Part 12 (1/2)
”We didn't have to,” returned Billy sharply; ”but we didn't have the courage to do anything different. We might have told the truth.”
”And bub-been branded as two black sheep by every sus-stiff-necked, straightlaced--”
”Of course; but that would have been no more than what's due us for our part in that affair last night.”
”I fuf-fuf-fail to see it,” snapped Springer in sudden anger. ”We weren't to blame for what happened. We were only juj-just playing a little quiet, friendly game of poker, and--”
”We were just gambling, nothing different. You know it, Phil. I've thought the whole thing over, and this fiction about a little friendly game was shown to me in its true light. Now wait; don't get excited. I was tickled almost sick when I blundered into that game last night. I thought it was simply great. I felt that I was doing something real sporty, and it seemed a corking fine thing to sit down with a bunch like that and play cards for money. It wasn't what I lost that opened my eyes, I tell you that right now. If I'd simply lost my money, I suppose I'd been grouchy over it to myself, but, nothing worse happening, I'd been ready enough to get into the next game, with the hope of winning it back. That's the way it goes; when a fellow loses he's bound to play again to get even; if he wins, he can't quit should he want to, because the other fellows would sneer at him and call him nasty names. So when you're once started gambling for money, you've got to keep it up.
Friendly game! Is it friendliness, trying to get the loose cash of another fellow who needs it as much as you do, and perhaps more?”
”I won't argue a-bub-bout that. Perhaps you're right, but the point doesn't interest me now, with Roy Hooker in his pup-present condition. I didn't like the way the doctor looked at us. Do you thu-think he suspects us, Pipe?”
”Wouldn't wonder a bit,” answered Sleuth. ”But then, it would be natural for him to be suspicious of any fellow who is friendly with Roy.”
”What are we going to do?”
”I dunno. Let's not stand here any longer; let's walk up the street.
I've got to move; I can't keep still.”
They were on the point of moving when they saw Chipper Cooper hurrying toward them almost at a run.
”Wait!” called the approaching boy. ”Where you fellows going?” And then, as he joined them, he asked in a low tone, ”Heard anything this morning?”
”I should say we had,” answered Billy. After which he hastily told Cooper what they had learned from Dr. Grindle.
”Oh, my Jinks!” muttered Chipper, aghast. ”I was hoping Roy'd be all right this morning. I was hoping he'd explain to his folks-tell them he had a fall or something to account for the b.u.mps he got.”
”You were hoping he'd lie,” said Billy, with a short, bitter laugh. ”We had to lie to the doctor when he cornered us. You can see what the business forces us into-lies! It makes me sick to think of it.”
”I've worried all night,” sighed Cooper dolefully. ”Kept waking up every ten minutes, it seemed, thinking about that sc.r.a.p and Roy. What was it the doctor said that he said?”
”Just two words, 'two spades.' Of course he meant the two aces of spades in that crooked pack.”
”That seems to indicate that he's coming round, don't it? He remembered something.”
”And when he cuc-comes round,” said Springer, ”he'll be liable to tell the whole business.”
They were walking up the street toward the Methodist Church, the bell of which had ceased to sound the first call from the steeple. In less than an hour the church-goers would be hurrying along that street. As they approached the church the s.e.xton, who lived across the way a short distance beyond, came out and hobbled toward home, leaning on his cane.
”Where will we go?” asked Springer. ”Hadn't we bub-better take a walk outside the village?”
”I'm not going far,” said Piper. ”I mean to hang around so that I won't miss any news about Roy. It will be half an hour now before people begin to come to church. Let's go into the old sheds out behind it.”
In one of those sheds at the rear of the church they were hidden from the view of any one who might pa.s.s upon the street.
”Wish I hadn't ever got to playing in that game,” confessed Chipper, who on this morning showed no signs of his usual light-hearted ways and flippancy in conversation.
”I reckon we all feel the same about that,” said Piper; ”but it's no use to cry. We shouldn't be thinking so much of ourselves. What if Roy is permanently hurt? What if he never comes round right?”
”Shu-Shultz will be to blame for that.”