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Updated: May 25, 2025
But Nick, as well as his two satellites, Leon Disney and Tip Slavin, had been on the grounds at the time Hugh started his run, for he had taken particular notice of this fact; consequently, it was hardly likely that they could be concerned in any practical joke; and certainly no other fellow would be guilty of such a thing. That decided Hugh.
Redmond regarded with a little awe the huge, bear-like, uniformed figure of the teamster, whom he identified at once from barrack gossip. "Sergeant Slavin?" he enquired respectfully, eyeing the bronzed, clean-shaven face, half hidden by fur cap and turned-up collar. "Meself, lad!" came a rich soft brogue, "I was afther gettin' a wire from th' O.C., tellin' me he was thransfering me another man.
Chief Wambold suspected one boy from the start, after finding that the former chief offender in these lines could prove a positive alibi. This was the third of the bad lot, Tip Slavin. He had even gone to Tip's humble home and made a thorough search, high and low, but without the least success.
"Sergeant, I trust I shall see, or hear from you again shortly. I would like to hear the result of the inquest and er how you are progressing with the case." A few minutes later they heard the silvery jingle of his cutter's bells gradually dying away in the distance. Slavin aroused himself from a scowling, brooding reverie.
Dewy eve indeed! a far cry to the Strand! . . . How freakish sounded that old London variety stage ditty ridiculing the nightly silence of the great snow-bound Nor' West. Redmond could not refrain an explosive, snorting chuckle as he remarked the erratic gait of the slowly approaching pedestrian. As Slavin had opined, he was "going large."
He strove to arouse the other. "Talk about game cocks!" he began lightly. "Ten years ago, say! you must have been a corker regular 'Terry McGovern'." "Eh?" Yorke's far-away eyes stared at him vaguely. "I was in India then. Army light-weight champion in my day. Slavin wasn't joshing much at breakfast, by gum! . . . Now we're here! . . . We're a bright pair!"
He had camp up the Creek two days ago, but is keeping well out of sight for some reason. Telegrams have been received for him at the office but another man has called for them." "Who?" "Red Slavin." "The cur!" said Hampton. "I reckon there is a bad half-hour waiting for those two fellows. What was it that Murphy said?" "That he knew the girl's real name." "Was that all?"
Hugh himself never once doubted the guilt of Tip Slavin; though he fancied the authorities might have a hard time catching him, unless the stubborn Leon at the last, finding himself on the way to the Reform School, confessed, and implicated his companion. He and Thad were talking about that very same thing on Thursday afternoon while on the way home from the park a little earlier than usual.
"There's Ted Slavin and Ward Kenwood sitting up on the bank over there, Paul," remarked Jack, about half an hour before the time when the scouts would have to be going home to their suppers. "I've been watching them," replied the scout master; "and from the way they carry on, laughing when they put their heads together, I had just about made up my mind that they were hatching up some mischief."
Bear wid Yorke as best ye can divilmint an' all for my sake, will yeh?" Not devoid of a certain simple dignity was the grim, rugged face that turned appealingly to the younger man's in the light of the moon. And Redmond, smiling inscrutably into the deep-set, glittering eyes, answered as simply: "I will, Sergeant!" He declined an offer. "Nemoyah! For some unaccountable reason, Slavin smiled also.
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