“Oh, well, I don’t remember about it,” replied the other; “but then, what does that prove? I reckon they do yell when they get a lickin’, just the same as other kids; only we never happened to be there when the old lady’s slipper was getting in its work.”
But Frank saw the point Lanky was making, and appreciated it, too.
“I’ve been told,” the tall boy went on to say, “that gypsies bring up their children about like the old Injuns used to do. They learn when little kids never to show what they feel. Never heard of a red Injun boy weepin’; did you, Bones? Well, I guess nobody ever did; and gypsies, they’re about in the same class.”
“Well, and even if that’s right, Lanky, how do we know but what the old queen was givin’ the baby its lesson in keepin’ from cryin’? Sure, somethin’ shut the noise off right quick, I acknowledge that. But you just can’t make me believe in any silly yarn like a stolen child, and such stuff. Bah! next thing you’ll be lookin’ for a strawberry mark on my left arm, and tryin’ to make out I was changed in the cradle.”
But Lanky would not take any notice of these slurs. Frank could see that he was deeply impressed with the idea that the little dark-faced girl at the window of the big van had actually appealed to him for help in her childish way. And, knowing Lanky as he did, Frank felt positive that this would not be the last of the affair.
“He’ll go to their camp and make trouble sooner or later,” Frank was saying to himself, as the three runners neared the outskirts of Columbia; “and I suppose it’s up to me to stick to a chum through thick and thin. Perhaps he’ll be cured if only he can see the kid and talk with the mother. However, I’ve got to back Lanky up, no matter what wild scheme he may hatch in that brain of his. Because he’s a good fellow, and one of the best chums I’ve ever had.”
And so the run over the course of the Marathon race that was to be a leading feature of the athletic meet had been productive of several thrilling incidents that would not soon be forgotten by the three lads who were chiefly concerned.
CHAPTER V
ON THE CAMPUS GREEN
“Come, brace up, Lanky; ’tisn’t time for your funeral yet!”
“Why, we haven’t even had the preliminary trial races yet to see who’s going to be chosen to represent Columbia High in the big athletic meet, and here’s one of our best Marathon boys getting cold feet!”