During the following week only one bicycle was reported missing. Whether this was due to the vigilance of the Vigilantes or to the fact that owners had pretty well learned their lesson and no longer parked their wheels beside the curb2 without locking them was a question. In any case, the papers commented favorably, praised the Vigilantes and the Police Department—all save the Evening Star,[60] which, opposed to the present city administration, inquired loudly why the police neither apprehended3 the thieves nor recovered any of the stolen property. Sam Sawyer was very full of the honor of his position of second chief of the Vigilantes and took his duties very seriously. To Joe he confided4 that, while the society had not so far actually caused any arrests or returned any stolen bicycles to their owners, it had undoubtedly5 to be credited with the sudden cessation of theft. With nearly a hundred fellows around the streets watching constantly, he pointed6 out there wasn’t much chance for the robbers.
The following Monday the papers announced that between Saturday evening and midnight on Sunday eleven complaints of bicycle thefts had reached police headquarters! Some bicycles had been stolen—locks and all—from the curb, some had been taken from yards and porches and one, belonging to a minister on the outskirts7 of town, had been removed from the church vestibule! The Courier had an impassioned editorial that morning on the subject of the revival8 of crime and the Star gloated and howled in big black headings and pointed an accusing finger in direction of Police Headquarters. Somewhat to his disappointment, Joe did not encounter Sam that day. Of course Joe deplored9 the thefts and was sorry for those who had lost their wheels, but he[61] was only human, and he was a little bit huffed because he had not been admitted to the Vigilantes.
It was nearly closing time on Tuesday when Burke, the store manager at the Central City Market, sought Joe in the shipping10 room. “There’s an order to go out to the North Side, Joe. None of the teams is going that way, so you’d better hustle11 out on your wheel. The name’s Jordan. Smithy’s putting it up now.”
Joe nodded. He didn’t relish12 the errand, however, for it had been raining all day and was still at it, and the North Side streets were none too good under the best of weather conditions. But he made no protest and sought Smithy. The address on the slip read “W. H. Jordan, Orcutt Road, 1 h’se beyond Drayton place.” Joe had to look in the directory in the office before he could locate Orcutt Road. The directory informed him that it ran west from Line Street in Bowker’s Addition. With such meager13 intelligence he set forth14 at a few minutes past five, his carrier weighted down with bundles.
It was a good twenty minutes journey to Line Street, the latter part of it through a dejected and even unsavory part of town, and, having reached that street, an unpaved thoroughfare sparsely15 inhabited by truck farmers in a small way, he sought further enlightenment. It was still raining desultorily16 and the street was deserted17 by pedestrians18.[62] Finally he leaned his bicycle against a rickety fence and pushed through a gate beyond which a small dwelling19, built largely of second-hand20 material, showed in the early twilight21. The man who cautiously, even suspiciously, opened the unpainted door to him, proved to be Italian, and Joe had much difficulty in making his wants known. In the end, however, he learned that Orcutt Road was nearly a half-mile further on. The road was a veritable quagmire22 now, and he was frequently forced to dismount and push his bicycle through the muddy pools and over the uneven23 roadbed. Even the dwellings24 of the truck farmers ceased presently and the road—Joe had long since stopped referring to it as a street—stretched interminably away before him toward the darkening horizon with little to break its monotony save an occasional tree or group of bedraggled bushes. Eventually, though, a tumble-down farmhouse25 came into sight from under a slope of field well away from the road, and Joe decided26 that it must be the Drayton place. If it was, Orcutt Road could not be much further. Nor was it. Some fifty yards beyond the falling gate giving on to the farmhouse lane, an ill-defined wagon27 track led to the right and at its junction28 with the road a leaning post held a board bearing the nearly illegible29 inscription30: “Orcutt Road.” Joe gave up the idea of riding the bicycle any further and detached[63] the laden31 carrier and set it on his shoulder. The Jordan residence was further along the grass-grown track than he had supposed, and he had to shift his burden more than once before the house came into sight.
It was a very humble32 dwelling, low, ancient, weathered, half hidden by a plantation33 of tall poplars doubtless planted many years ago as a windbreak. There were several outbuildings visible, all quite as unkept as the house itself. In one of them a light burned feebly, a lemon-yellow radiance in the gathering34 gloom. In the house there appeared to be no light at all until having turned from the uncertain road, he crossed a patch of grass and drew nearer. Then three things happened almost simultaneously35: a dog barked ferociously36 from the direction of the house, a voice challenged from nearer at hand and a light sprang dimly into sight behind the narrow sidelights of the entrance.
“You from the store?” asked the voice.
A dark form sprang suddenly into view a dozen paces away and approached. So did the dog, a big black nondescript who growled37 menacingly as he bounded forward. “Get out o’ here, Gyp! Beat it or I’ll bounce a brick off your bean!” commanded the voice compellingly. Gyp stopped growling38 and began to sniff39 instead, circling around the visitor at a few yards’ distance.
[64]
“I’ve got an order here from the Central City Market for Jordan,” said Joe. “All right?”
“Sure,” answered the other. “Give it to me.” He proved to be a boy some two years older than Joe; perhaps eighteen. He was tall and broad-shouldered and uncouth40. His clothes seemed too large for him and fell into strange wrinkles as he stepped close to take the wire basket. He wore no hat, and Joe found the fact oddly worrying him for the instant. Then, as he yielded the carrier and said, “Four dollars and thirty cents to pay, please,” he knew why.
“All right,” said the boy gruffly in his unpleasant voice, and started toward the rear of the house, Joe was following more slowly when the other turned. “You wait here,” he said in a threatening tone. “Watch him, Gyp.”
The dog growled and Joe stopped very still. For several minutes boy and dog stared at each other there in the rain and gloom, but Joe didn’t see Gyp at all. He saw, instead, a figure in a dark slouch hat bending over the handlebars of a shining purple bicycle, and although the hat was now wanting, he knew beyond the possibility of any doubt that the youth on the bicycle and the unpleasant-voiced boy who had disappeared beyond the corner of the house were one and the same.
His thoughts were interrupted by the return of[65] the boy with the empty carrier and the money. “Here you are, kid,” he grunted41. “Now beat it.”
“Guess I’d better,” said Joe pleasantly. “It’s a long way out here, isn’t it? Gee42, I was nearly bogged43 down getting along that road!”
“Well, why didn’t they send a team then?” demanded the other.
“There wasn’t any of them coming this way to-day. That’s a nice dog you’ve got,” Joe snapped his fingers invitingly44, but Gyp only growled deeply. “Is he cross?”
“He don’t take to strangers,” answered the other gruffly. “Come here, Gyp. I’ll look after him till you’re out o’ the way, kid. Better get a move on.”
“All right. Good night,” said Joe. He turned back across the ragged45 and sodden46 lawn and gained the road. There he dared one brief backward look. Boy and dog still stood where he had left them, unmoving, silent, two dark forms in the falling darkness. The light in the house had gone, but that in one of the outbuildings—possibly a stable—had increased in brilliancy. Against its radiance a figure—two figures—moved, coming and going from sight across the square opening of a wide doorway47. Then Joe brought his eyes back to the uneven road and floundered on toward the road and his bicycle.
His thoughts were very busy indeed as he pushed and pedaled his way home.
[66]
It was quite dark by the time he swung into his own street, and the infrequent lights left pockets of gloom between them. It was in one of these that a voice came to Joe above the swishing sound of his tires on the wet asphalt.
“Hey!” said the voice imperatively48. “Hold up!”
Joe obeyed, coming to a halt as a dark figure detached itself from the deeper darkness across the street. The figure resolved itself into the burly form of a policeman who, joining the boy, peered suspiciously from him to the bicycle.
“What’s it?” asked Joe.
“Whose wheel is that?” demanded the officer gruffly.
“Mine,” replied Joe. “That is, it belongs to Donaldson and Burns. They let me use it.”
“What’s your name? Where do you live?”
Joe told him, explaining his errand and indicating the wire carrier as confirmatory evidence, and the officer grunted as though satisfied and went on. So did Joe, arriving home a minute later very wet and very hungry; and also secretly rather excited. He had difficulty getting to sleep that night.
The next morning three more bicycles were reported stolen and the papers carried an advertisement inserted by a hastily formed “Bicycle Dealers’ Association” offering a reward of one hundred dollars for information leading to the apprehension[67] and conviction of the thieves. Joe read that notice with a deal of interest. He would have liked a partner in his contemplated49 enterprise, but the only fellow he could think of was Sam, and there were reasons why Sam wouldn’t answer.
When he reached the store Joe sought Mr. Burke and asked to be allowed to leave a half hour earlier to-day. The manager objected from force of habit, but finally consented. At half-past four Joe begged some meat trimmings from the hand butcher, detached the parcel carrier from his bicycle and set off.
The afternoon was cloudy and chill, but rainless, as he followed his route of yesterday to within sight of the Drayton farm. There he concealed50 his wheel in a clump51 of bushes, climbed the fence and found himself in a meadow through which a dry brook52 meandered53. It was still broad daylight and the problem of reaching the Jordan place unseen looked difficult. He dropped into the brook, however, and, well hunched54 over, began a cautious journey. The brook crossed the meadow by many turns toward a group of tumble-down outbuildings well away from the Drayton house. Reaching them at last, unchallenged, he abandoned concealment55 and passed behind them toward a fence a hundred yards distant. The fence was overgrown on both sides with trees and bushes and he had trouble breaking through. But when he had he was rewarded. A[68] quarter of a mile away to his left the Jordan house was in sight beyond a corner of the clustered outbuildings and between him and the latter stood a neglected orchard56 overgrown with tall weeds and littered with dead branches. Before proceeding57 he reassured58 himself by feeling of the packet of meat in his pocket. He was in far greater awe59 of Gyp than any of the human denizens60.
Traversing the orchard was like playing Indian. Joe dodged61 from one tree to another, watching sharply the while. As he neared the outbuildings a sound reached him such as might be made by tapping a metal bar with a hammer, and although it ceased almost at once it proved that someone was close at hand, probably in that shed where he had yesterday seen forms moving to and fro. What he most dreaded62 to hear, the challenging bark of Gyp, didn’t disturb him. Behind the stable and sheds, which now completely hid the dwelling, lay a mass of discarded farm machinery63, lumber64 and miscellaneous rubbish half hidden by grass and bushes. Three windows stared across at him. Of these, two were in the shed in the middle, perhaps once a carriage house, and the third, high up, was in the building on the extreme left. The stable, at the right of the row, was windowless at its rear. Joe was certain that the center building was the one in which he was to find an answer to his problem, and that[69] the answer would come to him by means of one of its two windows. To reach it, however, he must cross a good twenty yards of open space, and, while the shadows were gathering, it was not yet even twilight, and he hoped devoutly65 that no one—least of all Gyp—would be looking his way!
Of course he could wait for darkness, but then the shed might be deserted and unlighted and he would discover nothing. No, it was best to go ahead now and chance it. If he was discovered and pursued he could, he thought, trust his legs to get him out of danger. Taking a deep breath, he bent66 low and ran.
点击收听单词发音
1 briefly | |
adv.简单地,简短地 | |
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2 curb | |
n.场外证券市场,场外交易;vt.制止,抑制 | |
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3 apprehended | |
逮捕,拘押( apprehend的过去式和过去分词 ); 理解 | |
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4 confided | |
v.吐露(秘密,心事等)( confide的过去式和过去分词 );(向某人)吐露(隐私、秘密等) | |
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5 undoubtedly | |
adv.确实地,无疑地 | |
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6 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
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7 outskirts | |
n.郊外,郊区 | |
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8 revival | |
n.复兴,复苏,(精力、活力等的)重振 | |
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9 deplored | |
v.悲叹,痛惜,强烈反对( deplore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10 shipping | |
n.船运(发货,运输,乘船) | |
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11 hustle | |
v.推搡;竭力兜售或获取;催促;n.奔忙(碌) | |
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12 relish | |
n.滋味,享受,爱好,调味品;vt.加调味料,享受,品味;vi.有滋味 | |
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13 meager | |
adj.缺乏的,不足的,瘦的 | |
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14 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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15 sparsely | |
adv.稀疏地;稀少地;不足地;贫乏地 | |
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16 desultorily | |
adv. 杂乱无章地, 散漫地 | |
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17 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
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18 pedestrians | |
n.步行者( pedestrian的名词复数 ) | |
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19 dwelling | |
n.住宅,住所,寓所 | |
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20 second-hand | |
adj.用过的,旧的,二手的 | |
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21 twilight | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
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22 quagmire | |
n.沼地 | |
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23 uneven | |
adj.不平坦的,不规则的,不均匀的 | |
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24 dwellings | |
n.住处,处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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25 farmhouse | |
n.农场住宅(尤指主要住房) | |
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26 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
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27 wagon | |
n.四轮马车,手推车,面包车;无盖运货列车 | |
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28 junction | |
n.连接,接合;交叉点,接合处,枢纽站 | |
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29 illegible | |
adj.难以辨认的,字迹模糊的 | |
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30 inscription | |
n.(尤指石块上的)刻印文字,铭文,碑文 | |
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31 laden | |
adj.装满了的;充满了的;负了重担的;苦恼的 | |
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32 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
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33 plantation | |
n.种植园,大农场 | |
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34 gathering | |
n.集会,聚会,聚集 | |
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35 simultaneously | |
adv.同时发生地,同时进行地 | |
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36 ferociously | |
野蛮地,残忍地 | |
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37 growled | |
v.(动物)发狺狺声, (雷)作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 );低声咆哮着说 | |
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38 growling | |
n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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39 sniff | |
vi.嗅…味道;抽鼻涕;对嗤之以鼻,蔑视 | |
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40 uncouth | |
adj.无教养的,粗鲁的 | |
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41 grunted | |
(猪等)作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 ); (指人)发出类似的哼声; 咕哝着说 | |
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42 gee | |
n.马;int.向右!前进!,惊讶时所发声音;v.向右转 | |
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43 bogged | |
adj.陷于泥沼的v.(使)陷入泥沼, (使)陷入困境( bog的过去式和过去分词 );妨碍,阻碍 | |
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44 invitingly | |
adv. 动人地 | |
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45 ragged | |
adj.衣衫褴褛的,粗糙的,刺耳的 | |
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46 sodden | |
adj.浑身湿透的;v.使浸透;使呆头呆脑 | |
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47 doorway | |
n.门口,(喻)入门;门路,途径 | |
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48 imperatively | |
adv.命令式地 | |
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49 contemplated | |
adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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50 concealed | |
a.隐藏的,隐蔽的 | |
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51 clump | |
n.树丛,草丛;vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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52 brook | |
n.小河,溪;v.忍受,容让 | |
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53 meandered | |
(指溪流、河流等)蜿蜒而流( meander的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54 hunched | |
(常指因寒冷、生病或愁苦)耸肩弓身的,伏首前倾的 | |
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55 concealment | |
n.隐藏, 掩盖,隐瞒 | |
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56 orchard | |
n.果园,果园里的全部果树,(美俚)棒球场 | |
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57 proceeding | |
n.行动,进行,(pl.)会议录,学报 | |
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58 reassured | |
adj.使消除疑虑的;使放心的v.再保证,恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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59 awe | |
n.敬畏,惊惧;vt.使敬畏,使惊惧 | |
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60 denizens | |
n.居民,住户( denizen的名词复数 ) | |
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61 dodged | |
v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 );回避 | |
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62 dreaded | |
adj.令人畏惧的;害怕的v.害怕,恐惧,担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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63 machinery | |
n.(总称)机械,机器;机构 | |
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64 lumber | |
n.木材,木料;v.以破旧东西堆满;伐木;笨重移动 | |
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65 devoutly | |
adv.虔诚地,虔敬地,衷心地 | |
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66 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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