“Say, Dick, this is fierce!” exclaimed Tom. “What are we going to do about it?”
“I don’t know yet,” was the slow reply. “I can’t understand why father didn’t mention this investment to me.”
“He must have felt so sick that he forgot all about it. You don’t imagine that there is anything wrong about it?”
“Oh, no! I guess it is all straight enough. Aronson must know that he couldn’t get any such money out of us unless everything was as straight as a string.”
“Perhaps Mr. Powell could get the twenty thousand dollars for us.”
“Maybe he could. But that isn’t the point, Tom. I told you before that we want to ‘stand on our own bottom.’ Besides, it isn’t a fair thing to ask any one to put up money like that without offering good security.”
“But we don’t want to lose the fifteen thousand dollars that father has already invested.”
“I know that, too. It’s a miserable affair all around, isn’t it?” And Dick sighed deeply.
When Sam came back from his errand he brought news that under ordinary circumstances would have interested his brothers very much.
“I was coming through Union Square Park when whom should I see on one of the benches but Josiah Crabtree!” he exclaimed.
“Crabtree!” cried Tom. “Then he must be out of the hospital at last! How did he look?”
“He looked very pale and thin, and he had a pair of crutches with him,” answered Sam. “I didn’t see him walk, but I suppose he must limp pretty badly, or he wouldn’t have had the crutches.”
“Did you speak to him?” questioned Dick.
“No. At first I thought I would do so, but he looked so down-and-out that I didn’t have the heart to say anything and perhaps make him feel worse.”
“Do you suppose he has any money?” asked Tom.
“He didn’t look as if he had. But you never can tell with such fellows as Crabtree—he was a good deal of a miser.”
“What a misspent life his has been!” was Dick’s comment. “I am mighty glad that he didn’t get the chance to marry Mrs. Stanhope.”
“Right you are, Dick!” returned Tom. “He’d make a hard kind of a father-in-law to swallow!”
It did not take long for Dick and Tom to acquaint Sam with the new money problem that confronted them, and the youngest Rover became equally worried over the situation.
“I think we had better write to Uncle Randolph and see if he can find out a little about this land company affair from father without, of course, worrying him too much,” suggested Dick. “There may be some loophole out of this trouble—although I am afraid there isn’t.”
“All right, we’ll do it,” said Tom, and the letter was written at once, and sent to Dexter’s Corners with a special delivery stamp attached.
On the following afternoon when Tom and Sam got back to the hotel, a surprise awaited them. Going up to the suite occupied by Dick and Dora, the brothers found themselves confronted by Nellie and Grace.
“Oh, Tom!” was all Nellie could say. And then coming straight forward she threw herself into his arms and burst into tears.
“Now—now, don’t go on this way, Nellie,” he stammered, not knowing what to say. “It’s all right. They’ve got the ring and you are cleared. What’s the use of crying about it now?”
“Oh, but—but I can’t help it!” sobbed the girl. “You don’t know how I have suffered! I couldn’t sleep nights, or anything! Oh, Tom! it was grand—the way you got that gardener to confess;” and she clung to him tighter than ever.
“And to think he put the ring in the inkwell!” cried Grace. “What a ridiculous thing to do!”
“He must have done it on the spur of the moment,” said Sam. “But say, I’m mighty glad that affair is cleared up!” he added, his face beaming.
Then all of the young folks sat down, and the story had to be told once more in all of its details.
“I just had to come on! I couldn’t stay home after I got the telegram and the letter,” explained Nellie, “so I sent a telegram to Dora.”
“We planned to surprise you,” put in Grace.
“And it is a surprise, and a nice one,” returned Sam. Soon Dick, who had been somewhat detained, came in, and then there was more excitement.
“Well, what about accommodations for the girls?” asked Dick, who never forgot the practical side of matters.
“Oh, that is all arranged, Dick,” answered his wife. “I have a room for them, and as your wife I am to be their chaperon;” and she smiled brightly as she passed her hand over his forehead. “Poor boy, with so much to do!” she added, affectionately.
It was a happy gathering, and for the time being the Rover boys did their best to forget their troubles. They had a somewhat elaborate dinner, and then Tom and Sam took the newcomers out for a walk up “The Great White Way.” Dick said he would remain at the hotel with his wife, as he wanted to write some letters.
“Might as well let them have their fling,” he said, after the others had departed. “That’s the way we wanted it before we were married;” and he gave his wife a hug and a kiss.
Of course the girls from Cedarville had a great deal to tell, and Tom and Sam had a great deal to relate in return. The two couples strolled on and on, and it was near eleven o’clock before they returned to the Outlook Hotel.
“And so you are going to be a real business man, are you, Tom?” said Nellie, during the course of the walk.
“I am going to try to be, Nellie,” he answered. “Of course it is something of a job for a fellow who is full of fun to settle down. I need help.” And he looked at her wistfully.
“Oh, Tom, if you would only settle your mind—”
“There’s no use in talking, Nellie, I won’t be able to settle down in the really-and-truly fashion until I am married,” retorted the fun-loving Rover. “You have got to be the one to settle me.”
“Tom Rover, if you talk like that I’ll box your ears!”
“All right, anything you say goes, Nellie. Only tell me, aren’t we going to be married some time this Fall or Winter?”
“Tom!”
“Well, aren’t we?”
“Oh, maybe. But you come on! We are out for a walk, and here we are standing stock-still in the middle of the sidewalk with folks all around us. Come on! If you don’t come I will leave you;” and Nellie started on, dragging Tom with her.
CHAPTER XXVII
THE MYSTERY OF THE SAFE
Dick was at his desk sorting out his morning mail. He was rather downcast, for the past two days had brought no news regarding the missing bonds. On the other hand, he had received word from his uncle that the investment in the Sharon Valley Land Company was a perfectly legitimate one, and that Mr. Aronson’s claim would have to be met.
“And how we are going to meet it, I don’t know,” said Dick, in speaking of the matter to his brothers. “It certainly is tough luck to have these obligations pouring in on us at just this time.”
“Well, there is one bright spot in uncle’s letter,” returned Sam. “He says dad is feeling somewhat better. I am mighty glad of that.”
“I guess we all are,” broke in Tom. “Just the same, I agree with Dick. The financial outlook is mighty gloomy.”
There were other letters besides business communications for the boys. Songbird had written, and so had Spud; and Dick had likewise a long epistle from Bart Conners, who in years gone by had been the young major of the Putnam Hall cadets. But just now Dick had no heart to read these communications. He felt that he must give his entire attention to the business in hand. One letter in a plain envelope was in a handwriting entirely unfamiliar to him. He cut open the envelope hastily to see what it might contain. A glance at the single sheet inside, and his face showed his interest.
“Look at this, boys!” he cried; and then read th
e following:
“‘Look over your safe very carefully. You may discover something to your advantage.’”
There was no signature.
“Who sent that?” came from Sam and Tom simultaneously.
“I don’t know. It isn’t signed.”
“‘Look over your safe very carefully. You may discover something to your advantage,’” repeated Tom. “Say! that looks as if somebody knew something about the robbery!” he went on, excitedly.
“We have looked over the safe a dozen times,” returned Sam. “It hasn’t furnished the slightest clew.”
“We’ll go over it again,” broke in Dick, who had already left his desk and gone to the strong-box. He worked at the combination for a few moments, and pulled open the safe door.
“Maybe we ought to have a light here,” suggested Tom. “It is rather dark in this corner.”
“Wait, I can fix that,” said Sam, and reaching for a droplight that hung over the desk, the youngest Rover commenced to unfasten the wire by which it was held in position. By this means he was able to shift the light so that it hung directly over the opening of the strong-box.
“Nothing unusual about the door or the combination that I can see,” said Tom, after all had made a careful inspection.
“And the sides seem to be all right,” added Sam. “Maybe it’s the back or the bottom.”
“If it wasn’t so heavy we might be able to swing the safe around away from the wall,” said Dick. “But wait, hold that light closer, Tom, and I’ll see if I can find out anything from the inside.”
Dick was now on his knees and feeling around the back of the safe with his hand. Presently he found a crack, and inserting his fingers he gave a push. Much to his astonishment a portion of the safe back slid upward.
“Hello, I’ve found something!” he ejaculated. “There is a hole in the back of this safe!”
“You don’t say so!” cried Sam; and he and Tom peered into the steel box.
Then Dick continued to work around with his hand, and presently was able to slide another section of the safe back upward. He now found that he could touch a piece of board which evidently took the place of some plaster that had formed part of the office wall.
“There must be a small trap door there, leading to some place outside,” said the oldest Rover boy. “We’ll go into the hall and have a look.”
It did not take the eager youths long to reach the hallway of the building, and once there, all three hurried to the spot where they thought the opening might be located. Soon they came to the little closet which the janitor had once mentioned to them—a small place in which was located a sink, and also a number of brooms, brushes, and cleaning cloths.
The closet was dark, but Dick had brought along a box of matches, and a light was quickly made. A corner containing some brooms and cloths was cleaned out, and the boys soon located a piece of board about eight inches square, covered with a sheet of tin painted the same color as the wall.
“It’s as plain as daylight!” cried Tom. “The thief didn’t have to open the safe door at all. He simply came in here, removed that board, slid up the back section of the safe, and took out what he wanted.”
“And the fellow who did it—” broke in Sam.
“Was either Pelter or Japson,” finished Dick.
“Then you think this letter came from—” Tom started to say.
“That young fellow whose life you saved—Barton Pelter,” answered Dick.
“By the rudder to Noah’s Ark, I think you are right!” burst out Tom. “Why, it’s as plain as the nose on your face! Don’t you remember how worried Barton Pelter looked when we told him the bonds were missing, and how he asked us at the moving picture show if we had gotten them back yet? More than likely he knew how this safe was fixed—he used to come here, you know, to see his uncle—”
“I believe you’re right, Tom,” came from Sam, “because if he didn’t do it, who did?”
“I think I can make sure of this,” returned Tom. “Let us go back to the offices.”
Tom had taken possession of one of the desks in the place, and in one of the pigeonholes he had placed a number of letters, including the one received while at college from Jesse Pelter’s nephew. This he now brought forth, and compared the handwriting with that of the letter just received.
“It’s the same hand,” he affirmed. And after an examination the brothers agreed with him.
“If Barton Pelter wrote that letter we ought to locate him without delay,” was Sam’s comment. “He may know just where the missing bonds are.”
“Or else where we can locate his uncle and Japson.”
“Wait a minute!” cried Dick. “You forget that Japson has been away from New York for some time. The detective told me that, and said it was positive. So that would seem to put the thing off on Pelter’s shoulders; and I think Pelter is just the man to do such a thing. You’ll remember how bitter he was against us when we exposed him.”
“Then let us locate Jesse Pelter without delay,” broke in Tom. “It ought to be easy, unless he is in hiding.”
“If he’s got our bonds he’ll certainly do his best to keep out of our way,” returned Dick, grimly. “I think the best we can do first of all is to locate Barton Pelter and make him tell us all he knows.”
“He said he had a chance of a position as a traveling salesman.”
“Did he say for whom?”
“He mentioned ‘The Consolidated Cream Cracker Company,’ whatever that is.”
“Let us call them up and find out,” said Dick.
By consulting the telephone directory, the boys were soon in communication with the cracker company in question. They were informed that Barton Pelter had been taken on as a salesman the day before, and had left that evening for a trip through the Middle West. It was not known on what train he had departed.
“Nothing doing here,” said Tom. “They don’t even seem to know what town he is going to stop at first.”
“I think we had better call up Mr. Bronson, and tell him about this and put him on the trail of the Pelters,” answered Dick.
The detective was as astonished as the boys had been when he saw the hole in the back of the safe.
“This is certainly one on me,” he confessed, frankly. “I looked that safe over very carefully, too. I should have discovered that;” and his face showed his chagrin.
Then he was told about the Pelters and about Japson, and he agreed with the Rovers that he had best try to locate Barton Pelter and his uncle without delay.
“I’ll put a man on the trail of the young fellow who went West,” he said, “and as soon as he sends me any word regarding Jesse Pelter I’ll go after that fellow, and I’ll also let you know what I’m doing;” and so it was arranged.
CHAPTER XXVIII
JOSIAH CRABTREE ONCE MORE
When the boys arrived at the hotel that evening the girls had much to tell them. Nellie had received a letter from Miss Harrow, in which the teacher had frankly begged her pardon for having suspected the girl of taking the diamond ring.
“It is a lovely letter,” said Nellie. “I never thought that she could humble herself in that fashion.”
“I’ve got an idea; in fact, I’ve had it for some time,” came from Tom. “I had Royce in this afternoon to see me. He is very anxious to get work. I’ve half a notion to ask you to write to Miss Harrow and see if they won’t take the fellow back at the seminary.”
“I am willing to write such a letter, Tom,” answered the girl. “And if they won’t take Royce back, perhaps I can get my father to give him work at our farm; although I know he is more of a gardener than he is a farmer.”
But the most important news the two girls and Dick’s wife had to tell was that on a shopping tour after lunch they had walked into Josiah Crabtree.
“We came face to
face with him in front of a show window,” explained Dick’s wife. “I was so startled for the minute that I did not know what to say. Oh, Dick! he was on crutches, and he did look so pale and thin I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him!”
“He has evidently suffered a great deal,” put in Grace. “In fact, he said as much. He seemed to be utterly downcast. He didn’t look like the dictatorial teacher he used to be at all.”
“What did he have to say?” questioned Sam.
“Oh, he was quite confused at first, but he did ask about Dora’s mother—if she was well—and then he said he understood that you three were going into business together. He said he hoped you would be successful.”
“The idea of old Crabtree saying that!” burst out Tom. “It’s enough to make a fellow think the end of the world is coming.”
“Did he say what he was doing, or what he proposes to do?” questioned Dick.
“He said he had received a tentative offer of a position in a boys’ school in Maine,” answered Nellie, “but he did not know whether he was going to take it or not. My idea is that he is too poor to even go to Maine. And he had on such an old, rusty, black suit!”
“Say! Did he say where he was stopping?” questioned Dick, eagerly, struck by a sudden idea.
“No, he did not.”
“Too bad! I’d like to see him as soon as possible.”
“Why, what’s up now, Dick?” questioned Sam.
“I want to ask him if he knows anything about Jesse Pelter—where the fellow has gone to.”
“It isn’t likely. I don’t think those two parted the best of friends.”
“Most likely not. Still Crabtree may know where Pelter keeps himself.”
“I’ll tell you what you might do, Dick,” suggested Tom. “You might send Crabtree a couple of letters, one addressed to the General Delivery here, and another simply addressed to New York City; then you’ll run two chances of striking him.”
“I’ll do that,” answered the older brother; and sent off the communications without delay. In each of them he asked Josiah Crabtree to call at his offices as soon as possible.
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