De Vere saw plainly that, in spite of his endeavors to injure Fred, the
latter was more of a favorite than himself. He supposed that he had
accomplished something of his design before the party took place, but
there he found that the result of his malicious endeavors practically
extended only as far as his sister.
Indeed, he almost fancied that his thrusts had been turned against
himself, for no one seemed to care for him especially. He was very moody
and sulky at his disappointment. He had overestimated his strength and
importance, as boys of his stamp always do; moreover, he thought Nellie
treated him very coolly, and it is just possible that she did, as her
time was fully taken up by another person, and the mere absence of
attention on her part was sufficient to make Matthew sullen and
disagreeable.
This sourness was noticed by all, and they left him to himself, pretty
much as he had hoped to see them treat his rival. The tables were fairly
turned upon him, as he could not fail to see. But he had intimated that
if Fred attended this party, and matters went a certain way, he would
have his revenge.
He resolved to carry out this threat, and so passed a great part of the
evening in mischievous plotting.
When it was time for the party to break up, notwithstanding the fact
that he had behaved so rudely and had not participated in any of the
games, or other forms of amusement, he gathered himself together,
approached Miss Nellie, and proposed to serve as her escort.
But Nellie answered, with a demure look and a twinkle in her eye, that
another young gentleman had kindly offered to do her that favor.
It is said that under certain conditions even a straw may break a
camel's back, but this refusal of Nellie's was no straw to Matthew. It
was rather a sledge hammer blow, which brought bad temper and made him
desperately angry.
He seized his hat, and without further conversation with any one, left
the house and strode sullenly down the street. At the first corner he
turned up a by path, and then ran across lots to the main street, and
entered a drinking saloon.
"Why did you play, then?" the bartender was asking savagely, addressing
a rough looking boy, Tim Short by name. "You have owed me for two
months, and now here is another game of billiards to charge."
"I thought I should beat," said Tim, with a discouraged and demoralized
look.
"That's what you've thought every time, but that don't pay me. I'm going
to have my money now. If you don't pay, I will get it from your father;
so come, square up, and be quick about it."
"I will settle on pay day."
"No, that won't do; you have promised that before. Either give me
something for security or I will see your father tomorrow."
"How much is the whole bill?" asked Matthew.
"One dollar," replied the bartender.
"Here, Tim, is the dollar. I will lend it to you. Pay him and come with
me."
Young Short clutched the dollar eagerly, and turned it over to his
creditor with evident reluctance.
"Come, Tim," went on Matthew, "let us go home; it is late for us to be
out."
The latter looked upon Matthew as his benefactor, and followed him
promptly into the street. When the two were quite alone by themselves,
De Vere took his companion by the arm and said:
"I'm in luck finding you, Tim. I rushed down to the saloon, but I was
afraid you had gone home, it is so late."
"And I'm better off than you to have my bill paid. How is it you are in
luck, and paying out money so free?"
"Never mind the money, Tim," De Vere replied nervously. "I want you to
do me a favor. Will you?"
"Will I? Well, I should think I would."
"Will you promise never to mention what I say to any one?"
"I promise."
"It would get us both into trouble if you should, Tim."
"But it ain't nothin' so awful bad, is it, Matthew?" asked Tim, with a
tremor of alarm in his voice.
"I think I can trust you, Tim," replied De Vere, ignoring his
companion's question.
"I know you can, after all you have done for me," replied Tim
gratefully.
De Vere drew young Short close to him as they turned into a dark, narrow
street.
"Tim," said he, in suppressed agitation, "you know those tall oak trees
on the old Booker road?"
"What, them by the cave in the big rock, do you mean?"
"Yes, that's the place."
Young Short commenced to breathe fast with excitement.
"You know, Tim," said De Vere, scarcely above a whisper, "you know the
bushes and rock together furnish a good hiding place."
"I should think they would," responded Tim dubiously.
"We've got some work to do there."
"What, not tonight?"
"Yes, as soon as we can get there, or it will be too late."
"Don't you think it's too late now, Matthew?" suggested Tim.
"I tell you to come along," commanded De Vere in anything but a pleasant
mood.
"You didn't tell me what you are going there for."
"I have good reasons for going there. I want to get square with a
fellow," responded Matthew, with a ring of revenge in his voice.
"But couldn't you do it just as well alone?"
"No, I couldn't."
"Afraid?" queried Tim.
This question did not have a good effect upon Matthew's nerves, but he
was too prudent to fly into a passion with Tim at this time.
"Who is this fellow?" asked young Short doggedly, after a little
silence.
"Fred Worthington," answered De Vere bitterly. "I'll show him that he
can't interfere with me."
"Fred Worthington!" echoed Tim; and he stopped short where he was.
"I think we had better get some good clubs," said De Vere.
"And then we will get the worst of it," replied Tim. "I know Fred
Worthington too well to take any chances on him."
"But we will jump out upon him when he is not expecting us," urged
Matthew.
It was hard work to screw Tim's courage up to the necessary point, but
his sense of obligation to Matthew finally overcame his well founded
fears of Fred Worthington's strong arms, and he promised to take part in
the disappointed rival's dastardly plot.
The point to which De Vere led his rascally associate was close beside
the path along which Fred Worthington would have to pass on his way home
from Dr. Dutton's. Although not far beyond the limits of the village, it
was a lonely spot, with no houses near by, and the two young highwaymen
could not have found a more suitable place to put their cruel design
into execution.
Crouching behind the bushes, the cowardly pair lay in wait, each
grasping a heavy stick in his hand, ready to dart out and rain
revengeful blows upon their innocent victim.