The High School Boys' Training Hike

by H. Irving Hancock

  CHAPTER III

  THE PEDDLER AND THE LAWYER'S HALF

  Just before leaving Gridley, Greg Holmes had bought a copy ofthe "Blade" from a newsboy.

  Three miles out, the chums enjoyed their first halt.

  "Ten minutes' rest under this tree," Dick announced, for alreadythe August morning sun was beating down upon them.

  Greg drew out his copy of the newspaper, unfolding it.

  "Say!" he yelled suddenly.

  "Stop that," commanded Tom Reade, "or you'll make the horse runaway and wreck our outfit."

  "But this paper says-----"

  "Stop it," ordered Tom with a scowl. "I know what you're goingto do. You'll read us some exciting stuff, and get us all workedup, and then in the last paragraph you'll stumble on the factthat some well-known Tottenville man was cured of all his ailmentsby Brown's Blood Bitters."

  "Can you hold your tongue a minute?" demanded Greg ironically.

  "Not when I see you headed that way," retorted Reade. "I've beenfooled by the same style of exciting item, and I know how cheapit makes a fellow feel when he comes to the name of the Bitters,the Pills or the Sarsaparilla. Holmesy, I want to save your facefor you with this crowd."

  "Will you keep quiet, for a moment, and let the other fellowshear, even if you have to take a walk in order to save your ownears?" demanded Greg, with sarcasm. "This piece is about DickPrescott, and he doesn't sign patent medicine test-----"

  "Dick Prescott?" demanded Darrin. "Whoop! Let's have it!"

  "It isn't a roast, is it?" demanded Danny Grin solemnly.

  "No; it isn't," Greg went on. "Listen, while I read the headlines."

  It was a four-line heading, beginning with "Dick Prescott's FineNerve."

  "There! I was afraid it was a roast, after all," sighed DannyGrin.

  "Take that fellow away and muzzle him," ordered Greg, then proceededto read the other sections of the headlines.

  By this time Greg had a very attentive audience. Even Tom Readehad ceased to scoff.

  "Oh, bosh!" gasped Dick, when Greg was about one third of theway through the column article.

  "Isn't it true?" demanded Dave.

  "After a fashion," Dick admitted.

  "Then hold off and be good while the rest of us hear about yesterday'sdoings."

  So Dick stood by, his face growing redder and redder as the readingproceeded.

  "That's what I call a dandy story," declared Greg as he finishedreading.

  "Dick, why didn't you tell us something about it last night?"demanded Hazelton.

  "What was the use?" asked Prescott. "And, though I've alwaysthought the 'Blade' a fine local newspaper, I don't quite approveof Mr. Pollock's judgment of news values in this instance. Isuspect that Mr. Pollock must have been away, and that Mr. Bradley,the news editor, ran this in."

  "It sounds like some of Len Spencer's stuff," guessed Dave. "He'sgreat on local events."

  "If they had to print the yarn, eight or ten lines would havecovered it," Dick declared. "Fellows, we've used up eighteenminutes for our halt, instead of ten. Come on!"

  Greg, however, after rising, and before starting, was carefulto fold the "Blade" neatly and to tuck it away in a pocket. Hemeant to save that news story.

  All of our readers are familiar with the lives and doings of DickPrescott and his friends up to date.

  "Dick & Co.," as the boys styled their unorganized club of chums,was made up of the six boys, who had been fast friends back intheir days of study at the Central Grammar School of Gridley.

  They had been together in everything, and notably so in athleticsand sports. All that befell them in their later days at CentralGrammar School is told fully in the four volumes of the "_GrammarSchool Boys Series_."

  Yet it was when these same boys entered Gridley High School thatthey came into the fullest measure of their local fame and popularity.Even as freshmen they found a chance to accomplish far more forschool athletics than is usually permitted to freshmen. It wasdue to their efforts that athletics were put on a sound financialbasis in the Gridley High School. All this and more is describedin the first volume of the "_High School Boys Series_," entitled"_The High School Freshmen_."

  But it was in the second volume of that series, "_The High SchoolPitcher_," that our readers found Dick & Co. entered fully inthe training squads of one of the most famous of American highschools. As described in the third volume, "_The High SchoolLeft End_," Dick & Co. were transferred from the baseball nineto the gridiron eleven, and by this time had become the undisputedathletic leaders of Gridley High School. These honors they hadnot won without tremendous opposition, especially by the formationof the notorious "Sorehead Squad" to oppose their hard earnedsupremacy in football. Yet Dick & Co. ever went strenuously forward,in manly, clean-cut fashion, working unceasingly for the furtheringof honest American sport. Between the plottings of their enemiesand a host of adventures on all sides, the school life of Dick& Co. proved exciting indeed.

  In the "_High School Boys' Vacation Series_" our readers havefollowed the summer doings of Dick & Co. as distinguished fromthe doings of their crowded school years. The first volume devotedto the vacations of Dick & Co., "_The High School Boys' CanoeClub_," describes the adventures of our lads in an Indian warcanoe which even their slender financial resources enabled themto buy at an auction sale of the effects of a stranded Wild WestShow. In the second volume of this series, "_The High SchoolBoys In Summer Camp_," our readers came upon an even more excitingnarrative of keenly enjoyed summer doings, replete with livelyadventures. In that volume the activities of Tag Mosher, a strangelyodd character, kept Dick & Co. continually on the alert. In thethird volume of the vacation series, entitled "_The High SchoolBoys' Fishing Trip_," were chronicled the things that befell Dick& Co. while away on a fishing expedition that became famous inthe annals of Gridley school days. This third volume was fullto the brim with the sort of adventures that boys most love.Some old enemies of Dick & Co. appeared; how they were put torout is well known to all our readers. How Dick & Co. playeda huge joke, and several smaller ones upon their enemies, is describedin that volume.

  In this present volume will be recounted all that befell Dick& Co. in August after completing their junior year in GridleyHigh School, just as the preceding or third volume dealt withthe happenings of July of that same summer.

  After that first halt Dick & Co. plodded on for another hour.But Prescott, noting that Hazelton was still on the driver'sseat of the camp wagon, blandly inquired:

  "Harry, if you sit up there, lazily holding the reins, how doyou expect to get your share of the training work of this hike?"

  "Perhaps I'd rather have the comfort than the training work,"laughed Hazelton.

  "That will never do!" smiled Dick. "Suppose you climb down andlet Danny Grin take your place at the reins until the next halt.I suspect that Danny boy already has a few pebbles in his shoes,and that he'll be glad enough to look over the world from thedriver's seat."

  "I'm willing to sacrifice myself for the good of the expedition,anyway," sighed Dalzell, as Harry drew rein. "Come down withyou, Hazy, and begin to share the delights of this walking match!"

  The change of drivers made, Dick & Co. plodded on again.

  "It seems to me that we ought to put on more speed," suggestedDave Darrin.

  "Are you in a hurry to get somewhere, Darry?" drawled Tom Reade.

  "No," Dave replied, "but, if we're out for training, it seemsto me that we had better do brisker walking than we're doing now,even if the horse can't keep up with us."

  "We're making about three miles and a half an hour," Dick responded.

  "But will that be work enough to make us as hard as nails?" persistedDarry.

  "We're getting over the ground as fast as the troops of the regulararmy usually travel," Prescott rejoined. "I believe our regularsare generally regarded as rather perfect specimens in the walkingline. We might move along at a speed of six miles, and mightkeep it up for an hour. T
hen we'd be footsore, and all in. Ifthe first hour didn't do it, the second hour would. But if weplug along in this deliberate fashion, and get over fifteen, eighteenor twenty miles a day, and keep it up, I don't believe any oneof you fellows will complain, September first, that he isn't ashard and solid as he wants to be---even for bucking the footballlines, of other high schools."

  "I know that I can be satisfied with this gait," murmured Reade.

  "If Darry wants to move faster," suggested Hazelton, "why nottell him where to wait for us, and let him gallop ahead?"

  "I'll stay with the rest of you," Darry retorted. "All I wantto make sure of is that we're going to get the most out of ourtraining work this summer."

  "I'll tell you what you might do, Dave, by way of extra exerciseand hardening," offered Tom.

  "What?" asked Dave suspiciously.

  "I believe we're going to halt every hour for a brief rest"

  "Yes."

  "While the five of us are resting under the trees, Darry, youmight climb the trees, swinging from limb to limb and leapingfrom tree to tree. Of course you'll select trees that are notdirectly over our heads."

  "Humph!" retorted Dave.

  "Try it, anyway," urged Tom, "it's fine exercise, even if yougive it up after a while."

  "I'll try it as often as you do," Darrin agreed with a grin.

  Their second halt found the high school boys more than six milesfrom their starting point.

  On this trip they were not heading in the direction they had followedon their fishing trip. Instead, they were traveling in the oppositedirection from Gridley, through a fairly populous farming region.

  At a quarter-past ten o'clock Dick called for another halt. Theroad map that the boys had brought along showed them that theywere now eleven miles from Gridley.

  "Pretty fair work," muttered Tom, "considering that these roadswere built by men who had never seen any better kind."

  "We can more than double the distance," suggested Dave, "beforewe go into camp for the night."

  "If we hike a couple more miles this morning, then halt, get thenoon meal and rest until two o'clock," replied young Prescott,"I think we shall do better."

  "If we've gone only eleven miles," protested Darrin, "then I'mcertainly good for twenty-five miles in all to-day, and I believethe rest of you are, too."

  "Wait until we've done eighteen or twenty miles," Prescott proposed."Then we can take a vote about making it twenty-five."

  "For one thing," Darry objected, "none of us actually walks twenty-fivemiles when we cover that distance. We take turns riding on thewagon, and, as there are six of us, that means that each fellowrides something like four miles of the distance covered."

  "What Darry is driving at," proposed Danny Grin, "is that he wantsto devote himself wholly to walking hereafter. He doesn't careabout driving the horse."

  "I'm big enough and cranky enough to do my own talking, when thereis any reason for my entering into the conversation," smiled Dave.

  At a little after eleven that morning, when thirteen and a halfmiles had been covered, all hands were willing enough to haltand rest, prepare luncheon and rest again.

  "But I still hope we shall cover the twenty-five miles to-day,"Darry insisted.

  "No difficulty about that, either," declared Harry Hazelton."Darry, while we are swapping stories over the campfire this eveningyou can take a lantern and do an extra five miles by way of anevening walk. Then you'll be tired enough to sleep."

  "I'll see about it," Darrin laughed.

  "And that's the last we'll hear about it," Tom predicted dryly.

  "It is the experience of every military commander, so I've read,"Dick went on, "that a long march the first day of a big hike isno especially good sign of how the soldiers will hold out to theend. On the contrary, military men have found that it's betterto march a shorter distance on the first day and to work up graduallyto a good standard of performance."

  "All right," agreed Hazelton. "For one, I'm willing to take arest after eating, and then take the afternoon for getting acquaintedwith this pretty grove."

  "We won't quite do that, either, if I have my way," Prescott laughed."We ought to do a few miles this afternoon, but not set out todo any record-breaking or back-breaking stunt."

  "There goes hazy's dream up in the air," laughed Greg. "I justknew that Hazy was planning how to spend the afternoon napping."

  "I'll volunteer to drive all the way, this afternoon," Harry offered."That will give all of you fellows a chance to harden yourselvesmore on the first day."

  "If you want to know a good definition of 'generosity,' then askHazy," snorted Dalzell.

  "Come on!" cried Dick good-humoredly. "Scatter. Some for wood,some for water. Tom and I will get the kitchen kit ready fora meal. But we must have the wood and water before we can prepareluncheon."

  At that suggestion of something to eat there was a general rushto get things in readiness. As soon as a fire was going in thestove in the wagon, Dick put on a frying pan. Into this he droppedseveral slices of bacon. Tom, over a fire built on the ground,set the coffee-pot going. In a pot on the stove Dick put potatoesto cook.

  Now Dave rattled out the dishes, as soon as Greg and Hazy hadset up the folding table. Dan placed the chairs.

  "Get ready!" called Dick, as soon as he had fried two plattersfull of bacon and eggs. Tom, will you try the potatoes?"

  "Done," responded Reade, after prodding the potatoes with a fork.

  "What shall we do with the food that's left over?" asked DannyGrin, as he began to eat.

  "There isn't going to be any food left over," Dick laughed. "Youfellows will be lucky, indeed, if you get as much as you want."

  Everyone was satisfied, however, by the time that the meal wasfinished.

  "Greg and Harry may have the pleasure of washing the dishes,"Dick suggested.

  "Oh, dear!" grunted Hazy, but he went at his task without furtherremarks.

  Before one o'clock everything was in readiness for going forwardagain, save for putting the horse between the shafts of the wagon.Prescott, however, put a proposition to rest until two o'clockbefore his chums. It was unanimously carried.

  Despite his desire for a walking record that day, Darry provedquite willing to lie off at full length in the shade of the treesand doze as much as the flies would permit.

  Dick and Tom strolled slowly down toward the road, halting bya couple of trees.

  "There's something you don't often see, nowadays," spoke up Tomafter a while.

  He nodded back up the road. Coming in the same direction thatthe boys themselves had traveled was a faded, queer-looking oldred wagon, much decorated on the outside by a lot of hanging,swinging tin and agate ware.

  "That's the old-fashioned tin-peddler that I've heard a good dealabout as being a common enough character some forty years ago,"said Prescott. "Our grandmothers used to save up meat-bones,rags and bottles and trade them off to the peddler, receivingtinware in return."

  "The man on that wagon was doing business forty years ago," remarkedTom. "In fact, judging by his appearance, he must have been quitea veteran at the business even forty years ago."

  A bent, little old man it was who was perched upon the seat ofthe red wagon. Once upon a time his hair had been tawny. Nowit was streaked liberally with gray. He was smoking a blacklittle wooden pipe and paying small attention to the sad-eyed,bony horse between the shafts. There was a far-away, rather dulllook in the old peddler's eyes.

  Just before he reached the boys, whom he had not seen, he tooka piece of paper from his pocket, pulled his spectacles down fromhis forehead and read the paper.

  "I don't understand it," muttered the peddler, aloud. "I can'tunderstand it. I wish I had someone to give me the right of it."

  "Could we be of any service, sir?" Reade inquired.

  Hearing a human voice so close at hand the peddler started foran instant. Then he pulled in the horse.

  "I dunno whether you can be of much us
e to me," answered the peddlerslowly. "You don't look old enough to know much about business."

  "Still, I know more than anyone would think, from just lookingat me," volunteered Reade, reddening a bit as he saw the laughterin Dick Prescott's eyes.

  "Maybe you can explain this riddle," went on the peddler, extendingthe sheet of white paper. "It can't do any harm to give you achance. You see, I had a bill of twenty dollars against BillPeterson. The bill had been running three years, and I couldn'tget anything out of Bill but promises without any exact datestied to 'em. I needed the money as bad as Bill did, so at lastI went to Lawyer Stark to see what could be done about it. LawyerStark said he'd tackle the job if I'd give him half. I agreedto that, for half a loaf is better'n nothing at all, as you mayhave heard. Then weeks went by, and I heard nothing from SquireStark. So the other night I writ a letter, asking him how thecollection of the bill was coming on. This is the answer he sendsme."

  So Tom read aloud, from the typewritten sheet, the followingremarkably brief communication:

  "Dear Sir: Answering your letter of yesterday's date, I have toadvise you that I have collected my half of the Peterson bill.Your half I regard as extremely doubtful."

  This was signed with the name of Lawyer Stark.

  Tom Reade glanced through the note again, then gave vent to ashout of laughter.

  "Eh?" asked the peddler looking puzzled.

  "I beg your pardon, sir," replied Reade instantly. "I shouldn'thave laughed, but this struck me, at first, as one of the funniestletters I ever saw. So the lawyer has collected his half of thetwenty and regards the collection of your half as exceedinglydoubtful!"

  "Shouldn't Lawyer Stark give me half of the ten he got from BillPeterson?" asked the peddler anxiously.

  "Undoubtedly he should," Tom assented, "and just as undoubtedlyhe hasn't any idea of doing so."

  "What do you say, young man?" inquired the peddler, turning toyoung Prescott.

  "Why, sir, if you are asking about your legal chance of gettinghalf of that ten dollars from the lawyer," Dick answered, "thenI'm afraid you stand a poor show. If the lawyer won't pay youthe money, then you would have to sue him. Even if you won thesuit, the fight would cost you a good deal more than the amountyou would recover. And the lawyer might beat you, even if yousued him."

  "Then---what's the answer?" demanded the peddler slowly.

  "I know the answer," said Tom confidently, "but it would be ashame to tell you, sir."

  "Just the same, I wish you would," replied the peddler coaxingly.

  "The answer," replied Reade, "is that you have been cheated."

  "But it looks to me like a mean trick," Dick went on.

  "What am I going to do about it?" asked the peddler wonderingly.

  "I don't believe you can do anything about it, sir," Prescottanswered, "unless you are willing to sue the lawyer, or can makehim agree to fair play. But I certainly would drop in to seehim and tell him that you expect just half of what he has so farcollected."

  "I believe I'll do that," replied Peddler Hinman, judging fromthe address on the letter, that was his name. "I don't liketo be made a fool of by any man---especially when I need moneyas badly as any other man on my route."

  Dick took a sweeping glance at the peddler's shabby attire. While,of course, the size of a man's bank account cannot be judged fromhis wardrobe, Mr. Hinman had the appearance of needing money asmuch as he declared. The horse, too, looked as though a generousfeed of oats would do him good.

  "And to think of all the things I know about Squire Stark, too,"murmured Mr. Hinman, apparently speaking to himself and not realizingthat his words carried to the boys' ears. "If he had a littlemore judgment, Silas Stark would treat me with more fairness."

  "I'm very sorry if I seemed too much amused," Tom apologized earnestly,"but that letter, apart from its meaning to you, really is funny."

  "I---I suppose so," assented Reuben Hinman sighing, and the far-awaylook returning to his eyes. "But I---I need the money!"

  "And both of us hope that you will get it, sir, the whole of yourhalf," said Dick Prescott heartily.

  "Anyway, I'm much obliged to both of you boys," said the peddler."Giddap, Prince!"

  Somehow, both boys thought that Reuben Hinman drooped more onthe seat of his wagon than before. He drove off slowly, evidentlydoing a lot of hard thinking.

  "Poor old man!" muttered Tom sympathetically.

  "He looks a bit slow-witted," Prescott suggested. "I'm afraidhe has always been going through life wondering at the doingsof others, and especially at the success of unprincipled men hehas had to deal with."

  "Do you know," remarked Reade, gazing after the bent, huddledlittle figure, "I've a notion that there has been a lot in thatpoor fellow's life that has been downright tragic."

  Tragic? Without doubt! Moreover, though Dick could not guessit, he and his friends were soon to be mixed up in the tragicside of Peddler Hinman's life.