Dave Porter on Cave Island; Or, A Schoolboy's Mysterious Mission

CHAPTER X—WHAT HAPPENED AT THE JEWELRY WORKS

“Never mind—I’ll come down and put it in the safe,” answered Mr. Porter. “By the way,” he went on, “what was that strange noise I just heard?”

“That is what we were wondering,” said Roger. “It sounded like a blast of dynamite to me.”

“Maybe something blew up at the powder works at Fenwood,” suggested Dave. The works in question were fifteen miles away.

“If it did, we’ll hear about it in the morning,” returned Mr. Porter, as he took the package Dave gave him and disappeared into the library, turning on the electric light as he did so.

The boys went upstairs and started to undress. Phil had been asleep, but roused up at their entrance. The boys occupied a large chamber, with two double beds in it, for they loved to be together, as at school.

“Listen to that!” cried Dave, as he was unlacing a shoe.

“It’s the telephone downstairs!” cried Phil. “My, but it’s ringing to beat the band!” he added, as the bell continued to sound its call.

The boys heard Mr. Porter leave the library and go to the telephone, which was on a table in an alcove. He took down the receiver.

“Yes! yes!” the boys heard him say. Then followed a pause. “You don’t mean it! When, just now? Was that the noise we heard? Where did they go to? Wait, I’ll call Mr. Wadsworth. What’s that? Hurry!” Then followed another pause. “Cut off!” they heard Mr. Porter mutter.

“Something is wrong!” murmured Dave.

Mr. Porter came bounding up the stairs two steps at a time. Dave and the other boys met him in the hallway.

“What is it, Dad?” asked the son.

“Robbers—at the jewelry works!” panted David Porter. “I must notify Mr. Wadsworth!” And he ran to a near-by door and pounded on it.

“What is it?” came sleepily from the rich manufacturer. He had heard nothing of the telephone call, being down deep in the covers because of the cold.

“Mr. Wadsworth, get up, get up instantly!” cried Mr. Porter. “You are wanted at the jewelry works. I just got something of a message from your watchman. Some robbers have blown open your safes and they attacked the man, but he got away long enough to telephone. But then they attacked him again, while he was talking to me! We’ll have to get down there at once!”

“Roger, did you hear that?” gasped Dave. “That’s the noise we heard!”

“Yes, and they attacked the watchman,” responded the senator’s son.

“I’m going back there,” went on Dave. “The others will have to stop and dress. Maybe we can catch those rascals.”

“Yes, and save the watchman, Dave!”

By this time Mr. Wadsworth had appeared, in a bath-robe, and Dunston Porter also showed himself. Dave slipped on his shoe again and fairly threw himself into his coat, and Roger also rearranged his toilet.

“Wait—I’ll go with you!” cried Phil.

“Can’t wait, Phil—every second is precious!” answered our hero. “You can follow with the men.”

“Take the gun, or a pistol—you may need it,” urged the shipowner’s son, as he started to dress.

In a corner stood Dave’s double-barreled shotgun, loaded. He took it up. Roger looked around the room, saw a baseball bat in another corner, and took that. Then the boys ran out into the hallway, where the electric lights were now turned on full. The whole house was in a hubbub.

“We are dressed and we’ll go right down to the works,” said Dave. “I heard what father said, Mr. Wadsworth. We’ll help Tony Wells, if we can.” And before anybody could stop him, he was out of the house, with Roger at his heels.

“Be careful, Dave!” shouted his uncle after him. “Those robbers may be desperate characters.”

“All right, Uncle Dunston, I’ll watch out.”

“If you chance to see a policeman, take him along. I’ll come as soon as I can get some clothing on.”

Tired though they were, the two boys ran all the distance to the jewelry works. When they got there they found everything as dark and as silent as before. They had met nobody.

“How are you going to get in?” asked Roger, as they came to a halt before the main door.

Dave tried the door, to find it locked. “Let us walk around. The thieves may be in hiding somewhere,” he suggested.

They made the circuit of the works, once falling into a hole filled with snow. Nothing unusual met their eyes, and each gazed questioningly at the other.

“It can’t be a joke, can it?” suggested Roger. “Nat Poole might——”

“No, I’m sure it was no joke,” broke in our hero. “Wait, I’ll try that little side-door. I think that is the one the watchman generally uses.”

He ran to the door in question and pushed upon it. It gave way, and with caution he entered the building. All was so dark he could see absolutely nothing.

“I guess we’ll have to make a light,” he said, as his chum followed him. “Wait till I see if I have some matches.”

“Here are some,” answered Roger. “Wait, I’ll strike a light. You keep hold of that gun—and be ready to use it, if you have to!”

The senator’s son struck one of the matches and held it aloft. By its faint rays the boys were able to see some distance into the workshop into which the doorway opened. Only machines and work-benches met their gaze. On a nail hung a lantern.

“We’ll light this,” said Dave, taking the lantern down. “You can carry it, and I’ll keep the gun handy.”

With lantern and gun held out before them, and with their hearts beating wildly, the two youths walked cautiously through the workshop. They had to pass through two rooms before they reached the entrance to the offices. The light cast curious shadows on the walls and the machinery, and more than once the lads fancied they saw something moving. But each alarm proved false.

“Why not call the watchman?” suggested Roger, just before entering the offices.

They raised their voices and then raised them again. But no answer came back.

“Would he telephone from the office?” asked the senator’s son.

“I suppose so—although there is another ’phone in the shipping-room.”

The boys had now entered one of the new offices. Just beyond was the old office, with the two old safes, standing side by side.

“Look!” cried Roger, in dismay.

There was no need to utter the cry, for Dave was himself staring at the scene before him. The old office was in dire confusion, chairs and desks being cast in various directions. All of the windows were broken out and through these the chill night air was entering.

But what interested the boys most of all was the appearance of the two old safes. The door to each had been blown asunder and lay in a twisted mass on the floor. On top of the doors lay a number of boxes and drawers that belonged in the safes. Mingling with the wreckage were pieces of gold and silver plate, and also gold and silver knives, forks, and spoons.

“Here is where that explosion came from,” said Dave. “What a pity it didn’t happen when we were in front of the works! We might have caught the rascals red-handed!”

“Listen! I hear somebody now!” exclaimed Roger. “Maybe they are coming back.”

“No, that is my father who is calling!” replied our hero. “I’ll let him in.”

He ran to the office door, and finding a key in the lock, opened it. Roger swung the lantern, and soon Dave’s father and his uncle came up, followed by Mr. Wadsworth, who, being somewhat portly, could not run so fast, and had to be assisted by Phil.

“What have they done?” gasped the manufacturer. “Tell me quickly! Did they blow open the safes?” He was so agitated that he could scarcely speak.

The boys did not reply, for there was no need. Mr. Wadsworth gave one look and then sank down on a desk, too overcome to make another move.

“Did you see anything of the robbers, Dave?” asked his father.

“Not a thing.”

“And where is the watchman?”

“I don’t know.”

“Strange, he must be somewhere around. He told me of the robbery and then he said that they were coming after him. Then the message was suddenly cut off.”

“It looks like foul play to me,” said Dunston Porter, seriously. “We had better light up and investigate thoroughly.”

He walked to a switchboard on the wall and began to experiment. Presently the electric lights in the offices flashed up and then some of those in the workshops were turned on.

By this time Oliver Wadsworth was in front of one of the shattered safes. An inner door, somewhat bent, was swung shut. With trembling fingers the manufacturer pulled the door open and felt into the compartment beyond.

“Gone! gone!” the others heard him mutter hoarsely. “Gone!”

“What is it?” asked Mr. Porter.

“The casket—the Carwith casket is gone!” And Mr. Wadsworth looked ready to faint as he spoke.

“Were the jewels in it?” questioned Mr. Porter.

“Yes! yes!”

“All of them?” queried Dave.

“Yes, every one. I placed them in the casket myself before we locked up for the day.”

“Maybe the casket is on the floor, under the doors,” suggested Dave; but he had little hope of such being the case.

All started a search, lasting for several minutes. But it was useless, the casket with its precious jewelry had disappeared. Oliver Wadsworth tottered to a chair that Phil placed for him and sank heavily upon it.

“Gone!” he muttered, in a strained voice. “Gone! And if I cannot recover it, I shall be ruined!”

CHAPTER XI—LOOKING FOR THE ROBBERS

“We must get busy and see if we cannot follow the robbers!” cried David Porter. “No use in wasting time here now. Let us scatter in all directions. One can go to the railroad station and the others to the roads leading out of town. We may pick up some clew.”

“The police, we’ll have to notify them!” said Roger.

“Yes! yes! Call the police up on the telephone!” ejaculated Mr. Wadsworth, starting to his feet.

Dave ran to the end of the office, where a telephone rested on a stand. The shock of the explosion had severed the wires.

“It’s out of commission,” he said. “I’ll have to use the one in the shipping-room.”

He left the offices, and made his way through two of the workrooms. Phil went with him and so did Roger.

“This will be a terrible blow for Mr. Wadsworth,” was the comment of the shipowner’s son.

“He said if he didn’t get the jewels back it would ruin him,” added Roger.

“Oh, we must get them back!” cried Dave. “Why, they are worth a fortune!”

In the shipping-room all was dark, and the boys had to first light a match and then turn on the electric illumination. The telephone was near by.

“Ruined!” cried our hero, as he beheld the wrenched-away receiver and transmitter.

“Here is where they must have caught the watchman while he was telephoning to Mr. Wadsworth!” said Phil.

“That must be it, Phil. We’ll have to go to the police station, or find another telephone.”

The boys rushed back to the offices and told of what they had discovered. Then Phil and Roger volunteered to run to the police station, over a quarter of a mile away.

“If you’ll do that, I’ll go to the railroad station,” said Dave. “I may be able to pick up some clew. The twelve-fifteen train is almost due and those rascals may try to board it. If I see anybody that looks suspicious, I’ll have him detained.”

“Don’t get into trouble!” called his father after him.

“I’ll try to take care of myself, Dad,” he answered.

Dave ran the whole distance to the depot. As he went along he kept his eyes wide open for a possible appearance of the robbers, peering down side-streets and alleyways, and into vacant lots. But he saw nobody until close to the station and then he received a sudden hail from in front of a coal office.

“Hi, you! Where are you going in such a hurry?” And a man in a dark blue uniform stepped into view, night-stick in hand.

“Just the man I want to see!” cried our hero. “I guess you know me, Mr. Anderson. Come on down to the depot, quick! We must get there before the train comes in!”

“Why, it’s Dave Porter!” exclaimed the policeman. “What’s the row, Dave?”

“Mr. Wadsworth’s jewelry works has been robbed. They have just gone to notify headquarters. I thought maybe the robbers might try to get away on the train. We want to stop any suspicious characters.”

“The jewelry works robbed? You don’t say! All right, I’ll go right along. Hope we can catch ’em!” And Officer Anderson swung up beside Dave, and both continued on a dog-trot to the depot.

Nobody but the station master was in sight. Dave and the policeman thought it best to keep out of sight.

“You stay at one end and I’ll stay at the other,” said the officer. “If you see anybody suspicious, whistle twice and I’ll come on the double-quick.”

At last they heard the train coming. Nobody had appeared, but presently Dave caught sight of a burly figure sneaking beside several empty freight cars on a side-track. He gave the signal for aid and then sneaked after the man. By this time the train had rolled into the little station.

Only a well-known young man of Crumville alighted, accompanied by an elderly lady, his mother. There were no passengers to get aboard, and the conductor swung his lantern for the engineer to go ahead again.

At that moment the burly fellow near the freight cars made a dive for the trucks of a baggage car, with the evident intention of stealing a ride. He had almost reached the trucks when Dave came up behind him and hauled him back.

“Not so fast!” said our hero, firmly. “I want to talk to you.”

“Hey, you let me alone!” growled the burly fellow. He was ragged and unshaven and evidently a tramp.

“Where did you come from?” went on Dave, and he continued to hold the man, while the train moved off.

“Wot business is that o’ yours?” was the sulky return. “Wot did yer make me miss that train for?”

“You’ll find out in a minute or two,” answered our hero, and just then Officer Anderson came running up.

“Got somebody, have you?” he panted.

“I guess he is only a tramp,” was Dave’s reply. “But we may as well hold him and see what he has got to say.”

“It’s Applejack Joe,” said the policeman, as he eyed the prisoner. “We warned him out of town this morning. What was he going to do, steal a ride?”

“I think so. I caught him making for the trucks of a baggage car.”

“That’s Joe’s favorite way of riding,” chuckled the policeman.

“I can’t see why that young feller had to stop me,” growled the tramp. “You folks wants me to git out, an’ when I start yer hold me back.”

“Why didn’t you go this morning, if you were told to go?” asked Dave.

“Say, I don’t move as swift as some folks. Wot’s the use? Take yer time, is my motter.”

“Where have you been for the last three or four hours?” asked the policeman.

“Where have I been? It won’t do you no good to know, cap’n.”

“Well, you tell us, just the same,” said Dave. “I want to know if you have seen any other men sneaking around town to-night. If you have, it may pay you to tell me about it.”

“Provided we can land on those other chaps,” put in the officer.

“Oh, I see; somethin’ wrong, hey?” And the tramp leered unpleasantly. “Want to pull me into it, mebbe.”

“You are pulled in already,” answered Officer Anderson.

“Oh, don’t arrest me, an’ I’ll tell you everything I know!” pleaded Applejack Joe. He had once been in the Crumville jail in winter and found it very cold and uninviting, and he wanted no more of it.

“What do you know?” questioned Dave. “Answer quick. There has been a big robbery here, and if you can help us to catch the men maybe you’ll get a reward.”

“Reward? Say, I’m your huckleberry, young man. Wot do I know?” The tramp rubbed his unshaven chin. “Yes, that’s them, I’m sure of it,” he murmured, half to himself.

“Who?” demanded Dave, impatiently.

“Them two fellers I see down at Casterbury’s stock-farm this afternoon. They had a bag wot looked suspicious to me, an’, say; did they use dynamite, or somethin’ like that?”

“They did!”

“Then that’s them! Cos why? Cos when they walked past where I was hidin’, I heard one of ’em say, ‘Be careful o’ that, we don’t want it to go off an’ git blowed up.’”

“Two men?” came from the policeman. “Did you know them?”

The tramp shook his head.

“Never set eyes on ’em before. But I see ’em after that, down back of that jewelry works over there,” and he threw up his hand in the direction of Mr. Wadsworth’s place. “Say, is that the place they robbed?” he continued, with some show of interest.

“Yes,” answered Dave. “Now tell me how those fellows looked.”

“I can’t tell yer that, exactly, fer my eyesight ain’t none too good, I git so much smoke an’ cinders in ’em from the railroad. But they was kinder young fellers, I think, and putty good educated—not common fellers like me. Somethin’ like yerself. An’ they was dressed putty good, long overcoats, and soft hats wot was pulled down over their faces.”

“Did you hear them speak any names?” asked Officer Anderson.

“Nary a name.”

“Have you seen the two men during the last hour or so?” asked Dave.

“No, ain’t see ’em since I spotted ’em back of the jewelry factory. That was about seven, or maybe eight o’clock.”

“Did they go into the works then?”

“No, they just stood by the back fence talkin’. I thought they had somethin’ to do with that new buildin’ going up there, so I didn’t think nuthin’ more about it.”

“I see. Well, Joe, I guess you had better come with us for the present,” went on Dave. “We’ll want your testimony.”

“It ain’t fair to arrest me!” whined the tramp.

“We won’t call it arrest,” went on Dave, before the policeman could speak. “You’ll be detained, that’s all, and I’ll see that you don’t lose anything by it.”

“All right then, if that’s the way you’re goin’ to put it,” answered Applejack Joe resignedly. “But I hope you’ll see to it that I gits something to eat an’ a warm place to sleep.”

“I’ll remember,” returned our hero.

There seemed nothing now to do but to return to the jewelry works and this Dave did, taking the tramp and the officer with him. When they arrived they found the chief of police there, with two officers. The chief was questioning Mr. Wadsworth and the distracted manufacturer was telling what he knew about the crime that had been committed.

The arrival of those from the depot, and what the tramp had to tell, put a new face on the matter. One of the officers said he had seen the two strangers with the tool-bag, but had put them down for traveling salesmen visiting Crumville on business.

“They are undoubtedly the guilty parties,” said the chief. “The only question is: Where did they go to?”

“Well, they didn’t take that twelve-fifteen train,” answered Dave.

“Then they either got out of town by the use of a horse or an auto, or else they are here yet,” said Mr. Wadsworth. “Oh, catch them! Catch them if you can! I must get those jewels back! I’ll give a big reward for their safe return.”

“Have you heard from Phil or Roger yet?”

“No, Dave.”

“They may bring in some word.”

“Let us hope so,” groaned the manufacturer.

“What became of the watchman?”

“That is a mystery. Perhaps they carried him off and threw him into the river, or something like that!”

“Oh, they wouldn’t be as rascally as all that!” returned Dave, in horror.

“Perhaps. Some robbers are very desperate characters.”

At that moment came a cry from one of the workrooms, where one of the officers had gone to take a look around.

“What is it, Carr?” called the chief of police.

“Here’s poor Tony Wells,” was the answer. “He’s in bad shape. Better somebody run for a doctor at once!”

CHAPTER XII—THE TELLTALE CIGARETTE BOX

“They—knocked me down!” gasped the old watchman. “I—I—tried to telephone—after the explosion, but—but——” He could not go on, and suddenly relapsed again into unconsciousness.

“Poor fellow!” said Mr. Wadsworth, tenderly. “We must do what we can for him.”

“Is anything missing besides the jewels?” asked Dave, while they were waiting for the doctor to come, and waiting to hear from the others who had gone out.

“No, Dave. But that is enough. If they are not recovered, I shall be ruined.”

“Can they hold you responsible for the loss?”

“Yes, for when I took the jewels to re-set I guaranteed the safe return of each jewel. I had to do that because they were afraid some workmen might try to substitute other jewels not so good—which is sometimes done.”

“And you said they were worth seventy-five thousand dollars?”

“All of that.”

“Those robbers certainly made a haul.”

“It drives me crazy to think about it,” groaned Oliver Wadsworth.

“Perhaps the others who went out will catch them,” answered our hero, hopefully.

Soon the doctor arrived and took charge of old Tony Wells, whom he knew well. As Wells was a widower, living alone, the doctor said he would take the old man to his own home, where he could have constant attention.

“He is already in a fever,” said the physician. “We had better not try to question him at present. It will only excite him the more.” And a little later the sufferer was placed on a litter and carried to the doctor’s residence.

By this time the news was circulating that the Wadsworth jewelry works had been robbed, and many persons spent the rest of the night looking for the two young men who were supposed to be guilty of the crime. Oliver Wadsworth and an officer remained at the offices, guarding the wrecked place and looking for clews of the evildoers. But nothing in the way of evidence against the robbers was brought to light, excepting that they had used several drills and some dynamite on the two old safes, probably blowing them up simultaneously. They had taken the tool-bag with its contents with them and also another small valise, belonging to one of Mr. Wadsworth’s traveling salesmen.

“I can’t understand why Tony Wells didn’t discover them when they first came in,” said Dave.

“Maybe he did and they made him a prisoner,” suggested Mr. Wadsworth. “Tony was very faithful—the best watchman I ever had.”

Daylight came at last and still the search for the two robbers was kept up. In the meantime, telegrams and telephone messages had been sent in all directions. To stimulate the searchers Mr. Wadsworth offered a reward of one thousand dollars for the recovery of the jewels and this reward was later on increased to five thousand dollars.

When Tony Wells was well enough to tell his story he said he had been going the rounds of the works when he suddenly found himself confronted by two masked men. He had started to cry out and run for help when the men had seized him and thrown him down and bound him fast to a work-bench. Then the men had gone to the offices, and later on had come the explosion. He knew they were blowing open the safes and did what he could to free himself. At last he managed to get free, but found himself too weak to run for help. He had dragged himself to the telephone in the shipping-room and was sending his message to Mr. Wadsworth when the masked men had again appeared and knocked him down. That was all he remembered until the time he was found, as already described.

“You did not see the faces of the two men?” asked Oliver Wadsworth.

“No, sir, they were all covered with black masks. But I think the fellows was rather young-like,” answered the old watchman. “Both of ’em was about the size of Dave Porter,—but neither of ’em was Dave,—I know that by the voices,” he went on, hastily.

“No, Dave was at home with me,” said Oliver Wadsworth. “But he and one of his friends passed the works just before the explosion.”

The news of the robbery had upset the Wadsworth household completely. Mrs. Wadsworth was as much distressed as her husband, and Jessie was as pale as if seriously ill.

“Oh, Dave, supposing the jewels are not recovered!” said Jessie, when they met in the hallway. “It will ruin father,—I heard him tell mamma so!”

“We are going to get them back—we’ve simply got to do it,” Dave replied.

“But how? Nobody seems to know what has become of the robbers.”

“Oh, just wait, Jessie. We are sure to get some trace of them sooner or later.”

“What makes you so hopeful, Dave?” and now the girl suddenly clutched his arm. “Have you a clew?”

“I think so, but I am not sure. I am going to talk to your father about it, and then I am going to take another look around Crumville and around the offices.”

Dave’s father and his Uncle Dunston had been out all day, and so had Phil and Roger and Ben, and a score of others, including the officers of the law. But nothing had been seen or heard of the mysterious men with the tool-bag. Another tramp had been rounded up, but he knew absolutely nothing of the crime and was let go again.

Oliver Wadsworth’s face was white and drawn and he looked as if he had suddenly grown five years older. He had a long, private conversation with Dave’s father and Dunston Porter, and all three men looked very grave when the conference came to an end.

There was good cause for this seriousness. The new addition to the jewelry works had placed Mr. Wadsworth in debt. The Porters had lent him twenty thousand dollars, and, just then, could lend him no more, having a number of obligations of their own to meet.

The Carwith jewels were the property of Mr. and Mrs. Ridgeway Osgood Carwith, of Fifth Avenue, New York City. The Carwiths were now on a trip around the world, but were expected home some time in the spring. Mr. Wadsworth had agreed to re-set the jewels according to designs already accepted by the millionaire and his wife, and had guaranteed the safe return of the jewels, re-set as specified, not later than the first of the following May. As the millionaire was a strict business man he had demanded a bond for the safe return of his property, and this bond had been given by Mr. Wadsworth, indorsed by David Breslow Porter and Dunston Porter.

Thus it will readily be seen that the millionaire and his wife were amply secured. If they did not get the jewels back they would demand the payment of the bond, worth seventy-five thousand dollars, and Mr. Wadsworth and the Porters would have to make good.

On the second day after the robbery, Dave, Roger, and Phil went down to the jewelry works and began a close investigation on their own account. Dave had mentioned something to his chums that had caused them to open their eyes in astonishment.

An hour was spent around the offices, and then Phil picked up an empty cigarette case. He took it to Dave and Roger and both looked at it with keen interest.

“I guess that is another clew,” said our hero. “Let us look around some more.”

“I’m going for the train now,” said the senator’s son, a little later. “And as soon as I find Hooker Montgomery I’ll let you know.”

“Yes, and make him come here, whether he wants to or not,” cried Dave.

“You leave that to me,” answered Roger, grimly.

Oliver Wadsworth had been interviewing a private detective, and soon the man left, stating he thought he could lay his hands on the guilty parties.

“I’ll look for Tom Basnett,” said the detective. “This looks like one of his jobs.”

“I don’t care whose job it is—I want the jewels back,” said Mr. Wadsworth, wearily. He had not slept since the crime had been committed.

“Mr. Wadsworth, Phil and I would like to talk to you in private,” said Dave, when he could get the chance.

“You have some clew, Dave?”

“Well, I want to tell you something, and then you can judge for yourself.”

“Very well, come with me,” answered the manufacturer, and led the way to a little side-room, used by the salesmen for exhibiting wares to possible customers.

“I want to tell you all about something that happened early in the winter, while I was at Oak Hall,” said Dave. And then he told of how he had called on the fake doctor, Hooker Montgomery, and how he had been attacked from behind and made a prisoner, and carried off to a house in the woods, the particulars of which have already been set down in “Dave Porter and His Rivals.”

“The fellows who carried me off were the doctor and the driver, who was only a tool, and two fellows who have caused me a lot of trouble in the past, Nick Jasniff and Link Merwell,” went on our hero. “When I got away I tried to follow up Jasniff and Merwell, but they got away from me, and so did the driver get away. But one day I found Hooker Montgomery, and by threatening to have him arrested I made him confess to the truth, which was that Jasniff and Merwell had hired him to help get me in their power. At first they told Montgomery it was only a schoolboy trick, and he said he believed them, but, later on, it leaked out that Jasniff and Merwell had another motive in making me a prisoner.”

“And that motive——?” began Oliver Wadsworth, with deep interest.

“Doctor Montgomery said that Jasniff and Merwell had in mind to drug me and take me to some place a good distance from Oak Hall. He said he also heard them speak of robbing a jewelry works, and I was to be drugged and left in the factory,—to make it appear as if I had done the deed and as if the blowing up of a safe had stunned me.”

“Dave, is this possible!” exclaimed the manufacturer.

“It is true, Mr. Wadsworth,” said Phil. “I was along and so was Roger at the time. Montgomery couldn’t give many details, but he said he thought Jasniff and Merwell were cold-blooded villains and he wanted nothing more to do with them.”

“This looks as if those rascals, Jasniff and Merwell, had come here.”

“I believe they did come,” went on Dave. “And here is one clew we have already picked up against them.” And he held up the empty cigarette box.

“What is that? Only a cigarette box. How can that be a clew?”

“I will tell you. Both Jasniff and Merwell are inveterate cigarette smokers. I have seen them smoking many times. They smoke a Turkish brand of cigarettes, having a peculiar blue and gold band around the box. This is the same kind of a box, and I am convinced that this box was emptied and thrown away in your offices by Jasniff or Merwell.”

CHAPTER XIII—DARK DAYS

“The detective who was here thought he had a clew against a professional bank burglar. Personally, I think this looks more like the work of professionals than fellows just out of school,” said the manufacturer; and there, for the time being, the matter rested.

During the day two more detectives appeared and went over the ground, as the other officials had done. One thought he saw in the robbery the hand of a criminal known as Red Andrews.

“This is just the way Red Andrews would go at a job,” said the detective. “He was sent up for robbing a private banker some years ago, and he got out two months ago. He was in New York—I saw him on Fifth Avenue, not far from the Carwith mansion. He may have heard about the jewels there. I am going to look for him.” And he departed on a hunt for Red Andrews.

It was not until two days later that Roger came back to Crumville. His face showed his disappointment.

“Such mean luck!” he exclaimed, when he met Dave, Phil, and Ben. “I went to four towns, looking for Hooker Montgomery, and at last I found out that he had left the east several days ago.”

“Where did he go to?” questioned our hero.

“The folks I met couldn’t tell exactly, but they thought to visit a rich aunt in the far west.”

This was a great disappointment, for they had hoped to learn much more concerning the plans of Jasniff and Merwell, from the fake doctor.

“We might send him a letter, to his last residence. Maybe the post-office authorities will forward it,” suggested Phil.

“I did that,” answered the senator’s son. “I told him that I wanted to hear from him at once, and that it would be money in his pocket to write or to telegraph to me. I didn’t mention your name, Dave, for I thought he might hear of this robbery and get suspicious.”

It was ideal weather for skating and sleighing, but none of the young folks at the Wadsworth mansion felt like going out for fun. All could see that the older folks were much worried, and consequently, they were worried, too.

“Oh, Dave, what if those jewels are never recovered?” said Laura to her brother, when they were alone. “It will just about ruin Mr. Wadsworth, Uncle Dunston says.”

“Let us hope for the best, Laura.”

“I heard you and the other boys talking about Nick Jasniff and Link Merwell.”

“Yes?”

“Do you really imagine they had something to do with it?”

“Yes, I think so, and so do Phil, Ben, and Roger. But the detectives and Mr. Wadsworth think the work was done by professionals. They don’t think that fellows like Nick and Link would be equal to the job.”

“But if you think Merwell and Jasniff guilty, why don’t you go after them and find out?”

“We don’t know where they are.”

“Aren’t they with their folks?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. The Jasniffs are traveling aboard and Mr. Merwell is in Philadelphia. We sent to Mr. Merwell—through an outsider—and learned that he didn’t know where Link was just now, said he had written that he was going on a tour south for the winter. My private opinion is that Mr. Merwell finds Link hard to manage and is glad to get rid of him.”

“Do you suppose he did go south?”

“He might—after this affair here.”

“They didn’t say what part of the south he went to?”

“They said Florida. But Florida is pretty big, you know,” and Dave smiled faintly.

“Jessie is awfully downcast over this, and so is Mrs. Wadsworth—in fact, we all are.”

“I know it, Laura.” Dave drew a long breath. “It’s awfully hard to sit still and do nothing. I imagine Mr. Wadsworth can’t sleep for thinking of the affair.”

“I heard Mrs. Wadsworth talking last night to him. I didn’t mean to listen, Dave, but before I could get away I heard her say that if it was necessary she would give up this house to live in and move to a smaller place! Think of it! Why, her very heart is set on this house and these fine grounds! And Jessie thinks the world of them, too!”

“It would be awfully hard if they did have to give them up, Laura.”

“Dave, can’t father or Uncle Dunston help them, if they need help?”

“They have helped Mr. Wadsworth already—loaned him twenty thousand dollars so that he could put that new addition to the works. They also indorsed his note covering the safe return of the jewels. If those jewels aren’t gotten back, and Mr. Wadsworth can’t make good on that note, father and Uncle Dunston will have to pay the money.”

“All of it?”

“As much as Mr. Wadsworth can’t pay. And the worst of the whole matter is, Laura, just at present father and Uncle Dunston have their ready money tied up in such a manner that they can’t get hold of it excepting at a great loss. Oh, it certainly is a terrible state of affairs!” And Dave shook his head, gravely.

During that week Ben had Shadow Hamilton and Buster Beggs visit him. Of course, the new arrivals had to hear all about the robbery, and they came over with Ben to call on the other boys, and on the girls.

“This is fierce!” was Buster’s comment. “And Ben says you rather suspect Merwell and Jasniff,” he added, in a whisper.

“We do, but don’t say anything to any outsiders about it,” answered Dave.

“Say, that puts me in mind of a story,” said Shadow. “A little girl once——”

“Wow! Cut it out, Shadow!” burst out Phil.

“Stories don’t go with robberies,” supplemented Roger.

“Let him tell it,” put in Dave, with a faint smile. “It will relieve his mind, and I guess I need a little fun to brace me up—I’ve been so depressed lately.”

“This isn’t so very much of a story,” went on Shadow, as all looked at him. “Dave telling Buster not to let outsiders know put me in mind of it. Once the mother of a little girl told her that her uncle had been naughty and had been put in prison for it. Said the mother, ‘Now, Lucy, don’t tell anybody.’ So Lucy went out to play and pretty soon, when she had all her companions around her she said, ‘What do you think my ma said? She said that when anybody has an uncle in prison, like my uncle is, you mustn’t tell anybody. So I’m not going to tell a single person!’”

“Well, I guess the boys know what I mean,” said Dave, after a short laugh. “I want you to keep this to yourselves. Don’t spread it any further. It may be that I am mistaken, and if so, and Merwell and Jasniff heard of what I have said, they would come down on me like a ton of bricks—and I’d not blame them.”

In the afternoon, urged by Mrs. Wadsworth, the boys went skating, taking the girls with them. On the ice they met Nat Poole, but the money-lender’s son did not speak to them, indeed he did his best to keep out of their way.

“He hasn’t forgotten New Year’s Eve,” said Ben. “He had better keep his distance, unless he wants to get into more trouble.”

“Wonder what he thinks of the robbery?” mused Dave.

“We might get Buster to pump him,” suggested Phil. “He is on pretty good terms with Nat,—that is, they are not open enemies.”

Buster was appealed to and he readily agreed to do the “pumping,” provided the money-lender’s son had anything to say. He skated off by himself and then threw himself in Nat’s way, and was gone the best part of half an hour.

“Well, did you learn anything?” queried Roger, when the stout youth returned.

“I guess I did!” cried Buster. “Say, I think Nat Poole is about as mean as they make ’em!” he burst out. “And he hasn’t a grain of good, hard common-sense!”

“What did he say?” demanded Phil.

“Oh, he said a lot of things, about the robbery, and about the Wadsworths and the Porters. First he said he didn’t believe the jewels were nearly as valuable as Mr. Wadsworth represented them to be, and the manufacturer was kicking up a big fuss just as a sort of advertisement. Then he said there was a report that Dave had been seen in front of the works just a few minutes before the explosion, and that that looked mighty suspicious to him.”

“The mean fellow!” muttered Roger.

“I told him that you and Roger were going to the Wadsworth house at the time, and were home when the watchman telephoned, but he only tossed his head as if he didn’t believe a word of it, and said he guessed Dave could tell something if he was of a mind to talk.”

“If that isn’t Poole to a T!” cried Phil.

“If I were you, Dave, I’d punch his head for him,” was Shadow’s advice.

“That wouldn’t do any good,” said Ben. “You can’t stop Nat from talking any more than you can stop water from running out of a sieve.”

“Which puts me in mind of another story,” burst out Shadow, eagerly. “Once two men——”

“Oh, Shadow, another?” cried Buster, reproachfully.

“I know that story—it’s moss-covered with age,” announced Roger.

“What is it?” demanded the story-teller of Oak Hall.

“Two men—bet—carry water in a sieve—bet taken—water frozen. Ha! ha! Shadow, I got you that time.”

“Well, it’s a good story anyway,” answered Shadow, ruefully.

“I shan’t attempt to stop Nat unless he makes some direct accusation,” said Dave, calmly. “What would be the use? It would only make matters worse.”

“If you took notice of what he says, some folks would begin to think there was something in it,” said Phil. “Yes, better drop Nat. He isn’t worth bothering about, anyway. Just the same, it is mean for him to speak in this fashion.”

“He wouldn’t be Nat Poole if he didn’t,” retorted Roger.

Despite this incident, the boys and girls managed to have a good time on the ice, and for an hour or two Dave forgot his troubles and those of his friends.

“What are you going to do for the rest of the vacation, Dave?” said Roger, that evening. “You know you promised to come to my home.”

“Yes, and you promised to visit me, too,” added Phil. “You haven’t been to our house in a long time.”

“To tell the truth, I haven’t the heart to go anywhere,” answered Dave, soberly. “I guess I had better stay here and see if something doesn’t turn up.”

“Well, I can’t blame you,” said the senator’s son, and Phil said the same.

CHAPTER XIV—OFF FOR THE SOUTH

“‘I was walking down one of the main streets of Jacksonville, looking into the shop windows, when what do you think? I saw Link Merwell and Nick Jasniff. You could have knocked me over with a feather, for I hadn’t imagined that they were anywhere near. They were nattily dressed and each carried a small valise, and they were buying caps and some other things for a sea voyage. I went into the shop and called to them, and my! both of them jumped as if they were shot, and Merwell got so pale I thought he was going to faint. I said “Hello,” but they didn’t answer to that, and Jasniff at once wanted to know if I was alone. When I told him I was he seemed mightily relieved, and Merwell looked relieved, too. They wanted to know what I was doing there and I told them. Then I asked what they were doing, but I couldn’t get any straight answer. Merwell started to say something about going to sea, but Jasniff stopped him short, and said they guessed they would go back to New York, where they had come from.

“‘It was awful funny—they positively looked scared to death, and while they were talking to me they looked over my shoulders, as if on their guard against somebody. I asked them what they had been doing since they left Rockville, and they said not much of anything, just traveling around. They seemed to have plenty of money, for just as I went into the shop I saw Merwell pay for something from a big roll of greenbacks.

“‘After I left them, I got a bit curious about the pair, and so I watched them come from the shop and walk down to one of the docks and go aboard a big four-masted schooner. I hung around a little and pretty soon they came from the schooner and went up to one of the big hotels, and there I lost sight of them. Each had his little valise with him, but they weren’t big enough for much clothing. My, but they were scared! I fancy they thought I might pitch into them for the mean things they did in the past. But I didn’t want to start any row.’”

“Is that all he says?” demanded Dave, after the senator’s son had finished.

“That’s all he says about Merwell and Jasniff and their doings.”

“Doesn’t he mention the name of that schooner, or the hotel?” asked Phil.

“No.”

“Did you say Luke was going to Jacksonville?” asked our hero.

“Yes, his whole family are down there.”

“Then I could telegraph to him and he could give me the name of the hotel, and of the schooner.”

“Dave, what do you make out of this?” demanded the senator’s son.

“I make out of it that Merwell and Jasniff are guilty!” burst out Dave. “They went from here to Florida, and now they have either gone to sea, or are going, as soon as that schooner sails. Do you notice what Luke says about their being scared almost to death when they saw him? They evidently thought some of us, or the officers of the law, were with him.”

“And the little valises!” burst out the shipowner’s son. “Perhaps they contain the jewels!”

“Would they be foolish enough to carry them around like that?” questioned Roger. “Wouldn’t they hide them?”

“They may be looking for some good hiding-place, or some place where they can sell them,” answered Dave. “Remember, Jasniff and Merwell are green at this business—they wouldn’t go at it like professionals. If they were professionals, they wouldn’t have acted so scared.”

“That is true. What will you do, tell Mr. Wadsworth of this?”

“I think I’ll tell my father and my Uncle Dunston first. Mr. Wadsworth doesn’t place much credit in the story of Merwell and Jasniff’s guilt. He thinks the detectives are on the right track.”

“Well, possibly they are,” admitted Phil. “But I must say, this looks mighty suspicious to me.”

“I have half a mind to take matters in my own hands and run down to Jacksonville,” went on our hero. “Who knows but what I might find Merwell and Jasniff? If I did, I could stop them and make them give an account of themselves by making that old charge of abduction against them, and that charge of having used my name.”

“Say, that’s an idea!” cried Roger. “And say, I’d like to go with you.”

“So would I,” added Phil. “We might go down in one of my father’s ships.”

“Too slow, Phil—the limited express for this trip,” answered Dave. “But I must talk it over with dad first,” he added.

“We have got over three weeks before school opens again,” pursued the senator’s son. “We could go down to Florida and back easily in that time.”

Dave’s father had gone to New York on business, but came home that evening. In the meantime a telegram was sent to Luke Watson, asking for the name of the hotel, at which Merwell and Jasniff had stopped, and of the schooner.

Dave’s father and his uncle listened closely to what he had to tell, and to the reading of the letter from Luke Watson. They talked the affair over for an hour with the boys.

“You may be right, boys,” said Mr. Porter, at last. “And it may be a good plan to follow those rascals up. But I don’t think I would bother Mr. Wadsworth about it. He received a telegram from one of the detectives, and the officer is more sure than ever that he is on the right track. He caught Red Andrews pawning a fair-sized diamond, and he thinks the gem is from the Carwith collection.”

“Can’t he make Red Andrews confess?” asked Dave.

“Unfortunately the rascal got away when on the way to the police-station. But the detective feels he can soon round him up again.”

Dave looked thoughtfully out of the window and tapped the table with his fingers.

“You still think Merwell and Jasniff guilty?” remarked his uncle, with a smile.

“Yes, Uncle Dunston. After what Hooker Montgomery said, I’ll think them guilty until somebody proves otherwise.”

“Then I tell you what I’ll do, boys,” said Dunston Porter. “I’ll take a trip down to Florida with you and look into this matter. I’d rather be on the move than sitting still waiting for something to turn up.”

“Will you go?” cried Dave, eagerly.

“I will.”

“When?”

“As soon as you wish, and we can get train accommodations.”

“Hadn’t we better wait until we hear from Luke?” suggested Roger.

“No, let us get off at once!” exclaimed Dave. “If he sends word after we are gone, it can be forwarded to us.” And so it was arranged.

Great was the surprise of the Wadsworths and of Laura when the boys and Dunston Porter announced that they were going to start for Florida the next morning.

“Why, Dave?” asked Jessie. “Why are you going in such a hurry?”

“Oh, I hardly care to tell, Jessie,” he answered. “It may prove only a wild goose chase.”

“It is about the missing jewels?”

“Yes.”

“Then you are after Merwell and Jasniff.”

“Yes, but please don’t tell any outsiders.”

“Oh, Dave, don’t get into any trouble!” cried the girl, as she clung to him. “They are such bad fellows! You know what they have done to you in the past!”

“I am not afraid of them.”

“Oh, I know how brave you are, Dave! But—but don’t let them harm you—for my sake, please!” And then the tears came into her eyes and she hid her face on his arm.

“There! there! don’t worry!” he said, as he bent over her, and then he kissed her forehead. “We’ll be back before long,” and he gave her a little hug. Then the others came in.

Laura was also worried, but glad that her uncle would be along. She helped Dave to pack his suit-case. Phil and Roger also packed up, and sent word home regarding the proposed trip. As my old readers know, all the boys were well-to-do, so the expenses did not bother them.

At breakfast time the following morning came a telegram from Luke Watson. It read as follows:

“The hotel was the Castor. Think schooner was the Emma Brown, or Black, or Jones. Common name.”

“Well, that isn’t very definite, but it is something to work on,” remarked Dunston Porter.

Soon the party of four were ready to start. There was a general hand-shaking and also a few kisses.

“Well, have a good time, even if you don’t catch those fellows,” said Mrs. Wadsworth.

“Keep out of trouble,” warned Laura.

“Yes, yes, don’t let them harm you,” pleaded timid Jessie.

“And let us hear from you often,” said Mr. Porter.

“I don’t know what to say about this,” said Oliver Wadsworth, shaking his head, slowly. “But if you do get on the track of those jewels, leave no stone unturned to get them.”

“Leave that to me, Mr. Wadsworth,” said Dunston Porter. “If we find those young men have the gems—or had them—we’ll get them back, never fear.” And he spoke in a tone that showed he meant what he said.

They went to the depot in the family sleigh. Ben had heard of their going away and was there to see them off. Soon the train rolled in that was to carry the travelers to New York City.

“Good-by!” cried the boys, as they clambered aboard the car.

“Good-by!” called Ben. “I wish you luck.” And then the girls waved their hands, and the train moved off, slowly at first and then faster and faster, until Crumville was left behind.

“It’s a great trip they are taking,” said Ben, to Laura and Jessie. “Wish I was going along.”

“Why didn’t you go?” questioned Laura.

“Oh, I’ve got some things to do at home,” answered Ben. He did not care to add that his father did not wish to stand the extra expense. Mr. Basswood was fairly well-to-do, but thought he was spending enough on his son by sending him to boarding-school.

The sleigh was about to drive off when the station agent came running out, waving a yellow envelope.

“Is Mr. Wadsworth here?” he questioned, of Jessie.

“No, Mr. Mack, my father went to business. What is it, a telegram?”

“Yes,—something very important too.”

“Then give it to me and I will take it to him at once.”

“I could send it, but——”

“Never mind. Here, I will sign for it,” and Jessie did so. Then the whip cracked and the horses started for the jewelry works on a gallop.

When Jessie handed the telegram to her father he opened it and read the contents eagerly. His face lit up.

“This is good news!” he cried. “Good news! I must go to Boston at once.”

“Have they found the jewels?” questioned his daughter.

“The detective thinks he has located them. Yes, I must go at once.” And Mr. Wadsworth hurried off to prepare for the journey.