Part 7 (1/2)

Oakvale was scarcely more than a large village, but it boasted many shops, two drugstores, a public school, a post office, and four saloons. As Tom pa.s.sed one of these haunts he saw a group of men standing on the corner. They were gathered around a rough-looking specimen of humanity who stood with one leg thrown across the top of a low hydrant haranguing his boon companions.

”An' Perkins says ter me, 'Now, jist yeou hold yer hosses an' keep yer s.h.i.+rt on, Bill,' says he. 'We don't want no foolin' with thet kid.' Waal, I didn't like ther way he spoke, and so I got kind-er huffy, and he says, 'Here! take yer pay, and git aout! Beat it!'

And here I am!”

”Fired again, eh, Bill?” said one of the loungers.

There was a loud guffaw, and another man dealt Bill a resounding slap on the back. Whereupon the sidewalk meeting adjourned. As they pa.s.sed between the swinging doors of the saloon, Tom touched the last man on the arm.

”Can you tell me where the constable's office is, sir?” he inquired politely.

”I'm Constable Thompson,” replied the man, displaying his badge, for he realized that a Boy Scout would require some proof of the statement. ”What d'you want, sonny?”

Very briefly and to the point, Tom stated his case against the unknown thief who had broken into Ralph's farmhouse during the previous night. Then he showed Thompson the clews. The constable examined them carefully, and seemed to recognize them. While he was doing so, the man called Bill appeared in the doorway and beckoned for him to come inside.

”Ain't you off'n the water wagon, Thomp?” he asked, with a repulsive chortle. ”Come on! What's the mat------?” He broke off abruptly as his eyes fell upon the torn remnants in the constable's hands.

”What---what you got there?” he mumbled, turning pale. ”Got a bargain in-----?”

”No,” replied Thompson curtly. ”Straight goods, Bill Terrill. And it won't be a bargain for---a burglar, unless I'm mistaken. So long!

I've got to hustle or I may miss my guess and my man.”

So saying, he nodded to Tom to follow him and strode away, leaving Bill Terrill on the threshold of discovery.

CHAPTER VIII

THE SURVEYING SQUAD

Terrill's words about ”no foolin' with that kid,” coupled with his startled look when he beheld the fragments of clothing, had started a train of reasoning in the constable's mind. All he said to Tom, however, was: ”Come with me, boy. I'm not hankering for Bill's company just now, though I may be keen to see him later. Come along.”

Turning another corner, he led Tom across a vacant lot to a small, unkempt, dingy old house at the end of the path. In the yard of this dwelling a woman was hanging clothes on a line and a number of mongrel hens were taking dust baths under some lilac bushes.

The breeze wafted the fragrance of these blossoms to Tom's nostrils as he and Thompson approached them.

”h.e.l.lo, Mrs. Terrill!” said Thompson. ”Busy day for you, eh? Why don't you make Bill help you with the wash?”

”Bill's got enough to do was.h.i.+n' his innerds---with liquor!” gruffly retorted the woman, who seemed to be greatly vexed, even angry, at the mention of her husband's name. ”And just as if I haven't put up with him time and time again about it! I won't do it no more!

And him daring to complain about my cookin' and my not mendin' his clothes! Why, this mornin' he come home late, with his coat all torn and his-----”

”What?” almost shouted Thompson. ”What did you say, there m'am?”

---”I said his coat was all torn,” repeated Mrs. Terrill, pleased to find a listener who appeared to be sympathetic. ”You know how 'ternal careless he is, Mr. Thompson, and how much trouble he gives me.”

”I do, I do indeed.” The constable slowly drew out of his pocket the clews Tom had given him. ”Could this be a piece out o' Bill's coat?” he asked in an offhand manner calculated to avert suspicion.

”That's it!” exclaimed Bill's long-suffering wife. ”What of it?”

she added quickly. ”Anything wrong? I guess he must've got into a fight, his face was so battered, but I hope-----”

”Hold on, Mrs. Terrill! Enough said!” interposed the constable, who felt sorry for the way he had led her into a trap. ”I made a bet about these rags, and now I'm going to put it up to Bill.

Do you know where I can find him?”