Still she hesitated, arm in air.
"Will you promise to throw it back?"
"Sure, hope to die. Chuck it."
"Get back a little," said she.
The ball went sailing over the paling, Tom caught it, gave a yell of triumph, beat a tattoo upon the can, and ran for all he was worth.
Outside the saloon Tom borrowed ten cents from Tony, the bootblack, on his father"s behalf, and with this he purchased the beer.
Meanwhile, the bad turn which he had done had begun to sprout and by the time he reached home it had grown and spread to such proportions that Jack"s beanstalk was a mere shrub compared with it. Nothing was farther from John Temple"s thoughts that beautiful Sat.u.r.day than to pay a visit to Barrel Alley. On the contrary, he was just putting on his new spring hat to go out to the Country Club for a turn at golf, when Mary came in crying that Tom Slade had stolen her ball.
Temple cared nothing about the ball, nor a great deal about Mary"s tears, but the mention of Tom Slade reminded him that the first of the month was close at hand and that he had intended to "warn" Bill Slade with the usual threat of eviction. Bill had never paid the rent in full after the second month of his residence in Barrel Alley. When he was working and Temple happened to come along at a propitious moment, Bill would give him two dollars or five dollars, as the case might be, but as to how the account actually stood he had not the slightest idea.
If Tom had not sent Mary Temple into the house crying her father would never have thought to go through Barrel Alley on his way out to the Country Club, but as it was, when Tom turned into the Alley from Main Street, he saw Mr. Temple"s big limousine car standing in front of his own door.
If there was one thing in this world more than another dear to the heart of Tom Slade, it was a limousine car. Even an Italian organgrinder did not offer the mischievous possibilities of a limousine. He had a regular formula for the treatment of limousines which was as sure of success as a "cure all."
Placing his pail inside the doorway, he approached the chauffeur with a suspiciously friendly air which boded mischief. After a strategic word or two of cordiality, he grasped the siren horn, tooted it frantically, pulled the timer aroundr opened one of the doors, jumped in and out of the opposite door, leaving both open, and retreated as far as the corner, calling, "Yah-h-h-h-h!"
In a few minutes he returned very cautiously, sidled up to the house door, and took his belated way upstairs.
Tom placed his pail on the lower step of the stair leading up to the floor above his own, but did not enter the room whence emanated the stern voice of John Temple and the lying excuses of his father. He went down and out on the door step and sat on the railing, gazing at the chauffeur with an exasperating look of triumph.
"I wouldn" be no lousy Cho-fure," he began.
The chauffeur (who received twenty-five dollars a week) did not see the force of this remark.
"Runnin" over kids all de time-you lie, _yer did too_!"
The chauffeur looked straight ahead and uttered not a word.
"Yer"d be in jail if "twuzn"t fer old John paying graft ter the cops!"
The chauffeur, who knew his place, made never a sign.
"Yer stinkin" thief! Yer don"t do a thing but cop de car fer joy-rides--didn" yer?"
At this the chauffeur stirred slightly.
"Yes, yer will!" yelled Tom, jumping down from the railing.
He had just picked up a stone, when the portly form of John Temple emerged from the door behind him.
"Put down that stone, sir, or I"ll lock you up!" said he with the air of one who is accustomed to being obeyed.
"G-wan, he called me a liar!" shouted Tom.
"Well, that"s just what you are," said John Temple, "and if certain people of this town spent less for canvas uniforms to put on their boys to make tramps out of them, we should be able, perhaps, to build an addition to the jail."
"Ya-ah, an" you"d be de first one to go into it!" Tom yelled, as Temple reached the step of his car.
"What"s that?" said Temple, turning suddenly.
"That"s _what!_" shouted Tom, letting fly the stone. It went straight to its mark, removing "old" John"s spring hat as effectually as a gust of wind, and leaving it embedded in the mud below the car.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "CAN"T YOU SEE WHAT THEY"RE A-DOIN?" ROARED HIS FATHER.]
CHAPTER III
IN JAIL AND OUT AGAIN
That night, when Tom Slade, all unaware of the tragedy which threatened his young life, shuffled into Billy"s garage, he announced to his followers a plan which showed his master mind as leader of the gang. "Hey," said he, "I heard Sissy Bennett"s mother say she"s goin"
ter have a s"prise party fer him Friday night, "n" d"yer know wot I"m goin" ter do?"
"Tell him and spoil it fer him?" ventured Joe Flynn.
"Na-a-h!"
"Tick-tack?" asked Slush Ryder.
"Na-ah, tick-tacks is out o" date,"
"Cord ter trip "em up?"
"Guess agin, guess agin," said Tom, exultantly.
But as no one ventured any further guesses, he announced his plan forthwith.
"Don"t say a word-don"t say a word," he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "I swiped two o"
thim quarantine signs offen two doors, "n" I"m gon"er tack one up on Sissy"s door Friday night! Can yer beat it?"
None of them could beat it, for it was an inspiration. To turn away Master Connover"s young guests by this simple but effectual device was worthy of the leadership qualities of Tom Slade. Having thus advertised the possibilities of the signs he took occasion to announce,
"I got anoder one, an" I"ll sell it fer a dime." But even though he marked it down to a dime, none would buy, so he announced his intention of raffling it off.
Before the momentous evening of Connover"s party arrived, however, something else happened which had a curious and indirect effect upon the carrying out of Tom"s plan.
On Wednesday afternoon three men came down Barrel Alley armed with a paper for Bill Slade. It was full of "whereases" and "now, therefores"
and other things which Bill did not comprehend, but he understood well enough the meaning of their errand.
The stone which Tom had thrown at John Temple had rebounded with terrific force!