Kitabı oku: «The Missing Tin Box: or, The Stolen Railroad Bonds», sayfa 5
CHAPTER XIII.
HAL SHOWS HIS METTLE
Hal understood perfectly well that a crisis had come. Hardwick had him by the throat, and unless he acceded to the book-keeper's demand he would be in immediate danger of being choked to death.
"Let – let go of me," he gasped.
"Not until you do as I say," replied Hardwick. "I want you to understand that you can't get the best of me."
Hal tried to push Hardwick away, but the book-keeper made a pass at him with the heavy ruler.
"Keep quiet, if you value your head!" roared Hardwick.
"Let me go!"
"Not until you have told me what you mean by your doings."
"What doings?"
"Your doings up to Mrs. Ricket's."
"Who told you about what happened up there?"
"Never mind; I know all about it."
"Then Ferris saw you last night."
"No, he didn't."
"Or this morning."
"Shut up. You implicated me."
"Did Dick Ferris say I did?" asked Hal.
"Never mind who said so. I want to know what you mean by such work?"
Hal did not reply. He was trying to think. What was Ferris' object in telling Hardwick he had been mentioned in connection with the matter?
Clearly there could be but one reason. Ferris knew Hardwick already disliked Hal, and he wished to put the book-keeper against the youth, so as to get Hal into more difficulties.
"Do you hear me?" demanded Hardwick, giving Hal an extra squeeze on the throat.
"I do," gulped Hal. "Let – go – of me."
"Not until you have answered."
Hal commenced to struggle. Seeing this, Hardwick tried to strike him with the ruler, which, on account of its brass-bound edge, was an ugly weapon. The ruler came down twice, the second time cutting a gash on the youth's neck, from which the blood flowed copiously.
This last blow aroused all the lion in Hal's nature. As the reader knows, he was a well-built boy, and strong for his age. He gave a sudden wrench and broke away.
"Stand back!" he cried. "Don't you dare to touch me again!"
Hardwick glanced toward the door, to see that no one was coming.
"I'll show you!" he hissed, passionately.
He rushed at Hal again. The youth saw him coming, and, drawing back his arm, he planted a blow on Hardwick's nose that sent the blood spurting in all directions.
Hardwick was more surprised than hurt. Had that poor house chap dared to hit him? He turned first red and then white.
"I'll fix you!" he cried.
"Stand back, I tell you!" commanded Hal; he was getting excited himself.
But Hardwick would not stand back, and, as a consequence, he received a blow on the forehead that almost stunned him.
"You beggar, you've got muscle, haven't you?" he cried. "We'll try a different method with you."
He ran toward his desk, and opened it. An instant later Hal saw a revolver in his hand.
"Now we will see who is on top here," said Hardwick.
It would be useless to deny that Hal was frightened at the sight of the shining barrel. He backed several feet.
"I thought that would bring you to terms," said Hardwick. "Now, will you answer my question?"
"You will not dare to shoot me," returned the youth, as calmly as he could.
"Don't be too sure. I intend that you shall answer me."
Hal looked about him. He had backed toward the rear of the office. The window was unlocked. Could he leap through it?
Hardwick followed the youth's look and understood it.
"No, you don't," he said, and, moving toward the window, he locked it.
The only way that now remained to escape was by the street door. Hardwick placed himself in front of this.
"Give me the key to this door," he demanded.
The key hung on a nail close to where Hal was standing.
Instead of complying, Hal took down the key, and placed it in his pocket.
"Did you hear me?" went on the book-keeper.
"I did."
"You are playing with fire, young man."
"Am I?"
"You are. You think I haven't nerve enough to go ahead, but you'll find out your mistake. I'll give you just ten seconds in which to hand me that key."
Hal made no reply.
"Did you hear?"
"I did."
"Are you going to mind?"
"No."
Hardwick aimed the pistol at Hal's head. Whether or not he would have fired cannot be told, for at that instant the door opened, and Mr. Sumner stepped in.
"I forgot my – " he began, and then stopped short in amazement.
"Mr. Sumner!" cried Hal. "I am glad you have come."
"What is the meaning of this?" gasped the elderly broker.
He looked at Hardwick and then at the pistol.
The book-keeper dropped back, unable for the moment to say a word.
"He intended to shoot me," said Hal.
"That is a falsehood!" exclaimed Hardwick.
"It's the truth," retorted the youth.
"No such thing! The young tramp pulled this pistol, and I just snatched it away from him."
Hal was amazed at this deliberate falsehood. Mr. Sumner turned to him.
"Did you have that pistol first?" he asked.
"No, sir."
"I say he did," put in Hardwick.
"I never owned a pistol," added Hal.
"Then he must have stolen it," sneered Hardwick. "I tell you, Mr. Sumner, he is a bad egg, and he ought to be discharged."
"Perhaps," responded the elderly broker, dryly. "Just hand the weapon to me."
Hardwick did so, and Mr. Sumner examined it.
"Do you carry such a weapon?" he asked, shortly.
"No, sir."
"Don't own one, I presume?"
"I must say I do not."
"Humph! So you say Carson drew it on you?"
"He did."
"Mr. Sumner – " began Hal.
"Stop, Carson, until I get through with Mr. Hardwick. What was the cause of this quarrel?"
"The boy got impudent, and I threatened to report him and have him discharged."
"Is that all?"
"Yes. He is an unmannerly dog."
"I didn't think so when I hired him."
"He is, Mr. Sumner."
The elderly broker examined the pistol again.
"I wish you would explain one thing to me, Mr. Hardwick," he said slowly.
"What is that, sir?"
"It is this: If you do not own a pistol how does it happen that I saw this very weapon in your desk over a week ago?"
The book-keeper started back and changed color.
"What – what do you mean?" he faltered.
"Just what I say. About a week ago I had occasion to go to your desk for a certain paper, and I saw this very weapon lying in one corner."
"There – there must be some mistake."
"None, sir. This is your pistol, and I believe you pulled it upon this boy."
Hal's face beamed. The cloud that had gathered so suddenly seemed to be breaking away.
"Why should I draw it on the young cub?" growled Hardwick, not knowing exactly what to say.
"Because you have a spite against Carson, and you wish to get him into trouble. I used to think you a fair and square man, Hardwick, but I find I am mistaken."
CHAPTER XIV.
HAL EXPRESSED HIS OPINION
The perspiration was standing out upon Mr. Sumner's forehead. He took out his handkerchief and mopped himself. Hardwick shot an angry glance at him.
"I don't see what you find so interesting in the boy," he muttered.
"I am interested in him because he saved my life."
"Saved your life?"
"Exactly. It is true that he came from the poor-house, but he is a young hero, and I will not have him imposed on, especially when he is doing his best to get along."
"Well, every one to his taste," returned Hardwick.
"I want none of your impudence," cried the broker. "You were not as much of a man as this boy when I took you in, eight years ago."
"Thanks," returned Hardwick, coolly. "Perhaps you would just as soon I would quit your service?"
"I would."
"Then I will quit on the first of the year."
"You will quit to-day, and without recommendations."
"Without recommendations!"
"Yes. Let me tell you something. All last evening and this morning early I spent the time examining your books. I find you have made false entries, how many I do not know, and that you are a defaulter in the sum of several thousands of dollars."
Hal was almost as much surprised at Mr. Sumner's statement as Hardwick.
"You – have – examined – the – books?" said the book-keeper, slowly.
"I have."
Hardwick breathed hard. It was a terrible blow Mr. Sumner had dealt him. He had supposed his little crooked actions in the office well hidden from prying eyes.
"You may have to prove what you say," he exclaimed, haughtily.
"I can easily do so," returned Mr. Sumner, coolly. "Shall I send for an officer to take charge of you in the meanwhile?"
At the mention of an officer, Hardwick grew white, and his lips trembled.
"N-no!" he cried. "There must be some mistake."
"There is no mistake whatever. Do you deny that you have appropriated the bank funds of the firm – "
"Mr. Allen gave me the right to – "
"Mr. Allen had no rights, as you are aware. Our partnership is a limited one, and I shall settle with Mr. Allen later."
"You can't hold me accountable for that money."
"I can, but I won't, for I imagine the greater part of it has been spent. How much have you in your pocket now?"
"Sir!"
"You heard my question; answer me."
"I will not! I'm no fool!"
"Very well. Hal, will you call a policeman?"
Hal started for the door. Hardwick caught him by the arm, and shoved him back.
"Stay here! There is my pocket-book."
"Hal, you may remain." Mr. Sumner took the pocket-book and counted the money in it. "A hundred and eighty dollars," he went on. "Have you any more with you?"
"No."
"Is that a genuine diamond you are wearing?"
"Yes."
"What is it worth?"
"It cost seventy-five dollars."
"Then listen to me; I have found out that you are a pretty high liver, Hardwick, and you have probably squandered nearly all of what you have stolen – "
"Look here, I – "
"Stop, or Hal shall go at once for the officer. Now, what I propose to do is this: I will keep this money and that pin and the one hundred and twenty-five dollars of salary coming to you and let the matter drop, so far as that crookedness in the books is concerned."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then Hal shall go for an officer, and you can stand trial."
Hardwick muttered something under his breath, not at all complimentary to his employer. He felt that he was in a tight place.
"There is no alternative?" he asked.
"None."
"And you will let this matter rest?"
"Yes. I wish to give you a chance to turn over a new leaf, if there is any turn over in you."
Hardwick hesitated for a moment.
"I accept," he said, doggedly.
"Very well, hand over the pin."
The diamond scarf pin was transferred to the broker's hand.
"Here is your pocket-book and ten dollars. I don't wish to see you go away without a cent."
"Keep the money; you might as well rob me of all of it," exclaimed Hardwick. He reached for his hat and coat. "You will rue this day, Horace Sumner; mark my word for it. And you, you young tramp!" – Hardwick turned to Hal – "I will get square, and don't you forget it."
He went out, slamming the door behind him. Hal watched him from the window, and saw him turn down Broad Street.
Mr. Sumner gave a long sigh.
"I am glad I am rid of that man," he said.
"So am I," responded Hal. "He is a worse villain than you think, Mr. Sumner."
The elderly broker smiled faintly.
"You still think him connected with the disappearance of the tin box, I suppose."
"I do."
"The police are almost certain they are on the right track of the criminal. I cannot give you the details, but the party is not Hardwick."
"The police don't know everything. Hardwick is thoroughly bad, and he is in league with Dick Ferris and Mr. Allen."
"You speak very positively, Hal."
"Because I know what I am speaking about, sir."
"You say Hardwick is in with Dick Ferris?"
"Yes, sir."
"How do you know?"
"Because they formed a plot to have me arrested. But that is not the worst of it. Hardwick made an attempt on my life because I followed him."
"Is it possible?" Mr. Sumner was now thoroughly interested. "Why did you not tell me of this before?"
"Because I wished to follow out the matter on my own hook, and, besides, I am almost a stranger to you, and you might think I was making up a yarn."
"No, Hal, I trust you thoroughly. I don't know why, but you have something about you that seems perfectly honest."
"Thank you." The youth was blushing. "I will never deceive you, Mr. Sumner, and you may depend on it."
"Tell me about this attempt on your life?" said the broker.
Standing by Mr. Sumner's desk, Hal related very nearly all that had occurred since his first appearance at the office. The broker listened with eager attention.
"You are right," he said, when Hal had concluded. "And apparently Ferris is as bad a villain as Hardwick. But how do you account for Mr. Allen being in with them?"
"On account of that conversation I overheard on the ferry-boat that night. They may try to explain it away as they please, I am convinced that they were talking of robbing your private safe."
"But Mr. Allen comes of very fine connections – " began the broker.
"That may be, but didn't you just say he didn't do just right?"
"So I did, and it is true. But that might be put down to a mere matter of sharp business practice, legally right if not morally so. But this other – "
And the elderly broker shook his head.
"If a man will cheat legally, I don't think he will stop at cheating any other way," replied Hal. "He may for a while, but his conscience soon gets blunted, and that's the end of it. You say the police think somebody else is guilty?"
"Yes."
"Do they think the thief came through the window?"
"Yes."
"That the man who came in while I was here had nothing to do with it?"
"That is their theory."
"But that doesn't explain one point."
"And what is that?"
"Why the marks on the window-sill, which are very plain and made by dirt and ashes, did not extend to the safe."
"Didn't they?"
"No."
"Humph! Who discovered that?"
"I did."
"When?"
"The day the two detectives were here."
"Did you say anything about it?"
"No, sir."
"Why not?"
"Because, as I said before, I wished to sift the matter myself, if I could. I know I am nothing but a boy, but I intend to do all I can toward getting back your bonds."
"Well, you are smart, Hal, there is no denying that. What is your opinion of the marks?"
"I think they were only a blind."
"Put there to form a wrong impression?"
"Exactly, sir. That robbery was committed by somebody who came in through the office, and who knew the combination of the safe."
"Possibly. But that doesn't fasten the crime on Hardwick."
"It does not. But I look at it in this light. As one of the detectives said, it is possible that somebody stood outside of the rear window and saw you work the combination, but I doubt very much if they could learn the process in that way. There is a glare of light on the window that renders it very difficult to see at all."
"Yes, but – "
"Now wait a moment, please," Hal was growing enthusiastic. "Do you keep the combination written down anywhere?"
"I do not. I gave it to my daughter, Laura, in case something happened to me, and I suppose she has it down, but I do not know."
"Then it isn't likely any one could get the combination unless they watched you?"
"I suppose not."
"Very well. Now, the only persons employed in the office were you, Mr. Allen, Hardwick, Ferris and myself. I know you and I are innocent. Now, who knew of the bonds being in the tin box?"
Mr. Sumner started.
"By Jove! I never thought of that!"
"Please answer me."
"We all knew of it."
"Did any outsider know?"
"I think not."
"Was the tin box locked?"
"Yes."
"After you placed the bonds in it no outsider heard of their being there?"
"Not unless the others told them."
"Which they would not likely do. Now, tell me, was anything else taken?"
"Not a thing."
"Not even placed out of position?"
"As far as I could see, no."
"Was there any trace of the tin box having been opened?"
Mr. Sumner shook his head.
"Doesn't it seem probable that if the thieves had not been certain of what was in the box they would have opened it, and if they were ordinary fellows that they would have taken something else of value?"
"Hal, you ought to be a detective!" cried the broker, in admiration of the body's logical reasoning.
"I tell you that robbery was committed by somebody who knew all about your private affairs, and was here to obtain the combination of your safe, and that somebody was either Hardwick, Mr. Allen, Ferris, or else the three of them."
CHAPTER XV.
HAL DEFENDS A GIRL
Hal Carson's face glowed with earnestness as he spoke.
It was easy to see that he was fully convinced of the truth of what he had just said.
"It would seem as if you must be right," replied Mr. Sumner, after rather a long pause.
"You may depend on it I am, sir."
"But to think that of Allen!"
"Many a man in a high position has fallen before now. Did you ever inquire into his financial standing – that is, outside of your business relationships?"
"No."
"Then he may not be as well fixed as you think. Could he use the bonds, if he had them?"
"Yes. They were not registered, and there are several ways in which they might have been worked off."
"You are to dissolve partnership on New Year's Day, I believe?"
"Yes. I am not satisfied with the way matters are running, and I intend to run the place alone as I used to."
"Perhaps the dissolution may bring other matters to light, sir."
"Ha! I never thought of that."
"That is, if Mr. Allen doesn't wipe them out in the meantime."
Mr. Sumner jumped to his feet, and began to walk up and down nervously.
"I understand what you are driving at, Hal," he cried. "Where do you get such keen wit? I never saw your equal in a boy."
"I don't know, sir, unless it may be because I take such a strong personal interest in the matter – a thing that most detectives do not."
"It must be that I must have the books investigated by an expert; I am too old to go over them myself and do the work as it ought to be done."
"I think that would be best, but I would not let Mr. Allen know of it."
"I will not."
"Not even if you find he has been robbing you."
"What!"
"No."
"But he ought to be arrested – "
"Not until you have your bonds back, Mr. Sumner."
"I see."
"If you arrest him that won't bring your bonds back. I have a plan to propose, if you will let me carry it out."
"What is it?"
"That while I nominally remain here as clerk and office-boy you allow me to watch him, as well as Hardwick and Dick Ferris."
"You may get into trouble. See how Hardwick threatened you and attacked you in the dark."
"I am not afraid, sir."
"I would not have you go on such a mission for me and get hurt for all the bonds on the street."
"I would be very careful, sir."
"Well, supposing I let you do that, what would you do first?"
"That will depend on circumstances. Where is Mr. Allen now?"
"Gone to Philadelphia on business."
"For the firm?"
"No, for himself."
"Then you are not sure if he has gone there or not?"
"I only know what he said."
"When do you expect him back?"
"Not until to-morrow."
"Will you tell me where he lives?"
"On Fifty-third Street. The number is on the card over there."
Hal took it down.
"Is there anything special to do just now?"
"I must have those papers written up that Hardwick was at work on. The books I can write up myself."
"Then, with your permission, I'll write up the papers and then begin my hunt."
"Very well. But mind and keep out of trouble."
Hal smiled, and turned at once to the desk. A strange feeling filled his breast. He was really going to turn detective – he, a country boy, and that, too, in New York.
"It sounds like the wildest kind of a romance," he thought to himself. "But it isn't; it's sober truth, and I may find it a mighty hard truth before I get through."
He fairly flew at the work, and by two o'clock it was finished. He handed it to Mr. Sumner.
"That is excellent," said the broker, glancing over the written pages. "And now I suppose you are ready to go?"
"If you are willing, sir."
"There is nothing more to be done to-day. To-morrow I shall get a first-class book-keeper whom I happen to know, to take Hardwick's place."
In a minute more Hal was off. He knew not exactly in what direction to go, but thought he would cross Broadway and take the Sixth Avenue elevated cars to Fifty-third Street.
As he stepped on the sidewalk in front of Trinity Church, which stands at the beginning of Wall Street, he happened to glance up, and not far away saw Hardwick.
The ex-book-keeper was smoking a cigar and scowling. He did not see Hal, and the youth soon put himself where he was not likely to be seen.
Five minutes passed. Then Hardwick began to move slowly up Broadway, casting sharp glances to his right and left. Hal slowly followed, keeping several people between himself and the man he was shadowing.
At length Hardwick stopped at the corner of Cedar Street. Here he was joined by Dick Ferris, and the two at once began an animated conversation, which Hal managed to overhear.
"Got the bounce?" were the first words he heard. "Well, that's rich, Hardwick."
"I don't see the point," growled the ex-book-keeper. "I wish I had fixed the young tramp!"
"He seems to be worrying us pretty bad," said Ferris. "But, say, how about that money I was to have?"
"I can't give it to you now."
"Why not?"
"I haven't got it."
"Tell that to your grandmother!"
"It's a fact. Old Sumner made me fork over every cent I had about me."
"What for?"
"He claims I have been getting in on him."
"I'll bet he's right, too."
"Well, he isn't."
"No, of course not," returned Ferris, sarcastically. "A fellow who would – "
"Shut up, you monkey!" cried Hardwick, getting angry. "You know too much."
"Well, when am I to have that money?"
"To-morrow."
"Sure?"
"Yes. I'll get it for you."
"What will you do – bleed old Allen?"
"Never mind, I'll get it, and that's enough. By the way, I want you to do something for me."
"What is it?"
"Deliver a letter to Tommy Macklin. I have got an engagement to-night, and I want Tommy to get the letter before morning."
"All right. Hand it over. Where are you going now?"
"Home to get shaved and fixed up and have a nap. I was up all night, and I feel it."
"You're going it pretty strong."
"Don't preach, Dicky, my boy. For your age, I think you go it pretty well yourself."
Ferris laughed and stuffed the letter Hardwick handed him into his pocket. Then the two separated.
Hal pondered for a moment, and then concluded to follow Dick Ferris. Hardwick was going home, "I wish I knew what was in that letter," thought Hal, as he shadowed Ferris up Broadway to Park Row. "It may be something that has to do with the missing tin box."
Ferris passed the entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge, and then turned into a side street.
"I'll wager he's going to the same place Hardwick visited the other night," exclaimed Hal to himself.
With increased interest he followed Ferris, until the latter came to a narrow and dirty alley-way, piled high on one side with empty boxes and barrels.
Here a number of children were playing, some making snow-men and others coasting on home-made "bread-shovel" sleds.
Ferris tried to walk between them, and in doing so got directly in the way of a small sled upon which was seated a ragged girl not over ten years of age.
The sled brushed against Ferris' leg and angered him.
"What do you mean by doing that, you dirty thing?" he exclaimed. "Take that, and learn better manners."
He hauled off and struck the girl in the face. It was a heavy blow, and it caused her nose to bleed and her cheek to swell.
"You – you brute!" sobbed the girl.
"What's that?" howled Ferris. "A brute, am I? There's another for you!"
He stepped back to hit the girl again. But now there was a rush from the rear, and on the instant the bully found himself in the strong grasp of Hal Carson.
