CHAPTER XXIII
THE PAPERS IN THE SAFE
At Riverport the next day Mr. Bartlett called upon a lawyer with whom he was well acquainted and told to the legal gentleman all that he had learned and proposed to do.
"I wish your assistance, Mr. Soper," he said.
"You shall have it," was the lawyer's prompt answer.
"Can you get an order from the court to open that safe?"
"I believe I can. Come, we will go and see the judge at once."
Fortunately for Mr. Bartlett the judge was easily found, and when the matter was explained he issued the necessary papers and placed them in the hands of one of the constables.
"But how are you going to open the safe if it is locked?" asked the judge. "Constable Carley is not equal to it."
"I have engaged a professional safe opener," answered Mr. Bartlett. "He can do the trick for the constable."
"Very well."
Mr. Bartlett, the lawyer, and the constable waited until the stage came in. The safe opener was one of the passengers and at once joined the crowd and was introduced.
In the meantime Jasper Tuller had also arrived in Riverport. In the morning he lost no time in calling at the iron works.
"I want to see Mr. Bangs," he said, to the clerk who came to wait on him.
"Sorry, sir, but Mr. Bangs went out of town late last night."
"When will he be back?"
"Not until some time this afternoon—possibly not until evening."
"Where did he go? I must communicate with him at once."
"He went to Rochester, but I can't give you the exact address," answered the clerk.
Jasper Tuller groaned in spirit. Could he have telegraphed to Amos Bangs he would have done so, but the telegram would have remained at the office awaiting a call.
"I must make a move on my own account, if I can," he muttered.
He called a carriage and was driven to the Bangs mansion. A servant answered his rather impatient ring at the front door.
"Is anybody at home?" he asked, abruptly.
"Mr. Bangs has gone away, sir."
"I know that," he snapped. "Is Mrs. Bangs at home?"
Now it happened Mrs. Bangs had come home the night before, intending to go away again two days later. But she had given orders that she wished to see no one.
"I—I don't know," said the servant girl. "I can see. What is the name?"
"Jasper Tuller. It is highly important that I see somebody of the family at once," went on the visitor.
Mrs. Bangs was in an upper hallway and overheard the talk. She knew her husband had had some trouble with a book agent over the payment of a bill and took Tuller to be that person.
"A gentleman to see you, Mrs. Bangs," said the maid. "He is very anxious about it."
"I cannot see anybody," returned the fashionable woman, coldly. "Tell him I am not at home."
The girl went down into the hallway, where she had left Jasper Tuller standing.
"Mrs. Bangs is not at home, sir. You will have to call some other time."
"Is Mr. Bangs's son at home?"
"No, sir; he is away for the summer."
"When will Mrs. Bangs be back?"
"I can't say, sir."
"It is too bad. The matter is very important. I came all the way from Springfield to see Mr. Bangs. They told me at the works he had gone to Rochester. I wanted to see him or his wife on business. Have you any idea where I can find Mrs. Bangs?"
The girl hesitated.
"N—no, sir," she faltered.
Mrs. Bangs was listening as before and now realized that something unusual was in the air. She slipped down a back stairs and out of a rear door. Then she came around to the front piazza just as the door opened to let Tuller out.
"Mamie, who is this?" she asked, looking at the servant girl meaningly.
"Are you Mrs. Bangs?" asked Jasper Tuller, quickly, and, as she nodded, he continued: "I am glad you have come. I am Jasper Tuller, one of the stockholders in the iron works. Perhaps you have heard your husband mention my name."
"I have, Mr. Tuller. What can I do for you?"
"I would like to see you in private"—this with a side glance at the servant girl.
"Very well, step into the library, Mr. Tuller," and the fashionable woman led the way to that apartment. Then the door was carefully closed.
"Something is wrong," said the servant girl to herself. "I wonder what it can be?"
She was of a decidedly inquisitive nature and not above playing the eavesdropper. She tiptoed her way to the library door and listened intently, while at the same time applying her eye to the keyhole.
"Now, what is it, Mr. Tuller?" asked Mrs. Bangs, after the door to the library was shut.
"Briefly, it is this," said the visitor. "Your husband has certain papers in his safe—papers which belong to another man,—Philip Bartlett."
"Proceed."
"I warned him to destroy the papers but he has not done so. Now Mr. Bartlett is going to come here, force open your safe, and take the papers away."
"Come here—force our safe!" gasped the fashionable woman. "He dare not do it."
"He is going to do it legally, I presume."
"You mean he will bring an officer of the law here?"
"Yes. If those papers are found it will look black for your husband, for he has no right to have them in his possession."
"Oh, Mr. Tuller, what shall I do?"
"It is easy enough. Open the safe, take out the papers, and put them where they cannot be found."
"Yes, but I do not know how to open the safe!"
"Don't you know the combination? Your husband said something about that, but I felt there must be some mistake."
"I did know the combination once, but I believe I have forgotten it," went on the fashionable woman. She knitted her brows. "Let me see. It was three 9's, I remember—9, 18, and 27."
"Yes! yes! And what else. See if you cannot think. It is so very important—not alone for your husband, but also for myself and others."
"I am trying to think. Let me see—yes, there was a 2 and a 3 and then another 2,—I mean so many times around."
"I believe I understand, Mrs. Bangs. You mean twice around to 9, three times around to 18, twice to 27, and then off at 0."
"Yes, yes, that is it!" burst out the lady of the mansion. "How clever some men are!" and she beamed on her visitor, who chanced to be well dressed and not bad-looking.
"If that is correct, I'll soon have the safe open," said Jasper Tuller, and walked over to where the strong box stood, in a corner of the apartment.
The lady of the mansion hovered near while Jasper Tuller got down on his knees and began to try the combination. He had to work the knob all of a dozen times before the door of the safe came open.
"At last!" he murmured, as the contents of the safe stood revealed.
"Do you see the papers, or rather, do you know them?" asked Mrs. Bangs.
"I will know them—if I can lay eyes on them," was the reply, as Tuller began to rummage around in the safe.
The papers were sorted out in different piles and he went through each pile as rapidly as possible. Presently he found what he wanted.
"Here they are!" he cried in triumph, as he held them up.
CHAPTER XXIV
ANOTHER HIDING PLACE
Mrs. Bangs breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the papers.
"You are certain you are right, Mr. Tuller?" she asked, anxiously.
"Yes."
"Where did those papers come from?"
"Mr. Bartlett's desk at the iron works."
"As they were in my husband's safe I think you ought to give them to me."
"I will do so, Mrs. Bangs. But you must put them where they cannot be found."
"Trust me for that."
"The officers of the law may search the whole house."
"Dare they do such a thing?"
"Yes, but if everything is found square your husband can sue Bartlett for damages," and Jasper Tuller chuckled loudly. "It will be a good joke on him."
"There are no more of the papers?"
"I will take another look and make sure."
This was done, but no more papers belonging to Philip Bartlett could be found. Then the safe was locked once more.
"I will put these papers away at once," said Mrs. Bangs and left the library with the documents in her hand. She was gone all of five minutes and came back smiling quietly to herself.
"Now they are safe," she said. "Nobody can possibly find them."
"I am glad to hear it," answered Tuller. "Now I had better be going—before Bartlett appears. Don't say anything about my having been here."
"I will not."
"And another thing, Mrs. Bangs. Pretend not to know how to open the safe. That will compel them to break it open, and your husband's case against Bartlett will be so much stronger."
"I shall follow your advice, Mr. Tuller. But look, somebody is coming already!" went on the fashionable woman, as a carriage turned in from the road and came toward the horse block.
"I must get out of this! Can I go by a back door?"
"To be sure," said Mrs. Bangs, and showed the way. As Tuller slipped out and passed toward the back road where Randy had had an encounter with Bob Bangs, there came a ring at the front door.
"Good-morning, Mrs. Bangs," said Mr. Bartlett. "Is your husband at home?"
"He is not," answered the fashionable woman, coldly.
"I've got a search warrant for this place," said the constable, pushing his way in, and he proceeded to read the document aloud.
"This is an outrage!" cried Mrs. Bangs, with assumed dignity. "An outrage, and you shall pay dearly for it, Mr. Bartlett. My husband is no thief, to steal your papers."
"Perhaps not," answered Philip Bartlett. "Nevertheless, I am going to have his safe searched and also this house."
"Well, since you have the law on your side, go ahead. But you shall answer to my husband for this indignity."
The constable began his work, and the safe opener approached the strong box and inspected it.
"Can you open it?" asked Mr. Bartlett, anxiously.
"With ease," was the answer. "This is one of the old-style safes."
"How much will it cost?"
"Ten dollars."
"Then go ahead."
The safe opener was soon at work. He turned the knob around slowly, listening intently in the meanwhile. He worked thus for perhaps ten minutes, when the door to the safe came open without an effort.
Mrs. Bangs was disappointed. She had expected that the safe would have to be blown open in the most approved burglar fashion, and was wondering what bill for damages she could render.
"You must have known the combination," she said, tartly, to the safe opener.
"This is my business," was the quiet answer.
The constable, with Mr. Bartlett's aid, went through all the papers in the safe. Of course the all-important documents were not found.
"Well?" asked the lawyer, after a long wait.
"They are not here," replied Mr. Bartlett. He felt sick at heart over his failure to bring the papers to light.
"Not here!"
"No, they must have been removed."
The library was searched, and then a look was taken through the whole house. Mrs. Bangs followed the men everywhere.
"You shall suffer for this outrage," she said to Mr. Bartlett several times.
"I presume I shall have to stand for what I have done," he answered, meekly. "Of one thing I am certain, Mrs. Bangs. Your husband has those papers, or else he has destroyed them."
"You can say what you please, Mr. Bangs is an honest man and a gentleman," retorted the fashionable woman.
At last there was nothing left to do but to leave the mansion, which Mr. Bartlett did with reluctance.
"I am afraid I have made a mess of it," he said to his lawyer. "I was certain we would find those papers."
"I am afraid you have hurt your case, Mr. Bartlett," answered the legal light, bluntly. "Bangs will now be on his guard and will take good care to keep those papers away from you."
"Perhaps he has destroyed them."
"That is not unlikely, since it would do him small good to keep them."
"What do you advise me to do next?"
"You had better wait and see what develops," said the lawyer.
The safe opener and the constable were paid off and Philip Bartlett returned to Albany in anything but a happy frame of mind. A day or two later he called upon Randy, when the steamboat tied up at the dock for the night.
"My fat is in the fire," he said to our hero, and told of his failure to locate the missing documents.
"Mr. Bartlett, I am sure Mr. Bangs said the papers were in his safe!" cried Randy. "He must have taken them out when he returned home."
"You can be a witness if the matter is brought into court?"
"Of course. I remember very well all I heard."
"Well, that is something," answered Philip Bartlett, hopefully.
He went home and the next day received a strong letter from Amos Bangs denouncing him for the action he had taken. Part of the letter ran as follows:
"I should sue you for damages, only I do not wish to drag you into court on account of your wife and family. In the future you need expect no favors from me. I am done with you. If you want to sell your stock in the iron company I will give you the market price, not a cent more. Remember, I shall be on my guard against you in the future, and if you dare to molest me again you shall take the consequences."
"I should sue you for damages, only I do not wish to drag you into court on account of your wife and family. In the future you need expect no favors from me. I am done with you. If you want to sell your stock in the iron company I will give you the market price, not a cent more. Remember, I shall be on my guard against you in the future, and if you dare to molest me again you shall take the consequences."
"He will do what he can to ruin us," said Mrs. Bartlett when her husband read the letter to her.
"I suppose so."
"What is the market price of the stock?"
"It has no regular market value now. Bangs will buy it for about ten cents on the dollar."
"Oh, Philip, that is so little!"
"I'll not sell the stock," said Mr. Bartlett. "I'd rather lose every cent than play into Amos Bangs's hands!"
CHAPTER XXV
A VICTORY FOR RANDY
One day Randy was out in Albany buying a new pair of shoes when he met Rose Clare, who was also doing some shopping for her mother.
"Oh, Randy, how do you do!" cried the girl, running up and shaking hands.
"Very well, Rose," he answered. "You look well."
"Oh, I am feeling splendid."
"It did you good to get out of New York."
"Indeed it did, and mamma is ever so much better too."
"I am glad to hear that. Do you like it at Captain Hadley's home?"
"Yes, mamma and Mrs. Hadley have become great friends."
"Do you go to school?"
"Yes. And, oh, I 'most forgot to tell you. I got a letter from New York to-day. It was from another girl, one who lived in the house with us. She says Bill Hosker has come back to that neighborhood."
"To stay?"
"She says he is around every night."
"Then I am going to hunt him up."
"Oh, Randy, please don't get into any more trouble," pleaded Rose.
"He has got to give back my money, or take the consequences."
"You know what a ruffian he is!"
"I will be on my guard this time, Rose, and maybe I'll take a friend along," added our hero.
When he returned to the steamboat he told Jones about what he had heard. Jones was now feeling very well once again, and he readily volunteered to go with Randy and hunt up Hosker as soon as the boat got to the metropolis. Then Pat Malloy got wind of what was up and said he would go too.
"It's no use of going to the police wid such a mather," said the head deckhand. "We'll bring the rascal to terms ourselves."
It was a clear, cool night when the landing was made at New York. The deckhands hurried through their labors and then made off for the neighborhood where Randy had been attacked.
"Here is the spot where I was first robbed," said our hero, and pointed it out.
They walked around the neighborhood for nearly an hour, and were growing somewhat disheartened when Randy gave a cry:
"There he is!"
"You are sure?" asked Jones.
"Yes."
"Let me speak to him first. Then we'll know there ain't no mistake," went on Jones.
Randy was willing and he and Malloy dropped behind.
Bill Hosker had just come out of a saloon and was wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand. He turned down a side street.
"Hullo there, Bill Hosker!" cried Jones, pleasantly.
The bully and thief swung around on his heel and looked at the deckhand in perplexity.
"Who are you?" he asked, roughly.
"Am I right? Is this Bill Hosker?"
"Dat's my handle."
"Then you are the man I want to see," said Jones and beckoned for the others to come up.
When the street ruffian saw Randy his face changed color and he wanted to run away, but Jones grabbed him and so did Malloy. As both were powerful men, Hosker was as a kitten in their grasp.
"Youse fellers let me go!"
"I want you to give up the money you took from me," said Randy.
"I don't know you, young feller!"
"Yes, you do. Will you give up the money or not?"
"I ain't got no cash."
"Then you'll come to the station house with me."
"I bet yer I won't!" cried Bill Hosker.
He started to struggle when Jones hauled off and slapped him hard on the right ear.
"Now be good, or I'll shove a few of your teeth down your throat," said the deckhand. "This ain't no foolin' affair. Give up the boy's money and be quick about it. If you don't give up I'll maul you so your own mother won't know you!"
Bill Hosker was thoroughly alarmed. He did not mind going to the station house but he did mind a good drubbing, and he saw that those who held him were in no mood to be trifled with.
"Say, let us straighten dis t'ing out," said he at length.
"I want my money," answered Randy.
"Will yer drop de matter if I cough up de cash?"
"Yes."
"All right den. How much was it?"
"Four dollars and eighty cents."
The street ruffian pulled a small roll of bills from his pocket.
"Dare you are," he said, as he passed over five dollars. "Youse kin keep de change."
Randy took the bills and stowed them away in his pocket.
"I'll give the change to some poor person," he said. "I want only what is coming to me."
"Are ye done wid de rascal?" asked Malloy.
"Yes."
"Well, I'm not," answered the head deckhand.
"And neither am I," added Jones.
And then both hauled off and let Bill Hosker have it, right and left. The street ruffian had one eye blackened and a tooth knocked out, and went down in a heap more than dazed.
"Let that teach you a lesson," said Jones.
"It's better nor a month in jug," was Pat Malloy's comment. "The state won't have to feed the blackguard."
Randy had already walked on and his friends joined him, and all hurried back to the steamboat.
It was several minutes before Bill Hosker got up. "I'd like ter kill dem fellers!" he muttered.
He hurried for the nearest saloon, where he tried to drown his troubles in drink. In the saloon were several who knew him, and one man jeered him because of the black eye. This brought on another quarrel, and as a consequence both men were pushed out of the drinking resort. They continued to fight on the sidewalk, until a policeman came along and tried to stop them. Then Hosker attacked the officer, and as a consequence was placed under arrest. The next day he was brought up in court and sentenced to a year in prison for his misdeeds.
"I don't think he'll forget us," said Jones, as the steamboat was reached.
"Maybe he will lay for us," said Randy.
"Well, we can kape our eyes open," put in Pat Malloy.
"I shall not visit that neighborhood again," said our hero. "Now I have my money back I am satisfied."
"New York has altogether too many such toughs," put in Jones. "The police ought to clean them all out. When I first came here I was attacked in my boarding place on the Bowery."
"Were you robbed?"
"The fellow tried to rob me, but he didn't succeed. I played a neat trick on him."
"What did you do?"
"I had a roll of bills and these I placed in an inside pocket. I also had an imitation bank-bill—one of these advertisements you often see. Well, I took a small roll of paper and put the imitation bill around it, and put the roll in my vest pocket. The would-be thief got the roll and ran off with it."
"He must have been angry when he saw how he had been duped," laughed Randy.
"I didn't see that fellow again for nearly six months. Then I met him on the steamboat where I was working. When he saw me he sneaked out of sight in a hurry, I can tell you."
"Did you follow him up?"
"I tried to, but I didn't see him again until we were making a landing. Then I tried to grab him, but he slipped me in a crowd and went ashore as fast as his legs could carry him," concluded the deckhand.
CHAPTER XXVI
NEW TROUBLES
On the following day Randy noticed that Peter Polk seemed unusually sour and thoughtful.
"Something has gone wrong with him, that is certain," thought our hero. "I wonder what it can be?"
He did his best to keep out of the way of the purser and succeeded until nightfall. But then, when he was carrying an extra heavy trunk, Peter Polk got in his way and made him stumble and drop the piece of baggage. The trunk was split open at one end and some of the contents fell on the deck. It was a lady's trunk, filled with feminine wearing apparel, and a good many passengers laughed.
"What do you mean by running into me, you blockhead!" cried the purser, in a loud voice. "Why don't you look where you are going!"
"It was not my fault," answered Randy, warmly, not liking the man's manner of address. "You made me drop that trunk."
"I did not. It was your own clumsiness."
"No, sir," said our hero, firmly; and a crowd began to collect.
"Don't dare to contradict me!" fumed the purser. "It was your fault, and the damage shall come out of your wages."
"Mr. Polk, it was not my fault and I shall not stand for the damage done."
"Ha! you defy me, eh, you cub! Go on about your work and I'll settle with you later."
"What is the trouble here?" asked Captain Hadley, coming up through the crowd.
"The blockhead of a boy dropped that trunk and broke it open."
"He ran into me and made me drop it," retorted our hero. He felt just reckless enough to stand up for his rights, be the consequences what they might.
"Put the trunk to one side, along with the other baggage," said the captain. "We have no time to waste on this just now. Get that other baggage ashore."
"My trunk!" shrieked the maiden lady, rushing forward. "Oh, who broke my trunk?"
"It was an accident, madam."
"And all my dresses spilt out, too! I shall sue the steamboat company for damages."
"We will settle with you, madam. I am sorry it happened," went on the captain, soothingly.
"It was a mean thing to do," said the maiden lady and began to weep. "Two of those dresses are brand-new."
"I guess they are not injured much."
Randy and the others had gone to work again. Our hero's thoughts were busy.
"I believe Polk ran into me on purpose," he whispered to Jones.
"Maybe he wants to get you discharged," answered the other deckhand.
"I don't see why."
"He's down on you because of that Clare affair."
"Do you think so?"
"Sure. He hated it worse than poison, for the captain now knows just how meanly he acted towards the widow."
The damaged trunk was passed over to a man on the dock and after some excited talk the maiden lady accepted ten dollars, with which to have the box repaired and her things put in proper order. It was more than was actually coming to her and she went off secretly pleased.
In the meantime one of the passengers, an elderly man who traveled on the line a great deal, went to Captain Hadley.
"What is it, Mr. DeLong?" asked the master of the vessel, kindly.
"I wish to speak to you about that trunk that was broken open."
"What of it?"
"I saw the accident. I was standing quite near at the time."
"Well?"
"I take an interest in that young deckhand of yours—he has done me several small favors from time to time. It was not his fault that the trunk was smashed, and I wanted you to know it."
"How did it happen?"
"Your purser got in the way and made the boy stumble. To me it looked as if the purser did it on purpose."
"This is interesting, Mr. DeLong. But I don't see why the purser should do such a thing."
"Neither do I, excepting he may have a grudge against the boy."
"Humph!" The captain grew thoughtful. "I will investigate this."
"Do so, and believe me, the boy is not to blame," said the elderly passenger, and withdrew.
As soon as the end of the trip came, and the work on deck was finished, Randy was called to the captain's office.
"Now what have you to say about that smashed trunk, Thompson?"
"I am not to blame, Captain Hadley," answered our hero, and told exactly how the incident had occurred.
"Do you mean to say Mr. Polk tripped you up?"
"He ran into me and made me drop the trunk. If I hadn't dropped the trunk I would have fallen down with the box on the top of me, and gotten hurt."
"This is a strange statement, Thompson. Why should Mr. Polk run into you?"
"He hates me, because through me your family learned how he had treated Mrs. Clare when he helped to settle her husband's affairs."
This threw a new light on the matter and the captain nodded slowly and thoughtfully.
"I did not think this of Mr. Polk."
"I think he hopes I'll lose my job," went on our hero. "He continually calls me a blockhead, just to get me mad. I think he'd like to see me lose my temper and pitch into him, and then he could get me my walking papers."
"I think I will have to put the damage to the trunk down to the regular expense account," said the captain at last. "In the future be more careful, and keep out of Mr. Polk's way."
"I will certainly be careful, and I'll watch him, too," answered Randy.
Evidently Peter Polk was surprised to see our hero go to his work whistling after his interview with the captain. He went to the master of the vessel himself a little later.
"Is that boy going to pay for the trunk?" he asked, sourly.
"No, you can put it down to the regular expense account," answered Captain Hadley.
"Humph! It was his fault."
"He says not."
"Did he blame it on me?"
"He did."
"It was his own fault."
"We won't argue the matter, Mr. Polk. Put it down to the regular expenses and let it go at that," and Captain Hadley turned again to the magazine he had been reading.
"Sticking up for the boy," muttered the purser, as he walked away. "Well, I'll get that cub yet, see if I don't!"
A day passed and Randy stuck closely to his duties. He saw but little of Peter Polk and gave the purser a wide berth. The purser watched the youth narrowly, but said nothing.
"He has got it in for you," said Jones to Randy. "Take my advice and keep your eyes open."
"I am watching him."
"He is a man I shouldn't trust nohow. He has got a bad pair of eyes. I don't see how Mr. Shalley trusts him with all the boat's money matters."
"Neither do I," answered our hero.
"He could walk off with thousands of dollars if he wanted to," said Jones, and there the talk was dropped.
CHAPTER XXVII
RANDY MAKES A DISCOVERY
The next day Randy wanted to change some of his underwear and went into his locker for his things. To his surprise he found in the locker a lot of wearing apparel that did not belong to him.
"Hullo, what does this mean?" he asked himself but could not answer the question.
He looked the articles over and made sure they did not belong to any of the other deckhands. Then as he was folding up an extra-fine outing shirt, he saw a letter drop to the floor. He picked it up and saw that it was addressed to Peter Polk.
"Can these things belong to Polk?" he asked himself. "If so, how did they get here?"
Curiosity prompted him to look into the envelope in his hand. Inside was a single sheet of paper on which was scrawled in a bold, heavy hand this brief communication:
"Peter Polk: If you don't pay me that commission of twenty dollars at once, I will go to old man Shalley and let him know how you are boosting up the expense account.G. A. G."
"Peter Polk: If you don't pay me that commission of twenty dollars at once, I will go to old man Shalley and let him know how you are boosting up the expense account.
G. A. G."
Randy read the letter with great interest. It was postmarked New York and the date was four days back.
"There is some mystery here," he reasoned. "What can it mean? Can Mr. Polk be cheating Mr. Shalley in some way?"
Then he remembered how the purser purchased all the supplies for the steamboat and paid the bills, and gave a low whistle.
"I must see Captain Hadley about this, and at once," he thought. "But no, maybe it would be better to go and see Mr. Shalley direct."
He placed the letter in a safe place and then went out on deck. He had just started to look for Captain Hadley,—to tell him about the strange wearing apparel—when Peter Polk rushed up to him.
"Look here, Thompson, I want you!" shouted the purser, wrathfully.
"What is it, Mr. Polk?"
"I've got you, you young thief!"
"I am no thief," answered our hero, warmly.
"You are!"
"Who says Randy is a thafe?" demanded Pat Malloy.
"I do."
"And I say it is false."
"He has stolen some of my underwear," went on the purser. "Tell me what you have done with the stuff at once!"
"Your stuff is in my locker, Mr. Polk, but I did not take it."
"Ha! what a yarn to tell. Hand the stuff over at once!"
"You can get it if you wish," answered Randy, with a shrug of his shoulders.
"I will. Malloy, come along as a witness," answered the purser.
He walked to the compartment where the deckhands slept and from our hero's locker hauled the articles that belonged to him.
"What do you say to that?" he cried, turning to our hero.
"I did not put the things there, Mr. Polk."
"If you didn't, who did?" sneered the purser.
"Perhaps you did yourself."
"Me!"
"Yes."
"You are crazy, boy! Why should I do such a thing?"
"To get me into trouble. You hate me and want to injure me, that's why."
"Nonsense. You stole these things, it is useless for you to deny it."
"But I do deny it. I am no more a thief than you are—maybe not as much of a one," added Randy, significantly.
At these words the purser turned pale for a moment. But he quickly recovered.
"I shall report this to the captain."
"I'll report too."
"I'll have you discharged."
"We'll see about that."
Taking his things, Peter Polk went to the captain's office and told his story. Captain Hadley at once sent for Randy.
"This is a queer happening, Thompson," he said.
"Captain Hadley, I am not guilty," answered Randy. "It is only another plot of Mr. Polk to get me into trouble."
"And you think he put the things there himself?"
"I certainly do. I wish you would give me a day off," went on our hero, after an awkward pause.
"What for?"
"I wish to see Mr. Shalley."
"He is in New York, on business."
"So much the better. I can call on him there, after we tie up."
"Do you want to take this matter to him?"
"Not this alone. I have something else of importance. I know he will want to see me."
"Well, you can go. I hope you are not going to run away," and the captain smiled faintly.
"I have nothing to run away for, sir. Mr. Polk is down on me and I am going to do what I can to show him up, that is all. But please don't let him know that I am going to see Mr. Shalley."
"You have learned something important?"
"Yes, sir."
"About the purser?"
"Yes, sir. But I can't speak of it just yet to you."
"Well, what about this clothing affair?"
"Won't you let it rest for a few days?"
"If you wish," answered Captain Hadley, and then he was called away to attend to some important duties.
Although Randy did not know it, Peter Polk was nearby and caught a good bit of the talk between our hero and the captain. His face grew deathly pale when he learned that Randy was going to see Mr. Shalley and about his own personal doings.
"What has that cub discovered now?" he asked himself. "What can he tell about my doings?"
He was so worried he could not attend to his work. He turned the matter over in his mind and suddenly remembered the threatening letter he had received. He had paid the claim, but what had he done with the communication? He searched everywhere for it, but without avail.
"Fool that I was, that I did not tear it up and throw it overboard," he muttered to himself. "If that boy has the letter it may lead to an investigation, and then——" He did not finish but clenched his hands in rage and fear.
He watched Randy narrowly, and after New York was reached saw our hero make preparations to go ashore. He did not know that Mr. Shalley was in the metropolis and could not comprehend Randy's move.
"Are you going ashore?" he asked of our hero, when he got the chance.
"I am."
"Where are you going?"
"Excuse me, Mr. Polk, but that is my private business."
"Did Captain Hadley say you could go?"
"He did."
"Well, come to my office a minute, I want to talk to you," went on the purser, in a lower tone.
"Very well," answered Randy, and followed the man to the office, which at this time was deserted.
"Thompson, I want to know what you found in your locker besides my clothing," said the purser, after he had made certain that no outsiders were around.
"I found a cigar holder and a match safe."
"And what else?"
"I must decline to answer that question."
At this blunt refusal the brow of the purser darkened.
"You won't tell me?"
"No."
"Did you find a—er—a letter?"
"Perhaps I did."
"I want you to give it up."
"I didn't say I found it."
"But you did find it. It is my property and you must give it to me."
To this Randy was silent.
"Do you hear me?"
"I am not deaf, Mr. Polk."
"I know what you want to do!" hissed the purser. "You want to get me into trouble. But I'll not let you do it."
"Maybe you'll get yourself into trouble."
"Bah! I am not afraid of a boy, but——" He paused and his manner changed. "See here, Thompson, you are a poor boy, aren't you?"
"I admit it."
"Well, some extra money will come in handy, won't it?"
"What do you mean, Mr. Polk?"
"I'll give you—er—five dollars for that letter."
"I haven't said that I had it yet."
"But I know you have it. Come, what do you say?"
"I say, I am going about my business," answered Randy, and started for the doorway.
"Not yet!" cried the purser, wrathfully, and flung him back into a corner. "You'll settle with me first, even if I have to call a police officer!"