CHAPTER XVIII
DICK PRESCOTT, KNIGHT ERRANT
That day of enforced tie-up was followed by three days of hardhiking. The Gridley High School boys showed the fine effectsof their two vigorous, strenuous outings. Each had taken on weightslightly, though there was no superfluous flesh on any of thesix. They were bronzed, comparatively lean-looking, trim andhard. Their muscles were at the finest degree of excellence.
"We set out to get ourselves as hard as nails," remarked Dave,as the boys bathed in a secluded bit of woodland through whicha creek flowed. It was, the morning of their fourth day of renewedhiking. After the swim and breakfast that was to follow, therewere twenty miles of rural roads to be covered before the eveningcamp was pitched.
"I guess we've won all we set out to get, haven't we?" inquiredReade, squaring his broad shoulders with an air of pride. "Ifeel equal to anything that a fellow of my size and years coulddo."
"I think, without boasting, we may consider ourselves the sixmost valuable candidates for Gridley High School football thisyear," Prescott declared. "We ought to be the best men for theteam; we've worked hard to get ourselves in the pink of physicalcondition."
"I wouldn't care to be any stronger than I am," laughed DannyGrin. "If I were any stronger folks would be saying that I oughtto go to work."
"You will have to go to work within another year," Dick laughed,"whatever that work may be. But you must work with your brain,Danny boy, if you're to get any real place in life. Your musclesare intended only as a sign that your body is going to be equalto all the demands that your brain may make on that body."
"If my mental ability were equal to my physical strength I wouldn'thave to work at all," grinned Dalzell.
Splash! His dive carried him under the surface of the water.Presently he came up, blowing, then swimming with strong strokes.
"Danny boy seems to have the same idea so many people have," laughedPrescott. "They think that a man who does all his real work withhis brain isn't working at all, just because he doesn't get intoa perspiration and wilt his collar."
Splash! splash! Reade and Darrin were in the water racing upstream.
"I don't know when I've ever found so much happiness in a summer,"asserted Greg, as he poised himself for a dive into the water.
"I wonder if Timmy Hinman ever had the nerve to stick to his father'swagon long enough to get it back to Fenton," said Dave, as heswam beside Reade.
"If he ever took that wagon home, I'll wager that he drove thelast few miles late at night, so that his 'society' friends wouldn'thave the shock of seeing him drive the peddling outfit that sustainshim," Reade replied.
"I'll never forget the younger Hinman's disgusted look when hetried to drive the outfit from our camp, the other morning, withhis saddle mount tied behind and balking on the halter," grinnedDarry.
"I wonder why such fellows as Timothy Hinman were ever created,"Tom went on. "Every time I think about the gentlemanly TimmyI feel as though I wanted to kick something."
Only the day before, stopping at a postoffice on the route, ashad been arranged with Dr. Hewitt, Dick & Co. had received wordthat the peddler was seriously ill with pneumonia, with all thechances against his recovery.
"If the peddler should die," suggested Dave soberly, "do you believethat Timmy Hinman will be able to face the thought of going towork for a living?"
"It would be an awful fate," Tom declared grimly. "Timmy mighttry to work, but I don't know whether he would be able to livethrough the shock and shame of having to earn the money for payinghis own bills in life."
"There's that irrepressible Dick again!" called Greg five minuteslater.
"What's he up to now?" asked Tom, from further up the creek.
"He has had his rub-down, got his clothing on and is now at workfrying bacon and eggs."
"Then don't disturb him," begged Reade, "or he might fry shortof the quantity of food that is really going to be required."
Five minutes more, however, saw the last of the boys out of waterand rapidly getting themselves in shape to perform their own requiredduties. There could be no idlers in the party when Dick & Co.were away from home on a hike.
Yet, once breakfast had been disposed of, and the dishes washed,there seemed something in the August air that made them all disinclinedto break camp and move on.
"I wish we could stay here all day, and move on to-morrow," murmuredHazy, thus voicing the thought of some of the others.
"And then blame the tramps for loafing!" exclaimed Dick.
"Do we look as though we had loafed this summer?" challenged Dalzell.
"No; but one or two of you would have done a good deal of it ifyou hadn't been afraid of the contempt of the others," smiledPrescott.
"Honestly, now," demanded Hazy, "wouldn't you enjoy just stayinghere and lounging today, Dick Prescott?"
"I would," Dick assented.
"There, now!"
"But that isn't what we left home to do, so we won't do it."
"Eh?" queried Hazy.
"Attention, Lazybones Squad!" called Prescott, springing up."Hazy, harness the horse and hitch him to the wagon. Tom, Daveand Greg, take down the tent. I'll pack the bedding. Dan, loadthe kitchen stuff on the wagon."
This occupied a few minutes.
"Now, all hands turn to and load on the floor planks, beddingand the tent," called Dick.
This, too, was quickly accomplished, though all six were now perspiring.
"Greg, I believe it's your turn to drive first to-day," Prescottannounced. "Up with you! Forward---march!"
Dick led the way out of camp, at a brisk four-mile-an-hour stride.The long hike was started, at last. After that there was nogrumbling, even during the hourly halt of ten minutes.
The noon halt found them with eleven and a half miles coveredout of the twenty. Five o'clock brought Dick & Co. to the outskirtsof Fenton, a town of some twenty-five hundred inhabitants.
"Whoa!" called Tom, reining up half a mile from the town. "Thereare woods here, Dick. If we go any closer to Fenton, we'll eitherhave to keep on traveling to the other side of the town, or askthe authorities for permission to camp on the common. Don't youbelieve we had better stop here?"
"These are the woods that Dave and I had just picked out," Prescottreplied. "We were going to keep on traveling until we found outwho owns the woods. This isn't quite in the wilderness, Tom,and we must begin again to seek permission to make our camp fromowners of property."
"If these are the woods," grunted Tom, "there can be no use ingoing farther. You and Dave trot on ahead, and bring us backword."
"All right," sang out the young leader, "but don't drive ontothe ground, or unpack, until we are back with word about the owner'spermission."
Three minutes of walking brought them to a farmhouse that lookedlike the abode of prosperous people.
"Well, what is it?" demanded a stout man, with a good-humoredface, as he stepped out from a barn.
"We wish to know, sir," Dick explained, "if you can tell us whoowns the woods about a quarter of a mile back, at the right handside of the road?"
"I think I can," nodded the man. "Will you describe the woodsa little more particularly?"
As Prescott complied the farmer broke in:
"Those are my woods, all right. What do you want of them?"
Dick explained the desire of himself and his friends to camp therefor the night.
"Who are you boys?" asked the farmer, keenly eyeing Dick and Dave.
"Gridley High School boys, out on a vacation jaunt."
"You won't do any damage to my woods, will you?"
"Certainly not, sir," Dick promised.
"Then go right ahead and pitch your camp, young man. Enjoyyourselves."
"We shall have to gather and use quite a bit of firewood, sir,"Prescott continued.
"Well, there's considerable dead wood lying about there."
"May we pay you a proper price for the use of the firewood, sir?"Prescott went on
.
"If you try to," laughed the farmer, "I'll chase you out of thewoods. Make yourselves at home, boys. Have as good a time asyou can."
"Thank you, sir."
"And---have you had any fresh milk lately?"
"Not a lot of it, sir."
"Would you like some?"
"Why, if we may pay-----"
"You may pay me," promptly agreed the farmer, "by bringing thepail back when you pass this way in the morning."
With that remark he went into another building, soon coming outwith an eight-quart pail filled with milk.
"This sort of stuff isn't much good, except when you haven't hadany for a long time," laughed the farmer. "Enjoy yourselves.Say, you don't play football with the Gridley High School eleven,do you?"
"All of us do," Dick admitted.
"Thought so," chuckled the farmer. "That's why I was interestedin you. I saw the Thanksgiving game at Gridley last year. Greatgame nervy lot of boys, with all their sand about them. Therewas one fellow in particular, I remember, who broke doctor's ordersand jumped into the game at the last minute. He saved the gamefor Gridley, I heard. I'd like to shake hands with him."
"Then here's your chance, sir," laughed Dave, shoving Dick forward."Mr. Dick Prescott, Gridley High School."
"My name's Dobbins," smiled the farmer, extending his hand. "Gladto meet you, Prescott. I thought it was you all the time. Mebbethe young man with you is Darrin."
"Yes," laughed Dick, and there was more handshaking.
"I hope I'll see the rest of your friends when you pass in themorning," said the farmer cordially.
"Hiram---supper!" called a shrill voice from The doorway.
"Coming, mother! Boys, it does one good to meet the right sortof fellows once in a while. Enjoy the woods in your own way,won't you?"
"That man is right. As he says, it does one good to meet theright sort of fellow once in a while---and he's the right sort,"declared Darry fervently, as the chums trudged back to their outfit.
Camp was pitched, and supper was soon under way. When it wasall over, and everything cleaned up, Dick looked about him athis friends.
"I wonder if any of you fellows feel the way I do to-night?" heasked. "We still have our white clothes, and Fenton is somethingof a town. We've been in the woods for so long that I feel justlike dressing up in white and taking a stroll into town."
Tom, Dan and Dave voted in the affirmative. Greg and Hazy averredthat they had walked enough for one day. So the four boys donnedwhite, while the other two remained behind in flannel and khaki.
Dick and the three companions of his stroll when almost in Fenton,were passing through a street of pretty little cottages when atiny figure, clad in white ran out of the darkness, bumping intoDick's knees.
"Hello, little one!" cried Prescott, cheerily, picking up a weelittle girl of four and holding her at arm's length. "Hello,you're crying. What's the matter? Lost mother?"
"No; lost papa," wailed the little one.
"Perhaps we can find him for you," offered Tom, readily.
"Mollie! Mollie, where are you?" came a woman's voice out ofthe darkness.
"Is this your little girl, madam?" called Prescott. "We'll bringher to you."
In another moment the woman, young and pretty, also dressed inwhite, had reached the child and was holding her by the hand.
"Oh, you little runaway!" chided Dave, smilingly, as he bent over,wagging a finger at the child.
"No; it's papa that runned away," gasped the little one, in afrightened voice. "He ran away to a saloon."
"Oh, said Dave, straightening up and feeling embarrassed as hecaught the humiliated look in the young woman's face.
"Pa---runned away and made mama cry," the little one babbled on,half sobbing. "I must go after him and bring him home."
"Be quiet, Mollie," commanded her mother.
"Papa comes, if he knows you want him," insisted the child. "Itell him you want him---that you cry because he went to saloon."
For an instant the mother caught her breath. Then she began tocry bitterly. Dick and his friends wished themselves almost anywhereelse.
"It's too bad when the children get old enough to realize it,"said the woman, brokenly. Then, of a sudden, she eyed Dick andhis chums bravely.
"Boys," she said, "I hope the time will never come when you'llfeel that it's manly to go out with the crowd and spend the eveningin drinking."
"The way we feel about it now," spoke Dick, sympathetically, "we'drather be dead than facing any degradation of the sort."
They were only boys, and they were strangers to the woman. Moreover,little Mollie was looking pleadingly towards Dick, as if loathto let him go. In her misery the young wife poured out her storyto her sympathetic listeners. Her husband had been a fine youngfellow---was still young. His drinking had begun only three monthsbefore.
"We have our own home, more than half paid for," added the woman,pointing to a pretty little cottage. "Tom has always been a goodworkman, never out of a job. But lately he has been spendinghis wages for drink. Last month we didn't make our payment onthe house. Today he got his month's pay, and promised not todrink any more. He was going to take us into town to-night fora good time, and we were happy, weren't we, baby? Then two ofhis saloon cronies passed the house. Tom went with them, butsaid he would come right back for us. He hasn't come yet, andhe won't come now until midnight. The month's pay will be gone,and that means that the home will be gone, after a little. Boys,I shall never see you again, and it has seemed a help to me totalk to you. Remember, don't ever-----"
"Madam," asked Dick, suddenly, in a husky tone, "do you mind tellingus your husband's name, and the name of the place where he hasgone?"
"His name is Tom Drake, and he has gone up to Miller's place,"answered Mrs. Drake. "But why do you ask? What-----"
"Mrs. Drake," Dick continued, earnestly, "we don't want to bemeddlers, and we'll keep out of this, if you request it. Butthe child has given me an inspiration that I could help you.If you authorize me, I'll go to Miller's and see if I can't helpyour husband to know that his happiness is right here, not ina saloon."
"I---I fear that will be a big undertaking," quivered Mrs. Drake.
A big undertaking, indeed, it was bound to be!