THE DEFIANCE OF DOCK PHILLIPS
Remembering his promise, Tom called early for his chum. Carl lived in a pretty little cottage with his mother, and three other children. There was Angus, a little chap of five, Dot just three, and Elsie well turned seven.
Everybody liked to visit the Oskamp home, there was such an air of contentment and happiness about the entire family, despite the fact that they missed the presence of the one who had long been their guide and protector.
Tom was an especial favorite with the three youngsters, and they were always ready for a romp with him when he came to spend an evening with his chum. On this occasion however Tom did not get inside the house, for Carl was on the lookout and hurried out of the door as soon as he heard the gate shut.
“Hello! seems to me you’re in a big hurry to-night,” laughed Tom, when he saw the other slip out of the house and come down the path to meet him; “what’s all the rush about, Carl?”
“Why, you see I knew we meant to drop in at Dock Phillips’ place, and we wouldn’t want to be too late at the meeting if we happened to be held up there,” was the explanation Carl gave.
As they hurried along they talked together, and of course much of their conversation was connected with this visit to Dock. Carl seemed hopeful of good results, but to tell the truth Tom had his doubts.
In the first place he was a better judge of human nature than his chum, and he knew that the Phillips boy was stubborn, as well as vicious. If he were really guilty of having taken the paper he would be likely to deny it vehemently through thick and thin.
Knowing how apt Carl was to become discouraged if things went against him very strongly, Tom felt it was his duty to prepare the other for disappointment.
“Even if Dock denies that he ever saw the paper, we mustn’t let ourselves feel that this is the end of it, you know, Carl,” he started to say.
“I’ll be terribly disappointed, though, Tom,” admitted the other boy, with a sigh that told how he had lain awake much the last two nights trying to solve the puzzle that seemed to have no answer.
“Oh! that would only be natural,” his chum told him, cheerily; “but you know if we expect to become scouts we must figure out what they would do under the same conditions, and act that way.”
“That’s right, Tom,” agreed the other, bracing up. “Tell me what a true-blue scout would figure out as his line of duty in case he ran up against a snag when his whole heart was set on doing a thing.”
“He’d just remember that old motto we used to write in our copybooks at school, and take it to heart—‘if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again!’ And Carl, a scout would keep on trying right along. He’d set his teeth together as firm as iron and say he’d solve that problem, or know the reason why.”
“Tom, you know how to brace a weak-kneed fellow up all right.”
“But you’re not that kind, Carl. Only in this case there’s so much at stake you hardly do yourself justice. Remember how Grant went at it, and when he found that Lee met all of his tactics so cleverly he got his back up and said he’d fight it out on that line if it took all summer.”
“I see what you mean, and I’m game enough to say the same thing!” declared the other, with a ring of resolution in his voice.
Tom felt wonderfully relieved. He knew that Carl was capable of great things if only he succeeded in conquering his one little failing of seeing the gloomy side of passing events.
“Well, here we are at Dock’s place. It’s not a particularly lovely home for any fellow, is it? But then his father is known to be a hard drinker, and the mother finds it a tough job to keep her family in clothes and food. My folks feel sorry for her, and do what they can at times to help her out, though she’s too proud to ask for assistance.”
“Dock promises to be as bad as his father, I’m afraid, only so far he hasn’t taken to drinking,” remarked Carl.
“There’s some hope for him if only he keeps away from that,” ventured Tom. “But let’s knock on the door.”
No sooner had his knuckles come in contact with the panel than there was a furious barking within. Like most poor families the Phillips evidently kept several dogs; indeed, Dock had always been a great lover of animals, and liked to be strutting along the main street of Lenox with a string of dogs tagging at his heels.
A harsh voice was heard scolding the dogs, who relapsed into a grumbling and whining state of obedience.
“That’s Dock himself,” said Carl. “They mind him all right, you see. I hope he opens the door for us, and not his father.”
Just then the Phillips door was drawn back.
“Hello! Carl, and you too Tom; what’s up?”
Although Dock tried to say this with extreme indifference Tom saw that he was more or less startled at seeing them. In fact he immediately slipped outside, and closed the door behind him, as though he did not want his mother or any one else to overhear what might be said.
This action was positive evidence to the mind of Tom Chesney that Dock was guilty. His fears caused him to act without thinking. At the same time such evidence is never accepted in a court of law as circumstantial.
If either of the two boys had ever called at the Phillips’ house before it must have been on account of some errand, and at the request of their mothers. Dock might therefore be filled with curiosity to know why he had been honored with a visit.
“We dropped around to have a few words with you, Dock,” said Tom, who had made arrangements with his chum to manage the little interview, and had his plan of campaign all laid out in advance.
“Oh is that so?” sneered the other, now having had time to recover from the little shock which their sudden appearance had given him. “Well, here I am, so hurry up with what you’ve got to say. I came home late from the store and I’m not done my supper yet.”
“We’ll keep you only a few minutes at the most, Dock,” continued Tom; “you take the orders for groceries for the store, don’t you?”
“What, me? Why, course I do. Ain’t you seen me a-goin’ around with that bob-tail racer of Old Culpepper’s that could make a mile in seventeen minutes if you kept the whip a-waggin’ over his back? What if I do take orders; want to leave one with me for a commission, hey?”
Dock tried to throw all the sarcasm he could into his voice. He had an object no doubt in doing this; which was to impress these two boys as to his contempt for them and their errand, whatever it might be.
“We came here in hopes that you might solve a little bit of a mystery that’s bothering Carl’s mother, Dock,” continued Tom.
It was pretty dark out there, as the night had settled down, and not much light escaped from the windows close by; still Tom thought he saw the other boy move uneasily when he said this.
“That’s a funny thing for you to say, Tom Chesney,” grumbled the other. “How’d I be able to help Mrs. Oskamp out, tell me? I ain’t much of a hand to figger sums. That’s why I hated school, and run away, so I had to go to work. Now what you drivin’ at anyhow? Just tell me that.”
“Day before yesterday you called at Mrs. Oskamp’s house, Dock, as you do every morning, to take orders. You always make it about the same time, I understand, which is close to a quarter after nine.”
“Oh! I’m the promptest grocery clerk you ever saw!” boasted Dock, perhaps to hide a little confusion, and bolster up his nerve.
“After you had gone, or to make it positive at just a quarter to ten Mrs. Oskamp, who had dressed to go out, missed something that was on the table of the sitting room where you came for orders, and which she says she knows was there when you first arrived!”
“What’s this you’re a-sayin’, Tom Chesney? Want to make me out a thief, do you? Better go slow about that sort of talk, I tell you!” blustered Dock, aggressively. “Did Mrs. Oskamp see me take anything?”
“Oh! no, certainly not,” continued Tom; “but she had to go upstairs to get a bill she wanted you to take back to the store for correction, and left you alone in the room for a couple of minutes, that’s all.”
Tom was fishing for a “rise,” as he would have put it himself, being something of an angler; and he got it too. All unsuspicious of the trap that had been spread for his unwary feet Dock gave a harsh laugh, and went on to say angrily:
“You have got the greatest nerve I ever heard about, Tom Chesney, a-comin’ here right to my own home, and accusin’ me of bein’ a reg’lar thief. I wouldn’t take a thing for the world. Besides, what’d I want with a silly old scrap of paper, tell me?”
“Oh!” said Tom, quietly, “but I never mentioned what it was that was taken. How do you happen to know then it was a paper, Dock?”
Carl gave a gasp of admiration for the clever work of his chum. As for Dock, he hardly knew what to say immediately, though after he caught his breath he managed to mutter:
“Why, there was some papers on the table, I remembered, and I just guessed you must be meanin’ that. I tell you I ain’t seen no paper, and you can’t prove it on me either. I defy you to; so there! Now just tell me what you’re goin’ to do about it.”
He squared off as though he had a dim idea the two boys might want to lay hands on him and try to drag him around to the police headquarters. Of course this was the very last thing Tom and Carl would think of attempting. Strategy alone could influence Dock to confess to the truth.
“Oh! we don’t mean to touch you, Dock,” said Tom, hastily. “All we wanted to do was to ask you if you had seen that paper? If you denied it we knew we would have to try and find it another way; because sooner or later the truth is bound to come out, you understand. We’d rather have you on our side than against us, Dock.”
“But what would a feller like me want with your old paper?” snarled the boy, who may not have wholly liked the firm way in which Tom said that in the end the real facts must be made known, just as if they meant to get some one accustomed to spying on people to watch him from that time on.
“Nothing so far as it concerned you,” replied Tom; “but it was of considerable value to another. Your employer, Mr. Culpepper, might be willing to pay a considerable sum to get possession of that same paper, because it bore his signature.”
Dock gave a disagreeable laugh.
“What, that old miser pay any real money out? Huh, you don’t know him. He squeezes every dollar till it squeals before he lets it go. He’d bargain for the difference of five cents. Nobody could do business with him on the square. But I tell you I ain’t seen no paper; and that’s all I’m a-goin’ to say ’bout it. I’m meanin’ to let my dogs out for a little air soon’s I go back in the house, an’ I hopes that you’ll close the gate after you when you skip!”
There was a veiled threat in his words, and as he proceeded to terminate the interview by passing inside Tom and Carl thought it good policy to make use of the said gate, for they did not like the manner in which the dogs growled and whined on the other side of the barrier.
“He’s a tough one, all right,” Carl was saying as they walked on together, and heard the three dogs barking in the Phillips’ yard.
“Yes,” admitted his chum, “Dock’s a hard customer, but not so very smart when you come right down to it. He fell headlong into my trap, which is a very old one with lawyers who wish to coax a man to betray his guilt.”
“You mean about saying it was a paper that had been lost?” said Carl. “Yes, you fairly staggered him when you asked him how he knew that.”
“There’s no question about Dock’s being the guilty one,” asserted Tom. “He gave himself away the worst kind then. The only thing we have to do is to try and get the truth from him. Sooner or later it’s got to be found out.”
“Yes,” continued Carl, dejectedly, “but if he’s handed that paper over to Mr. Culpepper in the meantime, even if we could prove that Dock took it what good will that do? Once that paper is torn up, we could recover nothing.”
“But I’m sure he hasn’t made his bargain with old Amasa yet,” Tom ventured.
“Why do you believe that?” asked the other, eagerly.
“You heard what he said about the meanness of his employer, didn’t you?” was what Tom replied. “Well, it proves that although Dock sounded Mr. Culpepper about being in a position to give him the paper they haven’t arrived at any satisfactory conclusion.”
“You mean Dock wants more than Amasa is willing to pay, is that it, Tom?”
“It looks that way to me,” the other boy assented; “and that sort of deadlock may keep on indefinitely. You see, Dock is half afraid to carry the deal through, and will keep holding off. Perhaps he may even have put so high a price on his find, that every once in a while they’ll lock horns and call it a draw.”
“I hope you’ve hit on the right solution,” sighed Carl; “if it didn’t do anything else it would give us a chance to think up some other scheme for getting the truth out of Dock.”
“Leave it to me, Carl; sooner or later we’ll find a way to beat him at his own game. If he’s got that paper hidden away somewhere we may discover his secret by following him. There are other ways too. It’s going to come out all right in the end, you take my word for it!”