Stoner's Boy

by Robert F. Schulkers

  The Skinny Guy shook Lew’s hand. “I’m gonna like you, Lew,” he says. “I saw all you fellas lots of times. I used to crawl up here and look in the window when you were having meetings, but my pop told me I must not show myself until we got the fellas what stole our houseboat.”

  “Oh,” says Dick, “did Stoner’s Boy steal your houseboat?”

  “No,” says Link, “but Stoner’s pop did, and they used to steal sheep and cows and things and take ’em away in that houseboat hitched to a launch, so we got on their track. My pop is a smart man, and he found out about this Stoner’s Boy’s pop. We told the sheriff where they put the sheep. It was me who found the sheep in the cave. They used to take some away every night in the houseboat, but tonight I told the sheriff where to hide, and they got him, and now he is in jail.”

  Us boys listened to Link like he was telling a story. Then I says, “But they didn’t catch Stoner’s Boy. Now he will be after us worse than ever for getting his pop in jail.”

  But Link waved his hand at me. “We should worry,” he says. “Say, one night I snuck up here and Lew was playing his organ and you fellas was singing a purty song; it was about God and springtime. Now do me a favor. Git up there and sing it for me again.”

  Which we did.

  CHAPTER 8

  Pursuit in the Cave

  MONDAY.—Us boys was glad to get the Skinny Guy back with us again. He sure did fool us about them stolen sheep. We all thought he was the thief, but he was just spying around on the man what did the stealing, and the poor skinny kid got such a kind heart, he couldn’t bear to see them sheep in the cave where the thief put ’em till he could take ’em away. Every day the Skinny Guy went down with a bag of feed for the sheep that was penned up in the cave.

  It wasn’t any wonder us fellas thought he was the thief. But we are glad he wasn’t, because we all like him a whole lot. Yesterday he took the whole bunch of us down to see his pop’s new houseboat. It is a beauty. Link says the captain of the Hudson Lee gave it to his pop when the old boat was stolen. Today when we come down to the river the Skinny Guy’s pop was fishing, like he always used to do. We went up to our stranded houseboat to hold our regular meeting. We heard the organ playing when we come up, and we could hear a fella singing inside.

  “Listen,” says Dick, “the Skinny Guy is taking his first singing lesson.”

  We all went in. There was Lew playing and the Skinny Guy standing by the organ.

  “Purty nice singing, Link,” says Dick. “We got to hold our meeting now; you can start practicing again after we are done.”

  So we held our regular meeting, and I gave out the list of the fellas who would be on watch this week to look out for Stoner’s Boy.

  After the meeting Lew come up to me and says, “Hawkins, I never heard a voice like Skinny’s got.”

  I says, “What does he sing, bass?”

  Lew shook his head. “No,” he says, “it’s lower than bass. I ain’t never heard a voice so rough for a young fella, sounds more like a saw going through a rough board.”

  I laughed. I says, “He must of been sleeping outdoors since he been away from us.”

  Lew says, “A fella with a voice like that would make a good whistle on a steamboat; dern if he ain’t got the awfullest sounding voice I ever heard.”

  TUESDAY.—This afternoon when I come down to the houseboat Jerry Moore come up to me. “Hawkins,” he says, “where’s our captain?”

  I says, “I don’t know; ain’t he here?”

  Jerry shook his head. “No,” he says, “we can’t have a meeting without a captain.”

  I says, “Come on in; I’ll take his place.”

  So we all went in and held our regular meeting, and I sat in Dick’s place. There wasn’t much to do. Only a few fellas paid their dues; then the meeting was pushed off till tomorrow.

  “THE AWFULLEST SOUNDING VOICE I EVER HEARD.”

  After it was over Jerry come over to me. “Hawkins,” he says, “I was on watch last night.”

  “Yeah,” I says, “I know. Did you see anything?”

  “Not of Stoner’s Boy,” says Jerry, “but I saw something that might interest you.”

  “What?” I asks.

  “I saw Dick,” says Jerry, “but he was going acrost the river in a Pelham flatboat.”

  Jerry looked at me to see if I would be supprised at what he told me. I didn’t say nothing for a while. I just looked at his face, but I knew he was telling the truth.

  “Well,” I says at last, “what we going to do about it?”

  Jerry stamped his foot. “Listen,” he says, “I ain’t going to have no fella captain who goes with us in the daytime and sneaks acrost to our enemies in the nighttime.”

  “No,” I says, “it don’t seem right, but you got Dick elected, Jerry, and if you want to get him fired you got to do it yourself. He is my friend; I can’t talk about him behind his back.”

  I walked away and left Jerry standing by himself.

  WEDNESDAY.—Stoner’s Boy is back. I saw him myself; that is, I got a peep at him before he got away. It was down on the riverbank, by the willows where Skinny’s houseboat is. We were all there today, watching Link and his pop pull in their trot lines, when all of a sudden a stone comes sailing through the air and crashes into one of the windows of the purty new houseboat. I turned quick and saw a flash of the gray figger of Stoner’s Boy shooting through the low-hanging willows. I gave a shout and started after him, and the fellas come right in back of me. We shot through the willows and come out the other side, but Stoner’s Boy was gone, just like as if the earth opened and swallowed him whole.

  “Well I’ll be doggone,” says a voice. I turned and saw the Skinny Guy standing behind me.

  “Where did he get to?” I asks Link. I laughed, but it wasn’t a real laugh; seemed like I laughed just to hide my feelings. I says, “Link, that Stoner fella, is the slickest thing I ever seen. Don’t ask me where he went to; you couldn’t answer your own question even if you was two feet in back of him.”

  Link looked at me a minit; then he said quickly, “The cave! By gosh, Hawkins, he’s gone into the cave.”

  Without another word the Skinny Guy was off running like a deer for the cave in the cliff.

  “Let him go,” says a voice. “Let him go; he won’t find him there.”

  It was Dick Ferris who spoke, and I says, “Dick, where you been?”

  “Hunting Stoner’s Boy,” answers Dick.

  I says, “You expected to find him on the Pelham side the other night, didn’t you?”

  Dick looked at me like he was hurt. “Why not?” he asks. “There ain’t nothing to keep him on this side of the river, is there?”

  I shook my head. I says, “Don’t get mad, Dick, I am just telling you for your own good; keep away from the Pelhams, or you will have to keep away from us boys.”

  Dick sat down on a stump. “I am supprised at you, Hawkins,” he says. “I thought you was the best friend I had in this bunch.”

  I walked over to him and put my hand on his shoulder. I says, “Dick, don’t act like I ain’t your friend; you know I am for you strong, but the rest of us fellas can’t stand the Pelhams. You get them mad by playing on both sides.”

  Dick looked worried. “Hawkins,” he says, “the Pelhams can help us a whole lot in catching Stoner’s Boy.”

  I says, “Tell it to Jerry; he is the one what got you elected captain. As for me, I will stick to you no matter what happens.”

  Then I walked away and left him sitting there on the stump.

  When I got down by Link’s houseboat, I looked back and seen him still sitting there. I says to myself: “Ain’t that a sad sight, the captain of our bunch sitting all by himself on a lonely tree stump, with not a friend in the world to talk to. But he brought it on himself; we told him lots of times to stay away from the Pelhams.”

  THURSDAY.—Jerry was looking for me when I got down to the headquarters today. “Hawkins,” he says, “where on earth do y
ou think Stoner’s Boy hides when he is here?”

  I says, “I don’t know; what did the Skinny Guy find out?”

  Jerry grunted. “Nothing,” he says. “Skinny searched through the whole cave, and he knows every corner of it, but there wasn’t a sign of Stoner’s Boy anywhere.”

  I shook my head. “It beats me, Jerry,” I says. “He stays somewhere.”

  We all went in to hold our regular meeting. Roy Dobel come down today for the first time since his pop’s sheep was stolen. “Listen fellas,” he says, “we got most of our sheep back, but Stoner’s Boy come to our house last night and nearly scared our folks to death, sneaking from place to place like a rat. Pop scared him out of our barn, and he ran into the dairy, where my sister was skimming milk, and he nearly frightened her to death. She is sick in bed from the scare she got.”

  Dick Ferris says, “Why didn’t you follow him and see where he hides?”

  Roy says, “Follow him my eye; he runs like a rabbit, and he gets away quicker than a rat.”

  Jerry says, “Did you get to see what he looks like?”

  “No,” says Roy. “He had a part of his face covered up with a gray handkachif.”

  Just then the door bust open. The Skinny Guy rushed in and shut the door quick behind him.

  “Sh-sh-sh!” He held up his finger to his lips. He listened by the door for a few minits. Then he come over to the table. “I think he followed me,” he whispered.

  I says, “Who followed you, Link?”

  “That smart fella,” he answers. “The one you call Stoner’s Boy.”

  I says, “Did you see him?”

  “No,” answers Link, “but he saw me, because a stone come sailing after me as I crossed the top of the hollow.”

  None of us fellas said a word.

  The Skinny Guy chuckled. “Hee-hee, I put one over on him.”

  Jerry Moore says, “How?”

  Link run over and peeped out the window; then he come up to where Dick Ferris sat. “Listen,” he says, “I got something what belongs to that smart fella.”

  “What is it?” asks our capt.

  Link motioned for us to come closer together.

  “Listen,” he whispers, “I got it, and I put it where he can’t find it.”

  Jerry Moore pounded his fist down on the table. “For goodness sake, tell us what you’re talking about Link,” he says.

  Link couldn’t help from laughing. He says, “I seen him come last night, and I watched him land down by the bend, and I could see him in the moonlight with his face all covered up. When he went off into the woods by the hollow, I slipped down and hunted around. I pushed aside those willows that hang into the water, and I found it there.”

  “Found what?” hollered Jerry Moore.

  “The gray launch,” whispers Link.

  None of us fellas said a word.

  “I ain’t going to let him git it back,” whispers Link. “I put it in Cave River; he’ll never find it there.”

  We still kept silent. Link tiptoed over to the door and opened it slowly. Then he peeped out for a minit. The next minit he dodged out and slammed it behind him. We all sat looking at the door where he skipped out. Then Jerry Moore says, “Dern if I don’t think that Skinny Guy will get us in more trouble with this Stoner fella.”

  Dick Ferris says, “He is spoiling the plans I made to capture Stoner’s Boy.”

  Jerry turned and looked at Dick. “Well,” he says, “maybe your Pelham friends can do more than us fellas, and maybe you better go back over there.”

  Jerry went out.

  Dick looked worried.

  Lew Hunter went up to him. “Don’t get sore about Jerry’s talk,” says Lew. “Us fellas will help you, Dick, no matter what plans you make to catch Stoner’s Boy.”

  FRIDAY.—We had our regular meeting right after school today, and most of the fellas went up to the clearing in the woods with Hal Rice, who had a new ball. Seems like just as soon as a little warm weather comes the baseball fever gits into the fellas; it’s the same way every year. But me and Bill Darby and Dick stayed down by the houseboat.

  Dick says, “Hawkins, I got to go over to Pelham a little while.”

  I sighed. “All right,” I says, “you are old enough to have better sense.”

  “Yes,” says Dick, “I know, but they are gonna help us catch Stoner’s Boy. I want to see if they found out anything.”

  Without any more talk Dick walked down to the river.

  As soon as he reached the water’s edge a Pelham flatboat started to come over for him.

  Bill Darby says to me, “We got a fine captain, ain’t we Hawkins?”

  I says, “On the level, Bill, he is the finest fella I want to meet, but dern if this going over to Pelham ain’t gonna cook his goose sooner or later.”

  I didn’t want to play ball, so I told Bill to go on up and join the fellas, and I went up to see old Doc Waters.

  “Hello, Hawkins,” says Doc, “you boys are purty happy since Link Lambert come back, ain’t you?”

  I nodded. “Yes,” I says, “we are glad to have the Skinny Guy with us, but he is gonna git us in trouble with Stoner’s Boy.”

  Doc laughed loud. “He can’t git you in any worse than you are,” says Doc.

  Then I told Doc about Link swiping the gray launch that Stoner’s Boy come down in.

  Doc looked serious. “Hawkins,” he says, “you better let the sheriff take charge of this Stoner’s Boy. I’m afraid he will hurt some of you fellas.”

  I laughed at Doc. I says, “Doc, the sheriff can’t catch him no more than us fellas could.”

  Doc shook his head. “I am afraid, Hawkins,” he says. “I hate to see you little fellas git in trouble; you know your maw kinda thinks I keep a watch on you.”

  I says, “Don’t worry, Doc; if we can’t catch Stoner, it’s a cinch he ain’t gonna catch us.”

  I went home, but Doc was worried.

  After supper I heard a tap-tap-tap on the window, and I went outside. Roy Dobel was there. “Hawkins,” he says, “it’s my turn to watch tonight, but my sister is sick, and my pop wants me to stay home; you better take my place.”

  “All right, Roy,” I says, “go on home. I’ll watch tonight.”

  So Roy handed over the gun to me, and I went down to the houseboat. Golly, it was lonesome. The big moon was shining down upon the old houseboat headquarters, and the river looked like a long run of shifting silver sand; dern if it didn’t make me think of the kind of poetry old Rufus Rogers used to write. I sat down on the steps of the houseboat and laid the gun acrost my knees. I must have been sitting there about five minits. Maybe it was ten minits; I don’t know. But all of a sudden—blam! I got slammed on the ear—oh boy! I never got such a crack in my life.

  I rolled off the steps like a bag of potatoes—but there was somebody on top of me, pulling my hair, and I could feel his hot breath on my cheek.

  “Where is it?” he whispered in a coarse voice. “Tell me what you did with it, or I’ll cut your ears off.”

  I tried to yell, but the son of a gun held my neck so tight he was choking me. I opened my eyes once and saw a gray muffler over a half-covered face, and then I shut my eyes quick again. I spread out my hands and felt for something—and my finger come in touch with the cold muzzle of my gun. I picked it up and raised it, but he knocked it out of my hand—the next minit I heard shouts—the gray figger jumped off me and shot away into the shadows.

  It was two or three minits before somebody came, and when I opened my eyes, there was Briggen and Ham Gardner lifting me up.

  “Good night,” says Ham, “it’s Hawkins.”

  “Yeah,” I says, “where did he go?”

  Briggen laughed. “He come near hurting you, Hawkins,” he says.

  I says, “Doggone, he did hurt me; look at my neck.”

  Briggen says, “Come and we will take you part of the way; he might be laying for you again on your way home.”

  So we three walked up to Main S
treet together. When we come to the parting place, I says, “Briggen, you fellas better go home. Stoner’s Boy is hunting for his gray launch what the Skinny Guy hid away.”

  Briggen laughed. “The dickens with what Stoner’s Boy is hunting for,” says Briggen. “We are hunting for Stoner’s Boy.”

  They turned and went back. I went home and snuck off to bed. Oh boy, I was sore all over.

  SATURDAY.—Dick Ferris was waiting for me at the houseboat this morning. “Hawkins,” he says, “the Pelhams told me that Stoner’s Boy caught you last night.”

  “Yeah,” I says, “the dirty little coward was hiding behind the houseboat.”

  Dick says, “We will have to tell the sheriff I guess.”

  “No,” I says, “we will settle with Stoner’s Boy ourselves.”

  We looked up just then to see the Skinny Guy and Jerry Moore coming. “Hawkins,” says Jerry, “the Skinny Guy wants us to take a ride in Stoner’s gray launch.”

  “Ride nothing,” I says. “Stoner’s Boy is awful mad about it; he beat me up last night because I wouldn’t tell him where it was. If it hadn’t a’been for the Pelhams coming along there just then—”

  “Well,” says Jerry, “we might as well go along and see the boat anyhow.”

  So we followed Link down the river, till we come to the willows that hid the entrance to Cave River. You wouldn’t never believe there was a cave with water running in it there. But I happened to look back and saw the half-covered face of Stoner’s Boy peeping from behind a tree. “Watch out fellas,” I whispered. “We are being watched.”

  Link turned and ran back. The gray figger of Stoner’s Boy darted on ahead. Link gave a shout, “Come on fellas.”

  We was all running the next minit. Up the cliffs we went. The gray figger really did look like a gray ghost now as it shot along the stone path and disappeared into the cave behind the big rock.

  “Right in,” says Link.

  I grabbed my flashlight. We followed.

  We could hear the footsteps of Stoner’s Boy’s heavy nail-studded shoes clattering on the stony floor of the cave. On he ran. He jumped through a hole where the sun was shining through. “He’s on the outside,” hollered Jerry.