The Missing Tin Box: or, The Stolen Railroad Bonds

"I know it looks black against me, but perhaps I can clear myself," went on the youth.

"Yes, you can," sneered Ferris. "Look here," he pointed to the inkstands and the pens. "Aunt Amanda, do you know who those things belong to?"

"Who?"

"They belong to Sumner, Allen & Co.," replied Ferris, triumphantly.

"You are sure?" asked Saunders.

"I am, unless Carson will stick out for it that the firm gave them to him," returned Ferris.

"Is that so?" questioned Mrs. Ricket.

"They were not given to me," replied Hal, promptly. "But I know who brought them into the house."

"Who?"

"Your nephew, Mrs. Ricket. I am sorry for you, but I am telling the truth."

"Dick a thief!"

"See here, do you know what you are saying?" blustered Ferris, taken aback by this statement.

"I do."

"I won't have you talking to me in this fashion."

"Then you had better own up to what you have done," replied Hal, calmly.

"How could I get the things?" demanded Ferris. "The firm knows they were there after I left."

"I know they do," returned Hal, significantly. "And they know more than that."

Dick Ferris grew almost white at these last words. He seemed about to say something in return, but suddenly changed his mind.

"Carson, this is a serious matter," said Saunders. "I hate to say much about it, but the stuff has been found here, and I don't see how I can do otherwise than look to you for that fourteen dollars."

"Mr. Saunders, I didn't take the things, and I don't know anything about your money."

"Easy enough to say, but – " and Saunders finished with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Of course, I can't prove what I say, but I can give you my word of honor that I am telling the truth."

"That's all very well, but it doesn't restore my money, which I can't afford to lose," replied Saunders, sharply.

Hal looked around in perplexity. What was he to do?

"I can't believe you guilty," said Mrs. Ricket. "But if you have the money you had better return it."

"Of course, he's got the money," put in Ferris, who had somewhat recovered from the effects of Hal's last words to him.

Hal picked up the newspaper which had been around the box and crumpled it nervously. Suddenly a peculiar look lit up his features.

"I guess I had better send for a policeman," said Saunders, after a moment of silence.

"Just wait a moment," said Hal.

"What for?"

"I wish to ask a few questions."

"Better see that he doesn't escape," suggested Ferris.

"Let that remark apply to Ferris as well as myself," said Hal.

Saunders walked to the door, and locked it, putting the key in his pocket.

"When did you miss your things?" asked Hal.

"About an hour ago."

"At five o'clock?"

"A little before. I got off early to visit my uncle in Nyack. But I can't go without my money."

"Were you home to dinner?"

"Yes."

"Did Dick Ferris come home?"

"No."

"When did your nephew come home?" asked Hal, turning to Mrs. Ricket.

"Don't answer him, aunt," cried Ferris. He was beginning to get alarmed again.

"What harm will it do?" questioned the woman. "If you are innocent, Dick, it won't matter."

"He wants to get me into trouble."

"Please answer my question," said Hal, decidedly.

"Dick came home about two o'clock."

"Has he been home ever since?"

"I believe so."

"Now, Mrs. Ricket, where were you all the afternoon?"

"Me?"

"Yes."

"I hope you don't suspect me!" cried the landlady, in alarm.

"No, I do not. But please answer me."

"After dinner I cleaned all the halls from top to bottom, and then saw to it that Katie cleaned the front stoop and the windows."

"Then you were in the halls and around the front door most of the time?"

"I was."

"Did I come in at any time during the afternoon?"

"I didn't see you?"

"Wouldn't you have seen me if I had?"

"I suppose I would," admitted the woman.

"What does all this talk amount to?" put in Ferris.

"Shut up!" cried Hal, sharply. "I am not addressing you."

He turned to Saunders.

"You hear what Mrs. Ricket says. I was not here to steal your things."

"Humph! They might have been stolen this morning!" exclaimed Ferris.

"Or last night," added Saunders. "The last I saw of the cuff-buttons was last night, and the pocket-book yesterday noon."

"I don't see how that can be possible," replied Hal, quietly.

"It's easy enough," exclaimed Ferris. "Just because I was home during the afternoon, and you were not, doesn't prove that you didn't take the things."

"No, that doesn't, but something else does," replied Hal.

"What?"

"This newspaper, which was wrapped around the box."

At these words Ferris grew white, and trembled from head to foot.

"What about the paper?" asked Saunders, curiously.

"It is an afternoon paper, dated to-day. It could not possibly have been put around the box before one o'clock this afternoon."

CHAPTER XII.

HAL IN A FEARFUL SITUATION

Every one in the room was surprised at Hal Carson's unexpected statement.

"Let me see the paper!" cried Saunders.

Hal handed it over, and the dry-goods clerk scanned it eagerly.

"You are right," he muttered, and shook his head.

"That can't be the same paper that was around the box," put in Dick Ferris, very red in the face.

"It certainly is," replied Hal.

"Yes, I saw Carson pick it up from the spot where I threw it," returned Saunders. "This puts a new face on the matter," he added, with a sharp look at Ferris.

Mrs. Ricket also looked at her nephew.

"Dick, come here," she commanded.

"What do you want?" he demanded, doggedly.

"I want you to return Mr. Saunders' fourteen dollars."

"I haven't got it."

"I know better."

"What, Aunt Amanda, are you going back on me, too?" cried Ferris, in a pretended reproachful tone.

"I tried to believe all along against my better judgment that you were innocent," said the landlady. "But I can't believe it any longer, and when you try to throw the blame on somebody who is innocent, I've got to speak my mind." Mrs. Ricket's voice began to grow stern. "Give up the money, and ask Mr. Saunders to forgive you before he sends for a policeman and has you arrested."

This was a long speech for Mrs. Ricket, and she almost gasped for breath after she had finished.

Dick Ferris' face grew black as he listened to the words.

"You're a nice aunt to me!" he stormed. "Just wait till I tell dad about it when he comes home next time."

But now Saunders had the fellow by the collar.

"Which is it, the money or the station-house?" he asked, shortly.

Dick Ferris looked into the determined black eyes, and then his courage oozed away.

"Will you promise not to do anything, if I give you fourteen dollars?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Then here you are." He brought forth his pocket-book, and took out a roll of bills. "I didn't take your money, but it's no fun to be hauled up."

"Why, Dick, where did you get so much money?" cried Mrs. Ricket, in amazement.

"I earned it," replied the fellow, coolly. "Here you are, Saunders. Now, unlock the door and let me out."

Saunders took the fourteen dollars, counted them over, and then did as requested. Without another word Ferris hurried out and down the stairs.

"I hope you are satisfied," said Hal, to the dry-goods clerk.

"I am sorry I suspected you," returned Saunders. "What a mean dog Ferris is."

"He is down on me because I am filling the position he was discharged from," explained Hal.

"Unless he takes a turn for the better I shall tell him to leave the house," cried Mrs. Ricket, trying to dry away her tears. "Ever since he came, two years ago, he has been a torment to me. I only keep him for my poor dead sister's sake."

"How about this stuff?" questioned Saunders, pointing to the inkstands and the boxes of pens.

"I shall return them to Sumner, Allen & Co."

"Queer how that boy got hold of those things," said Mrs. Ricket.

Hal pretended not to hear the remark, and a moment later Saunders and the landlady left the room.

"So that was the plot against me," muttered Hal, as he fixed up to go to supper. "I wonder what Hardwick will say when he hears how it turned out?"

The youth was compelled to smile to himself. The book-keeper would, no doubt, be very angry.

"It was lucky I looked at the newspaper," Hal went on. "It was that saved me, and nothing else. Ferris overreached himself. I wish I could gain such an important point in that bond matter. It would be a great feather in my cap to recover the tin box and its contents."

A little later Hal went down to supper. Ferris did not appear, and nothing was said about the recent happening upstairs.

"Please keep it quiet," whispered Mrs. Ricket to him, as he was about to leave the room. "It will only hurt my reputation to say anything."

The next morning, when Hal arrived at the office, he found Mr. Sumner already there. This was most unusual, and the youth could not help but show his surprise.

The elderly broker was pouring over the books, but as soon as Hal appeared he put them away.

Hal had the inkstands and the pens in his overcoat pocket, and he at once handed them over, much to Mr. Sumner's astonishment.

"Where did they come from?" he asked.

"I will explain later," replied Hal. "Please put them out of sight now, for Mr. Hardwick is coming, and I wish he wouldn't see them."

Mr. Sumner promptly swept the things into his desk, and began to write a letter.

When the book-keeper entered he was astonished to see Hal at work cleaning up. He had fully expected that the youth would be arrested for the robbery at Mrs. Ricket's, and that Hal was now in jail.

Then he looked back and saw Mr. Sumner at his desk, and his astonishment increased.

"Why, really, Mr. Sumner – " he began.

"I'm early this morning, eh?" returned the broker. "Well, I wanted to get this correspondence off my hands, and I seem to be able to do better work early in the morning."

"You are a hard worker," commented Hardwick, and that was all he said.

When Hal was dusting near the rear Mr. Sumner looked up to see that the book-keeper was not noticing, and then motioned to the youth.

"Don't say anything about my being at the books," whispered the broker, in a low tone.

Hal nodded; and then he went on as if nothing had been said. But the words set him to thinking deeply.

At the end of an hour Mr. Sumner arose.

"I am going out for a couple of hours," he said. "If Mr. Allen comes in tell him to let that Wabash matter rest until to-morrow."

"I will," replied Hardwick.

"You may continue on that copying, Carson," went on the broker. "Mr. Hardwick will direct you."

"Yes, sir," replied the youth.

Mr. Sumner quitted the place, and hurried up the street.

Dick Ferris stood on the opposite side near the corner. He then waved his hand to Hardwick.

The book-keeper at once put on his hat and coat, and went out. Hal did not see the man join Ferris.

Hal did his best to concentrate his thoughts upon his work, but found it almost impossible to do so.

A half-hour dragged by slowly.

Then the door burst open, and Hardwick rushed in. He was pale and terribly excited. Rushing up to Hal he caught the youth roughly by the arm.

"See here, I want to have a talk with you!" he cried.

"What about?" asked Hal, as coolly as he could.

"You know well enough, you miserable sneak!" hissed Hardwick. "Tell me at once all you know."

"Know about what?" asked Hal, trying to stand his ground.

Hardwick glared at him for an instant. He seemed to be in a fearful rage. Suddenly he caught Hal by the throat with one hand, and picked up a heavy brass-bound ruler with the other.

"Now, Carson, are you going to speak up or not?" he demanded.

CHAPTER XIII.

HAL SHOWS HIS METTLE

Hal understood perfectly well that a crisis had come. Hardwick had him by the throat, and unless he acceded to the book-keeper's demand he would be in immediate danger of being choked to death.

"Let – let go of me," he gasped.

"Not until you do as I say," replied Hardwick. "I want you to understand that you can't get the best of me."

Hal tried to push Hardwick away, but the book-keeper made a pass at him with the heavy ruler.

"Keep quiet, if you value your head!" roared Hardwick.

"Let me go!"

"Not until you have told me what you mean by your doings."

"What doings?"

"Your doings up to Mrs. Ricket's."

"Who told you about what happened up there?"

"Never mind; I know all about it."

"Then Ferris saw you last night."

"No, he didn't."

"Or this morning."

"Shut up. You implicated me."

"Did Dick Ferris say I did?" asked Hal.

"Never mind who said so. I want to know what you mean by such work?"

Hal did not reply. He was trying to think. What was Ferris' object in telling Hardwick he had been mentioned in connection with the matter?

Clearly there could be but one reason. Ferris knew Hardwick already disliked Hal, and he wished to put the book-keeper against the youth, so as to get Hal into more difficulties.

"Do you hear me?" demanded Hardwick, giving Hal an extra squeeze on the throat.

"I do," gulped Hal. "Let – go – of me."

"Not until you have answered."

Hal commenced to struggle. Seeing this, Hardwick tried to strike him with the ruler, which, on account of its brass-bound edge, was an ugly weapon. The ruler came down twice, the second time cutting a gash on the youth's neck, from which the blood flowed copiously.

This last blow aroused all the lion in Hal's nature. As the reader knows, he was a well-built boy, and strong for his age. He gave a sudden wrench and broke away.

"Stand back!" he cried. "Don't you dare to touch me again!"

Hardwick glanced toward the door, to see that no one was coming.

"I'll show you!" he hissed, passionately.

He rushed at Hal again. The youth saw him coming, and, drawing back his arm, he planted a blow on Hardwick's nose that sent the blood spurting in all directions.

Hardwick was more surprised than hurt. Had that poor house chap dared to hit him? He turned first red and then white.

"I'll fix you!" he cried.

"Stand back, I tell you!" commanded Hal; he was getting excited himself.

But Hardwick would not stand back, and, as a consequence, he received a blow on the forehead that almost stunned him.

"You beggar, you've got muscle, haven't you?" he cried. "We'll try a different method with you."

He ran toward his desk, and opened it. An instant later Hal saw a revolver in his hand.

"Now we will see who is on top here," said Hardwick.

It would be useless to deny that Hal was frightened at the sight of the shining barrel. He backed several feet.

"I thought that would bring you to terms," said Hardwick. "Now, will you answer my question?"

"You will not dare to shoot me," returned the youth, as calmly as he could.

"Don't be too sure. I intend that you shall answer me."

Hal looked about him. He had backed toward the rear of the office. The window was unlocked. Could he leap through it?

Hardwick followed the youth's look and understood it.

"No, you don't," he said, and, moving toward the window, he locked it.

The only way that now remained to escape was by the street door. Hardwick placed himself in front of this.

"Give me the key to this door," he demanded.

The key hung on a nail close to where Hal was standing.

Instead of complying, Hal took down the key, and placed it in his pocket.

"Did you hear me?" went on the book-keeper.

"I did."

"You are playing with fire, young man."

"Am I?"

"You are. You think I haven't nerve enough to go ahead, but you'll find out your mistake. I'll give you just ten seconds in which to hand me that key."

Hal made no reply.

"Did you hear?"

"I did."

"Are you going to mind?"

"No."

Hardwick aimed the pistol at Hal's head. Whether or not he would have fired cannot be told, for at that instant the door opened, and Mr. Sumner stepped in.

"I forgot my – " he began, and then stopped short in amazement.

"Mr. Sumner!" cried Hal. "I am glad you have come."

"What is the meaning of this?" gasped the elderly broker.

He looked at Hardwick and then at the pistol.

The book-keeper dropped back, unable for the moment to say a word.

"He intended to shoot me," said Hal.

"That is a falsehood!" exclaimed Hardwick.

"It's the truth," retorted the youth.

"No such thing! The young tramp pulled this pistol, and I just snatched it away from him."

Hal was amazed at this deliberate falsehood. Mr. Sumner turned to him.

"Did you have that pistol first?" he asked.

"No, sir."

"I say he did," put in Hardwick.

"I never owned a pistol," added Hal.

"Then he must have stolen it," sneered Hardwick. "I tell you, Mr. Sumner, he is a bad egg, and he ought to be discharged."

"Perhaps," responded the elderly broker, dryly. "Just hand the weapon to me."

Hardwick did so, and Mr. Sumner examined it.

"Do you carry such a weapon?" he asked, shortly.

"No, sir."

"Don't own one, I presume?"

"I must say I do not."

"Humph! So you say Carson drew it on you?"

"He did."

"Mr. Sumner – " began Hal.

"Stop, Carson, until I get through with Mr. Hardwick. What was the cause of this quarrel?"

"The boy got impudent, and I threatened to report him and have him discharged."

"Is that all?"

"Yes. He is an unmannerly dog."

"I didn't think so when I hired him."

"He is, Mr. Sumner."

The elderly broker examined the pistol again.

"I wish you would explain one thing to me, Mr. Hardwick," he said slowly.

"What is that, sir?"

"It is this: If you do not own a pistol how does it happen that I saw this very weapon in your desk over a week ago?"

The book-keeper started back and changed color.

"What – what do you mean?" he faltered.

"Just what I say. About a week ago I had occasion to go to your desk for a certain paper, and I saw this very weapon lying in one corner."

"There – there must be some mistake."

"None, sir. This is your pistol, and I believe you pulled it upon this boy."

Hal's face beamed. The cloud that had gathered so suddenly seemed to be breaking away.

"Why should I draw it on the young cub?" growled Hardwick, not knowing exactly what to say.

"Because you have a spite against Carson, and you wish to get him into trouble. I used to think you a fair and square man, Hardwick, but I find I am mistaken."

CHAPTER XIV.

HAL EXPRESSED HIS OPINION

The perspiration was standing out upon Mr. Sumner's forehead. He took out his handkerchief and mopped himself. Hardwick shot an angry glance at him.

"I don't see what you find so interesting in the boy," he muttered.

"I am interested in him because he saved my life."

"Saved your life?"

"Exactly. It is true that he came from the poor-house, but he is a young hero, and I will not have him imposed on, especially when he is doing his best to get along."

"Well, every one to his taste," returned Hardwick.

"I want none of your impudence," cried the broker. "You were not as much of a man as this boy when I took you in, eight years ago."

"Thanks," returned Hardwick, coolly. "Perhaps you would just as soon I would quit your service?"

"I would."

"Then I will quit on the first of the year."

"You will quit to-day, and without recommendations."

"Without recommendations!"

"Yes. Let me tell you something. All last evening and this morning early I spent the time examining your books. I find you have made false entries, how many I do not know, and that you are a defaulter in the sum of several thousands of dollars."

Hal was almost as much surprised at Mr. Sumner's statement as Hardwick.

"You – have – examined – the – books?" said the book-keeper, slowly.

"I have."

Hardwick breathed hard. It was a terrible blow Mr. Sumner had dealt him. He had supposed his little crooked actions in the office well hidden from prying eyes.

"You may have to prove what you say," he exclaimed, haughtily.

"I can easily do so," returned Mr. Sumner, coolly. "Shall I send for an officer to take charge of you in the meanwhile?"

At the mention of an officer, Hardwick grew white, and his lips trembled.

"N-no!" he cried. "There must be some mistake."

"There is no mistake whatever. Do you deny that you have appropriated the bank funds of the firm – "

"Mr. Allen gave me the right to – "

"Mr. Allen had no rights, as you are aware. Our partnership is a limited one, and I shall settle with Mr. Allen later."

"You can't hold me accountable for that money."

"I can, but I won't, for I imagine the greater part of it has been spent. How much have you in your pocket now?"

"Sir!"

"You heard my question; answer me."

"I will not! I'm no fool!"

"Very well. Hal, will you call a policeman?"

Hal started for the door. Hardwick caught him by the arm, and shoved him back.

"Stay here! There is my pocket-book."

"Hal, you may remain." Mr. Sumner took the pocket-book and counted the money in it. "A hundred and eighty dollars," he went on. "Have you any more with you?"

"No."

"Is that a genuine diamond you are wearing?"

"Yes."

"What is it worth?"

"It cost seventy-five dollars."

"Then listen to me; I have found out that you are a pretty high liver, Hardwick, and you have probably squandered nearly all of what you have stolen – "

"Look here, I – "

"Stop, or Hal shall go at once for the officer. Now, what I propose to do is this: I will keep this money and that pin and the one hundred and twenty-five dollars of salary coming to you and let the matter drop, so far as that crookedness in the books is concerned."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then Hal shall go for an officer, and you can stand trial."

Hardwick muttered something under his breath, not at all complimentary to his employer. He felt that he was in a tight place.

"There is no alternative?" he asked.

"None."

"And you will let this matter rest?"

"Yes. I wish to give you a chance to turn over a new leaf, if there is any turn over in you."

Hardwick hesitated for a moment.

"I accept," he said, doggedly.

"Very well, hand over the pin."

The diamond scarf pin was transferred to the broker's hand.

"Here is your pocket-book and ten dollars. I don't wish to see you go away without a cent."

"Keep the money; you might as well rob me of all of it," exclaimed Hardwick. He reached for his hat and coat. "You will rue this day, Horace Sumner; mark my word for it. And you, you young tramp!" – Hardwick turned to Hal – "I will get square, and don't you forget it."

He went out, slamming the door behind him. Hal watched him from the window, and saw him turn down Broad Street.

Mr. Sumner gave a long sigh.

"I am glad I am rid of that man," he said.

"So am I," responded Hal. "He is a worse villain than you think, Mr. Sumner."

The elderly broker smiled faintly.

"You still think him connected with the disappearance of the tin box, I suppose."

"I do."

"The police are almost certain they are on the right track of the criminal. I cannot give you the details, but the party is not Hardwick."

"The police don't know everything. Hardwick is thoroughly bad, and he is in league with Dick Ferris and Mr. Allen."

"You speak very positively, Hal."

"Because I know what I am speaking about, sir."

"You say Hardwick is in with Dick Ferris?"

"Yes, sir."

"How do you know?"

"Because they formed a plot to have me arrested. But that is not the worst of it. Hardwick made an attempt on my life because I followed him."

"Is it possible?" Mr. Sumner was now thoroughly interested. "Why did you not tell me of this before?"

"Because I wished to follow out the matter on my own hook, and, besides, I am almost a stranger to you, and you might think I was making up a yarn."