FOOTBALL UNIFORMS IN SIGHT
Had Dick turned to run Ab. Dexter would have darted after him. The bully
possessed much longer legs and prided himself on his speed.
To Dexter's amazement, however, Dick did not flinch or turn.
Perhaps there was not time enough. Again, perhaps young Prescott saw two
other figures moving in the darkness.
At all events, the man suddenly felt the stick fly from his hand. Then,
before he could regain his self-possession, two boyish figures crouched
swiftly one on each side of him.
Dexter felt his knees gripped. In the same instant two boys rose
suddenly, holding on, and the bully toppled over backward.
"Never hit a man when he's down," quoth the dry voice of Greg Holmes.
"But, if he isn't even any sort of a man, it doesn't matter!"
Thump! Greg brought his not very big fist down on Dexter's nose. It was
an ugly blow, delivered before the bully could recover from his own
amazement.
Dave Darrin, the other boy, did not even wait to speak. He began to rain
down blows on the prostrate enemy.
"Here, stop that, Davey!" urged Dick, darting forward. "Don't hit the
cur any more."
"But he was going to club you," argued Dave, hitting two more blows.
"Stop this, boys! Let up! I'll clear out," begged Ab. Dexter.
Dick, finding that neither of his chums was much inclined to stop the
merited punishment, darted in and forcibly dragged Darrin off Dexter's
prostrate form.
"Let me have him, for a minute or two yet," coaxed Greg Holmes. "You
know, Dick, he was going to club you."
"I know it," rejoined young Prescott doggedly. "He did thrash me twice,
and it hurt. I don't believe in soiling our hands on anything like this
fellow, when it can be helped. Besides, we're too many."
Though Dave and Greg had now both been pulled off their prey, they
hovered over Dexter, who seemed afraid to rise for fear it would lead to
a renewed onslaught.
"Stand back, fellows," coaxed Dick, pushing them gently. "Dexter, I told
you you'd be a booby in any fight where you couldn't have it all your
own way. I was right about it. Get up, now--and make your fly-away while
I'm still able to hold these two bulldogs in leash. Hustle now!"
Dick emphasized his advice with a kick, but it was not a vicious one.
Ab. Dexter looked up in wonder. Then he rose, crouchingly, next made a
sprinter's start and bolted.
"Humph! We can never get him now," uttered Dave Darrin disgustedly.
"Whew! I wish I could run as fast as that."
"You can learn," replied Dick.
"Yes; in about ten years!"
"Dave, you could learn to run a heap faster than you do, and in a mighty
short time."
"How?"
"Just start in to train. Get someone who knows something about it to
give you pointers on running. Pshaw! I believe our whole crowd ought to
start in to learn to run. To run, really, I mean. If I had been a faster
runner to-night I might have gotten away from that bully. I might have
saved myself from a good many aches that I've got just now."
"You aching?" questioned Darrin. "What makes you ache?"
"Dexter gave me two hard thrashings before you fellows got along."
"He did?" sputtered Dave vengefully. "O Dick, why did you ever let him
get away from us?"
"I'm glad I did something to the sneak while I had the chance," declared
Greg Holmes.
"First of all, tell me how you fellows came to find me," suggested Dick
Prescott.
"Oh, that's easy enough to account for," Dave replied. "Greg and I were
on Main Street looking for you. Then we went down to the store. Your
mother told us that you'd gone to Mrs. Davis's with a package of books,
so we set out to meet you on your return. And right over there, on the
street, we came across a little girl, white, scared and half crying. She
said she had seen a man grab you up, throw you over the wall----"
"Yes, that happened," nodded Prescott.
"And the little kiddie said she saw the man jump over the wall, grab you
up and start for the woods. She was sure the wicked man was going to
kill you."
"Dexter was mad enough, but he lacked the sand for going that far, I
guess," remarked Prescott.
"He might not be without the sand," argued Dave. "I've got a notion that
Dexter, while a coward, perhaps, about some things, would go about as
far as his anger drove him. I'm glad we came along, anyway."
"So am I. You fellows sneaked in so quietly in the dark, that I didn't
see you until just before you tackled Dexter. Well, there's no great
harm done, thanks to you, Dave, and to you, Greg. Let's get back to Main
Street."
As the youngsters crossed the field and strolled up the street, Dick
gave an accurate account of what had befallen him.
"So the sneak wanted to pay you to help him in some dirty sort of work?"
demanded Dave, his dark eyes ablaze with disgust.
"I imagine it must have been dirty work, since Dexter had planned it
out," Dick admitted, smiling.
"The hound! But then, see here, Dick; if Dexter wanted you to help him
in anything of that sort, it means that he's going to try to bother that
poor wife of his again."
"It looks that way, Dave."
"Then we ought to warn Mrs. Dexter, so that she can be on her guard
against the worthless rascal."
"I've been thinking of that, Dave. Yes; I'm sure we must go and give
Mrs. Dexter a hint. It wouldn't be right not to tell her of what may be
ahead of her."
"We might go around to her house to-morrow afternoon after school, eh?"
proposed Greg.
"Football practice to-morrow afternoon," retorted Dave Darrin dryly.
"Besides, to-morrow afternoon might be too late," urged Dick. "Fellows,
when we have a message like this, which may be of great importance to
some other human being, there's no time for doing the errand
like--_now_!"
"That's right, too," approved Dave. "It won't take us more than five
minutes to reach Mrs. Dexter's house. Let's head for there at the next
corner?"
That being agreed to, the three chums set out at a brisk walk. A few
minutes later Dick was pulling the doorbell of Mrs. Dexter's new home,
while Dave and Greg stood just a little below him on the steps.
It was a pretty little house, of ten rooms; not as large a house as Mrs.
Dexter might have been able to afford, but one that was a happy contrast
to the three-room flat in which Mrs. Dexter had lived when obliged to
support herself at dressmaking. As yet there were but two servants on
the place--a woman who did the house-work and a hired man, who slept in
a room over the little barn at the rear of the house.
"Will you ask Mrs. Dexter if she can see us, please?" asked Dick,
lifting his cap, when the woman-of-all-work opened the door. "Kindly
tell her that we have news for her which we think may be very
important."
"Come in, boys," replied the housekeeper, doubtless pleased by Dick's
deference in raising his cap, an example in which he had been promptly
followed by Dave and Greg.
The woman showed them into a little parlor. Mrs. Dexter soon came down
and greeted them.
"I'm very glad you boys have called on me," she said. "You and your
other friends did me a service to-day that I can't forget. I was on the
way to the bank to leave the jewels and the money when you helped me so
handsomely."
"We've come, Mrs. Dexter," said Dick, "to tell you what happened
to-night. It may be the means of saving you from further trouble with
Mr. Dexter."
Then Dick told the story of his adventure that evening. Dave and Greg
added a few words at the end.
"So we think," summed up Dick, "that Mr. Dexter may not yet be through
with his schemes against you. Excuse us, Mrs. Dexter, but don't you
think it would be well to have a man sleep in the house--one that you
can depend on if Dexter comes here to make trouble?"
"Yes, indeed. My hired man is a straight-forward fellow. I'll have him
stay around here more, and I'll have a room fitted up in the house for
him. Mr. Dexter isn't usually extremely brave. I imagine that the hired
man can take care of him if he puts in an appearance. At all events, I
shall feel safer for having a man in the house."
Their errand being done, the three Grammar School boys would have risen
to go, but Mrs. Dexter detained them, asking many questions about their
school life.
Then, somehow, the story came out of the newly organized Central Grammar
football squad.
"Oh, but that is going to be fine!" cried Mrs. Dexter. "Manly sports
always make boys stronger, and give them a better sense of fair play
when such a sense is needed. You'll have uniforms, of course. What will
your uniforms be like?"
"That's one of the points we haven't decided on yet," smiled Dick. "The
uniforms will have to come, in good time."
"Your football organization has a treasurer, of course?"
"He's a luxury we don't need yet," laughed Dave.
"Why not?"
"Because there isn't any treasury."
"Yet there will be, of course--that is, if----"
Suddenly Mrs. Dexter looked mightily pleased and clapped her hands.
"I've stumbled on to one of your secrets, boys," she cried. "You haven't
any treasury, and you're still wondering where the money can come from
to pay for uniforms. Well, you needn't wonder any longer. All of you
boys who helped me to-day are interested in the football plan. You did
me a very great service to-day, and you've done me another one to-night.
Now I'm going to buy the football uniforms. How much will they cost--ten
dollars apiece?"
"Five or six ought to buy as good uniforms as we'll need," replied Dick
Prescott, reddening. "But, Mrs. Dexter, we don't want----"
"Let me have my own way, won't you?" she pleaded plaintively. "It's such
a very new thing for me to be able to have my own way. I'm going to
write the check, to-night, to pay for the uniforms. Don't stop me,
please don't."
Mrs. Dexter rose and went over to a little desk, where she sat fingering
her checkbook.
"Now please give me some idea of what such uniforms cost. I want to do
it nicely for you boys. Excuse me just a moment, though."
Mrs. Dexter touched a bell on her desk and the housekeeper entered.
"Jane, when I put Myra to bed this evening, she showed signs of a cough.
I don't want the child to get croupy and not know anything about it.
Just run up and watch Myra, won't you, without waking her? Then come
down and let me know, after a few minutes."
The housekeeper started upstairs. Mrs. Dexter returned to the subject of
football uniforms, while the three boys, red-faced and reluctant,
answered her questions. They appreciated her kindness, but they did not
want her to pay for the uniforms. To Dick and his chums it looked too
much like begging.
A shriek sounded upstairs. Then Jane came rushing down.
"Oh, ma'am!" she cried in dismay. "Myra's gone--her bed's empty, and the
clothes that she wore have been taken from the chair!"
While Mrs. Dexter turned deathly pale and tottered, Dick Prescott leaped
up, exclaiming:
"It's the work of Dexter. That's the scheme he had!"