HEAR JOHN NEWTON, THE GREATBIRD WHISTLER.
“John Newton,” murmured Fenn. “That name sounds familiar.”
“Of course it does,” replied Frank. “That’s the name of the chap who was expelled from our high school last term.”
“So it was. But this can’t be the same one.”
“I think it is,” suggested Fenn. “Don’t you remember, he said he was going to New York to be an actor? I heard he had some sort of a job in a theater. Maybe this is he. Let’s go in and see.”
They bought tickets and entered. The whistling was the last thing on the program, the theater being one where a “continuous performance” was given. A boy came out on the stage and began to whistle, giving imitations of various birds. He did very well, but the three chums were more interested in the identity of the lad than in his performance.
“It is John Newton, from Darewell,” whispered Bart. “I never knew he could whistle like that.”
“He was always practicing at it,” declaredFenn, “but he’s improved a lot since I last heard him in Darewell.”
“Let’s find out if we can’t see him,” suggested Frank, as they went from the theater and inquired their way back of the scenes.
A multitude of thoughts rushed through Ned’s mind as he stood in the restaurant awaiting the arrival of the policeman for whom the cashier had sent. He could not imagine what had become of his money. He knew his pockets had no holes in them and he came to the conclusion he must have dropped it on the bed in the lodging house instead of putting it in his overcoat. But he knew he must think of something besides the lost money, as any moment the officer might appear and take him to the police station.
He looked across the street to where a man was shoveling snow from the sidewalk. Then a bright idea came to Ned. He turned to the cashier who was looking at him vindictively and asked:
“Can’t I shovel your walk off and pay for my breakfast that way?”
“Humph! That’s a different proposition,” the cashier replied. “If you’re willing to do the square thing, I guess we are, too. Only don’t tryany trick like that again. I s’pose if I let you take a shovel you’ll not skip out with it?”
“I’m not in the habit of stealing,” Ned answered indignantly.
“I don’t know anything about your habits,” the man answered. “I only know a fellow worked that game on me once and I don’t intend to be caught again. I’ll give you thirty cents for cleaning the walk. That’ll pay for your meal and be fifteen cents over. You can take it or go to jail.”
“I’ll take it,” Ned exclaimed. “Where’s the shovel?”
“I’ll be watching you,” the clerk went on. “If you try the sneaking act I’ll have the cop after you.”
“You needn’t be afraid,” rejoined Ned.
The waiter came back to report that the policeman would be there in a few minutes.
“Go and tell him it’s all right,” the clerk said. “The kid’s going to shovel the walk to pay for his grub.”
The waiter, not much relishing his second trip through the storm, scowled at Ned as he passed our hero, but the boy was so pleased at the escape from his predicament that he did not mind the waiter’s black looks.
Ned made a good job of cleaning the walk.The snow was not falling so heavily now, though the storm was far from being over.
“I think I could get work at this if I only had a shovel,” Ned thought as he put the finishing touches on his task. “Maybe the clerk would lend me this one.”
He made the request when he went in to get his pay.
“I’ll leave the fifteen cents with you as security for the shovel,” he said, when he had made his request.
“That’s a hot one; fifteen cents security on a dollar and a half shovel,” the clerk replied with a laugh. “Still, you look honest, though I had my doubts at first,” he added. “Go ahead, take the shovel. Never mind about leaving the money. You’ll need it to get dinner with. Bring the shovel back to-night.”
Thus was Ned started in business. He got several jobs at cleaning sidewalks, and at noon had earned two dollars. He went back to the restaurant, returned the shovel and got dinner. The cashier he had dealt with had gone, but the one who had relieved him knew about the transaction. When Ned had finished his fifteen cent dinner, for that was all he allowed himself, the waitress brought him a big piece of pie.
“I didn’t order that,” he said, though he looked at it longingly.
“The cashier says it’s his treat,” the girl replied with a smile, and Ned had no further compunctions about eating it.
“I told the other fellow you wouldn’t bring the shovel back,” the cashier remarked as Ned paid his check.
“How do you mean?” asked Ned.
“Why the clerk, who was on duty here when you ate breakfast, said he thought you would, and I said I didn’t believe you would show up again. I said if you did I’d give you some pie. See?”
“Oh,” Ned answered with a laugh, “much obliged.”
That afternoon he bought a second-hand shovel and went about looking for more walks to clean. By night he had earned a dollar additional, which gave him considerable more capital than he had possessed since the episode at the hotel.
“I’ll get a room at the lodging house to-night,” he said as he finished a simple supper. “I don’t like those beds all in a heap.”
It was still snowing the next day, and though Ned found the field pretty well covered by scores of other men and boys, he managed to earn twodollars, which made him feel quite like a capitalist, as he shut the door of his lodging-house room that night.
The three chums, who wanted to find John Newton had no trouble. They met him coming from the rear of the theater, as he had done his “turn,” and was not to go on again for three hours.
The “Bird Warbler” was as much surprised to see his former acquaintances from Darewell as they were to find him engaged at a theater.
“I’m studying to be an actor,” John said, “but it’s dull times now and I took this job. It pays pretty well.”
“I never knew you could whistle good enough for this work,” said Fenn.
“It comes natural I guess,” replied John. “But what are you chaps doing in New York?”
They told him, and Bart suggested that perhaps John might happen to see Ned.
“If I do I’ll let you know,” the “warbler” replied. “Where are you stopping?”
“At the Imperial,” replied Bart. “You might telephone us if you hear anything of Ned.”
“I will. Come and have a glass of soda withme,” John added, but the chums were too anxious to keep on with their search to accept, and, bidding the “warbler” good-bye they kept on.
They got back to their rooms at noon, to find that William Perry was up and dressed, and impatient to go out.
“I want to begin to help you,” he said. “Did you see the clerk when you came in?”
“No. Why?” asked Fenn.
“He’s anxious to tell you something. Says they opened a valise a fellow left here and he thinks it might contain a clew that would help you.”
“Maybe it’s about Ned,” suggested Bart. “Come on fellows.”
“What did you say the name of your missing friend was?” the clerk asked them, as the three chums hurried down to his desk.
“Ned Wilding,” answered Frank. “Why?”
“You remember me telling you about that fellow who slipped down the fire escape rope and lost his valise?” the clerk asked. The boys said they did. “Well, we opened it to-day, and the collars are marked ‘N. W.’ I thought it might be a tip for you.”
“Let’s see the things in the satchel,” suggested Fenn.
The clerk showed them to the chums. They had no difficulty in identifying as Ned’s several articles in the valise.
“Then that writing was his, after all!” exclaimed Frank. “Boys, we are on his track.”
“But where can he be?” asked Bart. “We only know he ran away from here. Why did he leave in that fashion? Had he done something he was afraid of?”
“Perhaps he suddenly went—” began Frank, and then he stopped in seeming confusion.
“What were you going to say?” asked Bart.
“Nothing,” Frank replied. “I made a mistake. I think we’d better tell the police about this.”
“That’s so. I nearly forgot,” the clerk added. “You are to go to police headquarters. A message came over the telephone a little while ago.”
“Perhaps they’ve found Ned!” exclaimed Bart for they had left the telephone number of their hotel with the sergeant at headquarters and the official had promised he would telephone if he had any news.
“Hurry up!” cried Fenn. “Perhaps Ned is there waiting for us.”
“I only hope he is,” Frank remarked, and the boys noticed he appeared gloomy and sad.
“Wonder what ails Frank?” asked Bart of Fenn, as they went to their rooms to get their coats and hats.
“A fit of the same old mysteriousness,” replied Stumpy. “Don’t notice him and it will pass over.”
“Let me go to headquarters with you,” begged William. “I want to help.”
“Are you strong enough to go out?” asked Bart. “It’s quite cold.”
“Oh I’m used to that,” and the boy laughed.
“But you—er—you have no overcoat,” said Fenn, wishing when it was too late he had not mentioned it.
“I’m used to that too,” William replied.
“Would you mind if we loaned you money enough to get a coat?” asked Bart.
William thought for a moment.
“I’m ever so much obliged to you,” he said. “You’ve done more for me now than I can ever repay.”
“Then a little more won’t hurt,” said Fenn with a laugh.
The overcoat was purchased, and the four boys went to police headquarters.
“Gentleman waiting to see you,” the sergeant said. “Seems terribly upset about something.”
They went into an anteroom and found Mr. Wilding. He had been in New York since early Thursday morning, but had been unable to locate the boys, since the finding of William in the snow had taken from the minds of the three chums all thoughts of sending the telegram to Darewell, telling Ned’s father of their address.
“I knew there was something we should have attended to, but I couldn’t think what it was,” Bart exclaimed.
“Have you any news?” asked Mr. Wilding eagerly after explaining he had obtained the address of the chums from the police sergeant who offered to telephone to them.
“Just a little,” replied Fenn and he told of the finding of Ned’s valise. Then all went over the situation, but the prospect seemed no brighter than ever.
“I’ll tell you what we ought to do,” declared William.
“What?” asked Mr. Wilding anxiously.
“We ought to make a regular search of all the lodging houses and other places. I’ve slept in lots of ’em. That’s where men and boys go when they have only a little money, and I guess your son hadn’t much when he lost his valise.”
“I believe you’re right!” exclaimed Ned’sfather. “It is a good suggestion. I will hire some private detectives to help in the search.”
“And I’ll do all I can,” said William, whose story had been told to Mr. Wilding.
“My poor boy,” Ned’s father murmured. “I wonder where he can be.”
“Don’t you fret!” exclaimed William. “We’ll find him for you,” and he spoke so hopefully that Mr. Wilding smiled for the first time since he had left home.
It was arranged that he would stay at a hotel near police headquarters while the four boys would remain at the Imperial as there was a bare chance Ned would return.
“Now here’s where I get busy,” declared William, as they left the police station.
A systematic search of the lodging houses was begun that afternoon. But it was harder and more baffling work than any one had imagined.
John Newton gave them unexpected aid. As he had much time to himself he offered to go with them to the different lodging houses in the evenings, and give his whistling imitations of birds.
“What good will that do?” asked Bart. “Does he think Ned will hear him and come from hiding?”
“Not that,” explained Fenn, to whom John had told his scheme. “But when he’s whistling there’s sure to be a crowd around him, and, if Ned is in the place, he’ll join the others and we may see him. I think it’s a good plan.”
The others did also, and, for several evenings John amused the inmates of the lodging houses with his whistling. As Fenn had said, crowds gathered about him, and the three chums lookedeagerly through them for a sight of Ned.
It was perhaps one of the best plans the boys could have adopted, for in their eagerness to hear the “Bird Warbler” the unfortunate lads and men who were forced to the shelter of the places crowded close up around John Newton. In this way Bart and his companions could scrutinize at short range nearly every person in the throng.
“Aren’t you getting tired of it?” asked Bart one evening when they were starting out for a large lodging house on the Bowery.
“I don’t mind it a bit,” replied John. “I’d do more than this to help find Ned. Besides, it’s a good advertisement for me. You see the fellows in these places hear me, and when they see my name on the theatrical bill boards they’ll come in. You can’t get too much advertising when you’re an actor,” and John looked quite important.
There was a larger crowd than usual in the lodging house that night. John made his way to the front of the room. At first no one paid any attention to the entrance of himself and his friends. But, as soon as John began an imitation of a mocking bird, there was a stir.
“That sounds just like it used to when I was a boy!” exclaimed an old man. “Many and many’s the mornin’ I’ve heard them birds.Can you do a song-sparrow imitation, sonny?”
“Sure,” replied John, and he trilled some sweet high notes.
“My but that’s fine!”
From that John proceeded to imitate a robin and a bob-o-link. He had scarcely finished with the last before there was a stir in one corner of the room. It seemed as if some one was trying to get out.
“Maybe Ned’s there!” exclaimed Bart to Fenn. “Go over and take a look.”
Fenn edged his way through the crowd, but found, instead of some one trying to get out, it was a man trying to make his way closer to where the whistler was. From his appearance the man seemed to have just awakened from a sound sleep on a couple of chairs.
“Where are they?” he exclaimed. “Let me get at ’em!”
“What’s the matter?” asked several.
“I want to catch those birds!” the recently awakened sleeper said, rubbing his eyes. “I can put ’em in cages and sell ’em. I haven’t made any money lately, now’s my chance. Get out of my way, can’t you? I used to trap birds when I was a boy. These are fine singers.”
John had not yet caught sight of the man makinghis way toward him. The “Warbler” was giving an imitation of a blackbird, and he managed to send out his notes with such skill that it really sounded as if the bird was in a different part of the room from where the whistler stood. The notes appeared to come from a window in the corner.
“I can get him! Look out!” cried the man.
He made a dash for the window, and at that, John, who was now aware of what was going on, changed the whistling to the notes of a bluebird.
This time the tones were so directed as to seem to come from a window on the other side of the room, and the man turned to make a dash in that direction.
“Why, there’s two birds!” he exclaimed. “I’ll catch ’em all!”
No sooner had he reached the second window than John changed the tune to that made by a bullfinch, and the man, listening, thought the bird was in the back of the apartment. He made his way there, the crowd parting to let him through, and laughing, the meanwhile, at the deluded man’s actions.
John was concealed from view by the throng packed close about him, or the man would have discovered the trick at once. As it was he thoughtsure there were several birds in the room. When he got to the rear the notes of the feathered songster seemed more distinct than ever. The man climbed up on a chair to peer behind the window curtain, and, as he did so, John, whose vocal abilities were not alone limited to birds, let out a croak like a big frog.
“That’s no bird!” exclaimed the man in disgust, as the crowd broke into a laugh at him. “Am I dreaming or what’s the matter? Is this place haunted?”
Then he caught sight of John, who was just puckering up his lips to again imitate a bird.
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” the man exclaimed. “Well you’re a good one, all right, to fool me. I used to live in the woods and I know birds pretty well.”
“That’s where I learned to imitate ’em; in the woods,” said John, glad of a chance to rest, for his lips and mouth were aching from the strain.
“Can you whistle tunes?” the man asked him.
“A little.”
“Give us some music then. I like a good jolly song; and we’ll join in the chorus.”
Then John poured forth his melody in a series of popular songs, for he was a good whistler, aside from his power to mimic, and, for half anhour the lodging house rang with the voices of the men, led by John’s shrill notes.
All this while Bart and the others kept a close lookout for Ned. They did not see him, and, when it was evident that all the inmates of the place had come under their scrutiny, the boys left, their mission unsuccessful. And so it was for several evenings.
Meanwhile Ned, all unconscious of the search being made for him, was puzzling his brains as to what he had better do. He was in no immediate danger of starving, as there were several snowstorms, and he earned enough to pay for his room and live frugally. Still he knew his father and chums would worry but he did not feel he dare communicate with them. He bought the papers each day, and saw several references to the swindling operations of Skem & Skim. They had not been arrested yet, it stated, and search was being made for them and for a young fellow who was believed to have helped them in their operations by dealing in a number of shares of oil stock.
“That means me,” thought Ned, as he read it. “I’ve got to lay low yet.”
So he went his weary way, fearing arrest every moment, yet feeling rather secure now that a week had passed and he had not been apprehended. Hefound several odd jobs to do when there was no snow to shovel and so managed to make enough to live on.
The four boys and Mr. Wilding kept up their search. The police and private detectives did what they could but to no purpose. Personals were inserted in the papers, begging Ned to communicate with his father, but Ned never thought of looking for them.
One afternoon, William, who had adopted the plan of walking about the streets in the hope of seeing Ned, whom he knew by description and a photograph, paused in front of a commission store, where a youth about his own age was helping to move boxes of oranges from a truck. Something about the lad attracted William’s attention.
“I wonder if that’s Ned?” he said to himself. “He looks just like the boys told me he would and like that photograph Mr. Wilding had. Still I wouldn’t like to make a mistake. I must get closer.”
He pretended to be searching for a number on the building, and so approached near to the boy helping unload the crates.
“I’ll bet it is Ned,” William said to himself with conviction. “I’m going to ask him. He can’t any more than say no.”
He sauntered up to the young fellow, and, with an air of unconcern asked:
“Do you know anyone around here named Ned Wilding? I’m looking for him.”
The boy, carrying a crate of oranges, jumped so he almost dropped the fruit. Then he looked sharply at William. His face grew pale, and William was sure he had found Ned.
“I haven’t got time to talk,” was the rather gruff answer made by the boy with the crate. “I’m busy,” and then he hurried into the store with the box.
“Fooled again,” thought William. He waited until the boy came out again, and this time he was sure it was the missing youth. But now he decided on a different plan.
“Evidently, if it is Ned, he doesn’t want to be known,” thought William. “Something’s gone wrong with him. My only chance is in getting some of his chums here to identify him. I must telephone to one of them. They may be at the hotel. If not I’ll leave word for them to come here as soon as they get back. Mr. Wilding too! I must ’phone him! Then I’ll remain on the watch until some one arrives.”
There was a telephone pay-station across the street, and William sent his two messages fromthere. Neither of the three chums was in, nor was Mr. Wilding, but at both hotels the clerks said they would deliver the messages promptly.
“Now to wait until they come,” said William as he left the booth.
Just then, as he was looking at the boy, who was still carrying in the crates, he saw a big man with a red moustache approach him. William was not near enough to hear what the man said, but he noted that the boy seemed frightened.
“Ah I’ve caught you, haven’t I?” exclaimed the man, and Ned (for as William suspected the boy carrying in the oranges was the missing youth) looked up with a start. “I’ll teach you to steal my money and run away.”
He grabbed Ned by the arm and shook him roughly.
“I didn’t take your money, Mr. Cassidy!” exclaimed the boy, as he recognized the lodging house keeper.
“What did you run away for? I’m on to your game. Now you can come along with me and work out what you stole from me, or I’ll hand you over to the first officer I meet. What are you going to do?”
What was poor Ned to do? He was in dire straits. Still it seemed better to go with Cassidythan to make a scene on the street and be arrested. He wanted that least of all things.
“I’ll go with you,” he said, “though you have no right to make me, and I didn’t take your money.”
“What’s the matter?” asked the fruit man, who had hired Ned to assist in unloading the truck.
“Nothing much,” replied Cassidy. “This lad owes me some money and I’ll make him work it out.”
“That’s your affair,” the fruit man replied. “He’s earned half a dollar working for me. Here it is.”
He was about to hand it to Ned, but Cassidy took it.
“I’ll apply that on account,” he said grimly, as he marched Ned away.
The whole affair had occurred so suddenly that Ned did not know what to do. He was in a sort of dream. The appearance of Cassidy, the confiscation of the half dollar and the lodging house keeper’s evident intention of holding the boy to account for a theft he had never committed, made Ned think he was doomed to misfortune, no matter what he did to avoid it.
Then followed a natural desire to escape. Heknew Cassidy had no right to take him into custody, and he felt the injustice of it keenly. The man held him loosely by the coat sleeve, and marched him along through the streets. Several persons turned to look at the spectacle, but no one ventured to interfere. New Yorkers have formed the habit of not taking much interest in affairs that do not concern them directly.
As they were crossing a narrow street in one of the thickly settled tenement districts a horse, attached to a wagon, and rapidly driven, bore down on them. Ned, with the instinct of a quick runner, started to dash ahead. Cassidy, who moved slower, pulled back toward the curb, to let the steed pass. The movement separated Ned from his captor, for Cassidy’s hold on the boy’s sleeve was broken. Ned was free!
The horse and wagon was now between him and the man. The boy gave a hasty glance back, and saw Cassidy standing on the crossing, ready to dash forward as soon as the wagon should pass. He could not go around it because of vehicles on either side.
“Here’s my chance!” exclaimed Ned as he dashed forward and ran down the other side of the street.
An instant later the wagon had passed and Cassidywas after him. But the start Ned had he used to good advantage. He was fleet of foot and he had an object in making speed, such as he had never had before. Somewhat to his surprise Cassidy did not shout to him to stop, and made no outcry.
“I wonder if he’s afraid to let people know he’s after me?” thought Ned.
The truth of it was, Cassidy wanted to save his breath for running. Also, he did not want to raise too much disturbance in his pursuit of Ned. He knew he had no right to take the boy into custody, and, though he knew he could cause his arrest on the false charge, that would not bring back the money Cassidy thought Ned had stolen. It was the money, or its equivalent, the lodging house keeper was after.
So he decided to try to catch Ned without aid from outside sources if possible. With this in view he started after the fugitive without raising an alarm, though the streets were well filled.
Ned made good time. He speeded down the thoroughfare until he came to where another intersected it, and turned the corner. This put him out of Cassidy’s view.
The second street was not so thronged as the one he had just left, and Ned had a chance to runbetter. But there was this disadvantage, that he was more closely observed. On the crowded avenue a running lad attracts little attention, but when more plainly in sight, as Ned now was, he becomes an object of interest.
As he ran he looked back over his shoulder to see if Cassidy was in sight. Past several houses Ned kept on, and his pursuer did not appear around the corner. Then, just as he came in front of a big tenement house Ned saw Cassidy some distance in the rear.
“I guess I’ll go in here!” thought the boy. “Maybe I can slip out of the back before he gets here and that will fool him. I’m going to try!”
He darted into the hallway, but, before he had gone three steps he collided with an old man who, at that instant, was coming from his room into the corridor. The shock threw the old man down, and Ned could scarcely retain his balance.
“Excuse me!” he exclaimed, pausing, when he had recovered his equilibrium, to help the aged man to his feet. “I’m sorry,” and then he started to run through the hallway.
“Here! Vait a minute!” the man exclaimed. “Are you tryin’ to rob me? I dinks you are a t’eef! Hold on! Vait until I see if you haf taken my vatch!”
“I haven’t taken anything of yours!” cried Ned. “I’m in a hurry!”
He was almost at the end of the hall, and saw that it opened into a sort of court. Abutting on that was another tenement.
“Vait! You vas a t’eef!” cried the old man, and he set up such a yelling that doors on either side of the corridor opened, and men and women stuck their heads forth, all demanding to know what the matter was.
“I’m done for now!” thought Ned. “If Cassidy comes past here he’ll be sure to hear the excitement, and they’ll tell him I ran through!”
Still he determined not to give up. He dashed on into the court, leaving behind the aged man who was now the centre of an excited throng.
“He vos a t’eef! He knocked me down! He vouldn’t vait until I looked to see if I am robbed!” was the burden of the aged one’s cry. “Call de police! He vos a t’eef!”
Ned ran across the open space and into the other tenement house. The hallway there seemed deserted, but he knew it would not be so long, when the cries from the other house had aroused the inmates.
“If I can only get through the corridor, and into the other street I can fool Cassidy,” Nedreasoned. “I seem to be having all my bad luck at once.”
He had almost reached the front door, for it was the back entrance of the structure that he had gone in, and he thought he saw freedom before him, when there sounded behind him a cry of:
“Stop thief! Stop thief!”
This is enough to arouse excitement anywhere, but in a New York tenement nothing can sooner be calculated to draw the inmates from their rooms, than such an alarm, unless, indeed, it be one of fire.
No sooner had the first cry resounded through the corridor than the hall was swarming with people. Ned found his way blocked, the more effectually when one woman ran to the front door and closed it.
“I’ve caught you!” she exclaimed. “I’ll teach you to rob honest people, even if they are poor!”
“I haven’t robbed anybody!” cried Ned, as he saw the throng in front of him, and heard the tramp of many feet in his rear.
“Stop him! Hold him!” cried half a score.
Ned looked about him. There seemed to be no way of escape. He was standing near the flight of stairs leading to the upper stories of the second tenement. There was a little clear space in front of him, as the crowd before himwas composed mostly of women, who were a little timid about approaching too closely to a “thief” even if he was only a lad.
“I’m going to chance it,” thought Ned. “If I can get to the roof I can cross to some other house, and go down a scuttle hole, perhaps, and so reach the street. Or I can hide until the excitement blows over.”
With this in mind he suddenly grasped the balustrade near which he was. With a jump and a swing he was over it and part way up the stairs. Then he began to run, while the crowd below him, surprised at his sudden escape, set up a chorus of yells.
But Ned had a good start. He took the steps three at a time, and was soon at the top. Then he essayed the next flight, and so on until he found himself on the roof, which was a big, wide stretch of tin. It was used as a place for hanging out clothes, and was easy of access from the top hallway.
Below him Ned could hear the shouts and cries, and the tramp of many feet.
“Which way shall I go?” he asked himself, as he paused for an instant. “Guess it can’t make much difference.”
He turned to the left and ran along until hecame to a stairway several houses further along. The door of this was open, and he went down. He had fairly distanced his pursuers, for none of them were yet on the roof.
“I’ll get to the street and leave ’em behind,” the boy reasoned. “Everyone will be in the house looking for me, and the street will be deserted.”
In this Ned was almost right, for when, after hurrying down several flights of stairs, he reached the thoroughfare, the only person in sight in the immediate neighborhood was a colored man putting in coal. He seemed to be so busily engaged that he had no time to waste in pursuit, so, after a hasty glance from the front door of the tenement, Ned went out.
But in this he reckoned without his host. The colored man, looking up from his shoveling, saw Ned. The lad’s wild and disheveled appearance raised the man’s suspicions. Besides he had heard of the chase after the thief.
“I’ll cotch you!” he cried, leaping from his wagon. “I’ll get you!”
Ned, who was, by this time, running past where the coal wagon was backed up to the curb, turned out to avoid the negro, who, with outstretched arms was advancing toward him. In his anxietyto avoid the coal man, Ned did not notice an open hole down which the black diamonds were being shoveled. Before he could save himself he had plunged into it.
Lucky for the boy the cellar underneath was almost full, the coal coming to within a few feet of the sidewalk, so when Ned toppled in he only went down a little ways. There he was, his head and shoulders sticking up above the pavement, while his feet and legs were buried in the pile of coal underneath.
“Now I’ve got you!” yelled the colored man, as he ran up to Ned, and hauled him from the hole. “I’ve got you! What’d you steal?”
“I didn’t steal anything,” Ned answered. “It’s all a mistake. Please let me go!”
“Hold him!” cried Cassidy, appearing at that moment from the front entrance of the house, up the stairs of which Ned had dashed a few minutes before. “Don’t let him get away!”
“He’ll not get away,” replied the negro.
Cassidy came up and took charge of Ned. Quite a crowd gathered, but the lodging house keeper answered none of the many questions asked him.
“Guess he’s a detective,” was the general whisperthat went around, and Cassidy did not correct it.
“You come with me!” he said to Ned. “Don’t try any of your tricks again, or it’ll be the worse for you.”
And he marched Ned off.
William, coming across the street to take up a position, where he could watch the lad he suspected was Ned, puzzled his head over the scene he had just witnessed.
“I wonder what he went off with that man for?” he said to himself. “Didn’t act as though he wanted to, either. I’ll ask the fruit man.”
He approached, and then the thought struck it would be a good idea to apply for the job the other boy had just left. He got it, for there was need of hurry in unloading the fruit, as the day was cold.
“What was the matter with the other fellow?” asked William carelessly as though it was of little moment to him.
“I don’t know,” the fruit man replied. “The boy came along just like you and asked for a job. I hired him and then along comes this fellow and says the lad owes him money. It wasn’t any ofmy affair. Hustle those boxes in now, I don’t want the oranges to freeze.”
“Who was the man who took him away?” asked William, as indifferently as he could, though he was nervous with eagerness to hear the answer.
“I never saw him before. It was none of my affair, though I liked the looks of that boy, and I didn’t care much for the man. But I’ve gotten over the habit of interfering in other people’s business. Come now, boy, hustle!”
William went to work with an energy that pleased his employer. The boy was beginning to think he had made a mistake. He felt that he should have followed the man, to see where he took the lad he believed was Ned. But then, too, he had telephoned Mr. Wilding and the chums to meet him at the fruit store, and if he was not there when they arrived, they would not know what to make of it.
“I can’t be in two places at once,” William thought to himself. “I guess I’d better stay here until some one comes. Then maybe I can trace which way the man took the boy. Anyhow I’m not sure it was Ned. I’ve never seen him, and it wouldn’t do to make a mistake. He wouldn’t admit he was Ned Wilding, but he acted to me as though he was afraid of something.”
Thus musing, and puzzling over whether he had done the right thing, William continued to help unload the truck, keeping a sharp lookout for Mr. Wilding or the three chums.
The three boys arrived first. They came down the street in a hurry looking for the place William had described to the hotel clerk over the telephone.
“There he is!” cried Bart, as he caught sight of the boy they had pulled from the snow drift. “Where’s Ned?” he added.
“I’m not sure it was him,” William replied, “but a man came and took him away half an hour ago.”
Then he rapidly explained what had taken place, describing the boy he had seen.
“That’s Ned sure enough,” Fenn exclaimed. “Where in the world could he have gone to?”
“And who was the man who said Ned owed him money?” asked Frank. “I guess we’re on the trail of the mystery.”
“Hurry up, let’s see if we can’t find them,” suggested Bart. “They can’t have gone very far.”
“One of us ought to stay here to meet Mr. Wilding if he comes,” said Fenn. “The other two can go with William to look for Ned and the man.”
“Say, did I hire you to chin or to carry in oranges?” asked the fruit man, suddenly appearing in the doorway, and noting William talking to the three boys.
“Guess I’ll have to give up the job,” replied William. “I’ve got to go with these boys.”
“Say, there must be a hoodoo about this job,” the fruit man exclaimed. “You’re the second boy to give it up in less than an hour. What’s the matter?”
The boys did not think it necessary to explain. It was arranged that Frank would stay in the vicinity of the store to meet Mr. Wilding, if that gentleman should arrive, and tell what had happened, while William, with Bart and Fenn, tried to trace Ned and the red-moustached man.
“When Mr. Wilding comes I’ll take him to our hotel,” said Frank. “There will be no use in remaining here and we can wait for you there, as it’s nearer than his.”
“All right,” replied Bart. “We may have some good news for you.”
“I hope you do,” Frank said. “This thing is getting on my nerves. I’m afraid we’ll never see Ned again.”
“Oh, yes we will,” put in Fenn cheerfully.
William did not stop to ask any pay from thefruit man for what work he had done, but hurried off with the two chums in the direction taken by Ned and the man who had led him away.
“We’ll ask any policeman we meet,” suggested Bart.
“I’m afraid we’re on a sort of wild-goose chase,” remarked William, “but it’s the best we can do. If I had only been sure it was Ned I would have followed him, without waiting for you, but I wasn’t.”
“If it was Ned,” said Bart, “I can’t understand why he didn’t admit his identity.”
“He must have had a good reason for it,” retorted Fenn.
Through the street they hurried, making inquiries from policemen, and others whom they met, as to whether Ned and the man had gone that way. They got some traces, but in New York few persons, even policemen, have time to take note of those whom they have no special reason for keeping in mind. As William had said, it was a sort of wild-goose chase, and, when they had gone a mile or more, they became convinced that it was useless to continue any farther.
“Baffled again,” remarked Bart. “This beats me. I wonder what we are to do.”
“Have to begin all over again,” declared William.“It was my fault. I should have followed Ned.”
“No, you did what you thought was best,” Fenn replied.
They returned to the hotel, to find Mr. Wilding and Frank awaiting them. Mr. Wilding, who had expected some news of his son, was deeply disappointed when the three boys returned with none.
“What in the world are we to do?” asked Mr. Wilding. “We seem completely at a loss.”
“There are a few more lodging houses to try,” suggested William. “I’ll start out again this evening. That’s when the places are full, and I may get some trace of him.”
No one could offer a better suggestion, and it was arranged that Mr. Wilding should continue the search with a private detective he had hired, while William and Bart would make a tour of the lodging houses. Fenn and Frank were to remain at the Imperial Hotel.
“There’s no telling when a message may come from the baggage agent telling us that Ned has called for his trunk,” Bart said, “and some one ought to be ready to hurry to the depot. We’ll have to divide our forces.”
With little hope in their hearts, but with dogged patience, and a determination to keep up the search, William and Bart started out.
Ned followed Cassidy through the streets, the lodging-house keeper leading the way, and seemingly in no fear that the boy would give him the slip. As a matter of fact, Ned did not intend to try to escape. He was, in a sense, a voluntary prisoner now, as he knew, if he tried to run away again, Cassidy would probably take after him and raise such a disturbance that the police would interfere. And Ned had his own reasons for not wanting anything to do with the bluecoats.
Afterwards he thought how senseless, in a measure, his fears were, but at the time they loomed up large before him, and caused him to do things of which, otherwise, he would not have dreamed.
“Hurry up!” exclaimed Cassidy when he and Ned had been walking about half an hour. “I haven’t got all day.”
“What do you intend to do?” asked Ned.
“I intend to make you work out the value of the money you stole from me. One of my portershas left and I have to have another. Instead of hiring one I’ll make you do the work until you square things.”
“I never took your money!” declared Ned.
“You’ve said that several times,” Cassidy exclaimed. “I don’t want to hear it again. I saw you, but I’m willing to give you a chance to reform. No use calling in the police unless I have to, but I will, if you don’t do as I tell you.”
The man spoke earnestly, and not unkindly, and Ned began to believe that Cassidy really believed he stole the money, a thing the boy had not admitted at first.
“Some day you’ll find you’re wrong,” Ned said.
“I guess not! Jim Cassidy doesn’t make mistakes,” was the answer. “If I do I’ll pay you back with interest.”
They reached the lodging house where Ned had stopped before, and whence he had escaped in the night.
“Go ahead up,” commanded Cassidy. “Get a broom and a pail of water and scrub out the rooms. I’ll allow you at the rate of a dollar and a half a day. I had fifteen dollars under my pillow that you took. I got four and a half of it back, counting the fifty cents from the fruit man, and that leaves ten dollars and a half you owe me. Youwork seven days and I’ll call it square, and give you your bed free at night. That’s more than you deserve, but you’re young and I’ll give you a chance.”
Ned thought it was a pretty poor chance, considering his innocence of the theft, but he decided it was best not to answer. He got a pail and broom, and, taking off his coat set to work cleaning the dirty floor. Cassidy watched him a while in silence and remarked:
“I’ll be on the lookout, so don’t try to sneak away.”
“I’ll work my seven days,” Ned replied, trying to hide the tears that would persist in coming into his eyes. As he labored away the stock certificate, in his inside pocket, rustled. All his trouble dated from the acquisition of that, he reflected bitterly, and it was a dearly bought bit of experience.
All that afternoon Ned worked away, his heart like lead. He longed for a sight of the faces of his chums, and he wanted to hear from his father. It seemed a very long time since he had left Darewell so happy and filled with expectations of the pleasures he and his friends would enjoy in New York.
“I wonder if the boys came?” Ned thought. “I wonder what my father must think? Oh, I’ve a good notion to write to him and ask him what to do! I can’t stand it any longer!”
Ned was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He had stood about all he could, and with the poor food and the bad sleeping places, which were all he could afford, his health was in danger.
“Come now, no loafing!” exclaimed Cassidy’s coarse voice, as Ned paused a moment in his scrubbing. “When I pay a dollar and a half a day I expect good, quick work. We don’t want any idlers around here.”
Wearily Ned began to move the wet broom over the dirty boards. There were a number of unkempt men engaged in the same occupation.
“If my chums should see me now,” thought Ned.
He expected to be allowed to go to bed early as he was tired, but when Cassidy had sent him to a near-by, cheap restaurant, in company with one of the other porters, for supper, Ned found, on his return, that he was expected to clean out the office.
“Ten o’clock’s time enough to go to bed,” Cassidy told him. “The work got behind when myother man left and it’s got to be made up. I don’t want the Board of Health here, condemning the place.”
Even with all the cleaning that was done, it looked as if the Board should take some action, Ned thought.
Meanwhile William and Bart had, that same evening, visited several lodging houses. They met with no success, though the proprietors described boys who bore a resemblance to Ned, but who had only stopped one night and had then disappeared.
“We’ll find him,” said William, more cheerfully than he felt.
The two boys were walking down a side street, approaching a lodging-house they intended to visit. It was one they had not yet inspected. It was about eight o’clock and was blowing up cold. There was a feeling of snow in the air, and the boys buttoned their coats closely around them.
“Hope Ned doesn’t have to stay out in the storm like I did,” said William.
“So do I,” chimed in Bart. “I hate to think about it.”
“We’ll try this place,” William went on, as they reached the entrance to the lodging house. In the hallway a gas jet burned, and, as the ladsstarted up the stairs, they met a red moustached man coming down. At the sight of him William cried out:
“There he is!”
“Who?” asked Bart.
“The man who took Ned away!”
The next instant the two boys were besieging Cassidy with questions. The lodging-house proprietor looked bewildered a moment, and then, gathering the import of what they wanted, he exclaimed:
“Oh, you’re chums of his, eh? Belong to the same gang I s’pose? Well, you can’t come any tricks on me! If that lad is your chum he stays here until he’s worked out what he owes me!”
“What does he owe you?” demanded Bart. “Ned Wilding doesn’t need to owe anyone anything.”
“He owes me the money he stole!” Cassidy cried, “and I’m going to get it! Now, you fellows skip out of here or I’ll call the police!”
“Can’t we see Ned?” demanded William.
“No, you can’t! He’s got to stay here a week. Think I’m going to let you in and have you help him git away the way he did after he took my money?”
“He never took your money!” cried Bart.
“Clear out!” exclaimed Cassidy.
“Bart, you go get a policeman!” called William suddenly. “We’ll see about this thing. Telephone for Mr. Wilding and the boys!”
“What will you do?” asked Bart.
“I’ll stay on guard!” William replied, looking Cassidy straight in the face. “He’s not going to get Ned away from me again!”
Bart hurried down the stairs. Cassidy looked after him, a little in doubt what to make of the proceeding. Then he glanced at William.
“Here, you get out of this!” he called roughly.
“All right,” agreed William cheerfully. “It’s your place, I admit, but you’ll sing a different tune pretty soon. I’ll get out of the hallway but the street is free, and I’ll be on guard there until this thing is settled.”
“You’re too fresh!” spluttered Cassidy, as he turned and went back upstairs.
“That’s all right! You’ll get what’s coming to you pretty soon,” retorted William confidently, as he went down to the street to await the return of Bart with reinforcements.
Bart soon got into communication with Mr. Wilding, and with the two chums, at their hotel. They said they would hurry to the lodging house, and Mr. Wilding announced that he would bring a detective from headquarters, rather than have theboys ask a policeman to investigate the matter. Meanwhile, Mr. Wilding advised Bart to keep close watch on the lodging house.
William and Bart now took up their positions where they could observe the entrance to the place. They did not know there was a rear stairway, but, as Cassidy had no idea of spiriting Ned away, desiring, in fact, to only keep him secure, there was no need of guarding the back.
It seemed a long time before Mr. Wilding arrived with the detective. About the same time Frank and Fenn got to the place.
“I have told the detective all about it, as far as we know the circumstances,” Mr. Wilding said. “Are you sure Ned is in there, William?”
“Almost positive,” was the answer. “The man admitted as much. He says Ned stole money from him and has to work to pay it back.”
“We’ll soon see about it,” the detective put in. “I know Cassidy. He’s a rough sort, but he’s square I guess. Come on.”
Up the stairs they went, the hearts of the boys beating with anxiety. Mr. Wilding’s face showed the strain he was under but, as for the detective, he seemed to take it all as a matter of course. He had seen too many similar scenes to be affected.
The little party entered the main room of thelodging house. Mr. Wilding pressed forward, close behind the detective. Through the office window he caught sight of a boy scrubbing the floor. There was something dejected in the lad’s appearance. Mr. Wilding looked a second time. Then he called out:
“Ned! My boy!”
“Father!” cried Ned, and an instant later he was locked in Mr. Wilding’s embrace, while the tears, which he did not try to conceal, streamed down his face.
“Hurrah!” fairly yelled William. “We’ve found him!” and he began dancing around the room.
At the sound of William’s cry Ned looked up and saw his chums.
“Why—why—where did you all come from?” he asked.
“We came after you,” replied Bart, “and a fine chase you led us. Where in the world have you been, Ned?”
“Here! What’s all this row about in my place?” asked Cassidy, hurrying up from the rear of the resort. “You people have no right in here.”
“Easy, Cassidy,” advised the detective. “What about that boy?” and he pointed to Ned.
“Oh, it’s you, Reilly,” said Cassidy, as he recognized the officer. “Well, he robbed me!”
“No, I didn’t!” retorted Ned, hotly.
“That’s right, you didn’t kid!” exclaimed a husky voice, and a man, in ragged clothing, shuffled into the light. “He didn’t take your money, Cassidy.”
“Who did then?” asked the lodging-house keeper.
“It was Mike Jimson. I met him down the street a while ago, and he told me. Thought it was a good joke. He had a room next to you that night and he slipped in while you were asleep. He heard you accuse the kid here, but when the lad got away he thought it was all right, and the next day Mike lit out.”
“Are you sure?” asked the detective.
“Sure! Didn’t Mike tell me? He showed me some of the money. He’s spent the rest.”
“Then I’ll have him locked up!” Cassidy exclaimed. “I wonder how I could have made that mistake? I thought sure it was you who took my money,” and he looked at Ned. “I’m sorry for what I did.”
Ned was too happy over the outcome to reply. He held his father’s hand and his chums crowded around him.
“Here,” said Cassidy suddenly, holding out five one dollar bills to Ned.
“What are they for?” asked Mr. Wilding.
“Guess they’re his. Anyhow four and a half belongs to him. The rest is interest. I took ’em from under his pillow thinking they were mine. I hope you’ll let this thing drop.”
“You’ve made a serious mistake, Cassidy,” Detective Reilly said. “You are liable to be sued for damages.”
“I hope you’ll not prosecute me,” whined the lodging house keeper.
“That’s a question we can settle later,” said Mr. Wilding sternly. “Come, boys, let’s get away from here. We will go to my hotel, and then I’ll send a telegram to our friends in Darewell. They are very anxious to hear from me.”
“Will you arrest Mike and get my money back, Reilly?” asked Cassidy.
“Maybe, later,” the detective replied. “You don’t deserve it, for the trouble you caused,” and he followed Mr. Wilding and the boys to the street.
“But, Ned, it wasn’t that accusation that kept you in hiding, was it?” asked his father as they walked along.
“No—no—” Ned answered with a look atthe detective. “I guess I’m wanted on another charge?”
“Wanted on another charge? What in the world do you mean?”
“Why I bought some stock in the Mt. Olive Oil Well Company,” Ned explained, still eyeing the detective. “I got it from the brokers, Skem & Skim. I went back to have a mistake in the figures corrected and I found the firm had fled and the postal authorities were in charge of the offices. I overheard the inspector say they wanted a young fellow who had bought two hundred shares of the stock and I knew it was me, so I ran away. I didn’t want to be arrested.
“But I don’t mind, now!” he went on, as he drew the stock certificate from his pocket and handed it to his father. “You can lock me up, if you want to,” turning to the detective. “I’m tired of dodging around.”
“Let’s see that paper?” asked the officer, and he took it to a light where he could read it. As he looked it over a smile came to his face. “Well, well, you certainly had a big scare for nothing,” he remarked to Ned.
“How?”
“I know all about the case. I helped workon it. We located Skem & Skim in Boston and they’re under arrest.”
“But about me? About the two hundred shares of stock that the inspector was talking about?” asked Ned anxiously.
“Two thousand shares was what he said I guess, but you probably misunderstood him,” Mr. Reilly went on. “Yes, there was a young fellow who was mixed up in the transactions. He was a holder of two thousand shares of the stock. All there was in fact, and he was one of the main ones in working the swindle. We’re looking for him still. Why, my boy, this paper isn’t worth anything. They cheated you. There isn’t any stock in the Mt. Olive Oil Well Company except the fake two thousand shares issued to John Denton, which is the name of the other swindler we want. And so you thought the inspector meant you?”
“I did, and that’s why I ran away. I didn’t want to be arrested and bring disgrace on my father.”
“You poor boy!” exclaimed Mr. Wilding. “But it’s all over now, Ned. How in the world did you manage to live in the meanwhile?”
Ned told them part of the story as they walkedto his father’s hotel, and the remainder of it he related inside, from the time of his aunt’s departure until they found him scrubbing the lodging-house floor, including his escape down the rope.
“And we have your valise!” exclaimed Fenn. “It’s at our hotel.”
“I thought some one came along and stole it,” Ned replied. “I was afraid to ask about it for fear I’d be arrested. I didn’t even dare go for my trunk.”
“That’s safe at the depot,” said Bart, “but you’ll have to pay storage charges on it. Well, well, how this thing has worked out!”
“We’ve solved two mysteries instead of one,” Frank remarked. “Here’s William ready to go back to his mother,” and he told Ned who William was.
“So you’re the boy who was watching me this afternoon when Cassidy came for me?” Ned asked. “I was afraid you might be a detective, and so I wouldn’t admit who I was.”
“We’ll start for home in the morning,” declared Mr. Wilding.
“And maybe get into more trouble there,” put in Fenn.
“How?” asked Ned. “If there’s any more trouble I want to get it all over with at once.”
“They suspect us of blowing up the school tower!” exclaimed Frank.
“Oh, that!” cried Mr. Wilding. “I guess I forgot to tell you about that, I was so busy thinking of Ned. That’s all cleared up!”
“How?” asked Bart.
“They found out it was done by a wicked boy named Peter Sanderson. He thought it was a joke to set off a dynamite cartridge, but he found out it wasn’t. He’s been sent to the reform school and his father has to pay a big bill for damages. I got a letter from Fenn’s father this morning, telling me all about it. So you boys can go home with everything cleared up.”
“And we’ll take William with us,” said Bart.
“Yes, of course. I guess William’s troubles are over too. We need a boy in the bank, and I think he will fill the bill,” and Mr. Wilding laughed.
They were all so excited that none of them slept well that night, but they were up early and started back for Darewell.
Ned rather expected his father would express regret at the loss of the hundred dollars, for Detective Reilly said there was little chance of the money ever being recovered. Mr. Wilding, however,did not refer to it, until Ned, anxious to know how his parent felt, remarked:
“I guess I’m not much of a business man, dad.”
“Why so?” inquired Mr. Wilding with a smile.
“Why, I lost my hundred dollars the first thing.”
“Not exactly lost it, Ned, though you haven’t got it. You can consider that you bought a hundred dollars worth of experience, and I think you got quite a lot for your money.”
“I certainly did,” replied Ned with conviction.
“By the way,” his father went on. “I got a telegram from your aunt. Her niece in Chicago is not as ill as was at first believed, and Mrs. Kenfield is coming home soon. She wants you boys to stay and visit her. Your uncle will be home from Europe in another week.”
“I think I’d rather go home for a while,” answered Ned.
“Well, everything came out all right,” remarked Bart as he and Fenn sat together looking from the car windows as they approached their destination.
“Yes, everything is right but Frank,” replied Fenn. “He’s been acting strangely lately,” andhe nodded toward his chum who sat alone in a seat on the other side of the car.
“I wonder what ails him?” Bart remarked.
“I’d like to find out. It certainly is something strange,” went on Fenn. What the mystery was will be told in the third volume of this series, to be called, “Frank Roscoe’s Secret.”
A little later the train drew into the Darewell depot. There was quite a crowd to welcome the boys, for their story was partly known. Mr. Wilding had telegraphed to the families of Ned’s chums, that the mystery was solved and the trouble at last ended.
“Did you see any great actors, Fenn?” asked Jennie as she greeted the boys. “Tell me all about them.”
“The only actor we saw was John Newton, the ‘Marvelous Bird Warbler,’” replied Fenn, “and we left him there. He certainly can whistle.”
“Oh, tell us all about it!” begged Alice. “Did you see any accidents?”
“Didn’t have time,” her brother replied. “But come on home. I want to see the folks.”
There we will take leave of the boys and girls, as they trooped up the platform, talking, laughing, and asking and answering scores of questions. Only two in the crowd were rather silent. Frank,who seemed gloomy and depressed, and William. But William was only quiet because of the great happiness he felt in knowing he would soon see his mother and sisters, from whom he had been so long separated. Two hours later he was with them, telling all about the way the chums found him, and of Ned’s disappearance so strangely solved with his aid.