“Ever seen Androfski?” asked Shadow Loomis, quietly.
Harold’s face brightened.
“No,” he said. “Not yet, but at that, Shadow, I’d like to meet him. I bet you I could turn the tables on him anytime he tries anything.”
Shadow shook his head.
“Don’t try it,” he said. “I did. He beat me forty ways. He’s fooled me every time since. Once I had a chance to get even with him, and the Seckatary, there—”
“Yeah, blame it on me,” I broke in. “You ought to be thankin’ me, by rights. I kept you out o’ trouble. If it weren’t for me, you’d’a got many a good lickin’ from the Silent.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Shadow. “I ain’t afraid of him. I told you that many times. I am going to get a chance someday to even up that old score. You won’t be around when it happens, Hawkins. As long as you are around, you will always prevent it.”
“That’s me,” I said. “Shadow, I ain’t got any more yellow in me than you have. I ain’t any more afraid of Androfski or Stoner or Bleaker or any of ’em than you are, but I got good common sense, thank the Lord for that. I got sense enough to know that it’s best to prevent a scrap when it’s possible to do it. What’s the use fightin’ all the time?”
Shadow laughed. He put his hand on my shoulder.
“Good old Hawkins,” he said. “You’re all right, Seck, but you don’t understand. See? It’s a question of honor, as you might call it. I’ve just got to square things up, that’s all.”
I walked away from them and went into my writing room. I sat down to answer the letter Will Standish had written me, and by the time I was finished, the boys had left the clubhouse, and so I went home. And believe me, I was worried. I had plenty to think about. Whenever the twins came home, things began to happen. That Oliver twin is a nice, easy-going fellow, as fine a boy as you would want to meet, but that Harold—oh, boy! You know, he’s one of those kind that isn’t satisfied until he starts something, but I will say this much about Harold: whenever he did start something, he usually finished it. Nevertheless, it always gave us boys a great deal more to worry about as long as he was around. Yet we liked him. It’s funny, too, how you will grow to like a fellow like that.
Now the days passed quickly and happily for the boys. It was grand old vacation time, and the pleasures that were ours on the river, on the shore, on the cliffs, in the hollow, kept the boys pretty well interested. Meetings every morning at nine, then baseball practice, and sometimes a game with the Happy Days Club from up the river. After that swimming and then lunch. About two o’clock, a trip in the launch, sometimes as far up as Watertown, sometimes way down the river past the island. Once we took the twins to the old steamboat wreck, where the old Smokey City lay rotting in the summer sun on the riverbank, where the ice crushed her last winter. Nothing happened on that trip, although I must say I expected one of the enemy to pop out from somewhere upon us. The wreck interested the twins very much. We stayed until evening and started back. Nothing happened on the trip. I remember now that Lew Hunter had his old accordion along and played “Swanee River” when we started for home.
Harold had taken quite a fancy to Shadow Loomis. I saw them sitting together often down on the riverbank or in the launch or on the clubhouse porch or in the shade of a tree, talking things over quietly. I imagined I knew what their conversation was. Most about Androfski the Silent or Stoner’s Boy, but I never butted in. I let them go their own way and never went to them unless they called me, and they didn’t call me often, and when they did, they never mentioned Androfski or Stoner, but I knew they were cooking up something between them. You can’t fool the old Seckatary. No. I’ve been around these boys too long. I know ’em.
Oliver, the other twin, took a fancy to the Rolling Stone, John Loomis. I used to see Perry Stokes with them so often. One day I asked Perry:
“What makes Oliver and Rolling Stone so thick? I see them together so much.”
“Yes sir,” spoke up Perry. “They got a liking for each other, sir. It’s because they are such nice boys, Hawkins. They are easy going, you might say. Peaceful boys, sir.”
“Ah, yes,” I said, and then I was silent. Perry, too, was a peaceful boy. Most likely that was why I saw him so often with Oliver and the Rolling Stone. They were the peaceful boys, and I guess Shadow and Harold were the fighting kind—yeah, I guess I understood. The one lot of ’em was trying to start trouble, and the other lot was trying to prevent it. I wondered then why both of the parties had tried to keep away from me. Why hadn’t one side come to me? If Shadow and Harold had thought I would try to stop their plans, why hadn’t Oliver and John, brothers of the first two, come to me and let me in on their plans?
Three days later it happened. After I had finished writing the minutes of the meeting, I got a notion that I wanted to walk down to the river. As I came out of the clubhouse door I saw Shadow Loomis and Harold bending over the big flat stone that marks the beginning of the clubhouse footpath from the wider river path. They didn’t see me. I could tell by the way they stooped over that Harold was writing a note and Shadow was telling him what to write. That much I could tell, and as they started to get up, I quietly stepped back into the clubhouse and watched them through the window. They went across the front of the clubhouse yard and toward the cliffs.
“By golly,” I said to myself. “I wonder if they’ve found out something.”
“I don’t think so, sir,” said a voice, and I knew it was Perry. Yeah, I knew it was him. I never could turn anymore without Perry being right there to tell me he was going to watch so I wouldn’t get hurt, but it made me sore today. I turned on him fiercely.
“Perry,” I said. “I’m going out, sir, by myself, sir, and I can do my own ‘sirring,’ if you please, sir. I don’t need you tagging along behind me every time I move, Perry.”
“I beg yer pardon, sir,” he said, and he had a hurt look on his face. “I meant well, sir. I knew you’d be after following ’em, Hawkins, and they are up to mischief, those two, so I says to myself, ‘I’ll hurry along and stick by Hawkins,’ sir, as one can never tell—”
“Alright, alright,” I said. “Come along then, if you must. Don’t stand there explaining all day. We’ll lose track of ’em if we don’t get a move on. You don’t need to take that rifle.”
“How do you know, sir?”
I didn’t say any more. That Perry boy had me so dern mad right at that minute that I wouldn’t have cared if he had dragged a couple of cannons along. I didn’t turn around to look, but I could hear his soft footfall behind me on the path, and I knew by heart that he carried the rifle. He never went without it. Perry was a caretaker and he was going to take all the care he could, whether he shot the gun off or not. That part didn’t matter. No. Carrying the gun was the big idea, and he carried it.
But we had tarried so long that the boys had got away from us. When we started across the hollow, they were not in sight. I felt sore at Perry for that. The boys were all playing ball in the hollow, and they yelled at me to come, but I paid no attention. I ran down the river path till we reached the cliff. As I turned around the base of the cliff to the woods on the other side of the hollow, I saw Harold and Shadow going on ahead at a pretty fast gait. Perry was close behind me. We had no trouble now following the two boys. I didn’t know yet what they were up to. We walked about ten minutes, and then I saw them enter a thickly wooded spot. Perry and I shoved up close and peeped through the green. We saw them standing before an old sycamore—ah! at once it came back to me. Now I knew this old spot. Yeah, we had been to it several times before. That old sycamore that stood in the center of the grove of trees was the secret post office—
I saw Shadow point to the tree as if telling Harold about it. I saw them both walk over. Shadow pulled open the little square piece of bark that was the door and showed Harold the hole in the tree. Harold reached up his hand, and there was a piece of paper in it. He hesitated a moment and looked at Shadow. Shadow nodded his hea
d. Harold dropped the paper in the hole in the tree. Shadow closed the door. Together they turned and walked back.
I pulled Perry down beside me on the green, and we lay with our stomachs flat against the ground as the two boys walked almost over us. My hands were stretched out, and Shadow’s foot came within a fraction of an inch of stepping on my little finger, but they passed and went on. They didn’t know we were within a mile of that place. They didn’t know we had seen them, and that’s just the way I wanted it, believe me.
We waited until their footsteps had died out. We waited longer, to be sure that they had not stopped to look around, and then I got up and Perry followed me.
“Perry,” I said. “I’ve got to know what is written on the paper they put into that secret post office.”
“Yes sir,” said Perry. “You should, sir.”
I could have slapped him for saying “sir” to me then, but I overlooked it.
“This isn’t any sneak work, you understand, Perry,” I said. “But we’ve got to know what’s going on.”
“You certainly should, sir,” said Perry. “It’s for the Seckatary to prevent any trouble, sir.”
“Stand right here, Perry,” I said. “Keep that gun handy. I don’t think you’ll need to use it, but keep it where anybody can see you got it in case you need it. Usually when anybody sees a gun they respect it right off. I’m going up and see what’s on that note.”
“Yes, sir, with the gun, sir, you go up and take a look, Hawkins. I’ll watch here, sir.”
I walked over to the sycamore. It was easy to pull open the little door. I shoved in my hand. It was deeper than I thought. It took the length of my whole arm, up to the armpit, to reach the bottom, but I felt a piece of paper and pulled it out. I read it:
To Androfski-Dear Sir:
It will be a pleasure to meet you any time you say. If you are as full of courage as you used to be, you will not disappoint me. I have been waiting for the time when I might prove to you that I was no coward the night you did me up. We have a quarrel to settle, you and me, Androfski. Best we settle it soon. If you take no dares, you will meet me somewhere on the river bank near the clubhouse on Friday night. Don’t fear, there will be nobody to bother us. Nobody knows of this but only one of my very best friends, whom I can trust. I hope that you will have with you only one of your best friends. We will fight it out fair and square, bare fist. If that suits you. I hope you are not a coward this time.
Yours truly,
Shadow Loomis.
“Well, I’ll be derned,” I said to myself as I finished reading it. “Well, dern if I ain’t a simp. I might ’a’ known those two kids was fixin’ up something like this.
“Perry, sir, read this note and tell me if you think it’s the right thing—”
But Perry was paying no attention to me. He had his gun up and his ear cocked, and he was looking in the opposite direction. Suddenly, he ran to me in a state of great excitement:
“Come,” he said. “Be off, Hawkins. Be off at once, sir.”
“What’s a’matter with you, Perry?” I asked quickly.
“Jude, sir, Jude the Fifth—the Jude boy, Hawkins, and he is looking for you, sir—”
Before I could say a word, Perry had jerked me by the arm, and when Perry wants to he can pull pretty hard. Yeah. He jerked me aside, and I nearly stumbled. I tried to catch myself, and I let go of the note and it fell from my hand. I tried to turn around to pick it up, but Perry that dern Perry, he pulled me on and on until we got into the bushes safe, hiding where we could see—
It was Jude the Fifth who stepped into the path from out of the bushes beyond. Yeah, Jude the Fifth, with a brand-new rifle in the hollow of his arm. He walked slowly to the sycamore tree and seemed surprised to find the door of the secret post office standing wide open as I had left it, but he smiled, as if satisfied, when he reached in his hand and took out another note and read it. I hadn’t felt for any more notes when I reached in. No. I took the first one on top. Dern it, if I had tried again I might have found out what was on Jude’s note.
Jude read his note and closed the little door in the bark of the tree. Then, as he started away, he looked down toward his feet and saw the note that I had dropped—the note that Shadow Loomis had sent to Androfski—
Jude picked it up. He read it. Then, his face a puzzle of expression, he started running swiftly toward the edge of the woods.
“Thank heavens he’s gone, sir,” breathed Perry Stokes in my ear. “You don’t think it would do any good to follow him, Hawkins?”
“No,” I said. “We can’t do any good now. You ought to have let me alone, Perry when I was reading that note. I wouldn’t have dropped it if you hadn’t pulled me so sudden.”
“But it was for your best, sir,” said Perry; his eyes were big and his face was in earnest. “It was Jude, sir—Jude the Fifth, and you know he has a grudge against you, Hawkins.”
I patted Perry on the shoulder.
“I know,” I said softly. “I know, but I know a lot more, Perry, old timer. We’ve got a hot time ahead of us next Friday night, too.”
Which we did.
CHAPTER 23
The Strange Mix-Up
RIGHT after the meeting the next morning the boys went out to begin their usual play. The Rolling Stone was the only one of our Watertown members who had come to the meeting, and Link and Harold were going to take the boat up to get Shadow Loomis and Robby Hood.
I wrote the minutes in my book. I heard Perry Stokes out in the meeting room, cleaning up and setting things straight, as he always did after a meeting. I called him in.
“Perry,” I said. “I want you to go down to the hollow and get the Rolling Stone and Oliver—don’t let any of the other boys know, though. I only want John Loomis and Oliver. You understand, Perry.”
“I understand, sir. John and Oliver. Shadow’s brother and Harold’s twin. Only those two, sir.”
“Right. And none of the others to know.”
Perry was gone like a shot, and I knew I could trust him to carry out the orders as given. Before I had closed my book he had come back, with John Loomis and Oliver.
“Did you send for us, Hawkins?” asked Oliver.
“Yeah,” I said. “I got something to talk over with you fellas. Sit down a minute.” They pulled up their chairs around my desk, and I hammered the stopper on my ink bottle.
“We’re going to have some tall thinking to do fellas,” I said. “Your brothers have gone and invited Androfski the Silent to come and fight—”
John Loomis stood up quickly. “If Shadow’s gone and done that,” he broke in.
“It’s just like Harold,” said Oliver, in a low voice, as if he were trying to make an excuse for his twin brother. “He likes excitement, Harold does. He’s always been that way. You know him, Hawkins.”
“I know him,” I said. “I kind o’ think it was Harold who suggested it to Shadow. And both of ’em together wrote a note to Androfski the Silent. They dared him to come.”
The Rolling Stone shook his head.
“Ain’t that too bad!” he exclaimed. “That Androfski fella won’t take a dare.”
“Are you sure their message got to Androfski?” asked Oliver.
“Sure as I’m sitin’ here,” I said. “They took it down to the secret post office in the old sycamore tree. That is where Androfski comes to get his messages from Jude and other boys he might be chumming with.”
“Let us go down right away, then,” said Oliver, “if you know where the tree is, and take the note out before Androfski can get it.”
“It’s no use,” I said. “I tried that. Perry and I followed them. We saw them drop the note in the secret post office. And as soon as they were gone, I went over and took out the note. That’s how I know what they wrote to Androfski the Silent.”
“Why didn’t you tear it up, then, Hawkins?” asked Oliver. “It would have been best.”
“Oliver,” I said. “You know me well enough. You know t
hat’s what I would have done, but for something else that happened. Just as I was reading it, Perry saw somebody coming in the bushes. It was Jude the Fifth. Perry came to warn me, and he grabbed my sleeve, and I dropped the note. Before I had time to pick it up, Jude was close, and we had to beat it for the bushes. Jude picked up the note. You can bet your last nickel he took it to Androfski.”
For a few minutes we sat silent. Oliver and John tried to keep their eyes turned away from each other. I guess each one was somewhat ashamed to think that his brother was mixed up in this business. They were thinking of old Judge Granbery’s last orders to keep out of trouble and never start anything. Inviting a fellow to come down an’ fight was the worst kind of a way to do.
Perry Stokes broke the silence.
“It was indeed brave of them to do it, sir. We all know what a dangerous sort the Silent Boy is. They surely have courage to dare him down, sir.”
“Courage!” shouted Oliver. And I could see Oliver was angry—mad as a wet hen. “That’s fool’s courage. And anyway, they had no right to do it without asking us. They are bringing trouble upon us, too, when they go hunting it for themselves. And they are likely to get their heads broken for it, too.”
John Loomis, the Rolling Stone, without turning his head, shifted a bit and gazed out of the window.
“Breakin’ heads,” he said, slowly, “ain’t to be allowed a’tall. When it comes to breakin’ heads, I ask anybody that’s doin’ it to let my brother Shadow out of it. Anyone that touches him has got to settle with me. I expect to be right thar’ whar the head breakin’ is done.”
“We will all be right there, John,” I said. “That’s why I sent for you. We’ve got to try our best to stop this dern foolishness. It’s too late to stop Androfski from coming. But we can turn him back when he comes. We won’t let any of this bare fist fight come off.”
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