Barry Locke, half-back
“I didn’t think to ask him. That’s funny, isn’t it? Six dollars is a
good deal of money, too. Now, I wonder what he did want it for! Gee! I
wish I’d asked him!”
“You certainly should have,” Barry agreed soberly. “I’m not sure
Peaches is capable of handling such a vast sum.”
“You aren’t?” Toby looked startled. “Gee! what do you suppose――” Then
he saw the visitor’s lurking smile and grunted. “Aw, get out! I guess
he’s seen more money than that! Anyway――” and Toby chuckled――“I fooled
him. I had another dollar I didn’t tell him about!”
Barry didn’t get the explanation from Betty until after supper. Sitting
on the porch in spite of the chill of the frosty night, they talked
Peaches’ venture over. Betty wasn’t very hopeful. After a silence of
nearly two weeks, she said, Davy had written a few days before, from a
town in Massachusetts, that he had failed to find work and was leaving
the next day. She didn’t believe that Peaches would be able to trace
him.
“He will have to be back by to-morrow noon, Barry, or get into trouble,
because Mr. Puffer would let him off only until then. That won’t give
him much time for making inquiries and trying to find Davy, will it?”
“No, it doesn’t seem so. When will he get there? To the place your
brother wrote from, I mean.”
“I don’t know. There wasn’t time to talk much. He went right off to see
Mr. Puffer and stopped only a few minutes on the way back. It can’t be
far, though. I think he’s there by now, surely. If it just might happen
that Davy had changed his mind and hadn’t left there after all!”
“I don’t suppose we can count on that,” said Barry. “Just the same,
it’s a cinch that Peaches will find him if it’s possible to. He doesn’t
make much splash, but he gets there, Betty!”
“I don’t suppose we should have let him go,” said Betty. “Only it
all happened so suddenly that――that he was off before I could think!
There’s so little chance of his finding him, you see; and then it will
cost a good deal, too. And if he should find him and bring him back I’d
be scared to death. The police would be certain to see him or learn he
was here, and then things would be worse than ever.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that, Betty. Peaches will find a way to get
him here without his being seen, I guess. He could wait until night,
couldn’t he? Anyway, if it’s going to help Mr. Benjy it’s worth the
risk, I’d say.”
Mrs. Lyle called Betty, and, left alone, Barry pondered how to
spend the next hour or so. He missed Peaches――no mistake! Toby’s
companionship offered little enticement. Nor did Mill’s, for these days
Mill put the entire burden of entertainment on the radio. In the end he
made up his mind to go to see Clyde!
His courage almost but not quite left him before he reached the partly
open door of Number 42 Dawson. From within came a medley of voices and
his knock produced several loud invitations to enter. When he did so,
Clyde looked surprised and flustered. Jake Greenwalk and Goof Ellingham
stared in a bored manner and Hal Stearns’s expression was of mingled
incredulity and hostility. Clyde, though, didn’t let the silence grow
awkward.
“Hello!” he exclaimed in friendly tones. “Come on in, youngster. You
know these ducks, don’t you?”
Jake and Goof greeted him affably enough, possibly taking their cue
from the host. If Hal uttered any greeting Barry didn’t hear it.
Barry found a seat and replied to Clyde’s inquiries as to his recent
activities, the news from home, and so on, and then the interrupted
conversation went on again.
The new-comer listened in silence for a while. Major Loring, it
appeared, was conducting the Broadmoor football team straight down the
path to destruction. The principal exponents of this theme were Clyde
and Hal, but Goof tacitly agreed with them. The assistant coaches were
a couple of “false alarms” and were balling things up in such a fashion
that a guy didn’t know what to do any more. They were still going
strong when Jake Greenwalk cut in with:
“What do you think about it, Locke? Haven’t heard your hammer yet.”
“Oh, Locke’s subsidized,” laughed Goof, not offensively, however. “You
mustn’t expect a frank opinion from him.”
“Gosh, no!” sneered Hal. “He’s teacher’s little pet.”
“Don’t get nasty,” said Jake.
“Why,” answered Barry, quietly, “I’m new here yet and probably haven’t
any right to an opinion. But if you really want it, it’s this,
Greenwalk: I think the Major and Graham and Mears are doing a pretty
good job.”
“You surprise me!” said Hal. “Think of that!”
“Well, you haven’t much to complain of,” remarked Clyde, dryly. “You’d
be a chump to kick, I’ll say.”
Goof and Jake went off after a minute or two and Barry said:
“You chaps will want to do some studying, so I’ll wander.”
“Don’t say ‘want to,’” Clyde objected, accompanying him to the door.
Hal had already picked up a book and was ostentatiously unregardful of
the guest’s departure. “Well, drop in again,” said Clyde, nervously
perfunctory at the threshold. Barry turned and looked at him
straightly.
“Does that mean that you want me to, Clyde?” he asked.
“Why, sure!” Clyde accompanied the reply with a short laugh and his
eyes fell before Barry’s gaze. Nevertheless he stepped after the other
into the hall, and once past the door he added in a lowered voice:
“Say, don’t think too much about the other day, Barry. You know how it
is when a fellow gets peeved.” He tried to speak carelessly, but Barry
was certain that he detected a ring of sincerity underneath.
“That’s all right, Clyde,” he answered eagerly. “Let’s forget!”
The other nodded and turned hurriedly back.
“So long,” he called.
It wasn’t much of an apology, Barry reflected on his way home, but it
was a good deal from Clyde. He wondered if it was too late to try again
to get out of football. To-night he felt courageous enough to face two
or three Major Lorings! But sober thought told him that the die was
cast and that nothing he could do now would aid Clyde’s ambitions.
When he awoke in the morning it was not to Betty’s cheerful announcement
of “Hot water, Barry!” but to the ungentle proddings of Peaches. Barry
viewed the intruder sleepily and vaguely inquired, “What time’s it?”
“Ten minutes to seven, sluggard,” replied Peaches, securing a less
precarious seat on the edge of the bed. “Get up and hear the birdies
sing!” Barry’s mind cleared itself of the mists of slumber and he
opened his eyes wide.
“Where――when――” he exclaimed.
“Five minutes ago,” answered Peaches, grinning.
Barry sat up suddenly and sank his voice.
“Did you find him?” he asked anxiously.
For reply Peaches slowly lowered his left eyelid.
CHAPTER XVIII
UNDER COVER
Peaches told his story while Barry dressed.
“I’d like to lay stress on my superior intelligence,” he said, “but
truth compels me to acknowledge, Barry, that luck had a lot to do with
it. I got to Randall Falls about seven-fifteen and went to the hotel
Davy had written from. His name was on the register and the clerk
said he had left three days ago――no, this is Thursday; four days ago
now――but didn’t know where he’d gone. But he got his memory working and
remembered that Davy had left about half-past seven in the morning, and
with that to go on I beat it back to the station and looked up trains.
“Well, there was one going east at seven-forty-six, and I concluded
that was the one Davy had aimed at, especially as there weren’t any
others for nearly an hour on either side of seven-thirty. The first
real town on the line was Springfield and I guessed Davy had made for
there. Of course he might not be there then, but I had to take a chance
on that. And, of course, he might have gone straight on to Worcester
or some other place beyond that.
“Anyhow, I tried Springfield. I had to wait nearly two hours for a
train and it was nearly ten o’clock when I got there. I got a taxi at
the station and told the driver what I was up to. Davy wasn’t stopping
at the big hotels, I knew, and so we began on the cheaper ones.
Well――and here’s where luck took a hand――we found him at the first one
we tried, a place only a couple of blocks from the station. He was
asleep, but I got him up and told him what was wanted and he was all
for starting for home then and there. But that was no good, for I’d
looked up the trains. We talked for more than an hour and then he went
to sleep again and I took a nap on a chair, with my feet on the bed. I
got going at a little after four, got a night train as far as Randall
Falls, and finished by car.”
“Davy came with you?”
“No, we thought we’d better not chance getting here in broad daylight,
even as early as six-thirty. Besides, he’d got a job a couple of
days before and didn’t want to leave without explaining things. He’s
coming down this evening as far as Hale’s Bridge. He will get there
at eight-thirty. I’ll be waiting in a car and bring him over. He
figures he can stay around to-morrow by keeping quiet and go back in
the evening. Of course it’s taking a chance, but no one knows about him
except just us here, and I guess we can get away with it.”
“Of course. Have you seen Betty?”
“Yes, for a minute. She thinks they’d better not say anything to Mr.
Benjy yet. At least not until the doctor comes. He might get sort of
excited and restless. She says he slept better last night than he has
for a week. Gee! I hope the poor old chap comes around all right! He’s
mighty decent. Since he’s been sick I’ve wished a lot of times I’d been
nicer about listening to his stuff.”
“I’m mighty glad you found Davy,” said the other. “Betty thinks he will
be better for Mr. Benjy than the medicine.”
“Hope so. Davy’s changed a lot. I guess he’s been up against some hard
times, judging from his looks. But he’s got a lot more gumption than he
used to have. Fact is, he was just a bit dumb when he was here. Oh, not
stupid, of course, but――well, sort of slow. Having to fend for himself
has sure put an edge on him!” Peaches ended with a cavernous yawn.
There was another strenuous afternoon on the gridiron that day, the
last before Saturday’s contest with the Springfield junior team, and
Barry didn’t get back to the Lyles’ until dark. Peaches was awaiting
him there.
“I’ve been thinking,” he announced, following Barry into the latter’s
room.
“Any ill effects?” asked Barry, sinking into a chair.
“What’s the matter with your cheek? I refer to the side of your face,
not to your――er――impertinence.”
“Some one placed his shoes there. I think it was that Rusty Waterman.
Anyhow, he was grinning.”
“Better put something on it,” advised Peaches. “Say, I’ve been――I mean
I’ve got an idea. (Now cut out the low humor.) I’ve been and arranged
for a sea-going Ford for this evening and it’s to pick us up at the
corner of State and Jewell Streets at quarter past eight.”
“Us?” asked Barry.
“Yes――that’s the idea I referred to. It might look funny if I set out
alone, in case any one did see me, but if we both went no one would
think much about it. Get it?”
“I suppose so. I’m too blamed tired to follow the――the intricacies of
your――your reasoning, Peaches.”
“That’s all right. You leave the reasoning to me, old scout, and just
obey orders. First thing, put something on that messy-looking cheek if
you don’t want it to be sore.”
“It’s sore already, you coot! Waterman, or whoever it was, shakes a
mean shoe!” Nevertheless Barry applied witch-hazel to the abrasion.
“They told Mr. Benjy that Davy was coming,” said Peaches. “The doctor
said it wouldn’t do any harm. He’s as excited as the dickens, Betty
says, but he’s all chirped up, too, so I guess that’s all right. Gee! I
hope nothing happens to keep Davy from getting here!”