Part 25 (1/2)

”Hurrah!” cried Ralph and Paul and the others in a chorus.

”Well, I'm glad that it fell to my friend, the sheriff of the next county. He was mighty good to me and deserves all the reward there is coming,” was the remark of the one who was supposed to be the most interested.

He was secretly bitterly disappointed because Minnie had not come over, or asked her father to carry a message. Evidently, whatever it may have been that had come between Minnie and her former friends, the Allens, it was proving an insurmountable barrier.

And on Monday when Frank went to school, as usual, he had to submit to being asked a thousand questions. Often he utterly refused to answer anything further, he became so weary of hearing about the matter.

Minnie appeared as distant as ever. But one thing Frank happened to see that gave him more or less satisfaction; and this was the utter humiliation of Lef Seller.

Lef had been standing around, listening to what was being said; and the air of utter unbelief upon his sneering face told that had he dared he would only too gladly have called the whole story a freak of the imagination; and that in reality the credit belonged to Sheriff Tucker, who had only allowed Frank to a.s.sume the laurels because he wanted to get credit at the Allen department store, where he was known to trade.

Just then Minnie happened to pa.s.s in company with her new chum, Dottie Warren; and thinking to add a drop of bitterness to Frank's cup of joy, Lef immediately posted after the two.

There were some words between them, during which it seemed as though Minnie might be accusing Lef of saying something to which she seriously objected. At any rate she walked on with her head held high in the air, while Lef shrugged his shoulders, and not daring to look toward the grinning group of boys, sauntered off.

Still, that new quarrel between the others did not heal the breach that separated old friends. Frank tried to forget, and laughed as merrily as though there was not a cloud on the horizon.

Professor Parke even called Frank into his study and requested him to relate the strange thing that had happened. The head of Columbia High School had a very tender spot in his heart for Frank Allen, not alone because he was a bright pupil, but on account of the clean character he bore among his fellows.

Coach Willoughby was staying over to see the last game of the season. He declared that while he was losing money every day he remained away from his law business, he could not find it in his heart to desert the boys until they had safely landed that beautiful silver cup in a deciding victory over Bellport.

Truth to tell, the old Princeton graduate was a thorough sport, and once he had yielded to the call of the game he could not break away.

”Don't you come out to practice for several days, Frank,” he advised, ”on Wednesday perhaps, when we start to go over the entire thing again and try new signals, it will be time. There are a few weak spots in the team that need help, and I'm going to devote two afternoons to them exclusively. Wander around, and limber up with walks or a bicycle ride. But please don't employ your spare time rounding up any more rascals, will you?”

”I'll try not to,” laughed Frank; ”but what's a fellow to do if they will persist in throwing themselves at your head?”

”That's a fact, they did kidnap you, to be sure. Well, next time try and see to it that the other fellow goes into Juniper Brook and not you. That's a dangerous trick at this cold season of the year; and especially taking a long ride afterward in an open car.

I wonder you didn't come down with pneumonia, Frank,” said the coach, as he threw one arm affectionately across the other's shoulders.

”Oh! everybody was so kind. I had the loan of a coat first, and an old hat; then Sheriff Tucker got me a big s.h.a.ggy automobile fur coat, which with the hot coffee helped ward off a cold. Finally Doctor Shadduck dosed me good and hard. Nothing doing in that line for me this time,” laughed the boy.

It was on Tuesday afternoon that the time began to drag most heavily on his hands. Paul and Ralph, together with Bones, had gone to the recreation grounds to talk over matters with the coach, and try out some new plays. Frank really knew of no one whom he cared to look up just then.

A reaction seemed to have set in after his recent excitement, and things were most woefully dull. The weather still held dry and fair to a degree that was considered extraordinary for November, usually so dismal with the approach of winter.

”I wonder if it wouldn't be worth while to take a spin on the wheel,” he mused as he considered the matter; ”the chances are the weather will change any day now, and then good-bye to wheeling for the season. Besides, I really believe I'd like to turn down that road to Fayette, and take another look at that old bridge. There are a few things I don't quite understand about that affair.”

The thought aroused him. Again he felt the blood circulating through his veins with the old-time vigor; the stagnation had departed, and it was with considerable elation that he hurried to get his bicycle.

The fact that the bridge was a matter of ten miles or more away did not give him cause for worry. He could easily make it in an hour or less, and be back long before suppertime.

As he pa.s.sed the school building he waved his hand to old Soggy, the janitor and custodian, who was busily engaged with his daily duties.

”Off after another lot, are ye?” laughed the good-natured old fellow; ”well, this time bring 'em in yourself, and don't be botherin' no poor sheriff to help out. You ought to be ashamed, my boy!”

Frank knew that old Soggy would have his joke, and he only laughed in response. That was the one thing objectionable in doing anything out of the ordinary run; every person thought they had a right, either to make a hero out of him, or else sneer at the story as something like the accepted fish yarn.