The High School Boys' Training Hike Part 36

"Yours."

"A child?" echoed the young man. "Mine? Do you mean Mollie?"

"Yes," d.i.c.k went on, rapidly. "The child wanted to come here herself to get you, and I came in her stead. It was better that I should come than that little tot. Don't you think so?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand you," returned Tom Drake, beginning to look offended.

"Mr. Drake, do you know that your wife and child are all dressed up---in their prettiest white gowns, waiting for you to come back to bring them into town to-night for the promised treat?

Don't you understand the pain that you're giving them by showing that you prefer a lot of red-nosed loafers in Miller's to your own wife and child? The unhappiness that you're causing them to-night isn't a circ.u.mstance to all the misery that you're piling up for them in the years to come. Switch off! Switch off, while you're yet man enough to be able to do it! Won't you do it---please?

You must know just how happy that little kid will be when she sees you come swinging down the street to bring her and her mother into town. You know how that little tot's eyes will s.h.i.+ne. Can't you hear her saying, 'Here's papa! He's come.' Isn't that baby worth a twenty-mile walk for any man to see when he knows she's his own kiddie and waiting for him? Come along, now; they're both waiting for you; they will be the happiest pair you've seen in a long time."

"I don't know but I will toddle along home," said Drake, rather shame-facedly. "I---I didn't realize how time was slipping by.

Yes; I guess I'll go home. Much obliged to you for letting me know the time."

But at that moment the door opened, and a voice called out:

"Drake! Oh, Drake. Come here; we want you."

"Can't, now," the young man called back. "I'm due at home."

"Home?" came in two or three jeering voices.

Then several men came out of the saloon, laughing boisterously.

"Come back, Drake! We can't let you slip off like that. You're too good a fellow to play the sneak with us. Come on back!"

"I---I tell you, I'm due at home," insisted Drake, though he spoke more weakly.

"Hey! Here's Drake---says he's going to slip home on us!" called one of the tormentors.

More men came out of the place, some of them staggering. With the new arrivals came one whom d.i.c.k and his friends rightly guessed to be Miller---a thickset man, with swaggering manner, insolent expression and rough voice.

"What's this about your going home, Drake?" demanded one of the new arrivals.

"I---I really ought to go home," Drake tried to explain.

"Cut that out," ordered Miller roughly. "You're booked to spend the evening with us, and the evening has hardly begun."

"I promised this young fellow I'd go home," said Drake slowly, "so I guess I will."

"And what has this young feller got to say or do about it?" demanded Miller angrily, as He pushed his way to Drake's side, then glared at d.i.c.k Prescott.

"And what have you got to say about his not going home?" d.i.c.k asked hotly. "Isn't this a free country, where a man may go home when he chooses?"

"It's a free country, and a man has a right to spend his evening in my place when he's invited," Miller a.s.serted roughly.

"Yes; your invitation will hold until his month's pay is gone from his pocket," d.i.c.k flashed back. "That's all you want. Drake has sense enough to see that, and he's leaving you."

"He isn't going home for three hours yet, or anywhere else!" snorted Miller, whose breath proclaimed the fact that he had been using some of his own goods.

d.i.c.k laughed contemptuously as he turned to Tom Drake with:

"You see! That fellow thinks he can give you your orders. That fellow begins to believe that he owns you already."

"Who are you calling 'that feller'?" demanded Miller, dropping a heavy hand on d.i.c.k's shoulder.

"I referred to you," replied Prescott, pus.h.i.+ng the man's hand from his shoulder.

"If you get too funny with me I'll hit you a crack that will carry your head off with it!" snarled the saloon keeper.

"Pshaw!" Prescott answered cuttingly. "You aren't big enough, or man enough, either!"

"What's that?"

Miller aimed a vicious, open-hand blow at young Prescott's face.

It didn't land, but, instead, d.i.c.k's right hand went up smack!

against the fellow's cheek.

"Hang your impudence!" roared Miller, angrily. "I'll pay you for that! I'll teach you!"

He made a rush at d.i.c.k, but two men who had been attracted by the commotion jumped in between them.

"Hold on, Miller!" objected one of these pa.s.sers-by. "You can't pummel a boy!"

"I'll make him howl for hitting me!" roared Miller, doubling his big, powerful fists. "Get out of my way, or I'll run over you!"

"Get out of his way, please!" cried d.i.c.k suddenly. "Let Miller at me, if he wants. I'm willing to fight him. I'll fight him for Tom Drake's right to be a man!"

CHAPTER XX

IN THE MILKSOP CLa.s.s?

"Good! And I'll hold the stakes!" cried Tom Reade jovially, as he took light hold of Drake's arm.

"Let Miller at the boy!" howled one of the bystanders. "He'll show the boy something. The kid is getting big enough to learn, and he ought to be taught."

"I'll fight Miller, if he has the sand!" proclaimed d.i.c.k, who now had his own reasons for wanting to sting the liquor seller into action. "I'll fight the bully, but not here in a saloon yard. There is a vacant lot the other side of the fence. We'll go in there and see how much of a fighter he is."

More citizens had gathered by this time, and there was every sign of an intention to stop further trouble. But Dave Darrin sprang into the crowd, saying, almost in an undertone:

"The respectable men here don't want to try to stop this affair.

A lot of useful manhood depends upon the issue. Don't worry about my friend, if he does look rather young. He can take care of himself, all right, and he is calling for a fight that ought to be fought. You respectable men in the crowd keep still, and just come along and see fair play---that's all."

Dave's earnest eloquence won over many of the men representing the better element of the crowd.