AN INTERVIEW OF INTEREST
"Well, I shouldn't go back home until your father and your uncle
return," said the senator's son. "Then, if you are arrested, they'll
know exactly what to do."
"It's too bad it happened!" murmured Dave. "I wish I had gotten off to
the West without seeing Aaron Poole. But I suppose there is no use in
crying over spilt milk. I'll have to face the music, and take what
comes."
The three lads went on, and presently came in sight of the farm where
Caspar Potts and Dave had once resided. The ground was now being
cultivated by the man who had the next farm, and the house was
tenantless.
"I've got the key of the house," said Dave. "If you'd like to take a
look inside I'll unlock the door. But it's a very poor place--a big
contrast to the Wadsworth residence."
"And so you used to work here, Dave?" said Phil, gazing around at the
fields of corn and wheat.
"Yes, I've plowed and worked these fields more than once, Phil. And in
those days, I didn't know what it was to have a nice suit of clothes and
good food. But Professor Potts was kind to me, even if he was a bit
eccentric."
"It was a grand thing that you found your folks--and your fortune," said
Roger.
"Yes, and I am thankful from the bottom of my heart."
The three boys entered the deserted house, and Dave showed the way
around. There was the same little cot on which he had been wont to
stretch his weary limbs after a hard day's work in the fields, and there
were the same simple cooking utensils with which he had prepared many a
meal for himself and the old professor. Conditions certainly had
improved wonderfully, and for the time being Dave forgot his trouble
with Aaron Poole. No one could again call him "a poorhouse nobody."
From the cottage the boys walked to the barn. As they entered this
building they heard earnest talking in the rear.
"You are a mean lad, to tease an old man like me!" they heard, in Caspar
Potts's quavering tones. "Why cannot you go away and leave me alone?"
"Don't you call me mean!" came in Nat Poole's voice. "I'll do what I
please, and you can't stop me!"
"I want you to leave me alone," reiterated the old professor.
"I will--when I am done with you. How do you like that, old man?" And
then Nat Poole gave a brutal laugh.
"Oh! oh! Don't smother me!" spluttered Caspar Potts. "Please leave me
alone! You have ruined my clothes!"
"I wonder what's up?" said Dave to his chums, and ran through the barn
to the rear. There he beheld Caspar Potts in a corner. In front of him
stood Nat Poole, holding a big garden syringe in his hands. The syringe
had been filled with a preparation for spraying peach trees, and the son
of the money-lender had discharged the chalk-like fluid all over the
aged professor.
"Nat Poole, what are you up to!" cried Dave, indignantly, and, leaping
forward, he caught the other youth by the shoulder and whirled him
around. "You let Professor Potts alone!"
"Dave!" cried the professor, and his voice showed his joy. "Oh, I am
glad you came. That young man has been teasing me for over a quarter of
an hour, and he just covered me with that spray for the peach-tree
scale."
"What do you mean by doing such a thing?" demanded Dave. "Give me that
syringe." And he wrenched the article from the other youth's grasp. He
looked so determined that Nat became alarmed and backed away several
feet.
"Don't you--you--er--hit me!" cried the money-lender's son.
"What a mean piece of business," observed Roger, as he came up, followed
by Phil. "Nat, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!"
"Oh, you shut up!" grumbled Nat, not knowing what else to say.
"I always thought you were a first-class coward," put in Phil. "Now I am
sure of it."
"This is none of your affair, Phil Lawrence!"
"I should think it was the affair of any person who wanted to see fair
play," answered the shipowner's son.
"Nat, you take your handkerchief and wipe off Mr. Potts's clothes," said
Dave, sternly.
"Eh?" queried the money-lender's son in dismay.
"You heard what I said. Go and do it, and be quick about it."
"I--er--I don't have to."
"Yes, you do. If you don't----" Dave ended by walking over to a barrel
and filling the syringe with the spraying fluid.
"Hi! don't you douse me with that!" yelled the other youth in alarm.
Then he started to run away, but the senator's son caught him by one arm
and Phil caught him by the other.
"You've got no right to hold me!"
"Well, we'll take the right," said Roger, calmly. "Now, Nat, do as Dave
told you."
There was no help for it, and with very bad grace the money-lender's son
drew from his pocket a silk handkerchief and removed what he could of
the fluid from Caspar Potts's clothing. Many spots remained.
"I am afraid the suit is ruined," said the aged professor, sorrowfully.
"Anyway, it will need a thorough cleaning."
"If it is ruined, Nat can pay for it," said Dave, firmly.
"I'll pay for nothing!" grumbled the boy who had done the mischief. He
was short of spending-money, and knew how hard it was to get an extra
dollar from his parent.
"He certainly ought to pay for it," said Caspar Potts. "Some men would
have him locked up for what he has done."
"Humph! Don't talk foolish! It was only a little fun!" grumbled Nat. "I
didn't mean any harm. You can easily get those spots out of your
clothes."
"Did he do anything else to you?" asked Dave of the professor.
"Yes, he plagued me a good deal, and he shoved me down in the cow-yard,"
was the reply. "I was hoping some one would come to drive him away. I
said I'd have the law on him, but he laughed at me, and said nobody else
was around and his word was as good as mine."
"If that isn't Nat to a T!" murmured the senator's son. "Doing the sneak
act every time!"
"Well, we are witnesses against him," put in Phil. He looked at Dave and
suddenly began to grin. "Oh, but this is great!" he cried.
"What's struck you?" queried Dave.
"Oh, nothing, only I reckon we've got a good hold on Mr. Aaron Poole
now--in case he tries to make a complaint against you."
"To be sure we have!" burst out Roger. "He won't dare to do it--after he
knows what Professor Potts can do."
"What are you talking about?" demanded Nat, curiously. "Is my father
going to make a complaint against Dave? What is it for?"
"Maybe you'll learn later--and maybe you won't," answered the senator's
son. "But if you see your father you had better tell him to call it off
as far as Dave is concerned--if he wants to save you."
"Then you've had trouble, eh?"
"No worse than this--if as bad."
"Humph! In that case my father won't believe what you say about me!"
cried Nat, cunningly. And then of a sudden he leaped back, turned, and
ran around a corner of the barn at top speed. He made for the road, and
was soon hidden from view by trees and bushes. Phil and Roger attempted
to catch him, but Dave called them back.
"No use in doing that," said Dave. "Let him go. It will be time enough
to say more when Mr. Poole makes his complaint."
The three youths assisted Caspar Potts in rearranging his toilet, and in
the meantime the aged professor told the lads the details of his trouble
with Nat. The money-lender's son had certainly acted in a despicable
manner, and he deserved to be punished.
"I will leave the matter to Mr. Wadsworth, and to your father and your
uncle," said Professor Potts to Dave. "They will know better what to do
than I."
On the way back to the Wadsworth mansion the boys told of the pistol
incident and the professor became much interested. He agreed with Phil
and Roger that Nat's doings were much worse.
Dave's father and his uncle had returned, and the youth went straight to
them with his tale. Then Mr. Wadsworth came in and was likewise told.
All the men were also informed of what had happened to Caspar Potts.
"I think I see a way of clearing this matter up--if Mr. Poole attempts
to act against Dave," said Mr. Wadsworth. And then he had a long talk
with Professor Potts.
The folks at the mansion had just finished dinner when visitors were
announced. They proved to be Aaron Poole and an officer of the law,
brought along to arrest Dave.
"I think you had better let me engineer this affair," said Mr.
Wadsworth, and so it was agreed. He entered the reception room and shook
hands formally with Aaron Poole.
"I came to get Dave Porter," said the money-lender, stiffly. "I am going
to have him locked up."
"Mr. Poole, will you kindly step into the library with me?" answered Mr.
Wadsworth.
"What for?"
"I wish to have a little conversation with you."
"It won't do any good. I'm going to have that Porter boy arrested, and
that is all there is to it."
"I wished to see you about your son, Nat. Do you know that he stands in
danger of arrest?"
"Arrest! Nat?" queried the money-lender, and the officer of the law
looked at the rich manufacturer with interest.
"Yes. Come into the library, please."
"Want me?" asked the officer.
"No," returned Mr. Wadsworth, shortly, and the man settled back in his
chair, his face showing his disappointment.
Once in the library the manufacturer shut the door with care. He
motioned his visitor to a chair. But Aaron Poole was too impatient to
sit down.
"Now, what's this about my son, Nat?" growled the money-lender.
"I'll tell you," was Mr. Wadsworth's reply, and he related what had
occurred at the old Potts place.
"You expect me to believe this?" snarled Aaron Poole.
"Believe it or not, it is the truth, and I have the three boys to prove
it, and likewise Professor Potts's ruined suit of clothing. Now,"
continued the manufacturer, "I know all about your charge against Dave.
I'll not say that he wasn't careless, because he was. But he meant no
harm, and it is going too far to have him arrested. It would be much
fairer for Professor Potts to have your son locked up, and make you pay
for the suit of clothing in the bargain. Now, the professor thinks a
great deal of Dave, and he is willing to drop his complaint against Nat
if you'll drop your complaint against Dave."
"Oh, so that's the way the wind blows, eh?" snarled Aaron Poole. "Well,
I won't do it!" he snapped. "I'm going to have Dave Porter arrested!"
"If you do, Professor Potts will have Nat arrested, and we'll push our
case just as hard as you push yours, Mr. Poole."
"Humph! I guess this is a plot to free Dave Porter!"
"You can think what you please. This is the way I look at it: Dave was
careless, and his father can give him a lecture on his carelessness. Nat
was brutal, and it is up to you to take him in hand. If he were my son,
I'd give him a good talking to--and maybe I'd thrash him," added the
rich manufacturer, warmly.
"Oh, you are all down on my son--just as you are down on me!" cried
Aaron Poole. "I'll look into this! I'll--I'll----"
"Don't do anything hasty," advised Mr. Wadsworth. "Better talk the
matter over with Nat."
"I'll do it. But I'll not drop this matter! I'll get after Dave Porter
yet!" cried Aaron Poole, and then he stalked out of the library, and,
motioning for the officer of the law to follow him, he left the
mansion.