I want to talk this over, Porter. I – that is – let us come to terms – that's the best way. It won't do you any good to try to get me into trouble. I – I haven't done anything wrong. I was out on the river by – by accident, that's all – got it into my head to have a lark that night, just as you went out for a lark last night."
"Well, what do you want to see me about, then?" questioned Dave. He could readily see that the bully had something on his mind which troubled him greatly.
"I think we might as well come to terms – you keep still and I'll keep still."
"I haven't said anything, Plum."
"Yes, but you might, later on, you know. I – that is, let us make a sure thing of this," stammered the bully.
"What are you driving at, Plum? Talk out straight."
"I will." The bully looked around, to make certain that nobody was within hearing distance. "You're a poor boy, Porter, aren't you?"
"I admit it."
"Just so. And, being poor, some pocket money comes in mighty handy at times, doesn't it?"
"I have some spending money."
"But not as much as you'd like; ain't that so?"
"Oh, I could spend more – if I had it," answered Dave, trying to find out what the other was driving at.
"Well, supposing I promised to give you some money to spend, Porter, how would that strike you?"
Dave was astonished, the suggestion was so entirely unexpected. But he tried not to show his feelings.
"Would you give me money, Gus?" he asked, calmly.
"Yes, I would – if you'd only promise to keep quiet."
"How much?"
"Well – I – er – I'd do the right thing. Did Phil Lawrence see me on the river?"
"No."
"Any of the other boys?"
"Not that I know of."
"Then you were alone." Gus Plum drew a sigh of relief. "Now, let us come to terms, by all means. I'll do the square thing, and you'll have all the pocket money you want."
"But how much are you willing to give me?" queried Dave, his curiosity aroused to its highest pitch.
"I'll give you" – the bully paused, to add impressiveness to his words – "I'll give you fifty dollars."
"Fifty dollars!" ejaculated Dave. He was bewildered by the answer. He had expected Plum to name a dollar or two at the most.
"Ain't that enough?"
"Do you think it is enough?" asked the country boy. He scarcely knew what to say. He was trying to study the bully's face.
"Well – er – if you'll give me your solemn word not to whisper a word – not a word, remember – I'll make it a – a hundred dollars."
"You'll give me a hundred dollars? When?"
"Before the end of the week. I haven't the money now, but, if you want it, I can give you ten dollars on account – just to bind the bargain," and the bully drew two five-dollar bills from his vest pocket. "But, remember, mum's the word – no matter what comes."
He thrust the bills at Dave, who merely looked at them. Then the country boy drew himself up.
"I don't want a cent of your money, Gus Plum," he said, in a low, but firm, voice. "You can't bribe me, no matter what you offer."
The bully dropped back and his face fell. He put his money back into his pocket. Then he glared savagely at Dave.
"Then you won't come to terms!" he fairly hissed between his teeth.
"No."
"You had better. If you dare to tell on me – breathe a word of what you saw that night – I'll – I'll make it so hot for you that you'll wish you had never been born! I am not going to let a country jay like you ruin me! Not much! You think twice before you make a move! I can hurt you in a way you least expect, and if I have to leave this school, you'll have to go, too!" And shaking his fist at Dave, Gus Plum strode off, leaving Dave more mystified than ever before.
CHAPTER VIII
SHADOW HAMILTON'S CONFESSION
"I simply can't understand it, Phil. Gus Plum was frightened very much, or he would never have offered me a hundred dollars to keep quiet."
Dave and his chum were strolling along the edge of the campus, an hour after the conversation recorded in the last chapter. The boy from the poorhouse had told Phil all that had occurred.
"It is certainly the most mysterious thing I ever heard of, outside of this mystery about Billy Dill," answered Phil. "Plum has been up to something wrong, but just what, remains to be found out."
"And what about Shadow Hamilton?"
"I can't say anything about Shadow. I never thought he would do anything that wasn't right."
"Nor I. What would you advise?"
"Keep quiet and await developments. Something is bound to come to the surface, sooner or later."
"Hello, you fellows, where are you bound?" came in a cry, and looking up they saw a well-known form approaching.
"Ben!" cried Dave, rushing up to the newcomer and shaking hands warmly. "When did you come in? And how are all the folks at Crumville? Did you happen to see Professor Potts and the Wadsworths?"
"One question at a time, please," answered Ben Basswood, as he shook hands with Phil. "Yes, I saw them all, and everybody wants to be remembered to you. Jessie sends her very sweetest regards – "
"Oh, come now, no fooling," interrupted Dave, blushing furiously. "Tell us the plain truth."
"Well, she sent her best regard, anyway. And all the others did the same. The professor is getting along finely. You'd hardly know him now, he looks so hale and hearty. It did him a world of good to go to live with the Wadsworths."
"You must have had a pretty nice vacation," observed Phil.
"Yes, although it was rather short. But, say, have you fellows heard about Plum's father?" went on Ben Basswood, earnestly.
"We've heard that he lost some money."
"Yes, and he has tied himself up in some sort of underhanded get-rich-quick concern, and I understand some folks are going to sue him for all he is worth. That will be rather rough on Gus – if his father loses all his money."
"True enough," said Dave. "But tell us all the news," he continued, and then Ben related the particulars of affairs at Crumville, and of a legal fight between his father and Mr. Aaron Poole, in which Mr. Basswood had won.
"That will make Nat more sour on you than ever," observed Phil.
"Maybe; but I can't help it. If he leaves me alone I'll leave him alone."
The
