ACCUSATIONS
Their hopes flared high, then burned so low that they were beginning to
exchange whispers of despair. When a week had passed, then ten days,
they looked at each other hopelessly and each knew what was in the
other's thoughts without the exchange of a word. Timmy's "nerves" had
been nothing compared to Nickie's "jumpiness," as he called it. He
fairly quailed whenever Devlin's footsteps sounded.
The man kept to his own room, except for three consecutive days when he
left the house just before dusk and returned late at night. At those
times, the boys hurried to the attic and fell to work at the window
bars, only to realize at the end of the week, that it would take more
than their inadequate little pot handle to gain freedom.
On Wednesday of the following week, Devlin was plainly angry. The boys
knew he was thinking of Frost and they seemed to sense that the man's
unexpected departure was enraging Devlin more and more. He paced the
length of the house, muttering to himself and clenching his big hands
until his knuckles cracked. This continued throughout the afternoon.
Supper was a disappointment as all the meals had been. Devlin had not
again been so generous as to surprise them with any more of the
lunchroom delicacies such as he had brought in on that Sunday night.
Meal after meal was the same, a monotony of canned beans, bacon and
crackers.
Skippy had no appetite that night. The smell of bacon made him sick and
he felt that never again in his life would he be able to eat it. Nickie
moped dejectedly over his plate and when he did put anything to his
mouth he washed it down quickly with coffee as if he dared not taste it.
He looked at Skippy and shook his head. "If there's two more weeks like
this, kid, you'll need your strength--see. I'm sick, too, but I feel I
gotta eat no matter what, so I wash every mouthful down with this
rotten coffee. No matter how rotten coffee is, it's better'n tastin'
them blamed beans and bacon."
Skippy was trying out this sound advice when they heard the familiar
sound of a car chugging into the clearing. Nickie put down his coffee
cup with a bang and before either one of them could make any comment,
they heard Devlin rushing out of his room and down the stairway.
He came loping into the kitchen muttering, "Frost--it's Frost," and
rushed to one of the windows and looked out.
The boys were at the other window in a second and though the evening
shadows were lengthening, they could see the big, dark car rolling into
the barn. They watched as Frost came out with his short, hopping
stride, and they heard Devlin mumble deep in his throat.
The man made no attempt to go near the door but stood back against the
wall and waited. The boys went back to the table and made a pretense of
drinking their coffee. All the time, however, they too were waiting and
they listened intently as Frost's key clinked against the metal door.
Abruptly his leathern-looking face appeared in the doorway wreathed in
smiles. "Howdy!" he was saying breezily. "How----" He caught the insane
glint in Devlin's eyes and stood suddenly still. "Say, you don't look
glad to see me, boss!"
"Did you expect me to?" Devlin's voice boomed through the room.
Frost flushed up to the roots of his colorless hair. His small, shifty
eyes strayed toward the boys, then back to Devlin again. "Oh, if you
feel that way about it--I was thinkin' I was helpin' you out--givin'
you a hand...."
"Since when did I ask you to do my thinking for me, eh? Since when did
you give me a hand without being told to?" There was a ring in Devlin's
voice that made his listeners quiver when he added, "Come
upstairs--I've got plenty to say to you!"
The boys had never had any doubt that Devlin was a man of his word. Now
they were learning that he went far beyond that and gave no quarter to
anyone who had taken too much for granted at his expense. And from the
terrible wrath with which Devlin shook the house, Frost must have been
aware that he had committed the unforgivable sin in the eyes of his
nefarious employer.
Devlin seemed to have thrown aside all caution in his anger. His
solemn, terrible voice trailed down the stairs to where the boys were
standing, absorbing it all. Frost, at first, had made a feeble protest,
but was soon forced to stand back and listen.
"Boss," he had said, obsequiously, "there ain't no use gettin' sore
when I only meant to help out. Anyways, it seemed like wastin' time
stayin' here and...."
"_Shut up!_"
Devlin's long, determined stride shook the floor with each step he
took. "I didn't make up my mind what to do about those infernal Greek
kids. And I had that pest Timmy on my hands while you...."
"Didn't things blow right, Boss?" Frost's voice sounded conciliatory.
Devlin shouted, "Don't remind me of it! I tell you it looks like luck
is turning against me. First with Tucker out in Chi and now Timmy--I
tell you they're a dead loss! Then I come in here Saturday night almost
dead, I'm so tired, and what do I find! You gone on your own hook with
the two Greeks--after me telling you to stay here!"
"But, Boss--I did the job without no trouble and...."
"With that grinning face of yours I suppose you could look the part,
eh? Only I've got the face for this business--people don't get wise to
a face like mine--they think I'm drowning in grief. But _you_--I wasn't
going to let you go through with the Greeks; either one of 'em. I
decided that when I was fooled by that pest of a Timmy. It's risky
enough for me without you going ahead and doing things on your own. It
shows what brains you've got when you couldn't even wait the month at
least."
Frost became sullen and defiant at this challenge. "Oh, yeah?" he
parried. "Well, let me tell _you_ somethin', Boss. I was goin' to tell
you when I come in but you ain't give me a chance to get a word in--I
had brains to wait a month all right, but somethin' happened. We got a
room and I passed the word around we was looking for jobs like you work
it. I even give the landlady such a sob story she gives me the dope
herself that we ought to get our names on the dotted line so it was
soft."
"How much?" Devlin inquired almost eagerly.
"A grand each!" came the proud reply. "I made the agent talk me into
that--he said a thousand when I said five hundred."
"_Go on!_"
"I made the first payment Friday, and Saturday morning we went out
after dawn for a fishing trip--not a phoney one, Boss--I meant it real
'cause I wanted the low down on how I'd work it when the time was ripe.
I knew by then they couldn't swim, but like I say it was a try-out. It
was a hazy morning and the water was rough and we hadn't got far out
when that Shorty stands up in the boat to pass something to Biff. Next
thing I know we was in the water and the Greeks was shoutin' their
heads off and the tide was pushin' me down-stream like anything. I
couldn't swim against it and I was lucky to grab the end of the boat
that was floatin' upside down. Anyway, a guy fishin' in near shore
hears the racket and comes out. But the Greeks had got it and he was
lucky to help me."
"Did they find 'em?" Devlin's question was eager.
"Sure, and say, wasn't I plastered with sympathy at that boardin'
house! Things just blew my way. I won't have no trouble gettin' the
money. In three weeks I'm going back and collect. I told 'em out there
that I was comin' East to look for work 'cause the trouble didn't make
Pittsburgh look so good to me."
"That's better, Frost--I didn't think you had it in you. Those two
downstairs will be off my hands by that time--I'll go out with you."
"I wouldn't take no chances if I was you, Boss. I got today's papers in
the car. They're playin' up on the Delafield kids and they hinted there
was a racket behind it!"
"_What?_" Devlin's heavy foot pounded on the floor.
"Yeah," Frost answered as if he were almost enjoying the telling of it,
"one paper says the dicks are hep and some famous detective has
promised to run down the brains of it."
"_Carlton Conne!_" was all Devlin said.
"That's what I thought right away. You know that guy, Boss, so I'd lay
off a little. You might get jammed in Pittsburgh. I can collect them
two G's all right."
"I realize that, Frost," said Devlin coldly. "But trouble or no
trouble, I'm going to go to Pittsburgh with _you--understand_?"
The boys could not hear Frost's reply. He might not have voiced his
opinion at all. But Devlin's heavy steps overhead seemed to speak
volumes. Suddenly he hurled a question that made Skippy's heart stand
still.
"Frost," he was shouting, "where's that memorandum book of mine, eh?"
The boys sprang into the kitchen. They closed the door noiselessly
behind them and sat down, stunned and hopeless looking.
"Well, it's come, hah?"
Skippy nodded. "Gee whiz, I did forget. We just gotta deny it like we
planned."
"Yeah, but that ain't sayin' Devlin's gonna believe us, kid."
Skippy leaned forward on the table, his eyes blinking thoughtfully.
"Listen, Nickie, it don't make no difference what he believe, does it?
If we don't get help, we'll have to go with him an' take the chance
like we planned. So we should worry about it either way."
Skippy was right. Worrying about it wouldn't help. Devlin and Frost
came downstairs a few minutes later and accused them, but they managed
to stick to their guns. That they had taken the ladder seemed to have
caused no suspicion; neither had the boys' frequent trips to the attic
revealed how desperate had been their efforts to loosen the bars.
Devlin seemed not to have noticed it.
His mind was on the notebook and his face showed that he would not
dismiss the topic easily. "Where is it?" he was saying.
"Say, mister, what do we want with a darn old notebook anyway!" Skippy
retorted. "Search us--search our whole room but you won't find it,
'cause what would we want with it, huh?"
"That's what I'd like to know," Devlin said, narrowing his eyes. He
turned to Nickie, "I think you picked that lock--what for?"
"Aw, pipe down. Even if I did--what about it, hah? You can see that we
didn't take anything an' if we had, what could we do with it? I guess
you ain't worried that we got any money or anything like that, hah?"
"Hear that, Frost? I guess they're telling the truth and that puts it
up to you. You trying to double cross me?"
"Say, I ain't that dumb, Boss," Frost protested. "Maybe you mislaid it
or lost it."
"Maybe--and maybe not." Then Devlin turned on his heel and left the
room with Frost hopping after him protesting his innocence. But it was
evident to the boys that Devlin suspected Frost for the dour looking
leader returned soon muttering: "I'll get him yet."