Dave Porter on Cave Island: or, A Schoolboy's Mysterious Mission

“And is all that really so?” he asked, at last.

“Every word is absolutely true,” answered Dave.

“Then Nick and Link ought to be in jail!” burst out Nat. “It’s an outrage to let them do such things. Why don’t you have ’em locked up – that is what I’d do!”

“We’ve got to catch them first.”

“Do you mean to say you are trying to do that?”

“We are.”

“Well, you catch ’em, and if you want me to appear against ’em, I’ll do it – and I’ll catch ’em myself if I can.”

There was a pause, and Nat started for the doorway of the freight room. But Ben still barred the way.

“Nat, don’t you think you were rather hasty in accusing Dave?” he asked, bluntly.

“Well – er – maybe I was,” answered the money-lender’s son, growing a bit red.

“Oh, let it pass,” said Dave. “I might have been worked up myself, if I had been in Nat’s place.”

“Here comes the train – we don’t want to miss it,” cried the money-lender’s son, and he showed that he was glad to close the interview. “Remember, if you catch those fellows, I’ll testify against ’em!” he called over his shoulder as he pushed through the doorway.

“The same old Nat, never willing to acknowledge himself in the wrong,” was Ben’s comment, as he and Dave ran for the car steps. The other boy had lost himself in the waiting crowd and got into another car, and they did not see him again until Crumville was reached, and even then he did not speak to them.

The snow was coming down lightly when Dave and Ben alighted, baggage and bundles in hand, for they had not risked checking anything in such a crowd. Ben’s father was on hand to greet him, and close at hand stood the Wadsworth family sleigh, with Laura and Jessie on the rear seat. The driver came to take the suit-case and Dave’s bundle, grinning a welcome as he did so.

“There’s Dave!” cried Jessie, as soon as he appeared. “Isn’t he growing tall!” she added.

“Yes,” answered the sister. “Dave!” she called.

“Here we are again!” he cried with a bright smile, and shook hands. “I brought you a snowstorm for a change.”

“I like snow for Christmas,” answered Jessie. She was blushing, for Dave had given her hand an extra tight squeeze.

“How are the folks?”

“All very well,” answered Laura. “What have you in that big bundle?”

“Oh, that’s a secret, sis,” he returned.

“Christmas presents!” cried the sister. “Jessie, let us open the bundle right away.” And she made a playful reach for it.

“Not to-day – that belongs to Santa Claus!” cried the brother, holding the bundle out of reach. “My, but this town looks good to me!” he added, as he looked around and waved his hand to Mr. Basswood. Then Ben took a moment to run up and greet the girls.

“You must come over, Ben,” said Laura.

“Why, yes, by all means,” added Jessie, and Ben said he would. Then he rejoined his father, and Dave got into the sleigh, being careful to keep his big bundle on his lap, where the girls could not “poke a hole into it to peek,” as he put it. There was a flourish of the whip, and the elegant turnout, with its well-matched black horses, started in the direction of the Wadsworth mansion.

CHAPTER VIII – A MERRY CHRISTMAS

As my old readers know, the Wadsworth family and the Porters all lived together, for when Dave found his folks and brought them to Crumville, the rich jewelry manufacturer and his wife could not bear to think of separating from the boy who had saved their daughter from being burned to death. They loved Dave almost as a son, and it was their proposal that the Porters make the big mansion their home. As Dave’s father was a widower and his brother Dunston was a bachelor, they readily agreed to this, provided they were allowed to share the expenses. With the two families was old Caspar Potts, who spent most of his time in the library, cataloguing the books, keeping track of the magazines, and writing a volume on South American history.

With a merry jingling of the bells, the family sleigh drove into the spacious grounds. As it rounded the driveway and came to a halt at the front piazza the door opened and Dave’s father came out, followed by Dunston Porter.

“Hello, Dad!” cried the son, joyously, and made a flying leap from the sleigh. “How are you?” And then he shook hands with his parent and with his uncle – that same uncle whom he so strongly resembled, – a resemblance that had been the means of bringing the pair together.

“Dave, my son!” said Mr. Porter, as he smiled a welcome.

“Getting bigger every day, Davy!” was Uncle Dunston’s comment. “Before you know it, you’ll be taller than I am!” And he gave his nephew a hand-clasp that made Dave wince.

“Oh, he’s getting awfully tall, I said so as soon as I saw him,” remarked Jessie, as she, too, alighted, followed by Laura. By this time Dave was in the hallway, giving Mrs. Wadsworth a big hug and a kiss. When he had first known her, Dave had been a little afraid of Mrs. Wadsworth, she was such a lady, but now this was past and he treated her as she loved to be treated, just as if he were her son.

“Aren’t you glad I’ve returned to torment you?” he said, as he gave her another squeeze.

“Very glad, Dave, very glad indeed!” she answered, beaming on him. “I don’t mind the way you torment me in the least,” and then she hurried off, to make sure that the dinner ordered in honor of Dave’s home-coming should be properly served.

In the library doorway stood Caspar Potts, his hair now as white as snow. He came forward and laid two trembling white hands in those of Dave.

“Dave, my boy Dave!” he murmured, and his watery eyes fairly glistened.

“Yes, Professor, your boy, always your boy!” answered Dave, readily, for he loved the old instructor from the bottom of his heart. “And how is the history getting on?”

“Fairly well, Dave. I have nine chapters finished.”

“Good! Some day, when it is finished, I’ll find a publisher for you; and then you’ll be famous.”

“I don’t know about that, Dave. But I like to write on the book – and the research work is very pleasant, especially in such pleasant surroundings,” murmured the old gentleman.

Mr. Wadsworth was away at his office, but presently he came back, and greeted Dave warmly, and asked about the school and his chums. Then, as the girls went off to get ready for dinner, the men folks and Dave went into the library.

“Have you heard anything more of those two young rascals, Merwell and Jasniff?” questioned Mr. Porter.

“Yes, but not in the way I’d like,” answered Dave, and told of what Nat Poole had had to say and of what had occurred at Squirrel Island. “Have you heard anything here?” he added.

“Did the girls tell you anything?” asked his father.

“Not a word – they didn’t have a chance, for we didn’t want to talk before Peter.” Peter was the driver of the sleigh.

“I see.” Mr. Porter mused for a moment and looked at Mr. Wadsworth.

“Those good-for-nothing boys have done a number of mean things,” said the jewelry manufacturer. “They have circulated many reports, about you and your family, and about me and my family. They must be very bitter, to act in such a fashion. If I could catch them, I’d like to wring their necks!” And Oliver Wadsworth showed his excitement by pacing up and down the library.

“Did you get your affairs with the department stores fixed up?”

“Yes, but not without considerable trouble.”

“Have Jasniff and Merwell shown themselves in Crumville lately?”

“Yes, three days ago they followed your sister Laura and Jessie to a church fair the girls attended. They acted in such a rude fashion that both of the girls ran all the way home. All of us went out to look for them, but we didn’t find them.”

“Oh, if I had only been at that fair!” murmured Dave.

“What could you have done against two of them?” asked his uncle.

“I don’t know, but I would have made it warm for them – and maybe handed them over to the police.”

“I have cautioned the girls to be on their guard,” said David Porter. “And you must be on your guard, Dave. It is not wise to take chances with such fellows as Jasniff and Merwell.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open for them,” answered the son.

Dave ran up to his room, and put his big bundle away in a corner of the clothing closet. Then he dressed for dinner. As he came out he met Jessie, who stood on the landing with a white carnation in her hand.

“It’s for your buttonhole,” she said. “It’s the largest in the conservatory.” And she adjusted it skillfully. He watched her in silence, and when she had finished he caught her by both hands.

“Jessie, I’m so glad to be back – so glad to be with you again!” he half whispered.

“Are you really, Dave?” she returned, and her eyes were shining like stars.

“You know I am; don’t you?” he pleaded.

“Yes,” she answered, in a low voice. And then, as Laura appeared, she added hastily, but tenderly, “I’m glad, too!”

It was a large and happy gathering around the dining-room table, with Mr. Wadsworth at the head, and Jessie on one side of Dave and Laura on the other. Professor Potts asked the blessing, and then followed an hour of good cheer. In honor of Dave’s home-coming the meal was an elaborate one, and everybody enjoyed it thoroughly. As nobody wished to put a damper on the occasion, nothing was said about their enemies. Dave told some funny stories about Oak Hall happenings, and had the girls shrieking with laughter, and Dunston Porter related a tale or two about his travels, for he still loved to roam as of yore.

The next day – the day before Christmas – it snowed heavily. But the young folks did not mind this and went out several times, to do the last of their shopping. Late in the afternoon, Peter brought in some holly wreaths and a little Christmas tree. The wreaths were placed in the windows, each with a big bow of red ribbon attached, and the tree was decorated with candies and candles and placed on the table in the living-room.

All the young folks had surprises for their parents and for Professor Potts. There was a set of South American maps for the old professor, a new rifle for Dunston Porter, a set of cyclopedias for Mr. Wadsworth, a cane for Dave’s father, and a beautiful chocolate urn for the lady of the house.

“Merry Christmas!” was the cry that went the rounds the next morning, and then such a handshaking and such a gift-giving and receiving! Dave had a new pocketbook for Laura, with her monogram in silver, and a cardcase for Mrs. Wadsworth. For Jessie he had a string of pearls, and numerous gifts for the others in the mansion. From Laura he received a fine book on hunting and camping out, something he had long desired, while Mrs. Wadsworth gave him some silk handkerchiefs. From his father came a new suit-case, one with a traveler’s outfit included, and from his uncle he received some pictures, to hang in his den. Mr. Wadsworth gave him a beautiful stickpin, one he said had been made at his own works.

But the gift Dave prized most of all was a little locket that Jessie gave him for his watchchain. It was of gold, set with tiny diamonds, and his monogram was on the back. The locket opened and had a place in it for two pictures.

“You must put Laura’s picture in there,” said Jessie, “Laura’s and your father’s.”

“No, I have them already – in my watch case,” he answered, and then, as nobody was near, he went on in a whisper, “I want your picture in this, Jessie.”

“Oh!” she murmured.

“Your picture on one side, and a lock of your hair on the other. Without those I won’t consider the gift complete.”

“Oh, Dave, don’t be silly!”

“I’m not silly – I mean it, Jessie. You’ll give them to me, won’t you, before I go back to Oak Hall?”

“Maybe. I’ll see how you behave!” was the answer, and then just as Dave started to catch her by the arm, she ran away to join Laura. But she threw him a smile from over her shoulder that meant a great deal to him.

In the afternoon, Ben came over, with his young lady cousin, and all the young folks went sleigh-riding. The evening was spent at the Wadsworth mansion in playing games and in singing favorite songs. Altogether it was a Christmas to be long remembered.

During the fall Mr. Wadsworth had been busy, building an addition to his jewelry works, and on the day after Christmas Dave went over to the place with his uncle, to look around. The addition covered a plot nearly a hundred feet square and was two stories high.

“It will give us a new office and several new departments,” said the rich manufacturer, as he showed them around. “When everything is finished I shall have one of the most up-to-date jewelry works in this part of the country.”

“Are you going to move the old office furniture into this new place?” asked Dave, noticing some old chairs and desks.

“For the present we’ll have to. The new furniture won’t be here until early in January.”

“What about your safes?” asked Dave. He remembered the big but old-fashioned safes that had adorned the old office.

“We are to have new ones in about sixty days. I wanted them at once, but the safe company was too busy to rush the order. I wish now that I had those safes,” went on the manufacturer, in a lower voice, so that even the clerks near by might not hear.

“Why, anything unusual?” questioned Dunston Porter, curiously.

“I took that order to reset the Carwith diamonds, that’s all.”

“Oh, then you got it, didn’t you?” went on Dave’s uncle. “Were they willing to pay the price?”

“I told them they would have to or I wouldn’t touch the job.”

“What do you suppose the diamonds are worth?”

“They were bought for sixty thousand dollars. At the present value of such gems, I should say at least seventy-five thousand dollars.”

“Phew! And the settings are to cost eight thousand dollars. That makes a pretty valuable lot of jewelry, I’m thinking,” was Dunston Porter’s comment.

“You are right, and that is why I wish I had those new safes,” added Oliver Wadsworth.

“Can’t you keep the diamonds in some safe deposit vault?”

“There is no very good safe deposit place in Crumville. Besides, I must have the gems here, if my workmen are to set them properly. Of course, I’ll keep them in the old safes when they are not in the workshop.”

“I should think you’d want a watchman around with such diamonds in the place,” remarked Dave.

“I have a watchman – old Tony Wells, who is as honest as they make ’em. But, Dave, I don’t want you to mention the diamonds to anybody. The fact that I have this order is being kept a secret,” went on Mr. Wadsworth, anxiously.

“I’ll not say a word to anybody,” answered our hero.

“Don’t do it – for I am anxious enough about the jewels as it is. I shall be glad when the order is finished and the gems are out of my keeping. I don’t want any outsider to know I have them.”

CHAPTER IX – NAT POOLE GETS CAUGHT

In the middle of the week came Phil and Roger, in the midst of another snowstorm that was so heavy it threatened to stall the train in which they arrived. Dave went to the station to meet them.

“Say, what do you think?” burst out Phil, while shaking hands.

“We saw Jasniff and Merwell!” finished the senator’s son.

“You did!” ejaculated Dave. “Where?”

“On our train. We walked through the cars at Melton, to see if we knew anybody aboard, and there were the pair in the smoker, smoking cigarettes, as big as life.”

“Did you speak to them?”

“Didn’t get the chance. The car was crowded, and before we could get to Jasniff and Merwell they saw us, ran down the aisle the other way, and got off.”

“Is that so? Evidently they must know we are on their track,” said Dave, shaking his head gravely.

“I wish we could have collared ’em,” went on the shipowner’s son. “I’d like to punch their heads.”

“Don’t do it, Phil. If you ever catch them, call an officer and have them locked up. A thrashing is wasted on such rascals.”

“Do you know some more about them?” questioned Roger, quickly.

“I do.” And then Dave related what Nat Poole had had to say, and also told about how Laura and Jessie had been scared when attending the church fair.

“You are right, they ought to be locked up,” was Roger’s comment.

“By the way, did you hear the news from Oak Hall?” went on Phil, as they drove off towards the Wadsworth mansion.

“What news?”

“Somehow or other, the storm lifted off two of the skylights from the roof of the main building and the snow got in the garret and there the heat from the chimney must have melted it, for it ran down – the water did – through the floor and loosened the plaster in several of the dormitories, including ours. I understand all of the plaster has got to come down.”

“What a muss!”

“Yes, and it is going to take several weeks to fix it up – they couldn’t get any masons right away.”

“Then where will we sleep when we go back?”

“I don’t know. I understand from Shadow that the doctor was thinking of keeping the school closed until about the first of February.”

“Say, that will give us quite a holiday!” exclaimed Dave.

“For which all of us will be profoundly sorry,” responded Phil, making a sober face and winking one eye.

The girls greeted the newcomers with sincere pleasure.

“What a pity Belle Endicott isn’t here,” sighed Laura.

“So it is,” answered Jessie. “We’ll have to do what we can to make up for her absence.”

Two days later it cleared off, and the young folks enjoyed a long sleigh-ride. Then they went skating, and on New Year’s Eve attended a party given at Ben Basswood’s house. Besides our friends, Ben had invited Sam Day and Buster Beggs, and also a number of girls; and all enjoyed themselves hugely until after midnight. When the clock struck twelve, the boys and girls went outside and tooted horns and rang a big dinner-bell, and wished each other and everybody else “A Happy New Year!”

The celebration on the front piazza was at its height when suddenly came a shower of snowballs from a near street corner. One snowball hit Dave in the shoulder and another landed directly on Jessie’s neck, causing the girl to cry out in mingled pain and alarm.

“Hi! who’s throwing snowballs!” exclaimed Roger, and then came another volley, and he was hit, and also Laura and one of the other girls. At once the girls fled into the house.

“Some rowdies, I suppose,” said Phil. “I’ve half a mind to go after them.”

“We can’t without our hats and coats,” answered Dave.

Just then came another shower of snowballs and Dave was hit again. This was too much for him, and despite the fact that he was bare-headed and wore a fine party suit, he leaped down on the sidewalk and started for the corner. Phil and Roger came after him. Ben rushed into the hallway, to catch up two of his father’s canes and his chums’ hats, and then he followed.

Those who had thrown the snowballs had not dreamed of being attacked, and it was not until Dave was almost on them that they started to run. There were three boys – two rather rough-looking characters. The third was well dressed, in a fur cap and overcoat lined with fur.

“Nat Poole!” cried Dave, when he got close to the well-dressed youth. “So this is your game, eh? Because Ben didn’t see fit to invite you to his party, you think it smart to throw snowballs at the girls!”

As he spoke Dave ran closer and suddenly gave the money-lender’s son a shove that sent him backwards in the snow.

“Hi, you let me alone!” burst out Nat, in alarm. “It ain’t fair to knock me down!”

By this time Dave’s chums had reached the scene, and seeing Nat down they gave their attention to the two others. They saw that they were roughs who hung around the railroad station and the saloons of Crumville. Without waiting, Ben threw a cane to Roger and sailed in, and the senator’s son followed. Both of the roughs received several severe blows and were then glad enough to slink away in the darkness.

When Nat got up he was thoroughly angry. He had hired the roughs to help him and now they had deserted the cause. He glared at Dave.

“You let me alone, Dave Porter!” he cried.

“Not just yet, Nat,” replied our hero, and catching up a handful of loose snow, he forced it down inside of the other’s collar. Then the other lads pitched in, too, and soon Nat found himself down once more and all but covered with snow, which got down his neck, in his ears and nose, and even into his mouth.

“Now then, don’t you dare to throw snowballs at the girls again!” said Dave sternly. “It was a cowardly thing to do, and you know it.”

“If you do it again, we’ll land on you ten times harder than we did just now,” added Ben.

“And don’t you get any more of those roughs to take a hand,” continued Dave. “If you do, they’ll find themselves in the lock-up, and you’ll be there to keep them company.”

“You just wait!” muttered Nat, wrathfully. “I’ll fix you yet – you see if I don’t!” And then he turned and hurried away, but not in the direction his companions had taken. He wanted to escape them if possible, for he had promised each a dollar for aiding him and he was now in no humor to hand over the money. But at another corner the roughs caught up to him and made him pay up, and this added to his disgust.

When Dave and the others got back to the house they were considerably “roughed up,” as Roger expressed it. But they had vanquished the enemy and were correspondingly happy. They found that the girls had not been much hurt, for which everybody was thankful.

“Maybe they’ll lay for you when you go home,” whispered Ben to Dave, when he got the chance.

“I don’t think they will,” answered Dave. “But we’ll be on our guard.”

“Why not take a cane or two with you?”

“We can do that.”

When it came time to go home the girls were somewhat timid, and Jessie said she could telephone for the sleigh. But, as it was a bright, starry night, the boys said they would rather walk, and Laura said the same.

In spite of their watchfulness, the boys were full of fun, and soon had the girls laughing. And if, under those bright stars, Dave said some rather sentimental things to Jessie, for whom he had such a tender regard, who can blame him?

On the day following New Year’s came word from Oak Hall that the school would not open for its next term until the first Monday in February.

“Say, that suits me down to the ground!” cried Phil.

“Well, I’m not shedding any tears,” answered Roger. “I know what I’d like to do – take a trip somewhere.”

“I don’t know where you’d go in this winter weather,” said Dave.

“Oh, some warm climate – Bermuda, or some place like that.”

Another day slipped by, and Dave was asked by his father to go to one of the near-by cities on an errand of importance. He had to go to a lawyer’s office and to several banks, and the errand took all day. For company he took Roger with him, and the boys did not get back to Crumville until about eleven o’clock at night.

“Guess they thought we weren’t coming at all,” said Dave, when he found no sleigh awaiting him. “Well, we can walk.”

“Of course we can walk,” answered the senator’s son. “I’ll be glad to stretch my legs after such a long ride.”

“Let us take a short cut,” went on Dave, as they left the depot. “I know a path that leads almost directly to our place.”

“All right, if the snow isn’t too deep, Dave.”

“It can’t be deep on the path, for many of the men who work at the Wadsworth jewelry place use it. It runs right past the Wadsworth works.”

“Go ahead then.”

They took to the path, which led past the freight depot and then along a high board fence. They turned a corner of the fence, and crossed a vacant lot, and then came up to one corner of the jewelry works, at a point where the new addition was located.

“Now, here we are at the works,” said Dave. “It’s not very much further to the house.”

“Pretty quiet around here, this time of night,” remarked Roger, as he paused to catch his breath, for they had been walking fast. “There doesn’t seem to be a soul in sight.”

“There is usually a watchman around, old Tony Wells, an army veteran. I suppose he is inside somewhere.”

“There’s his lantern!” cried the senator’s son, as a flash of light shone from one of the windows. Hardly had he spoken when the light disappeared, leaving the building as black as before.

“It must be a lonely job, guarding such a place,” said our hero, as he and his chum resumed their walk. “But I suppose it suits Tony Wells, and he is glad to get the money it brings in.”