CHAPTER III
For the moment after his step-father had announced that he had lost three hundred dollars Mark was so dumfounded that he could not speak.
"I—you—Did you lose three hundred dollars?" he gasped, at last.
"Yes, I did. And you've got the money," returned Jadell Powers.
"Mr. Powers, I haven't a cent of that money. In fact, I didn't know you had three hundred dollars in the safe."
"I know better. I put the money in there yesterday, and you were there when I did it."
"Perhaps I was there, but I didn't see you handle any money. Are you sure it was stolen?"
"Of course I am."
"Didn't you lock the safe door?"
"Yes, but the safe is old and anybody could get it open by trying. Come, Mark, confess and give back the money. If you don't, you know what I said."
The youth did not listen to the words. He was thinking of the stranger he had met on the stairs, when returning from the fire. Could that individual be the thief?
"Mark, do you hear me?" stormed Jadell Powers. "Tell me where that money is this instant!"
"I don't know where it is. But I think I know who took it."
"Was there anybody else in the office?"
"I think so, although I am not sure. Did you hear about the fire in Koster's bakery?"
"Yes."
"Well, when the fire broke out I ran downstairs to see what was the matter. I stayed down in the street a while. When I started to come back to the office I met a strange man coming down the stairs. I asked him if he wanted to see you. He said no, and said he had gotten into the wrong building. He got out into the street in a terrible hurry."
"Tut, tut, young man! Do you expect me to believe such a cock-and-bull story as that? Not I! Just you hand over that money, or I'll call a policeman without delay."
Mark gazed at his step-father in horror. Evidently the close-fisted lawyer meant just what he said, and the youth had a dim mental vision of being dragged to prison and of being convicted of an awful crime.
"I haven't got the money, and I don't intend to be locked up!" he burst out, and with a dexterous twist he freed himself from his step-father's grasp and bounded down the street.
"Stop! Stop!" yelled Jadell Powers. "Stop, I say! Somebody stop him! He's a thief!"
He ran after the boy, but Mark was a swift runner and soon put a goodly distance between himself and his pursuer. Fortunately, no other people were close at hand, and by the time some men and boys joined in the chase, Mark was three squares away and still running like a frightened deer.
"He shan't catch me!" he muttered to himself, as he kept up his running.
He was somewhat hampered by his valise, which was heavy, and on reaching a street where ran a line of stages, he jumped aboard a passing vehicle. As the driver was behind time, he whipped up his horses, and before long Mark was a good mile from home. Nobody seemed to be in pursuit and this caused him to breathe a sigh of relief.
Yet the youth felt strangely depressed. Contrary to his expectations, he was leaving home under a heavy cloud.
"Unless the real thief is caught, Mr. Powers will always think I took that money," he reasoned, dismally. "Perhaps I am to blame, too, for I left the office during business hours and forgot to lock the door."
At last Mark found himself in the shipping district of the city. It was growing dark, and the majority of the business people had taken themselves to their homes. As the stage came to a corner, he alighted and stared around him, not knowing where to go next.
"I guess I had better get out of town," he told himself. "Mr. Powers will be after me hot-footed to-night and in the morning. Three hundred dollars looks like a fortune to him. And it is a big sum of money. Wish I had it for my own! I'd start West right away, and ride all the way, too!"
An hour later found Mark on the way out of town. Strange as it may seem, he fell in with a man who was driving ten horses which had just come in on a boat. The man wanted to know the way to the village of Chesbrook.
"I know the way," said the boy, quickly. "Let me ride one of the horses and I'll show you."
"If you want to go to Chesbrook, hop up," answered the man, and in a moment Mark was in the saddle for the twenty-mile journey.
"I haven't got much money and I want to save all I can," explained Mark.
"Horseback traveling is good enough for me," answered the man. "I hate a stage coach, an' them railroad trains is too plaguety risky. I rode in one once an' I felt sure we was goin' to be killed ev'ry minit!"
"Then you don't belong in the East?"
"No, I belong out to Hankertown, in the western part o' the State."
"Are you going that far?"
"Yes, after a day's stop at Chesbrook."
"Going to take the horses along?"
"Four of 'em. The others are for a man at Chesbrook."
"Then maybe you won't mind if I ride to Hankertown with you," went on Mark, after pausing in thought.
"Oh, are you goin' West?"
"Yes—if I can get there."
"Say, you ain't goin' to try for Californy?" cried the man, with added interest.
"Perhaps—I haven't made up my mind exactly. Maybe I'll get tired of the trip after I've been on the road a while."
"I'd like to take the trip to Californy myself. But I don't know as I can git away. I've been away from hum a good spell already."
It was well on towards midnight when Chesbrook was reached. It was only a small village, with a small square building that went by the name of hotel. Here the man put up for the night, and Mark did the same, the boy paying "four shillings"—fifty cents—for his bed and breakfast in the morning.
By ten o'clock the man with the horses had transacted his business at the village and he and Mark began their journey further westward. It was a clear day and a night's rest had put the boy in fine condition physically, although he was still worried, fearing that his step-father might be on his track.
Towards the middle of the afternoon Mark and Jed Dickson—such was the man's name—came to a fork in the road.
"Which is the right road?" questioned the boy, as he drew rein.
"I allow as how the road to the right is right," answered Jed Dickson.
They turned in that direction, but scarcely had they covered half a mile when they saw that the road was very poor and that there had been no traveling upon it for several days.
"This looks like a side road to me," observed Mark.
"Reckon you're correct," answered the man. He scratched his head. "Ain't nothin' to do but to go back."
"Wait, I hear talking!" went on Mark. "Somebody must be coming. Perhaps we can find out which way to go."
They waited and heard two persons coming along, each on horseback. One was a burly fellow of fifty, with a heavy beard, and the other a youth of Mark's age, dressed in a sailor suit.
"Say, messmate, it looks to me like we were on the wrong tack," came from the sailor boy, as he drew rein just around a bend from where Mark and Jed Dickson were waiting.
"Oh, we're all right," came from the burly man. "By the way, how much money did you say you had with you?" he continued.
"One hundred and forty dollars—and I don't want to lose it, either."
"Let me carry it for you, lad."
"No, I'll carry it myself. And I reckon I'll go back," went on the sailor boy.
"You'll hand that money over to me," cried the burly man.
"What, would you rob me?" gasped the youth.
"I want that money, and I am bound to have it," came coolly from the burly individual. "We are alone out here, so it won't help you to make a fuss about it."
"You brought me here to rob me!" cried the sailor boy. "I thought something was wrong. Well, you ain't going to rob me just yet. Get up there!" The last words to his horse.
"Stop!" roared the burly man, and urging his own steed forward he caught the other horse. "That money, I say, or I'll——"
"Hi! leave him alone!" cried Mark, riding forward. "Leave him alone, you villain!"
"We don't allow no highway robbery in these parts," sang out Jed Dickson.
Both came up alongside of the burly fellow, who drew back in commingled alarm and disgust.
"Hullo—friends!" sang out the sailor boy, joyfully. "Here's luck for me sure!"
"And no luck for me!" growled the burly man, and urging his steed around, he disappeared back of some bushes and was gone.
"Do you know that man?" asked Mark.
"Never clapped eyes on him until this morning," answered the other boy. "He said he would show me the way to Hopeville, but I guess he wanted to get me in some lonely spot and then rob me. You two came up in the nick of time,—and I'm mighty glad of it!" He gave Mark and Jed Dickson a grateful look.
"Where did you come from?" asked Dickson.
"From Philadelphia. You see, I'm just ashore from a whaling voyage," was the answer. "I got tired of the sea and thought I'd try it on land for a spell. I've got an old aunt living at Hopeville and I allowed I'd pay her a visit. My name is Bob Billings. Who are you?"
"I am Mark Radley."
"And I am Jed Dickson. Don't you want to go after that rascal?"
"I don't reckon we can catch him, for he'll do his best to keep out of sight," answered Bob Billings. "I was a fool to let him know what money I was carrying with me. I got paid off four days ago, and I thought if my aunt needed anything I'd let her have some of the cash. She's the only relative I've got in the world."