The Grammar School Boys Snowbound Part 44

"Dan wasn't out to-day," Dave announced. "At least, if he was, he failed to see any of us. Let's walk down to his house and see if anything is wrong with him."

d.i.c.k agreeing, the two chums turned down a dark side street on their way to Dalzell's.

At the darkest point on the street the two boys had to pa.s.s a collection of shanty like buildings, which contained a contractor's offices, a junk-shop, a second hand dealer's storehouse and a big stable in which the contractor's work-horses were kept.

"These old rookeries will go by when Gridley real estate gets to be just a little more valuable," grunted Dave, as he picked his way gingerly in the darksome spot.

"It's really a disgrace to the town, this place," replied d.i.c.k. "Hullo!

Who's moving there? O-o-oh--say!"

They were just at the head of the narrow alley-way leading down to the stable. Up this alley-way a man had been picking his prowling way in the dark. At the hail from d.i.c.k Prescott the man turned, as though to glide back into the shadow.

But now, suddenly, the fellow wheeled like a flash and bounded into the path of the two Grammar School boys.

"I reckon this time will be as good as any other!" announced Mr. Fits, with an ugly laugh that showed his fang like teeth.

CHAPTER XXIV

CONCLUSION

"Jupiter! But we've got you!" flared Dave Darrin.

"Have you?" retorted Mr. Fits sarcastically. "Hold me tight, then. But this is a lucky meeting for me. I can settle all the old scores with you two. Yell, if you think it will bring any help to you."

"We know better," replied d.i.c.k coolly, though he was tingling inside.

"We've got to handle you ourselves."

"Get busy at handling me, then," leered Mr. Fits. "Prescott, I'm going to begin by handling you in a way that'll make Darrin run."

"Don't you believe it!" retorted Dave angrily. "I may be killed, but I promise you that I won't run except to chase you, you ugly brute!"

"We'll see!" chuckled the wretch.

With that he reached out for d.i.c.k, who was standing his ground. Just then a lithe figure shot in between the boys and their promised a.s.sailant.

"Stand back, you hound!" ordered the newcomer angrily. "This is a matter for men. You and I will attend to each other!"

"Old Dut!" breathed d.i.c.k Prescott in the intensity of his astonishment.

"Yes, it's I," announced the princ.i.p.al of the Central Grammar coolly.

"This is more in my line."

Mr. Fits had been pushed back from the spot by the energetic fist of Mr.

E. Dutton Jones. But now the brute came back, cautiously, crouching and leering.

"Who are you, anyway!" demanded Mr. Fits.

"Oh, I'm one of the town's schoolmasters," replied Old Dut dryly. "As for you, I imagine you're that doubtful celebrity, Mr. Fits--otherwise a thief."

"Get out of this!" warned the rascal darkly. "This is no place for schoolmasters."

"On the contrary," retorted Old Dut, as coolly as before, "this is just the proper place for me, for I've appointed myself to teach you a lesson, my man. Throw off your overcoat, I don't want to take you unfairly."

As Old Dut spoke he "shucked" his own coat, tossing it to the curb.

"Wait, Mr. Jones, and we'll get a policeman," urged d.i.c.k.

"Wait and see how badly I'm going to need one," returned the schoolmaster.

"This affair is none of your business," growled Mr. Fits.

"Yes, it is!" insisted the princ.i.p.al of Central Grammar. "You were going to attack two of my boys. If you'll go along peaceably to the police station with me, then I'll let you off from a thras.h.i.+ng. But don't try to run away, for I warn you that I've kept up fairly well the sprinting of my old college days."

"I won't go with you, and I won't run," uttered Mr. Fits defiantly.

"Then get off your coat, for I'm going to start in," Old Dut warned the wretch.

Something in the schoolmaster's eye and voice told Fits that he would do well to get himself in trim at once. Off came his hat and coat.

"Look out, you ferrule-t.o.s.s.e.r!" jeered Mr. Fits, and led off with one fist after the other.

It had often been remarked, in undertones by Grammar School boys, that Old Dut was fine at thras.h.i.+ng boys, but that it would be different if he had a man of his own size to tackle.

Right now d.i.c.k Prescott and Dave Darrin were treated to a sight that they never forgot. In point of size Old Dut was somewhat over-matched.

At the same time his opponent was a younger man. Yet it looked like a battle of giants. For some moments Old Dut had all he could do to hold his own. He took severe punishment, but gave back the same kind. Then, all of a sudden, Fits showed signs of wanting to get away. But Mr. E.

Dutton Jones followed him up persistently, and at last a hard blow stretched the thief on the ground.

"Don't try to get up," Old Dut warned the fellow, "until I announce that I am ready for you."

With that the princ.i.p.al put on his coat once more, while Dave, with a very respectful air, pa.s.sed the princ.i.p.al's hat.

"Now, you may get up," nodded Old Dut. "Put on your hat and coat."

Mr. Fits obeyed, next remarking whiningly:

"As you got the best of it, now I suppose you are ready to let me go."

"I never let a thief go, if I can help it," Old Dut retorted, gripping one of the fellow's wrists. "We'll walk along together, my friend, until we reach the police station. And woe unto you if you start anything funny!"

So it happened that, within five minutes, Mr. Fits was turned over to the members of a rejoicing police force. At the station house Mr. Fits described himself more especially as being one John Clark. Whether that was really his own name no one in Gridley ever found out.

Clark took his arrest philosophically enough. Now that he was behind bars, with no help for his situation, he became almost goodnatured. Ere long he admitted all of the charges against him. It was he who had entered the Prescott flat and had taken away d.i.c.k's watch and the fan intended for d.i.c.k's mother. Clark told freely how he and his confederates had taken toll from the Christmas shoppers, confessing also that they had had a number of houses "located" for burglary.

The prisoner told, also how he had found a megaphone in the little "lumber loft" of the cook shack, and how, with this, he had improvised the ghostly sounds. He had also found in that loft the snowshoes on which he had escaped from Constable Dock.