CHAPTER XVI
FLIGHT
If Mr. Johnson Miles had charged him of theft with a loud voice, Halcould not have felt the accusation more keenly than he felt it in theaviator's look and tones. And the worst feature of the situation was thefact that the finger of circumstantial proof pointed directly at theboy.
At first, almost overcome with dismay, Hal suddenly realized theinjustice of the suspicion against him, and stiffening with anger, heblazed forth:
"What do you mean, sir? Do you mean to say that I stole it?"
Mr. Miles did not answer the question. He merely looked stern and askedanother, while a score of boys gathered around, gazing on the two withstartled wonder.
"Can you tell me where you got it?" inquired Mr. Miles.
"Yes, sir, I can," Hal replied defiantly. "I found it in the cave."
"Where you found my bag of souvenirs?"
"Yes, sir."
"Why didn't you turn it over to me with the bag?"
"Because I didn't find them at the same time. I found that nugget to-dayafter we finished the bridge through the waterfall."
"Why didn't you say something about it? Why did you hide it in yourpocket and keep still? A boy would naturally become pretty excited onfinding a gold nugget."
"I didn't hide it in my pocket," was Hal's choking reply. "I didn't knowwhat it was and just stuck it in my pocket."
"Why didn't you throw it away?"
"It wasn't like an ordinary stone. It was heavy, and I wanted to look atit in the light."
"Where are the rest of them?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean the other nuggets," said the aviator with continued sternness."There were six in the bag."
For a moment Hal's eye blazed with indignation; then his spirit seemedto collapse. The implied charge and the suspicious circumstances weretoo much for him.
"I don't know," he said hoarsely, and with a furtive glance at the boysaround him, he walked out of the wash room.
Hal was late at supper that evening. In fact, there were only a few leftat the tables when he entered the dining room. He took a seat at a tablealone and ate in moody silence. He felt bitter and wished he could leavethe school never to return, although no experience in his life had everbeen more pleasant than his three years at Lakefarm.
This was the second time that suspicion had been directed toward himregarding the disappearance of the aviator's nuggets, and now he couldsee no possible way of proving his innocence. Unluckily, he had had noidea of the real nature of his find until Walter Hurst pronounced itgold and the owner appeared on the scene and claimed it.
After supper he went gloomily to his room and sat down and waited to besummoned to the doctor's office. Of course, Mr. Miles had gone straightto Dr. Byrd and informed him of the scene in the wash room, and theowner of Lakefarm would soon call Hal to account.
But no call came, and Hal soon found himself imagining all sorts ofdireful explanations of the seeming inactivity. Probably the doctor hadsent for the town marshal to come and take the nugget-thief to jail. Orpossibly the owner of the school had decided to have nothing more to dowith this bad boy and was even now writing to his father to come andtake him away.
In a short time Hal had worked himself up to a very nervous and unhappystate. Then he began to plan wildly how he might escape the undeservedpunishment that he saw ahead.
"If I could run Mr. Miles' airship I'd fly away in it," he saidbitterly. "And it'd serve him right, too. He didn't have any business tocondemn me without a hearing. He might have given me the benefit of thedoubt until I'd had a chance to prove I was innocent. But I couldn'tprove anything with him looking at me that way."
"Hello, Hal, what's the matter?"
Pickles, his roommate, interrupted his unhappy reverie with this cheeryinterrogation as he entered the room. Pickles was a quiet little fellowwho seldom took anything very seriously and had a habit of stealing onone and surprising him with an unexpected "boo!" Hal started visibly onthis occasion, much to the glee of Pickles.
"What's the matter?" repeated the smaller boy as he observed the glumlook on Hal's face.
"Nothing," was the half surly reply; "only I'm goin' to run away."
"Run away! Hal! What for?"
"Don't speak so loud, Pick," cautioned Hal. "Yes, I've really made up mymind. I'm going to-night; and I want you to keep my secret."
"Oh, Hal, you mustn't," Pickles gasped under his breath. "What would Ido here without you? You're the best friend I've got."
Kenyon was surprised. He had had no idea that any of his associatesregarded him with such affection, and this manifestation moved him not alittle.
"Pickles," he said warmly; "you're a peach of a kid. I've never got madat you since I first met you, and you've never got mad at me. That'ssayin' a whole lot. Some kids you've got to get mad at every minute tokeep 'em from walking all over you."
"Bad, for instance."
"Yes--and no. Bad's a bad one unless you know how to handle him. We'vealways been good friends, and I like him."
"So do I, but he's mean sometimes. I like Bun better. But what you goingto run away for, Hal? Is it the nugget?"
"Yes--and Mr. Miles. He thinks I'm a thief. And so do all the rest."
"I don't, Hal, if you say you're not," declared the faithful Walter.
"Pickles, you're the best fellow on earth," said Kenyon warmly, steppingclose and putting both hands on his friend's shoulders. "You almost makeme feel like sticking. But I can't."
"Why not, Hal?"
"Everybody--excepting you--thinks I'm a thief, and I can't prove I'mnot. So I'm just going to cut loose. Some day I'll come back and proveI'm innocent."
"I'm sorry I picked up the nugget, Hal. I wish I hadn't told what itwas. But I was so surprised I couldn't help it."
"That's all right, Pick. It wasn't your fault. I don't blame you a bit."
"When you goin', Hal?"
"To-night--just as soon as everybody's asleep."
"Where you going--home?"
"I don't know. Maybe; maybe not. Anyway, I'll write home and tell motherand father I didn't steal."
"Let me go with you, Hal."
"No, Pickles, you mustn't think of doing such a thing. You must stayhere and tell them all I'm not a thief. Oh, Pick, it's terrible to becalled such a thing. You don't know how I feel about it. Your father'srich and mine's poor, but I wouldn't steal if I was starving--any more'nyou would. Even when I was selling newspapers in Denver and making onlyhalf or quarter of a cent on each paper, I couldn't think of stealing.I'd run a block to catch a man if I found I'd given him the wrongchange. I'll write to Dr. Byrd and tell him all about it, for I'll haveto thank him for what he has done for me."
"Hal, I'll do anything you want me to, but I'd rather go along. Ifyou'll wait, I'll write to my father and he'll come here and fixeverything up for you."
"No, it's all settled what I'm going to do," Hal answered determinedly."You stay here, and when I get settled in a job somewhere, I'll writeyou."
"Well, it's half an hour till bedtime," said Pickles. "I'm going outtill then."
"Don't give me away."
"I should say not. You'll be here when I come back?"
"Yes."
Walter slipped softly out of the room, as was his custom. In the libraryhe found Fes Sharer and whispered a few words in his ear. Then the twostarted out on a hunt and soon rounded up Bun and Bad. The four chumsthen held a whispered conference out on the lawn. As they separated,Pickles said:
"Remember, in an hour, under the big poplar."
Half an hour after bedtime, three boys might have been seen to slip outof a window of the dormitory to the ground. It was dark, the starstwinkling sharply in the clear sky. Swiftly they sped away from thebuilding, along the edge of the campus and two hundred yards beyond,until they came to a great tall tree, whose abundant branches andfoliage hugged close and tapering to the trunk. There they stopped, satd
own, with the tree between themselves and the school, and whisperedexcitedly to each other.
Ten minutes later another dark form emerged from another window of thedormitory and took a similar course. He carried a bundle under one arm.Hardly had he left the shadow of the school buildings and the borderingtrees when another youth slipped from the same window and followed him.
The three forms under the tree hugged close to the ground as the boywith the bundle passed within twenty feet of them. Presently the fifthboy reached the tree and the three forms under it stood erect.
"Come on," beckoned the last youth, and all four started in pursuit ofthe one ahead.
Presently the latter heard a footstep behind and threw a startled lookbackward. With a half-choked cry of astonishment, he broke into a runand fairly flew along the road that led toward Mummy Canyon.