Part 17 (1/2)

”Now turn the hat around, Bristles,” he cried, ”and look inside!”

Upon doing so the other uttered an exclamation.

”Here they are, two letters that give the thing away---C.J. as plain as print could be!” was his cry.

”Glad that you think the same way we do,” Colon told him. ”And now, I reckon you wonder what Fred's going to do about it.”

”If it were myself, I'd take this hat to c.o.o.ney, and ask him if it was his,” Bristles went on to say, in his fiery fas.h.i.+on. ”Course he'd have to acknowledge the corn, and then I'd proceed to give him the licking he deserves.”

”We'd kind of expect that of you, Bristles,” remarked Colon, magnanimously, ”but you see, Fred'n me, we made up our minds that we'd given that bunch a pretty good layout as it was. What they need is something to show the people of this town what a tough lot that Buck Lemington is dragging around with him.”

”But how could you do that?” the other asked.

”Fred thought of taking the hat to school, and telling the story around, to the teachers and the pupils,” Colon explained, in his accommodating way. ”When they learned how these toughs meant to injure Riverport's chances of winning the great Marathon, just to gratify a little private spite, the town would soon get too hot for Buck and his cronies. They'd have to emigrate for a little while, till the storm blew over.”

”That sounds good to me!” declared Bristles, changing his way of thinking, for while a very determined boy, he could always be reached by argument, and was open to conviction, ”and I hope you carry the plan out, Fred. I'd just like to see those boys put under the ban for a while. Some of them by rights ought to be in the State Reformatory, according to my notion. They're getting too fresh with what they call their pranks, and don't even stop at endangering human life.”

”Well, of course we're glad that you haven't such a terrible cold, Bristles,” remarked Fred, ”but all the same Colon here is sorry for one thing.”

”What might that be?” asked the said Colon.

”You see,” continued Fred, ”after I told him about how you called me up, and wanted an interview right away, because you had something important to tell, Colon here began to get terribly excited. He kept wondering what it was you meant to explain; and I know that after we'd run that mob off, nearly the first thing he said was that he felt cheated out of a sensation, because you didn't want me so bad after all.”

At that Bristles laughed loud and long, at the same time looking queerly at his guests out of the tail of his eye.

”Too bad to disappoint you, isn't it, fellows?” he went on, in a tone of mock sympathy, ”but say, maybe I might scare up some little news after all, that'd kind of take the place of the thrilling story they hatched up for me.”

”Let it be on the strict level then, Bristles,” warned Colon, severely, as he shook his forefinger at the other; ”we don't want you to invent any old yarn just to please us.”

”What I'm going to tell you,” began Bristles, very solemnly, ”is straight goods, believe me. I don't know whether Fred here will think it of much importance, but late this afternoon I chanced to run across an old acquaintance. Guess who it was, boys.”

”Huh! I bet you it was Corny Ludson!” exclaimed Colon, quick as a flash.

Bristles started, and looked keenly at the long-legged chum.

”Well, you hit mighty close to the bull's-eye, then, Colon,” he remarked; ”but you forget I never saw that same Corny Ludson in my life that I know of, and so how could he be an old acquaintance. But he's got a little girl named Sadie, a niece, or ward, or something like that, you may remember.”

”Then you saw her?” asked Fred, eagerly enough, for he had been wondering lately what could have become of those two children.

”Not only saw her,” continued the other, ”but talked with her.”

”Tell us about it, Bristles,” urged Colon.

”Why, it was this way,” began the other, complying briskly. ”She was just coming out of the cheap grocery, and had several bundles in her arms, as if she might have been buying bread, and some such things. I knew her just as soon as I set eyes on her, for she wore that same old frowsy red dress, and had a little tad of a shawl pinned over her shoulders. The poor thing looked like a wind'd blow her away, with her thin, pinched face, and big startled eyes.”

”Oh! let all that drop, Bristles,” expostulated Colon. ”What we want to know is, how did you come to speak to her, and did she remember you?”

Bristles was bound to tell his story in his own way. Without paying any attention to this nagging on the part of the tall chum, he kept facing Fred, and went on deliberately.

”There was a horse and buggy standing at the curb, and say, you never in all your life saw such a dilapidated outfit. Talk to me about the famous 'one hoss shay,' it couldn't have been a circ.u.mstance beside that rig.