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Updated: June 1, 2025
"Oh, it will be town talk by to-morrow," declared Frank, as he started off down the road toward his uncle's house. Mr. Dent's residence was about a mile outside of Darewell. The road leading to it was well lighted up to within half a mile of the Dent place, and then the lamps were few and far apart.
The only pupils who seemed angry over the matter were the boys on the dance committee, who were incensed at the breaking up of the affair. "I know those Darewell Chums had the most to do with it," said Denny Thorp, who was the leader of the crowd that had captured Ned. "I'll get even with them." "It looks to me as though they had gotten even with us," remarked Peter Enderby, Denny's chum.
By the smell of lime and mortar Ned could tell he was in some new building, one probably near completion. He went over in his mind the location of all the new structures going up in Darewell. There were several, in different parts of the town, and so he could not decide where he was. Then, as he listened, he could hear the sound of running water, and he knew he must be near the river.
"Who did it?" "Where did they come from?" "How did it happen?" These and many more questions were heard on every side. The paper bags from which the mice had burst were still in the center of the floor. Some of the first-year boys picked them up. "I thought so!" exclaimed Walter Powell, the chairman of the arrangement committee of the dance. "The Darewell Chums had a hand in this.
"Well of course it's possible," admitted Bart, "but I don't believe a sick person, or a well one, either, could get here without a lot of trouble. There are no paths to speak of, so I've heard old hunters say." "That's good," Mr. Hardman remarked, half to himself. "That's just what I want. Is this the only road leading into the woods from Darewell?" "The only one," replied Bart.
Frank resided about a mile out of the town, with his uncle, Abner Dent, a wealthy farmer. The four boys, because of their close association, were known as the "Darewell Chums." Darewell was located on the Still river, not far from Lake Erie. The lads had played together ever since they attended primary school, and their friendship was further cemented when they went to the High School.
They hurried back to town, thinking they might overtake Frank before he reached Darewell, but he had evidently walked fast for they did not see him. As they were passing the post-office, Ned looked in, and caught sight of their chum. "There's Frank," he said. Frank had just taken a letter from his uncle's box.
It was a Saturday afternoon early in June, and the fine weather had brought a big crowd to see the game, which was played on the Lakeville grounds. The members of the High School nine, including a few substitutes, rode home in a big stage, but trolley cars took the other Darewell boys and girls back.
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