A BREACH
This quick retort on the part of Frank Allen threw the hearing into
dismay for a few moments. The question had not occurred to the chief
of police, who, it was now becoming more evident, was willing to
place the blame on the most convenient shoulders, and, Frank thought
to himself, he may have been influenced by the policeman who had so
openly accused him of knowledge of the crime at the Parsons place two
nights before.
Cunningham did not reply. Instead he fidgeted in his chair, and
looked at the chief, who was nonplussed.
“That is a fair question,” he said slowly. “Mr. Cunningham, will you
please explain why you are so sure this young man and his friend were
not in the boat for two hours?”
“It is not possible for me to explain,” was the very deliberately
pronounced reply of Fred Cunningham. “I got my information from a
source which I do not care to name.”
“Then you do not say that you actually saw my _Rocket_ tied to
the shore for two hours?” asked Frank, directing the question at
Cunningham.
“No, I did not say I saw it myself. But the man who told me is a
thoroughly reliable one.”
“Is he any more reliable than the information he gave you?” Again
Frank shot a direct question.
“Now, now, that will not do. I am carrying on this hearing,” broke in
the police chief.
“I just wish to remark,” Frank was not to be stopped, “that if the
informant of Mr. Cunningham is no more reliable about any other
information than he was about this, I cannot see that anything Mr.
Cunningham can say will be of any value to you, Mr. Berry.”
“Do you mean to say that this information is not true?” asked the
chief.
“I mean to say exactly that and nothing more. Now, Mr. Berry, this
stranger, unknown to any one in town, comes in here and places before
you some hearsay evidence that is not the truth. Instead of asking
me privately my whereabouts on that day, you proceed to accept his
statement as if it were the truth. I am known in this town, while he
is not. You have known me a long time, and you have known my father.
You have not known this man at all, nor do you know anything about
him.”
The chief looked fairly at Frank, at first inclined to temper, but he
bit his lip and held back whatever it was that he started to say. For
a moment everything was quiet.
“Further,” said Frank, “I will answer no more questions. Any further
questions I have to answer will be in a court room and will be under
oath, when all other people, too, will be under oath.”
With this the young man rose to go. The chief stood and raised his
hand.
“I wish you to remain right here until I have finished this hearing.”
“I will remain until you have finished your hearing, but I will
decline to answer any more questions. You have no right to demand
replies from me, and I will not reply.”
The chief sat only after Frank had re-taken his seat, and the hearing
then became a humdrum of asking several minor questions of the
others, all of which had been told before.
As they left the room, Lanky took Frank’s arm, but not a word passed
between the two boys.
Ralph and Paul joined them outside, but it was plain to both the boys
that Frank and Lanky did not care to talk at this time, and they
contented themselves with walking along the street.
Just as they reached the next corner, a bevy of the girls of the old
high school crowd spied the four boys, for whom they had been looking.
In the bunch of girls was Minnie Cuthbert, looking sweeter than ever
since her return from Rockspur Ranch.
“We hope you haven’t forgotten that to-morrow is the day of the
picnic,” Minnie told them. “Everything is ready, and we have planned
on going down the river to the picnic grounds we used last year. But
why the long faces?” and she laughed merrily at the quiet of the four
boys.
Frank was the first to regain his happy manner.
“Sure, we’re going. That is, I am. You can leave the others at home,
but I’m going to gobble all the sandwiches and ice-cream you’ve got.”
“That’s what we have, and if you think you can eat all of it, you’re
welcome to try. Where is Mr. Cunningham? Have you seen him? We wish
him to go along, too.”
This was precisely like waving a red flag in the face of a bull,
except that Frank did not storm. He just had a violent feeling of
wanting to throw the fellow into the river or of doing something else
desperate with him. Then a sinking feeling followed.
“I haven’t seen him in the last few minutes. He was up the street a
while ago.”
“Come on, girls, let’s go and find him, because we have not invited
him yet,” and Minnie Cuthbert led the girls away in the quest of the
good-looking stranger who had seemed to capture all of them.
It was late afternoon, and the four boys made their way to the high
school grounds, where they sat down under one of the trees, Paul and
Ralph listening to the story which Frank and Lanky told them. The
entire story was told to them in detail, for Frank felt that, if he
did this, he might get some help or suggestions and felt that a stray
idea might come to the surface which would help them locate the men
who had robbed Mrs. Parsons.
After this little meeting broke up Frank went to the hospital to see
his father, finding him resting, but nervous, and the nurse said that
he did not appear to be doing quite so well as he had during the
earlier part of the day.
The day of the picnic broke bright, clear, sunny, perfectly wonderful
for such an outing as had been planned. Vehicles of every kind, but
most of them new automobiles, were pressed into service to take the
crowd of high school students to the picnic grounds. Frank asked
Lanky Wallace, Paul Bird and Ralph West to go there in the _Rocket_,
especially since Minnie Cuthbert had refused Frank’s request to take
her and said she was going to go with the crowd of girls.
The _Rocket_ had to be given a load of gas and oil, which caused the
four boys to be a little later in getting away than had been planned,
but finally they were ready to push the trim boat out of its house.
Before doing so, Frank saw that the engine would turn over easily,
and, as it emerged from the house, Lanky gave the wheel a twist and
the put-put started merrily.
Paul and Ralph had not yet had the pleasure of a ride in the new
boat, nor had they done any more than give it a cursory inspection.
Now, aboard for a real ride, they bent to looking around for the
things that made the craft complete.
“This is far better than going down in a car,” remarked Paul. “But
according to my ideas we are wasting time to-day. What we ought to do
is to search for some clues to the Parsons robbery. Picnics are fine
when there’s nothing else to do.”
To this the boys all agreed, even Frank. What was puzzling Frank,
though never a hint did he give, was what it was about Cunningham,
the stranger, that caused him to get along so easily with the girls,
and especially why Minnie Cuthbert, the girl he liked so well, should
be attracted to the fellow, even to the point where she was willing
to refuse Frank’s attentions.
They ran down to the picnic grounds in a very short while, the motor
humming along beautifully. No particular speed was shown, nor did
Frank wish to try for any, as he felt that he would rather warm the
engine up little by little, feeling the boat along for several more
days, after which he would give it a good test if the chance was
offered for a race with Cunningham’s _Speedaway_.
The girls were at the picnic grounds, as, indeed were most of the
boys, when they swung in toward the shore to land.
“Wonder where the _Speedaway_ is,” remarked Wallace.
Frank did not know. It was enough to see Fred Cunningham standing
there on the bluff alongside of Minnie, appearing to take most of her
time.
“What’s doing?” called Ralph, as he jumped ashore. “Let’s stir up
something to keep from going to sleep. Let’s eat or have some games.”
“Eat! That’s the big idea! Let the games go! Let’s eat!” roared the
attenuated Lanky Wallace as he climbed the stairs cut in the side of
the bluff and came to the grassy grounds.
But the girls vetoed any spoiling of their plans. Moreover, the truck
containing the best part of the luncheon had not yet arrived, they
declared.
But the noon-hour came, as noon hours do when young folks are on
picnics, and the girls spread the cloths on the ground, laying out
the paper dishes which had been supplied in large quantities, while
the boys helped break into baskets and bundles to get at the food.
The two large ice-cream freezers got the attention of Paul, Ralph,
and Buster Billings.
During the lunch, when all had been seated and it had been agreed
that no one person should wait on any of them, but all should
scramble as best they could for things which were not being passed
quickly enough, the conversation suddenly veered to the races which
had been proposed some days before, and about which Cunningham had
made some very boastful remarks.
It was Irene Rich, the girl who probably was most anxious to be in
the company of Fred Cunningham but who had not thus far succeeded,
who started the talk.
“How about that race?” she cried, just as a lull fell for a moment
in the conversation, as pieces of fried chicken were demanding
attention. “I’ll bet on the _Speedaway_!”
“Atta girl!” came from Cunningham. “You’re a judge of boats!”
“Also of those who run them!” she bantered.
“And that’s agreed!” came instantly from the stranger. “The
_Speedaway_, though, doesn’t need much brains to run it—she’s
naturally the best boat along the Harrapin or any other river. She’s
ready to run anything ragged that gets into a race with her.”
“I thought Frank Allen was going to race his _Rocket_ against her.”
Irene was pursuing the matter insistently.
“That’s what Frank Allen is going to do,” that personage spoke up.
“The _Rocket_ is ready any time, including to-day.”
“I haven’t the _Speedaway_ here this afternoon,” said Cunningham,
“and I am mighty sorry. Moreover, I’ve got to be out of town on some
business for a few days. But as soon as I get back I’ll be ready.”
“How about one week from to-day?” asked Frank Allen.
“Fine! That’s agreed, is it?” Cunningham replied. “I’ll be back in a
few days and we’ll run the race one week from to-day. Let’s attend
right now to all the details of distance, starting, passengers, and
everything else.”
So, while the luncheon proceeded, all details were set forth, some
being the cause of disagreement, but some one was prepared to meet
any of these points, and everything was determined for the race.
As they left the lunch Frank got a chance to speak with Minnie,
asking her and two of the girls to take a short ride in the _Rocket_.
Though Minnie acted rather coolly, she agreed to go, and in a few
minutes three of the girls were with Frank in his boat, and had put
out from the shore.
“Look at that cloud,” one of the girls said. “Is there any danger of
being caught in a rain? There’s no place on the boat to keep dry.”
Frank cast his eye toward the cloud, but he did not feel that there
was any immediate danger of a rain, and proceeded down the river
a distance before giving the subject much more thought, in the
meanwhile trying to engage Minnie in conversation while the other
girls sat forward.
But Minnie was not as free with her bright talk as was her wont, and
Frank was disturbed over it. In fact, Minnie mentioned the name of
Fred Cunningham during the conversation a little oftener than Frank
thought was necessary.
During a fifteen minute run the girls had forgotten about the cloud,
but now it was making itself evident. A stiff little breeze gusted
across the boat.
“We’re going to get caught in a rain!” those in front cried as a few
drops of water fell.
Frank, who had paid no attention to the change in the weather in his
deep thought about Minnie’s change toward him, now took a look at
things.
“This is going to be a stiff little rain. We’re nearest to this
island. Let’s land and get in that hut. It will keep off the rain.”
He changed the course of the _Rocket_ slightly, for they were
approaching an island in midstream. The rain was peppering down a
little more as they made the landing, and, while Frank tied the boat,
the girls dashed for the shelter of the rickety looking hut which
stood at the edge of the shore, a great elm tree spreading out to
reach it but not quite doing so.
But it did them little good. As the storm broke in full intensity,
the water poured through the roof as if there were none there. The
girls huddled together in one corner, but even that did them little
good. The rain came in a perfect sheet. Ten minutes of this and their
dresses were soaked.
“I think you should have used a great deal more care about this,”
Minnie said to Frank coldly. “It surely is not a very nice thing to
bring your friends out and then get them soaked in this manner. I
don’t appreciate it a bit.”
There was nothing for Frank to say. He had just succeeded in widening
the breach a little more, though certainly he had intended no such
thing.