Stoner's Boy

by Robert F. Schulkers

  Robert Hood got up and raised his spear.

  “No,” he says, “you ain’t going to take this away from me, I’ll tell you that, and a time will come when you will see me get the best of Stoner.”

  He turned and walked out of the door, holding his spear over his shoulder. Us boys sat there silent, watching him go. When he disappeared in the woods near the riverbank, Jerry Moore says, “There, he told you just what he thought of you, Dick.”

  Dick was staring out the door like he didn’t hear.

  Lew Hunter says, “What an odd chap he is, just like a picture that stepped out of one of our fairy books.”

  Dick hit the table with his wooden hammer. “Listen,” he says, “that Robby Hood is a fine fella. I like him for sticking up for the little kid who got a whipping from Stoner, and all of us fellas are going to help Robby Hood whenever we can.”

  Dick stood up and looked from one to the other of us. “You understand me, don’t you?” he asked.

  “Sure,” we all said.

  “All right, then,” says Dick, “the meeting is dismissed.”

  WEDNESDAY.—The Skinny Guy didn’t show up all week. I thought it was a little strange, because he has been coming up here almost every day since he and his pop moved their houseboat down to the island. But when I came down to the riverbank this morning I noticed a long boat landing on our shore, and I knew Link was around somewhere. He is the only fella that owns long boats. His pop makes them out of some kind of trees that grow on the island.

  After our meeting was over I told Dick that some of us ought to go and talk things over with Robert Hood.

  “You go, Hawkins,” says Dick. “I know he likes you better than he does the rest of us fellas.”

  So I struck out for our shack in the hollow. I noticed that a path had been cut in the high weeds from the riverbank to the door of the shack. When I reached the door and looked in I was supprised to see the Skinny Guy talking to Robby Hood.

  “Hi, Hawkins,” says Link. “I was just telling Robby he must keep after Stoner and get his fancy arrow box back.”

  I looked sore at Link. “Link,” I says, “you shouldn’t be talking a fella into fighting with the Gray Ghost.”

  There came a laugh from Robby Hood when I said that.

  “Hawkins,” says Robby, “I don’t need anybody to tell me, because I am going to get back what belongs to me, no matter what anybody says.”

  I held up my hands. “That settles it, then,” I said. “I guess I haven’t got any more to say.”

  Robby Hood came over to where I stood. “Listen,” he says, “that arrow box is worth lots of money. It’s made out of ivory and pearl. What would you do if it were yours and somebody else had stolen it from you?”

  I didn’t know how to answer Robby at first, but I said, “I’d do just what you’re going to do, Robby.”

  He slapped his hand on his knee. “That’s it,” he said. And he picked up his cap with a feather in it and put it on his head. Then he took up his long spear and started out of the shack.

  “So long,” he says, “there’s a fella waiting for me down the bank apiece. I hate to leave you boys, but I got to go.”

  We stood there and watched him go. Halfway down the path a boy stepped out of the high weeds to meet him. We were supprised when we saw his face. It was Harold, the twin.

  THURSDAY.—Us boys were all sitting on the houseboat steps this afternoon after we came out of our swimming hole. Harold was there, but he didn’t mention anything about being with Robby Hood yesterday. All of a sudden I saw a flash, and something came through the sunlight and banged up against the door of the houseboat. We all looked when we heard the sound. It was an arrow stuck in the door, and there was a piece of paper tied to it. Dick jumped up and pulled it down. He looked quick at the paper, then smiled.

  “Stoner is writing notes again,” he says. “Listen to this”:

  You boys better do what I tell you, or you will get in more trouble. Send that fella with a feather in his cap back where he came from right away. Don’t let him stay around this place any more, get rid of him quick and tell him he ain’t allowed to come down here no more.

  Harold gave a short little laugh. “Ha,” he exclaimed, “Stoner is afraid of Robby Hood.”

  Dick looked worried.

  “We can’t make him go back if he don’t want to,” says Jerry Moore.

  “No,” says Dick, “he is a fine fella; he is got a right to stay here as long as he doesn’t do any mischief.”

  Harold left us then and went into the woods. None of the fellas said any more about it. But they all snuck away from there because they knew that Stoner shot that arrow to our door, and so he must be close at hand. And none of the boys was anxious to see Stoner. But I knew that Stoner was afraid of Robby Hood for some reason. And it made me feel kind of happy. I was glad there was a fella who could make Stoner feel afraid.

  FRIDAY.—I was all alone in the houseboat this afternoon writing in my seckatary book, when in comes Briggen and a few Pelham fellas.

  “Hawkins,” he says, “it’s about time us fellas got together and put an end to Stoner’s Boy coming around here.”

  I looked up. “Sure,” I said, “it ought to of been done long ago if anybody knew how to do it.”

  Briggen came over to the table and leaned over my shoulder. “Dave Burns got hurt,” he says. “It ain’t right Hawkins.”

  I turned and looked at him over my shoulder. “Hurt?” I said. “How?”

  “Shot through the foot,” answered Briggen. “The poor kid never wears shoes or stockings. The arrow went clean through.”

  “Arrow?” I says. “Was he shot with an arrow?”

  Briggen nodded. “And nobody else but Stoner would do that.”

  I shook my head. “It beats me, Briggen,” I says. “Harold, the twin, got stuck in the arm with an arrow last week. The best thing I can tell you is to keep your eyes open.”

  “You bet we will keep our eyes open,” says Briggen, “and when we catch him—”

  Briggen started out of the houseboat, and the Pelhams followed. When he reached the step he turned. “What if we told the sheriff about this arrow shooting?” he asked.

  I threw up my hands and shook my head. “Do what you please, Briggen,” I said. “Us boys won’t stop you.”

  Briggen and his fellas walked down to their boats. But I knew they wouldn’t tell the sheriff. And I pitied Stoner’s Boy if these Pelhams ever got him in a corner.

  SATURDAY.—There wasn’t much doing at our meeting this morning, and as soon as it was over most of the fellas excused themselves and said they had some work to do at home, so they had to get back. Dick and Jerry Moore and me sat on the houseboat steps talking.

  About a half hour later I saw a Pelham boat coming over. Briggen jumped out as soon as the boat landed and came running up to us.

  “Look, Hawkins,” he says, pointing to the cliff, “there’s a fire burning up there.”

  We all turned our eyes to the cliff. A thin line of smoke curled up into the blue sky. Suddenly it stopped. Then it began to curl up again.

  “A signal,” said Briggen. “Stoner’s Boy is up to something.”

  “Come on,” said Dick. “I’m going up there.”

  We took our time, but kept our eyes on the place where the smoke went up. Nobody said a word, but just watched the ribbon of smoke as it curled into the sky.

  We reached the cliff path in about five minits and started up. We made a little noise as we climbed the rocks, some little stones rolling down as we went.

  Somebody called to us, “Hey, cut out that noise.”

  We all looked up to see skinny Link Lambert standing on the edge of the cliff under a ledge that shaded him from the sun.

  “What’s the fire, Link?” I asked.

  Link motioned for us to be quiet. “We got Stoner trapped on the top of the cliff,” he says. “He can’t get down.”

  “Why?” I asked. “He doesn’t have to come this
way. He can go through the cave.”

  Link grinned. “No he can’t,” answered Link. “Harold is waiting for him there.”

  “But the back way,” whispered Dick Ferris. “He could go down that way.”

  Link grinned and shook his head. “Not unless he wants to get stuck with Robby Hood’s spear,” he said.

  We all listened in supprise. Seemed like Harold and Robert Hood had finally caught Stoner for sure.

  “Harold is climbing after him low,” says Link. “We are waiting for him to chase Stoner one way or the other.”

  Just then we heard the sound of a motor turning the upper bend. We looked and saw it coming—the gray launch of Stoner—and there were about six or eight fellas in it. The launch was speeding fast and would soon be landing below us.

  “LOOK, HAWKINS,” HE SAYS.

  “Good night!” hollered the Skinny Guy. “It’s Stoner’s gang. He must of signaled to ’em.”

  “Yes, he did,” hollered Briggen from a rock below. “He sent up smoke signals for about an hour.”

  Link scrambled off of the ledge and came over the path. “Hurry, we’ve got to tell Harold and Robby Hood before this gang reaches us, or we will be the ones who will be trapped.”

  Link scrambled like a dog on hands and knees up the rocks, and we followed him as fast as we could go. It was a hard climb, and there was a lot of stickers and burrs near the top, but we finally got to it.

  Just as Link disappeared over the top of the cliff, I heard him give a shout, and the next minit I popped my head up and saw Harold come running from the opposite side, while the gray figger of Stoner’s Boy kicked a fire he had in front of him and crouched low, waiting for Harold to come. Harold never hesitated a second, but the Skinny Guy hollered at him. “Harold,” he cried, “let him go; here comes his pals. Turn and beat it.”

  Harold turned his eyes at the Skinny Guy as if he didn’t understand. That same minit Stoner jumped. He planted his feet square in Harold’s chest, and Harold went over like a tenpin. Stoner laughed loud and started down the back path, but just as he reached it I saw a spearhead shoved up at him, and Stoner fell back as if he saw a ghost. The next minit Robby Hood’s feather cap appeared over the top of the cliff, and it didn’t take long for all of Robby to appear. Stoner was up on his feet in a jiffy, and Robby threw down his spear and doubled his fists.

  “At last I’ve got you,” hollered Robby, and his fist flew out and caught Stoner under the chin. Stoner howled and moved his arms like a windmill as he went for Robby. But Robby just stood still and let him have another punch. Stoner went down.

  The Skinny Guy rushed over and grabbed Robby Hood’s arm. “Come on, Rob,” says Link. “Stoner’s gang is coming up the other path; they are too many for us.”

  Robby smiled at Link. “Thanks,” he says. “I thought he was signaling for help when we had him trapped.”

  We all rushed over to where Link and Robby stood. “We better go quick,” says Link. “You don’t know Stoner’s pals like I do.”

  “Yes,” I says, “don’t take any risks, Robby; we won’t be able to stand against Stoner and his whole bunch.”

  “All right,” says Rob. “Wait till I get my spear.” But just then a shower of stones came over at us, and there appeared a dozen heads coming up over the top of the cliff. We didn’t wait for another thing.

  Robby Hood left his spear where it lay, and we all scrambled down the back path as quick as we could. Link knew the places best, and he dodged into a little hollow place in the side of the cliff, and we all followed him. Robby was the last to get in, and he had no more than done so, when something came crashing down upon the path behind him. It was his spear; Robby Hood laughed. He ran out to the path and picked it up, and turned his head up and shouted, “Thanks, just what I wanted.”

  We waited till a shower of stones stopped falling. Then Link slipped out, and we all followed quietly. We went down the back path of the cliff and came out upon the main road.

  “I’m all in,” panted Harold. “That was a nasty kick he gave me.”

  We all felt sorry for Harold.

  “There’s no use waiting for him anymore today,” says the Skinny Guy. “We can’t touch Stoner while his gang is here. We better all get out of sight as quick as we can.”

  Which we did.

  CHAPTER 25

  Trapped in a Tree

  MONDAY.—Us boys knew Robert Hood was aching to get another chanst at Stoner’s Boy. He felt sore because Stoner’s gang showed up last Saturday just when he and Harold, the twin, had Stoner trapped on top of the cliff. But Stoner will get out of any kind of trap. I always told the fellas that.

  “Nobody is slick enough for him,” I said to Dick Ferris this morning. “Stoner’s Boy will get away from you, even if you have him chained to a rock.”

  Harold, the twin, laughed. “He isn’t too slick for me,” says Harold. “Whenever I get him I’ll hold on to him until I want to let him go.”

  Robby Hood came down the river this morning in his red-and-yellow striped canoe. I saw him after dinner, as I passed the old shack in the hollow. He was lying down on the bunk, resting on his elbow and reading a book.

  I didn’t say anything to him as I passed, and when I reached the houseboat I said to Dick Ferris, “Robby Hood is here again.”

  Harold heard me say that and came over to me. “Did you see him?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I says, “he is up in our shack in the hollow.”

  “Thanks,” says Harold, and he walked off toward the hollow.

  Dick stood watching Harold go. “Well,” he says to me, “I guess we can get ourself ready for some more excitement. Harold is off to get that fancy Robby Hood, and I’ll bet they start on the track of Stoner right away.”

  “Aw well,” I says, “what’s the difference, Dick? Us fellas are getting used to it. Why, if we didn’t have some kind of excitement down here every week it wouldn’t be long before the old houseboat would be empty—and what’s more, it would stay empty, too.”

  “I believe you, Hawkins,” says Dick.

  TUESDAY.—When I come down to the houseboat this morning, Harold was sitting on the houseboat steps talking to the Skinny Guy.

  “Hello,” I says, “what brings you up from the island so early, Link?”

  The Skinny Guy grinned at me. “Work to do,” he answers, “we are waiting for Robby Hood. I’m going to be scout for him and Harold.”

  “Oh,” I says, “I see you fellas ain’t satisfied.”

  Harold shook his head. “No, we ain’t,” he says. “That gray ghost got away last Saturday because his pals came to help him, but this time it won’t make any difference if he’s got a whole army with him.”

  I nodded my head. “I guess you’re right,” I says. “How you going to fight all them fellas together?”

  “You’re going to help us,” says Harold, “and so are all the other fellas in our crowd.”

  I didn’t give him any answer on this, for the fellas came down about this time to hold the meeting. After I called the roll, Harold asked our captain if he could talk to the fellas a minit.

  “Sure,” says Dick, “what’s on your mind?”

  “This,” says Harold, “you fellas all belong to one crowd, don’t you?”

  “Sure,” says Dick, “every fella in this houseboat has got to stick to the others.”

  “That’s what I thought,” says Harold, “and I belong to the houseboat crowd, don’t I?”

  “Of course you do,” answered Dick.

  Harold nodded his head. “I thought so too,” he says, “and for that reason you fellas got to help me, if I need you.”

  Dick didn’t make any answer right quick, but he coughed and looked nervous. Then he said, “Us boys are true blue, Harold.”

  Harold smiled. “At least you try to be,” he says, “but now you’ve got a chanst to prove it—Stoner and his gang are here; they are making their headquarters in his hiding place. I’ve got a bone to pick with this gray
ghost, and so has another fella who doesn’t belong to this crowd.”

  “You mean Robby Hood?” asked Dick.

  Harold nodded again. “He’s the fella,” says Harold. “We wouldn’t be afraid to tackle the whole Stoner gang, Robby and me, but we know it would be foolish.”

  “Well,” says Dick, “what do you want us boys to do?”

  “Stick to me,” says Harold. “That’s all I ask. We can beat a bunch of cowards like Stoner’s crew, if we will all stick together, and don’t get cold feet.”

  Dick thought for a minit. Then he turned to me. “Hawkins,” he says, “what do you think about it?”

  I didn’t reply right away; but the more I thought about it the more I believed we ought to help Harold, no matter how much trouble we got from it. “I am for Harold,” I says. “He can have me.”

  Harold smiled at me. “Well,” says Dick, “we will put it this way; if any fella in this houseboat is not willing to go into this thing with Harold, let him get up and go out of here this very minit.”

  All of us turned to watch who would go out the door. But every fella sat tight in his place. “All right,” says Dick, “Harold, you can have the whole bunch to help you; get your plans ready, and tell every fella what his work will be.”

  “Fine,” says Harold, “I will let you hear from me as soon as Link and I talk to Robby Hood. He is coming down the river this evening.”

  WEDNESDAY.—Harold was waiting for me by himself this morning when I opened the houseboat. “Look, Hawkins,” he says, “the gray ghost is getting very bold. He tacked this on the front gate at our house last night; Oliver found it this morning, and it’s good he did, because if my daddy had seen it first, we might of had to stay indoors all day.”

  Harold handed me a note—of course I knew it was from Stoner. He has got a habit of writing notes. I think it is because he is so afraid to show his face, he knows the only way he can tell us something is to write it down and send it to us. I read this:

  You never will get a chanst to trap me on top of my cliff again; it was a bright idea, and you come purty near ketching me, but my gang is just as smart as you and that smart ellick fancy dresser from Watertown. I will take pity on you and warn you not to go near the cliff again. First place, it won’t be no use, cause I won’t be there, and second place, there will be danger there, so look out.