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Bet you anything they were robbers or or something." "Robbers don't usually travel around the country at night in autos," said Clint thoughtfully. "But I felt the way you did about them, I guess. I sort of felt that it would be just as well if we didn't butt in! One of them had a club that looked right hefty." "Let's go out there and see if we can find anything," suggested Amy.
I thought it was Mullins. Come on in." "Thought maybe you were dead," said Clint flippantly, "and dropped in to see." "Dead!" questioned Penny vaguely. "Yes, I didn't hear the violin, you know." "Oh, I see." There was a moment's silence. Then Penny said very soberly: "It isn't me that's dead; it's the violin."
A handsome gold watch, not much thicker than a book-cover, was attached to Amy's chain, while Clint, having a perfectly good watch already, was invited to select something else from the array on the desk and finally allowed himself to become possessed of a diamond and ruby scarfpin which was much the finest thing he had ever owned.
Still you might see him any day at noon at the Congress, or at the Athletic Club, or at one of the restaurants known for its savoury food, busy with one of the richer luncheon dishes and two cups of thick creamy coffee. Though the entire hotel was watching her Hannah was actually unconscious of Clint Darrow's attentions, or their markedness, until her son-in-law Ed teased her about him one day.
The latter retreated, guarding well, but Beaufort's blows were heavy ones, the ground was slippery with fallen leaves, and Penny, missing his footing, measured his length, his head narrowly escaping collision with a tree as he fell. With a grunt of triumph, Beaufort sprang toward him and aimed a blow. But Clint, boiling with rage, dashed between. "Let him up!" he cried.
Saunders, who was going around on crutches those days, viewed the advent of Clint on the 'varsity squad with misgiving, but he was very nice to him whenever the opportunity occurred. The same was true of the older candidates for the tackles positions, Trow, Tyler and Crewe.
Clint had a way of suddenly waking, at the most inopportune moments, to the fact that he was due to play left tackle on the Brimfield Football Team against Claflin School in a few days, and when he did he invariably experienced an appalling sick feeling at the pit of his stomach and became for the moment incapable of speech or action.
Amy threw up his hands in despair. "You fellows are so stuck on yourselves," he said finally, "that I suppose you'll be expecting Robey to discharge the 'varsity and let you play against Claflin!" "He might do worse, I dare say," returned Clint carelessly. "Might do Here, I can't stand this! I'm going out! Where's my cap?" And Amy fled.
That it did not prove wholly uneventful the reader may discover for himself in the second volume of this series, entitled: "The Frozen Ship; or, Clint Webb Among the Sealers." I was not thinking of either romance or adventure, however, when I began my homeward voyage.
The door of Number 13 was open as Clint returned to his room after football practice and lugubrious sounds issued forth. It was very near the supper hour and Penny's room was lighted only by the rays of the sinking sun.
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