The Grammar School Boys of Gridley Part 12

Now I'm going to buy the football uniforms. How much will they cost--ten dollars apiece?"

"Five or six ought to buy as good uniforms as we'll need," replied d.i.c.k Prescott, reddening. "But, Mrs. Dexter, we don't want----"

"Let me have my own way, won't you?" she pleaded plaintively. "It's such a very new thing for me to be able to have my own way. I'm going to write the check, to-night, to pay for the uniforms. Don't stop me, please don't."

Mrs. Dexter rose and went over to a little desk, where she sat fingering her checkbook.

"Now please give me some idea of what such uniforms cost. I want to do it nicely for you boys. Excuse me just a moment, though."

Mrs. Dexter touched a bell on her desk and the housekeeper entered.

"Jane, when I put Myra to bed this evening, she showed signs of a cough.

I don't want the child to get croupy and not know anything about it.

Just run up and watch Myra, won't you, without waking her? Then come down and let me know, after a few minutes."

The housekeeper started upstairs. Mrs. Dexter returned to the subject of football uniforms, while the three boys, red-faced and reluctant, answered her questions. They appreciated her kindness, but they did not want her to pay for the uniforms. To d.i.c.k and his chums it looked too much like begging.

A shriek sounded upstairs. Then Jane came rushing down.

"Oh, ma'am!" she cried in dismay. "Myra's gone--her bed's empty, and the clothes that she wore have been taken from the chair!"

While Mrs. Dexter turned deathly pale and tottered, d.i.c.k Prescott leaped up, exclaiming:

"It's the work of Dexter. That's the scheme he had!"

CHAPTER VI

ON THE TRAIL OF THE CAB

"The wretch has stolen Myra! I didn't I think he would dare do that,"

cried the woman.

Mrs. Dexter had never made any effort to secure a divorce from her worthless husband. After he had abandoned her she had appeared in court and had had herself appointed sole guardian and custodian of little Myra. Under the law, therefore, Dexter, if he stole Myra away from the mother, could be arrested and punished for abduction.

At this frantic moment, however, Mrs. Dexter was not thinking of punishments. All she wanted was to get her child back in her own keeping.

"Isn't it possible there's a mistake?" demanded Greg of the dismayed housekeeper. "The little one may have gotten up out of bed. She may be in some other part of the house."

"Not much!" interjected the housekeeper. "The child's jacket and coat are gone from a hook near by."

After the first moment of fright Mrs. Dexter had raced upstairs; now she came down again.

"Myra's really gone," she cried, sobbing. "And no one but Dexter would think of stealing her from me. He has done it for spite--or as the means of extorting more money from me."

"A man could hardly go through the streets carrying a child that didn't want to be carried. The child could cry out and attract attention,"

guessed d.i.c.k.

"Myra wouldn't cry out. She would be cowed by her father's threats. She always was afraid of him," wailed Mrs. Dexter.

"Are you going to appeal to the police?" d.i.c.k asked.

"I--I must."

"Then you're losing time, Mrs. Dexter--and there's your telephone. We boys will go out into the streets and see if we can find any trace--pick up any word. When we came along there was a cab standing in front of the Grahams. But I suppose that cab belonged to some of their visitors."

"The Grahams have been out of town for the last few days," broke in Mrs.

Dexter. "There has been no one at their house, except one old man who acts as care-taker."

"Then Dexter may have had that cab waiting for him," flashed young Prescott. "Come along, fellows! Let's see what we can find out."

Dave and Greg were at the street door ahead of their young leader. None of the boys paused longer, for Mrs. Dexter was already at her telephone.

Out in the street the three Grammar School lads raced along the sidewalk until they reached the house of the Graham family. The cab was gone.

"We can find that cab anywhere," declared d.i.c.k. "Any one else would recognize it. It had one brown, or dark horse, and one gray horse."

"I didn't notice the driver," stated Darrin.

"He was sitting inside the cab," spoke up Greg. "I didn't get a good look at him, either."

"Going to race on into Main Street?" asked Dave, as the three came to a street corner.

"Dexter would hardly drive right into the clutches of the police, would he?" pondered Prescott. "No; I think it'll turn out that he went the opposite way, out of town."

Saying this, d.i.c.k headed for the outskirts of Gridley, still keeping along at a dog-trot. Dave and Greg didn't talk now; they were husbanding their store of "wind."

After a short time all three boys had to slow down to a walk. That "pain in the side," which seizes all boys who try to run far without training and practice, had caught them. Still, they moved along as fast as they could go.

"Excuse me, mister," hailed d.i.c.k, halting the first man they met, who came strolling toward them, smoking a pipe, "have you seen a cab go by?"

"Yes."

"Oldish cab?" broke in Dave.

"One gray horse and one dark or brown?" breathed Greg.

"Yep."

"How long ago?" asked all three.

"'Bout two minutes ago. Why?"

"Which way did it go?" breathed d.i.c.k anxiously.

"Why, the driver stopped me," explained the man, taking out his pipe, "and asked if there was a drug store ahead in this part of the town. I told him he'd find one on the next block, around the next corner to the left. So----"