Kitabı oku: «Ned Wilding's Disappearance: or, The Darewell Chums in the City», sayfa 5
CHAPTER XIV
NED’S BUSINESS VENTURE
Meanwhile Ned Wilding was speeding on the fast train toward New York. The first part of the journey was no novelty to him, as he had been over that part of the line before. Soon, however, he noticed a change in the scenery and was kept busy watching the landscape as it seemed to fly past the windows.
“I wonder if I’ll have time to attend to that little matter of business before I go to Uncle Kenfield’s house,” said Ned to himself as he leaned back in his seat and pulled a bundle of papers from his pocket. “Let’s see what the address is.”
Ned began to turn over the pages of a booklet which he selected from among his bundle of documents.
“Skem & Skim, 111 Broadway,” he read. “I’ll just drop down there before I go to uncle’s house and buy my stock. Just think of me being a stockholder in the Mt. Olive Oil Well Corporation, Limited. Capital ten million dollars, surplus and undivided profits five millions. It must be a great concern.”
Ned gave himself up to pleasant thoughts and looked out of the window. Perhaps he saw himself a millionaire riding in his private car. For Ned was going to do some business on his own account – the first he had ever done.
When he learned that he was to visit his aunt and uncle in New York he decided to put into operation a plan he had long had in mind; ever since, in fact, he got the thousand dollars damages which were paid to him and his chums by Mr. Ricka, as told in the first volume of this “Darewell Chums Series.”
Mr. Wilding, after much solicitation on Ned’s part, had allowed his son to take one hundred dollars of the money to invest in any way he saw fit, subject to certain restrictions.
“I’ll not let you buy gold bricks with it, of course,” Mr. Wilding had said, “and I advise you not to invest it in alleged counterfeit money or ‘green goods.’ But anything else in reason you may do. It’s your first real business venture, and it will be good for you to learn by experience. I had to when I was a boy.”
“How about buying oil stock?” Ned had asked. “I have been reading that up lately.”
Mr. Wilding smiled behind the paper he was reading.
“I warned you against gold bricks,” he said.
“Oh, but this is a legitimate oil business,” Ned replied. “The company advertises in the best magazines, and is only selling stock low for a few days. By February first it is going to five dollars a share. It’s only fifty cents now. Why, they have testimonials from prominent men, and an expert writes that the oil wells of the Mt. Olive concern are the richest ever seen. They have one well that runs a hundred barrels a day and they haven’t it half bored yet.”
“Ned,” said Mr. Wilding, and he spoke a little gravely, “I’m not going to stand in your way. I’ve allowed you to take that hundred dollars to invest as you please. Now I’m not going to advise you. If I did I might as well invest the money myself. I want you to learn to be a business man and the best way to learn is by experience, though it isn’t always the easiest way. If you want to buy stock in that oil company do so. If you get ‘bitten’ you do so with your eyes open.”
“Don’t you think it’s a good investment, father?”
“I’m not going to say. Sometimes those concerns pay well, and again they do not. It’s an operation such as business men enter into every day, and in this case, as far as you are concerned, it is legitimate, since you are going to buy the stock outright, and not speculate in it by buying on a margin. As I said, I will not advise you. Buy that stock if you want to, and I’ll say nothing which ever way the cat jumps. It’s your money and you will have to foot the bill. I wouldn’t risk more than a hundred dollars though.”
“That will give me two hundred shares at fifty cents each,” Ned replied, figuring on the back of an envelope. “If it goes to five dollars a share I’ll make nine hundred dollars profit. That would be fine!”
“So you’ve decided to buy it, eh?”
“I think so. I’ll get it when I go to New York to Uncle Kenfield’s house.”
“Very well, Ned. You may do so. Only remember one thing, just repeat to yourself that old proverb about counting your chickens before they’re hatched.”
“Oh, well, I may not make nine hundred dollars, but I’m bound to clear some profit. The stock can’t go much below fifty cents a share,” Ned remarked hopefully.
“That’s your lookout,” his father replied. “Now that you’ve got it settled I’ll draw a hundred dollars of your thousand and give it to you before you start for New York.”
It was this transaction Ned had in mind as he was on his way to the great city. He read the account of the oil concern from circulars which had been mailed to him in Darewell a few weeks ago. There were big sheets of statistics, prospectuses glittering with gold printing, finely engraved sample stock certificates and a mass of figures that showed the impossibility of the Mt. Olive oil wells producing any less than the highest possible number of barrels per day.
“If this turns out all right I’ll get the other boys to invest some of their money,” Ned said to himself.
Ned reached New York safely about noon. He had his dinner in a restaurant near the station and then, leaving his trunk until he could have it sent to his uncle’s house, and carrying only a small valise, he went to the office of the oil concern.
He had little difficulty in finding it, once a policeman had directed him to Broadway. He was hardly prepared for the beautifully furnished office into which he stepped. There was heavy carpet on the floor, the chandeliers, glowing with electric lights, seemed of solid gold. There were brass and mahogany railings, big rosewood desks, telephones on the desks, stock tickers clicking in one corner, and three girls clicking on typewriters in another corner. On every side were evidence of a big and rushing business.
“Well, sir, what can we do for you? Who are you from?” asked a clerk, from behind a brass grating, as Ned entered.
“I came to buy some stock,” the boy replied.
“Who for? Speak quick! This is our busy day!”
“For myself,” Ned replied.
“Come, no joking. I haven’t any time to waste. Got an order from a broker? Hand it over with the check.”
“I haven’t any order and I haven’t any check,” Ned made reply, somewhat sharply, for the clerk’s manner nettled him. “I came in here to buy some stock on my own account. I’ve got the cash here, but if you don’t want – ”
“What is it?” asked a large, pompous man, with a florid face and a white moustache, coming from an inner office.
“This boy says he wants to buy some stock,” the clerk replied.
The florid man looked at Ned sharply.
“You mean this gentleman comes in here to invest in the Mt. Olive Oil Well Corporation,” the florid man went on quickly. “Certainly, my dear sir,” and he shot a meaning look at the clerk. “Skem & Skim will be happy to transact any business you may entrust them with. Step in here, please,” and he held the door open for Ned to enter the inner office.
That was even more richly furnished than the outer one. Ned sat in an upholstered chair that seemed to smother him, so far down did it let him sink.
“Now, my dear sir, what can we do for you?” and the man looked at Ned.
“I have a hundred dollars to invest in your oil well.”
The man seemed a little disappointed.
“Hum, yes, of course. Well, at the present market rate that will give you two hundred shares. You are in luck, my dear sir. We are going to put the price at a dollar a share in the morning. In fact we were going to advance it this afternoon. I will have your certificate made out at once.” He took the money, which Ned held out, and touched a button on his desk. A young man entered. “Make out a certificate for two hundred shares for this gentleman, er – let’s see – I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name when you mentioned it.”
As Ned had not mentioned it the gentleman’s inability to catch it might easily be forgiven.
Ned supplied the necessary information, and the clerk withdrew. Another entered a moment later. He seemed much excited:
“Just had a wire from Colonel Janders,” he said. “The Black Cat well has increased fifty barrels a day, Mr. Skem!”
“Good!” exclaimed the florid gentleman. “Tell Mr. Skim at once, and put the stock up to a dollar a share. You got in just in time,” he added, turning to Ned, and our hero thought so himself.
As the last clerk withdrew another one came in.
“Got an order from Mr. Johnson for five thousand shares,” he announced. “Shall I let him have ’em at fifty?”
“Sorry to disoblige Mr. Johnson, who is a very good friend of mine,” said Mr. Skem, “but I shall have to charge him a dollar. I guess he’ll pay it. The stock will go to two dollars a share before the end of the week.”
The first clerk came back with a finely engraved certificate, on which the name “Edward Wilding” was written in a flourishing hand.
“There you are,” said Mr. Skem. “I hope you will take some more stock soon. If you invest before the end of the week I will, as a special favor to you, make the price seventy-five cents.”
Ned had half a mind to invest another hundred dollars, but he thought he had better write to his father first. Then, with the precious certificate in his pocket, he started for his uncle’s house, planning to stop on the way and order his trunk sent up.
CHAPTER XV
IN TROUBLE
By inquiring from a policeman Ned found which elevated road to take in order to get to his uncle’s residence. As he found the station was close to the office of the oil company, he decided he would go direct to Mr. Kenfield’s home and arrange later to have his trunk sent up. He knew his uncle had a telephone, and thought the baggage could be sent for by an order over the wire. This would save him a long trip back to the station.
When Ned reached the address on West Forty-fourth street he was admitted by a maid, who asked him whom he wished to see.
“Is my uncle in?” asked Ned.
“Oh, so you’re the little lad from Darewell,” the girl exclaimed, with a smile, though Ned did not think he quite came under the category of “little.” The maid asked him to come in and, as soon as he entered the hall, he saw that the place was in confusion. Several trunks stood about, some half full, others empty, while on chairs and sofas in the reception hall and parlor were piles of clothing.
“Is anything the matter?” asked Ned.
“Mr. Kenfield has suddenly been called to Europe,” the girl said. “He has to go aboard the steamer to-night, and he must pack up at once. He has gone down town on a matter of business but he’ll soon be back. Your aunt is expecting you. She’s upstairs. I’ll show you.”
The girl led Ned to Mrs. Kenfield’s room.
“Oh, Ned, I had forgotten all about you!” his aunt exclaimed. “I’m so glad to see you, but I’m sorry we’re so upset. However, it will be over in a few hours, and when your uncle is off on the steamer you and I can sit down and talk. I want you to tell me all about Darewell and how your father is. I haven’t seen him in so long! My! but you’re the perfect image of him. How are you?”
“Very well, aunt,” Ned replied. “Can I do anything to help you?”
“No, we are almost packed, or, rather your uncle is. He has to take quite a lot of things, as he doesn’t know how long he may have to stay. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll see about another trunk.”
Mr. Kenfield returned to the house in about an hour and warmly welcomed his nephew. He expressed regret at the necessity which so unexpectedly called him abroad, and said his trip could not be postponed.
“But you will have a good time with your aunt,” he added with a smile. “She knows as much about New York as I do, and will have more opportunities to take you around.”
“Perhaps I had better telegraph the other boys not to come,” suggested Ned. “It may inconvenience you.”
“No, no; let them come and welcome!” exclaimed Mrs. Kenfield. “I love boys. We’ll have a fine time. I have lots of room, and I want you and your chums to enjoy this visit to New York.”
That night Mr. Kenfield, bidding his wife and nephew good-bye, went aboard the vessel which was to sail early in the morning to take advantage of the tide.
“Well, I suppose your uncle is well out on the ocean by this time,” remarked Mrs. Kenfield, after a somewhat late breakfast which she and Ned ate alone in the handsome dining room. “Now, Ned, will you excuse me for a few hours? I have some shopping to do, and I know you wouldn’t want to be going through the stores while I stop at the bargain counters,” and she laughed. “Try and make yourself at home here. Mary will get lunch for you, in case I am not back in time. To-morrow your chums will be here, and we must plan to entertain them.”
Ned said he would be glad to take a rest during the morning, and, after his aunt had left he went to the library to read. He could not get interested in books, however, with the big city of New York at hand.
“I think I’ll go out and get a paper, and see how my oil stock is getting along,” he said. “Maybe it’s advanced some more.”
Telling Mary, the maid, where he was going, and remarking that he would soon be back, Ned went out into the street. It was rather cold, but the sun was shining brightly and most of the snow had been cleared away. Ned got a paper and turned to the financial page. There, sure enough was the name, Mt. Olive Oil, and it was quoted at one dollar a share. Ned did not notice that it was in the column of “unlisted securities,” together with other stock of corporations, some selling as low as ten cents a share.
“I’m getting rich,” Ned murmured to himself. “Guess I’ll take another look at that certificate.”
He pulled it from his pocket, and, as he stood in the street reading it over he suddenly exclaimed:
“They’ve made a mistake. It’s only for one hundred shares instead of two hundred. I must go right down to the office and have it straightened out. It’s probably a clerical error.”
Though he said this to himself, it was with a vague feeling of uneasiness that Ned boarded a car to go to the offices of Skem & Skim. It must be an error, he repeated to himself, over and over again. Still he remembered what his father had said about “fake” companies. But this one had seemed substantial, and their offices certainly indicated that they did a big business. Ned was deposited by the elevator in the corridor opposite the glittering offices of Skem & Skim. He observed a number of persons standing before the entrance door.
“I tell you I will go in!” Ned heard one excited man exclaim. “They’ve got a thousand dollars of my money and I want it back.”
“Yes, and they’ve got five hundred of mine,” another man chimed in.
“I am sorry, gentlemen,” replied a third voice. “But the offices are closed. No one can go in until after an investigation.”
“By whose orders are they closed?” asked the man who had mentioned the thousand dollars.
“By the orders of the United States postal authorities,” was the answer. “A fraud order has been issued against Skem & Skim, and there is a warrant for their arrest on a charge of using the mails to swindle. They skipped out just before we got here this morning.”
“Can’t we get our money?” inquired half a dozen anxious ones.
“I’m afraid not,” was the reply from a small but determined looking man who stood before the door. “My assistant and I have charge of the offices. As soon as we can learn anything definite we will let you know.”
“Did they both get away?” asked some one of the postoffice inspector, for such the man in charge was.
“Yes, both Skem and Skim.”
“Their names ought to be Scheme and Skin,” said a man in a corner. “They skinned me out of three hundred dollars.”
“Any chance of getting ’em?” was the next inquiry of the inspector.
“We hope so. We are also looking for a young fellow who is supposed to hold two hundred shares of this wild-cat oil stock in the Mt. Olive well. As far as we can learn he is the only stockholder outside of Skem & Skim, and of course he’s liable if there’s any money in the concern. He may have a lot of the cash, which the firm got on other deals, salted away somewhere. He’s the one we want as badly as we do the other two. A young chap too, but as slick as they make ’em I’m told, even if he is a stranger here.”
Ned listened in wonder. He thought of his two hundred shares, and of the certificate in his pocket. He wondered if, by any possibility, he could be the one wanted.
“Who is this young fellow?” some one in the crowd asked.
“That’s what we’d like to find out,” the inspector replied. “He only got into New York yesterday, so one of my detectives informs me. Came from up state, or out west I hear. He’s the one I want, for he can tell a lot about this business. If I can lay hands on him I’ll clap him into a cell quicker than he can say Jack Robinson.”
“I wonder if he can mean me?” Ned thought, and his heart beat rapidly. “I came from up state yesterday. I got into New York yesterday, and I have two hundred shares of the Mt. Olive stock – at least I paid for ’em. But I don’t know any more about this business than the man in the moon. Still they may not believe me. I wonder if they would arrest me? Maybe it was against the law to buy the stock of a fraudulent concern. I wonder what I’d better do?”
“Yes, sir,” the inspector went on, speaking to the angry and defrauded investors, “once let me get my hands on this young fellow who has those two hundred shares and I’ll clear up some of this mystery. He and Skem & Skim worked the trick among themselves and now you gentlemen can whistle for your money.”
“I’d like to get one chance at that young fellow!” exclaimed the man who had lost the thousand dollars.
“So would I!” chimed in the others.
“They wouldn’t even give me an opportunity to explain,” thought Ned. “They’d lock me up at once, though I’m entirely innocent. I’m going to get away from here!”
Then, while the angry men were still talking to the postal inspector, Ned turned and hurried off. He was afraid to go down in the elevator lest the attendant might recognize him as the youth who was at the offices the day before, so he walked down the ten flights of stairs.
“I must hurry and tell my aunt all about it,” Ned thought. “She will know what I ought to do.”
CHAPTER XVI
ADRIFT IN NEW YORK
Puzzled, worried and not a little frightened at what the outcome of his investment might be, Ned boarded an elevated train for his aunt’s home. He was sure the inspector had referred to him, and, though he knew he had done nothing wrong, yet he admitted he was ignorant of the laws regarding stocks and bonds, and might have, unknowingly, acted illegally.
He had read of cases where the stockholders in a fraudulent concern were liable for the corporation’s debts, and, in fancy, he saw a suit started against himself. As he was a minor he thought his father would have to stand the damage. Poor Ned was in a highly nervous state when he went up the steps of his aunt’s home.
He began to imagine there might be a policeman waiting for him in the hall. He looked around as he reached the front door, expecting to see a blue-coated officer close at his heels. That there was a general alarm sent out for him he felt positive.
Something in Mary’s manner, as she opened the door in response to his ring, told him there was trouble in the house. The girl’s eyes showed she had been crying.
“Oh, Master Ned!” she exclaimed as he entered. “Isn’t it awful! To think of the trouble!”
“Why, how did you hear?” asked the boy, wondering if in the parlor there was an officer to arrest him.
“Why, ’twas a message we got, to be sure.”
“Then the postoffice authorities sent a letter here?” asked Ned, somewhat relieved to find he would not have to break to his aunt what he believed would be terrible news.
“No, dear,” Mrs. Kenfield called down from the head of the stairs. “It wasn’t a letter from the postoffice, it was a telegram. I have received bad news.”
“Oh, aunt, it wasn’t my fault at all!” burst out Ned. “I didn’t know about it, or I’d never have come to New York.”
“Of course it isn’t your fault,” his aunt said. “How could you know about it when I only got the telegram myself a little while ago? As for your coming to New York, that couldn’t be helped. Of course it’s too bad. But you can pay me another visit.”
Ned thought she meant he must hurry away to escape arrest.
“Are you almost packed up, Mrs. Kenfield?” asked Mary.
“Yes, almost. I shall want a little help. I must go at once.”
“Why – what – are you – I don’t understand – ” began Ned.
“Of course, just like women, to begin at the wrong end,” said Mrs. Kenfield, and Ned’s heart beat fast. He wondered if his aunt was going to reproach him for bringing disgrace on the family. He thought she would have to flee the city too, in order to avoid arrest. How he wished his uncle was at home to advise and help them.
“Do you have to go, aunt?” he asked. “Can’t I let ’em take me? I don’t mind.”
“No, it’s very good of you to offer, Ned. But I must go. They need me to help nurse her.”
“Help nurse,” repeated Ned, wondering if he had heard aright.
“Yes, didn’t Mary tell you? We have just received a telegram from my niece Jane Alden in Chicago. She has typhoid fever and I must go to her at once. She has no other relatives living and I must take care of her. I shall have to start at once and, as there is no telling when I will come back I must close up the house.”
“Close up the house,” Ned said.
“Yes, it will make lots of trouble, and I am so sorry that it will spoil the pleasure of yourself and your chums. But there is no help for it. I think you had better go back home, Ned. You and your friends can come and spend two months here next summer.”
“Is Mary going too?” asked Ned.
“Mary is going to stay with some relatives in Long Island until I come back. I have sent a cablegram explaining matters to your uncle and it will be waiting for him when his ship arrives on the other side. Oh, poor dear Jane! I hope her case is not a severe one. It is lucky I know how to nurse. She never could get along without me. I am sorry for you, Ned.”
Ned felt sorry for himself but he did not feel like inflicting his own troubles on his aunt. Still he did want some instructions about what he had better do. He was all upset and did not know whether to go home at once or wait until his aunt had started. He half resolved to tell her what had happened and ask her advice.
“Maybe she can send me to uncle’s lawyer and he can help me,” he said to himself. His aunt came downstairs at that moment and he decided to make an attempt to gain an idea of how to proceed.
“Do you know anything about stocks, aunt?” asked Ned.
“Stocks? Mercy, no! I leave all that to your uncle. I have trouble enough – ”
The door bell rang and Mrs. Kenfield opened it. A boy handed her a telegram. Her hands shook as she opened it.
“Jane is worse,” she said as she read the second brief dispatch. “I must hurry off soon. Now Ned, I can’t tell you how sorry I am, but you had better arrange to go home at once. I will take the noon train for Chicago. What time can you get one back to Darewell?”
“At four this afternoon.”
“Then you had better take it. Mary, hurry packing those trunks. Then get your own things ready.”
“Mine are all packed, Mrs. Kenfield,” the girl replied.
“All right then. See that the house is well locked up. Don’t leave any victuals around where they will spoil. Shut all the blinds and fasten the windows well. You can go any time you are ready, Mary.”
“I was going to the station with you and help you carry your valise.”
“Ned can do that. His train doesn’t go until four o’clock; can’t you, Ned?”
“Certainly, aunt.”
Ned’s chance to ask advice was gone for, following the receipt of the second telegram, his aunt was so excited about getting ready that he had no heart to bother her with his affair. He started every time the door bell rang, fearing the police might have traced him to his aunt’s house and would arrest him at any moment.
An expressman, who had been telephoned for, took two trunks belonging to Mrs. Kenfield. They were to go to Chicago. Mary’s was also shipped to her friends in Long Island. Ned was glad he had left his at the depot, as it could be checked back to his home from there.
Mary departed about ten o’clock. The house had been darkened by the closing of the shutters so that it was necessary to light the gas. Mrs. Kenfield went about making sure that all the doors were fastened.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” she said to Ned. “To think of your holiday being spoiled!”
“Don’t worry about that, aunt,” said the boy. “It couldn’t be helped.”
In fact he was thinking less about his broken holiday than he was about his own plight in the stock transaction. He felt the certificate rustle in his pocket when he moved, and he had half a mind to throw it away. But he feared lest doing that, even with the tearing of it into small bits, might lead to his discovery. He was too worried and excited to be able to think clearly.
“I guess we are all ready,” his aunt remarked as she stood in the hall. She had a small valise to carry, and Ned had the one he had brought from home.
“Be sure and explain to your father how it happened,” Mrs. Kenfield said. “Tell him about your uncle’s unexpected trip to Europe and about Jane Alden. He knew her quite well when he was a young man. Now I guess we will start. I like to be in plenty of time for my train. I hate to hurry at the last minute.”
Together they left the house, Ned carrying both valises. They boarded the elevated which ran near Mrs. Kenfield’s house and were soon on their way to the station where Ned’s aunt was to take her train.
The boy saw her safely aboard and bade her good-bye. She told him to write to her, and gave him her Chicago address.
“Tell your chums how sorry I was to disappoint them,” she called to Ned as her train rolled out of the depot.
“I will,” replied Ned.
Then, left alone as he was in the big city, he felt a sense of fear, and hardly knew what to do.
“Guess I’d better go straight back to Darewell and tell dad all about it,” he said to himself.
He was soon in the station at which he had arrived the day previous, and where he had left his trunk. As he was going to the baggage room, to have it rechecked to Darewell, he caught sight of a man who seemed strangely familiar to him. The man had his back toward Ned, but when he turned the boy saw it was the postal inspector who had been at the offices of Skem & Skim.
“He’s after me!” thought Ned. “He’s on my track! I must not let him see me.”
He turned suddenly away so the man could not observe his face. The inspector was talking to a policeman, and Ned overheard the bluecoat ask:
“Have you sent the telegram?”
“Yes, they’ll be on the watch for him if he goes back home,” was the reply. “They’ll nab him as soon as he gets off the train. If he calls for his baggage the agent here will hold him and notify me.”
Ned hurried from the depot and ran up the street as if the officer was after him. The last way of escape seemed closed.
