The High School Boys' Training Hike Part 41

Lawyer Stark reddened a good deal, despite his sallow skin.

"Why, what about that other half? What's the story?" questioned Mr. Hartshorn, his eyes, twinkling as though he scented something amusing.

"Oh---er---just a matter of business between a client and myself,"

the lawyer explained, in some confusion.

"And poor old Hinman was the client, eh?" asked the farmer.

"We don't know very much about the matter," Dave Darrin broke in, a trifle maliciously, for he fell that it might be a good thing to show up this lawyer's tricky work. "Mr. Hinman gave Mr. Stark a bill of twenty dollars to collect, and-----"

"It was---er---all a matter of business between a client and myself, and therefore of a confidential nature," Lawyer Stark broke in, reddening still more.

But Dave was in no mood, just then, to be headed off so easily, so he went on:

"Mr. Hinman showed us the letter, and asked us what we thought of it, so that rather broke the confidential nature of the matter.

You see," turning to Mr. Hartshorn, "the bill was for twenty dollars, and it seems that. Mr. Stark was to have half for his trouble in collecting it. Now the letter that Mr. Hinman showed us-----"

"I protest, young man!" exclaimed the lawyer.

"The letter," Darry went on calmly, "was to the effect that Mr.

Stark had collected his own half of the twenty dollars, and that the collection of Mr. Hinman's half of the money seemed doubtful."

"Now, now, Stark!" exclaimed the farmer, looking sharply at the lawyer. "Surely, that isn't your way of doing business with a poor and aged client like Hinman!"

"I have collected the remainder of the bill, and am going to mail a settlement to Mr. Hinman to-day," muttered the lawyer, trying to look unconcerned. "All just a matter of routine office business, Mr. Hartshorn."

But the lawyer felt wholly uncomfortable. He was thinking, at that moment, that he would heartily enjoy kicking Darrin if the latter didn't look so utterly healthy and uncommonly able to take care of himself.

"Do I hear you discussing money that is due my father?" inquired a voice behind them. "If so, my father is very ill, as you doubtless know, and I would take pleasure in receiving the money on his behalf."

Timothy Hinman, looking wholly the man of fas.h.i.+on, made this offer.

He had come up behind the group, and there was a look in his eyes which seemed to say that the handling of some of the family money would not be distasteful to him just then.

"I'll walk along with you to your office, Mr. Stark, and receipt for the money, if you're headed that way," suggested the younger Hinman again.

"Unless you hold a regular power of attorney from your father, you could hardly give me a valid receipt," replied the lawyer sourly, as he turned away from Mr. Hartshorn and the boys and started down the street.

"Won't my receipt do until my father is up and about once more?"

pressed Timothy Hinman.

"No, sir; it won't," snapped the lawyer.

"Have you heard, this morning, how your father is?" d.i.c.k inquired.

"Just heard, at the post-office," Hinman answered. "My father had a very bad day yesterday. Er---in fact, the chances, I am sorry to say, appear to be very much against his recovery."

"He must feel the strain of his father's illness," observed Dave sarcastically.

"He does!" retorted Mr. Hartshorn, with emphasis. "If old Reuben dies young Timothy must go to work for a living. The disgrace of toil will almost kill him. His two sisters are as bad as he is. They've never done a stroke of work, either. All three have lived on the poor old peddler's earnings all their lives, though not one of the three would be willing to keep the old man's house for him. There are a lot of sons and daughters like them to-day.

Perhaps there always have been."

Mr. Hartshorn waited until d.i.c.k and Dave had finished with the purchases and had loaded them on the wagon.

Then the farmer shook hands with each member of d.i.c.k & Co.

"I'm coming up to Gridley to see the football game this Thanksgiving,"

he promised. "I hope I'll see as good a game as I did last year.

Anyway, I'll see the work of a mighty fine lot of young fellows."

Prescott expressed again the heartiest thanks of himself and friends for the timely aid given them during the trouble in camp.

"We've lost so much time this morning that we'll have to hustle for the rest of the day," Tom called down from the wagon seat, as he started the horse.

An hour later they were more than three miles past Fenton.

"Get out of the way, Tom!" called Dave. "Drive up into someone's yard like lightning. Here comes a whizz wagon that wants the whole highway."

Behind them, its metal tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs flas.h.i.+ng in the sun, and leaving a trail of dust in its wake, came an automobile traveling at least sixty miles an hour.

Yet, fast as the car was going when it pa.s.sed them, the speed did not prevent one occupant from recognizing them and calling out derisively. Then, half a mile ahead, the car stopped, turned, and came slowly back toward the wondering Gridley boys.

CHAPTER XXIV

CONCLUSION

Five rather contemptuous pairs of youthful eyes surveyed d.i.c.k & Co. as their outfit plodded on its way.

"Aren't they a mucker looking outfit?" demanded one voice from the car.

Then the automobile shot ahead again.

"Phin Drayne! Humph!" said Darry rather scornfully.

Phin Drayne is no stranger to the readers of the "_High School Boys Series_," who will recall Phin as the "kicker" who, at the game on the Thanksgiving before, had sulked and refused to go on the field, hoping to induce the other members of the Gridley High School gridiron team to coax him to play. Thus d.i.c.k, though suffering at that time from injuries, and forbidden to play, had been forced out onto the field to help win the great game of the season. Of course a kicker like Drayne did not like Prescott.

d.i.c.k worried but little on that account.

"There! they are coming back," Greg announced. "They are grinning at us again."

"If they keep on grinning," threatened Darry, "we'll sic Danny Grin onto them. When it comes to grinning our own Danny boy can grin down anything on earth."

As if to verify that claim, Dalzell began to grin broadly. Besides this, he turned his face toward the occupants of the automobile as it once more pa.s.sed d.i.c.k & Co.

Just at this point the car slowed down. Phin Drayne looked as though he were exhibiting his fellow students of Gridley High School as so many laughable freaks.

"That's what I call a vacation on the cheap," Drayne remarked to his friends, in a tone wholly audible to d.i.c.k & Co.