AN INTERVIEW OF IMPORTANCE
Bright and early on the day of the game, Fred and Bronson had taken the
train for Manchester, the three hours' journey being whiled away in
speculation as to the cause of their summons and the showing Bart would
be able to make against Landon.
Arrived at the city, Bronson accompanied Fred to the firm for whom Mr.
Markham was working, and, after being introduced, left the father and
son together while he went to his home.
After so many months' separation from his family, Mr. Markham had a
veritable avalanche of questions to ask.
"Why did you send for me?" asked Fred, when at last he had a chance to
get in a word.
"Mr. Bronson wants to see you," replied his father mysteriously.
"Do you happen to know why he sent for Clothespin?"
"He will tell you, Fred."
"Then it's about the same thing?" cried Fred excitedly.
"Yes."
"Oh, father, please tell me!"
"It's a matter of great consequence to us," replied Mr. Markham. "But
just what Mr. Bronson had in mind, I don't know. I do know this,
though, he has taken a great liking to you. Indeed, it was what his
son wrote about your kindness when school opened that caused him to
reconsider his refusal to take my case."
"How do you know?"
"He told me so. Now, just amuse yourself with the paper for a few
minutes while I attend to some things, and then we are to lunch with
Mr. Bronson."
"At his home?"
"No; at his office."
"He must have a funny office if he can have lunch in it," observed Fred.
"He will have it sent in," smiled Mr. Markham. "You must remember you
are in the city, son--where money can do anything."
"But why doesn't he take us to his house? That would save expense."
"Because the matter is very important, and he wants to be assured of
absolute privacy. Besides, a man is not supposed to let his business
affairs intrude upon his home."
His curiosity only whetted--instead of gratified--by these replies,
Fred possessed himself in peace as best he could while he waited for
his father.
At last Mr. Markham was ready, and the two soon arrived at the office
of the distinguished lawyer, where they found Clothespin awaiting them
with his father and two men who immediately went to another room.
Cordially Mr. Bronson greeted Fred, congratulating him on knocking the
home run that beat Landon.
"I suppose you consider me very inconsiderate for insisting upon your
presence here to-day," he said, smiling as they all seated themselves
around the table which had been set in another room in the lawyer's
offices.
"Oh, the team can get along without _me_. It's Jim who'll be missed,"
replied the boy.
"Don't you believe it, father," returned the school pitcher. "Bart
Montgomery has more speed than I have. He won the game last year."
"He may have more speed, but he hasn't your control nor jump,
Clothespin," returned Fred. "Besides, he gets rattled. Landon knows
that, and they'll certainly go after him with their tin horns."
"I'm sorry if I have jeopardized Baxter's chances of winning, but it
is just as well you boys should realize that business is of more
importance than baseball, or anything else," came from the lawyer.
"Furthermore, if your nine loses to-day, you still have an opportunity
to win on Saturday."
At the mention of business--the first reference that had been made to
the cause of their presence in Manchester--both boys pricked up their
ears. But to their disappointment, the lawyer turned the conversation
to other topics.
With the appetites of healthy young athletes, the lads did full justice
to the luncheon.
When all had finished, Mr. Bronson dismissed the waiter, requesting him
to send in the two men the Markhams had seen in the office.
"These are Mr. Howard and Mr. Abbot, Fred," said the lawyer, when the
men had entered. "They are investigators.
"The reason that I sent for you two boys is that I need help in a
matter concerning Mr. Markham's affairs, and I knew that I could trust
you implicitly. You mustn't even breathe a word of the matter to any
one.
"Charlie Gibbs is in Manchester for some purpose that Mr. Abbot and Mr.
Howard will soon learn. But he is here under a name not his own--that
of Henry Sanders.
"Fred, I want you to go to the Randolph Hotel and stay about the hotel
till you see Gibbs. When you do, go to him and address him by his
right name. He denied his identity day before yesterday.
"James, Abbot and Howard will be in the hotel also, but you must not
speak to them. They are to witness the meeting between you and Gibbs."
As the boys realized they were to play an important part in the
lawyer's plan to clear Mr. Markham's name, their eyes grew big with
excitement, and even Fred's father was surprised.
"But why do you need me, if Mr. Abbot and Mr. Howard are to be there?"
asked young Bronson.
"Because courts sometimes have a prejudice against the testimony of
professional investigators," replied his father. "Having seen Gibbs,
you know him."
Though both boys were consumed with anxiety to learn what bearing the
identification would have upon the case, they understood the nature of
the lawyer too well to ask questions.
"Here is ten dollars for your expenses," continued Mr. Bronson, handing
the money to Fred.
"But I won't need that much," protested the boy.
"You may--in case you are obliged to stay at the hotel a day or so.
Now, go right over there."
"What shall I say if Charlie Gibbs asks me what I am doing in
Manchester?" inquired Fred.
"Say you are looking for work," replied his father. "When you see him,
be sure and shake hands with him. That will make the identification
more complete; won't it, Bronson?"
"Yes, that's a good idea."
Eager to begin his watch, Fred hastened to the hotel, and dropped into
a chair near the elevator, where he proceeded, apparently, to read a
newspaper, though in reality he was looking over its edge at the people
who passed before him.
Scarcely had he seated himself than he saw the two investigators enter,
and finally Clothespin, all three of whom took chairs whence they could
watch Fred.
When evening came without Gibbs, the boy saw Howard approach the hotel
desk and heard him ask if Mr. Sanders had left.
"No; he's still here," replied a clerk, "but he's out."
At ten o'clock Fred took a room, returning to his vigil early the next
morning. As before, Howard inquired for Sanders, and learned that he
had not returned to the hotel the previous night.
The day and evening passed without his appearing, and when Friday also
went by without a sight of Montgomery's brother-in-law, the boys became
uneasy.
They had learned of Landon's victory, and each wanted to return to
Baxter in time for the deciding game.
As Fred was walking nervously up and down the lobby, just before six,
he saw the object of his search enter the hotel, go to the desk, and
then start toward the elevator.
"Why, hello, Mr. Gibbs!" exclaimed the boy from Baxter, suddenly
stepping forward.
At the name, Gibbs started, and cast a swift glance toward the hotel
desk to see if the clerks were looking toward him, finding to his
evident relief that they were not.
"Why, hello, Fred," he replied, with a poor attempt at a smile, and
limply shaking the hand the boy forced upon him, "what are you doing
_here_?"
"Came down to look for a job," replied Fred.
By this time, the man had recovered his composure.
"I should think you would have waited till after the game. But it's
just like a Markham to desert his friends when they need him," sneered
the man.
"Don't you mean a _Montgomery_, instead of a Markham?" asked Fred
meaningly.
But Charlie Gibbs never deigned a reply, and hurriedly entered the
elevator.
Smiling happily to himself, Fred lingered a few minutes in the hotel,
and then went outside, where he was quickly joined by Bronson and the
investigators, who congratulated him on his success and instructed him
to go to the lawyer's office.
But with their object accomplished, both boys began to think about
reaching Baxter in time to accompany the team.
"There's nothing more to keep us; is there, father?" asked James, after
the identification had been reported to Mr. Bronson and Mr. Markham.
"Nothing but dinner. Why?"
"Because we must get back and relieve Hal's mind."
"I'll telegraph him. You boys can go direct to Winthrop in the morning."
Fred's father, however, suggested that the long ride would tire them,
and it was finally arranged they should go that night to the scene of
the game, where, though they would arrive late, they could sleep until
noon, if they wished.
Accordingly, the boys wired Hal they would be at Winthrop in season to
play, and then passed a pleasant evening with their fathers.
"Tell your mother to keep up her cheer, Fred," said Mr. Bronson, as he
bade the boys good-night at the train.
"And tell her I'll be home for the Fourth of July," added his father.
Arrived at Winthrop at two in the morning, Fred and Bronson went to a
hotel, and were soon sound asleep.