AT WORK IN THE DARK
Dave had more than half expected the declaration the Widow Fairchild
made, so when it came he was not surprised. The others, however, stared
in bewilderment and dismay.
"All gone?" queried Mike Marcy.
"Every dollar!" groaned the widow. "Oh, the rascals, the heartless
villains! To rob a poor widow in this fashion! And I worked so hard
to save that money! Oh, where are they? I must catch them and get my
money back!" And she stalked around the room wringing her hands in her
despair.
"What a pity that we got here too late," said Dave. "I wish you had
hurried more," he continued to the Irish-American farmer. "I told you
not to waste time."
"Don't ye blame me for this!" replied Mike Marcy, half in alarm and
half in wrath. "I hurried all I could."
"Let us make a search for the rascals," said Joel Burr. "They may not
be very far off."
"It won't do any good," announced Farmer Brown. "We've been around here
too long a-looking for 'em."
"Yes, they're a long way off by this time," said his son Bill. "With
four hundred dollars in their pockets they won't let no grass grow
under their feet."
"This is the third robbery inside of six weeks," was Joel Burr's
comment. "Must say they be getting mighty free-handed."
In spite of what had been said, all went outside and took a look around
the grounds and up and down the highway. But it was useless; not the
least trace of the burglars could be found anywhere about.
While the others were outside, the widow inspected her house more
thoroughly. She said a dozen silver spoons were missing and likewise
an old gold watch and some old-fashioned gold and pearl jewelry. She
placed her total loss at nearly five hundred dollars.
Dave had to tell his story in detail, to which all of the others but
Mike Marcy listened with interest. The widow blamed the Irish-American
farmer for not having come to the house sooner, declaring that had he
done so the robbers would have been caught red-handed; and quite a war
of words followed.
"What am I to do, now my money is gone?" she wailed. "I cannot pay
that carpenter's bill and it must be paid by the end of this month."
"You'll have to notify the constable, or the sheriff," answered Joel
Burr.
"What good will that do? They haven't done anything for Lapham, nor for
Jerry Logan who was robbed in Oakdale."
"Well, I don't know what you can do, widder."
Mrs. Fairchild declared, when she had settled down a little, that the
man who had spoken to her about the sick baby had had a hoarse voice,
and all were satisfied that that individual was one of those Dave had
heard talk near the smokehouse. But she had not seen his face, so she
could not give any description of him excepting to say that he was
rather tall.
It was now nearly eleven o'clock, and as Dave had had no supper he was
hungry. His tramping around had made him tired, and he said if he was
not wanted any more he would go home.
"Go as far as I am concerned," said Mike Marcy. "But don't lay
the blame of this robbery on me. Remember, ye had no right to be
trespassin' on my property."
"I simply told the truth," said Dave; and a little later he withdrew
and hurried forth into the night in the direction of Oak Hall.
It was a lonely road and a less courageous boy might have been
frightened. It was cold and quiet and he walked a full mile without
meeting a soul. Then, as he was passing Mike Marcy's orchard, two
figures sprang out in the darkness.
"Dave!"
"Hello, so it is you, Phil, and Roger! What brought you out again?"
"We came to find you. We were afraid you had gotten into trouble with
Mike Marcy," answered Phil.
"Where in the world have you been?" asked the senator's son. "We
reported that you had lost your watch, but didn't expect you'd stay
away so long."
"Well, I've had troubles enough," answered Dave, with a faint smile,
and as the three hurried for the academy he told his tale from
beginning to end.
"Well, if this doesn't beat the Greeks!" exclaimed Phil. "Say, these
robberies are getting serious."
"Are you going to tell Dr. Clay?" asked Roger.
"Certainly. I haven't done anything wrong, so why shouldn't I tell him?"
"I guess you are right. But I shouldn't disturb him to-night. It will
be time enough to go to him in the morning."
Phil and Roger had gotten out of the Hall by a back way, leaving the
door unlocked behind them. The three boys, as a consequence, entered
easily, and then Dave took the chance of being discovered by going down
to the kitchen for something to eat. In the pantry he found a pumpkin
pie, some cold beans, and some milk, and on these made a hearty repast.
Then he went to bed and slept soundly until the bell awoke him at seven
o'clock.
He felt that he should be reprimanded and he was not mistaken. Job
Haskers strode up to him as soon as he went below.
"Master Porter, where were you last evening?" he demanded, in harsh
tones.
"I lost my watch, Mr. Haskers, and went to look for it. Then something
very unusual happened, which I am going to report to Dr. Clay."
"Something unusual, eh?" said the assistant teacher, curiously.
"Yes, sir. But I prefer to report to Dr. Clay."
"Hum! Very well--I will talk to the doctor myself later. We cannot
permit pupils of this institution to come and go at will." And with an
air of great importance Job Haskers passed on.
As soon as breakfast was over Dave went to Dr. Clay's private study.
The worthy owner of Oak Hall was at his desk, looking over some letters
which had just come in. He gazed at Dave in mild curiosity.
"Dr. Clay, may I speak to you for a few minutes?" asked the youth.
"Certainly, Porter. Come in and sit down."
Dave entered and closed the door after him, for he had caught sight of
Job Haskers close at hand, curious to learn what he might have to say
for himself. Sitting down he told his rather remarkable story, to which
the master of the Hall listened with close attention.
"These robbers are certainly getting bold," said Dr. Clay. "It is a
pity you could not get out of that smokehouse sooner."
"That is just what I told the others."
"You are certain you went over to Marcy's only for the kite and later
for the watch?" and the doctor looked Dave squarely in the eyes.
"That's it, sir. I did not touch his apples or anything else, and
neither did Phil nor Roger."
"Then he certainly had no right to lock you up. Do you wish to make a
complaint against him?"
"No, not that. Only I wanted to explain why I didn't get back to school
last evening."
"I see."
"Mr. Haskers approached me about it and acted as if he wanted to punish
me."
"Ah! Well, you can tell him that I have taken the matter in hand and
that you have been excused. I have but one fault to find, and that
is----" The doctor paused and smiled.
"That we didn't catch the robbers," finished Dave.
"Exactly. The authorities must get after the rascals. Until they are
caught nobody in this district will be safe."
After a few words more Dave left the office and went to his classroom.
As he did this Job Haskers entered the doctor's office. He must have
asked the master of Oak Hall about Dave, for after he came away he said
nothing more to the youth concerning his absence.
The next few days went quietly by. From Lemond the boys learned that
Mrs. Fairchild had appealed to the authorities and two detectives were
at work searching for the robbers, but so far nothing had been learned
about the rascals.
"They'll keep quiet for a while," said Ben, and such proved to be the
case.
One afternoon a letter reached Oak Hall addressed to Roger Morr,
Captain Oak Hall Football Club. It proved to be the expected challenge
from Rockville Military Academy. The eleven of that institution
challenged the Oak Hall team to play a game of football two weeks from
that date, on some grounds to be mutually decided upon. Pinned to the
challenge was a note stating a certain rich gentleman named Richard
Mongrace had offered a fine gold cup to the winning team, providing
the match was played on the new grounds laid out in his private park,
located at Hilltop, six miles from the river.
"Here is the challenge at last," said Roger, and he read it aloud. "I
suppose there is nothing to do but accept."
"Yes, we've got to give them the chance to even up," said Phil.
"They haven't forgotten that we beat them last season by a score of 11
to 8," said another of the eleven.
"I've heard something about their team this year," said Ben. "They
have dropped three old players and have three A No. 1 fellows in their
places. Two weeks ago, as you know, they beat the Hamilton eleven, 17
to 5, and day before yesterday they played White College eleven and won
out by a score of 12 to 5."
"Then they must be a heap stronger than they were last year," said
Buster Beggs. "For last year White College beat them badly."
"Yes, and Hamilton beat them too," added Dave. "I shouldn't wonder but
that they've got a crackajack team this year."
"Are we going to back out?" demanded the senator's son.
"No!" came back in a chorus.
"Oak Hall never backs out!" cried Ben.
"Well, where are we to play? I suppose they would like to play at the
Mongrace field," said Roger.
"It's a dandy spot--I was up there on my wheel last Saturday," said
Shadow Hamilton. "They've got a nice stand there, too."
"And our field is all lumpy," said Phil. "The doctor is going to have
it leveled off next spring."
"Then let us go in for that gold cup!" cried Sam Day. And several
others echoed the sentiment.
A regular meeting of the football club was called that night, and
it was decided, after consulting Dr. Clay, to accept the Rockville
challenge to play on the Mongrace grounds. A letter was accordingly
written and forwarded the next Monday.
"Now we have got to brace up and practise," said the captain of the
eleven.
"I wish you could get rid of two of our poorest players and take
on Babcock and Henshaw," remarked Dave. "Those two would help us
wonderfully."
"They both want to come in," answered the senator's son. "But I don't
see how I can drop any of our present members after the way they have
worked."
"Yes, I know that wouldn't be fair."
"I've already taken them on as substitutes. Maybe they'll get in the
game after all," went on Roger.
Practice began in earnest during that week and all did their best to
follow the coaching they got from the first assistant teacher, Andrew
Dale, who had been both a college player and a coach. The play was a
trifle mixed at times, but the boys worked with a will and that counted
for a good deal. But then came a letter calling one of the players
home, to attend the funeral of an uncle.
"I've got to leave the eleven," said Luke Watson. "You'll have to get
somebody to take my place."
"I am sorry to see you go," said Roger, sympathetically.
"Take Babcock," went on Luke. "You couldn't do better."
"I will," answered the senator's son.