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The High School Boys in Summer Camp, a fiction by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 2. Dick And Some High Finance |
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_ CHAPTER II. DICK AND SOME HIGH FINANCE "I feel like a fellow without any manners," complained Dave Darrin. "What have you done now?" asked Greg, coming out of his million-dollar trance. "It's what I haven't done," Darry answered. "It's also what none of us have done. We haven't thanked our very pleasant, even if slightly erratic, host for his entertainment." "We can't very well butt in," declared Reade, glancing down the street. "Hibbert and his kee---I mean, his friend---are still talking earnestly. I wonder if they lock poor Hibbert up part of the time?" Colquitt and young Mr. Hibbert had now turned in at the Eagle Hotel. Dave glanced at his watch, remarking: "Fellows, it's ten minutes after six. Those of you who want any supper will do well to hurry home." "I'm certain that I can't eat a bit of supper," declared Hazelton, looking almost alarmed. "I've eaten so much of that cream and cantaloupe that I haven't a cubic inch of space left for anything else." Nevertheless the high school boys parted, going their various directions, after having agreed to meet by seven o'clock. All wanted to be on hand when Prescott got back to town. After supper Greg had not been out of the house five minutes when Mr. Hibbert appeared at the gate of the Holmes cottage, and passed inside. The caller inquired for Greg's father, met that gentleman, and the two remained in private conversation for some five minutes. Ere the first minute was over, however, Greg's father might have been heard, from the sidewalk, laughing uproariously. Finally Mrs. Holmes was called into the conference. She came forth again, looking somewhat amused. From that meeting Hibbert went back to Main Street, where he fell in with Tom Colquitt. "Are you satisfied, now?" demanded the latter. "I'm puzzled," replied Hibbert, with the air and tone of a man who hates to give up a delusion. Colquitt and Hibbert had not gone a block and a half ere they encountered Dave, Tom and the others, only Dick being absent from the gathering of the chums. Curiously, too, the meeting took place before the same ice cream shop. "Just in time to have some more cream, boys," suggested young Mr. Hibbert. "And we'd enjoy it, too, thank you," responded Tom courteously, "but there is a point, sir, past which it would be imposition to go. So we are going to content ourselves with enjoying a very pleasant recollection of the good time we had with you this afternoon." "Better come inside with us," urged Mr. Colquitt. "I notice a table, away over in the corner, where we can be by ourselves. You see, boys, after what Hibbert said to one of your number this afternoon, we feel that an explanation is due to you. We can explain inside much better than we could on a street corner." That crowbar of curiosity wedged the boys away from their fear that they were accepting too much from strangers. So they followed their mysterious conductors inside. Young Mr. Hibbert ordered ices similar to those that had been enjoyed that afternoon. Then Mr. Colquitt, with a brisk air, began: "Concerning that suspicion that young Holmes might be the missing heir to a large sum of money, I'll tell you how Mr. Hibbert got his idea." Then, as though fearing that he had made too great a promise, Mr. Colquitt paused. "It's this way," he went on, at last. "Many years ago there was a railway wreck in this part of the state. A good many passengers were killed. Among them was the wife of a wealthy man. The husband escaped with his life, but he was so badly hurt that, for a year or so, his mind suffered. He had to be taken abroad. There were a few babies among those killed in the wreck, and the infant son of the couple was supposed to be one of them. The father is now well and healthy, but a very lonely man. Within the last few weeks this father has had some reason to believe that his son didn't perish in the wreck, but that other people, believing both parents had been killed, took charge of the infant. "That is all," continued Mr. Colquitt, "except that the missing infant had a small v-shaped nick on the outer edge of his right ear. Probably with the boy's growth, if he is still alive, the nick has become so small as to be barely noticeable, like the nick in Holmes' right ear. Mr. Hibbert came to Gridley only yesterday, and it happened that one of the first young men he saw, close to the hotel, was young Holmes. Rather by chance Hibbert saw that very small nick, that usually would escape notice. In great excitement Hibbert telegraphed the anxious father, and the father wired Blinders' detective agency, which sent me down to Gridley." "It isn't possible that Greg can be the missing son," breathed Tom Reade incredulously. "He isn't," declared Tom Colquitt promptly. "I made sure of that very soon after I reached town to-day. First of all, I found out the name of the family physician, Dr. Bentley. I saw that gentleman, and he assured me he knew that young Holmes was the son of Mr. and Mrs. Holmes, for Dr. Bentley told me that he signed young Greg's birth certificate. That was proof enough, but I also saw Mr. and Mrs. Holmes, a few minutes ago. The missing son of the wealthy man in question had two other marks on his body that would identify him." "What are those marks?" asked Dave Darrin deeply interested. Tom Colquitt hesitated, glancing at young Mr. Hibbert. "Tell 'em," nodded the young man of the four-quart hat. "The young man we are seeking," replied the detective, "will have a brownish mole over his right shoulder blade and a reddish mark to the left of his breast bone. The boy was born with those marks. The nick in his ear resulted from an accident when the nurse was handling the child." "We'll find the youngster for you," promised Danny Grin lightly. "And is Mr. Hibbert a detective, too?" asked Tom Reade. "No," replied Colquitt, with great promptness, while Mr. Hibbert, grinning sheepishly, added: "I haven't brains enough for that, I guess. But, Master Holmes, please tell me, to satisfy my last doubt. Have you any such marks as Mr. Colquitt has described?" "I never noticed such marks on myself," Greg replied. "He hasn't them," Dave interjected, "or the rest of us would have noticed the marks when we've been in swimming." "Then your last idea that Gregory Holmes is the missing young man must vanish now, my dear Mr. Hibbert," smiled Mr. Colquitt. "I'm vanquished," confessed Alonzo Hibbert, with a sigh. "I'm no good at anything. I wouldn't even make a detective." "I must leave you now," suggested Mr. Colquitt, rising. "I must wire to---er---to my client. Poor man, he will be greatly disappointed." As the detective rose and passed outside Hazelton leaned over to murmur to young Holmes: "Don't you wish it had turned out that you were the million-dollar kid?" "Not if I had to give up my father and mother," Greg replied, with great promptness. "I seem to be a fool at everything," sighed Alonzo Hibbert in disgust. "No; I would say, sir," suggested Tom Reade, "that you made the mistake of proceeding on one sign, instead of looking for all three." "Have another ice!" urged Mr. Hibbert, brightening at once. "You have set me straight. I wasn't a fool, after all---merely too swift" But the boys shook their heads as they murmured their thanks. So they were about to rise when a voice called cheerily behind them: "Stay where you are, fellows. We'll have an ice cream all around." "Dick!" cried five eager voices at once, as Prescott came smilingly to join them. Then their eyes all framed the same question, which their lips refused to utter. "Did you sell the canoe?" As Dick glanced inquiringly at young Mr. Hibbert, Dave Darrin presented him. Dick also learned that Hibbert had been a willing host to five of the chums. "Now, you'll turn about and eat an ice cream with us, won't you, Mr. Hibbert?" urged young Prescott. This the young man consented to do, though, as soon as the dainty had been disposed of, he begged to be excused that he might go and have further talk with Tom Colquitt. "You sold the canoe, I think, Dick?" said Tom, as soon as their late host had left them. "Yes," beamed their leader. "You might tell us what you got for it," urged Danny Grin. "Guess," hinted Dick. "Fifty," said Dave promptly. "He said he wouldn't take less than ninety," retorted Hazelton. "Ninety dollars," guessed Tom. "Fellows," laughed Dick, "at one time on the train I was so downhearted and glum over the chances of a trade that I believe I would have jumped at fifty dollars. Then I remembered my promise not to take less than ninety dollars. With that I soared to a hundred dollars, then down, by degrees, to seventy. But my promise pulled me back to ninety." "It wasn't exactly a promise," Dave broke in. "Anyway, Dick, it wasn't the kind of promise that had to be kept." "Half the time I felt that the promise had to be kept, and the other half of the time I felt that it might better be broken," Prescott went on, laughingly. "Just as I reached Porthampton, however, and saw all the fine summer homes there, my figures began to rise. I realized, of course, that a birch bark canoe is a good deal of a rarity in these days; that such a boat hasn't anything like a hard-and-fast, staple value. A birch bark canoe, in other words, is worth what it will bring." "And no more," nodded Dave Darrin. "So you were wise to take the fifty dollars." "Who said that I took fifty dollars for the canoe?" Dick smiled back. "What did you get?" insisted Harry Hazelton, his impatience increasing with every minute. "Do you really want to know what I got?" teased Dick. "Of course I do," snorted Harry. "We all do!" "Then I'll tell you," nodded Dick. Instead, however, he began feeling in his pockets. "Tell us, then!" ordered Hazelton gruffly. "I got a check," smiled Dick. "For how much?" pressed Hazelton. "Well, let me explain," said Dick, still laughing. "You see, I didn't have to do any describing or praising of the canoe, for Mr. Eades, who bought the canoe for his crowd, was here three days ago, as you know, and looked the canoe over, in water and out. It was just a question of settling the price of the canoe. So, when I reached Mr. Eades, we started in to bargain. He asked me how much I wanted for the canoe. I guess, fellows, my nerve must have gone to my head, for I told him two hundred dollars." "You didn't get it?" gasped Hazelton. "I didn't," Dick answered soberly. "How much-----" "Mr. Eades told me he represented himself and associates, who wanted the canoe to put on the little lake down at their country club. I told him it seemed to me that a canoe like ours was an expensive sort of thing to put in a pond. Then he offered me seventy-five dollars." "That's a good, round sum, and will help us out a lot this summer," nodded Dave Darrin. "I'm glad you accepted it." "I didn't," smiled Dick. "Mr. Eades finally offered eighty, and I told him I regretted that we hadn't done the trading at the time that he came over to Gridley to see the canoe. Mr. Eades replied that at the time he came here he wasn't authorized to speak for his friends, but merely to look at the canoe and report. After that he made one or two more small increases in his price, but I seemed to have lost interest in the subject of a trade and looked at my time table to see when the next train left for Gridley. Then we talked about other matters, and, fellows, I was pretty glum, though I didn't allow the fact to show. Finally, he offered me more money, and then a little more. At last I came down on my price, and made him my final offer. Mr. Eades didn't seem to like it, and then, all of a sudden, he took out his check book and wrote a check for me." "Close to a hundred dollars?" asked Dave, with deep interest. For answer Dick threw the check on the table. There was a wild scramble for it. "A hundred and fifty dollars!" gasped Tom Reade. "Let me see that check!" demanded Greg Holmes unbelievingly. The check went from hand to hand, each of the fellows looking at it half bewildered. Yet certainly the check said one hundred and fifty dollars. "See here, Dick," asked Tom anxiously, "are you sure---positive, that is---that it was honest to charge a hundred and fifty for that canoe of ours?" "You may be sure that I thought of that," Prescott answered. "I don't want to defraud any man. But birch bark suitable for canoes is getting to be a thing of the past in this country. Our friend, Hiram Driggs, the boat builder, told me that a birch bark canoe, nowadays, is simply worth all one can get for it. But, after Mr. Eades had written the check and handed it to me, he said: 'Now, the trade is made and closed, Prescott, what do you really consider the canoe worth?' I answered him a good deal as I've answered you, and offered to return the check if Mr. Eades wasn't satisfied. Fellows, for just a moment or two my heart was in my mouth for fear he'd take me up and ask for the return of his check. But Mr. Eades merely smiled, and said he was satisfied if I was." "I'll bet he'd have gone to a two hundred dollar price," declared Hazelton. "Dick, weren't you sorry, afterwards, that you didn't hold out flat for two hundred dollars?" "Not I," young Prescott answered promptly. "If I had been too greedy I'd have deserved to lose altogether, and very likely I would have lost. Fellows, I think we can be well satisfied with the price we've obtained." "I am!" declared Dave Darrin promptly. "We've realized a hundred dollars above my wildest dream." Incidentally it may be mentioned that Mr. Eades found, from his friends, that he had a prize, indeed, in the fine old war canoe. The grounds committee of another country club offered two hundred and fifty for that same canoe a month later. "Now, fellows," Dick went on, "suppose we leave here and decide how we're to lay out this money for our summer camp?" The vote was carried instantly. With a whoop of glee the chums started for Dave's house. _ |
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