The Chums of Scranton High on the Cinder Path written by Donald Ferguson
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Donald Ferguson >> The Chums of Scranton High on the Cinder Path
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9 THE CHUMS OF SCRANTON HIGH
On the Cinder Path
BY
DONALD FERGUSON
THE WORLD SYNDICATE PUBLISHING CO.
CLEVELAND, O. NEW YORK, N. Y.
Copyright, MCMXIX
by
THE WORLD SYNDICATE PUBLISHING CO.
Printed in the United States of America
by
THE COMMERCIAL BOOKBINDING CO,
CLEVELAND, O.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. THE FIVE NUT FORAGERS
II. ON THE OLD QUARRY ROAD
III. TALKING OF GHOSTS
IV. IN TRAINING FOR THE GREAT TOURNAMENT
V. TREACHERY IN THE AIR
VI. THE PROWLER
VII. CAUGHT IN THE ACT
VIII. LEON PROMISES TO REFORM
IX. SCRANTON IN GALA ATTIRE
X. WHEN MUSCLES COUNTED
XI. THE CRISIS IN CLAUDE'S LIFE
XII. STARTLING NEWS FROM THE JUGGINS BOY
XIII. TO THE RESCUE OF "K. K."
XIV. THE SEARCHING PARTY
XV. PROWLING AROUND THE QUARRY
XVI. A FRIENDLY "GHOST"
XVII. SCRANTON'S "OPEN HOUSE" DAY
XVIII. THE GREAT MARATHON RACE
XIX. ON THE FINAL MILE OF THE COURSE
XX. THE BOY WHO WON--CONCLUSION
THE CHUMS OF SCRANTON HIGH
CHAPTER I
THE FIVE NUT FORAGERS
The bright October sun was half-way down the western sky one Saturday
afternoon. Two-thirds of the Fall month had already gone, and the
air was becoming fairly crisp in the early mornings.
All around the forest trees were painted various shades of bright
scarlet, burnt umber brown and vivid gold by the practiced fingers of
that master artist, the Frost-King. Flocks of robins and blackbirds
were gathering rather late this year, preparatory to taking their
annual pilgrimage to the warm Southland. They flew overhead at times
in vast numbers, making a tremendous chatter.
A noisy bunch of crows cawed unceasingly amidst the treetops as a
large, lumbering old automobile passed along the country road, the
same filled with lively boys, and also a number of sacks stuffed to
their utmost capacity with what appeared to be black walnuts,
shell-bark hickories, butternuts, and even splendid large chestnuts.
Apparently, the strange and deadly blight that was attacking the
chestnut groves all through the East had not yet appeared in the
highly favored region around the town of Scranton, in which place the
boys in question lived, and attended the famous high school where Dr.
Carmack, also supervisor of the entire county schools, held forth.
The five tired lads who formed this nutting party we have met before
in the pages of previous stories in this series; so that to those who
have been fortunate enough to possess such books they need no lengthy
introduction.
First, there was Hugh Morgan, looking as genial and determined as
ever, and just as frequently consulted by his comrades, because his
opinion always carried considerable weight. Then came his most
intimate chum, Thad Stevens, who had played the position of backstop
so successfully during the summer just passed, and helped to win the
pennant for Scranton against the other two high schools of the
country, situated in the towns of Allendale and Belleville.
Besides these two, there was included in the party a tall chap who
seemed to be acting as chauffeur, from which it might be judged that
he had supplied the means for taking this nutting trip far afield;
his name was Kenneth Kinkaid, but among his friends he answered to
the shorter appellation of "K. K." Then came a fourth boy of shorter
build, and more sturdy physique, Julius Hobson by name; and last, but
far from least, Horatio Juggins, a rather comical fellow who often
assumed a dramatic attitude, and quoted excerpts from some school
declamation, his favorite, of course, being "Horatio at the Bridge."
It was "K. K." who got up the annual foraging expedition on this
particular year, and promised that they should go in style in the
antiquated seven-passenger car belonging to his father, who was a
commercial traveler, which car "K. K." often used, when he could
raise the cash to provide sufficient gasolene at twenty-five cents
per gallon. But on this momentous occasion each fellow had chipped
in his share pro rata; so that the generous provider of the big, open
car was not compelled to beg or borrow in order to properly equip the
expedition.
For ten days and more previously some of the boys had industriously
interviewed the farmers who stood in the market-place during the early
mornings, selling the products of their acres. Doubtless numerous
good mothers wondered what caused such an early exodus from warm beds
those days, since farmers had a habit of getting rid of their produce
at dawn, and driving off home while most schoolboys were indulging in
their last nap.
But, by various means, they had learned just where the nuts grew most
plentifully that season; and quite a list of available places had
been tabulated: to the Guernsey Woods for blacks; plenty of
shagbarks, and some shellbarks to be gathered over at the old Morton
Place, where no one had lived these seven years now; and they said
the chestnuts away up in that region miles beyond the mill-pond was
bearing a record crop this season, as if to make amends for lean
years a-plenty.
Scranton was one of the few places where the boys still yearned after
a goodly supply of freshly gathered nuts to carry them through a long
and severe winter. Somehow they vied with one another in the
gathering of the harvest of the woods, and often these outings
yielded considerable sport, besides being profitable to the nutters.
On one momentous occasion the boys had even discovered the hive of a
colony of wild bees, cut the tree down, fought the enraged denizens
by means of smoke and fire, and eventually carried home a wonderful
stock of dearly earned honey that would make the buckwheat cakes
taste all the sweeter that winter because of the multitude of
swellings it cost the proud possessors.
Hugh had been coaxed to join the party; not that he did not fully
enjoy such enterprises, but he had laid out another programme for
that afternoon. All through the morning these same lads had been
hard at work on the open field where Scranton played her baseball
games, and had such other gatherings as high-school fellows are
addicted. Here a fine new cinder path had been laid around the
grounds, forming an oval that measured just an eighth of a mile, to a
fraction.
All through the livelong day on Saturdays, and in the afternoons
during weekdays, boys in strange-looking running costumes of various
designs could be seen diligently practicing at all manner of stunts,
from sprinting, leaping hurdles, engaging in the high jump, with the
aid of poles; throwing the hammer; and, in fact, every conceivable
exercise that would be apt to come under the head of a genuine
athletic tournament.
For, to tell the secret without any evasion, that was just what
Scranton designed to have inside of another week--a monster affair
that included entries from all other schools in the county, and which
already promised to be one of the greatest and most successful meets
ever held.
Hugh and his chums were every one of them entered for several events;
indeed, it would have been like looking for a needle in a haystack to
try and find a single Scranton boy above the age of ten, and sound of
wind, who had not taken advantage of the generous invitation to place
his name on the records, and go in for training along a certain line.
Those who could not sprint, leap the bars, throw hammer or discus, or
do any other of the ordinary stunts, might, at least, have some
chance of winning a prize in the climbing of the greased pole, the
catching of the greased pig, the running of the obstacle race, or
testing their ability to hop in the three-legged race, where each
couple of boys would have a right and left leg bound together, and
then attempt to cross a given line ahead of all like competitors.
So even when they started out after lunch the whole five were a bit
tired; and a vast store of nuts, like the one they were fetching
home, cannot be gathered, no matter however plentiful they may be on
ground and trees, without considerable muscular effort on the part of
the ambitious collectors.
Consequently, every fellow was feeling pretty stiff and sore about
the time we overtake them on the way home. Besides, most of them had
zigzag scratches on face and hands by which to remember the
wonderfully successful expedition for several days. Then there was
Julius Hobson with a soiled handkerchief bound around his left thumb,
which he solicitously examined every little while. He had, somehow,
managed to catch a frisky little squirrel, which, wishing to take
home, he had imprisoned in one of his side pockets that had a flap;
but, desirous of fondling the furry little object, he had
incautiously inserted his bare hand once too often; for its long
teeth, so useful for nut-cracking, went almost through his thumb, and
gave his such an electric shock that in the confusion the frightened
animal managed to escape once more to its native wilds.
Hugh, as he went along toward home, was really taking mental notes
concerning the lay of the land, and with an object in view. He was
entered for the fifteen-mile Marathon race (an unusually long
distance for boys to run, by the way, and hardly advisable under
ordinary conditions), and one of the registering places where every
contestant had to sign his name to a book kept by a judge so as to
prove that he had actually reached that particular and important
corner of the rectangular course, had been the quaint little old road
tavern just half a mile back of them.
"You're wondering just why I'm so curious about the country up here,
I can see, fellows," Hugh was saying about the time we meet them;
"and, as we all belong to the same school, and our dearest wish is to
see Scranton High win the prize that is offered by the committee in
the Marathon, I don't mind letting you in. I know something about
this country up here, and have traced on a surveyor's chart the
ordinary course a fellow would be apt to take in passing from the
second tally post, that old tavern back of us, along this road to the
canal, and from there across the old logging road to Hobson's Pond,
where there's going to be the last registering place before the dash
for home. Well, I've figured it out that a fellow would save
considerable ground if he left this same road half a mile below, and
cut across by way of the Juniper Swamp trail, striking in again along
about the Halpin Farm."
His remarks created no end of interest, for there were several others
among the bunch who had also entered for that long-distance race;
and, naturally, they began to figure on how they might take advantage
of Hugh's discovery. It was all for the honor and credit of good old
Scranton High; so that it really mattered little just which fellow
crossed the line first, so long as he "saved the bacon."
"It sounds pretty fine to me, Hugh," said Julius, "only I don't like
one thing."
"What's that, Julius?" demanded the Juggins boy.
"By following that Juniper Swamp trail and the old road Hugh
mentions, we'd have to pass close to that deserted stone quarry; and
say, the farmers all vow it's sure haunted."
CHAPTER II
ON THE OLD QUARRY ROAD
When Julius made this assertion, the other fellows looked at each
other in what might be said to be a queer way. In fact, they had all
heard certain absurd stories told in connection with the old quarry
that had not been worked for so many years that the road leading to
it across country had grown up in grass and weeds. Some adventurous
boys who went out there once declared it was a most gruesome place,
with pools of water covered with green scum lying around, and all
sorts of holes looking like the cave Robinson Crusoe found on his
island home to be seen where granite building rocks had been
excavated from the towering cliffs.
It was K. K. who laughed first, actually laughed scornfully, though
Julius took it all so seriously. Thad Stevens followed with a
chuckle, after his peculiar fashion.
"You give me a pain, Julius, you certainly do," ventured K. K.
"To think," added Thad, assuming a lofty air of superior knowledge,
"of a fellow attending Scranton High believing the ridiculous yarns
these uneducated tillers of the soil and their hired help pass
around, about there being some sort of a genuine _ghost_ haunting the
old quarry--why, it's positively silly of you, Julius, and I don't
mind telling you so to your face."
"Oh, hold on there, fellows!" expostulated the other boy; "I didn't
say that I really and truly believed any of those awful stories, did
I? But so many different persons have told me the same thing that,
somehow, I came to think there _might_ be some fire where there was
so much smoke. Of course, it can't be a ghost, but, nevertheless,
there are queer goings-on about that deserted quarry these
nights--three different people, and one of them a steady-going woman
in the bargain, assured me they had glimpsed moving lights there, a
sort of flare that did all sorts of zigzag stunts, like it was
cutting signals in the air."
"Hugh, do you think that could be what they call wild-fire, or some
folks give it the name of will-o'-the-wisp, others say
jack-o'-lantern?" demanded Horatio Juggins, who had been listening
intently while all this talk was going on.
"I'd hardly like to say," replied Hugh thoughtfully. "As a general
thing that odd, moving light is seen in low, damp places. Often it
is noticed in graveyards in the country, and is believed to be
induced by a condition of the atmosphere, causing something like
phosphorescence. You know what a firefly or lightning bug is like,
don't you, Horatio? Yes, and a glow-worm also? Well, they say that
there are black-looking pools of stagnant water lying around the old
quarry; and yes, I think the lights seen might come from just such
conditions."
"That sounds all very well, Hugh," continued Julius, "but what about
the terrifying cry that sometimes wells up from that same place?"
"A cry, Julius, do you say?" exclaimed Horatio, his eyes growing
round now with increasing wonder and thrilling interest, "do you
really and truly mean that, or are you only joshing?"
"Well," the narrator went on to say soberly, "two fellows told me
they'd heard that same shriek. One was hunting a stray heifer when
he found himself near the quarry, and then got a shock that sent him
on the run all the way home, regardless of trees he banged into, for
it was night-time, with only a quarter-moon up in the western sky.
The other had laughed at all such silly stories, and to prove his
bravery concluded to venture out there one night when the moon was as
round as a cartwheel. He got close to the deserted workings when he
too had a chill as he heard the most outlandish cry agoing, three
times repeated, and----well, he grinned when he confessed that it
took him just about one-fifth the time to get back home that he'd
spent in the going."
"Whee! perhaps there may be some sort of wild animal in one of the
caves they tell about up there?" ventured Horatio. "I'm not a
believer in ghosts, and I don't consider myself a coward, either; but
all the same it'd have to be something pretty big to induce me to
walk out there to that same lonely quarry after nightfall. Now laugh
if you want to, K. K."
"Well," interrupted Hugh, just then, "we're approaching the place
right now where that old quarry road I spoke of starts in. I'd like
ever so much to take a look at that same quarry, by daylight, mind
you. Is there any objection, fellows, to our testing out that road
right now? It used to be a pretty fair proposition I've been told,
so far as a road goes, and I think we could navigate the same in this
car. K. K. how do you stand on that proposition, for one?"
"Count me in on anything that promises an adventure, Hugh," came the
prompt reply. "There is plenty of gas in the tank, and if we do get
a puncture on the sharp stones we've got an extra tube along, with
lots and lots of muscle lying around loose for changing the same.
That's my answer, Hugh."
"Thad, how about you?" continued the shrewd Hugh, well knowing that
by making an individual appeal he would be more apt to receive a
favorable response, because it goes against the average boy's pride
to be accounted a weakling, or one addicted to believing old wives'
fairy stories of goblins, and all such trash.
"Oh, count me in, Hugh," responded the other, with an indifference
that may possibly have been partly assumed; but then Thad Stevens was
always ready to back his enterprising chum, no matter what the other
suggested.
"Horatio, it's up to you now!" Hugh went on remorselessly, as K. K.
stopped the car at a signal from the other, and faint signs of what
had once been a road were to be distinguished just on the left.
"Majority rules, you know," said the wise Juggins boy, "and already
three have given their assent; so it's no back-out for little
Horatio."
"Course I'll agree, Hugh," quickly added Julius, when he saw that the
other had turned toward him. "I'm just as curious as the next fellow
to see that old haunted quarry--in the daytime, of course. Besides,
everybody knows there isn't any such thing as a ghost. All such
stories, when they're sifted down, turn out to be humbugs. Sometimes
the moving spectre is a white donkey browsing alongside the road.
Then again I've heard of how it was a swing that had a white pillow
left in it by the children, and the night wind caused it to advance
and retreat in a _terrible_ way. Hugh, let's investigate this silly
old business while we're on the spot."
And by these wonderfully brave words Julius hoped to dissipate any
notion concerning his alleged timidity that may have lodged in the
brains of his chums.
So K. K. started up again, and by another minute the old car had
passed in among the trees, with the overgrown brush "swiping" against
the sides every foot of the way. It was necessary that they proceed
slowly and cautiously, because none of them had ever been over that
long disused road before, and all sorts of obstacles might confront
the bold invaders of the wilds.
Hugh was using his eyes to good advantage, and at his advice the
others did the same. It was a good thing the car was old, and that
it mattered nothing how those stiff branches scraped against the
sides during their forward progress. K. K. knew how to manage, all
right, and, although the trail was quite rough in places where the
heavy rains had washed the earth away, and left huge stones
projecting, he was able to navigate around these obstacles
successfully.
Twice they came to low places where water ran, and there was some
danger of the heavy car becoming mired. At such times several of the
boys would jump out, and after investigating the conditions perhaps
throw a mass of stones and pieces of wood in, to make what Hugh
called a sort of a "corduroy road" across the swampy section of
ground.
It was all very interesting in the bargain, and, for the time being,
the boys even forgot the fact that they were exceedingly tired.
Then they seemed to be gradually ascending a grade, where the road
turned out to be somewhat better.
"I imagine we're getting close to the quarry now, fellows," Hugh
informed them; "if what I was told is true. It will lie over here on
the right; and only for the dense growth of trees with their foliage
still hanging on, we might see the cliff forming the background of
the quarry right now."
Julius and Horatio looked around them with increasing interest, and
perhaps a slight flutter of unusual vigor in the region of their
hearts. It was about as gloomy a scene as any of them had ever gazed
upon. Years had elapsed since work in the stone quarry had been
abandoned, and Nature, as usual, had done her best to hide the cruel
gashes made in her breast by man; the trees had grown and spread,
while bushes and weeds extended their sway so as to almost choke
everything around. The distant cawing of the crows sounded more
gruesome than ever amidst such surroundings; but there was no sign of
bird-life to be seen. It was as though the little feathered
creatures found this region too lonely even for their nest building.
Not even a red or gray squirrel frisked around a tree, or boldly
defied the intruders of his wilderness haunt.
"There, I just had a glimpse of the place through an opening!"
suddenly announced Hugh; "I calculate that we'll soon come in plain
sight of the whole business, for this road leads straight across the
dumps, I was told, and then on again in the direction of Hobson's
Pond."
The sun was passing behind the first cloud of the whole day just
then. Somehow the added somber conditions had an effect on all the
boys; for, with the temporary vanishing of the king of day, the
shadows around them appeared to grow bolder, and issue forth from
their secret retreats.
"Ugh! this is certainly a fierce place for a fellow to visit, say
around midnight," K. K. was forced to admit, for he was the essence
of candor at all times.
"Wild horses couldn't drag me up here at such a time as that," said
Horatio, as he looked ahead, and shivered, either with the chill of
the air, or from some other reason, he hardly knew himself.
"Hugh, would you try it if someone dared you to?" demanded Julius
suddenly, taking the bull by the horns, so to speak.
"I don't think I would, on a dare," replied the other calmly, yet
deliberately, as he smiled at the speaker; "but if there was any good
and sufficient reason for my doing the same, I'd agree to come alone,
and spend a whole night in the deserted quarry. However, I'm not
particularly _hankering_ after the experience, so please don't try to
hatch up any wild scheme looking to that end. If you want to come,
Julius, you're welcome to the job."
Julius shuddered, and looked a bit pale at the very thought.
"Oh! I wasn't even dreaming of it, Hugh," he hastened to declare.
"I'd much prefer to being asleep in my own comfy bed at home when
midnight comes around, and the last thing on earth you'd catch me
doing would be out hunting spooks."
It was just as Julius finished saying this that they received a
sudden shock. A loud and thrilling sound, not unlike a human shriek,
came to their ears, filling each and every boy in the car with a
sense of unmitigated horror. It was so exceedingly dreadful that K.
K. involuntarily brought the auto to a full stop, and then turned a
face filled with mingled curiosity and awe upon his comrades.
CHAPTER III
TALKING OF GHOSTS
"That was no crow cawing, boys, believe me!" ejaculated K. K.
"Crow! Well, I should say not!" added Horatio instantly. "If you
asked me right to my face I'd mention a donkey braying. Gee! but it
was fierce!"
"But what would a donkey be doing away up here at the old quarry,
where there hasn't been a stroke of work done these many years; tell
me that?" demanded Julius defiantly.
"I don't believe it was a donkey," said Hugh, shaking his head, as
though he, too, found himself exceedingly puzzled; "but I'm not in a
position to explain the thing. That was certainly a queer noise, for
a fact."
"Extraordinary!" assented Thad Stevens.
"Well, I should call it perfectly awful!" Horatio clipped in.
"Horrible would be a better word to describe it," eagerly followed
Julius, who, it must be confessed, was trembling all over; of course,
not with fear, or anything like that, but just because of excitement,
he assured himself.
"And," continued the sensible Hugh, "if that's the sort of noises
these farmer folks have been hearing right along, I don't wonder some
of them have been nearly scared out of their wits. It was bad enough
in broad daylight, with the sun shining; so what must it have seemed
like in the moonlight, or when it was pitch dark?"
"Wow! excuse me from coming up here after dusk," muttered Julius.
"I'm no ghost-hunter, let me tell you. I know my weak points, and
seeing things in the night-time used to be one of the same. They had
a great time breaking me of it, too. Even now I sometimes dream of
queer things when I've got the nightmare, after eating too big a
Thanksgiving dinner; and when I wake up suddenly I'm all in a sweat,
and a poor old moth fluttering at the window will give me a start,
thinking it's the tiger getting in my East Indian bungalow."
"Well, what's the program, Hugh?" asked K. K. "Shall I start up
again, so we can continue our journey along this tough old road; or
do you want to get out, and take a hunt around the quarry for the
thing that gave those yawps?"
"Get out?" repeated Julius, in a sudden panic; "not for Joseph.
Don't count on _me_ for any such silly business. I came up here to get
walnuts and such; and I'm meaning to stick close to my engagement.
Side issues can't tempt me to change my mind. Guess I know when I'm
well off."
"It's been several minutes since we heard that sound," Hugh went on
to remark; "and, so far, it hasn't been repeated."
"Oh! it came three times, you remember, Hugh," suggested K. K.; "and,
like in baseball, I reckon it's three times and out. Whatever it was
let out those screeches it's certainly quieted down. How about going
on now, Hugh?"
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