The High School Left End | Page 8

he left his discarded garments," argued Hemingway, swinging his lantern about.
"We've pretty well trodden down whatever footprints might have been here," disputed Bert Dodge. "I shan't feel satisfied until daylight comes and we've had a good chance to have the river dragged."
"Well, of course, it is possible you know of a reason that would make your father throw himself into the river?" guessed Officer Hemingway, with a shrewd glance at the son.
"Neither my mother nor I know anything about my father that would supply a reason for his suicide," retorted Bert Dodge stiffly. "But I can't see any reason for believing anything except that my poor dad must now be somewhere in the river."
"We'll soon be able to do the best that we can do by night," rejoined Hemingway. "Chief Coy has gone after a gasoline launch that carries an electric search-light. As soon as he arrives we'll go all over the river, throwing the light on every part of the water in search of some further clue. There's no use, however, in trying to do anything more around here. We may as well be quiet and wait."
"I can't stand still!" sounded Dodge's voice, with a ring of anguished suspense in it. "I've got to keep hunting."
"Go ahead, then," nodded the detective. "We would, too, if there were anything further that could be looked into. But there isn't. I'm going to stop and smoke until the launch heaves in sight."
Both policemen threw themselves on the ground, produced pipes and fell to smoking. But Bert Dodge, with the restlessness of keen distress, continued to stumble on up and down along the bank, flashing the lantern everywhere.
Presently Dodge was within sixty feet of where his High School mates crouched in hiding.
Suddenly the livery stable horse, some four or five hundred feet away, whinnied loudly, impatiently.
Natural as the sound was, young Dodge, in the tense state of his nerves, started and looked frightened.
"Wh-what was that?" he gasped.
"A horse," called Hemingway quietly. "Probably some critter passing on the road."
"I wish you'd see who's with that horse," begged young Dodge. "It may bring us news. I'm going, anyway."
With that, swinging the lantern, Bert Dodge started to cut across through the woods with its fringe of bushes.
Dave Darrin slipped away, and out of sight. Before Dick could do so, however, young Dodge, moving at a fast sprint, was upon him.
Bert stopped as though shot when he caught sight of the other boy.
"Dick Prescott?" he gasped.
"Yes," answered Dick quietly.
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to see what news there is about the finding of your father."
Hemingway had now reached the spot, with the other policeman some yards to the rear.
"You write for 'The Blade,' don't you?" challenged Bert.
"Yes," Dick assented.
"And 'The Blade' people sent you here?" cried Bert Dodge, in a voice haughty with displeasure.
"Perhaps 'The Blade' sent me here," Dick only half admitted.
"Sent you here to pry into other people's affairs and secrets," continued young Dodge impetuously. Then added, threateningly:
"Don't you dare to print a word about this affair!"
Dick looked quietly at young Dodge.
"Did you hear me?" demanded Bert.
"Yes."
"Then what's your answer?"
"That I heard you, Bert."
"You young puppy!" cried Dodge, advancing threateningly. "Don't you address me familiarly."
"I don't care anything about addressing you at all," retorted Prescott, flushing slightly under the insult. "At present I can make allowances for you, for I fully understand how anxious you are. But that is no real excuse for insulting me."
"Are you going to heed me when I tell you to print nothing about my father's disappearance?" insisted young Dodge.
"That is something over which you really have no control," Dick replied slowly, though not offensively. "I take all my orders from my employers."
"You young mucker!" cried Bert, in exasperation. "You print anything about our family misfortunes, and I'll thrash you until you can't see."
"I won't answer that," Dick replied, "Until you make the attempt. But, see here, Dodge, you should try to keep cool, and as close to the line of gentlemanly speech and conduct as possible."
"A nice one you are, to lecture me on that subject," jeered Bert Dodge. "You---only a mucker! The son of-----"
"Stop!" roared Dick, his face reddening. He advanced, his fists clenched. "If you're going to say anything against my father or mother, Bert Dodge, then stop before you say it! Before I break your neck!"
"Stop, both of you," interjected Hemingway, springing between the white-faced High School boys. "No blows are going to be struck while members of the police department are around. Dodge, of course, you're upset and nervous, but you're not acting the way a gentleman should, even under such circumstances."
"Then drive that fellow away from here!" commanded Bert.
"I can't," confessed the officer. "He is breaking no law, and has as much right to be here as we have."
"Oh, he objects to my saying