IN WHICH MRS. VERNON IS MISSING.
Robert reached home about one o'clock, which was the usual hour that Mrs. Vernon and himself had lunch. He found the lady had not yet returned.
"I am in no hurry, Martha," he said. "I will go into the office and write some letters."
The letters took nearly an hour to finish, and by that time our hero felt decidedly hungry. Mrs. Vernon had told him never to wait over half an hour for a meal, so he now ordered lunch for himself alone.
"That meeting probably took longer than expected," he thought. "Perhaps she is having a whole lot of trouble with the other stockholders. I wish I could help her."
Slowly the afternoon wore away, and still Mrs. Vernon did not put in an appearance. Robert went out for another walk, and did not come back until six o'clock, the regular dinner hour.
"Not back yet, Martha?" was his first question, on returning.
"No, Mr. Frost."
"It is queer."
"Shall I have dinner served?"
"No, I will wait half an hour."
"It's too bad. The roast will be overdone, I am afraid."
"Well, it probably cannot be helped."
Robert drifted into the library, and selecting a volume of Cooper's works, sat down in an easy chair to read. But he could not fasten his attention on the story, and soon cast the volume aside.
"Is it possible that anything has happened to Mrs. Vernon?" was the question which he asked himself over and over again.
He thought of Frederic Vernon and Dr. Remington, and of what Dick Marden had said.
"Would Frederic Vernon dare to do anything?" he asked himself.
The evening passed slowly and painfully. As hour after hour went by Robert began to pace the floor nervously. He felt "in his bones," as the saying is, that something was wrong, but he could not exactly imagine what.
When the clock struck eleven he could stand the suspense no longer. He summoned Martha.
"I am going out to look for Mrs. Vernon," he said. "If she comes in in the meantime tell her not to worry about me."
"Very well," answered the maid.
Robert had decided to call first at the Masonic Temple, a large business building situated in the heart of Chicago. It was in the Temple that the offices were located which Mrs. Vernon had started to visit early that morning.
He rode the greater part of the distance and reached the office building shortly before midnight. The ground floor was still open, but the great majority of the offices were dark.
Approaching one of the hallmen he asked about the meeting of the manufacturing company.
"I don't know anything about that," was the answer. "But Joe Dolan does. I'll call him."
"The meeting broke up about noon," said Joe Dolan, when summoned.
"Do you remember Mrs. Vernon?"
"I don't know the lady by name. How was she dressed?"
As well as he was able, Robert described the lady's appearance.
"Oh, yes, I know her now," cried Joe Dolan. "There were only two ladies, you see, and the other was short and stout."
"Well, what became of Mrs. Vernon?"
"She went out ahead of the others."
"Alone?"
"Yes."
"Do you know what direction she took?"
"I do not."
"Are you sure she did not come back?"
"I didn't see anything of her, and I've been around ever since."
"Are the offices locked up?"
"Yes, and have been ever since five o'clock. No one but Mr. Smith has been in them since three o'clock."
"Then she must certainly have gone somewhere else."
"Do you calculate there is anything wrong?" said the janitor, with interest.
"I don't know what to think. She said she would return home from here, and she hadn't got back up to eleven o'clock."
"That looks bad."
"Of course something else may have come up that is keeping her away."
"That is so."
Thanking the janitor for his information, Robert left the Masonic Temple and walked up the street. He scarcely knew what to do next.
He would have called upon Mr. Farley for advice, but knew that the lawyer's offices were closed, and he had not the man's home address.
Hoping that Mrs. Vernon had returned to the mansion on Prairie Avenue, he returned. It was now nearly one o'clock, and it must be confessed that Robert was sleepy.
Martha had gone to bed, but William the butler sat dozing in a hall chair.
"No, she isn't home yet," said the butler, in reply to our hero's question. "I never knew her to stay out so late before, excepting when she went to a ball or something like that."
"There is something wrong, that is certain," said Robert. "I have half a mind to call on the police for aid."
"Better wait, Mr. Frost. It may be all right, and if the police were called in the newspapers might make a big sensation of it. And you know how much Mrs. Vernon dislikes scandals." The butler did not mention Frederic Vernon's doings, but he had them in mind, and Robert understood.
Our hero slept but little that night, and was up and dressed long before the usual breakfast hour. He passed to Mrs. Vernon's apartments, to find them still empty.
"I will go down to Mr. Farley's and have a talk with him," he told himself, and left the house in time to reach the lawyer's offices at nine o'clock--for he knew Mr. Farley would not be there earlier.
"This is certainly strange, Frost," said the lawyer, with a grave look on his face.
"I don't like it at all."
"Nor I, especially as I saw that nephew of hers in town yesterday morning."
"What, Frederic Vernon?"
"Yes."
"Then he is to blame for his aunt's disappearance," said Robert bitterly.
"What makes you think that?"
"I may as well tell you the truth, Mr. Farley, although I trust you will let the thing go no further. I believe you do not know exactly what reasons Mrs. Vernon had for going to England so suddenly."
"I know she had some trouble with her nephew."
"Frederic Vernon was plotting to put her into an insane asylum."
"You don't mean it, Frost!" gasped the lawyer.
"I do mean it. He had his plans all arranged, when I got wind of it, told Mrs. Vernon, and she left, without letting her nephew know anything about it."
"In that case, Frederic Vernon must be accountable for her present disappearance."
"I am half of a mind that that is so. The thing of it is, to catch the young man and prove it."
"That is so."
"If we catch him he may deny everything, unless he is certain he can make out a case of insanity against her."
"But she is no more insane than you or I!" cried Mr. Farley.
"I agree with you. But Frederic Vernon had a tool, a certain Dr. Remington, who was willing to swear that Mrs. Vernon was of unsound mind."
"It is a dastardly plot, and the man who invented it ought to be in prison."
"Mrs. Vernon hated publicity or anything in the nature of a family scandal. That is why she suffered so much in silence."
"We ought to find this Frederic Vernon at once."
"That is so."
"If you agree with me, we will put a private detective on his track. I know a reliable man, who knows when to talk and when to keep his mouth shut."
"Then that is the man to get. It would be foolish to allow Mrs. Vernon's enemies more time than necessary. They may be carrying her off to a great distance."
Mr. Farley was quick to act, and soon he and Robert were on the way to the place where Detective Brossom could be found.
As much as was necessary was told to the detective, and he was given a description of Frederic Vernon and also a list of the resorts which the spendthrift had been in the habit of frequenting.
"If he's in Chicago I'll run him down all right enough," said Brossom. "If I am not mistaken I've met him at one of the clubs, when I was running down Carew the bank wrecker."
"Of course we may be mistaken, and Mrs. Vernon may return home to-day," said Robert. "If she does, I will send word to this place immediately."
DOCTOR RUSHWOOD'S SANITARIUM.
Mrs. Vernon's house was built in the shape of a letter L, the lady's wing containing the library and business office downstairs and private apartments on the second floor.
When Robert let himself into the house he entered the library to find out if the lady had yet returned.
Nothing was disturbed, and he was about to walk into the business office, when on looking out on the street he saw Frederic Vernon standing behind a nearby tree, watching the mansion closely.
"Hullo," cried Robert to himself. "What is he up to now?"
At first he thought to go out and hail Vernon, but quickly changed his mind.
"I'll get nothing out of him by questioning him," he reasoned. "It will pay far better to watch him and see what he does and where he goes."
A few minutes after our hero had discovered Vernon, he saw the spendthrift hurry swiftly for the wing of the house and try the window to the business office.
The sash was locked, but by inserting a knife blade between the upper and lower sashes he was enabled to push the catch back.
This done the lower sash was raised, and Frederic Vernon crawled into the business office as silently as a cat.
"He is up to no good," said our hero to himself. "I believe he is here to steal something."
There was a large Turkish chair handy, and Robert crouched behind this, that Frederic Vernon might not see him should he take a peep into the library.
"Don't seem to be anybody around," he heard Vernon mutter, as he looked into the library. "Frost must be off trying to hunt the old woman up."
Vernon tiptoed his way to Mrs. Vernon's desk, and, unlocking it, slid back the roller top.
The movement surprised Robert, for he had thought that only Mrs. Vernon and himself had keys to the desk.
"Perhaps he is using Mrs. Vernon's key," he thought.
With great rapidity Frederic Vernon went through several drawers full of papers.
"Pshaw! The papers must be in the safe," he murmured, and leaving the desk he approached the safe, which stood in a corner. Getting down on his knees he began to work at the combination.
"Thirty-five twice, twelve three times," he murmured, repeating what had once been the combination of the lock.
But Mrs. Vernon had had Robert to change the combination just before starting for England, and consequently Frederic Vernon failed to get the door open.
He fussed with the combination for a quarter of an hour, getting more angry over his failure every minute.
"Confound the luck, they must have changed it," he muttered. "I wish I dared to tackle Frost about it. But I am not quite ready for that. Perhaps I can make her give me the combination."
Robert did not hear the last words, yet he felt pretty certain that Frederic Vernon was responsible for his aunt's disappearance, and knew where she was.
He was half of a mind to call in a policeman, yet he was afraid that Vernon might in some manner give the officer of the law the slip.
"And if he is locked up now he may deny knowing anything about his aunt," was the boy's conclusion.
At last Vernon left the safe and went to the desk once more. Here he selected several papers and rammed them in his pocket. Then, without warning, he slipped out of the window again, closed the sash, and started down the street at a brisk pace.
"I'll follow him," said Robert to himself. "And I won't leave him out of sight until I've found out what has become of Mrs. Vernon."
Running into the upper hallway Robert saw on a rack an old overcoat he had once worn and a slouch hat which had belonged to another inmate of the mansion.
He donned these, pulling the hat far down over his forehead, and the coat up around his neck. Then he put on a pair of blue glasses which Mrs. Vernon had used on the sea voyage to protect her eyes from the glare of the sun on the water.
Thus partially disguised, he made after Frederic Vernon, who had now reached the block below the house.
Here Vernon took a passing car and took a seat inside.
Running rapidly, Robert managed to catch the car, and took a position on the rear platform, with his back to the interior, that the young spendthrift might not see his face.
The car was one running well on toward the southern outskirts of Chicago, and Vernon remained in it until the very end of the line was gained.
Then he walked on once more, with Robert still dogging his footsteps, but so carefully that the young man never suspected he was being followed. Once he looked back, but our hero promptly stepped out of sight behind a nearby billboard.
In this district the houses were much scattered, and most of them were surrounded by large gardens.
Frederic Vernon passed into a side street which was little better than a road, and soon reached a large square building of stone, set in a perfect wilderness of trees and bushes. A high iron fence surrounded the ill-kept garden, and the single iron gate was locked.
Ringing a bell at the gate, Frederic Vernon thus summoned a porter, who came, and after asking him a few questions, let him in.
Approaching the gate, Robert saw a sign over it, in gilt letters, which read in this fashion:
Dr. Nicholas Rushwood,Private Sanitarium for the Weak-Minded.
Dr. Nicholas Rushwood,Private Sanitarium for the Weak-Minded.
Peering through the ironwork, our hero saw Frederic Vernon follow the porter up the steps of the stone building and disappear inside.
"This must be the place to which Mrs. Vernon has been taken," thought Robert.
He waited at the gate for awhile to see if Frederic Vernon would come out, but the young spendthrift failed to put in an appearance.
The sanitarium was located on a corner, and ran from one street to the next, so that our hero could walk around three sides of the place. On the other side was a high stone wall, which separated the asylum grounds from those of a well-kept garden.
All of the windows on the second and third stories of the stone building were very closely barred.
"They must keep the patients up there," concluded Robert.
He gazed sharply at each window, but though he saw several men and women, he did not catch sight of Mrs. Vernon.
Presently a butcher boy came along the back street, a large basket on his arm.
"Can you tell me what place this is?" questioned Robert.
"That's Dr. Rushwood's asylum for crazy folks," answered the butcher boy.
"Has he many patients?"
"Ten or a dozen, I believe."
"Were you ever inside of the place?"
"I used to deliver meat there. But our firm don't serve him any more."
"And what kind of a place is it?"
"It's a gloomy hole, and the doctor is a terror."
"A terror? What do you mean by that?"
"He's awfully strict and awfully mean. Some folks say he don't give the crazy folks half enough to eat. He was always kicking about his meat bill. That's the reason our firm stopped serving him."
"Did you see them taking anybody new into there lately?"
"No, but I heard Jack Mason telling that he saw them taking a woman in there last night."
"A young woman or an elderly lady?"
"Jack said it was an oldish-looking woman, and said she was very handsomely dressed."
"What time was this?"
"About six o'clock last night. They brought her in a coach, and two men were with her. But what do you ask all these questions for?"
"I have my reasons. A lady has disappeared and I am looking for her."
"Christopher! Did they abduct her?"
"I don't know. I am much obliged to you," returned Robert, and to avoid being questioned further he sauntered off. He did not go far, however, and as soon as the butcher boy was gone, he returned to the vicinity of the sanitarium.
It was now growing dusk, and watching his chance he climbed to the top of the stone wall which divided the asylum grounds from that of the garden next door. The top of the wall was rough, but with care he managed to walk from one end to the other.
While he was on the wall he heard the gate bell ring, and crouched down to get out of sight. The porter admitted two men, but who they were Robert could not see.
From the wall Robert could easily look into the lower windows of the building. One room into which he gazed was fitted up as a library, and as he gazed into it the door opened and four men entered.
The four men were Frederic Vernon, Dr. Remington, and two others, the keeper of the asylum and a second physician.
FREDERIC VERNON'S DEMANDS.
The window to the room was closed so that Robert could not hear what the four men said.
He, however, saw them talking earnestly, and then saw one of the strangers, probably the doctor who ran the asylum, bring out a legal-looking document. This Frederic Vernon urged Dr. Remington and the second stranger to sign.
"It must be the certificate to prove that Mrs. Vernon is insane," thought Robert. "I believe such a document has to be signed by two doctors, and Frederic Vernon is urging Remington and that other physician to do the dirty work for him." Robert's surmise was correct, as later events proved.
Remington did not wish to give the certificate until he was certain that Frederic Vernon would pay over the ten thousand dollars which had been promised to him.
"I've got to have my pay," he said, in a low but earnest manner.
"You'll get it," returned Vernon. "You can trust me."
"Humph! I trusted you before," growled the doctor.
"Well, you know why I went off--merely to induce my aunt to return to Chicago."
"Your money will be safe."
"And how about my money?" put in the second physician.
"You shall be paid, Dr. Carraway."
"You must remember that it is a ticklish business, this signing a certificate when the party isn't--ahem--just as bad as she might be."
"And I must have my money," put in Dr. Rushwood. "I am running a risk, too."
"What risk will you run if you have your certificate?" questioned Frederic Vernon. "You can fall back on that in case of trouble."
"Mrs. Vernon's friends may have us all arrested for conspiracy. It's a big risk."
"Well, every man of you shall be paid," said Frederic Vernon. "As soon as the excitement of the affair blows over, I'll take charge of all my aunt's property and then I'll have money to burn, and lots of it. Why, she's worth half a million."
So the talk ran on, until Dr. Remington and Dr. Carraway agreed to sign the certificate, and did so. This paper was then turned over to Dr. Rushwood, who placed it on file in his safe. Following this the keeper of the asylum brought out some wine and cigars, and half an hour was spent in general conversation.
Then Frederic Vernon said he would like to talk to his aunt for awhile.
Dr. Rushwood led the way to an apartment on the third floor. The room had once been well furnished, but the furnishings were now dilapidated, the carpet being worn threadbare and the furniture being scratched and broken. One small window lit up the apartment, and this was closely barred.
Frederic Vernon knocked on the door, but received no answer.
"Can I come in, aunt?" asked the young spendthrift.
At once there was a rustle in the room.
"Yes, Frederic, come in," came in Mrs. Vernon's voice.
Dr. Rushwood opened the door and the young man entered. Then the doctor locked the door again.
"When you want to get out just call me," he said significantly, and walked away.
"Frederic, what does this mean?" demanded Mrs. Vernon. By her face it was plain to see that she had been weeping.
"Don't excite yourself, aunt," responded the young rascal soothingly. "It is all for the best."
"What is for the best?" demanded the lady.
"That you are here."
"But I do not wish to be here, and you have no right to place me here."
"It is for your good, aunt."
"I understand you, Frederic, but let me tell you your wicked plot against me shall not succeed."
"I have no plot against you, aunt. If you wish to know the truth, let me tell you that your mind is not just what it should be. For a long while you have imagined that I was your enemy, while all your friends know that I have been your best friend."
"Indeed! Were you my friend when you forged my name to that check for six hundred dollars?"
Frederic Vernon winced, but quickly recovered.
"You do me a great injustice when you say I forged your name. I was never guilty of any such baseness."
"I know better."
"That is only another proof of your hallucination, aunt. But the doctor says if you will submit to his treatment you will be quite cured in a few months."
"I need no treatment, for my mind is as clear as yours, perhaps clearer. I want you and those wicked men who helped place me here to let me go."
"Such a course is impossible, and you must make yourself content with your surroundings. The room is not furnished as nicely as you may wish, but I will have all that changed in a day or two, as soon as I can get my other affairs straightened out."
"You will profit nothing by your high-handed course, Frederic. In the past I have been very indulgent toward you, but if you insist upon keeping me here against my will, when once I do get free I will let the law take its course."
The lady spoke so sharply and positively that Frederic Vernon was made to feel decidedly uncomfortable. He had carried matters with a high hand, and he realized that should the game go against him, the reckoning would be a bitter one.
"I would let you go, aunt, but I am certain I am acting for your own good. And now I want to talk business to you."
"If you do not give me my freedom I do not wish to say another word," answered the lady shortly.
"You must give me the combination of your safe."
"So that you can rob me again, eh? No, I will do nothing of the sort."
Frederic Vernon's face grew dark.
"You had better not defy me, aunt. I am bound to have the combination sooner or later."
"You will not get from me. Nor from Robert, either, I am thinking."
"I will get it somehow."
"Will you send Robert or Mr. Farley to me?"
"I cannot do that--just yet."
"Why not--if you are honest in your actions toward me?"
"Because it is against the doctor's orders. He says you must remain very quiet. It is the only hope of restoring you to your full mental health again."
"Very well then, Frederic. But remember what I said. If I ever get away again you shall suffer the full penalty of the law."
"You won't give me that combination?"
"No."
Mrs. Vernon remained obdurate, and a little while later the young man called Dr. Rushwood.
"You must be careful and watch her closely," said Frederic Vernon to the keeper of the asylum, as the pair walked downstairs. "She is clever, and will try to get the best of you if she can."
Dr. Rushwood smiled grimly.
"Don't worry about me, Vernon," he replied. "I've never yet had one of them to get the best of me."
"I am afraid it will take several days to break her down. At present I can do nothing with her."
"Perhaps I had better put her on a diet of bread and water. That sometimes fetches them," suggested the keeper of the asylum brutally.
"I am afraid she may do something desperate. She is a nervous, high-strung woman, remember."
"I've had all kinds to deal with, and I never miss it in judging them. You just leave the whole thing to me. When will you come again?"
"That must depend upon circumstances. Perhaps to-morrow afternoon."
"Will you take charge of her affairs at once?"
"I must feel my way before I do that. You see my aunt had a private secretary. He is nothing but a boy, but he may cause us a lot of trouble."
"Better discharge him at once, then, and make him turn over all his private business to you."
"That is what I intend to do."
"You said something about getting the combination of her safe."
"She wouldn't give it to me. But it won't matter so much. I can get an expert to open the safe--after I have sent that private secretary about his business," concluded Frederic Vernon.
ROBERT DECIDES TO ACT.
To go back to Robert at the time he was watching the four men in the room on the ground floor of the sanitarium.
Our hero saw the certificate signed, and a little later saw Dr. Remington and his friend arise to depart.
He leaped from the fence and ran around to the front of the grounds, and was just in time to see Remington and his companion stalk off in the direction of the nearest street car.
At first he thought to have the pair arrested, but on second thought concluded to wait. He must first have positive proof that Mrs. Vernon had been brought to the place, and that these men were implicated in the plot against the lady.
"It's one thing to know a truth," thought Robert. "It's another thing to prove it. I must wait until I can prove what I suspect."
After the two men had gone the youth walked around to the rear of the institution once more.
Some trees hid the upper windows from view, and to get a better sight of these Robert climbed one of the trees to the very top.
From this point he could look into several apartments.
The sight in one made his heart sick. On a bed lay an old man, reduced to almost a skeleton. The old man had his fists doubled up, and seemed to be fighting off some imaginary foe.
The next window was dark, and our hero turned to the third.
The sight that met his gaze here startled him. In a chair near the narrow window sat Mrs. Vernon, while in the center of the apartment stood her graceless nephew.
The conversation between the pair has already been given. Robert could not hear what was being said, but he saw every action, and saw that Mrs. Vernon was pleading to be released.
When Frederic Vernon went below, our hero slid down the tree and ran once more to the front of the house.
He saw Vernon come out and start for the street car line. It was now dark, and he managed to keep quite close to the young man without being discovered.
Now that he had seen Mrs. Vernon, Robert's mind was made up as to what he should do.
Frederic Vernon had to wait several minutes for a car. When it came along he hurried to a forward seat and gave himself up to his thoughts. As before, Robert kept on the rear platform.
The center of the city being reached, Frederic Vernon left the car and took his way to a leading hotel. Watching him, Robert saw the young man get a key from the night clerk and enter the elevator.
As soon as Vernon was out of sight Robert entered the hotel office and asked if he might look over the register.
"Certainly," answered the clerk.
Our hero soon found the entry, "Frederic Vernon, Chicago," and after it the number of his room--643.
"Mr. Vernon is stopping here, I see," he said to the clerk.
"Yes, he just went up to his room. Do you want to see him?"
"I won't bother him to-night, thank you," rejoined Robert, and walked out.
He felt pretty certain that Frederic Vernon had retired for the night, but in order to make certain he hung around for the best part of an hour. As Vernon did not re-appear he concluded that the young man had gone to bed.
"Now to find Mr. Farley and explain everything to him," said Robert.
In looking over the directory he found a long list of people by that name, and of this list three were lawyers.
Which of the three could be the man he was after was the question.
"I'll have to go it blind," said our hero to himself, and called a passing hack.
Soon he was on his way to the nearest of the three residences of the lawyers who bore the same family name. When he arrived he found a rather tumbled-down looking place. Telling the hackman to wait for him, he ran up the steps and rang the bell.
No answer was returned and he rang again. Presently an upper window was thrown up, and a head thrust out.
"What's wanted?" asked a deep bass voice.
"I am looking for Mr. Farley, the lawyer," answered Robert.
"All right, I'm your man."
"Hardly," thought Robert.
"I mean Mr. Farley who has his office in the Phoenix Building," he went on, aloud.
"Oh!" came the disappointed grunt. "I am not the fellow."
"So I see. Will you please tell me where he lives?"
"Somewhere out on Michigan Avenue. I don't remember the number." And with this the upper window was closed with a bang.
"That man doesn't believe in being accommodating," said Robert to himself. "However, there is no telling how many times he has been bothered by people looking for other Farleys."
He had the address of the Farley living on Michigan Avenue, and told the hackman to drive to it. The distance was covered in quarter of an hour. A sleepy-looking servant answered our hero's summons.
"Is Mr. Farley at home?"
"He is, but he went to bed long ago."
"Will you tell him that Robert Frost is here and wishes to see him on important business?"
"Yes, sir."
Robert was ushered into a library and the servant went off. Soon Mr. Farley appeared, in dressing gown and slippers.
"Why, Frost, what brings you here this time of night?" he asked, as he came in.
"I suppose you are surprised, Mr. Farley, but something quite out of the ordinary has happened, and I want your advice."
"I will assuredly do the best I can for you. What is the trouble?"
"Frederic Vernon has carried off Mrs. Vernon and had her placed in an asylum for the insane."
The lawyer emitted a low whistle.
"Is it possible!" he ejaculated.
"It is, sir. I hunted for Mrs. Vernon for several hours, and just located her a little while ago. She is confined in Dr. Rushwood's Sanitarium for the Weak-Minded, as the institution is called."
"I have heard of the place, and, let me add, Dr. Rushwood's reputation is none of the best."
"How Frederic Vernon got her there is still a mystery to me, but she is there, and I am pretty certain that he has got his tool, Dr. Remington, and another physician to certify that she is insane."
At this announcement the lawyer's face fell.
"In that case we may have considerable trouble in procuring her release."
"But she is no more insane than you or I."
"That is true, and I presume an examination in court will prove the fact."
"I can testify that Frederic Vernon plotted this whole thing out with Dr. Remington, and offered the doctor ten thousand dollars for his assistance."
"That will be good evidence in Mrs. Vernon's favor."
"We can prove, too, that Vernon forged his aunt's name to a check for six hundred dollars."
"Yes, I know that. I saw the forged check myself."
"And we can prove that he followed her to England and tried to take her life," added Robert. And then he told the particulars of the perilous carriage ride along the cliff and of how Frederic Vernon had been caught by Farmer Parsons.
"I guess we'll have a pretty clear case against that young man," said Mr. Farley, after Robert had finished.
Our hero then told of his following Frederic Vernon from Mrs. Vernon's mansion, and of what he had seen while hanging around Dr. Rushwood's institution.
"We ought to rescue Mrs. Vernon at once," he concluded. "If we don't Frederic Vernon may take it into his head to do her harm."
"I think we had better have Vernon and Dr. Remington arrested first," answered the lawyer.
He returned to his room above and donned his street clothing. A little later he and Robert were driven to the office of the private detective who had been engaged to hunt up Frederic Vernon.
"He is around town," said Brossom. "I've seen him. He is thick again with that Dr. Remington." He had learned a few things, but was astonished when Robert told his tale.
"Why, you ought to be a detective yourself, young man," he cried.
"Thanks, but I don't care for the work," was our hero's dry response.
Brossom agreed that it would be best to arrest Frederic Vernon without delay. The arrests of Dr. Remington and the other physician could then follow.
Again the hack was called into service, and they proceeded to the hotel at which Frederic Vernon had been stopping since his return to the city by the Great Lakes.
"I will see Mr. Vernon now, if you please," said Robert.
"Sorry, but Mr. Vernon went out about half an hour ago," was the clerk's answer, which filled our hero with dismay.
THE BEGINNING OF THE END.
"Gone!"
"Yes, sir."
"Did he say where to?"
"He did not."
"Did he say he would be back?"
"No, he said nothing, just handed over his key and went off as fast as he could."
Our hero turned to the lawyer.
"What do you make of this?" he asked.
"Perhaps he has gone to the asylum," suggested Mr. Farley.
"Or to Mrs. Vernon's residence," put in the detective.
"He may have gone to rejoin Dr. Remington and that other physician," said Robert.
The three talked the matter over for some time, but could reach no satisfactory conclusion regarding Frederic Vernon's departure from the hotel.
"I think it will be best to take the bull by the horns, and have Mrs. Vernon released without delay," said the detective. "Unless we do that her nephew may get it into his head to have her taken a long distance off."
This was thought good advice, and leaving the hotel they told the hackman to drive them to Dr. Rushwood's Sanitarium.
"Sure an' I'm havin' a long spell av it," grinned the Jehu.
"So you are," answered Robert. "But you shall be fully paid for your work."
"Is somethin' wrong?"
"Very much wrong, and we are going to set it right."
"Thin Mike Grady is wid yez to the end," said the hack driver, as he slammed shut the door of his turnout.
When they reached the asylum they saw that all of the lower rooms were dark. In two of the upper apartments lights were burning.
"Come around and I will show you the room in which Mrs. Vernon is confined," said our hero.
They walked to the rear of the institution and Robert pointed up through the tree at the window.
As they looked up Mrs. Vernon's face appeared from behind the bars.
"There she is!" cried Robert. "I wish I could attract her attention."
He decided to climb the tree again, and aided by the detective he went up with all possible speed.
One branch grew closer to the window than the others, and Robert went out on this as far as he dared. Then he waved his handkerchief.
Even in the darkness the white object fluttering in the wind attracted Mrs. Vernon's attention, and she looked intently in the direction.
At last she recognized Robert, and her face showed her joy. She had had the window shut to exclude the cool night air, but now she raised the sash.
"Robert!" she cried softly. "Oh, how glad I am that you have come!"
"Don't speak too loudly, Mrs. Vernon, or they may hear you."
"Are you alone?"
"No, Mr. Farley is below, and also a private detective."
"Thank God for that. You have come to save me, of course."
"Yes. Is anybody around, or have they all gone to bed?"
"I have seen nobody since my nephew was here several hours ago."
"I wish I could get to the window, I would soon have those bars out and get in to help you," went on Robert, after a pause.
"Never mind, tell Mr. Farley and the detective to go around to the front door and demand admittance."
Robert descended to the ground and repeated what the lady had said.
The men and our hero walked to the great iron gate and rang the bell.
Nobody answered the summons.
"We had better climb the fence and try the front door," said Brossom.
"I'm afraid I am not equal to it," answered Mr. Farley, as he surveyed the iron barrier dubiously.
"There is an easy way to get into the garden from the rear end of that dividing wall," said Robert, pointing out the wall in question. "Come along."
The spot was soon gained, and the boy leaped up on the wall. Mr. Farley came next, and the detective followed. They picked their way through the tangled shrubbery, and ascending the piazza rang the bell loudly.
The bark of a dog rang out, and then they heard hasty footsteps sound through the hallway.
"Who is there?" came in a high-pitched voice.
"I wish to see Dr. Rushwood on important business," answered Mr. Farley. "Let me in at once."
"Wait till I call the doctor," was the reply.
The dog continued to bark and to rattle his chain. A few minutes passed, and then Dr. Rushwood put in appearance.
"Wha--what is the meaning of this?" he stammered, as he found himself confronted by three people, when he had expected to see only one person.
"We have important business with you, Dr. Rushwood," replied Mr. Farley, as he forced his way into the hall, followed by the detective and Robert.
"What is your business?"
"You have a lady confined here--Mrs. Vernon."
The keeper of the asylum changed color and fell back a step.
"Well--er--what do you want?" he stammered.
"We want you to release the lady at once."
"But she is confined here as a--a person of--of weak mind."
"She is all right, and you know it," put in Robert. "If you try to make any trouble for us it will go hard with you, I can promise you that."
"And who are you to threaten me?" demanded Dr. Rushwood.
"I am Robert Frost, Mrs. Vernon's private secretary. Mrs. Vernon has been confined here through a plot hatched out by her worthless nephew, Frederic Vernon, and his tool, Dr. Remington."
"The young man tells the truth," put in Mr. Farley. "If you wish to keep out of trouble you will make us no trouble."
"And you are----?" faltered Rushwood.
"I am Louis Farley, the lawyer."
"And I am Frank Brossom, the detective," put in that individual. "Doctor, the game is up, and you had better retire as gracefully as you can."
"Retire?" thundered Dr. Rushwood, who felt that he must put on a front. "I have done nothing of which I am ashamed. The lady is here on the certificate of two doctors. If anything is wrong----"
"You will right it, of course," finished the detective, thus affording Rushwood a loop-hole through which he might escape. "Very well, take us up to the lady."
"Of course I will right anything that is wrong."
"Then take us up to Mrs. Vernon," put in Robert, and started for the stairs.
"See here, it seems to me that you are very forward," blustered the doctor.
"I shall not waste time with you," answered Robert. "I know where Mrs. Vernon is, and I am going up to her," and he began to ascend the stairs.
"Be careful, young man, or I may loosen my dog."
"If you do he'll be a dead animal in about two seconds," answered Brossom.
Robert ran up to the third floor of the house, and speedily found Mrs. Vernon's room.
Luckily the key to the door was on a nearby peg, and he quickly took it down and let himself into the apartment.
The lady was waiting for him, and almost threw herself into his sturdy arms.
"Robert!" she cried. "Oh, what a friend you have proved to be!"
Mr. Farley followed our hero, and then came the doctor and the detective.
Dr. Rushwood felt that the game was indeed up, and to save himself insisted that he had been imposed upon.
"I told the other doctors that Mrs. Vernon did not act like a very crazy person," he said. "But they assured me that she was in the habit of having violent spells."
Robert assisted Mrs. Vernon down to the lower floor and then a servant was called upon to unlock the gate leading to the road.
The hack was in waiting, and without listening to any more Dr. Rushwood might have to say, the party got in and were driven directly for Mrs. Vernon's mansion.
Here it was decided that Robert should remain with Mrs. Vernon until morning, while Mr. Farley returned home and the detective went on a hunt for Frederic Vernon and his accomplices.
Mrs. Vernon was very nervous because of her bitter experience, and had Robert occupy a room next to her own, while William the butler was requested to do his sleeping on a couch in the hall.
It must be confessed that our hero slept but little during the remainder of the night. His thoughts were busy concerning the rescue and what Frederic Vernon would do next. He was exceedingly thankful that he had been able to render such signal service to the lady who had been so much of a friend to him.
On the following morning Mr. Farley put in an appearance, and steps were taken to proceed against Frederic Vernon and those who had aided him in his wicked plot against his aunt. But these steps proved of no avail, for, later on, it was discovered that the rascally nephew had taken a lake steamer to Canada. From Canada Frederic Vernon drifted to the West, and then joined a gold hunting party bound for Alaska. He was caught in a blizzard while out among the mines, and was so badly frozen that recovery was impossible. He sent word to his aunt, telling of his condition, and she forwarded sufficient money for him to return to Chicago. Here he lingered in a hospital for several months, and then died. Before his death he professed to be very sorry for his many wrong-doings, and told where he had pawned the balance of the jewelry he had stolen, and the articles were eventually recovered.
Dr. Remington also disappeared, as did Dr. Carraway, and what ever became of them Robert never learned.
ROBERT'S HEROISM--CONCLUSION.
It took several days to straighten matters out around the Vernon household, and so Robert's proposed visit home had to be deferred until the middle of the week following.
Mrs. Vernon was truly grateful to the youth for all he had done, and did not hesitate to declare that she was going to make him her principal heir when she died.
"You did nobly, Robert," she said. "Your mother should be proud of you. No woman could have a better son."
As Frederic Vernon had disappeared, the scandal was hushed up, the detective paid off, and there the matter was allowed to drop. This was a great relief to Dr. Rushwood, who had dreaded an exposure. But exposure soon came through another so-styled patient, and the doctor had to depart in a great hurry, which he did, leaving a great number of unpaid bills behind him.
One day came a letter for Robert, which made him feel very sober. It was from his mother.
"I wish you would come home and assist me in my money affairs," wrote Mrs. Talbot. "Mr. Talbot had asked me for more than I am willing to lend him, and lately he has taken to drink and is making me very miserable."
"I wish you would come home and assist me in my money affairs," wrote Mrs. Talbot. "Mr. Talbot had asked me for more than I am willing to lend him, and lately he has taken to drink and is making me very miserable."
"The wretch!" muttered Robert, when he had finished the communication. "What a pity mother ever threw herself away on such a man. I'll run home this very afternoon," and receiving permission from Mrs. Vernon he hurried up and caught the first train leaving after the lunch hour.
Robert had not been to Granville for a long time, and he felt rather strange as he stepped off the train. No one was at the depot to receive him, yet he met several people that he knew.
"Why if it aint Robert Frost!" cried Sam Jones, his old school chum. "How are you getting along, Robert? But there's no need to ask, by the nice clothes you are wearing."
"I am doing very well, Sam," replied our hero. "And how are you faring?"
"Pretty good. I am learning the carpenter's trade."
"I see."
"Come home to stay?"
"No, just to see my mother."
Sam Jones' face fell a little.
"It's too bad she's having such a hard time of it, Robert--indeed it is."
"So you know she is having a hard time?"
"Why, everybody in Granville knows it. Mr. Talbot is drinking like a fish, and using up her money fast, too, so they say."
"It's a shame," muttered Robert. "It's a wonder mother didn't write before."
"Going up to the house now?" continued Sam.
"Yes."
"You'll be in time for a jolly row. I just saw your step-father going up there, and he was about half full."
"It's too bad, Sam. I'll have to do the best I can. I wish my mother would come to Chicago and live with me."
The two boys separated, and our hero continued on his way to what had once been his happy home.
The main street of Granville was a winding one, and after running away from the railroad for a short distance, it crossed the tracks a second time and then led up a hill, on the top of which was built the Frost homestead.
As Robert approached the railroad he saw a familiar figure ahead of him, reeling from side to side of the dusty roadway. The figure was that of his step-father.
The sight filled him with disgust, and he did not know whether to stop and speak to the man or pass him by unnoticed.
While he was deliberating James Talbot reeled down to the railroad tracks, staggered, and fell headlong. He tried to rise, but the effort seemed a failure, and then he sank down in a drunken stupor.
"He is too drunk to walk any further," thought Robert. "Oh, what a beast he is making of himself! If he----"
Our hero broke off short, as the whistle of an approaching train reached his quick ears. The afternoon express was coming--along the very tracks upon which his step-father lay!
The boy's heart seemed to stop beating. The drunken man was unconscious of his danger--he could not help himself. Supposing he was left where he lay? There would be a rushing and crushing of heavy wheels, and then all would be over, and this man, who was not fit to live, would be removed from the Frost path forever!
This was the thought that came into Robert's mind, a thought born of the Evil One himself. But then came another thought, as piercing as a shaft of golden light, "Love your enemies." The boy dropped the valise he was carrying and leaped forward madly.
"Get up! get up!" he yelled, as he caught the drunken man by the arm. "Get up! The train is coming!"
"Whazzer mazzer!" hiccoughed James Talbot dreamily. "Lemme alone, I shay!"
"Get off the railroad track!" went on Robert. "The train is coming!"
"Train!" repeated the drunkard. "I--hic--don't shee no train."
But now the whistle sounded louder than ever, and around the turn of the hill appeared the locomotive of the express, speeding along at a rate of fifty-five miles an hour. The sight caused Robert's heart to thump loudly, while James Talbot gazed at the iron monster as though transfixed with terror.
"We're lost!" he screamed hoarsely, and then straightened out and sank back like one dead.
What happened in the next few seconds Robert could hardly tell in detail. He had a hazy recollection of catching his step-father by the leg and jerking him from the track and falling down on top of him. Man and boy rolled into a dry ditch, and as they went down the express thundered by, the engineer being unable to stop the heavy train short of twice its own length. And when Robert came to his senses he was lying on a grassy bank and Sam Jones and several others were bathing him with water.
"My step-father--is he saved?" were the youth's first words.
"Yes, he was saved," answered one of the men. "But he seems to be suffering from another stroke of paralysis."
Robert soon felt strong enough to get up, and asked for his valise, which was handed over to him. His brave deed had been witnessed by Sam Jones and a farmer who had been driving toward the railroad crossing. Both of these explained to the crowd how our hero had risked his life to save that of his intoxicated step-father.
A stretcher was procured and Mr. Talbot was placed upon this and carried to his home. The whole lower portion of his body seemed to be paralyzed and he spoke with great difficulty. Strange to say the shock had completely sobered him.
It was a strange meeting between Mrs. Talbot and Robert. Tears were in the eyes of the mother, tears which only her son understood. With great care James Talbot was carried to a bed-chamber on the second floor of the house and here made as comfortable as possible, while one of the neighbors went off to summon a doctor.
"They tell me you risked your life to save him," whispered Mrs. Talbot to Robert. "Oh, Robert, my boy! my only boy!" And she clasped him about the neck and burst into a passionate fit of weeping.
When the doctor had made a careful examination he looked very grave.
"The shock is a heavy one, Mrs. Talbot," he said. "And coming on top of that which he had some time ago, is likely to prove serious."
"Do you mean he will die?" she asked quickly.
"'While there is life there is hope,' that is all I can say," said the physician, and then gave directions as to what should be done for the sufferer.
In the morning James Talbot was no better, physically, although able to talk a little. From his wife he learned what Robert had done for him.
"He's a good boy," he whispered huskily. "A better boy than I am a man."
"James, when you get well you must give up drinking," she replied.
"I won't get well, Sarah--I feel it. But I won't drink any more, I promise you." And then she kissed him on the forehead. She had loved him once, and now, when he lay helpless, she could not help but love him again.
Two days later it was evident that the end was drawing near. Before this came he asked for his wife and told her to bring Robert. When the two were at his bedside he placed their hands one within the other.
"Robert, I'm going," he said slowly and painfully. "Will you forgive the past?"
"I will," answered Robert. His emotion was such that he could scarcely speak.
"And, Sarah, will you forgive me, too?" went on the dying man, turning his yearning eyes toward his wife.
"Oh, James, James, there is nothing to forgive!" she wailed, and fell on his bosom.
"I've done a good deal of wrong, and this is the end of it. Robert, be a good boy and take care of your mother, for she is the best woman in the world. I--I--wish--I had--been--better too. If I----"
James Talbot tried to say more, but could not. A spasm had seized him, and when it was over the paralysis had touched his tongue, and his speech was silenced forever. He died at sunset, and was buried on the Sunday following, in the little Granville cemetery where Robert's father rested.
The taking off of James Talbot made a great change in Robert's mother. She became a deep-thinking, serious woman, and from that hour on her heart and soul were wrapped up in her only child.
To get her away from the scene of her sorrows, Robert wrote to Mrs. Vernon, and that lady promptly invited the widow to pay her a visit, and this invitation was accepted. The two ladies soon became warm friends, and it was decided that in the future Mrs. Talbot was to spend her winters in Chicago, while each summer Mrs. Vernon and Robert should come to Granville for an outing.
"Because, you see," said Mrs. Vernon, "we'll have to divide Robert between us, since neither of us can very well give him up."
* * * * *
Several years have passed since the events recorded above took place. Robert has gone through a college education, and, in connection with Mr. Farley, manages all of Mrs. Vernon's business affairs for her. It is well known that he will be the rich lady's principal heir when she dies, but he openly declares that it is his hope she will live for many a long year to come.
Robert frequently hears from Dick Marden and from his old fellow clerk, Livingston Palmer. Through Marden Robert received a thousand dollars with the compliments of Felix Amberton. Both the lumberman and the miner are doing well. Livingston Palmer has mastered stenography thoroughly and is now Mr. Farley's private clerk, at a salary of thirty dollars per week. To use Palmer's own words, "this beats clerking in a cut-rate ticket office or traveling with a theatrical company all to pieces."
As yet Robert is unmarried. But he is a frequent visitor at the home of Herman Wenrich, and rumor has it that some day he will make pretty Nettie Wenrich his wife. He is interested in a number of business ventures of his own, and is fast becoming rich, but no matter what good luck may befall him, it is not likely that he will ever forget the thrilling adventures through which he passed when he was unconsciouslyFalling in with Fortune.