SOMETHING OF A MYSTERY
“THE mischief!” cried Frank, as he joined Bob and Sammy.
Jed Burr and his crowd thought it was funny to see the old man flounder
around.
“Buffer!” cried one of them.
“Hey, want a back-stop?” echoed another.
“He’s smashed something,” spoke a third.
“Seems to be his watch,” reported the first speaker.
“You’re in a fix, Bob, this time, sure,” said Sammy.
“I’m sorry it’s Mr. Dolby,” replied Bob. “He doesn’t like any of us any
too well.”
Silas Dolby was a miserly old man who had few friends in Fairview, and
he was tight-fisted, cross, and too shrewd to please honest people.
Bob, Frank and Sammy were “down in his bad books,” as the saying goes.
It was none of their fault, but rather a merit. While camping in the
mountains on Sammy Brown’s treasure search, they had found a pocketbook.
This they gave to Frank’s father, who looked it over. It belonged to
Silas Dolby, who had lost it, and was full of papers. Among them Mr.
Haven found some notes that should have been given to a poor widow in
the village, the mother of little, crippled Benny Lane. It seemed that
her husband had paid money on a mortgage on their little home to old
Dolby. After Mr. Lane died the miser said nothing about this. He was
going to turn Mrs. Lane out of her house. When Mr. Haven told of the
hidden notes, they made old Silas Dolby turn the house over to its
rightful owner. This made Mrs. Lane a happy woman, but after that Mr.
Dolby snarled and glared at the boys whenever he came near them.
“Hold on, Bob, I’ll try and explain to Mr. Dolby,” said Frank, as Bob
started towards the prostrate man.
“No, I’m going to face the music myself,” replied Bob.
The other boys had run forward to where the old miser was just getting
to his feet. His face was wrathy, and he scowled at the crowd.
“Here is your cane, Mr. Dolby,” said Frank, picking up the stick and
offering it to its owner.
“And here’s your hat,” added Sammy.
“Who threw that ball at me?” roared the old miser.
“Bob Bouncer kicked it,” said Jed Burr.
“Oh, it was you, was it?” snarled the angry old man, making a lunge
with his cane. Bob stood his ground.
“Yes, Mr. Dolby,” replied Bob, “but it was an accident.”
“Bah!”
“I didn’t know anybody was crossing the field.”
“Bosh! That ball has lamed my chest. I don’t know but what I’m hurt
inside.”
“Let us help you home, Mr. Dolby,” said Frank.
“Get away!” shouted the old man, not much like a person very seriously
injured. “See here, Bob Bouncer, I know your mean feelings towards me.”
“I haven’t any,” declared Bob.
“Bah! Well, whether you have or not, who’s going to pay for that?”
Mr. Dolby pointed down to the spot where he had fallen. A half-sunken
stone marked a base. In falling, it seemed that his watch had spilled
out of his pocket. It had landed on the stone. There it lay, its case
open and bent, and its glass face smashed in.
“It’s too bad, I declare!” spoke Frank. “Mr. Dolby, we’re awfully sorry
you broke your watch.”
“I didn’t break it,” snarled the perverse old man. “You fellows smashed
it—Bob Bouncer did. Think it smart, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t,” answered Bob, “for I didn’t mean to do it.”
“Well, I’ll make you smart for it, never fear.”
“Maybe the watch isn’t much hurt,” said Sammy.
“Hurt? It’s ruined!” cried old Dolby. “A valuable old timepiece, too.
Why, I wouldn’t lose that watch for one hundred dollars.”
“See here, Mr. Dolby,” spoke Frank, somewhat angry at the way the old
man talked, “we’ll get the watch fixed for you.”
“Huh! you’ll have to.”
“My father has bought out the Jones jewelry store, and put my uncle
in charge. I’ll tell him about the watch, and if you’ll give it to me
he’ll mend it for you.”
“Give it to you and never see it again?” sneered the old man. “Not
much.”
“Then fetch it down to the store, and my uncle will fix it.”
Silas Dolby did not say much after this. He took up the watch, shook
his cane at the boys, and went away grumbling to himself.
“I hope that watch won’t cost much,” said Bob.
“Well, I’ve got a dollar towards fixing it,” said Frank. “The money the
chauffeur gave us, you know.”
“We’ll all pitch in and work out the rest of it,” said Sammy,
cheerfully, for he saw that Bob was rather glum over his bad luck.
The accident quite dampened their spirits, and they did not take much
more interest in the game.
About three o’clock, as they were leaving the field, Dave Duncan came
up to them.
“Hi, you fellows,” he sang out in his usual lively fashion, “our crowd
is in for a picnic to-night.”
“Is that so?” asked Frank.
“Yes, we’re to meet at the Cove at seven o’clock.”
“A boating party, eh?” inquired Bob.
“No, we call it a clam bake, but, of course, there won’t be many clams.
We’ll have a big bonfire, and some of the fellows are going to bring a
lunch.”
“Jolly,” said Sammy. “I’ll be there.”
“So will I,” added Bob.
“Count me in, Dave,” said Frank.
He and Bob and Sammy started homewards. They were all thinking of the
broken watch.
“I think I’ll go around to the store and tell my uncle about that
watch,” said Frank.
“I’ll go, too,” said Sammy.
“I’ve got to go home for a bit,” said Bob. “But I’ll come around to
your house in about half an hour.”
“All right.”
Bob went home. His mother at noon had asked him to call some time
during the afternoon, to take a note to a lady living some distance
from them. Bob got the note and delivered it. Then he started on his
way to look for his chums.
As he came to the street where Miss Simmons lived, Bob continued down
it.
“It’s only a block out of my way,” he said. “Maybe something new has
turned up about those letters. I’m curious to know.”
Just as Bob got near the Simmons place, he paused and drew back in the
shelter of a big oak tree.
“That’s queer,” he could not help saying, and he peered curiously at
the gateway of the place. A man was just passing through it.
The lad stood stock still and stared as he saw that this man was the
tramp he had caught lounging about the Dunbar place. The fellow was too
much taken up with what he was about to notice Bob. Besides, he started
from the gate in the opposite direction.
As he did so, Bob noticed that he was looking over some money in his
hand. Bob caught sight of a green bank note, and heard some loose
silver jingled. The man thrust this money into his pocket, and folded
up a piece of paper that made Bob think of a note or a check.
“I don’t understand that at all,” spoke out Bob. “And I don’t like it
at all,” he added, after a moment’s thought. “I guess I’ll see Miss
Simmons.”
Bob entered the yard. As he came up the steps of the porch he heard
some one sobbing. Looking towards the other end of the porch he made
out Miss Simmons.
She was seated in a porch rocker and looked very wretched. As she saw
Bob she tried to hide her tears.
“Why, what is the matter, Miss Simmons?” asked the lad in a kindly way.
“Oh, nothing,” replied the old maid. “You see, I have had a very trying
afternoon.”
“I suppose so,” said Bob. “Miss Simmons, I just saw a man leave here.
He’s a stranger in Fairview, I think.”
Miss Simmons looked quite startled at this. She flushed a little and
clasped her hands nervously.
“Why—why, Bob, I guess he is,” she stammered.
“Was he begging? I think he is a tramp.”
“Yes, that’s it,” nodded the old maid, quickly.
“I thought I would stop in as I was going by,” said Bob. “I’ll try and
get time to look again for those four missing letters this afternoon,
Miss Simmons.”
“Oh, no, you needn’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because they have been found,” said Miss Simmons. “See, I have them
all now,” and she drew aside her apron to show a package in her lap.
“Well, I’m awful glad you got them back,” said Bob.
He was very much surprised, but Miss Simmons did not explain any
further.
“I guess I’ll go,” he said, moving down the steps. “If I can help you
in any way, Miss Simmons, please tell me.”
“No, Bob,” replied the old maid, “there is nothing you can do. I am
greatly obliged for what you have done. I’ll have a little change for
you when I see you again.”
Bob went away slowly. He did not at all like the looks of things.
“Sort of funny,” he thought. “She has got those letters back, she says.
How did she get them? I’ll bet I know. That tramp found them.”
Bob walked along, figuring out his own ideas.
“I feel pretty sure that tramp told me a story,” he said to himself. “I
was goose enough to tell him about the letters and Miss Simmons. He had
the letters all the time he was pumping me on the porch of the Dunbar
place. Then he came to Miss Simmons and made the poor woman pay a lot
for them. How much, I wonder? I hope she wasn’t foolish enough to let
the fellow rob her.”
Bob had promised Miss Simmons that he would say nothing about the
letters. A few minutes later he saw Frank and Sammy coming down the
street.
“I wish I could tell them about Miss Simmons, and see what they think
about it,” he mused. “I can’t do it, though, and keep my word. Hello,
fellows, which way?” he hailed, as he came up to his chums.
“We’re going up to Mr. Dolby’s,” said Sammy.
“What for?” asked Bob.
“My uncle told me to go up there and get that watch,” explained Frank.
“To have it mended?”
“Yes, he says he’ll do it for nothing for us.”
“That’s good!” cried Bob. “Come on, I’ll go with you. What’s that,
Frank?” he asked, as he saw his friend put a key from his hand into his
coat pocket.
“It’s an extra key to the jewelry store.”
“Are you going to carry one?”
“Oh, no,” replied Frank, with a laugh. “My uncle got it made, and I’m
to take it to my father, so if he ever wants to get into the store when
uncle is away he can do so.”
“I see.”
“Father has put a lot of money into the business,” went on Frank.
“So I heard.”
“You see, uncle is a watchmaker, and both thought it would be a good
thing to buy out the old jeweler, Jones, who wanted to move to the
city.”
The boys reached the Dolby house to find it shut up tight and as dismal
looking as ever. Frank went up the walk, while his comrades waited at
the gate.
Just as he went up the steps there was a rush and a growl, and a savage
dog came running up to Frank.
[Illustration: _The Animal Growled and Sprang at Him_]
Every boy in Fairview was afraid of the old miser’s dog. A good many
had pelted him as they went by the place, and that made him ugly. Silas
Dolby, it was said, half starved the poor animal, and that made him
fierce.
“Get back! Go away!” called Frank, backing away from the dog.
The animal growled and sprang and snapped at him. Frank stumbled over a
broken board. Then he picked up a crotched piece of tree wood. The dog
fought him half way back to the gate, when Bob and Sammy came running
up to the rescue of their chum. The dog had caught and torn Frank’s
sleeve. They beat him off with switches, but the animal was vicious and
stubborn, and followed them up.
Just as they got through the gate and slammed it shut, Mr. Dolby
appeared on the steps.
“Hi, there; what are you up to?” he shouted.
“I had a message for you, but your dog wouldn’t let me in,” said Frank.
“What’s your message?” asked the old man, surlily.
“My uncle says he will fix up your watch for you as good as new.”
“Who pays for it?”
“We have arranged for that.”
“All right, I’ll take it down to him this evening.”
Sammy was brushing the dirt from Frank’s clothing while this talk was
going on.
“I’m a good deal mussed up,” said Frank.
“We won’t go into that yard again in a hurry,” said Bob.
Frank was smoothing down his coat. He happened to feel in his pockets
to see if everything was safe.
“Hello!” he cried, suddenly.
“What’s the matter?” asked Bob.
“The key.”
“What about it?”
“It’s gone! You saw me put it in my pocket on our way here.”
“Yes.”
“It must have fallen out of my pocket over in the yard there.”
“Think so? Oh, say, Mr. Dolby!” called out Bob.
“Well, what is it?” asked the old man, who was just going back into the
house.
“I wish you would chain up that dog of yours for a few minutes.”
“What for?”
“Frank has lost a key in your yard, and he wants to find it.”
“Key to what?” growled old Dolby.
“To my father’s jewelry store,” explained Frank.
“What were you doing with it?”
“My uncle asked me to take it up to the house.”
“Huh! You’re making a great lot of trouble.”
Mr. Dolby picked up a heavy club off the porch and started after
the dog. When the animal dodged his blows he flung the club at him,
striking him on the ribs. The dog howled with pain, slunk into his
kennel, and then his master chained him up.
The boys now came into the yard. They looked and groped all over the
garden where Frank had backed away from the dog. Silas Dolby stood
watching them.
“Give it up,” at length spoke Frank.
“Yes, we’ve gone over the ground pretty well,” said Sammy.
“Perhaps I lost the key before I came here,” added Frank. “Thank you,
Mr. Dolby.”
The old miser only grunted and scowled. The boys started for home.
As they came to the next corner Bob chanced to look back. He hung
behind his chatting companions for a moment or two.
“That’s queer again,” he said to himself.
He had seen a man turn into the Dolby place. It was only a glimpse he
had of the fellow, but Bob was quite startled.
“Hey, what are you lagging behind for?” called out Sammy, briskly.
“Pshaw!” mused Bob, “I’ve got my head so full of that tramp, I take
every stranger I see for him. It couldn’t have been him I just saw go
into Dolby’s. And if it was, what of it?”
With that Bob let the subject drift out of his mind. He joined his
chums, who were gaily talking over their plans for the big bonfire on
the beach of Rainbow Lake that night.