Scott Morgan
The New Boys at Oakdale

CHAPTER X – THE LIE

All night long, when he slept at all, Billy Piper played poker in his dreams, tossing and muttering and clawing at the bedding with his hands. But there were several protracted periods in those dark hours when he lay awake, thinking wretchedly of the almost tragic end of that game in Osgood’s rooms. Never had he spent a worse night, and when the gray light of “the morning after” came stealing in at his bedroom window he prayed sincerely that he might never experience another like it.

Dawn brought him some relief from those distressing dreams and haunting visions of Hooker’s prone, coatless figure and ghastly face; and, utterly worn out, he finally sank into a heavy doze. From this he was awakened by the sound of his mother’s voice calling that it was time for him to get up if he wished any breakfast.

Her call had startled him and caused him to jerk himself partly upright in bed, where he remained propped upon his elbow as he answered that he would be down directly. This start had caused a throbbing in his temples, and after a bit he dropped back on the pillow, huskily muttering:

“What a night – what a horrible night!”

Lying there, he somewhat reluctantly reviewed the events of the previous evening, and as he thought it all over he regretted most heartily that curiosity and a desire to delve into the private doings of others had led him to become a member of that card party. For the first time he fully realized that the person who attempts to pry into the affairs of others without authority or a sufficiently good reason almost invariably brings upon himself no end of trouble and is sure in time to be regarded as a spy, a meddler and a nuisance. His eyes were opened at last to the real reason for the aversion with which his former friends and chums had seemed to regard him of late.

“This being a detective isn’t half as fine as it seems in stories,” he muttered; “and, anyhow, I don’t believe I was ever cut out for one. I’ve made a mistake. I’m too sensitive, too conscientious. My feelings are too easily stirred for me ever to make a success in that line. I’m going to quit it. Perhaps I can write stories, and I’m sure I’d like that better. They say an experienced crook often makes the most efficient detective, and I despise crooks. I’m done with the game.”

That final word, although he had been thinking of something else, again brought vividly to his mental view a picture of the green-covered table bearing chips and cards and the young players sitting around it engaged in what they chose to call “a little friendly game.” A few short hours before this had seemed to him all very fine and sporty, and it had attracted him as the magnet attracts the steel. Now, in the somber light of a dull spring Sabbath morning, the glamour was swept away, leaving only a bitter after-taste that was remorse.

They had said that they were playing penny poker with a ten-cent limit simply to make the game interesting; but as he recalled their intentness upon the run of the play, the ill-concealed bitterness with which some of them accepted defeat, and their greedy, eager joy in winning, the truth smote him hard and convincingly. They had been gambling! The reason why they chose to play so small a game lay in the limited condition of their finances. Had they all possessed more money, penny-ante with a dime limit would have seemed tame and unsatisfactory, and therefore games of this sort were but the first steps to something bigger and worse.

“Ned Osgood started it here in this town,” thought Piper. “He’s naturally a fine fellow, and he doesn’t realize what he’s doing. I was not the only one who couldn’t afford to play, putting aside the question of its being real gambling. In that whole bunch Osgood was the only one who really could afford it, and he was a winner.”

At that time Sleuth did not know that in ninety-nine genuine gambling games out of a hundred the majority of the players cannot, from financial reasons alone, afford to participate. If not openly, they take part in such games with the secret hope that they will come forth winners, and one of the bad features of it all is the fact that their winnings, when made, seldom do them any real, substantial good; for money easily acquired is rarely rated at its real value and is almost as elusive as quicksilver. The winning gambler regards his gains as “velvet,” forgetting his losses of yesterday and disregarding the assured certainty that he must lose again to-morrow or at some future time. He spends freely and foolishly, making doubly certain the time of deprivation and need which must come in future reverses.

The faint clatter of dishes, coming up from the dining-room, roused Sleuth from his unpleasant reveries, and, with a strange feeling of lassitude and weariness in his limbs, he dragged himself out of bed. The night had exacted its penalty in physical enervation as well as mental torment.

“No more,” he kept repeating – “no more of it for me.”

Breakfast over, he was drawn by an intense desire, not unmingled with dread, to learn something of Roy Hooker’s condition. Not a word had Roy spoken after that blow, and Piper was haunted by the memory of the dazed, uncomprehending look in the boy’s eyes.

“He’s probably all right now,” Sleuth told himself; but he could not dismiss the fear that Roy might not be all right.

Thus worried, he found an early opportunity of getting away from the house, his footsteps leading him toward Hooker’s home. The streets of the village bore the deserted appearance usual upon Sunday morning, but to him they seemed ominously silent and lonely. The early church bells began to ring, but the sound was hateful, for it seemed to add to that oppressive loneliness.

On the corner of Main and Middle streets, a block from where Hooker lived, he met Phil Springer, and a single glance told him that here was a companion in misery. For Springer also appeared downcast and troubled, and there was in his eyes an expression that told of sleep denied.

“Huh-hello, Sleuthy,” faltered Phil. “What bub-brings you out so early?”

“Same thing that brought you out, I guess. Heard anything from Roy?”

“Not a word. You?”

“No; just came from home.”

“You took your chance to skin out and leave him on our hands, dud-didn’t you?” said Phil resentfully. “Cooper just mum-made me stick by till we got him home.”

“That was a mean trick of mine,” admitted Piper instantly. “I’m sorry I did it, but I was nervous and excited, and I didn’t stop to think. How was he? How did he appear? Did he talk any?”

“Not a word. Couldn’t seem to gug-get any sense into him. Why, Pipe, he actually acted as if he didn’t know wh-where he lived. What do you think of that?”

“I don’t know what to think of it. I don’t like to think of it. What did you do? How did you get him into the house?”

“We took him to the door; it was locked. I pounded until we saw a light through the glass and heard some one coming. Then, like the two cheap sus-sus-skates we were, we up and dusted – ran away.” Springer was not inclined to spare himself.

Suddenly Sleuth made a grab at his companion’s arm. “Look! Here comes Dr. Grindle now! I’ll bet he’s been to see Roy! Let’s ask him.”

“Yu-yu-you ask,” gurgled Phil, getting pale around the mouth. “It would tut-tut-take me tut-tut-too long.”

Medicine-case in hand, the doctor approached, and, assuming as far as possible a natural air, Piper bade him good morning and inquired if there was some one ill “over that way.”

“Singular case,” said the physician, pausing a moment and regarding the two boys keenly. “It’s Roy Hooker. He came home rather late last night and seemed to be dazed and stunned. There’s a bruise on his cheek and another bad one upon the back of his head. His folks got him to bed, thinking he’d be all right, although his mother was frightened and worried. This morning when they tried to question him he wouldn’t talk. Then they ’phoned for me.”

“Roy Hooker?” exclaimed Piper, making a pretense of astonishment, which, however, gave him a throb of self-scorn. “Why, what do you suppose happened to him, doctor?”

“He may have been in a fight, or perhaps he was hurt some other way. I don’t know, but I feel sure one or more persons, probably his intimate friends or companions, must know. Unless he recovers soon and settles it himself, they will be called on to come forward and speak up.”

Springer found it impossible to keep still. “Cuc-couldn’t he say anything at all, doctor?”

“Just two words were all I’ve been able to draw from him, and they seem to cast no light whatever upon the matter. I decided it was not best to try to press him further in his present condition.”

“Two words!” muttered Phil.

“Yes, if I understood correctly, he said, ‘two spades.’ Now what connection with his condition two spades can have I don’t understand, unless one of those bruises upon his head may have been inflicted by such an implement. The bruise on his cheek, I’m sure, was not made in such a manner; and, considering the fact that the one on the back of his head is low down toward the base of the skull, I’m wholly disinclined to believe it was inflicted by anything resembling a spade. Are you boys particular friends of Roy?”

“Oh, not – not particular friends; at least, I’m not,” Sleuth hastened to reply. “For some reason, he hasn’t seemed to like me very well.”

“Then you can’t throw any light on this odd affair? You weren’t with him last evening?”

“I saw him at the pup-post-office a-bub-bout half past seven,” faltered Phil huskily.

“And you didn’t see him after that?”

“I don’t – remember. I don’t th-think so.”

“How about you, Billy? Did you see him later in the evening?”

“I wasn’t at the post-office,” said Piper, finding it impossible to meet the doctor’s steady eyes. “I didn’t see Hooker there.”

“Nor anywhere else?” persisted the physician.

“Nor – anywhere – else.”

“Well, he must have been with some one nearly three hours later, and we’ll find out who it was when he gets able to talk, if not sooner.” The doctor glanced at his watch. “If you hear anything, let me know.”

When Dr. Grindle was gone Piper and Springer stood there, looking anywhere but at each other. Presently, however, their eyes met, and then, with the bitterest self-contempt, Billy muttered:

“Two miserable liars, that’s what we are!”

CHAPTER XI – PIPER SURPRISES HIS FRIENDS

Utterly miserable and ashamed, even feeling themselves abased, the two boys again remained silent for some moments following Piper’s self-denunciatory words.

“We juj-just had to do it,” Springer finally faltered in an effort at self-justification.

“We didn’t have to,” returned Billy sharply; “but we didn’t have the courage to do anything different. We might have told the truth.”

“And bub-been branded as two black sheep by every sus-stiff-necked, straightlaced – ”

“Of course; but that would have been no more than what’s due us for our part in that affair last night.”

“I fuf-fuf-fail to see it,” snapped Springer in sudden anger. “We weren’t to blame for what happened. We were only juj-just playing a little quiet, friendly game of poker, and – ”

“We were just gambling, nothing different. You know it, Phil. I’ve thought the whole thing over, and this fiction about a little friendly game was shown to me in its true light. Now wait; don’t get excited. I was tickled almost sick when I blundered into that game last night. I thought it was simply great. I felt that I was doing something real sporty, and it seemed a corking fine thing to sit down with a bunch like that and play cards for money. It wasn’t what I lost that opened my eyes, I tell you that right now. If I’d simply lost my money, I suppose I’d been grouchy over it to myself, but, nothing worse happening, I’d been ready enough to get into the next game, with the hope of winning it back. That’s the way it goes; when a fellow loses he’s bound to play again to get even; if he wins, he can’t quit should he want to, because the other fellows would sneer at him and call him nasty names. So when you’re once started gambling for money, you’ve got to keep it up. Friendly game! Is it friendliness, trying to get the loose cash of another fellow who needs it as much as you do, and perhaps more?”

“I won’t argue a-bub-bout that. Perhaps you’re right, but the point doesn’t interest me now, with Roy Hooker in his pup-present condition. I didn’t like the way the doctor looked at us. Do you thu-think he suspects us, Pipe?”

“Wouldn’t wonder a bit,” answered Sleuth. “But then, it would be natural for him to be suspicious of any fellow who is friendly with Roy.”

“What are we going to do?”

“I dunno. Let’s not stand here any longer; let’s walk up the street. I’ve got to move; I can’t keep still.”

They were on the point of moving when they saw Chipper Cooper hurrying toward them almost at a run.

“Wait!” called the approaching boy. “Where you fellows going?” And then, as he joined them, he asked in a low tone, “Heard anything this morning?”

“I should say we had,” answered Billy. After which he hastily told Cooper what they had learned from Dr. Grindle.

“Oh, my Jinks!” muttered Chipper, aghast. “I was hoping Roy’d be all right this morning. I was hoping he’d explain to his folks – tell them he had a fall or something to account for the bumps he got.”

“You were hoping he’d lie,” said Billy, with a short, bitter laugh. “We had to lie to the doctor when he cornered us. You can see what the business forces us into – lies! It makes me sick to think of it.”

“I’ve worried all night,” sighed Cooper dolefully. “Kept waking up every ten minutes, it seemed, thinking about that scrap and Roy. What was it the doctor said that he said?”

“Just two words, ‘two spades.’ Of course he meant the two aces of spades in that crooked pack.”

“That seems to indicate that he’s coming round, don’t it? He remembered something.”

“And when he cuc-comes round,” said Springer, “he’ll be liable to tell the whole business.”

They were walking up the street toward the Methodist Church, the bell of which had ceased to sound the first call from the steeple. In less than an hour the church-goers would be hurrying along that street. As they approached the church the sexton, who lived across the way a short distance beyond, came out and hobbled toward home, leaning on his cane.

“Where will we go?” asked Springer. “Hadn’t we bub-better take a walk outside the village?”

“I’m not going far,” said Piper. “I mean to hang around so that I won’t miss any news about Roy. It will be half an hour now before people begin to come to church. Let’s go into the old sheds out behind it.”

In one of those sheds at the rear of the church they were hidden from the view of any one who might pass upon the street.

“Wish I hadn’t ever got to playing in that game,” confessed Chipper, who on this morning showed no signs of his usual light-hearted ways and flippancy in conversation.

“I reckon we all feel the same about that,” said Piper; “but it’s no use to cry. We shouldn’t be thinking so much of ourselves. What if Roy is permanently hurt? What if he never comes round right?”

“Shu-Shultz will be to blame for that.”

“Principally; but it wouldn’t have happened if Shultz and Osgood hadn’t found fellows enough to make up a game, so you see, in a way, we’re to blame, too.”

“But if Roy does come round all right and tells everything, we’re all in the soup,” groaned Cooper. “Oh, I’ll catch it at home! My father will be furious if he finds out that I ever played cards for money. You know we’re not rich – far from it.”

“There are others,” reminded Piper sharply. “But when it comes out, if it does, Charley Shultz will have to shoulder the most of the blame.”

“He dud-don’t live in Oakdale. He can get out any tut-time he wants to.”

“Shultz won’t tell,” said Cooper. “Nobody will tell, unless it’s Roy. If somebody could get to see him and talk with him privately – ”

“I’ve thought of that,” cut in Piper. “If he comes round, he may talk before he realizes what it will mean to the rest of us. Now if somebody could see him and make him remember things, he might be warned to keep mum. Who’s going to try it?”

“Why dud-don’t you?” suggested Springer.

“Why don’t you?” flung back Billy. “I’ve never been real chummy with Roy.”

“I’d mum-make a mess of it,” said Phil, the idea causing him to shrink.

“Somebody has got to do it,” declared Piper, “and there shouldn’t be much time wasted. The fact that Roy spoke to the doctor shows he’s coming out of his daze. He’s liable to remember everything all at once. Perhaps the sight of one of us would make him remember. Besides Osgood and Shultz, of course we’re the only ones in the game who can go to him, and those fellows couldn’t do it without rousing suspicion. It’s up to us. Who’s going?”

No one volunteered, and after a time Springer feebly suggested that they should draw lots. They were about to do so, when of a sudden Piper commanded all his resolution.

“I’ll go,” he announced. “We won’t draw; that would be gambling, in a way, and I’m done with anything of the sort. I’ll go.”

They looked at him in wonderment, vaguely realizing that this prying chap, who had succeeded in making himself rather unpopular at school, was the possessor of a certain determination and resolution with which he had never been credited.

“That’s the stuff, Sleuthy,” applauded Chipper. “Good old Sleuthy!”

“Now cut that name out,” requested Piper in a manner that was more like a command. “I’m done with that, too. I’ve been rather proud to have fellows call me Sleuth, but it makes me sick now, and I’m liable to fight any one who chucks it at me in future. If you want to do me a favor, you’ll tell the fellows so. Perhaps it will make them worse; perhaps they’ll think it fun to keep that nickname stuck on to me. But there’ll be fights – I tell you there’ll be fights!”

“Gee!” breathed Springer, staring at the speaker’s flushed face. “You’re a regular bub-bantam, Pipe. Well, if you dud-don’t like it, I’ll never call you that again.”

“Me, too; witness my solemn pledge,” said Cooper, lifting his left hand and jerking it down to put up his right. “Phil and I owe you that much for what you’ve offered to do just now.”

“Perhaps I won’t get in to see Roy,” said Billy; “but I’m going to ask the privilege. Even if I do get in, maybe I won’t have a chance to talk with him without anybody round.”

“Report as soon as you can,” urged Chipper.

“Do,” begged Phil. “We’ll go up to my house, Cooper and I; you’ll find us there.”

They left the sheds, and Piper set forth along High Street toward Willow, on which Hooker lived. He had not reached Willow when he met Jack Nelson.

“What are you doing, Sleuth?” asked Jack “You were striding off like a man with a mission. Is the great detective on the trail this – ”

“Now that will be enough, Nelson, old man – that will be enough,” interrupted Piper. “I’ve just given certain parties notice that this detective gag is played out and I’m done with it. Also, my friends aren’t to call me Sleuth any more if they wish to remain friends. Grin – grin if you want to. I mean it. I’ll prob’ly be carrying around black eyes and body contusions for a while, but as soon as it becomes generally known in this town that I don’t want to be called Sleuth and I won’t stand any more for the detective joke, I’m going to begin punching anybody who disregards the warning.”

“Well, I’ll be blowed!” breathed Nelson. “I thought you were proud of it. Only last night you offered to do a little piece of detective work for me. What did you find out?”

“Nothing,” was the instant answer – “nothing that concerns you in any way.”

“And you’re disgusted over your failure, eh? I didn’t suppose you’d get down-hearted so easy. No great detective ever – ” But the look on Billy’s face caused Jack to stop short. “Oh, say!” he exclaimed; “have you heard about Hooker? I was just told that he – ”

“I’ve heard about it,” said Piper, preparing to pass on. “I’m going to see him now, if they’ll let me. Dr. Grindle told Springer and me all about it.”

“It’s queer,” said Nelson. “Aren’t you quitting your professional career at a moment when there’s a case that would really justify your investigation? Perhaps that’s why you’re going to see him. Perhaps you mean to – ”

“No, that’s not the reason. Guess I’ll skip along.”

“If you find out anything, let a fellow know,” Nelson called after him.

“If you only knew what I know now!” muttered Piper, as he turned down Willow Street.