with him. Not one member of the football
team "went back on" the suspended freshman. All treated him with
the utmost cordiality and faith wherever they met him. Laura
Bentley and some of the other girls of Dick's class stood by him
unwaveringly by chatting with the suspended freshman whenever
and wherever they met him on the street.
"Pooh, old man, a fellow who has all the brains you displayed
in making that football stroke doesn't need larceny as an aid
to getting ahead in the world," was the way Frank Thompson put
it.
"Thank you, Thompson. It's always good to have friends," smiled
Dick, wistfully. "But, just now, I appreciate them more than
ever."
"The football team and its best friends are giving Fred Ripley
the dead cut," pursued Thompson. "And say, you know the junior
class's dance comes off the night after tomorrow night. Juniors
are always invited, but members of other classes have to depend
on favor for invitations. We've fixed it so that Ripley couldn't
get an invite. He tried, though. Now, Prescott, you'll receive
an invitation in tomorrow morning's mail. Fix it to be there,
old man. Do! You'll find yourself flanked by friends. If any
fellow looks at you cross-eyed at the junior dance, the eleven
will throw him out through a window!"
Dick looked more wistful than ever. He had never had many lessons
in dancing, but he took to the art naturally. Had life been happier
for him just then he would have been glad to take up the invitation.
Besides, Dave Darrin had told him that Laura Bentley was invited
and meant to go.
"Now, you'll come along, of course," asked Thompson, coaxingly.
"No-o-o," hesitated Dick, "I don't believe I shall."
"Oh, nonsense, old man!"
"I believe I'd rather not," replied Prescott, sadly; "though I'm
tremendously grateful to those who want me to come and who would
try to make it pleasant for me."
Thompson argued, but it was no use.
"Why, every one of your partners is going," said Frank. "Here
comes Dave Darrin now. He'll tell you so."
"Nope," said Dave, with all the energy at his command. "We understand
we're to be invited, and we'd give almost anything to go, but
Dick & Co. don't go unless the Dick part of the firm is with us."
The junior dance came off, and was a good deal of a success in
many ways. Only one of the ten boys of the freshman class who
were invited attended. Eight girls of the same class were invited,
but only two of them accepted. Laura Bentley decided, at the
last moment, against attending.
Within ten days two important games came off between the Gridley
H.S. and other crack high school teams. Gridley won both.
"It would be cheeky in me to go to the game, when I'm suspended---hardly
a H.S. boy, in fact," Dick explained to his partners. "But you go.
"No, sir!" muttered Greg Holmes.
"Not if you feel that you can't go," protested Harry Hazelton.
"Dick & Co. go together, or not at all."
Gridley H.S. won both games by the skin of their teeth.
"We can't succeed much longer without our mascots," Thompson declared
impressively before all the members of Dick & Co. The six freshmen,
walking along the street together had been rounded up and haled
into the store where the football squad held its "club" meetings.
"Humph! I'd be a poor mascot for any body," muttered Dick. "I
haven't been able to bring even myself good luck."
"You just come to a game once, all six of you," begged Ben Badger.
"Then you'll see how we can pile up the score over the enemy!
Don't let it get out of your heads that you're our real, sure-thing
mascots. Why, if it hadn't been for you six youngsters we probably
wouldn't be playing football any more this season."
Other members of the squad tried to ply their persuasive powers,
but all in vain. Dick Prescott, though not breaking down or wilting
under the suspicion that lay against him, felt convinced that
it would be out of place for him to attend High School affairs
while on the suspended list.
"Humph!" grunted Thomp. "The only thing I can see for us to do
is to spend a lot of the Athletic Association's money in hiring
a swell detective to come to town and find out who really did
take the things at the old H.S. Then we'd have you with us again,
Dick Prescott."
Though under such long suspension Dick was not going backward
much in his studies. He had his books at home, and every forenoon
he put in the time faithfully over them.
One of these November evenings Dick had the good fortune to have
Dave Darrin and Greg Holmes up in his room with him. The other
partners were at home studying.
Dick and his friends were talking rather dispiritedly, for the
long suspension, without action, was beginning to wear on them
all. Dick's case was now quietly before the Board of Education,
but a result had not yet been reached by that slow-moving body.
Of course, the members of the Board had now more than a good
idea that Dick & Co. had been behind that "dead ones" hoax; but
the members of the Board were trying to do their duty in the
suspension case, and tried not to let any other considerations
weigh with them.
"We've all heard that old chestnut about the silver lining to
the cloud," observed Dave, dejectedly. "If it's true, then silver
seems to be mighty scarce these days."
"Richard! Ri-i-ichard!" called the elder Prescott, loudly, from
the foot of the stairs that led up from the store.
"Yes, sir," cried Dick, bounding to the door and throwing it open.
"Laura Bentley has called us up on the 'phone. She says she wants
to talk to you quicker'n lightning, whatever speed that may indicate.
She adds, mysteriously, that 'it's the biggest thing that ever
happened!'"
"Coming, sir!" cried Dick, bounding down the stairs, snatching
at his cap and reefer as he started, though he could not have
told why he picked up these garments. Dave and Greg, acting on
some mysterious impulse, grabbed up their reefers and hats, and
went down the stairs hot-foot after their chum and leader.
"Hullo!" called Dick, reaching the telephone instrument in the
back room of the store. "Yes, Miss Bentley, this is Prescott."
"Then listen!" came the swiftly uttered words. Dick discovered
that the girl was breathless with excitement and the largeness
of her news. "Are you listening?"
"I'll catch every word," Dick replied.
"Well, I'm at Belle Meade's house. Belle and her mother are here.
Mr. Meade is out. You know where the house is---corner of Clark
Street and Stetson's Alley?"
"Yes; I know."
"Well, the room between the dining-room and the parlor is in darkness,
and has been all evening. There's a window in that room that
opens over the alley. The Meade apartment is on the second floor,
you know. Well, Belle was passing that window---in the dark---and
she heard voices down below in the alley. She wouldn't have thought
anything of it, but she heard one of the speakers raise his voice
and say, excitedly: 'See here, I did the trick, didn't I? Ain't
Dick Prescott bounced out of school! Ain't he in disgrace! And
he'll never get out of it!'"
"Then another voice broke in, in a lower tone, but Belle couldn't
hear what was said. She's back in the dark by that open window
now," Laura Bentley hurried on, breathlessly. "The two parties
are still there, talking. It's hardly a minute's run from where
you are. Can't you get some one in a hurry, run up here and jump
on the parties? _Please_ do, Dick! It'll be the means of clearing
up this whole awful business!"
"Won't I, though?" answered Dick, breathlessly, into the 'phone.
"I have two chums here now. We'll be there like greased
lightning---and, oh, Miss Bentley, _thank_ you!"
Neither Dave nor Greg needed to ask any questions, for both had
stood close to the receiver, drinking in every word. Now they
shot out through the front of the store with a speed and turbulence
that made studious Mr. Prescott gasp with amazement.
"Careful, now, fellows!" warned Dick a few moments later. "We
want to _hear_, as well as _catch_! Softly does it."
Well practiced in running, not one of the three freshmen was out
of breath by the time that they reached the head of Stetson's
Alley.
Just before turning the corner at the head of the alley, Dick
and his freshmen chums halted to listen and reconnoiter.
Peeping cautiously around the corner, Dick, Greg and Dave made
out dimly one figure well down the alley. There was not light
enough there to recognize the fellow. And the three boys could
make out some one past this first fellow, but the second individual
stood well in the dark shadow of the delivery doorway of a store.
"Let's see if we can't creep up a little nearer," whispered Dick
Prescott, softly.
"They may see us coming," warned Dave.
"If they do, we'll just make a jump in and nab them anyway," Dick
rejoined. "Remember the main game---capture!"
Cautiously, a foot at a time, and in Indian file, the three freshmen
stole down the dark alleyway. Then Dick halted, passing back
a nudge that Dave Darrin passed on to Greg Holmes.
"Now, ye needn't think ye're goin' to renig," warned the fellow
who was nearer to the boys. "I done the whole job against Prescott,
and I done it as neat as the next one. Why, _you_ never even
thought of the trick of slipping that watch and pin into Prescott's
trunk, did ye? That was _my_ brains. I supplied the brains,
an' you've got to raise the cash to pay for 'em! How did I do
that trick of slippin' the watch an' pin into Prescott's trunk!
Oh, yes! Of course, ye wanter know. Well, I'll tell ye when
ye hand me the rest o' the money for doin' the whole trick---then
I'll tell ye."
Something in a very low whisper came, in response, from the second
party who was invisible to the prowling freshmen.
Dick Prescott felt that there was no need of prolonging this scene.
He had heard enough.
"Now, rush 'em! Grab 'em---and hold 'em!" shouted Dick, suddenly.
As the three freshmen shot forward into the darkness something
that sounded like an almost hysterical cheer in girls' voices
came from the open, dark window overhead.
But neither Dick nor his chums paused to give thought to that
at this important moment.
The unknown who had been doing most of the talking wheeled with
an oath, making a frantic dash to get out of the alley and onto
the street.
But Dick shot fairly past him, dodging slightly, and made a bound
for the second party to this wicked conference.
Just beyond the doorway in which this second party had keen standing
was a yard that furnished a second means of exit from the alley.
It was this second party to the talk that Dick was after. He
left the other fugitive to his two active, quick-witted chums.
They were swift to understand, and grappled, together, with the
rascal fleeing for the street.
The three went down in a scuffling, fighting heap.
Like a flash the fellow that Dick was after seemed to melt into
the adjoining back yard. Prescott, in trying to get in after
him in record time, fell flat to the ground just inside the yard.
Yet, as he went down Prescott grabbed one of his fugitive's trouser
legs near the ankle.
"Let go!" hissed the other, in too low a voice to be recognized.
Before Dick, holding on grimly, had time to look upward, the
wretch lifted a cane, bringing it down on Dick's head with ugly
force.