Chapter XX Kingdon’s Surprising Move
The catboat’s engine was suddenly shut off, and then there was no sound from the water to break the silence that had fallen on the group ashore. Before anybody aboard the Spoondrift could speak, Kingdon gestured for silence.
“All right,” muttered Red. “I’m willing to get it from here.”
Down from the bank above the mooring place came the voice of Horace Pence, cool as ever. Kingdon, who had begun to consider the fellow’s bad qualities as uppermost, again felt a thrill of admiration for him.
“Now, Quibb, you know very well you can’t do that,” Horace was saying soothingly, but with restrained laughter in his voice. “Why bother to try and frighten us?”
“I’ll show you——”
“You’ll show us nothing but warrants for our arrest,” retorted Pence. “You know that’s the best you can do—summons us to court. If you think we have been trespassing here, that’s your limit. You can’t scare us a little bit.”
“Oh, I can’t, hey?” blustered Enos.
“No. Remember we have shown you the permit from the Manatee Lumber Company.”
“I know all about that,” said Enos, his lean jaws seeming to bite off the tart words. “But ’tain’t yours. You stole it—or somethin’. I know you ain’t that Kingdon feller, now. That’s flat.”
“You know a lot,” said Pence. But, before speaking, he had hesitated just an instant. His black eyes had glanced downward and marked the catboat under the bank, and the listening party in her. For that instant, indeed, his gaze fell on Rex Kingdon’s face. The latter had smiled suddenly.
“You know a lot,” repeated Horace Pence.
“I got you foul, young feller,” said Enos, evidently happy to say so. His pale eyes gleamed; his freckled face was roseate; he showed all the venom of the shallow mind and vindictive nature. “You pack up—all five of ye—an’ git off Storm Island. I’m giving you a chance, when I might have got warrants and pulled ye.”
“Say not so!” begged Pence. “You wouldn’t really arrest us, Mr. Quibb?”
“Wouldn’t I?” returned the constable. “I wish I’d gone to Squire Lowder fust-off and got the warrants. No use doing sech fellers a decent turn. I dunno but I could get ye for false pretenses, takin’ another feller’s name the way you did.”
“I didn’t take the name!” cooed Pence. “You gave it to me.”
“You showed me that permit, and acted like it was yourn.”
“And isn’t it?” chuckled the black-eyed fellow.
“Not by a long chalk!” cried Enos. “I know who Rex Kingdon is now.” He turned and pointed to the catboat. “There he is—that curly-haired chap that thinks himself almost as funny as you be. I l’arned who he was t’other day when he was over to Blackport gettin’ fixin’s for that engine. I heard Val Spear—he’s treasurer of the Manatee Company—call him Rex Kingdon right on the street. You ain’t him, an’ you ain’t got no right to that permit.”
For the instant Horace Pence seemed to have no reply ready, although he was quite at ease. His friends were flustered and terrified.
“There! What did I tell you?” the Walcott Hall boys heard Ben Comas say.
“Nice mess you’ve got us into,” whined Pudge.
“The game’s up,” said Kirby, rather stolidly.
Kingdon made a sign to his friends, and they gathered close about him in the stern of the catboat, which was drifting in nearer to the shore.
“Fellows, I’m about to play the trump,” he said, his eyes laughing but his lips grave. “Are you with me?”
“What do you mean, Rex?” demanded Midkiff suspiciously.
But Phillips said promptly: “We’re always with you, Blue-Eyes. Go to it.”
“It’s some foolishness,” began Midkiff again. But Peewee whispered:
“Put on the muffler, Grouch, and let him have his way. King’s always good fun, no matter what he does.”
“What’s on your mind, Rex?” asked Cloudman, his curiosity also aroused.
“Yes, what are you going to do, pitch in and help Enos clean up the bunch?” asked Red, hopefulness in his tone. “That would have my approval.”
“I’ll give you another guess,” laughed Rex. “I’ve a plan that beats thrashing that crowd, much as they deserve it.”
“Unfold it to us,” urged Midkiff, still in doubt, “if it’s anything sensible.”
“Bide a wee,” restrained Rex. “You’ve got to back me up. No balking.”
“Confound it!” exclaimed Cloudman, “you haven’t told us your scheme.”
“No time to discuss it,” said Kingdon. “You’ve got to take my plan on trust.”
“Now I know it’s something foolish,” declared John Midkiff.
The nose of the catboat rubbed against the beach, and Rex was the first one ashore. “Follow your resourceful leader,” he called, laughing over his shoulder at the gloomy face of Midkiff. “Bring a line ashore, Jawn, and moor the old girl. We don’t want to lose her, now that we’ve just got the engine to working like a chawm.”
Cool as ever, he led the way up the bank. For the last few moments the Walcott Hall boys had given no attention to what was being said or done on the island, but now they saw that Enos had stepped back a pace, and had his little black billy in his hand. He was threatening:
“You fellers pull up them stakes and begin packin’ your stuff, or I’ll crack a few heads. I know what I’m doin’. Squire Lowder’ll stand back of me.”
Kingdon came up to the constable, with a good natured smile, and laid a soothing hand upon his shoulder.
“Why all the disturbance, Mr. Squibb?” he asked. “Don’t get overheated on this sweet and pleasant day——”
“And this bunch of fellows is a sweet and pleasant crowd, I s’pose, Mr. Kingdon?” snapped Enos. “And my name’s Quibb, not Squibb, if you please.”
“Sure, Mr. Fibb. My mistake,” said Rex. “What’s doing?”
“You know well enough,” said the angry Enos. “You helped fool me, too——”
“Never!” groaned Kingdon. “You know, Mr. Constable, you are a man who can’t be fooled by a parcel of boys. You said so.”
“Aw—well. I wasn’t sure. This chap had that permit from the Manatee Company.”
“Of course,” said Kingdon easily. “It didn’t matter who showed you the paper—as long as we had it and you saw it?”
Midkiff uttered a grunt that was almost an ejaculation of pain. “I knew it!” he growled.
Mr. Quibb was not the most startled by Kingdon’s query, however; Horace Pence almost leaped forward to stare into the smiling visage of the leader of the Walcott Hall boys.
“What d’ye mean?” snarled the constable. “That these fellers——”
“Certainly, Quibb,” Kingdon replied, quite seriously despite his good-humored look. “You know, it says nothing in the permit about the number of my party. Those other fellows are my friends; at least, I call them so. See the love-light in their eyes when they look at me?”
Unable to fathom the bantering lad, Quibb looked a good deal like a fish out of its element, his mouth open and eyes staring.
“Come hither, Mr. Constable,” Rex said, drawing the man beyond earshot of the others. “Let me bare my heart to you.”
“You can’t bluff me!”
“Oh, I wouldn’t think of trying it! This is no bluff. I’m going to spill the truth, and nothing but the truth, into your copious ear. Those fellows did not belong to my party—originally.”
“There!” exclaimed the constable, swelling again. “That’s what I knowed. They stole that permit.”
“At least, they have it,” agreed Kingdon. “But that is not the point. The permit is issued to ‘Rex Kingdon and friends,’ but it doesn’t say how many friends. And so, Mr. Cribb——”
“Quibb!” ejaculated the constable.
“Oh, pardon me!” pleaded Rex. “I’m dreadfully forgetful of names, but I always remember faces—like yours. Now, I want you to be a good fellow. You’d be almost lovable, really, if you would let your natural kindness of heart have full play. Say or do nothing to sour the milk of human kindness that lies——”
“What do you want me to do?” broke in the constable, nettled yet impressed by Kingdon’s airy manner.
“Remember that black-eyed chap jumped into the drink to snatch you from a watery grave the other day. Be grateful. Let us alone to fight our own jolly battles. I claim them as my friends now, and therefore you really have no right to drive them away. What do you say——”
“I say you’re the sassiest set of boys I ever see. But it’s a fact you got me out of a pickle,” acknowledged the freckled-face constable, putting away his billy.
“All’s well that ends well,” quoth Kingdon briskly. “If anybody asks you, you can tell ’em we’ve got two camps over here for reasons of our own. It’s nobody’s business as long as you are satisfied.”
“Sure not. I know I’m right now,” said the constable, nodding his head. “I heard Val Spear speak to you as though he knowed you well.”
“Thank you so much!” cried Rex, seizing Enos by the hand and almost wringing his arm off with enthusiasm. “I knew you were naturally a broad-minded and generous man. Must you hurry away so soon? I hate to see you go, but—good day, good day.”
The two parties of boys stood waiting and silent until the man had got aboard his motorboat and started it chugging away from Storm Island.