CHAPTER IX
SHOWS THEM BOTH HUNGRY AND SATISFIED
It was a very subdued quartet that took the road to Clearwater, thenearest village, although, after they had walked along in silence fora few hundred yards, Dan’s face began to clear and the corners of hismouth stole upward as he glanced at his companions. I don’t thinkthat Barry meant to seem heartless or unsympathetic, but his conductwould have looked, to one unacquainted with his real nature, decidedlycallous. He chased birds and squirrels, tried to climb trees, dug formice, and barked and scampered just as though there was no such thingas misfortune in all the world. And only Dan, I think, understood andsympathized with him.
They walked rapidly and before long reached Clearwater. In spite ofthe fact that the map made it appear to be quite a village, Clearwaterproved to be merely a collection of some half dozen houses surroundingthe junction of two roads. There was neither store nor hotel there.They asked information at the first house they came to. To find anofficer, they were told, it would be necessary to go on to Millford,two miles beyond, although if they liked they could telephonethere. Bob thanked the man and was conducted to the telephone. In afew minutes he had supplied the officers at Millford with all theinformation possible and had described the stolen property. He promisedalso to see the officers when he reached Millford. After that there wasnothing to do but keep on for that town.
“We’ll find a telegraph office there,” said Bob, “and Dan can wire hisfather for some money. Then we’ll go to a hotel, tell them how we’refixed, and get them to trust us until the money comes.”
As no one had a better one to offer, that plan was adopted. But itwas weary work, that last two miles. They were all extremely hungry;indeed, Tom looked so famished that the others almost expected to seehim expire before their eyes. Nelson became temporarily unbalanced, ifDan is to be believed, and muttered incoherent things about roast beefand mashed potatoes. It was three o’clock and after when they at lastwandered into Millford. It was a tiny village, but there were storesthere, a telegraph office, and a hotel. They came to the telegraphoffice first, and so they went in and Dan wrote his telegram.
“Money stolen. Please wire fifty dollars this office. All well. DAN.”
That was the message, and, as Bob couldn’t suggest any improvements,it was handed to the operator. The latter counted the words.
“Twenty-five cents,” he said.
“Send collect, please,” said Dan.
“What’s your address?”
“We haven’t any yet. We’re going to the hotel.”
“Hotel’s closed; closed first of the month.”
Dan looked at Bob, and Bob looked at Dan; and then they looked atNelson and Tom.
“Closed!” muttered Dan finally.
“Is there a boarding house here we can go to?” asked Bob.
“I don’t believe so; never heard of any,” answered the operator.
“Well--you’ll send that message, won’t you?” asked Dan anxiously. Theoperator hesitated.
“It’s against the rules,” he objected. “If you lived here I might.”
“It will be all right,” said Dan. “It’s to my father, and that’s hisaddress there. We’ve lost every cent of our money, and I don’t know howwe’re going to get any more unless that message reaches him.”
“Well--all right. I guess I can send it for you. You guarantee charges,do you?”
“Yes,” said Dan. “And we’ll come around in the morning for the answer.I’m awfully much obliged.”
“Where is the nearest place we could get lodgings and something toeat?” asked Bob.
“I don’t believe there’s a place nearer than Port Adams, and that’sabout four miles from here. There’s a hotel there.”
“Gosh!” muttered Tom.
They thanked the operator again and went out. Then began a search for aboarding place that lasted for half an hour. They heard of one lady whohad a room which she sometimes rented and they went to her posthaste.But the room was taken. At the end of the half hour they had seeminglyexhausted the possibilities of Millford and were still without shelter.
“How about the police folks?” asked Tom.
“I’d forgotten all about them,” answered Bob. “Maybe they’ll let ussleep in the police station.”
But the police station proved to be only a couple of small rooms inthe townhall. They told their story all over again, gave their homeaddresses, and departed with little hope of ever seeing their propertyagain. For it was evident that the officer suspected them of tryingto work a hoax on him, and his promises to look for the robber didn’tsound very enthusiastic. Out on the sidewalk they held a council ofwar. Bob was for keeping on to Port Adams where the hotel was, but noneof the others agreed with him.
“I couldn’t walk four miles farther this afternoon if there was amillion dollars in it,” asserted Dan.
And Nelson and Tom echoed the sentiment.
“Besides,” said Nelson, “maybe if we went there they wouldn’t take usat the hotel, and we wouldn’t be any better off.”
“And we’d have to walk back here in the morning to get the money,”added Tom.
“All right,” said Bob. “What will we do, then?”
But no one offered a suggestion. Instead they stood and stareddejectedly across the street. Even Barry appeared to have lost spirit;there was a weary air in the way he held his stump of a tail. On theother side of the street a fence was placarded with highly coloredcircus posters. “Millford, Sept. 9,” was the legend they bore. That wasto-morrow.
“If we get that money,” said Nelson, “let’s stay and see the circus.”
“Never mind about the circus,” said Bob irritably. “What we’ve got todo is to find some place to sleep.”
“And something to eat,” added Tom sadly.
“Let’s sleep outdoors,” said Dan. “It’s going to be fairly warmto-night, I guess.”
“But how about food?” asked Bob.
“Let’s go to a house and ask them to feed us,” suggested Tom. “Tellthem we’ll pay in the morning.”
“No, sir,” answered Bob. “That’s begging, and I won’t beg.”
“Nor I,” said Nelson.
“It isn’t begging if you pay for it,” said Tom indignantly.
“Well, it sounds a whole lot like it. I’d rather go without eating.”
“We might draw lots,” said Dan, “and eat one of us.”
“Wish I was home,” muttered Tom.
He thrust his hands deep into his trousers pockets and stareddisconsolately across at the circus posters. Then suddenly his facelighted, he uttered a gurgle, and yanked his left hand out of hispocket.
“_Lu-lu-lu-look!_” he sputtered.
They looked. There in Tom’s palm lay a shining half dollar.
“Where’d you get it?” they cried.
“Lu-lu-left pocket. I pu-pu-pu-put it there du-du-day beforeyu-yu-yu-yesterday and forgot all abub-ub-ub--all about it!”
The others searched their own pockets frantically, but were not solucky.
“Say, that’s great!” cried Nelson.
“You bet!” said Dan. “Are you--are you sure it’s good?”
“Course it’s good!” said Tom.
“Gee! Doesn’t half a dollar look big when you’re starving?” said Dansoftly. It was passed around from one to another, all examining it asthough it were a quite unusual object. Bob sighed as it left his hand.
“It certainly looks good to me,” he muttered.
“Now, what’ll we do with it?” asked Tom. “I don’t suppose anyone willgive us four suppers for half a dollar.”
“We might get two for that price,” suggested Dan. “Two of us could getsupper and bring something out to the others.”
“Well, don’t let Tom go,” laughed Nelson.
“If only there was some sort of a restaurant in this idiotic place!”sighed Bob.
“I tell you!” cried Dan. “We’ll go to a store and buy some g
rub, pitcha camp, and cook it ourselves! We can get a lot for fifty cents!”
“Good scheme!” said Bob.
“Fine!” said Nelson.
“Swell!” agreed Tom. “Come on!”
They sought the main street and the stores. At a market they purchaseda pound of round steak for twenty-five cents, and, in response to Dan’shints, the man threw in a good-sized bone for Barry. Farther on theyfound a grocery store and spent five cents for a loaf of bread, sevencents for a quarter of a pound of butter, six cents for a quart ofmilk--the groceryman good-naturedly supplying a bottle for it--and fivecents for half a dozen cookies. Thus armed they sought a place to pitchtheir camp. Five minutes of walking took them out of the village, andthey soon espied a knoll which promised a suitable spot. They crossed afield, climbed the knoll, and found an ideal location on the westernside of it. The trees were sparse, but, there was enough undergrowthhere and there to serve as wind-break during the night. The four wereonce more themselves and in the highest spirits. Bob took command, andunder his direction the others were set to finding fuel, whittlingsticks for forks, and building the fireplace. By five o’clock theflames were sending a column of purple smoke up into the still eveningair, and the slice of steak, cut into four portions, was sizzling overthe fire on as many pointed sticks. And Barry was busy with his bone.In short, life was worth living again.
Now, if you have never spent the day out of doors and supped at nightin the open with the wood smoke floating about you, you can have novery definite idea of how good that meal tasted to the Four. The steakwas done to a turn, brown and crisp outside, burned a little aboutthe edges as every camper’s steak should be, and inside slightly pinkand so full of juice that a napkin, had one happened along, wouldhave done a land-office business! And then the bread! Well, I supposeit was just an ordinary loaf, but--it didn’t taste so! There was abeautiful golden-brown crust all over the outside that broke with abrittle and appetizing sound. And under the crust was the whitest,softest, freshest, sweetest bread that ever made the thought of buttera sacrilege. I don’t mean by that that the butter wasn’t used; it was,lavishly as long as it lasted; after it was gone it was never missed.The cookies, too, and the milk, ridiculously rich milk it was, weresimply marvelous. Really, it was astonishing how much better LongIsland food was than any other! And Barry, flat on the ground, bothpaws on the big bone and teeth busy, grunted accordantly.
Before them as they sat in a semicircle about the little fire thehill sloped down to a broad pasture, here and there overgrown withbushes and dotted at intervals with low trees. Beyond the pasture wasa swamp closed in on its farther side by a line of woods looking darkagainst the saffron evening sky. To their right, perhaps a quarter ofa mile distant, was a farmhouse and buildings, and from the house athin filament of blue smoke arose. Now and then a voice reached them;sometimes a dog barked afar off and Barry lifted his head and listened;once the _chug-chug_ of an automobile, speeding along the road behindthem, disturbed the silence.
Conversation was fitful at the best during that meal, for it must beremembered that they had had no lunch and had done a day’s march.And after the last morsel had disappeared no one complained ofbeing uncomfortably full. But they had fared well and there were nocomplaints.
“I don’t know,” said Bob, “but what we’d ought to have kept somethingfor the morning.”
“Oh, never mind the morning,” answered Dan. “We’ll have plenty ofmoney then and we’ll breakfast in state.”
They fed the fire to keep it alive for the sake of its cozy glow andthen leaned back on their elbows and talked. Barry abandoned his bonewith a satisfied sigh and curled himself up by Dan’s side. Presentlythe sunlight faded and a crescent moon glowed brightly behind theknoll. The chill of evening began to make itself felt, and now theybuilt up the fire for more practical purposes and edged themselvesnearer. Before it got quite dark they busied themselves preparing forthe night. They cut evergreen branches and piled them high in the leeof a clump of bushes. The packs were opened and each fellow donned asmuch of the extra clothing as was possible, the ponchos serving asblankets. Toward half-past eight they settled themselves for the night,burrowing deep into the fragrant branches and lying as close togetheras was compatible with comfort. The little fire danced and gleamed, thecrickets sang loudly from all sides, and the slender silver moon sailedoverhead in a purple sky.
Then Tom fell off to sleep, and the crickets’ song was quickly drowned.