Fred Fenton Marathon Runner: The Great Race at Riverport School

"You told her where you'd found it, said you thought it might be hers, just because you remembered her wearing something like that, didn't you?" asked Fred.

"Sure I did, and you just ought to have seen the scared look that came over her face," Bristles admitted. "She looked all around as if she was afraid that Corny'd be popping up, and then shook her head again and again, saying the pin wasn't hers. But, Fred, I know the poor little girl was telling a fib, because she was afraid if she owned up to the old piece of fake jewelry that she seemed to value so much, it might get somebody in a peck of trouble; and we know who that is, don't we?"

"We certainly do!" replied Fred; and he started to tell Bristles how Colon learned Corny Ludson had also been in Riverport that afternoon, acting in a suspicious manner.

CHAPTER XVII

LINING UP FOR THE TRIAL SPIN

The next morning opened cloudy, and rather warm for the season, much to the regret of all those fellows who had planned to take a spin over the twenty-five mile course laid out by the committee of arrangements.

So long as it did not rain, they were not to be kept from carrying out their ambitious plans. About eight o'clock Bristles and Colon, standing in front of the picket fence that divided the Carpenter garden from the road, saw Fred coming up the street.

"There's Fred," announced Colon, "and I hope Sid shows up soon, because we'd better be making an early start."

The way in which he looked up at the sky when saying this caused Bristles to instantly remark:

"Now, I reckon you're thinking it's going to rain on us before we get back home again. That left leg of yours that you got hurt once, is a regular old barometer, it seems, Colon."

"I don't know just how it comes," admitted the other, "but nearly every time it gets to itching and burning, we do have a spell of bad weather. Over at my house when they see me rubbing that leg, they begin to hunt up rubbers and raincoats to beat the band. It's gotten to be next door to infallible, dad says."

"All right, we'll forgive you if you do bring a dash of rain to-day," warned the other, "but be mighty careful how you let that leg get to itching toward the end of next week. Why, a rain'd play the dickens with all our plans for that glorious long run."

"You don't smash a thermometer every time it tells you how hot or cold it is, do you?" demanded Colon. "Then why d'ye want to blame things on my leg barometer? Just as if it had anything to do with the weather, 'cept to warn you ahead. Seems to me I ought to have a gold medal, instead of abuse. But here's Fred, and looking as if he was in apple pie trim for making the grand rounds to-day."

Of course all of them were in their running outfits, which consisted of trunks, sleeveless jerseys, shoes with spikes in the soles, and an excuse of a hat, though Bristles declined to wear anything on his mop of hair.

"All here but Sid, now, Fred," announced Colon, as the other joined them.

"We're a little ahead of the time that was set," remarked Fred, who seemed to be unusually sober it appeared to the sharp-eyed Colon, "and Sid will be along soon. I saw him heading for town, and he called across lots that he had a little errand, but would join us as soon as he could get back home, and pile into his running togs. Let's sit down somewhere, and take it easy, boys."

"A good idea, too," commented Bristles, "because, with a twenty-five mile run before us, we'll have all the standing on our feet we want. Chances are it'll be a pretty tired bunch of boys that'll turn up here some hours from now."

They found a place to settle down, and after a little talk about the weather, during which Colon was called upon to once more prophesy as to the chances for rain, he suddenly turned to Fred, to say:

"What's bothering you this morning, Fred?"

"Why do you ask me that?" returned the other, with a little smile.

"Well," Colon continued, "I'm used to watching faces, and it struck me when you came up, there was a worried look on your face. Hope you're not feeling anyway off?"

"Never felt in better condition in my life," Fred assured him. "One or two little bruises from that business of last night, but nothing to mention, and I don't expect to even think of them again."

"What happened, then?" asked Bristles.

"Only that our house was entered last night!" Fred observed, calmly.

The other boys gave expression to their astonishment in various exclamations.

"Burglarized, you mean, Fred?" cried Colon.

"Well, yes, I guess you might call it that, though it seems only one particular thing was carried off," Fred replied.

"You've got us guessing good and hard," said Bristles. "Was that your dad's pocketbook, his watch, the piano, or what could it be?"

"A hat," explained Fred.

Bristles and Colon fairly gasped upon hearing this.

"D'ye mean to tell us, Fred, that a desperate burglar would take all the chances of breaking into a house where he might get shot, just to steal a hat!" Colon demanded, as though suspecting they were being made the victims of a joke, although as a rule Fred seldom allowed himself to attempt anything of the kind.

"Sometimes even a hat may be a mighty important thing, if you stop to think of it, fellows," he informed them.

"Great smoke! Fred, do you mean that hat?" exclaimed Bristles, suddenly remembering something.

"The one we picked up on the battlefield!" added Colon, helplessly.

"That's the one I mean," they were told by the other, with a positive tone that could not be mistaken. "When I got home I tossed it onto the hall table. It wasn't there this morning, and I asked the girl, and everyone about the house if they'd seen it, but nobody had. And what was plain evidence of a robbery was the fact that a window was found open in the sitting-room, which my dad says he is sure he shut and locked before he went to bed."

"It was Cooney Jimmerson, of course?" suggested Colon.

"He's always been too clever with his fingers," Bristles gave as his opinion. "Maybe you remember, Colon, because it was before Fred's time here, how Cooney used to sneak into the coat-rooms at school, and go through the pockets of our reefers looking for pennies or tops or any old thing. He got in a peck of trouble on account of his sly tricks. If anybody could turn the catch of a window, and crawl in, I'd put it up to him."

"But Fred, how would he know you'd found his old hat?" asked Colon.

"We'll have to guess at that," he was told. "Look back, Colon, and you'll be likely to remember that several times we heard a rustling sound in that clump of bushes, while we were standing there talking, after finding the hat."

"Yes, and you thought it might be only a rabbit, or a chipmunk, or something like that," assented Colon, promptly.

"Now that the hat we were keeping as evidence has been stolen from my house," Fred continued, "I'm more than sure that must have been Cooney himself. He'd missed his hat, and afraid that we might find it, he came creeping back to get into that bunch of brush, where he could hear every word we spoke. So he knew I was keeping his hat to prove who was in the crowd that tackled us unawares."

"He just knew that if his hat were ever shown, he'd be in the soup," observed Colon, "so he thought it worth while to take all kinds of chances in the hope of copping it again. But let me tell you, the boy who'd open a window, and creep into a neighbor's house night times, is pretty close to the line. He's on the road to being a regular professional thief when he grows up, because it shows he likes that sort of thing."

"You know they say, 'as the twig's inclined, the tree is bent,'" Bristles told them, ponderously, "and we all can guess what'll become of Buck Lemington some day. He'll either make a striking figure in finance, or else head some big swindle that'll send him up for twenty years."

"But with the evidence gone," Colon remarked, "of course that ends the plan to show Cooney up at school?"

"Yes, and that was what he took such big chances for," Fred admitted. "We might tell the whole story, but without any positive evidence there would always seem to be a weak link in it. Some folks might even say we were prejudiced. They'd rather believe the attack came from one of the other towns. People always like to believe bad things about rival places rather than the home town. So we'd better shut down on that hat part of the story, and keep it quiet."

"Course it doesn't matter if we let it be known we were set upon, only we mustn't say we suspect any particular boys," Colon went on to remark, with a little confusion that told Fred he must have already been telling something about the encounter, though not mentioning names.

"Call that settled, then," Bristles added, "but it's too bad, when you had the case framed up against Cooney for fair and keeps. He'd have found himself the most unpopular fellow in Riverport, that's, right."

"The main thing with me," Fred explained, "was the hope that when everybody got to pointing the finger of scorn at Cooney, he'd feel so mean and small that, not wanting to stand for all the abuse alone, he'd up and confess that it was Buck who had started the racket. But as our plans have missed fire, we'll have to forget all about it. We've got our hands full as it is with this race, and getting ready to do our level best to win."

"I think I see Sid coming," Colon told them just then, and as he had an advantage over the rest by reason of his long neck, nobody disputed his word.

"We haven't forgotten anything, I hope?" Bristles observed, as they arose to their feet, and began to stretch themselves, boy fashion.

Fred carried a little pouch at his side that he did not believe would interfere at all with his running, though of course even this would be discarded when the great Marathon test was on. In this he carried matches, a small but reliable compass, and a few simple remedies that might come in handy in case any of them happened to be seized with colic or cramps from drinking water when overheated.

"Nothing that I know of, Bristles," Fred announced, as he touched this small pouch which, in the woods among old hunters would probably be called a "ditty-bag," and contain all manner of little odds and ends likely to be needed from time to time.

Sid was now running. The mere fact that he might be a little behind time would hardly seem to be sufficient excuse for his starting off in this way. Fred eyed the newcomer as he approached them. He fancied that Sid was bringing news of some kind.

Sid was breathing a little fast. That was to be expected in the start, though when he got his "second wind" he would very likely be good for a long, hard run.

"Give me five minutes, fellows, to rest up in, so we can all start even,"

Sid went on to say, "and besides, I've got something to tell you."

All of them dropped down again on the fresh green grass that the recent warm weather had caused to sprout forth luxuriantly in places.

"We're listening," Bristles told him, placing the cup of a hand back of his ear, as though he wanted to make sure of not losing a single word, while Colon assumed an eager attitude, with his eyes glued on Sid's flushed face.

"None of you happened to go down-town this morning, I reckon?" was the first thing Sid said, and as three heads were vehemently shaken in the negative, he continued, "Well, then it'll give you something of a surprise to know that it's happened again."

"Not a fire in the high school?" exclaimed Colon, for a serious event of this kind had taken place in the near past, that had created something of a panic in Riverport.

Sid shook his head in the negative.

"This was a robbery," he went on to say, in a way that gave the other three a severe shock; "just as when old Periwinkle was robbed. This time it was Mrs. Merriweather, the rich widow, who owns so many houses, and gets her rents in on the first. Somebody broke in there, and she never knew till this morning that her desk had been pried open, and three hundred dollars taken!"

CHAPTER XVIII

CAUGHT BY THE STORM

"That settles it, boys!" said Fred, compressing his lips.

"Some more of Corny's smart work, I guess you mean?" ventured Bristles.

"Well, we happen to know he was in town again yesterday afternoon, and putting things together, it looks bad for Corny," Fred explained.

"And I take it you mean to do what you said," Colon remarked; "that is, you promised us if there was another robbery, and that man was seen around, you'd tell everything to Chief Sutton and let him start a hunt to find Corny? Have I got it straight, Fred?"

"You certainly have, Colon, and that ought to be attended to before we start out on our run," Fred continued.

"Sure thing, because when a fellow has broken open a house and taken as much as three hundred dollars in cash, he's likely to get busy right away, and hide somewhere. That other time it was in a cave, and now Corny may have another secret den. It'll be up to the Chief to locate him."

"But I say, Fred, I hope now this won't interfere any with our plans to-day?" expostulated Bristles, while both Sid and Colon immediately looked anxious.

"Only to hold us back ten minutes or so," Fred told them.

"You won't bother going to town, and seeing the Chief personally, will you, Fred, when we've got a 'phone handy right here?" demanded the Carpenter boy, starting in the direction of the front gate close by. The others followed.

"I could answer all the questions he'll want to ask, over the wire just as well as if I were down at headquarters," Fred announced, at which an expression of relief was seen to sweep over three eager faces.

Fortunately the head of the local force was at his desk, engaged in his customary morning duties. Fred lost no time in getting down to facts, and from what the other boys, listening close by, heard him say, his astonishing communication must have created quite a lively panic at headquarters.

For some time after telling what they had learned when passing through that particular stretch of woods the week before, Fred was kept busy answering questions. He explained just why they had seen fit not to mention the matter before, and the reason that ban of secrecy was now removed.

When finally Fred hung up the receiver, and turned around with a smile on his face, as though perfectly satisfied with what he had done, not more than ten minutes had elapsed since their entering the house.

"Thank goodness that business is over with," he remarked, "and now it's up to the police to find the thief, – if they can."

"Huh! my opinion is that this same Corny is a heap too smart to be nabbed by a country cop," asserted Colon, and Chief Sutton, who was a very consequential little officer, would have felt terribly hurt could he have heard the disdainful laugh that went around at these scornful words.

"But let's be making a start!" begged Colon, anxious to be up and doing, for he had told the others he felt like a wild colt that morning, being fairly crazy to get to running.

In five minutes they were far beyond the town limits, running two and two along the road, and taking things fairly easily in the start.

A wise athlete never pushes a willing horse to begin with. After getting well warmed up, it is safe to increase the pace, always holding in the very best for the emergency that is apt to come in every race, some time or other.

Several miles were soon put behind them. Fred and Colon led, with the other two at their heels, and all running easily. Indeed, though it is not considered the best thing to do when running, the two leaders occasionally exchanged a few words, cutting their sentences down to as brief a span as possible. As a rule they maintained silence, each having his teeth set, and breathing through his nose as much as he possibly could.

These lads had learned all the known rules affecting long distance running, and they had also found more or less benefit from practicing them. Time did not enter into their calculations on this occasion, to any great extent at least. Of course they sprinted occasionally, and the minutes were noted at such times in an effort to learn a little about the probable period between certain points, where they figured on making their gains.

Possibly of the four Bristles showed more signs of being pressed than any of them. He had always been a short distance runner, like Felix Wagner of Mechanicsburg, but this year both boys hoped to break into the long distance class. Neither Bristles nor Sid happened to be built just right for such a task. On the other hand, Colon was long and rangy, and capable of tremendous speed, while Fred had the staying qualities so necessary in Marathon runners.

As a rule it will be found that the best long distance runners are the stocky, small men, like the wonderful Englishman, Shrubb, who astonished everybody in our own country by his great record some years back. While hardly reckoned small, Fred Fenton was in just that same class, for his muscles were as hard as they could possibly be, and he always kept himself in prime condition for work.

When, after a certain length of time, the four boys arrived at the birch trees by which Fred had marked the place where they could turn into the woods in attempting that short-cut, they had seen no other competitor on the road. No doubt at some time during the day all of those who meant to take part in the great run expected to cover the whole course, so as to get familiar with its peculiarities, but Fred and his mates were just as well pleased not to run across any of them thus early in the morning.

"Now, here's where we want to keep our eyes about us," remarked Fred, "so as to know the trail by heart. All of us but Sid have already been across to the other road, but on that account don't think you know it all. Observe everything around, and make a mental map of the course. It'll be a great help, I tell you."

"Point out the blazes you were speaking about, so I can watch for them," Sid asked them, as they stood there in a bunch, breathing hard, and cooling off, for it had been a warm run, and the atmosphere felt unusually heavy.

"There's one good thing," Fred went on to say, "we don't have to pay any attention to the other side of the trail. What I mean by that is this: lots of fellows can take notice of how a trail looks, and think they've got it down pat in their minds, but let them start back over it, and the landmarks will never be the same, so it's the easiest thing going to get lost on the return trip, where the blazes you made fail to show. It happens that we have to pass through here only one way."

"Great Caesar! wasn't that a growl of thunder?" cried Colon in dismay.

"Nothing more nor less than that," replied Fred, "and if thunder stands for anything, we're going to get that rain after all."

"Shucks! why couldn't the measly old storm have held off till we reached home?" Bristles wanted to know. "Here we are more'n ten miles away from town, and dressed in the airiest duds going. If we get soaked, we'll be shivering like fun."

"What's the answer, Fred? Tell us your opinion, and whether we'd better turn back, or try to push on through this neck of woodland and marsh?" When he put this question, Colon betrayed a trace of uneasiness, for the prospect was not a very pleasant one, no matter how they looked at it.

"There's no use turning back," the leader explained, "because the nearest house would be several miles away. I don't know just how it might be if we kept along the road here. But there's that tollgate and shanty on the other road; if we could only make that, we'd find shelter."

"Move we try," snapped Bristles, who was for action all the time, and liked to settle questions as Alexander is said to have cut the Gordian knot, decisive work, rather than sitting down to unravel problems.

There being not a single dissenting voice raised, the proposition was declared carried, and with that the four runners plunged immediately into the heavy undergrowth alongside the road.

Fred used his eyes and his memory to advantage. He knew that it would not do to make any mistake, and be lost in that jungle. With a storm coming on, the fierceness of which none of them could more than guess, the one thing they must make sure of above all others was to stick to the trail through thick and thin.

"Say, it's beginning to rain!" called out Bristles, from the far rear,

Sid being just in front of him, and Colon back of the leader's heels.

"What makes you say that?" asked Colon, who did not like to be told of so disagreeable a fact.

"Felt a drop on my face," Bristles explained, "and you could too, if you tried. There! that was another! It is starting in, boys, believe me!"

"He's right about that," Fred called back over his shoulder.

They could run only a small fraction of the time while threading the winding trail through the woods, so that hurrying was utterly out of the question. Thunder had been heard several additional times, and it seemed to be coming closer, if its increasing rumble counted for anything.

The drops began to fall faster and faster, and it became evident that in a few minutes they could expect a downpour.

"One good thing," said the cheerful Sid, "we won't be apt to ruin our best Sunday go-to-meeting glad rags by getting them soaked."

"Good for you, Sid!" called out Fred, "always seeing the silver lining of the cloud, no matter how dark it grows. Whew! that was close by," he added, as a loud crash of thunder sounded.

The rain fell in sheets for a short time; then the thunder died away, though there was no let-up to the fall of water.

"I think we're close to that poor farm," was the announcement Fred made, as he noticed several landmarks that he remembered well.

"Bless you, Fred, for saying that!" cried Colon, "because I'm shivering as if I'd drop to pieces. What do I see over there on the left right now?"

"It's the old rookery of a barn!" Fred told him. "Come on, we'll crawl in, for it's perfectly safe, now that the lightning has gone. By bunching together under the hay, we'll warm each other, more or less, while we wait for the rain to stop."

They saw no sign of anyone around, and as their necessity was very great, the four thinly clad and shivering runners crept under the hay, where they huddled together as Fred had advised.

CHAPTER XIX

THE BOY IN THE HAYMOW

"This is a whole lot better than out there in the downpour," Colon was heard to say, after they had been cowering in the hay for a short time, keeping as close to one another as they could so as to gain additional warmth.

"I should say it was," acknowledged Sid, "and Bristles here is a regular toaster in the bargain. He's as snug and warm as a stove. I'd like to come over and bunk with you, Bristles, some of the coldest winter nights."

"Any boy ought to be warm that's got a decent amount of flesh on him!" declared the one in question; "now, here's Colon who's so thin he hardly throws a shadow at noon; you couldn't expect him to do anything but shake."

"I'd hate to try to sleep in this old place nights," observed Colon, who had been thinking of other things, it seemed, than warmth. "Chances are she's plum full of rats and mice. If you listen real hard, you'll hear 'em carrying on right now, squealin' and squawkin' like."

Accordingly all of them now turned their attention to listening, this avowal on the part of Colon having aroused their curiosity.

"There!" cried the tall boy triumphantly, "didn't you get it that time; and wasn't that a plain rat gurgle, though? They c'n make the queerest noises, seems like, when they want to."

Fred started to move.

"That was no rat, boys," he remarked, in a tone of conviction.

"Wasn't, eh?" exclaimed Colon; "then what'd you call it, Fred?"

"A groan!" replied the other, immediately, at which the others began to sit up, and in various ways denote newly aroused interest.

"A groan, Fred!" echoed Sid.

"Do you mean a human groan?" demanded Bristles.

"There it is again," Fred told them; "if you pay attention, you'll soon say what I do – that it is a human groan."

"But whoever would be grunting like that in this old rookery, I'd like to know?" Bristles continued as though unable to fully grasp the idea.

"For my part," said Fred, bluntly, "I can't explain it. How about you,