Stoner's Boy

by Robert F. Schulkers

  Both Briggen and Dave laughed. “He’s gone,” they said. “Stoner must have helped him to escape.”

  “Ah,” I says, “I am glad of that; we won’t have to bother about him any further.”

  “We might catch him again, though,” spoke up Briggen.

  “No you won’t,” I says. “We don’t need him, and we don’t have to be afraid of him; you fellas will let him alone, or we will know the reason why.”

  Briggen looked at me like this didn’t suit him, but he didn’t answer, and we went back to our side of the river.

  MONDAY.—Today after school Lew Hunter asked Dick if he would make the fellas practice some songs. “It’ll be getting cold weather soon,” says Lew, “and Hallowe’en is coming on, and Thanksgiving and then the holidays, and the boys ought to be able to sing something worthwhile by then.”

  Dick smiled. “Seems like you believe in getting ready early,” says Dick. “Seems a long way off to Hallowe’en, and I don’t think the boys would stay in on that night long enough to sing songs.”

  “Well,” says Lew, “I can’t keep a choir if the fellas won’t practice.”

  “All right,” says Dick. “I’ll order them to practice for just one hour then. They have to have some time to play, gee whiz.”

  So we practiced. The fellas kinda liked it. We stayed more than an hour.

  TUESDAY.—Briggen and his Pelham gang came over to our houseboat while we were holding our meeting after school. “Say,” says Briggen, “what has become of Long Tom?”

  “Why?” asked Dick. “You fellas know that the sheriff took him.”

  “We heard about it,” says Briggen, “but is he gone for good?”

  “So far as we know, yes he is,” answers Dick.

  “All right then,” says Briggen, “us fellas are out after Stoner. We felt a’scared of that Long Tom though, and we wanted to make sure he was gone. We can handle Stoner by himself.”

  I had to laugh. “Sounds good, Briggen,” I says, “but you fellas been after the Gray Ghost as long as we have, and you never laid your hands on him.”

  Briggen made a funny face. “It was our luck,” he says. “Stoner always had luck on his side, but we aim to get him now. Tell your sheriff we will hand him over soon.”

  “Aw get out,” hollers Jerry Moore. “Your bragging makes a fella sick.”

  Briggen looked hard at Jerry. “Well I hope you won’t die from it,” he says.

  Jerry made a dash for Briggen, but the Pelham leader was out the door in a flash, and the Pelham fellas were right upon his heels.

  Dick called Jerry back. “Let them alone,” he says. “If they keep fooling around Stoner’s Boy much longer, they will get what’s coming to ’em, and it will be their own fault.”

  WEDNESDAY.—I had been wondering all week why Robby Hood had not shown up. And I was glad today when he came into our meeting. The boys all got up to greet him; he is a likeable chap, and us fellers have grown to like him. “Keep your seats,” he says. “Don’t let me interrupt the meeting.”

  “You ain’t,” I says. “Robby, when you stay away from this old houseboat for a few days, we sort o’ miss you.”

  Robby smiled. “Thanks,” he says, “they say the same thing at home, but I believe they are trying to make me feel good.”

  We finished the meeting then, and as soon as it was over Robby came over to me, and we sat by ourselves on the organ bench.

  “Hawkins,” says Robby, “I haven’t got as much time to come down here now that I am going to school, but I would like to get back that ivory arrow quiver that Stoner stole from me.”

  “Ah,” I says, “do you still hope to find that?”

  “Why not?” he asked. “It’s somewhere in the cave on the cliff; I am sure of that. I searched through the whole diggings in the island tunnel, but he has nothing worth having down there.”

  “Well,” I says, “I thought us fellas made up our minds not to go in the cliff cave again; it’s too dangerous.”

  Robby tapped his foot on the floor and was silent for a minit. Then he says, “Yes, I think it is dangerous. No telling what Stoner has in there for us, but I would risk anything to get back that valuable quiver; my uncle sent it from Cuba, and I think more of it than I do anything.”

  “Well,” I said, getting up and stretching my arms, “if you are that set on it, I guess we will have to risk the cliff cave once more; although I don’t mind telling you that I am not anxious to enter that dark hole again.”

  Robby didn’t answer. I walked over and put my seckatary book away and closed the windows.

  “Hawkins,” said Robby, “I ain’t got any right to ask you to come with me. I will go into that cave myself, and you don’t have to feel as if you ought to go.”

  I looked at Robby and smiled. As he stood there in the dim light in the houseboat, he looked the handsomest boy I ever saw. “You’re a good scout, Robby,” I says. “You got a kind heart. But you don’t know me very well; whenever a pal of mine needs my help, I am right there when the time comes. If you go in that dern cave again, I’m going with you, see? That’s all there is to it.”

  Robby took my hand. “You’re a regular pal, Hawkins,” he says.

  “I wish everybody would think so,” I says.

  THURSDAY.—Today after our meeting, Robby Hood called at the houseboat. “Whenever you are ready,” he says, “I’m going to the cliff cave today.”

  “I’m ready now,” I answered.

  We didn’t say much as we walked down the bank and started for the cliff path. Seemed like we both had a feeling like we should not go back into the hiding place of Stoner’s Boy. It has been a long time indeed since we were there. We didn’t know if there was any new danger waiting for us or not.

  As we neared the path Robby stopped and pointed. “Look,” he says.

  Far up on the cliff we saw a bunch of fellers strung out in single file. “Who are they?” I asked.

  “The Pelhams,” says Robby, “and if I ain’t mistaken, the boy in front is Three-Finger Fred.”

  “Ah,” I says, “maybe we better not try to get your arrow quiver today, Robby.”

  “Why not?” asked Robby. “We can at least see what the Pelhams are up to.”

  We waited till the last Pelham fella disappeared around the nose of the cliff. Then we went forward. When we had climbed up to the entrance of Stoner’s hiding place, nobody was in sight. “Let’s go,” says Robby, pulling his flashlight out of his pocket.

  I took out my own too, and we entered the cave. “Be careful with that light,” says Robby. “Don’t let them know we are following.”

  And so we went on and on, down that dark passage till we come to the deep pit. “How now?” asked Robby. “They didn’t go acrost; see here, the rope is still on this side.”

  The thick rope by which Stoner used to swing himself across the gap still hung to a peg driven in our side of the passage. We stood there studying it out. All at once Robby says, “By jiminy, I bet they are making Three-Finger Fred talk.”

  He pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket. “Look here, Hawkins,” he says, “hold up your light on this paper. It’s one of the sheets little Rags Sanders left for me.”

  I flashed the light on the paper. “Turn to right at the pit, ten yards, stoop and crawl under. That’s it, Hawkins, come on; follow me.”

  I followed close at Robby’s heels as he stepped off what we figgered was thirty feet. I saw Robby stoop. “Turn out that light,” he whispered.

  I turned it out. I couldn’t see a thing. I stood there five minits. I could hear voices talking low. I got tired of waiting. “Robby,” I whispered, “where are you?”

  But he didn’t answer. So I turned my light and flashed it down. I saw a hole in a wall, just big enough for a fella to squeeze through. I got on my knees and wriggled through. I was in a room. Robby was sitting right beside the hole. It was too dark for anybody to see us, but we could see down the long room, and there were the Pelham fellas, sitting arou
nd a campfire, talking to Three-Finger Fred, who was standing.

  “You said you would let me go if I showed you the way,” he says. “Now you won’t live up to your bargain.”

  I saw Briggen get up and go over to Three-Finger Fred. “Listen,” he says, “you will not go free till you show us where Stoner kept all the valuable things he stole.”

  Three-Finger Fred looked at Briggen, and I could see a smile of disgust on Three-Finger Fred’s face. “If that had been our bargain,” he says, “I would have done it. But all I was to do was to take you here. Now let me go.”

  Briggen smiled at him. “Maybe you will feel different about it tomorrow,” he says. “Come on fellas; take our prisoner back to his jail.”

  Robby and I got away over into a dark corner, so they could pass us. Dave Burns, who carried a lantern, squeezed through the hole first, and then Briggen went. We saw the other Pelhams force Three-Finger Fred through. We heard their voices as they went down the passage.

  When their voices died away, Robby says to me, “What do you think about that?”

  “Briggen is a sneak,” I says. “He told us that Three-Finger Fred had escaped.”

  “Come on,” says Robby, “never mind about my arrow quiver now; let’s see where they are going to put their prisoner.”

  We crawled out, and after listening for a minit, we went down the passage. When we reached the open air, Robby held me back. “Wait,” he says, “they are just a little ways ahead of us down the path.”

  We waited a few minits; then we started down. As I looked at the group of Pelhams, I whistled. “Where is Three-Finger Fred?” I asked.

  Robby laughed. “Briggen wouldn’t tell you that if you offered him a house and lot,” he says. “They got him where no one will find him.”

  We watched them till they took to their boats and rowed over to Pelham.

  “Meet me tomorrow, Hawkins,” says Robby. “This looks like it’s going to be interesting.”

  FRIDAY.—I met Robby as soon as school let out. “You’re too late, Hawkins,” he says. “I just came from the cave.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “The same thing we saw yesterday,” says Robby. “They took Three-Finger Fred to the same place and asked him to tell, but he still refused. He said it wasn’t in the bargain he made.”

  “Well,” I says, “maybe we better go up now and get your fancy arrow box.”

  Robby shook his head. “I can’t go in there twice a day,” he says. “It’s a gloomy place, and it makes me feel blue.”

  “Well then,” I says, “tomorrow I have nothing to do, and there is no school. Suppose we try then.”

  “You’re on,” says Robby.

  “Well,” I said, “but do you think we ought to try to get Three-Finger Fred away from the Pelhams?”

  Robby waved his hand. “He’s a tough customer,” he says. “He can take care of himself. I bet he gets away from them before tomorrow. If he doesn’t, why you and I might help him out.”

  SATURDAY.—“It’s strange that Stoner doesn’t come to the cave anymore,” I said to Robby this morning as we started up the cliff path.

  “Oh, no,” says Robby, “he knows his stuff is in a safe place; he can get it whenever he wants it.”

  “But he knows Sanders gave you the papers with the secret written,” I says.

  Robby laughed. “He knows I wouldn’t want anything he’s got except my arrow box,” he says.

  We went in quietly, for we didn’t know whether or not there would be anybody in the cave. But we reached the hole in the wall safely, and crawled in.

  “Now Hawkins,” says Robby, “we can take our time and explore this place. Throw your light up against the roof; ain’t those wonderful crystals?”

  We flashed our lights around the whole place. The walls and roof glittered like a candy palace. We could hear the drip, drip, drip of water in some places, and it did make a fella feel creepy. Robby took a bunch of papers from his pocket, and I held my lamp up. “Here,” he says. “Sanders gave me the directions to the chees hole. ‘Walk to the end of the long room. Then up.’ So we will. Come on Hawkins, old fella.”

  We went as far as the room allowed. “Now then,” says Robby, “hoist me up.”

  I stooped to let him put his foot on my shoulder, and I raised him up. “Ah,” he said, “very neat and tidy. You ought to see the things he has up here in a hole, Hawkins. By golly, and here is my arrow box, right on top.”

  At that minit we heard a voice outside. “Fred. Oh Fred?” it hollered.

  We heard a muffled call in answer.

  “Stoner,” whispered Robby, and he leaped down off my shoulders, and I saw he had his arrow box, and was tucking it into his jacket.

  “Quick, this way, Hawkins,” he says.

  He led me close to the wall, and about ten feet away from where we had stood he slipped into a hollow place in the wall and pulled me in with him. “Quiet,” he says.

  We could hear somebody crawling in. We couldn’t see a thing. But suddenly one of them struck a match and lit a lantern. The light flashed into the face of Stoner’s Boy, his chin and mouth covered with the old gray handkachif. Behind him stood Three-Finger Fred.

  “Well,” says Stoner, “it’s lucky I came. You would have been in there yet.”

  “Yes,” says Three-Finger Fred. “They had me in tight.”

  “I figgered they must have you in there,” says Stoner. “I spied all around their Pelham places, and when I couldn’t get a sight of you, I figgered they had you in my own cave jail.”

  “They took me there because they were afraid the boys across the river would set me free,” says Fred.

  “Oh yes, that fella Hawkins and his bunch, they would have turned you loose,” says Stoner, “because they are awful afraid of me; they don’t want any more trouble than they got.”

  “Well,” says Three-Finger Fred, “I just about made up my mind to quit you, Stoner. This business of being locked up ain’t anything nice to have wished on you.”

  “Brace up,” says Stoner, “you will be more careful next time. Look at me; did you ever see anybody take me prisoner?”

  Fred didn’t answer.

  Then Stoner said again, “I guess the stuff is all safe in the chees hole.”

  “Sure,” said Three-Finger Fred, “I wouldn’t tell them where it was.”

  “Well then,” says Stoner, “let’s go.”

  By the light of the lantern we saw them crawl through the hole, their shadows on the wall looking like giants in the lantern light.

  When all sounds had died away, Robby stepped out of our hiding place. “We might as well go too,” he says to me.

  But I didn’t feel like talking. We had a close shave with Stoner. If he had found us there, and caught Robby with the fancy arrow box, we might have been the next prisoners in the cell of the cave jail. Briggen had been a prisoner there once, and we freed him, and we know what a place it is.

  “WELL,” SAID STONER, “IT’S LUCKY I CAME. YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN IN THERE YET”

  I was glad when we came out into the sunlight once more.

  “Well, Hawkins,” says Robby, holding up his arrow quiver, “I got what belongs to me, and I am done. I don’t think you will ever see me down here again!”

  I felt sorry about that; I told Robby so.

  “Aw shucks,” I says, “you can’t go away without seeing the fellas. Let’s go up and tell them about it.”

  Which we did.

  CHAPTER 33

  Stoner’s Boy Disappears

  Stoner is gone. There’s no doubt of it now. I saw him go; with these very eyes I saw him go, and I will never forget the sight as long as I live. Even though he was a boy to be afraid of, and he gave us much trouble, still I did not want to see him go as he did. Poor Stoner! No matter what he did, I’ve got to feel sorry for him.

  I have not been able to keep my diary this week, so I am writing this now on Saturday night in my daddy’s library. Because our houseboat
is gone, too. The judge gave orders to have it removed, after the end of Stoner. Doc Waters tried to get the houseboat saved for us, but it was no use. The judge said if he allowed us boys to keep on meeting as we did some of us would get hurt one of these days. And the end of Stoner was the cause of it all. I’ll tell you how it came about.

  We had not seen Stoner since Robby Hood and I went into his cave and Robby got his ivory arrow quiver back. Stoner had been keeping himself at Watertown lately, where he and his gang have been working their crooked game of taking what did not belong to them. Doc Waters told me he had found out something about Stoner’s bunch.

  Well, anyway, it was on Wednesday while we were holding our meeting in the houseboat. Robby Hood brought down with him a large electric lamp; it threw a light almost as bright as a steamboat searchlight. We were all standing around the table looking at the big lamp.

  “Now,” said Robby, “what I am going to do is to set this lamp up in Stoner’s hiding place in the cave. We would have been able to get him before if it weren’t for the fact that it was so dark in the cave. But look at this ray of light.”

  He switched on the light. It made the houseboat as light as day. “Ah,” said the Skinny Guy, “if we only had that light with us last time, Hawkins.”

  I shook my head. “No,” I said, “it won’t do. We can’t be lugging that heavy lamp with us every time we go up the cliff. And if we set it up in the cave and leave it there, Stoner will have it before a day passes.”

  “Well,” said Robby Hood, “I am going to set it up there anyway. I think I know a way to hide it so that Stoner won’t stumble onto it.”

  I did not say any more about it. Dick and the Skinny Guy went with Robby Hood to fix the light up in the cave. I went down to my favorite fishing place and threw in my line.

  I had caught three mudcats, and I was ready to go home, when I heard the sound of a paddle on the river. I stepped behind the tree that grows on the bank of my fishing hole and peeped out.

  A flatboat was coming down the river, and in it were Stoner’s Boy and Three-Finger Fred. Stoner sat in the front and Three-Finger Fred in the stern, and between them was a curious-shaped box made of bamboo. They landed close to my fishing place. I saw too late that I was foolish to let my fishing tackle on the bank.