The Rover Boys Megapack

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The Rover Boys Megapack Page 263

by Edward Stratemeyer


  “Must have picked that up at some second-hand store,” was Sam’s comment.

  The valise was unlocked and the clerk opened it. It contained nothing but a comb and brush and some magazines.

  “Humph! A dead beat!” muttered the clerk. “He put the magazines inside to make the valise feel as if it was filled with clothing. It’s an old game. Be intended to leave without paying his bill. I wish you had collared him!”

  “I wish I had,” answered Dick; and then he and his brothers returned to their own rooms.

  “What have you got to tell?” demanded Tom, when they were alone.

  “I’ve found out who that man was,” answered Dick.

  “Who?” questioned Sam.

  “Josiah Crabtree.”

  CHAPTER XV

  AT THE BROKERS’ OFFICE

  Sam and Tom gazed at their brother in amazement.

  “Josiah Crabtree!” exclaimed the youngest Rover.

  “How did you find that out?” questioned Tom.

  “I suspected Crabtree as soon as I saw the man jump into the taxicab,” answered Dick. “There was something about his form, and in the way he ran, that looked familiar. Then the taxi driver told me he had two front teeth filled with gold. That put me on the trail, and from what the man told me I am sure the fellow was old Crabtree.”

  “But if it was Crabtree, what has he to do with dad’s visit to New York?” asked Sam.

  “That remains to be found out. But one thing is sure. Crabtree knows that father is missing,—and he had that extra key made to get into the room during father’s absence.”

  “But where is dad? Do you imagine Crabtree had anything to do with his disappearance?” came from Tom.

  “I certainly do. Maybe Crabtree is holding him a prisoner.”

  “Then Pelter, Japson & Company haven’t anything to do with it?”

  “I wouldn’t say that, Tom. The whole crowd may be working together.”

  “You think Crabtree knows those other men?”

  “It may be so—I am not sure. But I am sure of one thing,” went on Dick, decidedly. “Dad didn’t meet with any accident. His disappearance is due to Crabtree, and, likely, to some of his other enemies.”

  “Well, that clears up one corner of the mystery,” said Sam. “But it doesn’t get us any nearer to finding dad.”

  “I think it does, Sam. If we can locate Crabtree, I think we can locate father.”

  “But how are we going to locate Crabtree?”

  “I don’t know. But if we keep our eyes and ears open we may learn something. In the morning some of us can call on those brokers and see what they have to say,” continued the big brother.

  “Some of us? I thought we were all going?” remarked Tom.

  “I’ve got a new plan, Tom; I’ll tell you about it in the morning. Now, as there is no use of watching that room any longer, let us try to get a little sleep.”

  “It will be very little,” murmured Sam, consulting his watch. “It is nearly five o’clock already!”

  “We’ll sleep until eight o’clock. Those brokers don’t get to business until nearly ten.”

  Once more the boys retired, and, after much turning, all dropped into slumber. Dick had made up his mind to awaken at eight o’clock and promptly at that hour he opened his eyes. His brothers were still asleep and he allowed them half an hour longer, for he knew they needed it.

  “Now then, Dick, what’s your programme?” asked Tom, while he was dressing.

  “My programme is this,” answered the big brother. “Instead of the three of us calling on Pelter, Japson & Company I think one is enough—and that ought to be me, for I have already met Mr. Pelter, once, when I came to New York with dad.”

  “But what do you want to leave us out for?” grumbled Sam.

  “I don’t want to leave you out—I want you to be doing something else, for we have no time to lose in this matter. I want you, Sam, to come with me, and when I go into the offices, I want you to hang around outside and watch for old Crabtree. If he is in league with the brokers he may be looking for a chance to interview them, but he will be on his guard, knowing that we are here.”

  “What am I to do?” asked Tom.

  “I think you had better go up to Central Park, Tom, and see if you can find out anything there about Crabtree. Maybe some of the night prowlers around there saw him last night. Anyway, I don’t want you to be seen at the offices with me—for I’ve got another plan in my head—if this one fails,” went on Dick.

  “All right, Dick, we’ll do what you say,” was Tom’s reply.

  The boys went below and obtained breakfast in the hotel restaurant. Then they went to the desk, to ask for letters, and then to the telegraph office, to send a brief message to the farm.

  “Have you discovered anything?” questioned the hotel manager, as he came up to them.

  “Not a great deal,” answered Dick. “But we hope to get on the track of something today.”

  “Hope you do. What about those two rooms?”

  “We’ll keep them for the present, Mr. Garley.”

  “All right.”

  “And I want you to watch out, so that no outsider gets into them,” went on Dick.

  “Leave that to me, Mr. Rover. My men have their instructions. We can’t afford to leave our guests go unprotected.”

  “Good! If anybody tries to get into our rooms I want you to have him arrested and held.”

  “He’ll be held, don’t worry about that,” answered the hotel manager, grimly.

  A little later the three Rover boys separated, Tom walking over to Fifth Avenue, to take an auto bus going uptown, as that would land him close to the Park entrance.

  “We might as well take a Broadway car down to Wall street,” said Dick, to Sam. “We have plenty of time, and I don’t like the air in the subway.”

  “I like the street cars better anyway,” responded the younger brother. “A fellow can see more.”

  As was to be expected, the car was crowded, and the boys had to take “strap seats,” as Sam called them—standing up in the aisle, holding on to a strap to keep from falling or sitting down suddenly into somebody’s lap when the car made a turn. They swept down past Union Square and block after block of tall business buildings.

  “My, what a big place New York is!” remarked Sam. “It’s a regular bee hive and no mistake.”

  “We are coming down to the Post Office,” said Dick, a little later.

  “Gracious! See the building opposite!” gasped Sam. “It’s higher than a church steeple! Wonder how many stories it is?”

  “Fifty stories,” answered a young man standing beside him.

  Soon the car was in lower Broadway, and the boys watched out for Wall street, that narrow but famous thoroughfare opposite Trinity church. It was soon reached, and, in company with several men and boys, they left the car.

  Dick had the address of the brokers in his pocket and the place was easily found. The offices were located in an old building—one of the oldest on the street, and also one of the shabbiest. But it was five stories in height and boasted of two elevators, and was, from appearances, filled with prosperous tenants. In Wall street rents are so high that many a person doing business there is willing to take whatever quarters he can get.

  “Now you hang around in the street here until I come back,” said Dick to Sam. “Keep out of sight all you can, so that if Crabtree comes along he won’t see you. I’ll go up and see what Pelter, Japson & Company have to say.”

  “How long will you be gone, Dick?”

  “Not more than half an hour at the most—and maybe not half that,” responded the big brother.

  Sam dropped behind and Dick entered the dingy office building. From the directory on the wall the oldest Rover boy learned that the brokers were located on the fourth floo
r, rooms 408 to 412,—the numerals really meaning offices 8 to 12 on floor 4. He got into one of the narrow elevators and soon reached the fourth floor.

  The offices of Pelter, Japson & Company were located in the rear, overlooking the roof of a restaurant on the street beyond. Dick entered a tiny waiting room and an office boy came to ask what he wanted.

  “I wish to see Mr. Pelter,” said Dick.

  “Not in yet.”

  “When do you expect him?”

  “Ought to be here now.”

  “Then I’ll wait,” and Dick dropped on a chair. He had hardly done so when the door opened and a burly individual hurried in. He gave Dick an inquiring look.

  “Wants to see you, Mr. Pelter,” said the office boy. “Just came in.”

  “Want to see me? What is it?” and the head of the brokerage firm stepped up to Dick.

  “You are Mr. Pelter?”

  “Yes.”

  “I am Richard Rover—Anderson Rover’s son.”

  “Ah! indeed!” cried Jesse Pelter, and gave a slight start. “Glad to meet you, Mr. Rover,” and he held out his hand. “Will you—er—step into my office?”

  He led the way through two offices to one in the extreme rear. This was well furnished, with a desk, a table, several chairs and a bookcase filled with legal-looking volumes. In one corner was a telephone booth, and a telephone connection also rested on the desk.

  “I came to see about my father,” said Dick, as he sat down in a chair to which the broker motioned.

  “You mean, about your father’s business, I suppose.”

  “No, about my father. Do you know where he is, Mr. Pelter?”

  “Know where he is? What do you mean? Isn’t he in New York?” The broker pretended to arrange some papers on his desk as he spoke and did not look at Dick.

  “He has disappeared and I thought you might know something about it.”

  Dick looked the man full in the face. He saw the broker start and then try to control himself.

  “Well that—er—accounts for it,” said Jesse Pelter, slowly, as if trying to make up his mind what to say.

  “Accounts for what?”

  “Why, he didn’t come back here as he said he would.”

  “He has been here then?”

  “Yes, a number of days ago. We had quite some important business to transact. He said he would come back the next day and sign some papers, and fix up some other matters. But he didn’t come.”

  “Did he say he would be here sure?”

  “He did. So he has disappeared? That is strange. Perhaps some accident happened to him.”

  “I hope not. I knew he came to New York to see you and your partners. I thought you could tell me something about him.”

  “I don’t know any more than that he called here one day and said he would come in again the next, Mr. Rover. If he is—er—missing you had better notify the police,—unless you have some idea where he went to,” continued the broker.

  “I have no idea further than that he came to New York to see you—and that he came here from his hotel.”

  “See here! Do you mean to insinuate that we—er—may know where he is—why he is missing?” demanded Jesse Pelter, sharply.

  “I insinuate nothing, Mr. Pelter. But if you expected him the next day after he was here, and he didn’t come, why didn’t you telephone to him?”

  “I—er—I didn’t know where he was stopping. If I had known, I might have telephoned to him. Although he had a right to stay away from here if he wanted to.”

  “He is transacting quite some business with you, isn’t he?”

  “We have done quite some business together in the past, yes,” answered the broker, coldly.

  “And matters were not going very well, were they?” questioned Dick, sharply.

  “They were going as well as could be expected.”

  “You owed my father a great deal of money, didn’t you?”

  “We did owe him something. But we don’t owe him anything now. We settled up with him in full,” was the reply, which filled Dick with new astonishment.

  CHAPTER XVI

  MORE DISCOVERIES

  “You settled up with him in full?” gasped Rick.

  “Yes—some time ago.”

  “Not for that stock in the Sunset Irrigation Company.”

  “I was not talking about the Irrigation Company. That is another affair. Your father was to see us about that on the morning when he—er—when he failed to come here. I—er—I thought he had gone back home to get certain documents which he stated he did not have with him.”

  “And you haven’t seen or heard of him since?”

  “Not a word, Mr. Rover—I give you my word.”

  “Did he leave any of his papers with you when he was here last?”

  “No.” Jesse Pelter took up the telephone on his desk. “Give me 2345 River!” he said to Central. He turned to Dick. “You will have to excuse me, Mr. Rover, I have some important business to transact.”

  “It isn’t as important as finding my father,”. answered Dick, bluntly.

  “I do not know how I can aid you.”

  “Perhaps you don’t care to try,” returned Dick, pointedly, as he arose.

  “What do you mean?” demanded the broker, and hanging up the telephone receiver, he, too, arose.

  “Never mind what I mean, Mr. Pelter. If you will give me no aid, I’ll find my father alone,” and having thus spoken, Dick marched from the offices, leaving the broker staring after him curiously.

  “Hum! Looks like a smart young man!” murmured Jesse Pelter, to himself. “And I thought Anderson Rover’s boys were all school kids! This lad has grown up fast. I wonder what he’ll do next? I guess I had better keep my eye on him.”

  When Dick reached the street he saw nothing of Sam. He looked up and down, and then walked slowly in the direction of Broadway. On the corner he came to a halt.

  “He must be somewhere around,” he mused. “Perhaps I’d better go back and wait for him.”

  “Dick!” The cry came from Sam, as he arrived on a run. “Did you learn anything?”

  “Not much. But you look excited, Sam. What’s up?”

  “I think I saw Crabtree!”

  “You did! Where? Why didn’t you collar him?”

  “I didn’t get the chance,” returned the youngest Rover, answering the last question first. “It was on the corner below here. I was standing in a doorway, watching up and down, when I saw a tall man come along slowly. He halted at the corner and presently another man came out of the side street and touched him on the arm. The second man wore a heavy beard and a slouch hat and colored eyeglasses, but I am almost sure it was Josiah Crabtree.”

  “Why didn’t you go up and make sure? You could have pulled the beard from his face—if it was false.”

  “Just what I thought. But I decided that first I would listen to what the two men had to say. When I got closer to the pair I made another discovery.

  “What was that.”

  “The first man had a pointed chin and the heaviest pair of eyebrows I ever saw.”

  “What!” ejaculated Dick, and his mind ran back to the jail at Plankville, and to what had been said about the man who had visited Josiah Crabtree. And then he thought of the mysterious automobile and its driver.

  “Yes, I know what you think, Dick—and I think the same—that that man was the one who aided Crabtree to escape from jail,” said Sam.

  “What did the men say, Sam?”

  “I didn’t get a chance to listen. As I was coming up I saw the first man give the second man some money. Then the second man looked up and saw me, and shoving the money into his pocket, he dove across the street and into the crowd. That made me feel sure it was Crabtree, and I ran after him pell-mell. I followed him for about half a blo
ck. But the crowd was too much for me, and he got away. I was going to tell a policeman, but then I thought he couldn’t do any more than I could, and I made up my mind I’d wait for you.”

  “What became of the other fellow—the man with the pointed chin?”

  “I don’t know. He went off somewhere while I was after Crabtree—if it was Crabtree,” answered Sam.

  “Show me which way Crabtree went,” said Dick, and the brothers walked in the direction the fugitive had taken. But, though they spent over an hour in looking for the man, not a trace of him could be found.

  “Well, this proves one thing anyway,” said Dick, as he and Sam started on the return to the hotel. “Crabtree is in league with Pelter, Japson & Company. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t show himself so close to their offices.”

  “Just what I think,” returned his brother. “And another thing, Dick; I think that man with the pointed chin is in with the brokers, too.”

  “More than likely. For all we know he may be one of the firm!” went on Dick suddenly. “Wait, I’ve got an idea. I think I’ll go back to those offices.”

  “And see if the man with the pointed chin is there?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right. Want me to go back, too?”

  “You might hang around as you did before. I don’t know of anything else to do.”

  The boys walked back, and while Sam stationed himself in the street Dick walked into the office building which he had before visited. He was just in time to see a boy come from the elevator, some letters in his hand.

  “Their office boy,” he thought. “Maybe I can get something out of him.”

  He walked up to the youth and nodded pleasantly.

  “You’re the boy from Pelter, Japson & Company, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “Yep,” was the laconic reply.

  “I want to find a man connected with your concern—I don’t know his name,” continued Dick. “He has a pointed chin and very heavy eyebrows.”

  “Oh, you mean Mr. Japson,” said the boy, quickly.

  “Is that Mr. Japson?” repeated Dick, scarcely able to suppress his astonishment.

 

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