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The boys nodded to signify that they understood.
"Pendleton is a shrewd fellow," said Mr. Kenby, "and while we may not like him personally, I do not believe he would bother with a mining proposition at all if he did not see money in it."
"That's true," said Mr. Duncan. "Like yourself I have some confidence in the actual value of the property. What I am afraid of is that Pendleton is seeking a way to eventually crowd the boys out of the proposition altogether. There is only one way to remedy such a thing-that is through a controlling interest in the mine, and that the boys have not got."
"Then let me suggest that we induce Lucy to part with her share to Fleet," said Mr. Kenby. "That will give the boys a three-fifths interest, and will overcome the difficulty you mention."
"A good idea," said Mr. Duncan. "Chot shall write to Lucy at once. She is in Stockdale with her aunt-or, at least, she said that was where she was going when she left here a few weeks since."
"I'll write to her to-night," said Chot, which called forth a wink from Fleet. Chot understood the wink but paid no attention to it, and Fleet subsided.
"Be careful how you word the letter," said Mr. Duncan. "It is a delicate subject for her, and there is no use to offend her or prejudice her against her father."
"Leave that to me," said Chot. "I had a perfect understanding with her at the time the papers were signed. She loves her father, I think, but knows he does not always deal squarely."
"An awful position for a girl to be in," said Mr. Kenby, with a grave shake of the head. "It's lucky that Lucy has an aunt to stay with."
"It is," said Chot. "Mrs. Dashworth does not like Mr. Pendleton, and will always look after Lucy's welfare."
"Well, if she does not, there are others who will," said Chot's father, in a grim tone that sent a thrill through each of the boys.
"I'll tell you, fellows," said Chot, when Mr. Duncan and Mr. Kenby had gone down into the library for a smoke before retiring, "this mine is going to cause us trouble. I can feel it in die air. That is, unless we relinquish all claim to it, and that I'm sure none of us are inclined to do."
"No; not in the face of facts made clear to-night," said Tom. "Something has always told me that Luther Pendleton was a rascal of the first water. I cannot say what has made me believe this-instinct, perhaps-but ever since that day at the bra.s.s works, after my father died, when he told me of the obligation we would have to pay, I have mistrusted him."
"Pendleton may know more of your father's accounts than he cares to admit," said Fleet.
"I have often thought that, and am waiting such a time as I can confront him with something substantial in the way of proof to that effect," said Tom.
"It has always seemed to me," said Chot, "that Luther Pendleton was not the sort of man to be the father of a fine girl like Lucy. I heartily wish he was not her father, for you must realize that regard for her would hold us back in this matter, when otherwise we would be inclined to see Pendleton severely punished."
"It is for Lucy's sake that I have never quite expressed my sentiments with regard to her father," said Tom.
The boys finally separated for the night, Fleet going home with his father, and Tom to his attic den where he had a comfortable bed.
Chot sat up late, writing first to Commandant Cullum about Hoki, and then to Lucy. He went into considerable detail in the latter, asking Lucy if she would transfer the stock to Fleet for a sum to be agreed upon.
He mailed the letters in the morning.
CHAPTER XXV-CONCLUSION
For the next few days Fleet kept away from his chums for the greater part of the time, and when they pressed him to know how he was occupying his time, he merely winked, and said:
"Wait and see."
Hour after hour he spent in his den, the door locked, and the only way they could communicate with him at such a time was by means of a telephone, and then his answers were sometimes short.
"I'm awfully busy," he said one day to Chot, when his chum rang him up and asked him to go swimming in the creek. "Sorry, but I'll have to ring off."
And that was all Chot could get out of him. So he and Tom and Hoki went off to the creek together, speculating on what Fleet was doing, but not reaching any satisfactory conclusion.
"It may be an invention of some sort," said Tom.
"No; I believe not," said Chot. "Fleet is not of an inventive turn of mind. He's a good electrician and a good general mechanic, but when it comes to originating ideas along these lines, he has never displayed any talent."
"That's right," Tom replied. "Well, I suppose he will tell us about it in due time."
At last one day Fleet came out of his den, his face wreathed in smiles, and when he went to the post office he carried a package of considerable size, which he stamped and mailed.
Then he joined in the activities with the other boys. Excursions to the woods, canoeing on the creek, with daily swims in the cool waters, served to make the time pa.s.s quickly.
Hoki was initiated into the mysteries of an athletic life. He already knew considerable of his own jiu-jitsu, and he, in turn, taught the boys considerable of this, and much of their time was spent in becoming perfect in it, as its many advantages were manifest.
Learned in connection with scientific boxing, it would prove formidable against any sort of an antagonist, they felt.
Hoki was a continual source of delight to them, his quaint manners and methods of speech causing them to laugh uproariously on all occasions.
This the little j.a.p took good naturedly. It did not discourage him in the least. He was determined to learn thoroughly American ways and customs, and in exchange for the knowledge given him by the boys, told them many wonderful things about the land of the Mikado.
One afternoon a little incident occurred that proved beyond any doubt the j.a.p's loyalty to the Comrades.
Hoki had been down to the post office on an errand for Chot and Tom and was returning when he was accosted by several of the village boys, led by a young bully, named Carter Dane. Carter had never liked the Comrades, and insisted that since they had been away a year to school they were "stuck up," and did not care for the company of their former a.s.sociates.
"Watch me have some fun with this j.a.p," he remarked, a sneer curling his lip, as he saw Hoki approaching along the road.
The little j.a.p was moving at a good pace, despite the hotness of the afternoon, and was right upon the boys, who were sitting on a fence in the shade, before he saw them. Then, to show his good will, he grinned and bowed.
"What do you mean by speaking to your betters?" cried Carter Dane, as he confronted the j.a.p.
He towered at least a head over Hoki, and was built after a stocky fas.h.i.+on, with plenty of muscle and strength from a life lived mostly in the open air.
"No understand," said Hoki, pausing and backing away a little, as if in doubt as to Carter's purpose.
"No, I guess you don't understand," continued the bully. "No j.a.p ever understands anything worth understanding. I don't know why those fellows ever brought you to Mortonville, but I do know one thing-you can't speak to every boy you meet in the village."
Hoki said nothing, unable to fathom Carter's motive for talking thus. He could not see where one whom he had never harmed could have a motive for wis.h.i.+ng to do him injury.
"So you're afraid, eh?" demanded the bully. "I thought so. You get that from Chot Duncan and his crowd."
"Chot Duncan all right!" said Hoki. His face was expressionless, but his little black eyes fairly snapped fire as he glared at his antagonist.
"Oh, he is, is he?" said Carter, advancing toward him. "I think I'd better teach you a lesson. You can't talk impudently to your betters.
Don't you know that?"
"You're not my better," said the j.a.p boy, and as he spoke he straightened up and waited for Carter to approach.