The Great Oakdale Mystery. Scott Morgan

the sidewalk in front of Urian Eliot’s house they saw Mr. Eliot talking with Lucius Timmick, the cashier of the bank. Timmick was a man under thirty years of age, thin, smooth-faced, save for some high cut “siders,” and a trifle sanctimonious in his manner. He was dressed wholly in black and carried a Bible in his hand.

      Mr. Eliot spoke pleasantly to the boys as they passed, and Timmick gave them a grudging nod.

      “That dried-up shrimp makes me tired,” muttered Hooker. “Just because Urian Eliot took him into the bank and made him cashier, he thinks he’s something. I know him; he always was a sneak. Why, he used to watch the boys nights and blow on them every time they had a little fun. He caught us hooking apples once, and made an awful fuss about it. Talked of having some of us sent to the reform school. Now he teaches a class in Sabbath School, and butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.”

      “It is evident,” smiled Fred, “that you don’t love Mr. Timmick much.”

      “You wouldn’t think much of him either, if you’d lived long in Oakdale. He has too much dignity now to sneak round nights trying to find out what the fellows are doing, but he’s just as much a fox as he ever was. If I was president of a bank, I’d never trust him to handle the cash.”

      “Evidently Mr. Eliot trusts him thoroughly.”

      “Oh, yes, he’s got Urian Eliot fooled. Well, guess I’ll hike for home, as Rod Grant would say. Bye, bye, old man.”

      Thus far Fred had found no good opportunity to tell his father privately about the mysterious stranger and about what he had seen from his window the night before, nor did he find such a chance that day. The following morning he dismissed the matter from his mind, fancying it improbable that the man would again be seen around Oakdale.

      CHAPTER VII.

      ANNOYING ATTENTIONS

      Sleuth Piper seemed to develop a sudden remarkable fondness for Fred Sage, upon whom he persisted in thrusting himself whenever possible, although he endeavored to make his actions seem natural and unpremeditated. At the academy he hung around a great deal in Fred’s vicinity, usually near enough to hear and understand anything Sage might say. Time after time he engaged Fred in conversation, which he usually brought about by speaking of school matters or sports in which the most of the boys were interested.

      Monday morning, as he was making his way to the academy, Fred had been a bit surprised to encounter Sleuth in the vicinity of the Methodist church, for Piper, if also bound for school, had come a considerable distance out of his way. This action seemed to be explained, however, when the queer fellow betrayed a certain amount of anxiety lest Sage had broken his promise to maintain secrecy regarding the Saturday night interview at Fred’s house.

      “What do you take me for, Piper?” exclaimed Fred, annoyed. “When I get ready to tell about that, I’ll let you know in advance.”

      “No offence, old fellow,” said Sleuth hastily. “You understand anyone can let such things leak unintentionally.”

      That night, after the shower in the gym following practice on the field, Sleuth was waiting to join Fred and persisted in walking all the way home with him, maintaining a confidential atmosphere, which seemed to invite confidence and trust on the part of the other. This effort was so palpably apparent that, although inwardly annoyed, Sage could not help laughing over it when Sleuth finally set off for his own home.

      “The chump!” he muttered. “He thinks he’s clever, but it’s easy enough to see through him.”

      But when, on the following morning, Sleuth again joined Fred on the way to school, Sage could scarcely restrain his annoyance. Succeeding, however, he tried the effect of joshing and banter.

      “Say, Sleuth,” he laughed, “you’ve certainly taken a sudden pronounced liking for my society. I never dreamed you entertained such deep affection for me.”

      “Oh,” returned Piper, with pretended carelessness, “I’ve always liked you, Fred, ever since you came here from – from – . Let me see, where did you come from? I’ve forgotten.”

      “Perhaps you never knew.”

      “That’s right, perhaps I didn’t. Seems to me, though, I’ve heard it was somewhere in New York State. Is that right?”

      “Let it go at that; it’s near enough.”

      “Oh, if there’s any reason why you don’t care to tell, of course you’ve a right to decline to answer.”

      “Do you know, Sleuth, I always feel a natural disinclination to gratify the unwarranted curiosity of people who try to pry into affairs that are of no concern to them.”

      “Oh, piffle, Fred! I’m not prying. What’s the matter with you? I was just thinking that probably before coming here you attended a school of more importance than Oakdale Academy. You knew as much about football as any fellow in this town when you appeared here, and that’s how you happened to get on the team as quarterback last year. Eliot said you were the fellow best adapted for the position, and you proved that he was right by the way you filled it.”

      “Thanks for the taffy. Your generosity in handing it out has got me going. What do you want to know next? Ask and ye shall not receive. Rubber and you’ll get it in the neck.”