“We won’t cross any bridges till we come to them,” laughed Dick. “I’m willing to do my part, no matter where they put me. You see, Mr. Holwell had a little talk with me about a whole lot of things, and I sort of made him a promise—never mind what it was about.”
Leslie looked at his chum seriously and then went on to say:
“Mebbe I can give a pretty good guess what he said, Dick; but some other time you may take a notion to tell me. Mr. Holwell is a fine man, and if anybody can control the boys of Cliffwood, he ought to. But I’ve got an errand in town, so I’ll have to break away from you, expecting to see you at the house at eight sharp tomorrow morning. Then ho! for the shellbarks by the bushel, enough for a whole winter’s supply.”
“Don’t be in such a big hurry, Leslie,” urged Dick.
“What! have you got another dark secret to tell me?” demanded the other, laughingly.
Dick looked cautiously around him. Then he nodded his head.
“It’s a sure enough secret this time,” he observed, in a lowered voice. “Wait up a minute, because there’s Deacon Nocker coming along the street, and of all the people in Cliffwood he’s the last I’d want to have overhear what I’m going to tell you.”
Of course, this excited the curiosity of Leslie more than ever. He managed to hold his feelings in check while the grim old storekeeper walked past. Deacon Nocker gave the two boys one malicious look, and with a sneer on his thin face said:
“Hatching up some more of your tricks, I expect. But I give you plain warning that these scandalous goings-on are not to be tolerated any longer in a respectable town like Cliffwood. Better be going home and doing your chores. Loafing on street corners never gave any boy a lift in life; but it has helped many a lad to start to the penitentiary.”
Then the worthy deacon walked on with his head lifted proudly, as though he really believed he had fulfilled his duty as a Christian in warning the boys of the rocks upon which they were drifting, even though he had not stretched out a helping hand to assist them.