Shortly after this incident, approaching the clerk at the hotel desk where he had engaged a room near Roy's, Mr. Wakely, seeming much concerned, said:
"My friend, Mr. Bradner, has been taken suddenly ill. I think I shall take him to my doctor's. Will you call me a cab?"
"Why don't you have the hotel doctor look at him?" suggested the clerk, who had taken a liking to the boy from the ranch. The clerk did not exactly like the ways of Mr. Wakely, who had only taken a room at the hotel a day or so before.
"Oh, I don't like to trust a strange doctor. I think my physician can fix him up. He is in need of rest, more than anything else. The strenuous life of the city, after his quiet days on the ranch has been too much for him."
"He looked strong and hearty," replied the clerk. "He told me he used to rope wild steers. I should think he could stand it here. He hasn't been going around much."
"Still I think I shall take him away," went on Mr. Wakely. "Please call me a cab. I believe I'll take his baggage with me. I'll settle for his bill."
"There's nothing to settle. Mr. Bradner paid me this morning for his board up to the end of the week."
Mr. Wakely looked relieved at this, but said nothing.
The clerk, not exactly liking what was going on, but being unable to interpose any objections, rung for a cab. Then, under orders from Mr. Wakely, Roy's baggage was brought down and put into the vehicle.
A little later Roy's new acquaintance came down in the elevator, supporting the lad with an arm around his shoulders. Roy could hardly walk, for his legs were trembling, and there was a curious white, dazed look on his face.
"What's the matter, old chap?" asked the hotel clerk, with ready sympathy. "Can I do anything for you?"
It seemed as if Roy tried to speak, but only a murmur came from his lips.
"He'll be all right in a little while," said Mr. Wakely quickly. "He's a little faint; that's all. I'll look after him."
Somehow the clerk thought Mr. Wakely acted as if he did not want any one to come too near Roy, or lend any aid. A little later, leading the boy, who seemed to become weaker, Mr. Wakely got into the cab with him, and drove on.
"Poor fellow," said the clerk sympathetically. "I hope he gets better. He certainly is a nice chap, and I wonder what could have made him ill so suddenly? I don't like that Wakely fellow."
That evening it occurred to Mortimer De Royster that he had not seen his friend Roy for some time. Not, in fact, since he had parted with him at the hotel.
"That's beastly impolite on my part, don't you know," said De Royster to himself. "I must run around and see him. I've been so busy straightening out my accounts since I came back from my western trip, that I have neglected all my friends. However, I'll make up for it. I'll take him to some theatre and give him a good time."
Thus musing, Mortimer De Royster adjusted his one eye glass, selected a delicately-colored necktie from his rather large stock, and attired himself to go out and call at Roy's hotel, which he soon reached.
"Good evening, Mortimer," greeted the clerk, who knew De Royster quite well. "How are you?"
"Feeling very fit, old chap, don't you know," replied De Royster. "How are you?"
"So-so."
"That's good. Charming evening, isn't it? Charming. I—er—I called to see my friend, Mr. Bradner. Going to take him out and show him a bit of New York after dark, don't you know. I have tickets to a very nice show, and I think he'll like it. I owe a good deal to him, old man. He's a clever chap. I want to repay him in some way. I'll go up to his room."
"It's no use."
"No use. Why, my dear fellow, what do you mean?"
"I mean he was taken away—ill—in a cab by a friend of his."
"Who was the friend?"
Mortimer De Royster lost his rather careless manner, and was all attention.
"A fellow named Wakely. He took rooms here a day or so ago. Made friends with Mr. Bradner—Roy, I call him, for I feel quite friendly toward him. Late this afternoon Wakely came to me and said Roy was sick, and he was going to take him to a doctor."
"And did he?"
"That's what he did. Took his baggage too," and the clerk related what had taken place.
"What sort of a fellow was this Wakely?" asked De Royster, with increasing interest.
The clerk described him. The dudish jewelry salesman shook his head.
"I don't recognize him," he said. "What do you think about it? You saw him."
"I'll tell you what I think," went on the clerk. "I think that fellow Wakely is up to some game, and I wish Roy had not made his acquaintance."
"That's just what I believe," exclaimed De Royster. "It seems a queer thing that Roy should be taken sick so suddenly. Why, he was as healthy as a young ox. I'll wager there's something wrong. He came here to New York to expose a man he thought was a swindler, and I believe the man has him in his power now. I must do something to aid him."
"What are you going to do?" asked the clerk, as De Royster started out of the hotel.
"I'm going to try to find the cab driver who took them away, and perhaps I can trace Roy. If I can't do it that way I'll notify the police. Roy has been taken away against his will, and maybe they are keeping him in hiding. I'm going to find him!"
Roused into sudden action by the thought of danger to the lad who had aided him, Mortimer De Royster hurried out, a look of determination on his face.
When Roy awakened, after what seemed like a very long sleep, he found himself in a poorly furnished room. At first he could not understand it—everything was so different from his pleasant apartment at the hotel.
He thought it must be a dream, but when he saw his trunk and valises near the bed, he knew he was not asleep.
He sat up and looked about him. The room he was in contained, besides the bed, a table, a few chairs and a small cupboard. As Roy roused a man, seated in one of the chairs, approached the bed.
"So, you're awake, are you?" he asked.
"What's the matter—what has happened, Mr. Wakely?" asked Roy, recognizing the man who had treated him to ice cream soda.
"Oh, you're all right. You're just staying here for a few days."
"But what happened? Did the hotel catch fire? Did I get hurt? Did they bring me here?"
"I brought you here, but the hotel did not catch fire."
"Then why am I not there—in my own room?"
"This is your room for a while."
Something in the man's smile roused Roy's suspicions.
"What do you mean?" he asked quickly.
"Now keep quiet and you'll be all right," spoke Mr. Wakely, in what he meant to be a soothing tone. "You can't help yourself. You're here, and you're going to stay."
All of Roy's energies were aroused. He believed he had been brought to the place for the purposes of robbery. But how had it been done without his knowledge? He started to leave the bed.
"No you don't!" exclaimed Mr. Wakely. "You stay right there."
"What's that?" cried Roy, a sudden fire coming into his eyes, and his hands clenching themselves ready for a fray. "I must say you've got nerve to do this. I'm going to get up, and you and I are going to have a tussel! I guess I haven't roped wild steers, and ridden bucking broncos, for nothing!"
He threw off the covers, noting for the first time that he was fully dressed. But, as he attempted to approach Mr. Wakely a dizziness overcame him, and he sank back, trembling on the bed.
"You see I am right," went on the plotter with an evil smile. "You had better stay where you are."
It seemed to Roy as if all his strength had left him. He had never felt so weak before, save once, when he was recovering from a severe fever.
"Where am I; and what do you want?" he managed to ask.
"Now if you'll promise to lie quietly, I'll tell you," went on the man. "I guess I'll not take any chances though. I'll tie you in bed, and you can listen then."
It did not take him long, in Roy's weakened condition, to fasten the boy securely in the bed, by means of ropes which he took from the cupboard.
"There," remarked Mr. Wakely when he had finished. "I think you'll stay there for a while. Now listen. You have been brought here for a certain purpose. I can't tell you just what it is, but, if you behave yourself, no harm will come to you."
"I think you'll stay there for a while," said Wakely"I think you'll stay there for a while," said Wakely
"I think you'll stay there for a while," said Wakely"I think you'll stay there for a while," said Wakely
"But what right have you got to bring me here?"
"Never mind about that. You're here, and you're going to stay."
"I'll call for help, as soon as I'm able."
"And a lot of good it will do you. You are on the top floor of a tenement house, and there are no tenants except on the first floor. You can yell until you are hoarse, for there is a big electric light plant near here. It runs night and day and it makes so much noise constantly that all the yelling you can do won't be heard above it. Besides, if the tenants should happen to hear you yelling, they'll pay no attention to you, for you are supposed to be crazy. I told 'em so. Now you see how helpless you are."
Roy felt stunned. Why had this man gotten him in his power?
"But I can't see what you want of me," went on Roy weakly. "If it's money, why take what I have, if you mean to rob me."
"No. I'm not going to rob you."
"Then are you kidnapping me, and holding me for a ransom?" Roy had read of such things.
"Not much! Kidnapping isn't in my line. I am acting under orders for a friend of mine. He wants you kept out of the way for a while, and I'm going to do it.
"Now understand. I'm on guard here, or in the next room all the while. If I'm not there some one else will be. If you try to escape it will go hard with you. If you behave you'll be well taken care of, and fed. In a short time—that is, in a week or so—you will be allowed to go. Now, if you'll promise to lie quietly, I'll take off the ropes."
"I'll not promise you anything!"
"Very well, then you stay tied up. I'm going out for a few minutes, but you needn't think you can escape."
The man left, locking the door. As soon as he was gone Roy tried to loosen the bonds, but they were tied too tightly, and he was too weak to accomplish anything.
"I wonder what his object is?" thought the boy from the ranch. "He must have put some drug in that soda to make me partly unconscious. I remember now it had tasted queer. Then he brought me here. But what for? I can't understand it. I wonder if I can escape?"
Once more Roy tried to loosen the ropes, but the effort was too much, and his head, which was not tied down, fell back. He was unconscious.
When Roy regained his senses again, he felt much better. He was still tied down on the bed, and Wakely was sitting near him.
"Well, you were quiet enough," remarked the man with a sneer. "I've got something here to eat. You can take it, if you don't raise a row."
"Oh, I'll take it," said Roy. He knew if he was to make an effort to escape, which he fully intended to do, he would need all his strength, and food was necessary.
"Then, I'll loosen the ropes a bit. But, mind now, no funny work, or I'll tackle you."
Roy had his own opinion as to how he would fare in a tussel with Wakely, but he said nothing. The ropes were loosened and the boy partook of the food. He felt better after it.
It was now dark, and Wakely lighted the gas in the room. Roy wondered whether it was the same day he had been taken from the hotel, or whether several had elapsed. It was the same day, as he learned later.
"Now, I'm going to sleep in the next room," went on the man, "and I warn you I'll awaken at the slightest sound. If you try any tricks—well, it will be better if you don't. As I said, no harm will come to you—if you're quiet."
Roy did not answer. He wanted to think out a plan of action. He was puzzled over the queer situation, and wondering who could have any object in keeping him a prisoner. He did not associate Caleb Annister with it.
After the meal Wakely again adjusted the ropes about the boy on the bed, and Roy offered no objections. He was sure when the time came he could undo the bonds. For what Roy did not know about tying ropes, to hold anything from a bucking bronco to a wild steer, was not worth knowing. He was in a situation now where his life on the ranch was likely to stand him in good stead.
"You can go to sleep whenever you want to," said Wakely. "But remember—no tricks!"
Roy did not answer. He wanted to think, and he knew he could do it best in the dark. Presently Wakely turned off the gas, and withdrew, again locking the door.
It did not need much listening on Roy's part to show that the man had spoken the truth about the noises near the tenement. There sounded the whirr of dynamos, the puffing of steam, the rattle of coal and ashes down chutes—in short it would have taken a loud voice to make itself heard above the racket. A better place to keep a prisoner, in the midst of a great city, could not have been devised.
Nevertheless Roy did not give up hope. He resolved to attempt nothing that night. He wanted daylight to work by, and he felt that Wakely could not be with him all the while.
"But if I stay here more than a day or so there's going to be trouble," thought the boy. "Dad will write or telegraph me, in answer to my letter telling about Annister's game, and, if I can't answer him, he'll get worried. I wish I could understand what this is all about. Maybe they take me for another person. Well, I can't do anything now. I must try to sleep. That stuff he gave me makes my head ache. This shows how foolish I was to trust too much to strangers. When he got me to look around at that handkerchief he must have put something into my soda."
Thus musing, Roy fell into a doze. From that he passed into a heavy sleep, and Wakely, peering in the door a little later, noted with satisfaction that his prisoner was deep in slumber.
"That's good," he whispered. "I can get some rest myself now. It's no joke—being on guard all the while. Some of the others of the gang have got to help out. I must send word to Baker. He's got to take his share."
Roy felt better the next morning, and ate with relish the breakfast Wakely brought in, though the meal was not a very good one.
A little while after this his captor went out, and Roy resolved to attempt to loosen his bonds. It was a hard task, for he could not work to advantage, but to his delight he found he could gradually undo some of the knots.
But he did not cast off the ropes. That was not his plan. As long as he knew he could loosen them at will, he decided to remain as though bound. This would make Wakely think he was in no position to escape, and the man would not keep such close watch.
Soon after this voices were heard in the outer room, and Roy knew some one was with his guard. They did not come into the apartment, and the boy saw nothing of any one until, at noon, more food was brought to him. He deemed it inadvisable to attempt to escape now, and resolved to wait another day.
Night came, supper was brought, and again Roy was locked in. He was beginning to be very uncomfortable, lying in bed so long.
"I'll slip out the first chance I get to-morrow," he thought. "Right after breakfast will be a good time."
Fortune favored him. Soon after Wakely had brought in the morning meal, he went out, locking the door after him. Roy heard another door close, and guessed rightly that his captor had left the building.
"Now's my chance!" thought the boy.
Putting into operation his knowledge of ropes and knots, and, by using his strength, which was not small, he managed to loosen his bonds. In a few minutes he was standing in the middle of the room free.
"Now for the door!" Roy murmured. "I wonder if I can break it open, or work the lock?"
A moment's inspection served to show him that to open the portal was out of the question. The lock was a heavy one. The door itself was solid, not one with panels, and, after trying it cautiously, for Roy did not want to make a noise, he decided he could not escape that way.
There was only one other means,—the window. He went to it and looked out. It was fully sixty feet from the ground, and there was nothing, in the shape of a lightning rod, or a rain-pipe leader to cling to. Nothing but the bare tenement house wall, broken here and there with other windows.
Roy leaned far out. He knew it was useless to shout, as the noise from the electric shop drowned all other sound. Nor could he see any one whose attention he might attract.
It was necessary for him that he work quickly, for Wakely, or one of his friends, might return any moment. Yet how could Roy get out of the window and to the ground?
He looked about the room for something to aid him. His first thought was of the bed clothes. He had read of persons tying sheets together, after tearing them into strips, and so making a rope. But there were no sheets on his bed, merely a small blanket, for it was warm weather. There was nothing in the shape of a rope in the room. It looked as if Roy would have to remain a prisoner.
Suddenly an idea came to him as he looked at his large valise which, with his trunk, had been brought to his room.
"I have it!" he exclaimed. "My lasso! It's long enough!"
It did not take a minute to get it from the valise. It was a long thin lariat, strong enough to support several pounds, and he knew it would reach over a hundred feet.
"Lucky I thought to bring that with me," he said, "though Billy Carew laughed at me, and asked if I expected to rope any steers in the streets of New York. I guess he didn't figure on this."
It did not take Roy two minutes to fasten one end of the lariat to the bed, which was the heaviest article in the room. Then he tossed the other end out of the window, noting that it touched the ground, with several feet to spare.
"Now for it!" murmured the boy. "It's a dangerous climb, to go down hand over hand, but I think I can slide it!"
Testing the lasso to make sure it was securely fastened, he put one leg over the window sill, grasped the lariat with both hands, and swung himself off.
As he did so he heard the door of his room open, and some one rushed in. There was a cry of alarm.
"That's Wakely," reasoned Roy. "He's discovered that I'm gone."
An instant later the face of Wakely appeared at the window. He shouted to Roy:
"Come back here!"
"Not much!"
"Then I'll cut the rope!"
Wakely drew out his knife, but, before he had a chance to use it he was pulled back, and the face of Mortimer De Royster replaced that of Roy's late captor.
Roy was so astonished at the sight of his friend, the jewelry salesman, peering out of the window that he nearly let go his hold of the rope. He recovered himself quickly, however, and slid on toward the ground. As he looked up at the casement he could see that De Royster and Wakely were having some kind of a struggle.
"I must go back and help him," thought Roy. "Mr. De Royster is no match for that fellow. I'd like to tackle him on my own account, though he was not cruel to me while he had me a prisoner."
His determination to do this was increased when his friend leaned out of the window, and called:
"Come on up, Roy! Help me!"
"He's plucky to tackle that fellow alone," thought the boy from the ranch.
But now he had no time for musings. He must act. As he let go the rope, his feet having touched the ground, he found himself in the not very clean yard of the tenement.
About him were boxes and barrels of rubbish, decaying vegetables were on all sides, besides tin cans and heaps of refuse. Clearly the tenants in the house were not particular.
Roy looked about him. The yard was surrounded by a high fence, and there were no persons in sight. To the rear was the electric light plant, and on either side, the yards of other tenement houses. Then Roy saw an alley, which, he thought, would lead to the street.
Leaving his lariat dangling, he made a dash for the alley and soon found himself in front of the tenement house, where he had so recently been a prisoner.
Up the stairs he went on the jump, and, as he came near the room where he had been held, he could hear the sound of a struggle.
"They're fighting!" he thought. "I must help De Royster!"
As he entered the apartment he saw the jewelry salesman holding Wakely by the wrists, while the man was endeavoring to get away.
"Quiet now, my dear fellow!" exclaimed Mortimer De Royster. "I say, old chap, you can't get away, don't you know. I've got you, and I'm going to have you arrested."
"You are, eh? I'll see about that!" exclaimed Wakely. "Let go of me!"
At the same time he gave a violent wrench.
"Hold on, my dear fellow," remonstrated De Royster. "You mustn't do that, don't you know."
In spite of his rather slight built De Royster was proving himself almost a match for Wakely. But his strength was not of the lasting kind, while the other's was.
"Let me go!" fiercely demanded Wakely. "If you don't it will be the worst for you!"
At the same time he gave such a yank that he succeeded in freeing one arm. But De Royster was not going to give up so easily. He grabbed Wakely around the waist.
At that moment Roy made a rush for Wakely. Just as he was about to grab him, he was thrust aside by some one from behind. Wakely turned, gave one look at the newcomer, and cried:
"Quick! Tell Annister he's escaped!"
Wakely had not yet observed Roy, as the boy from the ranch was back of him. Then the man who had taken Roy from the hotel succeeded in breaking the hold De Royster and Roy had on him. He dashed from the room, just as the other man, to whom he had called the warning, also ran out. Both seemed much frightened.
"Hold on!" cried De Royster, as if either of the men would stop for that. "Hold on! I know you."
"Come on! We'll get 'em!" shouted Roy, turning quickly and starting after his captor and the confederate.
But he was too late.
Wakely slammed the door of the room shut, and locked it, and Roy knew it would be useless to try and open it.
"Break the door down!" exclaimed Mortimer De Royster. "We can catch them!"
"The door's too strong," replied Roy.
"Then we're caught!"
"Yes, but don't worry. I can go down the lariat the same as I did before."
"Perhaps you can, but I can't my dear fellow."
"Oh, I'll come up the stairs and open the door for you, if the key's there. Say, but how did you get here, anyhow?"
"I came after you. I've been tracing you for hours. What does it all mean, Roy? Why did they take you a prisoner?"
"I don't know. Wait until I get my breath and I'll talk."
"That's so. I'm a little troubled that way myself, don't you know. If I could have held that chap a little longer I would have had him."
"Yes, but he had help at hand."
"Right again, old chap. The other man came in at the wrong time. You know who he was, don't you?"
"No. I didn't get a good look at his face. Who was he?"
"One of the four swindlers from out West who got my watch and diamond pin!"
"You don't mean it;" cried Roy, much excited. He began to understand part of the plot now.
"That's who he was," declared the dudish salesman. "I knew him at once, but I couldn't warn you. I needed all my breath to hold that other man. What was his name? I've forgotten."
"He called himself Wakely. I met him at my hotel."
The exciting incidents of the last few minutes, and the surprise created by De Royster's announcement that one of the train swindlers was a friend of Wakely, set Roy to thinking.
"Did you hear what the fellow, whom I was holding, said just before he got away?" asked Mr. De Royster, after a pause.
"Yes, he said 'Quick! Tell Annister he's escaped!'"
"I wonder what he meant?"
"I reckon I can explain. I might as well tell you the whole story of why I came to New York, and you will understand. Caleb Annister is the name of the man who is agent for some property my father and I own. It was this man whose actions I came to investigate. I found him to be a swindler, and I gave him a short time in which to pay back the money he had wrongfully retained."
"What did he say?"
"He tried to explain, but it was a pretty poor explanation. I caught him 'with the goods on him', as we say out West."
"But why should this man whom I held—this Wakely—want the other to warn Annister about some one escaping?"
"That 'some one' was me. I believe Annister got these fellows to get me out of the way for a time, until he could work some of his schemes. Perhaps he thought I would be frightened, and go back West, where I could not bother him any more.
"Are you going?"
"Not a bit. I'm going to keep right after him. I begin to see through his plot. This man Wakely came to my hotel purposely to get acquainted with me. Then he drugged me, and got me out to this place, where he kept me a prisoner. What was to be the outcome I don't know. But I am surprised to hear you say that the other man who came into the room was one of the swindlers who robbed you."
"I am sure of it. I would never forget his face. Wakely, too, seems familiar, but I can't place him."
"Maybe Wakely is a member of their gang, and perhaps Annister, too, is in with them."
"I shouldn't be surprised. What do you think we had better do?"
Neither of them yet recognized Wakely as Tupper.
"I think we'd better get out of this place before they come back with reinforcements," said Roy with a laugh. He was cool, despite what he had gone through, for he was somewhat used to meeting danger and doing his best to escape.
"I'll slide down my rope again," he went on, "come up the stairs, and open the door. Then we can talk it over. I must get my baggage away from here."
It did not take the boy long to repeat his feat with the lariat, and soon, having found a key, he opened the door from without, releasing Mortimer De Royster.
"Now, what's the first thing to be done, my dear chap?" asked De Royster, as Roy loosed the lasso from the bed and coiled it up.
"Arrange to get my stuff away from here. I reckon, and back to my hotel. Then I want to hear how you traced me."
"I'll tell you. But I agree with you that we had better leave this place. Let's go down to the street and engage an expressman."
They found one who agreed to take Roy's baggage back to the hotel. After seeing it safely in the wagon, during which time a few of the tenants in the house looked on curiously, but said nothing, the two friends started for the hotel, where Roy had been stopping.
"As soon as I called at your hotel that night, and found you had been taken away, sick, by a man who had only recently come to the place, I suspected something was wrong," explained Mr. De Royster, on the way. "The clerk told me about you going away in a cab, and gave me a fairly good description of the driver, whom he had a glimpse of. It was a cab seldom seen in this part of the city.
"I knew my best plan, don't you know, would be to find that driver, and learn where he had taken you and your baggage. My idea was that some sharpers had gotten you into their power to rob you. I never suspected there was such a deep plot."
"Neither did I," replied Roy, "and I don't believe we have seen the last of it."
"Well," went on De Royster, "I had quite a time tracing that cabman. I must have interviewed nearly fifty drivers before I found one who knew a fellow that answered the description of the one who had taken you away. But at last I located him, and, though he was reluctant at first, to tell me what I wanted to know, he did, after I threatened to call in the police."
"Would you have done so?"
"Certainly. I felt that you were in danger, for you know little of New York."
"That's so, and I'm afraid it will take me a long time to learn. I'm pretty green."
"Well, you may be in some things, but you can go ahead of New Yorkers in lots of ways. That was a great trick, sliding down that lasso."
"It was lucky I had it with me."
"Indeed it was, and it was a good thing those scoundrels took your baggage as well as you, or you might have been there yet."
"No, for you would have helped me, I reckon. You arrived just a few minutes after I had started to escape. How did you manage it?"
"Well, as I said, my dear chap," replied De Royster, adjusting his one eye glass, which had fallen out during the struggle with Wakely, "I made the cabman tell me where he took you, and, after that it was an easy matter to locate you. I got to the tenement right behind Wakely and I followed him up the stairs, though, then, I didn't know who he was, and I rushed into the room as soon as he opened the door, for he forgot to close it when he looked at the bed and saw it empty. I suspected you had been in here, when I saw what a lonesome sort of place it was. I pulled him back, just as he had his knife out, ready to cut the lasso."
"I hardly believe he would have dared to cut it," said Roy. "He only wanted to scare me into coming back."
"Perhaps he did. But I was not going to take any chances; I just grabbed him."
"That was fine on your part."
"Oh, that's nothing. Look what you did for me. I only paid you back a little."
"Nonsense. As if I wanted pay."
"Of course you didn't, but I was glad of the chance. I only wish I could have held Wakely. Now, I suppose he'll go and tell Annister, and they'll keep right after you."
"Do you think so?"
"I believe so, from what you tell me of the men."
"Then what would you advise me to do?"
"Let me think it over a bit. Suppose we go to your room?"
"All right."
There was considerable surprise on the part of the clerk at the hotel when Roy came back. On the way he and Mortimer De Royster had agreed it would be better not to say anything about the reason for the taking away of the boy from the ranch—a veritable kidnapping in fact. So it was explained that Roy had recovered from his temporary illness, and had simply been away on business, which was true enough in its way,—though it was not very pleasant business.
"Now," said De Royster, when he and Roy were once more back in the former's room. "This is what I would do. I would consult a good lawyer, and let him advise me. I think this is too much for you to handle alone."
"I believe you are right. Do you know a good lawyer?"
"I can introduce you to the one who does business for our firm. He is very reliable, and his charges are reasonable."
"Then we will go see him, after I have changed my clothes. Sleeping in them hasn't made them look exactly as new as they were."
"That's a good idea. Have you heard from your father since writing to him about Annister?"
"I don't know. Perhaps a letter came while I was away. I wonder where they would send it?"
"They would keep it here until you gave them some instructions for forwarding it. I'll inquire at the desk for you while you are changing your clothes."
As Roy had purchased two suits on coming to New York, he had a new one to put on, while the other was sent to be pressed. He had not finished dressing when De Royster came back.
"No letters, but there's a telegram," he said, handing Roy the yellow envelope.
The boy tore it open and read:
"Letter received. No doubt Annister is swindler. You are doing right. Keep after him. Don't spare expense. Take property from his control, and give to some good man. I leave it to you. Answer when you get this."
"Why this came yesterday," said Roy. "Dad will be wondering why he doesn't hear from me."
"Then you had better answer at once. There is a branch telegraph office in the hotel lobby. Write an answer and I'll take it down while you finish dressing."
A reply was soon prepared and sent. Meanwhile Roy got ready for the street and, accompanied by De Royster, he went to the lawyer's office.
The legal gentleman greeted Mortimer De Royster cordially. Roy was quite surprised to find out how many friends the jewelry salesman had. Everyone seemed to like him in spite of his odd ways.
Roy's story was soon told. The lawyer took off his gold spectacles, wiped them carefully with a silk handkerchief, replaced them, looked at Roy over the tops of them, and remarked:
"Hum!"
It was not very encouraging, nor did it tell very much. Roy began to fear he had not made himself clear.
"I would like—" he began.
"What you want is my advice as to how next to proceed; isn't it?" asked the lawyer, as though he had come to some decision, as indeed he had.
"Yes, sir."
"Well, I shall have to look into this matter of the property. Evidently Mr. Annister has some reason for wanting you out of the way. What it is we shall have to discover. Meanwhile you had better do nothing."
"But suppose they kidnap him again?" asked De Royster.
"I don't believe they'll dare do that. Perhaps you had better take care where you go, however. In the meanwhile I will make some inquiries about this property. I will communicate with you as soon as I have anything to report."
"Do you think you can make Mr. Annister give back the money he has wrongfully kept?" asked Roy.
"I'm afraid I can't give you an opinion until I have looked further into the case," said the lawyer with a smile. "It may be necessary to take civil action, and we might have to make a criminal complaint. Now don't worry about it. I'll look after it. Just you keep out of the way of those men."
"I will," agreed Roy with a laugh. "I'm not afraid of them, however. I'll be ready for them next time."
"Another thing," went on the lawyer, "don't drink ice cream sodas, or anything else, with strangers."
"I'll stick to Mr. De Royster," said the boy. "I reckon if I trail along with him they'll not be able to rope me."
"Rope you? Oh, yes, I understand," replied the lawyer with a smile. "Yes, that's right. Good morning."
"What next?" asked Roy of Mortimer De Royster, as they emerged from the lawyer's office.
"Well, as it's getting near dinner time, suppose we go back to the hotel."
"That's a good idea. Will you stay and have grub with me—I mean lunch. I must get used to calling it that while I'm in New York."
"Yes, thank you. I've got a good appetite since that tussel with Wakely."
"You had nerve to tackle him."
"I thought he was going to cut the rope and let you drop."
"If he had, that would have been the end of me. I'd have 'passed in my chips,' as the card players say."
"Those card players! I'd like to meet them. I'd get even with them for stealing my watch and diamond!"
"Maybe you'll have a chance, when we round up Annister."
"If we ever do. But I imagine he's too slick a criminal to be caught."
"We'll see," said Roy.
"What would you like to do this afternoon?" asked De Royster, when the meal was finished. "I can show you some sights if you'd like to see them."
"I sure would. I haven't had much time so far. There wasn't a great deal to see in that tenement."
"Then we'll go up to Bronx Park. We can make a quick trip in the subway."
"That's the place I thought was a tunnel, and I was wondering when we would come to the end," and Roy laughed at the memory of his natural mistake.
The two friends had a good time in the Park, looking at the animals. The herd of buffalo interested Roy very much, as did the elephants, tigers, and other beasts from tropical countries, for he had never seen any before, since no circuses ever came to Painted Stone, nor anywhere in that vicinity.
"You haven't got any of these out West; have you?" asked Mortimer De Royster, with a New Yorker's usual pride in the big Zoo.
"No, and we don't want 'em."
"Why not?"
"They'd stampede the cattle in seven counties. What would a drove of steers or a band of horses do if they saw one of them elephants coming at 'em, so's they couldn't tell which end was the tail? Or one of them long-necked giraffes? Why, those giraffes would starve out our way. There's no trees tall enough for 'em to eat their breakfast from."
They went into the reptile house, and the snakes fascinated Roy. He paused before a glass box of rattlers.
"There's something we've got out West," he said, "and we'd give a good deal not to have 'em. We lose lots of cattle from snake-bites—those ugly rattlers! I don't like to look at 'em! I nearly stepped on one once, and he stuck his fangs in my boot."
"What did you do?"
"Stepped on it and killed it. Come on; let's look at something more pleasant."
They spent the rest of the day in the Park, and returned to the hotel that evening.
For about a week nothing occurred. Mortimer De Royster took Roy for occasional pleasure trips, including one jaunt to Coney Island, where the boy from the ranch had his first glimpse of the ocean. The big waves, and the immense expanse of water, astonished him more than anything he had seen in New York.
"I never knew there was so much water in the world," he said. "This would be fine out our way in time of drouth, when all the pastures dry up."
"I'm afraid it would be worse than none at all," said Mr. De Royster. "It's salt, and it would kill the grass."
"That's so. I didn't think about that."
They went in bathing, and took in many amusements at the pleasure resort. It was quite late when they got back to the hotel, and De Royster did not go all the way with Roy, turning off to go to his own boarding house, which was about a mile from where Roy was stopping.
"I'll see you to-morrow," called the jewelry salesman, as the two parted. "I guess the lawyer will have some word for us then."
"There's a note for you," said the hotel clerk to Roy as the boy entered, and he handed over a sealed envelope. In the upper left hand corner was the printed name and address of the lawyer to whom De Royster had taken him.
"Mr. Felix Ketchum must have some news for me," thought Roy, as he opened the note. It was a written request for him to call at a certain address that night, where he would receive some information that would be of service to him, and the communication was signed with Mr. Ketchum's name. A postscript stated that the lawyer would be there.
"That's queer," thought the boy. "I wonder why he didn't have me call at his office? But perhaps he has to work secretly against Annister. I guess that's it."
"When did this note come?" he asked the clerk.
"Right after dinner."
"Dinner?"
"I mean the evening dinner—I suppose you call it supper out West," and the clerk smiled.
"That's what we do. Who brought this?"
"A boy. He said there was no answer. Hope it isn't bad news."
"No; only a business matter. Can you tell me where the Bowery is?"
"The Bowery. You're not going there; are you?"
"Yes, I have an appointment to meet a man there," and Roy mentioned the number.
"You want to be careful," cautioned the clerk. "It's not the best place in the world after dark. Don't take much money with you, for you might be robbed."
"Aren't there policemen there?"
"Yes, but they can't be all over. That address is not far from the Chinese district, and it's a hanging-out place for thieves and criminals."
"Funny that Mr. Ketchum should want me to go there," thought Roy, "but perhaps he has to get evidence against Mr. Annister from a man who doesn't care to be seen during the day. I guess I'll chance it. There can't be much danger in the midst of a big city, with policemen around. Besides I'll be on my guard. I wish I could tell Mr. De Royster. But, no, I'll not bother him. He'll think I'm a regular baby, not able to take care of myself."
This thought decided Roy to go alone. He suspected nothing, but, had he known more about New York, he would have considered twice before venturing into one of the worst parts of that great city.
The clerk once more cautioned the boy, gave him directions how to get to the address on the Bowery, and in due time Roy arrived there. Part of the street was brilliantly lighted, but the building where he was directed to call, was in a dark location, and did not look very inviting.
"I wonder if this is it?" thought Roy. "Guess I'll ask."
He saw a door opening into a dim hallway. A man was standing there.
"Is Mr. Ketchum in this building?" asked Roy, for the note had instructed him to ask for the lawyer.
"Yes, come on in," said the man gruffly.
Roy advanced. The door shut after him with a click, and he was left in almost total darkness. At the same time he felt some one grab him.
"Have you got him?" cried a voice. "Don't hurt him, but hold him tight."
Roy recognized the voice as that of Caleb Annister!
As he felt arms closing around him he kicked out vigorously. There was a howl of pain, but Roy was not released. He knew that once more he was in the hands of Annister's accomplices.