The High School Freshmen Part 14

"n.o.body except those who want to, will stomach this silly charge against d.i.c.k," grunted Tom Reade to Dan Dalzell. "See how it's turning out? Our old pal and leader is holding a regular reception."

"'Scuse me," begged Dan, hastily. "There's Laura Bentley beckoning to me."

He hastened over to the girl's side. There were tiny drops in the corners of Laura's eyes that looked like suppressed tears.

"Dan," she said, coming straight to the point, "we have heard, of course. What a silly charge! See here, you pals of d.i.c.k's are going to walk home with him from school this noon?"

"Surest thing that ever happened in the world," declared Dalzell, fervently.

"Just so," nodded Laura. "Well, if you won't think it strange or forward, six of us girls want to walk along with you boys.

That will be a hint that the freshman cla.s.s, if not the whole H.S., pa.s.ses a vote of confidence in d.i.c.k Prescott, the most straightforward fellow in the cla.s.s or the school."

"Bully for you, Miss Bentley!" glowed Dan. "We shall be looking for you young ladies when school lets out."

When the outside bell rang for rea.s.sembling, such a guard of honor had chosen to gather around d.i.c.k, and march in with him, that it looked more like a triumphal procession.

"I feel better," sighed the boy, contentedly to himself, as he dropped into his seat. "What a bully thing a little confidence is!"

When school let out, d.i.c.k & Co., each partner escorting one of the freshman girls, strolled down the street. A good many more of the students chose to drop in behind them. d.i.c.k could say nothing, but his heart swelled with pride.

"The way to get famous and respected, nowadays, is to steal something, and to get found out," sneered Fred Ripley, bitterly, to Clara Deane.

Straight to his own door did some two score in all of the Gridley H.S. students escort d.i.c.k Prescott.

"Three cheers for d.i.c.k!" proposed some one.

"And for d.i.c.k and Co.!" shouted another voice.

The cheers were given with gusto. So much noise was made, in fact, that Mrs. Prescott came to open the door.

Something in his mother's face---a look of dread and alarm---spoiled the cheering for d.i.c.k. As soon as he could he got inside the house.

Little did the young freshman suspect the ordeal that awaited him here.

CHAPTER VIII

ONLY A "SUSPENDED" FRESHMAN NOW

"What's wrong mother? Have you heard-----" the boy began, as soon as the door was closed.

"Yes, Richard."

"But, mother, I am inno-----"

"Oh, d.i.c.k, of course you are! But this fearful suspicion is enough to kill one who loves you. Come! Your father is in the store.

Dr. Thornton is upstairs. He and---and---a policeman.

"Policeman!" gasped d.i.c.k, paling instantly. "Do they mean to-----"

"I don't know just what they mean, d.i.c.k I'm too dazed to guess,"

replied his mother. "But come upstairs."

As d.i.c.k entered their little parlor he was dimly aware that the High School princ.i.p.al was in the room. But the boy's whole gaze was centered on a quiet little man---Hemingway, the plain clothes man from the police station.

"Don't look scared to death, Prescott," urged Dr. Thornton, with a faint attempt at a smile. "We want to go through with a little formality---that is all. This matter at the High School has puzzled me to such a degree that I left early today and went to consult with Mr. Hemingway. Now, he thought it best that we come around here and have a talk with you."

"I can begin that talk best," pursued Hemingway, "by asking you, Prescott, whether you have anything that you want to say first-off?"

"I can't say anything," replied d.i.c.k, slowly, "except that I know nothing as to how any of the articles missed at school came to vanish. Ripley's pin was found in my pocket today, and I can only guess that some one---Ripley, perhaps dropped it in my pocket.

Ripley has some feelings of enmity for me, anyway. We had a fight last week, and---" d.i.c.k could not repress a smile---"I thrashed him so that he was out of school for several days."

"But Ripley was not at school for the last few days, until today,"

broke in Dr. Thornton. "Now, a pin and a watch were missed while Ripley was not attending school."

"I know it, sir," d.i.c.k nodded. "As to those two articles I cannot offer even the ghost of an explanation."

"I don't like to accuse you of taking Ripley's scarf-pin, nor do I like to suspect him of putting up such a contemptible trick,"

explained Dr. Thornton, thoughtfully. "As far as the incident of the scarf-pin goes I am willing to admit that your explanation is just as likely to be good as is any other."

"Prescott, what did you do with the other pin and the watch?"

shot in Policeman Hemingway, suddenly and compellingly.

It was well done. Had d.i.c.k been actually guilty, he might either have betrayed himself, or gone to stammering. But, as it was, he smiled, wanly, as he replied:

"I didn't do anything with them, Mr. Hemingway. I have just been explaining that."

"How much money have you about you at this moment?" demanded Hemingway.

"Two cents, I believe," laughed d.i.c.k, beginning to turn out his pockets. He produced the two copper coins, and held them out to the special officer.

"You may have more about you, then, somewhere," hinted the officer.

"Find it, then," begged d.i.c.k, frankly, as he stepped forward.

"Search me. I'll allow it, and shall be glad to have you do it."

So Policeman Hemingway made the search, with the speed and skill of an expert.

"No; you've no more money about you," admitted the policeman.

"You may have some put away, though."

"Where would it be likely to be?" d.i.c.k inquired.

"In your room, perhaps; in your baggage, or hidden behind books; oh, there's a lot of places where a boy can hide money in his own room."

"Come along and show me a few of them, then, won't you please?"