CHAPTER XX
A STRANGE CONFERENCE
"You missed it, old man; we had a dandy time," remarked Frank, when he,together with Sid and Phil, drifted into the sleeping tent some timelater.
"That's right, Tom," added Sid. "The cake was good."
"And the lemonade, too," added Phil.
"Um!" sleepily grunted Tom. Or was he only simulating sleep?
"And the girls were jolly," went on Frank.
"And Ruth wanted to know why you hadn't come," proceeded Sid, keeping upthe chorus of description.
"Oh, let me go to sleep," growled Tom.
"Bossy and his chum blew in, but they didn't stay long," added Phil. "Iguess they didn't expect to find us there."
"Was Boswell there?" demanded Tom, sitting up on his cot.
"Sure," retorted Sid, at the same time giving Frank a nudge in the ribsas much as to say: "There's where the shoe pinches."
"I've got a headache," said Tom, only half truthfully. "I guess that rowin the hot sun was a little too much for me to-day."
"Can we do anything for you?" asked Frank, trying to make his voicesound anxious.
"No, I'll sleep it off," and turning with his face toward the tent wall,Tom proceeded to slumber--or pretend to.
It was two days after this when Tom and Ruth met. He had studiouslyavoided calling at the Tyler cottage, though the other boys went overeach evening. Tom gave some excuse, and each time Sid and the otherscame in at night they would remark about the good time they had had.
"You're missing it," declared Phil, winking at his chums. "Boswell isfilling in your place fine."
"Was he there again?" snapped Tom.
"Sure thing. He and Sis seem to get on well together, though I don'tcare for the chap. Still he isn't such a bad sort as I thought at first."
As a matter of fact Boswell had not called since that first evening, butPhil guessed Tom's secret, and wickedly and feloniously egged it on.
"What's the matter, Tom; why haven't you called?" asked Ruth withperfect sincerity when she and the tall pitcher did meet, followingsome busy days devoted for the most part by the boys to rowing practice."I wanted to ask you about something?"
"I--er--I've been busy," he said, trying to make himself believe that.Ruth didn't. "Besides," he blurted out, with a school-boy mannerism thathe hated himself for disclosing, "I thought Mr. Boswell could keep youinterested."
"Tom Parsons!" and Ruth's eyes flashed dangerously.
"He seems to be quite a steady caller," he stumbled on, growing more andmore confused and uncomfortable. He felt more childish than ever, and Iam not saying he was not. "I didn't know whether there'd be room for meand----"
"Tom, I don't think that's fair of you," and Ruth was plainly hurt. "Mr.Boswell has only been over one evening, when the other boys were there,and----"
"Only once?" cried Tom.
"That's all. The same evening of the day when we were out in his launch.I couldn't help talking to him then, and if you think----"
"I don't think anything!" broke in Tom. "I've been a chump. They saidhe'd been over there every night. Oh, wait until I get hold of yourbrother!"
"Did Phil say that?"
"He did."
"Then I'll settle with him, too. But, Tom, I wanted to ask if youthought there was any chance of finding my brooch?"
"I don't know, Ruth. It begins to look rather hopeless."
"That's what I thought, and, as long as I'm not going to get it back Imay as well admit that it is gone. I can't go on deceiving people thisway, even in so small a matter. I suppose it was careless of me to letthe clasp get broken in the first place. I put it on in a hurry one day,and strained it. And in the second place, I suppose I ought to havegiven it to a more reliable jeweler.
"But that Mr. Farson called at the college one day soliciting repairwork to do. He said he had some from Boxer Hall, so I thought he was allright, and let him take my pin. I'm sorry now."
"Yes, it is too bad," assented Tom, "but it can't be helped. I don'treally believe, Ruth, that there's any use looking on this island forthe pin. I have been keeping my eyes open for it, but I'm beginning tothink that it's like hunting for the proverbial thimble in the strawpile."
"You mean needle in the haystack."
"Well, it's the same thing. I never can get those proverbs straight. Theonly hope is that we might, some day, discover who took the things, andyour brooch might be recovered. But it's a pretty slim chance, now thatall our clues seemed to have failed."
"That's what I thought. So I guess I'll confess and brave grandmother'swrath. But, oh! I know she'll never leave me her lovely pearls!"
"Maybe someone else will," suggested Tom. "Will you come down to thestore and have some soda water? He's got in a fresh lot, I believe."
"I will, Tom, for I'm thirsty enough to drink even the lemon-pop Mr.Richards sells. Come on," and the two walked on, the little cloud thathad come between them having blown away. But Ruth said nothing aboutBoswell's promise to show her his mother's old-fashioned brooch. Perhapsshe thought he had forgotten the matter, and, she reasoned, there was noneed of awakening Tom's jealousy.
It was after Tom had parted from Ruth, with a promise to call thatevening with the other boys, that, walking along the island shore,taking a short cut to the camp, he heard voices coming from thedirection of the water. He looked through the screen of bushes, and sawBoswell and the Mexican caretaker, sitting in a boat not far from shore.The college lad was handing Mendez something, and by the sun's rays Tomcaught the glitter of gold. At the same time a puff of wind broughttheir voices plainly to him, the water aiding in carrying the tones.
"Do you think you could get an old-fashioned pin like that?" Boswell wasasking. "You know something about jewelry; don't you?"
"Of a surety, senor. But this would be hard to duplicate. It is veryold."
"I know, but I want one like that, or as near it as possible. Can't youget one the same place you got that?"
"No, senor, that was the only one there was, and when I sell him to youfor your respected mother I regret that I can get no more of him."
"Where did you get that?" asked Boswell, as he took back from theMexican what Tom could now see was some sort of breastpin.
"Why do you ask, senor?" retorted the man, quickly.
"Oh, nothing special. Why, you act as though you thought that I wasgoing to accuse you of stealing it."
"Never, senor!" exclaimed the man quickly. "I get this from a friend,and I sell it to you for very little more than I paid."
"Oh, it was cheap enough," went on the lad. "I'm not kicking. Only I'dlike to get another. I knew mother would like this, and she did. Sheloves old-fashioned things."
"And you want another for one who also loves of the time that ispast--is that it, senor?"
"You've guessed it, Mendez. But keep mum about it. I want to surpriseher."
Then the wind, blowing in a contrary direction, carried the voices away,and Tom kept on, having only halted momentarily.
The Eight-Oared Victors: A Story of College Water Sports Page 21