The Chums of Scranton High out for the Pennant Part 2

"Mr. Hosmer is really sick," explained the boy; "and there's no humbug about his ailment, either. I heard the doctor tell my mother that it was partly due to a lack of substantial food for years.

You see, the woman herself was ill for a long time, and her husband worked himself to skin and bone trying to provide for her. Then she got over her trouble, and now it's his turn to go under. He has tried to work a number of times, but fainted at his bench in the shop from sheer weakness."

"Gee! I'm sorry to hear that," muttered the other, shrugging his broad shoulders as he spoke, and shaking his head from side to side, as though he feared some hope he had been cherishing was on the point of vanishing. "But then mebbe Andrew he may get better again, and be able to work at his trade, because if I really got consumption there ain't any chance for me to be doin' in this world."

Thad showed signs of growing angry, but pinched his arm, and muttered in his ear:

"Just hold your horses, Thad. We can't stop him, if he's set on seeing his sister, you know. And besides, perhaps they'll turn him away from the door. He's a queer sort of a chap, and I just can't quite make out whether he's a scamp or a big joke. Let's keep quiet, and see which way the cat jumps."

Thad heaved a sigh, but did not say anything to the tramp that he may have had in his mind, and which possibly Wandering Lu might have resented. The man had continued his meal and was in something of a reflective frame of mind apparently. Hugh supposed he was wondering what he was going to do after coming so far in hopes of finding a snug nest for the remainder of his idle days, and meeting with a possible disappointment.

"Say, young fellers, I'm going to ask a favor of you," he suddenly remarked, as he brushed the back of his hand across his mouth, signifying that he had finished his meal, and did this in lieu of using a napkin.

"What is it you want?" asked Thad, a bit ungraciously, it must be confessed.

"Of course, you know just where Matilda lives in Scranton," observed the man, insidiously; "and mebbe now you wouldn't mind if I walked along with so you point out her home to me when we get near it?"

"Ought we do it, Hugh?" flashed Thad, turning toward his chum.

"What's the harm?" asked the other, instantly. "He can soon find it by asking at some house, whether we help him or not. Why, yes, we'll accommodate you, Lu; but I wouldn't be too hopeful if I were you, about their asking you to stay over, because the times are out of joint nowadays, food getting higher every day, and money hard to pick up, since Uncle Sam's just jumped into the big war game."

"But my sister Matilda she always did have a tender heart, and wouldn't see a poor stray cat go hungry if so be she had a bite of food,"

the tramp went on to say in the most unblushing way possible. "Unless she's changed a heap she'll let me stay a while with her anyhow.

Mebbe I'll pick up some if I get good care, and can go on the road again if the worst comes. But I'm much obliged to you for saying as how you'd show me her humble home. It'll be mighty fine for a poor old rolling stone like me to get under the roof of a blood relative, which ain't been my luck for over twenty years."

He hastened to gather his scanty belongings together. When the pack was complete be slung it across his back, and gave Hugh a nod.

Somehow even this tramp seemed to understand that Hugh Morgan was the leader among his mates; perhaps it was his expression of firmness that told the story, for there was certainly nothing of the "boss"

air about the boy to indicate as much.

"I'm all ready, if you are, younkers," the tramp said.

"Then we'll be off," remarked Hugh, Putting his words into action.

Thad began to wonder what any of their acquaintances would say should they happen to see them in company with Wandering Lu. The tramp looked so utterly disreputable that Thad disliked being discovered with him; and yet Hugh, who looked deeper than his companion, was surprised to notice that this dirt had the appearance of being rather new and fresh. The fact caused him to take further notice of the man, about whom he felt there rested quite a little air of mystery.

As they walked along the road headed for town, Thad's curiosity got the better of his dislike and suspicion.

"In all this twenty years of knocking about, ail over the world, as you claim, I suppose now there have been times when you've struck pay dirt--what I mean is that I sort of think you haven't always been what you are now, just a tramp? How about that, Wandering Lu?"

"What, me?" chuckled the other. "Say, I've dug gold in Alaska, hunted pearls down near Ceylon, been at work in the diamond fields out in South Africa, and in lots of other places in the world took my turn at playing for high stakes with old Dame Fortune. Why, younkers, I've had fortunes several times, and let the same slip out of my hands. Some time, mebbe, if so be, I conclude to stay around this section of country, which pleases me a heap as far as I've seen the same, why I'd like to spin you a yarn or two that'd make your eyes look as big as them there individual b.u.t.ter plates they use in restaurants. I've run up against heaps and heaps of queer adventures. In fact, it's a wonder I didn't die long ago with my boots on. That's what peeves me, to think a feller who's been so close to death by violence so many times should after all be snuffed out with the pesky con."

Then he had another spell of violent coughing that quite aroused the sympathy of Thad afresh, while Hugh observed and took note.

According to his mind, these fits of near strangulation were almost too methodical to be genuine; still, he did not wish to condemn any one without positive proof, though laboring under the impression that the said Lu could not be as far gone as he tried to make them believe.

Presently they arrived in the environs of Scranton. The boys went out of their way to accommodate their disreputable looking companion, for they would have struck across by another street if going home direct.

"Mrs. Hosmer lives in that small cottage ahead of us," Hugh was saying, pointing as he spoke.

The tramp stared, and nodded his head.

"Looks right neat, accordin' to my notion," he said. "Matilda was always a great hand for keeping things clean. Now, I rather reckon I'll like this place a heap."

Thad burned with fresh indignation to hear him so coolly signify his intention of burdening the already hard pressed sister with his keep.

"Oh! is that so?" he snorted, "then I kind of think you'll have to get a move on you, Wandering Lu, and remove a few pounds of superfluous earth from your face and hands."

The man did not show any sign of being offended at this attack; simply looked at his hands, and grinned as he remarked:

"Reckon that I will, younker; but then soap is cheap, and I wouldn't want to soil Matilda's clean sheets and towels. Yes, if I'm going to become domesticated and give up all this roving business I suppose I'll just have to clean up a bit. Wonder now if Andrew he would have an extra suit of clothes he could turn over to me. I'd sure hate to make my poor sister blush to introduce her brother looking as tough as I do just now."

"There's Mrs. Hosmer coming along the street," said Hugh at that juncture. "She's got a bundle with her, so I expect she's been getting more sewing to do from your mother or mine, Thad. And that's Mr. Hosmer just opened the door to let her in. He's been watching for her, no doubt, because they say he's always been a mighty good husband, and it nearly kills him to see her working so hard while he keeps on being too weak to be at his trade. We'll meet her at the door."

They walked along, and stopped just as the good woman came up. Mrs.

Hosmer had snow-white hair, and a most amiable countenance. Every one who knew her understood that the poor woman possessed a big heart, and would share her last crust with a hungry man or child.

Thad, gritting his teeth at what he antic.i.p.ated he would see, watched the meeting. Hugh answered her pleasant greeting by saying:

"We chanced to come across a man who was inquiring for you, Mrs.

Hosmer, and as he asked us to show him where you lived we have fetched him along. He can speak for himself now."

The woman turned to look at the tramp. Up to then she had hardly noticed him, but now something seemed to stir within her bosom.

They saw her start, and bending, look more closely, at the same time turning paler than usual.

"Oh! who can it be?" she said, weakly. "I seem to see something familiar about the figure, and the face, but it's impossible, for my brother Lu has long been dead."

"That's where you're mistaken, Matilda, because I'm that same Luther Corbley, and still alive and in the flesh, though pretty far gone, I'm afraid," and he acted as if about to start into one of his hysterical coughing spells, then thought better of it, because Matilda was rushing toward him, dropping her bundle as she came.

Paying no attention to his soiled and ragged clothes, the good woman threw her arms about the neck of her long-lost brother, and actually kissed him again and again on his rough cheek. Hugh, watching closely, could see the man a.s.sume a pleased look, and once he thought he caught Wandering Lu actually winking his left eye in his direction, as though to say: "You see, she never will let me die on the road!"

CHAPTER IV

THE BARNACLE THAT CAME TO STAY

The man in the doorway, Andrew Hosmer, had watched this remarkable scene with a variety of emotions. He realized that something in the nature of a calamity had come upon them, for if his poor, hard-working wife had found it difficult, even with the generous help of good friends in Scranton, to provide food for the two of them, however could she manage to add still another to the household, and feed a third mouth?

Still, this man was undoubtedly Luther Corbley, the brother of whom she had so often talked, and who was believed to be long since dead, because he led such an adventurous life. And surely they could not be so inhuman as to deny him at least temporary shelter, and a share of their slender meals.

So, greatly to the disgust of Thad in particular, Mr. Hosmer now came forward to offer his hand to the tramp, who took it eagerly. The look on Brother Lu's face impressed Hugh as one of strange import.

He could not make it out at all, and even found himself vaguely wondering whether this man might not after all be some sort of artful impostor, who, having learned about the lost brother, chose to play the part simply to be well taken care of for a time.

But then surely Matilda would soon be able to tell, when she got to talking of their childhood days. A thousand things were apt to come up, and even a cunning schemer could not help betraying his vast ignorance along such lines.

About this time Brother Lu seemed to have one of his periodical outbursts of violent coughing. Indeed, he rather outdid himself on this occasion, as though determined to make a good showing before his newly-found relatives, and thus enlist their full-fledged sympathy in the start.

Matilda seemed fairly shocked as he strained, and writhed, and almost burst a blood vessel with his efforts. Thad stood and watched, his lip curling as though he could no longer be deceived. To him the whole thing was now very much in the nature of a fraud, a delusion, and a snare. He did not doubt the ident.i.ty of Brother Lu, but as to the genuine nature of his malady, that was another question entirely, and Thad could not be impressed again. He fully believed the man was faking sickness just to gain the sympathy of these simple people, and work out the game he had in view, which Thad was convinced was to make a snug nest for himself during the rest of the summer, perhaps for all time.