Mark Tidd, Editor Part 16

But just then a kid came around the corner of the house. He was just an ordinary-looking kid, though it didn't seem like he was enjoying himself very much. He sat down alongside the stone dog and propped his head up in his hands and stared at the ground.

"L-lonesome," says Mark, sympathetic-like.

"Let's go in and play with him," says I.

"Sure," says Mark, sarcastic, "and s-spill the whole mess of beans. What would the Knight With the Black Gauntlets do if he saw us playin' with that Duke, eh? He wouldn't suspect any thin', would he?"

"Let's git him over here, then," says I.

"Charm him over l-like a snake does a bird," says Mark.

But the Duke saved us trouble by getting up and walking over toward the hedge and then following the hedge around toward us. When he was right opposite us Mark whistled low and cautious. The Duke stopped and looked.

"We're r-right here behind the hedge," says Mark. "Don't act like you was t-t-talkin' to anybody. Come and sit down with your back ag'in' that l-little mountain-ash tree."

The boy did like Mark said, acting sort of surprised, but not frightened a bit. I guess he had pretty good nerve, because I figger I'd be some scared to have a voice I couldn't see, and wasn't expecting, and didn't know anything about, go ordering me around.

"Be you Rock?" asked Mark.

"Yes. Who are you?"

"I'm Mark Tidd, and Binney Jenks is with me. We came out to talk to you."

"You better not let Jethro see you," says Rock. "What do you want of me?"

"First," says Mark, "we want to git acquainted. And when we're acquainted and you git so you can trust us, then we want to see if there hain't s-somethin' we can do to help you."

"I don't know that I need any help," says Rock, stiff-like.

"If you don't," says Mark, "you're the f-first feller I ever see that didn't. For instance, Rock, wouldn't you l-like to be helped to know what you're here at Wigglesworth's for? Eh? Don't suppose that's been worryin' you any. From what you say Jethro don't want f-folks talkin' to you. Wouldn't you like to know why? Do you know the Man With the Black Gloves? And did you know him and Jethro met on Center Line Bridge l-last night and t-talked you over? Why d'you s'pose they did that?"

"Where do you come in?" says Rock.

"Well," says Mark, "there's a number of r-reasons for my comin' in.

First, I'm in the newspaper b-business, and I want the news. Second, I kind of like m-monkeyin' around with mysteries. It's got to be a habit with me."

"Hum!" says Rock, and sat quiet a spell, sort of thinking it over.

Pretty soon he says: "Well, it can't do any harm if it doesn't do any good. I"-his voice sort of wabbled for a second and I hoped he wasn't going to blubber-"I've been mighty lonesome-almost always."

"That's p-perty rotten, hain't it?" says Mark.

"You'd think so," says Rock, "if you hadn't ever had any folks at all that you knew about, and had lived with folks that kept you just because somebody paid your board, and had been sent off to schools where the fellows thought you were queer because you didn't know anything about yourself and never made friends with you."

"I'll b-bet I would," says Mark in a way he has when he's sorry for anybody. Somehow he manages to make you feel some better right off. "And we-there's f-four of us-would like to be friends with you if you'll let us. Honest. And we'd l-like to help you out. We ain't just s-stickin'

our noses into your business out of curiosity."

"I wish I could get a look at you," says Rock, sort of dubious.

Mark chuckled and nudged me. You could see he liked Rock saying that, and afterward he said to me that right there he made up his mind the strange boy was all right. "He ain't anybody's fool," says he, "and if you go trustin' anybody before you get a good l-look into his eyes, why, then you'll run a fine chance of bein' a fool."

He says to Rock, "Come out and take a l-look, then."

"I da.s.sent," says Rock. "Jethro's watchin' me all the time, and he ordered me not to go outside the hedge nor to speak to any one."

"I b'lieve in orders bein' obeyed when somebody gives 'em that's got the right to," says Mark, "but this Jethro hain't no more right to be b-bossin' you than I have, which hain't any at all."

"I know that," says Rock, "but if he catches me there won't be any fun in it."

"We'll fix it so's he _won't_ catch you," says Mark. "Wait a minute till I think."

He studied over it a minute, and then says to Rock: "Hain't there an arbor back there a c-couple of hunderd feet?"

"Yes," says Rock.

"Does it back right against the hedge?" says Mark.

Rock looked careful and said it did.

"Good," says Mark. "You sort of l-loaf back there slow and like you didn't have anythin' in mind. We'll crawl up along the hedge and b-burrow through. 'Tain't likely we'll be seen in there."

"All right," says Rock, and off he went. Mark watched to see how he did it, and nodded like he was satisfied. "Look," says he to me. "That kid's got b-brains."

Rock did act fine, and not a bit like he had anything on his mind. He just sort of wandered around, but every little bit he managed to get nearer to the arbor. Then he stooped and picked up a stone out of the driveway in front of the house and chucked it at the arbor. Like anybody would, he stopped to see where the stone hit, and then he walked over there slow and poked around the arbor like he was sort of curious to see how it was built.

"Come on," says Mark, and we snaked it on our stummicks till we was right back of the arbor. I poked my head through, and then wiggled through myself. It wasn't so easy for Mark, because a hole that would do for me wouldn't be big enough for one of his legs, but he made it at last, considerable scratched and het up. Then he whistled soft.

In a minute Rock came mooching in, but he didn't come right in. He stopped in the door and looked at it. It wasn't a door, but just a sort of open arch, and he shook the side to see if it was strong, and turned around and looked all over the yard. Then he moved back in as slow as mola.s.ses, until he figgered it was safe to quit acting and look us over.

"h.e.l.lo!" says he.

"I'm Mark Tidd," says Mark, "and this is Binney Jenks."

Rock didn't say anything, but just eyed Mark steady, and then me; finally he stuck out his hand and says, "I like your looks."

"Fine," says Mark, "then everybody's satisfied. I kind of like my looks myself. There's enough of 'em." Mark would joke about his being fat himself, but if anybody else went to trying it they wanted to look out.

"There's this about us," says Mark, "we may not be able to do you any good, but it's s-s-sure we can't do you any harm."

"Whether you do me good or harm," says Rock, "I'm goin' to tie to you.

Just," says he, "for the sake of bein' able to say to myself that I've got some friends."

"Bully for you," says Mark. "Now l-let's get to business. What's your whole name?"

"Roscoe Beaumont," says he.

"How old?"

"Sixteen."