Roy Blakeley: Lost, Strayed or Stolen

  He said, "I'm going to leave everything to you, Roy, because we'vealways been on the square with each other." That's just what he said.Then he said, "Only I want you to remember that you must tell the fulltruth to Judge Van Wort." He said, "You will be under oath. You musttell all you know. To try to protect the guilty is a crime. You knowthat, don't you?"

  Gee whiz, I wondered how much he knew about Charlie Slausen. Everybodyin town seemed to have it in for him.

  Then my father said, "You and Westy will clear yourselves, of course.I'm not worrying about that. But I want you to stand up bravely and telleverything you know. I don't want you to be nervous. I'll be there. Icouldn't go to the city till this thing is settled."

  "It'll be settled all right," I told him.

  He said, "Remember, you must tell _the truth, the whole truth, andnothing but the truth_."

  I said, "Believe me, they'll get the biggest dose of the truth they everhad."

  Then he said he was going to bed and that he wasn't going to worry aboutit at all, and he wasn't going to think about it, because I was a scoutand maybe I knew what was best, and anyway he knew I'd tell the truth,so he should worry about that.

  But just the same he stayed downstairs there in the dark for a couple ofhours. Because a long time after, I could hear him winding the biggrandfather's clock down in the hall. Then I could hear his footsteps onthe stairs. He came up awful slow like.

  CHAPTER XXVII--ON OUR WAY

  If all the lessons in algebra were like that hearing, or whatever youcall it, I'd be satisfied, because there wasn't any. That was the daythat Westy and I got sentenced to three hundred dollars' reward. So ifyou were looking forward to seeing us get sent to prison for four orfive years, you get left. I bet you're sorry.

  Anyway I'll tell you about it. Good and early Westy and I went down tothe submarine to get the inventor. He was the one that invented sleepall right, that kid. He was sprawled all over the floor under one of theseats, dead to the wicked world.

  Westy said, "He's sleeping even sounder than when we left him lastnight."

  "Why shouldn't he?" I said. "Look at the practice he's had all night.Look where his feet are; all over the plush seat of our slightly usedtwin six Packard touring car."

  Westy said, "You mean slightly abused. What shall we do? Wake him up?Get hold of his neck, will you, and haul him out?"

  We hauled him out but it didn't do any good.

  "Roll him up the aisle," I said.

  We tried that and it didn't do any good.

  "You get hold of his legs," Westy said, "and I'll get hold of his neckand we'll swing him like a hammock."

  "That only rocks him to sleep more," I said. "There's nothing to do butwait for the next earthquake."

  "That may be a hundred years," Westy said. "Maybe when we move the caracross Willow Place he'll wake up. We'll tell Mr. Jenson to give it agood hard bump."

  "That will be next Saturday," I said. "Maybe if the kid were only awakehe could invent a way to wake himself up."

  "Let's try once more," I said. "Scouts never give up."

  "They never wake up, you mean," Westy said.

  "You don't call this a scout, do you?" I asked him. "If he is he oughtto be in the dormouse patrol. They're always supposed to be asleep."

  "If we get him started once," Westy said, "there'll be an epidemic ofscouting up in the Willisville Home. It's the only kind of an epidemicthey haven't had up there."

  I began poking him and shouting, "Wake up, inventor, Skyhigh Sam iswaiting to shoot you through his new patented million dollar cannon."

  Pretty soon he opened one eye and shut it again. "If he opens it againprop it open," I said. "Pull on his leg, that's right."

  After a while we brought him to, little by little.

  I said, "Did you have a good sleep? Sleepy Hollow hasn't got anything onyou. Get up and eat. Don't you want to go and see Recorder Van Wort?He's the bandit that takes all the money away from automobile speedersthat come here with New York licenses. He lives in a cave in the CourtHouse."

  He said, "Where's my matches?"

  I said, "Never mind, after this we're going to have you carry a gasolinetorch to light you to bed when you sleep in cotton waste. Stand up andpull your belt down from your neck. Here, pull your jacket down, too.Now you look like the Wayhighman of Willisville. If Skyhigh Sam couldsee you now he'd go and invent a moving stairway for the equator justfor spite. Are you hungry?"

  He wasn't exactly hungry, but he drank two cups of coffee and ate threeboiled eggs from Tony's just to show he wasn't mad. Then he was ready togo after the bandits.

  "What would they do if we jumped our patrol?" I asked Westy.

  He said, "You mean parole. I suppose they'd jump after us."

  I said, "I wouldn't jump it. I'd scout pace it if I did anything."

  He said, "The _Bridgeboro Record_ will have the whole thing to-night. Ibet they have me down as Roy Martin and you as Westy Blakeley. That'sthe way they usually do."

  The kid said, "Are we going to see that bandit? Has he got a sword?"

  I said, "You stick to us and maybe you'll grow up to be a nice trainrobber."

  He said, "We'll rob mail cars, hey?"

  "Sure," I said, "and female cars, too. All kinds, take your pick."

  He said, "If we live on that car can I be the captain of it?"

  I said, "You can be the brakeman. That's the man that breaks all thewindows."

  "If Mrs. Carlson, from the Home, comes we'll take her a prisoner, hey?"he said.

  Poor little kid, I felt sorry for him because he didn't seem to think hewas ever going back to the Home, and all the while we knew he'd have to.It made us feel kind of mean.

  I said, "I never started a world war against a Boys' Home, inventor, butnow that we're friends we'll stay friends, you can bet."

  "Maybe I'll give you that box of matches," he said.

  I said, "Thanks. Give me the book, too, and we'll start a bonfire."

  He said, "We'll blow up that Court House."

  I said, "We're more likely to get blown up ourselves when we get thereif we don't hustle."

  It was about quarter to ten and we were on our way to the Court House.It seemed awful funny to be away from school; there weren't any fellowsaround at all. The rest of the scouts in our troop were all in school.

  I said to Westy, "If we don't have to go to the penitentiary, maybewe'll be out in time to go to school this afternoon--out of the fryingpan into the fire."

  "I haven't given up hope of the penitentiary," Westy said.

  "While there's life there's soap," I said. "We'll have to get ourmothers to write us notes to our teachers, saying we had to stay away onaccount of being accused of a crime, and that we'll try not to be latethe next time."

  "What do you mean? The next time we commit a crime?" he wanted to know.

  I said, "The next time I'm out on patrol--I mean parole--I hope it willbe on a Wednesday on account of matinee at the Lyric."

  The inventor said, "I haven't got any mother, so maybe if I have to havea letter maybe one of your mothers will write it, hey?"

  Gee whiz, I just looked at Westy and he just kind of looked at me, butneither one of us said anything.

  "Don't you worry, inventor," I said; "we've got mothers enough to goround; never you mind."

  He said, "Maybe if they don't like me they wouldn't give me a letter,hey? Maybe they won't."

  CHAPTER XXVIII--"FINDINGS, KEEPINGS"

  Now comes the big court scene. It's short, that's one good thing. It wasso quiet you could hear a pin drop. I guess that's why they called it ahearing. No wonder you couldn't hear it, because there wasn't anythingto hear.

  Recorder Van Wort sat behind a desk up on a platform and he washammering with a mallet. He said everybody should keep still.

  I whispered to Westy, "That's a good idea, having that mallet. I thinkI'll get one for our patrol meetings."

  "You'd better get an ax," he said,
under his breath.

  Recorder Van Wort was making a man pay twenty-five dollars for stoppinghis automobile in the wrong place in front of a fire hydrant.

  I whispered to Westy, "That would be a good place for the inventor topark, in front of a fire hydrant."

  Westy kind of giggled and Recorder Van Wort began pounding with hismallet.

  I said, "Keep still; the first thing you know he'll throw it at you."

  That room was full of people and I could see my father sitting with Mr.Martin. I could see Mr. Slausen, too, sitting on the other side of theroom, and Charlie alongside of him. One thing, I was glad Charlie hadn'trun away. But he looked mighty scared and nervous as he sat there. Nowonder, because he knew that as soon as we told about seeing him in thegarage every one would suspect him. I guess he knew no one would believehim if he denied he had been there. I guess he was afraid of what mighthappen after Recorder Van Wort got through with us. We weren't afraid onaccount of ourselves, but I felt awful sorry for that fellow.

  Westy and I and the inventor sat down in the back seat, and it made mefeel as if I had failed in arithmetic. That's what Miss Munson calls apunishment. Gee whiz, in the movies that's the seat I like best. Mr.Ellsworth came over and spoke to us, very serious. He didn't know thekid was with us. I guess he couldn't see him on account of not having atelescope. In the seat the poor little kid looked about as big asBridgeboro on the map of the world.

  Mr. Ellsworth whispered, "Boys, you mustn't be afraid; you mustn't beafraid of the recorder----"

  I said, "Do you think I'm afraid of him just because he's got a mallet?I should worry. I'm sorry I didn't wear my belt-ax."

  He didn't laugh, he just put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Yourfathers and I have trusted you. We know that you're not guilty----"

  "Yes, and you think you know who is," Westy whispered.

  "Sh-h," I said.

  "You boys, you scouts, wouldn't shield a guilty man?" Mr. Ellsworthwhispered.

  I had to laugh when I thought of the inventor as a man.

  Mr. Ellsworth whispered, "You needn't be afraid, just tell the truth.Tell why you were there and who you saw, if anybody, and--and--if itshould appear that that person----"

  Just then he had to stop whispering on account of the judge poundingwith his mallet. Anyway, from what he said I knew that they were tryingto wish that fire on Charlie Slausen, and I knew that poor fellow wouldbe in a dickens of a fix when they began to ask him a lot of questions.Maybe they couldn't send him to jail yet, but, anyway, they could holdhim for the grand jury. Gee, I wouldn't want to be held for that jury, Idon't care how grand it is. One thing, if they found out Charlie was inthere and knew that there were match ends near the cotton waste, thatwould look pretty bad for him, because he knew enough about that placenot to throw match ends into the cotton waste.

  I guess it was about ten minutes before our case was called, becauseJudge Van Wort delivered a lecture and told all about what he was goingto do to people who broke the law. He said he was going to put a stop toa lot of things. I whispered to Westy that he ought to be on the HighSchool nine, he was such a good shortstop.

  Pretty soon, oh, boy, he said something to Jack Morse (he's a cop), andMr. Morse called out:

  "Wesleigh Martin and Roy Blakeley! Step down."

  Gee whiz, then I felt kind of nervous. I knew everybody was looking atus. I could just _feel_ my father looking at me. Recorder Van Wort, hedidn't seem to care; he just started reading some papers.

  "Come ahead," I whispered to the kid; "nobody's going to hurt you." Helooked awful funny and little as he went down front with Westy and me.

  There were a couple of cops down there in front of the desk. Mr.Brownell was down there, too. He's public persecutor, or whatever theycall him. His son's in my class. The recorder just kept on reading thepapers while we all stood there. The kid was good and scared, I guess.

  Pretty soon the recorder laid down the papers and said, "Are you RoyBlakeley?"

  I said, "Yes, sir." Gee, I was trembling a little.

  Then he said, "Are you Wesleigh Martin?"

  Westy said, "Yes, sir."

  Then he looked kind of funny and he said. "And who is this boy?"

  I was kind of nervous, all right, but I spoke up. I said, "This is theone who set fire to Mr. Slausen's repair shop. He didn't do it onpurpose, so----"

  The judge said, "What do you mean?"

  I pulled out of my pocket the big box of matches and the book about Samand his submarine, and I laid them on the judge's desk. All around Icould just kind of _feel_ people staring and moving in their seats.

  I said, "We found traces of him in our car--we found match ends andcigarettes. And we tracked him to Mr. Slausen's shop."

  "So _that's_ what you were doing there, eh?" Mr. Brownell said.

  The judge just said, "Let him tell his story." I said, "We tracked himto the shop and from there we tracked him to the river. We found himasleep in the shack down there. That big box of matches belongs to him,so does the book. He admits he fell asleep in the shop, on the cottonwaste, and he struck a match there----"

  "Do I have to get hung?" the poor little kid cried.

  I said, "He comes from the Willisville Home. He's the kid they've beenoffering three hundred dollars' reward for, but he's worth more thanthat, that's one sure thing----"

  Then everybody began to laugh and the judge started pounding with hismallet. He said, to the kid, "Is all this true?"

  "And I'm going to invent a submarine and get a thousand dollars," thekid piped up. "These boys said I could be their partner."

  Then the judge started to ask him questions, nice and kind sort of, soas not to scare him. And everybody craned their necks and listened. Icould see Charlie Slausen and he was smiling; he smiled right straightat me. I guess he saw the worst was over now, no matter what happened.

  Gee whiz, nobody could say they didn't believe that little fellow. Hedidn't know how to lie, and besides he didn't even seem to know it waswrong what he had done. So that way the judge got out of him the wholestory, how he had bunked under Tony's Lunch Wagon and all. The kid said,"So now can I be a bandit?"

  The judge just said, "Well, here's the cause of the fire, and that's allthere is to it."

  I said, "And if Chief O'Day had started to find out the way we did, he'dhave been the one to discover it instead of us. You have to look forsigns before you look for people. You're supposed to make up your mindwhen you get through and not before you start."

  The judge said, kind of laughing, "But you must remember the chief isn'ta boy scout, so you'll have to forgive him. And you boys will get threehundred dollars, it seems."

  "A lot we care about that," I said. "We want this little fellow to staywith us. Findings is keepings; everybody knows that's the rule. We'vegot a lot of room up at our house. I should worry about three hundreddollars. And we've got a private alarm and fire extinguishers andeverything, so it's all right. And my sister likes kids, too, but shehates caterpillars. Most everything I want----"

  _Good night_, that was as far as I got. All of a sudden, who should Isee but my mother, right there, putting her arms around me, and allthat, and giving the inventor a good hug. She said he should go homewith her and be a bandit--that's just what she said. Gee whiz, I guessthe kid thought a cyclone struck him.

  Mr. Brownell said, "Look out for the matches."

  My mother said, "He shall have an electric light."

  "Will it have a handle to turn it out?" the kid piped up.

  The judge said he didn't know but he would remand (that means _put_) theinventor in the custody of my mother till they heard from the Home. Geewhiz, I never even knew my mother was there until that minute.

  The kid said to my mother, "And I'll take you in my new car down in thefield."

  "Good night," I said to Westy; "the bandit has taken the car."

  Outside a whole lot of people crowded around and wanted to get a look atthe inventor. He was some famous inventor, all right. He was clut
chinghis box of matches in one hand and Submarine Sam in the other, and helooked about as big as a speck. My father was there, and, oh, gee, buthe looked happy. He said, "We'd have a famous inventor and a famousdiscoverer in the house." Maybe he meant my mother, hey?

  There were a lot of ladies around our auto, and gee, but that oldCadillac looked big on account of the inventor looking so little. He satin the middle of the back seat with my mother. Everybody was crazy abouthim. That's the way it is with girls--they're crazy about people whohave had adventures.

  I said to Westy, "The inventor started as a poor boy under Tony's LunchWagon, and now look, he has the world at his feet. They go crazy aboutbandits."

  "Look," Westy whispered to me.

  I was just going to step into the car when I looked where he pointed,and there, standing all by himself, quite a ways off, was CharlieSlausen. He looked as if maybe he was waiting to speak to us, onlydidn't dare to come up where all the people were.

  "Go ahead," I said to our chauffeur; "we'll walk up. You've got a heavyenough load with the inventor."

  After the car had started off we went over to where Charlie wasstanding. He looked awful funny, his eyes kind of, I don't know----

  I said, "Well, what they don't know won't hurt them. We didn't get youin dutch, did we? Didn't I tell you to leave it to us?"