WHAT ASA DICKLEY HAD TO SAY
Dave read the letter received from Mr. Asa Dickley with much interest.
He went over it twice, and as he did so the second time his mind
reverted to the communication received the morning before from Mr.
Wecks.
"What in the world does Mr. Dickley mean by writing to me in this
fashion?" he mused. "I haven't had anything from him in a long while,
and I don't owe him a cent. It certainly is a mighty strange
proceeding, to say the least."
Then like a flash another thought came into his mind--was Ward Porton
connected in any way with this affair?
"Somebody must have gotten some things in my name from Mr. Dickley,
and he must have gotten those shoes from Mr. Wecks, too. If the party
went there in person and said he was Dave Porter, I don't think it
could have been any one but Ward Porton, because, so far as I know,
he's the only fellow that resembles me."
Our hero was so much worried that he gave scant attention to the
letters received from Phil Lawrence and Shadow Hamilton, even though
those communications contained many matters of interest. He was
looking at the Dickley communication for a third time when his sister
entered.
"Well, Dave, no more bad news I hope?" said Laura, with a smile.
"It is bad news," he returned. "Just read that;" and he turned the
letter over to her.
"If you owe Mr. Dickley any money you ought to pay him," said the
sister, after perusing the epistle. "I don't think father would like
it if he knew you were running into debt," and she gazed anxiously at
Dave.
"Laura! You ought to know me better than that," he answered somewhat
shortly. "I never run any bills unless I am able to pay them. But this
is something different. It is in the same line with the one I got from
Mr. Wecks. I didn't get his shoes, and I haven't gotten anything from
Mr. Dickley for a long time, and nothing at all that I haven't paid
for."
"Oh, Dave! do you mean it?" and now Laura's face took on a look of
worry. "Why, somebody must be playing a trick on you!"
"If he is, it's a mighty mean trick, Laura. But I think it is more
than a trick. I think it is a swindle."
"Swindle?"
"Exactly. And what is more, do you know who I think is guilty?"
"Why, who could be guilty?" The sister paused for a moment to look at
her brother. "Oh, Dave! could it be that awful Ward Porton?"
"That's the fellow I fasten on. Didn't we meet him in Clayton? And
that's only six miles from Coburntown. More than likely that rascal
has been hanging around here, and maybe getting a whole lot of things
in my name." Dave began to pace the floor. "It's a shame! If I could
get hold of him I think I would have him locked up."
"What are you going to do about this letter?"
"I'm going to go to Coburntown the first chance I get and tell Mr.
Dickley, and also Mr. Wecks, the truth. I want to find out whether the
party who got those things procured them in person or on some written
order. If he got them on a written order, somebody must have forged my
name."
"Hadn't you better tell father or Uncle Dunston about this?"
"Not just yet, Laura. It will be time enough to worry them after I
have seen Mr. Wecks and Mr. Dickley. Perhaps I can settle the matter
myself."
Dave was so upset that it was hard for him to buckle down to his
studies; and he was glad that evening when an interruption came in
the shape of the arrival of his old school chum and fellow engineering
student, Roger Morr.
"Back again! And right side up with care!" announced the senator's
son, as he came in and shook hands. "My! but I've had a busy time
since I've been away!" he replied in answer to a question of Dave's.
"I had to settle up one or two things for father, and then I had to go
on half a dozen different errands for mother, and then see to it that
I got those new text books that Mr. Ramsdell spoke about. I got two
copies of each, Dave, and here are those that are coming to you," and
he passed over three small volumes. "And that isn't all. I just met
Ben Basswood at the depot where he was sending a telegram to his
father, who is in Chicago. Ben had some wonderful news to tell."
"What was that?" asked Laura and Jessie simultaneously.
"He didn't give me any of the particulars, but it seems an old friend
of theirs died out in Chicago recently, and Mr. Basswood was sent for
by some lawyers to help settle the estate."
"Yes, we know that much," broke in Dave. "But what's the new news?"
"Why, it seems this man, Enos, died quite wealthy, and he left almost
his entire estate to Mr. Basswood."
"Is that so!" cried Dave. "That sure is fine! I don't know of anybody
who deserves money more than do the Basswoods," and his face lit up
with genuine pleasure.
"It will be nice for Ben," said Jessie, "and even nicer for Mrs.
Basswood. Mamma says there was a time when they were quite poor, and
Mrs. Basswood had to do all her own work. Now they'll be able to take
it easy."
"Oh, they are far from poor," returned Dave. "They've been living on
'Easy Street,' as the saying goes, for a number of years. Just the
same, it will be a fine thing for them to get this fortune."
"There was one thing about the news that Ben didn't understand,"
continued Roger. "His father telegraphed that the estate was a
decidedly curious one, and that was why the lawyers wanted him to come
to Chicago immediately. He added that Mr. Enos had proved to be a very
eccentric individual."
"Maybe he was as eccentric as that man in Rhode Island I once read
about," said Dave, with a grin. "When he died he left an estate
consisting of about twelve thousand ducks. This estate went to two
worthless nephews, who knew nothing at all about their uncle's
business. And, as somebody said, the two nephews very soon made 'ducks
and drakes' of the whole fortune."
"Oh, what a story!" cried Jessie, laughing. "Twelve thousand ducks!
What ever would a person do with them?"
"Why, some duck farms are very profitable," returned Roger.
"You don't suppose this Mr. Enos left such a fortune as that to Mr.
Basswood?" queried Laura.
"I'm sure I don't know what the fortune consists of. And neither did
Ben. He was tremendously curious to know. And he said his mother could
hardly wait until Mr. Basswood sent additional information," replied
Roger.
"Ben told me that this Mr. Enos was once a partner of his father in
business, the two running an art store together. Enos was very much
interested in art; so it's possible the fortune he left may have
something to do with that," added Dave.
As my old readers know, Roger Morr had always thought a great deal of
Laura; and of late his liking for her had greatly increased. On her
part, Dave's sister had always considered the senator's son a very
promising young man. Consequently, it can well be imagined that the
four young people spent a most enjoyable time that evening in the
mansion. The girls played on the piano and all sang, and then some
rugs were pushed aside, a phonograph was brought into action, and they
danced a number of the latest steps, with the older folks looking on.
Roger was to remain over for several days at Crumville, and early the
next morning Dave asked his chum if he would accompany him on a hasty
trip to Coburntown. He had already acquainted Roger with the trouble
he was having with the shoe-dealer and the man who sold men's
furnishings.
"We can take a horse and cutter and be back before lunch," said Dave.
"I'll be glad to go," answered the senator's son. "I haven't had a
ride in a cutter this winter."
They were soon on the way, Dave this time driving a black horse that
could not only cover the ground well, but was thoroughly reliable. By
ten o'clock they found themselves in Coburntown, and made their way to
the establishment run by Asa Dickley. The proprietor of the store was
busy with a customer at the time, and a clerk came forward to wait on
the new arrivals.
"I wish to speak to Mr. Dickley," said Dave; and he and Roger waited
until the man was at leisure. Mr. Dickley looked anything but pleasant
as he walked up to our hero.
"I got a very strange letter from you, Mr. Dickley. I can't understand
it at all," began Dave.
"And I can't understand why you treat me the way you do," blurted out
the shopkeeper. "You promised to come in here and settle up over a
week ago."
"Mr. Dickley, I think there is a big mistake somewhere," said Dave, as
calmly as he could. "I don't owe you any money, and I can't understand
why you should write me such a letter as this," and he brought forth
the communication he had received.
"You don't owe me any money!" ejaculated Asa Dickley. "I just guess
you do! You owe me twenty-six dollars."
"Twenty-six dollars!" repeated Dave. "What is that for?"
"For? You know as well as I do! Didn't you come in here and get a
fedora hat, some shirts and collars and neckties, and a pair of
fur-lined gloves, and a lot of underwear? The whole bill came to just
twenty-six dollars."
"And when was this stuff purchased?" went on Dave.
"When was it purchased? See here, Porter, what sort of tom-foolery is
this?" cried Asa Dickley. "You know as well as I do when you got the
things. I wouldn't be so harsh with you, only you promised me
faithfully that you would come in and settle up long before this."
"Mr. Dickley, I haven't had any goods from you for a long, long
time--and what I have had I have paid for," answered Dave, doing his
best to keep his temper, because he knew the storekeeper must be
laboring under a mistake. "As a matter of fact, I haven't been in your
store for several months."
"What!" ejaculated the storekeeper. "Do you mean to deny that you
bought those goods from me, young man?"
"I certainly do deny it. As I said before, I haven't been in this
store for several months."
At this plain declaration made by Dave, Mr. Asa Dickley grew fairly
purple. He leaned over his counter and shook his clenched fist in
Dave's face.
"So that is the way you are going to try to swindle me out of my
money, is it, Dave Porter?" he cried. "Well, let me tell you, it won't
work. You came here and got those goods from me, and either you'll
pay for them or I'll sue your father for the amount. Why, it's
preposterous!" The storekeeper turned to his clerk, who was gazing
on the scene in open-mouthed wonder. "Here a customer comes in and
buys a lot of goods and I am good-hearted enough to trust him to the
amount, twenty-six dollars, and then he comes here and declares to
my face that he never had the things and he won't pay for them. Now
what do you think of that, Hibbins?"
"I think it's pretty raw," responded the clerk.
"Weren't you in the shop when I let Porter have some of those goods?"
"I certainly was," answered Hibbins. "Of course, I was in the rear,
sorting out those new goods that had come in, so I didn't see just
what you let him have; but I certainly know he got some things."
"Mr. Dickley, now listen to me for a minute," said Dave in a tone of
voice that arrested the man's attention in spite of his irascibility.
"Look at me closely. Didn't the fellow who got those things from you
look somewhat different from me?"
Dave faced the storekeeper with unflinching eyes, and Asa Dickley was
compelled to look the youth over carefully. As he did this the
positive expression on his face gradually changed to one of doubt.
"Why, I--er--Of course, he looked like you," he stammered. "Of course
you can change your looks a little; but that don't count with me.
Besides, didn't you give me your name as Dave Porter, and ask me if I
didn't remember you?"
"The fellow who got those goods may have done all that, Mr. Dickley.
But that fellow was not I. I may be mistaken, but I think it was a
young man who resembles me, and who some time ago made a great deal of
trouble for me."
"Humph! That's a fishy kind of story, Porter. If there is such a
person he must look very much like you."
"He does. In fact, some people declare they can hardly tell us
apart."
"What's the name of that fellow?"
"Ward Porton."
"Does he live around here?"
"I don't know where he is living just at present. But I saw him day
before yesterday in Clayton. I tried to stop him, but he ran away from
me."
The storekeeper gazed at Dave for a moment in silence, and then pursed
up his lips and shook his head decidedly.
"That is too much of a fish story for me to swallow," he said harshly.
"You'll either have to bring that young man here and prove that he got
the goods, or else you'll have to pay for them yourself."