The Mark of the Knife

"I'm afraid I can't remember just which way I came. I was pretty excited and I ran down these streets as fast as I could and it was dark, and I didn't think much about remembering where I came."

"Well," said Mr. Stevens, "there's one thing we can do. We'll ask the officer over there on the street corner where the Chinese places are, and perhaps that will lead us somewhere."

"At any rate," said Teeny-bits, "it must be very near where we are now, because I know I came from this general direction and I covered about the same amount of ground that we have covered since we left the square."

In answer to their inquiry the police officer informed them that there were four Chinese establishments in the city – two laundries and two restaurants.

The laundries proved to be near the center of the town, one on Main Street, the other on Clyde Street. Mr. Stevens, and Teeny-bits looked both of these establishments over, but Teeny-bits quickly announced that neither of them could be the place they were seeking. They were small and both were across the electric car tracks from Stanley Square. Teeny-bits remembered that on the night of his escape he had crossed no tracks until he reached the square.

The first of the restaurants which they visited backed up to the Greensboro River, a shallow stream which wound through the town. There was an alley in the rear which to Teeny-bits looked somewhat like the one down which he had hastened while the two Chinese had come pattering after him, but he did not remember that he had seen any water. They went inside, however, and questioned the wrinkled yellow man who, thinking them customers, came to take their order. He answered them in pidgin English, and Teeny-bits became convinced, after they had looked about the place, that this was not the scene of his imprisonment on Friday night.

They then went to the Oriental Eating Palace of Chuan Kai, but at Mr. Stevens' suggestion, before entering the restaurant, made a complete circuit of the building and examined its outward appearance. In the rear there was an alley.

"This looks like it!" declared Teeny-bits, and then he added: "But I couldn't swear that it's the one."

"Why don't we go up those stairs there and see what we find," said Mr. Stevens. "It's trespassing, I suppose, but all in a justifiable cause."

Quickly they let themselves in the rear door and began to mount the steps.

"That night," said Teeny-bits, "I remember that I came down two flights; this might be the place, but of course I didn't stop much to look around."

At the top of the second flight Mr. Stevens and Teeny-bits came to a narrow hallway from which opened two doors. Mr. Stevens knocked softly on the one at the right and, receiving no answer, pushed it open. They had expected to find no one in the room; to their surprise, a Chinese who had been lying on a "double-decker" bunk jumped down to the floor and stood looking at them with astonishment and fear in his face.

"This isn't the room, and I don't think I ever saw this fellow before," Teeny-bits whispered to the English master.

"We're looking for two Chinese who were in one of these rooms last Friday night," said Mr. Stevens to the Oriental. "Perhaps they're in the other room."

It was evident that the Chinaman who confronted them with startled eyes did not understand much English. He made no reply and continued to stare at them as if he thought it inexplainable that two white men should suddenly invade his sleeping quarters.

Mr. Stevens backed out of the room and somewhat to Teeny-bits' surprise immediately tried the other door. It opened upon a small square room, empty except for a table and four chairs which were arranged as if for a game of cards. Teeny-bits had expected to see a mattress lying on the floor, but nothing of the sort greeted his eyes and no one was in the room.

"This looks like the place, but somehow it seems changed," he said to Mr. Stevens.

At that moment they both heard a cry in Chinese and, as they whirled round, an answer came from the floor below and the sound of feet pattering down the stairway.

"There!" exclaimed Mr. Stevens, "I'm afraid your friends are running away. That fellow in the other room has given the alarm. Let's go down to the restaurant quickly and see what we can find."

Chuan Kai met the two with an inscrutable countenance. There was something about his eyes, however, that suggested to Teeny-bits and Mr. Stevens that he was not wholly unprepared for their call.

"Last Friday night," said the English master, "this young man was kept for several hours in one of the rooms upstairs. We should like to talk to the two Chinese who were kind enough to permit him to escape."

"No unne'stan'," said Chuan Kai, wrinkling his lips in a manner that showed his yellow teeth.

Mr. Stevens was patient. He repeated his request, laid his hand on Teeny-bits' shoulder, pointed toward the ceiling as he mentioned the room above and then held up two fingers as he spoke of the Chinese who had been present when Teeny-bits escaped. The only answer was a puzzled frown on Chuan Kai's wrinkled features; either the old man was bewildered by the request of his visitors or he was a good actor. Suddenly Mr. Stevens decided the latter, for he spoke rapidly and with considerable force:

"I think you understand English all right. Now tell me, where are those two men of yours? If you will let me see them quickly perhaps we can agree not to trouble you further. Now then, where are they?"

Chuan Kai smiled with such ingenuousness as he could summon. "Ai," he said. "You like to see my boys?"

He turned away from them quickly and cried out something in Chinese, at the same time throwing back a door which led to the kitchen.

"Come, look, see," he said as he turned back to Teeny-bits and Mr. Stevens. "You like see all boys."

In the kitchen which was disclosed to view were four Chinese in loose-sleeved shirts and aprons. They were engaged in cutting up meat and in mixing food over the fire. Among them Teeny-bits did not recognize either one of the Orientals who had acted so strangely at the sight of the knife mark.

"I don't think they're here," he said to Mr. Stevens. "As I remember it they were bigger than these fellows."

The English master turned to Chuan Kai and said, "We don't intend to cause you any trouble. This young friend of mine has a mark on his shoulder which looks like a knife. Two of your men acted strangely when they saw it. What can you tell me about it? Don't be afraid to speak up."

Chuan Kai and his four employees looked at their American visitors with every semblance of frank amazement and bewilderment.

"Well, we'll try one thing more," said Mr. Stevens. "Pull off your coat, Teeny-bits, and let them take a look at that mark."

Teeny-bits quickly threw off his coat and unbuttoned the soft collar of his shirt until he could pull back the linen and show the mark of the knife. The effect was more than the English master or Teeny-bits expected. The four Chinese, who had been observing in apparent astonishment this sudden performance on Teeny-bits' part, gazed at the mark and began to jabber among themselves in a manner that showed plainly enough their excitement and agitation. One of them even took a step nearer as if to obtain a clearer view. Chuan Kai, however, quickly brought their demonstration to an end. He exclaimed sharply in his singsong language and stepped toward them in a manner that had only one meaning, – a threat of violence. Instantly the four Chinese resumed their work over the meat and the kettles, and although they rolled their black eyes furtively toward Teeny-bits and the English master they said nothing more, nor could they be induced to show further sign of excitement.

Chuan Kai himself muttered in Chinese. Finally he smiled craftily, shrugged his shoulders and said to Mr. Stevens, "Where did boy get mark? These fellas (pointing to the four Chinese) think it's funny."

"Why do they think it's funny?" asked Mr. Stevens. But the Oriental had no answer to that and took refuge again in his assumed or actual unfamiliarity with English. For several minutes Mr. Stevens tried to get something further from the Chinamen but was unsuccessful and finally said to Teeny-bits who had buttoned his shirt and put on his coat:

"Well, I guess we've found out as much as we are able to from these fellows. Let's be going."

Chuan Kai, following them out to the street, was obsequiously polite. He even gave them a little box of Chinese nuts and candied fruit and pressed it upon them when they at first refused to accept it.

The result of the visit had not been satisfactory. Teeny-bits had been unable to discover either of the Orientals who had held him prisoner. Perhaps, as Mr. Stevens had suggested, these two had escaped down the alley when the young Chinese whom they had encountered in the upper room gave his cry of warning. The only significant incident had been when the four Chinese had shown excitement on viewing the mark on Teeny-bits' back.

"Of course, we could swear out a warrant and have the police investigate this whole matter," said Mr. Stevens, "but I am afraid that that would get us nowhere, for as you say, it would be pretty difficult for you to identify those men and we couldn't even prove that it was at Chuan Kai's place that you were held prisoner. I guess the next thing for us to do is to wait for some word to come from Tracey Campbell."

But no word of explanation came. For a few days Tracey Campbell lay in a semiconscious condition; he then grew rapidly better and at the end of the week was removed to the Campbell home.

The leather dealer, who had been away on a business trip at the time of the Ridgley-Jefferson game, had, of course, been summoned back to Greensboro by telegram. Twice he came to Ridgley School for a conference with Doctor Wells. His attitude on the occasion of his first visit was one of indignation and arrogance. He indicated to the Head that Ridgley School was responsible for the whole tragic incident and that explanations were in order. When he learned that his son was under accusation and that there was evidence to give weight to the case, his attitude underwent somewhat of a change. He was still in a warlike mood, however, and left Doctor Wells with the promise of getting at the root of the whole matter and exonerating his son. On the occasion of his second visit, however, his attitude was quite different. He now wished to hush up the whole affair and treat the thing as an unfortunate incident which could not be too quickly forgotten. Tracey Campbell would not return to Ridgley School. As soon as he recovered sufficiently to travel his father intended to send him to Florida. From certain remarks that the leather dealer made, it was evident to Doctor Wells that Tracey had confessed his part in the theft of the trinkets and money. In regard to the charge of being implicated in the kidnapping of Teeny-bits, Mr. Campbell declared that nothing had been proved against his son and in his opinion it was doubtless "all a story made up by that young Teeny-bits fellow in order to curry favor and win popularity."

And so the matter was left as far as the Campbells were concerned, though it was said that Mrs. Campbell called Doctor Wells on the telephone and in her shrill voice denied vigorously that her son had acted in any manner unbecoming to "the son of a gentleman" and that for her part she thought that the school was a poor one and that she wished they wouldn't have such games as football "which work the boys up to excitement and get them into a dangerous state of mind." No one took the pains to ascertain whether Tracey Campbell was actually expelled from the school or had merely been withdrawn. At any rate Ridgley School would see him no more and as the days went on, it seemed less and less worth while to investigate the circumstances which preceded the Jefferson game by calling upon Tracey Campbell to confess further details.

The visit of Bassett Senior to the school – Blow-Hard Bassett as he was known in certain sections of the West – was sadder and more pathetic. He was a big man who dressed gaudily; even the tragedy had not served to remove wholly from his appearance the garish quality that proclaimed his type. To Mr. Stevens and Doctor Wells his visit was a startling exemplification of that old saying: "Like father, like son." When they talked to him it was as if they were talking to Whirlwind Bassett grown into a man of fifty. His visit was an unpleasant incident, – he showed so plainly that he had made a failure of his duties as a father and he groped so helplessly in his grief for the reason why his boy, whose body he would carry back to the West, had by his own acts brought an unhappy termination to his career.

"I never understood him," he said to Doctor Wells, "and I suppose I haven't been just the right kind of father for him. He didn't have any mother after he was four years old, and even when he was a little feller I never seemed to have much luck in making him mind me. He was always doing something to cause a commotion of some sort, like running away or getting into mix-ups – nothing very bad, you know, just such things as young fellers are apt to do. Sometimes I talked to him but it never made much impression."

As Blow-Hard Bassett looked out of Doctor Wells' shaded windows there was a hint of moisture in his eyes. "He was a determined little feller," he remarked after a moment, "and when he'd get a notion in his head it seemed like nothing would shake it out. I remember one time when a mongrel dog that they had out on a ranch where we were staying bit him on the wrist and the little chap – I guess he was only eight years old – came bawling to me and says, 'He bit me, Pa; you've got to kill him!'

"I said, 'Don't you see, it was your fault; the dog wouldn't of bit you if you hadn't been teasin' him,' but he kept on begging me to kill the mongrel and when I wouldn't do it, he decided to take matters into his own hands – and what do you suppose he done? He got a six-shooter out of a holster that one of the cowboys had left lyin' around an' come up behind that dog while he was sunnin' himself beside the ranch house and blowed out his brains! You see, he just made up his mind to settle with that dog, and nothing that any of us could say made a bit of difference. I always thought he was going to be a smart man, but I never could get close to him, so to speak. It was just as if he belonged to some other man, and now, of course, I can't help wishing that I had somehow got to understand him better."

There was not much that Doctor Wells could say after that except to extend his sympathy and to express the wish that it had been possible for others as well as the father to understand and help the youth who had come to his untimely end.

November, with each day crisper than the last, slipped into December and one morning the school awoke to find a thin sifting of snow over the brown grass of the campus and the bare branches of the maple trees. The Christmas vacation suddenly became the subject of conversation, and to Teeny-bits it seemed that every one had a plan that promised pleasure and recreation. He felt a little lonely at the thought of seeing all these friends of his depart for the holidays and leave him to spend the vacation alone in the quiet little village of Hamilton; and then one evening after the last mail, Neil Durant came into his room with two opened letters in his hand.

"A couple of invitations," he said. "It's all fixed up, Teeny-bits. You're going home for Christmas with me and we're going up to Norris' place in the mountains for some winter sports. You remember he spoke about getting together, after the game. I thought then that I'd like to renew old times and now he writes that he wants us to come up to his place, which is a wonder, way back in the hills where there's great skiing and snowshoeing."

To Teeny-bits it seemed suddenly as if he had been dreaming and hoping for a long time that this very thing would happen. It was a wonderful chance for a good time – but it was to prove more than that for the new captain of the Ridgley football team.

CHAPTER XIII

DAYS OF PLEASURE

The holiday migration from Ridgley School began six days before Christmas. Within a few hours the dormitories on the hill, which for months had resounded to the sound of voices, suddenly became silent and almost deserted; a few members of the school lingered and half a dozen of the faculty remained to spend a part or all of the vacation on the hill, but the great majority set forth to the four quarters of the wind. Among those who took the morning train on that day of great exodus were Neil Durant and Teeny-bits Holbrook. Within three hours, as the engine dragged its load westward, the Ridgleyites who at the start had crowded two cars had diminished in number to no more than a score. Every large station along the way claimed two or three and as they left they shouted back farewells and, loaded down with suitcases, went out to greet the friends and relatives who had come to meet them. They all had a word for Neil Durant and Teeny-bits – a special word it seemed – for there was no question that recent events had ripened the friendships and enhanced the popularity of these two members of "the best school in the world."

What happiness this was, Teeny-bits said to himself, to be going on a vacation with a fellow like Neil Durant and to have evidence at every moment of the friendship of such a "good crowd" as these fellows who were piling off the train and yelling out their good-bys. It all made him feel how much the last three months had brought into his life, how much he owed to the generosity of old Fennimore Ridgley who, though long ago laid to rest in his grave, had made it possible by his gift for Teeny-bits to come to Ridgley School.

At two o'clock the train pulled into the station of Dellsport where Teeny-bits and Neil said good-by to the half dozen of their schoolmates who were going farther west. They found waiting for them in a closed car Mrs. Durant and Sylvia Durant, Neil's sister, who immediately made Teeny-bits feel at ease by talking about school affairs. It had been a tremendous disappointment, it seemed, to both Mrs. Durant and Sylvia that they had been unable to come to the football game which had resulted so gloriously for Ridgley.

"If it hadn't been for the influenza," said Sylvia, "you would have heard some terrible shrieking on the day of that game – I know I'd have yelled loud enough so that every one would have heard me, because there was nothing in the world that I wanted quite so much as to have Ridgley come through. And when we got Neil's telegram maybe I didn't make the windows rattle! And mother almost yelled, too."

"We had a terrible quarrel over the newspaper the next day," said Mrs. Durant, "and I finally compromised by letting Sylvia read the whole story aloud, so we know just what happened and how one of you evened the score at the crucial moment and how the other fellow carried the ball across at the end of the game."

Almost before Teeny-bits realized it he was talking to these two pleasant persons as if he had known them all his life.

"I want you to act just as if this were your own home," said Mrs. Durant when she had led the way into the Durant house on Bennington Street. "I shall have to call you Teeny-bits – and I hope you won't mind – because Neil has always spoken of you that way in his letters and 'Mr. Holbrook' would sound formal, wouldn't it?"

"It would make me feel like a stick of wood," said Teeny-bits. "I don't think any one ever called me that in my life. I've just been Teeny-bits and I guess I always shall be."

But Teeny-bits Holbrook could not help contrasting this luxurious home where every reasonable comfort was in evidence, where there were fireplaces and soft rugs and rich paintings, with his own poor little home in Hamilton where Ma Holbrook did the work and with her own hands kept everything shining and clean.

For six days he lived a life that he had never lived before. They skated at the country club where the new ice had formed over an artificial pond, drove out in the car over frozen roads to Waygonack Inn for dinner and danced in the evening, went to the theater and "took in", as Sylvia called it, two or three parties that were important incidents of the holiday festivities at Dellsport. Everywhere they encountered jolly crowds of young fellows and girls.

"Every one seems to fall for you, Teeny-bits," said Neil to the new captain of the Ridgley team one day, "and they all call you by your nickname. If you stayed round here very long you'd have them all wearing a path to our front door."

"You know why it is," replied Teeny-bits, "it's because I'm a friend of yours."

"You're off the track," said Neil, "you're wild, man. You've got a way with you without knowing it, and as for the girls around here – oh, my heavens!"

"I never realized before what an awful kidder you are, but anyhow I know I'm having the time of my life," said Teeny-bits.

But in spite of the gayety, Teeny-bits thought often of Ma Holbrook and old Dad Holbrook who for the first time in many years were spending Christmas alone. Early in the week he went down to the Dellsport shops with Neil and selected presents which he thought would please them both.

On the day before Christmas, Major-General Durant, who had been attending a conference in Washington, came home. Teeny-bits had expected to stand in awe before this high official of the United States Army; he was therefore somewhat surprised to find him a genial, easy-to-talk-to man who took obvious delight in getting back to the freedom and informality of his home. He was full of stories and keenly interested in Ridgley School affairs. He himself was the most prominent alumnus of Ridgley and had many an incident to tell Neil and Teeny-bits about the days when he himself had played on the football team.

Christmas passed all too quickly. The Durants celebrated it in the good, old-fashioned manner with a big tree in the living room where a roaring fire of logs sent myriads of sparks leaping up the chimney. There were gifts from all the family to Teeny-bits and not the least appreciated of the presents that came to the visitor was a pair of fur-lined gloves from Ma and Pa Holbrook, just such a pair as they would select, – warm and substantial.

Sylvia Durant seemed to have a way of understanding what a person was thinking about. "Isn't that a good present!" she said. "They're so warm and comfortable feeling. They'll be just what you'll need for the winter sports up at the Norris place."

There was not so great a difference after all, Teeny-bits said to himself, between this Christmas and other Christmases; though the surroundings were different, the same genial, kindly spirit brooded over this luxurious home in Dellsport as always brooded at Christmas time over the humble home in Hamilton. He could shut his eyes and imagine that Ma and Pa Holbrook were in the room taking it all in and looking about them with beaming faces.

And then it was all over. On the morning after Christmas Major-General Durant went back to Washington and Mrs. Durant and Sylvia went with him to spend the rest of the holidays in the Capitol City.

Neil and Teeny-bits, having seen them off, prepared to start northward to the Norris place in the Whiteface Mountains. Teeny-bits felt none too glad to leave the Durant home; those six days had been filled to overflowing with happiness.

"You're coming again," Sylvia had said, and when Teeny-bits had replied, "I hope so," she had added, "Why, of course you are. Every one wants you to."

It was a four-hour run by train to Sheridan and an hour by sleigh to the Norris cabin at Pocassett, a little settlement of camps and cottages at the foot of the Whiteface range of mountains. In the early afternoon Neil and Teeny-bits had arrived in the snow-covered country and were receiving the greetings of their Jefferson School friends. Ted Norris had driven down to the station to meet them in a two-seated sleigh and had brought with him Whipple, whom both Teeny-bits and Neil remembered as the Jefferson punter.

"How do you fellows feel – pretty husky?" asked Norris as they were going back toward the mountains. "Some of the crowd up at the camp want to tramp over the range on snowshoes to-night if it's clear and I didn't know but what we'd join them."