OF CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS AHGELES
 
 THE RED RUNNERS
 
 "THEY 
 T 
 
 THKOUQH THE 
 
 O^>TET 
 FANE!' 
 
 HARKINSON'S LAST VISIT
 
 THE 
 
 RED RUNNERS 
 
 BY 
 
 SECKATARY HAWKINS 
 
 rS 
 
 Illustrations by 
 CABLL B. WILLIAMS 
 
 CINCINNATI 
 
 STEWART KIDD COMPANY 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1M8, BY 
 ROBERT P. SCHULKERS 
 
 All Rights Reserved
 
 TO 
 
 MY OLD TEACHER 
 "ONE FINE FELLA" 
 
 2130195
 
 ACKNOWLEDGMENT 
 
 These stories appeared originally in The Cincinnati 
 Enquirer. I am indebted to the kindness of the pub- 
 lishers of that newspaper for permission to reprint them 
 in bookf orm. 
 
 SECKATARY HAWKINS.
 
 Contents 
 
 Chapter 
 
 I. HOME AGAIN. 
 
 II. A BOXING MATCH. 
 
 III. HAKKESTSON. 
 
 IV. THE CAMP ON THE ISLAND. 
 V. THE WOODCHOPPERS. 
 
 VI. SINGING BY THE CAMPFIRE. 
 
 VII. HAM GAKDNER'S TIP. 
 
 VIII. HAWKINS AGAINST HARKINSON. 
 
 IX. HAWKINS DONS THE GLOVES. 
 
 X. THE END or VACATION. 
 
 XI. LINK'S FAREWELL PARTY. 
 
 XII. THE RED RUNNERS. 
 
 XIII. THE SILVER CUP. 
 
 XIV. SHADOW LOOMIS JOINS. 
 XV. THE CALL or A NIGHTBIRD. 
 
 XVI. A PAIR OF OWLS. 
 
 XVII. SEVENTH IN LINE. 
 
 XVIII. A HALLOWE'EN PHANTOM. 
 
 XIX. THE FACE IN THE DARK. 
 
 XX. THE PELHAMS IN TROUBLE. 
 
 XXI. THE CANARY. 
 
 nii 
 
 Pae 
 1 
 
 12 
 24 
 34 
 44 
 
 54 
 
 65 
 
 76 
 
 86 
 
 96 
 
 105 
 
 117 
 
 127 
 
 138 
 
 149 
 
 159 
 
 169 
 
 180 
 
 191 
 
 201 
 
 212
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 XXII. THE HIDDEN HOUSEBOAT. 222 
 
 XXIII. ANDROFSKI THE SILENT. 232 
 
 XXIV. SAVING THE SECRET. 242 
 XXV. LASKY GOES HOME. 251 
 
 XXVI. A BAG OF TOYS. 263 
 
 XXVII. NEW YEAR'S EVE. 274 
 
 XXVIII. A ROLLING STONE. 284 
 
 XXIX. THE TRAP THAT DIDN'T WORK. 294 
 
 XXX. HARKINSON'S LAST VISIT. 305 
 
 XXXI. THE PRAYER IN THE LOG HOUSE. 315 
 
 XXXII. THE ROUNDUP. 3-26 
 
 riv
 
 THE RED RUNNERS
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 Home Again 
 
 HOME again! 
 Ah, boy! How good it looked to me! You 
 fellows who have never been a thousand miles 
 away from home you don't know what this home- 
 coming meant to me. Here was the old river! The old 
 trees, the old bank, the old hollow, the old shack! The 
 morning sun of midsummer time sifted through the 
 softly swaying branches and fell in splotches around the 
 place I stood upon. And I looked across the river to- 
 ward Pelham, still sound asleep in its town of tumble- 
 down houses, and then my mind went back to Cuba 
 Well, there's no place like home, be it ever so tumble- 
 down, be it ever so humble. I had arrived home the 
 night before, too late to see any of the boys, and my 
 folks were so glad to see me that I had to sit up until 
 midnight telling them of all our experiences in Cuba, 
 and I fell asleep at last. The others in our party went 
 to Doc's house for the night. But early in the morning 
 I opened my eyes. At once I felt a longing to see the 
 river bank the old hangout place, and I hurried into 
 my clothes and sneaked out all alone. The birds were 
 making music in the treetops along the way, and I felt 
 as happy as a lark. Soon, I said to myself, I shall meet 
 all my boys; soon we shall be talking together in our 
 little clubhouse. Oh, how happy it made me feel to 
 know that I was back here, home again! 
 
 1
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 I stood on that little hill on the top of the river 
 bank and gazed around me; it all looked the same as it 
 had before I left; only the trees were fresh green again, 
 the rushes had grown somewhat out into the shallow 
 water, and the cliffs were covered more this year with 
 green growth than I had ever seen them in my lifetime. 
 High up beyond me was that cliff in which Stoner used 
 to have his hiding place; beyond that rose the topmost 
 peak where we had seen his signal lights. The Pelhams 
 had a new wharf built on their side of the river, and a 
 dozen smart-looking canoes were upside down upon it. 
 Not a sign of any living thing was to be seen; it was 
 sunrise, and I was back home, there all by myself wait- 
 ing anxiously until I could shake my boys by the hand 
 again. 
 
 I chuckled to myself as I thought of how they would 
 greet me, and, turning back, I started for home, hoping 
 ma would have breakfast waiting. As I turned I saw 
 a movement in the bushes that lined the path. I stopped 
 again and waited. There came no further move of any 
 kind, or any sound. I started on again, and, as I did 
 so, the bushes parted and a boy stepped out in front of 
 me. He was new to me. I had never seen his face. 
 But I liked it the moment my eyes fell upon it. It was 
 a bright-looking face and a regular boyish one, with 
 eyes that spoke of mischief. He barred my way with 
 outstretched arms. 
 
 "Wait just a minute, sir," he said in a commanding 
 tone. "What are you doing here?" 
 
 I could not help laughing, but I smothered it as 
 much as I could. 
 
 "I'm just looking around. I hope I haven't been 
 doing something that you do not like." 
 
 He looked at me seriously and said: 
 2
 
 HOME AGAIN 
 
 "If you haven't a good reason for being here I'll 
 have to order you off. We don't allow strangers here." 
 
 "Oh, excuse me," I said quickly. "I'm sure I didn't 
 mean to intrude. But may I ask who you mean when 
 you say 'we'?" 
 
 He took my arm and, turning half around, pointed 
 down into the hollow, where a bright new flag of the 
 Stars and Stripes waved above a rooftop, almost hidden 
 in the treetops. 
 
 "The boys who hang out in that clubhouse," he 
 said in a very serious voice, "run this whole place. 
 They don't leave anybody loaf around. And I'm over- 
 seer of it. They just appointed me. You see that flag?" 
 
 "Yeah," I said, "it's a beauty. I bet it cost four 
 dollars." 
 
 He grunted. 
 
 "It cost six," he said, "and we've got the whole 
 porch decorated with smaller ones. They cost a quarter 
 apiece. We've got to celebrate, you know?" 
 
 "What for?" I asked, and then, "Oh, yes, it's the 
 Fourth of July pretty soon, isn't it?" 
 
 He gave me a look as of pity, then shook his head. 
 
 "That's not it," he said. "We're going to have 
 company. We decorated the shack and everything, 
 and we've got fireworks, too." 
 
 "Is that so?" I exclaimed. "Well, I think I'll go 
 down and have a look at those decorations." 
 
 I started down the path, but he grabbed me. 
 
 "Oh, no you won't," he said, "not while I'm over- 
 seer. We don't allow it. You just take yourself away 
 from here as fast as you can. If the boys catch me talk- 
 ing to you friendly like they'll think I'm in with the 
 Pelham fellows, or something." 
 
 I smiled at him, but he kept a serious face. 
 3
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "May I ask your name?" I asked. 
 
 He pointed up the path. 
 
 "Git," he said, "as fast as those fat legs of your'n 
 will take you." 
 
 I said no more, but went up the path. I had to 
 chuckle to myself, however, as I went, and when I got 
 home mother was waiting with battercakes and 'lasses 
 for breakfast. 
 
 Oh, gee, boys, it's great to be back home and 
 summertime, too, vacation and everything. 
 
 It was about 10 o'clock when I went back down the 
 path toward the river. When I reached the woodland 
 I heard a very familiar sound the music of the old 
 organ that used to be Lew Hunter's favorite pastime in 
 our old houseboat headquarters. And I could hear the 
 voices of several boys singing, and I knew that Lew 
 Hunter still had his boys in training, and that singing 
 practice was one of the daily duties. How sweet those 
 voices sounded! I could not recognize them; there 
 were several, some singing soprano and others alto, 
 while Lew's rich tenor rose above them all. The words 
 of the song they were singing came to me clearly: 
 
 "The mists of the morning are rolling away, 
 The stars quickly fade at the coming day; 
 The foam of the billows already I see, 
 And there lies my bark still in waiting for me." 
 
 Ah, boy, how it sounded to me, just home again after 
 a seven-months' absence, fifteen-hundred miles away. I 
 reached the path to the clubhouse unseen. And there 
 I stopped and looked down at the clubhouse. It was 
 my first look in seven months. How pretty it was! 
 The porch had been extended around the little shack, 
 
 4
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 and the whole building had been newly painted, the body 
 green, the trimmings white, and the trees and bushes 
 that clustered about it seemed to love the little place 
 as much as I loved it myself. The clubhouse was gay 
 with little flags, while from a high pole, rising from the 
 porch above the door, there floated a big silk banner, 
 the greatest emblem in the world the Stars and Stripes. 
 I took off my hat and waited until the singing ended. 
 
 Then I slowly walked down to the steps of the porch. 
 There was not a soul in sight. Lew certainly had them 
 all well trained in the matter of singing practice. I 
 walked up the steps slowly and shoved gently on the 
 door. 
 
 "Hi, fellas," I said in a low voice. 
 
 They all turned as if they had been frightened. I 
 saw a bunch of happy faces looking at me my old 
 faces of my old boys, and, you can believe this or not, 
 I had tears in my eyes as I stood there and held out 
 ray hand to them. They stared at me for fully a minute, 
 I believe, and then one of them shouted: 
 
 "Hawkins!" And he came running over to me. 
 It was Jerry Moore, great big, old Jerry Moore, with a 
 tan, freckled face, and stub nose; yeah, he came and 
 grabbed me by my shoulders, and the others yelled, too, 
 and came to me. They almost bowled me over with 
 their weight. 
 
 "Git back there," yelled Jerry, in his old-time way. 
 "Git back there, Bill Darby; give the Seckatary air. 
 What you mean by acting that-a way?" 
 
 But I silenced Jerry, and shook them all by the hand. 
 Dick Ferris, still the Captain, demanded the right to 
 sit next to me. Lew Hunter came up, after all the others 
 had had their say, and took my hand and wrung it 
 warmly. 
 
 6
 
 HOME AGAIN 
 
 "Dear old pal," he said, with a smile, "just been 
 thinking you had passed us up. But I knew you would 
 come. Some of the boys said they thought you would 
 not want to have any more to do with the club when 
 you got back. But I said you would." 
 
 "You know me, Lew," I said. "It's me for this 
 bunch of fellows as long as I can stick. Say, I wouldn't 
 give up this clubhouse full of boys for anything I saw 
 all the way to Cuba and back again." 
 
 Then I went from one to the other and talked a 
 little with each. Bill Darby was sore at Jerry for 
 "bawling him out" when I came in, and still wanted 
 me to referee a fight between him and Jerry to settle it. 
 But I settled it with a few soothing words in Bill's ear 
 about a ball game we would have that afternoon. Johnny 
 McLarren and Roy Dobel followed me around every- 
 where I went, and listened to every word I said to 
 everybody else. In fact, I couldn't be at rest a minute 
 before some one of them would be firing questions at 
 me faster than I could meet them. 
 
 But presently there came something to put an end 
 to it, in the way of a noise out on the porch, and before 
 anyone could rush to see who it was, the door was flung 
 open and a boy stood there. He was a tall, good-looking 
 boy. At first I did not recognize him. But at the 
 second look I knew him. 
 
 "It's Link!" I yelled. 
 
 "Not if I know him," said Jerry Moore. 
 
 But in came Link, the old Skinny Guy of other days, 
 smiling and holding his hands out. The boys went up 
 to him slowly, but when he said "Hi, fellas," they knew 
 that voice. But what was it that made him look so differ- 
 ent? Of course he had new clothes. They were bought 
 for him in Jacksonville, by Doc Waters and Link's 
 
 7
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 daddy. But there was something else about him that 
 puzzled me, but ah, yes, now I knew what it was: Link 
 had had his hair cut! 
 
 He was a different boy. Still as skinny as ever, 
 but with a different expression in his eyes, my Skinny 
 Guy was no longer the same raggedy, barefoot, tangle- 
 haired youth that I had met one December morning 
 swiping lumber from our side of the river to build tree 
 houses for the Pelhams. No, no! Link Lambert had 
 changed. He had grown taller. He wore decent clothes, 
 and to top it off as the greatest wonder of the world 
 he had had his long, straggling locks cut. 
 
 "Well," I said to myself, as I watched the boys 
 clustering around him with greetings and laughter, 
 "the trip to Cuba did some good for Link, any- 
 how." 
 
 Dick Ferris and Lew Hunter separated themselves 
 from the crowd and came over to me. "Hawkins," 
 said Link, "we have something to show you. Come 
 with us." 
 
 I followed them to the rear beyond the table and 
 chairs of the meeting room, where a curtain hung. I had 
 not noticed this when I came in. It had not been there 
 when I left. It was new to me. They drew back the 
 curtain and said "Step in." 
 
 I stepped into a new room that had been built to 
 the clubhouse. It was a pretty little place, with two 
 windows and a rear door, a couple of chairs on each 
 side, a small table with a little lamp with a green shade, 
 and an oak writing desk. 
 
 "Well, of all things," I said. "You boys have been 
 improving the clubhouse since I've been gone. This is 
 fine, sure." 
 
 8
 
 HOME AGAIN 
 
 They both were smiling, well pleased. 
 
 "It's for you," said Dick. 
 
 "For me?" I repeated in surprise. "You made this 
 room for me?'* 
 
 They nodded. 
 
 "Yes," said Lew Hunter, "this is the Seckatary's 
 writing room. And we made up our minds before you 
 came back that we wouldn't have any other fella for 
 seckatary but you." 
 
 "Oh," I said, "thanks. That's nice, even if you 
 didn't ask me about it. But say, this is fine. I'll feel 
 like writing some things in here, boys." 
 
 Now weren't they the real kind of boys a fellow 
 likes to chum with, and do anything for that he 
 is able to do? I sat down at the little desk they 
 had put there for me, and smiled as I saw the many 
 little cards, with verses and little notes, welcoming me 
 back, and wishing me luck, and I dropped my chin in 
 my hands and fell to thinking. They both skipped 
 out quietly and allowed the curtain to fall back into 
 place. What a fine bunch of boys, thought I, and how 
 glad I am to be back with them instead of being with 
 those Rafaels and Montillas and Gabriels and other 
 revolutionists in that island far away. I imagine that 
 the boys thought they should leave me there by myself 
 to appreciate their show of kind feelings; for anyway I 
 heard them scurrying out, Link in their midst, and I 
 knew they were headed for the ball grounds in the 
 hollow. I opened the Seckatary's book that I had not 
 seen since I left. In it, mostly pasted in the proper 
 places, were all the writings that I had made in Cuba, 
 copies of which I had sent regularly to Dick Ferris. 
 On the front of a new book that lay beside it was printed 
 
 9
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 in Lew Hunter's hand: "Seckatary Hawkins His 
 Book." I smiled. A sound came from the front room. 
 I looked up. The curtains parted, and I looked into 
 the face of that self-styled "overseer," the boy who 
 had told me to "Git" earlier in the morning. He looked 
 at me with open mouth and wide eyes. Then he 
 blurted out: 
 
 "Was it you I met this morning you the fella' 
 these boys were waiting for?" 
 
 "Yes," I said, smiling, "I am Seckatary Hawkins." 
 
 He grinned at me, and then slowly held out his 
 hand to me. 
 
 "I guess I'm a bone-head," he said, "but shucks! 
 I didn't know; never met you in my life before you'll 
 excuse me, won't you?" 
 
 "With all my heart," I answered, "if you'll tell me 
 who you are." 
 
 "Perry I'm Perry Stokes, sir," he said, "but they 
 all just call me Perry. I just joined the bunch a 
 month ago came down from Watertown, sir. Hope 
 you'll like me as well as the other boys do." 
 
 "I'm sure I will, Perry," I answered. "Will you 
 run down to the ball lot and ask the boys to come up. 
 I'm anxious to have a meeting before Doc Waters and 
 Judge Granbery come." 
 
 He clapped his green cap on his head and was off 
 like a shot. I smiled and followed him to the door, 
 where I stood until he disappeared in the green. I 
 stood there, happy as a lark, thinking of good times in 
 store for us this summer, when from the river path a 
 figure approached. 
 
 Ah, how could I ever forget that figure! The same 
 ragged, shiftless kid, with a surly look and an expres- 
 sion on his face that made you think he was always 
 
 10
 
 HOME AGAIN 
 
 hunting a shoulder with a chip on it. Briggen it was, 
 Briggen of the Pelham gang across the river. 
 
 He stopped short when he saw me standing in the 
 door. For a full minute he gazed at me, as though I 
 were a ghost. Then, without a sound, he turned and 
 quickly fled back to the river. 
 
 11
 
 II 
 A Boxing Match 
 
 WE HAD a great celebration on the Fourth- 
 I never saw so much fireworks and decora' 
 tions. Of course the boys had the clubhouse 
 all decked out in honor of the holiday, but it seemed 
 to me that they imagined it was more on account of our 
 homecoming than anything else. 
 
 The day following our arrival we had a meeting in 
 the clubhouse, which made it seem like old times. 
 Dick Ferris sat himself down in the Captain's chair, 
 and Link and I took our regular places, as though we 
 had been doing that very thing right along. I could 
 not help laughing at Perry Stokes, the new boy who 
 had been appointed "overseer" by Dick Ferris, of 
 course, to look after things while the boys were not 
 around. Perry had a funny way about him, which 
 seemed to be that he imagined he was a very important 
 person around the place. He arranged the chairs, and 
 dusted the table, opened the windows, got my book 
 and pen and ink out, put the Captain's wooden hammer 
 in front for his place and all such things. I watched 
 him with a smile as he flitted about with such a serious 
 look on his face that would lead you to think he was a 
 mighty important member. But he was a nice kid, 
 not fresh, but just anxious to make good in the job to 
 which his Captain had appointed him. 
 
 I had told Link to bring Will Standish down with 
 him, but he came alone, and told me that Doc Waters 
 had taken Will up to Watertown with him to buy a 
 
 12
 
 A BOXING MATCH 
 
 few things. So we went ahead with our meeting. After 
 that the fellows made me get up and tell them about 
 the trip to Cuba and the fate of Rafael and the hidden 
 treasure. It seemed that they could not believe that all 
 that money that was hidden in the Granada casks had 
 been lost. Of course, I had written each week what 
 had happened, and they had received my writings reg- 
 ularly, for Dick Ferris, to whom I addressed them, 
 pasted them in the Seckatary's book, where they could 
 be read by every one in the club. But they thought I 
 had just made it up. They didn't believe that we would 
 let all that Granada gold get out of our hands. But I 
 crossed my heart when I told it to them again there in 
 the clubhouse, and I think they believe me now. Lew 
 Hunter said he felt very sorry for Elam, the poor little 
 lame man with the greenish face, although he said he 
 did not like him the first time he read about that green 
 face peeking in my bedroom window one midnight. 
 
 Oh, well, I told them some things, and then Link 
 had to get up and make a little speech, but all that he 
 could talk about was his new home down around Lex- 
 ington, I believe, where he said he would live from 
 now on. 
 
 Then Will Standish came good old Will. Gee, he's 
 a fine chap. So different. He came in the clubhouse 
 smiling. 
 
 "Ah, there you are, Hawkins," he said, in his snappy 
 tone; "I thought I should find the way easily. Hope 
 I'm not intruding upon one of your meetings." 
 
 I laughed. "Come in, Will," I said; "we've just 
 been waiting for you. I want you to meet the boys 
 yeah, these are the fellows I told you about when we 
 were down in sunny Cuba together." 
 
 He came in smiling and happy and shook hands with 
 13
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 all of the boys, saying how glad he was to be here for 
 a short vacation, and how happy he was to meet boys 
 from Kentucky. 
 
 "You know," he said, "all that I heard from Hawkins 
 while he was down in Cuba was about old Kentucky 
 and his boys up here. And I'm sure he didn't stretch 
 his tales about you he told me about Stoner's Boy, 
 too." 
 
 "The worst boy we ever saw around here," said 
 Lew Hunter; "but I don't think he was anything com- 
 pared with the frightful things you boys met in 
 Cuba." 
 
 Will laughed. "There were some fast rides to make," 
 he said. "I suppose Hawkins told you of my green 
 motor boat? Yes? It's a whizzer. There's none on 
 the river that can touch her. And we had to use her 
 sometimes once in the dark at night." 
 
 And so it went. The talk ran mostly about Cuba, 
 but Will managed to ask some questions about us and 
 our clubhouse doings and so forth, so that he got a 
 pretty fair idea of our bunch and how we made life 
 pleasant here on the river bank. The boys told him 
 about our old times in the houseboat, after Will got to 
 asking questions about that, and then they added a 
 few tales of Stoner's Boy and our battles with the gray 
 ghost. Will seemed to enjoy it, and the boys were at- 
 tached to him from the start. As I sat there watching 
 them, letting Will and the boys do all the talking, I 
 thought that Will had a shade the better of my boys 
 in knowledge. He had had better schooling, of course. 
 But Will did not show off, nor try to make the others 
 feel it; he just sat there, laughing, talking, acting as 
 though he had known them all his life. That's the 
 kind of a kid I like. You can always depend on a 
 
 14
 
 A BOXING MATCH 
 
 fellow of that kind. He's bound to be a good friend in 
 the long run, where others might fail if put to & test. 
 
 But one voice in that crowd was not heard. It was 
 Jerry Moore. He sat over on his side of the table with 
 his arms folded listening to the talk, his eyes upon 
 Will Standish. "What's the matter with Jerry?" I 
 thought to myself. And then, after we had gone out- 
 side for our usual ball game, I found out what 
 was rankling in Jerry's breast. He came up to me 
 as I came out. 
 
 "Hawkins," he said, "what kind of a sissy is this new 
 fella' you brought with you?" 
 
 "Jerry," I said, "I'm surprised. You're a sensible 
 fellow, and you shouldn't talk like that." 
 
 Jerry stuck out his chin and his hands doubled into 
 fists. "I know," he said, "but us boys knew you all 
 our life. Here comes a fella* what's never been a mem- 
 ber of this here club, and he thinks you belong to 
 him." 
 
 I couldn't "get" Jerry for a minute, and I looked him 
 square in the eye. 
 
 "You know what I mean," he continued. "Listen, 
 Hawkins. Ain't I been your best friend all your life?" 
 
 "Indeed you have, Jerry, old boy," I said, slapping 
 him on the back, "and you and I are always going to 
 be pardners. But Will is a good friend, too." 
 
 Jerry shook his head. "That won't go," he said, in 
 a disappointed tone. "If that guy stays around here 
 you won't ever be the same old Hawkins with us. You'll 
 be having him to look after; you won't ever have time 
 for us boys any more." 
 
 I wanted to say more to Jerry. I wanted to change 
 this foolish notion in his mind, but Jerry is strong- 
 headed. He always was. And he didn't give me time 
 
 15
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 to say any more to him. He simply turned and walked 
 rapidly down to the ball lot in the hollow. 
 
 "Good old Jerry," I said to myself. 
 
 I went down to the hollow because the boys had 
 asked me to umpire a game of scrub. But there was 
 more to come of this. Bill Darby had invited Will to 
 try his hand at pitching. Now Will had had some train- 
 ing in baseball down in Cuba. The Cubans are great 
 baseball fans. Every little kid down there, white, brown, 
 or black, begins to play baseball just as soon as he is 
 big enough to hold a bat and ball. And Will had learned 
 to pitch. In fact, he struck out Bill Darby, Lew Hunter, 
 and Roy Dobel one after another. Dick Ferris got a 
 hit, a straight bounder that Will picked up quickly and 
 sailed to first in plenty of time. Johnny McLarren 
 bounded a couple of fouls and fanned the wind 
 for the third. Jerry grasped the bat next, and 
 from the set look on his face I knew that Jerry had 
 made up his mind to sail the ball to kingdom come 
 just to show up this Will Standish. 
 
 Now, the worst part of this was, I was umpiring. 
 I knew I was in for it, and when Will pitched the first 
 ball Jerry made a vicious swing at it that turned him 
 around like a spinning top. I had to laugh, and I hated 
 to yell the "Strike One," but it had to be done. The 
 boys standing around laughed, too. Jerry finally stopped 
 spinning, and turned a scowling face upon the boys 
 who laughed. Then he turned and gave me a hard 
 look, spat upon his hands and took a firmer hold upon 
 his bat. Will stood waiting for him to get position. 
 Will did not laugh, nor smile. I suppose Will knew he 
 had a tough customer, and I wondered whether or not 
 Will would pitch an easy one for Jerry to hit, so that 
 there would be no feeling in the matter. But when the 
 
 16
 
 A BOXING MATCH 
 
 second pitched ball whizzed past Jerry's bat I knew 
 that Will was sticking to his old form. "Strike!" I 
 yelled again. Jerry stood up waiting for the next one. 
 Jerry swung a heavy hickory bat, but he batted noth- 
 ing. No, the ball reached the catcher's mitt on Dick 
 Ferris's hand without injury of any kind. If that ball 
 had connected with the blow that Jerry intended for 
 it, it would have been "good-night ball." 
 
 Jerry was sore; it was plain to see that. He flung 
 the bat into the grass with a grunt. Then he walked 
 straight down to where Will Standish stood. Will 
 waited for him with his hands resting upon his hips, 
 but there was no smile on Will's face. As Jerry neared 
 him I could see Will size him up from head to foot, 
 and Will's face was white, but his eyes were sparkling 
 with a light of courage. 
 
 "You're some pitcher," said Jerry, with a false 
 smile, "but you don't count, see? You don't belong to 
 this club, and you had no right to pitch. Hawkins is 
 our Seckatary, I'll let you know that, and there ain't 
 no Cuban goin' to coax him out of our club." 
 
 Will did not smile; he did not move. He looked 
 Jerry straight in the eye for a second and then said: 
 
 "You are right, I don't count. I don't belong here. 
 But I'm not going to stay, you know. I thought you 
 ought to like a little good pitching, or I'd not have done 
 it. You see I thought you would be entertained, that's 
 all." 
 
 "Just like you," said Jerry, "you're a sissy " 
 
 He didn't get any further. Will's position shifted 
 in a flash, he was holding Jerry by both arms. "That 
 doesn't go, you know," he said quietly in a shaking voice. 
 "Really, you don't know me, or you wouldn't talk like 
 that." 
 
 17
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 Jerry jerked away from him, and quickly picked up 
 a piece of wood and put it on his shoulder. "All right, 
 knock it off," he said; "show me you're no sissy." Will 
 struck the bit of wood from Jerry's shoulder before the 
 words were cold. 
 
 "I suppose that means fight," said Will. "It used 
 to when I was smaller." 
 
 "You're right about that," returned Jerry. "We 
 don't put chips on our shoulders for fun. It's fight. 
 You'll be sorry, though." 
 
 Will walked up and pushed his face close up to 
 Jerry's. 
 
 "But, listen," he said, "you'll not call me sissy again 
 not until you've beaten me in a fair fight." 
 
 "No, course not," answered Jerry. "There's rules 
 in fighting, you know. I said what you are, and once is 
 enough. You can prove you're not if you've got spunk." 
 
 Will turned to me and said: "You and the boys fix 
 it, Hawkins buy some boxing gloves." 
 
 "We've got the gloves," said Bill Darby. 
 
 "All right, then, whenever you say I'll be ready," 
 said Will. "There's no use of being on the outs, as you 
 boys call it. Let's make an appointment for this fight, 
 and then go ahead and enjoy ourselves till the time of 
 the fight." 
 
 "Suits me," sang out Jerry; "that suits me fine, 
 Will." 
 
 It surprised me to see Jerry in such good humor 
 now. It seemed that all he cared lor was to get a promise 
 out of Will Standish to fight him. But I was yet to 
 learn that my boys had been doing things on their own 
 account while I was away. 
 
 The next afternoon was the time set. When I ar- 
 18
 
 A BOXING MATCH 
 
 rived down at the clubhouse I was surprised to see 
 Roy Dobel drive up with his father's cart and horse. 
 What he was hauling was sawdust. He shouted "Hello !" 
 to me and jumped off the cart, and then, getting in 
 front of the horse, backed the cart around to the side 
 of the clubhouse, where the ground was level. Dick 
 Ferris was there, and Bill Darby, directing where the 
 sawdust was to be dumped, and while they were spread- 
 ing it over the ground Johnny McLarren came running 
 out of the clubhouse with a bundle of sticks and rope. 
 I sat down on the steps and watched. In a few minutes 
 they had the four sticks set up in holes, and were sliding 
 the ropes through the holes in the sticks. I saw at once 
 that they were making a stage for a boxing show. I 
 was greatly pleased, too, for I knew my boys had been 
 doing some good training while I was in Cuba. But, 
 from the remarks of the boys as they worked on the 
 ropes, I began to gather that Jerry had been training 
 in boxing all winter, and that he had become a very 
 clever boxer. That worried me a little. I felt for Will, 
 whom I had never seen fight. But it was too late now; 
 the date was set, the boys had agreed. 
 
 The boys were all feeling fine when they gathered 
 for the regular meeting. Hardly a word was said, but 
 what they all had to laugh and joke, even Jerry talking 
 to Will Standish as though nothing had happened be- 
 tween them. I wondered to myself if Jerry didn't pull 
 this stunt just to show up Will Standish, or rather to 
 show off himself and what he had learned about boxing. 
 Anyway, Dick Ferris asked Will if he knew the rules of 
 boxing, and Will just nodded and smiled. I thought to 
 myself, Will Standish is going to fight fair, and that is 
 his one rule. If you fight fair you know all the rules. 
 
 At two o'clock we gathered on the side of the club- 
 19
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 house, where the sawdust ring had been put up. Jerry 
 wore his swimming shirt without sleeves and a pair of 
 dark blue swimming trunks. He wore rubber-soled 
 slippers. When Will Standish came out of the club- 
 house he wore a bathing suit of blue and white stripes 
 and a pair of tennis shoes. Bill Darby helped Jerry on 
 with his gloves, while Dick Ferris helped Will. I never 
 saw a bunch of boys pull off a fight like this. It was all 
 so real, as if this thing had been thought out before, 
 and I suppose if Will hadn't come back with me I would 
 have been the one to fight Jerry instead. I believed now 
 that these boys had planned to have a regular fight, 
 and here it was. 
 
 Johnny McLarren stood over in the ring to see that 
 the fight was fair. Dick was over in Will's corner, and 
 Bill Darby over in Jerry*s corner. Johnny struck a 
 bell, and the fight was on. 
 
 The two boys jumped to their feet at the same time 
 and stood watching each other. Will seemed a bit 
 green. He held his gloves up as if he were waiting to 
 turn aside any blow, but Jerry's arms were going like 
 windmills, as though he were warming up to give a 
 mighty punch. I had to laugh, but I stopped short 
 when I saw Jerry's right arm shoot out and catch Will 
 Standish on the neck. Will had tried to duck it, but 
 too late. Jerry sprang back against his ropes as if he 
 expected Will to come and pay him back that blow, but 
 Will stood still. Jerry danced round as if he was aching 
 to get another lick, but didn't care to get too close. 
 Then he took courage. 
 
 Yeah, I said, then he took his courage and he took 
 it all. He seemed to believe that Will Standish was 
 never going to light in on him. He thought all it took 
 was for Jerry Moore to go straight over and pound 
 
 20
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 away on Will Standish. And that might have been so, 
 but Will changed his mind about standing still just then, 
 and Jerry caught something on his chin. He went back- 
 ward quickly several steps and sat down. Will backed 
 over to his ropes and waited for Jerry to get up. Bill 
 Darby hurried over and helped Jerry to his feet. Jerry 
 rubbed his chin with the back of his glove and started out 
 to finish the fight. It doesn't hurt to start out to do any- 
 thing, even if you don't succeed. But Jerry's chin 
 ached a little, I guess, and he just set out to give Will 
 two licks for this one, and both were to be delivered on 
 the nose, I think. Anyway, that's where Jerry swung 
 to when he met Will in the middle of the sawdust, but 
 Will knew what Jerry was up to, and when the swing 
 came the head of Will bobbed like a cork on a fishing 
 line, and while Jerry was wondering where Will's head 
 went to so quick something shot up quickly between his 
 arms and landed again on the chin ouch! Jerry 
 growled, but braced himself after a step backward and 
 came again, his gloves beating down upon Will's head, 
 for Will had slipped and was on one knee. Bill Darby 
 and Dick Ferris helped Will up, and they were too close 
 to fight, and Jerry grabbed Will around the shoulders 
 and hung on for dear life. Will broke away and threw 
 Jerry back, and then it seemed as if Will had gotten 
 his stride, for he sang out: "Come, come on, now!" 
 and he went for Jerry with right and left, but Johnny 
 McLarren decided that the round had gone long enough, 
 and struck the bell again, and hollered "Time!" 
 
 They didn't time the round. But it didn't make 
 any difference about that part of the rule. When the 
 bell sounded again Jerry hollered, "Aw, for heaven's 
 sake, give a fella' time to get his breath." Then they 
 
 22
 
 A BOXING MATCH 
 
 had to make it a little longer, but Jerry was ready when 
 the next bell came. 
 
 But Will was on his feet sooner. He was in the 
 middle of the sawdust waiting. And Jerry came with 
 his arms going like a choo-choo train drive. I thought 
 if Jerry would only save all that energy and put it in 
 one good punch he might do something. But Will gave 
 him a merry chase. Whenever Jerry struck Will ducked, 
 and then he would call out "Strike one! Strike two!" 
 and so on. Jerry was getting very sore. Will's tennis 
 shoes must have been slippery, for he went down again 
 on one knee, and Jerry caught him full along the side of 
 the head a good punch, and Will fell over on his side. 
 But, up again in an instant, he came right back for Jerry, 
 and 
 
 Well, I didn't see that last punch. It was too quick. 
 How Will ever got under those ever-moving arms of 
 Jerry's and gave him that last crack I'm not able to 
 tell you. But there was Jerry sitting on the floor, 
 pulling off his gloves, while Will Standish stood over on 
 his side, leaning against the ropes, breathing hard, but 
 smiling down at the sitting Jerry. 
 
 "You're all right, Will," said Jerry; "I didn't think 
 you had it in you." 
 
 Will helped Jerry up and they shook hands. "Well," 
 I said to myself, "now that's settled."
 
 Ill 
 Harkinson 
 
 THINGS were moving fine now. Ever since that 
 boxing match Jerry had a great respect for Will 
 Standish. In fact, they became fast friends. Jerry 
 begged Will to teach him how to throw curves, and, 
 although Will tried to show him how it was done, Jerry 
 could not get the hang of it. I guess a good baseball 
 player has to be born a pitcher or a batter; if it isn't 
 in a fellow he never can learn how. I noticed during 
 several games we had later that although Jerry tried 
 to pitch and to use the same curves that Will had, he 
 never succeeded. When Jerry pitched, the boys pasted 
 the ball right and left, and the fellows who were doing 
 the fielding were kept so busy that they finally yelled 
 to take Jerry out, so they wouldn't have to chase so 
 many batted balls. 
 
 These were great vacation days for us. The old 
 swimming hole looked the same as it did in years gone 
 by, and we took a swim every day, usually before noon. 
 The willows hang over the river at the old swimming 
 hole, and it is cool and shady. Will Standish thought 
 this was the greatest treat he ever had. I guess the 
 poor kid never had an old rough swimming hole like 
 ours, and it did him good to get so close to nature. 
 
 On the morning following the boxing match I was 
 sitting alone in the little office when Perry popped in. 
 
 "Morning, sir," he said with a grin. "Go right 
 ahead with your writing; I don't mean to bother you 
 at all, sir. Just wanted to say hello." 
 
 24
 
 HARKINSON 
 
 I smiled and said: 
 
 "You never bother me, Perry. I haven't seen much 
 of you since I came back. Come in and sit down." 
 
 "Oh, no, sir," he said, "the boys wouldn't like it. 
 They don't like it at all, Hawkins. I'm just overseer, 
 you see." 
 
 "So the Captain told me," I said to him; "but that 
 doesn't hinder you from sitting down a while and 
 talking, does it?" 
 
 Perry smiled. "They think so," he said. "You 
 know they didn't want me in the clubhouse at all, 
 sir. But I begged 'em to let me stay around and 
 promised to keep things clean for 'em, and to look after 
 the clubhouse." 
 
 "So they made a bargain with you?" 
 
 "That's the way it looks, sir I mean Hawkins." 
 
 "Listen," I said: "Don't say 'sir' to me or anyone 
 around this clubhouse, Perry. Where did you get that 
 habit?" 
 
 "My daddy, sir Hawkins, I mean," he answered; 
 "it's a habit, to be sure." 
 
 "What does your daddy do?" 
 
 "He is the butler up at Judge Granbery's," replied 
 Perry. "I guess the boys think it isn't just nice to have 
 a butler's son in the club, sir; but, all the same, my 
 daddy's a fine man. I'm proud of him as you are of 
 your'n or any of the other boys." 
 
 I stood up and walked over to Perry. 
 
 "Shake," I said, holding out my hand. "I'm proud 
 to hear you talk that way. Stick up for your daddy, 
 Perry, no matter what kind of work he does." 
 
 Perry Stokes shook my hand warmly and smiled 
 up at me. "Thanks," he said. "You are different than 
 other boys. Why can't they all see things that way?" 
 
 25
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "Perry," I said, "if every person in this world saw 
 things the same as his next-door neighbor, we'd never 
 get anywhere. If everybody thought the same thing 
 and believed the same thing, we would never have seen 
 an automobile or an airplane, or anything like that. 
 Because most of the people believed it couldn't be done. 
 Only because a few others thought it could be done and 
 went ahead and tried it we have all the things to-day 
 that make life as wonderful as it is. You can see the 
 point, can't you?" 
 
 Perry looked at me with big eyes and open 
 mouth. 
 
 "Great Jerusalem!" he exclaimed. "You're smart, 
 you are, Hawkins." 
 
 I laughed at him. "Forget it," I said. "I've been 
 doing some thinking, that's all, Perry. When I went 
 across the water in that big .ship I began to wonder how 
 any man could figure out how to make so much iron 
 float. I would have believed it could not have been done. 
 And if it had depended upon me there would have 
 been no ships like that. But the man who figured it out 
 thought different. That's just it. Everybody doesn't 
 think in the same way. Just so with the boys here. 
 They've all got ideas of their own. But they'll change. 
 You just wait and see." 
 
 Perry had a happy look as he said : 
 
 "I wish they were all like you, sir." 
 
 "Didn't I tell you to forget that 'sir' when you 
 talk to me? Don't do it, Perry. You're not any 
 different." 
 
 He shook his head. "I guess I am, though," he said 
 sadly. "I catch it from all sides. Dick Ferris gave 
 me the dickens for letting Briggen and some of his Pel- 
 hams get into the clubhouse one night. But I couldn't 
 
 26
 
 HARKINSON 
 
 stay down here all night, could I? No, sir. And they 
 came while I was home sleeping and took a pair of 
 brand-new canoe paddles that belonged to Bill Darby. 
 Then the next day when I came down they said I was 
 standing in with the Pelham gang." 
 
 "I'm sorry to hear that, Perry," I said; "but I'll 
 look into it and stop it for you. You shall be a member 
 of the club if I have anything to say about it." 
 
 "I'll thank you, sure," he said. "You sure are good 
 to me you and Jerry Moore; the others are different." 
 
 At that moment something caught my eye through 
 the window, a figure coming through the tall grass on 
 the hilly ground behind the clubhouse. The next 
 instant 
 
 "Good night!" I said. "Who is that?" 
 
 A big overgrown, raggedy, brown-faced boy stood 
 with his arms akimbo looking down at the clubhouse 
 from the rise of ground. On account of the curtains 
 with which the boys had dressed my window, he could 
 not see us, although he was plainly visible to us. 
 
 "It's Harkinson," whispered Perry; "he's looking 
 for me, sir." 
 
 "Who is he?" I asked. "Who's this Harkinson, 
 Perry?" 
 
 "The new Pelham fellow," he replied in a low voice. 
 "I chased him away from here the first day I came. 
 He wouldn't go, and I threw my stick at him and it 
 hit him, and now he's always looking for me." 
 
 "What did you do when your stick hit him?" 
 
 "I ran, sir. There's no good of staying when a 
 fellow's after you, sir." 
 
 "For heaven's sake, drop the 'sir,' Perry, when you 
 talk to me. You're right : there's no use staying when a 
 fellow's after you. And he's coming, too. If he's after 
 
 27
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 you I suppose you better beat it while you've got the 
 chance, and let me take care of him." 
 
 Perry did not wait to say more, but slipped out of 
 the room and was gone. About two minutes later I 
 heard a step on the porch. I waited there in my little 
 office, not making a sound. I heard the shuffle of feet 
 in the clubroom as the newcomer slowly took his time 
 investigating the place. He muttered something to 
 himself once or twice, and I heard him fooling around 
 Lew Hunter's organ, until he must have touched a 
 key and it gave out a note that perhaps frightened him, 
 for I heard him moving away from it. Then his steps 
 moved to the cupboard, and I heard the squeak of the 
 hinges as he opened the cupboard door. He rum- 
 maged through it, judging from the sounds, and when I 
 began to wonder if I had not better go out and see 
 what he was about, the curtains parted and he stood 
 before me. 
 
 "Good morning," I said. "Is this just a little friendly 
 call or have you business here?" 
 
 He looked surprised. I suppose he thought no one 
 was in the clubhouse. But he held something in his 
 right arm that caught my eye, and I knew it had no 
 right to be in the arms of a fellow named Harkinson 
 when it belonged to a fellow named Bill Darby. 
 
 "No," I said, before he had time to answer me, 
 "that rifle is not for sale. Bill Darby got it from me 
 for a present, and I got it from a boy named Larry 
 King for a present; but as far as presents go, it's not 
 going to be used for that purpose any more only for 
 shooting rabbits in the wintertime by us boys." 
 
 I stood up and reached over and took the gun out 
 of his arms before he had time to know what I was 
 about to do. He had a bad look, this Harkinson. In 
 
 28
 
 H ARKINSON 
 
 all my time I had never seen a Pelham fellow with a 
 tough face such as this, nor as big a head, or as broad 
 shoulders. He grunted and muttered something in such a 
 low voice that I could not catch the words. He leaned 
 over the desk and pushed his face close to mine, looking 
 steadily in my eyes, as though he wished to impress my 
 face upon his memory he did not want to forget me. 
 Then his lips curled downward, and, with a sour smile 
 upon his tough face, Harkinson turned and walked 
 out of my office. I listened until his footsteps died out 
 on the path and then I looked at Bill Darby's gun and 
 smiled. Harkinson, whatever he was, did not seem to 
 worry much. He came to take something, I suppose, 
 if he could have gotten away with it, but after finding 
 that it might cause an argument he went away without 
 it. "Belongs to Pelham," I said to myself, "and all 
 Pelhams are alike. Birds of a feather, all of 'em." 
 
 I set the gun against the wall and continued my 
 writing. 
 
 I heard the voices of our boys down by the swim- 
 ming pool as I left the clubhouse and started down the 
 path. From the bushes behind the clubhouse Perry 
 Stokes ran to meet me. "Is he gone, sir?" he asked. 
 
 I didn't have time to answer him. I heard a yell 
 one of those Indian yells the Pelhams used to scare us 
 with and I turned quickly. 
 
 "Where?' I asked. "Where did that yell come 
 from, Perry?" 
 
 But Perry had turned before I had spoken and was 
 running as fast as his legs would take him. It sort o' 
 spoiled my opinion of Perry. I had thought he was 
 game, from the looks of him. Now, as I saw him scamper 
 off, I felt myself looking at him through different eyes. 
 
 29
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "Yellow," I said. But before long I was to see how 
 badly mistaken I was. 
 
 The whole crowd from the river had come running 
 at the sound of that yell. Bill Darby and Jerry Moore 
 led the crowd as they came. "It's Harkinson!" shcuted 
 Bill to me. "Harkinson's got Will Standish upon the 
 cliff. Get to him, Hawkins, hurry." 
 
 I needed no urging to get to him as soon as I knew. 
 Will Standish how came he to be up on the cliff? 
 We raced there together, the whole bunch of us. Ah, 
 how I thought as I ran up that cliff path, of the many 
 times we had hurried up the same stones in days past, 
 during those stormy times when Stoner's Boy led us a 
 merry chase. When we were half way up I heard again 
 that yell that Indian shout, that Pelham trademark. 
 And then we saw. 
 
 Link Lambert, the Skinny Guy, lay upon his face 
 on top of the cliff. My heart gave a terrible leap when 
 I looked farther and saw Will Standish hanging by his 
 hands from the edge of the cliff, and the clumsy figure 
 of Harkinson on his knees looking over and taunting 
 him as he hung there. Harkinson held a stick in his 
 hands. 
 
 "See how good ye can jump," he was saying, as we 
 came up. "It's only thirty feet to the water, buddy, 
 and it'll do ye good to take a plunge. Go ahead!" 
 
 Will Standish turned a white, pleading face up to 
 his tormentor, and struggled to lift himself from his 
 dangerous position. As he did so Harkinson moved 
 back and raised the stick. 
 
 "Oh, ye won't do it, eh?" he sneered in his deep voice. 
 "Then I'll have to hammer your grip loose." 
 
 He raised his stick to strike the hands of Will Standish 
 as he hung there. Now, mind you, this all happened as 
 
 30
 
 -Awt7 Ttert WE SAW LEAP 
 
 THE T5DC& ?
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 
 
 we were coming up the path. My heart, I say, was in 
 my "mouth. I feared the big tough Harkinson would 
 bring his stick down upon those slender fingers and 
 make Will drop. I knew Will could stand a plunge, 
 even from thirty feet, if he were sure to land in deep 
 water, but you never can tell what danger lies below. 
 I know these old cliffs and this eld river. And I ran 
 faster so that I drew ahead of the boys that were run- 
 ning with me. I shouted at Harkinson. He started to 
 turn his head toward me. 
 
 I say he started. He didn't finish the movement, 
 because something came hurtling through the air a stick 
 about the size of a cane, and it struck the clumsy Har- 
 kinson on the back of the head. He jumped up as 
 though a bee stung him. One glance he turned toward 
 us just one quick look and then we saw him leap 
 clear of the rock clear over the hanging figure of Will 
 Standish, and down, down, disappearing over the edge 
 of the cliff. 
 
 Perry Stokes it was who came running from his hiding 
 place. "Did I hit him?" he called. "I was so excited 
 I couldn't aim my cane straight." 
 
 "You hit him, all right, Perry," I said, as we bent to 
 lift Will back over the rock. "Good Lord, Will, bow 
 in the world did it happen?" 
 
 "Link took me to see the caves, and we were coming 
 back," he said, panting hard for his breath, "and we 
 ran into this." He pointed to a contraption that was 
 fixed to a dead tree. "You see it works as a spring. 
 A loop is supposed to catch you as you step on this 
 stone and release the spring. But Link was on that 
 side and stepped back when he felt the stone move. 
 It struck him on the head and he bolted me, and we 
 rolled over together. When I tried to rise, that big 
 
 32
 
 HARKINSON 
 
 . 
 
 strange fellow was on my neck, rolling me over to the 
 edge, saying he thought a little splash would do me 
 good. My word, but he gave me a jolly good fight 
 there on the edge until my footing let go and I had to 
 grab the edge. You boys came up just in time. How's 
 Link?" 
 
 "All right," said Link, as he sat up, rubbing a big 
 lump on his head. "By golly, Hawkins, it knocked me 
 out, didn't it?" 
 
 "Put you to sleep, all right," I laughed. "I guess 
 we would have been safer if we had stayed in Cuba, 
 Link, eh, what?" 
 
 Link was smiling. He gave me a look that I under- 
 stood. 
 
 "Cuba was never like this," he said. "You get 
 your money's worth here in Kentucky." 
 
 "Excitement? Yes," I said. 
 
 Well, it was the first real bit of excitement we had 
 had since our return. But it made me think a heap more 
 of one person in the club, namely one overseer who 
 said "sir" to me all the time. You know who I mean. 
 
 Harkinson was out of the river and running up the 
 Pelham bank by the time we started down the path. 
 "I've got to keep my eyes open for that fellow," I said 
 to myself, "if he can take leaps like that and get away 
 with it. Harkinson is not a fellow to fool with." 
 
 38
 
 IV 
 
 The Camp On the Island 
 
 "^VT"ES, Hawkins, I'm going to get even with 
 
 Y him." 
 
 -- It was Will Standish speaking to me, and he 
 meant that fellow Harkinson, who tried to make him 
 leap into the river from the cliff. 
 
 "Better pass it up, Will," I said. "He didn't suc- 
 ceed in making you take the plunge. As it was, he had 
 to leap into the river himself to escape from us." 
 
 Will shook his head. "Makes no difference about 
 that," he said. "I would have gone over the cliff if 
 you boys hadn't come up in time. And, what's more, 
 he would have beat my fingers with his club to make 
 me let go my bold. That very intention he had is what 
 made me sore. I've a good notion to take him up there 
 and give him the same kind of treatment he gave 
 me." 
 
 I smiled as I glanced at Will's slender fingers and 
 thought of Harkinson. 
 
 "He's a great big customer for you to deal with, 
 Will," I said; "you had better think it over. Remember 
 the big head and shoulders that belong to this Har- 
 kinson. It wouldn't be an easy task for you to get him 
 up there on the cliff and make him hang from his fingers." 
 
 Will smiled hack at me. "It isn't always how strong 
 you are that counts," he said, "and the swiftest person 
 doesn't always win a race: remember that, Hawkins, 
 old boy. Leave this whole thing to me. See if I don't 
 make Harkinson swallow his own medicine." 
 
 84
 
 THE CAMP ON THE ISLAND 
 
 I waved my hands and said: 
 
 "All right, just as you will have it. I'd like to save 
 you from harm, though." 
 
 "And it may come to such a pass that I'll have to 
 ask you to help me," he said; "but I don't think so. 
 Harkinson has great strength, Hawkins, but he doesn't 
 think. He hasn't much sense. I think I'll pull him 
 down easy." 
 
 "Good luck be with you," I said, and I turned back 
 to my desk as Will went out. I felt very uneasy. I 
 had hoped that Will would forget about the trick that 
 Harkinson had played, and that we would steer clear 
 of all trouble from now on. But I could see more 
 trouble looming ahead now. Yet I could not say I 
 feared for Will Standish. All that I had seen of this 
 light-hearted English boy led me to believe that Tie 
 could take care of himself in anything. But the big 
 bulk of Harkinson made me feel uneasy. Not only 
 his size and strength, but the fact that he was a Pelham, 
 and the Pelhams are tricky, unfair fellows to deal with. 
 I felt just as Will did about getting even with the big 
 bully, but I am not one who goes around hunting 
 trouble. I always let trouble come to me first, and then 
 I try to tackle it as best I know how. However, I guess 
 all boys can't be alike. 
 
 Link Lambert overslept himself that morning and came 
 down to the clubhouse very late, long after our meeting 
 was over, and all the other boys down on the river in their 
 canoes. But the Skinny Guy had a smile when he 
 came in. I said: "Hello, Link, you're late," and kept 
 on writing in my new book. 
 
 He sat down opposite my desk and watched me 
 write, as though he did not want to talk and bother me. 
 But his silence got on my nerves finally. I looked up. 
 
 35
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "Well," I said, "y u had better stayed in bed. 
 You're sound asleep, I think." 
 
 "Not much," he grinned, rubbing his eyes; "I'm 
 just quiet; I don't want to butt in while you're working. 
 I'll wait till you're finished." 
 
 "I'm finished whenever you're ready to talk," I 
 said, laying down my pen. "There's something on your 
 mind, Link. I know you like a book. Let's have it 
 out right away." 
 
 "I want to ask you if you'd care," said Link, "if 
 we boys would put up a tent and camp out for a few 
 days." 
 
 "Care!" I exclaimed. "As if I had any right to 
 stop you. But Link, where'd we get the tent? There's 
 not enough money left in our tin can to buy a second- 
 hand haircut. The boys spent every cent for flags and 
 fireworks." 
 
 "I know," said Link, "but my daddy promised me 
 one, and it's just arrived from Watertown. He says 
 we can camp out if you say so." 
 
 "Fine, Link," I said; "your dad's a real fellow. Can 
 we get the tent right away?" 
 
 "Sure. It's up in Doc Waters's office waiting for us. 
 Suppose we take it down to Seven Willows Island. You 
 know we had a lot of fun there last summer." 
 
 I frowned. We had a lot of fun there, yes; but we 
 had a lot of trouble and scares there, too. But Link 
 saw what was passing through my mind. 
 
 "It's all right," he said. "We are bigger than we 
 were last year. We won't be so easily frightened, 
 Hawkins. I think we ought to be able to take care of 
 ourselves." 
 
 "All right," I said, "go down and tell the boys. 
 Have them go with you and fetch the tent, and we had 
 
 36
 
 THE CAMP ON THE ISLAND 
 
 better take some things along. Get some pots and 
 pans and something to cook. Also all the baseball 
 things, and don't forget the fishing tackle. You'll 
 find mine put away hi Doc Waters's tin box. Ask Doc 
 if he will let you have that shotgun we took away 
 from Rufe Rogers." 
 
 It was about an hour later when I finished my 
 writing and put my pen and ink away and locked my 
 desk. I put on my hat and went out onto the porch, 
 locking the door, and as I did so Link came up the river 
 path. 
 
 "Everything's ready, Hawkins," he said. "I was 
 just coming to get you. We're ready to start for the 
 island." 
 
 "How about Doc Waters? Is he going along?" 
 
 "No, he said he would tell your daddy where you 
 are going, and it will be all right. He's fixing it for the 
 other fellows, too." 
 
 We walked down to the river. A half dozen canoes 
 were being paddled around, each one filled with camp- 
 ing things. The boys hailed us when we came in sight, 
 and I could see they were all as happy as humming 
 birds. In the long, green canoe which belonged to 
 Jerry Moore, and which was the roomiest of all, was 
 packed the white duck which was to make the tent, 
 while floating behind it in the water, tied to the canoe 
 with ropes, were the tent poles. Jerry and Bill Darby 
 had very little room in which to sit and paddle the long 
 boat, but they managed a hard job in the best possible 
 manner. I got in a canoe which Dick Ferris paddled, 
 and Link went in Johnny McLarren's, and then I 
 shouted to Lew Hunter and little Frankie Kane, who 
 
 37
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 sat in the first canoe, to start ahead, and away we all 
 went to the island. 
 
 "Where's Will Standish, Dick?" I asked as we pad- 
 dled along. 
 
 "He's been gone all morning," said Dick. "Perry 
 Stokes went with him. Perry asked to go." 
 
 "Ah," I said, and then I fell silent, thinking it over. 
 What scheme had Will in his mind now, taking Perry 
 along with him, I thought to myself. Surely it can be 
 nothing but a plan to catch that bully, Harkinson, as 
 Will had told me he would do. But think as I would 
 I could not figure out just how Will intended to do it. 
 Perhaps Perry, who knew more of Harkinson's habits, 
 would be able to hunt him down, and then leave it to Will 
 to do the rest. If both Will and Perry were after him 
 I knew sure that Harkinson was bound to get what 
 was coming to him. 
 
 "Do you think one of us should wait here with a 
 canoe for Will and Perry?" asked Dick. "No," I said, 
 "Doc Waters knows where we are. He will tell Will. 
 Anyway, we will have to return before dark, as we 
 haven't anything to make beds with, and it won't do 
 for us to sleep on the ground without blankets." 
 
 We paddled down to the island in about twenty 
 minutes. It was a great treat for the boys to make a 
 camp. How they hustled in unpacking the loads and 
 clearing a space for the tent. They seemed to have 
 brought everything that was needed, too. While some 
 of them were cutting away the high grass and weeds 
 where the tent was to be pitched, the others were open- 
 ing the packs, spreading the canvas in the sun, digging 
 holes for the tent poles, and getting the stakes and 
 ropes ready to hoist the tent. It made me feel good to 
 see them work like that. I helped all I could, but I 
 
 38
 
 THE CAMP ON THE ISLAND 
 
 don't count much when it comes to work of that kind. 
 They don't seem to want me to do any of that kind of 
 work, either. They have always had me for their Seck- 
 atary, and from what they told me when I came back 
 from Cuba, I was to be their Seckatary forever, and I 
 guess they think that I am doing my share when I do 
 the Seckatary work, although anybody could do it if 
 he knows how to hold a pen and write plain. 
 
 Just as Dick gave the word to "Pull away" on the 
 ropes and the tent came up to the top of the poles, I 
 saw a skiff coming toward the shore. It wasn't the skiff 
 that caught my eye as much as the fellow who rowed 
 it. It was Harkinson ! He rowed swiftly, and soon the 
 nose of the skiff shoved itself into the muddy bank, 
 and he dropped the oars in the locks and sprang upon 
 the bank. The boys had not seen him, they were so 
 interested in rigging up the tent, and they went right 
 ahead fastening the ropes to the stakes. 
 
 "What you call this?" yelled Harkinson, gazing 
 upon us with an angry face. The boys all turned 
 quickly and saw Harkinson. 
 
 "What do you think it looks like?" I answered, 
 looking just as angry as he did. "This is a tent, and we 
 intend to camp here for a few days." 
 
 "Oh, do you?" sneered Harkinson, hi a rough voice. 
 "Well, let me tell you this island is tooken; it belongs 
 to the Pelham boys this season, being as we were the 
 first to come. We got our camp up the other end o' 
 this island, and we don't want no neighbors. See? 
 You guys will make us very happy by pulling up your 
 stakes and beating it back to where you come from. 
 If you ain't gone by to-morrow well, you'd better 
 be, that's all." 
 
 He said no more; turned, rushed back into his skiff, 
 39
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 and was off up the river as fast as his oars would take 
 him. The boys stared at him, not knowing whether 
 to do as he said or not. "Go ahead with the work, 
 boys," I said. "That bully can't frighten us away. 
 We know the Pelham fellows. They were the same last 
 year. Dick, you stay here and see that the tent is 
 finished and fastened down tight. Then you better 
 take everything else back with you when you come home. 
 I'll take Lew Hunter along with me and we will follow 
 this Harkinson to see what mischief he might be up to." 
 
 Lew jumped into the canoe with me, and I waited 
 and watched through the bushes until I had seen the 
 skiff turn the upper bend of the river. Then we started 
 paddling slowly, as I did not want to get too close to 
 Harkinson, or have him think he was being followed. 
 He faced us as he rowed the skiff, but he did not seem 
 to watch us particularly. I supposed he just imagined 
 we were coming back because he had told us to clear 
 off the island. But when we turned the bend and first 
 came into view of the skiff he seemed not to notice us 
 at all. Lew Hunter said he thought Harkinson was 
 going back to get the Pelham fellows to chase us off the 
 island. Then all of a sudden 
 
 But wait, I'm going too fast. We had paddled 
 almost up to our landing place at the home bank, when 
 Lew, who was paddling in front suddenly stopped and 
 exclaimed: 
 
 "Good Lord, where did he go?" 
 
 I quickly turned my gaze upon the skiff ahead of us. 
 It was empty. The oars were lying idle in the oar- 
 locks and the skiff was drifting out into the current. 
 We were just passing the cliffs, and our canoe was close 
 to the rocky sides. I heard a shout from the top of the 
 cliff, and we both looked up together. Two heads were 
 
 40
 
 THE CAMP ON THE ISLAND 
 
 peeping over the edge of the cliff. One 
 was Will Standish and the other Perry 
 Stokes/ But the strangest sight of all 
 was Harkinson. Guess where he was? 
 Hanging like a doll baby on a Christ- 
 mas tree hanging from a rope that 
 came over the edge of the cliff and 
 caught him around the chest, fasten- 
 ing his arms to his sides at the elbows. 
 Will Standish was laughing, and Perry 
 Stokes was shouting something down 
 to us but I didn't listen. I was only 
 worried about Harkinson. Suppose 
 that rope should slip up and catch 
 around his neck and choke him ! But 
 Harkinson, although he must have 
 been surprised when the loop fell 
 around him and yanked him out of 
 his skiff, was working furiously to 
 get free from his 
 bonds, and succeed- 
 ed in getting one 
 arm out, and then 
 the boys up on top 
 began to pull him 
 up but it was too 
 late; they had let 
 the fish nibble too 
 long, and they lost 
 it. For Harkinson 
 snatched something 
 bright from his belt, 
 shining knife, and with his one loose 
 arm he slashed at the rope. It only 
 
 41 
 
 I saw it was a
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 took a second, and it happened too quickly for all 
 of us. The only thing I can remember now is the 
 loud splash as Harkinson came falling plump into the 
 river not five feet from our canoe. Oh, boy! how 
 Lew and I worked to keep the canoe right side up 
 in all that churning water! Harkinson disappeared 
 under the water like a lump of lead, and we waited 
 anxiously for him to come up, but we were fooled, for 
 he must have swum at least fifty feet upstream before 
 his head came bobbing up. He lifted himself clear of 
 the water for a second and shook his fist at the two 
 boys on top of the cliff, then he swam a bit further and 
 climbed out onto the shore. In two shakes of a rabbit's 
 tail he was gone through the green bushes on the Pel- 
 ham side. 
 
 We waited there for Will and Perry, and they came 
 down in a few minutes, laughing and happy. "I told 
 you I'd get even with him," said Will to me. "Yes," I 
 said, "but one dive more or less don't mean anything to 
 Harkinson. He seems to like high dives into the water, 
 Will. But I believe you have just made matters worse. 
 You'd better look out for his next move now. Har- 
 kinson is a pretty tough customer." 
 
 Will laughed. "Oh, all right, Hawkins," he said, 
 "you don't think I am equal to him, I suppose. But he 
 only tricked me the day I wasn't looking for anything 
 of that kind. Let him try another stunt like that. If 
 I get licked then, why I'll admit he's too much for 
 me." 
 
 Somehow I couldn't believe that Harkinson would 
 get the best of Will Standish any more. The way they 
 yanked the big Pelham fellow out of his skiff was a 
 clever thing. They had been watching there on the 
 cliff all day, Will and Perry, for just such a chance. 
 
 42
 
 THE CAMP ON THE ISLAND 
 
 They had seen Harkinson go down in his skiff, and were 
 ready with their loop when he came back. And Har- 
 kinson never will forget the jolt he got when he was 
 jerked up and his skiff drifted away from under him. 
 We all had a good laugh about it when the other 
 boys came back that evening.
 
 V 
 
 The Woodchoppers 
 
 WE HELD our meeting in the clubhouse early 
 next morning before going down to our camp 
 on the island. Doc Waters had promised us 
 blankets in which to sleep, and Johnny McLarren and 
 Bill Darby had gone for a basketful of canned goods and 
 provisions for our meals while we lived in the tent. 
 Lew Hunter had a big cardboard box under his arm 
 when he came into the clubhouse, and I asked him 
 what he was taking along to the island with him. 
 
 "Music," he said, smiling. "We've got to have some 
 singing. The preacher gave it to me for my birthday. 
 Want to see it?" 
 
 He quickly untied the string and took off the lid of 
 the box. It was a fancy accordion. 
 
 "Good night!" I said. "Nobody will get any sleep 
 in the camp as long as that doodlesack stays there." 
 
 "Why," he said, "music is good for you. I can play 
 it. Want to hear me?" 
 
 "No, thanks; not just now, Lew. We will try it 
 out down on the island. I didn't mean to say you 
 couldn't play it. But you know our fellows. As soon 
 as you lay that thing down one of the boys will be try- 
 ing it to see how it works. And what's worse than noise 
 from an instrument when it falls into the hands of a 
 fellow who doesn't know how to play it?" 
 
 "I'll take care of that," said Lew. 
 
 Doc Waters arrived with the blankets in his auto- 
 mobile, and we transferred them to the canoes. The 
 
 44
 
 THE WOODCHOPPERS 
 
 boys were anxious to be off, and so I told Lew Hunter 
 and Jerry Moore to boss the trip and start ahead of 
 me. "I will wait for Johnny and Bill," I said. 
 
 After they had gone Doc came into my little office 
 with me and sat down while I finished writing about 
 the meeting and checking up the dues. 
 
 "Are you coming along, Doc?" I asked. 
 
 "I guess not now, Hawkins," he said; "although the 
 Lord knows I'd like nothing better than to spend a 
 few days with you boys on the island. But I've got 
 some matters to attend to in town for Link's people. 
 I've just settled for the place down in Kentucky. I 
 guess you boys will say good-bye to Link pretty 
 soon." 
 
 I felt a lump rise in my throat when he said that. 
 I couldn't help it. I knew Link was no longer one of 
 us. He had much to do to make up for lost time, for 
 the days his daddy had let him wander around without 
 any schooling. His folks were rich now. Link simply 
 could not be one of us any longer. Gosh, how I wished 
 we could have stayed the same bunch of happy young- 
 sters that we were a couple of years ago! But then that 
 was selfish wishing, for in that case Link would not have 
 found his mother, nor would his mother have been 
 rescued from the sufferings she had been enduring for 
 so many years. 
 
 "Yep," I said, "I guess we will have to lose him, 
 Doc. But I hate to see him go. I've been with him so 
 long, Doc, that he is a sort of brother to me." 
 
 "But he won't be far away, and you can visit him," 
 said Doc; "in fact, I don't think Link will be able to 
 remain away from here very long. He will be popping 
 up here every once in a while. He has a sort of a restless 
 nature. He likes to wander. You will remember how 
 
 45
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 he was when you first met him always off somewhere 
 and gone for days at a time." 
 
 "I'd like to bring back the old days," I said dreamily, 
 looking up at the ceiling. 
 
 "I want you to go with him when they start for their 
 new home," said Doc, rising and putting on his hat. 
 "By the way, I received a fine letter from Uncle Lucio. 
 He sends you his love." 
 
 "Dear old Lucio," I smiled. "Lord, how I liked that 
 man, Doc. Write to him that I want to see him up here 
 soon. Tell him we will show him a fine time." 
 
 "Good-by," said Doc. "I'll write that sure." Then, 
 turning, he said in a low tone: "About that camp: 
 You know I'll depend upon you to keep order." 
 
 I saluted him and answered: "Righto. Depend upon 
 me. I'll take the blame for anything that goes wrong. 
 I've got faith in my boys now, Doc, more than I ever 
 had before." 
 
 Doc nodded. "I can trust you, Hawkins," he said. 
 "You know that the parents of these youngsters all 
 blame me if anything goes wrong. I'm always the one 
 begging them to let the kids go and have a good time. 
 I guess I ought to have better sense." 
 
 I grasped Doc's hand. "You've been a prince to us, 
 Doc," I said warmly. "You're just the kind of a man 
 boys are looking for; but very few of them find one like 
 you." 
 
 Doc laughed his funny little laugh. "Same old 
 Hawkins," he said. "You like to jolly a person. Well, 
 I'll leave it to you. I want to see you boys have all the 
 fun you can while you are boys. I missed most of it 
 when I was a kid. So I'm getting my fun now with you 
 boys. I guess I'm just a boy myself; never will grow 
 up; and, what's more, if growing up means to keep 
 
 46
 
 THE WOODCHOPPERS 
 
 away from all these things that makes boys have a 
 good time, I don't want to grow up." 
 
 He walked quickly up the path toward the main 
 road. I watched him with a smile until the high grass 
 shut out the view. What a fine man old Doc Waters 
 was! Boys, I'll never forget Doc Waters, even if I 
 grow to be a wrinkled old man with a beard down to 
 my knees. 
 
 Now I went back into my little office and wished 
 Bill and Johnny would hurry and come soon. I admit 
 I was anxious to get to our camp. Not that I expected 
 to have such a fine time, but I did want to be near 
 them to see that nothing happened. The thought of 
 Harkinson came back to me so often that I grew nervous, 
 Harkinson had warned us Harkinson was a Pelham. 
 
 Just then I felt relieved, for I heard steps on the 
 porch and heard voices which I immediately took for 
 Bill and Johnny. "It's about time," I called out. 
 
 And then the curtains parted and I looked up. 
 Standing there was Harold Court and his brother 
 Oliver, the twins. 
 
 "Hawkins!" shouted Harold, "dear old Hawkins. 
 Well this is a surprise. Glad to see you, old boy," and 
 he clapped his left hand upon my shoulder and shook 
 my hand with his right. Oliver, too, came over quickly 
 and grabbed my hand, both of them talking at the 
 same time. 
 
 "Surprise?" I said. "You're not nearly so surprised 
 as I am. Where in the world did you twins come from? 
 I haven't seen you since last summer about this time. 
 You remember when Stoner's Boy was making it hot 
 for us around here?" 
 
 Harold laughed. "I'll never forget those days," he 
 said. "We were back here at Christmas, but you were 
 
 47
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 down in Cuba then. We missed you awfully on Christ- 
 mas Eve. It didn't seem like Christmas without 
 
 you." 
 
 "Thanks," I said; "but you can't imagine how lone- 
 some I was down there in Cuba on Christmas Eve. 
 I had to forget it was Christmas time; every time I 
 thought about it it made me blue." 
 
 "Well, we are glad to see you back with us," said 
 Oliver. "We thought we would surprise the boys this 
 year, and so we didn't let them know when we were 
 coming back. We went right to our uncle's home in 
 Philadelphia as soon as school let out, and we stayed 
 there till about a week ago. We stopped off at a few 
 places on our route and arrived home last night." 
 
 "Well," I said, "I'd been wondering about you, and 
 asked Dick Ferris, and he said you two were going to 
 spend the whole summer in Philadelphia. But I'm 
 glad you changed your minds." 
 
 "You know we couldn't stay away all summer," 
 said Harold. "What's new? Has anything ever been 
 heard of Stoner's Boy?" 
 
 I shook my head. "No," I said, slowly; "never since 
 he fell down the pit in the cave. We found the big 
 bat that caused him to fall. I suppose you heard how 
 it was killed by Robby Hood, a boy from Watertown 
 who used to come down here to play with us?" 
 
 "Yes," said Harold, "we heard about that. But I 
 suppose it is best for us now; it is not nice to have some- 
 body laying for the boys all the time." 
 
 I smiled. "Oh, I don't know," I said. "It gives the 
 boys something to think about. It keeps them out of 
 fighting amongst themselves. I wouldn't mind if some 
 other fellow took a notion to hit our trail. I think it's 
 sport in a way." 
 
 48
 
 THE WOODCHOPPERS 
 
 Harold sat down and leaned across the desk to- 
 ward me. 
 
 "Ah," he said, "I believe your trip to Cuba has made 
 you a bit reckless, Hawkins. But I think I can promise 
 you some sport, as you call it. We spent yesterday at 
 Watertown. Oliver insisted upon seeing the water 
 front down there, where we used to land on our trips 
 up from here. So we took a trip down there and stopped 
 in a little store on our way back to get a drink. While 
 we sat at a table we heard three boys talking at a table 
 next to us. They talked low, but I heard. And one of 
 them mentioned you. He called you 'that Hawkins 
 fella,' and he also spoke of a light-haired boy whose 
 name he didn't know. He said he would get you." 
 
 "What else did he say?" I asked. 
 
 "We paid our bill and left. I don't know whether 
 it means anything or not. The fellow who spoke your 
 name looked like a bad egg." 
 
 "What did he look like?" 
 
 "Oh, a peculiar-looking chap with long arms and a 
 big head " 
 
 "Harkinson," I said; "Harkinson it was. He has 
 been here once or twice. If you boys will come with 
 me I would like to take you to the island. We have 
 a camp there." 
 
 "Glad to go," said Harold. "I had a notion that you 
 had put up a tent around here some place." 
 
 So I did not wait for Bill and Johnny. We took one 
 of the canoes and started for the island. I had a worri- 
 some idea that Harkinson might be up to mischief, and 
 I was anxious to be with my boys at the camp. As we 
 went I related to the twins the experience we had had 
 with Harkinson.
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 What a pretty sight it was that little camp on the 
 south bank of the island. While the other boys were 
 greeting the twins, whom they had not seen for a long 
 time, I stood off a distance and gave it all the once over. 
 The white tent set in a clearing in the midst of green 
 trees and bushes was an inviting place; the canoes, 
 some moored to saplings and others upside down on 
 the bank; the little stove with its sorry-looking smoke- 
 stack, which sent a thin stream of smoke skyward; the 
 little square of silk with the stars and stripes flying from 
 the center pole, and over all the song of the million 
 birds that lived in the treetops roundabout. Yeah, this 
 was a fine place for vacation and a rest. 
 
 But shucks! The minute I think of rest the word 
 Pelham pops into my mind. How is anyone going to 
 have rest and quiet where Pelham fellows roam? Har- 
 kinson! Something about that fellow made me worry. 
 I did not trust him. 
 
 "Hawkins," sang out Jerry Moore, "are you going 
 to stand there dreaming all day? How about a game 
 of ball?" 
 
 I excused myself, but I told them to go ahead and 
 play. There was plenty of time till the lunch hour. 
 Harold came over to me as the other boys trotted away 
 with the balls and bats. 
 
 "Have you an idea?" he asked me. 
 
 "You mean about Harkinson?" 
 
 "Yes. He is here. You can bet your bottom dime 
 on that. Listen!" A distant sound came to our ears. 
 It was the sound of an ax falling upon wood. "Wood- 
 choppers," said Harold. 
 
 "It's Harkinson," said I. "Come on." 
 
 Together we threaded our way through the thick 
 wild growth and sped toward the sound of the wood- 
 
 50
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 chopping. The distance was greater than it seemed 
 when first we heard the sound. But at length we stopped 
 short and peered through the foliage. Pelham was 
 there not fifty feet from us all of Pelham as I knew 
 it before I left for Cuba. There was Briggen, the leader, 
 and Dave Burns and Ham Gardner, and all the others 
 of less importance, chopping, chopping. But not Har- 
 kinson! I quickly passed from one face to another, and 
 I felt relieved to know that Harkinson was not there. 
 Down came a medium-sized tree with a crash. The 
 choppers moved at once to another and began to chop. 
 The other Pelhams lifted the fallen tree and began to 
 strip it of its branches. Then I noticed something built 
 well back into the wildwood that had skipped my eye 
 a sort of fortress built of newly chopped logs a 
 stockade, as it were, like the old settlers used to build 
 to guard against the Indians. I noticed Harold sizing 
 up the fortress with as much interest as I had. Then 
 he whispered to me: 
 
 "The Pelhams intend to hold their own. They will 
 never be driven out of that stronghold. Oh, look, 
 Hawkins. There he is, by George!" 
 
 I had seen him. Even before Harold spoke I had 
 seen him. Harkinson had risen from behind the stockade 
 and was standing on top of the highest log. 
 
 "Git bigger trees," he shouted, pointing to the 
 choppers. "What you cutting the small ones for? 
 Git bigger trees." 
 
 That harsh voice! Those long arms that moved 
 like windmills! That big head topped with tangled 
 hair, set squarely upon those heavy shoulders, gave 
 Harkinson the appearance of a great monkey, and the 
 background of forest made it seem all the more so. 
 Something about him made me fear. I felt the same 
 
 52
 
 THE WOODC HOPPERS 
 
 trembling now as I felt that midnight in Cuba when 1 
 saw the greenish face of old Elam looking through my 
 window. 
 
 "Come," I whispered, taking Harold's arm. Silently 
 we slipped back to our camp and sat down by the side 
 of the river. 
 
 "Well," said Harold, "it's either go back at once or 
 stay here and fight the Pelhams. Do you think we had 
 better break camp, Hawkins, or would you wait and 
 see what happens?" 
 
 "You don't know me, Harold," I said. "There's 
 no going back in me. I'm for always going forward. 
 I'll stay. But I'm afraid of that Harkinson I'll admit 
 it to you." 
 
 Harold remained silent a while. Only the sound of 
 our boys playing ball a short distance away came to 
 our ears that and the chopping, and the occasional 
 fall of a tree in the other direction where the wood- 
 choppers were still at it. 
 
 "He's a big fellow, all right," said Harold; "but it 
 isn't his size that scares me. What is it, Hawkins?" 
 
 "I don't know," I said. "Perhaps we shall find out 
 soon enough." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 58
 
 VI 
 
 Singing by the Campfire 
 
 FOR two days we had rest and quiet in our camp 
 on the island. We did not move far from our 
 tent, only going to the clearing for our ball 
 games, and using a little pool nearby for our swimming. 
 Doc Waters came down the second day and umpired 
 a game of ball for us and helped Roy Dobel cook our 
 meals. Roy is the best cook in our club. He knows 
 how to make all kinds of meals. I suppose if we didn't 
 have Roy Dobel most of us would be pretty hungry 
 at times, for I don't think there is another boy in the 
 bunch who can do more than boil water. 
 
 Our boys did not go near the Pelham camp on the 
 north end of the island. I laid down the rules as soon 
 as I found out that the Pelhams were camped there. 
 I told them that the first boy who went away from our 
 camp without leave would be sent back home, and maybe 
 thrown out of the club altogether. It isn't nice to say 
 such things to boys like mine, but just think what 
 trouble they might have gotten into if they did wander 
 into the Pelham camp. Sometimes we must make rules 
 that seem awfully harsh because it is one way to keep 
 peace and happiness. Those rules which seem hardest 
 are always those which do the most good for us. 
 
 I never enjoyed a camp so much as I did this one. 
 The boys were all so jolly and full of fun, and Doc 
 Waters seemed like one of the boys, too. After supper 
 the first night Lew Hunter brought out his accordion 
 and began to play some tunes. At first, when the boys 
 
 54
 
 SINGING BY THE CAMPFIRE 
 
 saw him with that funny old music box, they laughed 
 and made fun of it. But Lew just smiled and took every- 
 thing good natured. And when he started to play say, 
 you just ought to have seen those fellows change their 
 mind. Lew is a born musician. I don't think there is 
 any kind of an instrument he can't play, unless it is a 
 horn. I never heard him play a trombone, nor a cornet, 
 nor a clarinet. But I think more of him for that, be- 
 cause I never thought much of such music, which 
 sounds more like noise to me. But here he was playing 
 an old accordion, and it sounded like an organ just as 
 soft and sweet. He struck up a few bars first just to 
 see how the old thing was tuned, I guess, and then, as 
 all the fellows stopped their laughing and it began to 
 be quiet, except for the noise of the frogs and the crickets, 
 Lew swung into the good old tune of " 'Way Down 
 Upon the Swanee River," and he played it soft and slow, 
 just as pretty as if he had practiced it for a month, which 
 I know he had not. The boys sat there, some with their 
 elbows on their knees and their chins in their hands, 
 looking at Lew as he worked the accordion back and 
 forth and made it produce such sweet music. Doc 
 Waters was sitting in the rear, with his knee clasped in 
 his folded hands, swinging back and forth in time to the 
 music and smiling as if it made him happy. I thought 
 then of the awful times Doc and I and Skinny Link bad 
 gone through just a couple of months ago, and I did not 
 wonder that the Swanee River song brought back to 
 mind how happy we all were to get back to our own 
 river again, with our own folks, and where we could live 
 in peace and safety. 
 
 Lew brought the song to an end with a crash of 
 harmony you know what I mean a lot of chords. 
 Lew knows how to do that to make it sound fine. I 
 
 55
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 think it brought the boys into a singing mood, for when 
 next he started playing, and it was "Old Kentucky 
 Home," all of the fellows began to sing. Say, if you 
 want to hear something fine, just listen to a bunch of 
 boys singing on a clear night in a woods somewhere. 
 And our boys know how to sing, thanks to the teaching 
 of Lew Hunter himself. He has them all separated 
 into sopranos, altos, tenors, and bass, and each boy knows 
 what part Lew wants him to sing. I remember when 
 Lew first began teaching our boys singing the fellows 
 didn't know what soprano or alto meant. So Lew just 
 called the sporano singers the "first part," and the alto 
 singers the "second part," and the others didn't come 
 in until later. Lew Hunter was the only tenor in our 
 crowd till Dick Ferris came back from the Pelham side, 
 and then Lew took him for a partner. And this night, 
 as we sat there singing "Old Kentucky Home," good 
 old Doc Waters joined in, and Doc's voice is as low as 
 any voice can be, so I know that's bass. So you can 
 imagine how fine it sounded singing there with only 
 the moon as our audience. 
 
 When the singing ended I thought I heard a sound 
 in the gloom behind the bushes that grow in thickness 
 around our camp. I didn't say anything about it, not 
 even to Harold, but when I noticed Harold look around 
 after the next song ended I began to suspect that some- 
 body was hiding there. However, when Doc called 
 "Bed Time," we all turned into the tent and took our 
 cots without a word, and as one of our camp rules is 
 "no speaking" after the lights are out, it was not long 
 before all of us were sound asleep. 
 
 You wonder why I tell you so much about our sing- 
 ing? Well, it may be because I am fond of it myself. 
 It seems to do me a lot of good to hear good singing. It 
 
 56
 
 WAY POWN Upon THE 
 
 5WAMEE
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 seems to stir up the good that is in a fellow but seldom 
 is known; it seems to wake up a feeling of kindness and 
 tenderness; it makes a fellow's thoughts always go back 
 to home and those he loves somehow; it makes you for- 
 get bad things and think of good things. God knew, 
 when he made us, just what singing was to be for. You 
 know it makes you think. 
 
 But that isn't why I am writing so much about our 
 singing. No, no, if that was all there was to it I would 
 pass over it and go ahead with my story, for the story 
 is what you want. But our singing had a lot to do with 
 our story, as you shall see. 
 
 The next morning we were up with the birds, as 
 usual. We had a swim while Roy and Doc prepared 
 breakfast, and after breakfast we held a little meeting, 
 in which I told the boys once more how important it 
 was to stick close to the camp and not stray away from 
 it at all. Then the usual ball game began in the clear- 
 ing, and Harold stayed in the tent to talk to me. 
 
 "You heard it last night, Hawkins?" he said. "I 
 saw you look into the shadows once." 
 
 "Yes," I said. "Spies from the Pelham camp." 
 
 "Exactly," said Harold. "We are being watched. 
 I don't suppose we ought to sit here like dummies and 
 wait for something to happen." 
 
 "No," I said, "I guess we should go hunting for 
 trouble before it comes." 
 
 "You've got me wrong," said Harold. "I don't 
 propose to be caught unaware, that's all. I think we 
 should do as much spy work as the Pelhams. It's great 
 sport, in a way, and you say you are looking for sport. 
 What do you say to a tramp up the island and wait there 
 until the Pelhams clear out, then we can inspect their 
 camp and see what Harkinson is up to?" 
 
 58
 
 SINGING BY THE CAMPFIRE 
 
 "Don't mention that fellow's name to me," I said; 
 "he gets on my nerves. But I guess you are right. 
 Don't you think, though, we should take a few others 
 along? It's sort o' scarey, just we two, against a gang 
 like that." 
 
 "It would not be bad," said Harold, "to take one 
 or two others into our confidence. We might need 
 them. Whom do you suggest?" 
 
 "Link, for one," I answered. "The Skinny Guy is 
 getting back into shape again since his return from 
 Cuba. You know what a good spy Link is, and then 
 there is that new fellow I introduced you to Will 
 Standish. He's a valuable help, I can tell you. I found 
 that out many times in Cuba. 
 
 "I liked his looks the minute I met him," said Harold; 
 "all right, we four will do. Then I would suggest that 
 you appoint two or three boys to sentry duty here at 
 the camp. Somebody should be on the lookout all the 
 time. One should be on watch on the river bank and 
 another back in the woods there." 
 
 "All right," I said, "let your brother Oliver have the 
 river. I'll get Bill Darby to watch the rear of the 
 camp. What else?" 
 
 Harold had nothing more to suggest. We imme- 
 diately called Link and Will Standish and told them 
 they were going with us. Then we gave Oliver and Bill 
 Darby instructions as to what we wanted them to do 
 while we were away, which they were only too glad to do. 
 
 We struck out, the four of us, through the island 
 in the direction of the Pelham camp. The wood- 
 chopping had stopped, and I imagined that the Pel- 
 hams had now enough logs to build their stockade. 
 When we arrived at the place we were surprised at 
 the great number of trees the Pelhams had cut down. 
 
 59
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 But the stockade was no further completed than when 
 we saw it last. Not a single Pelham was in sight. I 
 imagined that they had given up their idea and de- 
 serted the island. We felt encouraged by the lonesome- 
 ness of the place, and walked boldly up to the pile of 
 logs that had been stored in front of the half-built 
 fortress. 
 
 As we neared it a sound from the interior caused 
 us to stop short. The next instant a boy stood in the 
 doorway of the half-finished stockade. I knew him at 
 once. It was Ham Gardner, one of the leading Pel- 
 hams. I expected to see all of them come out behind 
 him, thinking that they had seen us and were hiding. 
 But only Ham stepped forth. He smiled a bit at me, 
 and I heard him murmur "Hawkins" under his breath. 
 
 "Hello, Ham," I said. "Where's the gang?" 
 
 "Don't know," he said in a low voice. "What y' 
 want here?" 
 
 "Just want to pay a friendly visit," I said. "What's 
 the Jog house for?" 
 
 "Don't know," he said. 
 
 "Did Briggen tell you to say that?" I said. "I sup- 
 pose you are to say nothing but 'don't know.' Am I 
 right?" 
 
 Ham shifted from one foot to the other and looked 
 at Will Standish. 
 
 "Say," he said at length, "you fellows must get 
 out of yere right away. They'll be back soon, and if 
 they see me I'll catch it for talking to you." 
 
 "All right, Ham," I said, "you know me. I always 
 helped you out whenever I could." 
 
 Ham nodded. "Yeah, that's all right, Hawkins," 
 he said. "I ain't got nothin* agin you personal, but I 
 got to follow orders. You'll have to cl'ar out." 
 
 60
 
 SINGING BY THE CAMPFIRE 
 
 I walked closer and looked into Ham's simple face. 
 "Listen," I said: "I know you're under orders, and I 
 think maybe the Pelhams are kind o' hard on you, 
 Ham, leaving you behind when they go on their ex- 
 peditions. Where are they? Spying on our camp?" 
 
 Ham shook his head. "No," he said, "shootin' 
 ducks for dinner. Lots of 'em on the other side o' the 
 island," 
 
 "Tell me just this, Ham," I said, "and I won't give 
 you away. Why didn't Harkinson attack our camp 
 before this? Surely you know the plans. He was sup- 
 posed to chase us off as soon as we came. We've been 
 here three days now and we've not seen sight o' him. 
 Now, why?" 
 
 Ham did not move. Nor did he open his mouth. 
 Harold had gone over to the pile of logs and was writing 
 something down in a little book. When Ham would 
 not answer my questions I saw that we could get no 
 information out of him, so I walked over to Harold. 
 He tore the page out of the book on which he had 
 written, and asked if I had a pin. I told him no, but I 
 had a couple of tacks in my coat pocket. "That will 
 do," he said, and I handed him two. With a stone he 
 tacked the page from his notebook onto the log so that 
 it would not come off. Then, before I knew what he 
 intended doing, he had shoved the log off the pile, and 
 it went tumbling down into the river. For a moment 
 it danced around in the water, and then started floating 
 with the current down toward our end of the island. 
 
 "For heaven's sake, Harold," I exclaimed, "matters 
 are bad enough without giving the Pelhams more 
 reasons to come after us." 
 
 Harold smiled. "We can use the logs," he said, 
 "and it will keep the Pelhams busy chopping others 
 
 61
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 until we get a fence built around our camp. Here go 
 the rest. I wrote a note on the first one to Oliver. 
 He will catch them as they pass the camp." 
 
 Ham Gardner watched us sullenly. He said not a 
 word and made no move to stop the log-rolling. Will 
 Standish and Link helped Harold with the pile until 
 the last log was in the water floating toward our camp. 
 Then a sound came to our ears. How I remember that 
 sound, and how it startled me that day! It was the 
 sound of a horn, a horn I had heard many times, but 
 not since the days of Stoner's boy. Yes, I could not 
 be mistaken. It was Stoner's horn. And the minute 
 I heard it I knew that it was Harkinson who blew that 
 blast upon it. No other boy around here could make 
 you think of Stoner as Harkinson could. Now, I knew 
 that Harkinson had known Stoner he had been one 
 of Stoner's gang. 
 
 Ham Gardner heard it as quickly, and darted a 
 quick glance at me and went inside the log house. 
 
 We did not stop to ponder over it then and there. 
 We flew as fast as our legs could carry us and as quickly 
 as we could dodge through that thick woods. I wondered 
 after we had run quite a distance, why we ran. I thought 
 then that because we had thrown the logs into the river 
 we had been afraid to face the Pelhams when they 
 would discover it. But that wasn't the reason. The 
 reason was that all of us had seen Harkinson once 
 and once seen he was a fellow to be afraid of forever 
 after. Will Standish alone acted as though he would 
 wait and meet his former foe again, but when we three 
 started running he followed. 
 
 But we had been tricked somehow. For suddenly 
 we found ourselves facing a group of Pelhams, headed 
 by the ungainly Harkinson. He carried a rifle in the 
 
 62
 
 SINGING BY THE CAMPFIRE 
 
 hollow of his arm, and Briggen, the Pelham leader, who 
 walked directly behind him, had a few wild ducks strung 
 over his shoulder. The four of us stopped short. Har- 
 kinson's gleaming eyes were upon us and he had an 
 ugly smile upon his broad face. 
 
 "Sneaks," he said in a low, harsh voice; "you're a 
 fine bunch of sneaks. I've a notion to punch your noses 
 red just for luck. Don't be afraid. I won't do it. I've 
 got other ideas. Look up, you with the tow head. 
 You thought you did a smart trick when you threw 
 your lasso over my shoulders and hauled me out of my 
 boat, didn't you? Well, we will even up that score 
 yet. Look at me." 
 
 I saw Will Standish grow furiously angry at these 
 taunting words, and his fists clenched. I expected to 
 see him step up and strike Harkinson for that taunt. 
 But he did not move. And then I did not wonder 
 much myself at it. Somehow or other I did not feel 
 able to move. This fellow Harkinson's eyes held me as 
 though I were enchanted. The four of us stood there 
 as powerless to do anything as if we had been made of 
 stone. Fear, you call it? Well, maybe so. I don't 
 know. All that I know is that somehow I did not feel 
 like moving. All I wanted to do was to keep my eye 
 on this fellow Harkinson and watch him as close as I 
 would a snake that was looking hard at me from the 
 grass. 
 
 "I saved you to-day," Harkinson was saying, "and 
 I saved you the day before. Your camp still stands on 
 the south bank because I let it stand. But you better 
 keep on singing every night if you want it to stay stand- 
 ing where it is. Sing! Yes, you heard me. It was only 
 that that saved you. And I'm goin' to let you go again 
 to-day, but I'm thinking you'll have to sing harder 
 
 63
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 than ever from now on if you want to see that pretty 
 white tent stay in that pretty spot where you have 
 pitched it. Now go!" 
 
 And all the time we were standing there as though 
 we had come for no other reason than to hear him preach 
 to us. His eyes, I say, were on us like cat's eyes from 
 the very first moment we met him, and as he ordered 
 us to go he followed us with those narrow eyes until 
 we had passed him. The Pelham fellows fell back and 
 formed a passage for us as we started, and not a sound 
 came from their lips. Something funny had come over 
 Pelham. They no longer jeered us when they had us 
 in their grip. What had this Harkinson done to change 
 them so? 
 
 We arrived at the camp just as Doc Waters and 
 Oliver were fastening the last log that had come down. 
 Oliver had caught sight of the first one with the note, 
 and had followed instructions. Bill Darby reported that 
 he had seen a number of Pelham flat boats and skiffs 
 pull around the other side of the island. Then we went 
 inside the tent and talked it over. 
 
 "That fellow's got me buffaloed, Hawkins," said Will 
 Standish to me. "I never could whip him if I had to 
 meet him face to face. Did you notice his eyes?" 
 
 "I felt the same way," said Harold quietly. "He 
 seems to impress me as being of great strength or some- 
 thing. I knew I was beaten when we faced him in the" 
 woods there." 
 
 "Go easy," I said. "Give me time to think. But 
 one thing is certain, boys: We must sing like the deuce 
 to-night." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 64
 
 VII 
 
 Ham Gardner's Tip 
 
 MUCH to my surprise, several days passed with- 
 out any sign that Harkinson and the Pelham 
 boys intended to drive us away from our island 
 camp. To be sure we sang every night; something told 
 me that the singing was holding them back. Harkinson 
 had some soft spot in his hard old heart for good singing. 
 I know it was he who came sneaking down to our camp 
 every night and hid in the bushes beyond while we sang 
 to the tunes Lew Hunter played on his accordion. 
 Of course, he had come to spy upon us, but with his 
 spying he never made an attack. It was the singing, 
 you see. It sort o' held him back. No matter how 
 much he disliked to have us there, he did not bother 
 us as long as he heard the singing in our camp every 
 night. You see, it's a funny world we live in. 
 
 But I knew it couldn't last. I knew something 
 would happen soon that would set loose all of Har- 
 kinson's meanness and upset our camp like a cyclone. 
 The fact that we had thrown all of the logs into the 
 river and used them for our own camp was enough to 
 cause them to seek revenge upon us. And I knew it 
 would come. Sooner or later we would have to give 
 them a receipt for those logs. 
 
 Harold and I took turn about with Will and Link 
 in going down to the Pelham camp to spy around. 
 But all that we could learn without getting close enough 
 to be seen was that they had decided to finish the build- 
 ing of their log house and the stockade around it. Evi- 
 
 5 65
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 dently they intended to make a safe retreating place 
 for themselves before they began their attacks upon us. 
 And with that same idea in mind I set my boys tc work 
 with the logs Harold had floated down from the Pelham 
 camp, and a hundred yards beyond our camp we had a 
 solid stockade fence built in a few days' time that would 
 keep us as safely from harm as would the Pelham's 
 fortress. Only one door did we make in the log fence, 
 and there we had a sentry on duty all day long. At 
 night time we locked it inside with three good-sized 
 padlocks, and Jerry Moore had charge of the keys. 
 The log fence was like a half-circle extending from one 
 side of the island across to the water line on the other 
 side. The only way that they could enter the camp 
 now was from the river, and Oliver and Bill Darby 
 took turns about watching it. 
 
 Now, it was about the fourth night, as we sat outside 
 the tent singing, that I felt Harold touch my arm, and 
 I followed him quietly into the shadows behind the camp- 
 fire. The other boys did not notice we had left. 
 
 "He's here again," whispered Harold to me. "He is 
 watching you and me this very minute. I'm not going 
 to stand it any longer. I'm tired of being watched every 
 night. I'm for putting a stop to it." 
 
 "How did he get in?" I asked. "The gate is locked." 
 
 "Over the fence," whispered Harold. "Nothing can 
 stop him. He climbs like a cat." 
 
 "Well, what will you do? Fight him?" 
 
 Harold hesitated a moment and looked at me puzzled. 
 The next minute there came a sound like the hiss of a 
 snake, and something thin and round shot out above our 
 heads as I yelled, "Look out! Duck it!" 
 
 Harold ducked just in time. The noise of my yell- 
 ing brought the singing to an end, and the other boys 
 
 66
 
 HAM GARDNER'S TIP 
 
 came running up to us. Harold jumped up and ran 
 after a figure darting away in the shadow of the bushes. 
 I sped after him, and as I came up to the fence I saw 
 him standing there looking up, as something gray and 
 like a snake went wriggling over the top of the stockade. 
 
 "What was it?" I asked. 
 
 "A rope," answered Harold, with a short laugh. 
 "He tried to lasso me, I think. Must have taken me 
 for Will Standish. I guess he wants to pay Link back 
 and show him he can do as much with a lasso as Will 
 can." 
 
 "Careful, boys," broke in Doc Waters, as he ran up 
 at the head of the other boys, "it's too dark out this 
 way. Better come back." 
 
 But Harold was scaling the stockade even as quickly 
 as Harkinson had done it, and before Doc's last word 
 was said Harold had jumped over. Doc ordered Jerry 
 to unlock the gate at once. "The boy's foolish to go 
 out alone in the dark," he said. 
 
 Jerry quickly opened the gate and we ran out, follow- 
 ing Doc Waters. It is dark outside the stockade fence, 
 for, although a moon was shining, the branches of the 
 trees grow close together, shutting out the moonlight. 
 I called to Harold as we ran, but no answer came. I 
 began to grow afraid that he had fallen into some trick 
 of the fellow Harkinson's, and I was greatly relieved 
 when we came up to him where he stood in a clear part 
 of the island. 
 
 "He beats me," Harold was saying as we came up. 
 "He's gone. Did you ever know a fellow to get away 
 so easily? I saw him just a minute before I stopped 
 here. He seemed to vanish all of a sudden." 
 
 Doc scolded Harold for being so foolish as to run 
 after Harkinson, and made us all turn about quickly 
 
 67
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 and return to the camp, where we said little more, but 
 went to our cots in the tent and to sleep. 
 
 The following day Doc Waters said he had to go 
 to town, and I told him he could go with the canoe I 
 intended sending to town for groceries. Doc said I had 
 better send two boys for it, so I told Johnny McLarren 
 and Perry Stokes to go. It was just after breakfast 
 when Doc and the two boys started. Doc made me 
 promise to keep the boys close to the tent and to see 
 that none of them ran any risk outside the stockade 
 fence. 
 
 So, after we were alone, I told the boys that if they 
 cared to play ball they could play water baseball down 
 in the little pool near one end of our stockade fence. 
 It was really a great game; it was new to the boys, 
 and after they got started they said they liked it as 
 well as baseball. I think they spent the whole morn- 
 ing in the water, and came out only for lunch and a 
 rest, after which they went back for another game 
 or two. 
 
 I was sitting in the tent writing about the night 
 before when in came Harold and the Skinny Guy. 
 "Hawkins," said Harold, "I've a notion to go and find 
 out how Harkinson got away last night. It was too 
 dark last night, and Doc wouldn't listen to reason. 
 But let's go now and have a look." 
 
 I slipped old Rufe Rogers's shotgun under my arm 
 as I went with Harold and Link. Bill Darby was on 
 sentry duty at the gate, and I told him to watch close, 
 and if he saw us come running to hold the gate wide 
 open for us and slam it tight as soon as we passed 
 through, which he promised to do. 
 
 We did not have to walk far to reach the place where 
 Harold lost track of Harkinson the night before. And 
 
 68
 
 HAM GARDNER'S TIP 
 
 as soon as we reached it Link told us how Harkinson 
 disappeared. 
 
 "Ah," he said, "I see. Look, Hawkins. It's Stoner's 
 old disappearing place. Remember it now?" 
 
 Remember it I did. The old rotten tree stump 
 stood before us. Even as I looked into its hollow trunk 
 I thought of the day long ago when I heard Stoner's 
 running footsteps sounding in the tunnel underneath 
 and the time Long Tom caught Sanders, a little kid 
 who belonged to Stoner's gang and who was showing 
 us that secret entrance. 
 
 "Yes," I said, "I remember it, Link. I was afraid 
 of this. I had a notion that Harkinson was one of 
 Stoner's fellows. He knows all of his master's old tricks 
 and hiding places. But I believe he is ten times worse 
 than Stoner ever could be. We will have to be mighty 
 careful, boys. None need to be surprised if we find our- 
 selves in that tunnel some day, tied hand and foot, and 
 aching for a drink of water or a bite of a ham sand- 
 wich." 
 
 Harold stood looking into the old hollow tree as 
 though it fascinated him. 
 
 "Pretty slick," he said, with a smile. "I'll give him 
 credit. He thought we would have forgotten it by this 
 time." 
 
 "Look," said Link, "there is a door see, a trap- 
 door down in the bottom of this hollow tree. They 
 have it locked, I guess, so nobody can get in after they 
 go down there. They would be safe from anybody, 
 once they get inside." 
 
 "Beat it!" whispered Harold. "Somebody is under 
 that trap door." 
 
 Sounds of a bolt being shoved in a rusty latch came 
 from beneath the door in the hollow stump. Together 
 
 69
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 we leaped away into the bushes that ringed in the clear- 
 ing. There we crouched and waited. Soon we saw the 
 top of a shaggy head pop up in the hollow tree. The 
 next minute I expected to see Harkinson come out 
 of that hole, but it wasn't; no, it was Ham Gardner, of 
 the Pelhams. He stood up and turned around to the 
 north end, where the Pelham camp was located, and 
 
 * IT WAS HAM 
 
 <qftRPMEf? OF 
 THE PtLHAMS?
 
 HAM GARDNER'S TIP 
 
 shook his fist in that direction as he muttered some- 
 thing we could not catch. Then, drawing up after him 
 a long stick, he sat himself down beside the tree stump 
 and pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket. That is, 
 at one time it had been a handkerchief, but now it was 
 but a torn and dirty rag. Still it looked nearly white. 
 We watched him silently. He sat there, not knowing 
 that he was being watched, and took his time in fasten- 
 ing the handkerchief like a flag to one end of his stick. 
 Then, shaking his fist again in the Pelham direction, he 
 started for our stockade, holding high the stick, on which 
 fluttered the bit of white. 
 
 "As I live," said Harold, with a chuckle, "I believe 
 he is going to our camp. He expects us to take that 
 dirty rag of his to be a flag of truce. What's he up to?" 
 
 "Come on," I said. I was not afraid of Ham Gardner 
 at any time. And I surely was not afraid of him now 
 when he carried a white flag and I carried a shotgun. 
 So we shot out after him. He heard us coming and 
 
 71
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 dropped upon his knees and started for the bushes. 
 But when he saw who we were be scrambled to his feet 
 and hurried back to us. 
 
 "Hawkins," he cried, "I was just goin' to your 
 place. I ain't comin' for fight, you see. Here's my 
 white flag, which means I come peaceful." 
 
 "Yeah," I said. "What's your game, Ham?" 
 
 "I'm gonna git out of that," he said, with a nod 
 toward the Pelham camp. "That new guy is a regular 
 devil to me. I can't stand him no longer. Look." 
 
 He pulled up the back of his ragged blue shirt. 
 Across his back were a dozen red stripes. 
 
 "Good Lord, Ham," I said. "You don't mean to 
 say" 
 
 "He done it," said Ham in a low voice. "He beat 
 me with a strap because I let you boys throw all them 
 logs of his into the river." 
 
 "Ah," said Harold. "I'm sorry, Ham; really I'm 
 sorry you had to stand that punishment for something 
 I did. It's too bad." 
 
 "Yeah," said Ham, "it's too late, too. Listen: If 
 you don't want the same thing to happen to some o' 
 your'n, you'd better act quick. Him and the others 
 are on their way up the river now. Briggen spied your 
 two boys goin' up this morning with the old doc. They're 
 waitin' for those two boys to come back by themselves. 
 Harkinson is goin' to make them two kids pay for 
 what you done to his log pile." 
 
 "The scoundrel!" said Harold, and he was off like 
 a shot toward our camp. 
 
 "Ham," I said, "it's good of you to tell us, believe 
 me. I'll pay you back nicely when you want me to. 
 You'd better get back to your post now quick. If you 
 want me any time, come over to the tent with your 
 
 72
 
 HAM GARDNER'S TIP 
 
 white flag up. I'll know it's you. I'll have to hurry 
 along now." 
 
 Ham did not even smile as he hustled back to the 
 tree stump, and Link and I flew after Harold. It did 
 not take long to get the boys together and tell them 
 that Johnny McLarren and Perry Stokes were being 
 laid for by Harkinson and his gang of Pelhams. And 
 it would have done you good to see how quickly they 
 took to their canoes and the whole fleet started like a 
 shot for the upper turn. 
 
 We were too late! 
 
 Just as we turned the bend we caught sight of our 
 two boys in the canoe coming down, both of them pad- 
 dling rapidly with a loaded canoe between them. I 
 urged my boys to paddle faster, and they tried, against 
 the current, but, to our dismay, we saw, a quarter of a 
 mile above us, the skiffs and flatboats of our Pelham 
 foes leaving the bank and making swiftly for the lone 
 canoe that was coming down stream. "Hurry!" I cried 
 to those paddling near me, and you should have seen 
 them strain their arms! 
 
 But the Pelham gang had neared their quarry. I 
 saw Perry Stokes rise up and swing his paddle over 
 his head. Then there came a shouting from the Pel- 
 hams as they closed around the helpless two in the 
 loaded canoe. A skiff went over in the scuffle that 
 followed. I saw two Pelhams hanging to the gunwales 
 of the canoe; then it, too, went over, and the shouting 
 and noise was enough to drive one deaf. 
 
 But then we arrived on the scene late, but better 
 than never. Jerry Moore started our battle cry as we 
 drove into those Pelham boats. Each of our canoes 
 picked a Pelham boat to grapple with, while I steered 
 
 73
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 straight over to where Perry Stokes was hanging onto 
 a Pelham skiff, his lips pressed and his eyes closed, 
 hanging like a bulldog, although a Pelham oar was 
 battering his fingers to loosen his grip. I caught the 
 skiff in the oarlock with my paddle. With one great 
 effort I bore down. She answered like a sail to a wind. 
 Just as Perry went down his end came over, the Pelham 
 who sat in the stern toppled backward into the water, 
 and the one who had been standing up lunged against 
 my canoe as his boat capsized, and I yelled to Link to 
 steady her good old Link never misses he didn't 
 miss then. Our canoe sat upright, although she danced 
 and careened around like a one-legged duck, and I 
 reached out my paddle for Perry. He was spitting the 
 foaming water from his lips as he came for the canoe. 
 Link and I straddled the gunwales to balance her while 
 Perry pulled himself into the canoe, and then we only, 
 for the first time, had a look around to see how the 
 fight was going elsewhere. 
 
 It was going good. Three Pelham flatboats already 
 were hurrying away, glad to make their escape. Four 
 of them floated down side up, while a number of Pel- 
 hams were scattering away through the bushes on either 
 bank. But coming at us now was the worst of the lot 
 the one green skiff in which stood the leader of all this 
 mischief Harkinson. How his eyes glared at us! He 
 seemed to be coming to me. 
 
 "How did you know?'* he yelled harshly. "Who 
 told you?" 
 
 I tried to answer him. But as I raised my head and 
 looked into his face oh, boy, those eyes they held 
 me dumb. I could not speak. His skiff, rowed by 
 Briggen and Dave Burns, sped swiftly past us. He 
 swung one arm and caught me full in the face with 
 
 74
 
 HAM GARDNER'S TIP 
 
 his broad fist. I flopped down into the middle of the 
 canoe as Perry and Link rose quickly to steady her, else 
 we would have all been in the river. 
 
 "You coward!" I yelled. "Come back come out 
 on the bank there; fight like a square fighter, and I'll 
 teach you something." 
 
 Only that harsh laugh that belonged to Harkinson 
 came back to answer me. 
 
 75
 
 VIII 
 
 Hawkins Against Harkinson 
 
 EVER since the fight on the river I had an idea 
 that I should like to get close enough to Har- 
 kinson to pay him back that one nasty crack 
 he gave me as his boat shot past mine. That was a 
 cowardly trick, and I wanted to even it up. 
 
 But the ending of that water fight was peculiar, to 
 say the least. We had won; yes, in the matter of re- 
 sult, we had won. But even though we had the Pel- 
 hams fleeing from us and half their number of boats 
 floating upside down in the river, Harkinson went 
 through without a scratch. He was not even touched. 
 Those Pelhams who rowed his green skiff knew their 
 work. How they threaded in and out of us! Harkin- 
 soon stood up in his boat and directed the fight. When- 
 ever one of our boys turned to tackle Harkinson he 
 found it almost impossible to reach the unshapely bully. 
 That's how it came about that I let him crack me I 
 could not have stopped him if I had seen his purpose at 
 the outset. No, Harkinson's eyes held me while he 
 sent his fist out to meet my face. It was his eyes 
 something like a snake's eyes, I guess that held me. 
 "I'm beginning to believe," said Harold, as we 
 gathered around our campfire that night, "that Har- 
 kinson can hypnotize a fellow. I never felt so strange 
 in my life. When he looks straight at me I feel as though 
 I could not move my arm or utter one word unless he 
 commanded me to." 
 
 Strange as it may seem, Harold had spoken exactly 
 76
 
 HAWKINS AGAINST HARKINSON 
 
 what I had been belie ving ever since I met Harkinson. 
 Whatever it was, the power in Harkinson's eyes was 
 enough to make a fellow well, we will say frightened 
 so badly frightened that he is almost turned to stone. 
 If you have never seen a fellow like Harkinson you 
 won't understand. It was his looks and those strange 
 green-gray eyes set in deep sockets in that dark-skinned 
 head. That, as you saw him standing still. But when 
 he moved toward you oh, boy! I once saw a chip- 
 munk try to get away from a snake yes, it was just 
 the same way: The snake held the poor thing spell- 
 bound until it struck its fang behind the little chipmunk's 
 shoulder. Harkinson's long arms swung as he approached 
 and they seemed long enough and powerful enough to 
 crush the life out of a fellow. 
 
 Doc Waters had to stay in town for the next two 
 days. And that night when we were sitting around 
 the fire a storm came up and it began to rain. And how 
 it did pour! We ran inside the tent and went to bed at 
 once. There wasn't anything else to do. Lew Hunter 
 tried to start some singing, but the noise of the storm 
 drowned out his music, and after a little while he gave 
 it up and put his accordion away. I was very glad to 
 find that our tent turned aside the rain like a duck's 
 back; but for a few dashes of wind-blown spray that 
 came through the ventilators occasionally, we kept dry 
 and warm. If you ever slept in a tent while the rain 
 beats down upon it, you know how cozy it is. It is fine 
 to sleep outdoors during a rain as long as you know 
 you're not getting wet. 
 
 But next morning the sun was shining bright, and 
 only the little pools of water in hollow places of the 
 ground and here and there a fallen limb of a tree were 
 left to remind us of the storm. The ground was muddy 
 
 77
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 on the river bank, and all of us boys went barefoot, and 
 after breakfast had our regular swim in the pool. Then 
 Roy Dobel, who did the cooking, told us we had better 
 get busy and catch some fish, for we were all tired of the 
 canned stuff we had been eating. So out came our 
 fishing tackle, and the boys hunted different spots 
 round about where each imagined the fish would bite 
 best. 
 
 I stayed hi the tent to write about last night and the 
 storm, and in a while came Perry Stokes, smiling through 
 the flap of the tent. 
 
 "Writin* again, sir?" he called. 
 
 "You can come in, but that 'sir' will have to stay 
 out," I said, smiling back at him. "Perry, how many 
 times have I told you to drop the 'sir' business? Now 
 remember what I tell you." 
 
 "Very well, sir Hawkins, I mean," he added 
 hastily. I shook my head. "Hopeless," I said. He 
 came hi and stood beside me. 
 
 "That was a nasty, mean chock on the jaw that 
 Harkinson gave you in the boat," he said. "It wasn't 
 manly at all, sir." 
 
 "No," I agreed. "But what of it, Perry? What's 
 there to do about it now?" 
 
 Perry's eyes sparkled as he smilingly answered: 
 "He is to be paid back somehow. It wouldn't be well 
 for our boys, sir, to let him get away with that. It 
 would be like letting him call us cowards. We should 
 show him his mistake, sir Hawkins, no matter what 
 the cost." 
 
 I looked at Perry with some pride, I must say, when 
 I heard him talk like that. 
 
 "That's very good talk, Perry," I said, "but let 
 matters run. Harkinson is running down a long, straight 
 
 78
 
 HAWKINS AGAINST HARKINSON 
 
 lane, but there's no lane without a turning, you know. 
 His day will come. When it does I will take care to 
 uphold the honor of our boys, even if I have to stand a 
 dozen more cracks like the one he gave me yesterday." 
 
 Perry seemed to be satisfied at this. But as he was 
 walking out he turned and said: "I'm sorry, Hawkins, 
 that it was you who had to stand the punch. I was 
 right beside you. But the bully didn't seem to see me 
 at all." 
 
 I laughed. "You just keep out of the way of his 
 eyes, Perry," I said, "and you won't have any trouble. 
 It's his eyes that do it. You'll have to get him from the 
 rear if you hope to have success." 
 
 Perry bowed and left the tent. I finished my writ- 
 ing and afterward got out my box of fishing tackle. 
 The boys were having good luck, and when they saw 
 me come out they all yelled to me, each one claiming 
 to have found the best place to fish. I sat myself be- 
 tween Will Standish and Harold Court, and threw in 
 my line. For the racket they made you would not be- 
 lieve a fish would have stayed within ten feet of where 
 the boys sat, but I must say it was a surprise to me to 
 see the strings of fish they had caught. There were 
 some nice silver perch in the stream, big fellows that 
 showed signs of living well around the island shore. 
 I guess the worms and water bugs kept them well sup- 
 plied with food. 
 
 Now it was strange that no one had missed Perry 
 Stokes. It showed me plainly that the other boys did 
 not think much of Perry. He was only the caretaker and 
 the janitor of the camp. That was the fact, I guess, 
 that made the boys overlook him. But after I had 
 caught a few fish and the novelty of it had worn off, I 
 took a look around and counted my boys that were 
 
 79
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 fishing there on the bank. And, allowing for Roy 
 Doble, who was making a fire in the stove by the tent, 
 they were all there but Perry. My heart gave a leap 
 as I remembered the kid's words about paying back 
 the cowardly blow Harkinson had given me. I jumped 
 up at once and put my line up. Harold asked me 
 what was up. 
 
 "I'm going up to the Pelham camp," I said in a low 
 tone, "and I'm going alone." 
 
 Harold begged to go along, but I gave him his orders 
 to stay. Will Standish, too, asked me to let him go 
 with me, but I shook my head. "Call Lew Hunter," 
 I said. Will ran over to Lew and soon we four stood 
 together. 
 
 "Lew," I said, "get the boys together in about 
 fifteen minutes and get out your old accordion and tell 
 them you intend to have singing practice. I want you 
 boys to keep on singing till I get back here. Sing every 
 song you know. Now, mind what I tell you. Start 
 the singing in about fifteen minutes, Lew." 
 
 "I will, Hawkins," he said. "I think I understand 
 what you want. Harmony." 
 
 "That's it," I said, "and you fellows will help me 
 more by staying here and singing than you could pos- 
 sibly do if you were with me." 
 
 I felt angry with Perry Stokes as I rushed through 
 the door of our stockade with my shotgun in my arm. 
 The rain from the night before had made the ground 
 muddy, and there was no path through this tangle of 
 wild wood. I could have taken the clearing where I 
 could have run, but then I would be in plain view, and 
 I wanted to steal up to that Pelham stronghold with- 
 out being seen. I guess I made it in about twelve 
 minutes. I stood looking at the Pelham stockade, 
 
 80
 
 HAWKINS AGAINST HARKINSON 
 
 over the top of which I could see the top of the log- 
 house. Not a sound came from the place. Not a figure 
 was to be seen. It made me bold to see the place so 
 deserted, and I began to believe that Perry had not 
 come here. Perhaps he had followed the Pelhams 
 when they left. By this time they might have left the 
 island on one of their hunting expeditions. Just as I 
 was about to give up and go back to our camp I heard 
 the yell of a boy. It came from inside the stockade. 
 That was the only sound. A yell as if some kid was 
 getting a beating. And then it came again and I 
 leaped clear over the bushes and ran to the fence of 
 logs. The gate was fastened with a chain and passed 
 through to the inside, where it was held, so that nobody 
 could open it but from within. The yell came again. 
 This time like a scream, and I began to pound on the 
 gate with the butt end of my gun. 
 
 "Open this gate," I yelled, "or I'll knock it down!" 
 
 I was surprised to find the gate open so quickly. 
 Harkinson stood there, holding a strap in his hand, 
 smiling ugly. 
 
 "Come in," he said. 
 
 I did not answer. Neither did I look into his face. 
 I decided to keep away from the hypnotizing look of 
 those eyes. Instead I looked at a sight that made me 
 mad through and through. It was poor Ham Gardner 
 tied to a post, his back bare and covered with stripes. 
 I rushed inside and over to the post where Ham Gardner 
 was tied. The first thing I saw was Ham's hunting 
 knife still in his belt. I grabbed it and slashed the rope 
 that held his wrists to the stake. Then I turned fiercely 
 upon Harkinson, who was standing with his arms 
 folded, watching me with an evil grin. 
 
 "You coward," I said. "I'm going to tell you right 
 
 6 81
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 now that you've got to stop treating these boys in this 
 manner. The sheriff will tell you where to get off. I 
 don't care if it's a Pelham or anybody else. What right 
 have you to thrash him like this?" 
 
 "I won't ask you or the sheriff what I ought to do," 
 said Harkinson, coming close to me. "You know you 
 can't do anything without law. And if you break a law 
 you get punished. This fellow knew what would be 
 coming to him, and he went and broke one of our laws 
 anyhow." 
 
 "What did he do?" I asked. 
 
 "He's hid one of your own guys," replied Harkinson 
 in a savage tone. "One of your spies that came over 
 here, and would have got what he deserved if this 
 double-crosser hadn't put him somewhere. So he has 
 to take the medicine your fellow was to get." 
 
 82
 
 HAWKINS AGAINST HARKINSON 
 
 "Listen," I said to Harkinson, keeping my eyes 
 lowered to his shoulders: "You're not going to beat 
 any of my boys like this, and you're not going to beat 
 any Pelhams, either." 
 
 To LOOK, Ant? t>Aw HIM 
 STILL t>TAW7iW5 ON THE;
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "Oh! Is that so?" exclaimed Harkinson. Before 
 I could get my gun up his long, wiry arms were around 
 me. I dropped the gun and grappled with him. I began 
 to feel as though he were choking the breath out of my 
 body. He was just a head taller than I was, and my 
 head was being pressed close to his chest. I struggled 
 in that grip of iron, and then a happy thought came to 
 me. I raised my head up sharply and with all the force 
 I could. I heard the click of his teeth as my skull 
 crashed up against his chin and he had to loose his grip 
 of me to catch his balance as he shot backward. But 
 before I could make the few steps that separated me 
 from the gun, he was upon me again like a tiger. I 
 squared off and drew back my right and let him have it 
 with all the strength I could straight from the shoulder. 
 It caught him square on the jaw and he bellowed loudly 
 as he reeled back, his long arms working like windmills. 
 However, it made him only more angry, and I knew 
 then that that was all I had and Harkinson would get 
 the best of me now. I tried to hold him off at elbow 
 length, but he crushed with those powerful arms like a 
 bear. Down he bore me, while his one fist sent painful 
 blows to my head. My back felt as though it was 
 about to crack, but still I struggled with the heavy odds 
 against me. 
 
 Then, as though some voice had called to him to 
 stop, Harkinson suddenly let go of me and turned away. 
 I fell in a heap upon the ground, exhausted and bruised. 
 Ham Gardner ran to me and helped me to my feet. 
 "Beat it," he whispered. "You can't match him." 
 
 And I hurried to follow Ham's advice. I reached 
 my gun and started for the gate. As I did so I saw 
 Harkinson standing on the top of the stockade listening 
 with his hand to his ear. I stood still and listened. 
 
 84
 
 HAWKINS AGAINST HARKINSON 
 
 Ah! Strains of "Home, Sweet Home" faintly drifting 
 on the breeze from our camp. That's what it was that 
 stopped the ugly bully, and there was a smile upon his 
 unshapely features as he stood listening to the singing. 
 He seemed to have forgotten I was near. I slipped 
 through the gate unnoticed. He did not even glance 
 down, and after I had gone a distance in the tangle- 
 wood I turned to look and saw him still standing on the 
 stockade like a statue, listening to the harmony that 
 came riding on the breeze from our camp. 
 
 Perry was in camp when I returned. "How," I 
 asked, "did you get out? Ham Gardner said he helped 
 you hide. How comes it that you beat me home?" 
 
 "Ham showed me the trap door in the log house, 
 sir," answered Perry, "and I was quick to enter it and 
 run through the tunnel. It takes you to the old hollow 
 tree stump, sir, where I made my escape and hurried 
 back here."
 
 IX 
 
 Hawkins Dons the Gloves 
 
 IT WOULDN'T be a bad idea, Hawkins," said 
 Will Standish, "to try your hand at boxing. 
 You don't know how easy it is to handle a big 
 fellow like Harkinson if you know how to use your 
 punches and keep away from his reach. Why not 
 take a few lessons? You'll be able to take care of your- 
 self it you should ever meet him alone some time. And 
 you never can tell." 
 
 This suited me to a tee, and I told Will so. I had 
 been watching him and Harold boxing that morning, 
 and I was surprised at both of them. I wished that I 
 could box hah* as good as they did. And now, when 
 I had the chance to learn some of their tricks with the 
 gloves, I took them up. 
 
 They both were smiling as Will put on his gloves 
 and Harold helped me on with mine. "You'll like it, 
 Hawkins," said Harold; "it's great sport. Just wait 
 and see." 
 
 I saw soon enough. Will danced around me so fast 
 that I never could get at him, while at the same time 
 he touched me on the cheek or on the chest whenever 
 he pleased, and soon had me panting for breath. Then 
 his "touches" grew stronger and began to sting. They 
 got me sore at length, because I could not give him any 
 in return. Whenever I sent my fist to his face his face 
 would not be there, but at the same time I would get 
 a neat tap on my chin or nose that was enough to make 
 any fellow sore. 
 
 86
 
 HAWKINS DONS THE GLOVES 
 
 "For the love of Mike, stand still a minute," I 
 yelled. "How do you expect me to hit you when you 
 dodge around like that?" 
 
 Will and Harold both laughed. "Do the same," 
 said Will, "and you won't be easy for me to reach." 
 
 Well, I tried ducking and dancing, but Will's slim 
 body ran rings around me, and if he wanted to he could 
 have knocked me over in a corner as often as he pleased. 
 
 I finally threw off the gloves and said I was through. 
 But once you get started you like the sport. In the 
 afternoon we put on the gloves again, but it was just 
 the same. I stood another good punching, and Will 
 and Harold laughed, but said I was getting on. Harold 
 wanted me to try him for a few rounds, but I told them 
 that I had better get back to the tent, where I had 
 to do some writing, and that later in the day I would 
 tackle him, and that I had learned a few points and was 
 sure I could knock him from here to the river in the 
 first round. 
 
 But Harold was the same as Will. Those kids 
 knew how. I never could get any nearer Harold than 
 I could to Will, and once when I thought I saw an easy 
 chance to sail my right glove into his nose, he pretended 
 to come at me with his left and dodged his head over 
 to the right and came up under my left arm with such a 
 sound right wallop that I went spinning across the grass 
 and landed on my back." 
 
 "Listen," I said: "This is only in fun; you don't 
 have to sock me so hard, you rummy." 
 
 I wouldn't put on the gloves any more that day, 
 but Will and Harold did fool a couple of the other boys 
 into going a few rounds with them. It all ended the 
 same way as my own practice. But I began to study 
 their tricks now. I took in everything, and it made me 
 
 87
 
 THE RED RU_NNERS 
 
 decide that I must be more careful in future practice. 
 I saw how simple some of those tricks were when you 
 know how. I made up ray mind that I could see what 
 kind of blows they intended to strike, and that if I 
 could meet them and turn them aside I would not get 
 such a bad mauling, even if I did not give much 
 punishment. 
 
 Harold and I put on the gloves the next morning. 
 He sailed into me with the same confidence, but he found 
 that I had got wise to some of his stunts. I blocked his 
 blows as they came. Then when he did hit me on the 
 head so that I saw stars I laughed at it instead of get- 
 ting angry. I wasn't going to lose my temper and my 
 head. So when I stood him off that way about two 
 rounds, Harold decided that he would finish me. I let 
 him come, and I got in my first blow that made him sit 
 down quite suddenly and look up at me in surprise. 
 Then he turned to Will and said, "Hawkins is getting 
 on, don't you think?" 
 
 It seemed as though every boy in the camp was 
 anxious to learn, and from that time on there was always 
 some boxing practice going on. Doc Waters enjoyed 
 this very much. He said it was fine exercise for us, and 
 it would do us good to learn how to give and take. 
 There were times when some of the fellows would get 
 sore when they got a jab or a hook, or whatever they 
 call those stinging blows that come like a surprise party, 
 but we soon made it understood that anybody that lost 
 his temper during a boxing practice would not be al- 
 lowed to put on the gloves again. So that in a short 
 time it was real sport and enjoyed by the whole bunch. 
 
 If you like to see something funny you should see 
 the Skinny Guy boxing. Oh boy, I never laughed so 
 much in my life as I did the first time Link put on the 
 
 88
 
 HAWKINS DONS THE GLOVES 
 
 gloves. He had been watching us for a long time, and 
 he seemed to think the only thing he had to do was to 
 keep dancing and running around so that nobody could 
 reach him. He made a game of tag out of it. His raw- 
 boned, skinny figure, his long legs, and always that 
 wide grin on his thin face made him look the funniest 
 fighter I ever saw. But the Skinny Guy soon learned 
 how to send in his blows, and though the long arm was 
 not strong in looks it carried quite a strong punch, as I 
 often found out when I tried my hand at him. 
 
 We were surprised just after breakfast to hear some- 
 one calling outside of our stockade fence. We hurried 
 out of the tent and I saw a white flag waving just over 
 the top of the barricade. 
 
 "Hawkins!" came the call, "Hawkins!" 
 
 I recognized Ham Gardner's voice. "Open the gate 
 and let him in," I told Bill Darby. The gate was 
 opened quickly and in came Ham Gardner with his 
 white flag of truce. But he was not alone. With him 
 came Briggen, the Pelham leader, and Dave Burns. 
 
 "We come peaceful," hollered Briggen, seeing some 
 of our boys approach him quickly. "Hold off your 
 fellas, Hawkins, we come peaceful." 
 
 "Your white flag tells me that,'* I said; "you are 
 safe. What is the reason of your honorable visit to our 
 despised camp?" 
 
 Briggen frowned, and some of our boys laughed. 
 
 "You talk, Ham," said Briggen; "you tell him." 
 
 Now, a more comical sight I never want to see than 
 those three Pelham leaders standing there in a group, 
 Ham holding up his white flag as though he were afraid 
 that if they let go of that sign of truce they would not 
 
 89
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 be safe within our camp. I could not help smiling as 
 Ham began. 
 
 "We are sick and tired of it, Hawkins," he said, 
 "and we want Harkinson to git out." 
 
 "You mean you want us to help you chase him out 
 of your gang. Isn't that it?" 
 
 "Yes," said Briggen, quickly, "that's it, Hawkins. 
 You guys got as much reason as we have to git rid o' 
 Harkinson. He hates you worse 'n us. He is bound to 
 git some of you if you don't git him away from here." 
 
 "We think we can take care of ourselves," I said, 
 "and we are not afraid of Harkinson, nor of you, Briggen, 
 or any of your fellows. What's the trouble between you 
 boys and Harkinson?" 
 
 "He gits too fresh with my boys," said Briggen. 
 "He thinks he can whip 'em all whenever he pleases. 
 He ain't touched me yet, but look at Ham there. Just 
 look at his back, will you? It's a sight from the lash- 
 ings. And Dave here. Dave's got a couple of beat- 
 ings, too, just because he didn't jump quick enough 
 when Harkinson ordered him to. And he is gittin' 
 worse and worse. Us boys want to be let alone. We 
 can run our own business without a fella like Harkinson 
 tellin' us how." 
 
 "Well," I said, "you boys ought to be able tc do your 
 own bouncing. Bounce Harkinson out. How many 
 fellows have you, Briggen?" 
 
 "Fourteen." 
 
 "That's about one more than you need to whip 
 Harkinson, don't you think?" 
 
 "Plenty, if it weren't for something else. He's 
 queer. He ain't like other kids. We could lick him 
 if he was. But he's odd." 
 
 "What do you mean? Just what do you call odd?" 
 90
 
 HAWKINS DONS THE GLOVES 
 
 Briggen stopped at my question and gazed around 
 at the faces of my boys standing behind us. Then he 
 said: 
 
 "I guess you guys don't believe in such stuff, but 
 Harkinson's got a gift. He hypnotizes you when you 
 look at him." 
 
 "That's right," said Ham Gardner, in a nervous 
 whisper; "he hypnotizes me. I got to do what he tells 
 me. I ain't able to say no to him, Hawkins. Listen: 
 You been good to me, Hawkins. I ain't never had nothin' 
 agin you. You will help us chase this Harkinson out, 
 won't you?" 
 
 Now, even though Ham Gardner is a Pelham fellow, 
 I always had a kind of a pity for him anyway, because 
 he is a simple sort of a boy, and the only reason he has 
 got into so much trouble at times is because he is in with 
 the Pelham crowd and is a chum of Briggen's. So I 
 told him we would help, but they would have to do their 
 own part. This idea of Harkinson's hypnotizing eyes 
 was no joke as far as I knew, because I always felt the 
 same way about him whenever I was under his strange 
 eyes. 
 
 So the Pelham committee went back with their 
 white flag and some instructions that I had given. 
 That night was the time we decided on. They were 
 to give us the sign. The signal was to be a rocket taken 
 from the left-over odds and ends of our Fourth of July 
 celebration. I had found four of them in the wooden 
 camp chest, and these I gave to Ham, telling him the 
 first might not go off, and he better take several. 
 
 We ate an early supper and then talked over our 
 plans, after which we sang songs in front of the tent 
 till it got dark. All of us boys knew what was to be 
 done, and each knew what part he was to play. Dark- 
 
 91
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 ness came while we sang, and though we continued 
 singing to throw off any suspicion Harkinson might 
 have had, we watched the sky over the other end of the 
 island for the signal. But it was slow coming. We had 
 to stop our singing, because we had sung all we knew, 
 and we were beginning to think that Ham Gardner's 
 plans had been discovered, and that Harkinson had got 
 wise. But then came the long snaky flash of sparks in 
 the sky as the rocket went up. In a minute we were all 
 headed for the stockade. 
 
 Ham Gardner and Dave Burns were there to meet 
 us, the gate open, and everything as quiet as could be. 
 "He's asleep," whispered Ham. We quietly hurried 
 into the log house. Harkinson lay upon a blanket. 
 Quickly we pulled forth the long rope we had brought. 
 But Harkinson was queer. How could we fool him? 
 Even in his sleep he seemed to be able to read our 
 minds. With a roar he jumped from his pallet and 
 leaped upon Bill Darby, who was just passing the rope 
 to Harold and me. 
 
 "What's this?" he yelled. "What do you think 
 you're doing?" 
 
 Nobody attempted to answer him. Nobody could. 
 The dim light from the oil lamp on the side wall threw 
 a hard glitter into Harkinson's eyes as he gazed at us. 
 His hard look came full upon me and his mouth twisted 
 into a sneer as he said : 
 
 "Ah, it's you again, is it? Well, now I'll teach you 
 a lesson that will last you, I think." 
 
 I admit I was trembling, nervous, and I tried to 
 think quickly, but again I was held by those eyes of 
 his. It was his swift movement toward me that al- 
 lowed me to snatch my gaze away from his face, and I 
 centered my eyes upon his chin, and then I stepped 
 
 92
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 back and pulled one of the tricks that Will's boxing 
 lessons had taught me. When he struck, his fist passed 
 my head just by a fraction, while I, still holding my 
 gaze upon his chin, pretended to go for him with my 
 left, but as he snarled and pulled over to avoid it I 
 sent my right cracking to that chin oh, boy, how my 
 knuckles hurt! To see him fall was my great surprise. 
 I never believed I could have put enough strength into 
 a blow that would drop a big husky like that. But Will 
 Standish was upon him in a flash, and Ham Gardner 
 and Briggen and Dave in fact, all the Pelhams were 
 on top of their former leader. But it was Will, anyhow, 
 who turned the trick. He had the sense to use his 
 handkerchief for a bandage with which he blindfolded 
 Harkinson. I only noticed that after I had bound 
 his feet with the rope and started to bind his wrists. 
 "Good boy," I said to Will. "Stand back, fellows; no 
 need to be afraid of his eyes now." 
 
 There we had him at last, standing before us, bound 
 hand and foot, unable to move, and his eyes blind- 
 folded. He strained some at his ropes first, but gave 
 it up, although he rained down upon us all the harsh 
 names and abuse he could think of. The boys fell back 
 now, while I sat myself down on one of the Pelham's 
 camp stools, and Will and Jerry Moore stood ready on 
 either side of our captive. 
 
 "Harkinson," I said, "this is the end of your bully- 
 ragging. There is only one thing to do with you, and 
 that is to turn you over to the she"riff for beating up 
 these poor kids. What do you say?" 
 
 He did not reply. "Well," I continued, "you've 
 got one chance to escape the sheriff: If you promise 
 to stay away promise, I mean and never bother the 
 
 94
 
 HAWKINS DONS THE GLOVES 
 
 Pelhams or us again we will let you go back to your 
 own place and your own pals." 
 
 The Pelham fellows objected. "Don't trust him," 
 said Briggen; "he ain't no good to his word, Hawkins. 
 Let the sheriff take him before Judge Granbery. He 
 ain't had no right to whip my boys like he did." 
 
 But I did not want that. I knew that every time 
 Judge Granbery heard of us having trouble with a 
 stranger we always got the blame for it, anyway. So I 
 said again: 
 
 "Harkinson knows we will not allow him down here 
 again. He knows that we are able to catch him some- 
 how, and if we catch him once more " 
 
 "I'll go," said Harkinson in a thick, coarse voice. 
 "I ain't no fool. I make a bargain and keep it. You 
 got the drop on me." 
 
 So after we got Briggen to agree that it was best 
 not to make any fuss over it, we let Harkinson go. 
 That is, we saw to it that he went back. I asked Briggen 
 if he knew the meeting place of Harkinson's pals, and he 
 said he did. It was up in Watertown, in the shack in 
 the alley where we had first seen Three-Finger Fred. 
 So I said that Briggen and some of his fellows would 
 have to take him up in Harkinson's green skiff and 
 leave him bound where some of his pals would find him. 
 For I would not risk setting Harkinson free to go back 
 by himself. You see, we would have had to remove the 
 blindfold from his eyes, .so that he could go, and if he 
 could have had the chance to turn those eyes toward 
 us again he might have held us all spellbound while he 
 compelled us to do as he wished. I wasn't taking any 
 chances with Harkinson.
 
 X 
 
 The End of Vacation 
 
 MAYBE we should not have given Briggen and 
 his Pelhams the job of taking Harkinson back 
 to Watertown. I think that is where we made 
 our big mistake. But, no matter now; it's done, and 
 there is no use of crying over spilled milk. But anyway, 
 I am sure that Harkinson started to talk to those Pel- 
 ham fellows while they were rowing him back. I think 
 he talked all around them, and I believe that before 
 they reached the wharf at Watertown he had induced 
 them to be partners with him again. I say I think 
 this is so. I don't know for certain, because I was not 
 with them, and Briggen did not come back to tell me 
 how everything went. 
 
 The next morning we saw a steamboat coming up 
 the river. Doc Waters, who had come down to our 
 camp before we had breakfast, asked me if I could tell 
 what boat she was. "The Hudson Lee," I said. "Hail 
 her, then," said Doc. "I want to talk to Captain Lee." 
 
 We hailed the boat while she was a quarter of a mile 
 off. She sighted us, and the mate, standing on the 
 rail, yelled "All right!" through a megaphone. We saw 
 the boat turn slowly out of the channel and push her 
 nose into the still water near the shore. At the same 
 time a gangplank was lowered. Doc ran forward to 
 meet the captain, who is a fine man and a friend of his. 
 While they were talking all of us boys gathered around 
 the gangplank, down which there came two boys about 
 our age and a girl. 
 
 96
 
 THE END OF VACATION 
 
 The first boy I recognized. It was Hudson Lee, son 
 of the captain of the boat. The other boy was a smart- 
 looking chap, but I had never before seen him. The 
 girl, too, I knew. It was Rosalind Lee, sister of Hudson. 
 She spied out the Skinny Guy and ran forward. 
 
 "Oh, aren't you Link Lambert?" she cried taking 
 his hands and smiling up into his face. "Yes, I know 
 you are. You're the boy who fished my rag doll out of 
 the river when I was a very little girl." 
 
 Link blushed, but smiled as he replied: 
 
 "Yeah, I remember. But you're not such a big girl 
 now. Seems like you haven't grown much." 
 
 "I like that," said Rosalind, pouting. "I am ever 
 so much bigger. But I could never forget you. I al- 
 ways told daddy I wanted to come and see you 
 again." 
 
 The other boys had a notion that Rosalind did not 
 see them at all; indeed, she acted as if there was no 
 one there but Link. And so, grinning and whispering, 
 they all moved back to where I stood with Hudson 
 Lee and his companion. 
 
 "You're Seckatary Hawkins," said Hudson Lee, 
 shaking my hand. "It's been some time since we met, 
 but I suppose you can remember me." 
 
 "I do," I said, smiling. "I've always had a wish 
 to see you again, but your daddy's boat does not often 
 stop at our old wharf any more." 
 
 "No," laughed Hudson, "but then I don't ride in it 
 often, either. He's sent me away to school the last two 
 years. I seldom get this far up the river. Come up 
 here, Shadow. I want you to meet Seckatary Hawkins." 
 
 This last he said to his handsome companion. He 
 stepped up and shook my hand. 
 
 "Shadow Loomis," said Hudson Lee with a smile, 
 
 7 97
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "the real, genuine Shadow Loomis you've heard so much 
 about." 
 
 "Glad to know you, Seckatary Hawkins," he said, 
 gripping my hand. I returned the compliment, but I 
 felt like telling Hudson Lee I hadn't heard much about 
 Shadow Loomis; in fact, I had never heard of him 
 before now. 
 
 "Shadow is the most wonderful magician you ever 
 saw," said Hudson Lee. "You should see him do some 
 of his tricks. Pull one for Hawkins now, Shadow." 
 
 Shadow stooped suddenly and patted my pockets as 
 though he were feeling for something. It amused me. 
 
 "You've got it somewhere," he said to me. "See 
 if it's in that pocket." 
 
 "Where?" I put my hand to the pocket he was 
 pointing at, and of a sudden I got quite a shock. I 
 felt something moving something soft and warm, 
 and I grasped it and pulled it out of my pocket. It was 
 a white rat. "For the love of Mike," I said. All the 
 other boys laughed. 
 
 "Come on," said Shadow Loomis, "his brother is 
 there, too. Get him out for me; that's a good fellow." 
 
 I couldn't believe him, even though I had pulled 
 one out of my pocket, but anyway, to be sociable, I 
 put my hand again in my pocket. Then I cried : "You're 
 wrong this time. Pocket empty. See?" I turned it 
 inside out. Shadow Loomis shook his head. "He's in 
 there somewhere," he said. "My pets always travel 
 two by two never go out alone. Wait; let's see. Some- 
 times they take the wrong way and get lost; might be 
 back here " 
 
 All this time he was talking and shoving his hands 
 into my pockets, but I grinned, for I felt that he was 
 going to be mistaken this one time, when all of a sudden 
 
 98
 
 THE END OF VACATION 
 
 I felt a scratching down my back, and as I did so Shadow 
 Loomis shoved his hand down behind my collar and 
 brought up another white rat. "I told you so," he said, 
 smiling, "always two by two, never go out alone." 
 
 "Well, I be dern," said Jerry Moore. "Say, boy, 
 where'd you learn those tricks?" 
 
 Shadow Loomis and Hudson Lee laughed and we all 
 joined in. 
 
 "Come natural," said Shadow. "Never takes me 
 long to find out anything. Now, just like that stuff 
 you've got in your pocket there. It's there, and yet you 
 would say it isn't. I don't mind agreeing with you that 
 it would be silly for a fellow to carry around a pocketful 
 of stuff like that, but there's no explaining why people 
 do some things. Throw it out and be done with it." 
 
 Jerry shoved his hand into his pocket and drew it 
 out quickly. It was covered with flour. For a mo- 
 ment he gazed at the white fingers, and then he blurted 
 out: 
 
 "That's Roy Dobel's tomfooling. He better quit 
 wasting the camp's flour. Hey, you, Roy!" 
 
 Roy, who was working around the cookstove up by 
 the kitchen tent, turned when he heard his name and 
 called out, "What you want?" 
 
 Shadow Loomis laid his hand on Jerry's arm and 
 said: "Excuse me if I hurt your feelings. It was only 
 a little fun. Roy didn't do it, you can take my word. 
 I'll teach you the trick some day, and then you can play 
 it on Roy." 
 
 Jerry seemed to be satisfied and turned his pocket 
 inside out and a lot of flour poured out upon the ground. 
 Shadow Loomis put his pet rats into his own pockets. 
 I noticed that he had big pockets, and some of them in 
 the lining of his coat, where he carried his tricks, I sup- 
 
 99
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 pose. The boys were all very much interested and 
 amused at Shadow Loomis's tricks, and we took them 
 all through our camp, which interested them very much. 
 They seemed to think our experiences with Harkinson, 
 which I related to them, were the best kind of ad- 
 venture, and Hudson Lee said he would give anything 
 if he could have been with us on some of those times. 
 Shadow Loomis said he should like to meet this Har- 
 kinson. I told him he would be better off if he let Har- 
 kinson alone. At which Shadow Loomis just smiled, 
 and I thought to myself maybe Shadow could put over 
 a few of his magic tricks on Harkinson that would 
 scare the big bully enough to last him a long time. 
 
 Link had been sitting by Rosalind Lee during all 
 this talk, never noticing us at all. Rosalind was a very 
 cheerful little girl, and I don't blame Link for feeling 
 proud because she gave him such fine compliments. 
 But their little chat was brought to an end when Doc 
 Waters and Captain Lee came forward. "All aboard, 
 boys," called Captain Lee. We all walked down to the 
 gangplank with them. Doc and the Captain were talk- 
 ing about a launch or a motorboat of some kind. 
 
 "It's in running order, all right," Doc was saying, 
 "but I don't want a single soul to touch her wheel till 
 the boy gets her. It's a sort of a fancy his mother had, 
 and I want to do everything the way she wants." 
 
 "All right, Doctor," laughed the Captain, "I'll tow 
 her down just as they hand her over to me, and not a 
 foot shall step aboard her till the boy gets her. Come 
 along, youngsters. Good-by, Doctor." 
 
 We watched them until the steamboat turned the 
 upper bend. The two boys and Rosalind hung to her 
 stern rail, waving at us until they were out of sight. 
 Then we turned again to the tent. 
 
 100
 
 101
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "What's the launch business about, Doc?" I asked. 
 
 "Oh, you'll see in time," said Doc, with a grin. 
 
 Link stood there on the shore with his arms folded 
 watching the bend where the steamer had disappeared. 
 
 "She's gone, Link," I said. 
 
 "She sure is a beauty," he said. 
 
 "Oh, Rosalind, yes. I was speaking of the steamer," 
 I said. 
 
 "So was I," retorted Link, but he blushed just the 
 same. 
 
 I just couldn't help teasing him a little about the 
 girl. But when the other boys tried it I put a stop to 
 it at once. I might joke with my Skinny Guy a little, 
 but nobody else was going to do it while I was around. 
 
 "We will break camp to-morrow, Hawkins," said 
 Doc to me. "Have the boys get things ready." 
 
 I broke the news to the boys, and they seemed well 
 satisfied to go back home. We had had a good vacation 
 on the island, and about all the camp life we wanted, 
 to say nothing of the excitement Harkinson had given 
 us. By nighttime we had all things packed except cots 
 and bedding. And early next morning we set to work 
 packing that. 
 
 It was about noon when the Hudson Lee turned the 
 bend up the river on return trip. I noticed that she was 
 towing something, and when she came nearer I saw that 
 it was a large motorboat, the hull painted green and 
 white, but her upper was covered entirely with a tar- 
 paulin, showing only a fancy bit of her cabin roof. The 
 steamboat landed in the same old spot and we all ran 
 down to meet her. 
 
 Captain Lee came ashore, followed by the two 
 boys and Rosalind, and greeted Doc and us boys heartily. 
 Some of the helpers from the steamboat uncovered the 
 
 102
 
 THE END OF VACATION 
 
 motor boat, and what a beauty she was! Why, it was 
 a regular little river yacht, and I bet she cost close to 
 a thousand. Upon her white bows I read the name 
 Cazanova. 
 
 "It's a surprise, Link," said Doc Waters to the Skinny 
 Guy, who stood looking at it with a smile upon his thin 
 face. "Your mother had it made for you. She didn't 
 want me to tell. So I didn't. And she didn't want a 
 soul to go aboard until you took hold of the wheel. 
 So there she is, boy, and I hope you like her." 
 
 "Like her!" Link cried. Then he sprang into the 
 boat with a light step and ran forward to the little 
 wheelhouse. He grasped the spokes and turned to us. 
 "It's all right now," he called. "I've got hold of the 
 wheel, and you can all come in." 
 
 It was a beauty. We never got through praising 
 her. And if Roy hadn't called "lunch" we probably 
 would have stayed in her all day. But our visitors 
 stayed to lunch with us and during the afternoon Hudson 
 Lee and Shadow Loomis joined us in a game of ball, 
 while Rosalind looked on. I think Link batted the ball 
 better that afternoon than he ever did in his life. 
 
 Meanwhile Captain Lee had his men pack our 
 belongings into the big launch, which could have carried 
 twice as much. Then his mechanics tested her out and 
 found that the Cazanova was in perfect running order. 
 Will Standish offered to run her back home for us, and 
 to teach Link how to run the launch. Will has a beauty 
 of his own, and he is an expert at running one, as Link 
 and I both knew. 
 
 I hopped off long enough to tell Hudson Lee and 
 Shadow Loomis that I wanted them to come up to our 
 clubhouse some time. They promised to come when 
 they had a chance. They helped us stow the canoes on 
 
 103
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 the top deck of the big launch, and we shook hands 
 all around, and then it was "All aboard!" 
 
 And thus we left our camping ground and went back 
 to our own shore. The boys all crowded forward to the 
 wheelhouse, watching Will Standish, but I went back 
 in the stern and sat with Doc, who was peacefully 
 smoking a fat cigar, watching the steamboat pull away 
 from the island and start on her trip down. 
 
 104
 
 XI 
 
 Link's Farewell Party 
 
 WE WERE all glad to get back to our home 
 shore again. We had had enough of camping, 
 and it was good to be back in our club house in 
 the hollow. We held a meeting there the morning after 
 we came home. Every boy answered to his name when 
 Dick called the roll. Soon and it would be different; 
 only a few more meetings, and there would be four fellows 
 who would not be there to answer when their names 
 were called. For Oliver and Harold, the twins, were 
 going back to their fancy school in Massachusetts, and 
 Link and Will Standish were going to the new home 
 that Link's mother and daddy had bought down in the 
 blue grass. Will Standish was to live with Link's folks 
 until his father would come to take him back to Cuba. 
 Link made a speech at that meeting. Yes, sir! I 
 never knew the Skinny Guy to have the nerve to do it. 
 But since he has come back out of Cuba Link is changed 
 a good deal. He keeps his hair cut, for one thing. 
 You would hardly know him; be is a pretty good-looking 
 kid when he's dressed up. He used to look something 
 like a clown when we first met him, with his hair curling 
 up behind his ears and that everlasting grin on his thin 
 face. But that was a different Link from the one we 
 know now. 
 
 "Boys," he said, "I don't make good speeches, but 
 I felt like I ought to tell you boys how much I thank 
 you for all the things you did for me since I came to 
 this river. I'm sorry I've got to go, and I wish you all 
 
 105
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 could come along, but that can't be, I reckon. But you 
 boys will come down to my house and see me some time 
 and we will have lots of fun. Doc Waters is going to 
 give a farewell party, he told me yesterday. All of you 
 boys have got to be present. It's going to be in my new 
 launch. We will have a good time, I guess; you know 
 Doc Waters. Ice cream and cakes and candy and 
 everything." 
 
 The boys cheered Link, and he blushed as he took 
 his seat. If there is anything the boys like it's parties 
 Doc Waters fixes up. The last one we had was the day 
 before Link and I started for Cuba. 
 
 After the boys had gone out to the swimming hole, 
 Link came to me as I was writing in my little office 
 back of the clubroom. 
 
 "Hawkins," he says, "I'd like to invite some friends 
 of mine to the party. Do you think the boys would 
 feel like it was butting in?" 
 
 "Lord, no!" I exclaimed. "It's your party, Link. 
 You don't have to ask anybody whom you shall invite." 
 
 "Well, then, I want to ask Hudson Lee and Shadow 
 Loomis." 
 
 "And Rosalind." 
 
 "Yes, of course, Rosalind. Hudson and Shadow are 
 fine boys, don't you think so, Hawkins?" 
 
 "They don't come any better. And Rosalind is " 
 
 "Then I'll invite the three of 'em," interrupted 
 Link. "I'll have Doc send a message." 
 
 I smiled as I watched Link walk down the path 
 toward the river. I knew that Link liked little Rosalind 
 Lee because she thought so much of him for fishing her 
 rag doll out of the river some years ago. It was only that 
 he wanted to see her once more before he went away 
 that he thought about inviting her brother and Shadow 
 
 106
 
 LINK'S FAREWELL PARTY 
 
 Loomis. I imagine Link would not have grieved very 
 much if Hudson was unable to attend as long as his 
 pretty little sister would be there. I told the other 
 boys that if they cared to bring any of their sisters to 
 the party it would be all right, as we were going to have 
 a regular party, and we might as well do it first class. 
 And I knew Rosalind would like it better if there were 
 other girls there. I explained it to Doc Waters, and he 
 said it was a good idea. 
 
 I wonder why it was I felt so sure that we had 
 nothing more to fear from Harkinson? Since I had 
 sent him back to Watertown with the Pelham leaders 
 I felt safe. It was only when Harold came into my 
 little writing-room one morning that I began to wonder 
 if the bully with the queer eyes was really gone from 
 our shore. 
 
 "You seem to think he will obey you like a lamb," 
 said Harold to me, "and I think he is only watching 
 for a chance to get even with us. You, in particular, 
 Hawkins. He never can forget that last punch you 
 gave him, and even if it wasn't for that, he surely felt 
 awfully cheap when you turned the tables on him and 
 made him do as you wished." 
 
 "You think he is back here, then?" I asked. 
 
 "I don't say that," answered Harold, "but it is wise 
 to keep a lookout for him. He may show up when 
 you least expect him. And, believe me, when he does 
 he will not come single-handed. He has followers, you 
 can bet. Now, this party: What's to attract him more 
 than the bright lights of a launch in which there is a 
 gay time going on?" 
 
 I thought of it more the morning of the day on which 
 we were to have the party. The boys had come from 
 
 107
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 Doc Waters's office with a basketful of Japanese lan- 
 terns, which they strung around the clubhouse porch 
 and a line of them down to the water's edge. Yes, 
 there would be plenty to attract if not Harkinson, 
 then Pelham. We never yet had any kind of doings of 
 the kind without a little skirmish with the Pelham 
 fellows. 
 
 "You and I will keep a watch," I said to Harold. 
 "Best that we say nothing to the others. It would 
 would only make them all nervous, and how could 
 they enjoy a party if they expected the coming of such 
 a fellow as Harkinson?" 
 
 "It's the best way," said Harold. 
 
 That afternoon we had a game of ball, and it was 
 hardly finished when there came the sound of the 
 steamboat whistle of the Hudson Lee every boy can 
 tell you what steamboat is passing by the sound of her 
 whistle. Every whistle sounds different, and you get 
 to know each boat by the whistle. Well, we knew this 
 was the Hudson Lee. 
 
 We all ran down to meet the big boat, for it was 
 bringing back the three friends Link had invited to his 
 party. Link's new motor boat lay tied up at our little 
 wharf, and the steamer had to slow up and wait until 
 we moved the new boat out of her way. Only one boat 
 can land at our little wharf at one time. Will Standish 
 saw that the big steamer waited, and he sprang into the 
 launch and took her up the river a piece, where he held 
 her steady until the Hudson Lee had made the landing. 
 Then he brought the Cazanova alongside the steamboat 
 and made her fast. 
 
 The first one off the steamer's gangplank was Shadow 
 Loomis. He looked happy as he came running to us. 
 "Hello!" he yelled; "I'm back again with a bundle of 
 
 108
 
 LINK'S FAREWELL PARTY 
 
 new tricks. No rats, though." Then he turned to 
 Jerry Moore and said: "No more flour in pockets, 
 either." 
 
 "Where's Hudson?" I asked. "Hope he didn't 
 disappoint us." 
 
 "Oh, no," replied Shadow, "he is on deck. He's 
 not allowed to leave the boat till Rosalind is ready. 
 She's been taking a nap since we started, and she just 
 woke up. She's putting on her new dress, I think. 
 There's Huddy now. Poor kid, his pop always makes 
 him wait till Rosalind is ready to come on shore." 
 
 Hudson had come to the rail of the cabin deck and 
 saluted us boys. We all saluted back. 
 
 "Shore ahoy!" he yelled. "What's hi the wind, 
 Hawkins?" 
 
 "Come and see," I shouted back. 
 
 At that moment Rosalind came out of her cabin, 
 and within a few minutes both of them came down 
 the gangplank to join us. 
 
 "Hello, Hawkins," sang out Hudson, as he came up 
 and held out his hand. He was the greatest boy for 
 shaking hands I ever knew. But I liked him. "I didn't 
 expect to be back so soon, old Seckatary." 
 
 "Glad you came," I said. 
 
 "Sure," said he, "and so is Shadow. Ever since he 
 met you, Hawkins, he has been wanting to come back. 
 I've been telling him about your Pelham enemies across 
 the river." 
 
 "Lead me to 'em," said Shadow, with a grin. "If I 
 don't scare every one of 'em into fits I'm a monkey." 
 
 "I wish you could," I said, laughing at the funny 
 way he spoke. "Believe me, Shadow, there are times 
 when we could use you. We can't do any of those magic 
 tricks that you know. So all we can do is to turn the 
 
 109
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 trick with our fists, if we are able. And sometimes we 
 get the worst of that, too." 
 
 Shadow walked down a little way so that he could 
 look beyond the steamboat and get a view of Pelham. 
 
 "Dirty looking place," he said. "Like a rat's nest. 
 Look there: a boat is pulling away from the river. 
 Who's that cross-looking kid with the green cap?" 
 
 "That's Briggen," I answered. "He's the leader of 
 Pelham." 
 
 "Huh," grunted Shadow. "I bet he's a tough 
 customer. Look! I believe they're pulling for this 
 side. Yes, they're coming here, all right. Now I'll 
 get a chance to hear how these birds talk. Step up 
 here, Hawkins. They won't want to talk to me." 
 
 While we waited for the Pelham boat I glanced 
 around and saw Captain Lee and another officer of the 
 steamboat walking up the river path toward Doc 
 Waters's house, and following them went the Skinny 
 Guy and little Rosalind, talking and laughing as they 
 went. Rosalind seemed to be very proud of her new 
 party dress, and from the way Link nodded his head I 
 imagined he was telling her it was a very beautiful 
 dress indeed. 
 
 When I turned my eyes back to the river the Pelham 
 flat boat was pulling sharply around the paddle-wheel of 
 the big steamer. Briggen sat, arms folded, in the stern, 
 while Ham Gardner and Dave Burns handled the oars. 
 I walked down to meet them and Shadow Loomis walked 
 beside me. Jerry kept the other boys up on the bank. 
 Briggen leaped out of the boat and came up. 
 
 "Who's the new guy?" he asked, nodding his head 
 toward Shadow Loomis. "Tell him to clear out. I got 
 to talk to you private, Hawkins." 
 
 110
 
 LINK'S FAREWELL PARTY 
 
 I followed Briggen over to the bushes on the side of 
 the path. 
 
 "Well?" I said. 
 
 "I come to ask you," began Briggen in a low voice, 
 "what you guys are up to now. Our watchman saw 
 you, all right. I can't figger out your game, Hawkins. 
 If you think us boys double-crossed you " 
 
 "Nonsense," I broke in. "You're talking foolish. 
 As long as you fellows stay on your side of the river we 
 have nothing against you." 
 
 "We will stay on our side as long as you guys stay 
 on yours," said Briggen. 
 
 "I think we have been staying pretty close to our 
 shore," I said, "and I know none of us have been over 
 there since we came back from camp." 
 
 "Well, then, who has? Lanigan saw 'em, and he 
 don't lie to me. There was a bunch of 'em last night 
 spying around. If it wasn't your fellas, who was it?" 
 
 "Harkinson," I answered; "him and his pals." 
 
 Briggen's face faded a little and his jaw dropped. 
 "You mean it?" he asked. "You mean that hypnotizer 
 come back ?" 
 
 "Briggen," I said, "I am going to warn you boys to 
 keep your eyes open. I haven't seen him, no. That's 
 the worst part of it. I wish I had. You know what he 
 is. If you find out anything us boys will help you out 
 if you need help. But you better lay low and keep out 
 of the way. Now go back. I don't want to talk to you. 
 I've got company to-day." 
 
 That night we had the party. It was a fine affair. 
 Doc Waters brought down old Judge Granbery and the 
 Sheriff, Link's daddy and mother, and old Abner Green, 
 
 111
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 the colored servant, who was to prepare the feast. We 
 had the clubhouse lighted with lanterns, and from the 
 porch down to the steamboat there streamed a long line 
 of colored lights that made the place look bright and 
 cheery. Lew Hunter brought the preacher, and when 
 those grown-up folks met in our clubhouse they seemed 
 to enjoy it as much as we did. Bill Darby brought his 
 sister Lillian and Jerry Moore's sisters Ella and Grace 
 came with him. They all seemed to like Rosalind very 
 much. This was the first party we had to which girls 
 had been invited since the Valentine Day when Link 
 fished Rosalind's doll out of the river and sent it to her 
 as a valentine. You remember that? Well, it seemed 
 odd to have girls in our clubhouse; but they thought 
 it was just grand. 
 
 We had to sing, of course : Judge Granbery demanded 
 that. So Lew had to get up to the organ, and we stood 
 around and let the Judge have every song we knew. 
 The old Judge sat with his eyes half closed and a smile 
 on his face while we sang. Doc looked proud of us boys. 
 Link's mother listened with a happy face, and often I 
 saw her hand steal to her cheek and brush her eye- 
 lashes. 
 
 Then the girls had their little speeches to make, too. 
 All of them could recite. Such nice, sad pieces. Every- 
 body clapped their hands. I was glad when I saw the 
 dusky face of Abner in the doorway, whispering for 
 Doc. Old Abner was all decked out in a white suit 
 like a waiter. "It's all ready, suh," he whispered to 
 Doc. "De table am set 'n ev'athing." 
 
 Then we all followed Doc down to Link's new launch 
 that lay on the river like a fairy house, its bright lights 
 shining through the little windows onto the water like 
 streams of gold. It was a happy party that followed the 
 
 112
 
 LINK'S FAREWELL PARTY 
 
 lines of hanging lanterns down to that new boat of 
 Link's. And when we entered we saw before us the 
 whole length of the main cabin a long table, set for two 
 dozen persons, ice cream, cakes, candy, all kinds of 
 goodies oh, boy! 
 
 But it was a hot night. I had not been in there 
 long before I felt as though I just had to have a breath 
 of that cool river breeze. So, while everybody was 
 laughing and talking, I slipped out unnoticed. I went 
 out the front door onto the deck and turned and walked 
 around the cabin toward the rear. I was hoping Shadow 
 Loomis would take a notion to come outside, as I would 
 like to sit out here and talk with him a while. But I 
 could see him as I looked through the window, and he 
 was so interested in the ice cream and Bill Darby's 
 sister Lillian that I knew he was going to stay as long 
 as the party lasted. I had just noticed that there was 
 another vacant chair at the table inside, when I bumped 
 against someone in the dark. 
 
 "Good Lord!" I exclaimed with a sudden fright. 
 "Who is it?" 
 
 "Hush, Hawkins," came Harold's voice. "What 
 brought you out here?" 
 
 "The heat," I said. "It's too hot in there. I've got 
 to have air or I die." 
 
 "Sit down," said Harold, pulling a deck chair up 
 beside his. It was more of a campstool than a deck 
 chair, except that it had a back to it. I sat down and 
 leaned back. "Now," said Harold, "this is fine. Bully 
 breeze on the river." 
 
 "Something else beside breeze," I said. "Look 
 yonder at Pelham. It seems as though our neighbors 
 across the water are anxious to find out what our feast- 
 ing is about." 
 
 8 113
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 Harold bent forward and peered through the dark 
 toward Pelham. There was no moon, and the light 
 from the windows of the boat made it seem darker over 
 the side. A few lights were moving here and there on 
 the Pelham shore. It was too dark to make out who 
 carried the lanterns. There seemed to come to me once 
 the sound of an oar splash which sounded very near our 
 boat. I told Harold of Briggen's visit in the afternoon. 
 He looked very interested. He turned to me, and I 
 could see, even in the darkness there that his face had 
 a worried look. 
 
 "Hawkins," he said, in a low voice, "I am going 
 to leave to-morrow, and so is Ollie and Link and Will 
 Standish. It will leave you with only a few boys " 
 
 'Til manage," I said. "I'll get by. There's only 
 one thing that worries me." 
 
 "Harkinson?" 
 
 "Yes, I seem to feel that he has come back, Harold. 
 I believe he is here. I can feel it. I would not be sur- 
 prised if " 
 
 Harold clapped his hand over my mouth and cut 
 off my words. There was a sound below us on the 
 water. We rose silently from our chairs and backed 
 close to the wall of the cabin and held our breath. The 
 light from a window of the boat streamed upon the rail 
 in a yellow patch. While we watched we saw a hand 
 raise itself over the gunwale. We stood there, crouching, 
 as though we were unable to move. I knew that hand 
 that was grasping our gunwale. It told me that before 
 another minute passed we would be facing the one we 
 feared would come. 
 
 The next moment Harold moved. In a flash he 
 came back with a wooden pin that had been set in the 
 rail, with a light coil of rope wound around it. He 
 
 114
 
 WHILE VF WAKHFP, A HAM17 l?AtSrP 
 
 115
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 raised it swiftly and brought it down twice in rapid 
 succession upon the ugly big hand that grasped our 
 gunwale. It disappeared, and we heard a splash in the 
 water below. 
 
 Without looking to see, we hurried inside the boat 
 just as good-nights were being said. No one seemed to 
 have missed us. We said nothing. 
 
 116
 
 XII 
 
 The Red Runners 
 
 SCHOOL had opened again, and we were all 
 busy with our studies. No longer could we 
 meet every morning in the little clubhouse in 
 the hollow. From now on until next summer we would 
 have to hold our regular meetings each day after school. 
 Link Lambert and Will Standish had gone and so had 
 the twins, Oliver and Harold. There were only eight 
 of us left now Dick Ferris, Lew Hunter, Bill Darby, 
 Jerry Moore, Johnny McLarren, Roy Dobel, Perry 
 Stokes, and myself. 
 
 I had not told any of the boys about the fellow who 
 tried to climb aboard the new launch the night we had 
 the party. Neither had Harold. I did not want them 
 to think that we might have to put up with Harkinson 
 again. But it did worry me. When Link or Harold 
 was with me I always felt as though I had somebody 
 whom I could depend upon to help me watch out for 
 such fellows as Harkinson and the Pelham boys. But 
 I was worried now, because I felt sure we would receive 
 some sort of a visit from Harkmson sometime, and 
 there was I alone to figure out a way to beat him at his 
 own game. I tried to get Jerry Moore and Bill Darby 
 interested enough, but they seemed interested only 
 enough to be afraid. So I thought of one fellow who 
 used to be a great side partner to me Robby Hood! 
 If I could only get him down here with us again he could 
 do a lot for us. He was a boy who could think, and 
 who did think when time came for hard thinking. I 
 called Perry Stokes into my little writing-room adjoin- 
 
 117
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 ing the clubhouse and asked him if he knew where 
 Robby lived. 
 
 "Yes, sir," he answered. "In Watertown, by the 
 little bridge." 
 
 "Take this note to him," I said, "and put it in his 
 hands. Don't give it to anybody but Robby. If you 
 can't find him, bring the note back to me." 
 
 Perry set off with the note. I wrote Robby that I 
 wanted to talk to him, and that I would wait for him 
 in the clubhouse until he came. It was after school 
 when Perry started off with a canoe for Watertown. 
 We held our meeting, and then the boys went out for 
 the usual game of ball. I joined and played for an 
 hour, and then went up to my little writing-room to 
 finish a letter I was writing to Uncle Lucio. 
 
 Hah* an hour later Perry came in. He had made the 
 trip very fast, and I could tell by his heavy breathing 
 and the perspiration on his face that he had paddled 
 fast. 
 
 "Well," I said, "did you find him?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," answered Perry. "I gave him your note, 
 Hawkins." 
 
 "Well," I said, "I guess he has a good reason for not 
 wanting to come. What did he say?" 
 
 "Oh, he is coming, sir," said Perry. "He told me 
 to say that he could not come while it was daylight. 
 Said he would come right after supper. He wants 
 you to be waiting for him here." 
 
 "All right. What else did he say?" 
 
 "He asked me about you, how you looked since you 
 got back, and how you liked Cuba. I couldn't answer 
 all his questions, Hawkins. I told him you would tell 
 him everything when he came down here." 
 
 "Where did you find him, Perry?" 
 118
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "He was in his workshop, sir. He has a nice shed 
 behind his father's factory. He makes all kinds of 
 things. He has a wonderful workbench and fine tools. 
 He's built a motor boat. You should see it. It's a 
 beauty." 
 
 "All right, Perry. You did fine. Thanks for going." 
 
 "Don't mention it, sir." 
 
 Perry ran out to join the boys, and I finished my 
 letter and sealed it up, and then called the boys. It 
 was growing dark and time for them to be going home. 
 I told them I would be down at the clubhouse after 
 supper if any of them cared to come down. I had the 
 key these days, and no one was allowed in the clubhouse 
 unless I was around to keep an eye on them. Dick 
 had asked me to keep the key. Dick was a good Cap- 
 tain, but he always felt a little bit afraid that he couldn't 
 manage things to suit us boys. He had been elected 
 Captain more than a year ago, and he always tried to 
 keep the boys together and out of mischief; but when 
 it came to anything outside of the regular meeting La 
 the clubhouse Dick always came for advice. 
 
 So when we had returned from our camp on the island 
 Dick had asked me to keep the key of the clubhouse. 
 Our exciting adventures on the island were enough to 
 make Dick understand that trouble from Harkinson 
 might come again. Dick was a smart boy. 
 
 Perry was out at the gate waiting for me when I 
 finished my supper and started down to the clubhouse 
 in the hollow. He had taken a liking to me, Perry had, 
 and he always tried to show me that he was glad that 
 he was allowed to be in our club. So I walked with him 
 down the river path and unlocked the clubhouse and lit 
 the lamps. I took the rifle out of the cupboard and 
 handed it to Perry. 
 
 119
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "Here," I said, "y u 'U have to be watchman for 
 me, Perry. This gun isn't to shoot with, you under- 
 stand. It's just to scare anybody away from here who 
 has no business around our clubhouse." 
 
 "Pelham and such," said Perry, nodding. 
 
 I smiled as he went out to take his stand in front 
 of the clubhouse, and I thought to myself that it would 
 not be a good thing for anybody to try to break past 
 Perry Stokes. But I had seen to it that the gun was 
 not loaded. I knew that in Perry's hands it did not have 
 to be loaded. He would turn anybody away without 
 the need of a gun, and if he did come to a point where 
 he needed it he could use it as a club just as well. I was 
 yet to learn what a valuable lieutenant Perry Stokes 
 was to be. 
 
 It felt strange down in the clubhouse at night. 
 The everlasting sound of the crickets hi the high weeds 
 and the bass-fiddle voices of the frogs in the marshy 
 places came through the window like a duet. A screech 
 owl somewhere in the tree that hung over the back 
 window sang his chilly notes from time to time. Across 
 the river a Pelham dog barked. From the southward 
 came the deep sound of a steamboat whistle. Outside 
 of that it was a quiet night. 
 
 I grew tired of waiting. I began to fear that Robby 
 Hood was not going to come. Perhaps he could not get 
 away, after all. Ever since the excitement last year 
 with the terrible accident to Stoner's Boy, Robby's 
 father had been against his coming down here at all. 
 But I thought all that had blown over. I did not think 
 that would hinder him. 
 
 I heard a sound out on the porch at last, and thought 
 that he had come. But it was Bill Darby and Jerry 
 
 120
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 Moore. A little later Lew Hunter and Dick Ferris 
 came in. It was the first time we had come down to 
 the clubhouse at night. They all seemed to enjoy it, 
 and it seemed to mark the end of summer, too, for the 
 first thing they got out were the checkerboards, and be- 
 fore long two games were going strong in the front 
 room of the clubhouse. I sat still in my writing-room 
 and waited. 
 
 It was no more than five minutes later when there 
 came a light step on the porch, and the front door was 
 hurriedly opened and in rushed Robby Hood! 
 
 There he was. The same old Robby, only he was 
 dressed different. The first time we had ever seen 
 Robby he wore velvet breeches and a feather in his 
 cap. No more of that now. Smart city clothes and a 
 gray check cap. The boys in the front room leaped to 
 greet him. But he held up his finger and said: 
 
 "Hush! Where's Hawkins?" 
 
 I stepped out as quickly as I could and grabbed 
 him by the hand. 
 
 "You old Seckatary!" he exclaimed. "Look just the 
 same. Never changed a bit since I saw you last. Gee, 
 it's good to be back here again." 
 
 "Let's have a song," suggested Lew Hunter, going 
 toward the organ. But Robby held him. 
 
 "No, not just now, if you please, Lew," he said. 
 "A little later, maybe. You boys go on with your 
 checkers. Looks like you can jump Dick's king here in 
 a minute, Lew. Finish the game and then we will sing. 
 I want to have a little talk with Hawkins." 
 
 I led him back to my little writing-room as the boys 
 sat down again to their games. He looked around at 
 my little office with a pleased smile. 
 
 121
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "Hot dog!" he said. "You're way out there, Haw- 
 kins. This is swell, this is. The boys have this ready 
 for you when you got back?" 
 
 "Yes," I said; "I like it, too. But I was getting sick 
 and tired of it waiting here for you. Sit down. Let's 
 talk." 
 
 I sat at the little desk. Robby walked over to the 
 window beside my desk and pulled down the blind. 
 "If it's all the same to you, Hawkins," he said, "let's 
 keep 'em down." 
 
 I nodded, and Robby sat down across the desk from 
 me. "All right," he said. "Tell me, what's the trouble 
 down here now? Pelham starting something?" 
 
 "No," I said, "Pelham is all right. Watertown 
 sends us most of our trouble now. Stoner was a bad 
 egg, Robby, but he was nothing like a fellow who has 
 showed up here this summer. I believe he used to 
 chum with Stoner. At least one thing is certain: he 
 uses that same old brass horn that Stoner used to blow 
 around here to let us know he was going." 
 
 Robby sat looking at me with a pucker in his fore- 
 head. Then the next instant he was up and flew to the 
 window, where he carefully pulled the blind a little to 
 one side and peeped out. Then he walked back to his 
 chair and sat down. 
 
 "I've got a little fight on myself, Hawkins," he says; 
 "but I think I can handle it all right. Go on. What 
 were you saying?" 
 
 "Robby," I said to him, "seems to me you've got 
 something on your mind that won't help us any. Why 
 do you go to that window and look out? Why did you 
 want that shade down? Is there somebody after you? 
 Do you think someone has followed you here? 
 
 "Think it? I know it," said Robby. "The whole 
 122
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 caboodle followed me here. That's why I was so long 
 in coming. I started twice, and each time they saw me. 
 The third time I gave them the slip. That is, I think 
 I gave them the slip. But they're so darn slick, Haw- 
 kins, I'm never surprised when they turn up right in 
 front of me." 
 
 Here was a nice mess. I was trying to get Robby 
 Hood down here to help us keep out of trouble. And 
 what had the bloomin' kid done but brought some more 
 trouble right to our door. 
 
 "Who is it?" I asked. "Who is this caboodle you 
 talk about? They seem to be as slick as Stoner's Boy 
 ever was, if they can track you like that." 
 
 "Listen, Hawkins," said Robby, "it is Stoner's old 
 gang. The Red Runners that's what they're called 
 they each wear a red sweater, and they never walk 
 unless they are forced to. Always running always 
 after somebody they got it in for, and this time it 
 happens to be me." 
 
 "Who's the leader of this bunch?" I asked. I 
 watched Robby closely. I had been thinking while 
 he was talking. I had figured out that this was Har- 
 kinson and his pals. 
 
 "Long Tom," said Robby; "he is the leader since 
 Stoner's gone. They're worse now than when Stoner 
 was here." 
 
 "Ah, I remember Long Tom," I said; "I had hoped 
 he was gone from Watertown." 
 
 "I wish he was," said Robby; "he and his side partner 
 a fellow named Harkinson " 
 
 "I have met him," I said. Robby looked up in 
 surprise. 
 
 "Ah," he said, "so Harkinson has been to visit 
 you? No wonder you sent for me. Well, Hawkins, 
 
 123
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 you've sent for the right party. I know every hook 
 and crook of these Red Runners. Wait till you see 
 them. Harkinson is only a private in the ranks. It's 
 Long Tom that has the say-so over the Red Runners. 
 Harkinson had a spat with him about it this summer, 
 and Harkinson left the gang for a while : 
 
 "He came down here," I interrupted. "He picked 
 himself a job with the Pelham boys. He bossed them 
 around until they called on us to chase him off." 
 
 "Which you did," said Robby. "Well, then, no 
 wonder he has it in for you. Hawkins, you can make 
 up your mind that if this fellow has a grudge against 
 you" 
 
 "Yes," I said, "I've thought that all out, Robby. 
 I want you down here with me. I know we will have to 
 use our wits against Harkinson's, and Long Tom, too, 
 if he can get that bully to join him. That's what I 
 wanted to talk over with you." 
 
 Robby laughed. 
 
 "Well," he said, "it seems that we are both in for it, 
 and we might as well work together. I'll have to be off 
 now, though; it's getting late. You may not hear from 
 me for a few days. But I'll keep my eyes open for these 
 birds; if I hear of anything you should know I'll come 
 down. I hope to be with you boys often now, Hawkins." 
 "I wish you could," I said. Together we walked out 
 and Robby said good-bye to the four checker players 
 in the front room. Then we went out on the porch and 
 down the steps. A bright moon was shining, and a 
 shadow fell across the moonlit path as Perry Stokes 
 stepped up to us, his gun upon his shoulder. 
 
 "Come along, Perry," I said. 
 
 We three walked down to the river together. 
 
 "I had to paddle down," explained Robby, "because 
 
 124
 
 125
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 I feared they would hear my motor. But I guess 
 I'll risk it going back. It's hard work paddling a heavy 
 boat upstream." 
 
 He crawled under the willows, and, as we stood upon 
 the bank and watched, a dark, narrow skiff shot out 
 from under the willows. I saw it was a skiff with a 
 motor attachment. When he had gone a fair distance 
 he slid to the stern and there came to us the rat-tat-tat 
 of the motor as the boat leaped forward. I was just 
 congratulating myself that Robby had got away safe 
 when I felt Perry's hand upon my arm, and I was pulled 
 back into the shadows behind a tree. 
 
 "Look!" whispered Perry. 
 
 There, on the ridge of the river bank was a line of run- 
 ning figures like silhouettes, gliding past in single file, 
 and I recognized the two in front as Long Tom, whom 
 I had not seen for many months, and the long-armed, un- 
 gainly Harkinson. They ran without making a sound, as 
 though they barely touched the ground. And, truly, I had 
 never seen boys run so fast or so quietly. I did not think 
 to count them, but there must have been a dozen. They 
 sped past like shadows in the moonlight. Each wore 
 a red sweater and an oddly shaped cap. I knew they 
 had seen Robby start up the river in his boat. I did 
 not know how fast that boat of Robby's was, but I knew 
 it would have to be a good motor to travel faster than 
 the Red Runners. 
 
 A clump of bushes this side of the bend hid them from 
 our view. Perry looked at me and said: "Shall we 
 follow?" 
 
 "Follow!" I said. "Follow our nose and turn that 
 homeward." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 126
 
 XIII 
 
 The Silver Cup 
 
 somebody to see you, Hawkins," said 
 Jerry Moore, as I walked up the steps of our club- 
 house porch. "Robby Hood brought them here 
 about ten minutes ago. I told 'em to wait for you in 
 your writing room." 
 
 "Thanks, Jerry," I said, and hurried on into the club- 
 house and back to my little office room. Robby Hood 
 and two other boys were sitting there. 
 
 "Hello, Robby," I said, "I'm glad to see you still 
 alive. I suppose you've been too swift for the Red 
 Runners?" 
 
 Robby laughed. "Did you see them the other night?" 
 he asked. "By Jingo, Hawkins, I had to pray bard that 
 the motor wouldn't stop on me. I'd have been a goner 
 if it had. Of course, I beat them all the way. 
 But, say, meet Jerome and Kendricks, two friends of 
 mine." 
 
 I stepped forward and shook hands with the two 
 new boys. Robby went on talking. 
 
 "They're the leaders of the Happy Days Club up 
 hi Watertown. They've got a little trouble they asked 
 me help 'em out with, and it's got me stumped. I knew 
 you were good at figuring out things, Hawkins, so I 
 told them we might come down and talk to you about it." 
 "Sure," I said, "I'm always glad to help. But I'm 
 afraid I won't be any more help at figuring out this 
 thing if it has stumped you, Robby." 
 
 "Wait and let Jerome tell you. Go ahead, Jerome." 
 127
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 The light-haired fellow to whom Robby had spoken 
 brought his chair a little closer to my desk and began : 
 
 "Perhaps you have heard of our baseball team, the 
 Happy Days nine. We lost but one game the whole sea- 
 son, and we won the silver-cup trophy. It was a great 
 show in our clubhouse for the past two weeks. But it 
 has been stolen." 
 
 "Ah," I said, "I see. You think I'm going to be 
 able to tell you who took it? Now, listen, you boys are 
 welcome to my help when you can use me, but, for good- 
 ness sake, give me something easy. How on earth 
 
 "Wait a minute, Hawkins," interrupted Robby 
 Hood. "Let Jerome tell you all about it first. Then, 
 if you don't think you can help 'em, why no harm's 
 done." 
 
 "It was this way," continued Jerome. "The cup 
 was on its shelf two days ago. When I left our club- 
 house at supper-time I took a look at it, and I know it 
 was there. The next day, after school, we met as usual. 
 I was the first one to notice that the cup was missing. 
 The leather case on the shelf where it had stood was 
 empty." 
 
 "You searched the whole place?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes, everywhere. The silver cup was not found." 
 
 "You have no idea who took it?" I asked again. 
 
 The boy called Jerome motioned to the other who 
 was called Kendricks, and moved his chair back. 
 
 "Kendricks thinks he knows a little that might help 
 to find the thief." 
 
 "I don't know whether it will or not," said Kendricks, 
 "but I came back to the clubhouse after supper that 
 evening. The cup was there then. I stayed only a little 
 while, and then started for Jerome's house. He and I 
 were going to a picture show that night. As I walked 
 
 128
 
 THE SILVER CUP 
 
 up the street about a half a block from the clubhouse, 
 I turned and looked back. I thought I saw a couple of 
 boys looking up at the windows of our club. I believe 
 all the boys in our school would like to join it if they 
 could, but we only allow a dozen boys in the club. But 
 the next day when Jerome discovered the cup was stolen 
 I remembered these boys I had seen." 
 
 "Did you know them?" I asked. 
 
 "No," replied Kendricks, "I could not recognize 
 them from that distance, anyway. There was only one 
 thing that I could remember. One of the boys had his 
 hand, his right hand, I think, tied with a white bandage. 
 It seemed to be hanging in a sling, too, as though he 
 might have a sore hand or sprained wrist." 
 
 At once an idea struck me. But I did not say any- 
 thing to the boys about it. I simply said : 
 
 "Have you boys had any trouble with the Red 
 Runners?" 
 
 Robby Hood laughed. "There's not a boy in Water- 
 town who has not had some trouble with those red 
 coats, Hawkins. Sure, the Happy Days Club knows 
 'em." 
 
 Jerome smiled, while Kendricks frowned. 
 
 "Once," said Jerome, "we had to give them a lick- 
 ing to teach them to stay off our baseball diamond. 
 But they have never bothered us since." 
 
 "Well," I said, "I'll come up to your clubhouse to- 
 morrow and take a look. Maybe I can help you a little. 
 You know I will if I can. I am sure glad to have met 
 you boys, and I hope you'll come down here and see us 
 often. Robby, when will you be here again?" 
 
 "To-morrow," said Robby, "I'll come and fetch you 
 in my motor boat." 
 
 And so they went back, and I sat there in my little 
 
 9 129
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 office and thought this over. The boy with bis hand tied 
 up, hanging in a sling who could it be? who, but 
 Harkinson, of course. Harkinson it was who had tried 
 to climb over our gunwale that night of Link's farewell 
 party. But was it Harkinson? We did not know. Har- 
 old and I had been sitting there on the deck of the boat 
 in the dark talking about Harkinson. When the hand 
 came over the rail we thought it was Harkinson, of 
 course. Harold gave that hand two sound blows with 
 that wooden pin blows that would have made the fellow 
 who owned that hand tie it up in a bandage for a couple 
 of weeks. Harkinson it was who had been sneaking 
 around the Happy Days Club, and I began to think that 
 this thing wasn't going to be hard for me to figure out 
 at all. Of course, it must be Harkinson. 
 
 The next day after school we held our regular meet- 
 ing, and Robby arrived shortly afterward with his motor 
 boat, and together we went up to Watertown. The 
 Happy Days clubhouse is a nice little place, but I 
 can't say I like it as well as ours. It looks too much like 
 town right there on a street I'd rather have our 
 little old shack in the hollow near the river, with lots of 
 trees all around. The boys were very nice. Robby must 
 have told them I was a detective or something the way 
 they watched me as I looked around. I felt funny. 
 
 Jerome and Kendricks showed me the shelf where the 
 silver cup had stood. The leather case in which it had 
 been kept was still there, the lid open. I stood on a chair 
 and looked upon the shelf. It was covered with dust, 
 and there were fingermarks on the left side, and on the 
 right a smudge that was made, of course, with the 
 bandaged hand Harkinson's hand that Harold had 
 hit with the wooden pin. 
 
 "Here's your drinking water," called a boy from the 
 J80
 
 THE SILVER CUP 
 
 outside. Jerome went to the door and took a bucket 
 from a fellow, and, as I turned to look, the boy spoke 
 to me. 
 
 "Hi, Hawkins," he said. 
 
 "Hello, Booby," I returned. 
 
 Jerome gave the boy a coin a dime, I think and he 
 went away. "Do you know him?" asked Jerome, 
 laughing. "He's our handy man around here. We have 
 him bring us water and run errands and things. He 
 doesn't belong to our club, but he's a nice chap. Seems 
 like everybody knows Booby Warren." 
 
 "I've almost forgotten him," I said. "I had to 
 look twice to make sure. He used to live down our way. 
 But he moved away, and we haven't seen much of him 
 since." 
 
 No- more was said about Booby, and I began to ask 
 the other boys of the Happy Days Club if they knew 
 anything more about the silver cup. I didn't learn any 
 more, however, and I saw that I might as well go back 
 home. So I told the Happy Days bunch that I would 
 let them know if I could tell them about their missing 
 cup, and then I said good-bye, and Robby took me back 
 home in his motor boat, promising to come back the fol- 
 lowing day after school. 
 
 That night Lew Hunter asked us to be down to the 
 clubhouse for singing practice. Jerry and a few others 
 didn't want to, but I told them it was right to keep up 
 our practice, and Dick Ferris, our Captain, gave out 
 orders that everybody should be present, and so there 
 was no more objection to it. 
 
 Lew had the lamps all lit when we came down, 
 and his music all set out, with every boy's song laid 
 out on the table in front of his proper place. When we 
 got started it was really lots of fun, and I think all the 
 
 131
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 boys were glad that Lew had ordered this singing prac- 
 tice. 
 
 While we were in the middle of a song we all liked 
 very much the door flew open and in rushed Rob by Hood. 
 The singing stopped all at once. 
 
 "Quick," he cried, "the Red Runners they're going 
 for Pelham, Hawkins. I thought they were headed 
 for your place. But I was mistaken. Come on, they're 
 out full strong to-night " 
 
 Our boys seemed to jump at his words. It seemed so 
 long since we had a little excitement like this. "Wait, 
 Perry," I yelled, as I saw Perry the last to leave. "Take 
 this gun and stay here. When you see my canoe touch 
 the other shore fire the gun just once. Then wait a 
 minute and fire again. Just to frighten those fellows, if 
 they can be frightened." 
 
 I sped for the river. The last canoe was pushing off, 
 Jerry Moore and Bill Darby in it. I leaped in it lightly 
 and said: "Paddle fast." It did not take us long to 
 cross. There came the sound of shouts and running feet 
 on the Pelham side. The moon was not bright, the sky 
 clouded, but, just as we landed, there came the report 
 of Perry's gun, and there was enough moonlight to show 
 us a line of four or five shadowy figures running this 
 way, while another four or five ran back into the woods 
 behind the shacks. Our boys were by now darting into 
 the shacks, and the Red Runners were flying before them. 
 Then came the sound of Perry's gun once more, and 
 the Red Runners seemed to have disappeared entirely, 
 just as I thought they would. They did not know who 
 was after them. They, perhaps, thought it was our 
 Sherriff. 
 
 "Hawkins," whispered Robby Hood, coming round 
 132
 
 133
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 to where I stood, "look shall we catch them or chase 
 'em?" 
 
 I looked into the Pelham leader's shack. A small 
 oil lamp stood on a barrel in the center, and in the dim 
 light I saw a fellow lying on the floor. Then I saw two 
 other figures red-coated boys one digging into a 
 wooden chest, and the other searching in an old, dilapi- 
 dated safe that stood under a window. I started to en- 
 ter the shack, and, as my footstep sounded upon the 
 threshold, both redcoats turned and I looked into the 
 faces of Harkinson and Long Tom. For a moment I 
 feared but then I drew my gaze away and turned and 
 yelled: "Here they are Sheriff. They can't get away. 
 Stand up here close all you boys." 
 
 The trick worked. The two red-coats thought we 
 had all our boys and the Sheriff behind us. They leaped 
 for the first window and tumbled out. Robby was for 
 running after them, but I held him. "Stay here,'* I 
 said, "if you know what's good for you." 
 
 The footsteps of those fleeing night runners died out 
 quickly, and they were gone. I went inside and lifted 
 Briggen. Ham Gardner pushed his way up to me. "Is 
 he hurt much?" cried Ham. "Hawkins, it was Harkin- 
 son again " 
 
 "I know,'* I said, "but they didn't hurt your pal. 
 They just shoved him over." 
 
 I let Ham take care of him, and our boys backed out 
 and let the rest of the Pelhams come in. Suddenly 
 Briggen opened his eyes and asked: "Are they gone, 
 Ham?" Then I saw that he had been playing possum 
 all the time. I saw something else, too, and it made me 
 stop still for a second and look 
 
 Briggen's right hand was tied up with a bandage! 
 
 "Come," I said to our boys, "we will go back." So 
 134
 
 THE SILVER CUP 
 
 we all got into our canoes and crossed the river to our 
 side. I knew that the Red Runners would not bother the 
 Pelhams or us any more that night. I tried to get Robby 
 to stay all night with me, but he would not do it, saying 
 his mother would worry about him. So we waited fifteen 
 minutes, and then, when we watched his motor boat 
 turn the upper bend of the river, we locked our club 
 house and went home. 
 
 The next day after school we held our regular meet- 
 ing. Perry Stokes was a sort of watchman these days, 
 as I had told him to keep an eye on Pelham. And he 
 came up after the meeting and while I was writing the 
 minutes, and said : "A Pelham boat is starting down the 
 river." 
 
 "Who's in it?" I asked. 
 
 "Briggen and one other fellow," he answered. 
 
 "All right, Perry, come along." 
 
 We slipped down to the river and our canoe shot 
 out of the willows just as the Pelham canoe was dis- 
 appearing around the lower bend. We hadn't gone far 
 until we caught sight of them again, but they were both 
 facing front and never looked around, and I knew they 
 did not think they were being followed. It was a silent 
 chase to Seven Willows Island, where they landed, and 
 leaped ashore. We followed close on their heels. I knew 
 now where Briggen was going. To the loghouse in the 
 stockade they had built last summer under Harkinson's 
 orders. Both Pelhams went inside. 
 
 I hurried up to the door of the loghouse, Perry at 
 my heels with the gun. 
 
 "Hello!" I hollered out loud. 
 
 Both Briggen and his pal turned it was Booby 
 Warren who was with him. 
 
 "I thought so," I said. 
 
 135
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "Hawkins!" exclaimed Briggen, in angry surprise, 
 "What right you got following " 
 
 "Shut up!" I said. "What's that you've got under 
 your coat out with it. Perry, let Briggen look into 
 the nose of that noisemaker you have ah, I thought so, 
 Briggen." 
 
 Briggen and Bobby had both thrown up their hands 
 when they saw Perry poke the muzzle of the gun inside 
 the door. And out from under Briggen's coat there 
 slipped a beautiful shining thing as lovely a thing as 
 I ever saw the silver cup. 
 
 We forced Briggen and Booby Warren to tell us the 
 whole story. Harold and I had been mistaken. It was 
 not Harkinson who climbed up to the gunwale of the 
 launch on the night of Link's farewell party. It was 
 nosey Briggen sneaking around as Pelhams always do 
 to see what's going on over on our side. He had got the 
 crack with the wooden pin on his hand that Harold had 
 intended for Harkinson. I don't think Harold would 
 have hit so hard if he had known it was only a Pelham 
 fellow. But we had feared Harkinson. And Booby 
 Warren, who used to chum with the Pelham boys when 
 he lived down our way, had paid Pelham a visit and had 
 told Briggen of the beautiful silver cup in the Happy 
 Days clubhouse and Briggen wanted it. Booby helped 
 him. They carried it off together, but the Red Runners 
 must have seen them make off with it. For I can't think 
 what other thing they would have been rummaging 
 around for in Briggen's shack, if not for the silver cup. 
 Briggen guessed, too, that the Red Runners had some- 
 how discovered that he had the cup; that's why he and 
 Booby took it down to the loghouse on the island to 
 hide it so they could not take it away from him. But 
 
 136
 
 THE SILVER CUP 
 
 thanks to Perry Stokes, we had caught them at it, 
 and everything turned out all right, anyway. I felt 
 sorry, in a way, for Briggen as he stood there before us, 
 his right hand wound around with a dirty bandage, 
 and I felt that he had already had his punishment; he 
 had got the blows intended for Harkinson, and so I told 
 the fellows we ought to let him off this time with a good 
 scolding. We gave him that, hot and heavy, and I 
 warned him that if we ever caught him at such things 
 again 
 
 I told Booby to stay away from this part of the river 
 forever. 
 
 "You found the cup, Perry," I said. "You get as 
 much credit for it as anyone. There might be a reward. 
 I think we should both go together and take it back to 
 Happy Days." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 187
 
 XIV 
 
 Shadow Loomis Joins 
 
 WHEN we came down to our clubhouse after 
 school the next day the sight that met our eyes 
 made us sore. Somebody had visited our meet- 
 ing place during the night. Somebody had turned it up- 
 side down. Somebody had given us a sign that we might 
 expect trouble, and we knew that it could only be the 
 Red Runners, whom we had frightened away from 
 Pelham a few nights ago. 
 
 "Hawkins," said our Captain, "this is awful. What 
 shall we do about it?" 
 
 "What can we do now?" I asked. "It's too late 
 to cry about spilled milk, Dick. Come on, get the place 
 straightened up." 
 
 All of us boys began at once to put the clubhouse 
 in order. I was glad to find that none of the drawers 
 of my desk had been opened. Our tin money box, in 
 which we kept the dues, still rested in its place, and I 
 opened it and counted the dimes to make sure there was 
 none stolen. That part was all right. 
 
 "We will have to set a watch on the place," I said; 
 "it's a cinch they came early in the evening. You'll never 
 find a Watertown boy this far down the river after nine 
 o'clock at night. None of us were down here at all last 
 night. We all went home right after our meeting, you 
 remember." 
 
 So it was that we appointed every boy in the club 
 a watchman; each was to take his turn at keeping his 
 eye on the clubhouse until nine o'clock at night. Roy 
 Dobel drew the first watch, and he took his turn gladly 
 
 138
 
 SHADOW LOOMIS JOINS 
 
 enough, but he reported everything quiet when he passed 
 my house on his way home, and I felt satisfied that the 
 Red Runners would not repeat their shameful ransack- 
 ing. I felt in a way that they had only wished to get 
 even for the scare we gave them the night we made them 
 believe the Sheriff was upon their heels. 
 
 The next day while we were holding our meeting, 
 a fellow walked into our clubhouse with a suitcase in his 
 hand. All the boys were glad to see him. It was Shadow 
 Loo mis. 
 
 "Hello," he cried, "holding a little prayer meeting 
 or something? I couldn't pass by without stopping in." 
 
 The boys ran up to him and shook his hand, and took 
 his suitcase and pushed a chair up for him. 
 
 "Shadow," I said, "we are sure glad to see you. 
 How come?" 
 
 "I'm going back home to Watertown," he said; 
 "just got off the Kentucky Belle to see you fellows. 
 The Hudson Lee will be along to-night, and I'll go up 
 the rest of the way on her." 
 
 "Where's your friend, young Hudson Lee?" I asked. 
 
 "Gone off to school again," answered Shadow with a 
 sigh. "I always spend the summer down there with him. 
 Then, when his daddy ships him off to school, I got to 
 go back to my old home town. Seems kind o' lonesome 
 without him for a while, but I get used to it again, and 
 wait for another summer-time." 
 
 He asked about the Pelham boys then, and we told 
 him of our adventure over on the Pelham side the night 
 the Red Runners came. 
 
 "Red Runners!" exclaimed Shadow. "Good-night! 
 Hawkins, have you got those boys on your trail?" 
 
 "What do you know?" I asked. "What have you 
 found out about the Red Runners?"
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 Shadow Loomis laughed. 
 
 "Everything," he replied. "If they knew I was 
 returning to Watertown to-night they would be at the 
 wharf to meet me. I've spoiled more of their fun than 
 any other fellow in Watertown. I believe there wasn't a 
 boy beside me who would know where to find the hangout 
 place of the Red Runners." 
 
 He told us, then, of his fights with these pals of 
 Harkinson and Long Tom. We sat and listened as 
 though he were telling us the most interesting story 
 we ever heard. We were all feeling pretty well scared 
 when he finished. Here was another one of our friends 
 who had already met the Red Runners. 
 
 "But they'll not do much damage," said Bill Darby. 
 "They try to bluff most always. Something like our 
 Pelham fellows, I guess. I believe every town has a gang 
 of boys like that, Shadow. The Red Runners up in 
 Watertown and the Pelhams down here." 
 
 "Go 'way," said Shadow, "there's no bluff about 
 the Red Runners. Why, you never saw a bunch of fel- 
 lows work as fast and as slick. They finish anything they 
 start out to do. And nobody can stop 'em. That's 
 the worst thing. You can't find 'em if you look for 
 'em. And if you try to follow 'em they just disappear. 
 Once or twice a couple of 'em were caught and punished. 
 But never would they tell on any of the others. You 
 couldn't make 'em talk. They know that if they gave 
 the others away they would catch it sooner or later." 
 
 "Shadow," I said, "you'd be a great help to us. Why 
 can't you join our club?" 
 
 "Now you're talking," said Shadow with a laugh, 
 and he slapped me on the back. "I've been waiting 
 for you fellows to invite me. Now, if you all are agree- 
 able, why I'm with you." 
 
 140
 
 SHADOW LOOMIS JOINS 
 
 The way the boys shouted "Yes! Sure! Fine!" I 
 knew it was no use to take a vote on it. Shadow was 
 one of us from that time on. 
 
 "Only," he said, "I'll not be able to be around here 
 as much as you fellows. You see, my dad's strong on 
 me learning my trade. I've got to work now. I've had 
 a long vacation. But I'll be down here on and off, as 
 you might say. That's be all right, won't it?" 
 
 "Sure," I said, "we've got another fellow who comes 
 only sometimes Robby Hood. He's from up your way. 
 Do you know him?" 
 
 Shadow shook his head. "There's a lot of fellows 
 in Watertown I don't know," he replied, "but if he's your 
 friend, Hawkins, he's mine, too." 
 
 "He's coming down here to-night," I said. "I wish 
 you could meet him." 
 
 "I'll be here till about 8.45, I think," said Shadow; 
 "the Hudson Lee is a fast steamboat. She'll be on time, 
 and I want to be here when she comes. Captain Lee 
 told me he'd not wait a second, and if I wasn't at the 
 wharf he'd go without me." 
 
 "That'll be all right," I said, laughing, I'll find you a 
 place to sleep if you miss the steamboat." 
 
 "Ain't goin' to miss her," said Shadow. 
 
 With that Shadow waved his hand and said we had 
 enough talk about Red Runners and such, and he opened 
 his suitcase and got out a lot of odds and ends, and for 
 an hour the boys were watching him do some of his 
 magic tricks, which kept them all guessing. No matter 
 how they begged him to tell them how it was done 
 Shadow always put the trick away and pulled out a new 
 one. That suitcase seemed to be full of nothing but 
 magic, like some old wonder box you read about in fairy 
 tales. . . . 
 
 141
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 Jerry Moore was on watch at the clubhouse that 
 night. Shadow had supper at my house, and Perry 
 Stokes called soon after, and we three went down to the 
 clubhouse together. Perry never failed to show up 
 when he thought I wanted him. I never knew a boy 
 who was always as willing to do something for me as 
 Perry Stokes was. And he seemed to enjoy doing it. 
 
 I had left the key with Jerry, and I was surprised 
 when we came near the clubhouse to see that no lights 
 were lit, and not a soul around. I wondered about that, 
 because Jerry was always on the job. We walked softly 
 up the porch, and when I tried the door it gave way and 
 we entered. "Strange," I said, softly, "door open and 
 Jerry not here. Where in the world " 
 
 "S-sh," came a sound from the rear in my writing 
 room. "Come here," whispered Jerry. There he was, 
 sitting in the dark, by the open window, looking out 
 across the space that lay between our clubhouse and the 
 river. "Don't light the lamp," he whispered. 
 
 "What's the matter?" I asked, in a low voice. 
 
 "I don't know," answered Jerry. "I saw someone 
 down by the river bank just a while ago there it is 
 again " 
 
 We stood behind his chair and bent our heads to 
 peer out into the dark. There was no moon, but it was 
 a clear night and the stars were out in full force, and we 
 could see very plainly a shadow moving in the trees 
 that lined the ridge of the river bank. It was the figure 
 of a boy darting from the dark shadow of one tree to 
 another farther down the bank. "He must have been 
 away up here by the clubhouse," whispered Jerry. "I 
 only saw him first as he darted to that old locust tree." 
 
 "Spy," said Perry Stokes. "I'll bet he wears a red 
 sweater." 
 
 142
 
 143
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "Good-night," I said, "if there is some trap to catch 
 Robby to-night" 
 
 "Let me give them a little scare," said Shadow 
 Loomis. Where's my suitcase?" 
 
 He went over to the table and dragged out from under 
 it his traveling bag. "I'll guarantee to scare any Red 
 Runner from here to Watertown," he continued, "if 
 he can figure out whether this is a ghost or not " 
 
 "There he goes," spoke up Perry Stokes. "See he 
 disappeared down the bank." 
 
 Shadow Loomis brought out several long pieces of 
 soft, hairy twine, and a wide-necked bottle. Silently 
 we watched him push each string into the bottle and 
 soak them with the watery-looking stuff it contained. 
 
 "He's back again," announced Perry Stokes, who 
 still peered out of the window. "Hawkins, he's coming 
 this way, sir." 
 
 "Let him come," said Shadow Loomis, "he'll get 
 his money's worth. Now, you boys watch. I don't 
 think you've ever seen this kind of a snake before." 
 
 He had one of the soaked pieces of twine rolled 
 into a ball. I saw him snap a little black tip at the end 
 of the rope. There was a little spark, and he sailed the 
 thing out of the window into the dark toward the shad- 
 ows under the trees. For a moment all that we saw was 
 the spark lying where Shadow Loomis had thrown 
 the rope. Then, suddenly it began to spread that 
 spark seemed to stretch out into a long, thin line of 
 tiny flames, and began to wriggle just like a snake. 
 The coming figure of the boy on the bank stopped short 
 for an instant and looked at the strange thing that lay 
 before him. Then that fiery snake seemed to start 
 for that shadowy figure, and then as suddenly died out 
 
 144
 
 SHADOW LOOMIS JOINS 
 
 and was gone. The figure on the bank had turned and 
 disappeared. 
 
 "Got his goat," laughed Shadow Loomis, under his 
 breath. "Nobody can figure it out the first time they 
 see one." 
 
 "Look!" exclaimed Perry in a low voice. "Look! 
 there are three boys no, four, five another. Oh, 
 Hawkins! the Red Runners are all around." 
 
 Sure enough, there were shadowy forms now moving 
 all through the trees. At the same time came to my 
 ears the mufHed sound of a motor boat from up the 
 river. It was Robby Hood. I knew that rat-tat-tat 
 of the little cheap motor he had fastened to his skiff. 
 And he had said he would be here sure to-night. 
 
 "Harkinson's calling," whispered Perry, laying his 
 hand on my arm. 
 
 "Yes," I said, as the winding notes of a horn the 
 old horn that used to belong to Stoner's Boy came from 
 the river bank. "They hear Robby coming he's 
 calling all the boys together. They're going to take 
 Robby prisoner. Shadow, if you want to help us " 
 
 "Come on," laughed Shadow, "we can't help your 
 friend here beat it for the river as fast as you can.'* 
 
 He led the way himself, pushing out the front door and 
 down the path to the left, keeping in the shadow as much 
 as he could. We followed at his heels. As we went we 
 could see the Red Runners coming in every direction, 
 from where they had been stationed, each to watch 
 for the coming of Robby Hood. Now they ran swiftly, 
 silently in single file, down to the point where the sound 
 of Harkinson's horn came from. The rat-tat-tat of the 
 motor boat grew louder, and a light showed around the 
 bend the little headlight that Robby carried on his 
 
 10 145
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 little boat. We stopped at a point fifty feet from where 
 the Red Runners gathered on the bank. They stood back 
 in the shadow as the little boat swung into our little 
 wharf and made fast. Then, like a line of ghosts, they 
 moved swiftly to the river and leaped silently upon 
 Robby Hood as he stood, with back turned, making 
 fast his boat. We heard one little cry of surprise as 
 Robby felt them upon him. 
 
 Shadow Loomis sped out from his hiding place 
 and I heard a snap as he scratched his fingernail upon 
 the tip of one of those mysterious ropes and sailed it 
 out toward the crowd of figures on the little wharf. He 
 made a hissing noise through his teeth and raised his 
 arm again and sailed another, and then another, the 
 last one landing behind the Red Runners just as the 
 first one began to glow in its full length and start wrig- 
 gling toward the wharf. They had turned and were look- 
 ing toward us, surprised at that hissing sound that 
 Shadow continued to make through his teeth then 
 their eyes lit upon the long, wriggling things that slowly 
 moved toward them by now they had all begun to grow 
 into blue flame like long, ugly glow worms they wrig- 
 gled their crooked lengths toward the wharf 
 
 It wasn't Harkinson who cried out in fright I'd 
 known his voice but it was one of the Red Runners 
 who first showed a yellow streak and then it seemed 
 as if they could not get away fast enough. How they 
 dashed, one into another, for the nearest way to escape 
 those wriggling things! 
 
 It was the sound of the horn again that got them 
 in order, and they pulled into line again and ran like 
 the wind in single file up the river bank, disappearing 
 into the shadows under the trees that line the stream. 
 Shadow Loomis was laughing until tears were in his 
 
 146
 
 SHADOW LOOMIS JOINS 
 
 eyes, for Robby Hood, too, was scared to death, and was 
 down in his boat again, starting the motor, ready to get 
 away from this place as quick as he could. 
 
 "Robby," I cried, "it's me, Hawkins come back." 
 
 The sound of his motor stopped and he leaped upon 
 the wharf again to meet us. 
 
 "Gee wiz," he said, "I didn't know what was coming 
 off here, I ought to have known that I couldn't have 
 slipped away from the Red Runners, but I felt like I 
 was safe when I didn't see a single one of 'em at Water- 
 town. I was all excited and then come those snaky- 
 looking blue things Great Scott, where did they go?" 
 
 "Burnt out," I said. "Here is the magician who 
 turned the trick." 
 
 I introduced Shadow Loomis. 
 
 "You saved me from a good licking," said Robby, 
 as they shook hands. "They've been laying for me for 
 weeks. You don't know these Red Runners." 
 
 "Don't I?" said Shadow, with a laugh. He told, 
 then, adventures with this strange bunch of boys, 
 and it was a pleasant half hour we spent there on the 
 river bank. 
 
 "Here comes a steamboat," said Perry Stokes. 
 
 "It's the Hudson Lee" said Shadow, "bound for 
 Watertown. You'd better not try to go back in that 
 motor boat of yours, Robby. We'll both go back on 
 the steamboat. Captain Lee will be glad to take us." 
 
 "I'm glad to hear that," said Robby. "They'll 
 wait to see my motor come back. They'll never think 
 for a minute that I'm on the steamer." 
 
 The beautiful old steamboat pulled for our shore and 
 landed just about the time Perry Stokes came back from 
 the clubhouse with Shadow's suitcase. The two boys 
 promised to come back soon and leaped upon the gang- 
 
 147
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 plank the minute it touched our wharf. We watched 
 the steamer sail up the stream, and then Jerry Moore 
 said: 
 
 "Well, my turn of watching is over for a while. It's 
 been a wild night. Believe me, I'll dream of snakes all 
 night. Let's lock up our clubhouse and hurry home." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 148
 
 XV 
 
 The Call of a Night Bird 
 
 JERRY MOORE always had a liking for a camp- 
 fire. He never stayed in our clubhouse longer 
 than he had to. Just as soon as the meeting was 
 over he would be out and gone. Now the days were 
 growing shorter. October days brought chilly weather, 
 and I was not surprised to find, when I came down to the 
 clubhouse after school, a thin ribbon of smoke coming 
 up from behind the bushes on the river bank. It was a 
 campfire, and around it sat all the boys listening to some 
 story that Jerry was telling. 
 
 "Looks like old times, fellas," I said, walking up 
 and spreading my hands over the fire; "I thought Jerry 
 would have a fire going before long." 
 
 "I've just been telling the boys, Hawkins," said 
 Jerry, "that the Red Runners have a spy down here. 
 I saw him myself when I came down after school. I 
 was the first one down here." 
 
 "It wouldn't surprise me, Jerry," I said; "but are 
 you sure it was a Red Runner?" 
 
 "He wore a red sweater, Hawkins," replied Jerry. 
 "But he was a stranger to me. Never saw him before 
 in my life." 
 
 "No, I guess not," I said, "if they do send a scout 
 down here, most likely they send one we don't know. 
 To tell the truth, we only know Harkinson and Long 
 Tom." 
 
 "Well, I made up my mind to catch him,*' said Jerry. 
 "We've just got to make those red coats know that they 
 
 149
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 can't be sneaking around our clubhouse whenever they 
 please." 
 
 "Meeting!" called Dick Ferris from the clubhouse. 
 And so we all went up and took our places around the 
 table and had our regular meeting. It was Monday, and 
 the Monday meeting is the most important one in our 
 club. No matter how many meetings on any other day 
 a fellow misses, he's bound to be present at the roll call 
 on Monday. For that is the day when the dues are paid, 
 and a fellow who does not pay his dime regularly is 
 likely to find himself out of the club. 
 
 We talked about the appearance of the spy that Jerry 
 had seen. And our Captain, Dick Ferris, appointed 
 groups of two and three boys each to search together in 
 different parts of the woods as soon as the meeting was 
 over. But nothing came of it that day. Each little 
 searching party came back before dark to report that 
 not a trace could be found of the solitary Red Runner. 
 He had gone, most likely, before we set out in search 
 of him. 
 
 The next day, while I was writing in my little office 
 in the clubhouse, Doc Waters came in. I was glad to see 
 him, for it had been a long time since he had been to see 
 us. 
 
 "Hawkins," he said after a while, "you boys won't 
 be getting into any more trouble like you had with 
 Stoner's Boy, will you?" 
 
 "I hope not, Doc," I replied. "We wouldn't like to, 
 anyway." 
 
 "Well," he said, "I know you have been fighting with 
 that boy from Watertown, what's his name '' 
 
 "Harkinson." 
 
 "Yes, the bully that gave us trouble at our summer 
 camp on the island. Now, he's a tough youngster, 
 
 150
 
 THE CALL OF A NIGHT BIRD 
 
 Hawkins, and he runs with a bad lot of urchins " 
 
 "The Red Runners." 
 
 "Yes, I've heard of 'em," continued Doc. "It came 
 to me from somebody in Watertown, who told me about 
 your discovery of the lost silver cup. That was a fine 
 thing, Hawkins, your finding out who stole it and getting 
 it back. But, when I was told, I heard also about your 
 run-in with this red runnin' bunch from Watertown. I 
 just want to warn you. If you boys ever get into trouble 
 like that again, Judge Granbery will use his influence to 
 have your dad send you away to a very strict school 
 somewhere." 
 
 "I'll be very careful, Doc," I said; "I don't want 
 our little club broken up. We have better times down 
 here on the river bank than any fellows could have any- 
 where else. We will steer clear of trouble. But, of course, 
 if anybody starts fighting us, we have to fight back. 
 You wouldn't think much of a fellow who didn't fight 
 back, would you?" 
 
 "No, that's all right," said Doc; "but sometimes 
 they're too much for you. All I ask, Hawkins, is that 
 you call upon me and the Sheriff when you need us. 
 Don't take a chance." 
 
 "Leave it to me, Doc. When the time comes that 
 we can't take care of ourselves you can bet your money 
 that we will yell for the Sheriff mighty quick." 
 
 "And me," said Doc. 
 
 "And you," I assured him. 
 
 But I was hoping that we wouldn't have to do that. 
 As Doc walked up the river bank I watched him through 
 my window and I thought to myself that there never 
 was a man who cared for a bunch of neighborhood boys 
 as much as Doc cared for us. He sure was a prince. 
 
 That evening Lew Hunter held a singing practice in 
 151
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 the clubhouse, and Dick Ferris gave orders that all of 
 the boys must come. The preacher had asked us to sing 
 again in his choir on Sundays, and we liked to help the 
 preacher out. He was a fine man, and all of us boys 
 liked him. So they all promised to come. I got there 
 a little ahead of the others, and sat down at my desk 
 in the rear room and finished up the writing I had started 
 when Doc Waters interrupted me that afternoon. It 
 was very quiet. The air in the room seemed a little stuffy, 
 so I opened my window and turned back to my writing. 
 There came to me, after a little while, the chilly notes 
 of a screech owl somewhere in the tree that hung over 
 the back window. It bothered me. I had heard that 
 mournful sound every night that I had come down to the 
 clubhouse. And I did not like owls. It was the only 
 bird I was ever afraid of around our river bank. As I 
 listened to it again I suddenly thought to myself: What 
 if that is not a real owl? Supposing it is the secret signal 
 of the Red Runners calling one another. I felt a chill 
 go up my back. My skin began to feel like gooseflesh. 
 
 But then came a relief when I heard footsteps on the 
 porch, and I thought at last that some of my boys were 
 arriving for the singing practice. I threw down my pen 
 and pushed through the curtains into the clubroom 
 and there I stood stock still, and another chill shot up 
 my spine. 
 
 Standing there, in the wide-open door, were two Red 
 Runners they wore long coats and hats pulled down 
 over their eyes, but I could see through the open coats 
 the red sweaters worn underneath. They made no move, 
 but stood there with their arms akimbo, looking at me. 
 
 "Been a long time since we met, Hawkins?" 
 
 It was Harkinson. Those hypnotizing eyes that had 
 held me spellbound several times before peered out at 
 
 152
 
 15S
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 me from under the dark rim of his wide hat. He gave a 
 short laugh and dropped his arms, and they hung al- 
 most to his knees. He was, indeed, a figure that would 
 frighten a fellow. I could not speak. 
 
 "You don't remember my pardner, here," continued 
 Harkinson, waving an arm toward his companion. "Well, 
 he remembers you, don't you, Long Tom?" 
 
 I bent my head forward at his words and gazed under 
 the brim of the other hat. Yes, it was Long Tom. The 
 same Long Tom who came in the old days with Stoner's 
 Boy. The same Long Tom whom I had outwitted many 
 times. He shoved his hat back upon his head and said: 
 
 "Take a good look, Hawkins, and you'll know me. 
 It's been a long time, but that's my middle name. 
 Long Tom yeah, I waits a long time, but I gets what 
 I go after. You and me got a few things to settle, 
 ain't we, Hawkins? How'd you like to take a trip with 
 us? You might as well like it, cause we came to fetch 
 you to a party that we hatched up just for you ain't 
 nobody else but you gonna be honored in it and the Red 
 Runners will do the entertaining." 
 
 "Where do you want to take me?" I asked. I thought 
 I had better play for time. 
 
 "We borrowed a boat with a motor in it," said Har- 
 kinson, "from your friend, Hood. It's waiting for you 
 now. Put on your hat and hurry." 
 
 While I listened, hardly hearing what they said, I 
 was trying to figure out a way to get out of this. If these 
 two ruffians got me up to their hangout place in Water- 
 town to-night I knew the least I could get away with 
 would be a black eye and a bloody nose, and maybe 
 have to walk all the way back. I felt myself sweating, 
 yet I did not feel warm. 
 
 "Hurry," snapped Long Tom. 
 154
 
 THE CALL OF A NIGHT BIRD 
 
 And, then, glory be to goodness, came the sound of 
 laughter and my boy's voices; they were coming down 
 the path. My two callers heard it at the same instant. 
 Harkinson made a dash for me, but Long Tom hissed 
 and jerked his arm. 
 
 "It's up," he whispered; "it's too late; they're all 
 coming; let's beat it before they turn the tables on us." 
 And, casting a mean look toward me, he snarled : "We've 
 got plenty of time; we'll get you later." 
 
 "Not if I know it," I yelled as loud as I could, for 
 my nerves were strained and I felt glad that my boys were 
 coming back. Harkinson had dropped his hat, but he 
 did not stop to pick it up. They slipped out into the 
 dark and slammed the door after them. I picked up the 
 oil lamp, rushed out onto the porch. They had dis- 
 appeared in the dark under the trees. Coming around 
 the corner of the clubhouse were my own boys, joking 
 and cutting up as if nothing had happened. I made up 
 my mind not to say anything to them, so that the sing- 
 ing practice would not be spoiled by worries of this kind. 
 
 "Thanks for the light, Hawkins," said Lew, laughing; 
 "you must have thought we would stub our toe or some- 
 thing." 
 
 "It's pretty dark out there," I said. "I think we 
 ought to have a light by the steps." 
 
 They came trooping in. They were getting the music 
 sheets and songbooks ready while I walked back to my 
 desk and put my book and things away. Through the 
 window came the gloomy call of the screech owl in the 
 tree. I hurried back to take my place by the organ. 
 Lew struck up the first chord and the sound of the music 
 drove away my fear. I was with my boys again. 
 Nothing could hurt me now. 
 
 155
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 We sang for almost an hour. At the end we sat down 
 at the table while Lew was putting away the music and 
 books. 
 
 "Listen," spoke up Jerry Moore. "That's a sign. 
 Every time you hear that owl in the back tree there, 
 you know the Red Runners are near." 
 
 "Ah," I said, "what have you learned, then, Jerry?" 
 
 The other boys seemed to be frightened. They 
 looked with serious faces at Jerry. 
 
 "The same old call. Stoner used to use it. Listen! 
 Hear it? Old flathead night bird." 
 
 "Hello, who does this belong to?" exclaimed Bill 
 Darby. He had pulled out of the dark corner behind 
 the organ the wide-brim hat that Harkinson had 
 dropped in his flight. "Some hat, ain't it? How do 
 I look, fellas?" 
 
 He put the wide hat upon his head. The drooping 
 brim flapped over his ears. The boys laughed as Bill 
 walked around. Then, just as he approached the win- 
 dow, a funny thing happened. There came the sound 
 of fluttering, a flapping of ghostly wings, and Jerry gave 
 a cry of fright as through the window came a shape 
 an evil-looking thing it seemed in the dull glow of our 
 lamp and it settled down upon the hat on Bill Darby's 
 head. It was a small speckled owl ! Bill hardly had time 
 to see it, but he knew something was wrong, and he 
 screamed and dropped to his knees. I saw Jerry Moore 
 leap forward and make a swing at the ugly creature, 
 but just then came through the window another sound 
 the sound of the old brass horn that Harkinson car- 
 ried and flappety-flap-flap out again into the night 
 sailed the unwelcome bird. 
 
 "The horn " shouted Jerry. "It's Harkinson and 
 the Red Runners!" 
 
 156
 
 THE CALL OF A NIGHT BIRD 
 
 I couldn't have stopped him if I wanted to. Bill 
 Darby ran after him, and the other boys, recovering their 
 courage, and anxious to see what might be going on, shot 
 out of the clubhouse behind them. I followed after lock- 
 ing the door. I feared a trick. 
 
 Once more came the sound of the horn as we ran. 
 I knew it was Harkrnson calling in the other Red Run- 
 ners who had been stationed in other places. 
 
 "There they are," whispered Jerry, as I came up to 
 where he and the other boys had halted. We looked 
 down, and on the bank we saw two figures waiting be- 
 side a boat, the motor already running. "Look!" whis- 
 pered Jerry. "Look! Harkinson's shoulder " 
 
 Against the moonlight was the dark figure of Har- 
 kinson, and upon his shoulder rested a queer little shape 
 I looked twice before I saw it was the owl. 
 
 "Oh, Lord," whispered Bill Darby, "it's his owl- 
 it's Harkinson's and it took me for him " 
 
 There must have been only four Red Runners, for, 
 as two others came running up, they hurried quickly, 
 took their places in the boat, and Harkinson followed, 
 while Long Tom shoved her off and leaped in as the 
 motor carried her out into the stream. Long after the 
 darkness swallowed them we could hear the rat-tat-tat 
 of the engine. 
 
 "I might a'known that nightbird belonged to him," 
 said Jerry Moore. 
 
 "And it mistook me for him," repeated Bill Darby. 
 
 "Sure," I said, "you had on his hat." 
 
 "What!" exclaimed Jerry. "Was he in the clubhouse?" 
 
 "Yes," I said; "don't get excited; it was only me 
 they were after." And I told them of the visit of Long 
 Tom and Harkinson while I was alone in the clubhouse. 
 Bill Darby kept brushing his hair, as if he couldn't 
 
 157
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 forget that the horrid bird of Harkinson's had once 
 roosted there. "To think of him having such a pet," 
 said Jerry. "No wonder, though; I knowed he was some 
 kin to such nightbirds. Whenever you hear an owl 
 you can bet Harkinson ain't far off." 
 
 "You're right," I said. 
 
 "Have you locked the clubhouse, Hawkins?" asked 
 Dick Ferris. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Well, we better go up and close that window," 
 said Bill Darby. 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 158
 
 XVI 
 
 A Pair of Owls 
 
 IT WAS cold as the dickens when we came down to 
 the river bank after school. All of us boys hugged 
 the camp fire Jerry Moore had burning on the 
 river bank. Across the river the Pelham boys had a fire 
 burning, too. They always do everything we do. I 
 wondered, as I watched them, why they had been so 
 quiet lately. They haven't been over on our bank for 
 weeks. Whenever they stay quiet like that for a long 
 time I always begin to expect trouble from them. Now, 
 I thought they were hatching something new for us; 
 soon we would find out what they were up to. 
 
 Bill Darby had not been at school all day because 
 he was sick. I was surprised when I found him sitting 
 among the boys at the camp fire. 
 
 "Bill," I said, "if you're sick enough to stay home 
 from school you ought to stay in the house. It might 
 be bad for you to be down here on the river bank." 
 
 "I dunno," said Bill, "seems like school is the worst 
 place for a fella when he's sick. Seems like a place out 
 here on the river bank does a fella lots of good when he's 
 sick." 
 
 The roll call was answered by all but Roy Dobel. 
 We talked about the last visit of Harkinson and the Red 
 Runners, and Dick said we would have to keep a watch 
 at the clubhouse. It was Bill Darby's turn, but he being 
 sick, Perry Stokes offered to take his place, so Bill could 
 go home early and take care of his cold. 
 
 159
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 Then the boys all stepped up to pay their dues. 
 While I was marking it in the book Roy Dobel came in. 
 
 "Look, fellas," he said, "ain't he a fine fella? Har- 
 kinson ain't got nothin' on us." 
 
 All the boys looked surprised. Bill Darby yelled and 
 put his hands on top of his head and held his cap on 
 tight. Roy Dobel carried a parrot's cage, and in it was 
 a big, brown owl. 
 
 "For the love of Mike!" exclaimed Jerry Moore, 
 "what did you go and do? Steal Harkinson's pet?" 
 
 "Dry up," said Roy; "can't you see this is a wild one? 
 I trapped him in my pop's barn. Look at his eyes. Har- 
 kinson's owl never had eyes as big as that." 
 
 We all crowded around Roy and looked at the stiff- 
 looking bird he had in the cage. It was larger than the 
 owl Harkinson had. The feathers on its head stuck 
 up like two little ears. 
 
 "Let it go," cried Bill Darby; "set it free, Roy." 
 
 Bill hadn't forgotten the night Harkinson's pet owl 
 sailed through the window and lit upon his head. 
 
 "Nix," said Roy, "this bird is gon'a be our mascot. 
 Tell you what, fellas, an owl is good luck. It gives a fella 
 a lot of power don't you know how Harkinson can 
 hypnotize with his eyes? Where'd you suppose he got 
 that power from from his brain? No, sir, he ain't got 
 brains enough to keep him on the ground. It's his owl 
 that does it. It's like a charm. Don't you always see 
 fortune tellers and such have owls on their shoulders? 
 Sure you do; they are magic. If we keep this old fella 
 in our clubhouse, Harkinson won't be able to do any- 
 thing to us, nor anybody else. You do it and see." 
 
 No use denying, Roy's words had a lot to do toward 
 making the fellows like the bird, and the end of it was that 
 the cage was set upon the cupboard, from which high 
 
 160
 
 A PAIR OF OWLS 
 
 place the two glassy eyes looked down upon us with an 
 empty stare. But, remembering our recent scare with 
 Harkinson's pet night bird, I did not like to have this one 
 around. I should have taken a better look at Roy's bird, 
 I guess, but I did not. I just saw that it was almost 
 twice the size of Harkinson's speckled pet, and then I 
 paid no more attention to it. 
 
 The next day we learned that Bill Darby was really 
 a very sick boy. Doc Waters came down to the house- 
 boat and scolded us for letting Bill come down when we 
 knew he was sick. I tried to make excuses, but Doc was 
 very angry, and said that it was our duty to chase a 
 fellow home when we knew he was sick enough to stay 
 home from school. We promised on our honor that we 
 would do so forever after. We all went up to see him, 
 but he was very cross. Bill is that way. When he gets 
 sick he's very cranky, and he told his mother to order 
 us to go right back where we came from. Which we did. 
 
 Roy Dobel was on watch that night. The other fel- 
 lows went to the movies, but I said I didn't care to go, 
 and Lew Hunter went down with me to the clubhouse. 
 Roy was sitting on the steps and jumped up when he 
 saw us coming. 
 
 "How's everything, Roy?" I asked. 
 
 "All's quiet," answered Roy. 
 
 "Haven't heard a sound?" I asked. 
 
 "Only the owl in the clubhouse. He hoots. That's 
 the sign he's a good owl. You never heard Harkinson's 
 owl hoot, did you? No, he sort o' screeches. Owls's 
 no good lest they hoots. Ours is a fine one." 
 
 I had to laugh, and Lew did, too. 
 "All right, Roy, keep your eye open." 
 
 Lew and I went inside. I went to work writing, and 
 Lew got some of his music sheets out and practiced on the 
 
 II 161
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 organ. It sounded fine to me as I sat in my little office 
 in the back and heard the strains of "Home, Sweet 
 Home" come drifting through the curtain. But sud- 
 denly came the hoot of the owl in the cage on the cup- 
 board. 
 
 "Did you hear him, Hawkins?" called Lew. 
 
 "Yeah, keep on playing," I answered, "so I can't 
 hear him. Dern if I like owls, even if Roy does think 
 they're good luck." 
 
 Lew laughed and kept on playing. 
 
 After a while I heard voices outside. Roy was talk- 
 ing with somebody. I hurried through my curtain door- 
 way, but just then the door opened and in came Roy and 
 Briggen, followed by two other Pelhams Ham Gardner 
 and Dave Burns. 
 
 "He's here," whispered Roy to me. 
 
 "So I see," said I. "Briggen and his ' 
 
 "No, no " broke in Roy, "Harkinson Briggen just 
 come to tell us his launch is landed down on the bank 
 near the mouth of Cave River. They rowed down, so 
 the motor wouldn't make any noise." 
 
 Then, for the first time, I saw that Briggen carried 
 something something that stood up from his arm, but 
 was covered with a gray cloth. Gray how that color 
 reminded me of Stoner's Boy!' 
 
 "What's that?" I demanded, pointing my finger. 
 
 In a moment Briggen whipped off the cloth Har- 
 kinson's little speckled owl sat perched upon his wrist. 
 I drew back I hated the thing. 
 
 "Where ' I began, "where what's this mean, 
 Briggen?" 
 
 Briggen grinned. 
 
 "We followed their boat," he said, "and they landed 
 and tied her, and snuck off in the dark. This was sittiag 
 
 162
 
 A PAIR OF OWLS 
 
 on the steering wheel, but it was covered with the cloth. 
 When we looked in under we saw it was the bird. So 
 we just snatched it and brought it up to you. It's tame. 
 See, it won't fly. It'll sit here as long as you want it to. 
 We thought it would be a pal for your other bird up 
 there." 
 
 He pointed to Roy's caged bird upon the cupboard. 
 
 "How did you know we had one, Briggen?" I de- 
 manded sharply. 
 
 He shifted his eyes from me to Roy, and from Roy 
 to Lew, and back to me. 
 
 "Ah," I said, "you guys been spying around here while 
 we were gone. I see. Just let me tell you, Briggen, 
 I don't want any of you boys sneaking around here. Stay 
 on your own side of the river and we'll stay on ours. 
 What do you mean by bringing that stolen bird up here? 
 You want Harkinson to think we swiped it? I know you. 
 It would suit you fine if Harkinson would have something 
 on us " 
 
 "Aw, shut up," yelled Briggen, and he shook his 
 wrist free; the speckled owl came flappety-flap for my 
 head. Lew Hunter yelled. I ducked. The Pelhams had 
 turned and were gone. We heard their footsteps on the 
 path outside. 
 
 "Hot time!" exclaimed Roy. "Shall we take out 
 after 'em, Hawkins?" 
 
 "No," I said, "get rid of this bird of Harkinson's. 
 He'll miss it. And the whole Red Running bunch will 
 be up here after it. Hurry." 
 
 We spent ten minutes chasing the measly thing. I 
 hated to touch it, but I would be willing to do anything 
 to keep Harkinson from thinking that we stole his pet. 
 We had enough trouble already. But at last we realized 
 that it was a hard thing to catch when it knew we were 
 
 163
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 trying to catch it. We sat down at last and looked at it. 
 It perched on top of the cage where the big-eared owl 
 sat staring. The big one moved its head just a trifle and 
 uttered a gloomy "Hoot." The little one said: "Squee- 
 wee-wee." 
 
 "Out with the lights," I said, jumping up. "Hurry, 
 Lew. I'll bet it won't be long before he misses the 
 bird." 
 
 "What'll we do about the dern thing?" asked Roy. 
 
 "Let it alone," I said. "If it flies out, so much the 
 better. And to-morrow you get rid of yours, too, Roy. 
 Come on." 
 
 I shoved them out the door, and pulled it shut and 
 locked it. Then we slipped down the steps and around 
 to the left, toward the river path. Something told me 
 that already the Red Runners were too near for us to 
 get away without being seen. So I drew my boys into 
 the shadow, and not too soon, either, for up the river 
 path came two dark shapes, but even in the night time I 
 knew those shapes for Harkinson and Long Tom. They 
 stopped beneath the window. I saw a flash of light 
 move rapidly up the side of the shack as Long Tom 
 snapped on his electric lamp. He held it close to the 
 window pane, and together they peered in. 
 
 "They've got it," came in a whisper from Long 
 Tom. "They've got it in a cage. Easy. Hold this 
 light." 
 
 They worked at the window for a minute, then 
 I heard the sash raised. 
 
 "Here y'are," whispered Long Tom again. "Put 
 yer foot up. I'll give you a lift." 
 
 Harkinson's clumsy shape moved up and into the 
 window. Long Tom turned the light upon the cage 
 that stood upon the cupboard. The little speckled 
 
 164
 
 A PAIR OF OWLS 
 
 bird no longer sat on top. Only Roy's captured bird 
 was there for Harkinson. He worked at the cage so 
 quickly, turning his head often to see that no one but 
 Long Tom was below, that he did not, perhaps, realize 
 that owls may look alike, and yet be different birds. Just 
 what happened in there between Harkinson and the caged 
 bird I cannot tell. I do know that there came a flutter 
 of wings as Harkinson reached into the cage. Then came 
 a yell from Harkinson, and the flashlight dropped from 
 Long Tom's hand as Harkinson came tumbling through 
 the window, and both boys rolled over the ground. They 
 rolled a few feet away from the shack. Then Harkinson 
 picked himself up and ran back, and, stooping, picked 
 up the flashlight and turned it on. Something moved 
 upon the ground below the window a little round shape 
 Harkinson uttered a savage cry and brought the flash- 
 light down with a thud. Long Tom was up and by his 
 side by now. Together they looked upon the pile of 
 feathers that lay in the circle of light that fell from the 
 electric lamp. It quivered once, and then was still. 
 I heard Roy give a smothered cry of angry surprise 
 as the light disclosed his owl dead at Harkinson's 
 feet. 
 
 "The thing got me," said Harkinson to Long Tom. 
 "Seemed like it took hah* my finger. Lend me your 
 han'kchif, Long Tom?" 
 
 " 'Taint your own, then?" asked Long Tom, as he 
 wrapped his handkerchief around Harkinson's bleeding 
 finger. 
 
 "Naw," replied Harkinson, "it fooled me, though. 
 I'll get Becky soon's you tie up my hand. Gosh, how 
 it bleeds. His old crooked beak dug right in. Lucky it 
 didn't take the whole finger." 
 
 The hand wrapped, Harkinson drew from under his 
 165
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 long coat an old brass horn and blew a shrill blast upon 
 it. It woke echoes all through the wood, and running 
 feet, for the Red Runners began to come in, and flapping 
 wings, for the pet owl knew that its master was calling 
 we saw the little speckled shape float out of our window as 
 the notes of the horn died away. Harkinson called in a 
 strange tone, and the pet settled upon his shoulder. 
 
 We crouched lower in the shadow of the steps as 
 from the woods came the Red Runners in answer to 
 the call of the horn. They huddled around their leaders 
 for a few minutes, talking in low tones, and then Harkin- 
 son stooped and picked up Roy's dead owl and flung it 
 through the window into the clubhouse. Then, silently, 
 in single file, raced the Red Runners down to the river 
 where their boat waited. 
 
 "What's the trouble?" called a voice from the path. 
 It was Doc Waters. "I heard that horn, Hawkins. If 
 I'm not mistaken I heard that before. It used to mean 
 trouble. Come up out of that dark, will you? Tell me 
 what's up." 
 
 I felt safe with Doc. "Come in," I said, and we un- 
 locked and lit up. I told Doc as quickly as I could what 
 had happened. He listened with a frowning face. 
 
 "How many times must I tell you not to take chances, 
 Hawkins?" he asked when I finished. "Some of these 
 days one of these Watertown boys " 
 
 He stopped as his eyes caught sight of the dead owl 
 upon the floor, where it had fallen when Harkinson threw 
 it in the window. 
 
 "Great Scott!" he exclaimed. "Where did whose 
 is that?" 
 
 "That's one of the owls I was telling you about. Roy 
 trapped it in his pop's barn " 
 
 166
 
 167
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "Well, if that ain't one of the finest horned owls I 
 ever saw that's the first time I ever saw one around here. 
 Say, boys, Judge Granbery would give a ten-dollar 
 bill for that bird and have it stuffed " 
 
 "We will take it up to his house right away," I said. 
 Which we did. 
 
 168
 
 XVII 
 
 Seventh in Line 
 
 THERE were two fellows in the group sitting around 
 the campfire that I was glad to see when I came 
 down after school for the regular meeting. Robby 
 Hood and Shadow Loomis were there, talking with the 
 other fellows as if they were perfectly at home. 
 
 "Hi, there," I called. "Looks like we will have a full 
 house for one meeting, anyhow." 
 
 They got up and came to meet me, and they looked 
 happy. 
 
 "Heard about your escape from Harkinson and Long 
 Tom," said Shadow. "The boys were just telling us." 
 
 "And about the owls, too," added Robby Hood, 
 laughing. 
 
 "Hot times we've been having," I said. "Where in 
 the world do you fellows keep yourself? We thought 
 sure you would come to our meetings once in a while." 
 
 "They was afraid Lew Hunter would make 'em sing," 
 said Jerry Moore. 
 
 "Can't be a member lest you join the singing prac- 
 tice," said Lew Hunter. 
 
 "I've got a fine voice, Lew," said Shadow, with a 
 grin. "I think I sing falsetto, or something like that." 
 
 "You'll have to join the Pelhams, then," said Lew. 
 "They're the only ones that sing false around here. 
 They're false in and out, everything they do." 
 
 "Let 'em be," said Shadow; "let 'em be. Gee, I'd 
 like to have one of 'em say something smart to me. I'd 
 make him like Pelham better than this side of the river." 
 
 169
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "How about the Red Runners?" I asked. "What do 
 you know about them, Shadow?" 
 
 "They're still running," said Shadow. "I've man- 
 aged to keep clear of 'em so far; but Androf ski's sworn 
 that he will get me yet, no matter how I dodge 
 him." 
 
 "Androfski?" I repeated; "that's a new one on me, 
 Shadow. Who's this Androfski?" 
 
 "You've seen him if you ever saw the Red Runners," 
 said Shadow. "He's the third one in the line as they run 
 first comes Long Tom, then Harkinson, then Androfski. 
 You might call him the third leader. You see, they al- 
 ways run in the order of their importance. When Long 
 Tom and Harkinson are away, Androfski is the boy who 
 takes charge." 
 
 "They sure do keep order," said Dick Ferris. "If 
 I could keep my boys in line like that, and make them 
 jump and run when I blow a horn, we'd be able to do 
 anything." 
 
 "What's this Andrewski got against you, Shadow?" 
 I asked. 
 
 "Androfski, I told you his name was," replied Shadow. 
 "Robby's acquainted with him, too. He's just naturally 
 mean, Androfski is; not that he has anything on Har- 
 kinson or Long Tom at that. But he never forgets the 
 time I caught him swiping the milk from our front porch. 
 Maw had been missing it for a week, and I got up earlier 
 than usual one morning and laid for the thief. In a little 
 while this greasy Androfski came sneaking around. I 
 let him get away the first time. I though maybe some- 
 body else had been doing it the other mornings. But 
 the next morning I caught him as he was lifting the bottle 
 he hit me with the dern thing and made me look like 
 I was whitewashed when he broke the bottle on my head 
 
 170
 
 SEVENTH IN LINE 
 
 and the milk went over me. I had an awful lump on my 
 bean for a week. But you ought to see what Androfski 
 had for two weeks. Yeah, I did him up proper, and he 
 ain't forgot it. Only a week ago a brick dropped off a 
 roof and fell a few feet from where I passed on the side- 
 walk. I looked up just in time to see Androfski jerk his 
 greasy face back from the edge of the roof. Then I 
 crossed the street and went on up the other side." 
 
 "You don't say!"blurted out Jerry Moore. "Does 
 he do those Red Runners play such dangerous games?" 
 
 "Games?" repeated Shadow. "Some game, I calls 
 it." 
 
 "I'd tell the Sheriff on him, I would," said Johnny 
 McLarren. 
 
 "I did. I thought I ought to, because he might pick 
 out some other fellow, you know, a guy who might not 
 be able to care take of himself like I always do. And the 
 Sheriff heard something about the Red Runners that 
 made him mad. Anyway, he told us that we would be 
 doing him a favor if we would capture the leaders and 
 turn 'em over to him. Didn't he, Robby?" 
 
 "Yeah; yesterday he told us. That's why we came. 
 We thought we ought to talk this over. Maybe we will 
 get a chance to nab the whole bunch, or two or three 
 of 'em, anyway." 
 
 "Come up to the clubhouse," said Dick Ferris; 
 "it's time to hold our meeting." 
 
 It was Perry Stokes's turn to watch, and he stayed 
 on the river bank while we went up into the clubhouse 
 and held our meeting. The boys all paid their dues, and 
 Robby and Shadow paid what they owed for the last 
 few weeks they missed. Our little tin treasury box is 
 getting rich again. I think we might be able to save a nice 
 little sum. But most likely, when we do, something will 
 
 171
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 come along and cost us a big pile, and blooey! Treasury 
 is only a tin box again. 
 
 We talked about how we would watch and wait for 
 the time when we could capture the Red Runners all 
 together when they least expected it. Shadow said 
 it would be best that way, because, if we did catch only 
 one or two the others would be mighty careful not to get 
 into such a net again. But Shadow said if we could 
 only get one or two we would do so and take a chance. 
 Robby Hood said it wouldn't be an easy job, and I 
 agreed with Robby. Jerry Moore talked as if he could 
 do it single-handed, catch the whole bunch himself, and 
 make 'em goose-march right to the Sheriff. But Jerry 
 always like to tell stories. He always used to read fairy 
 tales to Little Prankie Kane. Now he doesn't read 'em 
 any more, he makes 'em up himself . 
 
 "Hawkins," said Shadow to me, as the meeting broke 
 up, "Robby's been telling me about that wonderful 
 Cave River in which so much happened down here. 
 I'm dying to see that there river, buddy." 
 
 "Good night!" I said. "We've been steering clear 
 of it, Shadow. So much trouble came to us in the old 
 cave. That's where Stoner " 
 
 "I told him about that," said Robby Hood; "but it's 
 all past now. Let's take Shadow up and show him the 
 river. I bet you never saw a river go into a cliff like this 
 does, Shadow." 
 
 "No," said Shadow, "it must be fine. That's why I 
 want to see it." 
 
 We took two canoes and paddled down the river, 
 Dick Ferris and I in the first one, and Shadow and Robby 
 in the second. Dick looked a bit gloomy. 
 
 "My pop would lam me if he knew I was going in 
 there," he said. "How about you, Hawkins?" 
 
 172
 
 SEVENTH IN LINE 
 
 "Same here," I answered; "but I got to oblige a 
 friend. I'll just have to hope that pop don't find out. 
 And if he does, why, I guess I just have to take that risk, 
 Dick." 
 
 The willows still hung over the old mouth of Cave 
 River. It was a year since I had seen the old place, but, 
 now that I got close to it, I felt a strange wish to see 
 inside it again. How many times how many strange 
 memories that old place brought back and thoughts 
 of the Skinny Guy 
 
 "The water's high, duck your head," called Dick 
 Ferris to the canoe behind, as we shot under the willows 
 and through the low arch of Cave River's doorway, and 
 we were in the gloomy cave under the cliff. The sound 
 of water running through and the dripping from the ceil- 
 ing was all that came to our ears after we had passed 
 through the low doorway that separated us from the 
 outside world. We could hear the paddling of the canoe 
 behind us. Then the rays of our flashlights began play- 
 ing up and down the sides of the cave. 
 
 "Some hole this is," called Shadow Loomis. 
 "Wouldn't think it was here if you didn't know it, would 
 you?" 
 
 His voice sounded hollow, and the echoes came back 
 double from the far corners of the cave. We paddled on 
 in silence till we reached the flat table rock that stood on 
 the left side of the Cave River. Here we jumped out 
 and pulled up our canoes. For five minutes we stood 
 there, our lights turned on the long, hanging points that 
 looked like icicles, and which threw back rays of differ- 
 ent colored light. We told Shadow of our strange ad- 
 ventures in this part of the cave; of the Skinny Guy's 
 tricks, of the Chinese magic, and all those things about 
 which I wrote a long time ago. Shadow seemed to be 
 
 178
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 enchanted; he was so surprised to find a place like this 
 here on our own home grounds. 
 
 And just as I was telling him that scarey part of the 
 Chinese magic there came a sound that startled us all into 
 fits. It was as though a few stones had been loosened 
 and tumbled down from some of those galleries that ran 
 around above us among those hanging icicle things. 
 That was all. We heard them skip down and down 
 until they landed with a splash in Cave River. We all 
 put out our lights in a hurry. 
 
 "Somebody is up there," whispered Robby Hood. 
 "He can't be one of your boys, can he Hawkins?" 
 
 "No," I whispered, "none of 'em's allowed to come 
 here. May be a Pelham. Shall we sneak up and take a 
 look?" 
 
 "No," said Robby, "he has to come back this way 
 to get out. We will wait here." 
 
 "There's another opening," I said, "up above it 
 opens out through a little hole in a hillside on the main 
 road where a tree is growing out of the hill " 
 
 "Listen," said Shadow, "I've been thinking about 
 this here Chinese magic you boys saw in here maybe 
 you could have been mistaken. Supposing " 
 
 "Jump!" yelled Dick Ferris. He had just turned on 
 his flashlight again and saw it not a minute too soon. We 
 jumped back as a big stone came bounding down from 
 above us and splashed itself into the Cave River beside 
 us. 
 
 "By Golly!" I cried. "That's too much. I bet it's a 
 Pelham. Come on, you fellows, if you're game. I'm 
 goin' to get him." 
 
 The echoes of our running feet as we sped across 
 the table rock and started up the rock shelf that led up to 
 the gallery under the ceiling; the flashing of our lights 
 
 174
 
 SEVENTH IN LINE 
 
 as we hurried on; the sound of something or somebody 
 ahead of us 
 
 "There he goes," yelled Dick Ferris, "right through 
 the hole." 
 
 "Don't let 'im get away," called Shadow Loomis. 
 
 Daylight was coming through a little hole in the side 
 of the cave ahead of us. A shadow darkened it as we saw 
 a boy squeezing himself through, but only for a minute, 
 and then he was gone, and daylight streamed through 
 the opening again. Shadow and Robby reached it first, 
 and were through it by the time I came out, Dick at 
 my heels. As I joined them they were standing there, 
 looking at a running boy who had started back toward our 
 river bank as fast as he could go. No use to follow, I 
 knew. He could run, and why shouldn't he? He wore 
 a red sweater he was one of the Red Runners, who were 
 famous for their speed, because they practiced running 
 more than anything else. 
 
 But then we saw that red jacket slow up suddenly. 
 I wondered why, but I saw the reason a second after- 
 ward. The reason was Jerry Moore, who headed him off, 
 and behind Jerry was Johnny McLarren and Bill Darby 
 and Perry Stokes. They ran for the Red Runner, but 
 he turned in his tracks and started running back, and 
 would have got away, too, but for us. He saw us coming 
 down, and he was puzzled for a moment, and looked 
 this way and that as though wondering which way was 
 best to escape. That pause cost him dearly, for 
 Jerry Moore is a pretty fair runner himself, and the 
 way he fell upon that Red Runner brought them both 
 tumbling in the sand. The Red Runner fought gamely 
 but Bill Darby and Perry Stokes came to Jerry's side, and 
 they had made the first capture of a Red Runner. 
 
 "Ah!" said Jerry, as we came up. He was sitting 
 175
 
 v AW THEY MAFE THE Ftet>Y CAPTURE 
 
 176
 
 SEVENTH IN LINE 
 
 upon the fallen Red Runner, who had given in. "I knew 
 there was a spy around here, Hawkins. And I told you 
 I'd get him, too. Didn't I?" 
 
 We were all sitting around the table in the clubhouse. 
 Our prisoner stood before us, his hands tied behind 
 his back. Perry Stokes stood at the door with a gun 
 to prevent escape. Both Robby and Shadow stepped up 
 to take a look at the Red Runner's face. "Never saw 
 this one before," said Shadow "Me neither," said 
 Robby. "They get new ones sometimes." 
 
 "What's your name, boy?" I asked. He looked sulky 
 for a minute, but I smiled at him and asked him again: 
 "What's your name, kid?" 
 
 "Lasky," he said, in a low voice. 
 
 "You're a Red Run- 
 ner, I guess?" I asked 
 again. 
 
 "Wouldn't do me 
 any good to lie about 
 that," answered Lasky; 
 "you see my sweater. 
 I'm proud to say it; 
 seventh in line; that's 
 me." 
 
 "Got 'em all num- 
 bered and everything," 
 I said. "Fine business, 
 those Red Runners got, 
 and you're a spy, ain't 
 you?" 
 
 "You guessed it." 
 "Harkinson sent 
 you?" 
 
 19
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "No, we take turns; it was my turn. Nobody sends 
 us. We know when it's our turn." 
 
 "Ain't that wonderful, Shadow?" I asked. "These 
 Red Runners work like clockwork. What did you find 
 out, Seventh-in-Line Lasky? What you goin' to tell 
 when you get back? That is, if we let you get back?" 
 
 "Nothin'. I ain't seen or heard nothin'. My turn's 
 up to-night. I ain't got nothin' to report." 
 
 Something told me the Seventh-in-Line was telling 
 the truth, and wasn't afraid to tell it. I sort o' liked 
 Lasky for that, even though he was a Red Runner. 
 
 "Well," I said, "the Sheriff of Watertown wants 
 all you boys. Did you hear about that?" 
 
 "Yeah," Lasky nodded as he spoke; "we all know it. 
 I kinda thought I might get caught by you fellas some 
 day. But a fella has to take that chance, and I took 
 it and lost." 
 
 I walked up to Seventh-in-Line Lasky and quickly 
 opened my pocket-knife and cut the ropes that bound 
 his hands. 
 
 "All right, Lasky," I said, "beat it. You haven't 
 anything to report." 
 
 He smiled, surprised, as he looked up at me, and then 
 around the faces behind the table. Then, without a word, 
 he turned to the door. I motioned Perry Stokes to let 
 him pass, and he stepped aside. The Red Runner leaped 
 clear of the porch and sped down the path to the river, 
 and I thought most likely maybe he had a skiff or some- 
 thing hidden down there. 
 
 The boys sat staring at me, as if I was the biggest 
 fool they ever saw. Shadow Loomis was the only one who 
 had a half smile on his face and seemed to understand 
 what I was doing. 
 
 "Well, if you ain't a bonehead!" Jerry Moore blurted 
 178
 
 SEVENTH IN LINE 
 
 out. "If I'd a known you was goin' to set him free, dern 
 if I wouldn't have punched him a couple first. What's 
 the use catchin' these Red Runners if you're gonna set 
 'em free right away?" 
 
 "Catch the Red Runners and I won't set a single 
 one free, Jerry," I answered him. "Lasky is only seventh 
 in line, you know. Say, Shadow, we left our canoes up 
 in Cave River. If you're not afraid of Chinese magic 
 we'd better go up and bring 'em back." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 179
 
 XVIII 
 
 A Hallowe'en Phantom 
 
 I DON'T think Seventh-in-Line Lasky ever told 
 Harkinson or the other Red Runners that we had 
 captured him. And I don't think he ever forgot 
 that I turned him loose. I kind o' think he expected us 
 to turn him over to the Sheriff. He knew the Sheriff 
 was after the Red Runners. But I remember the last 
 look Lasky gave me as he turned and flew out of our 
 clubhouse. It was a kind of a thankful look. As if he 
 wanted me to know that he understood that I had set 
 him free, and got him out of a fix that he couldn't have 
 hoped to escape from without my help. 
 
 But I didn't do it for anything like that. No. I 
 figured it out quickly myself, and so did Shadow Loomis. 
 Lasky was seventh in line. He didn't count for much 
 in the Red Runners. And he hadn't found out anything 
 to report during his spying upon our headquarters. 
 What harm, then, would there be in turning him loose? 
 What good would it have done to turn Lasky over to 
 the Sheriff? No; if we had caught Harkinson, or Long 
 Tom, or any of the others, why, I might have thought 
 different. But Lasky; no, he wouldn't be much use 
 to the Sheriff. 
 
 Jerry Moore did not quite forgive me for letting Lasky 
 go. Jerry had caught him, and had made the first cap- 
 ture of a Red Runner. To Jerry, that meant a whole lot, 
 for Jerry is kind o' stuck on his smartness, and what he 
 can do. All the week afterward he was sore at me; he 
 would hardly talk to me. Yet he knew that it wouldn't 
 
 180
 
 A HALLOWE'EN PHANTOM 
 
 have done any good to hold Lasky. I made him own up 
 to that. But he stayed sulky, and kept away from me as 
 much as he could. 
 
 But, now, Halloween-time was coming on, and the 
 boys were busy, and the clubhouse was humming. Funny 
 how a time like Halloween always makes the fellows 
 hustle around more than other times. Perry Stokes 
 would sneak away from the clubhouse each afternoon as 
 soon as the meeting would be over. Each night when 
 he returned he carried in a sack a fine pumpkin. Al- 
 ready there were five fine, big pumpkins lying on our 
 clubhouse floor, waiting to be cut into jack-lanterns. 
 
 "Perry," I said, "where do you get these fine things?" 
 
 "Oh, the punkins?" 
 
 "Sure, you know what I mean well enough. Whose 
 pumpkin patch have you been robbing, Perry? Do 
 you know it ain't honest?" 
 
 "I didn't steal from no punkin patch, Hawkins. 
 These grow wild down on the edge of the woods by Bur- 
 neys' field." 
 
 "Wild? Wild pumpkins, Perry?" 
 
 "Yes, wild ones, sir. There's a lot of 'em right by 
 Burney's " 
 
 "Go on," I said, "you know these fine things don't 
 grow wild. You've been stealing 'em." 
 
 I wouldn't talk to him any more about the pumpkins, 
 but I could see that Perry was hurt by the way I scolded 
 him. 
 
 Roy Dobel took Shadow Loomis and Hobby Hood 
 and me down to his pop's farm one afternoon, and said 
 we could ride the horses that were in the pasture if we 
 could catch them. I had a dickens of a time catching 
 mine, but Shadow Loomis can do anything. He had 
 his before any of us, and I caught mine last of all. We 
 
 181
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 had a pretty good ride then, and we must have gone five 
 miles out on the road before we thought of turning back. 
 The next day, when the other fellows heard of it, of 
 course, they had to go horseback riding, too. I tell 
 you, when all of the boys went along we looked like an 
 army. And how we made the dust fly! Those were 
 happy afternoons. We all got to know our own horses. 
 Each fellow always picked out the same horse to ride. 
 Shadow Loomis always gave his old brown horse some- 
 thing to eat. I think it was a lump of sugar. Any- 
 way, every time he got off the old plug he would give 
 it a handful of something. The third day after we began 
 riding, Shadow's old horse would follow him around. 
 Looking for something to eat, I guess. Shadow never had 
 to catch his horse any more after that. As soon as we 
 would come to the field the old plug that Shadow rode 
 would come running to him, while all the rest of us would 
 have to go running after ours and spend fifteen minutes 
 chasing 'em before we could get on. 
 
 Well, the horseback riding was fine for a few days. 
 And, during all this time, we did not have any trouble, 
 either with the Pelhains or the Red Runners. It seemed 
 as though our enemies had quit bothering us. But, 
 of course, that was too good to be true. 
 
 Still, I always say that if it had not been for Perry's 
 pumpkins, we wouldn't have got into trouble that day. 
 I'll tell you how it was. We had all met at the club- 
 house, and, after our meeting, we had gone riding again. 
 I asked Robby Hood and Shadow Loomis to stay for 
 supper at my house, which they did. After supper I 
 said I was going down to the clubhouse to do some 
 writing for a little while, and they could come down if 
 they wanted to. But Shadow said he was going up to 
 a place he knew in our town where they made false faces 
 
 182
 
 A HALLOWE'EN PHANTOM 
 
 and masquerade suits for Halloween. Robby said he 
 would like to have one, too. So they both set off together, 
 while I went down to the clubhouse. 
 
 Jerry was on watch there that night. He said "Hi" 
 very shortly he didn't talk much to me since I let Lasky 
 go and he sat on the step with the gun, while I unlocked 
 the door and went in. I had been writing in my office 
 about ten minutes when Jerry came in and said: "There's 
 a man outside." 
 
 For a minute I was a little excited. I thought maybe 
 he was going to say it was a Red Runner out there. But 
 right after he said it in came a man whom I had never 
 seen before. 
 
 "Beggin' your pardon," he said, "I don't like to in- 
 trude, but I came you are Seckatary Hawkins, I take 
 it?" 
 
 "That's what all the boys call me," I answered. 
 
 "Yes, yes. I knew it was you, sir, the moment I 
 set my eyes upon you. You, perhaps, don't know me. 
 I am the butler at Judge Granbery's Perry's father, 
 sir." 
 
 "Oh," I said, "Perry Stokes, yes, I know him. Glad 
 to meet you, Mr. Stokes. I like your son very much. 
 He sure is a fine boy." 
 
 "But he's not at home, sir," said Mr. Stokes; "it's 
 strange, you know, him not home for his evening meal. 
 His mother can't understand it at all, and we thought 
 you might " 
 
 "That's right," I said to myself, "Perry was not 
 with us out riding this afternoon." 
 
 Then, to Perry's father, I said : 
 
 "Did he say where he was going when he left home 
 to-day?" 
 
 "No, he never does any more. His mother thinks 
 183
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 he is always with you boys. Is it possible that he could 
 have taken a boat and gone down the river?" 
 
 "Mr. Stokes," I said, "if you will go home and not 
 worry I will get my boys busy at once and we will scout 
 around. I'll let you hear from me if we can't find him." 
 
 So, after I had got rid of Perry's father, I called 
 Jerry Moore in and told him what I had heard. Jerry 
 grunted. "Huh! It's no wonder. Him stealing pump- 
 kins every day I knew it, Hawkins. One of those 
 farmers got him and prob'ly had him locked up or some- 
 thing." 
 
 "You're right, Jerry," I said. "Would you care to 
 take a trip down towards Burney's Field with me?" 
 
 "It's a purty lonesome place, Hawkins," said Jerry. 
 
 "Sure, but it won't be lonesome if you and I go to- 
 gether." 
 
 Just then came Robby and Shadow Loomis. Each 
 carried a bundle in his arm. 
 
 "Wait till you see my Halloween suit, Hawkins," 
 said Shadow. 
 
 "I haven't time for anything now, boys," I said. "Jerry 
 and I have got to scout around and find Perry Stokes. 
 He hasn't been home to his supper, and his maw's wor- 
 ried sick." Then I told them what we had heard. They 
 wanted to come along, but I told them to stay in the 
 clubhouse together and lock the door and wait till we 
 came back. 
 
 Jerry and I were soon paddling in a eanoe down the 
 river, and a short distance down we crossed over to 
 the Pelham side and pulled up our canoe and hid it 
 behind the trees. Then we started lickety-split for Bur- 
 ney's Field. That's where Perry had said the pumpkins 
 were growing wild. If he had gone for another pumpkin 
 he had gone toward Burney's Field, and, if he had 
 
 184
 
 A HALLOWE'EN PHANTOM 
 
 gotten into trouble, it was most likely somewhere 
 around Burney's Field that we should find him. And it 
 was. But it was strange how we should find him at 
 that. Stranger than you would imagine. 
 
 "What's that red in the sky?" asked Jerry, as we 
 shoved through the woods. 
 
 "That's a fire somewhere," I said. "A bonfire, most 
 likely, but not a big one, or it would be redder." 
 
 I took the lead and shoved on ahead. The woods 
 thin out near the edge of Burney's Field. And we had 
 come out suddenly into the red glow of the fire. Our 
 footsteps had made enough noise. Yet, as we neared 
 it through the woods, I thought I had heard talking and 
 laughing. But there it was, only a big fire, blazing high. 
 
 "Somebody's been here, and not very long ago," 
 said Jerry, "for there is fresh wood on that fire see how 
 it blazes." 
 
 I was about to say something about that myself when 
 there came a loud yelling, and from the trees all around 
 us sprang a dozen Red Runners. They jumped upon us 
 like wild cats, and we were pinned to the ground. At 
 once they stopped their yelling. Not another sound 
 they made. Harkinson was not there. I looked eagerly 
 into every face to see if the old hypnotizer or Long Tom 
 was among them. But both the leaders were absent. 
 The one who gave orders, while the rest tied us up, 
 was a greasy, dark-haired, hook-nosed fellow, whom I 
 imagined was Androfski, the fellow Shadow Loomis told 
 us about. In a few minutes, less than it takes to tell, 
 they had us tied to trees about four feet apart. When we 
 were tied tight they seemed to forget all about us and 
 walked back to the fire and sat down, talking in low whis- 
 pers. I counted them. There was an even dozen. 
 
 "Fine boobs we are to walk into this trap," muttered 
 185
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 Jerry to me. I didn't feel like talking. "Look there," 
 whispered Jerry. I followed his pointing and saw, tied 
 to another tree, Perry Stokes, his head bowed upon his 
 breast, sound asleep. If he had not been tied so fast 
 to that tree he would have fallen down in a heap, but I 
 don't think he would have awakened. Anybody who 
 can sleep like that won't wake up very easily. 
 
 "We've got to get loose, Jerry," I whispered. "How 
 are your hands?" 
 
 "Tight," said Jerry in a low tone. "No use. Can't 
 even move my foot." 
 
 "Listen." 
 
 Across Burney's Field came a sound the sound of 
 hoof beats. The Red Runners had heard it, too. I won- 
 dered if they were waiting for Harkinson or Long Tom to 
 come and decide what they were going to do with us. 
 But the hoofbeats died away. It was only some one pass- 
 ing on the river road, I thought. Another ten minutes 
 we stood. I tried to listen to what the Red Runners 
 were talking about, but they spoke in such low voices that 
 I could not catch a single word. 
 
 "There it comes again." 
 
 The sound of a horse galloping toward us. It sounded 
 near this time. We could make out a dim shadow now, 
 and it was on the other side of us, riding away from us, 
 across Burney's Field. Slowly the sound of those gal- 
 loping hoofs died out again. "Dern it," said Jerry Moore, 
 "what's their game, anyhow? I'm going to get out of 
 this if I have to break down this tree." 
 
 Then came a yell. It was the worst, blood-curdling 
 yell I ever heard. It came from the other end of Burney's 
 Field, and it rolled down to us like the cry of a wolf. I 
 saw some of the Red Runners get up from their places 
 around the fire and stare into the dark across the blaze 
 
 186
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 of their fire. Then canie the sound of hoofs again, 
 coming toward us, faster and faster. All the Red Run- 
 ners jumped up now. The hoofbeats were sounding in 
 the middle of the field. Several Red Runners sprang 
 forward and then jumped back again. Quickly they 
 whispered together for a few moments. It was easy to 
 see that they were as much puzzled as we were. And 
 then 
 
 And then with another frightful howl that sent 
 the chills up my back there came into the outer edge 
 of light a frightful figure what could you make of a 
 shape that was no shape yet it sounded like a horse 
 galloping yet looked like nothing that was ever seen 
 before. The Red Runners yelled in fright, sprang for 
 the woods behind us, and fled away. I looked just once 
 and closed my eyes as I saw that on-coming shape 
 leap through the fire and scatter the burning wood in a 
 million sparks in every direction. For the one look that 
 I had at that ugly, ghostly thing had nearly scared me to 
 death. It was a yellow thing an ugly headed thing, 
 upon which sat a wolf-faced rider, the ugliest sight I 
 ever saw. I say I closed my eyes when I took the first 
 look. 
 
 But I opened them quickly when I heard Shadow 
 Loomis yelling in my ear. 
 
 "What's a matter, Hawkins? Look here. How do 
 you like this Halloween suit? It's some masquerade, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 You bet I opened my eyes then. I saw Shadow stand- 
 ing in front of me, dressed in a yellow gown, holding in 
 his hands an ugly painted, pasteboard mask that looked 
 like a big wolf's head, and beside him was his old pet 
 horse, wearing a long yellow covering from his head 
 
 188
 
 A HALLOWE'EN PHANTOM 
 
 to his tail, with two big eye holes, and long fringes on 
 either side that waved in the wind like a hundred tails. 
 Shadow hurried to cut the ropes that tied Jerry 
 and me. 
 
 "Well, of all things," I said. "You nearly scared 
 me and Jerry to death, Shadow." 
 
 "I had to," said Shadow, with a laugh. "I saved 
 you from the Red Runners I just happened to think 
 about it after you boys left. I saw Androfski to-day 
 followed him down all the way from Watertown. Saw 
 the red sky and figured it was his camp he always 
 makes a bonfire where he camps so I just slipped 
 into this old wolf masquerade that I got for Halloween. 
 See that funny one on my horse? That's Robby Hood's. 
 I borrowed it, snuck down and got my horse out o' 
 Dobel's pasture easy enough to catch him soon as I 
 holler. Then I dressed him up and rode to Hobb's 
 Ferry and came over and started for the light. I thought 
 I'd give the Red Runners a good scare while I was at 
 it" 
 
 "You sure gave it to 'em," I broke in. 
 
 "I'll say he did," called somebody across from us. 
 It was Perry Stokes. We had forgotten about him tied 
 to a tree fast asleep. The racket had wakened him. We 
 all three hurried over and got him loose, but he didn't 
 seem any the worse for his long tie-up. He told us the 
 Red Runners had spied him just as he was making for 
 home, and had taken him prisoner. 
 
 "Well," I said, "we'd better get along home as fast 
 as we can. Your maw is worried sick about you not 
 coming home." 
 
 "All right," said Perry, "Wait till I get my punkin." 
 He ran back into the trees and came out with a sack, in 
 which he had another pumpkin. 
 
 189
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "Can you beat that?" said Jerry Moore to me. 
 "He sure is crazy about punkins." 
 
 "Fellas," I said, "if you all got time, I think we better 
 go together and explain how it was that Perry couldn't 
 get home in time for supper to-night." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 190
 
 XIX 
 
 The Face in the Dark 
 
 I TOOK a roundabout way to the clubhouse as I 
 came down after school. I just wanted to see how 
 things looked up the river a little ways, so I went 
 up the main road and then cut down to the river, and 
 came back up along the water. As I neared our wharf I 
 noticed Hobby Hood's boat tied up, and I hurried, 
 because I knew either Robby or Shadow was already at 
 the clubhouse. When I came up I saw both of 'em sitting 
 on the porch steps. 
 
 I was just about to step onto the path when I saw a 
 movement in the bushes. At once I thought it was a 
 Red Runner. But when the fellow lifted his head and 
 peeped over the bushes I saw that it was Briggen, the 
 Pelham leader. He took only one short look at the two 
 boys on the clubhouse steps. Then his head bobbed 
 back down in the bushes, and I heard him scrambling 
 away. 
 
 "Hi, fellas," I said, "y u are sure on time to-day." 
 
 "Easy when the Red Runners ain't around," said 
 Shadow. "I haven't seen Harkinson for a week. The 
 rest of 'em are keeping to themselves since I gave them 
 that scare on Burney's field." 
 
 The boys arrived soon and we held our meeting 
 and paid our dues. But all the while I was thinking 
 of Briggen hiding in the bushes and wondered why the 
 Pelham leader had been spying on our side. 
 
 Bill Darby had brought down a new football, and as 
 soon as the meeting was over they all rushed down to the 
 
 191
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 hollow to play, except Shadow and Robby and Dick 
 Ferris and me. 
 
 We walked out to the porch and saw Jerry Moore 
 building his campfire on the river bank. 
 
 "Same old Jerry," said Robby Hood. "Wherever 
 you see him standing you'll see a fire burning in a short 
 time." 
 
 We all walked down and sat around Jerry's fire or 
 smoke, rather, for he seemed to be having a hard time 
 getting it started. 
 
 "Hello, old Hippopotamus," said Shadow, grinning at 
 Jerry. Shadow always liked to call the boys nick-names. 
 
 "Hello, old Fox," answered Jerry. (Jerry was kind 
 o' quick about giving names himself.) "How comes 
 the hounds ain't chasin' you to-day, old Fox?" 
 
 "Hain't seen no hounds to-day yet," laughed Shadow 
 in a comical voice; "but looky yonder what kind o' 
 water babies you call those comin' to pay us a visit?" 
 
 We all looked toward the river and saw a boat pull- 
 ing toward us from the Pelham shore. Three Pelham 
 fellows were in it. Briggen, the leader, sat in the stern, 
 while Ham Gardner and Dave Burns pulled hard at the 
 oars, and it took them little or no time to reach our bank. 
 We walked slowly to meet them. They had already 
 leaped out, and Briggen was leading the way to us. 
 
 "What's the trouble, Briggen?" asked our Captain, 
 Dick Ferris. He and Briggen had been good friends 
 in the days gone by, before Dick came back to our side 
 of the river. 
 
 "I ain't got nothin' agin you fellas, Dick," said 
 Briggen, "and Hawkins and the rest. I ain't forgot how 
 you guys helped us get clear of Harkinson last summer. 
 But this yere new guy you got with you, it's him I got 
 to talk to, and all I ask is that you don't butt in." 
 
 192
 
 THE FACE IN THE DARK 
 
 "You want to talk to me?" asked Shadow, stepping 
 up. "My name's Shadow Loomis. I've heard lots about 
 you Pelham fellas, but this is the first time I had the 
 honor to meet you, I think." 
 
 "Never mind the fancy talk," grumbled Briggen. 
 "How come you have such a rutty name as Shadow? 
 You don't look like no shadow to me. You been talk- 
 ing about liking to meet us Pelham fellas, ain't you? 
 Yes, you did. Don't say you didn't, cause I had my 
 boys spying around yere all the time. One of my fellas 
 told me you said you would like to meet us birds; said 
 you would make us like our side of the river better than 
 this side, didn't you?" 
 
 "Something like that," answered Shadow, smiling. 
 "But only if you tried to butt in. As long as you stay 
 where you belong and behave yourself, why, I won't 
 take the trouble of looking you up." 
 
 Briggen snorted, angry and red in the face. 
 
 "Well, let me tell you, smart boy," he cried, "we like 
 our side of the river well enough without any fellas has 
 to make us like it. And whenever we want to we come 
 over here, or we go anywheres else. Ain't nobody told us 
 yet that these fellas owned this side of the river. See?" 
 
 "Cut it out, Briggen," broke in Dick Ferris; "I 
 thought you fellas were going to be good." 
 
 "Wait a minute," said Shadow slowly. "Lemme get 
 a good look at you, Pelham boy where'd I see that face 
 before? Wonder if it could have been in the monkey 
 cage of that circus that came here last spring? You 
 didn't break out o' that, did you?" 
 
 This teasing was too much for Briggen. He made a 
 little motion with one hand, and his two side partners 
 moved back to the boat. Briggen stepped up closer to 
 Shadow Loomis. 
 
 13 193
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "You're a mighty flip talker," he said; "but if you 
 wasn't standing in the middle of your pals, I'd punch 
 that pug nose of yours flat with your face, see?" 
 
 "Try it," said Shadow Loomis. 
 
 Briggen raised his fist, but Shadow quickly lifted 
 one foot and caught the Pelham leader behind his boot 
 and sat him down on the ground with a thump. Brig- 
 gen closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as he landed. 
 We had to laugh, and when he saw us laughing he grew 
 furious. He got up, rubbing his pants, and backed 
 away. 
 
 "All right," he whined. "All right, you got it com- 
 ing to you; just wait." 
 
 Shadow had a smile on his good-looking face as he 
 watched Briggen walk down to the boat, but he did not 
 say another word to the Pelham leader. 
 
 "Come on, fellas," said our Captain. "Let 'em go." 
 
 Shadow gave a little laugh and we turned and started 
 to walk up the bank. I just happened to turn my head 
 a little and saw Briggen running up behind Shadow. 
 
 "Look out!" I yelled. 
 
 Bam! Briggen's fist caught Shadow right in the 
 back of the neck, and he stumbled forward. As we 
 sprang to help him to his feet, Briggen dashed back to 
 his boat. 
 
 "Doggone," muttered Shadow, "that's the way they 
 fight, is it?" 
 
 It was no use to follow. The Pelham boat had pushed 
 off, and was already out in the deep water. Briggen was 
 standing in the middle of the boat shaking his fist at 
 us. "And next time I'll give you worse than that," he 
 yelled. 
 
 "Like fun you will," shouted Shadow with a grin. 
 "Try it!" 
 
 194
 
 THE FACE IN THE DARK 
 
 We walked back and sat down around Jerry's camp- 
 fire. For a while no one spoke. Then Jerry said : 
 
 "Say, Shadow, you're not going to let him get away 
 with that, are you?" 
 
 Shadow seemed to be dreaming as he gazed into the 
 fire. 
 
 "Who, Briggen?" he asked. Then he looked at the 
 fire awhile, and said, slowly, "No, I kind o' think Brig- 
 gen will get paid back some way. I always take my 
 time." 
 
 Just then Robby Hood came up with the other boys 
 who had ended their football playing. 
 
 "Robby, please get my suitcase out o s your launch, 
 will you, buddy?" asked Shadow. 
 
 Robby would do anything for Shadow Loomis. He 
 came back in a little while with the little brown suitcase. 
 Seemed like Shadow never went anywhere without that 
 suitcase. He carried all his magic tricks in it. And when 
 I saw Robby bring it up I knew right away that Briggen 
 was going to get paid back some way. Shadow took a 
 little square box from his suitcase and said: 
 
 "Will you show me Briggen's headquarters to-night, 
 Hawkins?" 
 
 "Sure," I answered. "But it's near supper-time, 
 and we better be getting home. You and Robby come up 
 to my house. My maw will be glad to see you. And she 
 baked some apple pies " 
 
 "Oh, boy !" said Robby Hood. "Listen to those apple 
 pies. Come on, Shadow, you won't be sorry you went 
 after you taste that pie Hawkins's mother makes." 
 
 Shadow seemed as though he did not want to go, 
 but when he heard about apple pie . Aw, well, I never 
 saw a boy yet who didn't like apple pie. 
 
 195
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 Lew Hunter and Dick Ferris were the first ones down 
 after supper. We heard the organ playing and Dick 
 singing. Shadow made us stop outside and listen till 
 the song ended. "Gosh, how that Ferris boy can warble!" 
 he said. Then we went in. We explained to Lew that 
 we wanted him to stay there and keep all the other boys 
 inside the clubhouse when they came. Then we went out, 
 Dick and Shadow and Robby and me, and took Jerry 
 Moore's long, green canoe and started down the river. 
 When we had gone a little ways we turned sharp for the 
 Pelham bank and went across. Reaching the Pelham 
 bank, we pulled the canoe up and began to trot for the 
 Pelham shacks. As we neared the place we could see our 
 clubhouse across the river, and what a pretty sight it was 
 from this distance, all lighted up, and the door opening up 
 every once in a while, which meant that some of the 
 other fellows were arriving and going in. 
 
 "This is Briggen's headquarters," said Dick Ferris, 
 stopping in front of the Pelham leader's shack. "It's 
 not locked, Shadow." 
 
 Shadow pushed in the door and we followed. The 
 ray of light from Shadow's flashlight sketched over the 
 walls. "All right, Robby," he said, "you stand outside 
 and watch if anybody comes. Dick, will you stand in 
 back of the shack and watch? Hawkins, you hold this 
 light for me." 
 
 Dick and Robby followed orders. I took the light 
 and held it while Shadow drew quickly from his pocket 
 the little box I had seen him take from his suitcase. 
 Quickly he worked upon the rear wall of the shack, 
 as though he was drawing a picture. Although he made 
 motions I couldn't see that he left any chalk marks. 
 I held the light right close. 
 
 196
 
 197
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "Hurry!" came Robby's voice from the front. "I 
 hear them coming." 
 
 "Out with the light, Hawkins," whispered Shadow. 
 I slipped my finger off the button and we were in the 
 dark Golly, Moses! What was the thing with hollow 
 eyes and grinning teeth looking at us from the wall? 
 It shocked me for a minute, but then I laughed low 
 to myself as I realized that Shadow had put it there. 
 But if I had not seen Shadow do it, and had come upon 
 that thing alone in the dark, I sure would have turned 
 quick and beat it. It was only marked like a drawing 
 on the wall. I know that. I don't know what kind of 
 stuff it was, or what, but it shivered and glowed like 
 a dull light, and there seemed to be a greenish smoke 
 coming away from it. Of all the spooky things I ever saw 
 this face upon the wall was the limit. 
 
 We heard Robby scampering behind the shack to 
 join Dick. But we were too late to get out, for we could 
 hear Briggen and Ham Gardner talking right outside 
 the door. The door was standing open wide, and we 
 hid behind it, Shadow and I, and peeped through the 
 crack. Briggen and Ham were standing there, looking 
 across the river. The faint sound of Lew's organ play- 
 ing came over the water to us. 
 
 "Looks like Hawkins' bunch is having a big time to- 
 night, Ham," said Briggen. "Maybe we could sneak 
 over and get another smack at that flip Shadda 
 fella." 
 
 "No," said Ham, "don't go back over to-night, 
 Briggen. You forgot to lock your door to-night. Look 
 thar', wide open." 
 
 "Oh, it won't make no difference, nobody would steal 
 anything I got," said Briggen, as he came nearer. We 
 saw him stop suddenly at the doorstep. Then he poked 
 
 198
 
 THE FACE IN THE DARK 
 
 his head into the dark door- The next minute he let out 
 a yell. 
 
 "Oh, Lordy, Ham, look!" he whispered, and as Ham 
 drew up behind his shoulder, Briggen stumbled back- 
 ward with fright. 
 
 "Spooks," he cried in a hoarse voice. "Spooks, Ham, 
 as sure as you live " 
 
 Like a flash Briggen was off up the path that led 
 through the woods. Ham Gardner stayed long enough 
 to take one look at the ugly shivering face that smoked 
 in its green light upon the wall, and then he, too, turned, 
 and as silent as a shadow, followed the path Briggen 
 had taken. 
 
 Shadow Loomis was laughing fit to kill. "Oh, boy!" 
 he cried. "Did you see his face, Hawkins? He was 
 scared to death. Ho, ho, haha " 
 
 "What's up?" came Dick's voice, as he and Robby 
 came to the door with their flashlights. But, strange to 
 say, when the lights were turned on, there was no sign 
 of that face on the wall. 
 
 "Put out your light, Robby," I said. And, then, 
 when we were in the dark again they saw that ugly 
 mug that had frightened the Pelham leader and Ham. 
 
 "I never saw him scared like that before," said Dick, 
 laughing. "How did you make that, Shadow?" 
 
 But Shadow did not answer. He had taken a rag 
 from his pocket and was rubbing it over the wall where 
 the face had been, and I could smell that he had benzine 
 or gasoline on that rag. 
 
 "There!" he said, "it won't bother 'em any more. 
 Come on. I'm ready to go." 
 
 "Say, Shadow," I said, "you mean to say you ain't 
 goin' to give Briggen a licking?" 
 
 "I had my revenge," he said. "You don't always 
 199
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 have to beat a kid to get even, Hawkins. Just to see him 
 scared like that, and to know I scared him, is even enough 
 for me." 
 
 We were trotting down to our canoe, and I thought to 
 myself, I never saw a fellow like Shadow before. We had 
 to laugh every time we thought about how scared Briggen 
 was when he looked into his headquarters. We hurried 
 into the canoe and paddled across. As we stepped out 
 on our shore from far away down the river came the faint 
 sound of a horn. 
 
 "Aha!" exclaimed Shadow, "we got back just in 
 time. Harkinson down on Seven Willows Island. 
 Robby, we will have time to get home ahead of them 
 if we hurry." 
 
 The boys were standing on the clubhouse porch wait- 
 ing for us. They all went down to the water with us and 
 Shadow and Robby started up the river for home. When 
 we saw the tail-light of their little motor boat disappear 
 around the upper bend we started back to the clubhouse. 
 
 "Listen!" Dick Ferris spoke. A little louder this 
 time came the brassy notes of the horn. "Harkinson 
 coming this way," said our Captain. "It's good Shadow 
 and Robby got this early start. And we better put those 
 lights out and hurry home before they come past here." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 800
 
 XX 
 
 The Pelhams in Trouble 
 
 EW HUNTER was cleaning out the old stove in 
 the clubhouse when I came down after school. 
 We had not used the old stove so far this year, 
 and sometimes the clubhouse was a pretty cold place to 
 stay. Most always the fellows would rush out just as 
 soon as our meeting was over and go down to the camp- 
 fire that Jerry Moore always had burning on the river 
 bank as soon as school was out. 
 
 "Listen, Hawkins," said Lew, "you've got to make 
 those kids stay here for singing practice when I tell 'em 
 to. Every day they laugh at me and tell me to sing to 
 myself." 
 
 "You do sound very fine singin' by yourself, Lew," 
 1 said. 
 
 "Don't kid me," said Lew. "Listen, they always 
 say it's too cold to stay in here. Now, I'm goin' to have a 
 fire in this old stove or bust 'er, one or the other. If we 
 ain't got enough money in the treasury box to buy a new 
 one this one's got to do. And, if it works, why, you got to 
 make the fellas stay in to singing practice." 
 
 "All right, Lew," I said, "if the others won't stay, 
 you can count on me to stay, anyhow." 
 
 Dick Ferris came in. 
 
 "Dick," I said, "you better give a few orders for the 
 fellas to gather some firewood. We've got to keep the 
 stove going, you know." 
 
 "Sure," said Dick, "it's time the stove was kept 
 going." 
 
 201
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 So at the meeting Dick got up and made a rule that 
 everybody had to bring seven pieces of firewood in every 
 day. Why he said seven I don't know; but I guess he's 
 got it figured out pretty close. All the boys understood 
 that it was a rule that the Captain made, and nobody 
 made any objection. Right after the meeting they 
 scouted around, and it wasn't very long till each boy 
 had brought in his seven pieces of wood, and a nice pile 
 was stacked up behind the stove. And the old stove 
 was going nicely, and the clubhouse as warm as a fellow 
 could wish. 
 
 Robby Hood and Shadow Loomis had not come to 
 the meeting. The other boys, after the meeting was over, 
 went to the hollow with Bill Darby's football. Lew 
 Hunter and Dick were looking over some new music sheets 
 Lew had bought, and I walked back into my little office 
 and began to write the minutes of the meeting. I didn't 
 like to go out, it felt so warm and nice inside. I hummed 
 along as Lew played the old organ, and Dick sang some 
 of the new pieces, and it seemed to me that there couldn't 
 be a nicer place than this old clubhouse shack in the 
 hollow. 
 
 The music and singing stopped after a while, and I 
 heard Lew and Dick go out. I kept on humming to 
 myself as I wrote, and then I stopped and looked out 
 of the window, watching the boys scrambling for the 
 football in the hollow. I heard the clubhouse door open, 
 but I thought it was Dick or Lew coming back for some- 
 thing. I was just about to call and ask who it was when 
 all of a sudden the curtains parted in my door and the 
 Pelham leader stood there. 
 
 "Briggen," I said, "what do you mean by walking 
 in here just as you please? Don't you know you ain't 
 allowed " 
 
 202
 
 THE PELHAMS IN TROUBLE 
 
 "I had to come," broke in Briggen. "I just had to 
 come, Hawkins. Harkinson and his gang won't let us 
 rest. They been hanging around in the woods back o' 
 our shacks all week. Wherever we go we run into a Red 
 Runner." 
 
 I had to smile at the Pelham leader as I listened to 
 him say that. 
 
 "Briggen," I said, "you must be a fool to play such 
 a dirty trick on our Shadow Loomis last week, and then 
 turn right around and come over here and ask up to help 
 you." 
 
 "Don't preach, Hawkins," said Briggen, with a sour 
 look on his face. "Don't preach to me any more. You 
 know us fellas didn't have no bone to pick with you 
 fellas; it was only that Shadda fella; him that was saying 
 things about us." 
 
 "Listen," I said, pointing my finger at Briggen, 
 "Shadow Loomis is my friend, and he belongs to our 
 club. Whenever you play tricks on him you get in 
 Dutch with all of us, see?" 
 
 Briggen bit his lip and, for a minute, he didn't an- 
 swer. Then he said: 
 
 "I wisht we would'a known that sooner, Hawkins. 
 Cross my heart, I would'a let him alone if we'd'a' 
 known that, even if he did act smart with us. But we 
 won't bother him no more. Only save poor Ham 
 Gardner from Harkinson, and us fellas won't bother you 
 guys no more." 
 
 "Ham?" I repeated. "What has Ham done to Har- 
 kinson that he should " 
 
 "Ham ain't done nothin. It's what Harkinson's 
 done to Ham. Poor kid, he ain't hisself no more. Ever 
 since last summer, when Harkinson was bossin' us boys 
 on the island up there, Ham ain't hisself. He's afraid 
 
 203
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 o' his own shadda, Hawkins. He peeks in everything he 
 passes, thinkin' maybe Harkinson or one o' his redcoats 
 is laying for him. And one night last week they 
 had" 
 
 Briggen stopped and looked back through the cur- 
 tains. His face had a scared look. 
 
 "Hawkins," he said, "them Red Runners are queer. 
 They can make you see ghosts. I don't know if all of 
 'em can, but Harkinson is a hypnotizer. He made me see 
 a spook right in my own shack." 
 
 His voice was a whisper as he leaned over the desk 
 and told me this awful thing. I looked in his eyes and 
 saw that he was really in earnest. But then I laughed out 
 loud. 
 
 "Go on," I said. "Don't let him kid you like that, 
 Briggen." 
 
 "You don't have to believe me," said Briggen, "ask 
 Ham. He saw it, too. I never saw a ghost before, 
 but I know what they look like now. This sure was one, 
 Hawkins. Ham ain't been hisself since. And every 
 time he hears that horn he thinks he has to get right up 
 and go. He thinks Harkinson is calling for him, and he 
 must go and do as he says. Now, tell me, Hawkins, 
 is that a way for a kid to be ascared of a fella?" 
 
 I did not answer Briggen right away. I sat there 
 and looked at him, while my mind was busy thinking. 
 It was a cinch that neither Briggen nor Ham Gardner 
 ever found out that it was Shadow Loomis who fixed up 
 that face in the dark that looked out at them when they 
 entered Briggen's shack that night. They figured out 
 that it was Harkinson alone who could do such a thing, 
 and they really believed that it was a ghost. Most any 
 boy is afraid of anything that looks like a ghost, especially 
 when it is such a thing as a glowing face in the dark. 
 
 204
 
 THE PELHAMS IN TROUBLE 
 
 But the Pelhams are more likely to believe in such 
 things than other fellas. 
 
 Just as I was about to say something to Briggen, 
 Perry Stokes came quickly in the door. He glanced 
 once at Briggen, then he turned to me and said: 
 
 "Dick sent me up to tell you that the Red Runners 
 are here. Him and Lew Hunter saw three fellas in the 
 woods behind the cliffs." 
 
 "All right, Perry," I said, "tell Lew I'm coming right 
 down." 
 
 Perry hurried out. Briggen came over and grabbed 
 my sleeve. 
 
 *They've come after us, Hawkins," he said. "They 
 won't bother you guys. I better be going." 
 
 For one moment I looked out the window. Then I 
 stood up and held Briggen's arm. 
 
 "Wait," I said. 
 
 For I had let my thoughts run back to a day last 
 summer at our camp on the island. It was a day when 
 Ham Gardner had done us a good turn gave us a tip 
 that Harkinson and his pals were going up the river 
 to trap two of our boys who had gone to town for grocer- 
 ies. It was Ham who had saved those two boys from 
 Harkinson's whip. 
 
 "Go on back, Briggen," I said. "Go back and tell 
 Ham that we never forget when a fella does us a good 
 turn or a bad one. He will know what I mean." 
 
 Briggen left without another word. I hurried 
 into my jacket and cap and ran for the hollow. The 
 boys had all quit playing football. They stood in a little 
 bunch over by the trees. Dick came to meet me as 
 I came up. 
 
 "We might catch a couple of redcoats, Hawkins," 
 205
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 he said. "They've been spying on us from trees behind 
 the cliffs over there." 
 
 The football was hidden safely in a spot that Bill 
 picked out, and we trotted away up the path. We 
 reached the top of the bluff and stopped for breath. 
 Dick pointed to the river. A long, thin motor boat 
 was being paddled across. In it sat three Red Runners, 
 each wearing the red sweater which gave their gang its 
 name. 
 
 "Back!" ordered Dick. "Every one come back." 
 
 Back we started. When we reached the clubhouse 
 path, I said: 
 
 "Dick, get the boys up in the clubhouse as soon as 
 you can and stay there. Jerry Moore will go with me 
 across the river. You fellows all go up and hold a sing- 
 ing practice. And keep on singing till we come back. 
 Will you do it?" 
 
 Sure, Dick would do it, and away they went, while 
 Jerry shoved off his long canoe, and we paddled across 
 to Pelham. There was not a soul in sight when we 
 landed. 
 
 "Come on, Jerry," I said, and I headed for Brig- 
 gen's shack. And there 
 
 Harkinson stood with his arms folded in the middle 
 of the room smiling at me. But it was no friendly smile, 
 I can tell you that. 
 
 "You came," he said. And then he laughed. I did 
 not answer. I stood there in the doorway, with Jerry 
 Moore right in back of me. In the dark shadows at the 
 back wall of the Pelham leader's shack were the three 
 Red Runners we had seen going across in the boat. 
 There was hardly any light in the shack, but you don't 
 need any light to see those shining eyes of Harkinson. 
 His low laugh got on my nerves. I tried to talk, but 
 
 206
 
 HARKINSON STOOP WITH His ARMS 
 
 ' \ AM tqLAV TO SEE YOU, 
 
 HE 5AiP IM A MocKmq 
 
 207
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 somehow, maybe I was scared, I don't know but some- 
 how I couldn't take my eyes away from his. 
 
 "I am glad to see you, Mister Seckatary," he said, in 
 a mocking voice. "I thought maybe I could get you 
 over here by sending some of my boys across. I knew 
 you would follow them. I didn't make much of a mis- 
 take about that. Sit down." 
 
 He just said that in a commanding tone, and it made 
 me mad. I tried to say No, but I just couldn't. 
 Jerry already had taken one of the low stools. I found 
 myself doing the same thing. 
 
 "Now," said Harkinson, "talk." 
 
 "You won't get away from here," I said. "The 
 Sheriff of Watertown wants you and all your redcoats. 
 And I have my boys ready to get you just as soon as you 
 leave this shack." 
 
 Harkinson smiled. "You don't always tell the truth," 
 he said, "because I know different. Your boys all went 
 up into the clubhouse. We saw them through the blind 
 you see, there is a nice peephole there. And before you 
 could get them down here, why, I'd be on my way so 
 far you slow pokes could never catch up with me. Any- 
 thing else you want to say before you get your punch 
 in the eye." Before I could answer Jerry Moore jumped 
 up. 
 
 "I got one thing to say, Harkinson," he said, "and 
 that is that you are not big enough to punch me or any 
 of us boys in the eye. What do you think about 
 that?" 
 
 Harkinson turned suddenly upon Jerry. 
 
 "Oho," he laughed, "listen to Clumsyfoot, here. 
 How he can blow. Well, here." 
 
 Without giving Jerry a chance the big bully punched 
 him square in the eye. Jerry tumbled off his stool 
 
 208
 
 THE PELHAMS IN TROUBLE 
 
 before he could raise his arms to help himself. I quickly 
 turned my eyes away and helped Jerry to his feet. 
 
 "You're a coward," I cried. "Why don't you fight 
 fair? Maybe you don't know what that is." 
 
 "All right, boys," said Harkinson to the three Red 
 Runners who stood against the wall, "keep those two 
 here till dark. Long Tom will come with the boat and 
 take them up to our headquarters. See how they like our 
 place. What's that?" 
 
 Across the river had come the strains of "The Boat- 
 man's Song" our boys were starting their singing prac- 
 tice. And how fine it sounded all those boy voices in 
 harmony, with the swelling tones of the organ ah, boy ! 
 Harkinson shoved us aside and walked out the door 
 and stood there looking at our clubhouse from where the 
 singing came. He had a different look on his face while 
 he listened to the singing. 
 
 It gave Jerry the chance. He leaped through the 
 door and landed on the shoulders of the big bully, and 
 I saw them go down in the dust together. Quick as a 
 wink I darted through the door and pulled it shut, 
 just as the three Red Runners sprang for me. A chain 
 latch hung on the outside, and I linked it on the staple 
 and slipped the bolt in quick. The three fellows inside 
 began pounding on the door, but I turned and ran to 
 help Jerry. 
 
 I saw them halfway down the bank, rolling over and 
 over toward the water. 
 
 "Jerry," I yelled, "let him go, do you want to get 
 drowned?" 
 
 Then I saw Harkinson leap up, free, and, with a last 
 kick at Jerry, he turned for the upper bank, and ran 
 like a deer. I hurried to help Jerry, and got him on his 
 feet. 
 
 14 209
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 'Good Lord, Hawkins," be whispered, "that fella's 
 a bear he nearly squeezed me to death where'd he 
 go?" 
 
 "There," I said, pointing, but Harkinson had dis- 
 appeared in the woods away from the water. 
 
 "What's happened, Hawkins?" called some one, 
 and we turned and saw Briggen and Hamj Gardner and 
 Dave Burns running down the Pelham bank. 
 
 "Plenty," I answered; "it's a good thing you fellas 
 weren't around. They were in your shack, Briggen. 
 Harkinson and three Red Runners." 
 
 Briggen frowned, and I saw Ham Gardner turn pale. 
 "Is he gone?" asked Briggen in a whisper. 
 
 "Yes," I said; but three of his redcoats are in there 
 prisoners. I latched your door " 
 
 Clear came the call from the woods on the upper 
 bank the sound of the brass horn Harkinson calling 
 for his Red Runners. 
 
 "Ha-ha!" I laughed. "He wants his three pals to come, 
 but I guess they won't answer the call of the old horn 
 this time, Jerry, what?" 
 
 But then something happened that I never will for- 
 get. No, sir! I never saw any boys do it before, and 
 never will see it again. Only Red Runners would be 
 game enough to try such a thing. There came the crash 
 of breaking glass, and a chair was shoved through the 
 window of Briggen's shack. Before we knew what was 
 happening, the whole window fell out in pieces, and we 
 saw three silent, red-coated figures leap through that 
 opening like cats. We were too surprised to move, and, 
 by the time Briggen shouted "Stop 'em, fellas!" they 
 had sped past us like the wind and headed for the woods. 
 The sound of the horn rang out again, and it seemed 
 
 210
 
 THE PELHAMS IN TROUBLE 
 
 to make them hurry. Some of the Pelhams started after 
 them, but they saw it was too late, and they gave it up. 
 
 "Good-night!" I said, "they sure do get up and go 
 when they hear that horn, Jerry. Who would have 
 thought" 
 
 "There goes Ham!" yelled Briggen. "Hold him, 
 fellas! Hold him." 
 
 But Ham was gone. In to the woods he ran, and was 
 gone before any of the Pelham boys could get to him. 
 All of them, led by Briggen, shot away in to the woods 
 after him. 
 
 "Poor kid," I said, "the old hypnotizer's got him 
 scared silly, Jerry. He gets so excited when he hears 
 that horn he thinks he has to run to it. I hope Harkin- 
 son won't be waiting." 
 
 "They're big enough to take care of themselves," 
 grumbled Jerry. 
 
 I turned and looked at him and I had to smile. He 
 was looking at me out of only one eye; the other one, 
 which Harkinson had punched was blue and swollen, 
 and half closed. 
 
 "Jerry," I said, "do you think we should follow the 
 Pelhams and see if they catch Ham?" 
 
 "Ham, nothin'," growled Jerry. "It's raw beef we 
 want, Hawkins, to put on my eye. Let's go up to the 
 butcher shop and get a piece right away." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 211
 
 XXI 
 
 The Canary 
 
 I'VE got an idea," said Bill Darby. 
 "Hooray!" shouted Jerry Moore. "It's the first 
 one you ever had, Bill." 
 
 We had been talking about getting off from school 
 for a day to go and gather beech nuts. 
 
 "Let's hear what Bill has to say," said our Captain, 
 hitting the table with his wooden hammer. "And you, 
 Jerry, keep your mouth shut till somebody asks you 
 something." 
 
 If it had been anybody else but our Captain saying 
 that Jerry would have been up on his feet ready to fight. 
 But he knows we all have to do what the Captain says, 
 and so he stayed quiet. 
 
 "Here it is," said Bill, "and it's a pippin'. You 
 all know our teacher's got a birthday this week. He 
 ought to let us have a holiday on account of that, but 
 will he? Not much. He ain't gonna advertise it that 
 way. He won't say a word about it being his birthday." 
 
 "Of course not," said Johnny McLarren, "he doesn't 
 care who knows what day his birthday is." 
 
 "No," said Bill, "he won't say a word about it to 
 anybody." 
 
 "Well," I said, "seems to me, Bill, that if he doesn't 
 say anything about it we are likely to go to school on 
 that day the same as other days." 
 
 "Yeah," said Bill, "but that ain't my idea. You 
 fellas ain't give me time to tell you what I had on my 
 mind." 
 
 212
 
 THE CANARY 
 
 "Well, go ahead, and say it out loud," broke in 
 Jerry Moore; "you're talkin' a whole lot without say in' 
 much." 
 
 "Just this," said Bill. "If he won't tell us it's his 
 birthday, we'll tell him. We will all chip in a dime or 
 two and buy him a present. Then, when the day comes, 
 hand him the present, and if he's a fine fella, he'll say: 
 'Boys, take a holiday on me.' ' 
 
 "Sounds all right," said Jerry, "if it will work." 
 
 Sure it would work. All the boys thought so as soon 
 as they heard Bill suggest it. Our Captain told us it 
 would work, and so he gave orders for each boy to chip 
 in and make a sum of money to buy a present with. 
 
 The next thing to do was to figure out what would 
 be the best thing to give him for a present. Every fellow 
 in the clubhouse thought of something different, but 
 it was Bill Darby who had the right thing in mind. In 
 fact, I think Bill must have been thinking of this for a 
 long time. 
 
 "A bird," he said; "a nice yella canary bird in a 
 fancy cage. It'll cost a little more than something you 
 fellas thought of, but what's the diff? He likes birds." 
 
 "Aw, forget it," said Jerry Moore. "Why, he's 
 got four canary birds now in his house." 
 
 "Sure," said Bill, "that's a sign he likes 'em better'n 
 anything else." 
 
 "Bill's about right," said our Captain; "a canary 
 would just about do." 
 
 And so it was that we started out to buy a canary 
 bird. We all had to chip in fifteen cents more, but what's 
 fifteen cents when you buy a fellow a birthday present? 
 Nothing. So out we went to old Hiram's place and 
 looked over the birds he had. He raises rabbits and 
 pigeons and squirrels and dogs and everything. He had 
 
 213
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 some fine birds there for a fancy price, but we couldn't 
 pay so high. So I told old Hiram what we wanted to 
 do with the bird and he kind o' likes us boys, and he 
 chuckled and patted me on the back, and said: "If 
 that's it, I give you something nice, bird and cage; how's 
 that?" 
 
 "Fine," I said; "let's see it." 
 
 He took us over to a corner where there hung a little 
 wire bird cage with a bird in it. It was only a part yel- 
 low bird : had some black on its beak, and the tips of the 
 wings are black. But Hiram said it would sing some 
 day, anyhow. So we took it and gave Hiram all the 
 money we had collected for it. He didn't even count it; 
 shoved it in his pocket without looking at it. That shows 
 that he was treating us good, anyhow. 
 
 Now, it was two days yet until the teacher's birth- 
 day. So we took the bird and cage back to the club- 
 house and decided it was best to leave it there. Perry 
 Stokes was appointed keeper of the bird until the day 
 he would present it to the teacher. He was to feed it 
 and see that it didn't get hurt. We ought to have known 
 better than to let Perry have that job. But it's too late 
 to talk about that now. 
 
 All this week we had been very peaceful; Pelham had 
 not started anything, and had stayed over on the other 
 side of the river. As for the Red Runners, it must have 
 been that Shadow Loomis and Robby Hood were keep- 
 ing them busy up in Watertown, for we didn't have a 
 visit from Shadow or Robby, and for many days we had 
 not seen any of Harkinson's band of redcoats had not 
 even heard the sound of the hypnotizer's horn around 
 our river bank. 
 
 "Too good to last long," said Jerry Moore to me; 
 "something's coming off pretty soon, remember those 
 
 214
 
 THE CANARY 
 
 words, Hawkins. Long Tom and his pals are hatching 
 something." 
 
 I felt that way myself, but I didn't think it would do 
 any good to tell the fellows. So I said to Dick Ferris: 
 
 "May be it would be better not to keep the bird 
 in the clubhouse. Suppose the Red Runners take a 
 notion to break hi some night " 
 
 But Dick shook his head and the canary stayed in the 
 clubhouse, on top of the cupboard, and was not bothered 
 at all. Perry Stokes got to love that bird, I think. He is 
 a kind-hearted kid. Takes a fancy to animals and birds. 
 We had to yell at him a couple of times to stop pouring 
 birdseed into the cage. Why, if that yellow bird ate all 
 the food Perry Stokes shoved into that cage, it would 
 have been as big as an eagle by this tune. But Perry 
 said it was better than not putting enough in, and we 
 couldn't say he was wrong about that. 
 
 Now, the day before the birthday, I came down to 
 the clubhouse right after school. I thought I'd be the 
 first one there, but I saw the door open, and so I walked 
 up easy and peeped in. Perry Stokes was there ahead of 
 me. He was feeding the bird pouring a cupful of bird- 
 seed into the cage. I stood and watched him. He put 
 down the cup and, stooping down with his hands on his 
 knees, began to talk to the bird. 
 
 "Poor liT fella," he said; "poor liT dickybird, what'd 
 you ever do to get put in jail like that for, huh?" 
 
 "Hello, Perry," I said. "Always on the job, aren't 
 you, kid?" 
 
 "Oh, Hawkins," he said, turning quickly, "you scared 
 me, sir. Thought I was all alone here just me and the 
 bird, sir." 
 
 "How many times must I tell you to cut out that 
 'sir' when you talk to me, Perry?" 
 
 215
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 He grinned at me. 
 
 "Oh, I forget, Hawkins," he said; "but it will stop, 
 sir, I promise you that." 
 
 "You've been very kind to that bird, Perry." 
 
 "Yes, sir; I think he likes me. I've grown to like 
 him, too. I'm sorry he won't be here after to-night, 
 sir. The birthday is to-morrow. He will go up to the 
 teacher's house then, and hang in his little cage for the 
 rest of his life. And it's a gloomy place, sir, that room 
 o' Brother Jim's 'tain't no place for a first-class bird to 
 live his whole life, Hawkins." 
 
 "Ah, well," I said, "it has to be, Perry, I guess." 
 
 ' That night we took the bird up to the schoolhouse 
 
 and climbed through a window. We put the cage back 
 
 in the corner behind the last bench in the schoolroom, 
 
 and Bill Darby covered it with a cloth he had brought. 
 
 "You see," he explained, "if you cover the cage with 
 a cloth nothing will bother the bird or scare it. So, when 
 we all come to school in the morning, nobody will notice 
 anything covered up back here in the corner. Perry, 
 have you fed it for the night?" 
 
 "I'll say he has," said I, laughing. "I saw him dump 
 a load of bird seed in." 
 
 "All right, then," said Dick Ferris, "come on, fellas, 
 skin out o' here before somebody comes and gives us 
 the dickens for breaking in at night." 
 
 As we were going home we heard the far-off sound of 
 Harkinson's horn. "Ah," I said, "it's lucky we did not 
 leave the bird in the clubhouse another night. I bet 
 you ten dollars the Red Runners break into our club- 
 house to-night, Jerry." 
 
 "Go on," growled Jerry, "you ain't got ten dollars." 
 
 Next morning, bright and early, I hurried to the 
 216
 
 THE CANARY 
 
 schoolhouse. We had planned to get there ahead of 
 our teacher, but just as I started up the steps Bill 
 Darby came slipping out. 
 
 "Brother Jim's here already," he whispered. "Gee 
 whiz, Hawkins, I thought we would have plenty of time 
 to get things fixed before he came." 
 
 "Gosh, so did I," I said. "Do you think he knows?" 
 
 "No," answered Bill; "none of us let on. We all 
 went right to our seats. I glanced at the corner and saw 
 the cage covered with the cloth just as we left it last 
 night." 
 
 "Fine," I said. "Do you know your speech by heart, 
 Bill?" 
 
 "Every word," answered Bill. "Want to hear it?" 
 
 "No, save it," I said. "I'll hear you when you hand 
 him the present. Now, listen, Bill, you got to act quick, 
 see? Just as soon as you and I get in you rush back and 
 get the cage while I say good mornin' and talk to Brother 
 Jim. Then you come back and say your speech and hand 
 it to him. Keep it covered, see, till you say 'we give you 
 this token.' Don't forget, now." 
 
 "Oh, I got it all down pat," said Bill. "You just leave 
 it to me." 
 
 Bill and I walked into the schoolroom. All the other 
 boys were in their seats, and they looked up with smiling 
 faces as we entered. 
 
 "Good morning, teacher," I said, as Bill dodged 
 behind me and shot for the cage. 
 
 "Late again, Hawkins," said Brother Jim, "as usual. 
 What makes you sleep so long, anyway?" 
 
 But he was smiling, and I kind o' thought he was re- 
 membering it was his birthday and didn't want to look 
 cross on this particular day. Before I could answer 
 him, Bill Darby had come back with the cage still 
 
 217
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 covered with the cloth. I stepped aside. Bill, holding 
 the cage behind his back, walked up in front of the 
 teacher's desk and began his speech. All the boys 
 stood up in their places. Brother Jim sat staring at 
 him while he talked, as though it were a big surprise. 
 I guess he didn't know what was coming off. 
 
 " And this," Bill was saying, "this here, Brother 
 Jim, is just a little token from us boys for your birth- 
 day-- 
 He jerked the cloth from the cage and held it up. 
 The teacher gazed at it, and I saw a smile curve around 
 his lips I heard some fella giggle behind me I knew 
 something was wrong 
 
 "Golly Moses," I said to myself, "the cage is empty!" 
 Oh, boy! There was Bill presenting the teacher with 
 an empty bird cage for a token. Can you beat it? I 
 stepped up quick. 
 
 "Excuse me," I said, "maybe " 
 But Brother Jim cut me short. 
 "My dear boys," he was saying, "how can I thank 
 you? It's just like you and I want to thank you for 
 such a beautiful cage. I was thinking about getting 
 another bird, and here is the cage all ready for it." 
 
 How we all got back to our seats I don't know. My 
 head was dizzy. The whole thing was bungled. Sure 
 enough, Brother Jim knew that it wasn't an empty 
 cage we intended to give him. He could tell by the bird 
 seed and the dirt on the bottom of the cage. But he 
 didn't let on. Not him. That's just the kind of a fel- 
 low he was. No; he smiled and bowed back at Bill, and 
 said "Thanks" like as if we had given him a fine thing. 
 "Boys," he said, "it wouldn't be in keeping with the 
 spirit of this kindly show of your regard for me if we 
 did not in some way acknowledge the same. And I 
 
 218
 
 219
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 am sure the Board of Trustees would not mind if we de- 
 clared this one day a holiday suppose you put your 
 books away and run along and have a little fun." 
 
 It worked. Sure it worked. But none of us felt 
 right about it. We thanked him with a cheery shout. 
 We shook his hand as we filed out the door. And then 
 we gathered at the clubhouse and sat around the table 
 and talked it over. 
 
 "How on earth," said our Captain, "did it happen? 
 How did that bird escape? Why, didn't you notice it, 
 Bill, before you went up and shoved that empty bird 
 cage over to him?" 
 
 "How was I to know?" cried Bill, and he was ready 
 to cry. Oh, boy! Bill felt awful about it. But Jerry 
 sized it up. He pounded his fist on the table and stood 
 up. 
 
 "Listen," he said, "I bet you ten dollars the Red Run- 
 ners followed us last night and saw us put that bird in 
 the schoolhouse." 
 
 "Go on," I said, "you ain't got ten dollars." 
 
 After all, what did it matter? Brother Jim acted like 
 he appreciated the cage. And it got us the holiday. And 
 outside I heard the boys yelling and scrambling over a 
 game of snatch-grab football. I sat down at my desk 
 hi my little office and began to write about it. Just as 
 I started there came the sound of the door opening. 
 Perry Stokes came in. 
 
 "Ah, Perry," I said, "don't you like to play snatch- 
 grab football? Go on, get out and let me write in peace." 
 
 "I want to say something, Hawkins," he said in a low 
 voice; he had a troubled look on his face. It was a look 
 that I liked to see there, though. It always meant that 
 Perry would do the best he could. 
 
 220
 
 THE CANARY 
 
 "Shoot!" I said. 
 
 "It's about the bird, sir." 
 
 "Have you found it, Perry?" 
 
 "No, sir; I let it get away. It was me down in the 
 schoolhouse first this morning, before anybody got there. 
 I had to see that little yella friend once more, sir. Him 
 and me got to be chums, as you would say. I hated to 
 think o' him going up into Brother Jim's darkened room, 
 sir, where the other birds sing. Seems like birds ought 
 to be in the air, Hawkins, where God made 'em to be. 
 But, honest I did not mean to let him get away. He 
 looked so mournful. I says to him : 'Only a few minutes 
 till you go to jail for life,' and I opened the door and held 
 him on my thumb like I always did down here in the 
 clubhouse " 
 
 "What!" I interrupted. "You mean to say you had 
 that canary bird out loose in this clubhouse?" 
 
 "Beggin' your pardon, I did, sir, once or twice. He 
 seemed so friendly; he never tried to fly away. He would 
 always come back to the cage. But, somehow, some- 
 thing went wrong with him in the schoolroom this morn- 
 ing, sir. As soon as he was out he looked up at the win- 
 dow; it was open at the top, as the teacher orders, and 
 he didn't say good-bye " 
 
 "Just flew out of the window, eh, Perry?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, and was gone. I was afraid of Jerry and 
 Bill, Hawkins. I couldn't tell 'em I did it. You know, 
 they don't like me very well. I hope you won't mention 
 it to a soul, Hawkins." 
 
 I slammed my book shut and hammered the stopper 
 on my ink bottle. 
 
 "Come on," I said, "let's go and join that game of 
 snatch-grab and forget about the canary." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 221
 
 XXII 
 
 The Hidden Houseboat 
 
 THE game of snatch-grab did not last long. A 
 steamboat whistle broke it up and all the fellows 
 ran for the river to watch the Hudson Lee go past. 
 We all knew it was the Hudon Lee. It has the lowest- 
 tone whistle and the loudest of all the steamers that ever 
 passed our town. And the Hudson Lee always brought 
 back happy memories to us boys, memories of good times 
 with the boy after whom this handsome steamer was 
 named, and his pretty little sister Rosalind. Their 
 father, Captain Lee, was on the bridge as she sailed by, 
 and he called to us and waved his hand. We gave him 
 a cheer, and then sat down to watch until the big boat 
 turned the upper bend toward Watertown. 
 
 We sat on the bank there, after the boat was out of 
 sight, and talked over old times. 
 
 "If we are going after nuts," spoke up Jerry Moore, 
 "we better get a move on. What's the use sittin' here 
 chewin' the rag?" 
 
 "I know where you can get some fine beech nuts," 
 said Roy Dobel, "right past my father's place. There's 
 a bunch of beeches there." 
 
 So we all started, keeping well under cover of the 
 trees so that, while we could see anything passing on 
 the river, we could not easily be seen ourselves. For 
 we did not care to run into Pelhams or Red Runners to- 
 day. It was a holiday, and we wanted to have a little 
 fun. I knew that Shadow Loomis and Robby Hood 
 would be at their schools in Watertown, and would not 
 
 222
 
 THE HIDDEN HOUSEBOAT 
 
 be able to get down to our clubhouse much before four 
 o'clock, so we had plenty of time to get a sackful of 
 nuts and be back at the clubhouse in time for our reg- 
 ular meeting. 
 
 Dobel's farm is not very far from our place on the 
 river bank. A short walk around the base of the cliffs, 
 and then about a half mile, and there is Dobel's. And 
 it wasn't five minutes more until we could see the beeches. 
 We arrived at our nut-picking place before we knew it. 
 We got to work at once, and soon had a nice pile of 
 beech nuts. They are funny-looking little nuts, but 
 sweet oh, boy, you can't give me a nut half as good 
 as a beech nut. When you taste those little kernels, 
 you know the truth in the old saying that good things 
 come in small packages. Same way with Little Frankie 
 Kane. He was the smallest kid that ever belonged to 
 our bunch, but he was always the nicest, friendliest 
 little kid we ever knew. We wish he was still a member 
 of our club. But best of friends must part. 
 
 When we were ready to go back, we found that 
 Perry Stokes was gone. "Where did he go?" asked 
 our captain; "by golly, Hawkins, I feel like firing that 
 kid, he always ducks out when he feels like it without 
 telling us where he is going." 
 
 "Hush up," I said in a low voice, "don't let him hear 
 you say that; here he comes on a run." 
 
 Perry came running up all out of breath. 
 
 "Dick," he said, "the Red Runners are coming just 
 turned the bend above in a long boat." 
 
 "We better take a look," said Dick; "Hawkins, see 
 if you can get our fellows in line and make them stay in 
 line. Maybe we can get by better if we have some order." 
 
 I quickly got the fellows in line, two by two, and then 
 Dick and I led the way through the trees to a point 
 
 223
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 overlooking the river. The long boat of the Red Run- 
 ners was coming fast, and well it might, for it was being 
 rowed by twenty oars, ten fellows rowing, one sitting 
 hi front giving orders to the rowers, and another sitting 
 in the stern at the rudder. What a sight that was! I 
 never saw a boat as long as that on our river. Before we 
 realized it they were speeding past us, their boat cutting 
 the water like a knife and leaving a long trail behind. 
 The fellow in the front seat, who was facing the rowers, 
 held his hand alongside his mouth and kept saying in a 
 slow, sing-song voice: "One, two, one, two," and every 
 time he said "two," those oars struck the water with 
 one single sound it was like a big machine pushing 
 that boat; no wonder they went so fast. Before we 
 got through wondering about it, they turned out of 
 sight around another crook in the old twisting river. 
 
 "Good-night," I said, "think of that, Dick. No 
 wonder the Red Runners can do so many things and 
 get away with it." 
 
 "Did you notice the numbers on their sleeves ?"asked 
 Jerry Moore. 
 
 "They're all numbered," broke hi Perry Stokes. 
 "Each one has the number of his importance. Didn't 
 you see Lasky with a seven on his sleeve? He's seventh 
 in line." 
 
 "I didn't see No. 1 or 2," said Jerry. "That fellow 
 doing the counting had No. 3 on his arm." 
 
 "Get back again," I said, "here comes the rest of 
 the parade." 
 
 For I had seen another boat coming from above. 
 It was the long, thin launch, and in it sat two Red Run- 
 ners. We backed again into the cover of the trees. 
 It took this second boat longer to make the route, for 
 they were paddling canoe fashion. But when they passed 
 
 224
 
 THE HIDDEN HOUSEBOAT 
 
 us, I recognized those two figures. The one in front 
 was Long Tom, and behind him was the old hypnotizer, 
 Harkinson. They wore the same kind of sweater and 
 cap as the other Red Runners. I wondered then why 
 it was that they did not wear their broad-brim hats and 
 long coats. But I afterward learned that they wore the 
 sweater and cap in the day, and the other costume in the 
 night-time. 
 
 "Yeah," whispered Jerry Moore, "No. 1 and No. 2. 
 Hot dog, some class." 
 
 "Hawkins," said Dick, "they're bound for the island." 
 
 "I know it," I said. 
 
 "Will we take a look and see what they're up to?" 
 asked Dick. 
 
 "Sure," said Jerry Moore, "come on back and get 
 our canoes. We might get a chance to trap the whole 
 bunch of 'em in the log house. Then we will come up 
 and get the Sheriff and it's good night Red Runners." 
 
 "Don't count your chickens," I said; "it'll be a little 
 risky going up there when we know they have fourteen 
 Red Runners to fight if we are seen." 
 
 "Anybody afraid doesn't have to go," said Dick. 
 
 "Last one home's a nigger," shouted Jerry, and that 
 settled it, for he started running and all us boys ran after 
 him. We were out of breath when we reached our 
 clubhouse and made hurriedly for our canoes and got 
 them over into the river. Soon we were on our way. 
 
 Seven Willows Island is full of beautiful trees; 
 trees, some of them, that don't lose their leaves till real 
 winter is upon them. And it was a beautiful sight 
 with its copper-colored forest, its thick tangle of under- 
 growth that stretched from the edge of our old camping 
 ground clear across the middle of the island. Plenty of 
 chance for the whole Red Runner army to be hiding, 
 
 13 225
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 waiting for us, thought I. Yet I reasoned that they 
 could not know that we had followed them. We could 
 see nothing of their boats. We did not even know 
 whether or not they had landed there. But we ran our 
 canoes into the mud at our old summer camping place, 
 and then hurried into the thicket. Here we halted, 
 and waited for our captain to give us orders. 
 
 "We will stay close together," said Dick; 'let no 
 one stray away from the crowd, now. If you do, you'll 
 know what to expect. We can't come to help you if you 
 fall into their hands, because they're too many for 
 us." 
 
 Suddenly there came a sound to our ears. The Red 
 Runners were on the island. The sound of Harkinson's 
 old horn gave us that information. It came again; 
 two calls on the horn, and I had heard it often enough to 
 know that two blasts was a call for the scattered red- 
 coats to come in. 
 
 "Steady," I said, "boys, keep your eyes open and 
 walk slow. The Red Runners are scattered and there 
 may be some right around us." 
 
 "Then let's strike out and catch as many as we can," 
 suggested Jerry Moore. 
 
 "Nothing doing," broke in Dick sharply; "come 
 ahead, I lead the way; you fellows follow; Hawkins, you 
 bring up the rear and keep your eyes peeled for any- 
 body in back. We will just spy around a bit." 
 
 Dick struck out to the left, away from the point where 
 the sound of the horn had come. It was tough going; 
 through the wildest kind of dried-up vines and bushes, 
 some full of thorns, that made our fellows squeal at 
 times as they rubbed a scratched hand or jerked a loose 
 thorn out of their shins. We had walked for about ten 
 minutes or so, when Dick gave a low cry, and we all 
 
 226
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 came to a halt with a push backward. I hurried around 
 to the front of our group. 
 
 "Well, I be dern!" exclaimed Dick. 
 
 We had come out again to the edge of the island; 
 a cozy-looking backwater pool was before us, and a tangle 
 of wild woods, dead now in the cold season, but yet 
 thick and laced together, covered it like a roof. And 
 there, in that backwater pool, that must have been a 
 regular paradise bower hi summer-time, was the old 
 houseboat in which the Skinny Guy and his father had 
 lived before they went to Cuba. 
 
 "Hold on," I said, "watch your step, Dick. There 
 night be Red Runners hiding in there, waiting for us." 
 
 "I got you," replied Dick; "I thought of it right 
 away, Hawkins. It's a dandy place for them to lay 
 a trap." 
 
 I took a look around at the faces of our boys. They 
 stood there staring at the old houseboat as though it 
 was an enchanted thing. For it was the old home of their 
 old friend Link, the Skinny Guy, and it brought back 
 many memories of happy days when that skinny kid 
 was here, a member of our club, and one of the best 
 friends we ever had. 
 
 "Come on, Hawkins," said Dick, "you and I sneak 
 up and take a look, see. You other fellows stay close 
 together right here, till we call you." 
 
 Together Dick and I pushed through the tangled 
 wildwood that hung between us and the houseboat. From 
 the looks of things, no one had ever set foot in the house- 
 boat since Link and his daddy left it. The old plank 
 which led from the shore to the water had slipped off 
 the boat end, but there it was, one end half rotted away 
 in the water. We heaved it up together and set it upon 
 the front porch of the houseboat, and then skipped across. 
 
 228
 
 THE HIDDEN HOUSEBOAT 
 
 We tried the door, but it was locked, and then I stepped 
 over and peeped into the window. 
 
 "Dick," I said softly, "come here." 
 
 Dick came over, and we rubbed the grime off the 
 window glass and peered in. 
 
 "What do you think of that?" I asked. 
 
 Everything inside was just as it had been left the 
 morning the houseboat had been deserted. The little 
 table in the center of the room was covered with the same 
 ragged table cloth that I had seen upon it many times 
 when Link had lived in the houseboat; upon the table 
 were still the little tin dishes, cups and saucers, one on 
 each side, just as they had served Link and his daddy 
 for their last breakfast in the houseboat; that was the 
 morning they left for Cuba. A tin plate still held a half 
 loaf of bread and a few crusts, green with mold. A china 
 sugar bowl and an empty milk bottle stood in the mid- 
 dle, while a pair of gloves lay on one corner. Every- 
 thing was covered thick with dust. 
 
 I lifted the window. It was not locked; it came up 
 with a few squeaks. I leaped hi and Dick followed. Be- 
 fore we knew it, the other fellows had come up and were 
 entering the open window behind us. 
 
 "Go back, Perry," said Dick, "one of you will have 
 to stay on the lookout for the Red Runners." 
 
 Perry went without any back talk. He is a good kid. 
 
 It was a queer feeling we fellows had as we stood 
 in that houseboat again. Funny none of us had ever 
 thought of it since the Skinny Guy went away. The 
 Skinny Guy himself never gave it a thought after he re- 
 turned from Cuba. And there was plenty of reason for 
 that. I guess he lived in houseboats so long he didn't 
 ever want to see one again. 
 
 We ail went up the little ladder in the corner, to the 
 229
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 room under the roof. The two cots with their disordered 
 coverlets told us that no one had been there since the 
 Skinny Guy and his pop bid farewell to houseboat life. 
 Link had gone away that morning, thinking he was being 
 parted from his daddy; and then his daddy had suddenly 
 decided to go with Uncle Lucio to the island country 
 to be near his boy; and had got up and had gone, leaving 
 things in the houseboat just as we found them. 
 
 We went back downstairs, and stood in little groups, 
 talking in low tones. It seemed like all the boys felt, then, 
 a little blue; for it did bring back thoughts of our Skinny 
 Guy, and Link was a good scout. The fellows thought a 
 lot of him in the good old days. And here was all that 
 belonged to him in the long ago; but our old Skinny Guy 
 was no longer in it. No, he was no longer one of us; for 
 luck had smiled upon Link, and had given him back a 
 mother he had never known, and with that great joy 
 plenty of money so that he never need live in such pov- 
 erty again. 
 
 I found myself staring around the place alone, dream- 
 ing of Link and the exciting days I had spent with him 
 in the Caves of Cazanova, and I shook myself and walked 
 over to the door. Jerry had opened it, and was standing 
 there alone, leaning up against the wall, looking out 
 through the tangle of vines that almost hid the house- 
 boat from the island. 
 
 "Well, Jerry," I said. 
 
 He turned and I saw that his eyes sparkled, as 
 though maybe he felt a little like he wanted to hold back 
 a tear or two. I laughed. 
 
 "Link's old home," I said; "doesn't it make you 
 feel- 
 
 "The Red Runners have gone, Hawkins," broke in 
 Perry Stokes as he came up to the door. "Their long 
 
 230
 
 THE HIDDEN HOUSEBOAT 
 
 boat and the launch have just passed the first turn in 
 the river." 
 
 "That so?" called Dick, coming away from the group 
 of boys in the middle of the room. "Good. Lock up, 
 Hawkins, and fix those vines as they were, so nobody 
 can find this houseboat while we are gone. Come on, 
 everybody out. We've got to get back home. Shadow 
 and Robby will be waiting for us to hold our meeting." 
 
 We hurried out, Jerry fastening the door, and he and 
 I together arranged the vines as they had been when we 
 came. And then we slowly made our way to where our 
 canoes lay, and quickly started homeward. 
 
 "Hawkins," said Dick, "I want you to write down in 
 your seckatary book about us boys finding back Link's 
 old houseboat. And, say, we ought to write a letter to 
 Link, and tell him all about it." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 231
 
 XXIII 
 
 Androfski the Silent 
 
 "And I want you boys to know that it is all yours 
 keep it, Hawkins, for old-times' sake, for I want you fel- 
 lows to remember me always as I was when you called me 
 
 "Your Friend, 
 
 "The Skinny Guy." 
 
 THAT'S the ending of the letter that we got back 
 from Link when we wrote him about finding his 
 pop's old houseboat in that backwater pool, hid- 
 den by the tangle of dead vines on Seven Willows Island. 
 Remember him as he was, huh? As if he wasn't still 
 our friend! Why, sure he was, and always would be. 
 To us Link would always be the Skinny Guy. Makes 
 no difference with us what happens to a fellow that once 
 belonged to our bunch, we always think of him as though 
 he still belonged to us. 
 
 And gosh ! weren't we all glad to hear from him again ! 
 I'll say. He sent a letter to me, but it was for all of the 
 boys, and I had to read it out loud at a meeting in the 
 clubhouse. I had just finished reading it the third time. 
 
 "If I ain't askin' you too much trouble," said Jerry 
 Moore, "would you please read it over again slow, 
 Hawkins?" 
 
 I looked at our Captain, Dick Ferris, before I made a 
 reply. 
 
 "The Seckatary will read it once more," said Dick, 
 hitting the table with his wooden hammer, "and I want 
 you fellas to listen closely, 'cause it's the last time. You'll 
 be having our Seckatary hoarse reading that letter 
 
 232
 
 ANDROFSKI THE SILENT 
 
 over and over again. Have a heart, for the love of 
 Mike. Go ahead, Seckatary." 
 I started once more. 
 
 "Dear Hawkins and all my old friends / got your 
 letter, telling about you fellows finding the houseboat that 
 belonged to me and pop. It made me feel strange when I 
 read it. But I got reasons for wanting to forget about that 
 old floating house that I used to call home. Yes, pop and 
 me hid it in that backwater pool the lily pond that's 
 what we called it. We put it there a long time before Mon- 
 tilla came. No, we didn't want to see it again when we 
 came back from Cuba. Pop never wanted my mother to 
 know. The houseboat days were fine ones for me you 
 boys never knew how much fun I had but I'm glad to be 
 past them now. I am glad you fellows found the old house- 
 boat before the Pelhams got next to it. And I want you 
 boys to know that it is all yours keep it, Hawkins, for 
 old-times' sake, for I want you fellows to remember me 
 always as I was when you called me 
 
 "Your Friend, 
 
 "The Skinny Guy." 
 
 "Well, if he ain't a Prince," exclaimed Bill Darby. 
 
 "Who, the Skinny Guy?" Jerry Moore said, with his 
 chin poked out. "Listen, Bill, there ain't a fella even 
 twice my size goin' to say a word about Link when I'm 
 around." 
 
 Bang! Dick's wooden hammer hit the table with a 
 whack. 
 
 "Say," he said, "you fellows forget we got rules in 
 this clubhouse. You know you ain't allowed to talk free 
 like that while a meeting's going on. Wait till some- 
 body asks you something. What is it, Johnny?" 
 
 Johnny McLarren stood up. 
 233
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "I just happened to think that maybe this old house- 
 boat might be a good headquarters for us boys. Time 
 might come when we are down around that way and need 
 a hiding place to run to. What's the matter with fixing 
 it up? Might even hold a couple of meetings down there 
 once in a while." 
 
 "Oh, yes, secret meetings," whispered Jerry Moore; 
 "just like regular big lodges do, and make fellas ride the 
 goat and all that, you know." 
 
 "You ain't gonna git me riding any goat," said Roy 
 Dobel. 
 
 "Shut up!" yelled our Captain. "Jerry, if I got to 
 tell you once more not to butt in lest you're asked some- 
 thing, out that door you go, hear me?" 
 
 "All right, all right," replied Jerry in a low voice, 
 "I just got to talk sometimes; don't mind me if you 
 don't like to hear the sound of my voice." 
 
 "I don't mean," continued Johnny, "that we would 
 want to make that our headquarters to meet in all the 
 time. It would be foolish when we have this fine club- 
 house. But there might come a time, you know " 
 
 "Good idea," said our Captain. "What you got 
 to say, Hawkins?" 
 
 "It's a fine houseboat," I answered, "and it will al- 
 ways remind us of the Skinny Guy and the days when we 
 were smaller kids than we are now. But I ain't saying 
 that it would be safe to hang around it much. We all 
 know the Red Runners go down to the Island " 
 
 "That's just why I think we ought to have it," said 
 Johnny McLarren, " 'cause, you see, Hawkins, it might 
 help us to get a chance to trap the whole bunch of red- 
 coats some time lock 'em up in the old houseboat and 
 then send somebody up for the Sheriff and his men 
 while we guard them on the outside." 
 
 234
 
 ANDROFSKI THE SILENT 
 
 I saw right away that Johnny's idea had caught 
 on with all the other boys. And while I figured it would 
 probably be getting us in trouble sooner or later, I 
 did not say another word for or against. No, sir. I know 
 my fellows. When they get set on a thing, let 'em alone; 
 that's what I say. Because I know it won't do any good 
 to try to talk 'em out of it. Help 'em out of it if they get 
 in trouble, yes; but don't try to talk around Jerry Moore 
 and Johnny McLarren and Dick Ferris. That's three 
 of a kind, and they usually finish what they set out to do. 
 
 So at the next two meetings nothing was talked about 
 but the new headquarters we were to fix up in the house- 
 boat on the island. The reason we took our time about 
 it was that we did not want anybody not a single soul 
 to know a thing about it. No, not even good old 
 Doc Waters nobody was to know that we had another 
 headquarters. For we figured out that if even one per- 
 son knew of it the Red Runners might get on to it, 
 and then 
 
 Shadow Loomis and Robby Hood had not shown 
 up at our meetings for a long time now. What was keep- 
 ing them in Watertown we did not know. We had not 
 heard a word. We started our meeting every day fifteen 
 minutes later than usual, thinking that maybe one or the 
 other would show up. But neither came. And now it 
 was time to go down to the Skinny Guy's houseboat hid- 
 den away in "the lily pond," and fix up our new head- 
 quarters. 
 
 "It's a shame Shadow and Robby can't go along," 
 said Dick Ferris to me as we followed the other boys out 
 of our clubhouse after the meeting. 
 
 "They might come yet," I said; "We held our meet- 
 ing pretty early after school to-day; they ain't had a 
 chance to get here yet, Dick." 
 
 235
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "Suppose you leave a note," said Dick, "and put it 
 on the door. Just write on it 'Gone to the island.' ' 
 
 I went back into my little office and wrote on a 
 small card: 
 
 "Gone to the island. Land your boat at old summer 
 camp place and shout 'Halloo' three times, and I will come 
 and show you the way. Hawkins." 
 
 This I tacked upon the door, under the knob. Then 
 Dick and I hurried after the boys who were just getting 
 into the canoes. 
 
 No; I'll not forget anything that happened on that 
 trip to the hidden houseboat hi "the lily pond." We 
 had landed at the old summer camp spot and pulled our 
 canoes up out of the water and hid them in the woods. 
 It had been rainy weather for a week, and the banks 
 were muddy yellow mud that sticks to your shoes like 
 the dickens. But how easy it was to find our way, 
 now that we knew. Yet the thorns and briars that at- 
 tacked our shins and bare hands as we pushed through 
 that tanglewood nearly drove us back. Nearly, I said, 
 for we pushed on as though we were Indians fighting our 
 way out of an enemy's country. 
 
 And there, when we reached the old houseboat, we 
 forgot all our scratches and hurts. We felt different, as 
 though we were still clinging to something 'that be- 
 longed to our old Skinny Guy. We set to work with a 
 will, cleaned out the dirt and dust with brooms we had 
 brought, oiled up the rusty hinges and locks, fitted a new 
 key in the front door from a bunch of keys Jerry had 
 brought, and put everything in order. All of the while 
 Dick Ferris went about warning the boys to go about it 
 quietly and not to attract the attention of any Pelhams 
 or Red Runners who might happen to be down on the
 
 237
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 island. For we knew that Harkinson had built a log- 
 house on this island in the summer, and it wasn't likely 
 that he would forget about that. 
 
 And yet, how things happen, even if you take the 
 most care in the world. We had finished everything, and 
 had locked the houseboat and started back for the river. 
 Just as we came out of the tanglewood at the point 
 where we had hidden our canoes Perry Stokes gave a 
 sharp cry and pointed. We all looked. A few feet ahead 
 of us stood three Red Runners. One of them I knew. He 
 wore a white "7" on his red sleeve; he was Seventh-in- 
 Line Lasky, whom Jerry had captured some weeks ago. 
 The other two were strangers to me. One wore a "3" on 
 his sleeve, and the other a "4." The one with the "3," 
 which meant that he was third hi line in the Red Run- 
 ners, was a dark-skinned fellow with dark, stringy hair 
 and a nose like the beak of a bird. He grinned at us 
 with a sneering look, and in the hollow of his left arm 
 lay a repeating rifle. He simply stood there in front of 
 his two companions and grinned at us. 
 
 "Well," said our Captain, "what do you want?" 
 
 Third-in-Line turned to Fourth-in-Line, and said 
 something to him in a hoarse whisper. Fourth-in-Line 
 nodded and then said to us: 
 
 "Androfski says you must follow us every one of 
 you." 
 
 Jerry Moore stepped up. I tried to catch his arm, 
 but he got by me. 
 
 "Listen," he said to the third-in-line Red Runner, 
 "if you're Androfski, why can't you give your own orders 
 without turning around and telling Number Four there 
 what to say." 
 
 "Wait," said Fourth-in-Line, "you don't know 
 Androfski can't talk he lost his voice when he was little 
 
 238
 
 ANDROFSKI THE SILENT 
 
 we call him Androfski the Silent but you better do 
 what he says, or you will be sorry." 
 
 "I'd like to know why," said Jerry. 
 
 Androfski the Silent turned quickly to Fourth-in- 
 Line. The grin went from his face, and I saw an angry 
 look there. He whispered hoarsely again to his com- 
 panion. Meanwhile, Lasky, seventh-in-line, stood be- 
 hind the two and said not a word. 
 
 "You must come," said Fourth-in-Line, "to the Red 
 Runners' courtroom in the stockade. Androfski the 
 Silent says you are his prisoners, and you must let him 
 take you before the Red Runners right away. Else 
 you will be sorry." 
 
 "For what?"chimed in a new voice. 
 
 With a glad cry Perry Stokes who had been trembling 
 ever since the Red Runners showed up, ran forward. 
 Androfski the Silent turned, and so did his two pals. 
 They faced Shadow Loomis. 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 Shadow Loomis walked up to Androfski and looked 
 straight into his eyes. 
 
 "I know, Androfski. The gun's not loaded. Put 
 it down and take off your coat. We will settle our old 
 quarrel right away. I've been waiting for a chance 
 to meet you away from that Red bunch of yours. Are 
 you ready for it?" 
 
 Surely Androfski was ready. He showed that by 
 the way he dropped his gun, threw his cap on the 
 ground, and backed away while he doubled up his 
 fists. Just as Shadow stepped forward Fourth-in-Line 
 darted to the gun, picked it up and ran away with it 
 into the woods. Seventh-in-Line Lasky, seeing this, 
 turned and followed after him. Androfski the Silent 
 was deserted, alone, facing his enemy, Shadow Loomis. 
 
 239
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 No matter what else I may write about Androfski 
 the Silent, this one thing I'll say for him right now. He 
 was game. Game as the gamest fighter I ever saw. 
 There we were, a dozen of us in back of Shadow Loomis, 
 but Androfski was all alone, deserted, and yet he stood 
 up with his bare fist and did the best he could against 
 a boy whom he had a grudge against and who had a 
 grudge against him. And he got the first blow, too, a 
 right-hand punch to the jaw that sent Shadow back 
 a step or two, but Shadow only smiled and gritted his 
 teeth. Then, as Shadow ^stepped up quickly to give 
 him one it's funny about this rule of the Red Runners 
 came the sound of Harkinson's horn. As far as An- 
 drofski the Silent was concerned, the fight was over. I 
 saw him turn his bird-like nose for an instant in the di- 
 rection of the sound of that horn; the next second he had 
 stooped and snatched his cap from the ground and was 
 gone to answer the call of the horn the call of the 
 leader of his gang. 
 
 We stood there on the sloping bank, our old summer 
 camping place, and watched him disappear silent as 
 was his name like a smudge of red among the dead 
 trees of the woods. Then Shadow laughed. 
 
 "He's gone," he said, "and I thought sure we could 
 settle it this time. What you fellows come down here 
 for, anyway?" 
 
 We stood there and told Shadow about the hidden 
 houseboat. He wanted to go back with us right away 
 and have a look at it. I said we better not try it to-day, 
 as this rumpus with the Red Runners had taken all 
 the gumption out of me. I'd feel safer back home. 
 But Dick and Jerry were about to go back through the 
 tanglewood with Shadow, when out of the dead timber 
 
 240
 
 ANDROFSKI THE SILENT 
 
 came a figure a red coat by golly, it was Seventh- 
 in-Line Lasky! 
 
 He came right up to me. 
 
 "Go," he said in a breathless voice, "go, Hawkins, 
 they're coming all of 'em. Harkinson he knows 
 you're here; Fourth-in-Line Oder told him, and they've 
 got sixteen you've no chance go, quick." 
 
 "But, Lasky" I said. 
 
 "You did me a good turn once you turned me 
 loose when your gang caught me, and, Hawkins, I ain't 
 forgot it; now, go before they come they're too many 
 against you." 
 
 Without another word Seventh-in-Line darted into 
 the woods again and was lost among the trees. 
 
 "That's the first Red Runner I ever knew to do 
 that " said Shadow Loomis. 
 
 "Come on," I broke in, "we can talk about it better 
 in our own clubhouse." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 16 
 
 241
 
 XXIV 
 
 Saving the Secret 
 
 TWO days later Shadow Loomis and Robby Hood 
 showed up together for our meeting in the club- 
 house. Shadow was quiet all during the meeting. 
 As soon as it was over he said to me: 
 
 "Hawkins, I want to go down to see the hidden 
 houseboat that used to belong to Link. Robby knows 
 about it. I told him. And he wants to go, too. We 
 are anxious to see the old place the Skinny Guy used 
 to live in." 
 
 "Ask our Captain," I said. 
 
 Dick had been standing right beside us. 
 
 "Of course they can go," he said. "I was going to 
 suggest a trip down there, anyway. Tell the boys to 
 get out the canoes." 
 
 In five minutes we were on the water, heading south 
 for the island. It was a clear afternoon, although the 
 cold weather was beginning to remind us that winter 
 was about to wrap us in a blanket of snow. However, 
 the paddling kept us pretty warm, and we reached our 
 old summer camping ground in a little while. We pulled 
 up our boats and hid them as we had done on our pre- 
 vious visits, and then struck out through the tangled 
 woods for the backwater pool "the lily pond," as Link 
 called it. It would have been wiser to cut our way 
 through as we went, so that we would not always have 
 to fight the thorns and stickers when we came to the 
 houseboat. But our Captain gave orders that nothing 
 was to be changed; if we made a path that would be easy 
 for us to get through it would be easy as well for the Red 
 
 242
 
 SAVING THE SECRET 
 
 Runners or the Pelhams. And we intended that nobody 
 should know about our secret headquarters in this quiet 
 spot. 
 
 "Oh, boy, what a beauty," said Shadow Loomis, as he 
 caught his first look at the old houseboat through the 
 lacing of the old vines. "Good-night, Hawkins, if the 
 Red Runners ever see that, you fellas won't own it any 
 more." 
 
 "I know it," I said; "that's the reason we must keep 
 it a secret." 
 
 Shadow shook his head. "I'm afraid we can't," he 
 said. "I'm afraid they kind o' think we got something 
 like this. They've seen some of us down here several 
 times. I kind o' think " 
 
 "Look here, Shadow," I said suddenly, "what's on 
 your mind? I bet I know why you came down here. 
 You think you'll get a chance to meet Androfski again. 
 You figured he would be down here, didn't you?" 
 
 Shadow laughed. 
 
 "Good boy," he said; "you sure got some think 
 cap, Hawkins, old top. Sure, you bet, I expected An- 
 drofski to be down here. And I'll bet he's here, too." 
 
 Jerry Moore was unlocking the door as we brought 
 up the rear of the line at the houseboat. While the others 
 crowded forward onto the gang-plank that led to the 
 houseboat porch I waited on the bank. As I looked 
 down at my muddy shoes my eye happened to see foot- 
 prints in the mud around the water's edge. I stooped 
 down and looked at the marks carefully. No boy in our 
 bunch had such big feet to make those large foot- 
 prints. 
 
 "Shadow," I called. 
 
 He turned and came back to me. 
 
 "What is it?" he asked. 
 
 243
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "Look," I said, pointing at the marks in the mud. 
 "I guess you are right; looks like our houseboat has been 
 discovered. Those footprints might have been made 
 by Androfski." 
 
 Shadow stooped and looked at the prints, and then 
 turned to me with a shake of his head. 
 
 "No," he said, "not Androfski. Most likely a Red 
 Runner, but not Androfski. I know every little mark 
 of that fella; this footprint's not been made by him." 
 
 "Come in, you fellas," called Dick, and we went into 
 the houseboat. The boys had arranged in the middle of 
 the floor the old table that was formerly used by Link 
 and his daddy, and had put chairs around it, odd chairs, 
 most of them broken, and only a few with backs, and 
 some made out of rough wood, cut from trees on the 
 river bank. We all gathered around the table, taking 
 the same places that we occupied at meetings in our 
 clubhouse. Dick Ferris pulled his little wooden hammer 
 from his pocket and hit the table with it. 
 
 "Order," he said; "fellas, the first meeting in our 
 secret headquarters will come to order." 
 
 Somehow it felt strange to us. We all sat there for 
 a minute as quiet as though we were in church. No tell- 
 ing how long we would have sat there that way if Dick 
 hadn't hit the table another whack with his hammer. 
 
 "Well, wake up," he said; "what's the idea of a meet- 
 ing if you fellas want to sit there looking at one another? 
 Come on, get up, somebody, say something." 
 
 As for me, I didn't care to say anything. I was think- 
 ing about the Skinny Guy what would he say if he 
 could see us now, his old pals, sitting around his old table 
 in his old home, calling to order the first secret meeting 
 of our little gang? 
 
 "This is the time to make new rules," said Jerry 
 244
 
 SAVING THE SECRET 
 
 Moore, standing up and leaning his hands on the table. 
 " 'Cause I think you have to lay them rules right away, 
 Dick, if this houseboat is to be kept a secret. If we 
 don't have rules one of us is goin' to go blundering 
 right into something that'll bring the whole Pelham 
 bunch right into this here secret headquarters, or what's 
 worse, the Red Runners " 
 
 "Yes, yes," said Dick, "that's right, Jerry. Now, 
 listen, fellas, and listen good. If we want to do this thing 
 right we must make these rules. First, no fella is allowed 
 to come down here by himself; no fella is allowed to 
 come down here with another fella unless he gets per- 
 mission from me or Hawkins. I hope you all understand 
 that." 
 
 Every boy nodded his head. "Sure," they said, "Some 
 said, "of course"; others said, "that's right." I didn't 
 say anything. 
 
 "And whatever you do," continued Dick, "never tell 
 anybody, not even your mother or your sister or your 
 cousin, or nobody, about this secret houseboat head- 
 quarters. Nobody will ever know then that we can 
 sneak away to this hiding place. Nobody will ever 
 know that this old houseboat is here." 
 
 "Somebody knows it already," I said. 
 
 "What!" 
 
 Dick jumped up. The other fellows turned and 
 looked at me. They all had surprise on their faces. 
 Only Shadow Loomis smiled and kept his seat. 
 
 "Yeah," I said, "somebody's been here this very day, 
 peeking in the windows there. If you'll go outside you'll 
 see his footprints in the mud on the bank." 
 
 All of the fellows but Shadow and I went outside to 
 look for the marks I had spoken of. Shadow and I 
 heard them talking in low tones, comparing their own 
 
 245
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 shoe bottoms with the marks in the mud. They hurried 
 back, led by Dick. 
 
 "By Golly, you're right, Hawkins," said Dick. 
 "Now, what's to do?" 
 
 "There's only one thing to do," said Shadow quietly, 
 "and that is to get the fella who found out our secret. 
 If he is a Red Runner turn him over to the Sheriff. 
 If he is only a Pelham give him a licking and tell him he'll 
 get another if he opens his mouth about this hidden 
 houseboat." 
 
 Dick shook his head and sat down. He rested his 
 elbows on the table and sunk his chin in his hands. 
 
 "Oh, Lord," he said, "it's always something. If 
 it ain't one thing it's another. What chance have we 
 got to catch that fella? Now, we might as well make up 
 our mind to give up this houseboat purty soon. Oh, gee, 
 I wish somebody else was Captain instead of me." 
 
 Lew Hunter stepped over, and with a laugh, slapped 
 our Captain on the back. 
 
 "Cheer up, old scout," he said, "don't give up the 
 ship. Come on, you fellas, this is the first meeting in 
 our Skinny Guy's old houseboat. Let's make it sound 
 cheerful stand up, all of you that's the way now, 
 come on, join in 
 
 "Weep no more for me, 
 We vnll sing one song of my old Kentucky Home " 
 
 The boys sang. There never was a time when 
 Lew Hunter started a song that those boys didn't join 
 in. Lew had them all trained. There was something of 
 a music master about Lew that the boys did not under- 
 stand, and did not try to understand. Whenever he 
 sang they sang, too; that was all there was to it. How 
 those harmonizing voices swelled through that old house- 
 
 246
 
 SAVING THE SECRET 
 
 boat! Gosh, we might have known that it would have 
 been heard 
 
 "Red Runners!" cried Roy Dobel, pointing at the 
 window. The singing broke off suddenly as we turned 
 our eyes to the window. Only for an instant did the 
 face linger at the window pane a face that somewhere 
 I had seen, but could not place. Only for an instant, 
 I say, and then it was jerked back. I saw a red sleeve 
 
 "He's all by himself," shouted Shadow Loomis "get 
 him, fellas. Come on, everybody after him. Don't 
 let him get out of sight, Hawkins." 
 
 For I was the first one out of the door. I saw the red 
 jacket cutting it as fast as he could. Through the thorn 
 and sticker patch, and then out under the trees; the 
 whole bunch in back of me shouting and yelling, and 
 the running redcoat ran faster than he would have run 
 if he had not been so badly scared. 
 
 As I sit here in my little office room, writing about 
 this, I can't help laughing at the foolish way we yelled 
 and ran. What if the Red Runners had all been hiding 
 somewhere? Suppose they had all been behind that 
 thicket of thorn? Lucky for us they were not. No, there 
 were no others only this o"ne. He ran for the big log 
 house at the other end of the island, the stockade that 
 Harkinson and the Pelhams had built last summer. He 
 reached it far ahead of any of us. And slammed the 
 door. I heard it being bolted on the inside as we came up. 
 
 "Well," I said, as Shadow came up out of breath, 
 "he's there. But he has locked us out." 
 
 "Not me," said Shadow Loomis. "No Red Runner 
 can lock me out. Give me a boost, Jerry." 
 
 Jerry and I gave him our hand and he lifted himself 
 up the side of the log house. With a swing he reached the 
 roof. 
 
 247
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "Watch out down there, now," he called. 
 
 I saw his purpose in a second. There was a wide 
 chimney, made of rocks and mud, built against one side 
 of the log house. Shadow stopped a moment to look 
 into it; the next second he was putting his foot over 
 the edge, getting into it. We saw him let himself 
 down easy into the chimney. I wondered if the Red 
 Runner inside knew what we were doing. I ran to the 
 door and began pounding ou it to get his attention 
 away from the fireplace. Then I heard a cry of sur- 
 prise from inside. I heard the bolt shot back and 
 felt the door give way. Jerry and I pushed hard and 
 rushed in. 
 
 Shadow and the Red Runner were scrambling 
 around the loghouse floor together. Oh, how that Red 
 Runner fought ! He was like a wildcat, and he was much 
 the best, because he was bigger and older than Shadow 
 Loomis. But Jerry and I hurried to his help, and soon 
 we were sitting on top of the redcoat. Perry Stokes 
 brought some rope, and we tied his arms fast and made 
 him sit up. On his sleeve there was the number "4." 
 One look at his face and I remembered him. He was 
 the one who had been with Androfski and Seventh-in- 
 Line Lasky the day they surprised us, the day Shadow 
 Loomis and Androfski had the fight. 
 
 "Your name is Oder," I said. "Fourth-in-Line Red 
 Runner. Is that right?" 
 
 "You said it," replied Fourth-in-Line in a very sulky 
 tone. 
 
 "When did you discover our houseboat in the back- 
 water?" asked Dick Ferris. 
 
 "Yesterday." 
 
 "Anybody else seen it besides you?" 
 
 "Find out for yourself." 
 
 248
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 Dick looked at Shadow and me. "Suppose he ain't 
 the only one," he said. "Suppose those footprints were 
 made by another Red Runner." 
 
 We made our prisoner march ahead of us back to the 
 houseboat. When we compared the footprints with his 
 big shoes we saw at once that it was he who had walked 
 in the mud there. 
 
 "It's him," said Shadow. "He's the one." 
 
 "Well, fellas," I said, "what'll we do with him?" 
 
 "Turn him over to the Sheriff," said Jerry Moore. 
 
 "Oh, listen," I said, "if this was Harkinson or Long 
 Tom, you know, why sure. I'd turn him over right 
 away. But we've only seen this Fourth-in-Line fella 
 twice " 
 
 "Only this," broke in Shadow Loomis, "you boys 
 want to keep your hidden houseboat a secret, don't you?" 
 
 "Of course we do." 
 
 "Well, then, there's only one way to keep it a secret 
 now. This fellow is in on the secret. He knows where 
 the houseboat is; we saw him looking in the window. 
 Of course be will tell the other Red Runners. And they 
 would be there as soon as they could get there. But if 
 the Sheriff gets him he will be put somewhere where he 
 can't get out for a while. The only way to keep your 
 secret is to turn him over to the Sheriff." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 250
 
 XXV 
 
 Lasky Goes Home 
 
 WE HELD a meeting in our clubhouse next 
 day after school. All of us boys talked only 
 about Oder, Fourth-in-Line Red Runner, whom 
 we had captured and turned over to the Sheriff. He was 
 brought before old Judge Granbery, and, although he was 
 careful in his answers to the Judge's questions, he wasn't 
 quite slick enough for the old Judge, and the result was 
 that the Judge got the idea that he was a pretty bad 
 boy, and that it would be best to put him somewhere 
 where he could do no more harm. The last I heard about 
 it was that the Sheriff was taking him to Watertown to 
 put him in some school there where he would have to 
 stay until he became a good boy. 
 
 "Well," I said to Shadow Loomis, "it's one Red 
 Runner less to be afraid of. But I wish it had been Har- 
 kinson instead of Oder. As long as Harkinson is free 
 I'm always going to be uneasy." 
 
 "I wish it had been Androfski," he said. "Androfski 
 the Silent. I tell you, Hawkins, Harkinson ain't half as 
 bad as Androfski. If you should ever get to know him as 
 well as I do " 
 
 "What's the use picking out any single one of 'em?" 
 broke in Jerry Moore. "Catch the whole bunch at once 
 that's what I say." 
 
 "But that's what you can't do," said Shadow Loomis. 
 "Look here, Jerry, you tell us how to do it, and I'll help 
 you if the others won't." 
 
 "Gimme time," said Jerry. "I'm thinkin' up a way. 
 251
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 You'll see, Shadow. I'll have 'em all marching up to 
 the Sheriff some day." 
 
 I smiled at Jerry. 
 
 "He's got a bad habit, Jerry has," I said to Shadow 
 Loomis. "He counts chickens. But if he does figure 
 out a way he's better'n I am. You can count on my 
 help, too, Jerry." 
 
 "On all of us," said our Captain, Dick Ferris. "If 
 Jerry or anybody else can figure out a way to trap the 
 whole gang of Red Runners, it's our duty to see that it's 
 done." 
 
 Doc Waters came down to our clubhouse after the 
 meeting. I was left alone in my little office, and he 
 scared me when he suddenly said: 
 
 "Glad to find you here, Hawkins, old boy. The Judge 
 asked me to see you. He wants to talk to you." 
 
 "Wait," I said, "I'll call the boys. They're out in 
 the hollow. We will all go up." 
 
 "No," said Doc, "he wants to see you alone." 
 
 "Good Lord, Doc," I said, "have I done some- 
 thing?" 
 
 Doc laughed. 
 
 "I don't think so," he said. "I think he wants to 
 see you on business." 
 
 "Oh," I said, "he's got a job for me, huh? Oh, 
 well, come on, I'm ready." 
 
 The old Judge sat in his dusty office with his feet 
 upon his desk, and his hat shoved back upon his half- 
 bald head. He scowled through his spectacles at the 
 sound of our footsteps, but smiled when he saw who it 
 was. 
 
 "Sit down," said the Judge shortly. We both took 
 seats. I twirled my hat in my hands while I wondered 
 what was coming. It was a long time before he spoke. 
 
 252
 
 LASKY GOES HOME 
 
 Then he said: "How long have you known this gang of 
 boys who call themselves the Red Runners?" 
 
 "I've known some of 'em a long time, Judge," I 
 answered, "and there's a lot of 'em I don't know at all." 
 
 "Can you give me their names?" 
 
 "No, sir. Not all of 'em. The leader is Long Tom. 
 He used to bum around with Stoner's Boy you re- 
 member Stoner, Judge." 
 
 "Yes, yes. I suppose these boys are of the same 
 brand." 
 
 "Worse lots worse. These fellas don't stop at any- 
 thing, Judge. Stoner was never so bad as Harkinson " 
 
 "Harkinson? That's the name of another one?" 
 
 "Yes, sir. "He's second-in-line, sir." 
 
 "Second-in-line? Just what does that mean, Haw- 
 kins?" 
 
 "Well, Judge, they all have numbers. Wear 'em on 
 their sleeves. You see, Long Tom is the leader, so he 
 is Number One. Harkinson is next, so he wears Number 
 Two. Androfski " 
 
 "Androfski? Is that another one's name? Doctor, 
 wasn't there an Androfski 
 
 "Yes, Judge," said Doc Waters, "that was the name 
 of the fellow who got seven years you were the Judge 
 at his trial, you will remember " 
 
 "Ah, yes, now I remember," interrupted Judge Gran- 
 bery, "he broke out and tried to throw an exploding 
 bomb in my window." 
 
 "That's the one," said Doc. "This might be a rela- 
 tive of his perhaps his son for all we know." 
 
 "Go ahead, Hawkins. That makes three names we 
 have. Any others?" 
 
 "Oder he was the one we caught, you know. He 
 was fourth-in-line." 
 
 253
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 The Judge nodded. "Yes, he's safe for a while. I 
 hope we will be able to send the rest of them to keep him 
 company very shortly. How many others do you know?" 
 
 "Only one, Judge," I answered, "his name being 
 Lasky, seventh-in-line." 
 
 "Seventh-in-line," the Judge repeated; then he 
 chuckled and looked up at Doc Waters. "It's re- 
 markable, isn't it, Doctor, how they go about their 
 business? You wouldn't imagine boys to organize and 
 keep such order, would you?" 
 
 "They're all much older boys than Hawkins and his 
 playfellows, Judge," said Doc, "and it is really a shame 
 for such bigger boys to come around here to annoy our 
 youngsters." 
 
 The Judge looked serious. 
 
 "Hawkins," he said, "I don't have to warn you. 
 These boys from up the river are not safe for you boys 
 to deal with. You understand?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," I replied, "but we never start any trouble, 
 Judge, I'll give you my word. It's only when they come 
 down the river bank that we get mixed up with 'em. 
 And we've got to fight back, Judge; we've got to take 
 our own part." 
 
 The Judge smiled. 
 
 "To be sure, Hawkins," he said; "but it is best that 
 we put a stop to it as soon as possible. I always call you 
 boys my junior police, and you have always kept order 
 and done the right thing, and I am proud of you our 
 whole town is proud of you. But we do not want boys 
 from other towns coming in here and making trouble. 
 1 suppose they will try harder than ever now to get you, 
 because you caught one of their pals. That is why 
 I sent for you. You must not give them a chance to 
 catch one of you. And you have given me the names of 
 
 254
 
 LASKY GOES HOME 
 
 five of these boys. I will have the Sheriff of Watertown 
 to look them up and see if he cannot get them. Mean- 
 time, try to get the names of the rest of them." 
 
 "I'll try," I said, shaking my head doubtfully, 
 "but I don't believe the Sheriff of Watertown will ever 
 get his hands on 'em, Judge. They're too slick for 
 him." 
 
 "We shall see," said Judge Granbery. "That will be 
 all, Hawkins, you can go now." 
 
 I hurried back down to the clubhouse. Shadow and 
 Robby Hood were just ready to leave in their launch. 
 They came back with me, and we went into my little 
 writing office and I told them what the Judge said to 
 me. 
 
 "It's fine for him to try to help," said Shadow 
 Loomis, "but it won't do any good. Nobody in Water- 
 town knows where those boys have their headquarters. 
 If they did the Sheriff up there could have caught 'em 
 long ago or at least a few of 'em." 
 
 "Don't you know all their names, Shadow?" I 
 asked. 
 
 "No," he answered. "I don't know any but Har- 
 kinson and Androfski those two always stuck to- 
 gether." 
 
 "I was in their headquarters last year," said Robby 
 Hood ; "that was the old place in the old wbarfboat. But, 
 since the time they broke the big plate-glass window 
 in that Main Street store, they moved out of their old 
 headquarters, and nobody has been able to find out 
 where they moved to. But the time I was in their old 
 headquarters I noticed they had a printed list of the 
 names of the Red Runners, showing each one's number, 
 you know." 
 
 255
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "Ah," said Shadow, "if we could only find out where 
 they meet " 
 
 We heard a shouting in the hollow our boys were 
 yelling and running. The next instant we heard the 
 front door of the clubhouse open quickly and slammed 
 shut again. I stepped through the curtains of my office 
 doorway and looked out into our meeting room. 
 
 A Red Runner stood there. He was peeping out 
 of the corner of the front window. 
 
 "Well, hello!" I said. 
 
 The Red Runner turned like a flash. He wore a 
 "7" on his sleeve. It was Lasky. 
 
 "Listen!" he said, holding his finger to his lips. I 
 heard the sound of our boys outside, shouting and yell- 
 ing as they ran past. "They'll not come in here," 
 said Lasky. "They wouldn't think I'd dare to hide 
 in here, would they?" 
 
 "Lasky," I said, "it seems as though it doesn't 
 make any difference. We can't let you go, you know. 
 Not this time." 
 
 "All right," he said, "just so they don't get their 
 hands on me. That big Jerry fella hates me. Him and 
 the others would give me an awful licking, Hawkins, 
 and I know you will play fair with me. I was just trying 
 to get to my boat. I would have gotten away if I hadn't 
 slipped. It's muddy there on the side of the hollow." 
 
 "You've been spying again, eh, Lasky?" 
 
 "Yes, it was my turn. I had to come. It's the first 
 time I had a turn spying since the time you let me go, 
 Hawkins." 
 
 "You're going to the Sheriff this time, Lasky," 
 I said. 
 
 He gave me one look. Oh, boy! I wish he hadn't 
 given me that one look. It made me feel sorry for Lasky. 
 
 256
 
 257
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 He didn't seem to me as bad as the other Red Runners. 
 He wasn't as big as the others. I thought, maybe, he 
 had a mother somewhere 
 
 "Lasky," I said, "where'd you come from where's 
 your home?" 
 
 "Down in Kentucky I lived in the country before 
 I came to Watertown." 
 
 "Came up here to get a city job, didn't you? Yes, 
 I know. Then you met this Red Runner gang, and just 
 went from bad to worse. Is your mother living?" 
 
 "I ain't heard for nearly a year, Hawkins." Lasky 's 
 voice was low. 
 
 "She'd be mighty proud of you, wouldn't she, Lasky, 
 if she knew where you were and what you were doing 
 instead of having a good job and working honest. 
 Wouldn't she be happy to know?" 
 
 Lasky looked down upon the floor. He couldn't 
 look me in the face when I told him that. I knew it 
 hurt him, but I wanted it to. I felt sorry for Lasky. 
 
 "Lasky," I continued, "it ain't too late for you to save 
 yourself. You're only a kid there's a big life ahead of 
 you. I'll give you one more chance to get away, Seventh- 
 in-Line Lasky. Will you listen to me?" 
 
 "Don't ask me to squeal on the Red Runners, Haw- 
 kins," he said, looking up. "I ain't the best fella on 
 earth, but that ain't ever been said about me yet. I 
 won't snitch." 
 
 "No," I said to him, "I won't ask you to give away 
 any secrets. I've got one thing to ask of you if you want 
 to go free. What do you say?" 
 
 Lasky dropped his head on one shoulder, as if he were 
 tired, and sat down in our Captain's chair. 
 
 "I don't care what happens any more," he said, in a 
 tired voice. "I ain't had much fun out of life, Hawkins." 
 
 258
 
 LASKY GOES HOME 
 
 "Well, listen to me, Lasky," I said. "Cut loose from 
 this Red Runner gang. Make up your mind to quit 
 right now. Go back to your mother " 
 
 Seventh-in-Line Lasky started up. 
 
 "That's where I belong," he said. "She ain't seen 
 me for more 'n a year " 
 
 "Go back to her, boy," I said. "Wherever she is take 
 off that red jacket and put on a plain one and go back 
 home where you belong." 
 
 Lasky looked at me for a minute without speaking. 
 Then his eyes wandered over to where Shadow and Robby 
 Hood stood. 
 
 "They're all right," I said. "What I say goes. What 
 are you going to do?" 
 
 Lasky 's lips parted as if he wanted to say something; 
 but no words came. Instead there came tears in his 
 eyes, and he bowed his head on his arm and leaned 
 upon the table. I made a motion to Shadow and Robby 
 and we moved back into my little writing room and left 
 the Seventh-in-Line alone to make up his mind. We 
 could hear him sobbing in the other room, and I knew 
 the poor kid felt awful. 
 
 "You did right, Hawkins," whispered Shadow Loomis. 
 "It wouldn't have done any good to turn him overto 
 the Sheriff." 
 
 No one said a word after that. The little old brass 
 clock on my desk ticked away the minutes, and we all 
 stood around trying to think of something cheerful. 
 The silence was broken at last by the sound of our boys 
 outside coming back again thinking that Lasky had es- 
 caped them. 
 
 "Here, Hawkins." 
 
 Lasky stood between the curtains of my doorway 
 holding out his red sweater. He had taken it off. He 
 
 259
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 had made up his mind to cut loose from the Red 
 Runners. 
 
 "Now, I'm going," he said. "You'll never have any- 
 thing to blame me for again." 
 
 "Wait a minute," said Shadow Loomis. He pulled 
 off his cap and coat, and then drew over his head the 
 black-and-white sweater that he wore. "Here, Lasky," he 
 said, "it's cold. You'll need something to keep you 
 warm. I'll trade you." 
 
 Lasky accepted the black-and-white sweater, and 
 both Shadow and Robby helped him on with it. He 
 had no sooner finished putting it on when we heard our 
 boys rush up on the front steps. Shadow snatched the red 
 sweater out of my hand and threw it behind my desk. 
 Robby and Shadow stepped up in front of Lasky so 
 that they hid him out of sight. 
 
 Jerry Moore led the boys in. "His footprints led 
 up to the porch," he was saying to them. "We were fools 
 not to look for that in the first place. Hello, Hawkins, 
 how long you been here?" 
 
 "All the time," I answered, "ever since the meeting." 
 
 "Well, then," said Jerry, "there's a Red Runner hid- 
 ing in here somewhere. He fooled us, but we came back 
 and followed his tracks. They led right to the porch 
 here. He must 'a' come in. Where is he?" 
 
 "Nobody wearing a Red Runner's sweater is in this 
 clubhouse," I said. 
 
 Jerry scratched his head and looked sore. The other 
 boys crowded behind him. Then Jerry walked over to 
 Shadow and Robby. "Ah, what's this?" he said. "I 
 see. Stand aside, you fellas." 
 
 They stepped aside. Lasky stood forth, but no longer 
 Seventh-in-Line. He was a different boy in the black- 
 
 260
 
 LASKY GOES HOME 
 
 and-white sweater. Jerry Moore looked him full in the 
 face for a minute, then his glance fell upon the black-and- 
 white sweater. 
 
 "You're sure there is no Red Runner here, Hawkins?" 
 he said to me. 
 
 "Quite sure," I answered, "there is no Red Runner 
 here now." 
 
 Jerry nodded his head. Then he turned to the other 
 boys. 
 
 "Stand back there," he ordered. "Let this fella have 
 plenty of room." 
 
 They fell back and formed a line on either side. 
 Lasky stepped forward quickly, and walked through the 
 lines. He carried his cap in his hand, and his head was 
 bent down. At the door he paused, then he turned 
 and looked back at us. 
 
 "Good-bye," he said, in a low voice. "It looks like it's 
 going to snow. What a fine Christmas it'll be. And I'm 
 going home I'll be there in time to wish her a Merry 
 Christmas, Hawkins." 
 
 Then he was gone. Through the window we watched 
 him as he flew down the river path to his boat that he 
 had hidden somewhere, and I waited to see which way 
 he would go. He dodged out of sight for a few minutes. 
 When he appeared again he was in his boat on the river, 
 rowing fast. And it was not going to Watertown. 
 
 Jerry came over and shook my hand. "Good, old 
 Hawkins," he said in a low tone. 
 
 "You understand how it was, Jerry?" I asked. 
 
 He nodded. "I know your ways, Seckatary," he 
 said. 
 
 While we were talking I watched Shadow Loomis 
 out of the corner of my eye as he backed toward my desk 
 
 261
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 and stooped for something on the floor. He had his back 
 turned as he buttoned up his coat, but I knew he was 
 hiding Lasky's old red sweater under his jacket. 
 
 "We've got to be going," he said. "You fellas might 
 as well walk down to the boat and see us off." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 262
 
 XXVI 
 
 A Bag of Toys 
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE! How pleasant it sounded as 
 I said it to myself on my way down to our head- 
 quarters after supper. The snow was flying thick 
 and fast, and it sure seemed like old times. As I neared 
 the clubhouse in the hollow I could see through the win- 
 dow the tiny lights of the candles on the Christmas tree 
 that the boys had set up and I knew the boys were al- 
 ready there, because I heard the opening strains of 
 Adeste Fideles as Lew Hunter began to play the or- 
 gan. It was the Latin song we had been practicing for 
 the last two weeks; the preacher had asked Lew to teach 
 us that song so we could sing it early Christmas morning 
 in the church. 
 
 I waited there by the door until the end of the song. 
 Then I clapped my hands. 
 
 "Fine, fellas," I said, "you certainly have taught 
 them their parts, Lew. Golly, but you sure can sing 
 low notes loud, Jerry." 
 
 "It will sound better with you, Hawkins," said Lew. 
 "Come on, try this second verse. We will sing two, you 
 know, in the morning." 
 
 Well, we sang the next verse, but I didn't notice 
 that my voice made any difference, except maybe it 
 made the singing a little worse than it was without me, 
 but it was suddenly stopped by the sound of a bell out- 
 side, and before we could get to the door it opened and in 
 came Doc Waters, dressed up like Santa Claus. 
 
 "Well, boys," he hollered, grinning at us, "how do I 
 look, hey? Got to play Santa Claus for Ben Bigstaff's 
 
 263
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 little kids, so I thought I'd drop in here first and see that 
 you fellas got a present, too. How do I look, Hawkins, 
 old boy?" 
 
 "Fine, Doc," I said, "I always knew you would make 
 a good Santy Glaus. Gee, Ben Bigstaff's kids will be 
 tickled when they see you. What you got in the sack?" 
 
 "Oh, toys and trinkets and things the kids like," 
 said Doc, putting down the big pack on a chair. "See if 
 you can fasten the strap on my shoulder, boys. Now, 
 when I stoop down. Wait a minute, don't put that bell 
 in the bag. Got to have that to wake the kids up with 
 when I come. Here, git out o' that, Bill Darby. What 
 you so anxious to close her up for? Wait till I git this 
 clumsy bundle out. There y'are. You pass 'em 
 around, Hawkins. One for every fella in the clubhouse 
 Shadow Loomis and Robby Hood, too. Good-night, 
 and a Merry Christmas to you all." 
 
 "Good-night, Doc," we all hollered at once. "Same 
 to you, Doc. Thank y* very much, Doc." 
 
 And with his pack on his back old Santa Claus Doc 
 Waters went out into the snowstorm. We all crowded 
 around as Bill Darby untied the bundle and took out of 
 it a lot of the finest pocket-knives we had ever seen, and 
 each boy had his name carved in the handle. Just like 
 good old Doc; always a friend of us boys. We never 
 had a better friend than Doc Waters. I put the two 
 knives aside for Shadow and Robby, for I expected 
 them to show up. I didn't think they would pass us up 
 on Christmas Eve. 
 
 "Put new candles on the tree, fellas," said our Cap- 
 tain, "these have burned low; don't let 'em burn too 
 low or they might set the tree afire." 
 
 It must have been about half an hour later when, 
 just as we were ending up the old shepherd's song, 
 
 264
 
 A BAG OF TOYS 
 
 Shadow Loomis and Hobby Hood came in. Robby 
 rushed in first and held the door open while Shadow 
 dragged in some heavy thing. As soon as he had it in the 
 light I saw it was the pack of toys that good old Doc 
 Waters had on his back when he left. 
 
 "Good-night, Shadow!" I exclaimed, "what's this 
 mean? How'd you come by that bag o' toys?" Shadow 
 gave one of his funny little laughs, while Robby Hood 
 blurted out : 
 
 "We swiped it out of a cheese hole somebody has on 
 Burney's Field." 
 
 "Red Runners," said Shadow. "We followed a bunch 
 of 'em down here. Had a chance to follow 'em and they 
 went for Burney's Field. You can see their bonfire from 
 here. Got a Christmas tree and every thing; but you'd 
 never know it lest somebody would lead you to it. We 
 found this pack o' toys hidden there. What would they 
 be doing with it? Must of swiped it, I says to Robby, so 
 we just brought it along until we could find somebody 
 who lost it." 
 
 "I can tell you that quick enough," I said. And 
 then I told them about Doc coming in dressed as Santa 
 Glaus, to take these toys to Ben Bigstaff's kids. "Now, 
 what I want to know, Shadow," I said, "is how they got 
 hold of Doc's bag of toys, when we know we strapped 
 it to his shoulder so it wouldn't come off easy." 
 
 Before Shadow could answer there was a pounding 
 on the door, a pounding as if somebody wanted to break 
 it down. Jerry Moore rushed to the door and pulled it 
 open. Into the room, without waiting to be asked, 
 walked a Red Runner walked right up to the table and 
 stood there beside the Christmas tree. 
 
 It was Androfski the Silent. Under his beak of a 
 nose his lips curved into a smile like a little half moon. 
 
 265
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 He stood still, his rifle resting in the crook of his arm. He 
 waited for me to say something. We were all a little 
 excited, but I tried not to show how excited I was. 
 
 "Merry Christmas, Androfski," I said; "sounded 
 like you was trying to break our door down." 
 
 His lips moved. He replied something, but I could 
 not hear his voice. 
 
 "Watch his lips, Hawkins," said Shadow in a whis- 
 per; "you can't hear his voice." 
 
 I stepped up closer and turned my ear to his lips. 
 
 "What did you say?" I asked. 
 
 Then, for the first time, I heard Androfski speak 
 and I knew why they called him Androfski the Silent. His 
 voice was like a thin whisper. I could just barely make 
 out his words, but I missed every other syllable 
 
 "You watch my lips" I heard. "That's how- 
 others understand " 
 
 Ah! poor old Androfski. In spite of all that I had 
 heard of his wicked deeds I felt sorry for the Silent 
 Third-in-Line. I stepped back and watched his face. 
 Shadow Loomis tried to step up to him, but I saw 
 Shadow's fists were doubled up and I pulled him back 
 by my side. 
 
 "Go on, Androfski," I said; "I will watch your lips. 
 Speak slowly." 
 
 "Thanks," his lips said to me; I had thought it would 
 be hard for me to understand him, but I was surprised 
 how easily I could see him say "thanks." He spoke very 
 slow. 
 
 "Your boys have stolen from us. This is Christmas. 
 We do not care to have any trouble with you on this night. 
 Christmas means the same to us as it does to you. 
 You are fair-minded; you won't let them keep what they 
 have stolen, Hawkins." 
 
 266
 
 TrfE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "Don't let him get away with that soft talk, Haw- 
 kins," said Shadow Loomis; "make him lay down that 
 gun and him and I will settle our old fight right 
 here." 
 
 "Easy, Shadow," I said. "It's Christmas. Look 
 here, Androfski, is this the stuff my boys have taken 
 from you?" I pointed to the bag of toys. 
 
 "Yes," replied the silent one in his silent way, "they 
 took that away from us." 
 
 "Well, then," I said, "we happen to know this bag 
 o' toys. How did you come by it?" 
 
 I watched for a reply on those silent lips, but none 
 came. The grin disappeared from Androfski's face 
 and his lips were pressed shut in a thin line. 
 
 "Androfski," I said, "we think you've stolen this 
 bag yourselves. We will let you tell the Sheriff where 
 you got it. You are our prisoner, Androfski. Lock that 
 door, Jerry." 
 
 As if the wind had pushed it, the door opened be- 
 fore Jerry could get to it and in walked Harkinson 
 yes, the old hypnotizer himself, dressed hi red sweater 
 and cap. 
 
 "Merry Christmas, all," he said with that old smile 
 that I had first seen last summer upon the island. "I 
 hope you are glad to see me. I heard everything you 
 said to Androfski; he's my pal, you know, and if you 
 really mean to turn him over to your Sheriff, I hope you 
 will take me with him. He can't talk, you know. I 
 always like to stay close by Androfski, I do. We're 
 awful good pals, me and him." 
 
 Now, I don't know what it is about Harkinson that 
 makes us feel strange when he is near us, but I tell you 
 that the minute he stepped in we all fell back as if a 
 
 268
 
 A BAG OF TOYS 
 
 powerful wind had struck us. I jumped up, however, 
 and yelled: 
 
 "Get around them, fellas! Don't let them get a 
 chance to get out. Harkinson, you'll get your wish. 
 To-night both of you go up to the Sheriff's office. I'm 
 sorry it had to be on Christmas Eve, that's all." 
 
 Harkinson, standing beside Androfski, turned and 
 grinned at me. 
 
 "Don't be afraid, my dear Seckatary," he said, "I 
 know when the jig's up. We are in your hands. I ain't 
 kicking about nothing." 
 
 Jerry, Bill, and Johnny had hurried around to the 
 front. We were surrounding the two Red Runners. 
 "Get some rope, Roy Dobel," ordered our Captain; 
 "I'll take your gun, Androfski." 
 
 Androfski handed over the rifle and as he did so 
 I saw the words "Christmas gift" form on his lips; 
 then he smiled that little half -moon smile under his beak 
 nose. Jerry must not have locked the door very tight, 
 for a sudden strong wind blew it open and a bushel of 
 snowflakes blew in. I turned my eyes quick enough to 
 see Harkinson jerk his old brass horn from under bis 
 red sweater, and raising it to his lips, blew two loud blasts 
 upon it before any of us could get to it. I yelled. Shadow 
 Loomis sprang at Androfski. Jerry Moore flung both 
 arms around Harkinson, but the two Red Runners 
 laughed loud and shoved us aside. 
 
 "Change your mind, Seckatary," laughed Harkinson; 
 "my boys have heard that sound of the horn. They'll 
 all be here in three minutes I told 'em to wait right 
 under the trees outside by golly, here they are now." 
 
 And they came. Golly Moses, how they came! 
 Three at a time they leaped into that door. What 
 
 269
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 chance had we against that army of red-jackets? Jerry 
 and Shadow flew again at Androfski and Harkinson. I 
 saw two Red Runners leap upon Dick Ferris, and I also 
 noticed that Perry Stokes and Bill Darby were trying 
 to help Roy Dobel out of a swarm of redcoats. That's 
 about all I had time to see, for the next second three 
 of 'em were on me, mauling me and dragging me down. 
 I went down; what use to try to stand up? Not with all 
 that weight on me. I'd rather fight wildcats than Red 
 Runners. For a minute I felt their fists pounding on 
 me and then I got a kick in the ribs from a Red Runner's 
 boot and I rolled into a corner to get out of the way of 
 that pushing and shoving bunch, the noise of whose 
 feet on the floor sounded like the stamping of horses. 
 
 I remember hearing shouting outside. I remember 
 even that I thought somebody was yelling "Hawkins," but 
 I couldn't tell for certain; not hi that noise and clatter 
 of the fight could you hear anything for certain, but I 
 do know that all at once Harkinson's brass horn rang 
 out again three blasts it sounded, short and snappy 
 the signal for alarm, telling the Red Runners to run 
 and live up to their name. Like a drove they stampeded 
 out into the night. Over went the Christmas tree. I 
 hurried out of my corner and yelled for some of the fellows 
 to come and help me with the tree. Some of the candles 
 were still burning and they set fire to the tree. Dick 
 Ferris came and helped me with the tree and we stamped 
 out the fire. It almost ruined the tree, but we shoved 
 it up again in its place, after all the candles were out. 
 I wondered why the others had not come to help, too, 
 but when I turned I saw the reason. 
 
 Perry Stokes, Johnny McLarren, and Lew Hunter 
 were sitting on a big, husky Red Runner, who looked like 
 he was sorry he ever came into our clubhouse. Roy Dobel 
 
 270
 
 A BAG OF TOYS 
 
 
 
 and Bill Darby had a fellow cornered over under our 
 coat hooks, and Hobby Hood and Shadow Loomis 
 had one tangled up in the curtains between the meeting 
 room and my writing office. 
 
 "Good-night!" I yelled, "where's Jerry Moore? 
 Did they take him?" 
 
 "No, you big boob," came Jerry's voice from under 
 the table, "I got a red boy under here and he's too big 
 for me. Come and help me if you don't want him to 
 get away." 
 
 "Halloo!" came a call from the porch. And there, 
 in the door stood the Sheriff and Santa Glaus Doc 
 Waters, I mean, dressed like Santa Glaus. Doc was lean- 
 ing upon the Sheriff and they walked slow. Two other 
 men stood outside; they were the Sheriff's men. 
 
 "Merry Christmas, Sheriff," hollered Jerry Moore, 
 poking his head from under the table. "I've got a 
 Christmas gift for you if you'll come and help me git 
 him out." 
 
 The Sheriff laughed. I noticed Doc Waters limped 
 as he walked to a chair and sat down. 
 
 "We heard 'em, Hawkins," said the Sheriff, "and 
 they heard us 'hallooing' for you; that's what made 'em 
 run, when they heard us coming, but you've got four 
 of 'em, heh? Oh, Judge Granbery will be glad to know 
 this. It's a merry Christmas, ain't it, boys?" 
 
 He lined up the four captured Red Runners. We 
 did not find out their names, but I made a note of their 
 numbers on their sleeves; Number 14 was the one 
 Jerry had caught under the table; Number 8, Shadow 
 Loomis and Robby Hood had tied with the door cur- 
 tains; Number 18, Perry and Johnny and Lew had sat 
 upon; Number 6, Roy Dobel and Bill Darby had cor- 
 nered under our coat hangers. The Sheriff whistled out 
 
 271
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 the door and in came his two deputies and they took the 
 Red Runners out. 
 
 "They came for me just as I left the clubhouse, 
 Hawkins," said Doc Waters; "they must have known I 
 had that bag o' toys for the Bigstaff kids. They jumped 
 on me like a pack of wolves I bet you there must have 
 been twenty Red Runners in that gang. No, they didn't 
 hurt me, but they got the bag. I got myself to blame for 
 nearly breaking my leg. I was fool enough to run after 
 'em, and I went slam-bang over a log; it was all white 
 with snow; you couldn't tell a log from a hole in the 
 ground. The last I saw of 'em they were rowing acrost 
 the river." 
 
 "They've got a hiding place on Burney's Field," I 
 said. 
 
 "Yeah, I guess so," said Doc, rubbing his bruised 
 leg, "but I picked myself up and dragged my way up to 
 the main road, and there I meets Sheriff, here, and I tell 
 him about it and he brings his two men down here with 
 me. Seems like we come just in time. Sounded like 
 you all were having a hot time when we got near your 
 clubhouse." 
 
 We all laughed. Doc and Sheriff laughed, too. We 
 told 'em all about it. 
 
 "It's getting late," I said, "the boys will have to get 
 up early to-morrow morning to sing in church. Do you 
 want to hear a song before you go, Doc?" 
 
 We sang Adeste Fideles again. I saw the Sheriff 
 snatch his hat from his head when he heard us begin. 
 I wondered if it reminded him of Christmas when he 
 was a little boy. 
 
 "Holy Smoke!" exclaimed Doc, "there's the bag my 
 very bag full of toys for Ben Bigstaff's kids Hawkins, 
 they didn't get it after all." 
 
 272
 
 A BAG OF TOYS 
 
 Sure enough. There, partly hidden under the 
 table, lay the old Santa Glaus pack. 
 
 "It's too late for you boys to do any more to-night," 
 said Doc, "but the first thing to-morrow morning you 
 bring that pack o' toys to Ben Bigstaff tell him Santy 
 Claus had an accident." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 273
 
 XXVII 
 
 New Year's Eve 
 
 "Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, 
 The flying cloud, the frosty light; 
 The year is dying in the night; 
 Ring out, wild bells, and let him die." 
 
 I RE AD those words over. Somehow they made me 
 feel sad. Here it was New Year's Eve, and we had 
 gathered for our last meeting of the year in our 
 old clubhouse. On the little square of blackboard on 
 the wall beside the organ, Lew Hunter had chalked the 
 words of the song he wanted us to sing to-night. We 
 had only practised it once, and that was in the afternoon, 
 when Perry Stokes brought down a book of Tennyson's 
 poems, and showed us the piece. Lew Hunter ad- 
 mitted it was a beautiful song to sing, and the only 
 trouble was that it didn't have any music notes to it. 
 But Lew is a born music master; he fished through all 
 his music books, and finally got a piece of music that 
 would go with the words. So we practised it that after- 
 noon. But it takes some fellows longer to memorize 
 words; and so Lew had put the words on the black- 
 board. 
 
 Well, we all took our places, and held a little meeting. 
 It seemed to me as I looked at our Captain that he 
 seemed a little sad. I felt that way, too. I believe we 
 all did. We had a good time in the year that was dying. 
 We were ready to greet the new year with a glad hur- 
 rah and a warm hand, but hated like the dickens to 
 let go of the old. 
 
 274
 
 NEW YEAR'S EVE 
 
 "The last meeting of the year," pur Captain was 
 saying: "The last meeting of the year will come to 
 order, fellas. It was a good year, a fine year. We kept 
 out o' trouble, we got away from the Red Runners every 
 time, and one more thing, we got our Seckatary back 
 with us in the year that's about to put on its hat and 
 say good-bye to us." 
 
 He turned. They all turned and smiled at me. 
 
 "Forget that part," I said; "forget it, Dick." 
 
 But before I got those words out of my mouth all 
 of those good old friends of mine were on their feet 
 and shouting "Hurrah!" "Hurrah!" they shouted, three 
 times. And then they sat down together. You can't 
 beat that. No, sir. I'm Seckatary of a bunch of fellows 
 might be the same kind o' kids you are, might be as 
 good as the best and as bad as the worst, but let me tell 
 you there ain't any better kids in the world you see 
 how they stick up for me for their old Seckatary, 
 and I never did anything for them to talk about no, sir, 
 never in my whole life. But they 
 
 "Perry Stokes will sing," said Dick. "Perry will 
 give the old year the send-off. You boys might not know 
 it, but Perry is a singer in a class by himself. I never 
 knew it myself. But Lew Hunter says he is the best 
 singer he ever knew, and Lew knows what he talks about. 
 When Lew gives the sign we will all join in. Step up, 
 Perry." 
 
 Perry Stokes always does what he is told. No mat- 
 ter who tells him, he gets right up and does it. He seems 
 to think because he is overseer of our meeting place 
 every one of us boys is his boss. 
 
 He sang that song; that wild-bells song that says 
 good-night to the old year, and tells everybody to let 
 the poor old year die in peace. He sang it, if it ever was 
 
 275
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 sung. I never will forget how he sang. Perry has a 
 sort of hushy voice; maybe you don't know what I mean, 
 but his voice sounded like he was trying to sing without 
 waking up anybody. Well, and with that hushy voice, 
 he sang that strange verse about the wild bells that ring 
 out in the frosty night. He had us all listening, looking 
 at him, as if we wondered how he could sing that way. 
 And when he sang "The year is dying in the night," he 
 made me feel as if was really happening and I looked 
 out of the widow into the night, as if I expected to 
 see something of the old year himself shambling off to 
 his grave. I didn't, of course, but I saw 
 
 Yes, I saw something. I saw faces at every window; 
 noses pushed against frosted panes, dim, yellow faces of a 
 dozen Red Runners listening to that song. It came 
 time for us all to join in the singing, and I took my eyes 
 from the windows and sang with the boys. I said nothing 
 at all of what I had seen. But I knew. I knew that the 
 place was surrounded by Red Runners. And New 
 Year's Eve! 
 
 After the meeting I asked the boys to stay until the 
 bells and whistles began to greet the new year. But it 
 seemed like all the fellows had something else to do. 
 Roy Dobel had an invitation to a barn dance; Jerry 
 Moore said his folks had company and he had to be 
 home; Bill Darby and Johnny McLarren were going 
 to a party at some girl's house; Dick Ferris said he never 
 liked to hear the whistles and bells, and always went to 
 bed early on this night; Perry Stokes said it was his 
 pop's night off, and, of course, it wasn't more than right 
 that he should be at home. 
 
 "Well, Lew," I said, "Only you and me left. I knew 
 I'd have one " 
 
 "Excuse me, Hawkins," said Lew, "but you know I 
 276
 
 NEW YEAR'S EVE 
 
 have to play the chimes to-night the preacher wants me 
 to be there at quarter to twelve " 
 
 "Good-night," I said, "it's only nine o'clock " 
 
 "Yes, I know, but I've got to see that everything 
 is ready; the bell ropes got to be tested all over 
 and" 
 
 "Go on," I said. "Get out, Lew, you might be too 
 late already." 
 
 I sighed as I found myself all alone in my little office 
 in the clubhouse: New Year's Eve! Time to be celebrat- 
 ing. And every one of my gang left me. Fifteen minutes 
 ago those same fellows were shouting "hurrah" for their 
 Seckatary. Here I am alone! 
 
 "Ah, well," I said to myself, "they're only kids; 
 they've got to have some good times; it's only a grouchy 
 Seckatary fella like me who " 
 
 But then I suddenly thought of something. What 
 of those pasty faces that had been pressed against the 
 window panes while we were singing? The place was 
 surrounded by Red Runners. And here was I alone 
 what if Harkinson and Long Tom came, and took me 
 up to their headquarters to torture me to pay me back 
 for what they thought I had been to blame for? 
 
 "Hawkins, Hawkins." 
 
 It came in a whisper from the outer room. I pushed 
 through the curtains. The meeting room of the club- 
 house was dark. Lew had been the last to leave and 
 turned out the light. Two dark forms I could make out 
 in the shadowy room. My heart leaped into my throat. 
 At once I believed it was Harkinson and Long Tom, 
 or Androfski. 
 
 "Hawkins," came the whisper again, and I knew it 
 was Shadow, and with him was Robby Hood. "They're 
 here the whole Red Runner crew every last one of 
 
 277
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 'em, surrounding the place. I don't know what's their 
 game, but " 
 
 "Come in here," I ordered. Shadow and Robby came 
 in. Shadow carried under his arm a parcel done up in 
 brown paper. He hurriedly took off his coat and un- 
 wrapped the brown parcel. I saw at once that it was 
 the red sweater that Seventh-in-Line Lasky had given 
 us when he cut loose from the Red Runners. 
 
 "Shadow!" I cried, "you're not going 
 
 "Yeah," he broke in, "you guessed it, old Seckatary. 
 I'm going to try to get in their crowd to-night. I'll look 
 just like any other Red Runner, won't I?" 
 
 He had slipped on the red sweater with the white 
 number "7" on the sleeve, and turned his cap around 
 so that the peak was in back. 
 
 "They'll think Lasky has come back," he said; 
 "they'll never know the difference. I'm bound to fol- 
 low them and find out their secret headquarters, Haw- 
 kins." 
 
 "It's risky business, Shadow," I said. 
 
 "I'm used to risky business, Hawkins," he said; 
 "that's the kind I like best. This is going to be fun for 
 me." 
 
 "But how can you find them?" I asked. "Shadow, 
 if they're scattered all through these woods " 
 
 "Listen!" 
 
 Shadow opened the door a trifle and peered out. 
 Over the frosty night air came the sound of Harkinson's 
 horn. 
 
 "That's my call," said Shadow Loomis; "now, Haw- 
 kins, I'm off. Keep my coat. If I don't come back for 
 it" 
 
 "You'd better come back for it," I shouted to him 
 as he leaped out of the door into the dark. I heard his 
 
 278
 
 NEW YEAR'S EVE 
 
 feet sink in the snow as he landed. Then he was gone like 
 a shadow. 
 
 Robby Hood and I had a good game of checkers to- 
 gether. In fact, we had several games. We intended 
 to sit up until the wild bells began to ring out to the wild 
 sky that the old year was dying. It must have been nine- 
 thirty when Shadow left. It was about eleven o'clock 
 when we heard a step upon the porch. I knew it 
 was Shadow. 
 
 He came in hurriedly. 
 
 "I've got it, fellas," he said. 
 
 It was snowing. His red sweater was almost white 
 with snow. He started to pull off the old "7" red coat. 
 
 "Got what?" I asked. 
 
 "This," he said, handing me a sheet. 
 
 I unrolled the paper. It was the roll call of the 
 Red Runners, and their numbers. Here it is : 
 
 1, Long Tom; 2, Harkinson; 3, Androfski; 4, Oder; 5, 
 Jude; 6, Crosby; 7, Lasky; 8, Fraley; 9, Thrasher; 10, 
 Bushelman; 11, Grenofeld; 12, Fisher; 13, Wolf; 14, 
 Spooring; 15, Katman; 16, Wills; 17, Runge; 18,Thom- 
 son. 
 
 "Good-night, Shadow," I said, "Judge Granbery 
 will be glad to have this list. It's the whole gang, I 
 guess." 
 
 "Yep, every one," replied Shadow. "And where 
 do you think they meet, Robby?" 
 
 "Search me," Robby answered. 
 
 "You know the old tobacco warehouse the one 
 the high water always reaches, and chased the tobacco 
 people out of?" 
 
 "Not there?" 
 
 "Yep upstairs they own the whole place. No- 
 279
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 body goes there any more, you know. They've got 
 all the windows covered and everything, and inside 
 say, boy, you ought to see the fine lamps, the chairs, 
 the carpets on the floors. Why, Hawkins, they've 
 got our clubhouse skinned a mile. They didn't suspicion 
 me once answered my name every time Lasky. 
 Asked me where I'd been once, Harkinson did, and I 
 told him home, to see my mother for Christmas. That 
 was the right thing to say, wasn't it?" 
 
 "Sure," I said. 
 
 "Well, that's what I thought," continued Shadow 
 Loomis; "then they had their regular meeting; they're 
 sore as the dickens at you fellas for catching Crosby, 
 Fraley, Spooring, and Thompson on Christmas Eve. 
 They talked about a plan to help them escape from the 
 Sheriff's jail." 
 
 "No chance," I said; "the Sheriff has already sent 
 them to the school where they will have to stay till they 
 learn better manners." 
 
 "That's what I thought," said Shadow; "then they 
 had a regular feast, a New Year's Eve feast, but, honest 
 tc goodness, Hawkins, I believe they must have stolen 
 all the stuff they had to eat, else where could they have 
 gotten chicken and ham and bread and cake and pie 
 
 "Sure," said Robby; "stolen. Bakery shops and such 
 is their line. They fixed up for their feast " 
 
 "I didn't dare to stay for that," said Shadow. "I 
 excused myself. I took a chance there. Didn't know if 
 Lasky had been in the habit of excusing himself or not. 
 But I played Lasky's part as I thought he would have 
 played it, and, believe me, I got away with it. The 
 roll call of their gang is on the wall in the hallway just 
 as you go out. I had this paper and my pencil ready. I 
 just copied the list before I snuck out, Hawkins." 
 
 280
 
 ANV THEM ~PEI?I?Y STOKES'S 
 HUSHV VorcE . * KIM^ out THE 
 OLF, T^IHG IN THE MEW." 
 
 281
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "Fine boy, Shadow," I said; "Judge Granbery will 
 give you a reward for this." 
 
 "Put it in the treasury box if he does," said Shadow. 
 "I had enough fun out of it for my reward. Believe me, 
 Hawkins, I'm going to try it again, sometime." 
 
 "I wish you wouldn't, Shadow," I said; "it's risky 
 business." 
 
 "I'm used to risky business, Hawkins," said Shadow, 
 laughing; "dern if I could have any fun if there weren't 
 something risky about it." 
 
 "Listen, fellas." 
 
 Ah, yes, boys, we listened. How peaceful how sweet 
 was the sound of those chimes as it swung over the mid- 
 night air to us that lonesome New Year's Eve dear old 
 Lew Hunter's chimes, playing good-bye to the old year 
 that was ticking away its last fifteen minutes. You 
 fellas think we didn't have any feelings I wish you'd 
 seen how Shadow and Robby snatched off their caps 
 and bowed their heads, as the soft notes of those steeple 
 bells brought "Lead, Kindly Light," across the frosty, 
 crisp air to us. "Throw open that door," I shouted, 
 and Shadow stepped up to open the door so that the 
 sound could come clearer. "Lead, Kindly Light, 
 Amid the n'circling Gloom " 
 
 Yeah ! We followed the sound, with the words in our 
 mind. Lead, kindly little light of luck, of right, of good, 
 of whatever you want to think it is; but lead us again, 
 as you did in the year just passed, through trouble, 
 through sorrow, through care ' 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 It was Robby who spoke. Around the side of the 
 clubhouse footsteps slushing through the snow the 
 sound you could never mistake. And then and 
 then Perry Stoke's hushy voice: 
 
 282
 
 NEW YEAR'S EVE 
 
 "Ring out the old, ring in the new, 
 Ring happy bells across the snow; 
 The year is going, let him go; 
 Ring out the false, ring in the true.*' 
 
 And the next minute they had all leaped on the 
 porch would you believe that a bunch of fellas would 
 think that much of you, that they would play all night 
 long, and, then, when the hour of the new year comes, 
 they would be right there with you? But there they 
 were every one but Lew Hunter, and his place was 
 filled by the sound of those chimes that he was playing 
 for us, the soft-toned bells that sent a kindly song to 
 us from the church steeple. 
 
 Quickly they came in we had much to tell them. 
 Shadow repeated what be had seen and heard in the 
 Red Runners' headquarters, and they all sat and won- 
 dered until he had finished. When he had done so, 
 the chimes had stopped. 
 
 "Happy New Year, fellas," I yelled, "it's after 
 twelve" 
 
 "And time to be going," said Robby; "come, Shadow, 
 that old engine might not work " 
 
 But the engine did work, and we waited there on the 
 river bank until we saw their little launch disappear 
 around the upper bend. Then 
 
 "Come on, fellas," I said, "to-morrow we will have 
 our first meeting in the new year. It's time for us all 
 to get some sleep." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 283
 
 XXVIII 
 
 A Rolling Stone 
 
 ONE afternoon after school, we had held our meeting, 
 and all of us boys were amusing ourselves in the 
 clubhouse playing checkers and drawing on the 
 blackboard, Lew Hunter, playing the organ, and some 
 fellows singing, and just having a quiet, good time, be- 
 cause it was too cold to go out. Jerry Moore had the 
 stove roaring, and it was fine and warm in the little 
 clubhouse. It had been snowing all day and the ground 
 was covered almost knee deep. I was sitting in my little 
 office behind the meeting room, writing the minutes of 
 the meeting, when I heard the door opened and Bill 
 Darby's voice say, "Yes, he belongs to our club, but he 
 ain't here now." 
 
 I got up and walked into the meeting room. 
 
 "Tell him to come in, Bill," said Dick Ferris. 
 
 A young fellow entered, a ragged-looking somebody, 
 older than any of us boys, but yet he was only a boy. 
 He wore only a ragged felt hat, a blue shirt, a thin, worn 
 coat and a pair of long, torn trousers. 
 
 "You say he does come down here sometimes?" 
 he asked, turning to Bill Darby. 
 
 "Yes, sometimes. Here, Hawkins, you better talk 
 to him. He's asking about Shadow." 
 
 "My name's Loomis," he said, looking at me. "I 
 thought maybe I'd see Shadow here fellas down the 
 river said they saw him with you boys sometimes." 
 
 "Yes," I said, "he may come down to-day, but I 
 hardly think he will, because the snow's so deep. If 
 it ain't personal " 
 
 "He's my brother," said the ragged stranger; "I 
 284
 
 A ROLLING STONE 
 
 ain't been home the last few years; I ain't never had 
 much use for home; but sometimes I git a notion in my 
 head that I want to see that kid brother o' mine he's 
 a nice kid, Shadow is, ain't he?" 
 
 "We think so," I answered. "Maybe you would 
 like to sit at the stove and get warm? Shadow might 
 come. I wish you would stay. I know he wants to see 
 
 you." 
 
 "How do you know that?" he asked. 
 
 "Oh, because," I answered, "if I had a big brother 
 like you, I'd want to take a look at him once in a while 
 even if " 
 
 "Go on," said the ragged one; "go on, say it. You 
 might as well knock me, too. Most everybody does. 
 Nobody's said a word much for me, except maybe 
 Shadow. That's why I ran away from home." 
 
 "Ah!" I said, "so that's how it came about, eh? 
 Well, I hope Shadow comes." 
 
 Then no more was said. The stranger seated him- 
 self by the stove to get warm and the boys went on with 
 their pastimes, while I went back to my writing. 
 
 Shadow did not come that afternoon. 
 
 One by one the boys left for home. At last I was 
 left alone with the ragged one. 
 
 "Well," I said, "I must be going. I hope you will 
 make yourself at home. You'll have to hike out and 
 dig up some firewood if you want to keep warm, though. 
 We don't keep very much on hand. You'll be able to 
 find some down on the bank." 
 
 "No thin' but snow down there now," he said; 
 "but I'm used to the cold. I don't seem to mind it 
 much any more. If you boys don't mind I'll thank you 
 for lettin' me stay in this little shack. It beats sleeping 
 out in the snow." 
 
 285
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "You mean you want to sleep in here all night?" 
 I asked. 
 
 "That is, if you boys don't mind," he said. 
 
 I walked up close to him and looked into his face. 
 
 "Listen," I said, "are you sure you are Shadow 
 Loomis's brother?" 
 
 "I ain't never told a lie yet, boy," he replied with a 
 steady look at me; "I guess they don't think much o' 
 me back there, but listen, I ain't forgot that my father 
 was an honest man, and truthful. And in them re- 
 specks, I live up to the old man that much I saved out 
 o' myself." 
 
 I nodded my head and turned to go. 
 
 "All right, Loomis," I said, "the place is yours." 
 
 And then I went out. For I had seen something in 
 his eyes that looked so much like Shadow Loomis, that 
 I knew he was not lying to me then. 
 
 And he slept there that night. 
 
 The next day when I came down to the clubhouse, I 
 could see that our visitor had gone out. His footprints 
 were the only ones in the new-fallen snow, and they led 
 away from the porch steps. 
 
 "Fine," I said to myself, "I hope he's gone." 
 
 But no such good luck. Before we had our meeting 
 over, he came in, with a bag of buns in his arm. He 
 saw that we were holding a meeting. I don't know 
 whether he knew it was a meeting, but he saw that we 
 were talking about something, so he just slipped sidewise 
 over to the stove, sat down and stuck his feet upon the 
 fender, and with his back toward us, began to eat his 
 sugar rolls. 
 
 The river bad frozen over and our boys had brought 
 
 286
 
 A ROLLING STONE 
 
 down their skates. So it was that after the meeting was 
 over, I was left alone with the ragged brother of Shadow 
 Loomis. 
 
 "Well, Loomis," I said, "seems like you might have 
 a long wait. Shadow hasn't shown up yet." 
 
 "You think he will come some time?" 
 
 "Oh, sure," I said, "but this ice hi the river might 
 keep him away. He ain't strong on footwork, and it 
 is a pretty walk from Watertown down here. If the 
 river was running, he'd most likely come down in Robby 
 Hood's launch " 
 
 "Robby has he got a launch?" 
 
 "You know Robby, too, then?" 
 
 "Best fella I ever met. But where did he git enough 
 money to buy a launch?" 
 
 I explained that Robby's launch was a homemade 
 one; a skiff with a motor attached. My raggedy com- 
 panion chuckled to himself. 
 
 "That's Robby, the little smart ellick," he said, 
 "always fixin' up things outa nothing." 
 
 Then he turned to me suddenly and said: 
 
 "Say, are you the guy they calls Seckatary Hawkins?" 
 
 "That's me," I answered. "Who told you?" 
 
 "I met a guy," he said, "a guy what didn't have any 
 money he was going home, and he wanted to see his 
 mother before Christmas. He asked me for a loan. I 
 only had two bits, and I give it to him. He says to me, 
 'Listen, bo, if you ever need a friend, go into a house 
 that looks like a Httle dump on a river bank not far 
 up the creek, and ask for a guy they calls Seckatary 
 Hawkins. He'll help you out,' says he, 'and he'll give 
 you some ' ' 
 
 "Wait a minute," I interrupted, "who was this 
 guy you met?" 
 
 287
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "He did tell me his name, but I done forgot it. 
 Maybe if you could " 
 
 "Was it Lasky?" 
 
 His face lit up with a smile. 
 
 "That's him," he said, "Lasky, and he told me" 
 
 "Oh, never mind," I said, "never mind what he 
 told you. I know. Seems like a fella can't do any- 
 thing without somebody else getting on to it " 
 
 "Listen here, Seckatary Hawkins," spoke up my 
 raggedy boarder, "I ain't askin " 
 
 "I know," I said, "I know." 
 
 The door opened. Shadow Loomis stood there. He 
 did not see my raggedy friend, because I sat in front of 
 him, and from the door he could not be seen. 
 
 "Seek," he says (Shadow had got a habit of calling me 
 "Seek" lately.) "Seek, if you'll step outside, please, 
 you'll see the latest invention of your honorable friend 
 Robby Hood and yours truly, a regular twin-six ice 
 skooter that'll take the wind at forty-five miles an hour, 
 providin' the ice holds " 
 
 Suddenly he stopped. Just that quick he stopped, 
 for I had stood up and stepped aside and his eyes fell 
 on the raggedy visitor stretched out on the chair with 
 his feet on top of the stove. 
 
 "Hi, Shadow?" 
 
 "Hello, you big bum," said Shadow, and there 
 was a scowl on his face. "Where on earth did you come 
 from?" 
 
 He walked over quickly to where my visitor boarder 
 sat. The latter took his feet down hurriedly, and stood 
 up to meet Shadow. 
 
 "Hello, brother," he said; his voice was much lower. 
 
 "Fine brother you are, ain't you?" remarked Shadow. 
 "What you doing here? Why do you always try to follow 
 
 288
 
 289
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 me up and make me ashamed that I got a brother like 
 you? Ain't I got a right to be let alone, John?" 
 
 "Shadow," said the other in a low tone, "I ain't come 
 to shame you, kid. Listen, I ain't had a thought never 
 in my life of doing that. I ain't caring about the folks 
 back home I won't go there, Shadow, 'cause I know they 
 don't want to see me. I knew they wouldn't want 
 to see me, but I thought sure you would be glad to see 
 me, kid." 
 
 Shadow straightened up, and his eyes sparkled fire. 
 
 "Well, I ain't," he said; "you ain't got no right to 
 come here, John. I'm thought well of by this bunch 
 of boys, and I like 'em. I don't want you to queer me, 
 see?" 
 
 Shadow came over to where I stood, and looked out 
 of the window. His dirty brother stood with his 
 arms hanging in a helpless attitude by the stove, as if 
 he wanted to say something 
 
 "Oh, all right, Shadow," he said: "I didn't think. 
 I guess I can skip out without doing you much trouble " 
 
 "The trouble's done," spoke Shadow sharply, turn- 
 ing suddenly upon his older brother, "you've probably 
 told all the other boys that you were my brother. What'll 
 they think of me now, huh? Fine brother you make for 
 a fella." 
 
 I wish I could have said something, but at the time, 
 nothing came to my mind that would have done any 
 good. I watched Shadow as he turned his vexed face 
 again to the window, and I also saw the pain in the face 
 of his raggedy, no-account brother. 
 
 "You can tell 'em," said the ragged brother, "you 
 can tell 'em, Shadow, that I was a liar if you want to 
 tell 'em it ain't so, tell 'em I ain't your brother, and never 
 was. I don't want to spoil anything for you, kid. Gee 
 
 290
 
 A ROLLING STONE 
 
 wiz, you always been the happiest thing I had to think 
 about, out there on them cold nights alone, when I 
 didn't have anything to eat for five or six days, and when 
 the snow was coming down. I always thought about 
 you, kid; yeah, 'member how I used to call you 
 'the kid'? Them was the happy days, wasn't they, 
 Shadow? Gosh, if you wasn't the finest little kid brother 
 I ever knew. And then we had to go and grow up; and 
 me, I come to be a bum, but you you stayed right. I 
 always knew you would make a fine boy, Shadow. That's 
 why I had to come back dern if I didn't you know 
 those Christmas days we just had? they made me think 
 about it so much they felt like they was squeezin' 
 my throat, and tellin' me to go back and take another 
 look at you, kid." 
 
 He stopped his long speech, but neither Shadow 
 nor I moved. As for me, I could not. Something in 
 that raggedy boy's talk had "squeezed my throat," 
 as he put it. I could not believe that Shadow Loomis 
 could be so hard-hearted to this poor brother of his. 
 For I was certain it was his brother as certain as I 
 was that my name was Hawkins. 
 
 The slam of the door brought us both around at 
 once. We were alone, Shadow and I. 
 
 "Hawkins," he said, "I hope you will forget this." 
 
 "I hope I won't," I said; "I don't want to forget 
 it, Shadow. That boy is your brother. I wish I had one, 
 Shadow. I ain't got a brother, but if I had, kid, I 
 wouldn't care if he was just like your John. Gosh, 
 Shadow, you don't know how lucky you are to have a 
 brother. I think he's the finest fella " 
 
 "Shut up," said Shadow shortly, "you and him make 
 me sick." 
 
 "All right," I said, "but he's your brother, Shadow. 
 291
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 He's not so smart as you; any blind man could see that. 
 But he means well. Any kind of a brother is worth 
 having, and I wish " 
 
 "I wish he were your brother," broke in Shadow. 
 
 "So do I," I said, "I'd give him a glad smile, any- 
 way, and tell him there's happier days ahead for him. 
 I wish I could trade you something for him, Shadow, 
 but everything I own wouldn't be worth 
 
 "Aw, dry up!" shouted Shadow, and out into the 
 snow he went, leaving me there alone. 
 
 That night the Red Runners came. Angered by 
 our success in capturing their numbers 6, 8, 14, and 18, 
 they had been watching our clubhouse every night 
 for a chance to tackle us. And this night it so happened 
 that only Bill Darby, Shadow Loomis, Robby Hood, 
 Dick Ferris, Lew Hunter, and myself were there. It 
 was their chance. They made the attack while we were 
 sitting quietly around, talking about the snow fort we 
 would build on the morrow. The door burst open as if 
 a whirlwind had struck it, and we found ourselves held 
 by Red Runners. 
 
 Now, how do you think we were saved? Sure, 
 Loomis's raggedy, no-account brother John. Yeah, he 
 saved us that night. He stood in the doorway a minute 
 after we were captured. He carried a good stick, nothing 
 else. 
 
 "Do these red birds belong to your crowd, Seckatary 
 Hawkins?" he called, looking over the heads of all those 
 present. 
 
 "No!" I yelled, "not one of 'em. They don't belong 
 here, John." 
 
 "All right, then," he sang out, and, swinging his 
 stick over his head, he made for the first one, which 
 
 292
 
 A ROLLING STONE 
 
 happened 'to be Long Tom himself. With a yell Long 
 Tom sprang for the door. Shadow's raggedy brother 
 let him pass, and as he did so the second one, whom I 
 knew to be Harkinson, in spite of the wide-brim hat 
 that hid half of his face, shot past him, and the next sec- 
 ond there came the sound of the horn the call of the 
 leader to his Red Runners, and they all obeyed that call 
 and followed out the door. We were alone, safe. 
 
 "He's just a rolling stone," said Shadow to me, "and 
 he'll never amount to anything. That's why I won't 
 have anything to do with him." 
 
 "Yeah, bul Shadow, he's a rollin' stone, just a-rollin' 
 home, and you better help him roll along to where he be- 
 longs. I bet you there were days when he did you many a 
 good turn, Shadow." 
 
 Shadow's eyes were turned to the floor. 
 
 "Well, yes," he said, "he did do me some good turns 
 by Jove, Hawkins, there was a time when " 
 
 "Never mind telling me," I said. "Tell your brother 
 John about it." 
 
 He did. Yeah. Him and John had a long talk be- 
 fore Robby and Shadow left. 
 
 "If you're going to sleep here all night, John," 
 I said to the raggedy one, "we might as well leave the 
 key with you." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 293
 
 XXIX 
 
 The Trap that Didn't Work 
 
 THE Rolling Stone slept in our clubhouse again that 
 night. He pulled all the small rugs from the meet- 
 ing room into my little writing office and made him- 
 self a bed on the floor beside my little desk. When 
 we came down to hold our meeting, after school, he was 
 out, but he came in before the meeting was over. He 
 didn't pay any attention to us; just mosied over to a chair 
 by the stove, put a few more sticks in the fire and then 
 sat there with his feet propped up on the fender. Nobody 
 said a word to him; nor did he offer any word to us. 
 Shadow Loomis and Robby Hood had not come down; 
 so there was no meeting that day between the Rolling 
 Stone and his more-refined brother. 
 
 The reason I had not turned over the list of Red 
 Runners' names to Judge Granbery was that Shadow 
 had begged me to hold it until he had just one more try 
 at it himself. He was very keen on capturing the Run- 
 ners without the help of the Sheriff and his men. So I had 
 shoved that roll call of names into my desk the night 
 Shadow brought it to me, and there it stayed. A few 
 days after our last fight with the Runners I got a note 
 from Shadow. 
 
 "To-night we will make the try," he wrote, "and then 
 if we don't make good, you can turn the list over to 
 old Judge Granbery. Robby will be waiting for you 
 at the steamboat landing. He will show you the place. 
 I will be inside the Red Runners' headquarters. I will 
 open the front door when I hear your knock. They 
 
 294
 
 THE TRAP THAT DIDN'T WORK 
 
 never use that door, but I'll be on the inside. Bring all 
 the boys." 
 
 So that night we all met on the main road and 
 started walking for Watertown. When a machine came 
 along, going the way we were headed, I called. It was 
 a small machine, closed in with curtains. It stopped, 
 and a face looked out at us by jingo, it was good old 
 Doc Waters. 
 
 "Wait a minute, Doc," I said, "you got to take us 
 boys along." 
 
 "Where you boys going?" he asked. 
 
 "Watertown, to see a picture show," I said; "you 
 got plenty room for us." 
 
 "All right, jump in," he said. We all piled in good 
 night! what a tight fit it was for me to squeeze in after 
 all those other boys were in. But I got in all right. An- 
 other man sat in the front seat with Doc. I was sur- 
 prised to see it was the Sheriff. 
 
 "Say," I began, "did Shadow Loomis tell you " 
 
 "Tell me what?" asked Doc. 
 
 "Oh, never mind," I said, "only it seems funny 
 that you and the Sheriff happen to be going to Water- 
 town just when we boys are bound for there." 
 
 "I don't see anything funny about it," said Doc, and 
 he stepped on the gas and away we went. 
 
 Lew Hunter started up a song, and while we sang I 
 noticed that the Sheriff and Doc were talking very ear- 
 nestly together, but I could not overhear what they said. 
 We arrived at Watertown in less than half an hour, 
 and Doc stopped right in front of the steamboat landing. 
 
 "How'd you know we wanted to get out here, Doc?" 
 I asked. 
 
 "Wherever you say, Hawkins, old boy," said Doc 
 with a laugh, "and if you want to ride back with me, 
 
 295
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 I'll be waiting here for you when you're ready to go 
 home." 
 
 "All right, come on, fellas," I said. We piled out. 
 Doc waved at us and then we waited till the car dis- 
 appeared up the little street that led away from the 
 landing. As we turned a dark figure came from behind 
 the shadows of the steamboats at the wharf. It was 
 Robby Hood. 
 
 "This way, fellas," he whispered; "Come on, follow 
 me, and be careful. Get in line everybody and don't 
 make a sound." 
 
 When I come to think of it, that was a very foolish 
 thing for us boys to be doing going straight into the 
 nest of the Red Runners, thinking we were going to cap- 
 ture them that easy. But it was Shadow Loomis who 
 had given us the nerve to do it. Shadow made me be- 
 lieve he had it all fixed; that he would do everything to 
 trap the Runners, and all we would have to do would be 
 to come and take them to the Sheriff. If it hadn't 
 been for the lucky way but wait, I'll tell you just how 
 it happened. 
 
 It's a gloomy, mean-looking place that Red Run- 
 ners' headquarters. That dingy little street more like 
 an alley, I think dark, except for two street lamps 
 that threw very little light, and rows of ramshackle 
 buildings, pasted over with steamboat notices and cir- 
 cus bills and theater advertisements; it made me wish 
 we had not come. But Robby had led us past the two 
 lamp-posts, and we stood before a door a wooden 
 door of a warehouse, on which a "For Rent" sign had been 
 pasted a long time ago, and was half peeled off now. 
 
 "Now," whispered Robby, as we all gathered around 
 him. "When I give the signal the door will open, 
 and Shadow will be there. He will lead the way and tell 
 
 296
 
 THE TRAP THAT DIDN'T WORK 
 
 us what to do. Nobody must speak, and, above all, 
 watch your step so you don't stumble against something 
 hi the dark. All ready? Here goes, then." 
 
 Robby turned to the door and gently tapped it with 
 his knuckles. 
 
 "Tap Tap Tap-tap-tap " 
 
 And then we waited for the door to open. But it 
 did not open. For a few minutes we waited. Robby 
 tapped again. Still no answer. No sound came from 
 behind the door. 
 
 V' " 'S funny," muttered Robby; "it's Ihe time he 
 told me to be here. I'll try again." 
 
 He tapped once more. We waited again a few min- 
 utes. Still nothing happened. I know some of the boys 
 thought Robby was trying to kid us. 
 
 "By Jove, Hawkins, they've got him I bet you a 
 dollar he was caught else he'd be here to open this 
 door as he promised." 
 
 I had thought of that, too. I turned to our Cap- 
 tain, Dick Ferris. 
 
 "Take the boys back, Dick, to the place where Doc 
 Waters said he would meet us and wait till Doc comes. If 
 we don't join you in a short time tell Doc we went in 
 this place." 
 
 We watched them trot away, pass the two lamp- 
 posts, and turn the corner. Then Robby said to me: 
 
 **There's only one way Shadow showed it to me 
 himself. Will you take a chance?" 
 
 "For Shadow, sure. I want to find him, Robby, to 
 know he is safe, before I go home." 
 
 "Come on, then; it's over the housetops. You don't 
 mind that, do you?" 
 
 "I don't mind anything now. Lead the way, Robby, 
 old boy." 
 
 297
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 He dodged around and got ahead of me. I followed 
 like a cat. Two doors down there opened up a small 
 passageway between two houses. Into this he ducked. 
 I at his heels. The old building was empty and dark. 
 He leaped into a doorway which no longer had a door; 
 up a flight of steps; and started up another flight. 
 I stood with him at last on the third floor. He waited 
 only till I arrived, then stepped out of an open window. 
 When I followed I found we were on the roof of a build- 
 ing. From the river a glow from the wharf lamps 
 threw a screen of light on the river mist; outlined 
 against this I could see the ragged line of roofs and 
 chimney pots 
 
 "Come on, Hawkins," Robby's voice came from ahead 
 in the dark; "watch your step." 
 
 I lighted my way with my electric flash. Once we 
 had to make a pretty big jump from one roof to another. 
 I didn't dare to think how far down the street lay. 
 We got across it safe. Then into another window, down 
 one flight of steps and out onto another housetop. 
 
 "See," said Robby, pointing, "that's where we get 
 in." 
 
 A dim light came from a grimy window that faced 
 us across the housetop. The building next to us was 
 one floor higher, and it's only window opened onto the 
 roof we stood on. We could not see through the window 
 panes, so thick were they with dust and grime. I doubt 
 if the light could have been seen from the street below. 
 Robby lifted the window; it made an awful scraping, 
 squeaking sound. He stepped over the window sill and 
 motioned me to follow him. 
 
 We stood in a bare little hallway. A narrow stairway 
 led down. At the head of the stairs was an empty box, 
 on which stood a lantern. We started to go down the 
 
 298
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 steps. As we did so we heard a muffled sound. I 
 turned, and over against the wall, tied to a plain back 
 chair, a rag tied across his mouth, was Shadow Loomis. 
 
 I smothered the cry of surprise that came to my lips 
 when I saw him. Robby had seen him as quickly, and 
 together we rushed to him and in a little while had him 
 free. 
 
 "Thanks, fellas," he whispered, "don't talk. Long 
 Tom and Number Thirteen tied me up caught me just 
 as I was coming. They're suspicious of this window. 
 Good you didn't come sooner. They were watching it 
 all evening, Long Tom and Thirteen. But the rest of 
 the gang came back a while ago. They're holding a 
 meeting downstairs now. Harkinson's hi bad with Long 
 Tom, or something like that. Be awfully careful and 
 tiptoe after me." 
 
 You can't imagine how excited I was as we followed 
 Shadow down those narrow stairs. A door stood open 
 about an inch or two, and we tiptoed over and peeped 
 in. I never will forget how my heart thumped against 
 my chest when I looked for the first time into the meet- 
 ing place of the Red Runners. It used to be an old to- 
 bacco warehouse, but on account of the high water com- 
 ing into it at times it was no longer used. Two or three 
 old tobacco hogsheads still stood in corners, and here 
 and there lay small piles of tobacco leaf. The Red Run- 
 ners were sitting around a long table made of long boards 
 on top of empty packing cases. A fancy oil lamp stood 
 on it at each end. At one end sat Long Tom, and at the 
 other, facing him, sat Harkinson, while the other Red 
 Runners sat on the sides. The one thing that struck 
 me most was that Harkinson wore a pair of dark spec- 
 tacles, with turtle-shell rims. "Ah," I said to myself, 
 "his pals can't stand those hypnotizing eyes of his any 
 
 300
 
 THE TRAP THAT DIDN'T WORK 
 
 longer. They are making him wear glasses now to hide 
 his eyes while he is with them." I could not hear what 
 was being said at the table, the room was so big, and 
 the table stood at the other end. But I knew at once 
 there was a quarrel going on. Long Tom stood up and 
 shook his fist at Harkinson. I saw a Red Runner at 
 Harkinson's right stand up. By his beak-shaped nose 
 I knew him to be Androfski the Silent. His lips moved. 
 They were all watching him. Then the Red Runner on 
 Harkinson's left he was Number Five stood up, and, 
 in a voice that rang clear to us shouted : "We will stick 
 to Harkinson Androfski and me." 
 
 Three other redcoats from different parts of the crowd 
 jumped up and ran over to Harkinson's place. 
 
 "We stand by Harkinson," they shouted. 
 
 Long Tom jumped up again. He spoke, and his voice 
 was sharp, but I could not make out the words. Harkin- 
 son listened until he had finished; then, without making 
 a reply, he got up and, walking between Androfski and 
 Number Five, left the table, followed by the other 
 three who said they would stand by him. Harkinson 
 seemed to lean on Androf ski's arm. They came straight 
 toward the door where we stood. Shadow pushed us 
 back into the dark behind the door. It was good he 
 did, for when the six Red Runners came out they pushed 
 it wide, and we were completely hidden behind it. The 
 six redcoats went down the narrow stairs. I knew it led 
 to the front door the door by which Shadow had in- 
 tended to let us in. 
 
 When their footsteps could no longer be heard on the 
 stairs, we moved back to the crack of the door. As we 
 did so there came the muffled sound of Harkinson's horn 
 three blasts, short and snappy it was the signal 
 that meant to the Red Runner's "Danger is near." 
 
 301
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 We saw the Red Runners leap up from their seats at 
 the table. "Sit tight," yelled Long Tom, "it's only 
 Harkinson trying to frighten us we should have taken 
 that horn away from him before he got " 
 
 But none of those Red Runners listened to Long 
 Tom. For the sound of the horn had hardly died away 
 when there came other sounds, the sounds of many feet 
 stamping hurriedly up the narrow stair. I heard Jerry 
 Moore's voice and ran to the rail and looked over. All 
 of our fellows were coming. Doc Waters and the Sheriff 
 were coming with them. I turned to look again into the 
 meeting room. The Red Runners were all running out of 
 a little door in the corner at the farther end of the 
 building only Long Tom stood by his place, waiting 
 to see whether or not it was a trick that Harkinson 
 was playing. 
 
 "Get Long Tom, Robby," cried Shadow. "Hawkins, 
 don't let him go the others have got away." 
 
 We three rushed into that meeting room as our boys 
 reached the top step. But Long Tom was now satis- 
 fied that it was not a trick. He turned and ran out of 
 the door in the corner. We rushed after him, but as we 
 pulled the door wide we knew that he had escaped us. 
 There was another stairway. Down we flew, all of the 
 boys and Doc and the Sheriff behind us. 
 
 We stood in a little place that was once used for a 
 scales room. Some boards had been pulled up from the 
 floor. I could hear the wash of water, and as I turned my 
 flashlight into the hole I saw a few skiffs floating on the 
 water under the floor. 
 
 "That's how they entered this place from the river," 
 said Shadow. "This is high-water time and they can 
 bring their boats right under the floor." 
 
 302
 
 THE TRAP THAT DIDN'T WORK 
 
 But Long Tom was gone. All the Red Runners were 
 gone. We had not caught a single one. 
 
 We sat there at the table of the Red Runners and 
 Doc Waters and the Sheriff laughed at us. "If you fellas 
 are ready to go back home," said Doc, "come on be- 
 fore my machine is froze up." The other boys were 
 not ready yet, however. They had to take a look at the 
 place, and at the rugs and lamps and things the Red 
 Runners had in their headquarters. 
 
 "Say, Doc," I said as we sat alone at one end of the 
 table, "how did you find out?" 
 
 "How do you know I found out?" asked Doc, with a 
 serious face. 
 
 "Oh, you knew we were coming here to-night you 
 didn't meet us just by accident you brought the 
 Sheriff along to see that we wouldn't get hurt. I fig- 
 ured that out right away." 
 
 Doc grinned at me. "Same old Hawkins," he said. 
 "No matter where you are, in Cuba, or on a plain river 
 bank, or in Watertown, you never change much. You 
 always figure things out." 
 
 "Yeah," I said, "but I can't figure out how you got 
 word that we were coming here to-night " 
 
 "Well, Seckatary," he said, "I happened to drop in 
 the clubhouse to see you this afternoon, but you had al- 
 ready gone, and I found this on the table. You forgot 
 it; you must not be so careless about such things, Haw- 
 kins." 
 
 He reached in his pocket and handed me a slip of 
 paper. I knew it at once; it was the note Shadow had 
 sent me. 
 
 "I hope you won't blame me for reading it, Hawkins," 
 303
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 said Doc. "I always aim to take care of you boys, you 
 know." 
 
 I gripped his hand. "You're a prince, Doc," I 
 said. 
 
 Shadow Loomis came up to me to say good-night just 
 before we started to get in Doc's automobile. "Haw- 
 kins," he said, "I guess we might as well turn over the 
 Red Runners' list to the Judge to-morrow." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 304
 
 XXX 
 
 Harkinson's Last Visit 
 
 A FEW days passed in peace. Our meetings were 
 held every day after school without anything un- 
 usual about them; it was freezing weather, and 
 the snow lay white and cold with an icy crust upon it; 
 the river was frozen over from bank to bank. Shadow 
 Loomis and Robby Hood had not shown up for many 
 days, and still Rolling Stone John used our clubhouse 
 for a hotel. None of the boys kicked about that. I 
 don't know whether it was because he was Shadow's 
 brother or whether it was because they like John Loomis 
 himself; but anyway they let him alone. The boys 
 would all speak to him as they came in, and he would 
 answer them usually with just one word, "Howdy." 
 Then he would mind his own business and our boys would 
 go about theirs. 
 
 Now, on Thursday afternoon, just after our meeting, 
 I stayed inside, while the other boys went out to skate. 
 While I stood by the front window watching the fel- 
 lows cutting fancy figures on the frozen river my gaze 
 happened to wander over toward Pelham, and I was sur- 
 prised to see a group of Pelham fellows coming across 
 the ice. "Fine," I said to myself, "Pelham is going to 
 pay us a visit." I had not seen or heard from Briggen 
 and his gang for so long that I was almost about to for- 
 get them. 
 
 I settled myself in my chair at my desk and 
 waited for the knock on the door. It came. And when 
 I called "Come in," the door opened quickly, and Brig- 
 gen entered, followed by Dave Burns and Ham Gardner. 
 
 20 305
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "Hawkins," began Briggen, "it's up to us boys to 
 'tend to those Red Runners. It's about time we stopped 
 their foolishness." 
 
 "You've got my permission to go ahead, Briggen," 
 I answered; "what's going to stop you?" 
 
 "Come on," said Briggen peevishly, "you know 
 what I mean. You fellas and us fellas together must 
 stop 'em. Separate, we can't do nothin'. We all got 
 to work together." 
 
 "We have been working for a long time," I said; "we 
 are not worried, Briggen." 
 
 "Yeah, but now it's different. Used to be when they 
 only came down here once in a while, and most times 
 they was after you guys, not us. But now its different, 
 Hawkins. They're too near us Pelham folks to be pleas- 
 ing." 
 
 "You mean" 
 
 "I mean," said Briggen, "that Harkinson has split 
 with Long Tom. I knew it all along, Hawkins. They 
 can't be two leaders to any gang like that, and you know 
 it. You know Long Tom was boss after Stoner, and you 
 know Harkinson has a way of bein' boss hisself." 
 
 "Ah," I said, "Harkinson has broken away from Long 
 Tom, eh, Briggen? Is that what you mean, Briggen? 
 Harkinson has set up a gang of his own?" 
 
 "You got it," said Briggen; "and the worst of it is 
 that Harkinson has set up his headquarters in this 
 neighborhood too close to us Pelhams, I tell ya, 
 Hawkins. It can't be allowed. He's set hisself a head- 
 quarters over in Burney's Field. He's got a good lot 
 of redcoats with him; they's a lot that didn't care for 
 Long Tom. And they dug 'emselves out a neat cave 
 in the ground, you'd never find it, but ask Ham here " 
 
 "Cross my heart, and double cross it," broke in 
 306
 
 HARKINSON'S LAST VISIT 
 
 Ham Gardner in a low voice; "they've done all that. 
 Briggen is right. It was me as found it, Hawkins. I 
 seen Harkinson's spooky eyes they got me buffaloed; 
 every time I see 'em I feel like " 
 
 "I know, Ham," I said; "I've met Harkinson, and 
 looked into those hypnotizing peepers of his. You 
 shouldn't let this thing frighten you as it does. Boys, 
 I thank you for bringing me the news. If we can help 
 you out at any time call on us. We are with you for 
 putting an end to the Red Runners." 
 
 "I say, Hawkins," broke in Dave Burns, "aren't they 
 the slickest bunch you ever saw, though? I'll be jugged 
 if I ever saw " 
 
 "Remember Stoner's boy, Dave," I said; "the Red 
 Runners have nothing on him. They're not half as 
 clever. We will put them down and out for the count 
 before long. We might need you boys to help us, though. 
 Go back and take my advice, fellas; stay away from 
 Burney's Field." 
 
 "You don't have to tell me," said Ham Gardner. 
 
 And they left the clubhouse just as the Rolling Stone 
 came back from a walk through the woods. He was eat- 
 ing an apple and carried another. 
 
 "Who's them birds?" he asked, jerking his thumb 
 toward the Pelhams. 
 
 "Oh, those boys?" I said, "they are our neighbors 
 across the river." 
 
 He grunted something and went to his place beside the 
 stove. I went to work writing down the day's doings hi 
 my book. 
 
 I stayed down at the clubhouse longer than ususal 
 that evening. I heard all the other fellows shouting 
 
 307
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "So long," as they ran up the river path with their 
 skates rattling on a strap. I had got a late start writ- 
 ing and I wanted to finish up, because Lew Hunter was 
 not coming down to the clubhouse in the evening, and 
 when he didn't come I didn't either. I like Lew's music 
 and singing practice; if there isn't any singing, I'd just 
 as soon stay home. So there I was alone in my office, 
 with only Rolling Stone Loomis out in the front room 
 by the stove. 
 
 Once I looked out of my window. I seemed to think 
 something had flashed past the window pane. But I 
 saw nothing. I noticed that it had become dark outside, 
 which I had not noticed before because I had had my 
 lamp lit since meeting time. I went again to my writing; 
 once again I turned my eyes to the window at my left. 
 Surely something had been at that pane of glass. Else 
 why had my attention been drawn that way 
 
 Ah! There it was! I knew the reason now. Harkin- 
 son's steely eyes they were not drawn away this time; 
 steadily they gleamed at me through the frosted window 
 pane; then it seemed as if the steely glitter died out of 
 those eyes. Harkinson had lowered a pair of dark- 
 colored spectacles that he had raised while he looked at 
 me. For a moment those dark goggles remained there; 
 then the face disappeared. 
 
 "Good Lord !" I heard. And I turned and saw Roll- 
 ing Stone Loomis standing behind me. "Did you 
 see that, Hawkins? Did you see those eyes? Never 
 in my life did I ever see such eyes look into mine " 
 
 "Excuse me!" 
 
 A harsh, rasping sound came from the front room. 
 I felt the draft from the open door. There stood Har- 
 kinson my old-time enemy, my old hypnotizer himself, 
 in my clubhouse and behind him, holding him by the 
 
 308
 
 THROUGH THE 
 
 .FRO-bTEV WlNTTOW 
 
 FANE." 

 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 arm, was another Red Runner, who wore the Number 
 5 on his sleeve. 
 
 "Excuse me," repeated Harkinson, in that harsh, 
 rasping voice, a voice I had never heard before; either 
 Harkinson had suffered a change in his voice, or this 
 was not Harkinson. But I looked again, and I knew it 
 was he; it was Harkinson, yeah, with his new spectacles 
 that made him look like an owl I even thought I could 
 see that steely glitter behind those dark glasses. "I 
 come peaceful, Seckatary Hawkins," he said; "I come 
 to talk things over with you in peace. Under the white 
 flag, under a truce, Hawkins 
 
 "Yeah," I broke in, "say what you got to say, Har- 
 kinson. Don't try any your tricks 
 
 "No tricks," he cried, and his voice was more rusty 
 than before; "no tricks, as I am a Christian, Hawkins, 
 I give you my word. Sit down and we will talk." 
 
 I shoved two chairs out to him and his No. 5. They 
 sat facing me. Rolling Stone Loomis stood behind my 
 chair. 
 
 "I broke away, Hawkins," said Harkinson; "I broke 
 away from the Red Runners 
 
 "How come?" I interrupted; "you still wear the red 
 sweater with your No. 2 on your sleeve; and your pal 
 has No. 5" 
 
 "Gi'me time, gi'me time," cried Harkinson, "hear 
 me out, will you, Hawkins? We broke away, six of us. 
 We ain't with Long Tom no more, see? We cut loose, 
 like Lasky did, Hawkins. You know Lasky. We heard 
 what you did with Lasky. I come to you now to say 
 that we ain't gonna have no more to do with Long Tom 
 nor the Red Runners. The Sheriff is after me, it's me 
 he wants, Hawkins; more'n the other five that's with 
 me. We thought we was safe when we dug in over there 
 
 310
 
 HARKINSON'S LAST VISIT 
 
 on Burney's Field; but those Pelham boys told they 
 came to-day never mind how we found out. But I 
 come peaceful, Hawkins; I won't take revenge on Pel- 
 ham; and I won't bother you fellas no more, you can 
 bet on that; I'll never bother nobody no more. I ain't 
 what I used to be, Hawkins. I've been unlucky. I 
 got to be let alone till I can get somewhere; I got to take 
 a rest. Androfski has gone to fix things for me, and 
 when he comes back to fetch me, I will go away and 
 never come back. Everything will be all right, if the 
 Sheriff doesn't know that I if you will tell me you won't 
 tip us off, tell me you won't put the Sheriff wise till I 
 can get away. I'll make a bargain with you, Hawkins " 
 
 "I can't bargain with you, Harkinson," I said; for 
 I could not understand what the old hypnotizer was 
 driving at. "There's no use to go farther." I said. "I'll 
 tell you one thing which is only fair and square. I'll 
 not say a thing about you coming over here to-night. 
 That's all. Further than that, you and your pals will 
 have to take care of yourselves. It doesn't matter to 
 me whether you've broken off with Long Tom or not. 
 That's your business. But none of us fellas will forget 
 the things you've done to us. That's all. Now, git, 
 while the gittin's good." 
 
 Both Harkinson and his No. 5 rose at once. 
 
 "All right," croaked Harkinson's harsh voice; "all 
 right" 
 
 Oh, boy! How those steely eyes glared at me then. 
 He had backed away and raised his dark spectacles 
 for a moment. I moved back a step or two, and bumped 
 into the Rolling Stone, who seemed to have been pet- 
 rified by the look of Harkinson's eyes. 
 
 "You're gonna be sorry, Hawkins," he said; "there'll 
 311
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 come a day when you will feel sorry you had a 
 chance " 
 
 "Git out," I said, stepping up closer to the bully, 
 "git out before I throw you out." 
 
 He turned on me, his eyes flashing through those dark 
 glasses, and for a second I thought he would smash me to 
 the floor for saying that. But suddenly I saw the light 
 go out of his eyes yeah, I saw the steely light go out of 
 Harkinson's eyes, and I felt as though I would never be 
 afraid of the hypnotizer again. He stared over my head 
 as though he were listening. His pal stood holding the 
 door open waiting for him. "Come on," he called im- 
 patiently. And Harkinson, without another word, 
 turned to go. The funny part of it was that while No. 
 5 waited at the open door for him, Harkinson steered 
 for the window on the left. Number Five jumped and 
 grabbed his arm and pulled him out the door. That's 
 the way they went out together, arm in arm, and the 
 door slammed behind them. 
 
 I ran to the window on the left, Rolling Stone Loomis 
 sprang to the one at the right. We watched the two 
 Runners go down the steps into the ice-crusted snow. 
 I saw No. 5 slip and fall. Harkinson, by himself, walked 
 steadily forward, and I saw him bump smack up against 
 a tree. Then No. 5 was on his feet again, and caught up 
 with Harkinson. Locking his arm in that of the hypno- 
 tizer, he hurried him along, and the shadows of the river ( 
 bank hid them from our view. 
 
 We turned back, and I saw the Rolling Stone wipe 
 the perspiration from his forehead. 
 
 "You're not warm?" I said. 
 
 "Warm as I ever want to be," he said; "whew! 
 never did I see eyes like that fellow had." 
 
 312
 
 HARKINSON'S LAST VISIT 
 
 "Scared you, did he, John?" 
 
 "Scared me stiff, if I ever was," replied the Rolling 
 Stone. 
 
 "Well, John," I said, "you've been face to face with 
 one of the strangest boys you'll ever know in your whole 
 life. He was second-in-line in the Red Runners, and he 
 has had more to do with that bunch of red birds, as you 
 call 'em, than even Long Tom himself. He has hypno- 
 tizing eyes, Harkinson has " 
 
 "I know it," broke in the Rolling Stone, "don't tell 
 me, Seckatary Hawkins; good Lord, I felt weak as a cat 
 while he sat there. What's that makes a fella feel so 
 weak" 
 
 "I wish I knew, John," I said, "but all I know is that 
 it's Harkinson. The boys all know him. They have his 
 number, the same as you. He's a hypnotizer." 
 
 Rolling Stone John looked at me for a full minute; 
 then he wiped his forehead again and said: 
 
 "I guess I'll be moving along pretty soon, Seckatary 
 Hawkins. You fellas been mighty nice to me, but I guess 
 I'd better be on my way. I'm always on the go. And 
 anyway, I don't like to be around fellas with hyp- 
 notizing eyes. My heart won't stand it no sir-ree. 
 Good-night, if you're goin'. I guess I got to sleep here 
 once more." 
 
 I walked over to him and put my hand on his shoul- 
 der. 
 
 "John Loomis," I said, "I'm glad I met you. I've 
 had a lot of pleasure knowing you just these few days. 
 But I'd have lots more if you'd do one thing." 
 
 "Say which?" he asked, with a careless smile on his 
 tanned face. 
 
 "Go back home," I said; "back where your kid 
 313
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 brother is and the other folks who want you. They 
 won't say they do, John, but they want you all the same." 
 
 He lifted my hand gently from his shoulder. 
 
 "You're good, Hawkins," he said; "I know you're 
 all right. But you don't understand, see? You just 
 let me alone, and I'll get there some day, maybe. Just 
 now I ain't wanted no place but here. Just you fellas 
 you and your fine pals, Hawkins, want me and nobody 
 else in the world wants me at all. So if you don't mind " 
 
 "All right, John," I said, and sighed. 
 
 "Good-night, Hawkins, old boy," he said. 
 
 "Good-night, John." 
 
 And I put on my cap and buttoned up my coat collar. 
 As I walked up the path to the main road, I could not 
 help thinking of Harkinson, and the strange way he 
 acted. 
 
 "I wonder what's wrong with him," I said to myself; 
 "I bet we catch him before many days." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 314
 
 XXXI 
 
 The Prayer in the Log House 
 
 ON MY way to school next morning, I found 
 Briggen, the Pelham leader, waiting for me at 
 the corner. 
 
 "I got to tell you something, Hawkins," he said; 
 and he had a worried, frightened look on his face. "Us 
 Pelham fellas went spying on Harkinson and his rebels 
 last night." 
 
 "Rebels?" I repeated. 
 
 "Yeah, them what broke against Long Tom and went 
 with Harkinson. They got a purty good dugout on 
 Burney's Field. We spied on 'em last night, Dave Burns 
 and Ham Gardner and me." 
 
 "I thought Ham was afraid to go near Harkinson," 
 I said. 
 
 "He ain't afraid no more," said Briggen; "no use 
 to be afraid no more; Harkinson is turned Christian, the 
 old hypnotizer has. We heard him a-praying there in 
 his hole in the ground. It was sad; yes sir, Hawkins, 
 praying like he was going to die or something " 
 
 "What!" I exclaimed. "You're telling me the truth, 
 Briggen?" 
 
 "Sure as I'm standing here. I heard it myself 
 and Dave heard it, and Ham heard it; and when Ham 
 heard it, he got his nerve back, he wasn't afraid of Har- 
 kinson no more. Now, what I wants to know, Hawkins, 
 is what's the matter with Harkinson why should he 
 pray to God like he is afraid of some awful thing, and 
 what is it that makes Ham so brave when he used to be 
 so scared of the old hypnotizer?" 
 
 315
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "Go back and watch there all day, Briggen," I said. 
 "This afternoon when school is out I'll come over with 
 some of our boys. Something must be wrong you'd 
 better go, and, if anything happens, come back and tell 
 me." 
 
 After school we held our meeting in the clubhouse, 
 and the boys then went with their sleds and skates to 
 see the new sled track that Jerry Moore and Roy Dobel 
 had been bragging about, over on a hill near Dobel's 
 farm. I sat alone in my little writing room, while 
 Rolling Stone John sat in his old place by the stove 
 reading a fairy story book that used to belong to 
 Frankie Kane. 
 
 "Hawkins! Oh, Seek!" Shadow called from outside. 
 I hurried outside and found him on the porch. 
 
 "Hi, Shadow, old boy," I said, "what's on your 
 mind?" 
 
 I held the door open. Shadow did not answer me. 
 His gaze went over my head, into the clubhouse, where 
 bis no-account brother John sat with his feet upon the 
 fender of the stove. But John acted as though he didn't 
 hear a word. 
 
 "Has he been here ever since " 
 
 "Ever since you met him here, Shadow, "I answered. 
 "And it seems like he might be here forevermore. I 
 ain't the one to turn him out, you know that. He can 
 sleep in our clubhouse as long as he wants." 
 
 Shadow waved his hand. 
 
 "Pass him," he said. "Let's talk about something 
 else. I've got that ice skooter down here on the 
 river, and you'll be surprised how fine those sails work. 
 Tere's a stiff wind blowing suppose we go for a ride? 
 I've come all the way down on it." 
 
 316
 
 THE PRAYER IN THE LOG HOUSE 
 
 Together we walked down to the river bank. The 
 river was still frozen over from bank to bank. Beside 
 our ice-locked wharf stood the most beautiful ice boat 
 I ever saw, with sails so arranged that it could quickly 
 be made to catch any wind, forward or backward. While 
 I was telling Shadow how much I admired it, I saw 
 three boys running over the ice to us. They shouted 
 to me, and waved their hands, and I saw it was Briggen, 
 Dave Burns, and Ham Gardner. 
 
 "Shadow," I said, "don't start any fighting now, I 
 know you got a grudge against Briggen, but this ain't 
 the time to settle it, old boy." 
 
 "All right," said Shadow with a smile, and he turned 
 and walked back a few feet from where I stood. 
 
 "Hawkins," said Briggen, "something's doing. Four 
 Red Runners went back up the river this morning on 
 skates. Looks like they left old Harkinson in the lurch, 
 gave him the shake " 
 
 "I got you," I said; "I got you, Briggen. There's 
 only two over there in the hiding place now " 
 
 "No, there ain't none there now," interrupted Brig- 
 gen, "they're all gone four went up and two went down 
 the river. Now, what do you make out of that?" 
 
 "Only two went down you're sure of that, Briggen?" 
 
 "Sure as I'm alive." 
 
 "No use me going over to Burney's Field then you 
 go back to your side, Briggen, and wait watch for the 
 others, if they come back, you know. Stay on your side, 
 will you?" 
 
 Briggen promised to do what I told him, and the 
 three of 'em went back to their side across the river. 
 I was excited. The very thought of capturing Harkinson 
 made me full of fire. If four went up and two down the 
 
 317
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 river, it was a cinch that the two were hiding in the log 
 house on the island. 
 
 "Shadow," I said, "this is our chance, yours and mine. 
 We can capture the hypnotizer ourselves, Shadow 
 don't ask me why I know we can. Will you go?" 
 
 It was like asking Shadow if he would have a million 
 dollars. Sure he'd go. And so we started for the island. 
 I sat myself in that forty-mile-an-hour ice skooter of his, 
 and he gripped the sail ropes, and oh, boy, we were off 
 like a flash how we sailed! It seemed to me as if 
 the wind thought this little ice sailboat was its play- 
 thing, for it certainly was sailed along at a lively clip 
 and it was only once that we stopped once when we 
 drew in to shore and Shadow motioned for me to be 
 silent. I didn't know what was coming off until I saw 
 about five minutes later, a single solitary Red Runner 
 pass us, going up stream on skates. He wore No. 5 
 on his sleeve. 
 
 "Now, then," said Shadow, after No. 5 had gone 
 around the upper bend, "let's go." 
 
 Go we did. And we didn't stop until we came to 
 the island. 
 
 "What now, Hawkins?" asked Shadow Loomis, as 
 we stood before the log house. 
 
 "He's inside," I answered; "Harkinson's there. 
 Shadow, all by himself." 
 
 Shadow hesitated. 
 
 "I wish it were Androfski," he said, and he bit his 
 lip. 
 
 "Come on," I cried, "it's Harkinson, him with the 
 hypnotizing eyes, Shadow. What better capture could 
 you make *' 
 
 "I know, I know," broke in Shadow, "vou fellas have 
 worked yourselves up into excitement over Harkinson. 
 
 318
 
 THE PRAYER IN THE LOG HOUSE 
 
 When I know Harkinson ain't the one to be afraid of 
 at all. It's Androfski, Hawkins, he's the one you'll 
 be taking your hat off to when all is said and done. 
 As for this Harkinson " 
 
 "Listen," I said, sharply. 
 
 From the log house came a whimpering sound a 
 crooning, crying sound No! Never could I believe 
 that to be the voice of Harkinson. 
 
 "By golly, Shadow," I said, "some one else is in that 
 log house. That's not Harkinson 's voice. Listen!" 
 
 Together we listened again. Again came that croon- 
 ing, that crying no boy ever cried like that 
 
 "Oh, God!" it came to u^over that silent island still- 
 ness, "Oh, God, save me from this, save me from this." 
 
 Shadow Loomis turned and looked at me. But 
 I could not look him in the face. Something told me. 
 Now, I don't know what it was that told me; I don't 
 want you to ask me what told me; because I don't 
 know. All I know is that something told me that Har- 
 kinson was praying to God to save him from something 
 
 "Have pity on me, oh Lord save me don't let this 
 happen to me, oh, Lord " 
 
 Yeah, that's what I heard coming from between those 
 cracks in the logs of that old ramshackle log house. 
 And I want to tell you right here that no matter if it 
 was Harkinson or somebody else, my heart went out to 
 him yeah, oh, boy, I felt sorry for that fella, whoever 
 he was, who was saying over and over to himself, "Oh 
 Lord, save me from this." 
 
 "For God's sake, Hawkins," said Shadow Loomis. 
 He gripped my arm. "For God's sake, Hawkins," he 
 repeated. Then, without another word, he turned and 
 ran from this spot. And I followed him. Yeah, coward- 
 like I followed Shadow, running as fast as we could, and 
 
 319
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 we did not stop till we pulled up at our secret headquarters, 
 the old houseboat that formerly belonged to the Skinny 
 Guy, Link Lambert and his pop, in the backwater pool, 
 "the lily pond." 
 
 For half an hour we sat there, silent, never looking 
 at one another. I let myself rest. Believe me, I didn't 
 know what to do. I knew that here was our chance 
 to capture Harkinson, one of the worst Red Runners, one 
 that the Sheriff would be glad to get, and yet something 
 about his crying and whimpering and praying in that 
 old log house made me afraid to touch my hand upon it. 
 
 "Shadow," I said, "we ought to have taken him." 
 
 "You do it," said Shadow. "I don't want to touch 
 him. I don't want anything to do with the fella who 
 asked God to have mercy" 
 
 "No," I said. And then we both were silent. 
 
 How long we would have sat there, in that old reminder 
 of our Skinny Guy, no one knows. The next thing I 
 remember is Jerry Moore's voice: 
 
 "That's Hawkins's footprints, take my word. No- 
 body but the Seckatary wears that square-toe shoe." 
 
 Then a full minute of silence. I could barely hear 
 the slush of their feet through the snow. 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 It was Jerry, standing in the doorway of the house- 
 boat. Behind him were Dick Ferris, Lew Hunter, Roy 
 Dobel, Johnny McLarren, Bill Darby, and Perry Stokes. 
 They had skated down the frozen river. 
 
 "So here y'are," continued Jerry, "so here y'are, 
 Hawkins, and you, Shadow Loomis. What's the idea 
 running away from us? Think we couldn't trace the 
 tracks o' this homemade ice boat? Listen, what's 
 the game down here? Has Pelham fellas steered you 
 wrong?" 
 
 320
 
 THE PRAYER IN THE LOG HOUSE 
 
 "Steered us wrong?" I interrupted; "steered us 
 wrong Jerry, you go to the other end of the island 
 the block house " 
 
 "A Red Runner's there, most likely," said Jerry, 
 "else you fellas wouldn't a' come down. Now, listen 
 here, Hawkins, if there's a red- jacket in that log bouse, 
 we're gon'a smoke him out, see? Makes no difference 
 what you think no matter if you are Seckatary 
 if it's a Red Runner he goes to the Sheriff and the cala- 
 boose no soft hearties for me, eh, Dick?" 
 
 "I'm Captain," said Dick, "and if there's a Red 
 Runner hereabouts, he's got to be taken alive to the 
 Sheriff." 
 
 "Alive?" I said, "all right then. Dick, you lead. 
 We will come with you." 
 
 Honestly, I didn't think we would take that Red 
 Runner alive. I didn't think it was Harkinson. The 
 voice that Shadow and I heard did not sound like the 
 voice of Harkinson. It had been so changed. I thought 
 then 
 
 "Who's in there?" yelled Dick Ferris, as we stood be- 
 fore the log house. 
 
 No answer. Only the whimpering only the croon- 
 ing sound only that cry-baby voice 
 
 "Oh, God, have mercy save me from this, save me 
 from this " 
 
 Dick and Jerry stood and talked together before the 
 log-house door. As we waited, there came the sound of 
 metal against the ice we turned and saw a skating 
 figure leap from the ice to the bank it was Androfski 
 you could not mistake that beak of a nose under which 
 hung a half-moon smile 
 
 He held up his hand he could not talk Androfski 
 the Silent. 
 
 21 321
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 We all fell aside. We saw him kick one skate from 
 his foot. The next instant he had sprung to the door, 
 limping on one free foot and one foot that still held a 
 skate 
 
 He opened the door of the log house. He stepped in- 
 side for a moment; then came out again, and, leaning 
 upon his arm was Harkinson, staring straight at us, 
 but the steely glitter was gone from his eyes. 
 
 "He is blind!" 
 
 I saw the words form on the lips of Androfski the 
 Silent. Yeah, I had been trained to watch the lips of 
 Androfski now he was saying the awfullest thing I had 
 ever heard him say in his silent way that Harkinson, 
 the hypnotizer, no longer could see. At once I knew, 
 what those words meant that we had heard coming 
 from behind the logs of the old stockade. Harkinson 
 was blind. He could no longer use those steely eyes of 
 his 
 
 I saw Jerry Moore step forward. I saw Dick Ferris 
 lift his hand 
 
 "Seckatary Hawkins," said Dick, "we have captured 
 Harkinson '* 
 
 "I'll have nothing to do with it," I cried; "I'll not 
 touch him, Dick Ferris, not for you nor any of the 
 boys" 
 
 Androfski was holding up his hand. I watched his 
 lips. 
 
 "He cannot see. Allow me to take him 
 back" 
 
 "Take him back, Androfski," I said, patting him on 
 the back, "and take care of him." 
 
 "Look here, look here," broke in Jerry Moore, 
 "you think you're mighty smart, Hawkins, but we got 
 
 322
 
 323
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 a word to say in this. Nobody is gonna take this Har- 
 kinson back but us, see? And we will take him back to 
 the Sheriff, we will. That's where he belongs. What've 
 you got to say to that, Androfski?" 
 
 Neither Androfski nor Harkhison made a sound. 
 
 "Just one moment!" 
 
 A new voice had rung in. A new figure stepped into 
 the half circle. It was the Rolling Stone, John Loomis. 
 
 "Fair play," he cried; "Shame on you fellas who don't 
 give fair play. I wartf to see the first guy who won't 
 let these two red birds pass the line." 
 
 How quick Jerry Moore fell back! How quick the 
 others gave room! 
 
 "This way !" It was Shadow's own voice saying that. 
 And leading Androfski and Harkinson to his own ice 
 skooter 
 
 We took them up to our clubhouse. Yeah, Harkin- 
 son, blind Harkinson, lay in our clubhouse at last a 
 prisoner, if you want to call him that, but none of us 
 fellas thought so. No. We wanted him to get his eye- 
 sight back. That's all. Makes no difference what he was, 
 or what he did to us, now he was a blind boy something 
 always was wrong with his eyes, that's what Doc Waters 
 said, and it was this that made us always think he was a 
 hypnotizer. It was the Rolling Stone who insisted on 
 taking him to our clubhouse until something could 
 be done for him. And Perry Stokes went and brought 
 Doc Waters down. There, on the Rolling Stone's pallet 
 on the floor beside my desk, we laid him down while Doc 
 Waters looked into his eyes those eyes that had often 
 made us shiver when they peeped at us but now no 
 longer could see. 
 
 When Doc had finished the examination, Androfski 
 was gone. None of the boys had seen him go. But 
 
 324
 
 THE PRAYER IN THE LOG HOUSE 
 
 Androfski had waited only until he knew his side partner 
 was safe then he had skooted out into his own freedom. 
 He knew the Sheriff wanted him and he was not going to 
 let anybody take him prisoner. Doc Waters promised 
 to see that Harkinson was taken care of, and the boys 
 all left, one by one, for their homes. 
 
 When we were left alone, Doc said to me: 
 
 "Hawkins, you've known this boy Harkinson for a 
 long time?" 
 
 "Yes, Doc," I said, "ever since last summer; I met 
 him when I came home from Cuba." 
 
 "And he always had these what you call hypno- 
 tizing eyes?" 
 
 "Yes, Doc, that's what made us boys so afraid of 
 him." 
 
 Doc shook his head. 
 
 "Poor fella," he said; "and he was growing blind 
 all the time. I never saw a case like it in my whole life." 
 
 Rolling Stone John stepped up. 
 
 "I can look after him a while, doctor," he said; 
 "if you want to go back " 
 
 "Yes, yes," said Doc; "you let him stay here until 
 tonight. He must go to the hospital at once. I will see 
 to that. To-night you boys bring him to my office." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 325
 
 XXXII 
 
 The Roundup 
 
 HARKINSON was gone. Doc Waters had got 
 a permit for him in one of the finest hospitals 
 in Water-town. He was stone blind. For a 
 long time his eyes had been failing him, Doc said, and 
 that steely glitter which had so many times made us 
 believe he was a hypnotizer was only the change that 
 was making his sight dimmer and dimmer, until at last 
 the light went out altogether. Harkinson knew, those 
 last few days, that he was going blind. And Jude, the 
 fifth in line, told him only God could save him from 
 being blind, and Harkinson old rough-and-ready 
 Harkinson began to pray night and day to God to 
 save him from blindness. Harkinson, who hardly knew 
 how to pray, began to pray Oh ! I'll never forget how 
 I heard him calling to God that day when we had him 
 cornered in the log cabin. 
 
 But Jude the Fifth had disappeared. Androfski 
 had disappeared. No longer could they dare to hang 
 around our neighborhood. For when the split came be- 
 tween Long Tom and Harkinson, Jude the Fifth and 
 Androfski the Silent had stuck to Harkinson, along with 
 three others. But the three others had left Harkinson 
 in the lurch when they found he was going blind no 
 blind leader for them. No, sir. They had run back to 
 join Long Tom's bunch again. So had Androfski. But 
 when Jude came and told Androfski that Harkinson had 
 really gone blind, and was left alone in the blockhouse 
 Androfski had come to give his old side partner the last 
 help he could give. And when he was sure that Harkin- 
 
 326
 
 THE ROUNDUP 
 
 son would be taken care of, Androfski had disappeared. 
 So had Jude. No more did we see of either of them, 
 although Shadow Loomis looked for a long time for 
 the Silent One, to settle that long-standing quarrel that 
 they had between them. But it seemed as though it 
 should not be settled. 
 
 Most of this we learned through Perry Stokes, 
 who had gone with Doc Waters when they took 
 Harkinson to the hospital. Perry had talked to Har- 
 kinson, and had learned all these things from him. 
 Harkinson was a different boy, said Perry. In that land 
 of everlasting night, Harkinson lay back upon his pillow 
 and thought about old times, times when he had his sight, 
 and when he made every boy afraid to look him in the 
 eye; when he had been the leader of a large number of 
 redcoats, and shared honors with Long Tom himself. 
 But of the quarrel which caused the split-up in the Red 
 Runners, Harkinson never spoke. One thing, at least, 
 you must say of Harkinson; he was true blue to his part- 
 ners, and he never squealed. No matter what you might 
 say about the Red Runners, you will have to admit that 
 not a single one of 'em ever squealed on their gang. 
 
 And, then, one night I'll never forget it it was on 
 January 27, Doc Waters came for me. I was at home, 
 doing my lessons for the next day, when Doc came. 
 My mother opened the door for him. 
 
 "If you won't mind, Mrs. Hawkins," he said, "I'd 
 like to have the Seckatary go along with me to-night 
 I've got to take a run to Watertown." 
 
 "Certainly, doctor," said my mother, "I like to 
 have him go with you whenever you want him I 
 hope he will not make you too much trouble " 
 
 "It's a pleasure, Mrs. Hawkins," said Doc (Doc 
 always tried to say things like that so I would hear it; 
 
 327
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 he was a great kidder). "I'd rather have the Seckatary 
 along with me than any boy in town." 
 
 When I was seated beside Doc in his little machine, 
 and we were making thirty miles an hour on the road to 
 Watertown, I said: 
 
 "What's the idea? Why did you come for me?" 
 
 "I got a request," he answered; "I was asked to bring 
 you. Wait, you'll understand." 
 
 Yeah, I understood. I seemed to know that he 
 would take me to that hospital in which lay the fellow 
 who one time was the only boy I was afraid to meet. 
 Harkinson lay back upon a little white cot 
 
 "You is it you, Hawkins boy?" he asked, as I 
 walked up to his bed. His voice sounded strange and 
 low. His hand barely lifted. 
 
 "It's me, Harkinson," I said; and I tried to make my 
 voice sound friendly; "it's me, old-timer, I'm glad to 
 see you." 
 
 "I'm glad you come they told me you would come 
 sorry I can't see your old face again but it's all over, 
 that is. Wait." 
 
 He dropped my hand, and laid his own upon his 
 forehead. I saw a look of pain pass over his pale face. 
 What a change in that face, thought I. Once I had said 
 Harkinson's face was the hardest, toughest face I had 
 ever seen. Now it was all changed ; there was a softened 
 look about his eyes; his lips seemed thin and pale 
 
 "They won't tell me the truth, Hawkins," he said, 
 "they say I will get well and see again. But I know 
 I ain't long for this world no more; I'm going down a 
 longer river than I ever paddled before, Hawkins, and 
 I ain't goin' to wear no red coat no 'more feel here 
 
 He pulled my hand down and placed it on his breast. 
 328
 
 THE ROUNDUP 
 
 Under those coverlets I could feel the loud, fast thumping 
 of his heart. It startled me. 
 
 "Heart going too fast," said Harkinson, "can't 
 stand it no longer without my eyes, y'know. Got to 
 see or can't live. I won't be long." 
 
 "Nonsense," I said, "you mustn't talk like that, 
 Harkinson. Doc will see you through. It's going to 
 take time, that's all." 
 
 There was a grim smile upon his face, but he shook his 
 head. 
 
 "It's over," he said; "I know; I've called my redcoats 
 for the last time, Hawkins. I only want to tell you yet 
 that I am sorry for what I did to you; you been a square 
 an' honest boy with me, and I treated you raw. I'm 
 sorry for that before I go, I want to tell you. You be- 
 lieve me?" 
 
 "You've never done anything to me, old-timer," I 
 said, bending down; "you've been all right; it's all 
 fair when you're fighting ' 
 
 "I used to think that," broke in the blind boy; 
 "but, no, it ain't so, Hawkins. You find that out 
 when you git time to think about it. I've been thinking 
 about it ever since the long night time came and it's 
 dark where I am, no daytime, no light, Hawkins " 
 
 "But it w T on't be for long, Harkinson," I said; "Doc 
 Waters will fix you up all right, buddy " 
 
 "Just one thing," said Harkinson, "I want you to 
 have something, Hawkins. I know I ain't goin' to last 
 I want you to remember me always when I'm gone " 
 
 "Don't talk like that, Harkinson," I said, "you're 
 going to get well, and see again, in a little while. Don't 
 you know good old Doc Waters can do things?" 
 
 "He can't fix this heart o' mine," said Harkinson, 
 329
 
 with a smile; "it's broke beating faster that a wood- 
 pecker can peck and harder than a sledge hammer 
 but here, Hawkins, this is for you to remember me by." 
 
 He reached a weak hand under his pillow and pulled 
 out the old brass horn the old relic of Stoner's Boy 
 the old trumpet whose brassy notes had sounded a 
 summons and a warning many a time around our old 
 camping ground. 
 
 "To remember me, Hawkins," he said, "I don't care 
 who forgets but you remember me always, will you?" 
 
 I took the horn. Yeah, I took it, but I could not 
 thank him for it. I could not say a word. I had to 
 turn away. For something about that poor old Harkin- 
 son lying there made tears come into my eyes, and I 
 walked away and wiped my eyes on my sleeve. I stood 
 there, a long time, until Doc came tip-toeing over and 
 said, "He is asleep; come on, let's get back home." 
 
 Our clubhouse still was watched by Long Tom's 
 Red Runners. They didn't seem to mind Harkinson's 
 misfortune. I don't think they cared one bit that he 
 was not with them any more. Jerry Moore came hi one 
 night following and told us that he had been caught by 
 two of them, but that he had broken away from them. 
 Another night Lew Hunter was playing the organ all 
 alone in the clubhouse, and they had scared him at the 
 windows. 
 
 It was time to put a stop to it. So we held a council 
 meeting in the clubhouse after school one day, and tried 
 to figure out a plan to catch them. Nothing came of 
 it, however. One plan after another was thrown aside, 
 because it wouldn't do. After the meeting broke up, I 
 sat alone in my little office and thought it over. Sud- 
 enly an idea came into my head. 
 
 330
 
 THE ROUNDUP 
 
 That evening I had all my plans laid. I hurried down 
 to the clubhouse right after supper. None of the boys 
 had come yet. Presently I heard voices outside. It 
 was Lew Hunter and the preacher, with whom he lived. 
 They came in together. 
 
 "Ah, Seckatary Hawkins," said the preacher, for 
 he was a good friend of us boys; "I hope you have found 
 it in your heart to forgive poor Harkinson." 
 
 "Forgive him? What for?" I asked. 
 
 "He's doing very poorly," said the preacher; "Dr. 
 Waters has asked me to go up and console him a bit, 
 and I'm on my way to Watertown now. May I take a 
 message of good cheer from you? It will do him much 
 good to know it comes from you; the doctor tells me he 
 speaks of you every day." 
 
 "Tell him," I said, "tell him that Seckatary Hawkins 
 wishes him all that is good and hopes only that the 
 daylight will soon come to him as it does to us every 
 morning he will see the sunrise." 
 
 "Ah, that is nice, nice," said the preacher. "Good- 
 bye." 
 
 We waited until his step died out in the snow. Then 
 I said to Lew: 
 
 "Did you take my message to the Sheriff?" 
 
 "Yes, everything is fixed. They are waiting now 
 outside the second row of trees. They thought you were 
 crazy to ask them to do it." 
 
 "Oh, well, maybe I am," I said, "I ain't sure that it 
 will do any good. But I've got a scheme. It might 
 work." 
 
 "And I told the other boys to wait on the main road 
 till they heard something. They asked me what that 
 'something' would be, so they would know. But 1 told 
 them just as you ordered me." 
 
 331
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 "That's right, Lew. They'll know well enough, as 
 soon as they hear it. Suppose you play a tune on the 
 organ, so that somebody knows we are here." 
 
 Lew played. The same old thing he always played 
 when you asked him to play what he liked. "Lead, 
 Kindly Light, Amid th' Encircling Gloom." 
 
 How it sounded to me then. Ah, boy! I heard it 
 many times, played in the same way by that same Lew 
 Hunter, and every time it seemed to mean something 
 different to me. To me always it was a prayer a prayer 
 to God Almighty to lead us the right way, no matter where 
 we were bound for; a prayer to take us on and see us 
 through. 
 
 And what it meant for the Red Runners that night? 
 "Lead, Kindly Light" rang for those Red Runners, too, 
 that night. For I know that from that night on, nine 
 out of every ten of those redcoats changed from their 
 lawless ways to ways that would lead them on to better 
 boys and better men when they grew up. Yeah, "Lead, 
 Kindly Light" was the right song; Lew Hunter knew 
 what he was playing. Like a flame on the tip of a candle 
 which draws insects in the night, that song drew those 
 Red Runners from out their hiding places I could see 
 out of the corner of my eye once in a while a face appear 
 for a moment at this window at that window only 
 to disappear again into the gloom. If I could only draw 
 them inside, as I planned if they would only forget 
 that Harkinson 
 
 "Now!" I said "it's time, Lew. Stop the organ a 
 minute." 
 
 He snatched his fingers off the ivory keys. At the 
 same time I whipped out of my pocket the old brass 
 horn that Harkinson had given me snatched it out and 
 put it to my lips and blew two shrill blasts upon it; 
 
 332
 
 333
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 then, as Lew Hunter ran to the door and threw it open 
 wide, I blew once again two hearty calls 
 
 They came. Golly Moses, how they came! And 
 if you think their crowd was made smaller by the split-up 
 between Harkinson and Long Tom, you're mistaken. 
 They came in, I tell you, like a swarm of bees they 
 had been hanging around outside, waiting for something 
 to happen, and when they heard the call of that old 
 brass horn well, it was only force of habit, you might 
 say, but they trooped in. In a minute they had realized 
 their blunder Long Tom's voice reminded them that 
 Harkinson and his horn no longer belonged to them 
 but it was too late. Long Tom screamed his orders 
 but what use? The Sheriff and his deputies were on the 
 porch, at every window there was no escape. 
 
 "Long Tom," droned the Sheriff, "you and your 
 friends will come with me." 
 
 The Red Runners were rounded up. 
 
 We had a little celebration in the clubhouse after 
 they were taken away. All of our boys had heard the 
 horn, and knew that that was the "something" I had 
 told them they would hear before they were to come to 
 the clubhouse. As it was, they all arrived in time to 
 see the Sheriff and his men march the red gang away. 
 
 "Stand up and shout three cheers for your old Seck- 
 atary!" yelled Jerry Moore. 
 
 They jumped to their feet and gave me the three 
 loudest hurrahs I had ever heard. I laughed and bowed, 
 and held up the old brass horn. 
 
 "Don't cheer for me," I said, "give the credit to 
 this old brass horn and to the old hypnotizer who gave 
 it to me Harkinson." 
 
 334
 
 THE ROUNDUP 
 
 'Three cheers for Harkinson!" cried Jerry. 
 
 But there were no cheers. No. No cheers. For 
 he had no more than said that when the door opened and 
 the preacher walked slowly into our meeting room. 
 
 "Boys," he said in a low voice; then he stopped, 
 and took off his hat and looked at the floor; for a min- 
 ute he stood that way. Then he lifted his face and said : 
 
 "He won't want cheers rather your prayers. Har- 
 kinson your friend Harkinson died at seven o'clock 
 to-night." 
 
 For a moment there was a silence in which you could 
 have heard the breeze rustle in the evergreen cedars on 
 the river path. The next instant every boy had snatched 
 off his cap, and bowed his head. I wondered then, what 
 was going through their minds. But I knew it was sor- 
 row sympathy for the old-time leader regret that the 
 old hypnotizer could not have lived to see the time 
 when 
 
 Ah, but what's the use to talk about that? What's the 
 use to say it might have been when it can't be. You ask 
 me to write down here things that I can't figure out. I 
 don't want to think of Harkinson passing out like that. 
 God called him home. His eyes went blank and his 
 heart swelled up and broke from worrying over it, don't 
 tell me. I felt like crying myself when the preacher said 
 those soft-toned words 
 
 I sometimes sit in my little office and think about 
 that wonder how it was that all of us boys, who hated 
 Harkinson as any boy can hate another boy, felt so 
 sad about his passing out of this life into the Great 
 Dark Land that some fellows like the preacher call 
 the next world but I can't figure it out. I know that 
 the old brass horn will stay with me as long as I live, 
 
 335
 
 THE RED RUNNERS 
 
 and that I will always think of it, and the boy who gave 
 it to me, as among the dearest things I ever had to 
 think about. 
 
 "If you boys feel like you want to," the preacher 
 was saying, "let us all kneel right here, in the little club- 
 house where Harkinson so often stood, and pray for the 
 repose of his soul." 
 
 Which we did. 
 
 886
 
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