The Chums of Scranton High | Page 8

promise to keep silent, Hugh," she assured him,
holding out her withered hand, resplendant with lovely gems, diamonds,
rubies and pearls, for like most French women, the Madame was more
than commonly fond of jewelry. "And from what you say, as well as

your mentioning the boy's name before I spoke it, I assume that you
know Owen Dugdale?"
"I have latterly become greatly interested in him, ma'am, and we have
been much together," he told her simply. "Since I pride myself on being
something of a reader of human nature, I feel almost certain that there
must be a great mistake somewhere; and that when the truth is
discovered, you and I will laugh, and say it was ridiculous for us to
even think Owen could have taken the spoons!"
The old lady's eyes glistened as she heard these brave words. Standing
up for a friend was one of Hugh Morgan's leading traits; and yet, if the
truth were known, he did not feel quite so positive as his words would
indicate. Things certainly looked dark for the Dugdale boy. Hugh,
when he came to think over the whole matter, was bound to be smitten
with a grave fear lest the worst come to pass.
"Somehow I seem to have unbounded confidence in your ability to
accomplish the impossible, Hugh Morgan," she told him, which words
of praise thrilled him to the heart, for he was, after all, human and a boy.
"Only good words have come to me about you from all those with
whom I converse; for though you may think it odd in an old woman
who never had a son of her own, I have all my life been interested in
other people's children, particularly boys, seven of whom I have had
educated at my expense. Ah! they are either fighting bravely for the life
of France just now, or else filling patriots' graves in the battle country."
Hugh asked a few more questions that chanced to occur to him. Then
he prepared to take his leave.
"I will think it all over, ma'am," he remarked, as she gave him her
dainty if wrinkled hand to press, "and like as not I'll conjure up some
scheme by which we can prove whether Owen is innocent or guilty.
You see I could be hidden in that room and a trap set, you sending him
word to call for a package you wished him to deliver. Then if he went
out without even looking into the drawing-room, and yet another of
your spoons disappeared, we'd know to a certainty that the trouble lay
inside this house."

"Hugh, you give me fresh hope!" she cried, with her eyes glistening as
though the tears were trying to flow. "Oh! I would almost pray that
something of the sort turned out to be the case, for somehow I have
taken a great interest in Owen Dugdale. I mean later on to find an
opportunity to meet that wonderful grandfather of his, for somehow I
suspect he may turn out to be an exile of note who has taken this means
for hiding his identity. I have known eminent Russians to do that from
fear of the Czar's secret agents."
Hugh could not but remember how some of the people chose to believe
old Mr. Dugdale was keeping in hiding from some far less honorable
cause; but of course he did not say anything about that. He went out of
Madame Pangborn's big house with a sense of having undertaken a
great responsibility; and realizing that an up-hill task lay upon his
young shoulders which might test his utmost abilities to carry through.
CHAPTER IV
IN FOR A FROLIC
The high-school boys and girls of Scranton, like those of most other
communities, delighted in getting up occasional entertainments so dear
to the hearts of young people. A straw-ride late in the summer; it might
be a class-spread under difficult conditions on account of the envy of
the other grades at school; and once in a while a jolly barn dance was
engineered by a committee composed of both sexes.
There was just such a pleasant outing arranged for this same Friday
night. Some of the fellows had made up a party to go out several miles
to where a big barn, as yet empty of the anticipated crop of hay, offered
them excellent facilities for a merry hop.
A trio of darky players had been engaged. The leader was quite famous
through that section of country and had played at such affairs for years.
Everybody for miles around knew Daddy Whitehead and the fiddle
from which he could extract the most enticing music boys and girls had
ever danced to; while his assistants, Mose Coffin and Abe Skinner were
fairly good with the