CHAPTER XXXI
AFTER THE CHAIR
The four chums begged off from football practice directly after thefirst lecture the next morning, when they had a clear period until noon.
"Say, what's up?" demanded Kindlings, to whom they made the request.
"We want to go to Haddonfield and get our chair," explained Phil.
"And you want me to knock out a morning's practice, when you know howmuch the team needs it," went on the captain, reproachfully.
"We don't need it--so much," declared Sid.
"No, you fellows think you're perfect, I guess," and the captain lookedinjured, and spoke sarcastically.
"It isn't that," said Tom, eagerly, "but if we _don't_ go, our chair mayvanish again. We'll put in hard practice when we come back."
"Oh, well, then, go ahead," conceded Kindlings, after a consultationwith the coach. "I'll make you pay for it, though. If we lose the Boxergame, it will be up to you fellows."
"We won't lose!" declared Tom, confidently.
They caught the next trolley car for town, and, piloted by Frank, headedfor the second-hand shop on the little side street.
"Now we'd better map out a plan of campaign," suggested Phil, as theyneared the place. "If we go into the place, and demand the chair, thefellow may insist that he has a good claim on it, and raise a row. Wecan't take it away by force, and----"
"We sure _can_!" broke in Tom, indignantly. "That chair is our property,and we have a right to take it wherever we find it."
"Suppose the dealer bought it in good faith from some one who stole itfrom our room?" asked Sid.
"That makes no difference," went on Tom, who thought that perhaps someday he would study law. "If the dealer hasn't a good title to it, hecan't claim it. We can take it away from him."
"How?" asked Sid. "Get a policeman and have him ride it away for us inthe patrol wagon?"
"Yes, we could do that," agreed Frank, "but it would be sure to raise arow, and draw a crowd, and then folks would blame it on the pranks ofsome of the Randall boys. We can't afford to have that happen. Prexywouldn't like it."
"But we've got to get our chair," insisted Sid.
"Isn't there some sort of a legal way of doing it?" asked Phil. "Can'twe go to court and get a search warrant."
"What we need, in case we locate the chair, is a writ of replevin,"declared Tom, as if he knew all the ins and outs of the legal game.
"Is replevin any relation, say a second cousin, to _lis pendis_?" askedFrank, who seemed to have a special fondness for that term.
"Nothing like it," asserted Tom. "To replevin your goods, it means youget a court order to take them wherever you can find them. Now my planis this: We'll go into the store, look around until we locate our chair,and then boldly demand it. If the fellow refuses to give it up we'll goget a policeman, and swear out a warrant against him for receivingstolen goods. That's what it amounts to, and we three fellows arewitnesses enough, and can prove that the chair is ours."
"Good!" cried Phil. "We're with you, Tom."
No better plan having been proposed, Tom's was agreed to, and theyproceeded on toward the shop, having come to a halt to discuss thesituation.
Eagerly they peered forward as they swung around the corner. Each of thethree wanted to be first to sight their beloved chair. As for Frank, hefelt that he had already seen it.
"That's the place," suddenly remarked the Californian. "That shop withthe spinning wheel sign over the door. It's a queer old place, kept by adown-east Yankee, to judge by his talk."
"The worst kind of a fellow with whom to talk business such as we have,"said Sid. "He'll stand on his rights to the last inch or penny. Butthere's no help for it."
They were almost in front of the place now, and they strove to appearindifferent--as though they were merely strolling by; for, as Tom said,first they wanted to catch a glimpse of their chair in the window, andthen they would have the evidence they needed.
Four pairs of eyes were turned simultaneously toward the dingy casement,in which stood an odd assortment of chairs, tables, small sofas andother antique furniture. Four gasps of breath told more plainly than anywords the shock of surprise that followed the glances.
"It isn't there!" cried Tom.
"It's gone!" added Sid.
Truly enough there was no big, old-fashioned, easy chair in the window.
"Maybe it's in the other," suggested Frank. "I told you I wasn't surewhether it was the left or right window."
Phil darted across the doorway.
"It isn't over here, either!" he cried, as a rapid survey of thecontents of that window disclosed the fact that it contained only somebrass warming pans, a broken spinning wheel, some andirons and firetongs.
"Perhaps it's inside," came from Frank. "This fellow changes his windowgoods every other day to attract trade. Let's go in."
There was nothing else to do after they had assured themselves, by eagerglances through the windows, that their chair could not be seen fromwithout.
"Well, gentlemen, what can I do for you to-day?" asked a little wizenedman, with a much wrinkled face, as he came forward, briskly rubbing hishands. His face was smooth shaven, and seemed to be made of some kind ofupholstery leather. His blue eyes were deep set, under shaggy brows."Like something to furnish your college rooms with?" he went on, makinga shrewd and correct guess as to their character. "I've got some sportythings, all right."
"Real sporty, eh?" asked Tom. "Something that will make our den lookhomelike?"
"Sure. Why, I can sell you a pair of andirons dirt cheap. Real antiquesthey be, too. Come over in the _Mayflower_. Then I've got a lot ofRevolutionary muskets and swords you can hang up on the walls, and makeit look like a regular den. Could you use a spinning wheel? I've got adandy that just came in. I sold one like it to some girls from FairviewInstitute the other day, and they paid me a good price. I could let youhave this one a little cheaper, if you bought all your stuff from me.You're from Boxer Hall, ain't ye?"
"No, from Randall!" exclaimed Phil, indignantly.
"I--I meant to say Randall all the while!" exclaimed the man, in someconfusion. "I don't know what's gittin' into me lately. Guess I need anew pair of eyes. That's twice I made a mistake like that. I might haveknowed you was from Randall, of course. You fellers are goin' to beatthem all holler in the championship game, ain't ye?"
"We hope so," answered Phil, "but we came to look for an old easy chair.We need one for our room, and we heard you had one that would suit us."
"Easy chairs for college rooms? Why, I've got 'em by the bushel!"exclaimed the man, eager for business. "Look here!" and he led the wayto the rear of his shop. "I've got 'em in Colonial style, early English,Flemish, Louis the Fourteenth, and almost any kind you like. What'll youhave?"
The chums eagerly looked around the shop. Their chair was not in sight.Somehow their hearts sank, and they hardly dared ask the next question.
"Let's see a good, old-fashioned, easy chair. We don't care whether it'searly Flemish or late Irish," said Phil.
"Something like the one you had in your window the other day," put inTom. "A friend of ours saw that one, and told us about it. We'd like tolook at that."
The dealer, who had been marching hopefully toward the rear of his shop,suddenly paused. He turned around and looked at the boys.
"Were you meanin' a big chair, with reddish-brown velour on it, and----"
"Claw legs!" interrupted Sid, eagerly.
"And lions' heads on the arms," put in Phil.
"That's it!" cried Tom. "Where is it? Show us that one!"
The dealer glanced at them sharply.
"Well, now I'm monstrous sorry," he began apologetically, "but I justtraded that chair--traded it last night."
"Traded it?" gasped Frank.
"Last night?" echoed Sid.
"Yes," went on the dealer. "I had no call for it. You see, thatold-fashioned upholstered stuff is out of date. What folks want now isreal antiques like Louis the Fourteenth, or
Mission. Mission is greatstuff! Now I've got a Mission chair, in real Spanish leather, that----"
"How'd you come to trade our chair--I mean the one we _hoped_ to callours," and Phil quickly corrected himself, for it had been decided theywould make no claim until they had assured themselves that it was reallytheir chair.
"Well, the fact is a feller who's in the same line of business as I amwanted it more than I did," explained the Yankee dealer. "He offered metwo spinning wheels for it, and I took him up. I've got quite a call forspinning wheels. Them girls over at Fairview College likes 'em for theirrooms."
"That's so," murmured Phil, regretfully. "Ruth told me she got one theother day for their den."
"And you traded off our--I mean that easy chair?" went on Sid.
"Yes, I couldn't get rid of it, so I let it go."
"How'd you come to get hold of it?" asked Tom.
"Who'd you trade it to?" inquired Frank, and his question was the morepractical. Yet the dealer answered Tom first.
"I bought it from a Hebrew peddler," he replied. "He come along one daywith a load of stuff, and offered me the chair with some other things.Said he'd been buying 'em up at different colleges around here, andtrading stuff for 'em. So I took the chair, and it was one of the fewtimes I've been stuck. Still, I didn't make out so bad, as I got thespinning wheels for it."
"So you can't show it to us," spoke Sid.
"No, that chair's gone. But I've got lots of others. There's one realantique, in horsehair, and----"
"No, thanks!" interrupted Phil. "We'd slide off that every time we triedto go to sleep, it's so slippery."
"Then there's that Mission----" began the dealer, eagerly.
"No, we want one like that one which was in the window," spoke Tom.
"By the way, with whom did you say you traded it?" asked Frank,casually, as if it did not matter.
"I don't know his name," spoke the dealer. "I've done some business withhim before, but not much."
"Is he in Haddonfield?" Phil wanted to know.
"No, he's out in the country somewhere. Lives on a little farm, Ibelieve, and does the furniture business as a side line. He alsoupholsters chairs, I understand. It was some name like Cohen, orRosasky, or Isaacs--I really forget. But now, if you're lookin' forchairs----"
"No, thank you," interrupted Tom. "I don't think we care to look at anyto-day. If you could put us on the track of the one we saw, we might getthat, and then we could buy others of you." He added this as a bait tothe trader.
"Well, I'm very sorry, but I can't, for the life of me, think of thename of the man who took that old chair," declared the dealer. "But ifit was a spinning wheel now, or something in Mission, I could----"
"Come on, fellows," interrupted Tom, sadly. "I--I guess we don't wantanything to-day."
"Now I've got a real gem in Louis the Fourteenth," went on the maneagerly.
"No," said Phil, decidedly.
"Or early Flemish."
"Nothing doing," declared Sid.
"Or a Colonial sideboard and a warming pan--a warming pan is dead swellin the room of a college lad."
"No, we don't----" began Tom.
"Let's jolly him along," whispered Frank Simpson. "We want to get on thetrail of that Hebrew. Now if we buy--say, a warming pan, of this man, hemay give us more information."
"Right!" whispered Tom, eagerly. "Why didn't I think of it myself? Ofcourse! We do need a warming pan," he went on, winking at Phil and Sid,who at first thought their chum was out of his mind. "Now if we could geta nice copper one, pretty good sized, it might do in place of thechair."
"For you to sit on," murmured Sid, keeping a straight face.
"I've got just what you want!" declared the dealer, happy now at theprospect of business. "Come back this way to the warming pan department.I've got one that came over in the vessel that followed the_Mayflower_."
"It must have been the _Jilliflower_," murmured Sid, with a silentchuckle.
The Winning Touchdown: A Story of College Football Page 31