Part 5 (1/2)

”Take off your coat, Spud, and put on mine,” said Songbird, as he commenced to divest himself of his garment.

”Yes, and Stanley can have my coat,” came from Tom. He now looked relieved, but his eyes had a strange light in them.

”It's queer how your old cap landed right on the top of the well,”

remarked Spud. ”Why didn't the wind carry it to some safer place?”

At this remark Tom's face grew suddenly red. He tried to speak and gave a gulp.

”There isn't much wind now,” added Stanley. ”How was it, Tom?”

”I--er--I--the wind didn't blow the cap,” was the lame answer. Just then Tom wished he was a thousand miles away. He could not look his chums in the face.

”It didn't blow the cap?” demanded Spud. ”What do you mean?”

To this Tom did not answer. Sam wanted to speak, but did not know what to say. Songbird looked curiously at Tom.

”Say, look here!” burst out Stanley, striding forward. ”Do you mean to say, Tom Rover, that you put that cap on the old well on purpose?”

”I--I--did,” answered Tom feebly. ”I--er--I thought it was a--a joke.”

”A joke?” cried Spud, sarcastically.

”A joke, to put us in peril of drowning, or smothering to death!”

roared Stanley. ”If you call that a joke I don't, and I want you to know it!” And in a sudden pa.s.sion he doubled up his fists and sprang towards Tom.

But Sam rushed between the pair.

”Stanley, don't, please don't!” he cried. ”Tom made a mistake,--he knows it now.”

”He'll know it after I am done with him!” cried the other, hotly.

”He's not going to play a joke on me that puts me in danger of my life!

I'll take it out of his hide!” And he tried to get past the younger Rover.

But still Sam held him back.

”Stanley, don't touch him. You know how sick he's been. He isn't himself. Let it pa.s.s. He's as sorry as any of us that it happened; aren't you, Tom?”

”Sure I am,” answered Tom, readily; but his tone of voice was that of one who didn't care much, one way or the other. Tom was not himself, that was certain.

”Humph, maybe he's sorry and maybe he isn't,” muttered Stanley. ”I guess he ought to have a thras.h.i.+ng. Anyway, I am done with him,” and he flung back the coat Tom had offered him.

All in the crowd looked at Tom, expecting him to say something more.

But Tom shut his mouth tightly and walked away, up the river path. He was without his coat. Sam picked up the garment and made after his brother.

”Tom, come back here!”

”I won't, Sam. You can stay with them if you want to. I'll take a walk alone,” was the moody answer, and Tom walked faster than ever.

”Of all the mean things to do!” murmured Spud, shaking his head slowly.