STARTING HANK RIGHT
"He's alive, all right!" was the announcement of Frank presently.
"I hear water close by. Hold on, and I'll get some," said Will hurrying away.
Even Jerry was desirous of helping as best he could. He took hold with Frank, and the insensible Hank was carried alongside the road, to where some grass grew, and offered a softer resting place.
Had it been a friend who was thus in need of succor, they could hardly have shown more energy in attending to his wants.
"He's coming to," said Bluff after Frank had sprinkled the scratched face with some of the cold water.
There was a deep sigh, then Frank saw that the fellow's eyes had opened, and were surveying him with a troubled stare.
"Feeling better, Hank?" he asked quietly.
"
Oh, I'm all right, I reckon. What brought you fellows here? Where am I, anyhow? Did I just drop off that motorcycle? No. I remember, now. Flimsy took the last cent I had while I lay in the road. The meanest skunk I ever met up with. If ever he crosses my path again I'll get even with the cur," he growled, sitting up and holding a hand to his head.
"What happened to you, Hank? Why were you lying in the road? Did you have a fight with that tramp printer?" asked Frank, suspecting the truth.
"Yes. I told him I was sick of keeping with him. He's a bad one, and some fine day he'll land in the stone jug. He scared me the way he talked. I started to tramp back home, and he kept nagging me all the way here. In the end he made me so mad I just tackled him. That was what he wanted. Why, he put me to sleep the easiest way you ever saw. I just remember him fumbling in my pockets before he hoofed it."
"Well, it was a lucky thing for you, Hank, after all. If you'd kept with that rascal you'd soon have been just like him. Did you say you meant to go back home now?"
"That's what I meant to do, but he's fixed it so I can't," muttered the other, grinding his teeth in fury.
"
How's that?" pursued Frank, believing there must be a story back of his words.
"He took the ten dollars I stole from my dad. I won't never dare face him and say I lost it. I thought I could put it back in the bureau drawer, and he'd never know. I'll have to foller that Flimsy, and make him give it back."
"You can't do that for he'd only laugh at you, and perhaps beat you again."
"The thief ought to be arrested," grumbled Bluff indignantly.
"That would blow the whole thing, you see, and dad he'd know I grabbed it. I'm gettin' all I ought to have, I reckon. P'raps I might earn that ten some way, and hand it over. If I could only get another job as chauffeur it'd be all right," Hank Brady was mumbling to himself dejectedly.
"Perhaps you can," said Frank quickly. "I remember, now, that our man had to go away suddenly the day before yesterday. Look here, Hank! Do you really mean to do the right thing now? Have you had your lesson pounded into you?"
"I sure have. Never again for me, I give you my word. I guess my folks has been worried some on my account, but they don't need to any more. I've reformed, I have. I'm goin' to walk a straight line after this."
The fellow spoke as though he meant it, and Frank believed he could detect the ring of sincerity in his voice.
"All right. Shake hands on that, Hank. Don't you forget it, that you'll find plenty of fellows willing to give you a lift, just as quickly as some others want to give you a drag down. It all depends on where the other chap is standing himself. You come and see me to-morrow, some time. I'm Frank Langdon, and my father is the president of the First National Bank."
"This is mighty white of you, fellers," muttered the other, apparently ashamed.
"You can never pay it back to us, Hank, but some time pass it along; hold out a helping hand to some other poor chap in trouble. I guess if you know how to run a car decently you will get the job, if I speak to my dad. Now, another thing—that ten dollars you wanted to put back, was it in one bill?"
"Two fives," replied Hank, catching his breath.
"Then perhaps we can fix it up. I've got one here. Jerry, can you help me out?" asked Frank, who believed in doing the whole thing, once he started.
"Just happen to have it, by good luck," replied the other cheerfully.
"
Say! that's too much, fellers—an' after I played that mean trick, too!"
"Don't worry about that. I'm not giving you this, Hank, only loaning it to you. You can pay it back out of your first month's salary. Here you are, and don't think for a minute that you're getting the best of all this. We're enjoying it, in our own way, more than you ever can. See you to-morrow, then. Good-night, Hank!"
They left the fellow standing there, quite dumb. He had tried to answer them as they rode off, but not a sound could he utter.
"Talk to me about the queer things that crop up with us, will you!" laughed Jerry as he kept close at Frank's heels. "Did you ever really hear the equal of that, now?"
"Oh, it's an old story. The only decent thing about it is the fact that of his own free will Hank was breaking away from his evil associations and heading back home, when he met with this last trouble. I say, Bluff!"
"Hello, Frank! What is it?" came from the rear, where the party addressed was following in the wake of his chums.
"How about Hank? Do you know if he ever played chauffeur half-way decent? I'd hate to risk the pater's neck with a greenhorn."
"Come to think of it, he used to run old Cra
gin's car for quite some time. Had an accident, and was discharged; but some people said Hank wasn't to blame; that it came about because the old man was too stingy to buy the right kind of tires, and always picked up job lots."
"Glad to hear it. He won't have that fault to find with the governor. Well, here we separate, fellows. To-morrow morning, at the boathouse, about eight, to lay our plans and arrange for the trip to the city."
With a cheery good-night the chums separated, and each headed for his home.
In the morning they once more came together, and for some hours there was an earnest talk, during which many ideas were put forward, and order gradually took the place of chaos.
A knock at the door took Frank thither, for he suspected who the visitor might prove to be, as he had left word at home to send Hank Brady there, if he called. Hank was now decently dressed, and his face did not look so very bad, though it bore a number of scratches.
"All right, Hank. I'm going with you to the bank. My father knows all about it, for I thought it best to start square, so that you need not fear about his finding out anything about your past," he said, shaking hands with the other.
"
And he don't give me the shake on that account?" asked Hank eagerly.
"Of course he doesn't. He even said that what we did was right, and that he could look back to a day in his boyhood when a kind word started him along the straight and narrow path. My dad's the right sort, Hank. Serve him decently, and you'll never want a better friend. But at the same time he hates deceit, and will not put up with a sneak. You've got the chance of your life to make good."
"And I'm going to make good, all right, or bust tryin'. I'll never get over the white way you fellers acted with me, never, if I live a hundred years!" said Hank in a broken voice.
Frank took him over to the bank, where Mr. Langdon was favorably impressed with his looks, and engaged him, after he had learned what he knew about the running of a car. Hank had worked in a garage for a year, and this knowledge was invaluable to him in his business as a chauffeur.
That afternoon Frank and Bluff started for the city, with a list of things they believed should be purchased before they went forth upon their journey. Bluff had in mind a wonderful hunting-knife, with an ivory handle, a picture of which he had seen in the catalogue of a sporting goods
house, and he was secretly determined to possess such a magnificent tool.
"The time might come when a fellow would have only his trusty blade between himself and death, and then you just bet he wants a good one. Think of a big grizzly trying to hug you! Where would your little knife be, then? You'd soon wish you had that Cuban machete that hangs on the wall of your father's den, Frank," he said, when the other expostulated with him about purchasing such a murderous-looking weapon.
And Bluff did buy it, too. All the way home he kept tabs on that package, and often, when Frank was not looking, he would go through certain gestures with it gripped in his hand, as though practicing against that day when the aforesaid grizzly and he would have their little heated argument for supremacy.
Jerry, too, either felt shocked at the enormous size of the wonderful hunting-knife, or else pretended to be. He shrugged his shoulders in that scornful way he had, and turned his back on the prize Bluff had drawn.
"What else could you expect of a man who goes after quail with a Gatling gun? Why, the poor innocent grizzly will faint dead away at sight of that cavalry sword. It gives me a cold chill just to look at it," he observed.
"Rank envy eating up your soul, that's all, my boy. Wait till you see me in action with that razor-edged tool. I'll have you all turning green with envy yet," he said, fondling the ivory-handled weapon ere he thrust it back into its sheath.
The days dragged along. Will counted them, and each night heaved a sigh of relief that they were a notch nearer the time of departure. Finally the last night arrived, and their coming tour was to be marked by a little gathering at the home of Frank, which was intended to be in the way of a send-off.