The High School Boys' Training Hike Part 34

"Not a lot of it, sir."

"Would you like some?"

"Why, if we may pay-----"

"You may pay me," promptly agreed the farmer, "by bringing the pail back when you pa.s.s this way in the morning."

With that remark he went into another building, soon coming out with an eight-quart pail filled with milk.

"This sort of stuff isn't much good, except when you haven't had any for a long time," laughed the farmer. "Enjoy yourselves.

Say, you don't play football with the Gridley High School eleven, do you?"

"All of us do," d.i.c.k admitted.

"Thought so," chuckled the farmer. "That's why I was interested in you. I saw the Thanksgiving game at Gridley last year. Great game nervy lot of boys, with all their sand about them. There was one fellow in particular, I remember, who broke doctor's orders and jumped into the game at the last minute. He saved the game for Gridley, I heard. I'd like to shake hands with him."

"Then here's your chance, sir," laughed Dave, shoving d.i.c.k forward.

"Mr. d.i.c.k Prescott, Gridley High School."

"My name's Dobbins," smiled the farmer, extending his hand. "Glad to meet you, Prescott. I thought it was you all the time. Mebbe the young man with you is Darrin."

"Yes," laughed d.i.c.k, and there was more handshaking.

"I hope I'll see the rest of your friends when you pa.s.s in the morning," said the farmer cordially.

"Hiram---supper!" called a shrill voice from The doorway.

"Coming, mother! Boys, it does one good to meet the right sort of fellows once in a while. Enjoy the woods in your own way, won't you?"

"That man is right. As he says, it does one good to meet the right sort of fellow once in a while---and he's the right sort,"

declared Darry fervently, as the chums trudged back to their outfit.

Camp was pitched, and supper was soon under way. When it was all over, and everything cleaned up, d.i.c.k looked about him at his friends.

"I wonder if any of you fellows feel the way I do to-night?" he asked. "We still have our white clothes, and Fenton is something of a town. We've been in the woods for so long that I feel just like dressing up in white and taking a stroll into town."

Tom, Dan and Dave voted in the affirmative. Greg and Hazy averred that they had walked enough for one day. So the four boys donned white, while the other two remained behind in flannel and khaki.

d.i.c.k and the three companions of his stroll when almost in Fenton, were pa.s.sing through a street of pretty little cottages when a tiny figure, clad in white ran out of the darkness, b.u.mping into d.i.c.k's knees.

"h.e.l.lo, little one!" cried Prescott, cheerily, picking up a wee little girl of four and holding her at arm's length. "h.e.l.lo, you're crying. What's the matter? Lost mother?"

"No; lost papa," wailed the little one.

"Perhaps we can find him for you," offered Tom, readily.

"Mollie! Mollie, where are you?" came a woman's voice out of the darkness.

"Is this your little girl, madam?" called Prescott. "We'll bring her to you."

In another moment the woman, young and pretty, also dressed in white, had reached the child and was holding her by the hand.

"Oh, you little runaway!" chided Dave, smilingly, as he bent over, wagging a finger at the child.

"No; it's papa that runned away," gasped the little one, in a frightened voice. "He ran away to a saloon."

"Oh, said Dave, straightening up and feeling embarra.s.sed as he caught the humiliated look in the young woman's face.

"Pa---runned away and made mama cry," the little one babbled on, half sobbing. "I must go after him and bring him home."

"Be quiet, Mollie," commanded her mother.

"Papa comes, if he knows you want him," insisted the child. "I tell him you want him---that you cry because he went to saloon."

For an instant the mother caught her breath. Then she began to cry bitterly. d.i.c.k and his friends wished themselves almost anywhere else.

"It's too bad when the children get old enough to realize it,"

said the woman, brokenly. Then, of a sudden, she eyed d.i.c.k and his chums bravely.

"Boys," she said, "I hope the time will never come when you'll feel that it's manly to go out with the crowd and spend the evening in drinking."

"The way we feel about it now," spoke d.i.c.k, sympathetically, "we'd rather be dead than facing any degradation of the sort."

They were only boys, and they were strangers to the woman. Moreover, little Mollie was looking pleadingly towards d.i.c.k, as if loath to let him go. In her misery the young wife poured out her story to her sympathetic listeners. Her husband had been a fine young fellow---was still young. His drinking had begun only three months before.

"We have our own home, more than half paid for," added the woman, pointing to a pretty little cottage. "Tom has always been a good workman, never out of a job. But lately he has been spending his wages for drink. Last month we didn't make our payment on the house. Today he got his month's pay, and promised not to drink any more. He was going to take us into town to-night for a good time, and we were happy, weren't we, baby? Then two of his saloon cronies pa.s.sed the house. Tom went with them, but said he would come right back for us. He hasn't come yet, and he won't come now until midnight. The month's pay will be gone, and that means that the home will be gone, after a little. Boys, I shall never see you again, and it has seemed a help to me to talk to you. Remember, don't ever-----"

"Madam," asked d.i.c.k, suddenly, in a husky tone, "do you mind telling us your husband's name, and the name of the place where he has gone?"

"His name is Tom Drake, and he has gone up to Miller's place,"

answered Mrs. Drake. "But why do you ask? What-----"

"Mrs. Drake," d.i.c.k continued, earnestly, "we don't want to be meddlers, and we'll keep out of this, if you request it. But the child has given me an inspiration that I could help you.

If you authorize me, I'll go to Miller's and see if I can't help your husband to know that his happiness is right here, not in a saloon."

"I---I fear that will be a big undertaking," quivered Mrs. Drake.

A big undertaking, indeed, it was bound to be!

CHAPTER XIX

"I'LL FIGHT HIM FOR THIS MAN!"

"It's wonderfully kind of you!" breathed the woman, gratefully.

"But it really won't do any good. When a man has begun to drink nothing can reclaim him from it. My only hope is to be able to have a talk with Tom when his money is gone."