summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
path: root/old/trhim10h.htm
blob: ff665f2d80b9a25dca0d0222f0a4a9cfc19f5ee4 (plain) 
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
648
649
650
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675
676
677
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760
761
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811
812
813
814
815
816
817
818
819
820
821
822
823
824
825
826
827
828
829
830
831
832
833
834
835
836
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854
855
856
857
858
859
860
861
862
863
864
865
866
867
868
869
870
871
872
873
874
875
876
877
878
879
880
881
882
883
884
885
886
887
888
889
890
891
892
893
894
895
896
897
898
899
900
901
902
903
904
905
906
907
908
909
910
911
912
913
914
915
916
917
918
919
920
921
922
923
924
925
926
927
928
929
930
931
932
933
934
935
936
937
938
939
940
941
942
943
944
945
946
947
948
949
950
951
952
953
954
955
956
957
958
959
960
961
962
963
964
965
966
967
968
969
970
971
972
973
974
975
976
977
978
979
980
981
982
983
984
985
986
987
988
989
990
991
992
993
994
995
996
997
998
999
1000
1001
1002
1003
1004
1005
1006
1007
1008
1009
1010
1011
1012
1013
1014
1015
1016
1017
1018
1019
1020
1021
1022
1023
1024
1025
1026
1027
1028
1029
1030
1031
1032
1033
1034
1035
1036
1037
1038
1039
1040
1041
1042
1043
1044
1045
1046
1047
1048
1049
1050
1051
1052
1053
1054
1055
1056
1057
1058
1059
1060
1061
1062
1063
1064
1065
1066
1067
1068
1069
1070
1071
1072
1073
1074
1075
1076
1077
1078
1079
1080
1081
1082
1083
1084
1085
1086
1087
1088
1089
1090
1091
1092
1093
1094
1095
1096
1097
1098
1099
1100
1101
1102
1103
1104
1105
1106
1107
1108
1109
1110
1111
1112
1113
1114
1115
1116
1117
1118
1119
1120
1121
1122
1123
1124
1125
1126
1127
1128
1129
1130
1131
1132
1133
1134
1135
1136
1137
1138
1139
1140
1141
1142
1143
1144
1145
1146
1147
1148
1149
1150
1151
1152
1153
1154
1155
1156
1157
1158
1159
1160
1161
1162
1163
1164
1165
1166
1167
1168
1169
1170
1171
1172
1173
1174
1175
1176
1177
1178
1179
1180
1181
1182
1183
1184
1185
1186
1187
1188
1189
1190
1191
1192
1193
1194
1195
1196
1197
1198
1199
1200
1201
1202
1203
1204
1205
1206
1207
1208
1209
1210
1211
1212
1213
1214
1215
1216
1217
1218
1219
1220
1221
1222
1223
1224
1225
1226
1227
1228
1229
1230
1231
1232
1233
1234
1235
1236
1237
1238
1239
1240
1241
1242
1243
1244
1245
1246
1247
1248
1249
1250
1251
1252
1253
1254
1255
1256
1257
1258
1259
1260
1261
1262
1263
1264
1265
1266
1267
1268
1269
1270
1271
1272
1273
1274
1275
1276
1277
1278
1279
1280
1281
1282
1283
1284
1285
1286
1287
1288
1289
1290
1291
1292
1293
1294
1295
1296
1297
1298
1299
1300
1301
1302
1303
1304
1305
1306
1307
1308
1309
1310
1311
1312
1313
1314
1315
1316
1317
1318
1319
1320
1321
1322
1323
1324
1325
1326
1327
1328
1329
1330
1331
1332
1333
1334
1335
1336
1337
1338
1339
1340
1341
1342
1343
1344
1345
1346
1347
1348
1349
1350
1351
1352
1353
1354
1355
1356
1357
1358
1359
1360
1361
1362
1363
1364
1365
1366
1367
1368
1369
1370
1371
1372
1373
1374
1375
1376
1377
1378
1379
1380
1381
1382
1383
1384
1385
1386
1387
1388
1389
1390
1391
1392
1393
1394
1395
1396
1397
1398
1399
1400
1401
1402
1403
1404
1405
1406
1407
1408
1409
1410
1411
1412
1413
1414
1415
1416
1417
1418
1419
1420
1421
1422
1423
1424
1425
1426
1427
1428
1429
1430
1431
1432
1433
1434
1435
1436
1437
1438
1439
1440
1441
1442
1443
1444
1445
1446
1447
1448
1449
1450
1451
1452
1453
1454
1455
1456
1457
1458
1459
1460
1461
1462
1463
1464
1465
1466
1467
1468
1469
1470
1471
1472
1473
1474
1475
1476
1477
1478
1479
1480
1481
1482
1483
1484
1485
1486
1487
1488
1489
1490
1491
1492
1493
1494
1495
1496
1497
1498
1499
1500
1501
1502
1503
1504
1505
1506
1507
1508
1509
1510
1511
1512
1513
1514
1515
1516
1517
1518
1519
1520
1521
1522
1523
1524
1525
1526
1527
1528
1529
1530
1531
1532
1533
1534
1535
1536
1537
1538
1539
1540
1541
1542
1543
1544
1545
1546
1547
1548
1549
1550
1551
1552
1553
1554
1555
1556
1557
1558
1559
1560
1561
1562
1563
1564
1565
1566
1567
1568
1569
1570
1571
1572
1573
1574
1575
1576
1577
1578
1579
1580
1581
1582
1583
1584
1585
1586
1587
1588
1589
1590
1591
1592
1593
1594
1595
1596
1597
1598
1599
1600
1601
1602
1603
1604
1605
1606
1607
1608
1609
1610
1611
1612
1613
1614
1615
1616
1617
1618
1619
1620
1621
1622
1623
1624
1625
1626
1627
1628
1629
1630
1631
1632
1633
1634
1635
1636
1637
1638
1639
1640
1641
1642
1643
1644
1645
1646
1647
1648
1649
1650
1651
1652
1653
1654
1655
1656
1657
1658
1659
1660
1661
1662
1663
1664
1665
1666
1667
1668
1669
1670
1671
1672
1673
1674
1675
1676
1677
1678
1679
1680
1681
1682
1683
1684
1685
1686
1687
1688
1689
1690
1691
1692
1693
1694
1695
1696
1697
1698
1699
1700
1701
1702
1703
1704
1705
1706
1707
1708
1709
1710
1711
1712
1713
1714
1715
1716
1717
1718
1719
1720
1721
1722
1723
1724
1725
1726
1727
1728
1729
1730
1731
1732
1733
1734
1735
1736
1737
1738
1739
1740
1741
1742
1743
1744
1745
1746
1747
1748
1749
1750
1751
1752
1753
1754
1755
1756
1757
1758
1759
1760
1761
1762
1763
1764
1765
1766
1767
1768
1769
1770
1771
1772
1773
1774
1775
1776
1777
1778
1779
1780
1781
1782
1783
1784
1785
1786
1787
1788
1789
1790
1791
1792
1793
1794
1795
1796
1797
1798
1799
1800
1801
1802
1803
1804
1805
1806
1807
1808
1809
1810
1811
1812
1813
1814
1815
1816
1817
1818
1819
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
1826
1827
1828
1829
1830
1831
1832
1833
1834
1835
1836
1837
1838
1839
1840
1841
1842
1843
1844
1845
1846
1847
1848
1849
1850
1851
1852
1853
1854
1855
1856
1857
1858
1859
1860
1861
1862
1863
1864
1865
1866
1867
1868
1869
1870
1871
1872
1873
1874
1875
1876
1877
1878
1879
1880
1881
1882
1883
1884
1885
1886
1887
1888
1889
1890
1891
1892
1893
1894
1895
1896
1897
1898
1899
1900
1901
1902
1903
1904
1905
1906
1907
1908
1909
1910
1911
1912
1913
1914
1915
1916
1917
1918
1919
1920
1921
1922
1923
1924
1925
1926
1927
1928
1929
1930
1931
1932
1933
1934
1935
1936
1937
1938
1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
1946
1947
1948
1949
1950
1951
1952
1953
1954
1955
1956
1957
1958
1959
1960
1961
1962
1963
1964
1965
1966
1967
1968
1969
1970
1971
1972
1973
1974
1975
1976
1977
1978
1979
1980
1981
1982
1983
1984
1985
1986
1987
1988
1989
1990
1991
1992
1993
1994
1995
1996
1997
1998
1999
2000
2001
2002
2003
2004
2005
2006
2007
2008
2009
2010
2011
2012
2013
2014
2015
2016
2017
2018
2019
2020
2021
2022
2023
2024
2025
2026
2027
2028
2029
2030
2031
2032
2033
2034
2035
2036
2037
2038
2039
2040
2041
2042
2043
2044
2045
2046
2047
2048
2049
2050
2051
2052
2053
2054
2055
2056
2057
2058
2059
2060
2061
2062
2063
2064
2065
2066
2067
2068
2069
2070
2071
2072
2073
2074
2075
2076
2077
2078
2079
2080
2081
2082
2083
2084
2085
2086
2087
2088
2089
2090
2091
2092
2093
2094
2095
2096
2097
2098
2099
2100
2101
2102
2103
2104
2105
2106
2107
2108
2109
2110
2111
2112
2113
2114
2115
2116
2117
2118
2119
2120
2121
2122
2123
2124
2125
2126
2127
2128
2129
2130
2131
2132
2133
2134
2135
2136
2137
2138
2139
2140
2141
2142
2143
2144
2145
2146
2147
2148
2149
2150
2151
2152
2153
2154
2155
2156
2157
2158
2159
2160
2161
2162
2163
2164
2165
2166
2167
2168
2169
2170
2171
2172
2173
2174
2175
2176
2177
2178
2179
2180
2181
2182
2183
2184
2185
2186
2187
2188
2189
2190
2191
2192
2193
2194
2195
2196
2197
2198
2199
2200
2201
2202
2203
2204
2205
2206
2207
2208
2209
2210
2211
2212
2213
2214
2215
2216
2217
2218
2219
2220
2221
2222
2223
2224
2225
2226
2227
2228
2229
2230
2231
2232
2233
2234
2235
2236
2237
2238
2239
2240
2241
2242
2243
2244
2245
2246
2247
2248
2249
2250
2251
2252
2253
2254
2255
2256
2257
2258
2259
2260
2261
2262
2263
2264
2265
2266
2267
2268
2269
2270
2271
2272
2273
2274
2275
2276
2277
2278
2279
2280
2281
2282
2283
2284
2285
2286
2287
2288
2289
2290
2291
2292
2293
2294
2295
2296
2297
2298
2299
2300
2301
2302
2303
2304
2305
2306
2307
2308
2309
2310
2311
2312
2313
2314
2315
2316
2317
2318
2319
2320
2321
2322
2323
2324
2325
2326
2327
2328
2329
2330
2331
2332
2333
2334
2335
2336
2337
2338
2339
2340
2341
2342
2343
2344
2345
2346
2347
2348
2349
2350
2351
2352
2353
2354
2355
2356
2357
2358
2359
2360
2361
2362
2363
2364
2365
2366
2367
2368
2369
2370
2371
2372
2373
2374
2375
2376
2377
2378
2379
2380
2381
2382
2383
2384
2385
2386
2387
2388
2389
2390
2391
2392
2393
2394
2395
2396
2397
2398
2399
2400
2401
2402
2403
2404
2405
2406
2407
2408
2409
2410
2411
2412
2413
2414
2415
2416
2417
2418
2419
2420
2421
2422
2423
2424
2425
2426
2427
2428
2429
2430
2431
2432
2433
2434
2435
2436
2437
2438
2439
2440
2441
2442
2443
2444
2445
2446
2447
2448
2449
2450
2451
2452
2453
2454
2455
2456
2457
2458
2459
2460
2461
2462
2463
2464
2465
2466
2467
2468
2469
2470
2471
2472
2473
2474
2475
2476
2477
2478
2479
2480
2481
2482
2483
2484
2485
2486
2487
2488
2489
2490
2491
2492
2493
2494
2495
2496
2497
2498
2499
2500
2501
2502
2503
2504
2505
2506
2507
2508
2509
2510
2511
2512
2513
2514
2515
2516
2517
2518
2519
2520
2521
2522
2523
2524
2525
2526
2527
2528
2529
2530
2531
2532
2533
2534
2535
2536
2537
2538
2539
2540
2541
2542
2543
2544
2545
2546
2547
2548
2549
2550
2551
2552
2553
2554
2555
2556
2557
2558
2559
2560
2561
2562
2563
2564
2565
2566
2567
2568
2569
2570
2571
2572
2573
2574
2575
2576
2577
2578
2579
2580
2581
2582
2583
2584
2585
2586
2587
2588
2589
2590
2591
2592
2593
2594
2595
2596
2597
2598
2599
2600
2601
2602
2603
2604
2605
2606
2607
2608
2609
2610
2611
2612
2613
2614
2615
2616
2617
2618
2619
2620
2621
2622
2623
2624
2625
2626
2627
2628
2629
2630
2631
2632
2633
2634
2635
2636
2637
2638
2639
2640
2641
2642
2643
2644
2645
2646
2647
2648
2649
2650
2651
2652
2653
2654
2655
2656
2657
2658
2659
2660
2661
2662
2663
2664
2665
2666
2667
2668
2669
2670
2671
2672
2673
2674
2675
2676
2677
2678
2679
2680
2681
2682
2683
2684
2685
2686
2687
2688
2689
2690
2691
2692
2693
2694
2695
2696
2697
2698
2699
2700
2701
2702
2703
2704
2705
2706
2707
2708
2709
2710
2711
2712
2713
2714
2715
2716
2717
2718
2719
2720
2721
2722
2723
2724
2725
2726
2727
2728
2729
2730
2731
2732
2733
2734
2735
2736
2737
2738
2739
2740
2741
2742
2743
2744
2745
2746
2747
2748
2749
2750
2751
2752
2753
2754
2755
2756
2757
2758
2759
2760
2761
2762
2763
2764
2765
2766
2767
2768
2769
2770
2771
2772
2773
2774
2775
2776
2777
2778
2779
2780
2781
2782
2783
2784
2785
2786
2787
2788
2789
2790
2791
2792
2793
2794
2795
2796
2797
2798
2799
2800
2801
2802
2803
2804
2805
2806
2807
2808
2809
2810
2811
2812
2813
2814
2815
2816
2817
2818
2819
2820
2821
2822
2823
2824
2825
2826
2827
2828
2829
2830
2831
2832
2833
2834
2835
2836
2837
2838
2839
2840
2841
2842
2843
2844
2845
2846
2847
2848
2849
2850
2851
2852
2853
2854
2855
2856
2857
2858
2859
2860
2861
2862
2863
2864
2865
2866
2867
2868
2869
2870
2871
2872
2873
2874
2875
2876
2877
2878
2879
2880
2881
2882
2883
2884
2885
2886
2887
2888
2889
2890
2891
2892
2893
2894
2895
2896
2897
2898
2899
2900
2901
2902
2903
2904
2905
2906
2907
2908
2909
2910
2911
2912
2913
2914
2915
2916
2917
2918
2919
2920
2921
2922
2923
2924
2925
2926
2927
2928
2929
2930
2931
2932
2933
2934
2935
2936
2937
2938
2939
2940
2941
2942
2943
2944
2945
2946
2947
2948
2949
2950
2951
2952
2953
2954
2955
2956
2957
2958
2959
2960
2961
2962
2963
2964
2965
2966
2967
2968
2969
2970
2971
2972
2973
2974
2975
2976
2977
2978
2979
2980
2981
2982
2983
2984
2985
2986
2987
2988
2989
2990
2991
2992
2993
2994
2995
2996
2997
2998
2999
3000
3001
3002
3003
3004
3005
3006
3007
3008
3009
3010
3011
3012
3013
3014
3015
3016
3017
3018
3019
3020
3021
3022
3023
3024
3025
3026
3027
3028
3029
3030
3031
3032
3033
3034
3035
3036
3037
3038
3039
3040
3041
3042
3043
3044
3045
3046
3047
3048
3049
3050
3051
3052
3053
3054
3055
3056
3057
3058
3059
3060
3061
3062
3063
3064
3065
3066
3067
3068
3069
3070
3071
3072
3073
3074
3075
3076
3077
3078
3079
3080
3081
3082
3083
3084
3085
3086
3087
3088
3089
3090
3091
3092
3093
3094
3095
3096
3097
3098
3099
3100
3101
3102
3103
3104
3105
3106
3107
3108
3109
3110
3111
3112
3113
3114
3115
3116
3117
3118
3119
3120
3121
3122
3123
3124
3125
3126
3127
3128
3129
3130
3131
3132
3133
3134
3135
3136
3137
3138
3139
3140
3141
3142
3143
3144
3145
3146
3147
3148
3149
3150
3151
3152
3153
3154
3155
3156
3157
3158
3159
3160
3161
3162
3163
3164
3165
3166
3167
3168
3169
3170
3171
3172
3173
3174
3175
3176
3177
3178
3179
3180
3181
3182
3183
3184
3185
3186
3187
3188
3189
3190
3191
3192
3193
3194
3195
3196
3197
3198
3199
3200
3201
3202
3203
3204
3205
3206
3207
3208
3209
3210
3211
3212
3213
3214
3215
3216
3217
3218
3219
3220
3221
3222
3223
3224
3225
3226
3227
3228
3229
3230
3231
3232
3233
3234
3235
3236
3237
3238
3239
3240
3241
3242
3243
3244
3245
3246
3247
3248
3249
3250
3251
3252
3253
3254
3255
3256
3257
3258
3259
3260
3261
3262
3263
3264
3265
3266
3267
3268
3269
3270
3271
3272
3273
3274
3275
3276
3277
3278
3279
3280
3281
3282
3283
3284
3285
3286
3287
3288
3289
3290
3291
3292
3293
3294
3295
3296
3297
3298
3299
3300
3301
3302
3303
3304
3305
3306
3307
3308
3309
3310
3311
3312
3313
3314
3315
3316
3317
3318
3319
3320
3321
3322
3323
3324
3325
3326
3327
3328
3329
3330
3331
3332
3333
3334
3335
3336
3337
3338
3339
3340
3341
3342
3343
3344
3345
3346
3347
3348
3349
3350
3351
3352
3353
3354
3355
3356
3357
3358
3359
3360
3361
3362
3363
3364
3365
3366
3367
3368
3369
3370
3371
3372
3373
3374
3375
3376
3377
3378
3379
3380
3381
3382
3383
3384
3385
3386
3387
3388
3389
3390
3391
3392
3393
3394
3395
3396
3397
3398
3399
3400
3401
3402
3403
3404
3405
3406
3407
3408
3409
3410
3411
3412
3413
3414
3415
3416
3417
3418
3419
3420
3421
3422
3423
3424
3425
3426
3427
3428
3429
3430
3431
3432
3433
3434
3435
3436
3437
3438
3439
3440
3441
3442
3443
3444
3445
3446
3447
3448
3449
3450
3451
3452
3453
3454
3455
3456
3457
3458
3459
3460
3461
3462
3463
3464
3465
3466
3467
3468
3469
3470
3471
3472
3473
3474
3475
3476
3477
3478
3479
3480
3481
3482
3483
3484
3485
3486
3487
3488
3489
3490
3491
3492
3493
3494
3495
3496
3497
3498
3499
3500
3501
3502
3503
3504
3505
3506
3507
3508
3509
3510
3511
3512
3513
3514
3515
3516
3517
3518
3519
3520
3521
3522
3523
3524
3525
3526
3527
3528
3529
3530
3531
3532
3533
3534
3535
3536
3537
3538
3539
3540
3541
3542
3543
3544
3545
3546
3547
3548
3549
3550
3551
3552
3553
3554
3555
3556
3557
3558
3559
3560
3561
3562
3563
3564
3565
3566
3567
3568
3569
3570
3571
3572
3573
3574
3575
3576
3577
3578
3579
3580
3581
3582
3583
3584
3585
3586
3587
3588
3589
3590
3591
3592
3593
3594
3595
3596
3597
3598
3599
3600
3601
3602
3603
3604
3605
3606
3607
3608
3609
3610
3611
3612
3613
3614
3615
3616
3617
3618
3619
3620
3621
3622
3623
3624
3625
3626
3627
3628
3629
3630
3631
3632
3633
3634
3635
3636
3637
3638
3639
3640
3641
3642
3643
3644
3645
3646
3647
3648
3649
3650
3651
3652
3653
3654
3655
3656
3657
3658
3659
3660
3661
3662
3663
3664
3665
3666
3667
3668
3669
3670
3671
3672
3673
3674
3675
3676
3677
3678
3679
3680
3681
3682
3683
3684
3685
3686
3687
3688
3689
3690
3691
3692
3693
3694
3695
3696
3697
3698
3699
3700
3701
3702
3703
3704
3705
3706
3707
3708
3709
3710
3711
3712
3713
3714
3715
3716
3717
3718
3719
3720
3721
3722
3723
3724
3725
3726
3727
3728
3729
3730
3731
3732
3733
3734
3735
3736
3737
3738
3739
3740
3741
3742
3743
3744
3745
3746
3747
3748
3749
3750
3751
3752
3753
3754
3755
3756
3757
3758
3759
3760
3761
3762
3763
3764
3765
3766
3767
3768
3769
3770
3771
3772
3773
3774
3775
3776
3777
3778
3779
3780
3781
3782
3783
3784
3785
3786
3787
3788
3789
3790
3791
3792
3793
3794
3795
3796
3797
3798
3799
3800
3801
3802
3803
3804
3805
3806
3807
3808
3809
3810
3811
3812
3813
3814
3815
3816
3817
3818
3819
3820
3821
3822
3823
3824
3825
3826
3827
3828
3829
3830
3831
3832
3833
3834
3835
3836
3837
3838
3839
3840
3841
3842
3843
3844
3845
3846
3847
3848
3849
3850
3851
3852
3853
3854
3855
3856
3857
3858
3859
3860
3861
3862
3863
3864
3865
3866
3867
3868
3869
3870
3871
3872
3873
3874
3875
3876
3877
3878
3879
3880
3881
3882
3883
3884
3885
3886
3887
3888
3889
3890
3891
3892
3893
3894
3895
3896
3897
3898
3899
3900
3901
3902
3903
3904
3905
3906
3907
3908
3909
3910
3911
3912
3913
3914
3915
3916
3917
3918
3919
3920
3921
3922
3923
3924
3925
3926
3927
3928
3929
3930
3931
3932
3933
3934
3935
3936
3937
3938
3939
3940
3941
3942
3943
3944
3945
3946
3947
3948
3949
3950
3951
3952
3953
3954
3955
3956
3957
3958
3959
3960
3961
3962
3963
3964
3965
3966
3967
3968
3969
3970
3971
3972
3973
3974
3975
3976
3977
3978
3979
3980
3981
3982
3983
3984
3985
3986
3987
3988
3989
3990
3991
3992
3993
3994
3995
3996
3997
3998
3999
4000
4001
4002
4003
4004
4005
4006
4007
4008
4009
4010
4011
4012
4013
4014
4015
4016
4017
4018
4019
4020
4021
4022
4023
4024
4025
4026
4027
4028
4029
4030
4031
4032
4033
4034
4035
4036
4037
4038
4039
4040
4041
4042
4043
4044
4045
4046
4047
4048
4049
4050
4051
4052
4053
4054
4055
4056
4057
4058
4059
4060
4061
4062
4063
4064
4065
4066
4067
4068
4069
4070
4071
4072
4073
4074
4075
4076
4077
4078
4079
4080
4081
4082
4083
4084
4085
4086
4087
4088
4089
4090
4091
4092
4093
4094
4095
4096
4097
4098
4099
4100
4101
4102
4103
4104
4105
4106
4107
4108
4109
4110
4111
4112
4113
4114
4115
4116
4117
4118
4119
4120
4121
4122
4123
4124
4125
4126
4127
4128
4129
4130
4131
4132
4133
4134
4135
4136
4137
4138
4139
4140
4141
4142
4143
4144
4145
4146
4147
4148
4149
4150
4151
4152
4153
4154
4155
4156
4157
4158
4159
4160
4161
4162
4163
4164
4165
4166
4167
4168
4169
4170
4171
4172
4173
4174
4175
4176
4177
4178
4179
4180
4181
4182
4183
4184
4185
4186
4187
4188
4189
4190
4191
4192
4193
4194
4195
4196
4197
4198
4199
4200
4201
4202
4203
4204
4205
4206
4207
4208
4209
4210
4211
4212
4213
4214
4215
4216
4217
4218
4219
4220
4221
4222
4223
4224
4225
4226
4227
4228
4229
4230
4231
4232
4233
4234
4235
4236
4237
4238
4239
4240
4241
4242
4243
4244
4245
4246
4247
4248
4249
4250
4251
4252
4253
4254
4255
4256
4257
4258
4259
4260
4261
4262
4263
4264
4265
4266
4267
4268
4269
4270
4271
4272
4273
4274
4275
4276
4277
4278
4279
4280
4281
4282
4283
4284
4285
4286
4287
4288
4289
4290
4291
4292
4293
4294
4295
4296
4297
4298
4299
4300
4301
4302
4303
4304
4305
4306
4307
4308
4309
4310
4311
4312
4313
4314
4315
4316
4317
4318
4319
4320
4321
4322
4323
4324
4325
4326
4327
4328
4329
4330
4331
4332
4333
4334
4335
4336
4337
4338
4339
4340
4341
4342
4343
4344
4345
4346
4347
4348
4349
4350
4351
4352
4353
4354
4355
4356
4357
4358
4359
4360
4361
4362
4363
4364
4365
4366
4367
4368
4369
4370
4371
4372
4373
4374
4375
4376
4377
4378
4379
4380
4381
4382
4383
4384
4385
4386
4387
4388
4389
4390
4391
4392
4393
4394
4395
4396
4397
4398
4399
4400
4401
4402
4403
4404
4405
4406
4407
4408
4409
4410
4411
4412
4413
4414
4415
4416
4417
4418
4419
4420
4421
4422
4423
4424
4425
4426
4427
4428
4429
4430
4431
4432
4433
4434
4435
4436
4437
4438
4439
4440
4441
4442
4443
4444
4445
4446
4447
4448
4449
4450
4451
4452
4453
4454
4455
4456
4457
4458
4459
4460
4461
4462
4463
4464
4465
4466
4467
4468
4469
4470
4471
4472
4473
4474
4475
4476
4477
4478
4479
4480
4481
4482
4483
4484
4485
4486
4487
4488
4489
4490
4491
4492
4493
4494
4495
4496
4497
4498
4499
4500
4501
4502
4503
4504
4505
4506
4507
4508
4509
4510
4511
4512
4513
4514
4515
4516
4517
4518
4519
4520
4521
4522
4523
4524
4525
4526
4527
4528
4529
4530
4531
4532
4533
4534
4535
4536
4537
4538
4539
4540
4541
4542
4543
4544
4545
4546
4547
4548
4549
4550
4551
4552
4553
4554
4555
4556
4557
4558
4559
4560
4561
4562
4563
4564
4565
4566
4567
4568
4569
4570
4571
4572
4573
4574
4575
4576
4577
4578
4579
4580
4581
4582
4583
4584
4585
4586
4587
4588
4589
4590
4591
4592
4593
4594
4595
4596
4597
4598
4599
4600
4601
4602
4603
4604
4605
4606
4607
4608
4609
4610
4611
4612
4613
4614
4615
4616
4617
4618
4619
4620
4621
4622
4623
4624
4625
4626
4627
4628
4629
4630
4631
4632
4633
4634
4635
4636
4637
4638
4639
4640
4641
4642
4643
4644
4645
4646
4647
4648
4649
4650
4651
4652
4653
4654
4655
4656
4657
4658
4659
4660
4661
4662
4663
4664
4665
4666
4667
4668
4669
4670
4671
4672
4673
4674
4675
4676
4677
4678
4679
4680
4681
4682
4683
4684
4685
4686
4687
4688
4689
4690
4691
4692
4693
4694
4695
4696
4697
4698
4699
4700
4701
4702
4703
4704
4705
4706
4707
4708
4709
4710
4711
4712
4713
4714
4715
4716
4717
4718
4719
4720
4721
4722
4723
4724
4725
4726
4727
4728
4729
4730
4731
4732
4733
4734
4735
4736
4737
4738
4739
4740
4741
4742
4743
4744
4745
4746
4747
4748
4749
4750
4751
4752
4753
4754
4755
4756
4757
4758
4759
4760
4761
4762
4763
4764
4765
4766
4767
4768
4769
4770
4771
4772
4773
4774
4775
4776
4777
4778
4779
4780
4781
4782
4783
4784
4785
4786
4787
4788
4789
4790
4791
4792
4793
4794
4795
4796
4797
4798
4799
4800
4801
4802
4803
4804
4805
4806
4807
4808
4809
4810
4811
4812
4813
4814
4815
4816
4817
4818
4819
4820
4821
4822
4823
4824
4825
4826
4827
4828
4829
4830
4831
4832
4833
4834
4835
4836
4837
4838
4839
4840
4841
4842
4843
4844
4845
4846
4847
4848
4849
4850
4851
4852
4853
4854
4855
4856
4857
4858
4859
4860
4861
4862
4863
4864
4865
4866
4867
4868
4869
4870
4871
4872
4873
4874
4875
4876
4877
4878
4879
4880
4881
4882
4883
4884
4885
4886
4887
4888
4889
4890
4891
4892
4893
4894
4895
4896
4897
4898
4899
4900
4901
4902
4903
4904
4905
4906
4907
4908
4909
4910
4911
4912
4913
4914
4915
4916
4917
4918
4919
4920
4921
4922
4923
4924
4925
4926
4927
4928
4929
4930
4931
4932
4933
4934
4935
4936
4937
4938
4939
4940
4941
4942
4943
4944
4945
4946
4947
4948
4949
4950
4951
4952
4953
4954
4955
4956
4957
4958
4959
4960
4961
4962
4963
4964
4965
4966
4967
4968
4969
4970
4971
4972
4973
4974
4975
4976
4977
4978
4979
4980
4981
4982
4983
4984
4985
4986
4987
4988
4989
4990
4991
4992
4993
4994
4995
4996
4997
4998
4999
5000
5001
5002
5003
5004
5005
5006
5007
5008
5009
5010
5011
5012
5013
5014
5015
5016
5017
5018
5019
5020
5021
5022
5023
5024
5025
5026
5027
5028
5029
5030
5031
5032
5033
5034
5035
5036
5037
5038
5039
5040
5041
5042
5043
5044
5045
5046
5047
5048
5049
5050
5051
5052
5053
5054
5055
5056
5057
5058
5059
5060
5061
5062
5063
5064
5065
5066
5067
5068
5069
5070
5071
5072
5073
5074
5075
5076
5077
5078
5079
5080
5081
5082
5083
5084
5085
5086
5087
5088
5089
5090
5091
5092
5093
5094
5095
5096
5097
5098
5099
5100
5101
5102
5103
5104
5105
5106
5107
5108
5109
5110
5111
5112
5113
5114
5115
5116
5117
5118
5119
5120
5121
5122
5123
5124
5125
5126
5127
5128
5129
5130
5131
5132
5133
5134
5135
5136
5137
5138
5139
5140
5141
5142
5143
5144
5145
5146
5147
5148
5149
5150
5151
5152
5153
5154
5155
5156
5157
5158
5159
5160
5161
5162
5163
5164
5165
5166
5167
5168
5169
5170
5171
5172
5173
5174
5175
5176
5177
5178
5179
5180
5181
5182
5183
5184
5185
5186
5187
5188
5189
5190
5191
5192
5193
5194
5195
5196
5197
5198
5199
5200
5201
5202
5203
5204
5205
5206
5207
5208
5209
5210
5211
5212
5213
5214
5215
5216
5217
5218
5219
5220
5221
5222
5223
5224
5225
5226
5227
5228
5229
5230
5231
5232
5233
5234
5235
5236
5237
5238
5239
5240
5241
5242
5243
5244
5245
5246
5247
5248
5249
5250
5251
5252
5253
5254
5255
5256
5257
5258
5259
5260
5261
5262
5263
5264
5265
5266
5267
5268
5269
5270
5271
5272
5273
5274
5275
5276
5277
5278
5279
5280
5281
5282
5283
5284
5285
5286
5287
5288
5289
5290
5291
5292
5293
5294
5295
5296
5297
5298
5299
5300
5301
5302
5303
5304
5305
5306
5307
5308
5309
5310
5311
5312
5313
5314
5315
5316
5317
5318
5319
5320
5321
5322
5323
5324
5325
5326
5327
5328
5329
5330
5331
5332
5333
5334
5335
5336
5337
5338
5339
5340
5341
5342
5343
5344
5345
5346
5347
5348
5349
5350
5351
5352
5353
5354
5355
5356
5357
5358
5359
5360
5361
5362
5363
5364
5365
5366
5367
5368
5369
5370
5371
5372
5373
5374
5375
5376
5377
5378
5379
5380
5381
5382
5383
5384
5385
5386
5387
5388
5389
5390
5391
5392
5393
5394
5395
5396
5397
5398
5399
5400
5401
5402
5403
5404
5405
5406
5407
5408
5409
5410
5411
5412
5413
5414
5415
5416
5417
5418
5419
5420
5421
5422
5423
5424
5425
5426
5427
5428
5429
5430
5431
5432
5433
5434
5435
5436
5437
5438
5439
5440
5441
5442
5443
5444
5445
5446
5447
5448
5449
5450
5451
5452
5453
5454
5455
5456
5457
5458
5459
5460
5461
5462
5463
5464
5465
5466
5467
5468
5469
5470
5471
5472
5473
5474
5475
5476
5477
5478
5479
5480
5481
5482
5483
5484
5485
5486
5487
5488
5489
5490
5491
5492
5493
5494
5495
5496
5497
5498
5499
5500
5501
5502
5503
5504
5505
5506
5507
5508
5509
5510
5511
5512
5513
5514
5515
5516
5517
5518
5519
5520
5521
5522
5523
5524
5525
5526
5527
5528
5529
5530
5531
5532
5533
5534
5535
5536
5537
5538
5539
5540
5541
5542
5543
5544
5545
5546
5547
5548
5549
5550
5551
5552
5553
5554
5555
5556
5557
5558
5559
5560
5561
5562
5563
5564
5565
5566
5567
5568
5569
5570
5571
5572
5573
5574
5575
5576
5577
5578
5579
5580
5581
5582
5583
5584
5585
5586
5587
5588
5589
5590
5591
5592
5593
5594
5595
5596
5597
5598
5599
5600
5601
5602
5603
5604
5605
5606
5607
5608
5609
5610
5611
5612
5613
5614
5615
5616
5617
5618
5619
5620
5621
5622
5623
5624
5625
5626
5627
5628
5629
5630
5631
5632
5633
5634
5635
5636
5637
5638
5639
5640
5641
5642
5643
5644
5645
5646
5647
5648
5649
5650
5651
5652
5653
5654
5655
5656
5657
5658
5659
5660
5661
5662
5663
5664
5665
5666
5667
5668
5669
5670
5671
5672
5673
5674
5675
5676
5677
5678
5679
5680
5681
5682
5683
5684
5685
5686
5687
5688
5689
5690
5691
5692
5693
5694
5695
5696
5697
5698
5699
5700
5701
5702
5703
5704
5705
5706
5707
5708
5709
5710
5711
5712
5713
5714
5715
5716
5717
5718
5719
5720
5721
5722
5723
5724
5725
5726
5727
5728
5729
5730
5731
5732
5733
5734
5735
5736
5737
5738
5739
5740
5741
5742
5743
5744
5745
5746
5747
5748
5749
5750
5751
5752
5753
5754
5755
5756
5757
5758
5759
5760
5761
5762
5763
5764
5765
5766
5767
5768
5769
5770
5771
5772
5773
5774
5775
5776
5777
5778
5779
5780
5781
5782
5783
5784
5785
5786
5787
5788
5789
5790
5791
5792
5793
5794
5795
5796
5797
5798
5799
5800
5801
5802
5803
5804
5805
5806
5807
5808
5809
5810
5811
5812
5813
5814
5815
5816
5817
5818
5819
5820
5821
5822
5823
5824
5825
5826
5827
5828
5829
5830
5831
5832
5833
5834
5835
5836
5837
5838
5839
5840
5841
5842
5843
5844
5845
5846
5847
5848
5849
5850
5851
5852
5853
5854
5855
5856
5857
5858
5859
5860
5861
5862
5863
5864
5865
5866
5867
5868
5869
5870
5871
5872
5873
5874
5875
5876
5877
5878
5879
5880
5881
5882
5883
5884
5885
5886
5887
5888
5889
5890
5891
5892
5893
5894
5895
5896
5897
5898
5899
5900
5901
5902
5903
5904
5905
5906
5907
5908
5909
5910
5911
5912
5913
5914
5915
5916
5917
5918
5919
5920
5921
5922
5923
5924
5925
5926
5927
5928
5929
5930
5931
5932
5933
5934
5935
5936
5937
5938
5939
5940
5941
5942
5943
5944
5945
5946
5947
5948
5949
5950
5951
5952
5953
5954
5955
5956
5957
5958
5959
5960
5961
5962
5963
5964
5965
5966
5967
5968
5969
5970
5971
5972
5973
5974
5975
5976
5977
5978
5979
5980
5981
5982
5983
5984
5985
5986
5987
5988
5989
5990
5991
5992
5993
5994
5995
5996
5997
5998
5999
6000
6001
6002
6003
6004
6005
6006
6007
6008
6009
6010
6011
6012
6013
6014
6015
6016
6017
6018
6019
6020
6021
6022
6023
6024
6025
6026
6027
6028
6029
6030
6031
6032
6033
6034
6035
6036
6037
6038
6039
6040
6041
6042
6043
6044
6045
6046
6047
6048
6049
6050
6051
6052
6053
6054
6055
6056
6057
6058
6059
6060
6061
6062
6063
6064
6065
6066
6067
6068
6069
6070
6071
6072
6073
6074
6075
6076
6077
6078
6079
6080
6081
6082
6083
6084
6085
6086
6087
6088
6089
6090
6091
6092
6093
6094
6095
6096
6097
6098
6099
6100
6101
6102
6103
6104
6105
6106
6107
6108
6109
6110
6111
6112
6113
6114
6115
6116
6117
6118
6119
6120
6121
6122
6123
6124
6125
6126
6127
6128
6129
6130
6131
6132
6133
6134
6135
6136
6137
6138
6139
6140
6141
6142
6143
6144
6145
6146
6147
6148
6149
6150
6151
6152
6153
6154
6155
6156
6157
6158
6159
6160
6161
6162
6163
6164
6165
6166
6167
6168
6169
6170
6171
6172
6173
6174
6175
6176
6177
6178
6179
6180
6181
6182
6183
6184
6185
6186
6187
6188
6189
6190
6191
6192
6193
6194
6195
6196
6197
6198
6199
6200
6201
6202
6203
6204
6205
6206
6207
6208
6209
6210
6211
6212
6213
6214
6215
6216
6217
6218
6219
6220
6221
6222
6223
6224
6225
6226
6227
6228
6229
6230
6231
6232
6233
6234
6235
6236
6237
6238
6239
6240
6241
6242
6243
6244
6245
6246
6247
6248
6249
6250
6251
6252
6253
6254
6255
6256
6257
6258
6259
6260
6261
6262
6263
6264
6265
6266
6267
6268
6269
6270
6271
6272
6273
6274
6275
6276
6277
6278
6279
6280
6281
6282
6283
6284
6285
6286
6287
6288
6289
6290
6291
6292
6293
6294
6295
6296
6297
6298
6299
6300
6301
6302
6303
6304
6305
6306
6307
6308
6309
6310
6311
6312
6313
6314
6315
6316
6317
6318
6319
6320
6321
6322
6323
6324
6325
6326
6327
6328
6329
6330
6331
6332
6333
6334
6335
6336
6337
6338
6339
6340
6341
6342
6343
6344
6345
6346
6347
6348
6349
6350
6351
6352
6353
6354
6355
6356
6357
6358
6359
6360
6361
6362
6363
6364
6365
6366
6367
6368
6369
6370
6371
6372
6373
6374
6375
6376
6377
6378
6379
6380
6381
6382
6383
6384
6385
6386
6387
6388
6389
6390
6391
6392
6393
6394
6395
6396
6397
6398
6399
6400
6401
6402
6403
6404
6405
6406
6407
6408
6409
6410
6411
6412
6413
6414
6415
6416
6417
6418
6419
6420
6421
6422
6423
6424
6425
6426
6427
6428
6429
6430
6431
6432
6433
6434
6435
6436
6437
6438
6439
6440
6441
6442
6443
6444
6445
6446
6447
6448
6449
6450
6451
6452
6453
6454
6455
6456
6457
6458
6459
6460
6461
6462
6463
6464
6465
6466
6467
6468
6469
6470
6471
6472
6473
6474
6475
6476
6477
6478
6479
6480
6481
6482
6483
6484
6485
6486
6487
6488
6489
6490
6491
6492
6493
6494
6495
6496
6497
6498
6499
6500
6501
6502
6503
6504
6505
6506
6507
6508
6509
6510
6511
6512
6513
6514
6515
6516
6517
6518
6519
6520
6521
6522
6523
6524
6525
6526
6527
6528
6529
6530
6531
6532
6533
6534
6535
6536
6537
6538
6539
6540
6541
6542
6543
6544
6545
6546
6547
6548
6549
6550
6551
6552
6553
6554
6555
6556
6557
6558
6559
6560
6561
6562
6563
6564
6565
6566
6567
6568
6569
6570
6571
6572
6573
6574
6575
6576
6577
6578
6579
6580
6581
6582
6583
6584
6585
6586
6587
6588
6589
6590
6591
6592
6593
6594
6595
6596
6597
6598
6599
6600
6601
6602
6603
6604
6605
6606
6607
6608
6609
6610
6611
6612
6613
6614
6615
6616
6617
6618
6619
6620
6621
6622
6623
6624
6625
6626
6627
6628
6629
6630
6631
6632
6633
6634
6635
6636
6637
6638
6639
6640
6641
6642
6643
6644
6645
6646
6647
6648
6649
6650
6651
6652
6653
6654
6655
6656
6657
6658
6659
6660
6661
6662
6663
6664
6665
6666
6667
6668
6669
6670
6671
6672
6673
6674
6675
6676
6677
6678
6679
6680
6681
6682
6683
6684
6685
6686
6687
6688
6689
6690
6691
6692
6693
6694
6695
6696
6697
6698
6699
6700
6701
6702
6703
6704
6705
6706
6707
6708
6709
6710
6711
6712
6713
6714
6715
6716
6717
6718
6719
6720
6721
6722
6723
6724
6725
6726
6727
6728
6729
6730
6731
6732
6733
6734
6735
6736
6737
6738
6739
6740
6741
6742
6743
6744
6745
6746
6747
6748
6749
6750
6751
6752
6753
6754
6755
6756
6757
6758
6759
6760
6761
6762
6763
6764
6765
6766
6767
6768
6769
6770
6771
6772
6773
6774
6775
6776
6777
6778
6779
6780
6781
6782
6783
6784
6785
6786
6787
6788
6789
6790
6791
6792
6793
6794
6795
6796
6797
6798
6799
6800
6801
6802
6803
6804
6805
6806
6807
6808
6809
6810
6811
6812
6813
6814
6815
6816
6817
6818
6819
6820
6821
6822
6823
6824
6825
6826
6827
6828
6829
6830
6831
6832
6833
6834
6835
6836
6837
6838
6839
6840
6841
6842
6843
6844
6845
6846
6847
6848
6849
6850
6851
6852
6853
6854
6855
6856
6857
6858
6859
6860
6861
6862
6863
6864
6865
6866
6867
6868
6869
6870
6871
6872
6873
6874
6875
6876
6877
6878
6879
6880
6881
6882
6883
6884
6885
6886
6887
6888
6889
6890
6891
6892
6893
6894
6895
6896
6897
6898
6899
6900
6901
6902
6903
6904
6905
6906
6907
6908
6909
6910
6911
6912
6913
6914
6915
6916
6917
6918
6919
6920
6921
6922
6923
6924
6925
6926
6927
6928
6929
6930
6931
6932
6933
6934
6935
6936
6937
6938
6939
6940
6941
6942
6943
6944
6945
6946
6947
6948
6949
6950
6951
6952
6953
6954
6955
6956
6957
6958
6959
6960
6961
6962
6963
6964
6965
6966
6967
6968
6969
6970
6971
6972
6973
6974
6975
6976
6977
6978
6979
6980
6981
6982
6983
6984
6985
6986
6987
6988
6989
6990
6991
6992
6993
6994
6995
6996
6997
6998
6999
7000
7001
7002
7003
7004
7005
7006
7007
7008
7009
7010
7011
7012
7013
7014
7015
7016
7017
7018
7019
7020
7021
7022
7023
7024
7025
7026
7027
7028
7029
7030
7031
7032
7033
7034
7035
7036
7037
7038
7039
7040
7041
7042
7043
7044
7045
7046
7047
7048
7049
7050
7051
7052
7053
7054
7055
7056
7057
7058
7059
7060
7061
7062
7063
7064
7065
7066
7067
7068
7069
7070
7071
7072
7073
7074
7075
7076
7077
7078
7079
7080
7081
7082
7083
7084
7085
7086
7087
7088
7089
7090
7091
7092
7093
7094
7095
7096
7097
7098
7099
7100
7101
7102
7103
7104
7105
7106
7107
7108
7109
7110
7111
7112
7113
7114
7115
7116
7117
7118
7119
7120
7121
7122
7123
7124
7125
7126
7127
7128
7129
7130
7131
7132
7133
7134
7135
7136
7137
7138
7139
7140
7141
7142
7143
7144
7145
7146
7147
7148
7149
7150
7151
7152
7153
7154
7155
7156
7157
7158
7159
7160
7161
7162
7163
7164
7165
7166
7167
7168
7169
7170
7171
7172
7173
7174
7175
7176
7177
7178
7179
7180
7181
7182
7183
7184
7185
7186
7187
7188
7189
7190
7191
7192
7193
7194
7195
7196
7197
7198
7199
7200
7201
7202
7203
7204
7205
7206
7207
7208
7209
7210
7211
7212
7213
7214
7215
7216
7217
7218
7219
7220
7221
7222
7223
7224
7225
7226
7227
7228
7229
7230
7231
7232
7233
7234
7235
7236
7237
7238
7239
7240
7241
7242
7243
7244
7245
7246
7247
7248
7249
7250
7251
7252
7253
7254
7255
7256
7257
7258
7259
7260
7261
7262
7263
7264
7265
7266
7267
7268
7269
7270
7271
7272
7273
7274
7275
7276
7277
7278
7279
7280
7281
7282
7283
7284
7285
7286
7287
7288
7289
7290
7291
7292
7293
7294
7295
7296
7297
7298
7299
7300
7301
7302
7303
7304
7305
7306
7307
7308
7309
7310
7311
7312
7313
7314
7315
7316
7317
7318
7319
7320
7321
7322
7323
7324
7325
7326
7327
7328
7329
7330
7331
7332
7333
7334
7335
7336
7337
7338
7339
7340
7341
7342
7343
7344
7345
7346
7347
7348
7349
7350
7351
7352
7353
7354
7355
7356
7357
7358
7359
7360
7361
7362
7363
7364
7365
7366
7367
7368
7369
7370
7371
7372
7373
7374
7375
7376
7377
7378
7379
7380
7381
7382
7383
7384
7385
7386
7387
7388
7389
7390
7391
7392
7393
7394
7395
7396
7397
7398
7399
7400
7401
7402
7403
7404
7405
7406
7407
7408
7409
7410
7411
7412
7413
7414
7415
7416
7417
7418
7419
7420
7421
7422
7423
7424
7425
7426
7427
7428
7429
7430
7431
7432
7433
7434
7435
7436
7437
7438
7439
7440
7441
7442
7443
7444
7445
7446
7447
7448
7449
7450
7451
7452
7453
7454
7455
7456
7457
7458
7459
7460
7461
7462
7463
7464
7465
7466
7467
7468
7469
7470
7471
7472
7473
7474
7475
7476
7477
7478
7479
7480
7481
7482
7483
7484
7485
7486
7487
7488
7489
7490
7491
7492
7493
7494
7495
7496
7497
7498
7499
7500
7501
7502
7503
7504
7505
7506
7507
7508
7509
7510
7511
7512
7513
7514
7515
7516
7517
7518
7519
7520
7521
7522
7523
7524
7525
7526
7527
7528
7529
7530
7531
7532
7533
7534
7535
7536
7537
7538
7539
7540
7541
7542
7543
7544
7545
7546
7547
7548
7549
7550
7551
7552
7553
7554
7555
7556
7557
7558
7559
7560
7561
7562
7563
7564
7565
7566
7567
7568
7569
7570
7571
7572
7573
7574
7575
7576
7577
7578
7579
7580
7581
7582
7583
7584
7585
7586
7587
7588
7589
7590
7591
7592
7593
7594
7595
7596
7597
7598
7599
7600
7601
7602
7603
7604
7605
7606
7607
7608
7609
7610
7611
7612
7613
7614
7615
7616
7617
7618
7619
7620
7621
7622
7623
7624
7625
7626
7627
7628
7629
7630
7631
7632
7633
7634
7635
7636
7637
7638
7639
7640
7641
7642
7643
7644
7645
7646
7647
7648
7649
7650
7651
7652
7653
7654
7655
7656
7657
7658
7659
7660
7661
7662
7663
7664
7665
7666
7667
7668
7669
7670
7671
7672
7673
7674
7675
7676
7677
7678
7679
7680
7681
7682
7683
7684
7685
7686
7687
7688
7689
7690
7691
7692
7693
7694
7695
7696
7697
7698
7699
7700
7701
7702
7703
7704
7705
7706
7707
7708
7709
7710
7711
7712
7713
7714
7715
7716
7717
7718
7719
7720
7721
7722
7723
7724
7725
7726
7727
7728
7729
7730
7731
7732
7733
7734
7735
7736
7737
7738
7739
7740
7741
7742
7743
7744
7745
7746
7747
7748
7749
7750
7751
7752
7753
7754
7755
7756
7757
7758
7759
7760
7761
7762
7763
7764
7765
7766
7767
7768
7769
7770
7771
7772
7773
7774
7775
7776
7777
7778
7779
7780
7781
7782
7783
7784
7785
7786
7787
7788
7789
7790
7791
7792
7793
7794
7795
7796
7797
7798
7799
7800
7801
7802
7803
7804
7805
7806
7807
7808
7809
7810
7811
7812
7813
7814
7815
7816
7817
7818
7819
7820
7821
7822
7823
7824
7825
7826
7827
7828
7829
7830
7831
7832
7833
7834
7835
7836
7837
7838
7839
7840
7841
7842
7843
7844
7845
7846
7847
7848
7849
7850
7851
7852
7853
7854
7855
7856
7857
7858
7859
7860
7861
7862
7863
7864
7865
7866
7867
7868
7869
7870
7871
7872
7873
7874
7875
7876
7877
7878
7879
7880
7881
7882
7883
7884
7885
7886
7887
7888
7889
7890
7891
7892
7893
7894
7895
7896
7897
7898
7899
7900
7901
7902
7903
7904
7905
7906
7907
7908
7909
7910
7911
7912
7913
7914
7915
7916
7917
7918
7919
7920
7921
7922
7923
7924
7925
7926
7927
7928
7929
7930
7931
7932
7933
7934
7935
7936
7937
7938
7939
7940
7941
7942
7943
7944
7945
7946
7947
7948
7949
7950
7951
7952
7953
7954
7955
7956
7957
7958
7959
7960
7961
7962
7963
7964
7965
7966
7967
7968
7969
7970
7971
7972
7973
7974
7975
7976
7977
7978
7979
7980
7981
7982
7983
7984
7985
7986
7987
7988
7989
7990
7991
7992
7993
7994
7995
7996
7997
7998
7999
8000
8001
8002
8003
8004
8005
8006
8007
8008
8009
8010
8011
8012
8013
8014
8015
8016
8017
8018
8019
8020
8021
8022
8023
8024
8025
8026
8027
8028
8029
8030
8031
8032
8033
8034
8035
8036
8037
8038
8039
8040
8041
8042
8043
8044
8045
8046
8047
8048
8049
8050
8051
8052
8053
8054
8055
8056
8057
8058
8059
8060
8061
8062
8063
8064
8065
8066
8067
8068
8069
8070
8071
8072
8073
8074
8075
8076
8077
8078
8079
8080
8081
8082
8083
8084
8085
8086
8087
8088
8089
8090
8091
8092
8093
8094
8095
8096
8097
8098
8099
8100
8101
8102
8103
8104
8105
8106
8107
8108
8109
8110
8111
8112
8113
8114
8115
8116
8117
8118
8119
8120
8121
8122
8123
8124
8125
8126
8127
8128
8129
8130
8131
8132
8133
8134
8135
8136
8137
8138
8139
8140
8141
8142
8143
8144
8145
8146
8147
8148
8149
8150
8151
8152
8153
8154
8155
8156
8157
8158
8159
8160
8161
8162
8163
8164
8165
8166
8167
8168
8169
8170
8171
8172
8173
8174
8175
8176
8177
8178
8179
8180
8181
8182
8183
8184
8185
8186
8187
8188
8189
8190
8191
8192
8193
8194
8195
8196
8197
8198
8199
8200
8201
8202
8203
8204
8205
8206
8207
8208
8209
8210
8211
8212
8213
8214
8215
8216
8217
8218
8219
8220
8221
8222
8223
8224
8225
8226
8227
8228
8229
8230
8231
8232
8233
8234
8235
8236
8237
8238
8239
8240
8241
8242
8243
8244
8245
8246
8247
8248
8249
8250
8251
8252
8253
8254
8255
8256
8257
8258
8259
8260
8261
8262
8263
8264
8265
8266
8267
8268
8269
8270
8271
8272
8273
8274
8275
8276
8277
8278
8279
8280
8281
8282
8283
8284
8285
8286
8287
8288
8289
8290
8291
8292
8293
8294
8295
8296
8297
8298
8299
8300
8301
8302
8303
8304
8305
8306
8307
8308
8309
8310
8311
8312
8313
8314
8315
8316
8317
8318
8319
8320
8321
8322
8323
8324
8325
8326
8327
8328
8329
8330
8331
8332
8333
8334
8335
8336
8337
8338
8339
8340
8341
8342
8343
8344
8345
8346
8347
8348
8349
8350
8351
8352
8353
8354
8355
8356
8357
8358
8359
8360
8361
8362
8363
8364
8365
8366
8367
8368
8369
8370
8371
8372
8373
8374
8375
8376
8377
8378
8379
8380
8381
8382
8383
8384
8385
8386
8387
8388
8389
8390
8391
8392
8393
8394
8395
8396
8397
8398
8399
8400
8401
8402
8403
8404
8405
8406
8407
8408
8409
8410
8411
8412
8413
8414
8415
8416
8417
8418
8419
8420
8421
8422
8423
8424
8425
8426
8427
8428
8429
8430
8431
8432
8433
8434
8435
8436
8437
8438
8439
8440
8441
8442
8443
8444
8445
8446
8447
8448
8449
8450
8451
8452
8453
8454
8455
8456
8457
8458
8459
8460
8461
8462
8463
8464
8465
8466
8467
8468
8469
8470
8471
8472
8473
8474
8475
8476
8477
8478
8479
8480
8481
8482
8483
8484
8485
8486
8487
8488
8489
8490
8491
8492
8493
8494
8495
8496
8497
8498
8499
8500
8501
8502
8503
8504
8505
8506
8507
8508
8509
8510
8511
8512
8513
8514
8515
8516
8517
8518
8519
8520
8521
8522
8523
8524
8525
8526
8527
8528
8529
8530
8531
8532
8533
8534
8535
8536
8537
8538
8539
8540
8541
8542
8543
8544
8545
8546
8547
8548
8549
8550
8551
8552
8553
8554
8555
8556
8557
8558
8559
8560
8561
8562
8563
8564
8565
8566
8567
8568
8569
8570
8571
8572
8573
8574
8575
8576
8577
8578
8579
8580
8581
8582
8583
8584
8585
8586
8587
8588
8589
8590
8591
8592
8593
8594
8595
8596
8597
8598
8599
8600
8601
8602
8603
8604
8605
8606
8607
8608
8609
8610
8611
8612
8613
8614
8615
8616
8617
8618
8619
8620
8621
8622
8623
8624
8625
8626
8627
8628
8629
8630
8631
8632
8633
8634
8635
8636
8637
8638
8639
8640
8641
8642
8643
8644
8645
8646
8647
8648
8649
8650
8651
8652
8653
8654
8655
8656
8657
8658
8659
8660
8661
8662
8663
8664
8665
8666
8667
8668
8669
8670
8671
8672
8673
8674
8675
8676
8677
8678
8679
8680
8681
8682
8683
8684
8685
8686
8687
8688
8689
8690
8691
8692
8693
8694
8695
8696
8697
8698
8699
8700
8701
8702
8703
8704
8705
8706
8707
8708
8709
8710
8711
8712
8713
8714
8715
8716
8717
8718
8719
8720
8721
8722
8723
8724
8725
8726
8727
8728
8729
8730
8731
8732
8733
8734
8735
8736
8737
8738
8739
8740
8741
8742
8743
8744
8745
8746
8747
8748
8749
8750
8751
8752
8753
8754
8755
8756
8757
8758
8759
8760
8761
8762
8763
8764
8765
8766
8767
8768
8769
8770
8771
8772
8773
8774
8775
8776
8777
8778
8779
8780
8781
8782
8783
8784
8785
8786
8787
8788
8789
8790
8791
8792
8793
8794
8795
8796
8797
8798
8799
8800
8801
8802
8803
8804
8805
8806
8807
8808
8809
8810
8811
8812
8813
8814
8815
8816
8817
8818
8819
8820
8821
8822
8823
8824
8825
8826
8827
8828
8829
8830
8831
8832
8833
8834
8835
8836
8837
8838
8839
8840
8841
8842
8843
8844
8845
8846
8847
8848
8849
8850
8851
8852
8853
8854
8855
8856
8857
8858
8859
8860
8861
8862
8863
8864
8865
8866
8867
8868
8869
8870
8871
8872
8873
8874
8875
8876
8877
8878
8879
8880
8881
8882
8883
8884
8885
8886
8887
8888
8889
8890
8891
8892
8893
8894
8895
8896
8897
8898
8899
8900
8901
8902
8903
8904
8905
8906
8907
8908
8909
8910
8911
8912
8913
8914
8915
8916
8917
8918
8919
8920
8921
8922
8923
8924
8925
8926
8927
8928
8929
8930
8931
8932
8933
8934
8935
8936
8937
8938
8939
8940
8941
8942
8943
8944
8945
8946
8947
8948
8949
8950
8951
8952
8953
8954
8955
8956
8957
8958
8959
8960
8961
8962
8963
8964
8965
8966
8967
8968
8969
8970
8971
8972
8973
8974
8975
8976
8977
8978
8979
8980
8981
8982
8983
8984
8985
8986
8987
8988
8989
8990
8991
8992
8993
8994
8995
8996
8997
8998
8999
9000
9001
9002
9003
9004
9005
9006
9007
9008
9009
9010
9011
9012
9013
9014
9015
9016
9017
9018
9019
9020
9021
9022
9023
9024
9025
9026
9027
9028
9029
9030
9031
9032
9033
9034
9035
9036
9037
9038
9039
9040
9041
9042
9043
9044
9045
9046
9047
9048
9049
9050
9051
9052
9053
9054
9055
9056
9057
9058
9059
9060
9061
9062
9063
9064
9065
9066
9067
9068
9069
9070
9071
9072
9073
9074
9075
9076
9077
9078
9079
9080
9081
9082
9083
9084
9085
9086
9087
9088
9089
9090
9091
9092
9093
9094
9095
9096
9097
9098
9099
9100
9101
9102
9103
9104
9105
9106
9107
9108
9109
9110
9111
9112
9113
9114
9115
9116
9117
9118
9119
9120
9121
9122
9123
9124
9125
9126
9127
9128
9129
9130
9131
9132
9133
9134
9135
9136
9137
9138
9139
9140
9141
9142
9143
9144
9145
9146
9147
9148
9149
9150
9151
9152
9153
9154
9155
9156
9157
9158
9159
9160
9161
9162
9163
9164
9165
9166
9167
9168
9169
9170
9171
9172
9173
9174
9175
9176
9177
9178
9179
9180
9181
9182
9183
9184
9185
9186
9187
9188
9189
9190
9191
9192
9193
9194
9195
9196
9197
9198
9199
9200
9201
9202
9203
9204
9205
9206
9207
9208
9209
9210
9211
9212
9213
9214
9215
9216
9217
9218
9219
9220
9221
9222
9223
9224
9225
9226
9227
9228
9229
9230
9231
9232
9233
9234
9235
9236
9237
9238
9239
9240
9241
9242
9243
9244
9245
9246
9247
9248
9249
9250
9251
9252
9253
9254
9255
9256
9257
9258
9259
9260
9261
9262
9263
9264

<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN">
<html>
<head>
<title>New File</title>
<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1">
<style type="text/css">
<!--
body {margin:10%; text-align:justify}
blockquote {font-size:14pt}
P {font-size:14pt}
-->
</style>
</head>
<body>



<h1>The Project Gutenberg EBook of True to Himself, by Edward Stratemeyer
</h1>

<pre>
Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.

This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
Gutenberg file.  Please do not remove it.  Do not change or edit the
header without written permission.

Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the
eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file.  Included is
important information about your specific rights and restrictions in
how the file may be used.  You can also find out about how to make a
donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.


**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**

**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**

*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****


Title: True to Himself

Author: Edward Stratemeyer

Release Date: January, 2004  [EBook #4995]
[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
[This file was first posted on April 7, 2002]

Edition: 10

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, TRUE TO HIMSELF ***




This eBook was produced by Jim Weiler, xooqi.com



</pre>


<h1>TRUE TO HIMSELF</h1>
<h4>ROGER STRONG'S STRUGGLE FOR PLACE</h4>
<h4>BY</h4>
<h2>EDWARD STRATEMEYER</h2>
<HR>
<h4>COPYRIGHT 1891 by Frank A Munsey.</h4>
<h4>Copyright 1900 by Lee and Shepard.</h4>
<h3>PREFACE</h3>
<P>
"True to himself," while a complete story in itself, forms
the third volume of the "Ship and Shore Series," tales of adventure on land
and sea, written for both boys and girls.
<P>
In this story we are introduced to Roger Strong, a typical
American country lad, and his sister Kate, who, by an unhappy combination
of events, are thrown upon their own resources and compelled to make their
own way in the world.
<P>
To make one's way in the world is, ordinarily, difficult
enough; but when one is handicapped by a cloud on the family name, the difficulty
becomes far greater. With his father thrown into prison on a serious charge,
Roger finds that few people will have anything to do with either himself
or his sister, and the jeers flung at him are at times almost more than he
can bear. But he is "true to himself" in the best meaning of that saying,
rising above those who would pull him down, and, in the end, not only succeeds
in making a place for himself in the world, but also scores a worthy triumph
over those who had caused his parents' downfall.
<P>
When this story was first printed as a serial, the author
has every reason to believe it was well received by the boys and girls for
whom it was written. In its present revised form he hopes it will meet with
equal commendation.
<P ALIGN=RIGHT class=right>
Edward Stratemeyer. &nbsp; &nbsp;
<P ALIGN=LEFT class=left>
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Newark, N.J.,<BR>
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; April 15, 1900.

<HR>
<h3>CHAPTER I</h3>
<h4>THE TROUBLE IN THE ORCHARD</h4>
<P>
"Hi, there, Duncan Woodward!" I called
out. "What are you doing in Widow Canby's orchard?"
<P>
"None of your business, Roger Strong," replied the only
son of the wealthiest merchant in Darbyville.
<P>
"You are stealing her pears," I went on. "Your pockets
are full of them."
<P>
"See here, Roger Strong, just you mind your own business
and leave me alone."
<P>
"I am minding my business," I rejoined warmly.
<P>
"Indeed!" And Duncan put as much of a sneer as was possible
in the word.
<P>
"Yes, indeed. Widow Canby pays me for taking care of her
orchard, and that includes keeping an eye on these pear trees," and I approached
the tree upon the lowest branch of which Duncan was standing.
<P>
"Humph! You think you're mighty big!" he blustered, as
he jumped to the ground. "What right has a fellow like you to talk to me
in this manner? You are getting too big for your boots."
<P>
"I don't think so. I'm guarding this property, and I want
you to hand over what you've taken and leave the premises," I retorted, for
I did not fancy the style in which I was being addressed.
<P>
"Pooh! Do you expect me to pay any attention to that?"
<P>
"You had better, Duncan. If you don't you may get into
trouble."
<P>
"I suppose you intend to tell the widow what I've done."
<P>
"I certainly shall; unless you do as I've told you to."
<P>
Duncan bit his lip. "How do you know but what the widow
said I could have the pears?" he ventured.
<P>
"If she did, it's all right," I returned, astonished,
not so much over the fact that Widow Canby had granted the permission, as
that such a high-toned young gentleman as Duncan Woodward should desire that
privilege.
<P>
"You've no business to jump at conclusions," he added
sharply.
<P>
"If I judged you wrongly, I beg your pardon, Duncan. I'll
speak to the widow about it."
<P>
I began to move off toward the house. Duncan hurried after
me and caught me by the arm.
<P>
"You fool you, what do you mean?" he demanded.
<P>
"I'm going to find out if you are telling the truth."
<P>
"Isn't my word enough?"
<P>
"It will do no harm to ask," I replied evasively, not
caring to pick a quarrel, and yet morally sure that he was prevaricating.
<P>
"So you think I'm telling you a falsehood? I've a good
mind to give you a sound drubbing," he cried angrily.
<P>
Duncan Woodward had many of the traits of a bully about
him. He was the only son of a widower who nearly idolized him, and, lacking
a mother's guiding influence, he had grown up wayward in the extreme.
<P>
He was a tall, well-built fellow, strong from constant
athletic exercise, and given, on this account, to having his way among his
associates.
<P>
Yet I was not afraid of him. Indeed, to tell the truth,
I was not afraid of any one. For eight years I had been shoved in life from
pillar to post, until now threats had no terrors for me.
<P>
Both of my parents were dead to me. My mother died when
I was but five years old. She was of a delicate nature, and, strange as it
may seem, I am inclined to believe that it was for the best that her death
occurred when it did. The reason I believe this is, because she was thus
spared the disgrace that came upon our family several years later.
<P>
At her death my father was employed as head clerk by the
firm of Holland &amp; Mack, wholesale provision merchants of Newville, a
thriving city which was but a few miles from Darbyville, a pretty village
located on the Pass River.
<P>
We occupied a handsome house in the centre of the village.
Our family, besides my parents and myself, contained but one other member&#151; my
sister Kate, who was several years my senior.
<P>
When our beloved mother died, Kate took the management
of our home upon her shoulders, and as she had learned, during my mother's
long illness, how everything should be done, our domestic affairs ran smoothly.
All this time I attended the Darbyville school, and was laying the foundation
for a commercial education, intending at some later day to follow in the
footsteps of my father.
<P>
Two years passed, and then my father's manner changed.
From being bright and cheerful toward us he became moody and silent. What
the cause was I could not guess, and it did not help matters to be told by
Duncan Woodward, whose father was also employed by Holland &amp; Mack, that
"some folks would soon learn what was what, and no mistake."
<P>
At length the thunderbolt fell. Returning from school
one day, I found Kate in tears.
<P>
"Oh, Roger!" she burst out. "They say father has stolen
money from Holland &amp; Mack, and they have just arrested him for a thief!"
<P>
The blow was a terrible one. I was but a boy of fourteen,
and the news completely bewildered me. I put on my cap, and together with
Kate, took the first horse car to Newville to find out what it all meant.
<P>
We found my father in jail, where he had been placed to
await the action of the grand jury. It was with difficulty that we obtained
permission to see him, and ascertained the facts of the case.
<P>
The charge against him was for raising money upon forged
cheeks, eight in number, the total amount being nearly twelve thousand dollars.
The name of the firm had been forged, and the money collected in New York
and Brooklyn. I was not old enough to understand the particulars.
<P>
My father protested his innocence, but it was of no avail.
The forgery was declared to be his work, and, though it was said that he
must have had an accomplice to obtain the money, he was adjudged the guilty
party.
<P>
"Ten years in the State's prison." That was the penalty.
My father grew deadly white, while as for me, my very heart seemed to stop
beating. Kate fainted, and two days later the doctor announced that she had
an attack of brain fever.
<P>
Two months dragged slowly by. Then my sister was declared
to be out of danger. Next the house was sold over our heads, and we were
turned out upon the world, branded as the children of a thief, to get a living
as best we could.
<P>
Both of us would willingly have left Darbyville, but where
should we go? The only relation we had was an uncle,&#151; Captain Enos Moss,&#151; and
he was on an extended trip to South America, and when he would return no
one knew.
<P>
All the friends we had had before deserted us. The girls
"turned up their noses" at Kate,&#151; which made my blood boil,&#151; and the boys
fought shy of me.
<P>
I tried to find work, but without success. Even in places
where help was wanted excuses were made to me&#151; trivial excuses that meant
but one thing&#151; that they did not desire any one in their employ who had a
stain upon his name.
<P>
Kate was equally unsuccessful; and we might have starved
but for a lucky incident that happened just as we were ready to give up in
despair.
<P>
Walking along the road one day, I saw Farmer Tilford's
bull tearing across the field toward a gate which had been accidentally left
open. The Widow Canby, absorbed in thought and quite unconscious of the danger
that threatened her, was just passing this gate, when I darted forward and
closed it just a second before the bull reached it. I did not consider my
act an heroic one, but the Widow Canby declared it otherwise.
<P>
"You are a brave boy," she said. "Who are you?"
<P>
I told her, coloring as I spoke. But she laid a kindly
hand upon my shoulder.
<P>
"Even if your father was guilty, you are not to blame,"
she said, and she made me tell her all about myself, and about Kate, and
the hard luck we were having.
<P>
The Widow Canby lived in an old-fashioned house, surrounded
on three sides by orchards several acres in extent. She was well to do, but
made no pretence to style. Many thought her extremely eccentric but that
was only because they did not know her.
<P>
The day I came to her assistance she made me stay to supper,
and when I left it was under promise to call the next day and bring my sister
along.
<P>
This I did, and a long conversation took place, which
resulted in Kate and myself going to live with the widow&#151; I to take care
of the garden and the orchards, and my sister to help with the housekeeping,
for which we received our board and joint wages of fifteen dollars per month.
<P>
We could not have fallen into better hands. Mrs. Canby
was as considerate as one would wish, and had it not been for the cloud upon
our name we would have been content.
<P>
But the stain upon our family was a source of unpleasantness
to us. I fully believed my father innocent, and I wondered if the time would
ever come when his character would be cleared.
<P>
My duties around Widow Canby's place were not onerous,
and I had plenty of chance for self-improvement. I had finished my course
at the village school in spite of the calumny that was cast upon me, and
now I continued my studies in private whenever the opportunity offered.
<P>
I was looked down upon by nearly every one in the village.
To strangers I was pointed out as the convict's son, and people reckoned
that the "Widder Canby wasn't right sharp when she took in them as wasn't
to be trusted."
<P>
I was not over-sensitive, but these remarks, which generally
reached my ears sooner or later, made me very angry. What right had people
to look down on my sister and myself? It was not fair to Kate and me, and
I proposed to stand it no longer.
<P>
It was a lovely morning in September, but I was in no
mood to enjoy the bright sunshine and clear air that flooded the orchard.
I had just come from the depot with the mail for Mrs. Canby, and down there
I had heard two men pass opinions on my father's case that were not only
uncharitable but unjust.
<P>
I was therefore in no frame of mind to put up with Duncan
Woodward's actions, and when he spoke of giving me a good drubbing I prepared
to defend myself.
<P>
"Two can play at that game, Duncan," I replied.
<P>
"Ho! ho! Do you mean to say you can stand up against me?"
he asked derisively.
<P>
"I can try," I returned stoutly. "I'm sure now that you
have no business here."
<P>
"Why, you miserable little thief&#151;"
<P>
"Stop that! I'm no thief, if you please."
<P>
"Well, you're the son of one, and that's the same thing."
<P>
"My father is innocent, and I won't allow any one, big
or little, to call him a thief," I burst out. "Some day he will be cleared."
<P>
"Not much!" laughed Duncan. "My father knows all about
the case. I can tell you that."
<P>
"Then perhaps he knows where the money went to," I replied
quickly. "I know he was very intimate with my father at that time."
<P>
Had I stopped to think I would not have spoken as I did.
My remark made the young man furious, and I had hardly spoken before Duncan
hit me a stinging blow on the forehead, and, springing upon me, bore me to
the ground.
<h3>CHAPTER II</h3>
<h4>AN ASSAULT ON THE ROAD</h4>
<P>
I knew Duncan Woodward would not
hesitate to attack me. He was a much larger fellow than myself, and always
ready to fight any one he thought he could whip.
<P>
Yet I was not prepared for the sudden onslaught that had
been made. Had I been, I might have parried his blow.
<P>
But I did not intend to be subdued as easily as he imagined.
The blow on my forehead pained not a little, and it made me mad "clear through."
<P>
"Get off of me!" I cried, as Duncan brought his full weight
down upon my chest.
<P>
"Not much! Not until you promise to keep quiet about this
affair," he replied.
<P>
"If you don't get off, you'll be mighty sorry;" was my
reply, as I squirmed around in an effort to throw him aside.
<P>
Suddenly he caught me by the ear, and gave that member
a twist that caused me to cry out with pain.
<P>
"Now will you do as I say?" he demanded.
<P>
"No"
<P>
Again he caught my ear. But now I was ready for him. It
was useless to try to shake him off. He was too heavy and powerful for that.
So I brought a small, but effective weapon into play. The weapon was nothing
more than a pin that held together a rent in my trousers made the day previous.
Without hesitation I pulled it out and ran it a good half-inch into his leg.
<P>
The yell be gave would have done credit to a wild Indian,
and he bounded a distance of several feet. I was not slow to take advantage
of this movement, and in an instant I was on my feet and several yards away.
<P>
Duncan's rage knew no bounds. He was mad enough to "chew
me up," and with a loud exclamation he sprang after me, aiming a blow at
my head as he did so.
<P>
I dodged his arm, and then, gathering myself together,
landed my fist fairly and squarely upon the tip of his nose, a blow that
knocked him off his feet and sent him rolling to the ground.
<P>
To say that I was astonished at what I had done would
not express my entire feelings. I was amazed, and could hardly credit my
own eyesight. Yet there he lay, the blood flowing from the end of his nasal
organ. He was completely knocked out, and I had done the deed. I did not
fear for consequences. I felt justified in what I had done. But I wondered
how Duncan would stand the punishment.
<P>
With a look of intense bitterness on his face he rose
slowly to his feet. The blood was running down his chin, and there were several
stains upon his white collar and his shirt front. If a look could have crushed
me I would have been instantly annihilated.
<P>
"I'll fix you for that!" he roared. "Roger Strong, I'll
get even with you, if it takes ten years!"
<P>
"Do what you please, Duncan Woodward," I rejoined. "I
don't fear you. Only beware how you address me in the future. You will get
yourself into trouble."
<P>
"I imagine you will be the one to get into trouble," he
returned insinuatingly.
<P>
"I'm not afraid. But&#151; hold up there!" I added, for Duncan
had begun to move off toward the fence.
<P>
"What for?"
<P>
"I want you to hand over the pears you picked."
<P>
"I won't."
<P>
"Very well. Then I'll report the case to Mrs. Canby."
<P>
Duncan grew white.
<P>
"Take your confounded fruit," he howled, throwing a dozen
or more of the luscious pears at my feet. "If I don't get even with you,
my name isn't Duncan Woodward!"
<P>
And with this parting threat he turned to the fence, jumped
over, and strode down the road.
<P>
In spite of the seriousness of the affair I could not
help but laugh. Duncan had no doubt thought it a great lark to rob the widow's
orchard, never dreaming of the wrong he was doing or of the injury to the
trees. Now his nose was swollen, his clothes soiled, and he had suffered
defeat in every way.
<P>
I had no doubt that he would do all in his power to get
even with me. He hated me and always had. At school I had surpassed him in
our studies, and on the ball field I had proved myself a superior player.
I do not wish to brag about what I did, but it is necessary to show why Duncan
disliked me.
<P>
Nor was there much love lost on my side, though I always
treated him fairly. The reason for this was plain.
<P>
As I have stated, his father, Aaron Woodward, was at one
tune a fellow-clerk with my father. At the time my father was arrested, Woodward
was one of his principal accusers. Duncan had, of course, taken up the matter.
Since then Mr. Woodward had received a large legacy from a dead relative
in Chicago, or its suburbs, and started the finest general store in Darbyville.
But his bitterness toward us still continued.
<P>
That the man knew something about the money that had been
stolen I did not doubt, but how to prove it was a difficult problem that
I had pondered many times without arriving at any satisfactory conclusion.
<P>
I watched Duncan out of sight and then turned and walked
slowly toward the house.
<P>
"Roger!"
<P>
It was Mrs. Canby who called me. She stood on the side
porch with a letter in her hand.
<P>
"You want me?"
<P>
"Yes, I have quite important news," she continued. "My
sister in Norfolk is very ill, and I must go to her at once. I have spoken
to Kate about it. Do you think you can get along while I am gone?"
<P>
"Yes, ma'am. How long do you expect to be away?"
<P>
"If she is not seriously ill I shall be back by day after
to-morrow. You can hitch up Jerry at once. The train leaves in an hour."
<P>
"I'll have him at the door in five minutes."
<P>
"And, Roger, you and Kate must take good care of things
while I am gone. There are several hundred dollars locked up in my desk.
I would take the money to the bank in Newville, only I hate to lose the time."
<P>
"I reckon it will be safe," I replied; "I'll keep good
watch against burglars."
<P>
"Do you think you can handle a pistol?" she went on.
<P>
"I think I could," I replied, with all the interest of
the average American boy in firearms.
<P>
"There is a pistol upstairs in my bureau that belonged
to Mr. Canby. I will let you have that, though of course I trust you won't
need it."
<P>
"Is it loaded?"
<P>
"Yes; I loaded it last week. I will lay it out before
I go. Be very careful with it."
<P>
"I will," I promised her.
<P>
I hurried down to the barn, and in a few moments had Jerry
hooked up to the family turnout. As I was about to jump in and drive to the
house, a man confronted me.
<P>
He was a stranger, about forty years of age, with black
hair and shaggy beard and eyebrows. He was seedily dressed, and altogether
looked to be a disreputable character.
<P>
"Say, young man, can you help a fellow as is down on his
luck?" he asked in a hoarse tone.
<P>
"Who are you?" I responded.
<P>
"I'm a moulder from Factoryville. The shop's shut down,
and I'm out of money and out of work."
<P>
"How long have you been out?"
<P>
"Two weeks."
<P>
"And you haven't found work anywhere?"
<P>
"Not a stroke."
<P>
"Been to Newville?"
<P>
"All through it, and everything full."
<P>
I thought this was queer. I had glanced at the Want column
of a Newville newspaper and had noted that moulders were wanted in several
places.
<P>
The man's appearance did not strike me favorably, and
when he came closer to me I noted that his breath smelt strongly of liquor.
<P>
"I don't think I can help you," said I. "I have nothing
for you to do."
<P>
"Give me a quarter, then, will you? I ain't had nothing
to eat since yesterday."
<P>
"But you've had something to drink," I could not help
remark.
<P>
The man scowled, "How do you know?"
<P>
"I can smell it on you."
<P>
"I only had one glass,&#151; just to knock out a cold I caught.
Come, make it half a dollar. I'll pay you back when I get work."
<P>
"I don't care to lend."
<P>
"Make it ten cents."
<P>
"Not a cent."
<P>
"You're mighty independent about it," he sneered.
<P>
"I have to be when such fellows as you tackle me," I returned
with spirit.
<P>
"You're mighty high toned for a boy of your age."
<P>
"I'm too high toned to let you talk to me in this fashion.
I want you to leave at once."
<P>
The tramp&#151; for the man was nothing else&#151; scowled worse
than before.
<P>
"I'll leave when I please," he returned coolly.
<P>
I was nonplussed. I was in a hurry to get away to drive
Widow Canby to the station. To leave the man hanging about the house with
no one but my sister Kate home was simply out of the question.
<P>
Suddenly an idea struck me. Like most people who live
in the country, Mrs. Canby kept a watch-dog&#151; a large and powerful mastiff
called Major. He was tied up near the back stoop out of sight, but could
be pressed into service on short notice.
<P>
"If you don't go at once, I'll set the dog on you."
<P>
"Huh! You can't fool me!"
<P>
"No fooling about it. Major! Major!" I called.
<P>
There was a rattling of chain as the animal tried to break
away, and then a loud barking. The noise seemed to strike terror to the tramp's
heart.
<P>
"I'll get even with you, young fellow!" he growled, and
running to the fence he scrambled over and out of sight. I did not wait to
see in what direction he went.
<P>
When I reached the porch I found Mrs. Canby bidding my
sister good-by. A moment more and she was on the seat. I touched up Jerry
and we were off.
<P>
"It took you a long time to hitch up," the widow remarked
as we drove along.
<P>
"It wasn't that," I replied, and told her about the tramp.
<P>
"You must be very careful of those men," she said anxiously.
"Some of them will not stop at anything."
<P>
"I'll be wide awake," I rejoined reassuringly.
<P>
It was not a long drive to the station. When we arrived
there, Mrs. Canby had over five minutes to spare, and this time was spent
in buying a ticket and giving me final instructions.
<P>
At length the train came along and she was off. I waited
a few moments longer and then drove away.
<P>
I had several purchases to make in the village&#151; a
pruning-knife, a bag of feed, and some groceries, and these took some time
to buy, so it was nearly noon when I started home.
<P>
Several times I imagined that a couple of the village
young men noticed me very closely, but I paid no attention and went on my
way, never dreaming of what was in store for me.
<P>
The road to the widow's house ran for half a mile or more
through a heavy belt of timber land. We were jogging along at a fair pace,
and I was looking over a newspaper I had picked up on the station platform.
Suddenly some one sprang out from the bushes and seized Jerry by the bridle.
<P>
Astonished and alarmed, I sprang up to see what was the
matter. As I did so I received a stinging blow on the side of the head, and
the next instant was dragged rudely from the carriage.
<h3>CHAPTER III</h3>
<h4>THE MODELS</h4>
<P>
I had been taken completely off my
guard, but by instinct I tried to ward off my assailants. My effort was a
useless one. In a trice I found myself on the ground, surrounded by half
a dozen of the fastest young men to be found in Darbyville.
<P>
Prominent among them was Duncan Woodward, and I rightfully
guessed that it was he who had organized the attack.
<P>
"Take it easy, Strong," exclaimed a fellow named Moran,
"unless you want to be all broke up."
<P>
"What do you mean by treating me in this way?" I cried
indignantly.
<P>
"You'll find out soon enough," said Phillips, another
of the young men. "Come, stop your struggling."
<P>
"I'll do nothing of the kind. You have no right to molest
me."
<P>
"Pooh!" sniffed Duncan. "The Models have a right to do
anything."
<P>
"The Models?" I queried, in perplexity. "Who are they?"
<P>
"The Models are a band of young gentlemen organized for
the purpose of social enjoyment and to teach cads lessons that they are not
likely to forget," replied Moran.
<P>
"I suppose you are the members," I said, surveying the
half-dozen.
<P>
"We have that honor," rejoined a boy named Barton, who
had not yet spoken.
<P>
"And we intend to teach you a lesson," added Pultzer,
a short, stout chap, whose father had once been a butcher.
<P>
"What for?"
<P>
"For your unwarranted attack upon our illustrious president."
<P>
"Your president? You mean Duncan?"
<P>
"Mr. Woodward, if you please," interrupted Duncan, loftily.
"I won't have such a low-bred fellow as you calling me by my first name."
<P>
"I'm no lower bred than you are," I retorted.
<P>
"Come, none of that!"cried Moran. "We all know you well.
We shall at once proceed to teach you a lesson."
<P>
I could not help smile&#151; the whole affair seemed so ridiculous
that had it not been for the rough handling I had received when pulled from
the carriage, I would have considered it a joke.
<P>
"You'll find it no laughing matter," said Duncan, savagely,
angry, no doubt, because I did not show more signs of fear. "Just wait till
we are through with you. You'll grin on the other side of your face."
<P>
"What do you intend to do with me?"
<P>
"You'll see soon enough."
<P>
I began to think the affair might be more serious than
I had imagined. Six to one was heavy odds, and who could tell what these
wild fellows would not do?
<P>
"I want you to let me go at once," I said decidedly. "If
you don't, it will be the worse for you."
<P>
"Not a bit of it. We intend that you shall remember this
occasion as long as you live," returned Moran. "Come, march along with us."
<P>
"Where to?"
<P>
"Never mind. March!"
<P>
For reply I turned, and made a hasty jump for the carriage,
intending to utilize Jerry in a bold dash for liberty. I had just placed
my foot upon the step and called to the horse when Moran caught me by the
jacket and dragged me to the ground.
<P>
"No you don't!" he ejaculated roughly.
<P>
"There, Dunc, catch hold of him; and you too, Ellery.
We mustn't let him escape after we've watched two hours to catch him!"
<P>
In an instant, I was surrounded. Now that Duncan had his
friends to back him he was brave enough and held my arm in a grip of iron.
<P>
"Any one bring a rope?" went on Moran.
<P>
"Here's one," replied Ellery Blake.
<P>
"Hand it over. We had better bind his hands."
<P>
Knowing that it would be folly to resist, I allowed them
to do as Moran had advised. My wrists were knotted together behind my back,
and then the cord was drawn tightly about my waist.
<P>
"Now march!"
<P>
"How about the horse and carriage?"
<P>
"They'll be O. K."
<P>
There seemed to be no help for it, so I walked along with
them. Had there been the slightest chance offered to escape I would have
taken it, but warned by experience, all six kept close watch over me.
<P>
Away we went through the woods that lined the east side
of the road. It was bad walking, and with both my hands behind me I was several
times in danger of stumbling. Indeed, once I did go down, but the firm grasp
of my captors saved me from injury.
<P>
Presently we came to a long clearing, where it had once
been the intention of some capitalists to build a railroad. But the matter
had drifted into litigation, and nothing was done but to build a tool house
and cut away the trees and brush.
<P>
The building had often been the resort of tramps, and
was in a dilapidated condition. It was probably fifteen feet square, having
a door at one end and a window at the other. The roof was flat and full of
holes, but otherwise the building was fairly strong.
<P>
"Here we are, fellows," said Duncan, as we stopped in
front of the door. "Just let go of him."
<P>
The others did as he requested. But they formed a small
circle around me that I might not escape.
<P>
"Now that I have got you in a place free from interruption
I intend to square up accounts with you," continued the president of the
Models. "You hit me a foul blow this morning."
<P>
"You brought it on yourself, Duncan," I replied, as coolly
as I could, though I was keenly interested.
<P>
"Stop! How many times must I tell you not to call me by
my first name."
<P>
"Well, then, Woodward, if that suits you better."
<P>
<I>"Mr.</I> Woodward, if you please."
<P>
"Oh, come, Dunc, hurry up," interrupted Moran. "We don't
want to stay here all day."
<P>
"I'm only teaching this fellow a lesson in politeness."
<P>
"All right; only cut it short."
<P>
"See here, Moran, who's the president of this club?"
<P>
"You are."
<P>
"Well, then, I'll take my own time," replied Duncan, loftily.
<P>
"Go ahead then. But you'll have to do without me," rejoined
Moran, considerably provoked by the other's domineering tone.
<P>
"I will?"
<P>
"Yes. I've got other things to do besides standing here
gassing all day."
<P>
"Indeed!" sneered Duncan.
<P>
"Yes, indeed!"
<P>
I enjoyed the scene. It looked very much as if there would
be lively times without my aid.
<P>
"You're getting up on your dignity mighty quick, Dan Moran."
<P>
"I don't intend to play servant-in-waiting for any one,
Duncan Woodward."
<P>
"Who asked you to?"
<P>
"&nbsp;'Actions speak louder than words.'&nbsp;"
<P>
"I'm the president of the Models, am I not?"
<P>
"Yes, but you're not a model president."
<P>
I could not help smiling at Moran's pun. He was not a
bad chap, and had he not been to a great extent under Duncan's influence
he might have been a first-rate fellow.
<P>
Of course, as is the fashion among men as well as boys,
all the others groaned at the pun; and then Ellery broke in:&#151;
<P>
"Come, come, this will never do. Go ahead with Strong,
Dunc."
<P>
"I intend to," was the president's rejoinder. "But you
all promised to stick by me, and I don't want any one to back out."
<P>
"I'm not backing out," put in Moran. "I only want to hurry
matters up."
<P>
There was a pause after this speech, then Duncan addressed
me:&#151;
<P>
"Perhaps you are anxious to know why I brought you here?"
<P>
"Not particularly," I returned coldly.
<P>
Duncan gave a sniff.
<P>
"I guess that's all put on."
<P>
"Not at all. What I am anxious to know is, what you intend
to do with me."
<P>
"Well, first of all I want you to get down on your knees
and apologize for your conduct toward me this morning."
<P>
"Not much!" I cried.
<P>
"You are in my power."
<P>
"I don't care. Go ahead and do your worst," I replied
recklessly, willing to suffer almost anything rather than apologize to such
a chap as Duncan Woodward.
<P>
Besides, what had I done to call for an apology? I had
certainly treated him no worse than he deserved. He was a spoilt boy and
a bully, and I would die rather than go down on my knees to him.
<P>
"You don't know what's in store for you," said Dunce,
nonplussed by my manner.
<P>
"As I said before, I'll risk it."
<P>
"Very well. Where is the rope, boys?"
<P>
"Here you are," answered Pultzer. "Plenty of it."
<P>
As he spoke he produced a stout clothes line, five or
six yards in length.
<P>
"We'll bind his hands a little tighter first," instructed
Duncan, "and then his legs. Be sure and make the knots strong, so they won't
slip. He must not escape us."
<P>
I tried to protest against these proceedings, but with
my hands already bound it was useless.
<P>
In five minutes the clothes line had been passed around
my body from head to feet, and I was almost as stiff as an Egyptian mummy.
<P>
"Now catch hold, and we'll carry him into the tool house,"
said Duncan. "I guess after he has spent twenty-four hours in that place
without food or water he'll be mighty anxious to come to terms."
<P>
I was half dragged and half carried to the tool house
and dropped upon the floor. Then the door was closed upon me, and I was left
to my fate.
<h3>CHAPTER IV</h3>
<h4>THE TRAMP AGAIN</h4>
<P>
I am sure that all will admit that
the prospect before me was not a particularly bright one. I was bound hand
and foot and left without food or water.
<P>
Yet as I lay upon the hard floor of the tool house I was
not so much concerned about myself as I was about matters at Widow Canby's
house. It would be a hardship to pass the night where I was, to say nothing
of how I might be treated when Duncan Woodward and his followers returned.
But in the meantime, how would Kate fare?
<P>
I knew that my sister would be greatly alarmed at my continued
absence. She fully expected me to be home long before this. As near as I
could judge it was now an hour or so after noon, and she would have dinner
kept warm on the kitchen stove, expecting every minute to see me drive up
the lane.
<P>
Then again I was worried over the fact that the widow
had left the house and her money in my charge. To be sure, the latter was
locked up in her private secretary; but I felt it to be as much in my care
as if it had been placed in my shirt bosom or the bottom of my trunk.
<P>
I concluded that it was my duty, then, to free myself
as quickly as possible from the bonds which the members of the Model Club
had placed upon me. But this idea was more easily conceived than carried
out.
<P>
In vain I tugged at the clothes line that held my arms
and hands fast to my body. Duncan and the others had done their work well,
and the only result of my efforts was to make the cord cut so deep into my
flesh that several times I was ready to cry out from pain.
<P>
In my attempts I tried to rise to my feet, but found it
an impossibility, and only succeeded in bumping my head severely against
the wall.
<P>
There was no use in calling for help, and though I halloed
several times I soon gave it up. I was fully three-quarters of a mile from
any house and half that distance from the road, and who would be likely to
hear me so far off?
<P>
The afternoon dragged slowly along, and finally the sun
went down and the evening shadows crept up. By this time I was quite hungry
and tremendously thirsty. But with nothing at hand to satisfy the one or
allay the other I resolutely put all thoughts of both out of my head.
<P>
In the old tool house there had been left several empty
barrels, behind which was a quantity of shavings that I found far more
comfortable to rest upon than the bare floor.
<P>
As the evening wore on I wondered if I would be able to
sleep. There was no use worrying about matters, as it would do no good, so
I was inclined to treat the affair philosophically and make the best of it.
<P>
An hour passed, and I was just dropping into a light doze
when a noise outside attracted my attention. I listened intently and heard
a man's footsteps.
<P>
I was inclined to call out, and, in fact, was on the point
of so doing, when the door of the tool house opened and in the dim light
I recognized the form of the tramp moulder who earlier in the day had so
impudently asked me for help.
<P>
I was not greatly surprised to see him, for, as mentioned
before, the old tool house was frequently used by men of his stamp. He had
as much right there as I had, and though I was chagrined to see him enter
I was in no position to protest.
<P>
On the contrary, I deemed it advisable to keep quiet.
If he did not see me, so much the better. If he did, who could tell what
indignities he might visit upon me?
<P>
So I crouched down behind the empty barrels, hardly daring
to breathe. The man stumbled into the building, leaving the door wide open.
<P>
By his manner I was certain that he had been drinking
heavily, and his rambling soliloquy proved it.
<P>
"The same old shebang," he mumbled to himself, as he swayed
around in the middle of the floor, "the same old shebang where Aaron Woodward
and I parted company four years ago. He's took care of his money, and I've
gone to the dogs," and he gave a yawn and sat down on top of a barrel.
<P>
I was thoroughly surprised at his words. Was it possible
that this seedy-looking individual had once been intimate with Duncan Woodward's
father? It hardly seemed reasonable. I made a rapid calculation and concluded
that the meeting must have had something to do with the proposed railroad
in which I knew Mr. Woodward had held an interest. Perhaps this tramp had
once been a prosperous contractor.
<P>
"Great times them were. Plenty of money and nothing to
do," continued the man. "Wonder if any one in Darbyville would recognize&#151; hold
up, Stumpy, you mustn't repeat that name too often or you'll be mentioning
it in public when it ain't no interest for you to do it. Stumpy, John Stumpy,
is good enough for the likes of you."
<P>
And with great deliberation Mr. John Stumpy brought forth
a short clay pipe which he proceeded to fill and light with evident satisfaction.
<P>
During the brief period of lighting up I caught a good
glance at his face, and fancied that I saw beneath the surface of dirt and
dissipation a look of shrewdness and intelligence. Evidently he was one of
the unfortunates who allowed drink to make off with their brains.
<P>
Mr. John Stumpy puffed on in silence for several minutes.
I wondered what he intended to do, and was not prepared for the surprises
that were to follow.
<P>
"Times are changed and no mistake," he went on. "Here
I am, down at the bottom, Nick Weaver dead, Woodward a rich man, and Carson
Strong in jail. Humph! but times do change!"
<P>
Carson Strong! My heart gave a bound. This man was speaking
of my father. What did it mean? What did the tramp know of the events of
the past? As I lay behind the barrels, I earnestly hoped he would go on with
his talk. I had heard just enough to arouse my curiosity.
<P>
I was certain that I had never, until that day, seen the
man. What, then, could he have in common with my father?
<P>
Instinctively I connected the man with the cause of my
father's imprisonment&#151; I will not say downfall, because I firmly believed
him innocent. Why I should do so I cannot to this day explain, but from the
instant he mentioned my parent's name the man was firmly fixed in my memory.
<P>
In a few moments Mr. John Stumpy had puffed his pipe out,
leaving the place filled with a heavy and vile smoke which gave me all I
could do to keep from coughing. Then he slowly knocked the ashes from the
bowl and restored the pipe to his pocket.
<P>
"Now I reckon I'm in pretty good trim to go ahead," he
muttered as he arose. "No use of talking; there ain't anything like a good
puff to steady a man's nerves. Was a time when I didn't need it, but them
times are gone, and the least little job on hand upsets me. Wonder how much
that old woman left behind."
<P>
I nearly uttered an ejaculation of astonishment. Was this
man speaking of Mrs. Canby? What was the job that he contemplated?
<P>
Clearly there could be but one answer to that question.
He knew the widow had gone away, and in her absence he contemplated robbing
her house. Perhaps he had overheard her make mention of the money locked
up in her desk, and the temptation to obtain possession of it was too strong
to resist.
<P>
"I'll have to get rid of that boy and the dog, I suppose,"
he went on. "If it wasn't for the noise I'd shoot the dog; but it won't do
to arouse the neighborhood. As for the lad, I reckon the sight of a pistol
will scare him to death."
<P>
I was not so sure of that, and I grated my teeth at the
thought of my present helplessness. Had I been free, I am sure I could have
escaped easily, and perhaps have had the tramp arrested.
<P>
It was an alarming prospect. Kate was the only occupant
of the house, and the nearest neighbor lived a full five hundred feet away.
If attacked in the middle of the night, what would my sister do?
<P>
For a moment I felt like exposing myself, but then I reflected
that such a course would not liberate me, and he would know that he had nothing
to fear from me at the house, whereas, if I kept quiet, he might, by some
lucky incident, be kept at bay.
<P>
So I lay still, wondering when he would start on his criminal
quest.
<P>
"Now, one more drink and then I'll be off," he continued,
and, producing a bottle, he took a deep draught. "Ha! That's the stuff to
brace a man's nerves! But you mustn't drink too much, John Stumpy, or you'll
be no good at all. If you'd only let liquor alone you might be as rich as
Aaron Woodward, remember that." He gave something like a sigh. "Oh, well;
let it pass. I'll get the tools and be on the way. The money in my pocket,
I'll take the first train in the morning for the West." He paused a moment.
"But no; I won't go until I've seen Woodward. He owes me a little on the
old score, and I'll not go until he has settled up."
<P>
There was an interval of silence, during which Stumpy
must have been feeling around in his pockets for a match; for a moment later
there were several slight scratches, and then a tiny flame lit up the interior
of the tool house.
<P>
"Let's see, where did I leave them tools? Ah, yes; I remember
now. Behind those barrels."
<P>
And Stumpy moved over to where I was in hiding.
<h3>CHAPTER V</h3>
<h4>FOLLOWING JOHN STUMPY</h4>
<P>
I expected to be discovered. I could
not see how it could possibly be avoided. John Stumpy was but a few feet
away. In a second more he would be in full sight of me.
<P>
What the outcome of the discovery would be I could not
imagine. I was at the man's mercy, and I was inclined to think that, our
interview of the morning would not tend to soften his feelings toward me.
<P>
But at that instant a small, yet extremely lucky incident
occurred. A draught of wind came in at the partly open door and blew out
the match, leaving the place in darkness.
<P>
"Confound the luck!" ejaculated John Stumpy, in high
irritation. "There goes the light, and it's the last match I've got, too."
<P>
This bit of information was gratifying to me, and, without
making any noise, I rolled back into the corner as far as possible.
<P>
"Well, I'll have to find them tools in the dark, that's
all." He groped around for several seconds, during which I held my breath.
"Ah, here they are, just as I left 'em last night. Reckon no one visits this
shanty, and maybe it will be a good place to bring the booty, especially
if I happen to be closely pushed."
<P>
I sincerely hoped that he would be closely pushed, and
in fact so closely pushed that he would have no booty to bring. But if he
did succeed in his nefarious plans, I was glad that I would know where to
look for him.
<P>
No sooner had the man found the bag of tools,&#151; which was
nothing more nor less than a burglar's kit,&#151; than he quitted the place, and
I was left to my own reflections.
<P>
My thoughts alarmed me. Beyond a doubt John Stumpy intended
to rob the Widow Canby's house. The only one at home was Kate, and I groaned
as I thought of the alarm and terror that she might be called upon to suffer.
As it was, I was sure she was worried about my continued absence. In my anguish
I strove with all my might to burst asunder the bonds that held me. At the
end of five minutes' struggle I remained as securely tied as ever.
<P>
What was to be done? It was a puzzling, but pertinent
question. By hook or by crook I must get free. At great risk of hurting my
head I rolled to the door of the tool house, which Stumpy had left wide open.
Outside, the stars were shining brightly, and in the southwest the pale crescent
of the new moon was falling behind the tree-tops, casting ghostly shadows
that would have made a timid person shiver. But as the reader may by this
time know, I was not of a timid nature, and I gave the shadows scant attention
until a sudden movement among the trees attracted my notice. It was the figure
of some person coming rapidly toward me.
<P>
At first I judged it must be Stumpy returning, and I was
on the point of rolling back to my hiding-place when I saw that the newcomer
was a boy.
<P>
When he reached the edge of the clearing he paused, and
approached slowly.
<P>
"Roger Strong!" he called out. I instantly recognized
the voice of Dick Blair, one of the youngest members of the Models, who,
during my capture, had had little to say or do. He was the son of a wealthy
farmer who lived but a short distance down the road from the Widow Canby's
place.
<P>
I had always considered Dick a pretty good chap, and had
been disagreeably surprised to see him in company with Duncan Woodward's
crowd. How Duncan had ever taken up with him I could not imagine, except
it might have been on account of the money Dick's father allowed him to have.
<P>
"Roger Strong!" he repeated. "Are you still here?"
<P>
I could, not imagine what had brought him to this place
at such an hour of the night. Yet I answered at once.
<P>
"Yes, I am, Dick Blair."
<P>
"I thought maybe you had managed to get away," he continued,
as he came closer.
<P>
"No; you fellows did your work pretty well," I replied
as lightly as I could, for I did not want to show the white feather.
<P>
"Precious little I had to do with it," he went on, as
he struck a match and lit a lantern that he carried.
<P>
"You were with the crowd."
<P>
"I know it; but I wouldn't have been if I'd known what
they were up to. I hope you will not think too badly of me, Roger."
<P>
"I thought it was strange you would go into anything of
this kind, Dick. What brings you back to-night?"
<P>
"I am ashamed of the whole thing," he answered earnestly,
"and I came to release you&#151; that is, on certain conditions."
<P>
My heart gave a bound. "What conditions, Dick?"
<P>
"I want you to promise that you won't tell who set you
free," he explained. "If Dunc or the rest heard of it, they would never forgive
me."
<P>
"What of it, Dick? Their opinion isn't worth anything."
<P>
"I know it&#151; now. But they could tell mighty mean stories
about me if they wanted to." And Dick Blair turned away and shuffled his
foot on the ground to hide his shame.
<P>
"Don't mind them, Dick. If they start any bad report about
you, do as I'm doing with the stain on our name&#151; live it down."
<P>
"I'll try it. But you'll promise, won't you?"
<P>
"If you wish it, yes."
<P>
"All right; I know I can trust you," said Dick. Producing
his pocket knife, he quickly cut the cords that bound me. Somewhat stiff
from the position in which I had been forced to remain, I rose slowly to
my feet.
<P>
"I don't know whether to thank you or not for what you've
done for me, Dick," I began. "But I appreciate your actions."
<P>
"I don't deserve any thanks. It was a mean trick, and
I guess legally I was as guilty as any one. Just keep quiet about it and
don't think too hard of me."
<P>
"I'll do both," I responded quickly.
<P>
"It's a mighty lonely place to spend the night in," he
went on. "I'm no coward, but I wouldn't care to do it, all alone."
<P>
"I haven't been alone."
<P>
"No." And Dick looked intensely surprised. "Who has been
here?"
<P>
I hesitated. Should I tell him?
<P>
"A tramp," I began.
<P>
"Why didn't he untie you?"
<P>
"He didn't see me."
<P>
"Oh, I suppose you hid away. What did he want, I wonder?"
<P>
"He was after some tools."
<P>
"Tools! There are none here, any more."
<P>
"But there were."
<P>
"What kind of tools?"
<P>
I hesitated again. Should I tell Dick the secret? Perhaps
he might give me some timely assistance.
<P>
"Will you promise to keep silent if I tell?"
<P>
"Why, what do you mean, Roger?"
<P>
"It is very important."
<P>
"All right. Fire away."
<P>
"He came after some burglar's tools."
<P>
Dick stepped back in astonishment. "You surely don't mean
it!" he gasped "Who was he going to rob?"
<P>
"The widow's house. He knows she is away and has left
considerable money in her desk."
<P>
And in a rapid manner I told Dick of what I had overheard,
omitting the mentioning of my father's and Mr. Woodward's names. Of course
he was tremendously excited. What healthy country boy would not be?
<P>
"What are you going to do about it?" he questioned.
<P>
"Now I'm free I'm going to catch the fellow," I returned
decidedly. "He shall not rob Mrs. Canby's house if I can help it."
<P>
"Aren't you afraid?"
<P>
"I intend to be cautious."
<P>
"He may have a pistol."
<P>
"The widow left one in the house. Maybe I can secure it.
Then we'll be on an equal footing."
<P>
"I've got a pistol, Roger."
<P>
"You!"
<P>
"Yes, the Models all carry them. Dunc always insisted
that it was the proper thing."
<P>
As Dick spoke, he produced a highly polished nickel-plated
five-shooter.
<P>
"It looks like a good one," I said, after examining it.
"Is it loaded?"
<P>
"Oh, yes; and I've got a box of cartridges in my pocket
besides."
<P>
"Lend it to me, Dick."
<P>
"If you don't mind I'll&#151; I'll go along with you, Roger,"
he returned. "You won't find me such a terrible coward."
<P>
"All right. But we must hurry. That fellow has got a good
start, and he may even now be in the house."
<P>
"Hardly. He'll want to take a look around first."
<P>
Nevertheless, we lost no time in getting away from the
tool house. We walked side by side, I with the pistol in the pocket of my
jacket, and Dick with the lantern held aloft, that we might see to make rapid
progress over the unaccustomed road.
<P>
It was a good walk to the widow's, and once Dick stumbled
down in a heap, while the lantern rolled several yards away. But he picked
himself up without grumbling and went along faster than ever.
<P>
"If I'm not mistaken, I saw that tramp down at the depot
this morning," said he, as we drew near to the main road. "He was hanging
around, and I thought he looked like a suspicious character."
<P>
"Did you see him yesterday?"
<P>
"No."
<P>
"Did you ever hear of him before?"
<P>
"I guess not. He was near the baggage room when I saw
him. Then Mr. Woodward came up to see about a trunk, and the tramp made right
off."
<P>
I was interested. John Stumpy had intimately that he intended
to have an interview with Duncan Woodward's father, and if this was so, why
had he not taken advantage of the opportunity thus offered?
<P>
I could arrive at but one conclusion. The tramp wished
their meeting to be a strictly private one. He did not care to be seen in
Mr. Woodward's presence, or else the wealthy merchant would not tolerate
such a thing.
<P>
If the meeting was to be of a private nature, it would
no doubt be of importance. Had my father's name not been mentioned I would
not have cared; but as it was, I was deeply interested.
<P>
Perhaps it would be better to merely scare the fellow
off. If he was captured, all chance of finding out his secrets might be lost.
<P>
By this time the reader may be aware that I thought John
Stumpy's secrets important. Such was a fact. Try as hard as I was able, I
could not but imagine that they concerned my father and his alleged downfall.
<P>
In five minutes Dick and I came within sight of Widow
Canby's house. There was a light burning in the kitchen and another in the
dining-room.
<P>
"Everything seems to be all right," said Dick, as we stood
near a corner of the front fence. "I guess the fellow hasn't put in an appearance
yet."
<P>
"I don't know. See I the side porch door is open. We generally
keep it closed, and Kate would certainly have it shut if she was alone."
<P>
"What do you intend to do? Go into the house?"
<P>
"Guess we had better. I'd like to know where that fellow
is," I replied. "Likely as not he is prowling about here somewhere. If we
can only catch sight of him, we can&#151; Hark!"
<P>
As I uttered the last word, a shrill cry reached our ears.
It was Kate's voice; and with my heart jumping wildly I made a dash for the
house, with Dick Blair following me.
<h3>CHAPTER VI</h3>
<h4>A STRANGE ENVELOPE</h4>
<P>
I was sure that my sister's cry could
mean but one thing&#151; that the tramp had made a raid on the house. I was thoroughly
alarmed, and ran with all possible speed in the direction of the dining-room,
from whence the sound proceeded.
<P>
As I tore across the lawn, regardless of the bed of flowers
which was Mrs. Canby's pride, Kate's cry was repeated, this time in a more
intense tone. An instant later I dashed across the porch and into the room
through the door that, as I have said, stood wide open.
<P>
I found my sister standing in the middle of the floor,
holding in her hand a heavy umbrella with which she had evidently been defending
herself. She was pale, and trembled from head to foot.
<P>
"What is it, Kate?" I exclaimed. "Where is the fellow?"
<P>
"Oh, Roger!" she gasped. "I'm so glad you've come. A tramp
was here&#151; he robbed&#151; robbed the desk&#151; the window&#151;"
<P>
She pointed to the open window on the opposite side of
the room. Then her breast heaved, the umbrella slipped from her grasp, and
she sank into a chair.
<P>
"Are you hurt?" I cried anxiously.
<P>
"No, no&#151; but the money&#151; it is gone! What will Mrs. Canby
say?"
<P>
And overcome with the dreadful thought, my sister fainted
dead away.
<P>
As for myself I felt sick at heart. John Stumpy had been
there&#151; the widow's money had been stolen. What could be done?
<P>
Meanwhile, Dick Blair had come in. His common sense told
him what had happened, and he set to work to restore my sister to consciousness.
<P>
"Will you stay here with Kate?" I asked.
<P>
"Certainly," he returned promptly. "But where are you
going? After that tramp?"
<P>
"Yes."
<P>
"Be careful, for he may be a desperate character."
<P>
"I'm not afraid of him. I'm going to get that money back
or know the reason why," was my determined reply; and I meant every word
I said.
<P>
To my mind it was absolutely necessary that I recover
the stolen property. It would have been bad enough to have had it taken when
the Widow Canby was at home, but it had been stolen when left in my charge,
and that was enough to make me turn Darbyville district up side down before
letting the matter drop.
<P>
Besides, there was still another important factor in the
case. I knew well enough that if the money was not recovered, there would
be plenty of people mean enough to intimate that I had had something to do
with its disappearance. The Strong honor was considered low by many, and
they would not hesitate to declare that I was only following in my father's
footsteps.
<P>
To a person already suffering under an unjust accusation
such an intimation is doubly stinging, and when I told Dick that I was not
afraid of Mr. John Stumpy, I meant that I would rather face the robber now
than the Darbyville people later on.
<P>
"I want to take the pistol," I added.
<P>
"All right. There is the box of extra cartridges. Do you
want the lantern?"
<P>
"Yes; I may want to use it before I return. I'll blow
it out now."
<P>
Our conversation had lasted but a few seconds, and an
instant after I was on my way, the lantern on my left arm and the pistol
in my right hand.
<P>
"Take good care of Kate," I called back as I passed out.
<P>
"I will," replied Dick. "Don't stay away too long, if
you don't find the fellow."
<P>
I passed around to the other side of the garden, where
an open gateway led to the pear orchard. I felt pretty certain that John
Stumpy had pursued this course, and I entered the orchard on a run.
<P>
The thief, I reckoned, was not over five minutes ahead
of me. To be sure, he could easily hide, but it was not likely that he would
care to remain in the neighborhood, unless it was really necessary for him
to see Mr. Aaron Woodward.
<P>
When I got well into the orchard, where it was darker
than in the garden, I listened intently, hoping that I might hear some sound
that would guide me.
<P>
But all was silent. Occasionally a night bird fluttered
through the trees and a frog gave a dismal croak, but otherwise not a sound
broke the stillness.
<P>
I continued on my way toward the road, and reaching the
fence, paused again.
<P>
Had the thief jumped over? If so, which way had he gone,
up, down, or into the woods beyond? It was a perplexing question. Perhaps
if I had been in a story book I might have found some clew to direct me.
But I was not that kind of a hero. I was only an everyday boy, and consequently
no clew presented itself.
<P>
I stood by the fence for several minutes, my eyes and
ears on the alert to catch anything worthy of notice. I judged it was near
midnight, and hardly had I thought of the matter before the distant town
bells tolled the hour of twelve.
<P>
As the echo of the last stroke died away, two figures
came slowly up the road. As they drew nearer, I recognized Moran and Pultzer,
the two Models members who had assisted at my capture.
<P>
I was astonished at their appearance. What on earth could
they be doing out at this time of night?
<P>
As they drew near I thought for many reasons that it would
not be advisable to show myself, and I stepped behind a tree.
<P>
"I don't care what you say," said Pultzer, "Dunc was half
scared to death when we came away."
<P>
"I guess he didn't think what a serious matter it was
when he asked us to go into it," returned Moran. "It's the worst affair I
ever got into."
<P>
"Ditto myself," responded Pultzer.
<P>
"And if we get out without being caught, you'll never
find me in another such," continued the other earnestly.
<P>
"I wonder what Dunc's father will say when he hears of
it?"
<P>
"And all the rest of the Darbyville people? Of course
they've got to lay it to some one."
<P>
I surmised that they must be speaking of what they had
done to me. I never dreamed that they were discussing a subject much more
serious.
<P>
"I'm glad Dick Blair wasn't along to-night," went on Moran.
"Dick is not to be trusted any more. He kicked awfully at the idea of tying
up Strong this noon."
<P>
I was gratified to hear this bit of news. I liked Dick
in many respects, and now I was almost ready to look upon him as a friend.
<P>
"Strong didn't give in quite as much as Dunc thought he
would. Hang it, if I didn't admire his grit."
<P>
"So did I. Wonder how he's getting along in the old tool
house. We must release him first thing in the morning."
<P>
"No need of doing that, gentlemen," I put in, stepping
out from behind the tree. "I am&#151;"
<P>
But it would have been useless for me to say more, as
no one would have heard me.
<P>
At the first sound of my voice both of the Models had
started in alarm, and then, led by Pultzer, they dashed up the road as fast
as their feet could carry them.
<P>
At first I was amazed at their actions, and then, as the
ridiculousness of the situation presented itself, I smiled. "A guilty conscience
needeth no accuser," it is said, and this truth was verified to the letter.
<P>
Yet I was sorry that I had not had a chance to speak to
them. I wanted to question them in regard to the thief. Perhaps they had
seen him, and if so, I did not want to miss my chance of getting upon his
track.
<P>
Jumping over the fence, I walked slowly down the road,
but not in hopes of meeting John Stumpy. If he was anywhere near, the approach
of the two boys had certainly driven him into hiding.
<P>
Suddenly I thought of the tool house. The tramp had spoken
of returning to the place. He evidently knew the road. I determined to go
to the spot and make a search at once.
<P>
It was no easy matter to find my way back to the tool
house, and at the risk of being seen I lit the lantern.
<P>
As I walked along I wondered how my sister and Dick were
faring. No doubt Kate had been much surprised to see who was with her on
her recovery, and I sincerely hoped that the shock Stumpy had given her would
not have any evil effects. She was a sensitive girl, and such happenings
were calculated to try her nerves severely.
<P>
At length I came within sight of the clearing. Here I
hesitated for an instant, and then, pistol in hand, approached the tool house
boldly.
<P>
The door was still open, and I entered, only to find the
place empty.
<P>
With a sigh I realized that my journey thither was a useless
one. Nothing remained but to go back to the road, and I was about to leave
again when the rays of the lantern fell upon a white object lying on the
floor.
<P>
I picked it up. It was a common square envelope. Thinking
it contained a letter I turned it over to read the address. Judge of my
astonishment when I read the following:&#151;
<P>
Dying Statement of Nicholas Weaver Concerning the Forgeries
for which Carson Strong Was Sent to State's Prison.
<h3>CHAPTER VII</h3>
<h4>A WAR OF WORDS</h4>
<P>
No words of mine can express the
feeling that came over me as I read the superscription written on the envelope
I had picked up in the old tool house.
<P>
Was it possible that this envelope contained the solution
of the mystery that had taken away our good name and sent my father to prison?
The very thought made me tremble.
<P>
The packet was not a thick one. In fact, it was so thin
that for an instant I imagined the envelope was empty. But a hasty examination
proved my fears groundless.
<P>
In nervous excitement I put the lantern down on the top
of a barrel, and then drew from the envelope the single shoot of foolscap
that it contained. A glance showed me that the pages were closely written
in a cramped hand extremely difficult to read.
<P>
For the moment I forgot everything else&#151; forgot that the
Widow Canby's house had been robbed and that I was on the track of the
robber&#151; and drawing close to the feeble light the lantern afforded, strove
with straining eyes and palpitating heart to decipher the contents of the
written pages.
<BLOCKQUOTE>
"I, Nicholas Weaver, being on the point of death from pneumonia, do make
  this my last statement, which I hereby swear is true in every particular."
</BLOCKQUOTE>
<P>
This was the beginning of the document which I hoped would
in some way free my father's character from the stain that now rested on
it.
<P>
Exactly who Nicholas Weaver was I did not know, though
it ran in my mind that I had heard this name mentioned by my father during
the trial.
<P>
Beyond the opening paragraph I have quoted the handwriting
was almost illegible, and in the dim light it was only here and there that
I could pick out such words as "bank," "assumed," "risk," "name," and so
forth, which gave but an inkling of the real contents of the precious document.
<P>
"It's too bad," was my thought. "I'd give all I possess
to be able to read this right off, word for word."
<P>
Hardly had the reflection crossed my mind when a noise
outside startled me. I had just time enough to thrust the paper into my pocket
when the door was swung open and the tramp appeared.
<P>
He was evidently as much surprised as I was, for he stopped
short in amazement, while the short pipe he carried between his lips fell
unnoticed to the floor.
<P>
I rightly conjectured he had not noticed the light of
the lantern and fully believed the tool house tenantless.
<P>
"You here!" he cried.
<P>
"It looks like it, doesn't it?" was all I could find to
reply, and as I spoke my hand sought the pistol I carried.
<P>
"What brought you here?" he demanded roughly.
<P>
"I came after you," I returned as coolly as I could; and
by this time I had the pistol where it could be brought into instant use.
<P>
"What do you want of me?"
<P>
"I want you to hand over the money you stole awhile ago."
<P>
"What are you talking about? I never stole any money."
<P>
"You did. You broke into the Widow Canby's house less
than an hour ago. Come, hand over that money."
<P>
The fellow gave a coarse laugh. "Ha! ha! do you think
I'm to be bluffed by a boy? Get home with you, before I hammer you for calling
me a thief."
<P>
"That's just what you are, and I don't intend to go until
you hand over the money, John Stumpy," I returned decidedly.
<P>
"Ha! you know my name?"
<P>
I bit my lip. I was sorry for the slip I had made. But
I put on a bold front. "I know what you are called," I replied.
<P>
"What I am called?"
<P>
"Yes."
<P>
"What do you mean? Come, out with it."
<P>
"I will when I please. In the meantime hand over that
money."
<P>
"You talk like a fool!" he cried.
<P>
"Never mind. You'll find I won't act like one."
<P>
"What do you know about me?" he went on curiously, believing,
no doubt, that he was perfectly safe from attack.
<P>
"I know more than you think. I know you are a burglar,
and may be worse."
<P>
"I'll kill you!" he cried, rushing forward.
<P>
"Stand where you are!" I returned, pulling out the pistol.
"Don't stir a step."
<P>
He did not see the weapon until he was fairly upon me.
The glint of the nickeled steel made him shiver.
<P>
"Don't shoot!" he cried in sudden terror, that showed
he was a coward at heart. "Don't&#151; don't shoot."
<P>
"I won't if you do as I tell you."
<P>
"Do what?"
<P>
"Give up the widow's money."
<P>
"See here, young fellow, you've made a mistake. I never
was near the widow's house, 'cepting this morning."
<P>
"I know better. You just broke open her desk and stole
over two hundred dollars."
<P>
"It's a mistake. Put down the pistol and I'll tell you
all about it."
<P>
"I'm not such a fool, Mr. John Stumpy, or whatever your
name is," was my decided reply.
<P>
The tone of my voice disconcerted the man, for he paused
as if not knowing what to say next.
<P>
"Say, young feller, do you want to make some money?" he
asked suddenly, after a short pause.
<P>
The change in his manner surprised me.
<P>
"How?" I asked, although I knew about what was coming.
<P>
"I've got nearly three hundred dollars in cash with me.
I'll give you fifty of it if you'll go home and say you couldn't find me."
<P>
"Thank you; I'm not doing business that way," I rejoined
coldly.
<P>
"Fifty dollars ain't to be sneezed at," he went on
insinuatingly.
<P>
"I wouldn't care if you offered me fifty thousand," I
cried sharply. "I'm no thief."
<P>
"Humph; don't you suppose I know who you are?" he went
on. "You're the son of a thief. Do you hear that?&#151; the son of a thief! What
right have you got to set yourself up to be any better than your father was
afore you?"
<P>
"Take care!" I cried, my blood fairly boiling as I spoke.
He saw his mistake.
<P>
"I didn't mean no harm, partner. But what's the use of
being high toned when it don't pay?"
<P>
"It always pays to be honest," I said firmly.
<P>
"There are those who don't think so any more than I,"
he replied.
<P>
"My father never was a thief. They may say all they please,
I will always think him innocent."
<P>
"Humph!"
<P>
"If it hadn't been for men like you and Nicholas Weaver,
my father would never be in prison."
<P>
The words were out before I knew it. They were most
injudicious ones.
<P>
"What do you mean?" gasped the man. "What do you know
about Nick Weaver?"
<P>
"More than you imagine. When he died he made a confession&#151;"
<P>
"It's false. Nick Weaver wasn't in his right mind when
he died, anyhow."
<P>
"Perhaps he was."
<P>
"What you&#151;" began the man. Then he paused and began a
rapid search in his pockets. "You've got that paper," he cried hoarsely.
"Give it up," and as he spoke, John Stumpy took a threatening step toward
me.
<P>
"Stand back!" and I raised the pistol.
<P>
I was trembling in every limb, but I actually believe
I would have fired it if he had rushed upon me.
<P>
"I won't. Give up that paper."
<P>
"Never. I'll die first."
<P>
And die I would. His earnestness convinced me of the letter's
worth. If it contained that which could clear my father's name, only death
would be the means of parting me from it.
<P>
"Give it up, I say! Do you think I'm to be defeated by
a boy?"
<P>
"Stand back!"
<P>
I raised the pistol on a level with his head. As I did
so, he made a dash forward and caught up a stick which was lying near.
<P>
"I'll fix you!" he roared, and swinging the billet over
his head, he brought it down with all his force on my arm, causing the pistol
to fly from my hand into a corner beyond.
<P>
"Now we'll see who's master here," he cried exultingly.
"You're a smart boy, but you don't know everything!" Rushing over to the
corner, he secured the pistol and aimed it at me. "Now, we'll settle this
matter according to my notions," he went on triumphantly.
<h3>CHAPTER VIII</h3>
<h4>THE STRUGGLE</h4>
<P>
I was deeply chagrined at the unexpected
turn affairs had taken, and I felt decidedly uncomfortable as John Stumpy
levelled the weapon at my head. I could readily see that the battle of words
was at an end. Action was now the order of the day. I wondered what the fellow
would do next; but I was not kept long in suspense.
<P>
"Now, it's my turn, young fellow," he remarked, with a
shrewd grin, as I fell back.
<P>
"Well, what do you want?" I asked, as coolly as I could
recognizing the fact that nothing was to be gained by "stirring him up."
<P>
"You'll see fast enough. In the first place, hand over
that paper."
<P>
I was silent. I did not intend to tell a falsehood by
saying I did not have it, nor did I intend to give it up if it could possibly
be avoided.
<P>
"Did you hear what I said?" continued Stumpy, after a
pause.
<P>
"I thought you said the paper wasn't valuable," I returned,
more to gain time than anything else.
<P>
"Neither it ain't, but, just the same, I want it. Come,
hand it over."
<P>
He was getting ugly now, and no mistake. What was to be
done?
<P>
As I have mentioned before, it would have been useless
to call for help, as no one would have heard the calls.
<P>
Suddenly the thought struck me to try a bit of deception.
I put my hand in my pocket and drew out the empty envelope.
<P>
"Is that what you want?" I asked, holding it up.
<P>
"Reckon it is," he returned eagerly. "Just toss it over."
<P>
Somewhat disappointed that he did not approach me and
thus give me a chance of attacking him, I did as requested. It fell at his
feet, and he was not long in transferring it to his pocket.
<P>
"Next time don't try to walk over a man like me," he said
sharply. "I know a thing or two, and I'm not to be downed by a boy."
<P>
"Are you satisfied?" I asked calmly, though secretly exultant
that he had not discovered my trick.
<P>
"Not yet. You followed me when you had no business to,
and now you've got to take the consequences."
<P>
"What are you going to do?"
<P>
"You'll see soon enough. I ain't the one to make many
mistakes. Years ago I made a few, but I ain't making no more."
<P>
"You knew my father quite well, didn't you?" I inquired
in deep curiosity.
<P>
"As the old saying goes, 'Ask me no questions and I'll
tell you no lies.' Maybe I didn't; maybe I did."
<P>
"I know you did."
<P>
"Well, what of it? So did lots of other people."
<P>
"But not quite as well as you and Nicholas Weaver and
Mr. Aaron Woodward," I continued, determined to learn all I could.
<P>
"Ha! What do you know of them?" He scowled at me. "Reckon
you've been reading that paper of Nick's putty closely. I was a fool for
not tearing it up long ago."
<P>
"Why did you keep it&#151; to deliver it to Mr. Wentworth?"
<P>
It was a bold stroke and it told. Stumpy grew pale in
spite of the dirt that covered his face, and the hand that held the pistol
trembled.
<P>
"Say, young fellow, you know too much, you do. I suppose
you read that paper clear through, did you?"
<P>
"As you say: Maybe I didn't; maybe I did."
<P>
"Perhaps you wasn't careful of it. Maybe I'd better examine
it," he added.
<P>
My heart sank within me. In another moment the deception
I had practised would be known&#151; and then?
<P>
He fumbled in his pocket and drew forth the envelope.
He could not extract the letter he supposed it contained with one hand very
well, and so lowered the pistol for a moment.
<P>
This was my chance. Unarmed I was evidently in his power.
If I could only escape from the tool house!
<P>
The door still stood partly open, and the darkness of
night&#151; for the moon had gone down&#151; was beyond. A dash and I would be outside.
Still the tramp stood between me and liberty. Should I attack him or endeavor
to slip to one side?
<P>
I had but an instant to think; another, and it would be
too late. John Stumpy was fumbling in the envelope. His eyes were searching
for the precious document.
<P>
With a single bound I sprang against him, knocking him
completely off his feet. Then I made another jump for the door.
<P>
But he was too quick for me. Dropping the envelope and
the pistol, he caught me by the foot, and in an instant both of us were rolling
on the floor.
<P>
It was an unequal struggle. Strong as I was for a boy
of my age, I was no match for this burly man. Turn and twist all I could,
he held me in his grip while he heaped loud imprecations upon my head.
<P>
In our movements on the floor we came in contact with
the lantern and upset it, smashing the frame as well as the glass.
<P>
For a moment darkness reigned. Then a tiny light from
the corner lit up the place. The flames had caught the shavings.
<P>
"The place is on fire!" I cried in horror.
<P>
"Yes, and you did it," replied the tramp.
<P>
"It was you!" I returned stoutly, and, as a matter of
fact, it may be as well to state that John Stumpy's foot had caused the accident.
<P>
"Not much; it was your fault, and you've got to take the
blame."
<P>
As the rascal spoke, he caught me by the throat, squeezing
it so tightly that I was in great danger of being choked to death.
<P>
"Let&#151; let up!" I gasped.
<P>
The choking continued. My head began to grow dizzy, and
strange lights danced before my eyes. I protested against this proceeding
as vigorously as I could by kicking the man sharply and rapidly.
<P>
But Stumpy now meant to do me real injury. He realized
that I knew too much for his future welfare. In fact, he, no doubt, imagined
I knew far more than I really did. If I was out of the way for all time so
much the better for him.
<P>
"Take that!" he suddenly cried, and springing up he brought
his heel down with great force on my head.
<P>
I cannot describe the sensation that followed. It was
as if a sharp, blinding pain had stung me to the very heart. Then my senses
forsook me.
<P>
How long I lay in a comatose state I do not know. Certainly
it could not have been a very long time&#151; probably not over five or six minutes.
<P>
In the meantime the fire rapidly spread igniting the barrels
that were stored in the tool house, and climbing up the walls of the building
to the roof.
<P>
When I recovered my senses, my face was fairly scorched,
and no sooner had I opened my eyes than they were blinded by smoke and flame.
<P>
By instinct rather than reason I staggered to my feet.
I was so weak I could hardly stand, and my head spun around like a top. Where
was the door?
<P>
I tottered to one side and felt around. There was the
window tightly closed. The door I knew was opposite.
<P>
Reeling, I made my way through the smoke that now seemed
to fill my lungs, to where I knew the door to be. Oh, horror! it was closed
and secured!
<P>
"Heaven help me now!" burst from my parched lips. "Am
I to be roasted alive?"
<P>
With all my remaining strength I threw myself against
the door. Once, and again, and still it did not budge.
<P>
"Help! help!" I called at the top of my voice.
<P>
No answer came to my cry. The fire behind me became hotter
and hotter. The roof had now caught, and the sparks fell down upon me in
a perfect shower.
<P>
Another moment and it would be all over. With a brief
prayer to God for help in my dire need, I attacked the door for the last
time.
<P>
At first it did not budge. Then there was a creaking,
a sharp crack, and at last it flew wide open.
<P>
Oh, how grateful was the breath of fresh air that struck
me! I stumbled out into the clearing and opened wide my throat to take in
the pure draught.
<P>
Then for the first time I realized how nearly I had been
overcome. I could no longer stand, and swooning, sank in a heap to the ground.
<h3>CHAPTER IX</h3>
<h4>NEW TROUBLE</h4>
<P>
"He's alive, boys."
<P>
These were the words that greeted my ears on recovering
my senses. I opened my eyes and saw that I was surrounded by a number of
boys and men.
<P>
"How did you come here?" asked Henry Morse, a sturdy farmer
who lived in the neighborhood.
<P>
I was too much confused to make any intelligent reply.
Rising to a sitting position, I gazed around.
<P>
The tool house had burned to the ground, there being no
means at hand to extinguish the fire. The glare of the conflagration had
called out several dozens of people from Darbyville and the vicinity, several
of whom had stumbled upon me as I lay in the clearing.
<P>
"What's the matter, Roger?" asked Larry Simpson, a young
man who kept a bookstore in the town.
<P>
"The matter is that I nearly lost my life in that fire,"
I replied.
<P>
"How did you come here?"
<P>
As briefly as I could I related my story, leaving out
all references to my personal affairs and the finding of Nicholas Weaver's
statement. At present I considered it would do no good to disclose what I
knew on those points.
<P>
"I think I saw that tramp yesterday," said Larry after
I had finished. "He bought a sheet of paper and an envelope in my store,
and then asked if he could write a letter there."
<P>
"And did he?" I asked in curiosity.
<P>
"Yes. At first I hated to let him do it,&#151; he looked so
disreputable,&#151; but then I thought it might be an application for a position,
and so told him to go ahead."
<P>
"Who did he write to? do you know?"
<P>
"Somebody in Chicago, I think."
<P>
"Do you remember the name?"
<P>
"He tried the pen on a slip of paper first. It wouldn't
work very well. But I think the name was Holtzmann, or something similar."
<P>
I determined to remember the name, thinking it might prove
of value sometime.
<P>
"The thing of it is," broke in Henry Morse, "what has
become of this Stumpy? If he stole the Widow Canby's money, it's high time
somebody was after him."
<P>
"That's true," ejaculated another. "Have you any idea
which way the fellow went?"
<P>
Of course I had not. Indeed, I was hardly in condition
to do any rational thinking, much less form an opinion. The thief might be
in hiding close at hand, or he might be miles away.
<P>
"Some of us had better make a search," put in another.
"Come, boys, we'll spread out and scour the woods."
<P>
"That's a good idea," said Tony Parsons, the constable
of the town. "Meanwhile, Roger Strong, let us go to Judge Penfold's house
and put the case in his hands. He'll get out a warrant, and perhaps a reward."
<P>
I thought this was a good idea, and readily assented,
first, however, getting one of the boys to promise that he would call at
the widow's house and quiet Kate's fears concerning my whereabouts.
<P>
It was now early morning, and we had no difficulty in
making our way through the woods to the main road.
<P>
"Guess we won't find the judge up yet," remarked Tony
Parsons as we hurried along. "I've never yet found him out of bed afore seven
o'clock. It will make him mighty mad to get up afore this time."
<P>
"I'm sorry to disturb him," I replied, with something
of awe at the thought of rousing a magistrate of the law.
<P>
"But it's got to be done," went on Parsons, with a grave
shake of his head, "unless we all want to be murdered and robbed in our beds!"
<P>
"That's true. I'd give all I'm worth to catch that tramp."
<P>
"Reckon Widow Canby'll be dreadfully cut up when she hears
about the robbery."
<P>
"I suppose so."
<P>
"She may blame you, Roger. You see if it was anybody else,
it would be different. But being as it's you, why&#151;"
<P>
"I know what you mean," I returned bitterly. "No one in
Darbyville believes I can be honest."
<P>
"I ain't saying nothing against you, Roger," returned
Parsons, hastily. "I reckon you ain't no worse than any other boy. But you
know what public sentiment is."
<P>
"So I do; but public sentiment isn't always right," was
my spirited answer.
<P>
"Who did you say those boys were that tied you up?" went
on the constable, to change the subject.
<P>
"Duncan Woodward was the principal one."
<P>
"Phew! Reckon he didn't think tying you up would prove
such a serious matter."
<P>
"If it hadn't been for that, the robbery might have been
prevented. I would have been home guarding the widow's property, as she expected
me to do."
<P>
"Reckon so you would."
<P>
"In a certain sense I hold Duncan Woodward and his followers
responsible for what has occurred."
<P>
"Phew! What will Mr. Woodward say to that, I wonder?"
<P>
"I can't help what he says. I'm not going to bear all
the blame when it isn't my fault."
<P>
"No, neither would I."
<P>
At length we reached the outskirts of the town. Judge
Penfold lived at the top of what was termed the Hill, the aristocratic district
of the place, and thither we made our way.
<P>
"Indeed, but the judge ain't stirring yet!" exclaimed
the Irish girl who came to answer our summons at the door.
<P>
"Then wake him at once," said Parsons. "Tell him there
has been a most atrocious robbery and assault committed."
<P>
"Mercy on us!" said the girl, lifting up her hands in
horror. "And who was it, Mr. Parsons?"
<P>
"Never mind who it was. Go at once."
<P>
"I will that! Robbery and assault. Mercy on us!"
<P>
And leaving us standing in the hall, the hired girl sped
up the front stairway.
<P>
"The judge will be down as soon as he can," she reported
on her return.
<P>
We waited as patiently as we could. While doing so I revolved
what had occurred over in my mind, and came to the conclusion that the crime
would be a difficult one to trace. John Stumpy had probably made good use
of his time, knowing that even if I had lost my life in the fire my sister
would still recognize him as the thief.
<P>
Suddenly I thought of the written confession that must
yet remain in my pocket, and I was on the point of assuring myself that it
was still safe when a heavy foot-step sounded overhead, and Judge Penfold
came down.
<P>
The judge was a tall, slender men of fifty, with hollow
cheeks, a pointed nose, and a sharp chin. His voice was of a peculiarly high
and rasping tone, and his manner far from agreeable.
<P>
"What's the trouble?" he demanded, and it was plain to
see that he did not relish having his early morning sleep broken.
<P>
"Widow Canby's house was robbed last night," replied the
constable; and he gave the particulars.
<P>
Judge Penfold was all ears at once. Indeed, it may be
as well to state that he was a widower and had paid Widow Canby much attention,
which, however, I well knew that good lady heartily resented. No doubt he
thought if he could render her any assistance it would help along his suit.
<P>
"We must catch the fellow at once," he said. "Parsons,
you must catch him without fail."
<P>
"Easier said than done, judge," replied the constable,
doubtfully. "Where am I to look for him? The country around here is pretty
large."
<P>
"No matter. You are constable, and it is your duty to
seek him out. I will sign the warrant for his arrest, and you must have him
in jail by to-night, without fail."
<P>
"I'll do what I can, judge," returns Parsons, meekly.
<P>
"Strong, I'll have to bind you over as a witness."
<P>
"Bind me over?" I queried in perplexity. "What do you
mean?"
<P>
"Hold you, unless you can give a bond to appear when wanted."
<P>
"But I had nothing to do with the burglary."
<P>
"You are principal accuser of this John Stumpy."
<P>
"Well, I'll promise to be on hand whenever wanted."
<P>
"That is not sufficient. Your character is&#151; is not&#151; ahem!
of the best, and&#151;"
<P>
"Why is my character not of the best?" I demanded.
<P>
"Well, ahem! Your father, you see&#151;"
<P>
"Is innocent."
<P>
"Perhaps&#151; perhaps, but, nevertheless, I will have to hold
you. Parsons, I will leave him in your charge."
<P>
"You have no right to arrest me," I cried, for I knew
very little of the law.
<P>
"What's that?" demanded Judge Penfold, pompously. "You
forget I am the judge of that."
<P>
"I don't care," I burst out. "I have done no wrong."
<P>
"It ain't that, Roger. Many innocent men are held as
witnesses," put in Parsons.
<P>
"But I've got to attend to Mrs. Canby's business," I
explained.
<P>
"I fancy Mrs. Canby would rather get on the track of her
money," said Judge Penfold severely. "Can you furnish bail?"
<P>
I did not know that I could. The woman who had been robbed
was my only friend, and she was away.
<P>
"Then you'll have to take him to the lockup, Parsons."
<P>
This news was far from agreeable. It would be no pleasant
thing to be confined in the Darbyville jail, not to say anything of the anxiety
it might cause Kate. Besides, I wanted to follow up John Stumpy. I was certain
I could do it fully as well as the constable.
<P>
"Come, Roger, there is no help for it," said Parsons,
as I still lingered. "It's the law, and it won't do any good to kick."
<P>
"Maybe not, but, nevertheless, it isn't fair."
<P>
We walked out into the front hall, the judge following
us.
<P>
"Of course if you can get bail any time during the day
I will let you go," he said; "I will be down in my office from nine to twelve
and two to four."
<P>
"Will you offer a reward for the capture of the man?"
I asked.
<P>
"I cannot do that. The freeholders of the county attend
to all such matters. Parsons, no doubt, will find the scoundrel."
<P>
As the judge finished there was a violent ringing of the
door bell. Judge Penfold opened the door and was confronted by Mr. Aaron
Woodward, who looked pale and excited.
<P>
"Judge, I want you&#151; hello! that boy! Judge, I want that
boy arrested at once! Don't you let him escape!"
<P>
"Want me arrested?" I ejaculated in astonishment. "What
for?"
<P>
"You know well enough. You thought to hide your tracks,
but I have found you out. Parsons, don't let him get out of the door. He's
a worse villain than his father was!"
<h3>CHAPTER X</h3>
<h4>UNDER ARREST</h4>
<P>
I will not hesitate to state that
I was nearly stunned by Mr. Aaron Woodward's unexpected statement. I knew
that when he announced that I was a worse villain than my father he meant
a good deal.
<P>
Yet try as hard as I could it was impossible for me to
discover what he really did mean. I was not conscious of having done him
any injury, either bodily or otherwise. Indeed, of late I had hardly seen
the man. The Widow Canby was not partial to dealings with him, and I never
went near him on my own account.
<P>
It was plain to see that the merchant was thoroughly aroused.
His face was pale with anger, and the look he cast upon me was one of bitter
resentment. For the instant he eyed me as if he intended to spring upon me
and choke the life out of my body, and involuntarily I shrank back. But then
I recollected that the minions of the law who stood beside me would not allow
such a course of procedure, and this made me breathe more freely.
<P>
"Yes, sir; he's a worse villain than his father!" repeated
Mr. Aaron Woodward, turning to Judge Penfold; "a most accomplished villain,
sir." And he shook his fist within an inch of my nose.
<P>
"What have I done to you, Mr. Woodward?" I demanded, as
soon as I could speak.
<P>
"Done, sir? You know very well what you've done, you young
rascal!" puffed the merchant. "Oh, but I'll make you pay dearly for your
villainy."
<P>
"I've committed no villainy," I returned warmly. "If you
refer to the way I treated Duncan this morning, why all I've got to say is
that it was his own fault, and I can prove it."
<P>
"Treated Duncan? Oh, pshaw! This is far more serious affair
than a boy's quarrel. Don't let him escape, Parsons"&#151; the last to the constable,
who had his hand on my shoulder.
<P>
"No fear, sir," was Parson's reply. "He's already under
arrest."
<P>
"Under arrest?" repeated the merchant quickly. "Then you've
already heard&#151;"
<P>
"He is ahem&#151; only under detention as a witness," spoke
up Judge Penfold. "I do not think he had anything to do with the theft of
the widow's money."
<P>
"Widow's money! What do you mean?"
<P>
In a few words Judge Penfold explained the situation.
"Isn't this what you came about?" he asked then.
<P>
"Indeed, no, sir. My affair is far more important&#151; at
least to me. But you can make up your mind that Strong's story is purely
fiction. He is undoubtedly the real culprit, undoubtedly. Takes after his
father."
<P>
"My father was an honest man!" I cried out. "I don't care
what you or any one may say! Some day he will be cleared of the stain on
his name."
<P>
"Oh, undoubtedly," sneered Mr. Woodward. "Mean while,
however, the community at large had better keep a sharp eye on his son. Whom
do you assert stole the Widow Canby's money?"
<P>
"A tramp."
<P>
"Humph! A likely story."
<P>
"It's true. His name was John Stumpy."
<P>
"John Stumpy!"
<P>
As Mr. Aaron Woodwind uttered the name, all the color
forsook his face.
<P>
"Yes, sir. And he claimed to know you," I went on, my
curiosity amused over the merchant's show of feeling.
<P>
"It's a falsehood! I never heard of such a man," cried
Mr. Woodward, but his face belied his words.
<P>
"Well, what is your charge against Strong?" asked Judge
Penfold, impatiently, probably tired of being so utterly ignored in the
discussion.
<P>
The merchant hesitated.
<P>
"I prefer to speak to you about the matter in private,"
he said sourly.
<P>
"That isn't fair. He ought to tell me what I am accused
of," I cried, "Every one who is arrested has a right to know that. I have
done no wrong and I am not afraid."
<P>
"All assumed bravery, Judge Penfold; quite assumed, sir."
<P>
"No, sir. Tell me why you want me locked up," I repeated.
<P>
But instead of replying Mr. Woodward drew Judge Penfold
to the rear end of the hall and began to speak in so low a tone that I could
not catch a word.
<P>
"You don't mean it!" I heard the judge say presently.
"Come into the library and give me the particulars."
<P>
The two men passed into the room, closing the door tightly
behind them. They were gone nearly quarter of an hour&#151; a long wait for me.
I wondered what could be the nature of Mr. Woodward's accusation against
me, but failed to solve the mystery.
<P>
At length they came out. Judge Penfold's face was a trifle
sterner than before. Mr. Woodward looked pleased, as if his argument had
proven conclusive.
<P>
"You will take Strong to the jail at once," said the judge
to Parsons "and tell Booth to be careful of his prisoner."
<P>
"Yes, sir."
<P>
"Don't let him escape," added Aaron Woodward, anxiously.
"Don't let him escape, sir, under any circumstances."
<P>
"No fear," was Parsons's ready answer. "I never had one
of 'em give me the slip yet."
<P>
And with great gravity he drew from his pocket a pair
of ancient handcuffs, one of which he attached to my wrist and the other
to his own.
<P>
"Come, Roger. Better take it easy," he said. "No use of
kicking. March!"
<P>
"But I'd like to know something about this," I protested.
"What right&#151;"
<P>
"It is all quite legal," put in Judge Penfold, pompously.
"I understand the law perfectly."
<P>
"But&#151;"
<P>
"Say no more. Parsons, take him away."
<P>
"I shall see you later," whispered Mr. Woodward in my
ear as the constable hurried me off.
<P>
The next instant we were on the street. Arrests in Darbyville
were rare, and by the time we reached the jail we had a goodly following
of boys and idle men, all anxious to know what was up.
<P>
"He stole the Widow Canby's money," I heard one man whisper,
to which another replied:&#151;
<P>
"Light fingered, eh? Must take after his father. I always
knew the Strongs couldn't be trusted."
<P>
The jail was a small affair, being nothing more than the
loft over a carpenter shop. The jailer was a round-faced man named Booth,
who filled in his spare time by doing odd jobs of carpentering in the shop
downstairs. We found him hard at work glueing some doors together. I knew
him tolerably well, and he evinced considerable surprise at seeing me in
custody.
<P>
"What, Roger; arrested! What for?"
<P>
"That's what I would like to know," I returned.
<P>
In a few words Parsons told him what was to be done, and
Booth led the way upstairs.
<P>
"&nbsp;'Tain't a very secure place," he returned. "Reckon
I'll have to nail down some of the windows unless you'll give me your word
not to run away."
<P>
"I'll promise nothing," was my reply. "I'm being treated
unfairly, and I shall do as I think best."
<P>
"Then I'll fasten everything as tight as a drum," returned
Booth.
<P>
Going below, he secured a hammer and some nails, with
which he secured the windows and the scuttle on the roof.
<P>
"Reckon it's tight enough now," he said. "Just wait, Parsons,
till I get him a bucket of water."
<P>
This was done, and then the two men left me, closing and
locking the door of the enclosed staircase behind them.
<P>
The loft was empty, saving a nail keg that stood in one
corner of the floor. Pulling this out, I sat down to think matters over.
<P>
Try my best I could not imagine what charge Mr. Aaron
Woodward had brought against me. Yet such had been his earnestness that for
the nonce everything else was driven from my mind.
<P>
The sounds of talking below interrupted my meditations.
I recognized Kate's voice, and the next moment my sister stood beside me.
<P>
"Oh, Roger!" was all she could say, and catching me by
the arm she burst into tears.
<P>
"Don't take it so hard, Kate," I said. "Make sure it will
all come out right in the end."
<P>
"But to be arrested like&#151; like a thief! Oh, Roger, it
is dreadful!"
<P>
"Never mind. I have done no wrong, and I'm not afraid
of the result. Have they heard anything of John Stumpy yet?"
<P>
"Dick Blair says not. Mr. Parsons and the rest are after
him, but he seems to have disappeared for good&#151; and Mrs. Canby's money with
him."
<P>
"Have you heard from her yet?"
<P>
"No; but I've written her a letter and just posted it
to Norfolk."
<P>
"She won't get it till day after to-morrow."
<P>
"What will she say? Oh, Roger, do you think&#151;"
<P>
"No, I don't. The widow always trusted me, and I know
she'll take my word now. She is not so narrow-minded as the very folks who
look down on her."
<P>
"But it is awful! Over two hundred dollars! We can never
make it up. We've only got twenty-eight!"
<P>
"We can't exactly be called upon to make it up&#151;" I began.
<P>
"But we'll want to," put in Kate, hastily.
<P>
"I'd feel better if we did. The widow has always been
so kind to us."
<P>
"How long must you stay here?"
<P>
"I don't know. As long as Judge Penfold sees fit, I suppose."
<P>
"If only they could catch this John Stumpy."
<P>
"I hope so&#151; for other reasons than those you know, Kate."
<P>
"Other reasons?"
<P>
"Yes; very important ones, too. John Stumpy knew father
well. And he was mixed up in that&#151; that miserable affair."
<P>
"Oh, Roger, how do you know?"
<P>
"I heard him say so. Besides, he dropped a letter that
proved it. I have the letter in my pocket now. It's the dying statement of
one Nicholas Weaver&#151;"
<P>
"Nicholas Weaver! He was a clerk with father!"
<P>
"So I thought. Who Stumpy is, though, I don't know. Do
you?"
<P>
"No; but his face I'm sure I've seen before. Let me see
the letter. Have you read it?"
<P>
"No; I hadn't time to spell it out, it is so badly written.
Maybe you can read it."
<P>
"I'll try," replied Kate. "Hand it over."
<P>
I put my hand in my pocket to do so. The statement was
gone!
<h3>CHAPTER XI</h3>
<h4>AARON WOODWARD'S VISIT</h4>
<P>
Puzzled and dismayed, I made a rapid
search of my clothes&#151; first one pocket and then another. It was useless.
Beyond a doubt the statement was nowhere about my person.
<P>
I was quite sure it had not been taken from me. Strange
as it may seem, neither Parsons nor Booth had searched me. Perhaps they deemed
it useless to take away the possessions of a poor country boy. My jack-knife
and other odds and ends were still in their accustomed places.
<P>
"It's gone!" I gasped, when I was certain that such was
a fact.
<P>
"Gone?" repeated Kate.
<P>
"Yes, gone, and I don't know where. They didn't take it
from me. I must have lost it."
<P>
"Oh, Roger, and it was so important!"
<P>
"I know it, Kate. It must have dropped from my pocket
down at the tool house. Perhaps if I go down I can find it."
<P>
"Go down?" she queried.
<P>
"Oh, I forgot I was a prisoner."
<P>
"Never mind, Roger. I'll go down myself."
<P>
"Aren't you afraid?"
<P>
"Not now. I wouldn't have been of this Stumpy only he
came on me so suddenly. I'll go at once."
<P>
"You'd better," said a voice behind her. "Your five minutes
is up, Miss Kate." And Booth appeared at the head of the stairs and motioned
her down.
<P>
"Good-by, Roger. I'm so sorry to leave you here alone."
<P>
"It's not such a dreadful place," I rejoined lightly.
"If you discover anything, let me know at once."
<P>
"Be sure I will." And with this assurance Kate was gone.
<P>
I was as sorry for her as I was for myself. I knew all
she would have to face in public&#151; the mean things people would say to her,
the snubbing she would be called on to bear.
<P>
The loss of the statement rendered me doubly downhearted.
Oh, how much I had counted on it, assuring myself over and over again that
it would surely clear my father's name!
<P>
Hardly had my sister left me than there were more voices
below, and I heard Mr. Woodward tell Booth that he had an order from Judge
Penfold for a private interview with me.
<P>
"Better go right upstairs then, Mr. Woodward," was the
jailer's reply. "He's all alone."
<P>
I wondered what the merchant's visit could portend, but
had little time for speculation.
<P>
"So, sir, they've got you fast," said Mr. Woodward sharply
as he faced me. "Fast, and no mistake."
<P>
"What do you want?" I demanded boldly, coming at once
to the front.
<P>
"What do I want?" repeated the merchant, looking behind
him to make sure that Booth had not followed him. "What do I want? Why, I
want to help you, Strong, that's what I want."
<P>
I could not help but smile. The idea of Mr. Woodward helping
any one, least of all myself!
<P>
"The only way you can help me is to set me free," I returned.
<P>
"Oh, I can't do that. You are held on the Canby charge
solely."
<P>
"But you told me you wanted me arrested."
<P>
"So I did, but I intend to give you a chance&#151; that is,
if you will do what I want."
<P>
"But why did you want me arrested?"
<P>
"You know well enough, Strong."
<P>
"On the contrary, I haven't the least idea."
<P>
"Stuff and nonsense. See here, if you want to get off
without further trouble, hand over those papers."
<P>
"What papers?"
<P>
"The papers you took last night," replied Mr. Woodward,
sharply.
<P>
I was truly astonished. How in the world had he found
out about the statement dropped by Stumpy? Was it possible there had been
a meeting between the two? It looked like it.
<P>
"I haven't got the papers," I rejoined.
<P>
"Don't tell me a falsehood sir," he thundered.
<P>
"It's true."
<P>
"Do you deny you have the packet?"
<P>
"I do."
<P>
"Come, Strong, that story won't answer. Hand it over."
<P>
"I haven't it."
<P>
"Where is it?"
<P>
"I lost it," I replied, before I had time to think.
<P>
"Lost it!" he cried anxiously.
<P>
"Yes, sir," I returned boldly, resolved to make the best
of it, now the cat was out of the bag. "Either that or it was stolen from
me."
<P>
He looked at me in silence for a moment.
<P>
"Do you expect me to believe all your lies?" he demanded
finally.
<P>
"I don't care what you believe," I answered. "I tell the
truth. And one question I want to ask you, Aaron Woodward. Why are you so
anxious to gain possession of Nicholas Weaver's dying statement?"
<P>
The merchant gave a cry of astonishment, nay, horror.
He turned pale and glared at me fiercely.
<P>
"Nicholas Weaver's dying statement!" he ejaculated. "What
do you know of Nicholas Weaver?"
<P>
Now I had spoken I was almost sorry I had said what I
had. Yet I could not but notice the tremendous effect my words had produced.
<P>
"Never mind what I know," I replied. "Why do you take
an interest in it?"
<P>
"I? I don't know anything about it," he faltered. "I hardly
knew Nicholas Weaver."
<P>
"Indeed? Yet you want his statement."
<P>
"No, I don't. I don't know anything about his statement,"
he continued doggedly. "I want my papers. I don't care a rap about any one
else's."
<P>
It was now my turn to be astonished. Evidently I had been
on the wrong track from the beginning.
<P>
"If you don't want his statement, I'm sure I don't know
what you do want," I rejoined, and I spoke the exact truth.
<P>
"Don't tell lies, Strong. You know well enough. Hand them
over."
<P>
"Hand what over?"
<P>
"The packet of papers."
<P>
"I haven't any packet."
<P>
"Strong, if you don't do as I demand, I'll send you to
prison after your father."
<P>
"I can't help it. I haven't any papers. If you don't believe
me, search me."
<P>
"Where have you hidden them?"
<P>
"I never had them to hide."
<P>
"I know better, sir, I know better," he fumed.
<P>
I made no reply. What could I say?
<P>
"Do you hear me, Strong?"
<P>
For reply I walked over to the slatted window and began
to whistle. My action only increased the merchant's anger.
<P>
"For the last time, Strong, will you give up the papers?"
he cried.
<P>
"For the last time, Mr. Woodward, let me say I haven't
got them, never had them, and, therefore, cannot possibly give them up."
<P>
"Then you shall go to prison, sir. Mark my word,&#151; you
shall go to prison!"
<P>
And with this parting threat the merchant hurried down
the loft steps and rapped loudly for Booth to come and let him out.
<P>
When he was gone, I sat down again to think over the demand
he had made upon me. To what papers did he refer? In vain I cudgelled my
brain to elicit an answer.
<P>
He spoke about sending me to prison, and in such tones
as if it were an easy matter to do. Assuredly he must have some grounds upon
which to base so positive an assertion.
<P>
No doubt he was now on his way to Judge Penfold's office
to swear out the necessary papers. I did not know much about the law, but
I objected strongly to going to prison. Once in a regular lockup, the chances
of getting out would be indeed slim.
<P>
I reasoned that the best thing to do was to escape while
there was a chance. Perhaps I was wrong in this conclusion, but I was only
a country boy, and I had a horror of stone walls and iron bars.
<P>
Escape! No sooner had the thought entered my mind than
I was wrapped up in it. Undoubtedly it was the best thing to do. Freedom
meant not only liberty, but also a chance to hunt down John Stumpy and clear
my father's name.
<P>
I looked about the loft for the best means of accomplishing
my purpose. As I have said, the place was over a carpenter shop. The roof
was sloping to the floor, and at each end was a small window heavily slatted.
<P>
The distance to the ground from the window was not less
than fifteen feet, rather a long drop even if I could manage to get the slats
loose, which I doubted, for I had no tools at hand.
<P>
I resolved to try the door, and was about to do so when
I heard the bolts shoot back and Booth appeared.
<P>
For an instant I thought to trip him up and rush past
him, but he stood on the steps completely blocking the way.
<P>
"All right, Roger?" he asked.
<P>
"Yes, sir."
<P>
"Quite com'table, boy?"
<P>
"As comfortable as any one could be in such a place,"
I rejoined lightly.
<P>
"&nbsp;'Tain't exactly a parlor," he chuckled. "No easy
chairs or sofys; but the food's good. I'm a-going to get it for you now.
Then after that maybe the judge will call around. I'll bring the dinner in
a minute."
<P>
He climbed downstairs, bolting the door after him.
<P>
In five minutes&#151; or ten at the most&#151; I knew he would be
back. After that there was no telling how long he would stay.
<P>
Now, therefore, was the proper time to escape, now or
never!
<h3>CHAPTER XII</h3>
<h4>A SURPRISE</h4>
<P>
No time must be lost. Booth lived
but a short hundred feet from the jail, if such it might be called, and if
his wife had dinner ready it would not take him long to bring it.
<P>
I surveyed the room in which I was incarcerated critically.
Escape by either window was, as I have intimated, out of the question. On
account of its height, the scuttle was also not to be considered.
<P>
Apparently nothing remained to try but the door. Running
down the steps, I looked it over. It was of solid oak planking, an inch thick,
and fastened at both top and bottom.
<P>
It was a hard thing to tackle, especially with no tools,
and, after surveying it, I went upstairs again to search for something that
might do as a pry.
<P>
I could see nothing but the empty nail keg, and I could
discover no use at first in this until the idea struck me of wedging it between
one of the lower steps and the door, and, by jumping upon it, forcing the
bottom bolt.
<P>
With some difficulty I placed the keg in position and
brought down my full weight upon it. The first time the bolt merely creaked,
but the second there was a snap, and the lower part of the door burst outward
several inches.
<P>
The bottom bolt had yielded, and now only the top one
remained. But to reach this was a difficult matter, as no purchase could
be had against it.
<P>
While considering the situation, I imagined I heard my
jailer returning, and my heart jumped into my throat. What if Booth should
see the damage I had done? I reckoned that things would go hard with me if
it became known that I had attempted to break jail. Judge Penfold would surely
give me the full penalty of the law.
<P>
But the approach of Booth was only imaginary, and, after
a brief interval of silence, I breathed freer.
<P>
I ascends the stairs once more to see if I could not find
something besides the keg to assist me. If only I had a plank or a beam,
I might use it as a battering-ram.
<P>
The thought of a plank led me to examine the floor, and,
going over it carefully, I soon came to a short board, one end of which was
loose. Raising it, I pulled with all my might, and the board came up.
<P>
I was astonished to see that it made an opening into the
shop below. I had imagined that the floor or ceiling was of double thickness.
<P>
This gave me a new idea. Why not escape through the floor?
To pry up another board would perhaps be easier than to force the door.
<P>
I tried the board next to the opening. The end was somewhat
rotted, and it came up with hardly an effort.
<P>
In another moment the opening would be large enough to
allow the passage of my body. Putting the first board under the edge of the
second, I bore down upon it.
<P>
As I did so I heard a noise that alarmed me greatly. It
was the sound of Booth returning, and the next instant the carpenter had
opened the outer door and entered.
<P>
In one hand he carried a tray containing my dinner. He
crossed the floor directly under me without looking up. Then his eyes caught
the shattered door and he gave a loud exclamation.
<P>
"By ginger! If that boy ain't gone and escaped!"
<P>
He set down the tray with a rattle and tried to pull the
door open. But the top bolt had become displaced, and it was several seconds
before it could be shot back.
<P>
Meanwhile I was not idle. As quietly as I could I tore
up the second board. The deed was done just as Booth stumbled over the keg
on his way up the stairs.
<P>
As my jailer appeared at the top, I let my body through
the opening. It was a tight squeeze, especially when accomplished in a hurry.
I landed in a heap on a pile of shavings.
<P>
"Stop! stop!" called out Booth. "Roger, don't you hear
me?"
<P>
I certainly did hear him, but paid no attention to his
words. My one thought was to get away as quickly as possible.
<P>
"If you don't stop, I'll shoot you," went on Booth at
the top of his voice. "Don't you know breaking jail is a&#151; a felony?"
<P>
I did not know what kind of a crime it was. I had made
up my mind to escape, and intended to do so, even if such a deed constituted
manslaughter. I made a break for the door and passed out just as Booth came
tramping down the stairs.
<P>
I ran across the yard that separated the carpenter shop
from the house. As I did so, Mrs. Booth appeared at the back door. Upon seeing
me she held up her hands in horror.
<P>
"Mercy on us! Roger Strong! Where be you a-running to?
'Zekel! 'Zekel! the prisoner's broke loose!"
<P>
"I know it, Mandy!" I heard Ezekiel Booth answer. "Dunno
how he did it, though. Stop, Roger, it's best now; jest you mark my word!"
<P>
I heard no more. Jumping the side fence, I ran through
a bit of orchard and across a stony lot until I reached the Pass River.
<P>
At this point this body of water was several hundred feet
wide. The bank sloped directly to the water's edge. Near at hand were several
private boat-houses, one belonging to Mr. Aaron Woodward, he having built
it to please Duncan.
<P>
At the end of the boat-house pier lay a skiff, the oars
resting upon the seats. I knew it was wrong to make use of the craft, but
"necessity knows no law," and my need was great.
<P>
Running down to the end of the pier, I dropped into the
boat and shoved off. As I did so, Duncan Woodward, accompanied by Pultzer,
came out of the boat-house.
<P>
"Hi, there, what are you doing in my boat?" he sang out.
"What, Roger Strong!" he continued as he came nearer.
<P>
"You must lend me the boat, Duncan," I returned. "I've
got to cross the river in a hurry."
<P>
"Not much! I thought you were in jail."
<P>
"Not just now," I replied. "You can get your boat on the
other side."
<P>
"Hold up! You shan't have her. Come back!"
<P>
But I was already pulling out into the stream. He continued
to shout after me, and presently I saw the two joined by Booth, and all watched
me in dismay as I made for the opposite shore.
<P>
Reaching the bank, I beached the boat high up and then
climbed to the roadway that ran beside the stream. Trees and bushes were
thick here, and I had but little difficulty in hiding from the view of those
opposite.
<P>
For a moment I hesitated as to which way to proceed. A
number of miles down the stream lay Newville, of which I have already spoken.
Probably my pursuers would think I had gone in that direction. If so, they
would hasten to the bridge below, with the intention of cutting me off.
<P>
I therefore started immediately on my way up the river
road, resolved to put as much ground as possible between myself and my pursuers.
I had no definite destination in view, but thought to gain some hiding-place
where I might rest secure and think things over.
<P>
It was now going on to two o'clock in the afternoon, and
as I had not had anything to eat since the noon previous, I began to feel
decidedly hungry. I felt in my pocket and discovered that I was the possessor
of sixty-five cents, and with this amount of cash I did not see any reason
for my remaining hungry any longer.
<P>
Presently I came to a small, white cottage, upon the front
porch of which was displayed the sign
<P ALIGN=CENTER class=center>
BOARDING
<P>
Ascending the steps, I knocked at the door, and a comely,
middle-aged woman answered my summons.
<P>
"I see that you take boarders here," I said, "I am hungry,
and several miles from any restaurant. Can you furnish me with dinner?"
<P>
She looked me over rather sharply before replying. Then
I realize for the first time that my appearance was not of the best. My clothes
were considerably the worse for having rolled over and over in the old tool
house, and in escaping from my prison I had made several rents in my coat.
<P>
"I will pay you whatever you charge," I added hastily,
"and I would like to wash and brush up, too; I have had a tumble," which
was literally true.
<P>
"I can let you have dinner for twenty-five cent," she
said finally. "I won't charge you anything for cleaning up," she added, with
something like a smile. "Will you mind paying in advance?"
<P>
"No, ma'am," and I handed over the money. "I suppose I
won't have to wait very long."
<P>
"Oh, no, the regular boarders have just finished. You
can sit right down."
<P>
"If you don't mind, I'll take a wash first."
<P>
The woman led the way to an ante-room, in which were placed
a bowl of water, towel, and soap, as well as a dust brush. It did not take
me long to fix myself up, and then I flattered myself I did not present an
unbecoming appearance.
<P>
The dinner that the woman served was not as good as that
which my sister Kate helped to prepare at the Widow Canby's, but it was wholesome
food, and my sharpened appetite made it disappear rapidly.
<P>
As I ate I reflected upon my situation. For the life of
me I did not know what to do next. I longed to see my sister and tell her
that I was safe. This done, I intended to devote my time to hunting up the
man who I firmly believed held my father's reputation in his hand. I was
sure I would discover him sooner or later, and this accomplished, I would
not let him out of my sight until he had confessed his secret. I wondered
if Kate had succeeded in finding that precious statement I had lost. Heartily
did I reproach myself for not having taken better care of it.
<P>
Having satisfied myself upon the substantial things set
before me, I finished my meal with a small cut of apple pie.
<P>
As I was swallowing the last mouthful I glanced out of
the window up the road, and gave a cry of surprise. And no wonder, for coming
toward the house was Mr. Aaron Woodward, and beside him walked John Stumpy!
<h3>CHAPTER XIII</h3>
<h4>AN INTERESTING CONVERSATION</h4>
<P>
I could hardly believe the evidence
of my senses when I saw Mr. Aaron Woodward coming up the road with John Stumpy
beside him. It would have astonished me to have seen the merchant alone,
but to see him in company with the very man I was looking for was more than
I had thought possible.
<P>
Yet I reflected that the tramp&#151; or whatever the man was&#151; had
evinced a determination to secure an interview with Mr. Woodward before quitting
Darbyville. There was important business to be transacted between them. Mr.
John Stumpy intended to have his say, whatever that might mean.
<P>
What was to be done? It would never do for me to be seen.
Nothing short of arrest would follow. I must get out of the way as quickly
as possible.
<P>
During the time I had been eating, the sky had become
overcast as if a shower was imminent. Taking advantage of this fact I rose
quickly and reached for my hat.
<P>
"Guess we're going to have a thunder shower," I remarked.
"Hope it holds off. I don't want to get wet."
<P>
"Then you'll have to hurry," rejoined the woman as she
looked out of the door. "Looks as if it would be here in less than quarter
of an hour."
<P>
"Then I'm off. Good day."
<P>
"Good day. Come again."
<P>
I slipped out of the door, and passing behind a hedge,
made my way to the road. As I did so, Mr. Woodward and Stumpy turned from
the highway and walked directly up the gravel path that led to the house!
<P>
I was dumfounded by this movement. What did they mean
by going to the very place I had just vacated? Was it possible they had seen
me?
<P>
I earnestly hoped not; for if so, it would spoil a little
plan that had just come to me, which was to follow them, see what they were
up to, and, if possible, overhear whatever might be said.
<P>
I was soon convinced that neither of the men was aware
of my presence. They were talking earnestly and stepped up on the porch just
as ordinary visitors would have done. In a moment the woman let them in and
the door closed behind them.
<P>
My curiosity was aroused to its highest pitch, and at
the risk of being discovered by any one who might chance to be passing by
I walked cautiously back along the hedge until I reached a clump of rose
bushes that grew directly under one of the dining-room windows.
<P>
The window was open, and by a little manoeuvring I easily
managed to see and hear what was going on within.
<P>
"You came for the rent, I suppose, Mr. Woodward," the
woman was saying. "Joel was going to bring it up to-night. He would have
brought it over this morning, only he thought it was going to rain and he
had some hay he wanted to get in."
<P>
"Yes, I did come for the rent, Mrs. Decker," replied the
merchant. "It's due several days now."
<P>
"I have it here&#151; thirty dollars. Here is the receipt book."
<P>
There was the rustle of bills and the scratching of a
pen.
<P>
"Here you are, Mrs. Decker."
<P>
"Thank you, sir. Now we'll be worry free for another month."
<P>
"So you are. Nothing like being prompt."
<P>
"My husband was going to speak to you about the roof.
It leaks dreadfully."
<P>
"Pooh! That can't be. Why, it was patched only two years
ago."
<P>
"You are wrong, Mr. Woodward. It is four years, and then
but very little was done to it."
<P>
"It cost near twelve dollars," growled the merchant. "You
can't expect me to be fixing up the house all the time."
<P>
"It leaks very badly."
<P>
"Then your husband will have to attend to it. I can't
spend any more money this year."
<P>
"I don't know what we'll do. I wish you would just step
outside and look up at the shingles. Nearly all of them are ready to fall
off."
<P>
I was alarmed by Mrs. Decker's request. Suppose the trio
should come out? I would surely be discovered. But my fears were groundless,
as the next words of Mr. Woodward proved.
<P>
"I can't go out now, madam, not now. I haven't time. I
have a little business to transact with this man, and then I must return
to Darbyville."
<P>
"I'm sorry&#151;" began the woman.
<P>
"So am I; but it cannot be helped. Can I use this room
for a while?"
<P>
By the look upon Mrs. Decker's face it was plain to see
she wanted to say, "No, you can't," but she hardly dared to speak the words,
so she gave an icy assent and withdrew.
<P>
The merchant followed her to the door and saw that it
was closed tightly behind her. Then he strode across the room and faced John
Stumpy.
<P>
"Wall, sir, now we'll have an accounting," he began in
an authoritative voice.
<P>
"So we will, Woody," returned John Stumpy, in no wise
abashed by the other's manner.
<P>
The merchant winced at the use of a nickname, but after
an instant's hesitation passed it over.
<P>
"What do you mean by coming to Darbyville, sir, when I
have repeatedly written you to stay away?"
<P>
"Oh, come, Woody, don't get on your high horse," was Stumpy's
response, as he swung back in the rocker he occupied. "You know I never could
stand your high-toned ways."
<P>
"I flatter myself I am a trifle above common people,"
returned Mr. Woodward, and it was plain to see where Duncan got his arrogant
manner.
<P>
"Oh, pshaw! don't make me tired," yawned Stumpy. "Come,
let's to business."
<P>
"I am at business. Why did you come here?"
<P>
"You know well enough. Didn't I write to you?"
<P>
"Yes, and got my answer. We've squared up accounts, sir."
<P>
"Don't 'sir' me,&#151; it don't go down," cried Stumpy, angrily.
"We haven't squared up, not by a jugful,&#151; not till you hand over some more
cash."
<P>
"I've handed over enough now."
<P>
"No, you hain't. Do you think I'm going to do all your
work for nothing?"
<P>
"You were well paid."
<P>
"It's only you as thinks so; I don't."
<P>
"How much more do you want?"
<P>
"A thousand dollars."
<P>
The largeness of the demand fairly took away my breath.
As for Mr. Aaron Woodward, he was beside himself.
<P>
"A thousand dollars!" he said. "Why, you're crazy, sir."
<P>
"No, I ain't; I mean just what I say."
<P>
"You expect me to pay you a thousand dollars?"
<P>
"Of course I do. I wouldn't ask it if I didn't."
<P>
"See here, Fer&#151;"
<P>
"Sh!&#151; John Stumpy, if you please."
<P>
"That's so, I forgot. But see here, a thousand dollars!
Why, I've already paid you that."
<P>
"So you have. Now I want another thousand and then we'll
cry quits."
<P>
Mr. Aaron Woodward grew white with rage. "I never heard
of such an outrageous demand," he cried. "I'll never pay it."
<P>
"Oh, yes, you will," rejoined the other, coolly. "Aaron
Woodward never yet acted rashly."
<P>
"Suppose I refuse to pay?"
<P>
"Better not; I'm a bad man when I am aroused."
<P>
"I don't fear you. You can do nothing to me."
<P>
"Oh, yes, I can. I can tell ugly stories about Mr. Aaron
Woodward; stories concerning his doings when he was collector for Holland
&amp; Mack."
<P>
"And who would believe you?" sneered the merchant. "You,
a common tramp&#151;"
<P>
"Tramp, am I&#151;" interrupted John Stumpy, with a scowl.
"If I am, who made me so?"
<P>
"Your own self and the bottle. Do you think you can hurt
me? Nonsense!"
<P>
"I can try."
<P>
"And who will believe you, I repeat? A common tramp&#151; whom
the police are now hunting for, because of a robbery that occurred only last
night."
<P>
"&nbsp;'Tain't so!"
<P>
"It is. You broke into the Widow Canby's house and stole
over two hundred dollars."
<P>
In spite of the dirt on his face, John Stumpy grew pale.
<P>
"Who can prove it?"
<P>
"Several people. Carson Strong's son, for one."
<P>
Stumpy sprang to his feet. Then almost as suddenly sat
down.
<P>
"Didn't know he had a son," he said, as carelessly as
he could.
<P>
"Yes, you did," returned the merchant, flatly. "I think,
Fer&#151; Stumpy, I know a little more about you than you do about me."
<P>
Bitter hatred spread itself over the tramp's face.
<P>
"Oh, ho, you do, do you? Well, we'll see. 'Them laughs
best as laughs last.' If you won't pay, I'm off."
<P>
He rose to his feet and reached for his hat, Mr. Woodward
intercepted him.
<P>
"Where are you going?"
<P>
"That's my business. I want you to know I didn't come
on all the way from Chicago for nothing."
<P>
"Are you hard up?"
<P>
"Yes, I am. I want money, and I'm going to have it."
<P>
"How about the two hundred dollars you stole last night?"
<P>
Stumpy hesitated.
<P>
"Well, if you want to know the truth, I lost the money,"
he said.
<h3>CHAPTER XIV</h3>
<h4>THE PRICE OF SILENCE</h4>
<P>
For a moment I was staggered by John
Stumpy's announcement. Was it possible he was telling the truth? If so, the
chances of recovering the Widow Canby's money would assume a different shape.
To arrest him would prove a moral satisfaction, but it would not restore
the stolen dollars.
<P>
Occupying the position I did, I was more interested in
restoring the stolen money than I was in having the tramp incarcerated.
<P>
Nothing would have given me greater satisfaction than
to have met the Widow Canby at the depot with the two hundred odd dollars
in my pocket. It would have silenced the public tongue and made my breaking
jail of no consequence.
<P>
But perhaps John Stumpy was telling a falsehood. He was
not above such a thing, and would not hesitate if he thought anything could
be gained thereby. That Mr. Aaron Woodward also guessed such to be a fact
was proven by the words that followed Stumpy's statement.
<P>
"Lost the money?" he ejaculated. "Do you expect me to
believe you, sir?"
<P>
"It's true."
<P>
"Nonsense, sir. Jack Fer&#151;"
<P>
"Sh!"
<P>
"John Stumpy isn't the one to lose over two hundred dollars!"
<P>
"Just what I always said myself, partner, and&#151;"
<P>
"Don't 'partner ' me, sir!"
<P>
"Well, wasn't we all partners in the good times gone by?"
<P>
"No, sir!"
<P>
<I>"I</I> reckon we were. Howsomever, let it pass. Well,
as I was saying, I reckoned I'd never lose any money, leasewise a small pile,
but that's what I have done, and that's why I want you to come down."
<P>
And John Stumpy leaned back in the rocker in a defiant
fashion.
<P>
The merchant eyed him sharply in silence for a moment.
<P>
"Where did you lose the money?" he asked at length.
<P>
"How do I know? If I did, don't you suppose I'd go back
and pick it up?"
<P>
"I thought perhaps you were afraid of discovery."
<P>
"Humph! I'm not skeered of any such constables as they
have in Darbyville."
<P>
"But you must have some idea where you dropped it," went
on Mr. Woodward, and I was astonished to see how coolly this man, who always
pretended to be so straightforward, could inquire about stolen money.
<P>
"Not the least," responded John Stumpy. "There was two
hundred and sixty dollars in all. I took out ten and left the rest in the
pocketbook it was in. I've got the ten dollars, and that's all. And that's
why you've got to come down," he went on deliberately. "I'm off for Chicago
to-night, and I'm not going back empty handed."
<P>
"You think I ought to pay you for your own carelessness,"
returned Mr. Woodward, coolly.
<P>
"Not a bit of it. You owe me every cent I ask."
<P>
"I don't owe you a penny."
<P>
"You owe me a thousand dollars, and for the last time
let me tell you, you've got to pay or take the consequences." And John Stumpy
brought his fist down on the table with a bang.
<P>
"Hold on; don't make so much noise," cried Mr. Aaron Woodward
in alarm. "There is no use of rousing the household."
<P>
"I don't care. Either you'll come down or I'll rouse the
whole of Darbyville," cried the tramp, vehemently.
<P>
"I haven't any money."
<P>
"You can't tell me that."
<P>
"It's true. Times are getting worse every day."
<P>
"Didn't the woman who lives here just pay you?"
<P>
"Yes; thirty dollars&#151;"
<P>
"And didn't you put the bills in with a big roll in your
vest pocket?" went on Stumpy, triumphantly.
<P>
The merchant bit his lip.
<P>
"That money is to pay a bill that falls due to-morrow,"
he replied.
<P>
"Well, my 'bill' falls due to-day, and it's got to be
met. So come; no more beating about the bush. We've talked long enough. Now
to business. Do you intend to pay or not?"
<P>
The merchant hesitated. Evidently he was afraid to oppose
the other too strongly.
<P>
"Well, I don't want to let you go without anything," he
began. "I'll let you have twenty-five dollars&#151;"
<P>
John Stumpy jumped up in a passion. "That settles it.
I'm done with you. To-night I'll send a letter to Chris Holtzmann, 897 Sherman
Street, Chicago, and tell him a few things he wants to know, and&#151;"
<P>
"You dare!" almost shrieked Mr. Woodward. "Write a single
word to him and I'll&#151; I'll&#151;"
<P>
"So! ho! You're afraid of him, are you?"
<P>
"No, I'm not, but what's the use of letting him know
anything?"
<P>
"Humph! Do you suppose I'd tell him without pay? Not much!
I can easily get him to fork over fifty or a hundred dollars. And he'll make
you pay it back, ten times over."
<P>
Mr. Aaron Woodward sank back in a chair without a word.
Evidently he was completely baffled, and knew not which way to turn.
<P>
As for myself, I was very much in the dark as to what
all this was about. I was certain the past events spoken of pertained to
my father's affairs, but failed to "make connections."
<P>
One thing, however, I did do, and that was to make a note
of Mr. Chris Holtzmann's address. He was the man Stumpy had written to just
previous to the robbery, and he was perhaps one of the persons concerned
in my father's downfall.
<P>
"See here," said the merchant at last. "It's too late
for us to quarrel. What good would an exposure to Holtzmann do?"
<P>
"Never mind. If you won't come to time, I shall do as
I please," growled Stumpy.
<P>
"But a thousand dollars! I haven't got it in cash."
<P>
"You can easily get it."
<P>
"Not so easily as you think. Tell you what I will do.
I'll give you a hundred. But you must give up all evidence you have against
me."
<P>
Stumpy gave a short, contemptuous laugh. "You must think
me as green as grass," he sneered. "I'm not giving up any evidence. I'm holding
on to all I've got and gathering more."
<P>
"You have Nicholas Weaver's statement," went on Mr. Woodward,
with interest.
<P>
"So I have. Nick told the truth in it, too."
<P>
"I would like to see it"
<P>
"Of course you would. So would some other people,&#151; Carson
Strong's boy, for instance."
<P>
"Sh!&#151; not so loud."
<P>
"Well, then, don't bring the subject up."
<P>
"Have you the statement with you?"
<P>
"Maybe I haven't; maybe I have."
<P>
"Perhaps it was taken from you," went on Mr. Woodward,
curiously.
<P>
"What do you know about that?" Stumpy again jumped to
his feet. "You've been talking to that Strong boy," he cried.
<P>
"Supposing I have?"
<P>
"Well, it didn't do you no good. Say, how much does the
young cub know?"
<P>
"He knows too much for the good of either of us," responded
the merchant.
<P>
"Sorry he wasn't found in the ruins of that tool house,"
growled the tramp, savagely.
<P>
This was certainly a fine assertion for me to hear. Yet
it was no more than I would expect from John Stumpy. He was a villain through
and through.
<P>
"You meant to burn him up, did you?" asked Mr. Woodward.
<P>
"And if I had, Mr. Aaron Woodward would never have shed
a tear," laughed John Stumpy.
<P>
"Let me see the statement."
<P>
John Stumpy hesitated. "Hand over the money first, and
maybe I will."
<P>
"The hundred dollars?"
<P>
"No, a thousand."
<P>
"Do you suppose I carry so much money with me?"
<P>
"Give me what you have in that roll, and I'll take your
word for the rest."
<P>
The merchant gave something that sounded very much like
a groan.
<P>
"Well, I suppose if you insist on it, I must," he said.
"I'll give you what I have, but I won't promise you any more."
<P>
"Hand it over," was Stumpy's laconic reply. He probably
thought half a loaf better than no bread, at all.
<P>
With a heavy sigh Mr. Woodward drew the roll of bills
from his pocket and began to count them over. I was eager to catch sight
of them. I stood on tiptoe and peered into the window. It was an interesting
scene; the sour look upon the merchant's face; the look of greed in the tramp's
eye. In a moment the counting was finished.
<P>
"A hundred and seventy dollars," said Mr. Aaron Woodward.
"Here you are." And he held them out. Stumpy almost snatched them from his
hand.
<P>
"There, now that's settled," he said. "Now about&#151; What
was that?"
<P>
A noise had disturbed him. While absorbed in what the
two were doing I had given an involuntary cough.
<P>
"Somebody listening," he declared as he thrust the money
into his pocket.
<P>
"We ought to be more careful."
<P>
"Only some one coughing in the next room," returned Mr.
Woodward. "Don't get scared."
<P>
"I ain't scared, but I don't want other folks to know
my business. Reckon you don't either."
<P>
"No, indeed. It's bad enough for me to be seen in your
company," returned Mr. Aaron Woodward, with just a trace of his former lofty
manner.
<P>
"No insinuations, please," was the ready reply. "My hands
ain't any dirtier than yours."
<P>
"Well, well, let's stop quarrelling. Let me see the
statement."
<P>
"Will you promise to hand it back if I do?"
<P>
"Why not let me have it?"
<P>
"Never mind why. Will you give it back?"
<P>
"If you insist on it, you shall have it back," was Mr.
Woodward's final reply, seeing that he could gain nothing by parleying.
<P>
Stumpy drew forth the envelope. I anticipated what was
coming.
<P>
"Here it is," he said, and handed it over, as he supposed.
<P>
"The envelope is empty," said Mr. Woodward.
<P>
Stumpy looked dumfounded.
<h3>CHAPTER XV</h3>
<h4>AN ODD STATEMENT</h4>
<P>
Before Mr. Woodward made the announcement
just recorded he had walked close up to the window, probably to get into
the light, for the sky was now darkening rapidly, portending the near breaking
out of the storm I have mentioned.
<P>
In doing this the merchant's back was turned upon his
companion, and for an instant Stumpy had been unable to see what the other
was doing.
<P>
When therefore Mr. Woodward declared the envelope to be
empty every action of the tramp indicated that he did not believe the statement.
<P>
"Empty?" he cried hoarsely.
<P>
"Yes, empty," replied the merchant; "and you knew it,"
he added.
<P>
"No such thing. The statement was inside. Woody, you're
trying to play a sharp game, but it won't work."
<P>
"What do you mean, sir?"
<P>
"You're trying to rob me."
<P>
"Nonsense. I say the envelope was empty."
<P>
"And I say it wasn't. Come, hand over my property."
<P>
"I tell you, Fer&#151; Stumpy, I haven't it."
<P>
"I don't care what you say. You can't play any such game
off on me," rejoined John Stumpy, with increasing anger.
<P>
"I'm only speaking the truth."
<P>
"You ain't. Hand it over, or I'll&#151;"
<P>
John Stumpy caught the merchant by the coat collar.
<P>
"What would you do?" cried Mr. Woodward in alarm, and
it was plain to see he was a coward at heart.
<P>
"I'll choke the life out of you; that's what I'll do.
Hand over the statement."
<P>
"I haven't it, upon my honor."
<P>
"Your honor? Bah! What does that amount to?"
<P>
John Stumpy suddenly shifted his hand from its grasp on
the collar to the merchant's throat. For a moment I thought Mr. Woodward
was in danger of being choked to death.
<P>
"Stop! Stop! Se&#151; search me if you&#151; you want to," he gasped.
<P>
But John Stumpy's passion seemed to have got the better
of his reason. He did not relax his hold in the least.
<P>
A short struggle ensued. The two backed up against the
table, and presently a chair was upset. Of course all this made considerable
noise. Yet neither of the men heeded it.
<P>
Presently the door from the other room swung open, and
the two had hardly time to separate before a tall, lank farmer entered.
<P>
"Hello, what's up?" he asked in a loud, drawling tone.
<P>
For an instant neither spoke, evidently not knowing what
to say.
<P>
"We were&#151; were&#151; ahem&#151; trying to&#151; to catch a rat," replied
Mr. Woodward, with an effort.
<P>
"A rat?"
<P>
"Exactly, sir. Had a terrible time with him, Mr. Decker."
<P>
The farmer looked surprised. "So I supposed by the row
that was going on," he said. "Curious. I knew there were rats down to the
barn, but I didn't suppose they came up to the house. What became of him?"
<P>
"Slipped out of the door just now," put in John Stumpy.
"There he goes!" he added, pointing out into the hall.
<P>
Mr. Decker made a spring out of the room.
<P>
"I must ketch him, by gopher!" he cried. "There's enough
eat up here now without having the vermin taking a hand in."
<P>
Mr. Woodward closed the door after the man.
<P>
"Now see to what your actions have brought us," he exclaimed.
"If it hadn't been for my quick wit we'd been in a pretty mess."
<P>
"Not my fault," growled John Stumpy. "Why don't you give
up the statement?"
<P>
I could not help but feel amused at his persistency. His
demands upon the merchant were about on a footing with those Mr. Woodward
had made upon me.
<P>
"If you'll only listen to reason," began the merchant,
"I will prove&#151;"
<P>
The rest of his remark was drowned out in a clap of thunder.
Somewhat startled, I looked up at the sky.
<P>
The black clouds in the south had rolled up rapidly, until
now the entire horizon was covered. The first burst of thunder was succeeded
directly by several others, and then large drops of rain began to fall.
<P>
The wind blew the drops directly into the window. I crouched
down out of sight, and the next moment Mr. Woodward said:&#151;
<P>
"It's raining in the window. We'd better close it up."
<P>
Of course directly the window was closed I could hear
no longer. I remained in my position for half a minute or more, and then
as the rain began to pour down rapidly I made a break for better shelter.
<P>
I sought the barn. It was a low, rambling structure, with
great wide doors. No one seemed to be around, and I rushed in without ceremony.
I was pretty fairly soaked, but as it was warm I did not mind the ducking.
I shook out my hat and coat and then sat down to think matters over.
<P>
What I had heard had not given me much satisfaction. To
be sure, it had proved beyond a doubt that Mr. Aaron Woodward was a thorough
scoundrel, but of this I had been already satisfied in my own mind.
<P>
What was I to do? I had asked myself that question several times, and now
I asked it again.
<P>
If only I could get John Stumpy arrested, perhaps it would
be possible to force him to make a confession. But how was this to be done?
<P>
While I sat on the edge of a feed box, a form darkened
the doorway, and Farmer Decker appeared.
<P>
"Hello!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
<P>
"I took the liberty to come in out of the rain," I replied.
"Have you any objections to my remaining until the shower is over?"
<P>
"No, guess not. It's a mighty heavy one. Where're you
from? Newville?"
<P>
"No, sir, Darbyville."
<P>
"Yes? Had quite a robbery down there, I understand."
<P>
"Is that so?"
<P>
"Yes, a chap named Strong robbed an old woman of nearly
five hundred dollars. Do you know him or the woman?"
<P>
"I know the woman quite well," was my reply, and I hoped
he would not question me further.
<P>
"They've got him in jail, I believe. The fellow and his
sister tried to make out that a tramp had taken the money, but I understand
no one would listen to the story."
<P>
"No?"
<P>
"No. It seems this Strong boy's father is in jail now
for stealing, so it ain't strange the boy's a thief."
<P>
"But maybe he isn't guilty," I put in, by way of a mild
protest.
<P>
"Maybe. Of course it's rather tough on him if he isn't.
But you can't tell nowadays; boys is so all-fired high toned, and want to
play big fiddle."
<P>
"Some boys are, but not all of them."
<P>
"Some of them. Now there's our landlord, who is in the
house now, he's got a son as extravagant as can be, and if it wasn't for
Mr. Woodward keeping him in funds I don't know what that boy might not do.
He&#151; whoa, there, Billy, whoa!"
<P>
The last remark was addressed to a horse standing in one
of the stalls. A clap of thunder had set the animal to prancing.
<P>
"Your horse feels rather uneasy," I remarked, glad of
a chance to change the subject.
<P>
"Allers acts that way when there's a storm going on. Too
bad, too, for I want to hitch him up and take Mr. Woodward and another man
that's with him over to Darbyville."
<P>
As Mr. Decker spoke he led the horse from the stall and
backed him up between the shafts of the carriage that stood near the rear
of the barn.
<P>
While he was hitching up I set myself to thinking. While
I was perfectly willing that Mr. Woodward should return to Darbyville, I
did not wish to allow John Stumpy out of my sight. Once away, and I might
not be able to lay hands on him.
<P>
Had I been sure that Kate had succeeded in finding the
lost statement, I would not have cared, but the chances in her favor were
slim, and I did not wish to run any risks.
<P>
"Are you going to drive around to the house for them?"
I asked as the farmer finished the job.
<P>
"Guess I'll have to. It will be a beastly drive. Sorry
I can't offer you a seat&#151; it would be better than walking."
<P>
"I think I'll wait till it clears off," I returned. "I'm
not on business, and&#151;"
<P>
"Say, Decker, how long is it going to take you to hitch
up?" interrupted a voice from the doorway, and the next instant Mr. Woodward
strode into the barn, followed by John Stumpy.
<P>
I did not have time to conceal myself. I tried to step
behind a partition, but before I could do so the merchant's eye was on me.
<P>
"Roger Strong!" he exclaimed.
<P>
"Yes, sir," I replied, as boldly as I could.
<P>
"How did you get here?" he demanded.
<P>
"Walked, just as you did."
<P>
"Thought you were in jail."
<P>
"So do most people."
<P>
"Who is this chap?" asked the farmer, staring at me with
open eyes.
<P>
"It's the boy who was arrested for that robbery last night,"
explained the merchant.
<P>
"Shoo&#151; you don't say? And I was talking to him about that
very thing. You rascal, you!"
<P>
"How did you get out?" put in John Stumpy.
<P>
"None of your business," I replied briskly. "If you'd
had your way I'd been burnt up in the tool house last night."
<P>
"No such thing," was the tramp's reply. "Never saw you
before."
<P>
"You're the fellow who stole the Widow Canby's money."
<P>
"You must be crazy, young fellow. I don't know anything
about the Widow Canby or her money."
<P>
"I can prove it. My sister can prove it, too."
<P>
"Then your sister must be as crazy as yourself."
<P>
"Stop there! You're the thief and you know it."
<P>
"I know nothing of the kind."
<P>
"Your story is nonsensical, Strong," broke in Mr. Woodward.
"Gentlemen like Mr. Stumpy here do not break into people's houses and commit
robberies."
<P>
"Gentlemen! He's nothing but a tramp, and you know it."
<P>
"Tramp? How dare you?" cried Stumpy, in suddenly assumed
dignity, put on for the farmer's benefit. "I am a ranchero from Texas and
an honest man. I am visiting Mr. Woodward, and know nothing more of the robbery
excepting having heard that it occurred&#151; ahem!" And John Stumpy drew himself
up.
<P>
Under other circumstances I would have laughed at his
effrontery. But the situation was too serious to indulge in any humor.
<P>
"Being placed under arrest has turned your head, Strong,"
said the merchant. "You seem to be quite out of your mind."
<P>
"When was the robbery committed?" put in John Stumpy,
suddenly.
<P>
"You know well enough," I cried.
<P>
"I heard it was about two o'clock in the morning," vouchsafed
Farmer Decker.
<P>
"Then I can easily prove an alibi," said the tramp,
triumphantly. "I can prove I was with my esteemed friend Mr. Woodward at
that hour. Isn't it so, Aaron?"
<P>
The merchant hesitated. I fairly held my breath to catch
his answer. Would he commit deliberate perjury?
<P>
"Quite true," he replied slowly. "Mr. Stumpy was with
me last night. We sat up in the library, smoking, and playing cards until
after midnight, and then I showed him to bed. He could not possibly have
committed the crime of which Strong speaks."
<P>
"Then the boy must be the guilty one hisself," said the
farmer. "And so young, too. Who would a-thought it! What shall we do with
him, Mr. Woodward?"
<P>
"You had better help me take him back to Darbyville jail,"
responded the merchant.
<h3>CHAPTER XVI</h3>
<h4>MY UNCLE ENOS</h4>
<P>
John Stumpy gave a smile of triumph. As for myself, I stood aghast. Mr. Aaron Woodward
had committed deliberate perjury, or at least, something that amounted to
the same thing. He had positively declared that John Stumpy was at his house
at the time of the robbery of Widow Canby's house, and could not, therefore,
be the guilty party.
<P>
It was easy to guess that in this statement it was his
intention to screen his partner in iniquity. To be sure, he had been forced
to take the position by Stumpy himself, but once having taken it, I was morally
certain he would not back down.
<P>
His action would make it harder than ever for me to clear
myself and bring the tramp to justice. His word in a court of law would carry
more weight than mine or my sister's, and consequently our case would fall
to the ground.
<P>
I was glad that Dick Blair could testify concerning my
whereabouts and the scene in the dining room directly after the robbery.
The merchant knew nothing of Blair's presence on the occasion&#151; at least I
imagined so from his conversation&#151; and might, by saying too much, "put his
foot in it."
<P>
But now my mind was filled with only one thought. The
three men intended to take me to the Darbyville jail. I was to be ignominiously
dragged back to the prison from which I had escaped.
<P>
Once again in Ezekiel Booth's custody I was certain he
would keep so strict a guard over me that further breaking away would be
out of the question. Perhaps Judge Penfold would consider me so dangerous
a prisoner as to send me to the county jail for safe keeping, in which case
it would be harder than ever for me to clear myself or see Kate.
<P>
For an instant I meditated taking to my legs and running
my chances, but this idea was knocked in the head by Farmer Decker grasping
me by the collar.
<P>
"Maybe he might take a notion and run away," he explained.
"He did it once, you say."
<P>
"A good idea to hold him," said Mr. Woodward. "Have you
finished hitching up?"
<P>
"Yes, sir."
<P>
"Have you room for him?"
<P>
"I might put in another seat."
<P>
"Do so. And hurry; the rain has slackened up a bit, and
we may reach Darbyville before it starts again."
<P>
The extra seat was soon placed in the carriage. Then the
farmer procured a couple of rubber blankets.
<P>
"All ready now," he said. "How shall we sit?"
<P>
"You and Mr. Stumpy sit in front. I and the boy will occupy
the back seat. Come, Strong, get in."
<P>
For an instant I thought of refusing. The merchant had
no right to order me. But then I reflected that a refusal would do no good,
and might do harm, so without a word I entered the carriage.
<P>
The others were not slow to follow. Then Farmer Decker
chirruped to Billy, and we rolled out of the farm yard and down the road.
<P>
But little was said on the way. I was busy with my own
thoughts, and so were Mr. Woodward and Stumpy. The farmer asked several
questions, but the merchant said he would learn all he wished to know at
the judge's office, and this quieted him.
<P>
About five o'clock in the afternoon we rolled into Darbyville.
While crossing the Pass River the sun had burst through the clouds, and now
all was as bright and fresh as ever.
<P>
Judge Penfold's office was situated in the centre of the
principal business block. When we arrived there we found a number of men
standing about the door, no doubt discussing my escape, for they uttered
many exclamations of surprise on seeing me.
<P>
Chief among them was Parsons, who looked pale and worried.
<P>
"Roger Strong!" he exclaimed. "Where have you been?"
<P>
"Took a walk for my health," I replied as lightly as I
could, though my heart was heavy.
<P>
"Well, I guess we'll make sure it shan't happen again,"
he returned. "Hi, there, Booth! Here's your prisoner come back!"
<P>
In a moment the carpenter appeared upon the scene.
<P>
"You rascal, you!" he cried in angry tones. "A fine peck
of trouble you've got yourself into!"
<P>
"What's all this about?" asked a heavy voice from the
stairs, and Judge Penfold stood before me.
<P>
"I have brought your prisoner back, judge," replied Mr.
Woodward.
<P>
"So I see. Well, Strong, what have you to say for yourself?
Do you know breaking jail is a serious offence?"
<P>
"I don't know anything about it. I know I was locked up
for nothing at all, and I escaped at the first chance offered."
<P>
"There was no chance offered at all, judge," broke in
Booth, fearful of having a reflection cast upon his character. "He just went
and ripped the hull floor up, that's what he did."
<P>
"Silence, Booth! Come upstairs and we will hear the
particulars."
<P>
In a moment we were in Judge Penfold's office. I was told
to take a seat on a bench, with Booth on one side of me and Parsons on the
other.
<P>
Then Mr. Woodward introduced John Stumpy as a friend from
San Antonio, Texas, and the two told their story, corroborated at its end
by Farmer Decker, who trembled from head to foot at the idea of addressing
as high a dignitary as Judge Penfold.
<P>
"What have you to say to this, Strong?" I was asked.
<P>
In a plain, straightforward way I told my story from beginning
to end, told it in a manner that did not fail to impress nearly every one
in the court-room but the judge and my accusers.
<P>
Of course Mr. Woodward and John Stumpy stoutly denied
all I said, and their denial carried the day.
<P>
"Until we can have a real trial I will send you back to
jail," said Judge Penfold.
<P>
"Why don't you send John Stumpy to jail, too?" I asked.
"He is as much accused as I."
<P>
"We have only your word for that."
<P>
"Then let me send for my sister Kate and Dick Blair."
<P>
Judge Penfold rubbed his chin reflectively.
<P>
"I think I'll have to put you under bonds," he said to
John Stumpy.
<P>
"Why so? The boy's word doesn't amount to anything," put
in Mr. Woodward.
<P>
"Only a matter of form, Mr. Woodward. I will make it a
thousand dollars. Will you go his bondsman?"
<P>
"Of course he will," said John Stumpy, hastily. "Won't
you?"
<P>
The merchant winced. "I&#151; I guess so," he stammered. "But
it's a strange proceeding."
<P>
In a few moments, by the aid of two other men, the bond
was made out.
<P>
"I will make your bail a thousand dollars also," said
Judge Penfold, turning to me. "I suppose it's quite useless though," he added
sarcastically.
<P>
"Not quite so useless as you might think," exclaimed a
hearty voice from the rear of the court-room.
<P>
I thought I recognized the tones, and turned hastily.
There beside my sister Kate stood my uncle, Enos Moss, of whom I have already
spoken.
<P>
He was a grizzly bearded sea-captain of seventy, with
manner and speech suggestive of the brine.
<P>
Breaking from Parsons and Booth, I ran to meet him. He
shook both my hands and then clapped me on the shoulder.
<P>
"Cast up on a lee shore, are you, Roger?" he exclaimed.
"And the wind a-blowing a hurricane."
<P>
"Yes, I am," I replied, "and I'm mighty glad you've come,
Uncle Enos."
<P>
"Just dropped anchor in time," he went on. "Judge Penfold,
do you remember me?"
<P>
"You are Carson Strong's brother-in-law, I believe?" replied
the judge.
<P>
"You've hit it. Captain Enos Moss, part owner and sailing
master of the <I>Hattie Baker, </I> as trim a craft as ever rounded the Horn.
Been away for three years, and now on shore to stay."
<P>
"You're not going on any more voyages?" I queried.
<P>
"No, my hearty. I've made enough to keep me, and I'm getting
too old to walk the quarter-deck. Besides, I've heard of your father's troubles
from Kate, and I reckon they need sounding."
<P>
"Indeed they do."
<P>
"Well, now about your difficulty. A thousand-dollar bond,
eh. It's pretty stiff, but I guess I can stand it."
<P>
"Thank you, sir," was all I could say.
<P>
"Don't say a word. Didn't your father put in a good word
for me when I was a-courting your aunt that's dead and gone&#151; God bless her!
Indeed, he did! And I'll stand by you, Roger, no matter how hard the gale
blows."
<P>
"Then <I>you</I> don't think I'm guilty?"
<P>
"What! a lad with your bearing a thief? Not much. The
people in this village must be asleep&#151; not to know better'n that?"
<P>
"Ahem!" coughed Judge Penfold, sternly. He considered
my uncle's remarks decidedly impertinent. "Are you able to go his bail?"
he asked.
<P>
"Reckon I am. I've just deposited ten thousand dollars
in the bank here, and I've got twenty and more in New York. How will you
have it&#151; in cash?"
<P>
"A conditional check, certified, will do," replied Judge
Penfold, shortly.
<P>
What he meant had to be explained, and then we all went
to the banker's office. My uncle's account was found to be as he had stated,
and about ten minutes later my bond was signed and I was at liberty to go
where I pleased until called upon to appear.
<P>
Mr. Aaron Woodward and John Stumpy apparently did not
relish the turn affairs had taken. But I paid no attention to them, and the
business over, I hurried off with my sister and my newly arrived uncle.
<P>
"Did you find the statement?" I asked of Kate, as soon
as we were out of hearing of the crowd.
<P>
"No, Roger, I looked and looked, but it wasn't anywhere,
either at the tool house or on the way to Judge Penfold's."
<P>
"Have you heard from Mrs. Canby yet?"
<P>
"Yes, she is coming home."
<P>
"Does she blame me for what has happened?"
<P>
"She doesn't say."
<P>
"Never mind, Roger. We'll stick up for you," put in Uncle
Enos, kindly.
<P>
I was considerably disturbed. What if Mrs. Canby should
consider me at fault?
<P>
As we drew near to the cottage, I saw a lady standing
by the gate, watching our approach. It was the Widow Canby.
<h3>CHAPTER XVII</h3>
<h4>A SUDDEN RESOLVE</h4>
<P>
My heart beat rapidly as I walked
up to the gate. How would the good lady who had done so much for Kate and
myself receive me?
<P>
An unkind word or an unfavorable insinuation from her
would have hurt me worse than a thousand from any one else. She had been
so generous that to have her turn would have made me feel as if I had lost
my last friend on earth.
<P>
But as she had taken me in before when others had cast
me out, so she now proved the friend in need.
<P>
"So they've thought better of it and set you free, Roger?"
she said as I hurried up.
<P>
"Yes, Mrs. Canby," I returned. "I hope&#151; I hope&#151;" I began,
and then came to a full stop.
<P>
"What?" and she caught my hand.
<P>
"I hope you don't think I had anything to do with the
robbery," I stammered.
<P>
"No, Roger, I don't. I think you're an honest boy, and
I've got to have more proof against you than I've heard yet before I'll believe
otherwise."
<P>
"Thank you, ma'am, oh, thank you!" I blurted out, and
the tears started to my eyes and rolled down my cheeks.
<P>
The events of which I am writing occurred several years
ago, but I am not ashamed of those tears. They were the outcome of long-pent-up
feelings, and I could not hold them back. My sister cried, too, and the Widow
Canby and Uncle Enos looked very much as if they wished to join in.
<P>
"I knew you wouldn't think Roger did it," cried Kate.
"I said all along you wouldn't, though everybody said you would."
<P>
"Folks don't appear to know me very well," returned Widow
Canby, with a bit of grim humor in her tone. "I don't always think as others
do. Come into the house and give me full particulars. Who is this man? Why,
really! Captain Moss, I believe?"
<P>
"Yes, ma'am, Captain Moss&#151; Roger's uncle, at your service,"
replied he, taking off his cap and bowing low. "I thought you'd remember
me. Your husband as was once sailed to Boston with me."
<P>
"Oh, yes, I remember you. Will you come in?"
<P>
"Thank you, reckon I will. I have no home now, and hotels
is scarce in Darbyville. I only arrived this noon, and I've been with Kate
ever since. I must hunt up a boarding-house to stay at. Do you know of any
close at hand?"
<P>
"Perhaps I do. Let us talk of that later on. I want to
hear Roger's story first."
<P>
"Just as you say, ma'am. Only I must get a place to stop
at to-night."
<P>
"You shall be provided for, Captain Moss. I have a spare
room."
<P>
"You are very kind to an old sea-dog like myself, Mrs.
Canby," said Uncle Enos.
<P>
The widow led the way into the dining room. The lamp was
already lighted, and while my sister Kate busied herself with preparing supper,
Mrs. Canby and my uncle sat down to listen to my story.
<P>
For the first time I told it with all the details that
concerned myself,&#151; how I had been waylaid by the Models, how Dick Blair had
released me, what Stumpy had done at the tool house, and all, not forgetting
about the statement Kate and I wished so much to find.
<P>
The Widow Canby and my uncle listened with close attention
until I had finished.
<P>
"It's a strange story, Roger," said the widow, at its
conclusion. "One hard to believe. But I know you tell the truth."
<P>
"What a rascal this Woodward must be!" broke in my uncle
"He's a far greater villain in his way than this John Stumpy. I am strongly
inclined to figure that you're right, and he is the one that ran your father
up on a lee shore."
<P>
"I don't think father did a single thing that was wrong&#151; that
is, knowingly," I returned. "If he did do wrong, I'm sure Mr. Woodward made
it appear as if it was all right."
<P>
"No doubt, no doubt. If you could only get to the bottom
of this Weaver's statement."
<P>
"And when is this trial to come off?" put in Mrs. Canby.
"Really I don't see what good it will do me if this man has lost the money."
<P>
"I'd like to find that, too," I returned.
<P>
Presently Kate announced that supper was ready, and we
all sat down. The widow said that she had found her sister much better, and
on receiving Kate's letter had started for her home at once. The loss of
the money did not disturb her as much as I had anticipated, and as every
one was hungry, the meal passed off tolerably well.
<P>
When we had nearly finished there was a knock on the door,
and Kate admitted Mr. Woodward's errand boy. He had a note for me. It contained
but a single sentence:&#151;
<P>
"Please call at my house this evening about nine o'clock."
<P>
I read the note over with interest, and then informed
the others of what it contained.
<P>
"Shall you go?" asked Kate, anxiously.
<P>
"I suppose I might."
<P>
"Maybe it's a plot," suggested the widow.
<P>
"Might waylay you," added Uncle Enos. "A man like him
is liable to do 'most anything."
<P>
"I don't think he would dare do me any bodily injury,"
I replied. "He would know I had told some one where I was going, and that
my absence would be noticed."
<P>
"If you go, take me in tow," said my uncle. "I needn't
go in with you, but I can hang around outside, and if anything goes wrong,
all you've got to do is to holler like all creation, and I'll come to the
rescue."
<P>
"Oh, if Roger runs any risk, I'd rather he wouldn't go,"
exclaimed Kate, in alarm.
<P>
"I don't think the risk is very great," I returned. "Besides,
I may find the missing statement. That is worth trying for."
<P>
"I shall be in dread until you return," she replied, with
a grave shake of her head.
<P>
"When will you start?" asked Uncle Enos.
<P>
"About half past eight. It won't take over half an hour
to reach his house."
<P>
We continued to discuss Mr. Woodward for some time, and
also the action of the Models and what I should do on their score. My Uncle
Enos was for prosecuting them, but the Widow Canby said that the future would
bring its own punishment, and on this we rested.
<P>
"And now about my board," began Uncle Enos, during a dull
in the conversation. "I must find a boarding-house for after to-night."
<P>
"Wouldn't you like to stay with the children?" asked Mrs.
Canby.
<P>
"Yes, ma'am; indeed I would. To tell the truth, it's my
intention sooner or later to offer them a home with me."
<P>
"I should hate to have them leave me," returned the widow,
quickly.
<P>
"I suppose so."
<P>
"How would you like to board with me? As I have said,
there is lots of room, and you have just eaten a sample meal. We do not live
in style&#151; but&#151;"
<P>
"Plenty good enough style," interrupted Captain Enos,
"and better grub then we had on the <I>Hattie Baker,</I> I'll be bound. I'd
like it first rate here if the terms wasn't too high."
<P>
"What do you think fair?"
<P>
"I'm sure I don't know, ma'am. I haven't paid a week's
board in three years."
<P>
"Would five dollars a week be too much?"
<P>
"No, ma'am. Are you sure it's enough? I don't want to
crowd your hospitality."
<P>
"I'd be satisfied with five dollars. Of course boarders
are out of my line, but there are exceptions to all cases. Besides, I'll
feel safer with another man about the house. No reflection on you, Roger,
but you won't always be here together."
<P>
"No, ma'am," replied my uncle. "I must visit my brother-in-law
at the prison&#151; that will take several days."
<P>
"Will you take me with you?" asked Kate, eagerly.
<P>
"Certainly, and you, too, Roger, if you want to go."
<P>
"I would like to very much," was my reply. "But I want
to ask even a bigger favor than that, Uncle Enos."
<P>
"Yes?"
<P>
"Yes, sir. You may think it a good deal, but you've been
so kind, and I haven't any one else to go to."
<P>
"Well, what is it, my boy? I'll do it if I can."
<P>
"Lend me about fifty dollars."
<P>
My Uncle Enos raised his eyebrows in surprise.
<P>
"Fifty dollars?" he repeated.
<P>
"Yes, sir. That is, if you can spare it. I'll promise
to pay it back some day."
<P>
"And what do you intend to do with it?"
<P>
"I want to go to Chicago, sir."
<P>
"To Chicago?"
<P>
All three of my listeners repeated the words in chorus;
then Captain Enos continued:&#151;
<P>
"And what are you going to do there?"
<P>
"I want to hunt up this Holtzmann, and find out what he
knows about my father's affairs. I'm satisfied that he is as deep in it as
Mr. Woodward or John Stumpy, and if I can only by some means get him to tell
what he knows, I may accomplish a good deal."
<P>
My Uncle Enos put his hand upon my shoulder; "Well, Roger,
you're a brave boy, and I'll trust you. You shall have fifty dollars, and
a hundred, if you want it, to do as you think best. Only don't get into trouble."
<P>
"Thank you Uncle Enos, thank you!" I cried heartily. "Some
day I'll pay you back."
<P>
"I don't want it back, my lad. If you can catch any proofs
that will help clear your father, I shall be more than satisfied."
<P>
"And when shall you go?" asked Kate.
<P>
"I don't know. It will depend on my interview with Mr.
Woodward and also on what John Stumpy does. Not inside of several days, at
least. Besides, we want to see father first, you know."
<P>
"Of course."
<P>
"We can go to Trenton tomorrow," said Uncle Enos. At Trenton
was located the State prison. After consulting a time table printed in the
Darbyville Record, we found we could catch a train for that city at 8.25
from Newville the next morning, and this we decided to take.
<P>
Having settled this matter, we returned again to the
discussion of the incidents surrounding the robbery, and what would probably
be the next movements of those fighting against me. Uncle Enos grew greatly
interested, and said he knew a lawyer in New York who might secure some good
private detective who could take the case in hand.
<P>
Finally it came half past eight, and putting on my hat,
I started for Mr. Woodward's residence.
<h3>CHAPTER XVIII</h3>
<h4>IN MR. WOODWARD'S LIBRARY</h4>
<P>
Though outwardly calm, I was considerably
agitated as I walked to Darbyville. Why the merchant had sent for me I could
not surmise. Of course it was on account of the robbery, but so far as I
knew both of us had taken a separate stand, and neither would turn back.
I thought it barely possible that he wished to intimidate me into receding
from my position. He was as much of a bully in his way as Duncan, and would
not hesitate to use every means in his power to bring me to terms.
<P>
Arriving at Mr. Woodward's house, I ascended the steps
and rang the bell.
<P>
"Is Mr. Woodward in?" I asked of the girl who answered
the summons.
<P>
"I'll see, sir," she replied. "Who shall I say it is?"
<P>
"Roger Strong."
<P>
The girl left me standing in the hall. While waiting for
her return I could not help but remember the old lines:&#151;
<BLOCKQUOTE>
  <P ALIGN=LEFT class=left>
  "&nbsp;'Will you walk into my parlor?'<BR>
  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Said the spider to the fly."
</BLOCKQUOTE>
<P>
But if I was walking into the spider's parlor, it would
be my own fault if I got hurt, for I was entering with my eyes open. I determined
to be on my guard, and take nothing for granted.
<P>
"Mr. Woodward will be pleased to see you in his library,"
said the girl upon her return, and then, having indicated the door, she vanished
down the back hall.
<P>
As I put my hand upon the door-knob, I heard steps upon
the stairs, and looking up saw Duncan Woodward descending.
<P>
His face was still swollen from the punishment I had inflicted
upon him. Nevertheless, he was faultlessly dressed in full evening costume,
and I rightly conjectured he was going to spend the night in some fashionable
dissipation such as dancing or card-playing.
<P>
"Hello! how did you get in here?" he exclaimed.
<P>
"Was let in," was my mild reply, not caring to pick a
quarrel with him.
<P>
"Was, eh? And what for, I'd like to know?"
<P>
"That's your father's business, Duncan."
<P>
"Don't Duncan me any more, Roger Strong. What's my father's
business?"
<P>
"What I came for. He sent for me."
<P>
"Oh, he did. Reckon he's going to square accounts with
you."
<P>
"I don't know what accounts he's going to square," I went
on in curiosity.
<P>
"Didn't you as much as try to intimate he was lying&#151; down
in Judge Penfold's court this afternoon?"
<P>
"I only told what I knew to be the truth," I replied calmly.
<P>
"The truth. Humph! I believe you took the widow's money
yourself."
<P>
"Take care what you're saying," I replied angrily. "I
don't propose to stand any such talk from you."
<P>
Duncan grew speechless. "Why, you&#151; you&#151;" he began.
<P>
"Hold up now before you say something that you'll be sorry
for. This is your house, but you have no right to insult me in it."
<P>
"Quite right, Strong, quite right." The library door had
opened, and Mr. Woodward stood upon the threshold, gazing sharply at his
son. "Strong is here upon my invitation, Duncan; you ought to treat him with
more politeness," he added.
<P>
If Duncan was amazed at this speech, so was I. The merchant
taking my part? What did it mean?
<P>
"Why, I&#151; I&#151;" began Duncan, but he could really get no
further.
<P>
"No explanation is necessary," interrupted his father,
coolly.
<P>
"Strong, please step in, will you?"
<P>
"Yes, sir," and I suited the action to the word.
<P>
As I did so Duncan passed on to the front door.
<P>
"I'll get even with you yet, you cad!" he muttered under
his breath; but I paid no attention to his words. I had "bigger fish to fry."
<P>
Once inside of Mr. Woodward's library, the merchant closed
the door behind me and then invited me to take a seat beside his desk, at
the same time throwing himself back in his easy chair.
<P>
"I suppose you thought it rather singular that I should
send for you," he said by way of an opening.
<P>
"Yes, sir, I did," was all I could reply.
<P>
"I thought as much. It was only an impulse of mine, sir,
only an impulse. I wished to see if we cannot arrange this&#151; this little
difficulty without publicity. I would rather lose a good deal, yes, sir,
a good deal, than have my name dragged into court."
<P>
"All I ask is for justice," I replied calmly. "I am under
arrest for a crime of which I am innocent. On the other hand, you are trying
to shield a man I know is guilty."
<P>
I expected a storm of indignation from Mr. Woodward because
of the last remark. Yet he showed no sign of resentment.
<P>
"Don't you think you might be mistaken in your identification
of Mr. Stumpy?" he replied, and I noticed that again he nearly stumbled in
pronouncing the tramp's name.
<P>
"No, sir," I replied promptly.
<P>
"Remember that you saw him only by lantern light, and
then but for a few minutes."
<P>
"I saw him by daylight as well."
<P>
"When?"
<P>
"In the morning. He came as a beggar."
<P>
"A beggar? Impossible!" The merchant held, up his hands
in assumed amazement. "Why, Strong, the idea of Mr. Stumpy begging is
ridiculous."
<P>
"Just the same it is true, Mr. Woodward. And what is more,
he is the thief, and you know it."
<P>
"That's a strong assertion to make, sir, a very strong
assertion."
<P>
"Nevertheless, I believe I can prove my words."
<P>
Mr. Woodward turned slightly pale.
<P>
"You can prove no such thing," he cried.
<P>
"Yes, I can. Didn't Stumpy admit he had taken the money?"
<P>
"Never, sir."
<P>
"He did."
<P>
"When?"
<P>
"This afternoon while you were at Decker's place."
<P>
Had I slapped the merchant in the face he would not have
been more surprised. He sprang to his feet and glared at me.
<P>
"You&#151; you&#151; Who says he made such an admission?"
<P>
"I say so."
<P>
"Ah! I see, you were spying on us. You rascal!"
<P>
"It strikes me that you are the rascal," I returned. "You
try deliberately to shield a thief."
<P>
"What!"
<P>
"Yes, it's true."
<P>
"Can you prove it?"
<P>
Mr. Woodward asked the question sneeringly, but there
was much of curiosity in his tones.
<P>
"Perhaps I can."
<P>
The merchant pulled his mustache nervously.
<P>
"Strong, you are greatly mistaken. But don't let us quarrel
any more."
<P>
"I don't want to quarrel."
<P>
"I feel badly over the whole affair, and Mr. Stumpy is
fairly sick. I suppose you think you are right, but you are mistaken. Now
I have a proposition to make to you." Mr. Woodward leaned forward in his
chair. "Suppose you admit that you are mistaken&#151; that Mr. Stumpy is not the
man? Do this, and I will not prosecute you for having taken my papers."
<P>
I was surprised and indignant; surprised that Mr. Woodward
should still insist upon my having taken his papers, and indignant because
of his outrageous offer.
<P>
"Mr. Woodward," I began firmly, "you can prosecute me
or not; Stumpy is the guilty man, and I shall always stick to it."
<P>
"Then you will go to jail, too."
<P>
"For the last time let me say I have not seen your papers."
<P>
"It is false. You took them from this room last night.
At the very time you pretend you were after the robber at Mrs. Canby's house
you were here ransacking my desk."
<P>
"Mr. Woodward&#151;"
<P>
"There is no use in denying it. I have abundant proofs.
The girl who cleaned up here this morning found a handkerchief with your
name on it lying on the floor. If you weren't here, how did that come here?"
<P>
"My handkerchief?"
<P>
"Yes, sir, your handkerchief; and Mary O'Brien can identify
it and tell where she found it."
<P>
"Some one else must have had it," I stammered, and then
suddenly: "I know who the party is&#151; Duncan."
<P>
"Duncan!"
<P>
"Yes, sir. He took that handkerchief away from me when
the Models waylaid me!"
<P>
"My son! Really, Strong, you are mad! But I will take
you in hand, sir; yes, indeed, I will."
<P>
"No, you won't, Aaron Woodward!" I cried, for once letting
my temper get the better of me. "You are awfully cunning, but I am not afraid
of you. I am willing to have all these matters sifted to the bottom, and
the sooner the better. What papers have you missed? Were they the ones that
Holtzmann of Chicago is after? How is it that my father is in prison while
you live in style on money you never earned? Who is the relative that left
it to you? Did you ever make a clear statement concerning the transactions
that took away my father's honest name?"
<P>
"Stop! Stop!"
<P>
"I will not stop! You want an investigation; so do I.
Luckily my uncle, Captain Enos Moss, has just returned from a voyage. He
has quite some money, and I know he will use it to bring the guilty parties
to justice. And then&#151;"
<P>
I did not finish. Mr. Woodward had strode over to the
door and locked it, putting the key in his pocket.
<P>
"You know too much, Strong," he muttered between his set
teeth, as he caught me by the collar; "too much entirely. We must come to
a settlement before you leave this room."
<h3>CHAPTER XIX</h3>
<h4>A CLEVER RUSE</h4>
<P>
I must confess I was frightened when
Mr. Woodward locked the door of his library and caught me by the collar.
Was it possible that he contemplated doing me physical harm? It looked that
way.
<P>
I was not accustomed to such rough treatment, and I resented
it instantly. I was not very large for my age, but I was strong, and ducking
my head I wrenched myself free from his grasp and sprang to the other side
of the small table that stood in the centre of the room.
<P>
"What do you mean by treating me in this manner!" I cried.
"Unlock that door at once!"
<P>
"Not much, sir," replied Mr. Woodward, vehemently. "You've
made some remarkable statements, young man, and I demand a clear explanation
before you leave."
<P>
"Well, you demand too much, Aaron Woodward," I replied
firmly. "Unlock that door."
<P>
"Not just yet. I want to know what you know of Holtzmann
of Chicago?"
<P>
"You won't learn by treating me in this manner," was my
determined reply. "Unlock that door, or, take my word for it, I'll arouse
the whole neighborhood."
<P>
"You'll do nothing of the kind, young man," he rejoined.
<P>
"I will."
<P>
"Make the least disturbance and you shall pay dearly for
it. Understand, sir, I'm not to be trifled with."
<P>
"And I'm not to be frightened into submission," I returned
with spirit. "I have a right to leave when I please and I shall do so."
<P>
"Not till I am ready," said he, coolly.
<P>
I was nonplussed and alarmed&#151; nonplussed over the question
of how to get away, and alarmed at the thought of what might happen if I
was compelled to remain.
<P>
I began to understand Mr. Aaron Woodward's true character.
Like Duncan, he was not only a bully, but also a brute. Words having failed,
he was now evidently going to see what physical force could accomplish.
<P>
"Forewarned is forearmed" is an old saying, and now I
applied it to myself. In other words, I prepared for an encounter. On the
centre table lay a photograph album. It was thick and heavy and capable of
proving quite a formidable article of defence. I picked it up, and stepping
behind a large easy chair, stood on my guard.
<P>
Seeing the action, the merchant paused.
<P>
"What are going to do with that?" he asked.
<P>
"You'll see if you keep on," I replied. "I don't intend
to stand this much longer. You had better open the door."
<P>
"You think you're a brainy boy, Strong," he sneered.
<P>
"I've got too much brain to let you ride over me."
<P>
"You think you have a case against me and Mr. Stumpy,
and you intend to drag it into court and make a great fuss over it," he went
on.
<P>
"I'm going to get back my father's honest name."
<P>
"What you mean is that you intend to drag my name in the
mire," he stormed.
<P>
"You can have it so, if you please."
<P>
"I shall not allow it. You, a young upstart!"
<P>
"Take care, Mr. Woodward!"
<P>
"Do you think I will submit to it?" He glared at me and
threw a hasty glance around the room. "Not much!"
<P>
Suddenly he stepped to the windows and pulled down the
shades. Then he took out his watch and looked at the time. I wondered what
he was up to now. I was not long in finding out.
<P>
"Listen to me," he said in a low, intense tone, "We are
alone in this house&#151; you and I&#151; and will be for half an hour or more. You
are in my power. What will you do? Give up all the papers you possess and
promise to keep silent about what you know or take the consequences."
<P>
It would be telling an untruth to say I was not thoroughly
startled by the merchant's sudden change of manner. He was about to assault
me, that was plain to see, and he wished me to understand that no one was
near either to assist me or to bear witness against his dark doings.
<P>
I must fight my own battles, not only in a war of words,
but also in a war of blows. I was not afraid after the first shock was over.
My cause was a just one, and I would stand by it, no matter what the consequences
might be.
<P>
"I don't fear you, Aaron Woodward," I replied, as steadily
as I could. "I am in the right and shall stick up for it, no matter what
comes."
<P>
"You defy me?" he cried in a rage.
<P>
"Yes, I do."
<P>
I had hardly uttered the words before he caught up a heavy
cane standing beside his desk and made for me. There was a wicked determination
in his eyes, and I could see that all the evil passions within him were aroused.
<P>
"We'll see who is master here," he went on.
<P>
"Stand back!" I cried. "Don't come a step nearer! If you
do, you'll be sorry for it!"
<P>
He paid no attention to my warning, but kept on advancing,
raising the cane over his head as he did so.
<P>
When he was within three feet of me he aimed a blow at
my head. Had he hit me, I am certain he would have cracked my skull open.
<P>
But I was too quick for him, I dodged, and the cane struck
the back of the chair.
<P>
Before he could recover from his onslaught I hurled the
album at him with all force. It struck him full in the face, and must have
loosened several of his teeth, for he put his hand up to his mouth as he
reeled over backward.
<P>
I was not astonished. I had accomplished just what I had
set out to do. My one thought now was to make my escape. How was it to be
done?
<P>
The key to the door was in the merchant's pocket, and
this I could, not obtain. The windows were closed, and the blinds drawn down.
<P>
I had but an instant to think. Spluttering to himself,
my assailant was endeavoring to rise to his feet.
<P>
A hasty glance around the room revealed a door partly
hidden by a curtain next the mantelpiece. Where it led to I did not know,
but concluding that any place would be better than to remain in the library,
I tried the door, found it open, and slipped out.
<P>
"Stop, stop!" roared Mr. Woodward. "Stop, this instant!"
<P>
But I did not stop. I found myself in the dining room,
and at once put the long table between us.
<P>
"Don't you come any nearer," I called out sharply. "If
you do, it may be at the cost of your life."
<P>
As I spoke I picked up a fancy silver knife that lay on
the table. It had a rough resemblance to a pocket pistol, and gave me the
idea of palming it off as such.
<P>
"Would you shoot me?" cried the merchant, in sudden terror,
as he saw what he supposed was the barrel of a revolver pointed at his head.
<P>
"Why shouldn't I?" was the reply. "You have no right to
detain me."
<P>
"I don't want to detain you. I only want to come to a
settlement," he returned lamely.
<P>
"And I want nothing more to do with you. I'll give you
one minute to show me the way to the front door."
<P>
"Yes, but, Strong&#151;"
<P>
"No more talk, if you please. Do you intend to show me
the way out, or shall I fire?"
<P>
Then Mr. Aaron Woodward showed what a coward he really
was. He gave a cry of horror and sank completely out of sight.
<P>
"Don't shoot, Strong. I pray you, take care. I'll show
you the way out, indeed I will!"
<P>
"Well, hurry about it. I don't intend to stand any more
nonsense."
<P>
"Here, this way. Please stop pointing that pistol at me;
it might go off, you know."
<P>
"Then the sooner you show me the way out, the better for
you," I returned coolly, inwardly amused at his sudden change of manner
<P>
"This way, then. I&#151; I trust you will keep this&#151; this little
meeting of ours a secret."
<P>
"Why should I?"
<P>
"Because it&#151; it would do no good to have it made public."
<P>
"I'll see about it," was my reply.
<P>
By this time we had reached the front door, and with unwilling
hands the merchant opened it.
<P >
"Now stand aside and let me pass," I commanded.
<P>
"I will. But, Strong&#151;"
<P>
"No more words are needed," I returned. "I have had enough
of you, Mr. Aaron Woodward. The next time you hear from me it will be in
quite a different shape."
<P>
"What do you mean?" he cried, in sudden alarm.
<P>
"You will find out soon enough. In the meantime let me
return your fancy knife. I have no further use for it."
<P>
I tossed the article over. He looked at it and then at
me. Clearly he was mad enough to "chew me up." Bidding him a mocking good
night, I ran down the steps and hurried away.
<h3>CHAPTER XX</h3>
<h4>AT THE PRISON</h4>
<P>
Mr. Woodward's
actions had aroused me as I had never been aroused before. My eyes were wide
open at last. I realized that if I ever expected to gain our family rights
I must fight for them&#151; and fight unflinchingly to the bitter end.
<P>
It was nearly ten o'clock when I reached the Widow Canby's
house. I met my Uncle Enos on the porch. He had grown impatient, and was
about to start for Darbyville in search of me.
<P>
In the dining room I told my story. All laughed heartily
at the ruse I had played upon the merchant, but were indignant at the treatment
I had received.
<P>
"Wish I'd been with you," remarked my uncle, with a vigorous
shake of his head. "I'd a-smashed in his figurehead, keelhaul me if I wouldn't!"
<P>
"What do you intend to do now?" asked Kate.
<P>
"Let's see; to-day is Friday. If you will take us to Trenton
to-morrow, Uncle Enos, I'll start for Chicago on Monday."
<P>
"Don't you think you had better have this Woodward arrested
first?" asked Captain Enos.
<P>
"No; I would rather let him think that for the present
I had dropped the whole matter. It may throw him off his guard and enable
me to pick up more clews against him."
<P>
"That's an idea. Roger, you've got a level head on your
shoulders, and we can't do any better than follow your advice," returned
my uncle.
<P>
I did but little sleeping that night. For a long time
I lay awake thinking over my future actions. Then when I did fall into a
doze my rest was broken by dreams of the fire at the tool house and Mr.
Woodward's attack.
<P>
I was up at five o'clock in the morning, attending to
the regular chores. I did not know who would do them during my absence, and
as soon as the widow appeared I spoke to her on the subject.
<P>
"Your uncle mentioned the matter last night," said Mrs.
Canby. "He said he would do all that was required until you came back. He
doesn't want to remain idle all day, and thought the work would just suit
him."
<P>
This was kind of Uncle Enos, and I told him so when an
hour later he appeared, dressed in his best, his trunk having arrived the
evening before.
<P>
"Yes, Roger, I'd rather do it than sit twirling my thumbs,
a-waiting for you to come back," said he. "I used to do such work years ago,
before I shipped on the Anna Siegel, and to do it again will make me feel
like a boy once more. But come; let's go to mess and then hoist anchor and
away."
<P>
A few minutes later we were at breakfast. Then I put on
my good clothes and brought around the horse and carriage, for the Widow
Canby insisted upon driving us down to Newville by way of Darbyville just
to show folks, as she said, that she had not lost confidence in me.
<P>
Kate was in a flutter of excitement. She had wished to
see my father every day since he had been taken away. As for myself, I was
fully as impatient. My father was very dear to me, and every time I thought
of him I prayed that God would place it within my power to clear his name
from the stain that now rested upon him.
<P>
We reached the station in Newville five minutes before
train time. My uncle procured our tickets and also checked the basket of
delicacies the Widow Canby had prepared.
<P>
"Remember me to Mr. Strong," said the widow, as we boarded
the train. "Tell him I don't believe he's guilty, and perhaps other people
in Darbyville won't think so either before long."
<P>
A moment later and we were off. Kate and Uncle Enos occupied
one seat, and I sat directly behind them. A ride of an hour followed, and
finally, after crossing a number of other railroads, we rolled into a brick
station, and the conductor sang out:&#151;
<P>
"Trenton!"
<P>
It was eleven o'clock when we crossed the wooden foot-bridge
of the station and emerged upon the street.
<P>
"We'll go to the prison at once," said my uncle. "Perhaps
it isn't 'visiting day,' as they call it, but I reckon I can fix it. Sailors
on shore have special privileges," he added with a laugh.
<P>
"Which way is it?" asked Kate.
<P>
"I don't know. We'll take a carriage and trust to the
driver."
<P>
He called a coach, and soon we were rolling off.
<P>
Finally the coach stopped, and the driver sprang from
his box.
<P>
"Here you are, sir," he said, as he opened the door.
<P>
I looked up at the big stone buildings before us. My father
was behind those walls. I glanced at Kate. The poor girl was in tears.
<P>
"You had better stay on board here till I go in and take
soundings," said Captain Enos. "I won't be gone long."
<P>
Jumping to the pavement, he walked up to the big open
door and entered.
<P>
"What a dreadful place!" said my sister, as she strained
her eyes to catch sight of some prisoner.
<P>
My uncle was gone not over ten minutes, yet the wait seemed
an age. He returned with a brightened face.
<P>
"I had hard work to get permission, but we are to have
half an hour's talk with your father under the supervision of a deputy,"
he explained.
<P>
In another moment we were inside. We walked along a wide
corridor and into an office, and then a short, stout man, Mr. Carr, the deputy,
joined us.
<P>
"This way, please," he said, and gave a kindly glance
at Kate and myself. "You will have to leave the basket here. I will see that
it reaches the&#151; the&#151; your father."
<P>
He led the way. How my heart beat! Why, I cannot tell.
<P>
"I'll go in first," said my Uncle Enos.
<P>
We entered a room. In a moment the deputy brought in a
man dressed in striped clothing, and with his hair cut close. It was my father.
<P>
My uncle and I rushed forward. But we were too late. With
a cry Kate was in his arms. It was a great moment all around.
<P>
"My children! My Katie and my Roger!" was all my father
could say, but the words went straight home.
<P>
"I am heartily glad that you are back," he said then to
my uncle. "You will look after them, Enos, until I am free."
<P>
"Indeed I will," replied Captain Enos, heartily. "But
you must listen to Roger. He has a long story to tell."
<P>
"Then tell it. I am dying to hear news from home." We
sat down, and I told my story. Perhaps the deputy ought not to have allowed
me to say all I did, but he pretended not to hear.
<P>
My father listened with keen attention to every word,
and as I went on, his eyes grew brighter and brighter.
<P>
"Roger, my faithful boy, you almost make me hope for freedom,"
he cried. "Oh, how I long to be set right before the world!"
<P>
"God make it so," put in my uncle, solemnly. "To suffer
unjustly is terrible."
<P>
Then I told of my interview with Mr. Woodward in his library
and of Holtzmann.
<P>
"Holtzmann was one of the principal witnesses against
me," said my father. "So was Nicholas Weaver, who managed the Brooklyn business
for Holland &amp; Mack. Who John Stumpy can be I do not know. Perhaps I would
if I saw him face to face. There was another man&#151; he was quite bald, with
a red blotch on the front of his hand&#151; who was brought forward by Woodward
to prove that he had nothing to do with the presentation of the forged checks
and notes, but what his name was I have forgotten."
<P>
"This can't be the man, for he has a heavy head of hair,"
I replied. "But I am sure Stumpy is not his true name."
<P>
"Probably not. Well, Roger, do your best, not only for
me but for Katie's sake and your own."
<P>
Then the conversation became general, and all too soon
the half hour was at an end. My father sent his regards to Mrs. Canby, with
many thanks for the basket of delicacies, and then with a kiss for Kate and
a shake of the hand to Uncle Enos and me, we parted.
<P>
Little was said on the way back. No one cared to go to
a restaurant, and we took the first train homeward.
<P>
It was dark when we reached Newville. The Widow Canby's
carriage was at the depot waiting for us.
<P>
"Suppose I get my ticket for Chicago now," said I. "It
will save time Monday, and I can find out all about the train."
<P>
"A good idea," returned my uncle. "I'll go with you."
<P>
So while Kate joined Mrs. Canby we entered the depot.
<P>
The ticket was soon in my possession, and then I asked
the ticket seller a number of questions concerning the route and the time
I would reach my destination.
<P>
Suddenly instinct prompted me to turn quickly. I did so
and found John Stumpy at my shoulder.
<h3>CHAPTER XXI</h3>
<h4>A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE</h4>
<P>
Mr. John Stumpy had evidently been watching my proceedings closely,
for when I turned to him he was quite startled. However, it did not take
him long to recover, and then, bracing up, he hurried away without a word.
<P>
He was now neatly dressed and had had his face shaved.
I conjectured that Mr. Woodward had advised this change in order to more
fully carry out the deception in relation to the tramp's real character.
<P>
"There's that Stumpy," I whispered to Captain Enos, as
I pointed my finger at the man. "He has been watching us."
<P>
"How do you know?" asked my uncle.
<P>
"Because he was just looking over my shoulder," I replied.
"Shall I speak to him? I'd like to know what he intends to do next."
<P>
"It won't do any good. It ain't likely he'd tell you anything,
and if he did, it wouldn't be the truth."
<P>
"Maybe it might."
<P>
"Well, do as you think best, Roger, only don't be too
long&#151; the widow and Kate are waiting, you know."
<P>
Pushing through the crowd, I tapped Stumpy on the shoulder.
He looked around in assumed surprise.
<P>
"Hullo!" he exclaimed sharply. "What do you want?"
<P>
"Nothing much," I returned. "I just saw you were greatly
interested in what I was doing."
<P>
"Why, I didn't see you before."
<P>
"You were just looking over my shoulder."
<P>
"You're mistaken, young man, just as you are in several
other things."
<P>
"I'm not mistaken in several other things."
<P>
"What do you intend to do?" he asked curiously.
<P>
"That's my business."
<P>
"Where have you been?"
<P>
"That is my business also."
<P>
"Strong, you're a fool," he whispered. "Do you think you
can hurt men like Mr. Woodward and myself?"
<P>
"I can bring you to justice."
<P>
"Bah! I suppose you think you can do wonders by going
to Chicago."
<P>
"How do you know I am going to Chicago?" I questioned
quickly.
<P>
Stumpy's face fell, as he realized the slip he had made.
<P>
"Never mind. But you won't gain anything," he went on.
"Better stay home and save your money."
<P>
And to avoid further talk he pushed his way through the
crowd and was lost to sight.
<P>
A moment later I joined the others in the carriage. While
driving home I related the conversation recorded above.
<P>
"It's too bad he found out you were going to Chicago,"
said my uncle. "He may try to stop you."
<P>
"I'll keep my eyes open," I replied.
<P>
The remainder of the day was spent in active work around
the widow's place. Not only did I labor all the afternoon, but far into the
evening as well, to show that I did not intend to shirk my duty even though
I was going away. Besides, Mrs. Canby had treated me so well that I was almost
willing to work my fingers to the bone to serve her.
<P>
The following day was Sunday. Kate and I were in the habit
of attending church and Sunday-school over in Darbyville, but we shrank from
doing so now. But Uncle Enos and I went to church, and despite the many curious
eyes levelled at me, I managed to give attention to an excellent sermon.
I noticed that the Woodward pew was empty, but then this was of common occurrence
and excited no comment.
<P>
On Sunday evening my handbag stood in my room packed,
ready for my departure. Dick Blair came over to see me and brought strange
and sad news.
<P>
Duncan Woodward and Pultzer, his intimate crony, had gotten
into a row in a pool room down in Newville and were both under arrest. Mr.
Woodward and Mr. Pultzer had gone off to get their sons out of jail. Dick
did not know how the row had started, but had heard that the young men had
been drinking heavily.
<P>
I was much shocked at the news, and so were the others.
If affairs kept on like this, Mr. Aaron Woodward would certainly have his
hands full.
<P>
I retired early so as to be on hand the next day. Sleep
was out of the question. I had never been a hundred miles away from Darbyville,
and the prospect of leaving filled me with excitement.
<P>
I was up long before it was necessary, but found Kate
ahead of me.
<P>
"You're going to have a good, hot breakfast before you
go," she said. "Sit right down. It's all ready."
<P>
Presently, as I was eating, my uncle and Mrs. Canby joined
me. They were full of advice as to what to do and what to avoid, and I listened
to all they had to say attentively.
<P>
But all things must come to an end, and at length breakfast
was over. My Uncle Enos and Kate drove me to Newville, and waited till the
train rolled in.
<P>
"Good-by, Roger," said Kate. "Please, <I>please,</I> now
do keep out of trouble."
<P>
"I will, Kate," I returned, and kissed her. Then I shook
hands with my uncle.
<P>
"Keep a clear weather eye and a strong hand at the wheel,
Roger, my boy," he said, "and you'll make port all safe."
<P>
"I'll try, Uncle Enos."
<P>
A moment more and I was on the cars. Then with an "All
aboard" the conductor gave the signal, and the train moved off.
<P>
I passed into the car and took a vacant seat near the
centre. I had hardly sat down before a well-dressed stranger took the seat
beside me.
<P>
"Hot day," said he, after he had arranged his bag on the
floor beside my own.
<P>
"Yes, it is," I replied, "and dry, too."
<P>
"Meanest part of the country I've struck yet," he went
on. "Don't have any such climate as this out West."
<P>
"I should think that would depend on where you come from,"
I returned, with a short laugh.
<P>
"I hail from Chicago. It's hot there, but we get plenty
of breeze from the lakes."
<P>
I looked at the man with some attention. He came from
the city I intended to visit, and perhaps he might give me some information.
<P>
He was a burly man of middle age, and, as I have said,
well dressed, though a trifle loud. His hair was black, as was also his mustache,
which he continually kept smoothing down with one hand. I did not like his
looks particularly, nor his tone of voice. They reminded me strongly of some
one, but whom I could not remember.
<P>
"You come from Chicago," I said. "I am going there."
<P>
"Is that so? Then we can travel together. I like to have
some one going along, don't you?"
<P>
I felt like saying that that would depend on who the some
one was, but thinking this would hardly be polite, I returned:&#151;
<P>
"I don't know. I've never travelled before."
<P>
"No? Well, it's fun at first, but you soon get tired of
it. My name is Allen Price; what is yours?"
<P>
"Roger Strong."
<P>
"Glad to meet you." He extended his hand. "You're rather
young to be travelling alone&#151; that is, going a distance. Do you smoke? We'll
go into the smoker and take it easy. I have some prime cigars."
<P>
"Thank you, I don't smoke."
<P>
"That's too bad. Nothing like a good cigar to quiet a
man's nerves when he's riding. So you're going to Chicago? On a visit?"
<P>
"No, sir; on business."
<P>
"Yes? Rather young for business&#151; excuse me for saying
so."
<P>
"It is a personal business."
<P>
"Oh, I see. Going to claim a dead uncle's property or
something like that, I suppose. Ha! ha! well, I wish you luck."
<P>
Mr. Allen Price rattled on in this fashion for some time,
and at length I grew interested in the man in spite of myself. I was positive
I had seen him before, but where I could not tell. I asked him if he had
ever been to Darbyville.
<P>
"Never heard of the place," he replied. "Only been in
Jersey a month, and that time was spent principally in Jersey City and Camden.
I'm in the pottery business. Our principal office is in Chicago."
<P>
"Do you know much about that city?"
<P>
"Lived there all my life."
<P>
I was on the point of asking him about Holtzmann, but
on second thought decided to remain silent.
<P>
On and on sped the train, making but few stops. There
was a dining-car attached but I was travelling on a cheap scale, and made
my dinner and supper from the generous lunch the widow had provided.
<P>
Mr. Price went to the dining-car and also the smoker.
He returned about nine o'clock in the evening, just as I was falling into
a light doze.
<P>
"Thought I'd get a sleeper," he explained. "But they are
all full, so I'll have to snooze beside you here."
<P>
His breath smelt strongly of liquor, but I had no right
to object, and he dropped heavily into the seat.
<P>
Presently I went sound asleep. How long I slept I do not
know. When I awoke it was with a sharp, stinging sensation in the head. A
pungent odor filled my nose, the scent coming from a handkerchief some one
had thrown over my face.
<P>
With a gasp I pulled the handkerchief aside and sat up.
Beside me sat Mr. Allen Price with my handbag on his lap. He had a number
of keys in his hand and was trying to unlock the bag.
<h3>CHAPTER XXII</h3>
<h4>A TELEGRAM</h4>
<P>
I was startled and indignant when
I discovered Mr. Allen Price with my handbag, trying to open it. It looked
very much as if my fellow-passenger was endeavoring to rob me.
<P>
I had suspected from the start that this man was not
"straight." There was that peculiar something about his manner which I did
not like. He had been altogether too familiar from the first; too willing
to make himself agreeable.
<P>
What he expected to find in my bag I could not imagine.
If his mission was robbery pure and simple, why had he not selected some
one who looked richer than myself? There was, I am certain, nothing about
me to make him believe I had anything of great value in the bag.
<P>
"What are you doing with my valise?" I demanded as I
straightened up.
<P>
My sudden question made the man almost jump to his feet.
The bag dropped from his lap to the floor, and the keys in his hand jingled
after it.
<P>
"I&#151; I&#151; didn't think you were awake," he stammered.
<P>
"You didn't?" I repeated, puzzled as to what to say.
<P>
"No&#151; I&#151; I&#151;"
<P>
"You were trying to open my bag."
<P>
"So I was&#151; but it's all a mistake, I assure you."
<P>
"A mistake?"
<P>
"Quite a mistake, Strong." He cleared his throat. "The
fact is, I'm suffering so from the toothache that I'm hardly able to judge
of what I'm doing. I thought your bag was my own."
<P>
"They are not much alike," I returned bluntly.
<P>
"Well, you see mine is a new one, and I'm not used to
it yet. I hope you don't think I was trying to rob you?" he went on, with
a look of reproach.
<P>
I was silent. I did think that that was just what he was
trying to do, but I hardly cared to say so.
<P>
"It's awful to have such toothaches as I get," he continued,
putting his hand to his cheek. "They come on me unawares, and drive me frantic.
I wanted to get my teeth attended to in Jersey City when I was there, but
I didn't have time."
<P>
"What's this on the handkerchief?" I asked.
<P>
"Oh, I guess I spilled some of my toothache cure on it,"
he replied, after some hesitation. "I used some and then put the bottle back
in the valise. That's how I came to look for the bottle again. I hope you're
not offended. It was all a mistake."
<P>
"It's all right if that's the case," I returned coolly.
<P>
Holding my valise on my lap, I settled back in the seat
again, but not to sleep. The little adventure had aroused me thoroughly.
Mr. Allen Price sat beside me for a few moments in silence.
<P>
"Guess I'll go into the smoker," he said finally, as he
rose. "Maybe a cigar will help me," and taking up his handbag, he walked
down the aisle.
<P>
In a dreamy way I meditated over what had occurred. I
could not help but think that the handkerchief I had found spread over my
face had been saturated with chloroform, and that my fellow-passenger had
endeavored to put me in a sound sleep and then rifle my bag. Of course I
might be mistaken, but still I was positive that Mr. Allen Price would bear
watching.
<P>
About four o'clock in the morning the train came to a
sudden stop. The jar was so pronounced that it woke nearly all of the passengers.
<P>
Thinking that possibly we had arrived at our destination,
I raised the window and peered out.
<P>
Instead of being in the heart of a city, however, I soon
discovered we were in a belt of timber land. Huge trees lined the road on
both sides, and ahead I could hear the flowing of a mountain stream.
<P>
The train hands were out with their lanterns, and by their
movements it was plain to see that something was up.
<P>
I waited in my seat for ten minutes or more, and then
as a number of passengers left the car, I took up my bag and did the same.
<P>
A walk to the front of the train soon made known the cause
of the delay. Over a small mountain stream a strong wooden bridge with iron
frame had been built. Near the bridge grew a number of tall trees, and one
of these had been washed loose by the water and overturned in such a manner
that the largest branch blocked the progress of the locomotive. The strong
headlight had revealed the state of affairs to the engineer, and he had stopped
within five feet of the obstruction. Had he run on, it is impossible to calculate
what amount of damage might have been done.
<P>
"Don't see what we are going to do, except to run back
to Smalleyville," said the engineer, who was in consultation with the conductor.
<P>
"Can't we roll the tree out of the way?" asked the latter
official.
<P>
The engineer shook his head.
<P>
"Too heavy. All the men on the train couldn't budge it."
<P>
They stood in silence for a moment.
<P>
"If you had a rope, you could make the engine haul it,"
I suggested to the fireman, who was a young fellow.
<P>
"A good idea," he exclaimed, and reported it to his superior.
<P>
"First-class plan; but we haven't got the rope," said
the engineer.
<P>
"Have you got an axe?"
<P>
"Yes."
<P>
"Then why not chop it off?"
<P>
"That's so! Larry, bring the axes."
<P>
"It won't do any good," said one of the brakemen who had
just come up. "The bridge has shifted."
<P>
An examination proved his assertion to be correct. As
soon as this became known, a danger light was hung at either end of the
structure, and then we started running backward to Smalleyville.
<P>
"How long will this delay us?" I asked of the conductor
as he came through, explaining matters.
<P>
"I can't tell. Perhaps only a few hours, perhaps more.
It depends on how soon the wrecking gang arrive on the spot. As soon as they
get there, they will go right to work, and it won't take them long to fix
matters up."
<P>
Smalleyville proved to be a small town of not over five
hundred inhabitants. There was quite an excitement around the depot when
the train came in, and despatches were sent in various directions.
<P>
Presently a shower came up, and this drove the passengers
to the cars and the station. I got aboard the train at first to listen to
what the train hands might have to say. I found one of the brakemen quite
a friendly fellow, and willing to talk.
<P>
"This rain will make matters worse," said he. "That tree
was leaning against the bridge for all it was worth, and if it loosens any
more it will carry the thing away clean."
<P>
"Isn't there danger of trains coming from the other way?"
<P>
"Not now. We've telegraphed to Chicago, and no train will
leave till everything is in running order."
<P>
"When does the next train arrive behind us?"
<P>
"At 9.30 this morning."
<P>
We chatted for quite a while. Then there was a commotion
on the platform, and we found that part of the wrecking gang had arrived
on a hand-car.
<P>
They brought with them a great lot of tools, and soon
a flat car with a hoisting machine was run out of a shed, and they were off.
<P>
By this time it was raining in torrents, and the station
platform was deserted. Not caring to get wet, I again took my seat in the
car, and presently fell asleep.
<P>
When I awoke I found it was six o'clock. The rain still
fell steadily, without signs of abating.
<P>
I was decidedly hungry, and buttoning my coat up tightly
about my neck, I sallied forth in search of a restaurant.
<P>
I found one within a block of the depot, and entering,
I called for some coffee and muffins&#151; first, however, assuring myself that
my train was not likely to leave for fully an hour.
<P>
While busy with what the waiter had brought, I saw Mr.
Allen Price enter. Luckily the table I sat at was full, and he was compelled
to take a seat some distance from me.
<P>
"Good morning, my young friend," said he, as he stopped
for an instant in front of me.
<P>
I was surprised at his pleasant manner. He acted as if
nothing had ever happened to bring up a coolness between us.
<P>
"Good morning," I replied briefly.
<P>
"Terrible rain, this, isn't it?"
<P>
"It is."
<P>
"My toothache's much better," he went on, "and I feel
like myself once more. Funny I mistook your valise for mine, last night,
wasn't it?"
<P>
"I don't know," I replied flatly.
<P>
I returned to my breakfast, and, seeing I would not converse
further, the man passed on and sat down. But I felt that his eyes were on
me, and instinctively I made up my mind to be on my guard.
<P>
As I was about to leave the place, several more passengers
came in, and by what they said I learned that the train would not start for
Chicago till noon, the bridge being so badly damaged that the road engineer
would not let anything cross until it was propped up.
<P>
Not caring to go back to the train, I entered the waiting-room
and took in all there was to be seen. At one end of the place was a news
stand, and I walked up to this to look at the picture papers that were displayed.
<P>
I was deeply interested in a cartoon on the middle pages
of an illustrated paper when I heard Mr. Price's voice asking for some Chicago
daily, and then making inquiries as to where the telegraph once was located.
<P>
He did not see me, and I at once stepped out of sight
behind him.
<P>
Having received his directions, Mr. Price sat down to
write out his telegram. Evidently what he wrote did not satisfy him, for
he tore up several slips of paper before he managed to prepare one that suited
him.
<P>
Then he arose, and throwing the scraps in a wad on the
floor, walked away.
<P>
Unobserved, I picked up the wad. Right or wrong, I was
bound to see what it contained. Perhaps it might be of no earthly interest
to me; on the other hand, it might contain much I would desire to know. Strange
things had happened lately, and I was prepared for all sorts of surprises.
<P>
A number of the slips of paper were missing and the remainder
were so crumpled that the pencil marks were nearly illegible.
<P>
At length I managed to fit one of the sheets together
and then read these words:&#151;
<BLOCKQUOTE>
C. Hholtzmann>, Chicago:
  <P ALIGN=left class=left>
  Look out for a young man claiming to&#151;
</BLOCKQUOTE>
<h3>CHAPTER XXIII</h3>
<h4>IN CHICAGO</h4>
<P>
I had not been mistaken in my opinion
of Mr. Allen Price. He was following me, and doing it with no good intention.
<P>
I concluded the man must be employed by Mr. Woodward.
Perhaps I had seen him at some time in Darbyville, and so thought his face
familiar.
<P>
I was glad that if he was a detective I was aware of the
fact. I would now know how to trust him, and I made up my mind that if he
got the best of me it would be my own fault.
<P>
One thing struck me quite forcibly. The merchant and John
Stumpy both considered my proposed visit to Chris Holtzmann of importance.
They would not have put themselves to the trouble and expense of hiring some
one to follow me if this was not so. Though Mr. Aaron Woodward was rich,
he was close, and did not spend an extra dollar except upon himself.
<P>
I was chagrined at the thought that Holtzmann would be
prepared to receive me. I had hoped to come upon him unawares, and get into
his confidence before he could realize what I was after.
<P>
I began to wonder when the telegram would reach Chicago.
Perhaps something by good fortune might delay it.
<P>
Mr. Allen Price walked over to the telegraph office, and
following him with my eyes I saw him pay for the message and then stroll
away.
<P>
Hardly had he gone before I too stepped up to the counter.
<P>
"How long will it take to send a message to Chicago?"
I asked of the clerk in charge.
<P>
"Probably till noon," was the reply. "The storm has crippled
us, and we are having trouble with our lineman."
<P>
"It won't go before noon!" I repeated, and my heart gave
a bound. "Are you sure?"
<P>
"Yes; perhaps even longer."
<P>
"How about the message that gentleman just handed in?"
<P>
"I told him I would send it as soon as possible,"
<P>
"Did you tell him it wouldn't go before noon?"
<P>
"No; he didn't ask," returned the clerk, coolly. He was
evidently not going to let any business slip if he could help it.
<P>
"Is there any possible way I can get to Chicago before
noon?" I went on.
<P>
The clerk shook his head. "I don't think there is," he
replied.
<P>
"What is the nearest station on the other side of the
bridge?"
<P>
"Foley."
<P>
"And how far is that from Chicago?"
<P>
"Twelve miles."
<P>
"Thank you."
<P>
I walked away from the counter filled with a sudden resolve.
I must reach Chicago before the telegram or Mr. Allen Price. If I did not,
my trip to the city of the lakes would be a failure.
<P>
How was the thing to be accomplished? Walking out on the
covered platform, out of sight of the man who was following me, I tried to
solve the problem.
<P>
Smalleyville was a good ten miles from the misplaced bridge,
and in a soaking rain such a distance was too far to walk. Perhaps I might
get a carriage to take me to the spot. I supposed the cost would be several
dollars, but decided not to stand on that amount.
<P>
I had about made up my mind to hunt up a livery stable,
when some workingmen rolled up to the station on a hand-car.
<P>
"Where are you going?" I inquired of one of them.
<P>
"Down to the Foley bridge," was the reply,
<P>
"Will you take a passenger?" I went on quickly.
<P>
"You'll have to ask the boss."
<P>
The boss proved to be a jolly German.
<P>
"Vont ter haf a ride, does you!" he laughed.
<P>
"I'm not over particular about the ride," I explained.
"I've got to get to Chicago as soon as possible, even if I have to walk."
<P>
"Vell, jump on, den."
<P>
I did so, and a moment later we were off. I was pretty
confident that Mr. Allen Price had not witnessed my departure, and I hoped
he would not find it out for some hours to come.
<P>
The rain had now slackened, so there was no further danger
of getting soaked to the skin. There were four men on the car besides the
boss, and seeing they were short a hand I took hold with a will.
<P>
Fortunately the grade was downward, and we had but little
difficulty in sending the car on its way. At the end of half an hour the
stream came in sight, and then as we slackened up I hopped off.
<P>
Down by the water's edge I found that the bridge had shifted
fully six inches out of line with the roadbed. It was, however, in a pretty
safe condition, and I had no difficulty in crossing to the other side.
<P>
Despite the storm a goodly number of men were assembled
on the opposite bank, anxiously watching the efforts of the workmen. Among
them I found a man, evidently a cabman, standing near a coupe, the horses
of which were still smoking from a long run.
<P>
"Are you from Foley?" I asked, stepping up.
<P>
"No; just come all the way from Chicago," was the reply.
"Had to bring two men down that wanted to get to Smalleyville."
<P>
This was interesting news. Perhaps I could get the man
to take me back with him. Of course he would take me if I hired him in the
regular way, but if I did this, I was certain he would charge me a small
fortune.
<P>
"I am going to Chicago," I said. "I just came from
Smalleyville."
<P>
"That so? Want to hire my rig?"
<P>
"You charge too much," I returned. "A fellow like me can't
afford luxuries."
<P>
"Take you there for two dollars. It's worth five&#151; those
two men gave me ten."
<P>
"What time will you land me in Chicago?"
<P>
"Where do you want to go?"
<P>
That question was a poser. I knew no more of the city
of Chicago than I did of Paris or Pekin. Yet I did not wish to be set down
on the outskirts, and not to show my ignorance I answered cautiously:&#151;
<P>
"To the railroad depot."
<P>
"Have you the time now?"
<P>
"It is about seven o'clock."
<P>
"I'll be there by nine."
<P>
"All right. Land me there by that time, and I'll pay you
the two dollars."
<P>
"It's a go. Jump in," he declared.
<P>
I did so. A moment later he gathered up the reins, and
we went whirling down the road.
<P>
The ride was an easy one, and as we bowled along I had
ample opportunity to ponder over my situation. I wondered what Mr. Allen
Price would think when he discovered I was nowhere to be found. I could well
imagine his chagrin, and I could not help smiling at the way I had outwitted
him. I was not certain what sort of a man Chris Holtzmann would prove to
be, and therefore it was utterly useless to plan a means of approaching him.
<P>
At length we reached the suburbs of Chicago, and rolled
down one of the broad avenues. It was now clear and bright, and the clean
broad street with its handsome houses pleased me very much.
<P>
In half an hour we reached the business portion of the
city, and soon the coupe came to a halt and the driver opened the door.
<P>
"Here we are," said he.
<P>
I jumped to the ground and gazed around. Opposite was
the railroad station, true enough, and beyond blocks and blocks of tall business
buildings, which reminded me strongly of New York.
<P>
I paid the cabman the two dollars I had promised, and
he drove off.
<P>
In Chicago at last! I looked around. I was in the heart
of a great city, knowing no one, and with no idea of where to go.
<P>
Yet my heart did not fail me. My mind was too full of
the object of my quest to allow me to become faint-hearted. I was there for
a purpose, and that purpose must be accomplished.
<P>
My clothes were still damp, but the sunshine was fast
drying them. Near by was a bootblack's chair, and dropping into this, I had
him polish my shoes and brush me up generally.
<P>
While he was performing the operation I questioned him
concerning the streets and gained considerable information.
<P>
"Did you ever hear of a man by the name of Chris Holtzmann?"
I asked.
<P>
"I dunno," was the slow reply. "What does he do?"
<P>
"I don't know what business he is in. He came from Brooklyn."
<P>
The bootblack shook his head.
<P>
"This city is a big place. There might be a dozen men
by his name here. The street what you spoke about has lots of saloons and
theatres on it. Maybe he's in that business."
<P>
"Maybe he is," I returned. "I must find out somehow."
<P>
"You can look him up in the directory. You'll find one
over in the drug store on the corner."
<P>
"Thank you; I guess that's what I'll do," I replied.
<P>
When he had finished, I paid him ten cents for his work,
and walked over to the place he had mentioned.
<P>
A polite clerk waited on me and pointed out the directory
lying on a stand.
<P>
I looked it over carefully, and three minutes later walked
out with Chris Holtzmann's new address in my pocket.
<P>
As I did so, I saw a stream of people issue from the depot.
Some of them looked familiar. Was it possible that the train from Smalleyville
had managed to come through, after all? It certainly looked like it.
<P>
I was not kept long in doubt. I crossed over to make sure,
and an instant later found myself face to face with Allen Price!
<h3>CHAPTER XXIV</h3>
<h4>WHO MR. ALLEN PRICE WAS</h4>
<P>
I will not deny that I was considerably
taken aback by my unexpected meeting with the man who had been following
me. I had been firmly under the impression that he was still lolling around
Smalleyville, waiting for a chance to continue his journey.
<P>
But if I was surprised, so was Mr. Allen Price. Every
indication showed that he had not missed me at my departure, and that he
was under the belief that I had been left behind.
<P>
He stopped short and gazed at me in blank astonishment.
<P>
"Why&#151; why&#151; where did you come from?" he stammered.
<P>
"From Smalleyville," I returned as coolly as I could.
"And that's where you came from, too," I added.
<P>
"I didn't see you on the train," he went on, ignoring
my last remark.
<P>
"I didn't come up by train."
<P>
"Maybe you walked," he went on, with some anxiety.
<P>
"Oh no; I rode in a carriage."
<P>
"Humph! It seems to me you must have been in a tremendous
hurry."
<P>
"Perhaps I was."
<P>
"Why, you excite my curiosity. May I ask the cause of
your sudden impatience?"
<P>
He put the question in an apparently careless fashion,
but his sharp eyes betrayed his keen interest.
<P>
"You may."
<P>
"And what, was it?"
<P>
I looked at him for a moment in silence.
<P>
"I came to see a man."
<P>
"Ah! A friend? Perhaps he is seriously sick."
<P>
"I don't know if he is sick or not."
<P>
"And yet you hurried to see him?"
<P>
"Yes."
<P>
"Well, that&#151; that is out of the ordinary." He hesitated
for a moment. "Of course it is none of my business, but I am interested.
Perhaps I know the party and can help you. May I ask his name?"
<P>
"It's the same man you telegraphed to," I returned.
<P>
Mr. Allen Price stopped short and nearly dropped his handbag.
My unexpected reply had taken the "wind out of his sails."
<P>
"I telegraphed to?" he repeated.
<P>
"Exactly."
<P>
"But&#151; but I telegraphed to no one."
<P>
"Yes, you did."
<P>
"Why, my dear young friend, you are mistaken."
<P>
"I'm not your dear friend," I returned with spirit. "You
telegraphed to Chris Holtzmann to beware of me. Why did you do it?"
<P>
The man's face fell considerably, and he did not answer.
I went on:&#151;
<P>
"You are following me and trying to defeat the object
of my trip to Chicago. But you shall not do it. You pretend to be an ordinary
traveller, but you are nothing more than a spy sent on by Mr. Aaron Woodward
to stop me. But I have found you out, and now you can go back to him and
tell him that his little plan didn't work."
<P>
The man's brow grew black with anger. He was very angry,
and I could see that it was with difficulty he kept his hands off me.
<P>
"Think you're smart, don't you?" he sneered.
<P>
"I was too smart for you."
<P>
"But you don't know it all," he went on. "You don't know
it all&#151; not by a jugful."
<P>
"I know enough to steer clear of you."
<P>
"Maybe you do."
<P>
The man evidently did not know what to say, and as a matter
of fact, neither did I. I had told him some plain truths, and now I was anxious
to get away from him and think out my future course of action.
<P>
"What's your idea of calling on Chris Holtzmann?" he went
an after a long pause.
<P>
"That's my business."
<P>
"It won't do you any good."
<P>
"Perhaps it may."
<P>
"I know it won't," he replied in decided tones.
<P>
"What do you know about it?" I said sharply. "A moment
ago you denied knowing anything about me. Now I've done with you, and I want
you to leave me alone."
<P>
"You needn't get mad about it."
<P>
"I'll do as I please."
<P>
"No, you won't," he growled. "If you don't do as I want
you to, I'll have you arrested."
<P>
This was strong language, and I hardly knew what to say
in reply. Not that I was frightened by his threat, but what made the man
take such a strong personal interest in the matter?
<P>
As I have said, I was almost certain I had seen the fellow
before, though where and when was more than I could determine. Perhaps he
was disguised.
<P>
"Perhaps you don't think I know who you are," I said quickly.
<P>
My words were a perfect shock to Mr. Allen Price. In spite
of his bronzed face he turned pale.
<P>
"You know who I am? Why, I am as I tell you,&#151; Allen Price,"
he faltered.
<P>
"Really," I replied, with assumed sarcasm.
<P>
"Yes, really."
<P>
"I know better," I returned boldly.
<P>
I was hardly prepared for what was to follow. The man
caught me by the arm.
<P>
"Then what you know shall cost you dear," he cried. "I'm
not to be outwitted by a country boy. Help! Police! Police!"
<P>
As he uttered his call for assistance he let drop his
handbag and drew his purse from his pocket.
<P>
"I've got you, you young thief!" he cried, letting the
purse fall to the sidewalk. "You didn't think to be caught as easily, did
you? Help! Po&#151; Oh, officer, I'm glad you've come!" the last to a policeman
who had just hurried to the scene.
<P>
"What's the matter here?" demanded the minion of the law.
<P>
"I just caught this young fellow picking my pocket," exclaimed
Mr. Allen. "Where's my pocketbook?"
<P>
"There's a pocketbook on the sidewalk," put in a man in
the crowd that had quickly gathered.
<P>
"So it is." He picked it up. "You rascal! You thought
to get away in fine style, didn't you?" he continued to me.
<P>
For a moment I was too stunned to speak. The un-looked-for
turn of affairs took away my breath.
<P>
"I didn't pick his pocket," I burst out.
<P>
"Yes, you did."
<P>
"It isn't so. He's a swindler and is trying to get me
into trouble."
<P>
"Here! here! none of that!" broke in the officer. "Tell
me your story," he said to Mr. Allen Price.
<P>
"I was coming along looking in the shop windows," began
my accuser, "when I felt a hand in my pocket. I turned quickly and just in
time to catch this fellow trying to make off with my pocketbook."
<P>
"It is a falsehood, every word of it," I declared.
<P>
"Shut up!" said the officer, sternly. "Please go on."
<P>
"He is evidently a smart thief," continued Mr. Allen Price.
"I must see if I have lost anything else."
<P>
He began a pretended examination of his clothes. In the
meantime the crowd began to grow larger and larger.
<P>
"We can't stay here all day," said the policeman, roughly.
"What have you got to say to the charge?"
<P>
"I say it isn't true," I replied. "This man is a humbug.
He is following me for a purpose, and is trying to get me into trouble."
<P>
"Ridiculous!" cried my accuser. "Why, I never heard of
such a thing before!"
<P>
"That story won't wash," said the officer to me. "Do you
make a charge?" he continued to Mr. Allen Price.
<P>
My accuser hesitated. "I will, if it is not necessary
for me to go along," he said. "I am pressed for time. My name is Sylvester
Manners. I am a partner in the Manners Clothing Company. You know the firm,
I presume."
<P>
"Oh, yes, sir," replied the officer. He knew the Manners
Clothing Company to be a rich concern.
<P>
"I will stop at the station house to-morrow morning and
make a complaint," continued Mr. Allen Price. "Don't let the young rascal
escape."
<P>
"No fear, sir. Come on!" the last to me.
<P>
"I've done no wrong. I want that man arrested!" I cried.
"He is no more a merchant here in Chicago than I am. He&#151;"
<P>
But the officer would not listen. He took a strong hold
upon my collar and began to march me off. Mr. Allen Price walked beside us
until we reached the corner.
<P>
"I will leave you here, officer," he said. "I'll be down
in the morning, sure. As for you," he continued to me, "I trust you will
soon see the error of your ways and try to mend them, and&#151;" he continued
in a whisper, as the officer's attention was distracted for a moment, "never
try to outwit John Stumpy again!"
<h3>CHAPTER XXV</h3>
<h4>AN EXCITING ADVENTURE</h4>
<P>
Mr. Allen Price and John Stumpy were one and the same person!
For a moment so great was my surprise that I forgot I was under arrest, and
walked on beside the officer without a protest.
<P>
Now that I knew the truth it was easy to trace the
resemblance, and I blamed myself greatly for not having discovered it when
we first met.
<P>
Of a certainty the man was bent upon frustrating my plans,
partly for his own safety, and more so upon Mr. Aaron Woodward's account.
No doubt the merchant was paying him well for his work, and John Stumpy intended
to do all he could to crush me.
<P>
But I was not to be crushed. The forces brought against
me only made my will stronger to go ahead. It was do or die, and that was
all there was to it.
<P>
I could easily understand why John Stumpy wished to obtain
possession of my handbag. In it he hoped to find the papers Mr. Woodward
had lost and Nicholas Weaver's confession. I could not help but smile at
the thought that, notwithstanding all I had said to the contrary, the two
plotters still believed I had the lost documents.
<P>
One thing perplexed me. Why was my visit to Chris Holtzmann
considered of such importance that every possible means was taken to prevent
it? Did this man possess the entire key to the situation? And were they afraid
he could be bought up or threatened into a confession? It looked so.
<P>
"You are not from Chicago, young fellow?" said the policeman
who had me in charge.
<P>
"No; I'm from the East."
<P>
"Humph! Got taken in short, didn't you?"
<P>
"I'm not guilty of any crime," I returned, "and you'll
find it out when it comes to the examination."
<P>
"I'll chance it," replied the officer, grimly.
<P>
"That man is a fraud. If you call on the Manners Clothing
Company, you will find it so."
<P>
"That's not part of my duty. I'll take you to the station
house, and you can tell the judge your story," replied the policeman.
<P>
Yet I could see by the way his brow contracted that my
assertion had had its effect upon him. Probably had he given the matter proper
thought in the first place, he would have compelled John Stumpy to accompany
him.
<P>
Still, this did me no good. Here I was being taken to
the jail while the man who should have been under arrest was free. I would
probably have to remain in confinement until the following morning, and in
the meantime John Stumpy could call on Chris Holtzmann and arrange plans
to suit himself.
<P>
This would never do, as it would defeat the whole object
of my trip West, and send me home to be laughed at by Mr. Aaron Woodward
and Duncan.
<P>
"Can I ask for an examination at once?" I inquired.
<P>
"Maybe; if the judge is there."
<P>
"And if he isn't?"
<P>
"You'll have to wait till to-morrow morning. You see it
isn't&#151; Hello! thunder and lightning! what's that?"
<P>
As the officer uttered the exclamation there was a wild
cry on the streets, and the next instant the crowds of people scattered in
every direction.
<P>
And no wonder, for down the pavement came an infuriated
bull, charging everybody and everything before him.
<P>
The animal had evidently broken away from a herd that
was being driven to the stock-yards, and his nose, where the ring was fastened,
was torn and covered with blood, and he breathed hard, as if he had run a
great distance.
<P>
"It's a mad bull!" I cried. "Take care, or he'll horn
both of us!"
<P>
My words of caution were unnecessary, for no sooner had
the bull turned in our direction than the officer let go his hold upon me
and fled into a doorway near at hand.
<P>
For an instant I was on the point of following him. Then
came the sudden thought that now would be a good chance to escape.
<P>
To think was to act. No sooner had the policeman jumped
into the doorway than I dodged through the crowd and hurried across the street.
Reaching the opposite side, I ran into an alley. It was long and led directly
into the back garden of a handsome stone mansion.
<P>
The garden was filled with beautiful flowers and plants,
and in the centre a tiny fountain sent a thin spray into the air. At one
side, under a small arbor, stood a garden bench, and on this sat a little
girl playing with a number of dolls.
<P>
Her golden hair hung heavy over her shoulders, and she
looked supremely happy. She greeted my entrance with a smile, and took me
at once into her confidence.
<P>
"This is my new dolly," she explained, holding the article
up.
<P>
"Is it?" I asked, hardly knowing what to say.
<P>
"Yes; papa bringed it home yesterday. Does oo like dollies?"
<P>
"Oh, yes, nice ones like that. You must have lots of fun.
I&#151;"
<P>
I did not finish the sentence. There was a noise in the
alley, and the next instant the mad bull came crashing into the garden!
<P>
For a second I was too surprised to move or speak. The
little girl uttered a piercing scream, and gathering her dolls in her arms
huddled into a corner of the bench.
<P>
Why the animal had followed so closely behind me I could
not tell, but once in the garden, it was plain to see he was bent upon doing
considerable damage. He was more enraged than ever, and scattered the sodding
about in every direction.
<P>
At first some red flowers attracted his attention, and
he charged upon these with a fury that wrecked the entire flower-bed in which
they were standing.
<P>
While the bull was at this work I partly recovered my
senses, and then the first thought that came to my mind was the necessity
of getting the little girl to a place of safety. Let the bull once get at
her, and her life might pay the penalty. I was not many feet away from the
little miss, and a few bounds took me to her side.
<P>
"Come, let me take you into the house," I said, and picked
her up.
<P>
She made no reply, but continued to scream and clung to
me with all the strength of her little arms.
<P>
There was a back piazza to the mansion five or six steps high. I knew that
if we once reached this we would be safe, for no matter what the bull might
do, he could not climb.
<P>
"Oh, Millie, my child!" came s voice from the house, and
I saw a lady at one of the windows. "Oh, save her! Bring her here!" she cried,
as she caught sight of the bull.
<P>
I uttered no reply, but sprang toward the steps.
<P>
But though I wasted no time, the bull was too quick for
me. Springing over the flower-bed, he planted himself directly in my path.
<P>
It made my blood run cold to have him face me with that
vicious look and those glaring eyes. One prod of those horns and all would
be over.
<P>
"Oh, save Millie! Save my child!" The lady had opened
the door and now came running out upon the piazza.
<P>
"I will if I can!" I returned. "Don't come down here.
He'll tear you all to pieces!"
<P>
Even as I spoke the bull made a plunge for me. I darted
to one side and sprang over to the edge of the piazza corner.
<P>
"Give her to me! Hand her up!" exclaimed the lady, as
she rushed over, and as I held the little one on my shoulder, the lady drew
her up and clasped the child, dolls and all, to her breast.
<P>
Hardly had I got rid of my charge than the bull came for
me again. The trick I had played on him only served to increase his rage,
and he snorted loudly.
<P>
I was in a bad fix. Between the piazza and the next-door
fence was a distance of but ten feet, and behind me was the solid stone wall
of the house. Escape on any side was impossible. Had I had time I might have
climbed up to the piazza, but now this was not to be thought of, and another
means of getting out of danger must be instantly devised.
<P>
"Oh, he will be killed!" cried the lady, in horror. "Help!
help!"
<P>
I glanced around for some weapon with which to defend
myself. I had nothing with me. Even my valise lay at the other end of the
garden, where I had dropped it when the animal first made his appearance.
<P>
As I said, I looked around, and behind me found a heavy
spade the gardener had at one time or another used for digging post holes.
It was a strong and sharp implement, and I took it up with a good deal of
satisfaction.
<P>
The bull charged on me with fury. As he did so, I took
the spade and held it on a level with my waist, resting the butt end on the
wall behind me.
<P>
The next instant there was a terrific crash that made
me sick from head to foot. With all his force the bull had sprung forward,
only to receive the sharp end of the spade straight between his eyes.
<P>
The blow was as if it had been delivered by an axe. It
made a frightful cut, and the blood rushed forth in a torrent.
<P>
With a mad cry of pain the bull backed out. At first I
thought he was going to charge me again, but evidently the blow was too much
for him, for with several moans he turned, and with his head hanging down,
he staggered across the garden to the alley and disappeared.
<h3>CHAPTER XXVI</h3>
<h4>SAMMY SIMPSON</h4>
<P>
I gave a sigh of relief when the
bull was gone. The encounter with the mad animal had been no laughing matter.
I had once heard of a man being gored to death by just such an infuriated
creature, and I considered that I had had a narrow escape. I put my hand
to my forehead and found the cold sweat standing out upon it. Taking my
handkerchief, I mopped it away.
<P>
"Are you hurt?" inquired the lady, with great solicitation.
<P>
"No, ma'am," I replied. "But it was a close shave!"
<P>
"Indeed it was. And you saved my Millie's life! How can
I thank you!"
<P>
"I didn't do so much. I guess she's scared a good bit."
<P>
"She hardly realized the danger, dear child. Did you,
Millie, my pet?"
<P>
"The bad cow wanted to eat up my dollies!" exclaimed the
little miss, with a grave shake of the head. "But oo helped me," she added,
to me.
<P>
"I'm glad I was here," I returned.
<P>
"May I ask how you happened to come in?" continued the
lady.
<P>
In a few words I told my story. I had hardly finished
when the back door opened and a gentleman stepped out.
<P>
"What is the trouble here?" he asked anxiously. "I just
heard that a mad bull had run into the garden."
<P>
"So he did, James; a savage monster indeed. This young
man just beat him off and saved Millie's life."
<P>
"Hardly that," I put in modestly. I did not want more
praise than I was justly entitled to receive.
<P>
"Indeed, but he did. See the spade covered with blood?
Had he not hit the animal over the head with that, something dreadful would
have happened."
<P>
"I didn't hit him exactly," I laughed. "I held it up and
he ran against it," and once more I told my story.
<P>
"You have done us a great service, young man," said the
gentleman when I had concluded. "I was once in the butcher business myself,&#151; in
fact, I am in it yet, but only in the export trade,&#151; and I know full well
how dangerous bulls can get. Had it not been for you my little girl might
have been torn to pieces. One of her dolls is dressed in red, and this would
have attracted the bull's immediate attention. I thank you deeply." He grasped
my hand warmly. "May I ask your name?"
<P>
"Roger Strong, sir."
<P>
"My name is Harrison&#151; James Harrison. You live here in
Chicago, I suppose?"
<P>
"No, sir, I come from Darbyville, New Jersey."
<P>
"Darbyville?" He thought a moment. "I never heard of such
a town."
<P>
"It is only a small place several miles from New York.
I came to Chicago on business. I arrived about half an hour ago."
<P>
"Really? Your introduction into our city has been rather
an exciting one."
<P>
"I've had other adventures fully as exciting in the past
few days," I returned.
<P>
"Yes?" and Mr. Harrison eyed me curiously.
<P>
"Yes. Our train was delayed, I almost had my handbag stolen,
and I've been arrested as a thief."
<P>
"And all in a half an hour?" The gentleman and his wife
both looked incredulous.
<P>
"No, sir; since I've left home."
<P>
"I should like to hear your story&#151; that is, if you care
to tell it."
<P>
"I will tell you the whole thing if you care to listen,"
I returned, reflecting that my newly made friend might give me some material
assistance in my quest.
<P>
"Then come into the house."
<P>
"I'd better shut the alley gate first," said I, and running
down I did so, and picked up my handbag as well.
<P>
Mr. Harrison led the way inside. I could not help but
note the rich furnishings of the place&#151; the soft carpets, artistically papered
walls, the costly pictures and bric-a-brac, all telling of wealth.
<P>
Mrs. Harrison and the little girl had disappeared up the
stairs. Mr. Harrison ushered me into his library and motioned me to a seat.
<P>
I hardly knew how to begin my story. To show how John
Stumpy had had me arrested, it would be necessary to go back to affairs at
Darbyville, and this I hesitated about doing.
<P>
"If you have time I would like to tell you about my affairs
before I started to come to Chicago," I said. "I would like your advice."
<P>
The gentleman looked at the clock resting upon the mantel
shelf.
<P>
"I have an engagement at eleven o'clock," he returned.
"Until then I am entirely at your service, and will be in the afternoon if
you desire it. I'll promise to give you the best advice I can."
<P>
"Thank you. I am a stranger here, and most people won't
pay much attention to a boy," I replied.
<P>
Then I told my story in full just as I have written it
here. Mr. Harrison was deeply interested.
<P>
"It is a strange case," he said, when I had concluded.
"These men must be thorough rascals, every one of them. Of course it yet
remains to be seen what this Chris Holtzmann has to do with the affair. He
may be made to give evidence for or against your father just as he is approached.
I think I would be careful at the first meeting."
<P>
"I did not intend to let him know who I was."
<P>
"A good plan."
<P>
"But now if I venture on the street I may be arrested,"
I went on.
<P>
"It is not likely. Chicago is a big city, and unless the
officer who arrested you before meets you, it is improbable that he can give
an accurate enough description of you for others to identify you. Then again,
having failed in his duty, he may not report the case at all."
<P>
"That's so; but if I do run across him&#151;"
<P>
"Then send for me. Here is my card. If I can be of service
to you, I shall be glad."
<P>
Mr. Harrison gave me minute directions how to reach
Holtzmann's place. Then it was time for him to go, and we left the house
together. I promised to call on him again before quitting Chicago.
<P>
It was with a lighter heart that I went on my way. In
some manner I felt that I had at least one friend in the big city, to whom
I could turn for advice and assistance.
<P>
Guided by the directions Mr. Harrison had given me, I
had no difficulty in making my way in the direction of Chris Holtzmann's
place of business or house, whatever it might prove to be.
<P>
As I passed up one street and down another, I could not
help but look about me with great curiosity. If Chicago was not New York,
it was "next door" to it, and I could have easily spent the entire day in
sightseeing.
<P>
But though my eyes were taking in all that was to be seen,
my mind was busy speculating upon the future. What would Chris Holtzmann
think of my visit, and what would be the result of our interview?
<P>
At length I turned down the street upon which his place
was located. It was a wide and busy thoroughfare, lined with shops of all
kinds. Saloons were numerous, and from several of them came the sounds of
lively music.
<P>
"Can you tell me where Chris Holtzmann's place is?" I
asked of a man on the corner.
<P>
"Holtzmann's? Sure! Down on the next corner."
<P>
"Thank you."
<P>
"Variety actor?" went on the man, curiously.
<P>
"Oh, no!" I laughed.
<P>
"Thought not. They're generally pretty tough&#151; the ones
Chris hires."
<P>
"Does he have a variety theatre?"
<P>
"That's what he calls it. But it's nothing but a concert
hall with jugglers and tumblers thrown in."
<P>
I did not relish the idea of going into such a place,
and I knew that my sister Kate and the Widow Canby would be horrified when
they heard of it.
<P>
"What kind of a man is this Holtzmann?" I continued, seeing
that the man I had accosted was inclined to talk.
<P>
"Oh, he's a good enough kind of a fellow if you know how
to take him," was the reply. "He's a bit cranky if he's had a glass too much,
but that don't happen often."
<P>
"Does he run the place himself?"
<P>
"What, tend bar and so?"
<P>
"Yes."
<P>
"Oh, no; he's too high-toned for that. He only bosses
things. They say he's rich. Be came from the East some years ago with quite
a little money, and he's been adding to it ever since."
<P>
"Then you know him quite well?"
<P>
"Worked for him two years. Then he up one day and declared
I was robbing him. We had a big row, and I got out."
<P>
"Did he have you arrested?"
<P>
"Arrested? Not much. He knew better than to try such a
game on me. When I was in his employ I kept my eyes and ears open, and I
knew too much about his private affairs for him to push me, even if I had
been guilty. Oh, Sammy Simpson knows a thing or two."
<P>
"That is your name?"
<P>
"Yes; Samuel A. Simpson. Generally called Sammy for short.
I was his bookkeeper and corresponding clerk."
<P>
"Maybe you're just the man I want to see," I said. "Do
you know anything about Mr. Holtzmann's private affairs in the East?"
<P>
"In Brooklyn?"
<P>
"Yes."
<P>
Sammy Simpson hesitated for a moment.
<P>
"Maybe I do," he replied, with a shrewd look in his eyes.
"Is there anything to be made out of it?"
<P>
"I will pay you for whatever you do for me."
<P>
"Then I'm your huckleberry. Who are you and what do you
want to know?"
<h3>CHAPTER XXVII</h3>
<h4>THE PALACE OF PLEASURE</h4>
<P>
Mr. Sammy Simpson was a character. He was tall and slim, certainly
not less than fifty years of age, but with an evident desire to appear much
younger. His face was cleanly shaven, and when he removed his hat to scratch
his head I saw that he was nearly bald.
<P>
He was dressed in a light check suit and wore patent-leather
shoes. I put him down as a dandy, but fond of drink, and that he proved to
be.
<P>
"Whom do you work for now?" I asked.
<P>
"No one. To tell the truth, I'm down on my luck and I'm
waiting for something to turn up."
<P>
"You say you worked for Holtzmann two years ago?"
<P>
"No, I said I worked for him two years. I only left last
month."
<P>
"And he accused you of stealing?"
<P>
"Yes; but it was only to get rid of me because I knew
too much of his private affairs."
<P>
"What do you know of his private affairs?"
<P>
Sammy Simpson rubbed his chin.
<P>
"Excuse me, but who am I talking to?" he asked abruptly.
<P>
"Never mind who I am. I am here to get all the information
I can about Chris Holtzmann, and I'm willing to pay for it. Of course I'm
not rich, but I've got a few dollars. If you can't help me I'll have to go
elsewhere."
<P>
My plain speech startled Sammy Simpson.
<P>
"Hold up; don't get mad because I asked your name. You've
a perfect right to keep it to yourself if you want to. Only make it sure
to me that I'll get paid for what I tell and it will be all right."
<P>
I was perplexed. I had half a mind to mention Mr. Harrison's
name, but if I did that, the man might expect altogether too much.
<P>
"I will promise you that you lose nothing," I said. "But
we can't talk things over in the street. Tell me where I can meet you later
on."
<P>
"Want to see Holtzmann first?"
<P>
"Yes."
<P>
"You won't get anything out of him, I'll wager you that."
<P>
"I don't expect to. I want to see what kind of a man he
is."
<P>
"Well, you'll find me at 28 Hallock Street generally.
If I'm not in, you can find out there where I've gone to."
<P>
"I'll remember it. In the meantime don't speak of this
meeting to any one."
<P>
"Mum's the word," rejoined Sammy Simpson.
<P>
I went on my way deep in thought. I considered it a stroke
of luck that I had fallen in with Chris Holtzmann's former clerk. No doubt
the man knew much that would prove of value to me.
<P>
I doubted if this man was perfectly honest. I was satisfied
that the concert-hall manager had had good grounds for discharging him. But
it often "takes a rogue to catch a rogue," and I was willing to profit by
any advantage that came to hand.
<P>
At length I reached the next corner. On it stood a splendid
building of marble, having over the door in raised letters:&#151;
<P ALIGN=CENTER class=center>
CHRIS HOLTZMANN'S<BR>
PALACE OF PLEASURE.<BR>
<I>Open all the Time. Admission Free!</I>
<P>
For a moment I hesitated. Should I enter such a hole of
iniquity?
<P>
Then came the thought of my mission; how I wished to clear
the family name from the stain that rested upon it and free my father from
imprisonment, and I went in.
<P>
I do not care to describe the scene that met my eyes.
The magnificent decorations of the place were to my mind entirely out of
keeping with its character. The foulness of a subcellar would have been more
appropriate.
<P>
In the back, where a stage was located, were a number
of small tables. I sat down at one of these and had a waiter bring me a glass
of soda water.
<P>
"Is Mr. Holtzmann about?" I asked.
<P>
"Yes, sir. There he is over by the cigar counter. Shall
I call him?"
<P>
"No."
<P>
I paid for my soda and sipped it leisurely. The place
was about half full, and all attention was being paid to "Master Ardon, the
Wonderful Boy Dancer," who was doing a clog on the stage.
<P>
Mr. Chris Holtzmann was very much the style of a man I
had imagined him to be. He was short and stout, with a thick neck and a double
chin. He was loudly dressed, including several seal rings and a heavy gold
watch chain.
<P>
I calculated that he would be a hard man to approach,
and now that I was face to face with him I hardly knew how to proceed.
<P>
At first I thought to ask him for a situation of some
kind and thus get on speaking terms with him, but concluded that openness
would pay best in the end, and so, rising, I approached him.
<P>
"Mr. Holtzmann, I believe?" I began.
<P>
"Yes," he said slowly, looking me over from head to foot.
<P>
"If you please I would like to have a talk with you,"
I went on.
<P>
"What is it?" and he turned his ear toward me.
<P>
"I have come all the way from Darbyville, New Jersey,
to see you."
<P>
"What!" He started. "And what is your business with me,
sir?" he went on sharply.
<P>
"I would like to see you in private," and I glanced at
the clerk and several others who were staring at us.
<P>
"Come to my office," he returned, and led the way through
a door at one side, into a handsomely furnished apartment facing the side
street.
<P>
"Ross, you can post the letters," he said to a clerk who
was writing at a desk. "Be back in half an hour."
<P>
It was a hint that we were to be left alone, and the clerk
was not long in gathering up the letters that had been written, and leaving.
<P>
"I suppose Woodward sent you," began Chris Holtzmann,
when we were seated.
<P>
This remark nearly took away my breath. I thought he would
deny all knowledge of having ever known the merchant, and here he was mentioning
the man at the very start.
<P>
I hardly knew how to reply, and he continued:&#151;
<P>
"I've been expecting him for several days."
<P>
"Well, you know there was an accident on the railroad,"
I began as coolly as I could. "The bridge shifted and the trains couldn't
run."
<P>
"Yes, I heard of that." He paused for a moment. "What
brought you?"
<P>
This was a home question. I plunged in like a swimmer
into a deep stream.
<P>
"I came to get the papers relating to the Strong forgeries.
You have all of them, I suppose."
<P>
I was surprised at my own boldness. So was my listener.
<P>
"Sh! not so loud," he exclaimed. "Who said I had the papers?"
<P>
"John Stumpy spoke about them to Mr. Woodward."
<P>
"He did, eh?" sneered Chris Holtzmann. "He had better
keep his mouth shut. How does he know but what the papers were destroyed
long ago?"
<P>
"I hope not," I replied earnestly.
<P>
"What does Woodward want of the papers?"
<P>
"I don't know exactly. The Strong family are going to
have the case opened again, and he's afraid they may be dragged in."
<P>
"No one knows I have them but him, Stumpy&#151; and you." He
gave me a suspicious glance. "Who are&#151;"
<P>
"The Strongs know," I put in hastily, thus cutting him
off.
<P>
"What!" He jumped up from his chair. "Who was fool enough
to tell them?"
<P>
"Nicholas Weaver left a dying statement&#151;"
<P>
"The idiot! I always said he was a weak-minded fool!"
cried Chris Holtzmann. "Who has this statement?"
<P>
"I don't know where it is now, but Carson Strong's son
had it."
<P>
"Strong's son! Great Scott! Then Woodward's goose is cooked.
I always told him he hadn't covered up his tracks."
<P>
"Yes, but he paid you pretty well for your share of the
work," I returned. I was getting mixed. The deception could not be kept up
much longer, and I wondered what would happen when the truth became known.
<P>
"Didn't pay me half of what I should have got. I helped
him not only in Brooklyn, but here in Chicago as well. How would he have
accounted for all his money if I hadn't had a rich aunt die and leave it
to him?" Chris Holtzmann gave a short laugh. "I reckon that was a neat plan
of mine."
<P>
"You ran a big risk."
<P>
"So we did&#151; but it paid."
<P>
"And John Stumpy helped, too."
<P>
"He did in a way. But he drank too much to be of any great
use. By the way, do you drink?"
<P>
As Holtzmann spoke he opened a closet at one side of the
room, behind a screen, and brought forth a bottle of liquor and a pair of
glasses.
<P>
"No, thank you," I replied.
<P>
"No? Have a cigar, then."
<P>
"Thank you; I don't smoke."
<P>
"What! Don't smoke or drink! That's queer. Wish I could
say the same. Mighty expensive habits. What did you say your name was?"
<P>
At this instant there was a knock on the door, and Chris
Holtzmann walked back of the screen and opened it.
<P>
"A man to see you, sir," I heard a voice say.
<P>
"Who is it?" asked Chris Holtzmann.
<P>
"Says his name is Aaron Woodward."
<h3>CHAPTER XXVIII</h3>
<h4>A DEAL FOR A THOUSAND DOLLARS</h4>
<P>
I was thunderstruck by the announcement
that Mr. Aaron Woodward was waiting to come in. Had it been John Stumpy who
was announced, I would not have been so much surprised. But Aaron Woodward!
The chase after me was indeed getting hot.
<P>
Evidently the merchant was not satisfied to leave affairs
in Chicago entirely in his confederate's hands. Either he did not trust Stumpy
or else the matter was of too much importance.
<P>
I did not give these thoughts close attention at the time,
but revolved them in my mind later. Just now I was trying to resolve what
was best to do. Would it be advisable for me to remain or had I better get
out?
<P>
To retire precipitately might not be "good form," but
it might save me a deal of trouble. I had had one "round" with the merchant
in his mansion in Darbyville, and I was not particularly anxious for another
encounter. I was but a boy, and between the two men they might carry "too
many guns" for me.
<P>
I looked around for some immediate means of escape. As
I have said, the office was located on the side street. Directly in front
of the desk was a large window, opened to let in the fresh morning air. For
me to think was to act. In less than a minute I was seated on the desk with
my legs dangling over the window sill.
<P>
"Aaron Woodward!" repeated Chris Holtzmann, in evident
surprise.
<P>
"Yes, sir, and he says he must see you at once."
<P>
"Did you hear that?" called out Holtzmann to me.
<P>
"Yes, I did," I returned as coolly as I could.
<P>
"Did you expect him?"
<P>
"No."
<P>
"Humph!"
<P>
Holtzmann made a movement as if to step into view, and
I prepared to vanish from the scene. But he changed his mind and walked from
the office.
<P>
I was in a quandary. To remain would place me in great
peril, yet I was anxious to know the result of the meeting between the two
men. They were the prime movers in my father's downfall, and nothing must
be left undone to bring them to justice.
<P>
I resolved to remain, even if it were at the peril of
my life. I was not an over-brave boy, but the thought of my father languishing
in prison because of these men's misdeeds, nerved me to stay.
<P>
The closet door was still open, and that gave me a sudden
idea.
<P>
As I jumped from the desk another idea struck me, and
without any hesitation I scattered the papers on the floor and upset the
ink-well.
<P>
Then I squeezed myself into the closet, crouching down
into one corner, behind several canes and umbrellas.
<P>
I was not an instant too soon, for hardly had I settled
myself than the door opened, and Chris Holtzmann reentered, followed by Mr.
Aaron Woodward.
<P>
Both men were highly excited, and both uttered an exclamation
when they saw the room was empty.
<P>
"He's gone!" cried Holtzmann.
<P>
"Gone?" repeated the merchant. "Get out, Holtzmann! He
was never here."
<P>
"I say he was, less than two minutes ago."
<P>
"Well, where is he now?"
<P>
"I don't know. Ha! I see it! He has jumped through the
windows. See how he has upset the ink and scattered the papers. It's as clear
as day."
<P>
"Can you see anything of him outside?"
<P>
Chris Holtzmann leaned out of the window.
<P>
"No; he's up and around the corner long ago."
<P>
"We must catch the rascal," went on Mr. Woodward, in a
high voice. "He knows too much; he will ruin us both."
<P>
"Ruin us both?" sneered the proprietor of the Palace of
Pleasure. "I don't see how he can ruin me."
<P>
"You're in it just as deep as I am&#151; just as deep."
<P>
"Not a bit of it," returned Holtzmann, with spirit. "You
are the only one who profited by the whole transaction, and you are the one
to take the blame."
<P>
"See here, Chris, you're not going back on me in this
way," exclaimed the merchant, in a tone of reproach.
<P>
"I'm not going back on you at all, Woody. But you can't
use me as you used John Stumpy. It won't go down."
<P>
"Now don't get excited, Chris."
<P>
"I'm not excited. But I know a thing or two just as well
as you do. If there is any exposure to take place, you must stand the brunt
of it. You were a fool to let the boy get ahead of you."
<P>
"I didn't; it was Stumpy. He let the boy get hold of Nick
Weaver's statement, and that started the thing. Then the boy stole some of
my papers that were in my desk, and how much information he has now I don't
know."
<P>
"All your own fault," responded Holtzmann, coolly. "Why
don't you destroy all the evidence on hand?"
<P>
"Do you do that?" asked Mr. Woodward, furiously.
<P>
"I do when I think it isn't going to do me any more good,"
replied Holtzmann, evasively.
<P>
"Have you destroyed all the evidence in this matter?"
<P>
Holtzmann closed one eye. "I'm not so green as you take
me to be," he replied impressively. "All my evidence against you is locked
up in my safe."
<P>
"You intend to use it against me?" said the merchant.
<P>
"Only if it becomes necessary."
<P>
"And yet you pretend to be a friend of mine."
<P>
"I was until you cheated me out of my fair share of the
spoils. But I am satisfied, and willing to let the whole matter rest."
<P>
"What will you take for the papers you hold?"
<P>
"Wouldn't sell them at any price. I'm not running my head
into any trap."
<P>
"It will be all right."
<P>
"Maybe it will, but I'll run no risk," He paused a moment.
"I'll tell you what I will do. Give me a thousand dollars and I'll let you
see me burn them up.
<P>
I was intensely surprised at this proposition, more so,
I believe, than was Mr. Woodward.
<P>
"A thousand dollars!" he exclaimed. "Chris, you're crazy."
<P>
"No, indeed. I know a thing or two. What do you suppose
the Strongs would pay for them?"
<P>
"You don't mean to say you would play me false?" ejaculated
the merchant, hoarsely.
<P>
"I mean to say I'd do anything to save myself if you got
us into a hole. As far as I can see, you have allowed this boy to get the
best of you at every turn."
<P>
"Humph! You needn't talk. You let him walk right into
your confidence the first thing."
<P>
"Only when he told me all about your affairs."
<P>
"Well, let that drop. Can't you let me have the papers
cheaper?"
<P>
"I said I wouldn't let you have the papers at all. I'll
burn them up."
<P>
"Will you let me see them?"
<P>
Chris Holtzmann's brow contracted.
<P>
"What for?"
<P>
"Oh, I only want to make sure of what you've got.
<P>
"Will you pay the price?"
<P>
"Make them cheaper."
<P>
"No."
<P>
"I'll take them."
<P>
"You mean have them burnt up."
<P>
"Yes. But I must examine them first."
<P>
"I'm willing. And I must have my check before they go
into the fire."
<P>
"You are very suspicious, Chris, very suspicious."
<P>
"No more so than you, Woody. I wasn't born yesterday."
<P>
"Well, let's have the papers and I'll write out the check.
But it must be understood that you give no more information to the boy."
<P>
"Give him information!" cried Holtzmann. "Let him show
his face here again and I'll break every bone in his body," he added grimly.
<P>
This was certainly an interesting bit of news. I made
up my mind that to be seen would render matters decidedly warm for me.
<P>
But I was even more interested over the fact that the
two men intended to burn up part of the evidence that might clear my father's
name. Such a thing must not happen. I must use every means in my power to
prevent it.
<P>
Yet what was to be done? If the documents were produced
at once, how could I save them from destruction?
<P>
A bold dash for them seemed the only way. Once snatched
from Holtzmann's or Aaron Woodward's hands, and escape through the window
or the door would be difficult, but not impossible.
<P>
Yet while I was revolving these thoughts over in my mind
the same thing evidently suggested itself to the proprietor of the Palace
of Pleasure.
<P>
"Wait till I lock the door," he said. "We don't want to
be interrupted."
<P>
"No indeed," returned Mr. Woodward; "interruptions don't
pay."
<P>
"And I'll close the window, too," went on Holtzmann; "it's
cool enough without having it open."
<P>
"So it is."
<P>
So the window and the door were both closed and fastened.
I was chagrined, but could do nothing.
<P>
A moment later I heard Chris Holtzmann at his safe, and
then the rattle of something on his desk.
<P>
"The papers are in this tin box," he said. "I placed them
there over six months ago."
<P>
He opened the box, and I heard a rustling of documents.
<P>
"Why&#151; why&#151; what does this mean!" he ejaculated. "They
are not here!"
<P>
"What!" cried Mr. Aaron Woodward, aghast.
<P>
"The papers are not here!" Holtzmann hurried over to his
safe and began a hasty search. "As sure as you're born, Woody, they have
been stolen!"
<P>
"It's that boy," exclaimed the merchant. "He's a wizard
of a sly one. He has stolen them, and we are lost!"
<h3>CHAPTER XXIX</h3>
<h4>THE PRECIOUS PAPERS</h4>
<P>
I was not as much surprised over
the situation as were the two men. I could put two and two together as quickly
as any one, and I knew exactly where the papers were to be found.
<P>
Sammy Simpson, of 28 Hallock Street, was the thief. He
had intimated that he had evidence against Chris Holtzmann, and these papers
were that evidence.
<P>
This being so, there was no further use for my remaining
in my cramped position in the closet, and I longed for a chance for escape.
It was not long in coming.
<P>
"I don't see how that boy managed it," said Holtzmann.
"He was alone only a few minutes."
<P>
"Never mind. He's as smart as a steel trap. Was the safe
door open?"
<P>
"Yes. My clerk left it open. He is a new one and rather
careless. What's to be done?"
<P>
"I'm going after the rascal," cried Aaron Woodward.
<P>
"You'd have a fine time finding him here in Chicago."
<P>
"I must find him. Most likely when he discovers how valuable
the papers are he'll be off at once for home with them. I can intercept him
at the depot."
<P>
"That's an idea, if you can locate the right depot."
<P>
"I'll be off at once," went on Mr. Woodward.
<P>
"I'll go with you," returned Chris Holtzmann, and three
minutes later the two men quitted the office, locking the door after them.
<P>
I waited several minutes to make sure they were not returning,
and then emerged from my hiding-place.
<P>
I was stiff in every joint and nearly stifled from the
hot air in the closet. But at present I gave these personal matters scant
attention, my mind being bent upon escape.
<P>
Even if the door had been unlocked, I would not have chosen
it as a means of egress. It led into the main hall of the Palace of Pleasure,
and here I might meet some one to bar my escape.
<P>
The window was close at hand, and I threw it open. The
noise I made did not frighten me, for in the main hall a loud orchestra was
drowning out every other sound.
<P>
I looked out and saw a number of people walking up and
down the street. No one appeared to be watching me, and waiting a favorable
opportunity, I slid out of the window to the sidewalk below.
<P>
With my ever present handbag beside me I hurried down
the side street as fast as my feet would carry me. The neighborhood of the
Palace of Pleasure was dangerous for me, and I wished to get away from it
as quickly as possible.
<P>
After travelling several blocks I slackened my pace and
dropped into a rapid walk. Coming to a fruit-stand, I invested in a couple
of bananas, and then asked its proprietor where Hallock Street was.
<P>
"Sure an' it's the first street beyant the cable road,"
was the reply.
<P>
"And where is the cable road?" I queried.
<P>
"Two squares that way, sor," and the woman pointed it
out.
<P>
I thanked her and hurried on. When I reached the street,
I found the numbers ran in the three hundreds, and I had quite a walk to
the southward to reach No. 28.
<P>
At length I stood in front of the house. It was a
common-looking affair, and the vicinity was not one to be chosen by fastidious
people. The street, sidewalks, and doorways all looked dirty and neglected.
I concluded that since being discharged Sammy Simpson had come down in the
world.
<P>
"Does Mr. Simpson live here?" I asked of a slip of a girl
who sat on the stoop, nursing a ragged doll.
<P>
"Yes, sir; on the third floor in the front," she replied.
<P>
I climbed up the creaky stairs two flights, and rapped
on the door.
<P>
"Come," said a voice, and I entered. The room was the
barest kind of a kitchen. By the open window sat a thin, pale woman, holding
a child.
<P>
"Does Mr. Samuel Simpson live here?" I asked.
<P>
"Yes, sir, but he's not in now," she returned. "Can I
do anything for you?"
<P>
"I guess not."
<P>
"I hope&#151; I hope there is nothing wrong," she went on
falteringly.
<P>
"Wrong?" I queried. I did not quite understand her.
<P>
"Yes, sir."
<P>
"Not exactly. What makes you think so?"
<P>
"Because he drinks so," she replied.
<P>
"I wish to get some information from him; that is all,"
I returned.
<P>
As I concluded a heavy step sounded in the hall, and an
instant later Sammy Simpson appeared. He had evidently been imbibing freely,
for his voice was thick and his sentences muddled.
<P>
"Hello!" he cried. "You here already, eh! What brought
you? Want to find out all about Chris Holtzmann?"
<P>
"Yes."
<P>
"Thought so. Saw it in your eye. Yes, sir, your optic
betrayed you. Sit down. Mag, give Mr. What's-his-name a chair. I'll sit down
myself." And he sank heavily down on a low bench, threw one leg over the
other, and clasped his hands on his knee.
<P>
"I want to see those documents you took from Mr. Holtzmann's
safe," I began boldly.
<P>
He started slightly and stared at me.
<P>
"Who said I took any document out of his safe?"
<P>
"Didn't you say so? I mean the ones relating to Holtzmann's
affairs in Brooklyn."
<P>
"Well, yes, I did."
<P>
"I want to see them."
<P>
"Again I ask, what is there in it?" he exclaimed dramatically.
<P>
"If they really prove of value to me, I will pay you well
for all your trouble," I replied.
<P>
"Is that straight?" he asked thickly.
<P>
"It is," I replied, and, I may as well add, I was thoroughly
disgusted with the man.
<P>
"Then I'm yours truly, and no mistake. Excuse me till
I get them."
<P>
Be rose unsteadily and left the room. Hardly had he gone
before his wife hurried to my side.
<P>
"Oh, sir, I hope you are not getting him into trouble?"
she cried. "He is a good man when he is sober; indeed he is,"
<P>
"I am not going to harm him, madam. A great wrong has
been done, and I only want your husband to assist me in righting it. He has
papers that can do it."
<P>
"You are telling me the truth?" she questioned earnestly.
<P>
"Yes, ma'am."
<P>
"I think I can trust you," she said slowly. "You look
honest. And these papers&#151; ought you to have them?"
<P>
"Yes. If your husband does not give them up, he will certainly
get into great trouble."
<P>
"You are young, and you don't look as if you would lie.
If Sam has the papers, he shall give them to you. He's coming now."
<P>
"Here's all the evidence in the case," said Sammy Simpson,
on returning. He held a thick and long envelope. "What's the value to you?"
<P>
"I can tell better after I have examined them," I returned.
<P>
"Will you give them back if I let you see them?"
<P>
"Yes."
<P>
He handed the precious papers to me and then sat down.
<P>
Oh, how eagerly I grasped the envelope! How much of importance
it might contain for me!
<P>
There were three letters and four legal papers. Like Nicholas
Weaver's statement, all were badly written, and I had a hard job to decipher
even a portion of the manuscript.
<P>
Yet I made out enough to learn that Aaron Woodward was
the forger of the notes and checks that had sent my father to prison, and
that the death of a relative in Chicago was only a pretence. The work had
been done in Brooklyn through that branch of Holland &amp; Mack's establishment.
Chris Holtzmann had helped in the scheme, and John Stumpy had presented one
of the checks, for which service he had received six hundred dollars. This
much was clear to me. But two other points still remained dark.
<P>
One was of a certain Ferguson connected with the scheme,
who seemed to be intimate with my father. He was probably the man my father
had mentioned when we had visited him at the prison. His connection with
the affair was far from clear.
<P>
The other dark point in the case was concerning Agatha
Mitts, of 648 Vannack Avenue, Brooklyn. She was a boarding-mistress, and
the three or four men had stopped at her house. But how much she knew of
their doings I could not tell.
<P>
"Well, what do you think?" muttered Sammy Simpson. "Mighty
important, I'll be bound."
<P>
"Not so very important," I returned, as coolly as I could.
"They will be if I can get hold of other papers to use with them."
<P>
"Exactly, sir; just as I always said. Well, you can get
them easily enough, no doubt."
<P>
"I don't know about that," I said doubtfully.
<P>
"No trouble at all. Come, what will you give?"
<P>
"Five dollars."
<P>
"Ha! ha! They're worth a million." He blinked hard at
me. "Say, you're a friend of mine, a good boy. Meg, shall I give them to
him?"
<P>
"You ought to do what's right, Sam," replied his wife,
severely.
<P>
"So I ought. You're a good woman; big improvement on a
chap like me. Say, young man, give my lady ten dollars, keep the papers,
and clear out. I'm drunk, and when Sammy Simpson's drunk he's a fool."
<P>
I handed over the money without a word. Perhaps I was
taking advantage of the man's present state, but I considered I was doing
things for the best.
<P>
A minute later, with the precious papers in my pocket,
I left.
<h3>CHAPTER XXX</h3>
<h4>THE TRAIN FOR NEW YORK</h4>
<P>
Down in the street I hesitated as
to where to go next. I felt that the case on hand was getting too complicated
for me, and that I needed assistance.
<P>
I did not relish calling on the police for help. They
were probably on the watch for me, and even if not, they would deem me only
a boy, and give me scant attention.
<P>
My mind reverted to the adventure earlier in the day,
and I remembered Mr. Harrison's kind offer. I had done his little daughter
a good turn, and I was positive the gentleman would assist me to the best
of his ability.
<P>
I decided to call on him at once. I had his address still
in my pocket, and though I was quite tired, I hurried along at a rapid rate.
<P>
On the way I revolved in my mind all that had occurred
within the past two hours, and by the time I reached Mr. Harrison's place
I had the matter in such shape that I could tell a clear, straightforward
story.
<P>
I found the gentleman in, and pleased at my return.
<P>
"I was afraid you had gotten into more difficulties,"
he explained, with a smile.
<P>
"So I did but I got out of them again," I replied.
<P>
Sitting down, I gave him the particulars of my visit to
Chris Holtzmann and to Sammy Simpson, and handed over the documents for
inspection. Mr. Harrison was deeply interested, and examined the papers with
great care. It took him nearly an hour to do so, and then he plied me with
numerous questions.
<P>
"Do you know what my advice is?" he asked, at length.
<P>
"No, sir."
<P>
"I advise you to have both Holtzmann and Woodward arrested
at once. They are thorough rascals, and your father is the innocent victim
of their cupidity."
<P>
"But how can I do that? No one knows me here in Chicago."
<P>
"Hold up, you make a mistake. I know you."
<P>
"Yes, but you don't know anything about me," I began.
<P>
"I know you to be a brave fellow, and brave people are
generally honest. Besides, your face speaks for itself."
<P>
"You are very kind."
<P>
"I have not forgotten the debt I owe you, and whatever
I do for you will never fully repay it."
<P>
"And you advise me&#151;"
<P>
"To put the case in the hands of the police without delay.
Come, I will go with you. Perhaps this Holtzmann may be frightened into a
confession."
<P>
"I trust so. It will save a good deal of trouble."
<P>
"Woodward can be taken into custody as soon as the necessary
papers are made out," concluded. Mr. Harrison.
<P>
An instant later we were on the way. I wondered what had
become of John Stumpy. It was strange that he had not turned up at the Palace
of Pleasure. Perhaps Mr. Aaron Woodward had intercepted him and either scared
or bought him off.
<P>
The fellow held much evidence that I wished to obtain,
for every letter or paper against Mr. Woodward would make my father's case
so much stronger, and I determined with all my heart that when once brought
to trial there should be no failure to punish the guilty, so that the innocent
might be acquitted.
<P>
At the police station we found the sergeant in charge.
Mr. Harrison was well known in the locality, and his presence gained at once
for us a private audience.
<P>
The officer of the law gave the case his closest attention,
and asked me even more questions than had been put to me before.
<P>
"I remember reading of this affair in the court records,"
he said. "Judge Fowler and I were saying what a peculiar case it was. Chris
Holtzmann claims to keep a first-class resort, and I would hardly dare to
proceed against him were it not for these papers, and you, Mr. Harrison."
<P>
"You will arrest him at once?" questioned the gentleman.
<P>
"If you say so."
<P>
"I do, most assuredly."
<P>
"You are interested in the case?" queried the sergeant,
as he prepared to leave.
<P>
"Only on this young man's account. He saved my little
daughter from a horrible death this morning."
<P>
"Indeed? How so?"
<P>
"There was a mad bull broke into my back garden from the
street, and was about to gore her, when this young man, who had been driven
into the garden in the first place, came between and drove the bull out."
<P>
"Oh, I heard of that bull."
<P>
"What became of him?" I put in curiously.
<P>
"He was killed by a couple of officers on the next block.
He was nearly dead before they shot him, having received a terrible cut between
the eyes."
<P>
"Given by this young man," explained Mr. Harrison.
<P>
"You don't mean it!" cried the officer, in admiration.
"Phew! but you must be strong!"
<P>
"It was more by good luck than strength," I returned modestly.
<P>
"Nonsense!" said Mr. Harrison. "My wife witnessed the
whole occurrence, and she says it was pure bravery."
<P>
Five minutes later a cab was called, and we all got in.
I was not sorry to ride, for my long tramp from one place to another on the
stone pavement had made me footsore. I did not mind walking, but the Darbyville
roads were softer than those of Chicago.
<P>
It did not take long to reach the Palace of Pleasure.
<P>
"Just wait in the cab for a minute or two," said the sergeant
to me. "If he sees you first, he may make a scene."
<P>
"Most likely he's gone out," I returned.
<P>
The sergeant and Mr. Harrison left the carriage and entered
the building.
<P>
I awaited their return impatiently. Would they get their
man? And would Mr. Aaron Woodward be along?
<P>
Five&#151; ten minutes dragged slowly by. Then the two returned.
<P>
"He's not in the place, and no one knows where he has
gone," said the officer.
<P>
"He can't be far off," I replied. "No doubt he and Mr.
Woodward have gone off to look for me."
<P>
"And where?" put in Mr. Harrison. I thought a moment.
<P>
"The depot!" I exclaimed. "He spoke about looking for
me there."
<P>
"Then we'll be off at once," returned the sergeant.
<P>
As he spoke, a familiar figure came shambling around the
corner. It was Sammy Simpson.
<P>
"Hello, you!" he cried, on catching sight of me. "I want
those papers back."
<P>
"Why do you want them back?" I asked.
<P>
"You didn't pay the value of 'em, didn't pay enough,"
he hiccoughed.
<P>
"I paid all I agreed to."
<P>
"Can't say anything about that. But 'tain't enough." He
glared at me. "Holtzmann said he'd pay me a hundred dollars. Yes, sir, ten
times as much as you."
<P>
"When de you see Holtzmann?" I cried, in great interest.
<P>
"Saw him about half an hour ago. He came to see me&#151; came
to see Sammy Simpson&#151; climbed the stairs to my abode. Wanted the papers&#151; said
I must have 'em. Went wild with rage when I let slip you had 'em. So did
the other gent."
<P>
"Who? Mr. Woodward?"
<P>
"That's the identical name. Yes, sir&#151; the correct handle.
And they wanted the papers. Offered a hundred dollars for 'em. Think of it.
Here's the ten dollars&#151; give 'em back."
<P>
Had Sammy Simpson been sober he would not have made such
a simple proposition.
<P>
"No, sir," I replied decidedly. "A bargain's a bargain.
I've got the papers, and I intend to keep them."
<P>
"No, you don't."
<P>
"What's that?" broke in the sergeant of police.
<P>
"I want those papers."
<P>
"Do you know who I am?"
<P>
"No, and don't care."
<P>
"I am sergeant of police, and I want you to behave yourself,
or I'll run you in," was the decided reply.
<P>
At the mention of an officer Sammy Simpson grew pale.
<P>
"No, no, don't do that. I've never been arrested in my
life."
<P>
"The papers are in the hands of the proper parties," went
on the sergeant.
<P>
"Then I can't have 'em back?"
<P>
"No; and the less you have to do with the whole matter,
the better off you'll be. Where has Holtzmann gone?"
<P>
"To Brooklyn."
<P>
I was astonished. To Brooklyn, and so soon!
<P>
"You are sure?" I queried.
<P>
"Yes; he and the other gent intended to take the first
train."
<P>
Here was indeed news. This sudden and unexpected departure
must portend something of importance.
<P>
"We must catch them!" I exclaimed.
<P>
"Do you know anything about the trains?" asked Mr. Harrison.
<P>
"No."
<P>
"Jump in, and we'll be off to the depot," said the sergeant.
<P>
In an instant we had started, leaving Sammy Simpson standing
in the middle of the pavement too astonished to speak. It was the last I
ever saw of the man.
<P>
We made the driver urge his horse at the top of his speed.
I calculated that the pair would take the same line that had brought me to
Chicago.
<P>
I was not mistaken; for when we reached the depot a few
questions put by the sergeant revealed the fact that the two men had purchased
tickets for New York but a minute before.
<P>
"And when does the train leave?" I asked.
<P>
"Her time's up now."
<P>
At that instant a bell rang.
<P>
"There's the bell."
<P>
"We must catch her," I cried, and ran though the gate
and on to the platform.
<P>
But the train was already moving. I tried to catch her,
but failed; and a minute later the cars rolled out of sight.
<P>
Mr. Aaron Woodward and Chris Holtzmann had escaped me.
<P>
What was to be done next?
<h3>CHAPTER XXXI</h3>
<h4>IN THE METROPOLIS</h4>
<P>
I was thoroughly chagrined when I
stood on the platform and saw the train roll away. Now that I had Mr. Harrison
and the sergeant of police with me I had fondly hoped to capture the two
men, even if it was at the last minute.
<P>
But now that chance was gone, and as I turned back to
my two companions I felt utterly nonplussed.
<P>
One thing was perfectly clear in my mind. The two men
had gone to Brooklyn to see Mrs. Agatha Mitts. No doubt they thought that
now I had the papers Sammy Simpson had stolen in my possession I would follow
up the train of evidence by calling on the woman&#151; a thing I most likely would
have done. They intended to head me off, and by this means break down my
case against them at its last stage.
<P>
Yet though I was disappointed I was not disheartened.
I was fighting for honor and intended to keep on until not a single thing
remained to do. My evidence against Woodward and Holtzmann was gradually
accumulating, and sooner or later it must bring them to the bar of justice.
<P>
"Well, they're gone," I exclaimed, as I joined the others.
"That is, if they were on that train."
<P>
"We'll ask the gateman and make sure," said the sergeant.
<P>
This was done, and we soon learned that beyond a doubt
Mr. Woodward and Chris Holtzmann had been among the departed passengers.
<P>
"My work in Chicago is at an end," remarked the sergeant,
as we stood in the waiting-room discussing the situation.
<P>
"And so is mine," I replied. "I've got the papers, and
now the two men are gone, there is no use of my remaining."
<P>
"What do you intend to do?" asked Mr. Harrison.
<P>
"Follow them to Brooklyn."
<P>
"To Brooklyn? It's a good distance."
<P>
"I can't help it; I must go. As for the distance, it is
not many miles from my home."
<P>
Mr. Harrison mused for a moment.
<P>
"I have an idea of going along with you," he said at length.
<P>
"Going along with me!" I repeated, astonished by his offer.
<P>
"Yes; I intended to take a trip to New York, on special
business next week, but I can go to-day instead. You no doubt need help,
and I want to give it to you."
<P>
"You are very kind," I replied.
<P>
"I would like to see you and your family get your rights,"
he went on. "I wonder when the next train leaves."
<P>
"I'll find out at the ticket office," I replied.
<P>
I walked over to the box, and at the window learned that
the next train would not start for two hours and a half.
<P>
"That will give me time to go home, pack my valise, and
arrange my affairs," said Mr. Harrison. "Come, you can go with me, and we
can dine together."
<P>
"Thank you," was my answer.
<P>
"And you, sergeant. I will be pleased to have you, too,"
continued Mr. Harrison, turning to the officer.
<P>
"You're kind, Mr. Harrison, but duty calls me elsewhere.
I'll have to return to the station. But you've forgotten one thing."
<P>
"What?"
<P>
"That you can telegraph to New York and have the two men
arrested as soon as they arrive."
<P>
"That's so! What do you say, Strong?"
<P>
I thought for a moment. It would be the simplest way to
do, but would it be the best?
<P>
"Don't you think we had better let them go ahead?" I returned.
"We know exactly where they are going, and by following them up may gain
some additional information."
<P>
"I don't know but what you are right," replied Mr. Harrison.
<P>
"Then, in that case, my duty here is at an end," said
the sergeant.
<P>
"I'm very much obliged for the trouble you've taken. Are
there any charges to pay?"
<P>
"None at all. Good day. Hope you will meet with success
in the future."
<P>
"Thank you. If we do, I'll write you."
<P>
"Now we'll jump into a cab at once," said Mr. Harrison,
when we were alone.
<P>
A minute later we were whirling along in the direction
of his mansion.
<P>
"I hope you are not taking too much trouble on my account,"
I observed.
<P>
"I don't consider it too much," he replied. "Even if I
had no business of my own to call me to New York I would go along if I thought
I would be of service to you. You saved my little girl's life, and that debt,
as I have told you before, I can never repay you."
<P>
We soon reached Mr. Harrison's mansion. Of course Mrs.
Harrison was surprised at her husband's sudden determination, but when the
situation was explained to her, she urged him to do his best for me.
<P>
The dinner served was the most elegant I had ever eaten,
and despite the excited state of mind I was in, I did ample justice to it.
Little Millie was present, and during the progress of the meal we became
great friends.
<P>
But all good things must come to an end, and an hour later,
each with his handbag, we entered the cab and were off.
<P>
On the way we stopped at Mr. Harrison's office, where
that gentleman left directions concerning things to be done during his absence.
Evidently he was a thorough business man, and I could not help but wonder
what he was worth when I saw him place several hundred dollars in bills in
his pocketbook.
<P>
Arriving at the depot, we found we had just five minutes
to spare. This Mr. Harrison spent in the purchase of a ticket for himself&#151; I
had mine&#151; and in getting parlor-car seats for both of us.
<P>
It was a novelty to me to have such a soft chair to sit
in, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
<P>
As we rode along, my kind friend questioned me closely
about myself, and I ended by giving him my entire history.
<P>
"You've had rather a hard row to hoe, and no mistake,"
he said. "It is a dreadful thing to have one's family honor assailed. Many
a man has broken down completely under it."
<P>
"It is so with my father," I replied. "He used to be as
bright as any one, but now he doesn't have much hope of any kind left."
<P>
In the evening another surprise awaited me. Instead of
remaining in the comfortable chair, Mr. Harrison bade me follow him to the
sleeping-car, and I was assigned as soft a bed as I had ever occupied. I
slept "like a top," resolved to get the full value of so elegant an
accommodation. When I awoke, it was broad daylight.
<P>
I climbed down from my bed and made my toilet leisurely.
When I had finished, Mr. Harrison appeared, and together we had breakfast,
and, five hours later, dinner.
<P>
It was six o'clock in the evening when we rolled into
the station at Jersey City, and alighted. I was a little stiff from the long
ride, but not near as much so as I would have been had I travelled in the
ordinary cars.
<P>
"We'll cross the ferry at once," said Mr. Harrison. "The
sooner we get to New York, the better."
<P>
"And the sooner we get to Brooklyn, the better," I added.
"Do you think it will be advisable for me to hunt up Mrs. Agatha Mitts to-night?"
<P>
"I think it would. Even if you don't call on her, you
can find out about her and see how the land lies. We will find a hotel to
stop at first."
<P>
We were soon in New York and on our way up Broadway. Opposite
the post-office we found an elegant hotel, where Mr. Harrison hired a room
for himself.
<P>
He insisted on my having supper with him. Then leaving
our handbags in his room, we started for the Fulton Street ferry to Brooklyn.
<P>
It was now growing dark, and the streets were filled with
people hurrying homeward. I tried to keep as close to Mr. Harrison as possible,
but something in a window attracted my attention, and when I looked around
he was gone.
<P>
I supposed he had gone on ahead and hurried to catch him.
But in this I was mistaken, for in no direction could I catch sight of the
gentleman.
<P>
Deeply concerned, I stood on the corner of a narrow street
or alley, undecided what to do. Should I go on to Brooklyn or retrace my
steps to the hotel?
<P>
I had about made up my mind to go on, when a disturbance
down the alley attracted my attention.
<P>
Straining my eyes in the semi-darkness, I discovered several
rough-looking young fellows in a group.
<P>
"Give it to him, Bandy; hit him over the head!" I heard
one of them exclaim.
<P>
"Fair share of plunder, Mickey," cried another.
<P>
And then I saw a helpless young man in their midst, who
was being beaten and no doubt robbed.
<P>
I did not give thought to the great risk I ran, but hurried
at once to the scene.
<P>
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
<P>
"Help me! help me!" called out the young man, in a beseeching
voice.
<P>
I stared at him in amazement. And no wonder. The young
man was Duncan Woodward.
<h3>CHAPTER XXXII</h3>
<h4>A NIGHT AT THE HOTEL</h4>
<P>
"Duncan Woodward!" I exclaimed. "Is it possible?"
<P>
He gave me a quick look of wonder. "Roger Strong!" he
gasped. Oh, save me, Roger! These rowdies want to kill me!"
<P>
Even as he spoke he received a cruel blow in the side.
<P>
"I'll help you all I can," I replied promptly.
<P>
I knew it would be a waste of words to try to argue with
the gang of toughs, so I simply went at them in a physical way.
<P>
I hit out right and left with all my might, and as quickly
as I could, repeated the blows.
<P>
The suddenness of my attack disconcerted the three footpads,
and when Duncan recovered sufficiently to lend a hand, one of them took to
his heels and disappeared up the alley.
<P>
The two remaining ones stood their ground, and called
on their companions to come back and bring "Noxy an' de rest."
<P>
I received a blow in the shoulder that nearly threw me
over on my back. But I straightened up, and in return gave my assailant a
hard one in the nose that drew blood.
<P>
"Duncan, you clear out to the street," I whispered. "I'll
come after."
<P>
The young man followed my advice, first, however, stopping
to pick up several things he had dropped or that had been taken from him.
<P>
When he was twenty or thirty feet away I started after
him. As I did so, I noticed he had left a large note-book lying on the ground.
I took it up, and hurried on. For a moment more we were safe upon the street
again, and the two toughs slunk away up the alley.
<P>
Then, for the first time, I noted something about Duncan
that I thought shameful beyond words.
<P>
He had been drinking heavily. The smell of liquor was
in his breath, and it was with difficulty that he kept from staggering.
<P>
"You're my best, friend," he mumbled. "My enemy and my
friend."
<P>
"What are you doing in New York, Duncan?" I asked.
<P>
"Come on important business, Roger. Say, take me to the
hotel, will you? That's a good fellow."
<P>
"Where are you staying?"
<P>
"Staying? Nowhere."
<P>
"Then why don't you take the train to Newville and go
home?"
<P>
"Can't do that."
<P>
"Why not?"
<P>
"The old gent would kill me. He says I spend too much
money. Well, maybe I do."
<P>
"You've bean drinking, Duncan."
<P>
"So I have, Roger. Take me to a hotel."
<P>
"Will you promise to go to bed and not to drink any more
if I do?"
<P>
"Yes. I've had enough."
<P>
"Then brace up and come with me."
<P>
Not without a good deal of difficulty did I manage to
make him walk several blocks to a good though not stylish hotel. Here I took
him into the office and explained the situation to the clerk in charge, who
promptly assigned us to a room on the third floor.
<P>
The charge was three dollars, which Duncan with some
difficulty managed to pay; and then we took the elevator to the third floor.
<P>
The room was a good one, with a soft bed. No sooner did
Duncan reach it than he sank down, and in five minutes he was fast asleep.
<P>
I was in a quandary as to what to do. I did not care to
leave him in his present state, and at the same time I was anxious to find
Mr. Harrison and visit Mrs. Agatha Mitts in Brooklyn.
<P>
I wondered if my kind friend from Chicago had gone on
without me, until I suddenly remembered that the Brooklyn address was in
my pocket, and that he probably did not remember the street and number.
<P>
This being the case, he had no doubt returned to the hotel
and was awaiting me.
<P>
I looked at Duncan, and made up my mind that he would
sleep several hours, if not longer, without awaking.
<P>
Making him as comfortable as possible on the bed, I left
the room, locking the door behind me.
<P>
Down in the office I explained the situation to the clerk
when I left the key, and he promised to attend to matters if anything unusual
happened.
<P>
I was not very well acquainted with New York City, and
in trying to find my way to the hotel at which Mr. Harrison was stopping,
I nearly lost my way.
<P>
But several inquiries, made here and there, set me right,
and at length I reached the large, open corridor.
<P>
As I was about to step into the office, a well-known voice
hailed me.
<P>
"Well, here you are at last." Of course it was Mr. Harrison.
<P>
"Yes, sir."
<P>
"Did I lose you, or <I>vice versa?"</I> he went on.
<P>
"I don't know. I'm sure it wasn't intentional, anyway."
<P>
"Have you been over to Brooklyn?" he continued curiously.
<P>
"No, sir."
<P>
"I thought you had; it is so long since we parted."
<P>
"I've had quite an adventure in the meantime."
<P>
"Indeed? You didn't meet Chris Holtzmann or this Aaron
Woodward, did you?"
<P>
"I met Mr. Woodward's son," I replied, and in a brief
way I related my adventures. Mr. Harrison listened with deep interest.
<P>
"It is too bad that the son has started in such a wrong
path," he said. "I trust it teaches him a lesson to let liquor alone. What
do you intend to do now?"
<P>
"I suppose I had better go back and stay all night with
him. It is now too late to go to Brooklyn."
<P>
"I think you are right. I can call for you at, say, eight
o'clock in the morning."
<P>
This was agreed upon, and as it was then after nine o'clock,
I hurried back to Duncan at once. I found him still sleeping, and I did not
disturb him. There was a lounge in the room, and throwing off my coat, vest,
and shoes, I made my bed upon this.
<P>
For once I found it difficult to sleep. It seemed to me
that my adventures must soon come to an end. Was it the foreshadowing of
coming events that disturbed me? I could not tell. I wondered how all were
at home; my sister Kate, Uncle Enos, and the Widow Canby, and I prayed God
that I might be permitted to bring good news to them.
<P>
About midnight I fell into a light doze. Half an hour
later I awoke with a start. Some one was talking in the room. Sitting up,
I listened intently. It was Duncan, muttering in his sleep.
<P>
"Lift the spring, Pultzer," he said in a whisper. "Hist!
don't make so much noise, the old gent may hear you." He paused for a moment.
"There wasn't any money. But I've got the papers, yes, I've got the papers,
and when I find out their true value the old gent shall pay me to keep quiet."
<P>
I could not help but start at Duncan's words. Like a flash
of lightning came the revelation to me. He had entered his father's library
and taken the papers which Mr. Woodward had accused me of stealing.
<P>
It was as clear as day. It explained why Pultzer, accompanied
by another, who must have been of the party, had been out so late the night
of the robbery. They had helped Duncan in his nefarious work, hoping they
would be rewarded by the finding of a sum of money. Evidently the Models
were a bad set, and I was thoroughly glad Dick Blair had turned his back
upon them.
<P>
I waited with bated breath for Duncan to continue his
speaking, but was disappointed. He turned over on his side and dreamed on,
without a word.
<P>
At length I fell asleep. When I awoke it was daylight.
I jumped up and looked at Duncan. He was just stirring, and a moment later
he opened his eyes.
<P>
"Where am I?" he asked, with a puzzled look at me.
<P>
"You're all right, Duncan," I replied. "Don't you remember?"
<P>
"Oh, yes, I do now. How my head hurts. Is there any water
around?"
<P>
I went over to the faucet and drew him a glass. He sat
up and gulped it down.
<P>
"Have we been here all night?"
<P>
"Yes."
<P>
"You saved me from those toughs that wanted to rob me
last night?"
<P>
"Yes."
<P>
"I'm not dreaming?"
<P>
"No, you're not," I laughed. "I was just in the nick of
time."
<P>
"I know it all. You saved me, brought me to this place,
and put me to bed. Roger, you're a better fellow than I thought you were.
You're a better fellow than I am."
<P>
"You ought to turn over a new leaf," I said.
<P>
"Don't preach, Roger."
<P>
"I'm not preaching. I'm only telling you something for
your own good."
<P>
"I know it. I don't blame you. I've been doing wrong&#151; sowing
my wild oats. But they're all gone now. Just let me get straightened out
and I'll be a different fellow, see if I'm not."
<P>
"I hope so with all my heart. What brought you to New
York?"
<P>
He started.
<P>
"I&#151; I came&#151; I don't care to tell," he stammered.
<P>
"Were you going to Brooklyn?" I questioned, struck by
a sudden idea.
<P>
"Why, how did you know?" he exclaimed.
<P>
"You have certain papers," I continued.
<P>
"Yes, I&#151;" he felt in his pockets. "Why, where are they?"
<P>
"Are they in this?" I asked, suddenly remembering the
note-book I had picked up, and producing it.
<P>
"Yes, yes, give them to me."
<P>
"I think I had better keep them," I replied decidedly.
<h3>CHAPTER XXXIII</h3>
<h4>IN BROOKLYN</h4>
<P>
I fully understood the value of the
papers that were contained in the note-book. Mr. Aaron Woodward would not
have persecuted me so closely had he not deemed them of great importance.
<P>
And when I told Duncan I would keep them, I meant what
I said. It might not be right legally, but I was sure it was right morally,
and that was enough to quiet my conscience.
<P>
"Better keep them?" repeated Duncan, as he sprang to his
feet.
<P>
"Exactly."
<P>
"You have no right to do that."
<P>
"I don't know about that. I was arrested for having them,
and what's the use of my having the name without the game?"
<P>
Duncan sank down on the edge of the bed again.
<P>
"If you had spoken to me like that yesterday, I'd have
wanted to punch your head," he said. "But you're a good fellow, Roger, and
I don't blame you for acting as you do. Do you know what the papers contain?"
<P>
"I think I do."
<P>
"They concern my father's affairs," he went on uneasily.
<P>
"And my father's as well," I added.
<P>
"Not so very much."
<P>
"I think so."
<P>
"Let me show you. Hand the papers over."
<P>
"Excuse me, Duncan, if I decline to do so. You, aided
by Pultzer and others, stole them from your father's library, and then threw
suspicion on me."
<P>
"I didn't throw suspicion on you. My father did that himself."
<P>
"You had nothing to do with that handkerchief?"
<P>
"I took the handkerchief by accident."
<P>
"Then I beg your pardon for having said so," I said heartily.
<P>
"Never mind, let that pass. I'll tell you what I'll do.
Give me the papers and I will restore them to my father and tell him the
truth."
<P>
"I must decline your offer."
<P>
"Why? Don't you believe I'll confess? If you don't I'll
give you a written confession."
<P>
"No, it isn't that. I am going to keep the papers because
they are valuable to me."
<P>
"What do you mean by valuable?" asked Duncan, his curiosity
increasing.
<P>
"Just what I say."
<P>
"What will the old gent say when he hears of it?"
<P>
"I don't care what he says. He'll hear of a good deal
more before long."
<P>
"How about the robbery at the Widow Canby's?"
<P>
"That will be straightened out, too."
<P>
There was a knock on the door, and, opening it, I was
confronted by one of the servants.
<P>
"Mr. Strong here, sir?" he asked.
<P>
"That's my name."
<P>
"A gentleman below to see you, sir. Gave his name as Mr.
Harrison."
<P>
"Tell him I will be down in a minute," I said.
<P>
"Now I'm ready to leave you," I went on to Duncan, when
the servant had departed. "I advise you to take a good wash, get your breakfast,
and take the first train home. Good-by."
<P>
"Yes, but, Roger&#151;"
<P>
"By doing that you may be doing your father a greater
service than in any other way. You say you will turn over a new leaf, and
I hope you will. If all goes as it should you will have a hard trial to stand
before long. But do as I did when things went wrong in our family, bear up
under it, and if you do what's right somebody is bound to respect you."
<P>
And, without waiting for a reply, I caught up my hat and
hurried from the room.
<P>
I found Mr. Harrison waiting for me in the parlor.
<P>
"I thought I'd come over early," he explained. "I know
young blood is impatient, and I half expected to find you gone."
<P>
"I didn't want to make a call before folks were up," I
answered. "Besides, I have made quite an important discovery since we parted."
<P>
"Indeed."
<P>
"Yes. Come away from this place and I'll tell you. I don't
want to meet Duncan Woodward again."
<P>
And as we walked away from the hotel I related the particulars
about the note-book.
<P>
"You are gathering evidence by the wholesale," laughed
Mr. Harrison. "You'll have more than enough to convict."
<P>
"I don't want to make a failure of it," I said firmly.
"When I go to court I want a clear case from start to finish."
<P>
"Good! Strong, I admire your grit. Come in the restaurant,
and while we have a bit of breakfast let us look over the papers. I declare,
I was never before so interested in some one else's affairs."
<P>
And as we waited for our rolls, eggs, and coffee, we read
the papers through carefully.
<P>
They gave much information, the most startling of which
was that John Stumpy and Ferguson were one and the same person.
<P>
"That explains why Mr. Woodward made so many slips of
the tongue when addressing him," I said.
<P>
"Here is another important thing," remarked Mr. Harrison;
"a letter from this John Woodward stating that Mrs. Agatha Mitts knows of
the forgeries. Now, if you can get this woman to testify against the two
culprits, I think you will have a clear case."
<P>
"And that is just what I will force her to do," I said,
with strong determination.
<P>
I could hardly wait to finish breakfast. Fortunately it
did not take Mr. Harrison long to do so, and, five minutes later we were
on our way to the ferry. The trip over the East River, near the big bridge,
did not take long, and we soon stood on the opposite shore. Vannack Avenue
was pretty well up town, and we took the elevated train to reach it.
<P>
"There is No. 648," said Mr. Harrison, pointing to a neat
three-story brick building that stood in the middle of the block; "let us
walk past first, and see if there is any name on the door."
<P>
We did so, and found a highly polished silver plate bearing
the words:&#151;
<P ALIGN=CENTER class=center>
MRS. AGATHA MITTS <BR>
<I>Boarding</I>
<P>
"Perhaps it would be a good plan to find out something
about the woman before we call on her," suggested my companion, after we
had passed the house.
<P>
"There is a drug store on the corner," I said. "We can
stop in there. No doubt they'll think we are looking for board."
<P>
"An excellent idea."
<P>
We walked down to the drug store. On entering, Mr. Harrison
ordered a couple of glasses of soda water and then called the proprietor
aside.
<P>
"Can you tell me anything about the lady that keeps the
boarding-house below here?" he asked.
<P>
"Which one?"
<P>
"Mrs. Agatha Mitts."
<P>
"I've heard it's a very good house," was the noncommittal
reply.
<P>
"You know the lady?"
<P>
"She comes in here once in a while for drugs."
<P>
"May I ask what kind of a woman she is?"
<P>
"Well, she's good enough in her way, though rather eccentric.
I understand she furnishes good board, however. She has kept the house for
many years."
<P>
"Has she many boarders?"
<P>
"Eight or ten. She used to have more. But they were rather
a lively set and hurt the reputation of the place."
<P>
Mr. Harrison paid for the soda, and a second later we
quitted the place.
<P>
"Not much information gained there," said my Chicago friend,
when we were once again on the street.
<P>
"One thing is certain," I replied. "She is the right party.
It would never have done to have tackled the wrong person."
<P>
"I guess the best thing for us to do is to call on the
woman without waiting further."
<P>
"So I think."
<P>
"She may be a very hard person to manage. Strong, you
must be careful of what you say."
<P>
"I shall, Mr. Harrison," I replied. "But that woman must
do what is right or go to prison."
<P>
"I agree with you."
<P>
Ascending the steps of the house, I rang the bell. A tidy
Irish girl answered the summons.
<P>
"Is Mrs. Agatha Mitts in?" I asked.
<P>
"Yes, sir."
<P>
"We would like to see her."
<P>
"Will you please step into the parlor?" went on the girl,
and we did so.
<P>
"Who shall I say it is?"
<P>
"Mr. Harrison," put in my Western friend.
<P>
"Yes, sir."
<P>
The girl disappeared. My heart beat strongly. It seemed
to me as if life and death hung upon the meeting that was to follow.
<h3>CHAPTER XXXIV</h3>
<h4>MRS. AGATHA. MITTS</h4>
<P>
I could not help but wonder, as I
sat in the parlor with my friend Mr. Harrison, waiting for the appearance
of Mrs. Agatha Mitts, what kind of a person the keeper of the boarding-house
would prove to be.
<P>
For some reason the name suggested to me a tall, gaunt
female with sharp features; and I was taken by surprise when a short, dumpy
woman, with a round face, came wobbling in and asked what was wanted.
<P>
"This is Mrs. Agatha Mitts?" asked Mr. Harrison, as he
arose.
<P>
"Yes, sir. And you are Mr. Harrison, I suppose. I don't
remember you."
<P>
"I didn't think you would," laughed my friend from Chicago.
"I am from the West, and have never before been in Brooklyn."
<P>
"Yes? Then your business with me is&#151; ? Perhaps you desire
board?" and she smiled; first at him and then at me.
<P>
"No; we do not wish board," was the quiet reply. "We come
to see you on business."
<P>
"And what is it?"
<P>
"We would like to see you privately."
<P>
"Certainly. Pray take a seat. I will close the doors."
<P>
She shut the folding doors leading to the sitting room,
and then the door to the hall.
<P>
"Now I am quite at your service," she said, and peered
at us rather sharply.
<P>
There was an awkward pause for a moment, and then Mr.
Harrison went on bluntly:&#151;
<P>
"Has Mr. Aaron Woodward or Chris Holtzmann been here since
yesterday, madam?"
<P>
Mrs. Mitts started at the mention of the two names. Then
she recovered herself.
<P>
"Whom did you say, sir?" she queried innocently.
<P>
Mr. Harrison repeated his question.
<P>
"Why, I really haven't heard of those two gentlemen in
so long a time I've nearly forgotten them," she said sweetly.
<P>
"They weren't here yesterday?" I put in.
<P>
"No." And this time her tone was a trifle cold.
<P>
"Do you expect them to-day?" I went on.
<P>
"No, I don't." She paused a second. "Is that all you wish
to know?"
<P>
"No, ma'am," I replied promptly. "There is a good deal
more I wish to know."
<P>
"Who are you, if I may ask?"
<P>
"My name is Strong."
<P>
She looked puzzled for a moment.
<P>
"I don't recognize the name," she said, and then she suddenly
turned pale.
<P>
"I am the son of Carson Strong, who was sent to prison
for alleged forgery and the passing of worthless checks," I continued. "I
suppose you remember the case."
<P>
"Har&#151; hardly," she faltered. "I&#151; I heard something of
it, but not the particulars."
<P>
"That is strange, when you were so interested in it."
<P>
"I?" she repeated, in pretended surprise.
<P>
"Yes, madam," said Mr. Harrison. "You were very much
interested."
<P>
"Who says so?"
<P>
"I say so," said I.
<P>
"You! You are only a boy."
<P>
"I suppose I am, but that doesn't make any difference.
You know all about the great wrong that has been done, and&#151;"
<P>
"It is false! I know nothing!" she cried in anger.
<P>
"You know all, and we want you to tell as all you know
before we leave this house."
<P>
Mrs. Agatha Mitts arose in a passion.
<P>
"I want you to get out of my house at once!" she ejaculated.
"I won't stand your presence here another minute."
<P>
"Excuse me, madam; not so fast," said Mr. Harrison, calmly.
"My young friend Strong is quite right in what he says."
<P>
"I don't care what you think about it," she snapped.
<P>
"Oh, yes, you do. Perhaps you don't know who I am," went
on my Western friend, deliberately.
<P>
The sly insinuation had its effect. Evidently the woman
had a swift vision of a detective in citizens' clothes before her mind's
eye.
<P>
"You come in authority," she said faintly.
<P>
"We won't speak about that now," said Mr. Harrison. "All
we want you to do is to make a complete confession of your knowledge of the
affair."
<P>
"I haven't any knowledge."
<P>
"You have," I said. "You know everything. I have papers
here belonging to Woodward, Holtzmann, and Ferguson to prove it. There is
no use for you to deny it, and if you insist and make it necessary to call
in the police&#151;"
<P>
"No, no! Please don't do that, I beg of you," she cried.
<P>
"Then will you do as I wish?"
<P>
"But my reputation? It will be gone forever," she moaned.
<P>
"It will be gone anyway, if you have to go to prison,"
observed Mr. Harrison, sagely.
<P>
"And if I make a clean confession you will not prosecute
me?" she asked eagerly.
<P>
"I'll promise you that," I said.
<P>
"You are not fooling me?"
<P>
"No, ma'am."
<P>
She sprang to her feet and paced the room several times.
<P>
"I'll do it," she cried. "They have never treated me right,
and I do not care what becomes of them so long as I go clear. What do you
wish me to do, gentlemen?"
<P>
I was nonplussed for an instant. Mr. Harrison helped me
out.
<P>
"I will write out your confession and you can sign it,"
he said. "Have you ink and paper handy?"
<P>
"Yes."
<P>
Mrs. Mitts brought forth the material, and we all sat
down again.
<P>
"Remember to give us only the plain facts," I said.
<P>
"I will," she returned sharply.
<P>
In a rather roundabout way she made her confession, if
it could be called such. It filled several sheets of paper, and it took over
half an hour. It contained but little more than what my readers already know
or suspect. She knew positively that Mr. Aaron Woodward was the forger of
the checks, Holtzmann had presented them, and Ferguson had so altered the
daily reports that my father had unwittingly made a false showing on his
books. About Weaver she knew nothing.
<P>
When once explained the whole matter was as clear as day.
<P>
When he had finished the writing, Mr. Harrison read the
paper out loud, and after some hesitation the woman signed it, and then we
both witnessed it.
<P>
"I guess our business here is at an end," said my Western
friend.
<P>
"I think so," I replied. "But one thing more, Mrs. Mitts,"
I continued, turning to her. "If Mr. Woodward or Chris Holtzmann calls, I
think you will find it advisable to keep this affair a secret."
<P>
"I will not be at home to them," she replied briefly.
<P>
"A good plan," said Mr. Harrison. "Now that you have done
the right thing, the less you say about the matter the better for you."
<P>
A few minutes later, with the paper tucked safely in my
pocket, we left the house. Mrs. Mitts watched us sharply from behind the
half-closed blinds.
<P>
In half an hour we were down town and across the ferry
once more.
<P>
"I suppose you wish to get home as soon as possible,"
said Mr. Harrison, as we boarded a street-car to take us to his hotel.
<P>
"Yes, sir. My sister and the rest will be anxious to hear
how I've made out, and besides I'm anxious to learn how things have gone
since I have been away."
<P>
"I've no doubt of it."
<P>
"What do you intend to do?"
<P>
"I hardly know. I have some business, but I am quite
interested in your case, and&#151;"
<P>
"Would you like to go along! You'll be heartily welcome,
sir."
<P>
"Thank you, I will. I want to see how this drama ends,"
said Mr. Harrison.
<P>
A little later I procured my valise, and we set out for
Darbyville.
<h3>CHAPTER XXXV</h3>
<h4>THE WIDOW CANBY'S MONEY</h4>
<P>
I am sure my readers will well understand
why my thoughts were busy as the train rolled on its way to Newville. I could
hardly realize that I held the proofs of my father's innocence in my possession;
and I was strongly tempted several times to ask my kind Western friend to
pinch me to make sure that I was really awake, and was not merely dreaming
my good fortune.
<P>
Mr. Harrison probably guessed what was passing in my mind,
for he placed a kindly hand upon my shoulder, and said, with a smile:&#151;
<P>
"Does it seem almost too good to be true?"
<P>
"That's just it," I returned. "The events of the past
week have so crowded on each other that I'm in a perfect whirl."
<P>
"You will have a little more excitement before it is over."
<P>
"I suppose so. But now that I know it is all right I shall
not mind it. I wonder if I couldn't send my father the good news by telegraph?"
<P>
"You can easily enough. But don't you think you had better
wait until all is settled? You might raise false hopes."
<P>
"No fear; Aaron Woodward is guilty beyond a doubt. But
I will wait if you think best."
<P>
It was not long before the train rolled into Newville.
On alighting Mr. Harrison insisted on hiring a cab, and in this we bowled
swiftly on our way to Darbyville. As we passed out of the city and up on
the country road I wondered how matters had progressed during my absence.
Had the merchant returned home?
<P>
At Darbyville a crowd of men gazed at us with curious
eyes. Among them was Parsons the constable and others who knew me.
<P>
"Hello, you back again?" shouted Parsons.
<P>
"Yes, indeed," I replied. "I suppose you didn't expect
me so soon?"
<P>
"I'll allow as how I didn't expect you at all," he returned,
with a grin.
<P>
"Well, you were mistaken. I'm back, and back to stay,"
said I.
<P>
My heart beat high as we turned into the side road that
led to the Widow Canby's house. I strained my eyes to catch sight of the
first one who might appear. It was my Uncle Enos. He was doing a bit of mending
on the front fence. As soon as he saw me he threw down his hammer, and ran
toward us.
<P>
"Well, well, Roger, struck port again, have you? Glad
you're back."
<P>
And he shook my right hand hard.
<P>
"My friend, Mr. Harrison, from Chicago," said I. "This
is my uncle, Captain Enos Moss."
<P>
They had hardly finished hand-shaking, when Kate and the
Widow Canby came out of the house.
<P>
"Oh, Roger, I'm so glad you're back!" cried Kate. And
then she looked earnestly into my eyes. "Did you&#151; did, you&#151;"
<P>
"Yes, Kate, I've succeeded. Father's innocence can be
proven."
<P>
"Oh, thank God!" cried my sister, and the tears of joy
started from her eyes. I felt like crying, too, and soon, somehow, there
was hardly a dry eye in the group.
<P>
"You must have had a hard time of it," sail the Widow
Canby.
<P>
"My kind friend here helped me a good deal," I said.
<P>
Mr. Harrison was introduced to the others, and soon we
were seated, on the piazza, and I was relating my experiences.
<P>
The interest of my listeners grew as I went on. They could
hardly believe it possible that Mr. Aaron Woodward, with all his outward
show of gentlemanliness, was such a thoroughly bad man. When I came to speak
of John Stumpy, alias Ferguson, Kate burst out:&#151;
<P>
"I declare, I've almost forgotten. I've got good news,
too. This very morning I went hunting again and picked up the paper that
was lost. I was trying to read it when you drove up. Here it is."
<P>
And my sister handed over Nicholas Weaver's dying statement.
<P>
"It is hardly of use now," I said. "Still, it will make
the evidence against Mr. Woodward so much stronger."
<P>
"I've discovered that this Nick Weaver was a chum of
Woodward's," said Uncle Enos.
<P>
"A chum?"
<P>
"Yes. He came from Chicago."
<P>
"From Chicago!" I ejaculated.
<P>
"Exactly."
<P>
Meanwhile Mr. Harrison was examining the statement, which
Kate had produced from her dress pocket.
<P>
"I see it all," he cried. "Nicholas Weaver was the man
who helped Holtzmann concoct the scheme whereby a relative in Chicago was
supposed to have died and willed Aaron Woodward all his money."
<P>
"I see. But why did he leave the statement?" I asked.
<P>
"Because, he says here, Woodward did not treat him right.
This Ferguson or Stumpy was a friend to Weaver, and the paper was gotten
up to bring Woodward to terms."
<P>
That explanation was clear enough, and I could easily
understand why John Stumpy had come to Darbyville, and how it was the merchant
had treated him with so much consideration.
<P>
"And there is another thing to tell you, Roger," put in
the Widow Canby. "Something I know you will be greatly pleased to hear."
<P>
"What is it?" I asked, in considerable curiosity.
<P>
"I have evidence to show that this John Stumpy was the
man who robbed me of my money. Of course I knew it was so when Kate and you
said so, but outsiders now know it."
<P>
"And how?"
<P>
"Miles Nanson saw the man running from the house. He was
hurrying to get a doctor for his wife, who was very sick, and he didn't stop
to question the fellow."
<P>
"But why didn't he speak of it before?" I asked. "He might
have saved us a deal of trouble."
<P>
"He never heard of the robbery until last night, his wife
has been so sick. He can testify to seeing the man."
<P>
"I'm glad of that," I said. "But unfortunately, that doesn't
restore the money."
<P>
"No, I suppose not. This Stumpy still has it."
<P>
"No; he claims to have lost it," I returned, and I related
the particulars as I had overheard them in the boarding-house on the opposite
side of the Pass River.
<P>
"I wish I could find it&#151; the money, I mean&#151; as I did the
papers," put in Kate.
<P>
"Where did he jump over the fence?" I asked suddenly.
<P>
"Down by the crab-apple tree," said Uncle Enos.
<P>
"Have you looked there?" queried Mr. Harrison.
<P>
"No," said Kate; "you don't think&#151;" she began.
<P>
"There is nothing like looking," said my Western friend,
slowly.
<P>
"I guess you're right," I replied, "and the sooner the
better."
<P>
In a minute I was out of the house. Kate was close on
my heels, and together we made our way to the orchard, followed by the others.
<P>
"Now, let me see," I went on. "If he went over the fence
here he must have vaulted over. I'll try that, and note how the money might
have dropped."
<P>
I placed my hands on the top rail and sprang up to vault
over. As my head bent over, my eyes caught sight of an object lying in the
hole of the fence post.
<P>
I picked it up. It was the Widow Canby's pocketbook.
<h3>CHAPTER XXXVI</h3>
<h4>"ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL"</h4>
<P>
Of course I was highly delighted
with the success of my search, and as I brought forth the pocketbook all
the others gave a cry of surprise.
<P>
"You've got it, Roger!" ejaculated my uncle. "You've got
it, just as sure as guns is guns!"
<P>
"So I have," I replied, as coolly as I could, though I
was at the top notch of excitement.
<P>
"Better examine it," put in Mr. Harrison, cautiously.
"It may be empty."
<P>
"Empty!" cried Kate in dismay, and the word sent a chill
through my own heart.
<P>
With nervous fingers I tore the pocketbook open. I suppose
I ought to have given it to the widow, but I was too excited to think of
what was just right and what was not.
<P>
"The money was in a piece of newspaper," said the Widow
Canby. "I had&#151; ah, there it is!"
<P>
And sure enough, there it was&#151; nearly three hundred
dollars&#151; safe and sound.
<P>
I almost felt like dancing a jig, and could not refrain
from throwing up my hat, which I did in such a way that it caught in a limb
of a tree, and forced me to climb up to recover it.
<P>
As I was about jumping to the ground I heard a buggy pass
on the road. Looking down, I was surprised to see that it contained Mr. Aaron
Woodward and Chris Holtzmann. On seeing the party on the ground below, the
merchant stopped his horse and jumped out.
<P>
"How do you do, Mrs. Canby?" he said, as he came over
to the fence without catching sight of me.
<P>
"Pretty well, Mr. Woodward," was the widow's reply.
<P>
"Have you heard anything of your money yet?" went on the
merchant, with apparent concern.
<P>
"Oh, yes&#151;" and the widow hesitated.
<P>
My sister whispered something in her ear.
<P>
"It was just found," said Kate.
<P>
The merchant gave a start.
<P>
"You don't mean it!" he cried. "Where?"
<P>
"Down here by the fence."
<P>
"Who put it there?" asked Mr. Woodward, sharply.
<P>
"No one. It was dropped by John Stumpy."
<P>
"Humph! Perhaps so!" sneered the merchant.
<P>
"It's true," exclaimed Kate, stoutly.
<P>
"More likely by your brother Roger."
<P>
"Avast there!" cried Uncle Enos. "You're saying too much."
<P>
"I don't think so," replied Mr. Woodward, in deep sarcasm.
"Of course you want to shield the boy all you can, but I 'm sure in my mind
that he is guilty."
<P>
"And I'm positive in my own mind that I'm innocent," said
I, and I jumped to the ground.
<P>
"Roger Strong!" he cried, stepping back in surprise; and
I saw Chris Holtzmann give a start. "Where did you come from?"
<P>
"I came from&#151; up a tree," I returned lightly, and I may
add that never before had I felt in such particularly good humor.
<P>
"Don't trifle with me," he cried in anger. "Answer my
question."
<P>
"I will when I get ready."
<P>
"You refuse?"
<P>
"Oh, no. But I'm not compelled to answer, understand that,
Mr. Aaron Woodward. I'll answer because I choose to do so."
<P>
"Never mind," he snapped. "Where have you been?"
<P>
"To Chicago&#151; as you know&#151; and to Brooklyn."
<P>
"To Brooklyn!" he cried, growing pale.
<P>
"Yes, sir, to see Mrs. Agatha Mitts."
<P>
"And did you see her?" he faltered.
<P>
"Yes, sir."
<P>
"And she&#151;" he began.
<P>
"What she said or did will be produced in court later
on," put in Mr. Harrison.
<P>
"Eh?" the merchant wheeled around. "Who are you?"
<P>
"My name is James Harrison. I am from Chicago. I am this
boy's friend, and I am here to see justice done."
<P>
"What do you mean?"
<P>
"I mean that you and your colleagues&#151; Chris Holtzmann
there, John Stumpy, alias Ferguson, and the late Nicholas Weaver&#151; have foully
wronged this boy's father."
<P>
"It's a lie!" cried Aaron Woodward, with a quivering lip.
<P>
"It's the truth," I said. "The plain truth, and I can
prove every word of it."
<P>
"Prove it!"
<P>
"Yes, in every detail, Mr. Aaron Woodward. I have worked
hard fighting for honor, but I have won. Soon my father shall be free, and
for aught I know to the contrary, you will occupy his place in prison."
<P>
"I!" cried the merchant, in horror. "A likely thing!"
<P>
"We shall see," I said. "In the meantime be careful of
what you say against me, or I will have you arrested before sundown."
<P>
Mr. Woodward gave me a look that was savageness itself.
Apparently he was on the verge of giving way to a burst of temper. But he
seemed to think better of it, and turning, he jumped into his buggy and drove
away.
<P>
It was the last time I ever saw him. On the following
day Mr. Harrison, Uncle Enos, and myself drove down to Newville and engaged
a first-class lawyer to take up the case. This legal gentleman pushed matters
so fast that on the following Monday all the papers necessary for Woodward's
arrest were ready for execution.
<P>
The officers came to Darbyville late in the afternoon
to secure their man. They were told that Mr. Woodward had gone to New York
on business. They waited for him the remainder of the day and all of the
next.
<P>
It was useless. The highly respected head merchant of
Darbyville did not appear; and an examination showed that he had mortgaged
his house and his business, and taken every cent of cash with him.
<P>
It was an open acknowledgment of his guilt, and Kate was
for letting it go at that.
<P>
"It will do no good to have him locked up," she said.
<P>
"One thing is certain, sech a rascal ain't fit to be at
liberty," put in my Uncle Enos.
<P>
"He may turn around and rob somebody else," added the
Widow Canby.
<P>
"That's just it," I said; and determined to bring the
man to justice, I set a detective on his track.
<P>
The search was successful, for in a week Aaron Woodward
was caught in Boston, preparing to embark for Europe. He was brought back
to Newville to await the action of the grand jury. But he never came to trial.
In less than a week he was found in his cell one morning, dying. Rather than
face the humiliation of going to jail he had taken his life. What became
of Duncan I did not know for a long while until, through Mr. Harrison, I
learned that he was in Chicago working for one of the railroads. He had the
making of a good fellow in him, and I trust that he became one. Chris Holtzmann
disappeared, and his Palace of Pleasure is a thing of the past. John Stumpy
went to Texas, and I heard that Pultzer went with him.
<P>
It was not long before my father received his pardon and
came home. I cannot express the joy that all of us experienced when he came
forth from prison, not only a free man, but also bearing the proofs of his
innocence. We were all there to greet him, and as my sister Kate rushed into
his arms I felt that fighting for honor meant a good deal.
<P>
Five years have gone by. My father and I are now in business
in Newville. We live in Darbyville, along with my uncle,&#151; who married the
Widow Canby,&#151; and my sister Kate.
<P>
Holland &amp; Mack have recovered all that was stolen
from them. They were profuse in their apologies to my father, and offered
him a good situation, which he declined.
<P>
We are all happy&#151; especially Kate and I. During off hours
we are all but inseparable. I like my work, and expect some day to be a leading
merchant. The clouds that hung over the family honor have passed, and sunshine
seems to have come to stay, and that being so I will bid my readers good-by.
<h4>THE END</h4>
<pre>
*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, TRUE TO HIMSELF ***

This file should be named trhim10.txt or trhim10.zip
Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, trhim11.txt
VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, trhim10a.txt

Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US
unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we usually do not
keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.

We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance
of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections,
even years after the official publication date.

Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til
midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at
Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month.  A
preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
and editing by those who wish to do so.

Most people start at our Web sites at:
<a href="http://gutenberg.net">http://gutenberg.net</a> or
<a href="http://promo.net/pg">http://promo.net/pg</a>

These Web sites include award-winning information about Project
Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new
eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!).


Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement
can get to them as follows, and just download by date.  This is
also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the
indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an
announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.

<a href="http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext04">http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext04</a> or
<a href="ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03">ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03</a>

Or /etext03, 02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90

Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want,
as it appears in our Newsletters.


Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)

We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work.  The
time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours
to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc.   Our
projected audience is one hundred million readers.  If the value
per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text
files per month:  1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+
We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002
If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total
will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end.

The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks!
This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users.

Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated):

eBooks Year Month

    1  1971 July
   10  1991 January
  100  1994 January
 1000  1997 August
 1500  1998 October
 2000  1999 December
 2500  2000 December
 3000  2001 November
 4000  2001 October/November
 6000  2002 December*
 9000  2003 November*
10000  2004 January*


The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created
to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium.

We need your donations more than ever!

As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people
and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut,
Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois,
Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts,
Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New
Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio,
Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South
Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West
Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming.

We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones
that have responded.

As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list
will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states.
Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state.

In answer to various questions we have received on this:

We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally
request donations in all 50 states.  If your state is not listed and
you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have,
just ask.

While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are
not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting
donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to
donate.

International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about
how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made
deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are
ways.

Donations by check or money order may be sent to:

Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
PMB 113
1739 University Ave.
Oxford, MS 38655-4109

Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment
method other than by check or money order.

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by
the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN
[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154.  Donations are
tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law.  As fund-raising
requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be
made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states.

We need your donations more than ever!

You can get up to date donation information online at:

<a href="http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html">http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html</a>


***

If you can't reach Project Gutenberg,
you can always email directly to:

Michael S. Hart &lt;hart@pobox.com&gt;

Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message.

We would prefer to send you information by email.


**The Legal Small Print**


(Three Pages)

***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START***
Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers.
They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from
someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how
you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to.

*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK
By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive
a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by
sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical
medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.

ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS
This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks,
is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart
through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project").
Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
distribute it in the United States without permission and
without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth
below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook
under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.

Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market
any commercial products without permission.

To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable
efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any
medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other
things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer
codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.

LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may
receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims
all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.

If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of
receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
time to the person you received it from. If you received it
on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
copy. If you received it electronically, such person may
choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
receive it electronically.

THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
PARTICULAR PURPOSE.

Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
may have other legal rights.

INDEMNITY
You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation,
and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated
with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including
legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the
following that you do or cause:  [1] distribution of this eBook,
[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook,
or [3] any Defect.

DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by
disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
or:

[1]  Only give exact copies of it.  Among other things, this
     requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
     eBook or this "small print!" statement.  You may however,
     if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable
     binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
     including any form resulting from conversion by word
     processing or hypertext software, but only so long as
     *EITHER*:

     [*]  The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
          does *not* contain characters other than those
          intended by the author of the work, although tilde
          (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
          be used to convey punctuation intended by the
          author, and additional characters may be used to
          indicate hypertext links; OR

     [*]  The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at
          no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
          form by the program that displays the eBook (as is
          the case, for instance, with most word processors);
          OR

     [*]  You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
          no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
          eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
          or other equivalent proprietary form).

[2]  Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this
     "Small Print!" statement.

[3]  Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the
     gross profits you derive calculated using the method you
     already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  If you
     don't derive profits, no royalty is due.  Royalties are
     payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation"
     the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
     legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
     periodic) tax return.  Please contact us beforehand to
     let us know your plans and to work out the details.

WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of
public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed
in machine readable form.

The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time,
public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses.
Money should be paid to the:
"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."

If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or
software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at:
<a href="mailto:hart@pobox.com">hart@pobox.com</a>

[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only
when distributed free of all fees.  Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by
Michael S. Hart.  Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be
used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be
they hardware or software or any other related product without
express permission.]

*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END*
</pre>
</BODY></HTML>
generated by cgit v1.2.3 (git 2.25.1) at 2026-05-22 18:48:25 +0000