Chapter 8 OWEN DUGDALE'S ANNOUNCEMENT

Another week of school had commenced, with winter now in full swing.

The weather seemed to have settled down to show what it could do, after such a long delay. It was making up for lost time, some of the boys declared. But then it could hardly be too cold for fellows warmly dressed, and who had their three hearty meals a day. The poor might complain, because they suffered, especially when such spells were prolonged.

Deacon Winslow was seen in town more frequently than usual, he leaving the work to the charge of his assistant for an hour or so at a time. He always carried a big basket in his wagon or sleigh; and those who knew his warm heart could easily understand that his visits were wholly at homes where there was none too much in the way of comforts and food.

During the earlier days of the week the talk was pretty much of winter sports. Ice hockey occupied a prominent place in the conversations that were carried on wherever three or more Scranton High fellows clustered, to kick their heels on the pavement, or sun themselves while perched on the top of the campus fence that would go down in history as the peer of the famous one at Yale.

During afternoons the hockey players gathered at the park, and each day saw them engaging in some sort of practice game,-their opponents being such fellows as could be gathered together to constitute a fair Seven.

Hugh seemed satisfied with the progress made, and Mr. Leonard, too, looked as if he felt well repaid for the trouble he was taking showing them certain clever moves that might reward them in a fiercely contested match.

Meanwhile the mystery concerning that robbery at Paul Kramer's Emporium had not yet been wholly solved. Leon Disney still languished in the lock-up at Police Headquarters, his folks having been unable to secure bail for him. They could not raise the amount themselves, and somehow there seemed to be no person in the whole community philanthropical enough to take chances with Leon, who was reckoned an exceedingly slippery individual, who would most likely run away before his trial came off, leaving his bondsman to "hold the bag," as the boys called it.

He was just as stubborn as ever in his denial of complicity in the robbery. Leon doubtless believed that a lie well stuck to was bound to raise up friends. There are always well disposed people whose sympathies are apt to be aroused when they hear of a case like this.

But Leon was not being held on circumstantial evidence. He had been caught "with the goods on him." All that loot hidden under the old barn on his place was positive proof of his guilt. Still he held out, and declared himself the victim of some base plot calculated to ruin his reputation; which was rather a queer thing for Leon to say, since the only reputation he had in Scranton was for badness.

Another thing was that he still declined to betray his pal, for everyone felt positive he had had company when foraging through the cases in Paul Kramer's establishment, taking such things as naturally appeal to a boy's heart-candy, cigarettes, revolvers and sporting goods.

Chief Wambold suspected one boy from the start, after finding that the former chief offender in these lines could prove a positive alibi. This was the third of the bad lot, Tip Slavin.

He had even gone to Tip's humble home and made a thorough search, high and low, but without the least success. If Tip were guilty he must have been smarter than his confederate, who had hidden his share of the plunder under the loose boards of the floor of his folks' barn.

Not having any evidence beyond suspicion the officer did not dare arrest Tip, who continued to loaf about his customary corners and look impudently at every fellow who stared meaningly at him when passing. Hugh himself never once doubted the guilt of Tip Slavin; though he fancied the authorities might have a hard time catching him, unless the stubborn Leon at the last, finding himself on the way to the Reform School, confessed, and implicated his companion.

He and Thad were talking about that very same thing on Thursday afternoon while on the way home from the park a little earlier than usual.

"Where do you think that sly Tip could have hidden the stuff, Hugh?"

Thad asked, continuing their conversation.

"Oh! there would be plenty of places, and no one likely to ever run across it, on one condition," replied the other.

"What might that be?" demanded Thad.

"If only Tip could himself keep away from his cache," he was told. "That may be his undoing, after all. You know, when an ordinary thief has done something big, and is being looked for, the smart police always ask whether he has a wife or a sweetheart; because they know that sooner or later he is bound to communicate with such a person, and so a clue may be found to his hiding-place. Well, Tip's heart will be located where his treasure is. He'll soon get a yearning to indulge in some of the candy and cigarettes he's got hidden away."

"Then if Chief Wambold knew his duty," snapped Thad vigorously, "he'd keep tabs of Tip day and night, and shadow him wherever he went."

"That would be his best move," agreed Hugh.

"You ought to post the Chief on that same sort of clever job, Hugh."

"Well, I did think of that," admitted the other boy, "but somehow I hated to have a hand in railroading Tip to the Reformatory. It's true he ought to be there, for he's a terror to the whole community; but he's got a mother, Thad, and I'd hate to see her swollen eyes, and remember that I'd had a hand in parting her from her boy. It isn't as if I were paid for doing such things, as Chief Wambold is; this is hardly any business of mine, you know, and I've concluded to keep my hands off."

"Well, now, somehow I don't just look at it the way you do, Hugh. Perhaps I'm not quite so tender-hearted as you are. It may be the best thing that ever happened to Tip if he is sent to the Reform School before he plunges any deeper into the mire of crime. Plenty of boys have become fine men after being sent there, to be taught what it should have been the duty of their careless or incompetent parents to put into their heads."

"Do you mean that you might take a notion to drop a hint to the

Chief, Thad?"

"I'll think it over, and decide later," the other told him. "Perhaps I'll ask advice of Dominie Pettigrew, who's a good friend of mine, and would tell me what my duty was, not only to Tip, but to the community at large, which he had so flagrantly abused time and again."

"Suit yourself about that, Thad. Perhaps, after all, you may be right, and that it would be a good thing all around if Tip could be sent away with Leon. But it's likely Leon will weaken when his trial comes off, and betray his pal; though he may give Tip a hint beforehand so he can clear out in time."

"And about Nick Lang?" continued Thad.

"I haven't changed my mind about him, as yet," Hugh replied sturdily enough. "So far Nick seems to be minding his own business, and having as little to do with other boys as possible. I heard Dr. Carmack say he was astonished at the difference in Nick's work in classes. He seemed particularly pleased, too, because, with all the other teachers, he's had a hard time with Nick in the past."

"But in all the days we've practiced our hockey work Nick hasn't once joined the scrub team we've fought against. That's why we've been able to lick them so easily, I guess, Hugh. That fellow certainly is a wizard on runners, and would make a good addition to our Seven, if by some chance he could be squeezed in. But one of the Regulars would have to be dropped, and I think there would be some bad blood shown if anyone had to give way to a fellow who's had such a bad reputation in the past. Even now lots of people think he's only shamming reform for some deep purpose."

"Lots of people are due for a surprise, then, let me tell you," said Hugh. "But, of course, just as you say, I wouldn't dare take any fellow out as long as he was working his best, and substituting Nick. It would raise a howl, to be sure. But, Thad, if the time should ever come when we're up against a hard proposition, with defeat staring us in the face, and one of our team was injured, I'd grab at Nick like a drowning man does at a plank floating near."

"One lucky thing happened for us, Hugh, anyhow."

"You're referring to the toss of the coin that gave us the choice of grounds for the game, and will force Keyport to journey over here on Saturday, eh, Thad?"

"Yes, that's what I had in mind. Captain Mossman seemed to be a pretty fine sort of chap, too, I thought, when he dropped in on us yesterday afternoon to look the place over; because it seems he's never played before in Scranton."

"Well, Scranton was hardly on the map until this year," Hugh laughed.

"However, some of our neighboring towns have already learned that

Scranton is alive and wide-awake."

"Just what they have, Hugh, and there are other surprises coming for them, too. I noticed that you cut out all play while the Keyport chap was with us. Didn't want him to get a line on our methods, I suppose?"

"It might give them a little advantage, you see, and weaken our play. Some of the Scranton boys have gone over to Keyport to see what's doing there. They bring back great reports of the confidence shown in the team; but Coach Leonard has positively forbidden any member of our Seven to make the trip. He says it smacks too much of spying to please him."

"Oh! that's drawing the line pretty tight, Hugh. Lots of players in the baseball world try their level best to get a line on a pitcher who is going to oppose them, and consider it legitimate enough."

"Well, they are professionals, to begin with," said the other; "and business is business with them. But, right or wrong, there's going to be no spying on our part, so long as Mr. Leonard has charge of the athletic end of the game at Scranton. You can depend on that every time."

"There's Owen now; he wasn't at practice this afternoon, I wonder

why?" exclaimed Thad, as they sighted another boy coming toward them.

"He looks as if he might be bursting with some sort of news, Hugh.

Now I wonder what he's run up against."

Owen quickly arrived. His face did have an eager look, and his eyes were fairly dancing with some sort of emotion.

"Hugh, I've got something to tell you!" he burst out with, at which Thad shot a knowing glance toward his chum, which said as plain as could be: "There, what did I say to you?"

"All right, Owen, relieve yourself of the load right away, before you burst," Hugh went on to advise, in his pleasant fashion.

"It's about a certain chap who's under suspicion right now of having been implicated in that breaking into the Kramer store and robbing it."

"Tip Slavin, you mean, Owen?" asked Hugh, looking interested at once.

"Yes, no other, Hugh. Well, I've discovered beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is the guilty partner of Leon Disney, just as everybody suspected!"