Ralph shook his head dubiously.
“I’m inclined to believe there’s going to be a change of some sort in our relations,” he hastened to say, “because of this queer absence on the part of Peleg. He isn’t the fellow to shirk work, and you know we saw him the other day over at the farmhouse where his sister works out. Then there was that talk about him receiving a mysterious letter; besides, we all noticed that he looked excited when we saw him in town; yes, and he even went into the Harris Arcade, where several lawyers have their offices, though I never knew they stayed there after nightfall. But perhaps Peleg had an appointment with one of them.”
By this time he had Rob deeply interested.
“It begins to look as if there might be another mystery connected with Peleg’s fortunes,” he observed, laughingly. “This time we can wait for the developments without being worried. I suppose in good time you’ll see the boy again, or at least have word from him?”
“That goes without saying,” Ralph agreed. “I’ve always found him honest and straightforward. Something he didn’t calculate on is holding him back; but he will show up in good time, believe me.”
It was strange how much brighter the day seemed to Rob after discovering that Peleg was indeed innocent of peculation, and had done nothing that was wrong. Why, the very birds appeared to sing with sweeter notes than before, while the sunshine filled the boy with a joy he had not fully known since Ralph first communicated his doleful suspicions. That is always the way with a scout who has learned the greatest lesson on the books of the organization—to care for his fellows even as he does for himself, because that is the greatest of all commandments. Somehow nobody seemed very ambitious to be doing strenuous things on that particular day. It was pretty hot, for the mountains, and the shade under the long porch appeared to strike them as just right. So they lolled there in easy-chairs, hammocks, and the broad swing as the minutes went past, chatting, telling stories of past experiences, and in this way exchanging views after the manner of boys in general.
Ralph wanted to know many things connected with the adventures which had fallen to the scout leader and some of his chums, not only around their home town down on Long Island, but under other skies—away across the water where the great nations of Europe were fighting the most terrible war of all history; upon the desert sands of northern Mexico; and even amidst the glories of the wonderful Panama-Pacific Exposition out in California.
This giving out of information was not wholly one-sided, either. Ralph had been around considerable, and was able to talk of strange things he had run across down in the Land of Dixie, where he had lived the better part of his young life, exploring the swamps where the weird Spanish moss festooned the trees, and gave such a funereal aspect to the picture; and Ralph could relate numerous amusing stories of the former slaves whom he had known.
So the morning passed away. The big bullfrogs over in the pond piped in chorus, undisturbed by any pot-hunter with deadly Flobert; doubtless, those bass still left in the pretty lake back of the hills rejoiced to know they would not be tempted to take an attractive lure that was apt to have a sharp barb concealed within its midst. For the five boys spent the entire morning in sweet idleness, content to let the hours drift past without exerting themselves.
Tubby, Andy and Sim had heard enough to know that there was something queer connected with Peleg’s actions. Ralph concluded to take them into his confidence with regard to the serious mistake he had come so near making. Consequently the packets of stamps were exhibited, and the sad story told of how a frivolous gust of wind had almost caused Ralph to accuse the farm boy of being a thief.