To Alaska for Gold; Or, The Fortune Hunters of the Yukon

by Edward Stratemeyer

  CHAPTER IV.

  A SERIOUS SET-BACK.

  Earl and Randy could scarcely believe their ears. What was thisgentleman in rusty black saying, that two men had been identified asthemselves and had called for the money sent on by their Uncle Foster?

  "There is a mistake somewhere," said the clerk, turning to the brothers."You say you are Earl and Randolph Portney?"

  "We are," both replied, in a breath.

  "Two men were here not two hours ago and were identified as the ones toreceive the money. They had a letter from their uncle, in which hewanted them to come to San Francisco and join him in a trip to Alaska."

  "That letter was ours!" burst out Earl. "I lost it a couple of daysago."

  The clerk turned to the elderly gentleman, who looked more serious thanever.

  "Have you any idea who those men were?" asked the gentleman.

  "They were a couple of thieves, that's certain," said Randy, bluntly."The money was to come to us and nobody else."

  "Where did you lose that letter?"

  "I lost it on the road between Naddy Brook and Spruceville," repliedEarl, and gave some of the particulars. The full story of his uncle'soffer to Randy and himself followed, to which Mr. Stone listenedclosely. He was a fair judge of human nature, and saw at once that thetwo boys were no sharpers and that their story was most likely true.

  "Well, if you are the real Portney brothers, we are out exactly threehundred dollars," he said, after considerable talking. "I paid over thatmoney in good faith, too, on the strength of the letter and theidentification."

  "We had nothing to do with that," answered Earl, stoutly, feeling hemust stand up for his rights.

  "Of course not, but--Just wait here a few minutes, and I'll try to findthat clerk from the restaurant who identified the rascals."

  Mr. Stone put on a silk hat and went out, to be gone nearly or quitehalf an hour. He returned accompanied by another man--a policeofficial--to whom the particulars of the occurrence had been given.

  "That identification was also part of the swindle," the brokerexplained. "I could not find the clerk at the restaurant, and I amconvinced now that he was not the man he made me believe he was."

  "But what about our money?" said Earl, coldly, thinking the broker mighttry to shift the responsibility of the affair.

  "If you can find some reliable party known to us to identify you, I willpay the sum to you," was the answer. "But I've got to be sure of theidentification this time--and you can't blame me for that," added thebroker, with a short laugh.

  "No, we can't blame you for that," repeated Earl, yet at the same timewondering who there was in that strange city who knew them.

  "I don't know of any one here who knows us," put in Randy, reading hiselder brother's thought. "I wish Uncle had sent the money in some otherway."

  "See here," put in the police official. "Since those swindlers had theletter that was lost up near where you come from, perhaps you know themen. Mr. Stone, can't you describe them?"

  As well as he was able the broker did so. But the description was soindefinite that both Earl and Randy shook their heads.

  "I know a dozen men who look a good deal like that description," saidthe older brother. "It's possible they were lumbermen like ourselves."

  "Yes, they did look like lumbermen," replied Mr. Stone. "That is why Iwas not so particular about their identification."

  For another half hour the matter was talked over, and then as it wasgetting time to close up the office for the day, Earl and Randy left, tofind some one to identify them, were such a thing possible. At thecorner of the block both halted.

  "I'm blessed if I know what to do," were Randy's words. "I can't thinkof a soul who knows us here."

  "There used to be a man named Curtis Gordon who once lived at Basco--heowned the feed mill there. He came to Boston and started a flourbusiness. But whether he would remember me is a question. He hasn't seenme in about eight years."

  "We might try him--it would be better than nothing!" cried Randy,eagerly. "Let us hunt him up in the directory."

  This was done, and they found Mr. Curtis Gordon's place of businessafter a search lasting over an hour. Several clerks were in attendancewho supplied the information that Mr. Gordon had gone to New York, andwould not be back for two days.

  "Stumped again," murmured Randy, dismally. "Did you ever see such luck!"

  "Never give up," answered Earl, as cheerfully as he could. "I wonder ifMrs. Gordon lives in town."

  "What if she does?"

  "I'd call on her, and perhaps she can help us out. She used to know me."

  From the clerks in the store they received the Gordons' home address.It was a fine place on the Back Bay, and it was nightfall by the timethe boys reached it. They were ushered into the waiting-hall by aservant, who immediately went off to notify her mistress, who was atdinner.

  From the dining-room came a murmur of talking, and one of the voicessounded strangely familiar to Earl. "Hark, Randy," he whispered. "Isn'tthat Squire Dobson speaking?"

  "It is!" ejaculated Randy. "We are saved at last!"

  Mrs. Gordon came to them a minute later, having excused herself to herguest. The boys' mission was soon explained, Earl at the same timeoffering an excuse for calling at the meal hour. He mentioned SquireDobson, and that individual was called from the table.

  "Well, well!" exclaimed the squire of Basco, a short, stout, and ratherjolly type of a country official. "I didn't expect to see you in Boston,although I heard yesterday that you were bound for Alaska or some suchplace. Mrs. Gordon, these are Daniel Portney's boys,--you must rememberDaniel Portney,--the one who lost his life in that dreadful forest fireup our way some years ago."

  Mrs. Gordon did remember, and she gave both lads a warm greeting. It wasseveral minutes before Earl could get down to business, and then thematter of identification was left to Squire Dobson, who said he wouldsee them through in the morning, as soon as the Bartwell & Stone officeswere open.

  "I don't know them," he said, "but I know some bankers on the sameblock, and we can introduce each other."

  Mrs. Gordon was glad enough to see some folks from the district whichhad once been her home, and asked the brothers to partake of dinner withthe squire and her family of boys and girls. After some hesitation, theinvitation was accepted, and two hours were spent at the mansion.

  During the course of this time it was learned by Earl and Randy thatSquire Dobson had come down from Maine in search of his son, ahappy-go-lucky lad, who had run away from home, as previously mentioned.The squire had heard from a friend that Fred had been seen near thedocks in Boston, but he had been unable so far to locate the waywardyouth.

  "I'm afraid he has either gone to New York or on some long ocean trip,"said the squire to Earl. "He's a foolish boy and is causing me no end oftrouble. If you ever run across him, send him home at once."

  "I will--if he'll go," answered Earl; but neither he nor Randy everdreamed of meeting Fred Dobson where they did.

  The visit over, the brothers left, to hunt up some cheap hotel at whichto stop for the night. This was an easy matter, and at ten o'clock theyretired. A sound sleep, however, was out of the question, for both wereanxious concerning the outcome of their dealings with Bartwell & Stone.

  Promptly at the hour appointed they met the squire at the office of thebrokers and bankers. Another banker, well known to both Squire Dobsonand to Mr. Stone, was introduced all around, and thus Randy and Earl'sidentification was established beyond a doubt. This accomplished, Earlreceived three hundred dollars in cash, for which he and Randy signed areceipt; and the transaction was over.

  Just outside of the office, the boys separated from the squire of Basco,and the former lost no time in making their way to the depot of the NewYork & New England Railroad.

  "I don't know what route is best to take to San Francisco," said Earl."I guess we had better buy tickets as far as New York first." And thiswas done; and a few hours later saw them safe on board a train, withtheir
baggage in the car ahead. At the depot Earl had obtained a numberof folders of different routes to the west, and these he intended tostudy while on his way to the great metropolis.

  "Oh, but railroad travelling is fine!" cried Randy, enthusiastically, asthe long train sped on its way through hills and valleys, and pastnumerous pretty towns and villages, all alive with the hum of a thousandindustries. "One feels as if he would like to ride forever!"

  "I'm afraid you'll be tired of riding by the time we reach SanFrancisco," said Earl, who, nevertheless, also enjoyed the journey."This is only a little trip of six or seven hours. The next will be oneof many days and nights."

  "I wonder how they sleep on a train," went on Randy, curiously.

  "We'll learn soon enough, Randy. Only don't let every one see how greenwe are," added Earl, in a whisper.

  At one of the stations in Connecticut, where a ten minutes' stop wasmade, the two lads alighted to stretch their legs and take a lookaround. They had been seated in the last car, and now they walkedforward along the broad platform.

  Suddenly Randy caught his brother's arm. "Earl! Earl! look!" heejaculated, and pointed to a window of the smoking-car. "There are TomRoland and Jasper Guardley! What can they be doing on this train?"

  Earl glanced to where Randy pointed and saw that his brother was right.At the same instant Tom Roland saw them, and he drew back and motionedfor his companion to do the same. Earl noted the movement and stoodstock-still.

  "Randy, I wonder--" he began, and stopped short.

  "What, Earl? Isn't it queer they should be on this train from Boston?"

  "Yes. Randy, do you think it is possible that Tom Roland would be sodishonest as to--to--"

  "To get that money, Earl?" broke in the younger boy. "He might be--andyes, Mr. Stone's description of the two swindlers fits Roland andGuardley exactly!"