A Strange Conversation
Barry and Kent surveyed the grinning Ford boys for a moment in silence,
“the wind taken right out of their sails,” as Kent said afterwards. Then
Barry grunted.
“Where’d you fellows hear about that lodge?” he demanded.
“That won’t be much trouble to answer,” Kent declared, before either of
the boys could speak.
“They have been to your house, and Pearl told Mac. Whatever you tell one
of them, you tell the other.”
Mac’s only answer to the charge was a bland grin which admitted nothing,
but Barry knew that Kent was right. His sister Pearl was an avowed
friend of Mac’s, and the school chatter always linked their names
together.
“I might have known it,” Barry said. “Well, as far as that goes, it
wasn’t any secret from you fellows, but it mustn’t get all over town.
I’ll warn Pearl to keep it quiet. I suppose you’ll want to go along.”
“Do we!” cried Tim. “Try and leave us home!”
“What do you think about skating up Buffalo River to the lake?” Kent
asked.
“Good idea,” Mac approved. “There are a couple of places where we’ll
have to leave the ice and hike.”
“I know that,” Barry acknowledged. “But we can skate most of the way.
How much of the story did Pearl tell you?”
They stood under the street light in a group, and the Ford boys told
what they had learned. Pearl knew most of the events that had taken
place at Bluff Lodge, and with only a few details Barry completed the
story. All the boys were now more eager than ever before to go.
“Let’s keep the mystery part a secret,” Kent urged. “We’ll simply give
out the information that we are going on a Christmas-vacation camping
trip. That is partly true and is as much as anyone else needs to know.”
“Do you think we’ll run afoul of Wolf and his bunch?” Tim asked.
“I hardly think so,” was Barry’s reply. “We won’t let them worry us if
we do see them. Well, I want to get on home and do a little studying.
Are you twins through with yours?”
It developed that the twins had simply gone out for a walk after their
evening meal and had dropped in first at Kent’s and then at Barry’s
home. It was the custom of the four boys to stroll some after supper and
then buckle down to their studies. They all made fair grades in school,
and Kent was the outstanding one among them.
“Are you fellows going to win that soccer game against Berkley?” Kent
asked the Fords, as they lingered for a moment in front of Barry’s door.
His question immediately plunged them into a discussion concerning the
soccer game, now only two days off. Tim and Mac were on the team, but
Kent and Barry had cast in their lots with the gymnasium group.
They finally separated, somewhat reluctant to split up, as they were
devoted friends, and the study table was less to be desired than their
companionship. But as Mac expressed it, “all good things have to come to
an end, even a plate of ice cream!” and with that the soccer players
started off on a sprint around the corner, while Barry and Kent went to
their front doors with less forceful energy.
Two days later Cloverfield went to Berkley to play soccer. The team had
gone down earlier in the day in a big bus, and the rooters followed in
cars and on the train. Barry and Kent decided to go by rail, as it was a
short trip and not too expensive, so they caught the proper train and
were soon in the small town and on their way to the athletic field.
The game was a stirring one, and the two boys in the stand were gripped
by it. The two teams battled up and down the field fiercely, driving the
ball forward and being hurled back. It became so exciting that Barry and
Kent left the stand and followed the teams from one end of the field to
the other.
“Too doggone cold to sit in the stand today, anyway,” Barry said.
Both teams were battling for a secure position in the school conference,
and victory today meant something. The boys who had run out on the field
in the short trousers and thin, sleeveless jerseys were now warm and
glowing with the swift running and kicking and blocking. It seemed as
though it must end in a scoreless tie.
Mac and Tim had been battling to the limit. Tim bore down on a Berkley
kicker and leaped into the air, blocking the sailing ball. Racing around
the almost spent player, Tim dashed into position to kick the ball
across the goal line. But the safety man was facing him, ready to boot
the football far down the field and out of danger. Just then Tim saw his
brother cut loose and leave the tangled group. Mac’s voice reached him
in husky pleading.
Tim kicked the ball across on an angle, and Mac’s toe met it with a
mighty boot that abruptly changed its course. Caught off guard, the goal
tender made a mad dive for the oncoming ball. But he was a fraction too
late, and the soccer ball flashed across for the first goal and point.
Kent and Barry joined enthusiastically in the wild cheer that went up
from Cloverfield rooters. In the next six minutes that remained, Berkley
fought fiercely to even the score, but Cloverfield fought as grimly to
turn them back and prevent them from scoring. In this they were
successful, and the game ended with a victory in favor of the visiting
team by the score of one to nothing.
“Great work that the twins did,” approved Barry, as they followed the
crowd out of the stand section.
“You’re right,” nodded Kent. “That gives us the edge on the
championship. We’ll congratulate the boys when we see them at home.”
They found quite a crowd assembled at the station, and their train was
not due for some time. There was a holiday spirit among the people, and
the station was decorated with wreaths and sprigs of Christmas greens.
Toys and candy were displayed in one case. The stoves at each end of the
station glowed, and the heat felt good.
Kent and Barry joined a group of home school boys and chatted. Presently
Barry left the circle and walked over to the counter to buy a newspaper.
Obtaining one, he glanced over the headlines and then turned to the
sport page. There were some comments on games and players, and he sat
down on a high-backed station seat to read. On the other side two men
were seated and talking, but Barry was too absorbed even to glance their
way. It was a chance phrase that caught his attention.
“Anything new on that Bluff Lodge deal?” a voice asked.
The voice that answered was coarse and husky. “No. The old lady don’t
want to accept my price. But let her hold out if she wants to. The value
don’t go up any. Not on that place.”
There was a pause. Barry’s eyes were still on the print, but he did not
see it. His ears were listening keenly. It was possible that they were
talking about some other place than the haunted lodge. The words of the
first man came to him once more.
“Nobody will rent the place. She’ll be ready to give it away before
long.”
At that moment the train puffed into the station, drowning out every
other sound. Barry growled inwardly. “It would have to get in just at
this moment!” Folding his paper, he stood up casually and looked after
the two men, who were walking out to board the train. One was tall and
thin, and the other was short and chunky. He was unable to see the face
of either one clearly.
“Now I wonder who those fellows are,” he mused. “No doubt Dad will know
them, if they are connected in any way with Bluff Lodge. And from the
way they talked, they have an interest in that place.”