The Erie Train Boy

"Where do you come from?"

"I live in New York too."

"I'd like to see New York. I'd go there if my father would let me."

"I am not sure but you are better off here. Some boys have a hard time making a living in New York."

"I thought everybody in New York was rich."

"If you ever come to New York you'll find out your mistake," rejoined Fred, laughing.

"If you ain't a friend of Mr. Bowman, as you call him," said the boy, lowering his vice, "I'll tell you something."

"I wish you would. Mr. Bowman is not a friend of mine, but there is no one else to keep company with, so I go round with him."

"I know where he has hidden his money."

"Is this true?" asked Fred in excitement.

"Yes."

"But how did you find out?"

"One day I followed him. I dodged behind trees and kept out of sight. Once he came near seeing me when he looked back, but I was just in time. By and by he came to the place."

"What sort of a place?"

"Did I say I would tell you?" asked the boy shrewdly.

"No, but I will make it worth your while."

The boy eyed Fred with suspicion, and his manner became cold.

"Do you want to rob him?" he asked.

"No."

"Then why do you want to know where he has hid his money?"

Fred deliberated hurriedly. There was no way except to take the boy into his confidence.

"I see you are an honest boy," he said, "and I like you better for it."

"That's all right, but why do you want me to tell you where Mr. Bowman has hidden his money?"

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Is there a secret?"

"Yes; the package which this man has hidden contains bonds which he stole from a New York banker."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I am sent to get them back, if possible. That is why I have come to St. Victor, and that is why I have formed the acquaintance of Mr. Bowman."

"Is this true?" asked the boy, not wholly without suspicion.

"Listen and I will tell you the story. I must be quick, for Mr. Bowman may be back any minute."

"There he is now."

"Meet me to-morrow at ten in the morning just back of the place where you were sitting when I took you on board the boat, and I will tell you all. In the name of Mr. Wainwright I will agree to pay you a hundred dollars, if by your help I recover the bonds."

"It's a bargain!" said the boy, his eyes sparkling.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

SUCCESS!

"Who is that boy?" asked Bowman carelessly, as he re-entered the boat.

"I don't know. He asked me to take him for a little row, and I was glad to have him for company."

"I have been taking a stroll through the woods. In fact, I was brought up in the woods," said Bowman with a laugh.

Fred understood that he was trying to give a plausible explanation of his absence.

"I like the woods myself," he rejoined. "Do they extend far?"

"Not very far. I enjoyed my stroll in among the trees, even barren as they are now of leaves, very much. It brought back to my mind my schoolboy days."

Bowman seemed in quite good spirits. Evidently he had found that his secret hiding-place had not been discovered.

"How much longer are you going to stay in St. Victor?" he asked after a pause.

"I don't know," answered Fred slowly. "I may take a fancy to go away any day."

"I wish I could go too. I am tired of this place."

"I suppose you are waiting for Mr. Sinclair to recover."

"Yes," answered Bowman, but there was hesitation in his tone.

A sudden suspicion entered Fred's mind. Was Bowman meditating giving his confederate the slip, and deserting him, taking the bonds with him? Had he perhaps taken the package from its hiding-place and got it concealed about his person? A careful scrutiny satisfied Fred that this was not the case. But it was quite possible that he would make another visit the next day, and remove the bonds then.

"I must lose no time," he thought, "or I shall lose my opportunity."

They reached the hotel in time for dinner.

"What are you going to do this afternoon?" asked Bowman.

"I haven't thought particularly," answered Fred indifferently.

"Suppose we play poker? The landlord has a pack of cards."

"I don't know the game."

"It won't take long to learn. I will show you how it is played."

"I don't care for cards. I may call on Mr. Sinclair."

Bowman shrugged his shoulders.

"You must enjoy his society," he said.

"I don't go there for enjoyment. My visit may cheer the poor man."

"All right! I'll see if the landlord isn't going to drive somewhere."

"I hope he is," thought Fred. "It will get Bowman out of the way."

About half-past two Bowman entered the public room where Fred was reading.

"I'm going for a drive," he announced. "I'll see you at supper."

"Very well!"

Fred waited till Bowman drove out of the yard, and then, taking his gun, went off himself. But he did not turn his steps in the direction of Sinclair's cottage. He had ascertained that there was a way of going by land to that part of the woods where he had met his young companion of the morning. He had made up his mind to repair to the spot now on the chance of finding the boy, and securing the bonds that very afternoon. He felt that there was no time to be lost.

It would have been easier and shorter to take the boat, and the landlord would have made no objection. But some one might see him out on the lake, and this would excite Bowman's suspicions, especially when he discovered that the bonds were missing. So Fred chose the land route as the wiser one to take under the circumstances.

The distance was quite two miles, but Fred did not mind that. The prize for which he was striving was too great for him to shrink from such a trifle as that.

He reached the other side of the pond, but no one was in sight. He walked about anxiously looking here and there.

"I hope I shall not have my walk for nothing," he said to himself.

But luck was in his favor. Walking at random he all at once heard a boy's whistle. He quickened his steps, and almost directly, to his great delight, he recognized, sauntering along, the very lad he had taken out in the boat in the morning.

"Hallo, there!" he cried.

The boy turned quickly.

"Oh, it's you, is it?"

"Yes."

"I thought you were to meet me to-morrow morning."

"So I was, but I did not dare to wait. I think Bowman will get the bonds to-morrow, and make a bolt of it."

"Then what do you propose to do?"

"I want you to get the package for me to-day."

"Do you think I will get into any trouble?" asked the boy cautiously.

"It won't be stealing, will it?"

"It would be if the bonds were Bowman's, but they are not. They belong to a rich banker in New York, as I have already told you, and in showing me where they are you are aiding justice."

"Will I get the hundred dollars, sure?"

"Yes, I will guarantee that. What is your name?"

"John Parton."

"I will take it down. As soon as I get back to New York I will see that the money is sent you."

"I'll chance it," said the boy. "You look honest, and I believe you."

"Go on, then, and I will follow you."

John led the way into the thickest part of the wood. He paused in front of a large tree, partly gone to decay. The trunk was hollow, containing a large cavity.

"The package is there," he said.

"Get it for me," returned Fred, "and there your task will end. I will undertake the rest."

In less than five minutes the package was placed in Fred's hands.

He opened his vest and placed it inside, carefully pinning it to the waistcoat, so that it might not slip down.

"It will be awkward to carry," he said, "on account of its size. I wish it were safe in Mr. Wainwright's possession."

Then a new idea came to him.

"Is there any express office near here?" he asked.

"The nearest is at Hyacinth, five or six miles away."

"I should like to go there. Do you know where I can hire a team?"

"We are not using ours to-day," said John.

"Then," said Fred promptly, "I will hire it, paying any price your father considers satisfactory, and I will engage you to drive me over. You know the way?"

"I've been there hundreds of times."

"Then it is all right. Do you think we can have the team? I'll pay two dollars for that, and a dollar for your services as driver."

"It's a go! Come right along! Our house is less than half a mile away."

Then the two boys emerged from the woods, and made their way to a comfortable farmhouse, situated in the midst of fertile fields. John went into the house, and presently came out with his mother.

"Are you the young man that wants to go to Hyacinth?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well, I don't know of any objection. Don't stay too long."

"I'll be back in time for supper, mother."

"Did your mother ask you what I was going for?" asked Fred.

"No; I told her you wanted to take a ride."

"That will answer. I wish there was enough snow left for sleighing."

The horse was quickly harnessed to an open buggy, and the two boys got in. John took the reins, and turned out of the yard. Soon they were speeding over the road that led to Hyacinth. It was a pleasant drive, but Fred was too much occupied by thoughts of what he carried to pay much attention to the scenery.

At length they turned into the principal street of Hyacinth.

The express office was just across the way from the railway depot.

Fred entered and inquired, "How soon will a package start for New York?"

"In about an hour."

"As it is valuable, I will get you to put it up securely, and seal it."

"Very well."

The agent wrapped it up in some thick brown paper, gave it to Fred to direct, and then laid it carefully away.

"Do you wish to insure it?" he asked. "What is the value?"

"I will insure it for five hundred dollars."

Fred knew that this would secure extra care, and he did not care to name the real worth lest it might tempt some employee to dishonesty.

"Now," he said, as they left the office, "I feel easy in my mind."

But when the boys were half way home, they overtook another buggy, containing two occupants. One of them was the landlord of the Lion Inn, the other was Paul Bowman.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

BOWMAN'S PANIC

Paul Bowman, who was driving, the landlord having given up the reins to him, checked the horse and hailed Fred in evident surprise.

"Where have you been?" he inquired abruptly.

"I have been to ride," answered Fred, with an appearance of unconcern.

"I thought you were going to call on Sinclair."

"So I was, but after you left I decided to take a walk in another direction. I met John, and engaged him to take me to drive."

"Are you going home now?"

"Yes, I think so. Can you take me to the hotel, John?"

"Yes," answered his companion readily.

"Then we will follow along behind Mr. Bowman."

Of course there could be no private conversation, so John and he spoke on indifferent topics. When they reached the hotel Fred jumped from the buggy.

"Good-by, John," he said. "You will hear from me soon," he added in a significant tone.

Then he joined Bowman, who was wholly unsuspicious of the disaster that had befallen him.

"I should like to go over to Sinclair's," thought Fred, "but I suppose Bowman will expect me to keep him company."

But in this he was agreeably disappointed.

At seven o'clock the landlord drove round, and Bowman sprang into the buggy.

"Sorry to leave you, Fred," he said, "but we are going to Vaudry on a little business. Hope you won't be lonely."

"Never mind me, Mr. Bowman. I think I will go over to see Mr. Sinclair. He will probably expect me. Have you any message?"

Bowman looked significantly at the landlord.

"Tell him I will call to-morrow or next day," he said. "At present I am very busy."

The two drove away, leaving Fred and a stable boy named Jack looking after them.

"He's going to skip to-morrow," said Jack confidentially.

"Who?"

"Mr. Bowman."

"How do you know?" asked Fred in excitement.

"I heard him say so to the boss. He doesn't want you to know it."

"Why not?"

"He is afraid you will tell his partner, the sick man."

Fred whistled.

"That is news," he said. "I suspected it might be so, but didn't know for sure."

"Shall you tell Mr. Sinclair?"

"Yes, I think I ought to do so."

"That's so! He's a nicer man than old Bowman."

Fred, immersed in thought, walked over to the cottage. James Sinclair received him with evident joy.

"I expected you this afternoon," he said. "The hours seemed very long."

"I was employed on very important business," said Fred significantly.

"You don't mean – "

"I mean," said Fred, bending over and whispering in the sick man's ear, "that I have found the bonds."

"Where are they?"

"On the way to New York, by express."

"What a burden off my heart!" ejaculated Sinclair fervently. "Tell me about it," he added, after a pause.

Fred did so.

"Now," he added, "there will be nothing to prevent your coming to New York and taking your old place."

"I think I shall recover now," responded Sinclair. "Your news makes me feel fifty per cent. better."

"I have more news for you."

"What is it?"

"Bowman is planning to leave St. Victor to-morrow, without a word to you. He means to leave you in the lurch."

"He can go now. I shall be glad to part with him – and forever."

"That is his intention, but when he finds the bonds have disappeared, I don't know what he may decide to do."

"When do you mean to start for New York?"

"I would start to-night if I could."

"You can. There is a train which passes through St. Victor at ten o'clock this evening. But, no, on second thought it goes to Ottawa."

"I don't care where it goes. I don't wish to remain in St. Victor any longer than is absolutely necessary. Besides, if Bowman suspects and follows me he will be likely to think I have gone in a different direction."

"I am sorry to have you go, Mr. Fenton."

"We shall meet again soon, I hope in New York."

Fred reached the inn at nine o'clock, left the amount of his bill in an envelope with the boy Jack, and walked over to the station, where he purchased a ticket for Ottawa. While he was in the depot building Bowman and the landlord drove by. Before they had reached the inn the train came up and Fred entered the rear car.

He breathed a sigh of relief as the cars quickened their speed and St.

Victor faded in the distance.

Meanwhile Bowman and the landlord reached the hotel. Jack, the stable-boy, came forward and took charge of the team.

"Here is a letter for you, Mr. Bluff," he said.

"A letter!" repeated the landlord, with a look of wonder. He opened it and uttered a cry of surprise.

"The boy's gone!" he ejaculated.

"What boy?" asked Bowman, not suspecting the truth.

"Young Fenton."

"Gone away! What do you mean?"

"Read that."

He passed the note to Bowman, who read as follows:

DEAR SIR: – I am called away on business. I enclose the amount due you. If it is not right I will communicate with you as soon as I have reached New York. Remember me to Mr. Bowman.

FRED FENTON.

"Called away on business!" repeated Bowman suspiciously. "That is queer. What did the boy say?" he asked of Jack. "When did he first speak of going away?"

"I think he made up his mind sudden, sir."

"Did he say where he was going?"

"He said he was goin' back to New York."

"Received a summons from his employer, I suppose."

"Very likely, sir."

"Do you know if he went to see Mr. Sinclair?"

"Yes, sir. He went fust part of the evenin'."

"Then Sinclair can tell me about it."

"Very likely, sir."

Not daring to take Jack too deeply into his confidence, Fred had told him that he was going to New York, which was true, or would be very shortly.

"If he had waited till to-morrow we might have gone together," thought Bowman, "at least a part of the way. It will be some time before I shall dare to set foot in New York."

Bowman went to bed with a vague feeling of uneasiness for which he could not account. He felt that it would be impossible for him to remain in the dull little village any longer. Should he, or should he not, go to see Sinclair before he went away? On the whole he resolved to secure the bonds first, and then decide.

The next day after breakfast he strolled down to the lake, got out the boat, and rowed rapidly toward the farther shore. There was no time to waste now. He tied the boat to a sapling growing close to the bank, and struck into the woods.

He made his way at once to the tree which he had used as a safe deposit vault, and with perfect confidence thrust in his hand. But the package which his fingers sought for seemed to have slipped out of reach. He continued his search anxiously, with increasing alarm, but in vain.

A terrible fear assailed him. He peered in through the cavity, but neither sight nor touch availed. Gradually the terrible thought was confirmed – the parcel had been stolen! Thirteen thousand five hundred dollars, nearly the entire proceeds of his crime, had vanished – but where?

He staggered to a stump close by, and sitting down, buried his face in his hands. What was he to do? He had but twenty-five dollars left.

"Who can have taken it?" he asked himself with feverish agitation.

He rose and made his way mechanically back to the boat.

An hour later he staggered into the little cottage occupied by his sick partner. His hair was disheveled, his manner wild.

"What is the matter, Bowman?" asked Sinclair.

"We are ruined!" said Bowman in a hollow voice. "The bonds are gone!"

"When did you miss them?" asked Sinclair quickly.

"To-day. They were safe yesterday. Do you think it was the boy?"

"What could he know of the bonds? Did you ever speak to him about them?"

"Of course not. What shall I do?"

"Inquire whether any one has been seen near the place where you hid them. Do your best to recover them."

This advice struck Bowman favorably. He devoted the remainder of the day to the inquiry, but learned nothing. There was no further occasion to remain in St. Victor. He left the inn in the evening, forgetting to pay his reckoning.

CHAPTER XXXV.

FRED'S REWARD

John Wainwright, the wealthy banker, sat in his office looking over the letters that had come by the morning mail. Some of them he turned over to his confidential clerk to answer. Others, more important, he reserved to reply to with his own hand.

"Busy, Wainwright?" asked a gentleman, Arthur Henderson, entering without ceremony.

"I always have something in hand, but I have time enough for an old friend."

"By the way, have you heard anything of the bonds you lost some time since?"

"I know where they are."

"You do?"

"Yes, they are in Canada."

Henderson laughed.

"That means that you will never get them back."

"I don't know. I have sent a messenger to recover them."

"Who is it?"

"My office boy."

Henderson stared.

"I suppose that is a joke."

"By no means."

"What is the age of your office boy?"

"I should judge from his appearance that he is sixteen."

"Do you mean to say that you have intrusted a boy of sixteen with so important a commission?"

"I do."

"Really, Wainwright, I don't like to criticise, but it appears to me that you have taken leave of your senses."

The banker laughed good-humoredly.

"Perhaps I ought not to be surprised at that."

"Then you acknowledge your lack of wisdom?"

"By no means. What I have done I would do again."

"Couldn't you find a more suitable messenger?"

"Not readily."

"It would have been worth while to go yourself, as the amount is considerable."

"That would never have answered. I should be recognized, and excite suspicion."

"Do you really expect that boy to recover the bonds?"

"I think it possible, at any rate."

"Suppose he does, what is to hinder his keeping them himself?"

"His honesty."

"Pardon me, Wainwright, but I have had a pretty extensive experience, and I would be willing to wager ten to one that you will never see your bonds again."

"I never bet, and hold that betting is no argument. But I too have had some experience of men and consider my chance of recovering the stolen property fairly good."

"How long since your messenger started on his expedition?"

"About two weeks."

"Have you heard from him?"

"Yes, once. There are reasons why it is imprudent for him to write too often."

Henderson smiled significantly.

"I dare say he is having a good time at your expense. What was the amount of your loss?"

"About fifteen thousand dollars."

"Since you won't bet, I will make you a proposal. If the boy recovers your bonds and restores them to you I will offer him a place in my own counting-room at twenty dollars a week."

"I don't think in that case I should be willing to lose his services. I would pay him as much as he could get elsewhere."

"There is very little chance of my being called upon to redeem my promise."

At that moment an express messenger entered the office.

"Here is a parcel for you, sir," he said.

It was a small package wrapped in brown paper, carefully tied and sealed.

John Wainwright paid the express charges, receipted for the package, and then eagerly opened it.

It was the same package which Fred had expressed from Hyacinth.

The banker's eyes were full of triumph.

"What do you say to that, my friend?" he asked.

"What is it?"

"The missing bonds. Nothing could have happened more apropos."

"You don't mean to say – "

"Listen. Let me read you this letter from the messenger you thought me foolish in sending to Canada."

Here is a copy of Fred's letter.

JOHN WAINWRIGHT, ESQ.

MY DEAR SIR: I have at length recovered the bonds which were stolen from you, and send them by express herewith. I have not time to go into details, but will only say that I found them in a hollow tree. I secured them in the nick of time, for I have reason to think that to-morrow they would have been removed by Bowman, who has got tired of St. Victor, and will probably leave the neighborhood to-morrow. I do not dare to keep the bonds in my possession, as I may be followed, but consider it safer to express them to you at once. I shall go back to New York by a roundabout way, but shall probably arrive very nearly as soon as the package.

Yours respectfully,

FRED FENTON.

P. S. The money and U. S. bonds have been used, but you will find $13,500 in other securities in this package. They would have been spent too, but the holder found it impossible to negotiate them.

"There, Henderson, what do you think of that?" asked Mr. Wainwright, in a quiet tone of triumph. "I was a fool, was I, to trust this boy?"

"I don't know what to say, but my offer holds good. If you will release the boy I will take him into my employment at twenty dollars a week."

"I will give him as much as he can get elsewhere," repeated the banker.

There was a quick step heard outside, and Fred Fenton entered the office.

"Good morning, Mr. Wainwright," he said. "Did you receive the package?"

"It just reached me, Fred. Shake hands, my boy. You have justified my confidence in you."

"I did my best, sir."

"Tell me all about it. My curiosity is excited."

Fred gave a rapid account of his adventures in search of the missing bonds. It was listened to with equal interest by the banker and his friend.

"Wainwright, introduce me," said Henderson abruptly.

"Fred," said the banker smiling, "let me make you acquainted with my friend, Arthur Henderson. He is a commission merchant. He may have a proposal to make to you."

"Young man, if you will enter my employment I will pay you twenty dollars a week," said merchant.

Fred looked amazed.

"That is a great deal more than I am worth," said.

"Then you accept?"

Fred looked wistfully at Mr. Wainwright.

"I should not like to leave Mr. Wainwright," he said.