Part 18 (1/2)

Fred came stealthily out of the yard, after looking back at the house. He went straight up to young Scammon.

”So here ye are, pal,” laughed Tip. ”Glad ye didn't keep me waitin'.

Ye brought the wherewithal?”

”See here, Tip, you scoundrel,” muttered Fred, hoa.r.s.ely, a worried look showing in his eyes, ”I'm getting plumb down to the bottom of anything I can get for you.”

”I told ye to bring twenty,” retorted young Scammon, abruptly.

”That will be enough.”

”I couldn't get it,” muttered Fred.

”Now, see here, pal,” warned Tip, threateningly, ”don't try to pull no roots on me. Ye can get all the money ye want.”

”I couldn't this time,” Fred contended, stubbornly. ”I've got eleven dollars, and that's every bit I could get my hands on.”

”But I've _got_ to have twenty,” muttered Tip, fiercely. ”Now, ye trot back and look through yer Sunday-best suit. You have money enough; yer father's rich, an' he gives ye a lot. Now, ye've no business spendin' any o' that money until ye've paid me what's proper comin' to me. So back to the house with ye, and get the rest o' yer money!”

”It's no use, Tip. I simply can't get another dollar. Here's the eleven, and you'd better be off with it. I can't get any more, either, inside of a fortnight.”

”See here,” raged young Scammon, ”if ye think ye can play-----”

”Take this money and get off,” demanded Fred, impatiently. ”I'm going back home and to bed.”

”I guess, boy, it's about time fer me to see your old man,” bl.u.s.tered Tip. ”If I hold off until to-morrer afternoon, will ye have the other nine, an' an extry dollar fer me trouble?”

”No,” rasped Fred. ”It's no use at all---not for another fortnight, anyway. Good night!”

Turning, Fred sped across the street and back under the shadows at the rear of the lawyer's great house.

”I wonder if the younker's gettin' wise?” murmured Tip. ”He ain't smart enough to know that fer him to go to his old man an' tell the whole yarn 'ud be cheapest in the run. The old man 'ud be mad at Rip, but the old man's a lawyer, an' 'ud know how to lay down the blackmail law to me!”

Feeling certain that he was wholly alone by this time, Tip had spoken the words aloud or sufficiently so for him to be heard a few feet away by any lurker.

s.h.i.+vering a bit, for he was none too warmly clad, young Scammon turned, making his way up the street.

Fully two minutes after Tip had gone his way d.i.c.k Prescott stepped out from behind the place where Tip had been standing.

There was a queer and rather puzzled look on d.i.c.k's face.

”So Fred's paying Tip money, and Tip knows it's blackmail?” muttered the soph.o.m.ore. ”That can mean just one thing then. When Tip held his tongue before and at his trial, last year, he was looking ahead to the time when he could extort money by threatening Fred.

And now Tip's doing it. That must be the way he gets his living.

Whew, but Ripley must be allowed a heap of spending money if he can stand that sort of drain!”

How d.i.c.k came to be on hand at the time can be easily explained.

Earlier in the evening he had been at ”The Blade” office. Mr.

Pollock had asked him to go out on a news story that could be obtained by calling upon a citizen at his home. The story would be longer than d.i.c.k usually succeeded in turning in. It looked attractive to a boy who wanted to earn money, so the soph.o.m.ore eagerly accepted the a.s.signment.

As it happened, d.i.c.k had had to wait a long time at the house at which he called before the man he wanted to see returned home.

d.i.c.k was on his way to ”The Blade” office when he caught sight of Tip Scammon. The latter did not see or hear the soph.o.m.ore approaching.