CHAPTER V--A SURPRISE

  Meanwhile Fred had decided that he would make some investigations of hisown. His apparent lack of courage had reacted now and he was determinedto do something which would enable him to redeem himself in the eyes ofhis companions.

  Accordingly when his friends decided early in the afternoon that theywould take the automobile and go to the country club for a game oftennis he excused himself on the plea that there were some other andvery important matters to which he must attend.

  It was a matter of self-denial for Fred to decline to join hiscompanions in a visit to the country club. This place throughout thesummer afternoons was one that was marked in the region. Crowds of youngpeople assembled there and the tennis courts and golf links wereoccupied by people who were finding their vacation days passing all toorapidly in the beautiful region.

  To the protests of his friends Fred refused to listen. Even the factthat his absence might prevent a game of tennis from being played didnot appeal to him. He quietly and steadfastly adhered to his purpose.

  Soon after luncheon he saw his friends depart, although the last wordshe heard were their calls for him to reconsider and join them.

  Previous to their departure George called Fred into the library and in alow voice said to him, "Take my advice, lad, and don't try it."

  "Don't try what?" Fred inquired.

  "You know what I mean."

  "I haven't the least idea."

  "Well, then I tell you again that my advice to you is not to do it."

  "But I don't know what you mean."

  "If you'll think it over for two or three hours I'm sure you'll findout," declared George and he withdrew from the room.

  George's warning was still fresh in Fred's mind when the boys no longercould be seen. He was still mystified by the strange warning. He waspositive that he had not spoken to any of his friends concerning theproject in his mind and therefore it was impossible that George couldhave heard any word of his plans.

  Assured that his companions had departed, Fred soon afterward set forthon his solitary expedition. He had, however, not entered the road beforehe saw the automobile returning.

  "What's wrong?" he called as the car stopped in front of the long,winding driveway that led to the farmhouse, which was located back onthe hillside.

  "I went off without my tennis racquet," explained George. "You havedecided to come with us, haven't you, Fred?

  "No, I'm not going," replied Fred.

  "But you're going somewhere," said George. "What are you doing down herein the road if you're not? I thought you had some very important matterswhich you had to attend to this afternoon?"

  "I have," and Fred refused to listen to the renewed pleadings of hisfriend, although he did not start on his way to the old Meeker Houseuntil once more the automobile had passed out of sight. He wassuspicious as he walked on that George's return for the racquet had beena pretense on his part. He was somewhat suspicious now that Georgebelieved he was about to go back to the old house, although what hadgiven him that impression it was impossible for him to say.

  On his journey Fred had taken with him the collie dog which belonged toGeorge. The animal was unusually beautiful and its owner was exceedinglyproud of it, as it had won a prize whenever he had exhibited it.

  Delighted to be permitted to accompany Fred the intelligent animalexpressed his pleasure in his own noisy and active manner.

  It was not until Fred at last had arrived at the road in front of theold house that the collie displayed any uneasiness. When Fred turned inat the open gateway the dog, looking up into his face whined, and thenapparently convinced that protests on his part were unavailing, turnedand ran from the place.

  Startled by the unexpected action Fred returned to the road and watchedthe dog as it fled swiftly homeward. A feeling of uneasiness crept overhim despite his attempt to laugh. It was impossible for spooks to befound, he assured himself, on such a day. The afternoon sun, warm, andyet not unduly warm, was flooding the beautiful region with its beams.The fertile land, the attractive houses, even the woods back upon thehillside all seemed to be sharing in the absolute quiet that prevailed.Not a sound was to be heard save the noisy flights of the wingedgrasshoppers or the occasional unmusical sound which proclaimed thepresence of locusts.

  Determined to ignore the momentary impression which the unwillingness ofthe dog to accompany him into the old house had aroused, Fred once moreturned toward the rear of the old building. A fallen grape-arbor on hisright and the tangled mass of vines that grew along the ground showedhow long it had been since the place had received any attention. Therewas an air of neglect and decay manifest wherever he looked. The passingboys had thrown stones or snowballs at the windows until only a fewpanes were left. The chimneys had crumbled in part, so that not one wasstanding in its original form. The grass was high and tangled and theshrubs in the yard were rank and overgrown. The place which manifestlyat one time had been the abode of people who had given it every care andaffection had now been forgotten.

  And yet, was it really forgotten? Fred vividly recalled the experienceof the preceding evening as he advanced toward the kitchen door. Thedoor still was hanging upon its hinges and was only partly closed.Doubtless it had been left ajar by George in his exit the night before.

  Fred stepped cautiously inside the building. The silence that followedfor a time was unbroken. The very stillness itself produced its effectupon the boy and when he stopped and looked intently all about him, hisheart was beating rapidly, although he assured himself there was nocause for fear.

  Suddenly from the front room came a sound that was unusual and somewhatstartling in the prevailing stillness. It was a sound not unlike thatproduced by a noisy rattler in the hands of a small boy. The noise,however, was forgotten, when, to Fred's intense amazement, whichincluded perhaps an element of alarm, he was startled by the sound offootsteps on the stairway.

  Once more he assured himself that it was broad daylight. Again herecalled the statement which he had heard many a time that in suchhouses there was nothing to be feared except after the shades of nighthad fallen. He could plainly see the rays of the afternoon sun as theyentered through the open window and fell across the floor of the room inwhich he was standing.

  But the footsteps could not be denied. The sound became plainer. For aninstant Fred glanced timidly toward the door and was strongly tempted torun from the place.

  Before he started, however, the footsteps ceased, the old door at thefoot of the stairway creaked upon its hinges and a moment later Fred sawstanding before him a man, whose appearance proclaimed him to be atramp.

  The surprise was mutual, and for a moment the man and the boy staredblankly at each other. Fred suspected that the stranger doubtless hadbeen sleeping in the upper room. Indeed the boy laughed in his relief ashe was confident now that he had discovered the source of the strangesounds that had been heard the preceding evening.

  "Hello, young man," called the tramp in a low, guttural voice. "Did youcome in here to wake me up? I told me valet not to call me until fiveo'clock."

  "No, I didn't come in here to wake you up," said Fred quietly.

  "Maybe you come from the hospital?"

  "No," said Fred simply.

  "I'm expecting somebody from the hospital."

  "What's the matter? Are you sick?"

  "Yes, I be. Leastwise, I've got some symptoms I don't like."

  "Tell me what the trouble is," suggested Fred good-naturedly. "Perhaps Ican help you."

  "From the best I can find out I think I am threatened with hydrostaticinternal spontaneous combustion."

  "It's more likely your conscience," laughed Fred.

  "No, it isn't my conscience. I can stick a pin in that and not flinch.No, it's something else that's the matter with me. I feel as if I wereburning up inside."

  "You're not going to get anything out of me," laughed Fred, "to put outthe fire."

  "That's a pity," said the tramp, who now seated himself quietl
y on thefoot of the stairs. "That's a pity. All I need is a nickel to stop thatroaring flame. I'm suffering from another trouble too," added the tramp.

  "What's that?"

  "Overweariness of the flesh. I've had that for considerable time. It's agreat source of suffering. Still, I don't know that either of those isquite as bad as something else."

  "What, have you got more troubles still?"

  "Yes, I have."

  "What are they?"

  "Well, the chief one is that I'm an orphan. There isn't any home waitingfor little Willie." The man shook his head in mock pathos and Fredlaughed heartily. "I have consulted specialists," began the tramp oncemore, "but I don't find any one to relieve me. The last man I went tosaid he thought the best thing he could prescribe would be for me to goout in the country where I could breathe fresh air and not have toendure hard labor."

  "What were you doing, breaking stone?" laughed Fred.

  For a moment the tramp glared upon the lad, but a moment later he saidgood-naturedly, "If I thought you knew what that meant I would give yousomething to make you remember this visit a long time. No, my greattrouble is that I'm too ardent an American. I insist upon seeing my owncountry. I have been going to and fro, wandering up and down the land--"

  "You're not the only one," broke in Fred. "It seems to me I've heardabout another individual who is going about like a roaring lion."

  "Why don't you come in and sit down," suggested the tramp, apparentlyignoring Fred's last suggestion. "Ever been in this old house before?"

  "Once."

  "When was that?"

  "Last night."

  "How long did you stay?"

  "I don't remember. We left in such a hurry," said Fred somewhatruefully.

  "Oh, you found the spooks, did you?"

  "We heard some strange noises. The strangest of all was that some onecalled my name."

  "Oh, that's not strange," declared the tramp lightly. "I've been in thishouse hundreds of times. I have heard my name called and never flinchedonce. Sometimes the constable calls it and sometimes somebody else, butit doesn't make any difference; I never answer. If you'd like to lookthrough the old house I'll show you around."