CHAPTER XIX
PAYING THE FIDDLER
"One hundred and twenty-five dollars!" groaned Tad.
"It's outrageous," muttered Professor Zepplin.
"Squire, there's a little matter of three dollars and a half forboard of the young man at my house that I reckon you've forgotten tofigure in," reminded Jed Whitman.
"I will take account of that," answered the justice, making acalculation on the table-top. "The total figure will be one hundredtwenty-eight dollars and fifty cents," he announced.
Chunky turned a smiling face towards the Professor.
"Professor, can you cross my palm for one-twenty-eight fifty?" heasked. "I don't have the amount with me at the moment."
The Pony Rider Boys gazed at each other with troubled eyes.
"Sir, will you permit us to retire to another room to talk thismatter over?" asked the Professor.
"Yes, but be brief. I can't afford to waste more time on this case.Mr. Whitman, will you conduct the prisoner and his friends to theback room? You will be responsible for Brown. See to it that hedoesn't get away."
The party filed solemnly into the back room, which proved to be astore-room. There were empty cases, an old drum stove and a lot ofrubbish, but no chairs. The boys sat down on the boxes, and fixedtheir eyes expectantly on Professor Zepplin.
"Thank goodness that business is over," exclaimed Stacy Brown.
"Young man, don't be in too great a hurry to congratulate yourself.The 'business' may not be ended. That remains to be seen," said theProfessor.
"Wha--what do you mean?" questioned Stacy apprehensively.
"We have to pay the fiddler first. Let us see if we are going to beable to do so."
Professor Zepplin thrust a hand under his outside belt, drawing fromhis money belt a small package of folded bills. These he counted inthe faint light from a dirty window. He counted the bills over asecond time, then a third, growing more agitated with each count.
"Haven't you enough?" asked Tad, stepping over to the Professor.
"I have only seventy-five dollars," answered the Professor.
"I have some money," offered Tad.
"How much?"
Tad emptied his pockets with the result that he was able to hand overfifteen dollars.
"That leaves a balance of thirty-eight dollars to be raised,"announced the Professor.
"And fifty cents," added Ned. "I think I may be able to scrape up afew dollars."
"So can I," added Walter Perkins.
Between them they were able to make the sum total one hundred dollars,leaving twenty-eight dollars and fifty cents still to be raised. Theboys groaned.
"There is one way out of it," spoke up Tad.
"What is that?" questioned the Professor, brightening.
"Let Stacy go to jail," answered Butler.
"I--I don't want to go to jail. I won't go to jail," wailed the fatboy indignantly.
"You will unless we can raise the money," answered the Professorsternly. "Were it not for the disgrace of it, I should be in favorof letting you do that very thing. It might teach you a usefullesson."
"I don't need the lesson. How would you like that kind of a lesson?"demanded Chunky belligerently.
"Like yourself I hardly think I need it," grinned the Professor.
"Wait," said Tad. "I will see what I can do." Stepping to the doorhe called Jed Whitman.
"Mr. Whitman," said Tad, "We find ourselves rather hard pressed formoney just now. You see, we had not looked for anything of thissort."
"How much have you?" asked the Warden.
"We have a hundred dollars. If you will trust us for the balance wegive you our word that it will be sent as soon as we can get ournext remittance from home."
"Can't do it," replied Jed, with an emphatic shake of the head.
"Oh, yes you can. You only think you can't. Nothing is impossible."
"If that's so, then you git out and raise the money," grinned thegame warden.
Even this did not stop Tad Butler. The freckles were glowing onTad's flushed face, but the boy was not in the least disconcerted.
"Please ask the justice if he will trust us for the balance, providedwe pay him a hundred dollars?"
Whitman considered briefly, then stepped out into the other room. Hereturned very shortly with the information that Squire Halliday saidthe entire amount must be paid or the accused would have to go tojail. Stacy would be sent down to Bangor that very day.
"If he is, there will be all uproar in this town that will be heardall the way down the line, ending in the governor's mansion," warnedTad Butler significantly.
"Say, young fellow, what are you getting at?" demanded Whitman.
"A settlement of this business. We have a hundred dollars, the fullamount of the outrageous fine imposed upon Stacy Brown. We haveoffered to make good the costs as soon as we can get a remittancefrom home. But I have a proposal to make to you."
"What is it?"
"We will pay the money, the fine, turning over one of our ponies toyou to be held as security until our remittance gets here from home.If you will take my advice you will make this deal with SquireWhat's-His-Name and give Brown his discharge."
Once more the warden considered, pondering over all that Tad Butlerhad said to him. Perhaps these boys might raise an unpleasant rumpusat headquarters. Yes, there could be no harm in accepting theproposition provided the squire were willing. It seemed that thesquire was open to argument as presented by Jed Whitman, and thelatter returned quickly with the welcome information that Tad'sproposal had been accepted.
"Make out a receipt for the hundred," he said.
"Tad, you are a much better businessman than am I," approved theProfessor.
"Am I free?" asked Stacy.
"For the present," answered Tad. "We are going to turn your pony overto Mr. Whitman to hold until we can pay the rest of the money."
"Give my pony to him?" cried the fat boy. "No, you don't! I guess Iwon't let you do that--not if I am able to fight. That pony stayswith me, and don't you forget it."
"Chunky, now don't you get excited. You might get something youwouldn't like."
"You threatening me?" demanded Stacy belligerently.
"You know I am not. It is a question of your doing as you are told,or of accompanying Mr. Whitman to jail. Which shall it be?"
"I don't want to go to jail, but I want my pony."
"You are the most unreasonable boy I ever knew. But we won't argueit."
"Why don't you let him have your horse!" demanded Stacy.
"I would if it were my case. You got into this difficulty. You mustdo your share towards getting out of it. Wait, I will give Mr.Whitman an order for the pony."
This done, Jed strode away through the village, and the boys filedout from the office of the justice of the peace. The villagers haddeparted, leaving Squire Halliday alone in his office. He did noteven look up when the party passed through his room. Stacy haltedwhen they reached the street.
"I guess I'll go into the hotel and get some breakfast now. Ihaven't had anything to eat this morning."
"Have you the price?" questioned Tad.
"No, I guess you will cross my palm for my breakfast, won't you?"
"I guess not," answered Butler with emphasis. "I haven't a cent."
"But I'm hungry. I want something to eat."
"I have ten cents," announced Walter. "Stacy may have that if hewants it."
"Let me have it," commanded Tad. "I don't dare trust him with allthat money for fear he will overload his stomach. You walk on,Stacy, while I get something for you."
Tad returned with two sandwiches, which Stacy snatched from his hand,and, sitting right down on the edge of the boardwalk, he begangreedily devouring them.
"Where do we come in on the eat question?" demanded Rector.
"We don't come in," replied Tad. "We shall have to fast until we geta remittance from home."
"Isn't there anything to e
at in the camp?"
"Coffee and about enough other stuff to take care of Charlie John.He mustn't know what a predicament we are in."
"How--how long have we got to fast?" stammered Walter.
"I should say about a week, perhaps a little longer," answered TadButler, with a mirthless smile.
A groan went up from the Pony Rider Boys.
"That means we shall all starve to death," growled Ned Rector. "Wecan't stand it. I'm going to look for a job."
"A fine mess you have gotten us into, Stacy Brown," complainedWalter.
The Professor cleared his throat. His opportunity was at hand.
"Stacy, I wish you to come here--in fact, I wish you boys to listento what I have to say."
The Professor's face wore a grave expression as the boys gatheredabout him.
"Now, Stacy," began Professor Zepplin not unkindly, "I have beenmuch concerned for some time over your wicked habit ofexaggerating--or to put it more bluntly--your habit of lying."
"Why, Professor, I--" began Stacy.
The Professor raised a hand for silence.
"None of us believed you told the exact truth about killing the moose.It is doubtful if you have yet told the whole truth concerning it.You can see one evil effect of your falsehoods in the bitterexperience we have just gone through. I have no doubt that if youhad simply said that you killed the animal in self-defense andexplained exactly how you did it, you would have been free of anyfine. Besides, had we not been here, you would have gone to jail.Still, the trouble you have put us to is a trifle when compared tothe evil you are doing. You may think these exaggerations are allvery funny, and, while I don't believe you intended to do any harm,you must remember that a lie is a lie. Give up this abominablehabit, Stacy. That is all I have to say at present. Next time Iprobably shall act, and with less consideration for your feelings,"finished the Professor.
For the moment Stacy Brown seemed impressed, and nodded as if he wereresolved to break his bad habit, but none of his companions believedthe resolution would be very long remembered by the fat boy. Stacy'scompanions were right in their estimate of him.