"No, you shall keep the money," she replied. "I have as much as I will ever need."
In a few minutes more Mrs. Talbot retired. James Talbot walked the sitting-room floor with considerable satisfaction.
"Ten thousand dollars will be a nice sum," he mused, rubbing his horny hands together. "Robert, eh? Well, he'll never see the cash, I'll give James Talbot's word on that! It will be several years before he becomes of age, and who knows how much more of the fortune will come my way before that time?"
The morning paper contained a long and semi-humorous account of the performance of "All for Love." It said the actors and actresses were probably well-meaning amateurs who had yet much to learn before they would become successful in their profession. They advised the butler in the play to perfect himself in the part of a stuttering comedian! By the account it was evident that the play had come to a conclusion in a perfect uproar, and that many in the audience had demanded their money back.
James Talbot had gone off to his real estate office, to perfect his plans for opening up in Chicago, when the door-bell rang and Jane announced a visitor to see Mrs. Talbot.
"He gives his name as Livingston Palmer," said Jane.
"Livingston Palmer?" mused the lady of the house. "Why, where have I heard that before? Oh, I remember now. It was on that theatrical programme," and she looked it up to make sure. "He was that butler who started all the trouble. What can he want of me?"
She descended to the parlor to greet her visitor. Livingston Palmer was seated on the edge of a chair, his face far more careworn than ever before, and his clothing much soiled and torn.
"Good-morning," he said humbly. "This is Mrs. Talbot, who used to be Mrs. Frost, I believe."
"Yes," she answered.
"I am a stranger to you, madam, but I come from Chicago, and I am well acquainted with your son Robert."
"Indeed!" cried Mrs. Talbot, and her whole manner changed. "Is Robert in Chicago?"
"He is—or at least he was when I left there, two days ago."
"Can you tell me what he is doing?"
"He and I were clerks in a cut-rate ticket office. But a fire threw us both out of employment."
"And you joined a theatrical company," added Mrs. Talbot.
"How do you know that?"
"I was at the opera house last night and saw you on the stage."
For once in his life Livingston Palmer's face grew as red as a beet.
"You—er—witnessed that unfortunate affair," he stammered. "I—I——"
"I thought you were new at acting," said the lady candidly. "It was, as you say, unfortunate."
"The people used us meanly," exclaimed Palmer. "I was struck in half a dozen places, and my coat was nearly torn from my back, and in the struggle to get away I lost my money and could not find it again."
"When was this? I came away at the conclusion of the second act."
"It was after the play was over. A regular mob congregated around the stage door, and we could scarcely escape with our lives. I never shall go on the stage again, never!" And Palmer shook his head bitterly. He meant what he said, and let it be recorded here that he kept his word.
CHAPTER XXV.
ANOTHER TALK ABOUT ROBERT.
Mrs. Talbot saw plainly that Livingston Palmer was suffering, both from humiliation and from the manner in which he had been treated physically, and her heart was touched.
"I am very sorry for you, Mr. Palmer," she said. "If there is anything I can do for you I will do it willingly. But I would first like to hear something of my son."
"I will tell you all I know," answered the young man quickly. "I was in hope that Robert's mother might aid me. We have been good friends. He's a splendid lad."
"Yes, Robert is a good boy and always was. Is he well?"
"Perfectly well, and was, as I said before, doing finely, until the fire threw us both out."
"How much was he getting a week?"
"Five dollars."
"I do not call that very good," cried Mrs. Talbot. "He cannot live very well on that in such a city as Chicago."
"He told me he had an allowance besides."
"An allowance?" Mrs. Talbot looked puzzled. "I can't understand that. I made him no allowance, for he would not permit it. He said he was going to make his own way in the world."
"Well, I can only tell you what he said," returned Livingston Palmer.
"Will you give me his address, so that I can write to him?"
"Why, haven't you his address? I am sure he wrote to you."
"I never got the letter." And then Mrs. Talbot's face flushed, as she remembered about the letter her husband had destroyed. Had she been deceived in the matter, after all?
"Then I will write the address down for you," said Palmer, and did so.
A long talk followed, and the young man told Mrs. Talbot all he knew about Robert, and also mentioned Dick Marden, but not in such a way that the lady suspected the allowance Robert received came from the miner.
Palmer frankly admitted that he was without means of any sort.
"If I were in Chicago, this would not matterso much," he added. "But in Granville I know nobody but you and the members of our company, or rather the company to which I belonged. I was discharged, and Dixon refuses to even give me my carfare back to the city."
"I shall be pleased to give you what you need," replied Mrs. Talbot. "I am overjoyed to learn that Robert is well. I am going to pay Chicago a visit soon, and then if he will not come to me I will go to him."
"He will come to you fast enough, madam. It is only his step-father whom he dreads."
"Yes, yes, I know." Mrs. Talbot thought best to change the subject. "Will you not have breakfast with me, Mr. Palmer?"
"With pleasure," answered the young man. "But I—er—I would like to brush and wash up first."
"To be sure." Mrs. Talbot surveyed him critically. "I really believe some of Robert's clothing would fit you. At least his coat would."
"Yes, his coat would."
"Then I can perhaps replace that torn garment you are wearing."
Mrs. Talbot was as good as her word, and half an hour later Livingston Palmer came down from the room Robert had occupied, thoroughlybrushed and washed and wearing a coat and vest which had belonged to the boy. They were rather tight, it is true, but they were almost new, and a vast improvement over the ragged garments Palmer had worn upon presenting himself.
A substantial breakfast followed, of fish, omelet, hot rolls, and coffee, and it is perhaps needless to say that Palmer did full justice to all that was set before him. And small wonder, for he had eaten nothing since the afternoon of the day before.
It was nearly noon before the young man prepared to take his departure, with twenty dollars in his pocket, which he had insisted should be a loan only, to be paid back as soon as the opportunity afforded.
"I am very grateful to you, Mrs. Talbot," he said, on parting. "You have treated me like a king. Why Robert should leave such a home and such a mother I can't understand."
Mrs. Talbot was visibly affected.
"It was entirely on his step-father's account, Mr. Palmer. Robert is high spirited and would not bend as Mr. Talbot wished."
"Then let me be bold enough to say that I imagine Robert was in the right."
To this Mrs. Talbot made no reply. But shebegged Palmer to keep an eye on her son, and if anything went wrong to let her know by sending her a letter in care of the postmaster, and marked for personal delivery only. Then Palmer hurried away, to catch the first train he could for the great city by the lakes.
When her visitor was gone Mrs. Talbot sat down to review the situation in her mind. Her thoughts were not pleasant ones. Her second marriage was proving to be anything but agreeable. She realized that her husband was not the man she had imagined him to be.
Dinner was on the table at twelve, for Mr. Talbot insisted on having his main meal at mid-day. Yet the man did not come in until nearly half an hour later, and then he appeared to be much put out about something.
"I understand you had a visitor this morning," he began, as he and his wife sat down to the table, and Jane brought on the food.
"Yes."
"Some friend of that reckless son of yours," went on Mr. Talbot. "What did Robert send him for, money?"
Mrs. Talbot was surprised.
"How did you learn my visitor was a friend of Robert?" she asked.
"I got it from Sproggens at the depot. He was talking with the fellow while he was waiting for a train. I hope you didn't encourage him, Sarah. If the boy sees fit to run away and stay away, let him make his own way."
"That is just what Robert is doing, James," cried the lady, her face flushing.
"Then why did Robert send that young man here?"
"He didn't send him here."
"Humph!" James Talbot was on the point of saying that he did not believe the statement, but cut himself short. If he angered his wife now he might have trouble in getting the five or ten thousand dollars she had said she would loan him.
"The young man belonged to that theatrical company we went to see," continued Mrs. Talbot. "He knew Robert and so he thought he would call here and see me."
"What did he have to say about the boy?"
"He said Robert had been doing very well, but a fire burnt out the office in which he was employed."
"And what is the boy doing now?"
"Nothing, just at present."
"He won't find it easy to get another opening."
"Mr. Palmer said Robert might go up to Michigan in a few days. He had to do something for a man interested in some timber lands in the upper part of that State."
"Humph! I shouldn't wonder if the boy came home soon. He'll get tired of roughing it."
"Robert has a stout heart, Mr. Talbot, and I doubt if he ever comes home so long as you are here."
And with these words Mrs. Talbot arose and swept from the dining room, hardly having touched a mouthful of the food Jane had taken so much pains to prepare.
James Talbot finished his meal in silence, and ate as heartily as ever, for seldom did anything interfere with his appetite. From the kitchen Jane eyed him in a manner which was anything but agreeable.
"The old gorilla," she said to herself, as she rattled the pans angrily. "He ought to be thrown out of the house. If it wasn't for the poor mistress, sure and I wouldn't stay another minute. I wish the victuals would choke him." And then she vowed that the next time she fixed the dessert she would make Mr. Talbot's portion so bad that he could not eat it.
CHAPTER XXVI.
ROBERT SPEAKS HIS MIND.
Robert waited for two days for a letter from Dick Marden. In the meantime he went down to the police station twice to learn if anything had been found out about Jim Huskin.
"We telegraphed to Muskegon and several other points," said the officer in charge. "But so far no one has seen the rascal."
In the evening mail of the second day came two letters for the boy, both of which he perused with great interest.
The first was from his mother, telling of the meeting with Livingston Palmer, and of what the would-be actor had told her.
"I am glad to hear that you have not suffered so far, Robert," she wrote. "But I am afraid that the fire may prove an unexpected set-back for you, and so I enclose twenty dollars, which may come in useful. So far I have received no letterfrom you, although Mr. Palmer says you have written. When you write again send it in care of the postmaster, and mark it for personal delivery only. Then I am sure Mr. Blarcomb will give it to me and to nobody else."
"I am glad to hear that you have not suffered so far, Robert," she wrote. "But I am afraid that the fire may prove an unexpected set-back for you, and so I enclose twenty dollars, which may come in useful. So far I have received no letterfrom you, although Mr. Palmer says you have written. When you write again send it in care of the postmaster, and mark it for personal delivery only. Then I am sure Mr. Blarcomb will give it to me and to nobody else."
It may be imagined that Robert was indignant.
"I'll wager old Talbot stole that letter," he told himself. "And I guess mother thinks as much. Oh, what a mistake she made in marrying that man! I'll write her another letter this very night." And he did so, and posted it before retiring. In the communication he told her to beware of his step-father and not trust him in money matters, as she might be very sorry for it.
"It's best to open her eyes," he reasoned, "even if it does cause her pain."
The second letter was from Dick Marden, enclosing the order from Felix Amberton for the map. In this the old miner urged Robert to obtain the document at the earliest possible moment.
"Our enemies are hedging us in and intend to proceed against us in the county court in a day or two," he added. "As soon as we get the map we will know just where we stand, and our lawyer will know exactly what claims he can make.My uncle is of the opinion that the other side is making a big bluff in the hope that we will offer to compromise."
"Our enemies are hedging us in and intend to proceed against us in the county court in a day or two," he added. "As soon as we get the map we will know just where we stand, and our lawyer will know exactly what claims he can make.My uncle is of the opinion that the other side is making a big bluff in the hope that we will offer to compromise."
"I'll go and get the document the first thing in the morning," Robert told himself. "And if all goes well I'll be on my way to Timberville by noon."
With the money recovered from Andy Cross, and with what his mother had sent to him, he now had ample funds for the trip. After writing the letter to his parent, he packed his valise, that nothing might delay his start.
A surprise awaited him the next morning just after he had left the dining room, and while he was telling Mrs. Gibbs that he intended to go away, to be gone an indefinite time.
"A gentleman to see Mr. Frost," announced the girl, and entering the parlor Robert found himself confronted by his step-father.
"Good-morning, Robert," said James Talbot, smiling affably and extending his hand.
"Good-morning, Mr. Talbot," replied our hero coldly. He pretended not to see the outstretched hand.
"I suppose you are surprised to see me here," began Mr. Talbot awkwardly.
"I am surprised. How did you learn my address?"
"Never mind that now, Robert. I came to see how you are getting along."
"You ought to know. You got my letter, even if my mother didn't," answered Robert bitterly.
"I got no letter, my lad, upon my honor I did not. I came out of pure friendliness to you."
"Then let me tell you that I am doing very well."
"I heard something about your being out of work on account of a fire."
"Did Mr. Gray tell you?"
"Never mind who told me." James Talbot cleared his throat. "As you are out of work I thought perhaps that you would like to come to work for me."
"Work for you!"
"Exactly. I don't mean for you to go back to Granville. I am going to open a real-estate office in Chicago, and I shall want a clerk. I understand that you take to that sort of thing."
"I don't believe I'll take to clerking for you," returned Robert bluntly.
"Ahem! That is rather harsh of you, Robert. I mean to do well by you. Why not take a freshstart? I am sure we shall get along very well together."
"Are you going to give up the office you opened in Granville?"
"Not just yet. But I may in the future—after the office here is in full blast. I expect to make a big thing of the business here."
"A big business here means the investment of a lot of money," said the boy shrewdly. "Where is that to come from?"
"Never mind about the money. It will be forthcoming as it is needed."
"Is my mother going to let you have some of her money?"
"If she did, it would be no more than right that she should depend upon her husband in her investments."
"I wouldn't advise her to depend upon you. With your own money you can do as you please, but I don't think you ought to touch any of her funds."
"You are decidedly plain-spoken, boy!" cried James Talbot, frowning.
"Because one must speak plainly to such a man as you, Mr. Talbot. I don't know why my mother married you, but I think I know why you married my mother."
"And why?"
"To get hold of her money."
James Talbot leaped from the chair upon which he had been sitting. He was enraged, but quickly calmed himself.
"You are entirely mistaken, boy, entirely mistaken. Why, I have all the money I want."
"I saw you borrow fifty dollars from my mother once."
"Merely a bit of accommodation because I didn't have the cash handy. Why I can draw my check for twenty or thirty thousand dollars if I wish to."
Robert did not believe the statement. Yet as he had no way to disprove it, he remained silent on the point.
"Then you are going to use your own money entirely in this real estate venture in Chicago?"
"Well—er—most likely. Of course I may become pushed for ready cash at times and will then look to your mother to help me out a little. Every man, no matter how well off, gets pushed at times, when he cannot turn his securities into ready cash, you know."
"I shall advise my mother to keep her fortune in her own hands."
"You will!" James Talbot became more enraged than ever. "Don't you dare to interfere between my wife and myself."
"I will do all I can to keep her money out of your reach."
"Perhaps you want it yourself?" sneered Talbot.
"No, I want her to keep it and enjoy it as long as she lives. I don't believe you are any kind of a business manager, and if she put the money in your care she might be a beggar in a year or two."
"Boy, boy, this to me! me, your father!" cried Talbot.
"You are not my father, Mr. Talbot, and you need not call yourself such. My father was a far better man than you are, I can tell you that. He made his own way in the world, just as I am trying to do, and ask no favors from anybody."
"You are impertinent—a thorough good-for-nothing!" howled James Talbot, hardly knowing what to say. "I want to do you a kindness, and this is the way you receive me. I will not speak to you longer. But don't you dare to set my wife against me, or there will be trouble, mind that—there will be trouble!"
And thus talking he left the parlor, clapped his silk hat on his head, and dashed from the boarding house.
CHAPTER XXVII.
MR. TALBOT RECEIVES ANOTHER SET-BACK.
"He's in a rage, it's easy to see that. I wonder what he will do next?"
Such was the mental question Robert asked when he found himself once more alone.
James Talbot had tried a little plan of his own, and it had failed and left him in a worse position than before.
He had hoped by offering Robert a good salary—to be paid out of Mrs. Talbot's money—to get the youth under his thumb. But our hero had refused to have anything to do with him and had threatened to do all he could to induce Mrs. Talbot to keep her fortune in her own control.
"He's a regular imp," muttered James Talbot, as he hurried down the street, so enraged that he scarcely knew where he was walking. "If he writes home to his mother it will be harder than ever to do anything with her. I wish he was at the bottom of the sea!"
His soliloquy was brought to a sudden and unexpected termination when he passed around a corner and ran full tilt into another individual. Both went sprawling, and both were for the instant deprived of their wind.
"Who—what—?" spluttered James Talbot, as he picked himself up.
"You fool, you!" panted the other individual. "What do you mean by driving into me in this fashion?"
"I—I didn't see you," answered Talbot.
"You must be blind," stormed the party who had been knocked down.
"I'm not blind. I—I—was in a tremendous hurry." James Talbot looked at the other man curiously. "I—er—I—think I've met you before."
"I don't remember you."
"Isn't your name Livingston Palmer?"
"It is."
"I saw you in Granville—at the theater, and later on at the railroad station."
Palmer, for it was really he, flushed up.
"Perhaps you belonged to that mob that assaulted our troupe," he sneered. "Your actions here are in the same line."
"No, I had no fault to find with the theatrical company," returned James Talbot slowly. Themeeting had surprised him greatly, and he began to wonder how he might turn it to account. "I wonder if you know who I am?" he added, after a pause.
"I can't say that I do."
"I am James Talbot, the husband of the lady upon whom you called."
"Oh! Then you are Robert Frost's step-father," exclaimed Livingston Palmer.
"I am. May I ask what induced you to call upon my wife?"
Again Palmer flushed up.
"I think, Mr. Talbot, that that was my affair."
"Do you mean to say you refuse to tell?"
"Well, if you must know, I will tell you—so that Mrs. Talbot may not get into trouble over it. Your townpeople treated me so shabbily that I called upon your wife for a small loan, so that I might get back to Chicago."
"Humph! Then Robert didn't send you to see her?"
"No, Robert knew nothing about my going to Granville."
"I thought you and he were great friends?"
"So we are, but he didn't know where I was going when we separated."
"A likely story," sneered James Talbot. "I believe that boy sent you to my wife with a message."
"You can think as you please," cried Palmer hotly. "I have told you the plain truth. But I guess Robert will have to send a private messenger, since his letters don't reach his mother."
The shot told, and James Talbot grew pale for the moment. Then he recovered himself.
"I won't stand any of your slurs, young man. I reckon you are no better than Robert."
"I don't want to be any better than Robert. He's a first-rate fellow."
"He is an impudent cub."
"That is only your opinion."
"I am his step-father, and in the eyes of the law I am as a real father to him. Yet instead of minding me he openly defies me."
"I don't know but what I would do the same," answered Palmer coolly.
"I want to do what is right by him—make something of him—but he won't let me do it."
"He is able to take care of himself."
"No, he is not. Sooner or later he'll be going to the dogs."
"He told me all about how you had treated him. I don't blame him for leaving home, although it may be possible that he would have done better by sticking to his mother."
"Do you mean to insinuate that his mother may need him?"
"I don't wonder if she does, Mr. Talbot. As I understand the matter she is rich."
"Well?"
"It would be a great temptation for some husbands to try to get that money in their own hands."
James Talbot grew crimson.
"You insult me!" he ejaculated.
Livingston Palmer shrugged his shoulders.
"You can take it as you please. I didn't stop you. You ran into me and knocked me down."
"Where are you going?"
"That is my affair."
"You are going to call upon Robert."
"Perhaps I am."
"If you do, let me warn you not to talk about me and my wife. Did she send the boy a message?"
"If she did I shan't deliver it to you," answered Livingston Palmer, and proceeded on his way. James Talbot gazed after him in anger and disappointment.
"Another who is against me," he muttered."I must hurry my schemes, or it will be too late to put them through."
Livingston Palmer had just reached Mrs. Gibbs' boarding house when he met Robert coming out, on his way to see Herman Wenrich about the map.
"Robert!" cried the former clerk. "I'm glad I caught you."
"Why, Livingston, I thought you were on the road," returned Robert, as he shook hands.
"Not much! No more theatrical life for me," said Palmer.
"What, have you had enough already?"
"Yes, and got it in your native town, too."
"In Granville?"
"Exactly. We opened in Granville and we busted in Granville," said Palmer, and in such a dubious fashion that our hero could scarcely keep from laughing outright.
"What, has the Dixon Combination Comedy Company gone to pieces?"
"It has—at least so far as I am concerned. Dixon isn't going to show again until the performers have rehearsed for another couple of weeks."
Palmer did not wish to go into the details of his bitter experience, so without delay he beganto tell of his visit to Mrs. Talbot and of what she had done and said, and then before Robert could interrupt him he told of the meeting with James Talbot.
"Yes, my step-father was here," said Robert. "I am satisfied that he is not to be trusted. I shall write my mother a long letter about him as soon as I can get the chance. But now I must be off, as I have some important business to attend to for Mr. Marden. What are you going to do?"
"I am going to call upon Mr. Gray and see if he intends to open up again," answered Livingston Palmer. "After this office life will be good enough for me."
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE CONSPIRATORS ARE DISGUSTED.
Less than an hour later found Robert at Herman Wenrich's modest home. A ring at the door bell brought Nettie Wenrich, who smiled pleasantly upon seeing our hero.
"My father is much better, thank you," said the girl, in reply to Robert's question concerning her parent's health. "I was afraid he would not get well before, but now I am sure he will."
"I am glad to hear that," answered the boy.
"Those men were here again," went on Nettie. "They are very anxious to get the map, and they offered my father fifty dollars for it."
"They offered two hundred dollars," came from the bedchamber, for Robert and Nettie were ascending the stairs, and old Herman Wenrich had overheard the talk. "The fifty dollar offer was only their first."
The old lumberman shook hands cordially.
"But you have the map, haven't you?" questioned Robert eagerly.
"To be sure I have, my lad. Herman Wenrich's word is as good as his bond."
"You know I am authorized to give you a hundred dollars," went on Robert.
"And didn't I say I didn't want a cent from Felix Amberton?" cried the old man. "All I want is that order, to make certain that I am not going astray—not but what you look honest enough."
"Here is the order, just received by mail," and Robert handed it over.
Herman Wenrich had his daughter bring spectacles and he perused the paper with great care.
"That's all right—I know Amberton's signature well—saw it on many a check he gave me. You shall have the map. Nettie, bring me my tin box."
"I will, father," answered the daughter, and left the room.
"What did those men have to say when you told them that I had said they were not working for Felix Amberton's interest?" asked Robert while she was gone.
"I didn't tell them anything about it. I merely told them to hold off for a day or two, and I would consider their offer."
"They'll be mad when they learn the truth."
"I shall show them this order for the map. They probably know Amberton's signature as well as I do."
"Perhaps so."
"I suppose you are going to send that to Timberville by the first mail."
"I am going to take it up myself. Mr. Marden wants to come up."
"You will find it a wild section of the country—a good bit different from around here."
"I shan't mind that—in fact, I think I'll rather like the change."
"It's a good place for a fellow who is strong and healthy. There are fortunes in the lumber business."
"I've no doubt of it."
"I went into the district a poor man, and worked at cutting lumber at a dollar and a half a day. Inside of fifteen years I came out something like twelve thousand dollars ahead. Of course that isn't a fortune, but you must remember that I lost about ten thousand dollars by two spring freshets which carried off nearly all I at those times possessed. If I had remained there I would have been better off. But I came to Chicago and speculated, and now my fortune amounts to very little, I can tell you that."
By this time Nettie came back with a long tin box painted black. It was locked, and the key was in a pocketbook under the sick man's pillow. Soon the box was opened and Herman Wenrich took out a paper yellow with age.
"This is the map," he said. "If I were you I would be very careful of how I handled it, or it may go to pieces. Nettie, haven't you a big envelope in which to place it?"
"I think I have, father," she replied, and went off to hunt up the article.
During her absence Robert looked over the document, and found that it contained not only a map but also a long written description of several lumber tracts, including that which Felix Amberton had once purchased from a man named Gregory Hammerditch.
"This must be some relative to the Hammerditch I met," said our hero.
"It was an uncle. The trouble started through this Gregory Hammerditch and the Canadian, Jean Le Fevre. They claimed the land was never paid for, I believe."
At that moment came a ring at the front door bell.
"It is those two men!" cried Nettie, who stood close to the window.
"You mean the Canadian and the Englishman?" asked Robert.
"Yes."
"Do you wish to meet them?" questioned Herman Wenrich. "If so, I have no objection."
"I would like to hear what they have to say, sir."
"You can go into the back bedroom, if you wish."
The idea struck Robert as a good one, and while Nettie went below to let the visitors in our hero entered the rear apartment, leaving the door open several inches.
Soon he heard Hammerditch and Le Fevre ascending the stairs.
"Good-morning," said both, as they came in and sat down close to Herman Wenrich's bedside.
"Good-morning," replied the old lumberman shortly.
"Well, I trust you have decided to sell us the map," continued the Englishman.
"I have decided not to do so."
"Indeed." The faces of both men fell. "The map is of no use to you, Mr. Wenrich," went on Hammerditch.
"That may be true."
"And it is no more than right that we should have it."
"Dat is so," said the Canadian. "Ze map should be ours."
"You said Mr. Amberton had sent you for the map," said Herman Wenrich.
"So he did," answered Hammerditch, and Le Fevre nodded.
"Did he give you a written order?"
"He did not. He didn't think it was necessary."
"I have received a written order—or rather, a written request, for it."
At this both of the visitors were dumfounded.
"A written order?" gasped Hammerditch.
"Yes."
"By mail?"
"No, a young man brought it."
"Ze order must be von forgery!" came from the French Canadian.
"Certainly it must be a forgery," added his companion.
"It is no forgery, gentlemen."
The voice came from the rear doorway, and Robert confronted them.
"Who are you?" demanded Hammerditch roughly.
"My name is Robert Frost."
"I never heard of you before."
"I am a friend to Mr. Richard Marden, the nephew of Felix Amberton."
"And you come for ze map?" queried Jean Le Fevre.
"Yes."
"It's an outrage!" burst out Hammerditch. "The map belongs to us."
"No, it belongs to Mr. Wenrich."
"What do you intend to do with it?"
"I intend to turn it over to Mr. Amberton and Mr. Marden."
"It will do them no good."
"I think it will."
"Amberton shall never have that timber land."
"How will you stop him?"
"Never mind, he shall never have it."
"We haf ze other map," said Le Fevre.
"There isn't any other map," put in Herman Wenrich.
"Yes, there is," said Hammerditch.
"Perhaps it's one you had made down to Cresson & Page," said Robert, mentioning the firm of mapmakers, to whom he had applied for a situation.
Both Le Fevre and Hammerditch were amazed.
"What do you know of that?" demanded the Englishman.
"He haf played ze part of a spy!" hissed the French Canadian.
"I have spied upon nobody. I was at Cresson & Page's place when you came there, and I couldn't help overhear what you said about the map."
"Bah, he is a spy, sure enough," ejaculated Hammerditch, in disgust. "Jean, we have played into the hands of our enemies."
"Zat is so, but it shall do zem no good," answered the Canadian. "We haf better git back to Timberville as soon as possible," he added, in a whisper.
"I reckon you are about right," said Hammerditch. He bowed himself toward the door.
"You are going?" asked Herman Wenrich.
"Yes, we are going. You have played us for a pair of fools," replied the Englishman.
He ran down the stairs, with Le Fevre at his heels. Soon both were outside and stalking up the street rapidly. Robert began to laugh.
"They are a pair of rascals," he remarked. "I am awfully glad I outwitted them."
"So am I glad," answered Herman Wenrich.
"And I am glad, too," said Nettie, with abright smile. "But if I were you I wouldn't lose any time in getting to Timberville with the map."
"I will leave this afternoon," answered the boy.
CHAPTER XXIX.
A LUCKY CHANGE OF STATEROOMS.
Robert found that the afternoon boat for Muskegon left at half past three, so there was still time left in which to get back to Mrs. Gibbs' house for a late dinner.
At the boarding house he found a short note from Livingston Palmer.
"Mr. Gray is going to go into business again," it read; "with one office here and another in New York. He is going to take me back and he says you can return too, if you desire."
"Mr. Gray is going to go into business again," it read; "with one office here and another in New York. He is going to take me back and he says you can return too, if you desire."
"That's nice," thought Robert. "But I'll have to see Dick Marden before I decide upon what's best to do next."
While waiting for dinner he penned a hasty reply to the note, and also a letter to his mother. In the latter he mentioned that he had seen Palmer, and that his step-father had called upon him,and urged her to keep her financial affairs entirely under her own control. He was careful to send the letter in care of Mr. Blarcomb, for personal delivery only.
"She'll get that, I know," he said to himself. "And I hope it does some good."
At the proper time our hero went down to the dock and boarded theArrow, as the steamer was named. He found about two hundred passengers besides himself bound for Muskegon and other points along the Michigan shore. Besides passengers theArrowcarried a large quantity of baggage and freight.
The distance from Chicago to Muskegon is about one hundred and twenty-five miles. TheArrowwas rather a slow boat and did not reach the latter point until some time in the early morning, so that Robert must spend a night on board. This being so, he lost no time in obtaining a berth.
He had just turned away from the clerk's office when he saw two men approaching. They were Hammerditch and Le Fevre.
"Hullo, they are going too," he thought, and was about to step out of sight, when the Englishman espied him.
"Humph! so you are going with us," said the man, with a scowl.
"Not with you," answered Robert quietly. "I believe this is a public boat."
"You have been following us again."
"Excuse me, Mr. Hammerditch, but I never followed you in my life."
"Then why are you on this boat?"
"Because I am going to take a trip in her."
"To Muskegon?"
"That is my affair."
"I suppose if we get off at Muskegon you will get off too."
"Perhaps I shall."
"Don't you know that you may get into a good deal of trouble through following us, young man?"
"As I said before, I am not following you. I have my own business to attend to and I am attending to it."
"Bah, do you think we will believe zat," burst in Jean Le Fevre. "You are von spy. Perhaps you are von—vot you call heem?—von detective."
At this Robert laughed. "No, I am no detective. Only a young fellow out for business."
"Zen you are on ze way to Timberville, hey?"
"If I am that is my business."
At this the French Canadian began to dance around and shook his fist in Robert's face.
"I know you!" he shouted. "But ve vill see who comes out best! Ha! ve vill see zat!"
"Hush!" interrupted Hammerditch. "Don't raise a disturbance on the boat," and he led his companion away to the upper deck.
"I shall have to keep my eye on them," thought Robert. "That Frenchmen wouldn't like anything better than to get into a fight. I might fight one of them, but I don't think I could get the best of both."
Once on the upper deck and away from observation, Hammerditch began to talk earnestly to his companion.
"We made a mistake by quarreling with him," he said.
"I cannot see eet," muttered Le Fevre.
"If we had made friends with him he might have shown us the map."
"Ha! zat is so."
"I would give a good lot to get hold of the map," continued the Englishman. "Our false map may help us some, but that real map ought to be out of the way."
At this Le Fevre clutched his companion by the arm.
"I haf an idee," he whispered. "Let us see if ze boy has got a stateroom."
"We can find that out at the office."
"And if he is to sleep alone."
"All right."
A little later they went to the office and looked over the register.
"Here he is—Robert Frost, room 45," said Hammerditch.
"Anybody else in zat room?"
They looked over the register, but could find nobody else.
"He will haf ze room all to himself," chuckled Jean Le Fevre. "Now if I can find a way to open ze door——"
"You mean to search his valise for the map?"
"To be sure."
"A good idea. We must work the plan, by all means," replied Hammerditch.
In the meantime Robert had gone to the bow of the boat and was enjoying the sea breeze.
Presently the clerk of the boat came up, followed by two burly Germans.
"I believe this is Mr. Robert Frost," said the clerk.
"That's my name," answered Robert, wondering what was wanted.
"These gentlemen are brothers and desire a stateroom together," explained the clerk. "Ifyou do not mind I would like to put you in stateroom No. 50, along with a very nice gentleman named Porter, and give these gentlemen No. 45. Otherwise I will have to put one of them with you and one with Mr. Porter. They prefer to be together."
"It vill pe a great favor," said one of the Germans politely.
"All right, I would just as lief go in with the gentleman you mentioned," answered Robert.
"Dank you very mooch," said the German.
"You vos very kind," added his brother.
"All right then, that's settled," said the clerk. "Mr. Frost, I will have your baggage transferred, if you will give me your key."
"I will transfer the baggage myself and take a look at the other stateroom," rejoined Robert.
Our hero and the clerk went below, and Robert took his bag to stateroom No. 50, which was better than the other. Mr. Porter sat outside of the door reading a newspaper, and the clerk introduced the pair. The stranger proved to be a Chicago hardware merchant on his way into Michigan on a business trip.
"I am glad to know you," he said, smiling pleasantly. "I hate to travel alone when there is the chance of an agreeable companion."
"Thank you! I think I can say the same," replied Robert, with a smile.
The boy retired at ten o'clock, and Mr. Porter with him. Soon Robert was sound asleep.
The Germans had gone to bed early, and both were in the land of dreams and snoring lustily when Jean Le Fevre and Hammerditch stole up to the door of stateroom 45.
"This is the one," whispered the French Canadian. "I was lucky to get the pincers, hey?"
"Hush, make no noise, the boy may be awake," said the Englishman, warningly.
While Hammerditch stood on guard Le Fevre inserted a small pincers in the key-hole of the door and managed to turn the key, which was stuck in from the other side.
Then the Frenchman opened the door several inches.
"Ha! he is snoring loudly—he is fast asleep," he thought, not noticing that two persons were in the stateroom instead of one, for the German in the upper berth happened just then to be silent.
In the dim light the French Canadian made out a valise standing on the floor and grabbed it hastily. Then he came away, shutting the door behind him.
"I haf eet!" he whispered. "Come!" And healmost ran for the stateroom assigned to him and Hammerditch. Once inside, the pair secured the door and then turned up the light.
"It's a mighty rusty-looking bag," was the Englishman's comment. "Have you got the key?"
"It ees in ze lock," answered La Fevre.
Soon the valise was opened, and out tumbled a few articles of dirty underwear and a pair of embroidered slippers.
"I don't see any map!" exclaimed Hammerditch, in disgust.
"'Tis ze wrong bag!" groaned the French Canadian. "See, ze clothing is too big for a boy, and so are ze slippers."
"You've made a mess of it," answered his companion. "Better take that bag back or there'll be a jolly row all for nothing."
Much crestfallen, Le Fevre took the bag back. On his second visit he saw both Germans, and he retreated even more speedily than he had on his first trip to the stateroom.
"The cake is dough," announced Hammerditch. "But though we are foiled this time, we must get that map away from the boy, no matter at what cost."
CHAPTER XXX.
ANOTHER PLOT AGAINST ROBERT.
Robert enjoyed his sleep, and did not awaken until after theArrowhad tied up at the dock in Muskegon. He was just finishing his toilet when Mr. Porter opened his eyes.
"Ah, so you are ahead of me!" cried the hardware dealer, springing up. "Have we arrived?"
"I believe we have," answered Robert.
"May I ask where you are bound?"
"For the depot. I am going to take a train for Timberville."
"I know the place and the route well. You cannot get a train for Timberville until eleven o'clock. Here is a time-table." And selecting one of several from his pocket, Mr. Porter passed it over.
A short examination showed Robert that his friend was right.
"It's a long wait," he said.
"It will give you time for breakfast and a chance to look around. Supposing we dine together?"
"Thank you! that will suit me first-rate."
In less than half an hour they had left the boat, and were walking up the main street of Muskegon. The gentleman knew the place well, and led the way to a substantial restaurant where a good meal could be had at a reasonable figure.
Hammerditch and Le Fevre had followed the youth, and now came to a halt outside of the eating resort.
"He seems to have picked up a friend," said the Englishman. "That will make our task so much harder."
"Perhaps ze man vill not remain wid heem," suggested Le Fevre.
Satisfied that Robert and his companion would not come out immediately, the pair went to another restaurant and procured a hasty breakfast.
Mr. Porter expected to do considerable business in Muskegon, and breakfast over, he shook Robert by the hand cordially.
"We must part now," he said. "I am glad to have met you, and trust we shall meet again."
"The same to you, Mr. Porter," replied ourhero. "I wish you were going to Timberville with me."
"I'm afraid I wouldn't do much there. There is only one small store and two or three sawmills. Of course, they use some hardware, but not a great deal."
And thus they parted.
By consulting a clock Robert found he had still two hours to wait before the departure of the train. Looking at the clock reminded him of his lost watch, and he had remembered how Andy Cross had said that Jim Huskin had left Chicago for Muskegon.
"I would just like to land on that fellow," he said to himself. "He deserves to be in prison quite as much as Cross does."
Walking around to the depot, Robert purchased a ticket for Timberville, made sure that he was right about the train, and had his valise checked straight through.
Although he was not aware of it, his movements were shadowed by Hammerditch and Le Fevre.
"He has checked the bag," said the Englishman. "I wonder if we can get at it through the baggage master?"
"It ees not likely," said the French Canadian."Za are verra particular here about baggage. If ve can get ze check ve be all right."
"Let us follow him and see if anything turns up in our favor."
So the two rascals followed Robert in his walk about the town.
All unconscious of the nearness of his enemies, our hero sauntered from street to street.
His eyes were wide open for some glimpse of Jim Huskin, and it must be confessed that he never gave a thought to being attacked from behind.
Having traveled the main thoroughfares of Muskegon, the youth commenced a tour of the streets of lesser importance.
One street, near the docks, was lined with saloons, and here the worst element of the town appeared to be congregated.
"Set 'em up, lad," cried one 'longshoreman, as he bumped up against Robert.
"Thanks, I don't drink," answered Robert, coolly.
"Don't drink?" cried the man. "Wot yer doin' down here, then?"
"That is my business."
"Don't yer git uppish about it."
"Make him treat, Mike," put in another man,whose nose showed that strong drink and he were no strangers.
"Come on an' have jess one glass," went on the man who had first addressed Robert.
As he spoke he caught Robert by the shoulder.
Our hero shook him off.
"Don't you dare to touch me," he said sharply. "If you do you will be laying up a good bit of trouble for yourself."
"In fightin' trim, hey?"
"I can defend myself, and more, if I am called upon to do it."
The 'longshoreman leered at Robert for a moment.
"Yer too soft," he sneered, and aimed a blow for Robert's head.
As quick as a flash our hero ducked, and hit out in return. The blow caught the tippler on the chin, and made him stagger up against the saloon window.
"Now I guess you'll leave me alone," remarked the boy. And then he walked on, but kept glancing behind him, to be prepared for another attack.
"Phew, he's a fighter, Mike," said the second man.
"Dat's wot he is," grumbled Mike, rubbinghis chin, where the blow had landed. "He must be wot da call a scientific boxer, hey?"
"Are yer goin' ter drop him?"
"Wot shall I do?"
"Make him treat or lick him."
"Maybe you want ter lick him," suggested Mike.
"I kin if I set out fer ter do it."
"Then pitch in, Pat."
But Pat hesitated about going ahead. Robert looked strong, and he felt that the youth could not be easily intimidated.
"We kin do it tergether," he ventured.
While the two roughs were conversing Hammerditch and Le Fevre drew near.
They had seen the short encounter and saw how angry were the men who wanted to be treated.
"Got the best of you, did he?" said Hammerditch.
"You mind your own business," growled Mike, crossly.
"Why didn't you pitch into him?" went on the Englishman. "I would have done so."
"Dat's wot I'm a-tellin' him," put in Pat.
"He's a boy zat wants taking down," said Le Fevre.
The two roughs looked at the newcomers curiously.
"Do yer know de boy?" demanded Mike.
"Yes, I know him, and I would like to see him get a sound thrashing," answered Hammerditch.
"Gif him what he deserves and ve vill pay you vell for eet," added the French Canadian.
"Wot yer down on him fer?" questioned Pat.
"He stole a baggage check from me," said Hammerditch, promptly. "Of course, he claims the check, but it is mine."
"I see. Do yer want ter git the check away from him?"
"I do."
"Where is it?"
"In his trousers' pocket."
"An' if we git it fer yer, wot will yer give us?" asked Pat.
"Five dollars," quickly answered Hammerditch.
To these roughs, who had not done a full day's work for a long time, five dollars appeared quite a sum of money.
"We'll go yer," said Pat promptly. "Aint dat right, Mike?"
"If you'll work wid me," answered Mike.
"All right; I'll follow you up for the check,"said Hammerditch. "And here is the five dollars." And he showed the bill, so that they might know that he meant what he said.
In a few minutes more the two roughs had laid their plans and were stealing after Robert.
"We can git dat check an' his money too," said Mike, and Pat agreed with him.
CHAPTER XXXI.
THE MISSING BAGGAGE CHECK.
All unconscious of the plot being hatched out against him, Robert walked on along the docks.
At one point he saw a large lake steamer at anchor, and thought to walk out to the craft to inspect her.
The way took him past a large quantity of merchandise piled high on the rear end of the dock.
He was just passing around the merchandise when he found himself suddenly seized from behind.
He tried to cry out, but before he could do so a dirty hand was clapped over his mouth.
He struggled to free himself, but soon found that two men were holding him. At last he managed to turn partly around and saw that the men were the two roughs who had wanted him to treat.
"Let me go!" he managed to say at last.
"Hold him, Mike," cried Pat, and slipped his hand into Robert's trousers' pocket.
Robert struggled, but before he could break away Pat had secured not only the baggage check, but also some loose change amounting to about a dollar.
"Now his udder pockets, Pat," panted Mike heavily. "Hurry up, I can't hold him much longer."
"You scoundrels!" exclaimed our hero, and breaking away at last, he dealt Mike a staggering blow in the chest.
But as the rough tumbled he caught the boy by the arm, and both fell, Robert on top.
"Help me, Pat!" roared Mike, seeing he was getting the worst of the encounter.
Pat started to jump in, but then thought better of it. As Robert leaped up with fire in his clear eyes, the man began to run.
"Stop, you thief!" yelled the boy, and made after him. Left to himself, Mike also got up and limped away, his nose bleeding, and suffering from a bruised rib, where Robert had stepped upon him.
"Dat boy is a reg'lar lion," he murmured. "We was fools ter tackle him."
Pat ran as he had never ran before, and comingto an alleyway, darted to the lower end and hid behind some empty barrels.
Robert ran past and then Pat came out again.
"Only a dollar," he said to himself, as he sized up his dishonest haul. "Well, wid that five I'm ter git fer de check it will be six. Dat aint bad."
Pat was no particular friend to Mike, and speedily resolved to keep the haul for himself.
"I'll tell Mike I didn't git no check and dat dere was only twenty cents in de pocket," he reasoned. He was willing to allow Mike ten cents for his share in the work, and no more.
The roughs had agreed to meet Hammerditch on a certain corner, and to this spot Pat made his way with all possible speed.
"Come in out of sight!" said the rough, and motioned the way to a nearby saloon. He was afraid Mike would come up before the transfer of the check could be made.
They went inside and ordered some drinks, and then Pat turned the baggage check over to the Englishman, and received the five dollars reward.
"I'll bet yer goin' ter make a fortune out of dat check," observed Pat.
"Not at all," answered Hammerditch. "Thecheck is of little value really. But I was bound to have it."
Afraid that Robert would hurry to the railroad station as soon as the loss of the check was discovered, the Englishman did not remain in the drinking place long. At a hotel several squares away he met Le Fevre.
"You haf eem?" queried the French Canadian anxiously.
"I have, Jean. Come."
"Ve vill haf von drink first," was the reply, and they went to the barroom. Here they met several lumbermen they knew, and in consequence it was some time before they could get away from the hotel.
One of the lumbermen knew about the Amberton land claim, and thought that it would be a hard matter to dispossess the present incumbent.
"Ve vill do eet," grinned Le Fevre. "Ve hold ze vinning cards—not so, Hammerditch?"
"That is so," answered Hammerditch.
The lumbermen wanted to know the particulars, but the others were not willing to disclose all of their secrets.
In the meantime Robert was hunting around for the rough called Pat.
Mike he did not care so much about, since it had been Pat who had made off with his belongings.
"He didn't get much money," he mused. "But he got that baggage check, and I don't want to lose that."
At first he thought to inform the police of what had occurred.
He was making for a policeman when he saw Pat coming out of the saloon. The rough had had half a dozen glasses of liquor, and he was in consequence quite hazy in his mind.
"You rascal!" cried our hero, catching him by the shoulder. "Give me back what you stole from me."
"That's all right, boss—didn't steal nothin'," mumbled Pat.
"I say you did—a baggage check and about a dollar in change. Give them up or I'll have you arrested."
"Aint got no check," hiccoughed Pat. "An' the money is spent."
"Then you come with me."
At this the tough grew alarmed, and at last he broke down and confessed that he had got the check for another party who had given him five dollars for it. He had part of the five dollars left,and out of this he gave Robert a sum equal to that which had been stolen.