DACE PERRY'S CRAFTINESS.
The captain of the cross-country team was a shining example of what
wrong bringing-up can do for some boys. His doting mother had spoiled
him, and his father, a wealthy Denver mining-man, had for years been
too busy accumulating money to pay any attention to him. When his wife
died, the elder Perry suddenly realized that he had an unmanageable son
on his hands.
While his mother lived, Perry had gone the pace. He was only sixteen
when she died, but for more than a year he had been traveling in fast
company, drinking and gambling, and doing his best to make, what he was
pleased to call, a "thoroughbred" out of himself. His doting mother had
been lenient and easily deceived. She had stood between Perry and his
father, and when the latter occasionally refused to supply the boy with
money she would give it to him out of her own allowance.
With the passing of Mrs. Perry all this was changed. Mr. Perry, in
order to get Dace away from dissipated Denver companions, shipped him
off to Phoenix and left him there in charge of a friend who happened
to be the principal of the Phoenix High School. This was a change
for the better in some ways. Dace had naturally a splendid physique,
and he had an overweening pride in becoming first in high-school
athletics, no matter how he might stand in his studies. He cut out the
"budge," as he would have called liquor, because it interfered with
his physical development; also he cut out smoking for the same reason.
But he continued to gamble, and the poor old professor was as easily
hoodwinked as Mrs. Perry had been.
Perry, Sr., kept his son rigidly to a small allowance. As a result
Dace was always head over heels in debt, for, although an inveterate
gambler, he was not much more than an amateur at the game, though
learning the tricks of the trade fast enough.
When Matt came to the school he aroused Perry's instant and unreasoning
dislike. From the best athlete among the seniors Perry was relegated
to the position of second best; and this, for one of his spoiled
disposition and arrogant ways, constituted an offense not to be
forgiven. Now, for the first time, the strained relations existing
between Matt and Perry had come to an open break.
Baffled in his plot to give Matt a thrashing, Perry trotted sullenly
and silently back toward the bridge across the canal. Before the bridge
was reached his spirits had brightened a little, for his crafty mind
had found something in the present situation that pleased him.
"See here, fellows," said Perry abruptly, coming to a halt and
gathering his followers around him, "you all saw Matt King throw that
stone at Clip, didn't you?"
"It wasn't him," piped Tubbits Drake; "it was Nutmegs, although it
looked mighty like King did it."
"I say it was King," scowled Perry.
"Oh, well," grumbled Tubbits, "if you say it was King, all right."
Tubbits was an impecunious brother. He was always trying to borrow
two-bits--in other words, a quarter--from his large and select list
of acquaintances, and the habit had resulted in the nickname of
"Two-bits," later shortened to "Tubbits."
"I say it," went on Perry, "and you've all got to swear to it. Savvy?
If any one says anything different, I'll punch his head. Chums are like
those French guys in the 'Three Musketeers'--one for all, and all for
one. What one chum does, the other has to stand for. King and Nutmegs
are chums, see? So, even if King didn't really throw that rock, he'll
have to take the consequences on Chub's account. Clip _thinks_ King did
it, and there's been trouble. Just let Clip keep on thinking the way
he does."
"Sure," said Ratty Spangler. "If anybody wants to know about who shied
the rock, we'll all say it was the tenderfoot."
"That's all," responded Perry curtly, and trotted on to the bridge.
Just as Perry had imagined would be the case when he brought about
this peculiar understanding concerning the one who threw the stone,
Tom Clipperton was on the other side of the canal, waiting for his
team-mates to come up with him. Clipperton's scanty running-garb was
wet through, but that was a mere trifle and didn't bother him. He had
bound a handkerchief about his injured forehead, and was thinking
moodily of the easy way in which he had been handled by Matt. Perry
went up to him and dropped a friendly hand on his shoulder.
"How're you coming, Clip?" he asked.
Clipperton grunted petulantly, shook off the hand and started along the
road. Perry, used to his moods, fell in at his side and caught step
with him.
"It was a low-down trick, Clip," said Perry, with feigned sympathy,
"but just about what any one could expect from a fellow like King."
"He threw the rock," snarled Clipperton, hate throbbing in his voice.
"I didn't see the rock in his hand. When it hit me his hand was in the
air. Did any of the rest of you see him?"
"We all saw him make that pass at you!" averred Ratty Spangler. "Didn't
we, fellers?"
"We did!" all the rest answered as one.
The breath came sharp through Clipperton's lips. "He'll pay for it," he
hissed. "You watch my smoke and see."
"That's the talk!" encouraged Perry craftily. "That tenderfoot ought
to be kicked out of the school--he ain't fit for decent fellows to
associate with. If that old one-legged freak hadn't pulled a gun on us,
Clip, we'd have settled with King for what he did to you right there.
How are you going to get even with him?"
"I know how," growled Clipperton. "I'll meet him again. I'll meet him
as many times as I have to until I do him up."
"You're too headstrong, Clip," returned Perry, "if you don't mind my
saying so. That's no way to make a saw-off with Matt King. Be sly. Go
after him in a way he don't expect. That's your cue if you want to get
_him_--just take it from me."
Clipperton turned a half-distrustful look on Perry.
"I'm no coward," he muttered. "Man to man. That's the way to settle
everything."
"Sure, when you're dealing with a fellow of the right sort. But what's
Matt King? Why, Clip, he was afraid of you from the start, and that's
the reason he tried to get in his work at long range with the stone."
"D'you think that?" demanded Clipperton huskily.
"No think about it; it's a lead-pipe cinch. When you balance accounts
with a fellow like that go after him in his own way."
"What would you do?"
"You're a crack shot, Clip," observed Perry. "I know that because I saw
you making bull's-eyes in the shooting-gallery the other day."
Clipperton looked startled.
"What's my shooting got to do with it?"
"Well," went on Perry, "have you got a gun, or can you get one?"
Tubbits and Ratty Spangler grew morbidly apprehensive.
"Looky here, Dace," demurred Tubbits, "don't let Clip go and do
anything rash."
"Don't be a fool," snapped Perry. "I reckon I've got some sense left.
Old Peg-leg drew a cannon on us, but I'm too well up in law to advise
Clip to pull a gun on anybody--even Matt King." His voice grew friendly
and confidential as he went on talking with Clipperton. "Can you get a
pistol and stuff it in your pocket when you come to the try-out this
afternoon, Clip?"
"Yes," was the reply. "What do you want me to do with it?"
Perry turned to the boys behind.
"Jog along, you fellows," said he; "Clip and I have got business to
talk over. And mind," he added, as Tubbits, Spangler and the rest moved
off ahead, "keep mum about what you've already heard."
"Mum it is," said the cross-country squad obediently, and drew away
from the plotters.
"Matt King had better take to the cliffs and the cactus," remarked
Ratty Spangler, with a chuckle. "Ginger, there's going to be doings at
the try-out this afternoon. What do you s'pose they want with a gun,
Tubbits?"
The uncertainty was just desperate enough to fill Ratty with delightful
anticipations. He hoped in his little soul that Perry and Clip wouldn't
go far enough to involve the rest of the cross-country team, but he
wanted them to be sure and go as far as they could.
"Blamed if I know," answered Tubbits. "I'm shyer of guns than I am of
rattlesnakes. When that old skeezicks of a Perkins shook that piece of
hardware at us a while ago, I thought I'd throw a fit. Why, the mouth
of it looked as big as the Hoosac Tunnel to me. No, thankee, no guns in
mine."
"We could jerk him up for that," asserted Ratty. "Say, if we'd have him
arrested----"
"Arrest nothin'!" snorted Tubbits. "We'd look pretty small hauling old
Perkins up before a judge and then telling why we'd gone back along
the canal with Perry. Some things are well enough to leave alone--and
that's one of them."
The boys were well into town by then, and the party separated, each
going his different way and wondering what was to happen during the
afternoon.