BENJY’S SUSPICIOUS ACTIONS.
Really, it was strange how things crowded into that particular day. Hugh
was down doing some errand in the shopping district of the town when, by
the merest accident, he chanced to see Benjy Sherwood again.
The sight of Tom’s high-strung younger brother would be apt to interest
Hugh at any time nowadays, for it caused him to remember that he had as
yet been unable to carry his promise into effect, owing to the great
rush of matters accumulating on his shoulders.
He was particularly interested, however, when he saw what the boy was
doing, for plainly Benjy had some silver coins in his hand which he was
counting.
Hugh jumped to a conclusion that gave him a bad feeling in the region of
his heart. When a fellow is seen coming out of a bird store where all
sorts of pets are kept, and counting silver coins from one hand to the
other, the most natural conclusion is that he must have been selling
something there, and wants to make sure he has received the right
amount.
Hugh chanced to know that Benjy had been deeply interested in Belgian
hares, and received a present of a handsome pair of them on Christmas,
of which he had been exceedingly fond. Hugh wondered if it could be
possible that the boy, hard pressed for the means to pay some “debt of
honor,” as he considered it, had actually sacrificed his pets.
The thought of what a hold that gaming habit must have gained upon poor
Benjy filled the scout master with dismay. He took a few steps past the
store, and then felt compelled to yield to an irresistible impulse to
make sure; so, turning back, he walked into the place.
Hugh had often been there before, for he was himself interested in fancy
pigeons, and had a coop of “homers” at home from which he anticipated
raising some fine youngsters, which he could take many miles from home
and find awaiting him on his return. Indeed, he aspired some day to
possess famous fliers that might cover a thousand miles, and still find
their way home inside of a few days.
So Hugh strolled around looking at the coops containing all sorts of
pets both in fur and feather, from cunning pet dogs to fowls with
pedigrees, and parrots that could say dozens of strange phrases, or even
sing in a croaking fashion.
Finally Hugh approached the owner of the shop, who was busily engaged
with some work.
“Do you happen to have any Belgian hares, Mr. Huggins?” he asked, in a
casual way, as though he had looked around and failed to notice any in
the various cages or runs.
“Why, that reminds me I forgot to put that pair in the cage, I was so
busy after the boy left,” remarked the owner of the store, as he hurried
over to an old basket that had a cover to it, and from which he drew a
struggling object with long ears, which he tossed into an empty cage, to
be presently followed by a second.
Hugh’s last doubt was now laid. He had recognized the Belgian hares by
certain well-remembered marks, as once the property of Benjy Sherwood,
who must have sacrificed them for a particular object.
When Hugh remembered what he feared that object might be he found
himself shivering, he was so sorry for poor Tom, whose heart seemed so
sore these days.
More than ever was Hugh bothered to know just how he should go about
gaining the confidence of that high-strung lad. He had found a way to
gain the heart of such a scoffer and doubter as Mr. Griffin, whom
everybody deemed beyond hope. Surely there must be some method he could
apply to reach Benjy’s confidence, so that he might coax him to join the
scouts, and drop those suspicious companions.
“I’ll start right in to-morrow,” Hugh told himself, vigorously, as he
left the pet shop and headed for home. “Until this other business is
settled and the coast cleared, I mustn’t allow myself to be tempted to
take up any side issues. But if all goes well, and to-morrow sees things
turn our way, as I hope, then I promise myself that I’ll turn to Tom’s
trouble and help him out.”
All the rest of that afternoon he could not keep his thoughts away from
what he had learned about Benjy. It seemed as if the boy must be sinking
fast in the quicksands of the treacherous stream into which he had so
boldly waded. Unless prompt measures were taken for his rescue, Hugh
feared Benjy would ere long be so deeply involved that such a thing as
saving him must become three times as difficult.
“I’ll drop over and see Tom to-night,” he promised himself, as he sat
awaiting the summons to supper. “I don’t remember meeting him all day,
that is, to speak to. He’s beginning to believe by this time that I’ve
about forgotten my promise. Poor Tom, I’m sorry for him as can be, and
only hope we can convince Benjy he can get three times as much real fun
out of joining the scouts as keeping company with that tough crowd.”
Hugh was not as sanguine as his words might indicate. He knew what a
grip habit can take upon most boys, and how once they yield to the
allurements of vices it proves very difficult for them to break away, or
even acknowledge they are on the wrong path.
He had several half-formed plans, any one of which he might be able to
work upon, after he had consulted with Tom. The latter was one of the
sturdiest of the scouts, and Hugh particularly wanted him to be present
on that night watch. He partly feared Tom might not feel inclined to
come forth, and it was partly with the intention of gaining his consent
that Hugh meant to drop around after supper and see him.
It happened several things came up to delay him. First a report was
brought in by a member of the troop that was of sufficient importance to
merit immediate attention. So Hugh had to talk with Chief Wallis over
the wire. Then something else arose that took another half-hour of his
precious time.
When finally the decks were cleared it was almost half-past seven, and
the meeting had been called for eight.
“I must hustle if I mean to have a talk with Tom before we both go over
to the meeting room,” was what Hugh told himself, as he snatched up his
cap and made for the door.
He had hardly gained the street before he ran across two of the boys
heading in the direction of the church, where a room had been placed at
the disposal of the troop, together with the free use of electric light,
and heat in winter time.
At the next corner, however, Hugh stopped short.
“Sorry I can’t go all the way with you, Chester and Dale, but I’ve got
an errand over at Tom Sherwood’s house. I’ll be with you later on, and
will fetch Tom with me. My lips are sealed about the object of this
special meeting until then, so there’s no use trying to coax me to
speak. Those who are selected will be told everything, and the rest put
on their honor not to say a word about anything they suspect to-night.”
“Wow! you certainly have got us all guessing good and hard, Hugh,”
laughed Dale Evans, who belonged to the Otter Patrol. “I sure hope I’ll
be one of those lucky chosen ones, so I can know what all this mystery
means.”
“Oh! any old thing is liable to happen in such exciting times as these,”
said Chester Brownell, who was one of the best athletes in the troop,
and would assuredly be picked out by Hugh as one of the guards of the
night; though Chester, being in complete ignorance concerning matters,
could not know this.
Hugh hurried as best he could toward the Sherwood home, which was some
distance away from the corner where he parted company with the other
scouts. There was little chance that Tom might have already started for
the rendezvous, but somehow Hugh suspected the other was feeling too
anxious to take any pleasure in going to a called meeting, when he could
just as well stay at home and worry his mind with those questions that
would not down.
Tom himself came to the door in answer to his knock, and seemed to be a
little surprised to find who was there. Hugh thought he looked more
gloomy than ever, though possibly that had been a faint gleam of revived
hope that flittered athwart Tom’s long face at seeing the scout master.
“I thought you mightn’t come out to-night, Tom,” said Hugh, as he pushed
in without even waiting for an invitation, “and so I made up my mind to
step over and be sure of you. Fact is, Tom, there’s going to be
something planned of great importance to our cause. I’ve depended on you
to be one of six or eight of the brawniest fellows in the troop to stand
by and help us win a great victory.”
Tom looked somewhat impressed, though he shook his head sadly as he went
on to say in reply:
“Well, I had almost made up my mind, Hugh, that I didn’t care to go out
to-night. Fact is, to tell you the truth, I’m so miserable these days
that I don’t seem to care whether school keeps or not—lost my appetite,
and even think of resigning from the scouts.”
Hugh slapped him on the back in his cheery fashion.
“Don’t let me hear you make that threat again, Tom,” he said, in
pretended severity. “We need you too much every day to let you go.
Besides, your influence is going to count for a heap after the town is
cleared up. You don’t know how much it means to have a scout in good
standing in a family. But what ails you, Tom? Has anything new happened
to give you the blues again?”
“Yes,” came the reply, accompanied with a deep sigh from the heart.