"THIS TIME IS AS GOOD AS ANY OTHER"
"There he is!" breathed Greg, who ran with the foremost rank of pursuing
boys, as they turned into Abbott Street.
A policeman saw the commotion and ran fast after the crowd of
youngsters. As the officer caught up with Ross he found out that they
were "chasing Fits."
Though the man ahead ran rapidly, the foremost boys gradually overtook
him. The policeman, too, was well in the front of the running.
Then the fugitive stumbled and fell to the ground. He sat up, but made
no further move to get away.
"I may as well give meself up," remarked the recent fugitive resignedly.
"The law is always sure to git a feller."
"Why, this isn't Mr. Fits!" ejaculated Dick and Greg in the same accent
of disgust.
"Who's going to gimme fits?" demanded the man, looking stupidly about
him, while the crowd circled him and the policeman peered down into his
face. "Who's going to gimme fits, I ask? Will it be Jack Ryan?"
"This fellow is Dock Breslin, a teamster," muttered the policeman
disgustedly. "Who said it was the thief that the chief wants so badly?"
"I--I thought it was, when I saw him," stammered Greg Holmes, rather
abashed now. "He's the same build as Fits, and looked like him at a
distance. And this man, Breslin, was peering around the corner and
acting suspiciously. He ran away, too, when we started after him."
"I'll go with ye, peaceable like," promised Dock Breslin, getting upon
his feet and addressing the blue coated one. "'Twas Jack himself swore
out the warrant, I suppose."
"What warrant?" demanded the policeman.
"Didn't he swear out one?" insisted Breslin.
"Who?"
"Jack Ryan. 'Twas meself that gave Ryan a big wallopin' this afternoon,
all on account of a bit of a dispute we had. Jack swore he'd be even
with me, and I heard he'd sworn out a warrant against me," explained
Breslin, who had the air of one stupidly rejoicing that his suspense was
ended.
"I heard of no warrant for you, Dock, when the night watch had the
orders read before we came out to-night," replied the policeman.
"Then Jack didn't do it?" demanded Breslin.
"If he did, he didn't let the police know about it," laughed the
policeman. "If there'd been a warrant against you, Dock, the orders
would have been read to the night watch at the station house. Did you
run from the boys because you thought there was a warrant against you?"
"I did," the teamster admitted.
"Then Jack Ryan will be laughing at you to-morrow," grinned the officer.
"Go home, Breslin, and behave yourself. Boys, you'd better scatter."
It was not long after that that Gridley Grammar School boys were at home
and in bed. By morning they were on the street again, as there was still
some of the holiday vacation left.
There was news, too, this morning. The Dodge house had been entered late
in the night, but the Dodge coachman, returning late, had caught sight
of a burglar near an open dining room window. In investigating more
closely the coachman had scared the burglar, who leaped from the window,
struck the coachman over the head, and then vanished. But the coachman's
description of his assailant tallied with the personal appearance of Mr.
Fits.
"Then the bold scoundrel is still operating in Gridley?" passed from
mouth to mouth. "What nerve!"
"The thief is likely to stay here for a night or two longer," the chief
of police warned business men along Main Street. "The truth appears to
be that the rascal whom the boys have named Mr. Fits is without funds to
get away. The loot that Dick & Co. found out at the camp was what the
scoundrel had expected to take away with him and sell. That stuff not
being in his possession, he must steal something else on which to raise
money before he can go far from here."
"Why doesn't the rascal try some other town, then, where he's not as
well known?" inquired Mr. Dodge.
"Because he has houses that he and his confederates, now locked up in
jail, had spotted for robbery," replied the police chief. "Burglars
don't usually enter a house until they've looked it well over and know
just about what they expect to find. I'll have all my men alert
to-night, and well to do people will do well to be on the lookout, too.
As soon as this 'Mr. Fits' gets loot enough he'll probably leave
Gridley."
That same forenoon Dick, Dave and Tom, acting as a self-appointed
committee, called on Lawyer Ripley at that gentleman's office. They
thanked the lawyer for the use of the camp, and mentioned the burning
down of the cook shack.
Hardly had they begun to speak when Fred Ripley sauntered into his
father's office. Silently Fred stepped over to a part of the office that
lay behind his father's back.
"How did the fire happen?" inquired the lawyer. "Some of you young men
just a bit frisky and careless?"
Fred, from behind his father, scowled at the three Grammar School boys.
It was plain enough that he dreaded having his father told the truth.
Nor did Dick and his chums want to tell if it could be avoided. They had
all of a schoolboy's aversion to carrying tales.
"No, sir; it wasn't carelessness on the part of any of our party,"
Prescott answered truthfully.
"Oh, well, it doesn't matter, at any rate," the lawyer assured them.
"The whole camp is worth nothing in these days, and the shack was the
least valuable part of all. If it's burned down, then it's gone. Mrs.
Dexter wouldn't want any of you boys made uncomfortable over the affair
for a moment, so you needn't tell me another word about it. But the
cabin is still standing, and you may want to use it again. As Mrs.
Dexter's attorney and agent, I offer you the use of it at any time when
you please. You needn't even come to ask my permission. The use of the
cabin belongs solely to you boys, and it's yours at any time without
asking."
Dick & Co. took their leave promptly, and Fred escaped, for the time
being, an investigation by his stern father.
"I hear that word is going around to the wealthy people in town to look
out for Mr. Fits to-night," remarked Tom, as the trio of Grammar School
boys returned to the street.
"That lets our families out," laughed Dick.
"Are you so very sure of that?" Dave inquired. "Fits might pay one of
our homes a visit by way of revenge--yours, for instance, Dick."
"I don't believe he'll do it, just for revenge," Prescott replied, with
a shake of his head. "Fits is probably superstitious, and he has most
likely come to the conclusion that he runs to bad luck in pursuing our
crowd. All of his ill luck, and that of his confederates, now in jail,
has come through bothering us."
"Don't be too sure that you won't have another visit from the rascal,"
warned Tom. "Dick, Mr. Fits knows you're the leader of our crowd, and
that's why he'll single out your house, if any, for a visit of revenge."
"I'd like to stay awake and see," smiled Dick. "Yet I'm almost certain
that I'd fall into a sound doze before midnight."
During the day there were a lot of the Central Grammar School boys to be
met, and each one had to have some account of the wonderful snowbound
days. By evening Dick had very nearly forgotten the possible danger from
Mr. Fits.
After supper Dave sauntered into the Prescott store.
"Dan wasn't out to-day," Dave announced. "At least, if he was, he failed
to see any of us. Let's walk down to his house and see if anything is
wrong with him."
Dick agreeing, the two chums turned down a dark side street on their way
to Dalzell's.
At the darkest point on the street the two boys had to pass a collection
of shanty like buildings, which contained a contractor's offices, a
junk-shop, a second hand dealer's storehouse and a big stable in which
the contractor's work-horses were kept.
"These old rookeries will go by when Gridley real estate gets to be just
a little more valuable," grunted Dave, as he picked his way gingerly in
the darksome spot.
"It's really a disgrace to the town, this place," replied Dick. "Hullo!
Who's moving there? O-o-oh--say!"
They were just at the head of the narrow alley-way leading down to the
stable. Up this alley-way a man had been picking his prowling way in the
dark. At the hail from Dick Prescott the man turned, as though to glide
back into the shadow.
But now, suddenly, the fellow wheeled like a flash and bounded into the
path of the two Grammar School boys.
"I reckon this time will be as good as any other!" announced Mr. Fits,
with an ugly laugh that showed his fang like teeth.