Fred Fenton Marathon Runner Part 9

"Are you sure of that, Bristles?" asked Fred, upon hearing his chum make such an astonis.h.i.+ng a.s.sertion with regard to that tawdry breastpin picked up in the cave.

"Fred, you c'n see for yourself that while this is a mighty cheap old thing, it's made in a queer shape," Bristles went on to say.

"All of which is true, I admit," the other confessed.

"Well, you know I've always been a great hand for noticing things," said Bristles.

"Sure you have," interrupted Colon, who was listening intently, although it was all "Greek" to him; "and 'specially when they happen to be connected with a pretty girl."

Bristles grinned as he turned on the tall chum.

"Oh! rats!" he exclaimed, "you're off your base this time, Colon, because she was a homely little thing, and with clothes on that I'd hate to see a sister of mine wearing. But I say again, and I'll keep on saying it---Sadie, if that was her name, was wearing this same brooch the day we pulled her brother Sam out of the river, when he'd broke into an airhole."

"You understand what that might mean, don't you, Bristles?" pursued Fred.

"Why, I reckon now you're trying to make me see that the boy'n girl might have had something to do with the stealing of Mr. Periwinkle's money and papers," was the way Bristles answered him.

"If the girl was here, the boy must have been, too," said Fred.

"But gee whiz! Fred, that youngster didn't look as if he had half enough nerve to do a thing like that," urged Bristles, scornfully.

"Oh! he had nerve enough, never fear," Fred went on to remark, "for you may remember he never gave a single peep himself, and it was the girl who did the shouting for help."

"Might have been scared too much," suggested Colon, wanting to have some say in the matter.

"No, I don't think he was," replied Fred, "because the girl told us he kept urging and demanding that she hold back and not try to help him, because his one fear seemed to be she would fall in too. But there's one thing we haven't seemed to figure on before, Bristles."

"Say, I just bet you're going to spring that uncle on ne," remarked the other, with surprising quickness.

"Why not," demanded Fred, "when we have learned that Corny Ludson has charge of the boy and girl, and must have been here in this cave with them. There was a man here, because I've found signs of his smoking several cheap cigars, throwing the stubs around afterwards."

"What's that?" cried Colon, just then; "say that name again for me, won't you?"

"Why, Corny Ludson, a man who seems to be uncle or guardian or something to the boy we pulled out of the Mohunk, the last time we ran my iceboat up river," Bristles informed him.

Colon looked happy. No longer was he to remain "sitting on the fence,"

without feeling he had any particular interest in the game.

Circ.u.mstances had managed it so that he could now enter the free-for-all race, and take his place in line.

"Now that's a rather odd name, you'll admit, boys," he started to say in his slow, shrewd fas.h.i.+on, "and it's not likely that there'd be two Corny Ludsons around this section of country; likewise having a couple of half-grown kids along in the bargain."

"Go on, Colon; it begins to look like you knew something we want to hear the worst way," Bristles urged.

"Here's the way it stands, then, fellows," the obliging Colon continued.

"At first I didn't just catch the last name when you spoke about Sam and Sadie. That is why I didn't break in sooner. But Ludson gives it away.

He's the same man Mr. Peets the butcher was talking about one day some little time ago."

"Yes, but tell us what he said, can't you?" urged Bristles.

"You see, I was in there waiting to be served, and the butcher was talking with Judge Wallace. I don't know how it came about they got to arguing, but seemed that Mr. Peets wanted to back up something he said, and so he started in to tell about a man that had just left the shop, having two children along, after buying the cheapest kind of a cut. Said his name was Corny Ludson, and that once he used to be a rich man over in New Brunswick, but he'd lost all he had, and now depended on his wits for a mighty poor living."

"That all sounds pretty, interesting, Colon; but if there's any more, suppose you get along and give us the same," Bristles told him.

"I remember I heard Mr. Peets say he didn't like the looks of the man,"

continued the one who was giving the story; "and then he went on to explain that he considered himself a good reader of character, which allowed him to size the said Ludson up as a trickster who wouldn't stop at taking things belonging to other people, if he believed he could do it without getting caught!"

"Bully!" exclaimed Bristles; "that covers the bill to a dot, doesn't it Fred? Sure Corny must have believed he saw a good chance to grab this tin box belonging to Mr. Periwinkle, and not get the hooks in him. He did it, too, and has been living on the proceeds of the robbery ever since."

"There must be something mysterious about the man, then," remarked Fred.

"And it might pay for someone to get in touch with the people over in New Brunswick, so as to find out whether he did live there once, a rich man, and why he cleared out."

"That's right, Fred," observed Bristles. "When people fight shy of their native place, it pays to learn the reason. Course sometimes they have a good cause for keeping away, but lots of 'em do so because they da.s.sen't go back. But I'm meaning to keep this queer little pin."

"And if you happen to run across Sadie Ludson again, you'll give it back to her, won't you?" Fred asked him.

"Just what I had in mind, to a dot," admitted Bristles. "I might tell her where I picked it up, too, and see what she'd say."

"Well, even if you did get her to admit that she'd been here, that wouldn't prove anything, would it?" queried Colon.

"We'd know Corny had been camping in this cave," said Bristles, st.u.r.dily, "and from the fact that we picked up this same tin box, _empty_, it'd look pretty much as if he ought to know something about it. They'd call that circ.u.mstantial evidence."

"And if the boy and girl had to be questioned by Judge Wallace they might he coaxed to confess that they'd seen their uncle handling this tin box,"

added Fred. "That would fix the blame without any question."

"Something may come of our find," Colon went on to say, now feeling that he had a perfect right to count himself in the game, "and on that account I reckon you'd be doing the right thing to keep both the pin and the box, boys."

"And all we ask of you, Colon," Bristles suggested, "is that you stick mum. Let Fred run the thing. If he wants any help, he'll tell us, so we c'n a.s.sist."

"Oh! I'll be a clam," a.s.serted the tall runner with a chuckle, "and once I give my word, n.o.body ever knew me to break it. But say, doesn't it feel kind of chilly down here? Remember we haven't any too much on in the way of clothes, and for one I was a little heated after my run to catch up with you fellows."

"That's where your head is level, Colon," Fred told him, "and so we might as well climb out of this. I'm happy to know I didn't even sprain an ankle when I dropped down through that hole."

They found no great difficulty in gaining the outside world again, for the stones offered a substantial footing. So it came about that presently the three chums were once more moving along at a fair pace, being desirous of throwing off that chilly feeling.

It turned out that Fred's calculations were correct "to a hair," as Bristles triumphantly declared, when they burst upon the road just fifty yards above the Belleville toll-gate.

"That's figuring some for you!" he exclaimed, as soon as they had sighted the inclined pole that signified the presence of the barrier where every vehicle had to halt and pay the regular tariff, according to the number of wheels, or of the horses it took to draw the load.

They had hung on to the defunct dog in spite of all their hurrying, for that plan to let the farmers of the community know they were rid of their greatest pest still clung to the boys' minds.

Bristles was looking ahead as they advanced along the road, and about this time was heard to give vent to an exclamation.

"Would you believe it?" he cried. "If there isn't the wagon at the toll-gate belonging to that old farmer I heard telling about the dogs that'd played havoc with his sheep! And I reckon now, he'll be right glad to see the leader of the pack laid out as we've got him!"

CHAPTER X