The Chums of Scranton High Part 16

"Ah! quite a charming specimen of Old English silver workmanship, and I must say it is exceedingly handsome; but it represents a city in which I never happened to set foot," with which she handed the spoon back to Thad, who almost dropped it to the floor, such was his sudden sensation of intense relief.

CHAPTER XIX

HUGH REACHES HIS GOAL

Thad Stevens looked as though any one could knock him down with a feather. The astonishing fact that the old lady who made a fad of collecting souvenir spoons, had failed to recognize the one which he had purloined from Owen's den "struck him all in a heap," as he afterwards expressed it. Why, that would seem to indicate Owen must be entirely innocent, so far as proof went.

Hugh, on his part, was quicker to recover. Although he felt a spasm of sincere satisfaction pa.s.s through him at the result of his chum's test, at the same time he realized that there was no necessity for making "mountains out of molehills."

Madame Pangborn had instantly surmised that there was more connected with that odd little silver spoon than she had as yet grasped. Indeed, having good eyesight, she could hardly have failed to notice the strange actions of Thad.

"Tell me what it all means, please, Thad," she besought him; "for I am certain you must have some deeper motive in fetching that souvenir spoon to show me than appears on the surface. Don't you think I am ent.i.tled to your full confidence?"

"Indeed you are," said Hugh, quickly, "and you shall hear the whole story. Both of us are right now tingling with satisfaction and delight because our worst fears have proved ungrounded."

Then he went on to explain just how Thad had by accident become a temporary guest under the roof of the Rookery, after having helped old Mr. Dugdale to the house when he was seized with a sudden attack of sciatica in one of his lower limbs. It did not take Hugh, with an occasional sentence of explanation from his eager chum, who wanted to be set right in the eyes of the good madame, long to tell how Thad chanced to discover the spoon among many other things in Owen's "den,"

and what a host of fears its presence there had aroused in their b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Then he reached the point in his narrative where Thad conceived the bold idea of appropriating the spoon during Owen's absence, and letting the old lady see the same, knowing full well that if she recognized it as one of her missing souvenir mementoes, the case would look exceedingly dark for Owen.

Madame Pangborn's face took on a radiant look after she had learned all.

"I have never been able to believe that boy could be guilty of such an atrocious deed," she hastened to say, emphatically. "I flatter myself that I can read boys as well as any one, and in his eyes there lies only truth, and an ardent desire to accomplish great things that have long been burning in his soul. But, nevertheless, the circ.u.mstantial evidence was so strong that it has caused me some sleepless nights.

Now I know Owen is innocent, I shall be satisfied. I would sooner lose all my spoons ten times over than find that he had yielded to a sudden and irresistible temptation."

"But," said Thad, in sore perplexity, "the three spoons are gone, there's no doubt about that; and if Owen didn't take them who did?"

"Please let the matter drop," expostulated the old lady, hastily. "I am satisfied to know the boy is innocent. I shall immediately put the rest of my spoons away, so that they may not tempt any one again."

"But it wouldn't be right to give the hunt up so easily as that, you know, lady," complained Thad. "We've started in to find the thief, and our motto is never to turn back once we've put our hands to the plough.

Hugh, don't you say the same?"

"I certainly do," affirmed the other boy. "And while about it, perhaps I ought to tell Mrs. Pangborn how I at one time even began to imagine the thief was a thing of green and yellow feathers, and a hooked bill, otherwise known as Pretty Polly."

At that, the old lady seemed highly interested.

"Oh! such a thought never occurred to me, Hugh!" she hastily exclaimed.

"Could it be possible, do you think?" and she glanced apprehensively toward the corner of the library, where the handsome and intelligent parrot sat on her perch, chained by the leg, and with her yellow-crowned head turned on one side as though she might be listening to all that was being said.

"It is a bare possibility," Hugh went on to say. "A whole lot would depend on whether Polly chanced to get free during those particular days when the spoons disappeared. As to whether a bird like that would carry away such things, and hide them, there's lots of accounts of such things happening. I'll tell you of a few instances I've read about, and every one was vouched for as absolutely true in the bargain."

So for some little time he amused and interested the old lady with accounts of strange things various species of pet birds, from rooks and ravens, all the way to talking parrots, had been guilty, in the way of stealing bright articles of jewelry, and trinkets that seemed to have caught their fancy, hiding them away in some cranny or nook, where the whole collection was afterwards found.

"I may have read something along those lines myself at some time or other, Hugh," she told him, as he concluded, "but it slipped my mind.

Whether Polly is guilty of petty larceny or not, after this, I shall be more careful than ever about keeping her fast to her perch by that long chain. There is no telling what a wise old bird of her nature might not attempt, given freedom. I sometimes think she has a little devil in her, when she says something wonderful, and looks so droll. But you have given me a very happy half hour, for which I thank you both."

Thad kept glancing toward Hugh as though he was puzzled as to what further action his chum meant to take in the case. For accustomed to reading the expression on Hugh's face, he seemed to realize that the other had some "card up his sleeve" which he meant to play.

"Hadn't we better be going, Hugh?" he now asked.

"Right away," came the reply, "for it's getting near six o'clock, and Mrs. Pangborn will be having her tea soon."

"I do have it a little earlier on Sunday, because I allow Sarah to go home," admitted the old lady. "She is a great hand to attend church, you know, and I believe sings in the choir like a lark. I often hear her practicing down in the kitchen while cooking dinner. But I'd be delighted if you boys could stay and take a bite with me."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Hugh, "another time we'd be only too glad to accept your invitation; but I must be home tonight. What time do you suppose Sarah would be at her house? I want to see her about her little shaver Brutus, and find out if his ducking did him any harm, and thought I'd walk around later in the evening."

"You are apt to find Sarah at home up to a quarter of eight. After that she will be in her place in the colored church," he was told.

Then the boys took their leave. On the way home, Thad expressed some curiosity concerning the visit Hugh proposed making to Sarah's home.

"Do you really think that boy might come down with pneumonia, or something like that on account of being in the water, Hugh?" he asked, at which the other smiled mysteriously and replied:

"Oh! the water is still pretty chilly, you know, Thad; and the child was so terribly frightened that he might feel the result of his immersion, even if we did make a fire, and dry his clothes well.

Besides, I've dropped my pocket knife, and I've a little idea it was while we looked through that playhouse of Brutus'. But suppose you stop asking questions, and agree to accompany me when I make my little call on Sarah this evening?"

"Oh! all right, Hugh, I'll go with you," complained Thad, "but I know as well as anything you've got some queer notion back of it all, which you don't mean to share with me. But remember that Madame Pangborn told you she would trust Sarah with her purse or her life, she has such confidence in the woman."

"I haven't forgotten," said Hugh, quietly. "I know what I'm doing.

You show up around seven or a quarter after, and we'll take a little walk. Perhaps we might pick up a few facts worth while before we come back; stranger things have happened than that, Thad."

"You are the limit," laughed the other, as he swung aside and headed for his own house, doubtless to ponder over the mysterious words of Hugh many times while eating his supper on that Sunday evening.

It was just dark as he started across lots toward Hugh's home; for there was a short-cut which they frequently made use of--trust boys for cutting off corners whenever it is possible, even if they have to vault fences in order to reduce distances.

All the way out to the colored settlement, Hugh kept up an unusually lively flow of talk. He knew Thad was fairly itching to ask questions, and apparently Hugh did not mean to let him have a chance.

So they finally entered among the humble cottages and cabins where Scranton's colored population lived. Children were running about the streets shouting in play, even as the first peal of the cracked bell in the little church near by began to sound.

Sarah was at home. She seemed surprised to see the two white boys.

"How's little Brutus, Sarah?" asked Hugh.

"Oh! he's all hunky-dory, suh, 'deed an' he is," she replied with a smile. "I done jest gib him his supper, and chucked de chile in his bed. An' I ain't put a hand on him neither. Jes' as yuh sez he done hab a lesson; but I tells him if he ebber goes to dat ere mill-pond agin I lays fo' him, and makes him smart like fun."

"I'm sorry to trouble you, Sarah, but I've dropped my knife somewhere, and remembered having taken it out of my pocket when you were showing us Brutus' playhouse. Would you mind getting a lamp, and going back there just to take a look around. I value that knife a lot, and would hate to lose it. We won't keep you from church more than a few minutes at most."

"Sure I will, suh. I'd do a thousand times as much fo' de white boys as sabed my baby fo' me dis berry day."

She quickly secured a lamp, and led the way back in the yard. Thad was beginning to show signs of nervousness. He realized that Hugh must be playing some sort of a game, and yet strange to say he was unable to fathom it.

Arriving at the old cabin used partly as a wash-house, and with the rear devoted to Brutus' "playthings," they entered. Sarah held the lamp while Hugh started to scan the floor earnestly, moving around as he looked.

All at once he stooped and picked something up.

"Well, I was right in believing I dropped my knife in here, for you see, I've found it again. Why, what's this?"