THE BETTER MAN
"Eleanor, dear, do you know who the two Indian Chiefs were who appeared
so mysteriously at our 'Feast of Mondamin'? They followed Lillian and me
about all evening and wouldn't take off their masks."
Eleanor was propped up in a big, four-post mahogany bed with half a
dozen pillows under her lame shoulder. One arm and shoulder were tightly
bandaged. Eleanor had had a serious time since her accident. For
rheumatism, caused by her exposure to the rain, had set in in the
strained shoulder. She was now much better, though still feeling a good
deal used up, and she found it very difficult to move.
Eleanor turned her head and smiled languidly at the excited Madge.
"Of course I don't know who the Indians were. Dear me, I had forgotten
all about them. I suppose they must have been Mrs. Preston's and Miss
Betsey's burglars. Has any one caught them?" Eleanor was getting
interested.
"I should say not," giggled Madge cheerfully. "Those Indian braves were
no other persons than our highly respected friends, Mr. Tom Curtis and
Mr. George Robinson! The sillies came all the way here just to be
present at the corn roast, and then rushed off without telling us who
they were. Tom was awfully cross because I never mentioned their
appearance at the feast in any of my first letters. But I forgot all
about them, there has been so much else going on. Only in my last letter
I just happened to say that Mr. Preston had never been able to find out
anything about his burglars, and that the two men dressed as Indians,
whom Mr. Preston had always suspected, had disappeared."
Eleanor laughed. "Of course Tom had to 'fess up' after that, didn't he?
Tom would so hate to do anything that might arouse suspicion. I think
Tom Curtis is the most honorable boy I ever knew. Don't you?" asked
Eleanor.
"Of course I do," answered Madge emphatically. "By the way, Tom and
George will be back in a short time now with the motor launch. As soon
as you are well enough we shall probably start off again, though our
holiday time is almost over. You and I have distinguished ourselves by
getting lost on this houseboat trip, haven't we, Nellie, dear? Only it
is the old story. It was my fault that I got into trouble, while yours
was only an accident, you poor thing!" Madge patted Eleanor's hand
softly.
The bedroom door now opened to admit Phyllis and Lillian. Phil carried a
large dish of ginger cookies, hot from the oven, and Lillian a platter
heaped with a pile of snowy popcorn. Both girls planted themselves on
the side of Eleanor's bed.
"Phil, I thought you and Lillian promised to go walking with Harry Sears
and Jack Bolling," protested Madge. "I was to take care of Nellie this
afternoon while Miss Jenny Ann and Miss Betsey drove with Mrs. Preston
to look at the 'ha'nted house' we have talked so much about."
Lillian shook her golden head calmly. "Did not want to go walking," she
remarked calmly. "Phil and I broke our engagements. We decided that we
would much rather stay with you and Nellie." She smiled and gave Eleanor
a hug. "Cook is going to send up a big pitcher of lemonade in a few
minutes. Who wouldn't rather stay at home than go walking with two
tiresome boys on an afternoon like this?"
"You girls are terribly good and unselfish about me," exclaimed Eleanor.
"It's worth being ill, and having a sprained shoulder, and being rescued
by an old gypsy woman and a strange looking man to----" Eleanor stopped
short. Her face flushed painfully and her eyes filled with tears. "Oh!"
she exclaimed, "I'm so sorry I have broken my word. I promised not to
tell. Please, please, don't anybody ask me any questions, for I can't
answer them even to please you girls."
Lillian looked mystified and extremely curious. Phyllis and Madge gazed
at each other blankly. Neither of them spoke, but they were both
concerned with the same question. Could it be possible that Nellie had
also run across the old gypsy woman and the man who had held Madge a
prisoner until Phil and David had rescued her? But then, Eleanor had
been found several miles from the spot where the two old people were in
hiding when Madge ran across them.
The little captain made up her mind to one thing; she would not trouble
Eleanor with questions. But she would ask David if he thought his
mysterious acquaintances were still in the neighborhood. Neither she nor
Phil had ever spoken of them, though they had never ceased to wonder at
David's knowing such peculiar people.
"Is David Brewster going for a walk with Jack and Harry?" inquired Madge
casually.
Lillian shook her head. "Of course not," she replied. "David is going
off on his usual secret mission. He goes on one every single
afternoon!"
"It doesn't concern any one but him, does it?"
Lillian shrugged her shoulders. "I am certainly not in the least
interested," she answered disdainfully. "I think he is the rudest person
I ever met."
Unfortunately, there were other members of the boat party who were much
concerned with David's peculiar behavior. Harry Sears and Jack Bolling
were rather bored with their stay on the Preston farm since Eleanor's
accident. The girls devoted all their time to nursing Eleanor; they
could rarely be persuaded to take a walk or a drive, or to stir up a
lark of any kind. Neither Harry nor Jack, who were from the city, felt
the least interest in the farm work. David spent every morning in the
fields with Mr. Preston. So Harry and Jack, having nothing else to think
about, began to worry and pry into David's actions. It was strange that
the boy went away every afternoon and never told any one where he was
going, nor spoke afterward of what he had done or where he had been!
Jack Bolling did not really care a great deal about Brewster's affairs,
but Harry Sears was a regular "Paul Pry." He had made up his mind to
find out what Brewster was "after" on these afternoons when he
"sneaked" off and hid himself.
Just before Jack and Harry started on their walk David Brewster came out
on the side porch of the Preston house with his coat pockets bulging
with flat, hard packages. He had his hat pulled down over his eyes, and
was hurrying off without looking either to the right or left, when Harry
Sears called out: "Where are you off to, Brewster? If you are going for
a walk, Bolling and I would like to go with you. We are looking for
something to do."
David turned red. It was unexpected friendliness for Harry Sears to
suggest coming for a walk with him. Harry usually never noticed David at
all, except to order him about at every possible opportunity.
But David was resolute. He particularly needed to be alone on this
afternoon. Besides his usual occupation, he must make up his mind how he
could go about restoring to the Prestons and Miss Taylor their stolen
property.
"I'm off on personal business, Mr. Sears," he returned politely. "I
can't let any one else come along."
"Well, you are a nice, sociable person, Brewster," sneered Harry. "Sorry
to have intruded. I might have known better."
David swung out of the yard without answering. It never occurred to him
to glance back to see what Sears and Bolling were doing.
"Let's go after the fellow, Bolling," proposed Harry. "We have nothing
else to do this afternoon. It would be rather good fun to find out what
knavery the chap is up to and to show him off before the girls. I
actually believe that Madge Morton and Phyllis Alden like the common
fellow. Maybe they think Brewster is a kind of hero; he is so silent,
dark and sullen, like the hero chap in a weepy sort of play."
Jack Bolling hesitated. "I don't think it is square of us to spy on
Brewster, no matter what he is doing," he argued.
"I _do_," returned Harry briefly. "If he isn't up to something he has no
business doing, what harm is there in our chancing to run across
him--quite by accident, of course? If he is up to some deviltry, it is
our business to find it out."
David had turned a corner in the road and had jumped over a low stone
fence into a field when the other two young men started after him.
Harry soon espied David, and he and Jack tramped after him cautiously,
always keeping at a safe distance.
But David Brewster was wholly unaware that he was being followed. He
hurried from one field to another until he came to a meadow that had
been left uncultivated for a number of years. It was uneven, running
into little hills and valleys, with big rocks jutting out of the earth.
One of these rocks formed a complete screen. David walked straight
toward this spot as though he were accustomed to going to it. He lay
down on the grass under the rock. On his way to his retreat he had made
up his mind how he should try to return the stolen goods to the rightful
owners, so there was nothing to keep him from his regular occupation.
David pulled out of his pocket one of the small, flat objects that he
carried and almost completely concealed it with his body as he leaned
over it.
A few minutes later Harry Sears crept up on tip-toe from the back of the
rock. Jack Bolling was considerably farther off. He meant to give David
some warning of his presence before he approached him.
Harry Sears lay down flat on top of the rock. He made a sudden dive
toward David, grabbing at the object that David held in his hand.
"What have you there?" he demanded. "Out with it! You've got to tell
what you do every afternoon, hiding off by yourself."
David Brewster sprang to his feet, his face white with passion. He
thrust the object that Harry coveted back into his pocket.
"Get up from there!" he shouted hoarsely. "What do you mean by spying on
me like this? What business is it of yours how I spend my time? I am
answerable to Tom Curtis, not to you. Here is your friend, Mr. Bolling,
sneaking behind you on the same errand; and I suppose you both think you
are gentlemen," he sneered.
"Oh, come, Brewster," interrupted Jack Bolling apologetically, "I
suppose Harry and I were overdoing things a bit to come over here after
you. But there is no use getting so all-fired angry. If you are not up
to mischief, why do you care if we do happen to come up with you?"
"Because I care to keep my own business to myself," answered David.
"Look here, you fellow, don't be impertinent," broke in Harry Sears
coolly, as though David had scarcely the right to speak to him.
David felt a blind, hot rage sweep over him. The boy was no longer
master of himself. Some day, when he learned to control this white heat
of passion, it was to make him a great power for good in the world. Now
his rage was the master.
"Take care!" he called suddenly to Harry. He swung himself up on the
rock opposite Harry, forcing his opponent into an open place in the
field. Then David let loose a swinging blow with his closed fist.
Harry and David were evenly matched fighters. Harry was taller and
older, and had been trained as a boxer in school and college gymnasiums;
but David was a firmly built fellow, of medium height, with muscles as
hard as iron from his work in the open. In addition, David was furiously
angry.
Harry parried the first blow with his left arm, then made a lunge at
David.
"Here, you fellows, cut that out!" commanded Jack Bolling. "You are
almost men. Don't scrap like a couple of schoolboys. You know the women
in our party will be disgusted with you."
Neither Harry nor David paid the least attention to Jack's excellent
advice. Both fighters had their blood up. Harry's face was crimson and
David's white. Few blows were struck, because David made a headlong rush
at his opponent and the combatants wrestled back and forth, each boy
trying to force the other on the ground. It was by sheer force of
determination that David won. David got one hand loose and struck Harry
over the eye. Harry went down with a sudden crash. His head struck the
earth with a whack that temporarily put him out of the fight.
But David kept his knee on Harry's chest. He made no effort to get up.
His face was still working with anger.
"Say, get off of Sears, Brewster, can't you?" growled Jack Bolling. "You
see he is down and out and you've won the fight. Don't you know that the
rules of the game won't let you hit a man when he is down?"
David straightened up and stood upright. "Thank you, Bolling," he said
curtly. "I wasn't a sport and I am glad you reminded me of it. I was too
angry with Sears to want to quit the fight."
Harry was sitting upon the ground, looking greatly chagrined. He had a
bruise over one eye and the place was rapidly swelling.
"I expect I ought to apologize to you, Sears, for not having let you
alone when you were down," remarked David proudly. "But in the future
you will kindly leave my private affairs alone."
David made off across the fields. He hoped to be able to get back to the
Preston house before Miss Betsey Taylor returned from her ride to the
haunted house. He was lucky enough to find Miss Betsey still out. As
David passed through the hall he was glad to find her bedroom door open.
He had just time enough to slip into her room and thrust a red cotton
handkerchief, which was tied up in a curious knot, under Miss Betsey's
pillow, when he thought he heard some one about to enter the room.
David hurried out into the hall just as Madge and Phyllis passed by.
Both girls nodded to David in a friendly fashion, though Madge's
expressive face was alive with the question: "What is David Brewster
doing in Miss Betsey's room?"