Boys of Oakdale Academy

by Morgan Scott

  CHAPTER XXI.

  WHAT SLEUTH PIPER SAW.

  From the lips of Rollins and Springer the boys of Oakdale Academylearned something of the encounter with Grant during the rabbit hunt,but, naturally, even Springer colored his statements in a manner whichdid not place Barker in an unfavorable light. Save to sneer about theboy from Texas, Berlin himself had little to say. Nevertheless, thegeneral impression went forth that Rod had first threatened to shootSilver Tongue, and had been prevented from doing so only by Barker’sfirm stand. This added to the almost universal dislike in which theyoung Texan was held.

  Ben Stone refrained from questioning Grant directly, but he gave Rod achance to make a statement, and was disappointed when the latterbetrayed a disinclination to talk of the matter.

  Grant still bore himself with unruffled independence, paying suchattention to his studies that he stood high in his classes and receivedthe outspoken approval of Prof. Richardson. This also, under thecircumstances, did not conduce to his popularity. With Davis and Landerhe continued friendly at all times, actually taking a sort of perversesatisfaction in the knowledge that his enemies were calling attentionto his behavior as proof of their just estimate of his character.

  A bit of “soft weather,” with cold nights, made excellent sliding, andevening after evening the double runners, loaded with laughing,shouting boys and girls, went shooting down Main Street through thevery center of the town and over the bridge as far as the railwaystation. Although Rod was never caught watching them, more than once hepaused at a distance to listen to their joyous cries, and, truth totell, there was regret in his heart.

  Thursday morning Sleuth Piper, reaching the academy, had a tale for theears of a group of interested listeners. Mysteriously beckoning theboys around him in the coat room, Piper held up one finger for silence.

  “’Sh!” he sibilated. “Perhaps some of you fellows observed that I wasnot out sliding last night. I struck a trail. Having noticed that oneRodney Grant and his two boon companions were not to be discoveredaround the village evenings, my astute mind led me to the deductionthat they must be up to something of a dark and secret nature. Lastnight, from a place of secure cover, I watched with the patience of aredskin, and eventually I was well rewarded for so doing. I saw themiscreants meet secretly on High Street, near the foot of the pathwhich leads to the home of Priscilla Kent. Under cover of darkness thebeforesaid miscreants set forth to the westward, totally unaware that Iwas shadowing them. Of course, as there was no immediate cover forconcealment, my task was extremely difficult, and when they reached theBarville road I lost them.”

  “Is that all you’ve got to tell us?” asked Chub Tuttle, cracking apeanut. “I thought you’d caught them robbing a hen-roost or breakinginto a bank.”

  “I lost them for the time being,” continued Sleuth, undisturbed; “but,after meditating at the corner for some time, I was led to thededuction that they had gone north toward Turkey Hill, as it was notprobable they would have chosen that roundabout course to turn theother way.”

  “Great head, Sleuth,” complimented Cooper.

  “They must have made haste,” said Piper; “for, though I hustled alongall the way to the hill, my searching eyes failed to discover even aglimpse of them. Nevertheless, I was not baffled. Further meditationled me to decide that there could be only one destination for theaforesaid miscreants. It was awful dark in the woods over back of thehill, but my iron nerve remained unshaken. Setting my teeth firmly, Ifollowed the course of Silver Brook all the way up to the swamp, intothe vastness of which I boldly penetrated.”

  “Daring deed,” murmured Cooper, in mock admiration.

  “By this time,” pursued Piper, unmindful of the interruption, “my keenintellect was satisfied beyond reasonable doubt that the destination ofthat trio of night prowlers was Lander’s old camp. You see, myperspicacity was alive and working.”

  “Who’s he?” questioned Cooper.

  “Who’s who?” snapped Sleuth, irritated.

  “Why, Percy P. Cacity. Have there been rumors afloat concerning hisdeath?”

  “Shut up! You’re interrupting the flowing course of my thrillingnarrative. Having decided beyond doubt that I would find them at Bunk’scamp, I stole onward through the silent depths of the gloomy swamp. Nota sound broke the deathly stillness.”

  “Not even the bark of a dogwood tree?” questioned Chipper.

  Sleuth glared at him. “If you don’t want to listen, go chase yourselfand give others the chance. It was so dark there in the swamp that evenI, with all my keen sagacity, found it difficult to locate that oldcamp. At length, however, I perceived a faint gleam of light, and myheart gave an exultant leap, although my nerves were steady as iron.Guided by the before-mentioned light, I made my perilous way onward. Ihad not been deceived, for the beacon gleamed through the window of theden I sought. I was within a rod of the place when a sudden terribleracket broke forth. The sound of loud and angry voices reached my ears,telling me beyond question that there was a commotion within. Knowingfull well that while they were making all that racket thebefore-mentioned miscreants could not hear me, I dashed forward to thewindow, through which I peered, beholding a scene of strife andcontention. The rascals were there; perhaps they had been there forhalf an hour or more while I was seeking to locate them. They had builta fire, and, by the light of an old kerosene lamp, I perceived thatthey had already engaged in a suitable diversion for such reprehensiblecharacters. Briefly and concisely stated, they had been playingcards—for money.”

  “I wonder where Spotty Davis got the money to play with?” muttered SileCrane.

  “There were cards scattered on the table before them, and I know I sawmoney also,” Piper declared, “Lander was wrought up to a white pitch ofwrath. I give you my verbatim statement that I never saw a feller asmad as he was. From his angry words I instantly gathered that he hadcaught Davis cheating, and he was strenuously seeking to lay violenthands on the aforesaid Davis. Mr. Grant, of Texas, had interfered andwas keeping them apart, though it was plain enough that Spotty wasn’tanxious to mix it up with Bunk. Just as I looked in Lander yelled atGrant to take his hands off, and when the last mentioned party failedto comply Bunk let him have a poke in the mug.”

  “Oh, joy!” chortled Cooper. “That cooked Mr. Grant, didn’t it?”

  “Cooked him!” exclaimed Piper. “It turned him into a raging whirlwind.Say, you should have seen him sail into Lander! Why, he had Bunk pinnedup against the wall, shaking him like a rat, in less than two seconds.I never saw any human being as mad as Grant, and I give you my word hehandled Bunk just like a feller might handle a baby.”

  “Come, come!” scoffingly derided Barker, who had joined the group intime to hear part of this yarn. “What are you giving us, Sleuth? Why,that fellow wouldn’t fight, and, if he did spunk up enough courage totry it, Lander could whip him with one hand tied behind his back.”

  “Don’t you believe it!” spluttered Sleuth. “I know better. I know whatI saw, and he took the starch out of Bunk Lander in double quick order.He just fastened his hooks on Bunk’s woozle and choked him till hiseyes stuck out, and I was beginning to think that would be the finishof the before-mentioned Lander. It was a tragic and terrifyingspectacle. Davis was frightened into fits, and finally he rushedforward and tugged at Grant’s wrists, begging him to stop. Just as Iwas deciding that I had arrived in time to witness red-handed murder,Grant suddenly seemed to come to his senses; he let go of Lander, whodropped in a heap, as limp as a rag, gasping for breath. Davis wascrying by this time; never saw anybody so frightened. Grant backed offa step or two, sort of shivering, his face pale as chalk. ‘Get somewater, Spotty,’ says he. ‘I’m glad I didn’t kill him.’”

  Barker laughed in his cold, sneering way. “You have a vividimagination, Sleuth,” he said; “but you want to quit reading cheapnovels.”

  Piper resented this. “I’ve given you the plain, cold, unadulteratedfacts, Mr. Barker. I
know what I saw.”

  “Perhaps you dreamed it.”

  “Nothing of the sort.”

  “Perhaps you saw them playing cards, but this final sensational touchof your dramatic tale—this account of the fight—is preposterous. Grantwouldn’t any more dare buck up against Bunk Lander than against me.”

  “Take my advice,” said Sleuth, “and don’t count on it too much that hewouldn’t dare tackle you.”

  “Why, that has been proved to everybody’s satisfaction.”

  “Not to mine since what I saw last night. I give you my word, I’drather get a grizzly bear after me than that feller. Soon’s I sawSpotty getting a tin can to bring water, I sagely concluded it was timefor me to move, and straightway I did so. I wasn’t nearly as longgetting out of the swamp as I had been finding Lander’s camp.

  “That’s the whole veracious narrative, faithfully given in the minutestdetail. But let me add that the chap who wakes Rod Grant up and getshim real fighting mad is liable in less than ten seconds to findhimself taken all to pieces and scattered over the immediate vicinity;I’ll stake my professional reputation on it.”

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