CHAPTER XXIV
TELLS ABOUT HOW I TOLD A SECRET
I don't know how it got out, but inside of an hour every fellow in that camp knew. I bet Mr. Ellsworth never said anything. Maybe somebody went with him to the house-boat, or maybe somebody followed him, hey? But that's always the way it is at Temple Camp. Things get out.
The first thing I did was to go straight to see Bert Winton. I said, "I've got something to tell you. Can you come out alone?" Because, honest, that fellow was so popular he could never get away from his troop.
He said, "Come on out on the lake for a row."
So we went down to the landing and on the way a couple of fellows asked us if we'd heard about little Skinny. Anyway, we didn't pay any attention to them. One fellow who belonged in a troop from Boston, said, "I hear his patrol isn't going to bother with him any more."
I said to Bert--that's what I called him now--I said, "If that was true about the money, he wouldn't get the gold cross, would he?"
He said, "Nope, I guess not. Bravery doesn't count for much if a fellow is crooked. A highwayman is brave if it comes to that."
By that I knew that there's a lot to being a hero besides just being brave. Crink.u.ms, I learned a lot of things from that fellow.
"But as long as he didn't do it, we should worry," I told him.
"That's us," he said
When we got in the boat he took the oars and I sat in the stern and we just flopped around. There aren't many fellows out rowing mornings, because they're either tracking or stalking or cleaning up or maybe in for a dip. We could see the fellows busy about the cabins and hear them shouting and it made me feel awful sorry for Skinny, somehow. I didn't see him anywheres and I wondered where he was.
"Well, kid," Bert said (most always he called me that), "things get worser and worser, hey?"
"Do you still say he didn't do it?" I asked him; "I don't know _what_ to think--look at that money."
"Ever take a good look at Skinny?" he said.
"Yes, but look at the money," I said.
"What do I want to look at it for?" he said; "it ought to be hung out on the clothesline from all I've heard," he said.
Oh, boy, I was glad to hear him say that. "I wouldn't let any fellow in this camp except you call me 'kid,'" that's what I told him.
He just rowed around a little while, making dandy feather strokes, and then he said,
"Mr. Ellsworth didn't send that money over to Daniel Boone and Buffalo Bill yet, did he?"
I said, "You mean the gold dust twins? No, I don't think he did."
He said, "Well then, we've got to fix _that_ and We can't ask Mr. E.
not to do it The tide's against us, kid; n.o.body's going to listen to us--not yet."
Then all of a sudden he sat up, got his oars set right, and oh, bibbie, you should have seen that fellow row. Every stroke he took he almost lay down flat, and oh, Christmas, couldn't he feather! Pretty soon we were over near the sh.o.r.e where the campers were. You could see their tent in among the trees.
"You're not going to tell _them_, are you?" I said.
But he didn't answer me, only just called out, "Hey, there, you wild Indians!"
One of them came through the woods and stopped and looked at us.
"Aren't you fellows going to the boat races down at Catskill?" Winton shouted. "You're going to miss the time of your lives if you don't.
Better get a hustle."
"What time are they?" the camper shouted.
"Just about now," Bert shouted; "follow the old Bowl Creek bed and you'll get there quicker." Then he rowed away again. "That'll fix 'em for to-day," he said. "More than one way to kill a cat, hey?"
"There _are_ some races, aren't there?" I asked him.
"Sure there are. That pair won't get back till midnight if they once hit Catskill."
I said, "You think of everything, don't you?"
"Now, Blakeley," he said, kind of more serious like, while he rowed around; "what are we going to do about it? Skinny didn't take the money, that's settled. All right then, who did? n.o.body. Correct, be seated. All right then, what became of it? Mr. David Jones has it--our old college chum, Davy. It's at the bottom of Black Lake. How do I know all this? Because I know young mackinaw jacket and because I know Skinny--see? Simple as eating pie."
"Gee, I've got to admit that eating pie is easy--especially mince," I told him.
He said, "All right, now I'm going to ask you a question and if you want to, you can say 'none of your business.' You told me you were keeping still about something. Has it anything to do with Skinny?"
"No, siree, it has not," I told him.
"All right, has it anything to do with the key?"
He shot it out just like that and oh, boy, wasn't I up in the air.
I said, "Maybe, kind of; yes, it has."
"Well then, you'd better tell me all about it," he said.
"I can't," I told him.
He said, "Oh, yes, you can."
"I promised I wouldn't," I said.
"Well then," he said, "we're all up in the air and I guess I can't help you much. I just thought that maybe two heads would be better than one, that's all. The money came out of the locker, that's sure. Any idea who it belongs to?"
For a minute I just sat there thinking, watching him dip his oars. He lifted them up and I could hear the water drip from them, and then it would be all quiet till he did it again.
"I couldn't row ash.o.r.e with one oar," he said; "I'd just have to scull.
Two oars are better than one. Same with heads, Blakeley. Skinny's got till Wednesday. You've done a good job so far. I dare say the cross will be here by Wednesday. Ever try to row feather-stroke, Blakeley?"
Gee, I just couldn't help what I did--I just couldn't resist that fellow. I said, "Bert, you've got more brains than I have, that's one sure thing, and I can't help doing just what you say. I have to admit you're a wonder. I can't do any more alone, I can't. We have to be partners, kind of. Do you believe that about the Elks throwing him down? Bert, there was a fellow, a big fellow, and he's a son of the man that owns this boat, and he's a lieutenant." This is just what I told him. I said, "He's had a whole lot of dandy adventures and he took his uniform off to go fishing and hid it in the house-boat. And then when he came to get it, the boat was gone, because his father told our troop that we could use it. And after we got way down as far as Staten Island he sneaked on board one night and put his old clothes in the locker and took his uniform, and afterwards he dropped the key when he tried to give me some money and Skinny found it. He found the money, too, and he gave it to Mr. Ellsworth, but he forgot about the key."
"He gave it to Mr. Ellsworth, huh?" Bert said.
"Yes, he did," I told him, "and that's why I'm going to stick to him through thick and thin, I am, I don't care what. So now I told and I have to be to blame."