CHAPTER XXI
THE REVENGE TALK AT MILLER'S
"Let's get out of this place," whispered Dick in Dave's ear asDarry helped him to staunch the flow of blood from his nose.
"There, the bleeding has stopped," muttered Dave. "Now, put onyour coat and button it up. Then the blood stains on your shirtwon't show."
Tom Drake had very little to say, but he kept close to Prescott.
"Shall we walk down the road a bit, Mr. Drake?" asked Dick, assoon as he had his coat on.
"I'm in a hurry to get home," nodded the young workman. "I shallknow where I belong, after this. No more of Miller's for me!For that matter," the young man added, with a hearty laugh, "Idon't believe Miller would ever let me in his place again. Ofcourse, in his own mind, he will blame me for what happened to-night."
"I hope he didn't get much of your money before it happened,"murmured Prescott, as be and Drake, followed by Dave, Tom andDan, got clear of the crowd and down into a quieter part of theroad.
"He got less than a dollar of my wages," replied Drake. "I'msorry he has that much, but he'll never get any more. Say, Prescott,but you are a fighter! I can imagine how 'sore' Miller willbe, to-morrow, over having been whipped by such a stripling asyou are."
"I've one great advantage over Miller," Dick rejoined. "I'venever tasted alcohol, and Miller has saturated himself with itfor years."
"I used to have an idea that liquor was strengthening," murmuredTom Drake. "I know quite a good many men who take it to keepup their strength."
"They're fools, then," Dick retorted tersely. "You could see,in Miller to-night, what alcohol does toward making one strong.That man is still powerful, but I'm satisfied that he was oncea great deal stronger. Miller's muscles have grown flabby sincehe began to drink. His speed is less than it must have been formerly.Even his nerve---his grit---has been impaired by the stuff hehas been drinking. Did you notice how early in the fight hiswind left him? The man has very little of his former strength,and the blame belongs to the liquor he has used."
"Here's my gate," said Tom Drake, at last, as they halted beforethe little cottage. "Come in. I've got to tell my wife aboutyou. I wonder where my two girls are?"
Dick and his friends tried to get out of going into the yard,but their new friend would not have it that way, so silently theyfollowed Drake up the path. Then, through a front window, TomDrake saw his girls.
His wife sat at a table, her head resting on her arms. On thefloor sat the toddler, Mollie, still in her white dress. Shehad two broken dolls, pretending to play with them, but the woebegonelook in her little face showed that her thoughts were elsewhere.
Tom Drake choked as he looked in at the window. Then, throwingup his head resolutely, he lifted the latch, entering the roomwith firm tread.
"I'm a bit late, girls, but come on up in the village!" he invited."Here, Hattie, you take charge of this little roll," he added,thrusting his money into his wife's hand.
Not more than three minutes later the three Drakes issued fromthe house, Mollie enjoying a "ride" on her father's shoulder.
"Why, where are the boys?" he demanded. "I left them here."
"Gone, like all good angels, when their work is done," smiledhis wife.
"It's all right, anyway, girls," Tom Drake answered cheerily."We're pretty sure to find 'em up in the village, where we'regoing."
In the first place that the Drakes entered they came upon Dickand his three friends. The Gridley boys, after dodging a crowdthat wanted to lionize young Prescott, had taken refuge, unseen,in the back of an otherwise deserted ice cream saloon.
"There they are!" cried Mollie, running the length of the shop,as fast as her chubby little legs could take her. She ran straightto Dick who bent over to give her a gentle hug.
"I don't know what to say to you young men," cried Mrs. Drake,halting beside the boys, her voice breaking a little, her eyesmoist.
"Then, if you'll permit me to offer a suggestion," Dick smiledback, as he rose, "it seems to me that conversation might spoilseveral good things. Won't you all sit down and be our guestsin a little ice cream feast that we have started?"
It was almost an hour before the little party broke up. A fewinterested citizens, however, found the hiding place of the GridleyHigh School boys and insisted on coming in to shake hands withthe boys.
"Take your family and slip out through the back door," Dick whisperedto Tom Drake.
"I don't know that I'll ever see you again," murmured Drake huskily,"so I want to say-----"
"Don't say anything," Dick smiled back. "You're all right, fromnow on. And we've all learned something to-night. We'll letit rest there. Good-bye, and the best of good luck for you andyours."
So the Drakes escaped from what would have been an embarrassingscene. Nor were Dick and his friends long in getting away fromthe too-enthusiastic citizens.
"It's late enough for us to go back to camp and turn in, isn'tit?" suggested Tom Reade.
"I was thinking of that myself," Dick admitted.
"You must be tired, anyway," Dave hinted. "You whipped Millerall right, but he was a tiring brute, and I'll wager that you'reboth sore and exhausted."
"I'll plead guilty to a little bit of both," Dick Prescott assented,laughing at the recollection of Miller at the time when that brute'ssecond eye was closed.
Yet it was more than half an hour after their return to camp whenslumber finally began to assert its claim upon the Gridley boys.For Greg and Harry, as soon as they had heard a few words asto the evening's adventure, insisted upon hearing all of it beforethey would let Dick turn in.
"I'll bet they're sore in Miller's place tonight," chuckled Greg,just before be extinguished the second lantern.
Certainly anger did reign in Miller's place for the rest of thatevening.
Miller had been brought to consciousness, after considerable effort.He was even able to be up and about his place, but his swollenfeatures looked like a caricature of a face.
"The schoolboy that was able to do that to you, Miller, must havebeen eight feet high and as wide as a gate," remarked one of thered-nosed patrons of the place.
"Shut up!" was Miller's gracious response.
There were other drinking places in Fenton, and to these the news ofthe big fellow's drubbing quickly spread.
Indeed, the fight seemed to be the one topic of the talk of Fentonthat evening.
As it happened, it wasn't very long before word was brought toMiller that Dick and his friends were camping down on Andy Hartshorn'splace.
"It's queer that Hartshorn will let such young toughs stop onhis land!" growled Miller.
"They ought to be chased out of town---that's what!" growled apatron of the place.
More of this talk was heard, until finally someone demanded thickly:
"Well, why can't we chase 'em out of town?"
At first, the idea met with instant favor among the dozen or moreworthless men gathered in Miller's saloon. The plan grew in favoruntil one man, slighter than the rest, observed:
"Say! Stop and think of one thing. We know what one of the boysdid to Miller, and there are six of those boys down at the camp!"
That rather cast a damper over the enthusiasm until one blear-eyedman of fifty observed, knowingly:
"Well, we don't need to go alone. There are other men in Fentonwho think the way we do. We can go down to the woods in force,and pretend that what we want to do comes as a rebuke administeredby the citizens of Fenton."
"Hurrah!" cheered one man who seemed in danger of falling asleep.
"Miller, let us use your telephone," urged the former speaker.
"No, you can't," retorted the liquor seller quickly. "It's allright for you men to do whatever you think is right, but you'vegot to remember that I've got to be kept out of whatever happens."
Well enough did the wretch know that half-hearted opposition fromhim would only fan the flame hotter among the men who consideredthemselves his friends.
So the messengers were sent to the other drinking places in town.Word was passed for a night raid "by representative citizens,"as these topers called themselves.
Men of the same turn of mind soon came flocking in from otherdrinking resorts.
"Don't talk here about what you're going to do for the good ofthe town," Miller ordered. "Remember, I've got to be kept outof this. My position is a delicate one, you understand."
Soon after midnight the disreputable army of vengeance seekerswas straggling down the road. Talking had ceased. These drink-drivenwretches were hunting for the camp of Dick & Co. and they weregoing to attack it in force.