ARTHUR 1RUS
 
 u ^ AR y OF ^ 
 
 Vlr\tf V 
 
 807.73 
 
 R9H3 Russell. A. j, 
 
 UTHOR 
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 r l3 Russell, A. j. 
 R9lls . Stony lonesome 
 
 6904
 
 LISRARY OF 
 WALT DISNEY 

 
 U3RARY GF 7!-!E 
 WALT DJCNEY STUD!
 
 Copyright, 1903, 
 BY ARTHUR J. RUSSELL
 
 3k i 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. In Which the Reader Obtains His 
 First Glimpse of the Town and 
 of Its "Prominent Citizens" . . I 
 II. In Which the Boys Find Buried 
 
 Treasure in the Pirates' Cave . 31 
 
 III. In Which Uncle Ellery Makes a 
 
 Plea for an Improved Order of 
 Society 51 
 
 IV. In Which the Boys Have an Adven- 
 
 ture with the Big Bell .... 66 
 V. In Which It Becomes Necessary to 
 Found the Patriots' Defense 
 Society 86 
 
 VI. In Which the Treacherous Raid on 
 Slim Jones' Stock Comes to 
 Naught 100 
 
 VII. In Which Peewee and "the Police" 
 Break Up a Secret Meeting of 
 the Patriots' Defense Society . . 112 
 VIII. In Which Peewee Jackson, the Boy 
 Detective, Finds a Clue as Big 
 as a House . . 123 
 
 IX. In Which the Boys Decide to Take 
 Uncle Ellery into Their Con- 
 fidence 136 
 
 X. In Which Peewee's Coup d'Etat 
 
 Fails to Accomplish Its Object 154
 
 TO 
 THE MEMORY OF 
 
 "DOC" (ROLAND c.) BOWMAN, 
 
 CARTOONIST AND POET, 
 HONORABLE MAN AND LOVING FRIEND
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 In Which the Reader Obtains His First Glimpse of 
 the Town and of Its "Prominent Citizens." 
 
 HELLO, Peewee, whatcher doin'?" 
 "Nothin 1 ." 
 
 Peewee Jackson was certainly a very 
 small boy; when you got to know him, 
 it was equally certain that he "was 
 small" spiritually. Peewee's parents 
 had called him Henry because he 
 had an uncle of that name; but 
 the boys had rechristened him 
 Peewee because the name fitted 
 him. 
 
 Peewee had started to grow, but 
 he had been caught in an eddy. His 
 little trousers had begun to bag at 
 the knees, but they had been cut off in 
 the middle of the bag, and looked as if 
 they had been stopped too suddenly and 
 were suffering from the shock. The boy 
 seemed to be an altogether useless and
 
 unnecessary addition to the town a sort 
 of afterthought. Yet there was a good 
 deal of the boy in Peewee, too. He car- 
 ried about with him a few 
 rods of twine, a sling-shot, a 
 half pint of dried peas, and 
 some stolen apples. He was 
 a moody and quiet boy, but 
 like other still waters he was 
 deep. Having built himself 
 up on detective stories, he had an idea 
 that he was very keen in ferreting out 
 crime. His anxiety to get at the bottom 
 of whatever occurred in Stony Lonesome 
 had won for him the dislike of the other 
 boys, who did not care to have such little 
 derelictions as window smashing and 
 apple stealing traced to them, and for 
 this reason they had acquired a habit of 
 laying all these crimes at Peewee's 
 door. Because of these unjust charges, 
 Peewee's face had come to wear an 
 expression of pained surprise. 
 
 At the time the question recorded 
 above was asked, the hose had been cut 
 at the schoolhouse fire, and indignant 
 firemen had ripped off pickets from the
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 fence with the intention of using them 
 about the persons of certain of the boys. 
 Peewee Jackson's name was naturally 
 mentioned in this connection, and search 
 was made for him, but, lo, he was not. 
 
 Shorty Hitchcock had found him sit- 
 ting on the edge of the wharf whittling 
 a shingle. 
 
 "Hello, Peewee whatcher doin'?" 
 
 "Nothin'." 
 
 "Where you been ?" 
 
 "Nowhere." 
 
 "They're lookin' for you." 
 
 "I don't care. Let 'em look." 
 
 "The schoolhouse's a-fire." 
 
 "What of it ?" 
 
 "She's out now." 
 
 "Umph !" 
 
 "They said you set her." 
 
 "I never." 
 
 "Well, you cut the hose." 
 
 "You're a !" 
 
 "You dassent say that again." 
 
 "Don't hafter." 
 
 "Well, you'd better not." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Never you mind." 
 3
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "I'd mind if I wanted to." 
 "Well, 'twouldn't be safe for you." 
 "Why not?" 
 "Never mind why not." 
 "I'd mind if I wanted to." 
 If the controversy had been car- 
 ried on between great nations, this 
 would have been called "the diplomatic 
 interchange of notes." It is politer in the 
 case of nations, perhaps, but the meaning 
 is the same. 
 
 Shorty Hitchcock, Spot Maloney, and 
 Slim Jones did not associate much with 
 Peewee, because he did not assimilate with 
 the "Stony Lonesome Gang." Peewee 
 was not "clubable." He was a lone fisher- 
 man, not dependent on companionship. 
 He was a tramp steamer picking up busi- 
 ness where it could be found. On the 
 other hand, Shorty, Spot, Slim Jones, the 
 fat boy, and Stubby Jones, his tall bro- 
 ther, were bound together by pretty 
 strong ties, although as a rule they 
 hunted in couples. 
 
 Then there was another solitary pine in 
 Stony Lonesome. Reference is made to 
 that model child, Frankie Foster. The 
 4
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 boys had a particular spite against 
 Frankie because he was neatly dressed, 
 gentlemanly in his manners, and 
 kept his nails clean and his hands 
 white and soft. There were bent 
 pins always waiting, oh, so quietly 
 and softly, in Frankie's seat, 
 and when Spot Maloney sat on 
 Frankie's new stiff hat, and then 
 kicked him on the shins for hav- 
 ing it, great was the joy in the 
 Stony Lonesome schoolhouse 
 yard. And all for no other rea- 
 son than that Frankie was a nice boy and 
 a gentleman. Of all the methods used to 
 make Frankie Foster's simple and kindly 
 life miserable, I am ashamed to speak; 
 but you know what boys can do. 
 
 One day in school Frankie burst out cry- 
 ing. He cried in a quiet and heart-broken 
 way, and for a few minutes the gang felt 
 mean. The conspirators tried to grin or 
 to look unconscious, but they all felt "low." 
 The abuse had gone so far that even 
 Frankie could not stand it any longer. 
 
 The teacher also rose to the occasion, 
 and two of the worst outlaws of the 
 5
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 school "caught it bad" that day. Spot 
 Maloney was freckled, stubby in person, 
 and stubborn in disposition, and he didn't 
 mind it much; but Shorty Hitchcock was 
 sensitive and felt the disgrace keenly. It 
 wasn't altogether "the lickin' " that hurt, 
 but his conscience troubled him for bully- 
 ragging Frankie Foster. And all Stony 
 Lonesome heard of the affair and was 
 glad that the boys had been "caught up 
 with" at last. 
 
 The town expressed this joy outwardly 
 when the victims appeared on the street. 
 Spot didn't mind this much either, but 
 Shorty kept away from "downtown" and 
 loafed around the lanes and barns and 
 out in the pasture where the ferns grew 
 and where there was a nice, fresh, woodsy 
 smell in the air. For everything back of 
 Stony Lonesome was woods and fields. 
 
 Stony Lonesome ! No very ardent ad- 
 mirer, unless sadly deficient in humor, 
 could have affixed a name like this to a 
 town. I cannot remember that the name 
 had any offensive significance. It stood, 
 rather, for everything that was romantic 
 and adventurous. 
 
 6
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 From a boy's point of view it was an 
 interesting and busy town. No matter 
 how little was going on in the shops, the 
 boys charged the atmosphere of the place 
 with expectation and excitement. And 
 when the fire engines that propelled their 
 streams of water by hand power came out 
 at night for practice, 
 how could any one 
 truthfully say that the 
 place was dull? 
 
 These hand engines, 
 known as Tiger No. 2 
 and Torrent No. i, did 
 not give their exhibi- 
 tion on any regularly 
 appointed day, and it 
 was impossible to fore- 
 cast just when this great event of the 
 week was to come off. The warning was 
 usually given by some Paul Revere run- 
 ning breathlessly down the street and 
 hollering to all his friends as he passed: 
 "She's goin' to squirt !" 
 Then every boy dropped chores, base- 
 ball, marbles, or whatever he happened 
 to be engaged in, and made a bee line 
 7
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 for downtown. The engines were on the 
 river bank, and two lines of firemen in 
 their shirt sleeves were manning tie 
 brakes and waiting for the signal. A 
 crowd of men stood around discuss- 
 ing the merits of the two engines. 
 
 Every boy in town knew the fine 
 points and records of each tub, and was 
 a loyal supporter of one or the other. 
 Nearly all the advocates of the Torrent 
 were Republicans. The "Tigers" were 
 Jacksonian Democrats or their descend- 
 ants. The Torrent was the more con- 
 servative tub; the Tiger had more of 
 what has been called Americanism. You 
 could tell a boy's characteristics by the 
 engine he championed. 
 
 The captain of each machine stood on 
 the top of it, a figure of great power and 
 an object of envy. As the brakes began 
 slowly to move he swayed back and 
 forth. Then, as the men warmed up 
 to their work, he yelled: 00 . 
 
 "Break her down ! Take it out of her !" 
 The brakes rose and fell with the regu- 
 larity and rapidity of machinery. A yell 
 from the main street showed that the
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 wr'ter had taken a sudden spurt, and had 
 wet the group of small boys who were 
 
 := showing off by 
 standing ven- 
 turesomely in front 
 of the stream. Wild 
 shouts of joy greeted each 
 spurt of water in advance of 
 the record. Presently the 
 gang at the brakes tired out, 
 the stream 'fell back, and 
 finally ceased, and two men 
 with a tape measure ascertained what had 
 been done. 
 
 During the trial Uncle Ellery Marsh 
 stood in the street in his customary atti- 
 tude, watching the stream of water with 
 the eye of an expert, and telling about 
 "the record we made with the old Tiger 
 over to Louiston, b' George!" 
 
 Uncle Ellery was a sort of a town ora- 
 cle who could tell you the history of every 
 family in the place for a hundred years 
 back, and throw it into dramatic form, too. 
 On many incidents that might as well 
 have been forgotten Uncle Ellery's mem- 
 ory had a tenacious grip. But it was for 
 9
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 the dramatic interest in them, not for 
 their wickedness. 
 
 "You see," said Uncle Ellery, "we are 
 all young ones growed up. When we 
 were children we ust t' be naughty some- 
 times, but, bless you, it didn't amount to 
 nothin'. After we get growed up some 
 of us are bad, too; but that don't amount 
 to nothin' either. It's so small the 
 Almighty can't see it." 
 
 When the boys were up to their tricks 
 Uncle Ellery always had an excuse for 
 them. Some man with a grievance would 
 detail his troubles in public with threats 
 of vengeance, but Uncle Ellery would say: 
 
 "Wai, wal, now. If you could look at 
 that as the boys do, it would be funny. If 
 'twasn't funny they wouldn't do it. Of 
 course, to our way of looking at things, 
 them boys' actions don't seem to be gov- 
 erned by good sense nor reason." 
 
 Uncle Ellery kept a little cabinet shop 
 on the main street, where he turned out 
 everything that could be fashioned from 
 wood, beginning with cradles and ending 
 with coffins. He had a shrewd and kindly 
 philosophy, and he was loaded to the 
 10
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 muzzle with anecdotes of the past, with 
 Indian stories, and with incidents of 
 adventure and sport. He was very thin. 
 They called him "spare" in Stony Lone- 
 some. He had strange curves in his 
 figure, acquired from a habit of standing 
 with his right hand on his right hip and 
 his left hand on his left knee, 
 forming a truss support for 
 his body according to the 
 approved principles of me- 
 chanics. This he did when 
 he was resting. When he 
 was working or walking you 
 would have said that he was 
 made of whalebone. 
 
 Uncle Ellery told us once 
 that a boy was never grown 
 up until it hurt him to fall 
 out of a tree. This remark was drawn out 
 by the fact that Spot Maloney had just 
 taken a pretty severe tumble and was 
 bragging to Uncle Ellery that it "never 
 hurt me a bit." 
 
 If there were no trees to be shinned, if 
 the engine didn't squirt, if the baseball 
 game didn't come off, or the boys got 
 ii
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 tired of following up Uncle Ellery, they 
 could generally be found loafing under 
 the big elm trees in front of Peewee 
 Jackson's yard. One long summer 
 evening Shorty Hitchcock and 
 Spot Maloney were in the middle 
 of an exciting game of knife on 
 this pleasant green. Presently the 
 onlookers were attracted by Stubby 
 Jones, who stood by himself ab- 
 sorbed in unwrapping a rag from 
 his sore finger. Proud of occupy- 
 ing the center of the stage, Stubby 
 slowly unwound the rag, and the boys 
 surveyed the injured member with vary- 
 ing emotions. 
 
 "My ! Ain't that a buster !" 
 "She's a fright !" 
 "How'd you do it, Stub?" 
 "I got my knife sharpened down to the 
 new house on the oil stone. When 
 I was whittlin' t' words me, she 
 slipped." 
 
 Stubby carefully wound the rag around 
 his finger again and tucked it in his pocket 
 out of the way of danger. 
 
 "Why don't yer have it sewed up, Stub ?" 
 12
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "Sewnothin' up!" 
 
 "Pussy Clement had two stitches taken 
 in his lip when he fell off the barn." 
 
 "Did it hurtyer, Puss?" 
 
 "Did it ? I wouldn't have it done again 
 for fifty cents." 
 
 "She'll heal up herself, if you 
 let her alone and don't wash her." 
 
 "I know she will; soap's no good for cuts." 
 
 At this point some other incident would 
 in the nature of things have attracted 
 general attention, or the crowd would 
 have drifted back to the knife contest, 
 had not Peewee reached over with a long, 
 elastic cord and snapped it at Stub's 
 wounded finger. The attempt was not 
 so much to inflict personal injury as to 
 express contempt for the value of the 
 attraction Stub was offering. 
 
 " Whatcher tryin' to do ?" 
 
 "NothinT 
 
 "Well, you want to quit it, that's all." 
 
 "What's the matter, Stub?" asked 
 Shorty Hitchcock, suspending the game 
 and looking up. 
 
 "Nothin', only Peewee tried to hit my 
 sore finger." 
 
 13
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 'Whatcher want to do that for, Pee- 
 wee ?" asked Shorty. 
 
 "I didn't go to do it. It just slipped." 
 "Slipped nothin'," Stub protested; "I 
 saw you do it a-purpus." 
 "That's all right." 
 
 "Well, it ain't all right, and you can't 
 make it all right, either, durn you !" 
 
 The boys looked at each other 
 fiercely. 
 
 "Lick him, Stub, if he does it 
 again," suggested Shorty. 
 
 Stubby intimated that he could do 
 it quick and plenty and with one 
 hand tied behind his back. Peewee 
 grumbled, but made no further effort 
 to provoke hostilities. Stub turned 
 slowly to watch the game. 
 
 "Where are you now?" asked Spot. 
 "I'm at kneein's. You missed at earin's." 
 "Hold on! That's a miss. It's my 
 earin's again." 
 
 Shorty made his "earin's" and prodded 
 the knife into the ground safely at 
 "fistin's." At "nosin's" and at "elbowin's" 
 he was likewise successful. He missed 
 the point, however, at "teethin's," and 
 14
 
 Spot took the knife and continued. The 
 game ebbed and flowed till Spot "mowed 
 the grass" successfully and won out. That 
 made it necessary for Shorty to "root the 
 
 peg." 
 
 A peg of wood about as thick as a lead 
 pencil was whittled out an inch long and 
 sharpened at one end. Spot was entitled 
 to stick this peg into the ground, and, 
 holding his knife by the blade, to strike 
 the peg three blows. Mean boys used to 
 get in an extra blow if the other boy 
 wasn't sharp. Shorty, the loser of the 
 game, was obliged to get down and up- 
 root this peg with his teeth. It was only 
 the "lowest down" kind of a boy who 
 would for a moment think of refusing this 
 fair tribute to his opponent's prowess. It 
 was a question of the severest boy honor. 
 
 Spot drove in the peg till it was level 
 with the sod, and Shorty grappled it 
 with his teeth. Speck Jordan, 
 Noony Norris, and Slim Jones 
 watched his frantic efforts 
 and hollered with delight. 
 
 "Root 'er, Shorty! 
 Grub her up !" was the
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 encouragement Shorty re- 
 ceived until he came up, 
 dirty faced and hot, but bearing 
 the peg between his teeth. 
 
 "That's the stuff!" exclaimed 
 Spot, admiringly. "I didn't think 
 you'd get her." 
 Shorty grunted. 
 "You needn't a-punched her in 
 so hard. I'll get even with you !" 
 "Say," said Spot, anxious to 
 mollify his old friend, "let's go 
 over to Chuck & Squib's store, an' I'll 
 buy the cigars." 
 
 Chuck & Squib was a firm of commer- 
 cial importance, and rated high in Stony 
 Lonesome. The partners were Chuck 
 Hollins and Squib Strong, boys with nat- 
 ural business instincts that drove them 
 to "keep store" about as soon as they 
 were put into short pantaloons, and to 
 get nearly all the marbles and pins away 
 from the other boys in the neighborhood. 
 The principal articles on sale at their 
 store were cigars made of sweet fern 
 leaves or of hay seed. There were two 
 grades of these cigars, the "Sweet Firm" 
 16
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 at eight pins each, and the "Hay Seed" at 
 five pins each. The "half-lengths" brought 
 six and three pins each. 
 
 The cigars were made by rolling pieces 
 of newspaper around a pencil and pasting 
 them. These cases were then slipped off 
 and stuffed with dried sweet fern leaves 
 or hay seed. The hay seed had in time 
 grown unpopular because of poisonous 
 seeds or chaff in the hay, which, together 
 with the printer's ink on the newspaper 
 cases, had a tendency to give the boys 
 using them sore mouths, and mothers had 
 gone to the length of prohibiting them. 
 Yet, because of the low price, they were 
 still used. 
 
 For a moment the boys were absorbed 
 in the prospect of a smoke. 
 
 "All right, come on !" said Spot. 
 "Hold on there, durn you, what are 
 you doing?" 
 
 "What's the matter, Spot ?" asked 
 Shorty. 
 
 "Slim Jones spit crossways of me. 
 It's dead sure to rain Saturday." 
 
 "What do you mean ?" continued 
 Spot, evidently growing angrier. 
 17
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "We're goin' berryin' Saturday." The 
 fat boy grinned. 
 
 "You needn't be so durn partickerler. 
 Guess a feller can spit if he wants to. 
 They ain't no law against it." 
 
 "Wall, I wouldn't be so gosh durned 
 mean." 
 
 "No, you wouldn't!" 
 
 "Naw, I wouldn't!" 
 
 "Guess I'll be mean if I want to." 
 
 "You're a fatty." 
 
 "Say there, don't you give me none of 
 your face. I won't stand for it." 
 
 "Then you can set down for it." 
 
 "I don't have to set down for any little 
 runt like you." 
 
 This was too much. Although Spot 
 was small, it did not take him five seconds 
 to take off his jacket and jump on the 
 Jones boy. But Slim was strong if he was 
 not quick, and he was larger than Spot. 
 He unlimbered several heavy batteries 
 and went into action. 
 
 "Gorry! Slim Jones and Spot's a-fight- 
 in' !" 
 
 A yell of delight arose. 
 
 "Row! Row! Make a ring! Make a ring!" 
 18
 
 The boys gathered into a ring and en- 
 couraged the combatants with loud 
 shouts. 
 
 "Swipe 'im, Spot ! O o, wasn't that a 
 good one !" 
 
 "Meller his head !" 
 
 "Lamm him, Spot!" 
 
 Two or three men passed by and 
 laughed, but did not attempt to interfere. 
 Slim Jones soon had his opponent down 
 and was sitting on him, while Spot bit, 
 scratched, kicked, and pummeled blindly. 
 
 At this point Mrs. Jackson, annoyed by 
 the fray under her windows, bounced out 
 of the front gate and made directly for 
 the boys. 
 
 The crowd scattered like chaff in every 
 direction. Even Slim Jones got away in 
 spite of his weight. 
 
 "That warn't much of a 
 fight." 
 
 Shorty and Spot were again 
 on their way to the 
 cigar store. 
 
 "Slim Jones was too 
 big for you." 
 
 "He'd no business 
 IQ
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 to spit crossways, anyway. I'll bet it'll 
 rain Saturday." 
 
 "If it does, we'll go to the cave an' read 
 Moccasin Mose." 
 
 "Skatin' bugs are awful thick after it 
 rains." 
 
 "That's so. Monty Choate killed one 
 once, and he found a cent down 
 in front of the postoffice next day." 
 "You kill a skatin' bug an' 
 you're sure to find a cent." 
 
 "I killed two last spring an' I 
 never found a cent." 
 
 "Well, it was there, but you didn't see 
 it. Monty said he's tried it lots of times." 
 "Well, I s'pose it's so; the boys all 
 say so." 
 "It's sure." 
 
 "Where'd you get them pins?" 
 "Minn had 'em on her cushion." 
 "Gorry ! Won't she lamm you ?" 
 "She don't dare to; I got something I 
 can tell on her." 
 
 "Girls ain't no good." 
 "Most girls ain't, but Minn's 
 pretty good. She kin tell a bully 
 story." 
 
 20
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "It's a girl's story." 
 
 "No, it ain't. It's a fairy story and 
 Brownies." 
 
 "Shucks, that girl stuff! Tain't Injuns 
 an' robbers." 
 
 "They's fairies and witches, too, r 
 and they can turn you into toads." / 
 "J'ever touch a toad and git warts?" 
 "I never touch 'em; but if you tie a 
 string around a wart, an' rub a bean on it 
 an' bury the bean, the wart'll go away." 
 
 "I know it. Slim Jones tried it and the 
 wart went away in a week." 
 
 "What yer goin' to buy, Hay Seed or 
 Sweet Firm ?" 
 
 "I'll get two short Sweet Firms, I 
 guess." 
 
 "Look out he don't work off 
 soakers on you." 
 "You bet." 
 
 "Soakers" were fair on the 
 outside but stuffed with barn- 
 yard refuse and pieces of old 
 shoes. The idea was to work 
 off these inferior brands on personal ene- 
 mies or on smaller boys who did not know 
 the difference. If they protested against 
 21
 
 this treatment, they found themselves in 
 trouble. 
 
 Having bought two short Sweet Ferns, 
 the boys sat down on the sidewalk out- 
 side of Mrs. Hollin's yard to smoke them. 
 
 "These ain't soakers." 
 
 "No, they're all right." 
 1 ', "Say, why couldn't we run a store ? 
 ,*,{''/} Chuck's makin' no end o' pins." 
 |j\[r|' "I know it. Mrs. Hollins told ma 
 1 ' she didn't know what to do with the 
 pins Chuck gave her. She's got two salt 
 boxes full." 
 
 "Let's go down to the house and start 
 a store in the barn." 
 
 "We ain't got any sweet firm." 
 
 "Let's go up in the pasture an' get a 
 bunch." 
 
 "Say, I'll tell you somethin' better than 
 that. Let's go and buy a bunch of cigars 
 of Chuck & Squib and sell 'em again 
 higher." 
 
 The idea was attractive and grew on 
 the boys as they discussed it. After much 
 bargaining with Chuck, they secured ten 
 "long ones" and ten "short ones" of the 
 Sweet Fern brand at seven and four pins 
 
 22
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 apiece. They agreed to pay the next day, 
 but Spot had to put up his baseball for 
 security. That is, if the new firm did not 
 pay over one hundred and ten pins to 
 Chuck & Squib by the next day, the base- 
 ball was to belong to Chuck 
 
 The boys hurried to the Hitchcock barn 
 and soon had a sign out, reading: 
 
 SHORTY & SPOT 
 SIGARS 
 
 All the boys in Stony Lonesome heard 
 of the new venture and in a little while 
 Speck Jordan, Slim Jones, and 
 Pussy Clement strolled around 
 with their hands in their pockets 
 in a careless sort of way, to 
 investigate. 
 
 "Whatcher got to sell ?" 
 "Cigars. Want to buy ?" 
 "Naw. What are they wuth ?" 
 "The long ones is nine pins an' 
 the short ones six pins apiece." 
 A yell of derision greeted the 
 senior partner's remark. 
 23
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "Shucks! We can get 'em for eight 
 and five pins down to Chuck's place." 
 "No, you can't." 
 
 This contradiction was so palpably a 
 straining of the truth that it carried no 
 weight. Every boy knew what cigars 
 were worth. The other boys only walked 
 around, kicking at pieces of wood 
 and looking over the barn. 
 
 The two partners went aside and 
 consulted. 
 
 "Say, we got to sell 'em at Chuck's 
 price. We'll make a pin apiece 
 then, and they won't buy unless 
 we do." 
 
 "A pin apiece ain't enough." 
 "Well, we'll have to take it till we 
 get goin'." 
 
 The boys went back and an- 
 nounced that the price of cigars had 
 fallen to eight and five pins. 
 
 Speck Jordan was the spokesman of 
 the gang. He said: 
 
 "We can get them down to Chuck's for 
 that. What's the use of buyin' of you 
 fellers?" 
 
 "These is better than Chuck's." 
 24
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "Naw, they ain't. They come from 
 there." 
 
 "Well, that's the price." 
 
 "Come on, fellers, let's go down to 
 Chuck's." 
 
 This threat was too much for the avarice 
 of the new firm. 
 
 "Hold on, what'll you give for 'em ?" 
 
 "We'll give three and six pins apiece, 
 an' no more. Come on, boys." 
 
 "Hold on ! You can have 'em." 
 
 Shorty Hitchcock's idea was to call 
 Speck Jordan's bluff. He had begun to 
 think the boys hadn't any pins, for 
 they were not visible in the lapels ^P-. 
 of their jackets. To his immense 
 astonishment, Slim Jones drew a 
 whole paper of pins out of his pocket 
 and carefully counted out ninety. This 
 took some time, as both sides suspected 
 underhanded work of some kind and were 
 as suspicious of each other as strange dogs. 
 
 "There's your money. Hand over your 
 cigars." 
 
 "Guess I won't trade." 
 
 "Shucks ! You said you would." 
 
 The gang was mad clear through and 
 25
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 ready to fight. Shorty Hitchcock slowly 
 counted over the cigars again and handed 
 them out. Then the boys scuttled away, 
 whooping and laughing. Across the street 
 behind a fence Peewee Jackson lay hid- 
 den, craning his neck to find out what 
 was going on. 
 
 The two partners looked at each other 
 blankly. 
 
 "Say, let's quit the store business." 
 And another heavy firm went down; 
 assets, nothing; liabilities, twenty pins. 
 
 Of course the boys spread the story 
 over the town, and whoops of derision 
 greeted the members of the defunct firm 
 when they appeared in the school yard 
 or on the street. When Shorty went 
 into Uncle Ellery's cabinet 
 shop one day to fool with 
 the edged tools, he found 
 that Uncle Ellery knew all 
 the sickening details of their 
 failure. Shorty right then and 
 there made up his mind to 
 run away. 
 
 "Uncle El," he said, "I'm 
 tired of this measly old town. 
 26
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 Everybody knows every- " 
 thing you do." 
 
 Uncle Ellery's eyes twinkled. 
 
 "Now, boy," he said, "you don't 
 want to take that too much to 
 heart. S'pose your darned old 
 store had succeeded and you'd 
 got rich. The calls on your gener- 
 osity would 'a' been tremenjous. 
 Did I ever tell you the story of 
 the prosperous rooster?" 
 
 "No, what is she ?" 
 
 "Wai, you see, the price of eggs was 
 steep, and the rooster felt considerable 
 inflated in his own esteem. He was talk- 
 ing with the turkey gobbler one day, and 
 remarked: 
 
 ' 'We're turnin' out a sooperior artickle 
 of eggs this year. The workmanship is 
 everything that can be desired and the 
 goods is natty, up-to-date, and fetchin'.' 
 
 "The rooster stood on one leg, and held 
 the other claw up impressively. The tur- 
 key gobbler opened up his tail and spread 
 his feathers impressively, too, to show 
 that he was not behind the rooster in 
 good feelin's. 
 
 27
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 ' 'Yes,' continued the bird, 'I now hev 
 seventy hens workin' for me in my egg 
 factory, all making a good livin' and able 
 to indulge in little bits of ribbon 
 and other personal adornments. 
 There is a man takes every- 
 thing we projuce. A standing 
 order, see ?' 
 
 "An' right here who should 
 come along but Mrs. Hen an' ask a little 
 money for shoppin' purposes. You ought 
 to hev seen the change that came over 
 that rooster. 
 
 " 'My dear,' he cackled, 'do you want 
 to break me ? With eggs at this price and 
 nothin' doin', it's an outrage. I haven't 
 got a thing with me but a little chicken 
 feed in my pocket.' 
 
 "The hen thought she might make this 
 do, and the old rooster, sort of 
 unwillingly, you know, drags out 
 a handful of corn and oats and 
 passes it over. Then along comes 
 the goose and wants money to get 
 a new pole for the poultry roost, an' 
 another rooster steps up with a bill for 
 scratchin' in the garden for the chickens. 
 28
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 In about fifteen minutes the prosperous 
 rooster was rejuced to a point where he 
 went and stood in a corner of the barn- 
 yard on one leg, not carin' if he was alive 
 or dead an' wonderin' how long it would 
 be before he was plumb broke, anyhow. 
 
 "It doesn't always pay to make a fy-nan 
 cial success." 
 
 "Well," said Shorty, "the firm 
 of Shorty & Spot wasn't busted 
 by too much fy-nancial success, 
 anyhow." 
 
 Shorty and Uncle Ellery 
 laughed, and Shorty felt a little 
 better for the story, but he 
 didn't like to hear it mentioned, 
 and several fights over the 
 matter were narrowly avoided 
 before the boys forgot it. 
 
 As Shorty came out of the shop he 
 noticed Peewee Jackson on the other 
 side of the street, standing in front of a 
 tempting store window. Shorty gave the 
 incident no thought. Little did he sus- 
 pect that Peewee was playing the part 
 of "Old Sleuth." Shorty's accusation that 
 Peewee had set fire to the schoolhouse 
 29
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 and had interfered with the hose had 
 cut Peewee to the quick. It called for 
 vengeance ! And Peewee Jackson was 
 on the trail!
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 In Which the Boys Find the Buried Treasure in the 
 Pirates' Cave. 
 
 THE boys had been reading The 
 Last of the Mohicans, and the per- 
 sonality of Shorty Hitchcock had 
 been merged in that of Chingach- 
 gook. As soon as Shorty had 
 assumed this noble character, try- 
 ing to live and to think it in his 
 daily walk and conversation, Spot 
 Maloney became Uncas. These 
 two Indians were often seen 
 stealing cautiously along the fences, 
 trailing their guns, or walking backward 
 in the beds of imaginary streams so as to 
 throw the Hurons off the scent. In those 
 bloody days many an unfortunate small 
 boy in Stony Lonesome was struck with 
 wonder and fear at the discharge of vocal 
 firearms, and at the sudden onslaught of 
 Indians who scalped their victims, and 
 then disappeared into their native fast- 
 nesses.
 
 It was Saturday and, in spite of Slim 
 Jones' indiscretion, it was not raining. 
 The boys had scanned the sky 
 anxiously, and were much puzzled 
 that the omen of the early part of 
 the week had not brought dis- 
 aster. 
 
 "I'll bet it's raining down on the 
 coast," said Shorty. 
 
 "It's dead sure to be rainin 
 somewhere," replied Spot. 
 
 "I saw him spit crossways, didn't 
 you?" 
 
 "P'raps he just missed it." 
 
 "Say, let's paint up and go up 
 to the cave." 
 
 "Where you going to get your 
 paint ?" 
 "I dunno." 
 
 "Minn's got some paints in her 
 room that she makes flowers 
 out of." 
 
 "Let's look at 'em." 
 The boys clattered up the back 
 stairs. Mrs. Hitchcock glanced 
 at them with suspicion, but she was too 
 busy to investigate, and the quiet that 
 32
 
 settled on the house made her forget 
 them. Chingachgook and Uncas, streaked 
 with ochre and vermilion, were soon 
 creeping cautiously down the hall. 
 
 "Sh ! We can't go down the stairs; 
 ma'll nab us." 
 
 "Let's climb down the 
 porch." 
 
 "Bully!" 
 
 "Where's the guns?" 
 
 "They're out on the back 
 fence." 
 
 The boys slipped from the 
 window to the porch roof and 
 clambered down the apple 
 tree that hung over it. It was 
 eminently the proper thing to do. Shorty 
 had three streaks of yellow across his 
 forehead and three of red on each cheek 
 and a bit of each on his chin. Spot was 
 also in war paint. If Mrs. Hitchcock had 
 seen them, the troops might have been 
 called out. 
 
 "Cut for the back fence." 
 
 "Take a little corn along to roast." 
 
 The boys slipped through the garden 
 and were soon lost to view in the dense 
 33
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 forest of sweet corn. Having secured the 
 guns, marvelous instruments sawed or 
 whittled out of wood, they slipped through 
 the fence to a back street, where they 
 met Sam, the village negro, face to face. 
 "Fo' God!" exclaimed the astonished 
 colored man. "What yo' all done got 
 on yo' count'nances ? Yah, 
 yah, yah !" 
 
 The boys started and ran. 
 "Say, Spot, shall we drop 
 'im?" 
 
 "Won't the noise of the 
 guns bring the Hurons 
 down on us?" 
 
 "We can walk backwards 
 in the water and cover our 
 trail." 
 
 "All right, you drop 'im." 
 Chingachgook rested his rifle against a 
 tree and drew a long bead on the unsus- 
 pecting negro, who was now far down the 
 street. 
 "Bang!!" 
 
 "Shall we slip back an' scalp 'im?" 
 "No, the Hurons are all around us. Sh ! 
 Drop for your life !" 
 34
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 The boys fell flat on their stomachs, 
 and wiggled and squirmed their way 
 under the fence and in among the trees 
 of Slim Jones' yard. Then they arose, 
 looked carefully around, and, bent nearly 
 double, with their guns trailing, ran swiftly 
 from tree to tree. 
 
 "Guess we've thrown em off the scent," 
 said Spot, breathlessly. 
 
 "The varmints are awful cunning," re- 
 plied Shorty, suspiciously examining a 
 broken branch. "I don't like the looks 
 of this." 
 
 "Let's take to the water." 
 
 The boys stepped into an imaginary 
 stream and waded the length of the 
 yard. 
 
 "Hello, there ! What's the row ?" 
 
 It was Slim Jones, the fat boy, who was 
 watching them with great interest from 
 the porch. 
 
 "S sh ! Drop for your life! The 
 Hurons is on our trail !" 
 
 Slim Jones dropped like a bag of sand, 
 and wormed his way to the side of the 
 scouts. 
 
 "How we goin' to escape?" he puffed. 
 35
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "Git your gun ! We're goin' to make 
 for the cave. It's our last chance!" 
 
 Slim Jones doubled heavily on his trail 
 and made for the barn. He soon re- 
 appeared bearing his trusty rifle. It had 
 several notches cut in the stock, indica- 
 ting the number of hostile Indians Slim 
 had slain. 
 
 "Now let's make a dash for 
 the woods. We'll surprise 
 them before they have time 
 to fire." 
 
 The three boys, half craw- 
 ling, half running, trailed 
 across the field back of Slim 
 Jones' house, then over the 
 fence and through the pasture 
 lot. A herd of cows, peace- 
 fully chewing the cud, looked 
 at them with large eyes, but made no 
 move. Spot Maloney could not resist the 
 temptation. Bang! He had shot at them. 
 "Hold on, you durn fool! What you 
 doing that for?" 
 
 "We've got to have some buffalo meat 
 for supper." 
 
 "No, we ain't neither. We can't light 
 36
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 some game 
 
 a fire to-night. It will bring the 
 Hurons down on us." 
 
 Shorty shielded his eyes 
 with his hand and swept 
 the horizon anxiously. 
 "That was an injoo- 
 dicious shot. I don't 
 like the indications." 
 "Aw, get out! I 
 say we got to have 
 supper." 
 
 "Trap it, then. We can't take chances." 
 The boys were now on the edge of the 
 woods and moved along freely without 
 any precautions. There was a series of 
 cliffs and rocky canons ahead of them, 
 which were known as the first, second, 
 and third cliffs. The first cliff was gen- 
 erally the limit of the ex- 
 plorations of the smaller 
 fry. The second and third 
 cliffs were considered suffi- 
 ciently remote and deep in 
 the recesses of the forest 
 to give honorable shelter to the 
 gang. There was a pretty good 
 cave in the first cliff, but it was too 
 37
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 generally known to be of much inter- 
 est. When the first cliff was reached, 
 Slim Jones began to show signs of 
 fatigue. 
 
 "Say, let's stop at the first cliff and dig 
 the cave in further." 
 
 " Tain't safe," replied Spot. "They're 
 too close to us. Besides, nothing but the 
 kids go there." 
 
 "Let's go to the Pirates' Cave in back 
 of the second cliff," suggested Shorty. 
 "We're pretty safe there." 
 
 "I ain't goin' there," protested Slim; 
 "it's too durn far." 
 
 "Oh, get out ! You come along. It's 
 only the next cliff." 
 
 "Naw, I won't do it." 
 
 "Well, stay here if you wanter, then. 
 Me an' Spot's going to find some treasure 
 an' make a fire an' trap game an' get 
 something to eat." 
 
 The idea of something to eat stirred 
 the fat boy like a bugle call. 
 
 "You ain't got any matches." 
 
 Shorty put his hand in his pocket and 
 drew out half a dozen dirty matches. 
 
 "Whatcher got to eat?" 
 38
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 Spot carefully unrolled a pa- 
 per and showed three ears of sweet r^-^j 
 corn. 
 
 "Roast corn and jerked buffaler 
 meat ain't so bad." 
 
 Slim's objections were melting 
 away, and he followed the party 
 as they plunged again into the 
 forest and were soon lost to view. 
 
 Climbing the second cliff was a poser 
 for Slim Jones, but he finally made it, and 
 sat down to get his breath while Shorty 
 and Spot were dashing around, rolling 
 boulders down the cliff, banging at imag- 
 inary game, or jumping from the rocks 
 and catching small trees for a swing in 
 a way that would have thrown their 
 mothers into hysterics. 
 
 When Slim had recovered his breath 
 and the other boys had tired of the 
 fun, they climbed over the rocks farther 
 into the tall timber, which was 
 divided near the cliff into two 
 parts by a rocky gorge. On 
 one side of this gorge the 
 rocks had fallen away in 
 titanic confusion, making 
 39
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 a fine fireplace. Farther down the gorge 
 on the same side was a deep cave. The 
 boys looked around with exultation. 
 "Say, ain't this great !" 
 "Bully!" 
 "Ever been up here before, Slim ?" 
 
 "No. Pop Rollins told me 
 about it, though. He said pirates 
 came up the river and buried 
 somethin' in it." 
 
 "Shucks! How does Pop 
 know?" 
 
 "He says Uncle Ellery told 
 him one day up to the grave- 
 yard, and pointed out the place 
 so he knew it. 
 
 "Why didn't Pop dig for it ?" 
 "He did, but he says the bottom of the 
 cave was solid rock and there warn't 
 nothin' buried in it." 
 
 "Thunder! Let's go see!" 
 The boys made a dive for the cave and 
 crawled into the dark, cavernous opening. 
 The floor of the place was carpeted with 
 dead leaves, blown in by the wind. These 
 the boys scratched away. 
 "Gosh ! It's all rock !" said Shorty. 
 40
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 They sat down and looked around dis- 
 contentedly. 
 
 "Perhaps it was another cave." 
 
 "P'raps." 
 
 Spot Maloney was prying away at a 
 rock wedged in at the farther end of 
 the cave. 
 
 "Say, she's loose !" 
 
 Hope sprang up like a fountain in the 
 hearts of the boys. Here was, 
 if not a mystery, at least some- 
 thing to work on. A boy is not 
 satisfied if he is not expending 
 his energy, provided only that 
 this energy is not expended on 
 chores, or what is considered 
 work in the technical sense. 
 That is utter weariness, even 
 before it is begun. 
 
 "Brace against the rock, Spot," said 
 Shorty, "an' git yer feet against it. Git 
 under it, Slim." 
 
 The rock came out with a jerk, and 
 the boys fell in a heap, with the rock on 
 Shorty's leg. 
 
 "O o! Roll her off, Spot! She's 
 breaking my leg." 
 
 4'
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 Slim and Spot put their weight to it, 
 and Shorty got out from under and sat 
 down to see if he was all right. When 
 the damage was found to consist merely 
 of a little broken skin, the boys turned to 
 the hole in the wall. It was small, but it 
 opened into something, and they were 
 filled with the lust for adventure and 
 treasure. 
 
 "You crawl in, Shorty; you're the slim- 
 mest," said Spot. 
 
 Shorty looked at the dark hole dubi- 
 ously. 
 
 "I don't want to." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "P'raps there's a hole in there that'll 
 let a feller down so's he can't get 
 back." 
 
 "Throw a rock in and listen." 
 
 The rock dropped in without any rev- 
 erberations from the bowels of the 
 earth. But the place was as dark as 
 pitch. 
 
 "You crawl in, Spot." 
 
 "I can't get through." 
 
 "Try it." 
 
 "It ain't no use. You're the smallest." 
 42
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "Perhaps the skellerton of the pirate's 
 buried over the money," suggested Slim. 
 
 This suggestion was not well 
 received. 
 
 "Wonder if his durned old 
 ghost's guardin' the treasure." 
 
 "What if 'tis? He couldn't walk only 
 at midnight." 
 
 "That's so. And there wouldn't be any 
 money only at midnight. It disappears 
 at day-time, they say." 
 
 "We might come up and dig at mid- 
 night," suggested Slim Jones. 
 
 "Well, that's a good one. How yer 
 goin' to wake up ?" 
 
 "Keep awake till then an' climb out 
 the winder." 
 
 "Why not let Slim crawl in ?" 
 This suggestion was received with 
 laughter, but Slim took offense at it, and 
 there might have been trouble 
 if Spot Maloney had not at 
 this time recovered from the 
 pirate's ghost scare and begun 
 to back into the hole, kicking 
 around with his feet to see if 
 there was a firm bottom. 
 43
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "How does she feel, Spot?" 
 
 "All right. Leggo my arms ! I can't 
 kick." 
 
 Spot wormed and pushed and crowded 
 and grunted, but finally, after a supreme 
 effort, his shoulders went through and he 
 disappeared. 
 
 "Spot!" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "What's in there ?" 
 
 "Nothin'." 
 
 "How big is she?" 
 
 ' 'Bout as big as the other. Gimme a 
 match." 
 
 The match was handed in, and the two 
 boys outside saw Spot light it and look 
 around. 
 
 "The floor's dirt! Yessir! I can dig in it !" 
 
 "Say, it's the pirate's cave, for sure !" 
 
 "You'll find the skellerton first." This 
 comforting remark was volunteered by 
 Slim Jones. 
 
 Spot stopped digging. 
 
 "Guess I'll come out now." 
 
 "Whaffor?" 
 
 "We'll have to have a shovel." 
 
 "That's so." 
 
 44
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 Silence for a moment. 
 
 "O o ! O o !" 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "I've got something!" 
 
 "What is it? What is it?" 
 
 Spot's head and hand appeared at the 
 opening, the latter grasping a claw-full of 
 dirt and two or three indelible pencils in 
 glass cases. The boys pounced on them 
 and took them to the opening 
 of the cave to get a better 
 light. 
 
 A loud clamor arose inside. 
 Spot was trying to get out to 
 examine them also, but found 
 that he was stuck fast. 
 
 "Say, Shorty ! Shorty ! Slim ! I can't get 
 out! Help!" 
 
 The boys crawled back and tried to pull 
 Spot out, but his shoulders were wedged 
 in between the rocks. He started to cry, 
 but Shorty cut him off. 
 
 "Cork up ! We.'ll get you out. Stop 
 kickin'. Let's see what we'd better do." 
 
 The boys held a council of war, and 
 then Spot had another time of ineffective 
 squirming and kicking. 
 45
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "Say, we'll have to go down and get a 
 stonecutter." 
 
 "What, an' leave me here all the after- 
 noon ! No, you don't !" 
 
 Slim Jones, who had been looking 
 around, had at this point an inspiration. 
 
 "Get back in, Spot, an' we'll take a rock 
 an' make the hole bigger." 
 
 Spot squirmed back and with big stones 
 the boys pounded away at the sides of the 
 opening. Chips of the rock fell off from 
 time to time, as a lucky hit was made, and 
 soon Spot, torn and dirty, crawled out. 
 
 "My gosh ! I wouldn't go in there again 
 for nothin'." 
 
 "You crawl in, Shorty," suggested Slim 
 Jones. 
 
 "Naw! Git out." 
 
 "We'll git a shovel and a hammer an' 
 come again," suggested Spot. 
 
 "That's so." 
 
 The boys eyed the glass cases and the 
 indelible pencils greedily. 
 
 "Ain't they great?" 
 
 "You bet !" 
 
 "Say, we must stop up that hole again." 
 
 The boulder was rolled back into place 
 46
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 and the chinks and crevices filled with 
 moss and earth. 
 
 "There now, swear not to tell." 
 The boys held up their heads and 
 "crossed their throats" with their fore- 
 fingers, repeating the formula: 
 
 "Cross yer throat 
 
 Black and blue! 
 Lay me down, 
 An' cut me in two!" 
 
 As they were making their way 
 home, laden with this dark, mysteri- 
 ous secret, the bushes were pushed 
 cautiously aside, and the conspira- 
 tors were watched by a pair of 
 stealthy eyes. 
 
 Ha ! It was Peewee Jackson, the 
 Avenger ! 
 
 The pencils were divided and Shorty 
 hid his in the haymow. 
 
 This incident was destined to have an 
 important influence on the lives of the 
 gang. It takes a very small thing to make 
 a boy happy, and he falls into the opposite 
 state with equal facility. The hidden 
 pencils reposing so quietly in their glass 
 47
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 cases became a tremendous burden on 
 Shorty's mind. It was not until after he 
 had gone to bed that the terrible situation 
 flashed upon him. He wondered that he 
 had not thought of it before. He had 
 read in the paper that Spaulding's sta- 
 tionery store had been entered by burg- 
 lars. Shorty felt sure that 
 they had planted their plunder 
 in the cave and that he and 
 Spot and Slim had found it. 
 
 "My gracious ! What if we 
 are found with stolen property 
 in our possession!" he thought 
 to himself, breaking out into 
 a cold perspiration. "There 
 would be a policeman up here 
 in fifteen minutes." 
 Shorty's dreams thereafter became 
 troubled with visions of uniforms, detect- 
 ives, reform schools, and jails. 
 
 He ate his breakfast gloomily the next 
 morning, and the cloud did not rise over 
 the Sabbath. He laid the case before his 
 partners in the crime, and gloom settled 
 in a heavy pall over the rest of the gang 
 also, although Shorty took the matter 
 48
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 most to heart. On Monday every boy's 
 hand appeared to be against him. Several 
 boys knocked his cap off, and fights were 
 narrowly averted. 
 
 "What have I got to live for, anyway?" 
 he thought to himself. "Everybody will 
 be kicking at me worse than ever, when 
 they know about it. I believe I'll run 
 away and go out on 
 the plains." 
 
 And Shorty did not 
 yet know the worst. 
 After the boys had 
 
 left the cave, Peewee //*>" V\ <- 
 Jackson, scouting (3> -&J& 
 along their trail, ^ '' ft ' ^ 
 
 made hisway into the 
 
 place and carefully examined the traces 
 left by them in their hurried departure. 
 What Peewee wanted now was a clue. If 
 he could get that, he would hold the fate 
 of the gang in the hollow of his hand ! 
 
 Peewee made a hurried search but 
 could find nothing. He failed to notice 
 the concealed entrance and came to the 
 conclusion that the gang had carried 
 their "plant" away. Then he stole cau- 
 49
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 tiously through the forest looking for 
 footprints in the soft mold, carefully 
 examining the broken branches and 
 keeping a sharp watch-out for Indians. 
 The thing to do, he concluded, was to 
 shadow Shorty as much as possible and 
 to make a secret search of his barn at 
 the first opportunity. Before he went to 
 bed that night Peewee Jackson cu f a deep 
 notch in the handle of his tomahawk,
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 In Which Uncle Ellery Makes a Plea for an Improved 
 Order of Society. 
 
 WE LOOK back at boyhood through 
 a glamour. In perspective the 
 hard lines are worn away and the rough 
 places take on the mellowness of dis- 
 tance. But the problems that the boy 
 has to face are as real as those of later 
 life, although he usually encounters them 
 with a freer spirit and in this way is 
 more likely to over-ride them. 
 Wednesday was always a partic- 
 ularly trying day for Shorty. On 
 the morning of that day the ora- 
 tors of the public schools of Stony 
 Lonesome were given an enforced 
 opportunity to fire the childish 
 hearts of their schoolmates. This 
 particular Wednesday, thanks to 
 the indelible pencils, was more 
 than ever the day when every- 
 thing went wrong with Shorty, injj ft 7
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 He took the platform and started out 
 bravely: 
 
 "Friends, I come not here to talk," 
 
 when he caught Slim Jones' eye and 
 thought of the stolen property in the hay- 
 mow, and of the dark cloud that hung 
 over the blighted lives 
 of his friends. He lost 
 all connection with the 
 rest of the speech and 
 took his seat amid the de- 
 risive laughter of the 
 school. His soul was filled 
 with distaste for the com- 
 pany of his fellow men. 
 To be sure, he laughed 
 louder than anybody else 
 when Spot Maloney afterwards marched 
 to the edge of the rostrum and began: 
 
 "Stan', the ground's your own, my braves," 
 
 and then, in shifting his feet, lost his bal- 
 ance and stepped off the edge of the 
 platform, waving his arms in a vain effort 
 to recover himself. But even this happy 
 incident did not allay Shorty's sense of 
 5 2
 
 Yes, and 
 
 his own humiliating experience, and the 
 boys did not neglect to keep it alive in 
 his breast. 
 
 After school he loafed in the swing in 
 the barn thinking matters over; and he 
 decided that his prospects in life had 
 been ruined by his own folly, 
 not only that: here he was se- 
 creting stolen property and the 
 police likely to swoop down 
 upon him at any moment. This 
 was no ordinary affair. It was a 
 matter of the state's prison and 
 hard labor. He could almost 
 hear Mrs. Watson saying to the 
 neighbors: 
 
 "I knew that boy would come 
 to some bad end." 
 
 And here he was already 
 within shooting distance of ruin and dis- 
 grace. As Shorty sat in the swing, twist- 
 ing himself up and letting the ropes uncoil 
 themselves, his attention was caught by a 
 square of sunlight thrown on the barn 
 floor by a window. The way it dodged 
 around when he became dizzy puzzled 
 him. 
 
 53
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "I wonder where that sunlight goes 
 when I ain't looking at it," he thought. 
 "S'pose there's nobody in the world look- 
 ing at it, how do they know it is there ?" 
 
 Shorty jumped out of the swing and 
 ran into the horse's stall to escape the 
 sunlight. Then he suddenly jumped out 
 at it to see if he could not catch the beam 
 in the act of falling. No, it was too quick 
 for him. He puzzled over this mystery 
 in a desultory way and decided that 
 nobody knew about such things as that. 
 
 After supper it rained and then cleared 
 up again. Shorty stood on the bridge 
 over the railroad track watching a stream 
 of water trickle down on the rails. Spot 
 Maloney and Slim Jones soon joined him 
 and became equally absorbed in the 
 phenomenon. 
 
 "Say," said Spot, "let's dam her up and 
 let her loose on the train." 
 
 This was a brilliant idea. The stream 
 was soon held in check by mud and leaves 
 until a hogshead of water had accum- 
 ulated that nearly burst all barriers 
 by its own weight. Providence came 
 to the boys' assistance with a gravel 
 54
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 train. A load of Irish labor- 
 ers sat along the edges of 
 the flat cars smoking short clay 1-^ 
 pipes. As the train approached the 
 bridge the boys broke the dam and 
 the water did the rest. A loud chorus 
 of rich and picturesque conversa- 
 tion, accompanied by stones and 
 clubs, came flying up over the bridge, 
 and the boys fled out of range with 
 derisive yells and hoots. 
 
 "Wasn't that bully?" 
 
 "You bet !" 
 
 "Say, Shorty, see that sign up there ?" 
 
 "Yep." 
 
 It was an advertisement of a brand of 
 tobacco popular in those days, and read 
 in large letters, "Chew Jackson's Best." 
 A new bit of slang was just coming into 
 use in Stony Lonesome. An offended 
 boy was accustomed to remark to an 
 enemy, "Say, I'll chew your ear." Spot's 
 alert brain caught the hint. In two min- 
 utes the boys were at work with ladders 
 and saws robbing other signs of their let- 
 ters until they had secured the necessary 
 word. This they nailed over the word 
 55
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "best" in the tobacco sign, and the care- 
 less world, careless no longer, read the 
 remarkable advice, "Chew Jackson's 
 Ear." 
 
 The boys considered this one of the 
 finest jokes on record, and had not the 
 cloud of indelible pencils hung over them, 
 their cups of joy would have run over. 
 
 It may seem surprising that a little 
 thing like a handful of indelible pencils 
 should weigh so heavily on the boys' 
 minds, but the childish mind, through 
 racial heredity, is full of fear. It is also 
 very imaginative, and when fear is once 
 aroused it is likely to become dominant. 
 
 The boys had it all settled, that by 
 secreting stolen property they had be- 
 come participes criminis. They did not 
 dare confess their discovery for fear that 
 they themselves would be accused of the 
 robbery, and they had argued it out that 
 they could not disprove the charge. Did 
 they not hold a part of the stolen prop- 
 erty concealed ? 
 
 So into the glorious music of summer, 
 with its freedom and wild life, with its 
 baseball, three -old -cat, the swimming 
 56
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 hole, the hunting and trapping 
 expeditions, and the encounters 
 with hostile Indians, the indeli- 
 ble pencils wove their strain of 
 dissonance, which wore on the 
 spirits of the gang perceptibly. 
 But just as men go to a philos- 
 ophy or to a religious teacher 
 for help, so in their perplexity 
 the boys were accustomed to 
 go to Uncle Ellery Marsh; and to Uncle 
 Ellery, Shorty now made his way. 
 
 Uncle Ellery was a grown-up boy him- 
 self. He sympathized with the ways of 
 boys and often joined in their plans and 
 pleasures to the extent of leading parties 
 out to the bog after blackberries, or of 
 taking part in some harmless prac- 
 tical joke. When the boys called 
 on him, Uncle Ellery was wont to 
 go on with his work, planing or 
 polishing a board, accompanying 
 the operation of his hands by a 
 stream of talk or of stories that 
 often held the boys quiet for half 
 an hour or more at a time. 
 "Uncle Ellery," said Shorty, 
 57
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 standing against the bench with his hands 
 in his pockets, "I guess I'll run away." 
 
 "Em m m," said Uncle Ellery, squint- 
 ing along a coffin board to see if it was 
 straight, "can't ye get enough to eat ?" 
 "Sure! Taint that." 
 "P'raps you're looking for adventure, 
 bloodshed, cowboys, Indians, and that 
 kind of thing." 
 
 Slim Jones and Spot Maloney had 
 strayed into the shop and were run- 
 ning their fingers along the edges of 
 the tools and listening gloomily. 
 Shorty became suddenly conscious of 
 his prominence in the conversation 
 and wriggled uneasily. 
 
 "N no, not exactly." 
 "Did I ever tell you the story of the 
 wasp and the bee ?" asked Uncle Ellery, 
 polishing in the stain that he was applying. 
 "No, what is it?" 
 
 The boys crowded nearer, and Uncle 
 Ellery, without stopping his work, began 
 his story. 
 
 "Wai, you see, it was something like 
 this: The bee was out one day about her 
 business as usual, when a wasp who hap- 
 58
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 pened to meet her said kind o' care- 
 less like, 
 
 ' 'How's the honey business?' 
 
 ' 'Good. Thank you for askin,' said 
 the bee, not stoppin' her work. 'I ain't 
 got any complaint to make of the year's 
 results. The hive is doing twenty per 
 cent more business than it done last 
 year.' 
 
 "Now, you boys know that the wasp is 
 one of those adventurous and military 
 swashbucklers who wear their hats on 
 one side and always carry 
 their swords handy, ready 
 to punish insults. He's 
 awful quick to take offense, too. He had 
 been amused at the bee for working so 
 much, and as time was hanging kind o' 
 heavy on his hands, he thought he would 
 have a little fun at her expense. 
 
 ' 'I s'pose you don't mind tellin' me 
 what your idea is in getting all that sur- 
 plus honey, do you ?' he asked, kind of 
 lightly, you know, clanking his sword 
 against his heels and putting on an easy 
 air. 
 
 ' 'No.' says the bee, 'I dunno as I do. 
 59
 
 The firm of Bee & Co. isn't working for 
 its health.' 
 
 'You lay up a lot of extra stuff,' 
 argued the wasp, 'and the man that owns 
 your hive takes it all away.' 
 
 ' 'We pay a good rent for protection,' 
 replied the bee, 'and we are secure in the 
 prosecution of our business. The hive 
 always gets a good living and is steadily 
 growing in wealth and population.' 
 "That made the wasp laugh. 
 1 'We don't need protection.' 
 ' 'No ?' asked the bee. 'I noticed that 
 your paper nest on the barn rafters was 
 torn down by the boys last month.' 
 
 "That made the wasp awful mad. He 
 leaped to his feet with 
 a fierce cuss word 
 and drew his weapon. 
 ' 'Cusses on them !' 
 he said in a shrill 
 voice. 'They rued 
 the day that they in- 
 terfered with us. I 
 raised a bump on 
 the farmer's child as 
 big as a pumpkin. 
 60
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 There will be no more nest-tearing. We 
 are rebuilding under the eaves.' 
 
 "The bee smiled. 
 
 ' 'We are taken into the cellar when 
 the cold weather comes. The wasp peo- 
 ple are left to freeze to death. We pay 
 for this and we get our money's worth. 
 Our partnership with man is one 
 of our most valuable assets.' 
 
 "Here a loud noise arose in the 
 barnyard. The wasp jumped to 
 his feet and drew his sword. 
 
 'The boys are attacking your 
 nest again/ said the bee, seriously. 
 
 "Whatever they may say about 
 the wasp, you boys know that he 
 ain't a coward. He just pulled his 
 
 'IfJfi'W* 
 
 hat down over his eyes and jumped "' 
 
 in. His conduct in action is dreadfully 
 reckless, and he slashed about regardless, 
 uttering fierce oaths. His first victim was 
 the boy's father. He caught him on the 
 neck and lifted him two feet into the air. 
 Then he struck the cross bull until he 
 saw red and tipped over the corn crib. 
 The boy ran when he saw the trouble, but 
 another wasp handed him one on the 
 61
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 stocking that made him holler. But the 
 nest was in ruins just the same. 
 
 "The bee watched the fight a minute and 
 then went back to her honey gatherin'. 
 
 'There is only one thing that will save 
 them wasp fellows,' she thought, 'and that 
 is the growth of civilized and commercial 
 idees among them, instead of the idees of 
 war and conquest. No na- 
 tion that is founded on war 
 and lickin' other fellows is 
 ever built up permanently; 
 that is, for good and all, 
 you know. It will grow 
 rich for a time, perhaps, 
 from plunder and big taxes, 
 but fightin' teaches idees 
 that bring their own pun- 
 ishment. No truly great 
 be held together by force 
 Manufacturin', trade, and 
 brotherhood are the cornerstones of the 
 beehive. It is bound to prosper so long 
 as it depends on these principles. I can't 
 see nothin' for the wasps but destruc- 
 tion.' ' 
 
 Uncle Ellery, who was delighted with 
 62 
 
 nation can 
 and fraud.
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 his own performance, looked wisely at 
 the boys. 
 
 "Wasps ain't no good, anyway," said 
 Slim Jones. "They's a nest under the 
 sidewalk down by Shorty's house, and 
 they got Mike Quinn on the leg day 
 before yesterday." 
 
 "Wai," said Uncle Ellery, "they've 
 probably got their uses, but we don't just 
 know what they are. So they's 
 fellows who have to fight Indians 
 and kill bears so the country can 
 settle up, but it ain't as nice work 
 as it's pictured. No, sir, Stony 
 Lonesome's good enough for 
 me!" 
 
 The boys wandered off towards 
 the river, and Uncle Ellery, smil- 
 ing in self-congratulation, placed another 
 coffin on end against the wall. Then he 
 stopped and thought, "I wonder what 
 them boys have got in their heads. Some 
 deviltry, probably." 
 
 Uncle Ellery did not know that so sim- 
 ple a thing as a handful of indelible 
 pencils was keeping his old friend Shorty 
 awake nights. He thought that possibly 
 63
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 the boy had broken the window in the 
 schoolhouse, a crime which was at that 
 time agitating Stony Lonesome. 
 Or he figured that perhaps the 
 boys knew who did it and that 
 the strain on them in keeping 
 quiet was the cause of their 
 trouble. If fifty thousand 
 dollars had been hidden in 
 the haymow, and the boys 
 had secured it by breaking 
 into the Stony Lonesome Savings 
 Bank, the weight on their minds 
 could hardly have been heavier. Happily, 
 the boy nature is elastic, and he has 
 moments when he rises above his bur- 
 dens, whether they are represented by 
 two cords of wood that must be sawed 
 into stove lengths, or by the dark and 
 treacherous possibilities that are stored 
 up in hidden plunder. 
 
 If Shorty had seen the cautious figure 
 ducking and doubling around his barn in 
 the search for the damning evidence that 
 would make a clear case against him and 
 his gang, the burden would have been a 
 much more intolerable one. As it was, 
 64
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 both he and the other culprits were bliss- 
 fully unconscious that Peewee was on the 
 trail, although they felt that the sword of 
 justice was hanging over their heads by a 
 frayed thread.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 In Which the Boys Have an Adventure with the 
 Big Bell. 
 
 WHILE the boys did not forget 
 the terrible cloud of circum- 
 stantial evidence that their 
 fertile minds had called 
 down upon them, there 
 //_j were, nevertheless, bright 
 spots in the darkness. They 
 were, to be sure, living over 
 a sleeping volcano that might 
 blow them sky high at any moment; 
 but where danger is constant we grow 
 familiar with it, and even take a little 
 importance to ourselves over our imper- 
 turbability. 
 
 The boys were desperately afraid that 
 one of them would tell his father of the 
 find, or would throw himself on the mercy 
 of the court, and they pledged each other 
 to keep the secret until they could agree 
 on what should be done. Meantime, 
 everything was going on without a jar, 
 66
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 and every day brought its compensa- 
 tions. 
 
 "Say, Shorty, I'll tell you what let's do," 
 said Spot one Wednesday afternoon; 
 "let's set her." 
 
 The inspiration seized him as he stood 
 with his hands in his pockets, looking 
 at the big Baptist church steeple. 
 
 "Let's set the bell!" 
 
 "Gosh! We can't do it." 
 
 "Aw, yes we can. We'll 
 tie the tongue an' ring 'er 
 up. Then one fellow can 
 hold her an' the other un- 
 tie the tongue an' we'll 
 move." 
 
 "Gosh ! But what if she fell over 
 before we got away ?" 
 
 The boys stood looking at each other 
 in awe over this fearful possibility. The 
 project they had in mind was to "set" the 
 Baptist bell, a monster chunk of noisy 
 metal that called the people of Stony 
 Lonesome to church on Sunday, rang the 
 noon hour, a curfew alarm at 9 p.m., and 
 was used by anybody and everybody in 
 case of fire or of flood. "Setting the bell," 
 67
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 as it is technically termed, is ringing it up 
 until it "stands on its head" and balances 
 there, ready to tip over with a tremendous 
 clangor at the least pull of the rope. 
 
 There was a science to bell ringing of 
 the old-fashioned order, in which every 
 boy longed to become an expert. The 
 rope was attached to the wheel in such 
 a way that there was first the long pull, 
 then what is known as the "back stroke." 
 The ringer caught this stroke with a quick 
 pull, adding to the impetus of the bell 
 until it was finally "set," or balanced, with 
 its mouth open to the sky. As the rope 
 slowed up before the bell tipped over the 
 other way, the expert operator seized it 
 and held the bell easily on the balance. 
 If he was not an expert, the bell went 
 over before he caught it, and he was 
 either carried up and bumped against 
 the ceiling, or had a pair of skinned hands 
 to show to his friends. Ringing the bell 
 after it was set consisted in tipping the 
 bell over and up the other side and bring- 
 ing it back to a set again, with a long pull 
 of the rope, the bell giving out two mighty 
 notes: 
 
 68
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "Boom m m Boom m m !" 
 Shorty Hitchcock and Spot Maloney 
 had often watched the scientific work of 
 the policeman whom Stony Lonesome 
 employed to ring the noon and nine 
 o'clock alarms. In case of fire their 
 first impulse was to practice on the bell 
 and to let the fire go for a half hour or 
 so on the risk that they were proclaim- 
 ing a false alarm. 
 
 But to-day, as they were going by the 
 church, a new and unfortunate idea had 
 taken shape in the mind of Spot Ma- 
 loney, filling his heart with suppressed 
 excitement. 
 
 "Gosh! We'll set 'er an' leave 'er set !" 
 The idea was to give the next per- 
 son who attempted to ring the 
 bell a surprise that would lead 
 him to think the building was 
 falling. The door of the 
 vestibule of the church was 
 always open to give access to 
 the bell rope in case of fire, 
 but the boys, to their disgust, 
 found the door to the steeple stairs care- 
 fully locked. Spot, who lived near by, 
 69
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 hurried home to get a collection of keys, 
 while Shorty sat down in the cool vesti- 
 bule and read Moccasin Mose, the Avenger. 
 When Spot came back with half a 
 dozen keys, their high hopes were soon 
 extinguished. Not a key would fit. 
 
 The boys walked around the great 
 barn-like structure, and in their desper- 
 ation meditated climbing the 
 trees and trying to drop from 
 them to the roof. Even this 
 wild venture would have proved 
 useless, for the steeple towered 
 high above the sloping roof. 
 "Say, Spot !" 
 "What?" 
 
 "Where d'you s'pose that cel- 
 lar window goes to ?" 
 
 "I dunno." 
 The basement of the church was in the 
 rear, and the front part or vestibule was 
 built with the floor about a foot above the 
 ground. Even a dog would have had 
 trouble in crawling under it, but the boys 
 were equal to almost anything in the line 
 of strategy, and they wormed themselves 
 through the opening and scraped along 
 70
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 between tne cobwebby floor and the damp 
 ground. 
 
 "Say, Spot !" 
 "What?" 
 
 "What if we should get caught in here 
 and couldn't get out ?" 
 "Gosh !" 
 
 "Or s'pose a cattymount had cubs in a 
 nest in under here !" 
 "Or a skunk !" 
 
 The boys stopped worming along and 
 listened. 
 
 "I don't see no fiery eyes shinin' in 
 the dark, way they did in Deadwood 
 Dick's cave, do you ?" 
 "Naw. What's the use of bein' afraid?" 
 "Say !" 
 "What?" 
 
 "Why couldn't we dig this out up 
 near the wall an' have a cave ?" 
 
 "My g'oodness, haven't we 
 '^s ^ got into trouble enough with 
 caves ? I seen a detective 
 lookin' at my barn yester- 
 day." 
 
 Spot turned sick and 
 white with fear.
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "You never either. You're lyin'." 
 
 "Well, p'raps it wasn't a detective. I 
 looked to see if I couldn't see that he had 
 a star on his vest an' I saw somethin' 
 glitter. P'raps 'twas a secret society 
 badge." 
 
 "Sure, 'twas a badge. Say, Shorty, 
 don't you let on to your father nothin' 
 about them pencils." 
 
 "Well, I guess not." 
 
 "Swear it ?" 
 
 "Sure, I'll swear it." 
 
 "Hold up your hand." 
 
 Shorty held up one grimy paw as best 
 he could in his cramped position, and said: 
 
 "I promise never to tell about the plun- 
 der until we all agree to tell together. 
 Now you swear, Spot."
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 Spot took a similar oath. 
 
 "My gracious," said Shorty, "if they 
 caught us they'd slam us into the reform 
 school in fifteen minutes. Don't you ever 
 let on to Peewee Jackson, will you ?" 
 
 "Peewee !" cried Spot with the utmost 
 contempt. "Wai, I guess not." 
 
 "I've seen him twice around 
 barn. You don't s'pose he's on, do 
 you?'' 
 
 "Naw." 
 
 "Well, I hope not. He'd do us up 
 in ten minutes. Let's move over 
 where it's lighter." 
 
 The boys squirmed over toward 
 the front wall where a dim ray of light 
 shone down. 
 
 "Say!" 
 
 "What ?" 
 
 "Look at this light. Gol durn, if here 
 isn't a way up into the belfry !" 
 
 Both boys looked up between a curve 
 in the plastering and the outer wall of the 
 church, which seemed to run up into the 
 depths of space. 
 
 "Say, I bet we can nail some cleats on 
 them beams and climb her." 
 73
 
 "O o, look ! Here's the cleats the 
 carpenter left. I'm going to shin her." 
 "Say, you'll fall and break your neck." 
 "Naw, I won't neither." 
 
 Spot clambered up the side 
 of the wall like a monkey, and 
 pretty soon Shorty heard him 
 whisper back: 
 
 "Come on, I'm in the attic." 
 The wild sense of adventure, 
 craftiness, and Indian cunning 
 had full control now, and 
 Shorty clambered up and soon 
 crouched under the roof be- 
 side his brother desperado. 
 They crawled carefully along 
 the rafters and finally, breath- 
 less and perspiring, covered 
 with cobwebs, dust, and dirt, 
 sat gleefully together on the 
 belfry ladder. 
 
 "Ain't this great !" 
 "Bully good ! It beats Injuns." 
 They looked up to the trapdoor into 
 the belfry. 
 
 "Gosh ! Hope she ain't locked !" 
 "If she is, we'll bust her." 
 74
 
 "Do we darst to fix the bell ?" 
 
 "Course." 
 
 "What if they'd catch us ?" 
 
 "They'd send us to the reform school, 
 sure." 
 
 "Naw, they wouldn't. My father'd get 
 us off." 
 
 "Pa'd lam me good, though." 
 
 "Naw, he wouldn't. Yer ma'd beg 
 him off." 
 
 "We'll chanst it, anyway." 
 
 The boys made their way 
 to the trapdoor and found 
 it unlocked. They pushed 
 it up and clambered into 
 the little aerial chamber, 
 latticed in from observation 
 from the street, where the 
 bell hung like a great sleeping creature. 
 The boys were awe-struck at its size and 
 at the ponderous beams of wood that 
 supported it. Spot began to get uneasy. 
 
 "Gosh ! Let's not tie 'er. What if they 
 should ring for a fire after we'd got her 
 fixed ?" 
 
 "We'd holler down to them to quit till 
 we untied her." 
 
 75
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "Yes, and get lammed by the big police- 
 man." 
 
 "No, we wouldn't. We'd sneak down 
 between the plasterin' and they'd never 
 find us." 
 
 "That's so but gol durn I don't 
 like it!" 
 
 "Aw, what you 'fraid of? Gorry, but 
 we ain't got any string !" 
 "Take your jacket." 
 This suggestion was instantly acted 
 upon. Spot slipped off his coat, and in a 
 few moments it was wrapped around the 
 tongue of the bell, and the sleeves tied 
 carefully around one of the clappers, 
 firmly securing the tongue to the side 
 of the bell. 
 
 "Le's pull 'er up. 
 
 The boys stood on the wheel and 
 pushed, but in vain. The great mass 
 of metal would not move through 
 more than a quarter of the cir- 
 cle at the best they could do. 
 
 "We'll have to go down into 
 the attic an' ring her up." 
 
 "Gosh! I hope there won't 
 be a fire !" 
 76
 
 Perspiring and excited, the boys slipped 
 down through the trapdoor into the attic, 
 where the bell rope ran through the floor 
 into the vestibule below. 
 
 "Git hold of her, Shorty; hurry up !" 
 
 A creaking and groaning was heard 
 above as the great bell answered to the 
 first sturdy pulls on the rope. 
 
 "Ketch the back stroke," 
 gasped Spot. "Lam it to 
 Now, together !" 
 
 er. 
 
 Shorty said nothing, but 
 he panted and pulled till his 
 eyes stood out like marbles 
 and his breath came in 
 quick gasps. 
 
 "Now be ready to catch 
 'er. She's almost up." 
 
 The rope slacked a bit, then began to 
 run up a little faster. The bell was just 
 over the center of gravity. Both boys 
 grabbed the rope with desperation and 
 held the bell in place. 
 
 "Bully! She's set! She's set! Now 
 balance her." 
 
 The rope was pulled down just a trifle 
 and seemed to stick. The boys let go of 
 77
 
 T 
 
 it carefully. They knew the great bell 
 was poised in mid-air above them, and 
 would stay there until blown or pulled 
 over. They hurried up into the belfry, 
 where they wrestled with the mighty 
 problem of getting Spot's coat from 
 the tongue. 
 
 "Take your jacket and tie the wheel, 
 Shorty," said Spot. 
 
 This was no sooner said than done. 
 Every moment was now precious, for 
 something might happen at any time 
 something momentous and epochal. The 
 wheel was secured, and Spot climbed onto 
 the frame, leaned over the mouth of the 
 great bell and undid the sleeves of his 
 jacket from the clapper. The 
 bell was free to speak again. 
 The wheel was then released, 
 and the bell was ready for busi- 
 ness at the touch of the rope. 
 The boys were too excited 
 to say a word. They made a 
 plunge for the trapdoor, hur- 
 ried down the stairs, and began 
 to worm their way between 
 the plastering and the wall in 
 78
 
 dead silence. It was too critical a time 
 for speech. 
 
 They were soon on the ground, and the 
 snake process of reaching the cellar win- 
 dow began. Shorty reached it first and 
 was about to crawl out, when suddenly 
 he drew back, bumping Spot's head with 
 his feet and evoking much smothered 
 protest from that excited person. 
 
 "Shut up ! Durn, if there ain't 
 
 "Gosh! It ain't the police?" 
 
 "No; keep still; it's the sexton !" 
 
 The boys were as silent as specters, as 
 that hard-working and little-appreciated 
 gentleman walked by the window and 
 into the church to give it the weekly 
 sweeping and airing. They could hear 
 his step over their heads in the vestibule. 
 He walked by the bell rope without look- 
 ing at it, unlocked the inner doors, and 
 the boys heard him rummaging around 
 inside. 
 
 "Say !" 
 
 "What ?" 
 
 "We got ter move." 
 
 The desperadoes crawled out of the 
 window and doubled over like Delawares 
 79
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 on the trail. They fled around the corner 
 of the church and down Chickabiddy 
 Lane. They didn't stop to consult, but 
 instinctively separated and made 
 for their homes. 
 
 Away up in the air the conscious 
 bell stood poised like Mercury on 
 tiptoe, waiting to leap into the sky 
 from some Grecian hilltop. The 
 boys held another important secret locked 
 in their breasts and they were miserably 
 happy. 
 
 "Goodness gracious !" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Hitchcock at supper time. 
 "What on earth's the mat- 
 ter with that boy ?" 
 
 Shorty jumped with ter- 
 ror at the possibility of dis- 
 covery. 
 
 "Ain't nothin'," he said 
 indignantly. "What's the 
 matter?" 
 
 "What are you fidgeting 
 
 around for and listening all the time ? 
 
 Where did you get all that mud and those 
 
 cobwebs on you ? Why don't you eat 
 
 80
 
 your supper ? I'll have to give you a dose 
 of sas'prilla, I guess." 
 
 "I don't want no sas'prilla. I ain't 
 hungry to-night." 
 
 "Well, you go out on the porch and 
 brush yourself." 
 
 Shorty went out on the porch with the 
 brush and was flapping it around in the 
 useless and rebellious way in which boys 
 brush their clothes, now and then looking 
 through the trees where the Baptist 
 steeple seemed to stand out as if the 
 landscape had a sore thumb. 
 
 "Say, Shorty !" 
 
 It was Spot Maloney. He looked 
 sneaking and apprehensive, and he stood 
 half behind a tree, Indian fashion, to pre- 
 vent the white scouts from General Brad- 
 dock's army, who were everywhere 
 around, from getting a shot at him. 
 
 "Been to supper?" 
 
 "Yep." 
 
 "Come out here a minnit." 
 
 Shorty laid the brush on the window 
 sill, and dodged from tree to tree to avoid 
 stray bullets. 
 
 "Say, she ain't gone off yet." 
 81
 
 Nop." 
 
 "Do you know wnat night it is?" 
 "No." 
 
 "It's Wednesday ! To-night's prayer 
 meetin', an' they toll the bell at quarter 
 past seven !" 
 "Gosh! So 'tis." 
 
 The boys had been counting on having 
 the bell go off at nine o'clock 
 when the policeman rang the 
 curfew, but they had forgotten 
 that it was meeting night, and 
 that a noisy clamor at that 
 time would be little short of 
 scandalous. 
 
 "Say, do you 'spose when the 
 rope conies running down, it will 
 curl 'round old Bill Kendall's neck 
 and jerk him up to the ceilin' ?" 
 
 Spot looked the picture of an- 
 guish as he suggested this awful 
 possibility of injury to the sexton. 
 "Gorry ! I never thought of that. 
 'Twould break his durn old neck." 
 "You bet it would !" 
 The boys looked at eacn other 
 in wild surmise. 
 82
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "What would they do to us ?" 
 "It would be murder, wouldn't it?" 
 "Say, we better go down an' 
 tell 'im." 
 
 "P'raps 'twouldn't be murder if 
 we didn't go to do it." 
 
 "Let's try and see what we better 
 do." 
 
 Spot Maloney held out the back 
 of his hand and carefully spit on it. 
 Then with the forefinger of the 
 other hand, he struck a quick blow. The 
 omen flew in a direction away from the 
 church, and the boys were much relieved. 
 "It says, 'Keep away from the church,' ' 
 said Shorty. "I guess we'll chanst it." 
 
 "Let's go up on top of the barn and 
 hear her go off." 
 
 The boys scrambled up on the hen- 
 house and climbed the side of the barn 
 roof, pulling themselves up by the shingles 
 where they projected over the 
 edge. 
 
 Seated astride the ridgepole 
 they had a good view of the 
 town with its steeples and roofs. 
 The sun was setting, and the 
 83
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 western heavens were a blaze of light. 
 People were walking down the street after 
 supper to see the train come in. Some 
 of the boys were playing a vociferous 
 game of baseball over on the muster field. 
 
 In the quiet the bell of the Congrega- 
 tional church began to toll clear and sweet 
 for prayer meeting. Immediately the 
 Methodist bell took up the strain. 
 
 "Say, why don't she go? S'pose he 
 is on?" 
 
 The boys were becoming apprehensive. 
 Suddenly 
 
 Boom! ! Boom ! ! Bangerty bang ! ! 
 Boom ! Boom ! ! Boomerty Boom ! ! 
 Bangerty Bang-er-ty Boom ! ! Boom- 
 boom boom boom boom boom 
 boom boom boom 
 
 "Say, warn't that great ! He's got her 
 stopped, you see, and is tolling her. That 
 shows it didn't break his neck." 
 
 "You bet ! Wasn't that bully !" 
 
 The boys climbed down the barn chuck- 
 ling and punching each other and trying 
 to see which one could knock the other 
 off and break his leg or arm. Failing of 
 this innocent enjoyment, they made their 
 84
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 way over to the muster field and were 
 soon working their way to the bat, in a 
 hot game of scrub. 
 
 Meanwhile, Bill Kendall, the sexton, 
 tolled away at the bell, grumbling to 
 himself.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 In Which It Becomes Necessary to Found the "Patriots' 
 Defense Society." 
 
 W HATCHER grinnin at?" 
 "Nothin'." 
 
 Shorty sat on the green- 
 sward in front of Peewee Jack- 
 son's house, whittling out a 
 wooden tomahawk. Peewee 
 was standing inside the fence 
 that surrounded the yard, eat- 
 ing an apple and smiling provokingly. 
 "Whatcher grinnin' at ?" 
 "Nothin'." 
 
 "Then you better saw off." 
 "Guess I've got a license to grin!" 
 "Show it up." 
 "Don't hafter." 
 "Oh, don't?" 
 "No." 
 
 "If you know anything worth grinnin' 
 at, you better let her out." 
 
 "I don't tell all I know till the time 
 comes." 
 
 86
 
 Shorty stopped work and looked 
 in suspicion at Peewee, who con- 
 tinued to eat his apple with every 
 appearance of great good 
 nature. This fact was in 
 itself suspicious. As a 
 general thing Peewee was 
 glum. 
 
 "Yes'm." 
 
 Some one from the house called Peewee, 
 and as he went in he turned toward 
 Shorty, wagged his hand knowingly and 
 remarked: 
 
 "I'm onto you fellers. Tellin' about me 
 cuttin' the hose ! There's worse things 
 than cuttin' the hose, an' I never did it 
 neither, by gosh !" 
 
 Peewee disappeared into the house, 
 leaving Shorty in a cold perspiration. 
 How far did Peewee's dangerous knowl- 
 edge extend ? Could he have found 
 the pencils in the haymow ? Shorty 
 made a bee line for home, and looking 
 around and seeing that he was 
 unobserved, he entered the barn 
 and reached his hand under one 
 corner of the mow. 
 87
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 He heaved a sigh of relief 
 when he found that the pencils 
 were safe in their place. He 
 must find Spot. 
 
 Spot was doing a little some- 
 thing in wood in connection with a buck 
 saw, and he was doing it with very bad 
 grace. That he kept at work at all was 
 due to the presence of Mrs. Maloney at 
 the kitchen window. When he faltered, 
 which was often, she held him to the 
 work by the force of mind. 
 
 "I've got to saw and split ten sticks 
 before I get loose," said Spot disconso- 
 lately. " 
 
 "Let's push her right through," said 
 Shorty. "I've got something to tell you. 
 Pick out ten small ones." 
 
 "The small ones was all picked 
 yesterday," said Spot. "Those there 
 is the smallest they is." 
 
 "Chuck one of 'm on the buck," 
 said Shorty, "and I'll try it. 
 We'll take turn on and turn 
 off. Any man that stops 
 before he saws her through I 
 is poisoned." I 
 
 out
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 Under this stimulus the ten sticks were 
 soon eaten up, and the boys, after drink- 
 ing a quart of water, went out behind the 
 barn. Here Shorty outlined his conver- 
 sation with Peewee and found Spot prop- 
 erly harrowed in soul by the revelation. 
 
 "My gosh ! It looks as though he'd got 
 us. What are we goin' to do ?" 
 
 "Oh, we ain't goin' to give up. We 
 kin sarcumvent him yet." 
 
 Shorty had been faithfully reading the 
 Deerslayer stories and often fell into the 
 Natty Bumpoo dialect. 
 
 "Besides, we don't know that he knows 
 anything about them !" 
 
 Shorty pointed knowingly to the barn 
 where the pencils lay hidden. 
 
 "Say, I'll tell you what let's do. We 
 ought never to say 'pencils.' ' Spot whis- 
 pered the word. "When we talk about 
 them let's hold up four fingers, like that. 
 That's our secret sign." 
 
 "Bully good!" 
 
 "Say, it's great !" 
 
 "Why not get up a secret society with 
 pass words and signs and call it the 'Patri- 
 ots' Defense Society' ?" asked Shorty. 
 89
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "Why 'patriots' ?" asked Spot. 
 
 "Because we ain't done nothin'. We 
 never stole the 
 
 At the missing word Shorty held up 
 
 four fingers. The boys were delighted 
 
 with the scheme. No detective could 
 
 ever penetrate such a brilliant disguise 
 of the facts. 
 
 "Say, we've got to take in Slim Jones. 
 He is in on the deal and knows about 
 the " (Four fingers again.) 
 
 "Of course. He's in it as bad as we are." 
 
 "Say, on the way over let's go in and 
 look at Balmy Wilson's red herring's egg." 
 
 When there was an opportunity the 
 boys always stopped to look at this curi- 
 osity. No other boy in town had a heron's 
 egg, and this one was priceless. 
 
 "Balmy never found that egg himself!" 
 
 "Naw! Red herring's don't lay near 
 this town. Balmy's cousin in Michigan 
 sent it to him." 
 
 "How do you know? Balmy let on to 
 me that he found her out to the bog." 
 
 "He never! Old Wilson told my father 
 that it came in the post office, wrapped 
 up in cotton batting." 
 90
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "That so? It's an awful scarce egg." 
 
 "My hen hawk's egg's scarce, too." 
 'Tain't so scarce as a red herring's." 
 
 "Oh, I dimno." 
 
 "How did you find her?" 
 
 "Slim Jones found the nest in a 
 great big pine tree. He couldn't 
 shin her." 
 
 "Did he tell you?" 
 
 "Yep. He said if I could shin her, I 
 could have first pick." 
 
 "Was it a tough shin ?" 
 
 "You bet ye ! The nest was made of 
 sticks an' there was two eggs in her and 
 a little hen hawk." 
 
 "A little hen hawk is a chicken hawk, 
 ain't it ?" 
 
 "I dunno. P'raps." 
 
 "Did you kill the young one?" 
 
 "No, I divvied with the birds. I took 
 the eggs an' they took the 
 young one. One of the eggs 
 was picked." 
 
 "Did you give Slim Jones 
 the picked egg ?" 
 
 "You bet ! 'Twas my first choice. His 
 picked egg hatched that night in his
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 c'llection and the chicken broke his fly- 
 catcher's egg." 
 "Thunder!" 
 "Yes. He killed it." 
 "How many eggs has Slim got?" 
 "He's got twenty-three. I've got thirty- 
 two." 
 
 By this time the boys had reached 
 Balmy Wilson's house, and Shorty 
 whistled on his fingers like a circular 
 saw striking a pine knot. 
 
 No one knew why Henry Wilson 
 was called Balmy. The name sprang 
 up spontaneously, and no one 
 thought of calling him anything 
 else. 
 
 "Say, Balmy, let's see yer red her- 
 ring's egg." 
 "All right !" 
 
 The boy was immensely flattered 
 by the attention pajd to his prize and he 
 hurried in to procure it. 
 "Ain't she abeute!" 
 "You bet !" 
 
 "Say, Balmy, I'll give yer my hen hawk's 
 egg, two peewee eggs, and a flycatcher's 
 for her." 
 
 92
 
 "Naw ! That egg's wuth most a hun- 
 dred dollars. They're awful scarce." 
 
 "They are pretty scarce." 
 
 "I'll throw in my pearl-handled knife 
 and a ball of fish line." 
 
 "Naw, I won't trade. Red herrings' 
 eggs is scarce." 
 
 The egg passed carefully from hand 
 to hand. 
 
 "She ain't been blowed." 
 
 "No. I didn't dast to pick her. Afraid 
 she'd bust." 
 
 "When they ain't blowed they bust on 
 yer sometimes."- 
 
 "I guess she won't bust." 
 
 "P'raps not." 
 
 "I had a flycatcher's egg bust in my 
 mouth once." 
 
 The boys often carried eggs in their 
 mouths to protect the thin shells, and this 
 catastrophe was not an uncommon one. 
 
 "How did she taste?" 
 
 "Awful ! I chewed grass and leaves to 
 get the taste out. I guess the egg was a 
 bad one." 
 
 "Well, come on, Spot; let's go on 
 Good-by, Balmy!" 
 
 93
 
 "Good-by!" 
 
 Slim was up in his barn chamber mak- 
 ing a squirrel trap, but he knocked off 
 work when the boys appeared. 
 
 "Say, fellers, if you will keep shut 
 up, I'll show you something." 
 "What is it?" 
 "Promise not ter tell ?" 
 "Black and blue !" 
 Slim led the way to the haymow. 
 "Yer won't give it away ?" 
 "No, honest." 
 
 The fat boy thrust his hand into 
 the mow on the side of the barn and 
 produced a mysterious bottle. 
 "What's in that ?" 
 "I dunno. Pa had some of 
 it in the cellar and I swiped one 
 bottle last night and hid her." 
 "Let's taste her." 
 "I'll give you a swig if you 
 won't tell." 
 
 "All right. Honest Injun ! 
 Hope ter die!" 
 
 Slim made another dive into the hay 
 and produced the half of a cocoanut shell 
 with a hole in it. He handed it to Shorty. 
 94
 
 "Put your finger over the hole." 
 
 Shorty did so, and Slim poured out a 
 few drops of the liquid, which Shorty dis- 
 posed of in a gulp.. 
 
 'That's bully !" 
 
 "You bet !" 
 
 The other boys all had a sample, Slim 
 taking a double allowance for himself. 
 
 "What do you call her?" 
 
 "I dunno. It sounds something like 
 that new sickness." 
 
 Shorty tried to pronounce cerebro- 
 spinal meningitis, which was at that time 
 just coming into popular notice. 
 
 "That's it, only it isn't. I can't call it." 
 
 After this the drink was always referred 
 to as "c'rebro." I have never been able to 
 ascertain what it was, though I suspect 
 that it may have been raspberry shrub. 
 
 "Say, Slim, want to join the Patriots' 
 Defense Society?" 
 
 "Naw! What is it?" 
 
 "Well, we are afraid Peewee Jackson 
 knows about the - ' (four fingers c x !',,% 
 again), "and we are going to sarcum- 
 vent him." 
 
 "What's that four fingers?" 
 95
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "You tell him, Spot." 
 Spot took Slim carefully aside and im- 
 parted the secret in a whisper. When 
 
 Slim finally caught the idea, he 
 
 liked it. It held in it the mys- 
 tery and secrecy so dear to the 
 boy heart. 
 
 "I'll be president of the soci- 
 ety," said Henry, "and we'll have 
 a new president every week so 
 as to throw the detectives off 
 the scent." 
 
 "Let's have some more signs," sug- 
 gested Slim. 
 
 'What's signs ?" 
 
 "Why, like the four fingers. When we 
 want to give warning, we'll hold one 
 finger on each hand up in the air at arm's 
 length, like this. That will mean, 
 'Patriots, beware!' " 
 
 "Good enough!" said Shorty. "And 
 fingers on one hand crossed means, 
 'Let the spy die.' Fingers on two 
 hands crossed means, 'Run for your life. 
 Danger !' " 
 
 A number of other signs were agreed 
 on, and the boys, finding too much exer- 
 96
 
 cise on the idea wearing to their minds, 
 started off to go in swimming. They 
 made their way to the river, stopping by 
 the way to pull a few bricks out of a loose 
 corner of the schoolhouse, to stone the 
 hornets; and to peer into a robin's nest 
 to see if the eggs had hatched. As soon 
 as they came into view of the river behind 
 the small soap factory, they began to dis- 
 robe on the run. 
 
 "Last one in has got to shin a tree back- 
 ward ! No lubber on the one that said it !" 
 
 Shinning a tree backward was the pen- 
 alty always exacted from the last boy to 
 get into the water, and Slim Jones, be- 
 cause of his avoirdupois, was usually the 
 victim. There was, however, one remedy. 
 By crying out, "Lubber on the one 
 who said it !" the penalty was trans- 
 ferred to the boy who raised the cry; 
 but if he first cried, "No lubber on 
 the one who said it !" the danger was 
 averted. 
 
 The glorious picture made by Slim 
 
 Jones vainly trying to climb a tree 
 
 head downward, called out wild yells 
 
 of encouragement that attracted the 
 
 97
 
 workmen in the factory to the 
 windows. 
 
 While Slim was trying to 
 perform his impossible feat, 
 the other boys tied his shirt 
 into a hard knot, which they 
 secured by wetting it. Spot 
 also placed a heavy stone on 
 Slim's straw hat. Such tricks 
 as these represent a boy's idea of humor. 
 The gang dived, swam under water, 
 tried "to fetch bottom," sat in a row on 
 the wharf, and fought and lied and told 
 the usual boy legends; then they jumped 
 into the water again and staid until their 
 lips were blue, and so on for the rest of 
 the long summer afternoon till the whis- 
 tles blew for six o'clock and supper. This 
 meant a rapid dressing and a scurrying 
 for home, with Slim Jones left alone on 
 the wharf to get the knot out of his shirt. 
 
 As Shorty disappeared in the dis- 
 tance, he gave Slim the sign of the 
 double crossed fingers that meant, 
 "Run for your life. Danger!" 
 
 "I never seen a meaner gang'n 
 that," thought the fat boy to himself 
 98
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 as he tugged at the knots. "An' right 
 after I treated them to my c'rebro, too. I 
 see me givin' up any more of it. I'm too 
 easy. And joined their measly old society, 
 too. I'll fix 'em. Darn, if I ain't a good 
 mind to tell about them pencils. If they 
 warn't in my haymow, too, I would. But 
 shucks ! I'd go to jail with the rest of 
 'em." 
 
 Slim finally undid the knots, got his 
 shirt on backwards, and ambled across 
 the fields for home, meditating other plans 
 of vengeance less dangerous to himself. 
 
 Spot and Shorty on their way home 
 had also been laying plans. 
 
 "Say, Shorty, let's go up to-night and 
 get Slim's bottle of c'rebro !" 
 
 "Good ! Let's do it. We'll meet right 
 after supper." 
 
 After Slim Jones had disappeared up 
 the bank and down the path, a small 
 figure slipped out of the factory and 
 made its way towards the town. It wore 
 a smile on its face, a smile of half-con- 
 cealed triumph. It was Peewee Jackson, 
 the Boy Detective ! 
 
 99
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 In Which the Treacherous Raid on Slim Jones' Private 
 Stock Comes to Naught. 
 
 SLIM JONES was late to supper that 
 night, but he had a few plans of 
 vengeance in mind that would be likely 
 to take form in the future. 
 The other boys swallowed 
 their food as hastily as pos- 
 sible so as not to miss 
 the evening's entertainment. 
 Shorty and Spot appeared 
 on the street almost simul- 
 taneously. They had their 
 bean blowers in their pock- 
 ets and began picking off 
 their foes. Stray cats and 
 dogs or little girls and boys were their 
 legitimate prey. 
 
 "Haven't seen the cops yet, have you?" 
 "No, but the paper said there was a 
 New York detective stopping at the hotel. 
 I took my pencils out of the haymow and 
 buried them in the back yard." 
 100
 
 -T D?3NP Y STUD|0 
 
 >^ 
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "My gracious ! A detective !" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Say, we're up ! It's no use." 
 
 "P'raps he wasn't on our case." 
 
 "I believe we're gonners ! Let's run 
 away!" 
 
 "Oo, look at that !" 
 
 Five or six little girls were on the steps 
 of the church playing "Raw-Head-and- 
 Bloody-Bones." This play simply repre- 
 sents the enjoyment of the ecstasy of 
 protection in the sight of the Fearful 
 Object. The dramatis personae are the 
 Mother Girl with her Children, and the 
 Ogre or Giant known as Raw-Head-and- 
 Bloody-Bones. One of the larger girls 
 takes this part. She hides around a 
 corner or under a flight of steps, while 
 the little girls play innocently near the 
 mother. The sudden appearance of the 
 ogre results in great screaming and run- 
 ning to the mother, all the girls hanging 
 passionately to her skirts for the sense of 
 protection so dear to the child heart. 
 
 Spot and Shorty forgot their desperate 
 situation in the joy of the chase. They 
 filled their mouths with beans and crawled 
 101
 
 a fence until they were within 
 
 "Let's pepper the Ror-Head!" 
 "All right." 
 
 The ogre was astonished by the 
 sudden fall of mysterious beans 
 about her person. 
 
 "Henry Hitchcock, you stop 
 that!" 
 
 The secret was out, and the boys 
 fled up the street, hooting and 
 laughing. This incident occurred 
 after supper, while the summer sun was 
 still high. The boys were waiting for 
 nightfall to make their projected raid on 
 Slim Jones' hidden stores. Several dogs, 
 wandering around looking for bones or 
 engaged in social duties, were astonished 
 by well-directed shots and fled up the 
 street or into their yards with sharp 
 yelps. 
 
 A respectable farmer coming into 
 town behind the family horse was a 
 godsend. 
 "Hi, there!" 
 
 The farmer looked over his 
 shoulder. 
 
 1 02
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "Say, your wheel's goin' 
 round!"" 
 
 The farmer made no re- 
 ply but drove on. 
 
 "Say, your hoss is mov- 
 in 1 !" 
 
 This was from Shorty, 
 but Spot was not far be- 
 hind. 
 
 "Push on his tail feathers an' he'll go 
 faster." 
 
 The farmer was evidently annoyed. 
 The boys began to blow beans at him, 
 and to cry, "Caw, caw, caw," to indicate 
 that the crows were after the horse's 
 remains. 
 
 "Better not take that old crow-bait 
 down town. They'll arrest you !" 
 
 The farmer grabbed his whip and 
 jumped from the wagon. The effect was 
 magical. Shorty and Spot fell over the 
 first fence like two frightened cats, 
 dodged around a house and through an 
 alley, across a street, and were well into 
 another section of town before they 
 stopped to look around. 
 
 "Say, he was mad !" 
 103
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "If he'd caught us, he'd licked us 
 good." 
 
 "He didn't catch us." 
 "Let's separate and meet back of Slim's 
 barn. If we're seen goin' up together, 
 they'll be on to us." 
 "All right." 
 
 Shorty ran around one way, and Spot 
 disappeared in the other through the 
 growing darkness. Shorty had barely 
 reached the end of the block when a 
 heavy hand was laid on his col- 
 lar. His heart fell about twenty 
 feet. The police had him at 
 last ! It was all over. 
 
 "Lemmebe! Whatchertryin' 
 to do?" 
 
 ^ x \*t.a>wv 
 
 ^^ "I saw you and Spot Maloney 
 
 firing stones at my dog last week." It 
 was only Breezy Martin, a big lout of a 
 fellow and a general ne'er-do-weel who 
 owned a thin-skinned dog of which he 
 was very choice. 
 
 "1 never did it. It was Spot." 
 "Huh! I caught Spot last week and 
 he said it was you." 
 "I never!" 
 
 104
 
 "Well, I'm goin' to knock the stuffin' 
 out o' yer !" 
 
 Shorty bit and kicked vigor- 
 ously, but Breezy Martin cuffed 
 him severely and kicked him 
 aside. 
 
 "There, you'll let my dog alone 
 after this!" 
 
 Shorty was sniffling with rage. 
 
 "Gol darn you ! I'll get even 
 with you ! I'll poison your dog !" 
 
 Breezy started to repeat the punish- 
 ment, but Shorty fled. Later he met Spot 
 back of the Jones barn, sitting under a 
 tree and whittling a shingle. 
 
 "Say, Breezy Martin lammed me." 
 
 "He lammed me the other day, too." 
 
 "You told on me." 
 
 "I never!" 
 
 "You did, too ! He said you did !" 
 
 "Well, he's a liar!" 
 
 There was further exchange of compli- 
 ments, but the incident finally passed 
 , without overt act. 
 
 "How we goin' to git Slim's licker?" 
 
 'Can't we git in the barn winder?" 
 
 "It's too high." 
 
 105
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "Let's get a pole an' shin up." 
 "P'raps the winder's locked." 
 "That's so." 
 
 "We'll sneak in the barn door an' up 
 the stairs." 
 
 The boys sat around and 
 waited until a lamp was lighted 
 in the Jones house. Then they 
 stole around the corner of the 
 barn like ghosts, slipped in at 
 the door and scurried up the 
 stairs. 
 "What's that ?" 
 
 No sound was heard but that of the 
 horses chewing their hay and stamping 
 to scatter the flies. 
 
 "If Slim's father catches us, he'll fan us 
 with a board." 
 
 "Whaffor ? We'd tell him we're come 
 to see Slim." 
 "That's so." 
 "Go ahead !" 
 "Here's the place!" 
 
 Shorty reached his hand into the hole. 
 "Gol durn ! She ain't here." 
 Slim, the wily, the suspicious one, had 
 feared something of this kind and had 
 1 06
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 changed the hiding place of 
 his treasured bottle. 
 
 The boys made their way 
 home dejectedly, keeping a 
 close watch out for police and 
 detectives. The darkness 
 seemed to be full of metal 
 stars and clubs, and they 
 would hardly have been sur- 
 prised at any moment to have 
 heard the fateful words, "You 
 are my prisoners !" 
 
 As the boys moved cautiously along the 
 sidewalk, they saw Mrs. Mason, a widow 
 of small but independent fortune, sitting 
 comfortably at her dining-room window, 
 knitting. From time to time she counted 
 her stitches, glanced up at the clock, and 
 sniffed vigorously. Shorty used to carry 
 milk for Mrs. Mason. She lived all by 
 herself on Lilac street, and took 
 a pint of milk which some of 
 the boys brought to her door 
 every evening. This milk she 
 carefully set in a little tin pan in 
 the buttery and skimmed for 
 her morning cup of coffee. 
 107
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 When Shorty sometimes forgot to take 
 her the milk because of the strenuosity of 
 boy life, Mrs. Mason's remarks about 
 little boys were far from complimentary. 
 In the course of a season of arduous milk 
 carrying, Shorty learned much of Mrs. 
 Mason and her ways. One day, 
 in a desire to confide in somebody, 
 if only a boy for life in the large 
 house was very lonesome Mrs. 
 Mason took him into the cellar 
 and showed him rows on 
 rows of kindling wood, all 
 carefully cut into exact 
 lengths and piled with geo- 
 metrical precision to the very 
 top of the cellar. The wood 
 ran several times the length of the 
 cellar, and ought, at the least calcu- 
 lation, to have lasted for years. 
 
 "I've been using on it for two years and 
 eight months now," said Mrs. Mason, 
 with a sigh, "and it looks to me as if it 
 would last as long as I do. I ain't very 
 long for this world now." 
 
 "Where'd you get it all, Mrs. Mason ?" 
 he asked, more for the sake of making 
 1 08
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 talk and being polite than because he 
 cared to know. 
 
 "Well, you see, Mr. Mason, when he 
 was alive, knew that he had got to die 
 with his complaint, and he knew that I 
 would be left all alone here to take care 
 of myself. He always made all the fires, 
 and he didn't like to think of me a-mak- 
 ing them; he was so thoughtful. So one 
 day he began to split kindling wood and 
 pile it in the cellar for me to use after he 
 was gone. As long as he lived, which 
 was for two years after that, he kept 
 working on these piles of wood, and one 
 of the last things he did before he took to 
 his bed was to split a few pieces and lay 
 them. Those are the pieces there, the 
 last he split. I couldn't bear to use them, 
 so I laid them to one side to kind of 
 remind me. Though, of course, I am 
 reminded of him every time I build a 
 kitchen fire, anyhow." 
 
 This pathetic incident of love that sur- 
 vived the grave did not have much influ- 
 ence on Shorty's feelings. 
 
 "Say, let's put a tick-tack on her 
 winder." 
 
 109
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "Got any strings ?" 
 Shorty fished out of his pocket 
 about ten yards of fish line. 
 "Here's a nail." 
 The satanic contrivance was 
 quickly arranged, and Shorty 
 sneaked up under the window and pinned 
 it to the sash. The boys hid behind the 
 lilac bush by the fence. Shorty pulled 
 the string. 
 
 Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick 
 
 Mrs. Mason jumped to her feet. 
 The boys chuckled with joy and the 
 ticking stopped. 
 
 Mrs. Mason looked all around and then 
 resumed her knitting. 
 
 Tick-tick-tick-tick 
 
 This time she came to the window and, 
 peering out, caught the nail in the act. 
 She rushed for the door, grabbing 
 a broom in her passage; but Spot 
 and Shorty were flying down the 
 street. 
 
 The evening was not entirely a 
 failure. Neither was the evening 
 one devoid of action on the part of 
 Terrible Peewee, the Bold Boy 
 
 1 10
 
 Never-sleep. With joy too deep for 
 expression, he had seen the punishment 
 administered to Shorty by Breezy Martin 
 and had afterwards followed him at a 
 long distance to his rendezvous. But 
 what did the secret raid on Slim Jones' 
 barn mean ? Was not Slim in the con- 
 spiracy? Sure he was! He had been 
 with the boys in the cave. Aha! A 
 great light suddenly dawned on the boy 
 detective ! He saw it all ! The other 
 boys were playing Slim false. They were 
 trying to steal his share of the plunder. 
 Such treachery was like Shorty Hitch- 
 cock. It was his nature. Peewee laughed 
 a noiseless laugh. 
 
 "I'll foil the whole nest of villains yet. 
 Justice shall be done."
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 In Which Peewee and "the Police" Break Up a Secret 
 Meeting of the Patriots Defense Society. 
 
 WHEN Shorty played "short" on the 
 Red Stockings he found nothing to 
 do except to crane his neck and to watch 
 the "high flies" chasing one another 
 overhead. The trouble with the 
 Red Stockings Baseball Club was 
 that the "members of the nine were 
 theorists. The art of pitching had 
 just developed from the simple 
 tossed ball to the "round arm" and 
 then to "the underhand throw," and 
 every boy in the nine was full of 
 ideas and experiments and was 
 nearly crazy with interest and excitement 
 over the game. While every boy jack 
 was trying to put these theories into prac- 
 tice, the coarse, rough boys who played 
 ball on the other nines smote the leathern 
 sphere heavily and wore themselves out 
 112
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 running around the bases for scores. The 
 Red Stockings' out-fielders never caught 
 anything, unless it was the mumps. 
 They had theories as to how a 
 high ball should be "judged." 
 These theories worked out well in 
 the conversations back of the barn, 
 but they failed in the field. As an 
 example of what is meant by theories, 
 let me relate the case of Noony Norris, 
 the crack pitcher of the Red Stockings. 
 The boys all knew that, from his cradle, 
 Nuisance or "Noony" Norris was cut out 
 for a great pitcher. Noony knew it too. 
 There were fights over the other posi- 
 tions, but everybody conceded that 
 Noony should pitch. No one could 
 tell where his reputation had been 
 made, but nobody questioned 
 it. He was conceded to be the 
 wiliest little scoundrel that 
 ever twirled leather. I wonder 
 why we were all so sure of 
 his ability to twist the ball so 
 that it would just roll around 
 the bat of his astonished vic- 
 tim?
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 to 
 
 When the game began, Noony took the 
 sphere and struck his professional atti- 
 tude. After that the catcher of the 
 Red Stockings "kicked" because he 
 hadn't anything to do. Every 
 ball that was tossed, a "giant" 
 from the other nine lifted into 
 the next pasture. It was piti- 
 ful. 
 
 In the first game played, 
 after the Red Stockings had 
 been used to dent the pasture 
 and after the score stood 114 
 to 28, Spot Maloney remarked 
 boys: 
 
 "Say, I don't believe Noony's no good 
 to pitch." 
 
 That was the end of Noony's reputation. 
 The club was ripe for the doubt. Noony 
 was unanimously thrown out. But the 
 nine never won anything after that, either. 
 After the first of 
 these disgraceful per- 
 formances on the dia- 
 mond, Shorty, Spot, 
 and Slim Jones had 
 wandered out behind 
 114
 
 the Hitchcock barn to talk it over and to 
 abuse Noony Norris for not having put a 
 foundation under his reputation. 
 
 "He didn't show no headwork," com- 
 plained Shorty. "The ball just went easy 
 right over the base and they pasted it." 
 
 "If it hadn't been for Noony we might 
 have walloped 'em," said Slim Jones. 
 
 "Noony lost us that game, sure," 
 assented Spot. "I saw after the first 
 innings that we might as well have been 
 settin' down. We'll never hear the last 
 of that." 
 
 "Well, I don't care," said Shorty, "as 
 long's the detectives don't round us up. 
 Say, let's show Slim the cave in under the 
 church and hold a meeting of the Patriots' 
 Defense Society in it." 
 
 "Good !" said Spot. 
 
 "Hold on," said Slim suspiciously. 
 "What's this about caves ? I've got 
 enough o' caves an' of shirt-tyin', too. 
 I call that pretty low down to use a 
 brother patriot that way, by gosh !" 
 
 "Oh, that's only in fun, Slim," 
 explained Shorty. "We didn't mean 
 nothin' by it." 
 
 115
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "Well, I say gol durn such fun as that. 
 What church is she under ?" 
 
 "The cave? Oh, the Baptist. Mean' 
 Spot found her one day when we fixed 
 the bell. Say, wasn't that great !" 
 
 The thought was so full of joy that 
 Spot could not find words to express it. 
 The boys wandered over to the church, 
 and after some discussion crawled in at 
 the window. Slim was the last to enter. 
 His mind was filled with doubt and fore- 
 bodings as he noticed the small space 
 between the floor of the church and the 
 ground. Complaining of the heat and of 
 the narrow space, he wiggled along 
 behind the boys. Hardly had Slim's fat 
 little stockings worked their way into the 
 aperture when Peewee Jackson, the Boy 
 Detective, crept around the corner of the 
 church and stole over to the window. 
 
 "Wonder what they're up to?" 
 
 Peewee did not dare follow the boys, 
 but he sat down near the window and 
 tried to hear what they were saying. 
 
 "By gum!" said Slim breathlessly, "I'm 
 going to back out. I'll get stuck in this." 
 
 "She widens up in here, Slim," said 
 116
 
 Shorty. "Just push under that beam. 
 There !" 
 
 Slim came out near the wall where space 
 was a little more free and looked around 
 with much interest. 
 
 "There's where we climb up to get at 
 the bell," said Spot. "See them cleats 
 nailed on ?" 
 
 "Now," said Shorty, "let the Patriot's 
 Defense Society come to order and we'll 
 consider the - Shorty held up four 
 
 fingers. 
 
 "Say," said Spot, "I move 
 first we take an oath in 
 blood to shut up and say 
 nothin' till the time comes." 
 
 ".What's an oath in blood ?" asked Slim 
 uneasily. 
 
 "Why, you cut your finger and sign the 
 agreement in your own blood and then 
 you can't break it, you know." 
 
 "Why can't you?" 
 
 "Why, because ! They never do, the 
 pirates and buccaneers. Thunder! Do 
 you suppose a pirate'd break a blood 
 oath? No sir!" 
 
 "Well, perhaps not." 
 117
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "Of course not." 
 
 "But who's going to cut his finger to get 
 the blood ?" asked Shorty. 
 
 "Oh, Slim'll do that," said Spot. "We'll 
 take a nail, dip it in the blood and make 
 a cross on the wall here." 
 
 "Well, I guess not !" 
 
 "Oh, come on !" 
 
 "Well, I guess not ! You cut your own 
 finger." 
 
 "What's that !" 
 
 A noise like some one scraping on the 
 floor was heard overhead. Then all was 
 still. 
 
 "Say, what was that?" said Slim. 
 
 "Shut up," whispered Spot; "they's 
 detectives in the entry." 
 
 "Let's crawl out and cut," whispered 
 Shorty. 
 
 At this point heavy steps were heard 
 above, followed by a kicking and scram- 
 bling noise, and a childish voice was 
 raised in protest. 
 
 "My gosh ! That's Peewee Jackson," 
 said Shorty. "Come and let's move 
 out." 
 
 Peewee, the wily Never-sleep, finding 
 118
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 that he could not hear the boys' conver- 
 sation from the window in the foundation, 
 had stealthily made his 
 way to the entry way of 
 the church. He was 
 lying on the floor with 
 his ear at a crack when 
 Bill Kendall, the sex- 
 ton, happening to come 
 in, discovered him in this suspicious atti- 
 tude and caught him by the coat collar. 
 "You lemme go !" 
 "What are you doing in here?" 
 "Nothin' !" 
 
 "Then you'll go to jail." 
 "Whaffor?" 
 "Nothin'." 
 
 "They don't put boys in jail for nothin'." 
 "How do I know but what 
 you was setting the church 
 on fire?" 
 "I wasn't!" 
 "I don't know that." 
 "There's a gang under 
 the floor and I was tryin' to 
 hear what they said." 
 "A gang!" ' 
 119
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "Yes, Shorty Hitchcock's." 
 "How'd they get under there?" 
 "By the winder." 
 
 "Well, we'll go out and look into this 
 window." 
 
 Bill Kendall and Peewee 
 Jackson reached the win- 
 dow just as the lower half 
 of Shorty's form was ap- 
 pearing in view. 
 With a smile of triumph, Bill Kendall 
 watched him back out. Shorty looked very 
 sheepish. 
 
 "Come on out, boys; he s got us." 
 The boys wiggled out, Slim bringing up 
 the rear. They were a dusty and muddy 
 set. Bill Kendall's grin was changed sud- 
 denly into a disgusted look. 
 "Where's that little devil !" 
 During the excitement of the boys' 
 exit, Peewee Jackson, the Bold Boy 
 Sleuth, had "cut and run." He was 
 nowhere to be seen. 
 
 "Oh, all right, let him run. I know 
 him. What are you boys doing in there ?" 
 "Nothin'. Just crawled in," said Shorty. 
 "We warn't doing no hurt." 
 120
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "What's in under there?" 
 "Nothing but a hole. We were going 
 to play cave an' Indians." 
 "Oh, you was!" 
 "Yes, honest." 
 "Then what was Peewee 
 Jackson laying on the floor 
 for an' listening at that 
 crack?" 
 
 The boys looked at one 
 another in dismay. 
 
 "We didn't know he was 
 there. He was just spyin' on us." 
 
 "Well, if I catch you around this church 
 again, I'll slap the whole outfit in jail. 
 Somebody fooled with this bell the other 
 day. I know you boys warn't big enough 
 to do that, but anybody we 
 catch around here after this 
 will get into the lockup. 
 You hear me?" 
 
 The boys went off to- 
 gether to have a drink at 
 the old pump in the town 
 square before returning 
 home. 
 
 "Say," said Shorty, "he 
 
 121
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 come just in time to stop Peewee from 
 hearin' us. Wasn't that luck ?" 
 
 "Wonder how much Peewee heard any- 
 way." 
 
 "He didn't hear a thing. We used the 
 signal." 
 
 "Wasn't that great ?" 
 
 "You bet !" 
 
 "But he suspects something." 
 
 "How'd you know?" 
 
 "What's he spyin' on us for?" 
 
 "Oh, just because he's Peewee. It's the 
 detectives I'm afraid of." 
 
 The boys were somewhat worried by 
 this adventure, but they finally concluded 
 that Peewee did not know anything and 
 was of too small consequence to notice 
 further than to lick for spying if they 
 should catch him. But that night before 
 he went to bed, Peewee, the Boy Never- 
 sleep, cut another deep notch in the handle 
 of his tomahawk. 
 
 122
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 In Which Peewee Jackson, the Boy Detective, Finds a 
 Clue as Big as a House. 
 
 SHORTY HITCHCOCK'S first trou- 
 ble on the Sabbath was that he 
 seemed to be wide awake in the morning, 
 when other people wanted to sleep. 
 Usually it was the labor of Hercules to 
 get the boy awake and out of bed; 
 something at which Mrs. Hitchcock 
 threw up her hands and which brought 
 out the full glory of Mr. Hitchcock's 
 dominance in the family. But on Sun- 
 day, and especially on this Sunday, it 
 was another story. The town was 
 deadly still, and Shorty had been aroused 
 to complete wakefulness by the thought 
 that the police might choose this day to 
 show their hands. Nothing could be 
 heard but the noise of the hens busying 
 themselves in the egg industry, and the 
 stamping of the horse in his eternal fight 
 with flies in the barn. 
 123
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 The sun seemed to come up earlier and 
 to shine brighter than usual. Shorty tried 
 desperately to sleep, but it was 
 useless. He jumped out of bed 
 and began to dress himself to 
 the accompaniment of a shrill 
 whistle. 
 "Henry!" 
 "What?" 
 
 "If you are going to get up, 
 you must keep still." 
 
 There it was. What was the 
 use of living, anyway ? 
 Shorty loafed around looking over his 
 birds' eggs and postage stamps, teasing 
 the cat and feeding the hens, until the 
 long morning wore itself away and break- 
 fast was prepared. 
 
 At the table everybody sat very still 
 while Mr. Hitchcock bowed his head and 
 said: 
 
 "For what we are about to receive, may 
 we be truly thankful." 
 
 After the breakfast Mr. Hitchcock drew 
 
 his chair from the table and Minnie 
 
 handed him the Bible. A chapter was 
 
 read and the family kneeled at the chairs 
 
 124
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 say man was a 
 
 while a prayer was offered. Mr. Hitch- 
 cock to-day read the chapter, taken at 
 random, where man is com- 
 pared to a shadow, and in 
 his prayer he dwelt at length 
 on this simile. Shorty for 
 a wonder had been listen- 
 ing. As they arose, he 
 broke out: 
 
 "Pa!" 
 
 "Well ?" 
 
 "Did it 
 shadow ?" 
 
 "Yes, my son, his life is like a shadow." 
 
 "Is a boy a shadow, too ?" 
 
 "Yes, life is very uncertain." 
 
 "Say." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Slim Jones ain't no shadow." 
 
 "Henry, leave the room!" 
 
 There it was once more. A boy had 
 no show, especially on Sunday. 
 
 The sight of the hens in the yard, still 
 engaged in getting their breakfast, 
 offered a little diversion. Shorty pro- 
 cured a handful of corn and threw it out 
 one grain at a time to see them scramble 
 125
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 for it. He grew indignant at the old one- 
 eyed rooster who clucked so vigorously to 
 call the hens and then ate the corn him- 
 self. 
 
 "I'll fix him !" said Shorty to himself. 
 He whipped out his knife and began 
 boring a hole in a kernel of corn. 
 "Henry!" 
 "What?" 
 
 "I want you to say, 'What, sir' " 
 "All right." 
 
 "What are you aomg?" 
 "Nothing, only feeding the hens a little 
 corn." 
 
 "Are you ready for church ?" 
 "Yes, sir" 
 
 Shorty bored a hole through the corn 
 and attached a string to it. This he 
 threw out, keeping hold of one end of the 
 string. The one-eyed rooster fell heavily 
 upon the corn without investigation and 
 swallowed it. Shorty gave a vigorous 
 ^ pull at the string, and the aston- 
 ished rooster lost the corn and 
 set up a loud and indignant 
 cackle. 
 "Henry!" 
 126
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "What, sir?" 
 
 "What are you doing to the rooster?" 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 "Well, I don't want you to frighten the 
 fowls." 
 
 "No, sir/- 
 At this point Minnie Hitchcock, aged 
 sixteen, came out, and Shorty in great 
 glee told her of the rooster's mishap. 
 
 "Why, Henry Hitchcock ! Aren't you 
 awful !" 
 
 "Naw! 'Twasn't nothin'." 
 
 "What do you suppose the rooster 
 thought ?" 
 
 "I dunno. He looked awful sur- 
 prised." 
 
 "Did you ever notice how hard they 
 peck at the Indian meal mush ma makes 
 for them ?" 
 
 "Sure! They're always hun- 
 
 C" l 
 
 gry. Say ! 
 
 "What?" 
 
 Another idea was taking 
 shape in Shorty's brain. 
 
 "You go in and get Injun 
 meal and we'll fool 'em." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 127
 
 "Never you mind. You get the meal 
 and you'll see." 
 
 Minnie's curiosity was aroused and she 
 procured the meal. Shorty filled a tin 
 basin with water. On this he sprinkled 
 the meal until the water was completely 
 covered. This dish he placed in the yard, 
 crying vigorously as he did so: 
 
 "Biddy, biddy, biddy, biddy ! Chick, 
 chick, chick, chick !" 
 The hens came flying from all quarters 
 and as they saw the dish of 
 Indian meal, they pecked vigor- 
 ously at it only to dash their 
 heads deep into the water. 
 
 Shorty howled with laughter 
 and Minnie, suspecting trouble, ran into 
 the house. While Shorty was enjoying 
 the scene, his father walked sternly out 
 of the house, and before Shorty knew 
 what had happened, he went through the 
 operation of having his ear "twigged." 
 "Ouch !" 
 
 "Don't you move out of this house until 
 it is time for church." 
 
 Shorty, with rebellion in his heart, went 
 into the sitting room and looked over 
 128
 
 . Stony Lonesome 
 
 The Arabian Nights, Swiss Family Robin- 
 son, The Last of the Mohicans, and A Gold 
 Hunter s Adventures in Australia, an 
 especial joy at this time. 
 
 "Pa!" 
 
 "Well ?" 
 
 "I'm going down to church to see Bill 
 Kendall ring the bell." 
 
 "Very well." 
 
 At the church door he met 
 Spot Maloney, Slim Jones, 
 Noony Morris, and some of the 
 other boys who were there care- 
 fully disguised in their Sunday 
 clothes. They had come early 
 for a similar purpose. 
 
 Bill Kendall, the sexton, "rang 
 her up," as setting the bell was called, and 
 some of the more expert boys had the 
 exquisite privilege of ringing her for a 
 few minutes. 
 
 After the ringing was over and the 
 tolling began, the boys went aside by 
 themselves and discussed the Sunday 
 school concert. Their class was going to 
 take part. They were to arise at a par- 
 ticular point in the exercises and repeat 
 129
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 a verse. By the snickering it was evident 
 that they were planning some deviltry. 
 v . But the church services inter- 
 
 rupted further scheming. 
 
 As the bell tolled, the people 
 began to come in with their 
 faces set in a fixed way that indi- 
 cated propriety. The sermon, 
 however bright and short, was 
 to the boys long and dry, but 
 like all other mortal things, it had an end. 
 Then came the Sunday school and after 
 that, the dinner. 
 
 In some way or other, Shorty could 
 never tell how, the long and dreary after- 
 noon wore away and it was time to go to 
 the Sunday school concert. Here the 
 minister spoke rather pleasantly to the 
 children, and the superintendent worried 
 them with a few remarks. There was 
 singing and then recitations by the 
 brighter boys and girls. 
 
 The came the piece de resistance of 
 the evening the recitation by classes. 
 Shorty's class was made up of seven 
 graceless little toughs, himself and Spot 
 Maloney, Speck Jordan, Slim Jones, 
 130
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 Noony Norris, Pussy Clement, Bill 
 Grimes who could chew tobacco and 
 Frankie Foster, the good boy. 
 
 Shorty's class had the first clause to 
 recite. They were to arise and cry, "Ho, 
 every one that thirsteth." Then another 
 class was to get up and proclaim, "Come 
 ye to the waters." The plan was really 
 quite admirable. At the signal the boys 
 arose and impatiently announced: 
 
 "Thirst, every one that hoeth !" 
 
 Shorty and Spot were preternaturally 
 solemn, but Slim Jones grinned. There 
 was smothered laughter in the audience, 
 and the superintendent expressed sur- 
 prise and sorrow. 
 
 When the family reached home at nine 
 o'clock, Shorty's father was very sober. 
 Presently Shorty accompanied the author 
 of his being to the woodshed, and the 
 sounds that came thence indicated that 
 Shorty had gone against the trunk strap.
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 This day, so memorable for Shorty, had 
 not been uneventful for Peewee Jackson. 
 The Red Avenger's parents did not con- 
 sider it necessary for him to go to church, 
 and he had laid out a plan of action that 
 included a careful search of the Hitch- 
 cock barn. To accomplish this object it 
 was necessary to wait until the family 
 had left the house and until the 
 neighborhood had quieted down. 
 When the church bells had done 
 ringing, Peewee scouted up the 
 street and carefully surveyed the 
 Hitchcock premises. Everything 
 was quiet. Whistling as he went, 
 the Red Avenger, with his hands 
 behind him, strolled carelessly 
 up the walk. Nobody in sight ! 
 The Boy Detective stepped into the barn 
 and was lost to view from the street. 
 Once inside this building, Peewee's de- 
 meanor changed. The careless observer 
 was laid off and the shrewd detective, hot 
 on the trail, appeared. Peewee dug fran- 
 tically into the haymow, felt along the 
 beams, tried the loose boards in the floor 
 and even poked into the grain box. 
 132
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 Nothing. 
 
 "Foiled again." 
 
 The Avenger finally ceased his search 
 and sat down on the ladder leading to 
 the haymow to rest and think. 
 
 "Wonder if he hain't buried it over in 
 the corner of the yard where he buried 
 the cent. I'll risk her." 
 
 Peewee carelessly strolled out into the 
 yard again and walked over to Shorty's 
 favorite corner. Ha, the ground had 
 been disturbed! Peewee looked all around. 
 No one in sight ! He dug his heel into 
 the earth and pushed aside the loose sod 
 and then dug with his hands. 
 
 Victory ! The box was quickly brought 
 to view, and Peewee with triumph in his 
 heart was gazing at the mysterious pencils. 
 
 "I'll put 'em right back after taking two 
 for evverdunce," said the wily one. "I'll 
 get this gang where I want um !" 
 
 Peewee pocketed the pencils, replaced 
 the box in the earth, covered it carefully 
 and strolled out of the Hitchcock yard, 
 whistling carelessly. 
 
 "As neat a piece of detective work as I 
 ever done in my whole career !" thought 
 133
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 the Boy Avenger as he made his way 
 up the street. 
 
 But Peewee's villainy was not en- 
 tirely without counteracting circum- 
 stances. After the Hitchcock family 
 had retired and when the house had 
 quieted down, Shorty slipped from 
 his room into the yard and dug up the 
 pencils. He had felt a nervous fear once 
 or twice during the day that all was not 
 well. The leering face of Peewee Jack- 
 son had been before his eyes and he 
 wondered how much that youthful sleuth 
 really knew. Shorty had counted the 
 pencils probably a hundred times and 
 knew that there were exactly eighteen of 
 them. When he hastily ran them over 
 at this time he found two missing ! With 
 fear tugging at his heart strings, Shorty 
 recounted them carefully. Still two pen- 
 cils short ! Shorty found difficulty in 
 swallowing. Somebody had been at the 
 hiding place and had secured complete 
 evidence of the crime ! 
 
 This terrible fact that the guilty knowl- 
 edge of the gang was shared by some 
 person or persons unknown, by a detec- 
 134
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 tive perhaps, or by the police, made cold 
 chills chase themselves up and down 
 Shorty's back. But the very ten- 
 sion produced by the horror of the 
 catastrophe drove him to action. 
 
 "I'll foil them," he muttered, "whoever 
 they are." 
 
 Shorty went over into the garden and 
 disinterred some dark object that had 
 been buried under the grapevine. This 
 he brought back and placed in the box in 
 which the pencils had been hidden. The 
 box was then carefully buried in the same 
 spot. 
 
 "There, gosh durn 'em ! Now let 'em 
 dig for their evidence." 
 
 Shorty took the pencils to the barn and 
 hid them on a beam above the haymow. 
 This done, he scurried back to the house 
 and regained his room without any one 
 being aware of his entrance. 
 
 135
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 In Which the Boys Decide to Take Uncle Ellery into 
 Their Confidence. 
 
 OHORTY always kept in hand a 
 series of leading strings almost 
 too numerous and too trivial 
 to record, but all very neces- 
 sary and indispensable to the 
 full and rounded boy life. One of his 
 lines of research indicated a fondness for 
 medical experiment, due either to the 
 early working of the scientific mind, or to 
 what his father called "just devilment." 
 
 The patent medicine habit had a strong 
 hold in Stony Lonesome. One of the 
 favorite remedies was a fiery brand of 
 "painkiller" which many people will 
 remember. When a sick boy saw the 
 painkiller bottle, his recovery was magi- 
 cal. Shorty had discovered a new and a 
 happier use for the medicine. 
 
 A strange tomcat had been hanging 
 around, stealing a chicken now and then 
 and fighting the local cats. By some 
 136
 
 device or other Shorty had made friends 
 
 with this cat and as an experiment poured 
 
 a few drops of the lotion on 
 
 his back. Every one knows 
 
 how cats dislike to have 
 
 liquid on their fur. This 
 
 animal hitched his back 
 
 once or twice, but finding 
 
 that he did not shake the moisture off, 
 
 turned his head and licked the spot. 
 
 Shorty said afterward that the cat rose 
 
 straight up in the air about a yard, and 
 
 then shot across the country like an 
 
 arrow, just touching the high spots and 
 
 the tops of the fences. 
 
 After this the boys watched for cats, 
 which after one experience never came 
 back. When the stray animals gave out, 
 Shorty extended his operations to the 
 neighborhood cats until people who saw 
 their tame animals acting as if they "were 
 going nowhere and trying to climb up on 
 nothing," protested. 
 
 At another time Shorty soaked a kernel 
 of corn in painkiller and tempted the 
 rooster's appetite. That bird's feathers 
 stood straight up on top of his head, his 
 
 137 
 10
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 brow appeared to be wrinkled with anxi- 
 ety, and he flew the coop crying: 
 
 "Fire!" 
 
 Shorty's father saw this episode, how- 
 ever, and all medical experiments came 
 to a sudden stop; so sudden, in fact, that 
 Shorty was rather painfully shaken up. 
 
 Another and a more satisfactory kind 
 of a jar came from the kicking of the old 
 shotgun that Uncle Ellery used to let the 
 boys take occasionally. This arm was 
 an old, double-barrelled, percussion-cap 
 affair, with barrels that appeared to be 
 nearly as thin as paper. Whether or not 
 she kicked when Uncle Ellery handled her 
 is not known, because Uncle Ellery main- 
 tained a discreet silence on her faults and 
 was generously appreciative of her good 
 qualities. 
 
 Doubtless the old arm was safe enough, 
 but in the hands of the boys it had a 
 strenuous recoil. There was a general 
 feeling that the gun knew her master, 
 but resented boy's play. Shorty had 
 worked Uncle Ellery to let him take the 
 gun, because he knew that there was 
 under Mrs. Mason's barn a certain fur- 
 138
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 bearing animal nameless in the presence 
 of our fastidious readers. Altogether 
 Shorty put in a good many hours watch- 
 ing for this animal to 
 come out and act as 
 target. 
 
 One day it ap- 
 peared. It would 
 have been better for 
 all concerned if 
 Shorty had backed 
 out and gone home. 
 But no boy ever hesi- 
 tates to shoot at any- 
 thing that wears fur. Shorty rested the 
 gun on the fence-top and pulled up the 
 anchor. A report that sounded like 
 the explosion of a few pounds of wet gun 
 cotton, combined with a cloud of white 
 smoke that hid the neighborhood for 
 several seconds, followed. Shorty "came 
 to," picked himself out of the cucumber 
 vines and looked around for game. 
 There was nothing in sight but a very 
 gamy perfume that struck the neighbor- 
 hood over the head, as it were, with a 
 board. Mrs. Mason appeared in the 
 139
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 barn door, holding her face in one hand 
 while she gesticulated with the other. 
 Shorty left as quickly as possible and 
 never saw his fur-bearing 
 friend again. 
 
 Every boy in Stony 
 Lonesome used to shoot 
 "patridges." The birds 
 enjoyed the sport keenly 
 and the percentage of fatalities was small. 
 There used to be a wily old mother bird 
 who lived in the woods back of the school 
 house, where she had raised families for 
 many years. Every boy in the neighbor- 
 hood for several generations had shot at 
 her, missed, grown old, passed the fowling 
 piece down to his children, who in turn had 
 shot at the bird, missed, and passed on. 
 
 Shorty met this bird one autumn 
 day among the hazel bushes near the 
 old beech tree. He suffered an at- 
 tack of buck ague, but managed to 
 unhitch the firearm. When the smoke 
 cleared away, the bushes were there 
 and the beech tree, but the partridge 
 was gone and no shot marks could be 
 found. Shorty had either fired into 
 140
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 the air, or the shot had leaked out because 
 the newspaper wadding did not cover the 
 charge. 
 
 Every boy at one time or another in his 
 life gets his ramrod stuck in the gun and 
 has to shoot it out. It is indeed a marvel 
 that so many boys come to maturity. 
 One day Shorty placed the butt of his 
 gun on a rock, aimed it straight up into 
 the air and fired the ramrod at 
 the zenith; then he made a 
 quick run for a tree so that it 
 would not hit him on the 
 head when it came down. 
 
 There was no necessity for 
 so much caution. The ramrod 
 never came back. The gun 
 store had an extra supply of ramrods on 
 hand and did a good business in them 
 with the boys. When Shorty was obliged 
 to confess the way in which the ramrod 
 was lost, his father was agitated and 
 spoke strongly about it. 
 
 The morning after the concert, when 
 
 Shorty was at the neighbor's house 
 
 playing tag with Jennie Forrest, they 
 
 were disturbed by a noise like a locomo- 
 
 141
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 tive whistling for a crossing. It was Spot 
 Maloney. Shorty stirred uneasily. 
 
 "I guess I'll have to be going. Spot's 
 come after me." 
 
 He answered Spot's signal with the war 
 whoop of the Mohicans. 
 
 "Been playing with the girls!" 
 "I haven't, neither." 
 "Saw yer over to Jen Forrest's." 
 "None of yer business if I was." 
 "Girl Baby !" 
 
 "Say that again an' I'll lick yer." 
 "Well, warn't yer over there?" 
 "What of it, if I was ?" 
 "Oh, nothin'." 
 
 "Nothin', is it ?" Shorty spoke bitterly. 
 "Guess I'll play with any one I wanter 
 for all of you." 
 "Huh!" 
 
 "Huh, yerself!" 
 "Say, Shorty!" 
 "What?" 
 
 "Yer can't beanykind of afeller and 
 have anything to do with the girls." 
 "Wasn't Moccasin Mose all the 
 time rescuing women from caves and 
 from Indians?" 
 
 142
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 This was a poser. 
 
 "Ye es. But he didn't go to their 
 house afterwards an' play with them." 
 
 This was another poser. 
 
 "Well, I'll go where I durn please." 
 
 "All right, go ahead." 
 
 "Well, I'm a-gointer when I wanter.' 
 
 "Say, Short !" 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "Let's go up on the house where the 
 carpenter's ter work." 
 
 "All right." 
 
 The boys climbed up a ladder into a 
 house that was under way and stood open 
 mouthed, watching the workmen. 
 
 "Say, boys, don't you want to run down 
 to Atkins's and ask him for my left- 
 handed monkey wrench ?" 
 
 "Sure." 
 
 The boys started on the run, anxious 
 to be accommodating. 
 
 Mr. Atkins looked at them quizzically. 
 
 "That's funny. It's up at Jobson's." 
 
 The boys started for Jobson's. Jobson 
 
 grinned and passed them to Watson. 
 
 The "left-handed monkey wrench" joke 
 
 served among workmen to keep boys 
 
 143
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 on the run from place to place sometimes 
 for an hour or two before they began to 
 suspect treachery. Another form of this 
 pleasantry was to send boys after "strap 
 oil." The boy who asked for strap oil 
 usually got the strap. 
 
 Shorty and Spot did not see through 
 the game for an hour. They went to and 
 fro until they found they were being sent 
 to the same place twice. Then they went 
 back to the house and took down the lad- 
 ders under the impression that they were 
 getting even. But they knew that this 
 was a mere makeshift and that the insult 
 was not by any means avenged. They 
 scored a deep mark against carpenters. 
 
 Is it any wonder that boys' minds are 
 full of suspicions and that their hands are 
 against nearly everybody ? 
 
 "Now they've thrown it into us that 
 way," said Shorty dejectedly, "I suppose 
 the next thing will be for the police to 
 swoop down and gather us in. I'm a 
 good mind to go down to the town hall 
 and confess the whole thing. That might 
 be the easiest way out. I can't stand this 
 much longer." 
 
 144
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "Well, you would be a nice one," said 
 Spot, in the deepest disgust. "I'm a 
 good mind to kick you. You want to go 
 to the reform school, don't you, and end 
 up in jail and wear bed tickin' ? Shucks ! 
 I was talking with Slim Jones and he 
 says the thing to do is to destroy the 
 evverdunce. He read it in Old Sleuth. 
 When the evverdunce is destroyed 
 they always fool the police for a long 
 time." 
 
 Once more hope began to spring up in 
 Shorty's breast. 
 
 "My gracious ! We could do that easy. 
 I wonder if we hadn't better ask Uncle 
 Ellery about it ?" 
 
 "Ask nothin'. We mustn't trust 
 nobody in this." 
 
 After Spot had gone home Shorty 
 dropped into Uncle Ellery's shop for a 
 little conversation on his own hook. 
 
 "Say, Uncle Ellery, what would you do 
 if you hadn't done nothin' and the police 
 had a clear case against you ? Course I 
 don't mean me. But supposin' it was 
 your case." 
 
 "Wai," said Uncle Ellery, "if I hadn't
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 done nothin', I don't see how they could 
 have a clear case against me." 
 
 "But supposin' a man had 
 been murdered and they 
 found his money hid in your 
 cellar." 
 
 "Yes," replied Uncle El- 
 lery, "that's sarcumstantial 
 evidence, to be sure. But 
 when I say I didn't do it and 
 my good standing in the 
 community backs me up, they look around 
 pretty carefully, and sooner or later they 
 find motives or clues that p'int to the 
 right party. That is, they 'most always 
 do. You know the story of the mule and 
 the goat, don't you ?" 
 "No, what is she?" 
 
 "Wai, the farmer was shoeing the mule 
 out in the barnyard and the goat was 
 near by. The farmer turned 'round and 
 bent over to pick up a shoe and the mule 
 kicked him right on the bend. When 
 he came to, the mule charged the 
 goat with the crime of buttin'. In 
 the excitement, the rooster lost his 
 head and declared it was his opinion 
 146 
 
 4B-J
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 that the goat did it. In fact, he said he 
 saw him do it. The goat would have 
 stood a mighty poor show if the mule's 
 hoof print, exact form and size, hadn't 
 been found on the farmer. See ? That 
 simple fact overturned the rooster's evi- 
 dence and the mule got a sentence of 
 hard labor. The cases ain't exactly paral- 
 lel, but they show what I mean." 
 
 Shorty laughed. 
 
 "Say, I'll see you again. P'raps I'll have 
 something to spring on you." 
 
 "All right, spring away !" said Uncle 
 Ellery. "I'll do the best I can for you." 
 
 Shorty left the shop and by a kind of 
 boy instinct made his way toward the 
 swimming hole behind the factory. It 
 was a warm day and he felt morally cer- 
 tain of finding Spot somewhere near the 
 river. Shorty had brooded over the 
 matter so much that the indelible pencils 
 reached out skeleton hands and clutched 
 at his heart every time anybody said 
 "police." Unfortunately, too, it was con- 
 sidered humorous by some of the boys to 
 shout, "The police are coming," and then 
 run in an attempt to start a panic. So 
 147
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 many of the boys had minor dere- 
 lictions on their minds such as 
 window smashing, ticktacking, or 
 stealing apples, that their fears 
 were seriously worked on by these 
 alarms, and under the present cir- 
 cumstances it can readily be seen 
 that the cry was particularly start- 
 ling to Shorty. 
 It must not be thought for a moment 
 that the police force of Stony Lonesome 
 was dangerous. It consisted merely of a 
 town marshal and a night watch, both as 
 harmless as the Scotland Yard detectives 
 in the Sherlock Holmes stories. But their 
 names had been used by so many moth- 
 ers to frighten small boys into obedience 
 that their functions were held in 
 awe in Stony Lonesome. 
 
 In addition to the fear of the 
 police, every time Shorty 
 went down town he had to 
 pass Spaulding's store, from 
 which he expected to see 
 Mr. Spaulding leap violently into 
 the street and denounce him as 
 a thief and a robber. 
 148
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 At the swimming hole Shorty found 
 Spot and Slim Jones sitting on the wharf 
 whittling tomahawks out of a piece 
 of clapboard taken from the new 
 house. The thin edge of the 
 clapboard served as the blade of 
 the weapon. 
 
 "Hello, Shorty!" said one of the boys. 
 "Going down town to-night ?" 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 "The engine's goin' to squirt." 
 
 "We heard the captain tell one of the 
 carpenters up to the new house." 
 
 "Durn if I want to go down town! 
 Spauldin'll nab us sure some day. I'll 
 bet anything he's got a detective in his 
 cellar now." 
 
 "Aw, go 'way!" 
 
 "That's all right. But I'd like to know 
 who's got stolen property hidden on their 
 premises !" 
 
 Spot and Slim wiggled uneasily. 
 
 "Yes, sir, that thing's bound to come 
 out. Everybody's talkin' about it. My 
 gracious, it's awful ! WVve got to do 
 something." 
 
 Slim Jones was wiggling around in a 
 149
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 way that showed that a new idea was 
 struggling to get to the surface. 
 
 "Let's swear Uncle Ellery in secrecy 
 and offer to divvy the reward with him if 
 he gets the money." 
 
 "It's the thing to do," said Shorty. 
 "Uncle Ellery won't turn us over to the 
 police." 
 
 "You bet he wouldn't if we'd stole the 
 stuff ourselves." 
 
 Spot demurred to this plan for a time 
 but was finally talked around to it. 
 
 "What are you going to do with the 
 
 fifty dollars reward ? It's always fifty, 
 
 isn't it ?" This from Slim Jones. 
 
 "I dunno." 
 
 "Say, I'd get a gun with it, wouldn't 
 
 ?n 
 
 "Yes, and a steam yacht to put on 
 the river." 
 
 "I want one of them yeller setting 
 dogs." 
 
 "And a bowie knife." 
 
 "Golly !" 
 
 The boys had stopped 
 their whittling and sat on 
 the wharf rolling in wealth. 
 150
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "We can trust old Uncle El," said 
 Shorty. 
 
 "Sure." 
 
 "Pa'd take all the money himself." 
 
 "P'raps that's so." 
 
 "Sure it is." 
 
 Then after a pause to give opportunity 
 to dreams: 
 
 "Ain't it great?" 
 
 "You bet." 
 
 "Say, we're fixed for life now." 
 
 "What you goin' to do ?" 
 
 "Oh, I dunno." 
 
 "Let's go out on tne plains !" 
 
 "I'm thinking some of goin' to 
 Europe for a few months." 
 
 "Burn Europe ! I'd like to try 
 Alaska. There's no end of money 
 there." . ,- 
 
 "Alaska's too cold." 
 
 "California's pretty good." 
 
 "So's Idaho." 
 
 "Let's go down and see Uncle 
 Ellery." 
 
 They found Uncle Ellery busy 
 on a casket. 
 
 "Hello, Uncle!"
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "How air ye, boys? What's new? Got 
 any strap oil lately ?" 
 
 Uncle Ellery struck a quizzical attitude 
 and looked down at the boys. 
 
 "Say, Uncle!" 
 
 "Wai?" 
 
 "We got a secret we wanter tell if you'll 
 promise not to give us away." 
 
 "All right, let her come!" 
 
 "You won't give us away?" 
 
 "No, siree! I'll stand by you till king- 
 dom come." 
 
 "You see there's money in it, and we 
 want you to help us get it; then we'll divvy 
 up." 
 
 Uncle Ellery knocked off work alto- 
 gether. The idea of money acts strongly 
 on the Anglo-Saxon mind. 
 
 "What you boys got up your sleeve ?" 
 
 "Well, it's this way. We found some 
 hidden treasure buried, an' we want to 
 get the reward. There'll be four of us to 
 divvy, you an' us three. We tell you 
 where the stuff is buried an' you fix it 
 with the police." 
 
 Uncle Ellery listened to the tale care- 
 fully. After it was finished, he said, "Say, 
 152
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 you just leave this to me, and I'll fix 
 it." 
 
 The boys did not say anything about 
 Spaulding's store. They merely told 
 of the discovery of the pencils and 
 where they were now concealed. 
 
 As the boys left the shop in much 
 better spirits than they had been for 
 several days, a figure standing behind 
 the window in the next store watched 
 them with a smile of triumph. It was 
 Peewee Jackson, the Boy Detective. 
 
 11 
 
 153
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 In Which Peewees Coup d' Etat Fails to Accomplish 
 Its Object. 
 
 WATCHING carefully dressed bank- 
 ers and brokers painfully follow- 
 ing the golf ball over hill and down dale, 
 I have often wished that they could 
 be induced to play kick-the-stick in 
 the way in which the boys played 
 it in Stony Lonesome. For this 
 strenuous form of sport, if the 
 wealthy man adopted it, each mil- 
 
 lionaire would have to provide himself a 
 good, stout stick. A fleshy banker with 
 the gout would be chosen goal keeper. 
 He would place his stick, a stout piece of 
 elm or hickory about a foot long, care- 
 fully against the corner of the barn. Then 
 the wealthy and distinguished president 
 of a trust company would be chosen to 
 "knock off." Taking his golf club, he 
 would knock the stick half a block. Then 
 all the millionaires would scatter like 
 jack rabbits and hide under the barns, on 
 154
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 the roofs around the corner, under the 
 sidewalk anywhere out of sight. The 
 fleshy old banker with the gout 
 would make a hurried run to re- 
 place the stick. As long as it 
 reclined against the goal, 
 he might "taggoul" for any 
 millionaire he saw. If, on 
 the other hand, while he 
 was out hunting for prey, 
 another millionaire rushed 
 in and knocked the stick, 
 the game would be blocked 
 for the goal keeper until he replaced it. 
 
 Finally the goal keeper would see some 
 wealthy oil merchant's glasses peering 
 over the roof of the house, and he would 
 emit a terrible yell: 
 
 "I seen J. Foster Calkins of the Penn- 
 sylvania Oil Company! Taggoul for J. 
 Foster Calkins !" 
 
 Then J. Foster would become 
 goal keeper, and the game 
 would stop while everybody 
 hollered: 
 
 "All in free !" 
 
 There's where your bankers 
 155
 
 and merchants would get exercise, shin- 
 ning up and down water pipes, crawling 
 S; under sidewalks and jumping 
 fences. And fun ! For pure 
 fun, kick-the-stick beats the 
 earth ! 
 
 While Shorty and the gang 
 were attempting to forget their 
 troubles in this highly diverting 
 game, in fact had for the mo- 
 ment forgotten them utterly and were 
 emptying a car load of noise on the 
 streets of "our quiet town," a visitor to 
 Uncle Ellery would have found that 
 genial raconteur's temper sadly ruffled. 
 Some one, doubtless one of the larger 
 boys who trained with Breezy Martin, 
 had stolen one of his coffins. This in 
 Stony Lonesome was considered a rare 
 bit of humor. 
 
 "If the cuss wasn't so all-fired little," 
 said Uncle Ellery viciously, "I'd believe 
 Peewee Jackson had done it." 
 
 Uncle Ellery knew that if he kept quiet, 
 
 the missing article would soon appear in 
 
 some way or other when the practical 
 
 joke, for which it was taken, was ripe. So 
 
 156
 
 he went on about his work apparently 
 undisturbed, though a little ruffled in- 
 wardly. Later in the morning he noticed 
 Peewee Jackson's nose flattened against 
 the pane of his shop window. Peewee 
 was doing detective work. He would 
 have scorned the thought of entering 
 Uncle Ellery's shop without carefully 
 looking over the ground in advance. 
 Uncle Ellery beckoned to him to enter 
 and Peewee sidled in. 
 
 "Say, Peewee," said Uncle Ellery, 
 "do you know who took my cof- 
 fin?" 
 
 Peewee's face expressed so much 
 astonishment that Uncle Ellery saw 
 at once that he knew nothing about the 
 raid on the shop. 
 
 "Naw ! When'd you lose her ?" 
 
 "Oh, some of you fellers toted her off 
 las' night, I guess." 
 
 "Say, I believe I know who done it !" 
 
 A brilliant Scotland Yard idea had 
 come to Peewee. 
 
 "You go an' look up in Shorty Hitch- 
 cock's barn !" 
 
 "Shorty!" 
 
 157
 
 Uncle Ellery knocked off work in the 
 utmost astonishment. Then he laughed. 
 "Those little devils wouldn't steal from 
 me." 
 
 "Wouldn't they?" Peewee was grimly 
 mysterious. "I know where they've got 
 plunder planted an' I kin prove it. I've 
 seen it !" 
 
 "Did ye see my coffin there?" Uncle 
 Ellery was leading Peewee on. 
 
 "No, I didn't, but it was several days 
 ago I saw their plant. But that gang's 
 equal to anything." 
 
 "If you know where the stuff's hid and 
 don't inform on the thieves you are in 
 danger of being accused, too," said Uncle 
 Ellery. 
 
 "I know my game," said Peewee 
 soberly, "an' I'm going to spring the 
 trap when I'm good and ready." 
 Uncle Ellery had to laugh. 
 "Say, you'll be on the force some 
 day." 
 
 "That's all right." 
 "Sure thing." 
 
 Uncle Ellery went on with his 
 work and Peewee went out. As he 
 158
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 passed down the street, he began to fear 
 that he had given his information away. 
 
 "My gosh ! Don't I know enough yet 
 to keep my mouth shut?" 
 
 Peewee kicked himself mentally and 
 went off to find Bill Kendall, the officer. 
 
 Old Sleuth had not been gone very 
 long before Shorty, Spot, and Slim Jones 
 wandered into Uncle Ellery's shop. 
 
 "Say, boys," said Uncle Ellery, "did you 
 tell Peewee Jackson about your plant ?" 
 
 "Peewee!" 
 
 The boys looked at one another in 
 horror. 
 
 "No, sir; we wouldn't tell Peewee for 
 nothin'." 
 
 "Well, I'm afraid Peewee's going to 
 make us trouble. Suppose we go up and 
 look at your plunder." 
 
 "What's Peewee know?" asked Shorty. 
 
 "He says he knows where your plant 
 is." 
 
 "My gosh ! It's Peewee got the pen- 
 cils !" said Shorty. 
 
 "Wai," said Uncle Ellery, "you didn't 
 steal 'em. He can't hurt you none. We'll 
 go up to the house an' look 'em over." 
 159
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 Uncle Ellery got into his coat, locked his 
 inner door, leaving the outer shop open, 
 and started up the street with the boys. 
 On the way Shorty whispered some- 
 thing to him that made him laugh. 
 There was a general feeling that the 
 explosion was near. The air was full of 
 electricity. As they came in sight of 
 Shorty's house, Spot grabbed Shorty by 
 the arm and in a voice of horror ex- 
 claimed: 
 
 "My gosh, look there!" 
 Over in the Hitchcock yard stood Bill 
 Kendall and Peewee Jackson talking with 
 Mr. Hitchcock. 
 
 "Come on, boys," said Uncle Ellefy. 
 "I'll stand by you." 
 
 "Henry," said Mr. Hitchcock, 
 "what does this mean ? Henry 
 Jackson says that you have stolen 
 property secreted in these prem- 
 ises." 
 
 "Yes," said Peewee, "an' it's 
 buried in that corner." 
 
 "Then why don't you dig her 
 up ?" asked Shorty. 
 
 "Henry," said Mr. Hitchcock 
 160
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 severely, "have you any stolen property 
 buried there ?" 
 "No, sir!" 
 
 "Dig her up," said Peewee, the Red 
 Avenger. 
 
 Bill Kendall took the spade Shorty 
 procured and lifted the turf. A shovel 
 or two of earth was scooped away and 
 the box came to view. Peewee reached 
 down and opened it and started back 
 with surprise. In it was a dead 
 cat. 
 
 "Looky here," said Bill Kendall furi- 
 ously to Peewee. "You fade away quick 
 or I'll clap you in jail." 
 "But"- began Peewee. 
 "You fade !" 
 
 Peewee was frightened and hurried 
 away on the run. Uncle 
 Ellery was chuckling audi- 
 bly and Mr. Hitchcock 
 was mildly amused. 
 
 "Now," said Uncle 
 Ellery, "let's get 
 at the facts. Boys, 
 bring your plunder 
 out." 
 161
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 Shorty produced the pencils and told 
 his story of the find. 
 
 "They came from the Spaulding's store 
 robbery, I guess," said Shorty, "and me 
 and Spot and Slim thought we'd claim 
 the fifty dollars reward for finding stolen 
 property." 
 
 "Spaulding's store robbed !" 
 Both Uncle Ellery and Bill Kendall 
 burst into loud laughter and Mr. Hitch- 
 cock smiled. 
 
 "Spaulding's store wasn't never robbed," 
 said the officer. 
 
 "But it said so in the paper," said 
 Shorty. 
 
 "That was an April fool publication, 
 Henry," said Mr. Hitchcock. "The editor 
 put it in as a joke." 
 
 "Then whose pencils are they?" 
 "Wai," remarked Uncle Ellery, "come 
 to think of it, old Matherson, the her- 
 mit, used to live up in them woods. He 
 sold indelible pencils until he took 
 sick and went to the poorhouse. 
 Probably the boys have found his 
 old nest. He used to hide his stuff 
 because he was afraid of robbers." 
 162
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 "Say, then we've been worrying about 
 nothing." 
 
 It was Shorty who spoke. 
 
 "That's what people usually worry 
 about," replied Uncle Ellery. 
 
 "Then our fifty dollars"- Slim 
 
 Jones saw the foolishness of the question 
 before it was asked and ended up with, 
 "Come on boys, let's go in swimmin' 
 again." 
 
 And the boys scurried away laughing 
 and whooping. At any rate the burden 
 of the fear was lifted, even if the fifty 
 dollars had gone glimmering. 
 
 "But say, we'll fix that Peewee," said
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 Spot. Til lick him within an inch of his 
 life." 
 
 "He ain't no kind of a detective," said 
 Slim. 
 
 "I don't believe he could detect that 
 skunk under Mrs. Mason's barn," said 
 Shorty with much contempt. 
 
 There has not been much of a story 
 told in this book and it does not need 
 much of an ending. In fact it never has 
 ended. The old place is right on earth 
 still and the game of life is going on with- 
 out interruption. 
 
 It would be difficult to tell all that hap- 
 pened during those happy years in Stony 
 Lonesome, of which Shorty and Spot 
 were the greater part. Things were 
 always happening there. When the river 
 came up in the spring floods and stood 
 around in the post office, delaying the 
 United States mail, Shorty fell from a 
 cake of ice he was trying to navigate and 
 was nearly drowned. The horse took a 
 kick at him once, and later he was chased 
 across the pasture by a cross bull. Twice 
 164
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 he fell from the barn window. Once he 
 ran away out West to shoot Indians and 
 was nearly five miles from home before 
 he decided to give it up. The teacher 
 reached for him with the ruler rather 
 too often for comfort. Uncle Ellery we 
 had always with us. Shorty used to 
 marvel a good deal at his stories until 
 one day he got hold of the old 
 patent medicine almanac that grandpa 
 used to hang up by a string behind the 
 stove, and there he found several stories 
 that Uncle Ellery had appropriated, slyly 
 putting himself in as the hero. 
 
 As time went on, many of the boys 
 left the old home and scattered over 
 the country. They are playing other 
 games now, games of politics and finance 
 that seem to them more serious and im- 
 portant. I wonder if they are ? 
 
 When Judge Hitchcock (Shorty) re- 
 turned from the Old Home celebration 
 last year, he said that the old place 
 was still a bit rocky and a little 
 lonesome without Uncle Ellery. 
 
 We heard with pained surprise 
 that Frankie Foster had lived down 
 165
 
 Stony Lonesome 
 
 his reputation as the good boy. He used 
 sea language and was not quite so fastidi- 
 ious about the use of tobacco as he might 
 have been. 
 
 In Henry Jackson, the well-known Bos- 
 ton detective, who traced out the Farm- 
 ington bank robbery, we recognized 
 Peewee again still on the trail. 
 
 Spot Maloney ? 
 
 Oh, Spot is in Kansas City and doing 
 very well. In fact, we are all doing very 
 well indeed, thank God, and could we 
 get as far away from the present as we 
 are from the Stony Lonesome days, the 
 present itself would appear as full of 
 glory as those old days do now. 
 
 1 66
 
 fill! 
 
 L.C.-:A;T/ Gf TS'S 
 
 .WALT DiSNTf STL 1 :,: