CHAPTER VII

CAUGHT IN THE ACT

"Hold on, Thad," continued Hugh, as he put a restraining hand on the

shoulder of his more impulsive chum, "we've got to be careful, or else

he'll learn how we're meaning to spy on him. Bend over, and do the

grand sneak act."

"He's headed straight for the building, Hugh!" breathed the other, as

he complied with the directions given by the one whom he was accustomed

to look upon in the light of a leader.

"That's right, and I guess he's meaning to crawl inside, if only he can

find a window that's been left unfastened. Steady now, Thad; he's

stopped under one right now!"

They continued to crouch there and watch what went on, their eyes glued

upon the dimly seen figure of the unknown. Greatly to the surprise of

Thad, the party stepped to one side, and seemed to be dragging back a

heavy plank, not of any vast length, but sufficiently long to reach

the window when placed on a slant.

"Say, did you notice how he seemed to know just where that plank was

lying, Hugh?" asked Thad deliriously. "Seems like he must have been

spying out the land by daylight beforehand"

"You're right there," whispered Hugh; "and he acts as if he felt pretty

certain that particular window would be unfastened, in the bargain."

"Hugh, that settles it," added the other sturdily, as though now fully

convinced.

"Yes, settles what, Thad?"

"Why, it's a _boy_, don't you see, and he must have left that window

unlatched on purpose this afternoon when some of the fellows were

shutting up.

"Wait and see," advised Hugh, although almost convinced of the same

thing himself.

The test was not long in coming. They could see the other "shinning"

up the sloping plank, as any athletic boy would be apt to do, without

any particular trouble. Now he had reached the window, and Thad held

his breath in suspense. He sighed as he heard a slight squeaking

sound. Evidently the sash which was supposed to be fastened every

night through ordinary prudence, had given way to his hand, when he

exerted some pressure.

"He's going in, Hugh!" Thad observed, again laying a quivering hand

on the arm of his comrade, and then following these words with a low

exclamation of startled wonder: "Oh! look there, what's that queer

glow mean?"

Hugh understood readily enough.

"Why, he's got one of those little handy electric torches, you see,

and is using it so as to get his bearings inside the building."

"Guess you're right, Hugh," admitted the other; "and there, he's

crawling over the sill now, as sure as anything. Oh! the skunk,

what can he be up to?"

"We'll try and find out," said Hugh, with his usual promptness. "Now

he's gone further from the window let's be moving along. That plank

ought to make it easy sledding for fellows like us."

Indeed, it would be hard to find a couple of more athletic boys than

Hugh and his chum. Their intense love for every type of outdoor sport

had kept them in splendid physical condition, so that their muscles

were as firm as those of an athlete in training. To make their way

up that sloping board and reaching the open window was likely to

prove a mere bit of child's play with such fellows.

Hugh was the first to ascend. When he had raised himself so that he

could peep over the window ledge and see within the building he

apparently found the coast clear; for Thad, coming along just behind,

received a gentle prod with a toe, twice repeated, which he knew to

be a signal that all was well.

By the time Thad arrived the other was already well within the room,

having slipped across the window-sill without making the slightest

sound. All was dark around them, but further on they could see that

weird shaft of light moving this, way and that, indicating the spot

where the unknown intruder just then happened to be located.

"He's making for the locker room, don't you see, Hugh?" Thad ventured,

with a perceptible quiver to his low voice.

"Sure thing, and he knows where he's going, in the bargain," the other

went on.

"Of course, it's no hobo, then," continued Thad. "That scamp knows

every foot of ground under this roof. You can see it by the way he

keeps straight on. Hugh, do you think it might be Nick?"

After all, it was only natural for Thad to jump to this conclusion,

because of the evil reputation enjoyed by the boy he mentioned.

Nick Lang had been the bully and the terror of Scranton for years.

There was seldom a prank played (from stealing fruit from neighboring

farmers, to painting old Dobbin, a stray nag accustomed to feeding

on the open lots, so that the ordinarily white horse resembled the

National flag, and created no end of astonishment as he stalked

around, prancing at a lively rate when the hot sun began to start

the turpentine to burning), but that everybody at once suspected

Nick of being the conspirator.

Possibly he may not have always been the chief offender; but give Dog

Tray a bad name and he gets the blame of everything that happens

calculated to outrage the respectability of the law-abiding community.

"I thought of him at first," replied Hugh, "but it strikes me that chap

isn't of Nick's build. You see his light leaves his figure pretty much

in the dark; for he's using it principally to show him the way, so he

won't stumble over any chair, and make no end of a row."

The two had been stealthily creeping forward all this while, and were,

therefore, gradually diminishing the distance separating them from

the bearer of the electric hand-torch. Thad had evidently been

consulting his memory concerning something, for presently he again

whispered in his chum's ear:

"Then mebbe it might be Leon Disney, Hugh. Seems to me that sneak

would be just the one to try some mean trick like this. And, besides,

I happen to know he bought one of those little vestpocket lights down

at Paul Kramer's store only three nights ago, because I saw him

testing them and heard him say he'd take it."

"Yes, that looks significant, I must say, Thad. But I'm trying to

make out what he's done with his head. Don't you notice he's got it

bundled up with a sort of woollen comforter or something like that?"

"Why, so he has," replied the other; "I tell you what, Hugh, he's

hoping to hide his face, so if he's discovered prowling around in

here no one can say positively that they recognized him. Leon is up

to all those sly tricks. He gets ideas like that out of the stories

he's so fond of soaking in."

"Keep still now, Thad, and we'll creep closer," warned the other.

They really had their hands full endeavoring to advance upon the

prowler without making any sort of sound that would arouse his

suspicions. Hugh realized that if anything of this sort occurred the

other would instantly throw the full glow of his little electric torch

in their direction, and, of course, immediately discover their presence.

If such a thing happened it might interfere with their suddenly

arranged plan of campaign, and prevent the capture they contemplated,

which would be a grievous disappointment to both boys.

The unknown party had come to a standstill. He stood there in front

of the long row of new lockers in which the boys who meant to take

part in the principal events of the great athletic tournament kept

their possessions, without which they would be more or less handicapped

in their practice work.

Thad had made another important discovery; indeed, it struck him as

so significant that he could not forbear dragging Hugh down so that

he could place his lips against the other's ear and whisper:

"It's _your_ locker he's trying to open, Hugh, don't you see?"

Hugh, of course, had already noted this circumstance, and felt duly

thrilled, for really it struck him as something more than an accident,

and along the lines of a deep design. Doubtless, his active brain

started to wrestle with the problem as to why any one should wish to

open his locker, since the only things he kept there consisted of his

running jersey and trunks and shoes.

Could it be possible that this was only some small piece of spite-work

engineered by his old and inveterate enemy, Nick Lang, and ordered

carried out by one of the bully's cronies; while Nick himself made

certain to be in good company, so he could easily prove an alibi if

accused of the mean trick.

It seemed almost too contemptible to be true, since Hugh could easily

purchase other garments down at the sporting-goods store in Scranton.

Still, some mean natures are small enough to love to give "stabs" that

might annoy the recipient; and boys sometimes grow so accustomed to

certain articles of wearing apparel that being compelled to "break

in" a new pair of running shoes might lose Hugh the great race!

He gritted his teeth as a wave of indignation swept over him. Really

it was high time this contemptible spirit of annoying those he chose

to look upon in the light of enemies was crushed in Nick Lang. He

had carried on with a "high horse" too long already, and, for one,

Hugh felt as though combined action should be taken against him by

the respectable fellows of Scranton High.

But it was far from Hugh's intention to stand there and see his locker

robbed by such an unprincipled fellow as Leon Disney, if, indeed, the

skulker proved to be the party they suspected. Possibly Hugh moved

too soon, for it would have been much wiser had he waited until the

sneak thief actually had the locker open, and disclosed his full

intention.

Urged on to action by his indignation, Hugh started forward. Thad,

realizing that it was his chum's intention to do something radical,

skipped off a little to the right. He fancied that should the skulker

take the alarm and try to flee, making for the open window in the

rear, he was apt to turn aside and try to pass by; so his move was

intended to block this little game.

It turned out to be needless, for so interested as the fellow with

the flash-light in his work of inserting a key in the lock, and trying

to turn it, that he did not appear to notice anything wrong until

Hugh was close at his elbow. Then, as Thad slipped around to one

side to cover all lines of retreat. Hugh reached out a hand and

caught hold of the fellow by the shoulder. At the same time he

exclaimed in a severe voice:

"Well, what are you doing here, I want to know, trying to break

into my locker?"

The other gave a tremendous start, and a low, bubbling cry, half of

fright, and also of disgust, came from his lips. The woollen muffler

fell from about his face, and, although he snapped off the light just

then by a movement of his thumb, the others had glimpsed his features.

Thad had evidently hit the target in the bull's-eye when he mentioned

his suspicions concerning the probable identity of the skulker.

It was Leon Disney!

The Scranton High Chums on the Cinder Path Or, The Mystery of the Haunted Quarry · 第 7 / 20 章