The Rising Wind
“Then he didn’t go to the circus, after all,” remarked Tubby, as
though that one thought occupied his mind; truth to tell, had the
stout scout been given his own choice in the matter, he might have
preferred seeing the acrobats and the tightrope walkers under the
big round-top, rather than listen to the warblings of those who were
to take part in the concert.
“He seems to hesitate and look around him,” said Rob, meaningly, to
Ralph Jeffords. “What sort of a building is that, anyhow? It looks
as though it might be given up to offices and shops.”
“Just what the Handy Building is,” explained Ralph. “There are a lot
of different business people represented there. Some people call it
the Arcade Building. You can see plenty of lights there, for most of
the offices keep open till ten o’clock at night. Among others I
might mention who occupy space in there, Rob, is one Hardman, a
curio dealer. I’ve been in his rooms lots of times when I had some
money I felt like investing in old coins and foreign postage stamps
for my collection.”
“Stamps!”
Rob only repeated the word after the other, but there was a world of
meaning connected with the way he did it. Like a flash there came to
him the remembrance of the loss Ralph had claimed to have suffered,
when he failed to discover the several packets of valuable stamps
where he believed he had left them, ready for mailing back to a city
dealer from whom he had received them for making selections.
Could it be possible that Peleg had yielded to some sudden
temptation, and purloined those packets? Was his errand to Wyoming
really to dispose of the stamps, after he had taken them from the
sheets to which they had been slenderly attached?
Rob was conscious of a chilly feeling around the region of his heart
as he continued to watch the boy standing there. It was not
difficult to imagine Peleg battling with the strong temptation. That
might account for his looking dubiously up at the building, and
hesitating before taking a fatal step in wrong-doing.
“Well, he’s gone in!” said Sim, presently. “I guess Peleg really had
some business in town, and didn’t mean to go to the show. I c’n see
that all sorts of people have offices in that building, lawyers,
doctors and even a curio dealer. Do we go on now, Ralph, or are you
meaning to wait for Peleg?”
“Oh! we’re going on, all right, Sim; Peleg said nothing about
wanting to attend the entertainment. Perhaps, after he’s through
with his _important business_ here he may drift back to the circus
lot. That would be more in his line, I guess. Come on.”
“What were those packets of stamps worth, Ralph?” Rob managed to ask
without being overheard by any of the others, for Tubby and Andy
chanced to be engaged in a little dispute concerning something that
had arisen, as with Sim they trudged along ten feet or so in the
rear.
“Something like fifteen dollars, I should say,” replied the other,
gloomily.
Rob knew that it was not so much the value of the missing packets
that bothered Ralph Jeffords as the fact that a boy to whom his
father had been so kind had apparently betrayed a trust, and stolen
from the son of his benefactor.
“And you think Peleg has been pretty keen on making money, do you?”
continued the scout leader.
“Yes, that’s a fact,” he was told, moodily. “I never knew a fellow
more eager to scrape cents and dollars together. He would do any
kind of extra work after hours if only he could make ten cents by
it.”
“But you wouldn’t call him a money-lover, or a miser, would you?”
queried Rob.
“That was what I thought at first, and I didn’t like it one bit,”
Ralph explained, frankly. “So I mentioned the matter to Peleg one
time. He told me that he was the oldest of the children left by his
father when he died. One sister just younger than Peleg works for a
family not a great many miles away from here. The others, three of
them, are in an orphan asylum, you know. Well, would you believe it,
Peleg told me he had an ambition to get enough money together,
somehow, to sooner or later have an humble home, where all the
Pinder children might live together!”
Rob caught his breath.
“That was a noble resolution for Peleg, wasn’t it?” he exclaimed.
“I believed so,” replied Ralph, disconsolately. “It made me think a
heap of the boy, and I tried every way I could to encourage him.
That’s what makes it cut me so hard now, to suspect that he could
steal from me.”
Somehow, what he had heard seemed to encourage Rob more than ever in
his belief that Peleg must be innocent. The circumstances all seemed
to point strongly toward his being guilty; but Rob plucked up fresh
hope after learning what a splendid excuse the boy had given for
scrimping, and saving every cent he could gather together.
In imagination Rob could even see the happy faces of the little
Pinders when they eventually found themselves under a roof of their
own, if such happiness was indeed ever going to come their way.
Brave, loyal, brotherly Peleg, how few boys would have dreamed such
dreams as came to him at night, and visions by day?
“Oh! it doesn’t seem possible that he could be guilty of doing such
a mean thing as taking your stamps, Ralph,” he told the other.
Somehow, even the confidence Rob had in the boy who was under
suspicion seemed to make Ralph Jeffords feel better.
“Your saying that does you credit, Rob,” he told his new friend;
“and because of the faith you seem to feel in him, I’m going to try
again and believe Peleg innocent. But, all the same, that won’t
prevent me from finding out the truth.”
“No, you owe that much to Peleg,” admitted Rob. “One way or the
other, you’ve got to learn the answer to this puzzle. How will you
go about it?”
“There’s one way that might tell the story,” confided Ralph. “I can
come down to town tomorrow morning on some errand, and take occasion
to drop in at the Arcade.”
“You mean to see the curio dealer, and put a few questions to him;
is that the programme, Ralph?”
“Yes. He knows me very well, and would keep my secret,” continued
the other, as he sighed heavily, evidently anticipating the worst.
“I’d have the money with me to buy them back if Peleg did sell them,
because I wouldn’t want Mr. Hardman to have the boy arrested as a
thief. That would leave it all in my hands. I’d have to consult my
father before I decided what I finally ought to do in the matter.”
“Well, something may happen between now and tomorrow to change your
plans. For instance, you may even possibly discover the stamps
somewhere. I’ve hidden things myself, and for a short time forgotten
where I put them. Then somebody else may have taken them, not to
steal them, it might be. Oh! there are lots of loopholes through
which they could have passed. And after you’ve learned the truth
you’re surprised to find how easy it was to misjudge any one.”
“But what else would take Peleg in there?”
“I confess I couldn’t give even a guess,” admitted the scout leader;
“but he said there was some news in that letter he received that
made him want to come to town. For all we know, it might have
something to do with the sister who is in service, or even the three
smaller children in the asylum. Poor Peleg has been dreaming of
doing great things, you know, Ralph.”
“You are certainly the grandest fellow to stand by any one who is
down I ever met!”
“Oh! I don’t know that I’m different from any scout who wears the
khaki, and has taken the scout oath to try and be useful to others.
You’d do just as much if you had the chance, and I know it, Ralph.
But suppose we drop Peleg for the time being, and speak of something
else? The other fellows must be wondering why we keep our heads
together so long, and talk in undertones.”
“I’m agreeable, Rob. Notice how the wind has commenced to rise. It
was quiet when we left home, and now you can hear it rustling
through the trees at a great rate. Do you think it’s going to
storm?”
“I don’t happen to be the weather sharp of the troop,” laughed Rob,
“so you mustn’t depend too much on my prediction.”
He looked up at the sky, and then around him, after which he
ventured to say:
“I think there will be quite a blow during the night, for those
clouds are passing over in a hurry; but it isn’t likely we’ll have
to go home in a rainstorm.”
Apparently, the other trio must have also been paying attention to
the rising wind, for just then Tubby called out:
“Hope you’ve got a gilt-edged fire department in your town, Ralph.
If a fire _did_ happen to break out tonight, with this breeze going,
it would likely eat up a few of your buildings. How about it?”
“Why, we’ve got a pretty good fire department, such as you are apt
to find in towns of this size,” replied the other, seriously. “It’s
partly a volunteer one, of course, and they’ve got quite a few
medals won in State rivalries, competing with other companies. Fact
is, we’re a bit proud of the Wyoming Fire Department. They can smash
windows faster, and get a hose up to a burning house five seconds
quicker than the best of them.”
All of the boys laughed at hearing Ralph say this.
“Whee!” exclaimed Tubby, “I wouldn’t like to be under that old
circus tent if a big storm did come swooping along. I guess it’d go
flying over the mountain-tops like a kite.”
“I was in a circus once when we had a terrific storm,” admitted
Ralph. “I’ll never forget the way the frightened people behaved. The
canvas flapped wildly, and made the most terrifying noises going. We
expected to have the whole business come down about our ears any
minute, but fortunately the wind passed over, and the animals quit
howling so that the people could quiet the youngsters. It was
something awful while it lasted.”
“Are we going inside the hall now?” asked Andy, who had grown tired
of walking around the town seeing the “sights”; for while these may
have amounted to something in Ralph’s estimation, they were very
common in the eyes of fellows who had done so much traveling, and
had even seen considerable of the war in Europe, as well as the
wonders of New York City.
“We might as well, because it’s getting close to the time for the
performance to begin,” the guide replied.
There seemed to be a good many people all moving in the same general
direction as themselves. These were, doubtless, the holders of
tickets to the entertainment that had been the magnet drawing them
to town on this particular night fated to be set down with a red
mark in the history of Wyoming.
Presently they joined the line before the door of the hall in which
the concert was to be held. Apparently it was bound to be a popular
affair. Ralph privately informed his mates that most of the people
were coming just to hear the little girl with the Patti-like voice.
In this way he aroused their curiosity to a high pitch; though none
of them claimed to be fine judges of operatic music, or able to
decide the exact quality of a wonderful voice, still they knew good
singing, and were considerably interested in what Ralph had told
them of the girl who was leading the printed programme as Anna
Burgoyne.
“Her father was connected with the opera over across the water years
ago,” explained Ralph. “Her mother, too, used to sing in public, so
you see Anna comes by her wonderful voice honestly. But just you
wait and see, that’s all.”
They found the hall already well filled with an audience that
counted as most of the people worth while in and around Wyoming;
though the circus doubtless served to attract quite a crowd, as it
always does.