PRETTY POLLY UNDER SUSPICION
"Hello! Thad, that you?"
"Nobody else, Hugh. I rather thought I'd hear your voice when I
stepped over to the 'phone. What's doing this fine Sunday afternoon?"
"Are you in for a little walk with me, Thad?"
"Just what would please me a heap, Hugh. Anything particular moving?"
"There you go suspecting that I've got something on tap just because I
call up and invite you to cover a few miles, when the weather is so
fine. But for once you've hit the nail on the head, my boy."
"That settles it, then. I'll rush right over, and join you, Hugh."
"Be careful and don't break your neck in your hurry, Thad. My news can
keep; and what would poor Scranton High do for a catcher in the game
next Saturday if you fractured your collar-bone?"
Whether Thad took the advice to heart or not, he certainly made his
appearance at the home of his best chum in an incredibly brief space of
time, flushed in the bargain, and with an eager light lurking in his
eyes.
"Nothing doing until we get safely out of town," said Hugh, firmly; "so
you'll have to put the brake on your impatience."
"Huh!" grumbled Thad, "that sounds as if what you had to tell me was of
vast importance, so that you didn't want to run any risk of others
cribbing the news. Now you have got me guessing to beat the band,
Hugh. I wonder if those Belleville fellows have been up to any dodge
to learn our signals, and how our pitchers are practicing certain pet
balls?"
"Oh! I'll relieve your mind that far by telling you it has nothing
whatever to do with the game next Saturday; for that matter it's not
about baseball at all. You're doing those fine chaps at Belleville a
gross injustice to even hint at their thinking of spying on us."
Thad grinned as though he had won a point.
"Well, I take it all back, then, Hugh," he hastened to say, contritely.
"And now that point's settled, there's only one more thing it could be
about."
"Notice that shrub bursting into bloom, will you?" remarked Hugh. "No
one ever saw a prettier sight than that is right now."
"Have you learned anything more about----"
"We'll take a turn here, and walk along the canal toward the big
mill-pond," interrupted Hugh. "That's always a favorite walk of mine;
and, to tell the truth, I haven't been out to the mill-pond for a long
time. The fishing there hasn't been very good this season, some of the
boys told me. Besides, I've been kept so busy with my studies,
baseball matters, and several other things I'm interested in, that I
haven't had much time for fishing this spring. Nobody loves it more
than I do, either, as you happen to know."
Thad heaved a sigh, and shook his head.
"No use trying to coax you, Hugh, when you've made up your mind not to
let out even a little peep. A fellow might wheedle until he fell over,
and you'd still be as hard as adamant. Yet it's right. Makes me think
of the old saying that a single man can lead a mule to water, but a
dozen can't make him drink--not comparing you to a mule, of course."
They chatted as they walked, until presently the town had been left
behind them.
"Now I'll open up and tell you what's been worrying me," announced
Hugh, suddenly. "The fact of the matter is, I was called over to
Madame Pangborn's this morning after getting home from church. She
told me a third spoon has disappeared!"
"Great guns! is that so, Hugh? And, say, was Owen there on the day it
went glimmering?" demanded Thad, frowning.
"I'm sorry to have to say yes to that," returned Hugh, slowly. "It was
yesterday it happened. She persisted in leaving the spoons just where
I saw them. I advised her to do that, for if they were hidden away we
might never discover the thief. As on the other occasions, Owen came
in with a bundle for the Red Cross, sent by the same lady who had
intrusted him with a package twice before."
"All I can say is, it's getting a heap serious for our new friend,
Owen. Hugh, do you think the poor chap might be what they call a
kleptomaniac; that is a person who has an irresistible inclination to
take things that don't belong to him, or her, and generally has no use
for them after stealing the same? It's really a disease, I've read.
Some very rich people are affected by it, particularly queer old
ladies."
"You're jumping ahead too fast, Thad," remonstrated Hugh, chidingly.
"I haven't admitted yet that I suspect Owen more than I did before. In
fact, these occurrences, such as his being in the house each time a
spoon vanishes, may turn out to simply be coincidences."
"That sounds just like you, Hugh. You're the best kind of a friend
anybody ever could have. Perhaps now you've got a clue of some sort
that you wouldn't mind telling me about?"
"I've been wondering whether the culprit is a human being after all,"
remarked Hugh, to the utter astonishment of his comrade, who burst out
with:
"Whew! you're aiming high, I must say, old chap. If not a human being,
what sort of a creature could the clever thief be? I've heard of
monkeys stealing things and hiding the same away in a spirit of
covetousness; but then the old lady doesn't happen to have a simian for
a household pet, that I know of."
"No, but she has got a poll-parrot, as I told you, Thad!" observed
Hugh, calmly.
"Oh! do you suspect that a silly bird could go and carry off not only
one spoon but three of them?" gasped the other boy. "What would a
parrot want of such objects, and where would she hide them?"
"Remember, this is only guess work on my part, because, so far, I
haven't any positive evidence that it's so. But I remembered once
reading an article about some birds having a weakness that way.
Generally it was a raven that did it, and hidden away in a dark corner
they would find trinkets and spoons and all sorts of things that were
of no possible use to any bird. In every instance they seemed to be
bright and tempting, as if the bird had no eye for dingy things. Well,
these spoons have recently been scoured and cleaned so that they shine
splendidly!"
"Oh! now that you mention it, Hugh," broke out Thad, "I remember that
several years ago, before I knew you, with another boy I climbed a tall
tree to peek in at the nest of a pair of crows. Well, sir, besides the
young ones, what did we find but three strange things. One was a key,
pretty rusty at that; another seemed to be a piece of metal that might
have fallen off a motor car on the road; it was made of brass, and
still shone fairly well. The third I've forgotten about, though I've
still got them all at home somewhere. At the time, Dick Saunders and I
laughed, and said the old mother crow had fetched her babies some
playthings to keep them amused while she and her mate were off hunting
grubs and corn and such crow food."
"Well, all of which goes to prove that my little theory mightn't be so
far fetched as you seemed to think in the beginning," said Hugh. "I
mean to look around closely the next time I drop in to see the Madame.
Perhaps if I picked up a tiny green feather that must have come from
Pretty Poll, and on the table close to the case that holds the spoons,
it might clinch matters."
"Whew! I only hope you do!" declared Thad. "I'd hate to learn that
Owen had any hand in taking those spoons. The sooner we find out the
truth, the better for all concerned. It'll not only relieve our minds,
as well as that of the old lady; but either prove or disprove the
suspicions we're right now entertaining toward that poor boy."
He looked very determined when saying this, just as though he had made
up his own mind to hasten the dénouement; but of that he did not say
anything to Hugh.
"My plan at present is to find a chance to hide in the room, and have
the old lady let her parrot free to fly around," continued Hugh,
reflectively. "You see, as a rule, the bird is held by a fine chain,
and made to stay by her perch; but the lady as much as admitted, when
scolding her pet, that every now and then Polly managed to get loose by
pecking at the ring about her leg; and had a great time flying
squawking in and out of the rooms before anybody could catch her again."
Thad clapped his hand in glee. He had changed his mind considerably
after hearing all these things in the line of a convincing argument, as
mentioned by Hugh.
"Why, if it should turn out that way, Hugh, it'd make a story well
worth writing up for the magazines, or a big New York daily paper. I
hope now you'll get busy on this scheme right away, so we'll know the
truth. Parrots are mighty cunning birds, for a fact. I knew one once
that used to mock everybody going by. What fun we boys used to have
trying to teach him to say things that mebbe his mistress wouldn't
exactly approve of, though, honestly, Hugh, they weren't very tough,
just boys' slang, you know. I'm glad now you asked me to take this
walk with you. For all we can tell, it may have some influence in
solving this puzzle that's got both of us guessing."
When Thad said this, he of course could have no idea how near he was
hewing to the truth. That walk was fated to have a very considerable
influence on the course of events, and also upon the solving of the
riddle; but we must not anticipate.
The two lads continued to saunter along. They chatted on other
subjects besides the mystery of the old lady's lost souvenir spoons.
The matter of outdoor sports was much in their minds those days, when
sleepy old Scranton was waking from her Rip Van Winkle nap of twenty
years, and girding herself to accomplish a few things on the diamond
and the gridiron.
So they drew gradually nearer to the famous Hobson mill-pond, where for
generations the boys of Scranton had been accustomed to swim and fish
in the good old summer time, and skate in the winter, the canal leading
close to its location.
The old mill was no longer in use, but with its moss-covered wheel made
a very picturesque sight that artists often painted with delight. The
pond itself was of fair size, and surrounded with trees and bushes. In
fact, it was quite a lake. On one side there stood a large ice-house,
and when the surface of the pond was covered with a foot of clear firm
ice, many of the residents of the town had their supply cut and stored
in places built partly underground, in order that they might have all
the ice they wanted through the dog days.
Hugh and Thad had almost arrived at the mill-pond when they suddenly
heard loud voices. There was screaming in shrill tones that would
indicate the presence of children near by.
"What does all that row mean, Hugh?" snapped Thad, looking suddenly
interested.
"They're playing around the pond, those kids, and like as not one of
them may have fallen in! Let's get a move on us and see!"
Hugh seemed to be of the same opinion, for he started on a rapid
gallop. Louder rang out the shrill cries. There could be no doubt now
as to some one being frightened; and considering the loneliness of the
mill-pond region, it was easy to guess Thad had hit the truth when he
surmised that a child must be in danger of drowning.