Tom Fairfield's Pluck and Luck Part 27

Tom shook his head. He had a curious disbelief in Sam's guilt.

"Go ahead on that line if you like, Jack," he said. "But I can't agree with you. I'm going to follow my bottle clew to-morrow, and nothing the others could say would make Tom admit that Sam had a hand in poisoning the horses, or in setting the hay on fire.

"But look how ready he was to accuse you," insisted Bert.

"That was only to clear himself," said Tom. "The fact of his sweater being like mine was a strange coincidence, and he had to say something."

"He was ready enough to accuse you," put in Jack. "Say, Tom, old man, why don't you come out and tell us where you went that night--and why?

Tell us what you did--how your sweater got away from you, and was found on the farm. Go ahead!"

"Do!" urged Bert.

But Tom shook his head.

"I can't--not yet," he said. "I promised Ray------"

He stopped suddenly. His chums leaned forward eagerly.

"Well, I can't say any more," he finished. "Now let's forget all this, and have a game of chess, somebody. It will make me sleep good."

"I'm going to cut," said George. "You fellows can play."

Tom and Jack sat down to the royal game, while Bert got out a book, and for a time silence reigned in the apartment.

Tom made an early trip to town the next day. He went directly to the drugstore, the torn label of which was on the bottle he had found to contain a trace of poison.

Without going into details, but announcing who he was, he asked if the druggist could give him any information as to who had bought the cyanide.

"Well, I can look at my records," said the pharmacist. "I keep a list of all persons to whom I sell poison, and make them sign a receipt for it. Of course I have no means of knowing that the names are true ones.

There are some poisons I sell only on a doctor's prescription, but it is not against the local law to dispense cyanide, and it has many legitimate uses. I'll look it up for you."

He disappeared behind his ground-gla.s.s part.i.tion, to return presently, announcing:

"My clerk made that sale. He'll be in presently, and he can tell you who bought the stuff. The name signed is Jacob Crouse, however."

"Jacob Crouse," mused Tom, and he slowly shook his head. Yet there was a gleam of hope in his eyes. "Maybe it isn't him after all."

Tom spent a fretful half hour, waiting for the clerk to come in, and he was nervous lest some of the school lads enter and question him as to his presence in the place. For Tom was not anxious that his errand be known except to his chums. But none from Elmwood Hall came in, and shortly the clerk arrived. There was a whispered conference between him and the proprietor, and the clerk addressed Tom.

"You wish to know who bought cyanide, some time ago?" asked the young man.

"Yes," said Tom. "Can you describe Jacob Crouse?"

"I don't know that he gave me the right name," said the clerk. "In fact I suspect he didn't. But he was a young fellow, about your own age and build."

"He was!" exclaimed Tom, and his voice showed disappointment.

"Yes, but he was not so well dressed. In fact he was rather shabby.

He said he wanted the stuff to kill rats, and asked the best way to prepare it. I tried to sell him some regular rat poison, but he wanted the cyanide. I told him to mix it with corn meal. He said there were lots of rats on his father's farm."

"He said that?" cried Tom.

"Yes. Oh, they make up all sorts of stories when they want to get suspicious stuff, though there's no law here against cyanide. Why, did some one of your friends poison someone, or commit suicide?"

"Oh, not as bad as that," replied Tom. "Is that all you can tell me about this--this person?"

[Transcriber's note: The next piece of text has several missing fragments, which seem to have been caused during printing. I have indicated the missing text with brackets.]

"Well, about all--hold on, though, he had a big scar on--let me see--on his left cheek. It extended from his eye almost to his [missing words]

livid, ugly scar."

[missing line]

[missing words] good! [missing words] I'm much obliged to you, and with a smile of hope our hero hurried from the drug store, followed by the curious glances of the proprietor and the clerk.

CHAPTER XX

MORE SEEKING

Tom Fairfield hurried on back toward Elmwood Hall. His brain was busy with many thoughts. At first he felt a spirit of elation.

"A scar--a big scar," he murmured. "Then it couldn't have been him, unless he got hurt after I saw him. And yet if he had, it was too short a time for a scar to form. The clerk would have said a wound, and not a scar. And yet--oh, I'm not sure after all! It may have been him, and he may have gotten into a fight after he left me. He was desperate. And until I am sure it wasn't him I can't say anything, for mother's sake, as well as his. I can't bring disgrace on her, even though I suffer myself. Oh, hang it all! If I hadn't had that quarrel with Appleby they never would have suspected me, and I wouldn't have had all this trouble."

Poor Tom, hardly knowing what to do, or which way to turn, flung himself down on the couch in his room, and thought deeply. Neither Jack nor Bert was in and the apartment was quiet.

"If I could only reach him," mused Tom, "I could get him to explain, or even come here and clear me. And yet I can't even say I met him, and helped him, on account of my promise, and what saying such a thing would mean. But he might release me from my promise, and even help me to prove my innocence."

Then Tom thought of other things--of how much easier it would be to drop out of school entirely and let matters take their course.

"But I won't!" he exclaimed, sitting up and clenching his fists. "I'm in this fight to stay. I'm going to clear my name and do it in the right way. To leave now would be to do just what Sam h.e.l.ler most wants, and I won't give him that satisfaction. I'll stick!"

Jack and Bert came bursting in, having heard from George that Tom was back.

"Any luck?" asked Jack, for they knew of Tom's trip to the drug store.

"Well, in a way, yes, and yet not. I found out who bought the poison."

"Was it Sam h.e.l.ler?" asked Bert eagerly.

"No," answered Tom. "Haven't I told you that I'm sure he hadn't any hand in it?"

"You wait and see," advised Jack. "I think you're away off, Tom. But say, you want to come out to football practice this afternoon. Strict orders for everyone to be on the job."

"Oh, what's the use?"

"Lots! What's getting into you lately?" asked Bert.