CHAPTER IV
IMPLIED ACCUSATION
Frank Simpson was the first to take definite action. He looked sharplyat the man, as the latter gave the surprising information abouttrophies, and then, in a low voice, said to his companions in the barge:
"Let's go ashore, fellows."
"What for; to be insulted again?" asked Tom. "I'm not going to stand forthat fellow's insinuations. Who is he, anyhow?"
"I don't know," answered Frank, "and for the very same reason that I,neither, do not intend to stand for any imputation, I want to go ashore.Give way!"
They urged their heavy craft shoreward.
"They are certainly gone," went on the man, as he continued to rummageabout in the wreckage of his boat. "And it means a big loss to me. Ifyou boys were here----"
"Say, just hold on a minute, my friend," interrupted Frank, in that coolway of his. "Just go a bit slow about making cracks. It might not bealtogether healthy!" and the eyes of the Big Californian glowed.
"But I tell you it's a big loss!" went on the man. "I must find thethings--money won't pay for them!"
"Now suppose we go at this thing systematically," suggested Frank, hischums, by common consent, letting him assume the leadership. "We don'tany of us know you, except that we all recall seeing you land on themain shore in your motor-boat a day or so ago. It was this same boat, Itake it."
"The same," answered the man. "And now----"
"Wait," suggested Frank, holding up his hand. "As for us, we'reRandall College students, as you can easily verify. We'll give you ournames--fellows, cards," and Frank handed over one of his own, the othersdoing the same.
"That's all right," spoke the man, in half-sullen tones; "but that isn'tgoing to bring back my stuff."
"Do you think we took it?" snapped Frank, and there was a warning glintin his eyes.
"No--not exactly--but you lads were at my boat, you say, and this isthe first time I've seen it since I left it with those cups and othervaluables in."
"Well, that's a long way from proving that we took anything," went onFrank. "It's laughable, or, it would be if it wasn't so serious."
"Who are you, anyhow?" burst out Tom Parsons, unable to restrain hiscuriosity longer. "This thing is getting too deep for me. How did youcome to have the Boxer Hall trophy cups?"
"Perhaps I had better explain," went on the man. "I am Edward Farson,and I'm in the jewelry business in Haddonfield. I've only recentlystarted up, and I'm working a new line of trade. I am an expert repairerand mender of old jewelry, and I find that many residents along theriver here, as well as out in the country, have old jewelry they wantmade into modern forms.
"As I happened to own a motor-boat I decided to use that in making callsalong the river, and I have been quite successful. Then learning thatthe colleges hereabouts had many cups and trophies that grew tarnished,or were broken, I solicited orders in that line. I also do engraving,putting the names of the winners and all that on the cups.
"The other day--the time I remember now when I saw you at Mr. Borden'sdock--I had collected quite a few pieces of jewelry, some fromcustomers, some from the students at Fairview Institute, and a number oftrophy cups from Boxer Hall.
"I had a call to make at Mr. Borden's, and, leaving the jewelry andcups in a box in one of the lockers of the boat, I ran my craft in theboathouse, as you saw, locked it up, and went up the hill to call onMrs. Borden. As the box of valuables was rather heavy I did not want tocarry it with me. I thought it would be safe."
"We heard you remark as much," interpolated Sid.
"Yes? Well, I expected to be back right away, but when I got to thehouse I found unexpected news awaiting me. There had come a telephonemessage from the clerk in my store, who knew that I was to be at Mrs.Borden's at a certain time. I had told him to that effect, as my elderlymother is very ill, and I wanted to be kept informed of her condition.The doctor communicated by wire with my clerk, and the latter left withMrs. Borden a message to the effect that my mother was sinking, and thatI was to hasten if I wanted to see her alive.
"That, as you may suppose, drove from my mind all thoughts of thevaluables left in my boat. Or, if I did think of them at all, it musthave been to hope that they would be safe, locked in the boathouse asthey were, and with no one but myself--as I supposed--knowing of them.
"Mrs. Borden, whom I have known for some time, as soon as she had givenme the message about my mother, offered me the use of a horse andcarriage to get to my mother's house, which is quite a way back from theriver, off in the country.
"I accepted and drove away, never even mentioning to Mrs. Borden aboutthe jewelry in the locker of my boat. I said I would, on my return,collect the things she wanted repaired. Then I hastened to my mother.
"I found the dear old lady quite ill, and for a time her life wasdespaired of. But she rallied, and when my sister came to take charge ofmatters, I decided to come back to my business. But, in the meanwhile,as you know, there was the flood.
"When I went back to the Bordens, it was to find that their boathousehad been washed away by the high water, carrying my craft with itdown to the lake. I was nearly crazy, not only at my own loss, butover the missing valuables, which I knew I could never replace. Iborrowed a small boat to-day, and set off in search of my launch. Ilooked in several places where it might have lodged, and when I sawyou boys--well, you know the rest," and the jeweler concluded with apathetic air, as though his troubles was too much for him.
"It's rather a queer story," commented Frank. "As for our part in it, itis just as we told you. We landed here by accident, and saw the wreckof the boat. We assumed what had happened, but we saw nothing of any boxof cups and jewelry. Then we rowed away and met you."
"I'm much obliged to you for the information," said Mr. Farson, "andI--of course--I'm bound to believe you," he went on, a bit awkwardly."Then you didn't see a trace of them?"
"Of course not!" cried Phil. "Don't you believe us?"
"Oh, yes--yes, of course. I only thought that maybe, as my boat is sobroken up, and the parts scattered about, that you might have lookedfarther along the shores of the island. The box may have held together,and be lodged somewhere."
"Perhaps it has," said Frank, calmly. "I'd advise you to lookthoroughly. You might find it. Come on, fellows," and he led the wayback to the boat.
Tom Parsons acted as though he intended to speak, but Sid nudged him inthe ribs, and the youth kept quiet.
Mr. Farson stared after the boys as though much disappointed at theirdesertion, and then, looking to the fastening of the rowing craft inwhich he had come ashore, he began walking along the edge of the island,where many signs of the high water still remained.
"What did you want to come away for in such a hurry?" asked Tom,in a low voice, when they were some distance out. "You were on yourhigh-horse for fair, Frank."
"And why shouldn't I be? Do you think I was going to stay there, andhelp him hunt, after he practically insulted us the way he did? As if weknew anything about his musty old jewelry!"
"That's right!" broke in Phil. "I wouldn't lift my hand to help him,after he made that implied accusation. We didn't see any of his stuff!"
"Oh, so that's the reason," replied Tom. "Well, I guess it was a goodone, Frank."
"Those Boxer Hall lads will be up in the air all right when they learnthat their trophies are gone," suggested Sid. "I wonder if there wereany of the ones they won in the last meet?"
"They didn't get many," chuckled Frank. "But it will be quite a lossto them. However, it's none of our funeral. I wouldn't trust any of myjewelry to a man who would go off and leave it in a motor-boat for anight and a day."
"Oh, well, he didn't mean to. When he got that message about his mother,I suppose it flustered him," said Tom, in extenuation.
"It's hard to blame him," commented Frank. "But he's in a pickle allright. Now let's do some fast rowing."
They hit up the pace, but they did not have enough practice to maintainit, especially in the heavy barge, and
soon they were all panting,while the oars took the water raggedly, and Sid caught a crab thatnearly sent him overboard.
"I guess we need some coaching," admitted that lad, when he hadrecovered himself. "We're not racers yet, by a long shot. Slow down abit, fellows."
"Oh, we're too soft!" complained Frank. "We'll never amount to anythingin a shell if we can't stand this. Think of a four-mile row at topspeed."
"But we'll be in better shape for it after a course of training and somecoaching," declared Phil. "Then, too, we'll have this Summer vacation topractice in."
At slower speed they rowed up to their boathouse dock, and were soonstrolling across the campus to their room, discussing the events of thelast few hours.
"I can't get over the nerve of that jeweler!" exclaimed the BigCalifornian. "He nearly got me going."
"I could see that," commented Tom. "It was a good thing we came awaywhen we did."
"Oh, well, he wasn't exactly responsible for what he said. Be a bitcharitable," advised Sid.
"Well, how's the racing game progressing?" asked Holly Cross, as he metour friends. "When is that second-hand shell coming so we can practice?"
"That's up to Dan Woodhouse," explained Tom. "Kindlings is chairman ofthat committee. Let's look him up."
"I wonder if Boxer Hall will row us in the Fall?" asked Bricktop Molloy,strolling up. "It will make a double season for them."
"I don't believe they'll dare refuse when we've beaten them at almosteverything else," spoke Frank. "But we'll soon know about that. DutchHousenlager said he had written to their crew captain and coach, andexpected an answer soon."
"They ought to be glad to row us," commented Tom. "It will give them achance to get more cups to replace those they lost."
"How lost?" asked Holly Cross. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, it's a great story!" cried Sid, and he proceeded to relate, aidedby his chums, the incident of the smashed motor-boat.
"Too bad," commented Bricktop. "I know how we'd feel if such a thinghappened here. But that fellow may find his stuff. Here comes PeteBackus. Hi, Grasshopper!" he called, to a long lad who imagined he was achampion jumper, "are you going to try for the crew?"
"I sure am," was the confident answer. "I used to row a lot when a kid,and I guess I haven't forgotten."
"He's too light by fifteen pounds," declared Frank, in a low voice."About one hundred and sixty is a good average."
"Thank goodness we're all of us that," said Tom, looking at the chumsgathered about him.
"Are there going to be single races?" asked a lad, stepping up to jointhe group. He was a well dressed chap, reputed to be wealthy in his ownright. His name was Reginald Boswell.
"Why, yes, Reggie," said Tom, in the drawling tones affected by theother, "we count on having single shells. Are you going to compete?"
"Aw, say, I wish you wouldn't call me Reggie. I hate that name!"exclaimed the lad, who was completing his Freshman year. "Cawn't youcall me just--er--Boswell?"
"How would Bossy do for short, me lad?" asked Bricktop. "Not that you'rea calf, you know; but Bossy has a sweet sound, thinkest thou not so, mycomrades?" and he appealed to his chums with accompanying winks.
"Aw, I say now, quit spoofing me, cawn't you?" appealed the richlad. "Bossy is too rotten silly, you know," and he drew a scentedhandkerchief from the pocket of his rather loud, and swagger clothes,which, as he always took the trouble to inform all who appearedinterested, were made in "Lunnon." Mr. Reginald Boswell had traveledabroad, it seemed.
"You ought to be thankful for any nickname, Bossy," put in Holly Cross."It isn't every Freshman who is thus honored. It's going to be Bossy ornothing."
"Oh, but I say, Reggie isn't as bad as that!"
"Bossy or nothing!" insisted Bricktop.
"Well, then, tell me about the single shells," went on the rich student,evidently deciding to accept the less of two evils. "I'd like to row inthose contests."
"Well, I guess you can--if you can make good," said Frank. "Come on,fellows," and he linked his arms in those of Sid and Tom, and walkedthem off toward their dormitory, followed by others of the chums,leaving Bossy, as he was generally called after that christening, tocontemplate them with mingled feelings.
"Silly rotters!" he murmured after the manner of some of his Englishacquaintances. "I'll show them I can row, though!"
The news of the loss of the Boxer Hall cups was soon known all overRandall, and, in the next day or so, it was generally talked of, forthere was a reward offered by the distracted jeweler, an articleappearing in the local paper about it.
"I guess he didn't find any trace of them on the island," commented Sid.
"The box is probably at the bottom of the lake," was Tom's opinion.
It was several days after this that the four chums were in Haddonfield,partaking of a little supper after a vaudeville entertainment. Therestrolled into the restaurant some lads from Boxer Hall, among them oneor two members of the eight-oared crew.
"Hello, Dave!" greeted Tom and the others.
"Too bad about your trophies; wasn't it," added Phil.
"Rotten!" conceded Dave. "Some of them were old timers, too."
"I--er--I understand that you lads were the _first_ to discover theloss," put in Harry Cedstrom, one of the new students at Boxer Hall, anda member of the crew. There was a strange emphasis on the word "first."
"The _first_ to discover it--what do you mean?" asked Frank Simpson,bristling up.
"I mean that you were first at the wrecked boat that had held the box ofjewelry," went on Harry, while some of his companions nudged him to keephim quiet.
"We happened to be there," admitted Frank, in a quiet voice that, to hisfriends, always presaged an outburst of righteous indignation. "We sawthe wrecked boat, and called the attention of the owner to it. We wentback with him, and then he told us his loss. That's how we happened tobe the first, after Mr. Farson himself."
"Oh, I see," spoke Harry. "Then you were at the boat _before_ he was?"
"Cut it out; can't you?" demanded Dave of his friend, in a hoarsewhisper.
"Yes," said Frank quietly, "we were there before Mr. Farson," and helooked the other student straight in the eyes.
"And you didn't see anything of our cups?"
"Just what do you mean?" demanded Frank quietly, half rising in hischair, while Tom laid a hand on him in restraint.
"Oh," went on Harry easily, "I thought maybe you fellows might havetaken our trophies----"
"Hold on!" cried Frank, and he arose with such suddenness that his chairoverturned. Tom arose also, and clung to the arm of the Big Californian,whispering rapidly:
"Quiet, Frank. Keep quiet! Don't have a row here!"
"In a joke!" finished Harry Cedstrom with an attempt at a smile. Therewas a dead silence in the groups of students.
The Eight-Oared Victors: A Story of College Water Sports Page 5