THE RETURN TO CRUMVILLE
"If Ward Porton got my cap and overcoat he must have been staying at
this hotel," said Dave, after the announcement made by Ben. "Let us
interview the proprietor without delay."
He and his chums hurried back into the hotel and there met not only
the proprietor but also his son.
"See here, have you anybody staying here who looks like me?" demanded
our hero of both of them.
"Sure, we've got a fellow who looks like you," declared the
hotel-keeper's son before his father could speak. "It's a Mr. Jones.
He has a room up on the third floor. He's here with an older man named
Brown."
"I wish you would take me up to their room!" cried Dave, quickly.
"Why! what's the matter now?"
"I want to find out whether that fellow is still here. If he is I want
him placed under arrest." And then Dave related a few of the
particulars concerning Ward Porton and his doings.
"That certainly is a queer story," remarked the hotel proprietor.
"I'll go upstairs with you."
He led the way, followed by Dave and his chums. The youths were much
astonished to see him halt at the door next to their own.
"They don't seem to be there, or otherwise they are sleeping pretty
soundly," remarked the hotel proprietor, after he had knocked on the
door several times.
"I guess you had better unlock the door," suggested Dave. "I rather
think you will find the room empty."
A key was secured from one of the maids and the door was opened. The
proprietor gave one look into the apartment.
"Gone!" he exclaimed. "Say! do you think they have run away?"
"That's just exactly what I do think," answered Dave. "And that fellow
who looks like me most likely took my cap and overcoat."
"And you say his name is Porton? He signed our register as William
Jones."
"Here's his hat and coat," announced Phil, opening the door to a
closet. "Pretty poor clothing he left you in return for yours, Dave,"
continued the shipowner's son, after an inspection.
The hotel proprietor was very wrathy, declaring that Porton and his
companion owed him for three days' board.
"They're swindlers, that's what they are!" he cried. "Just wait till I
land on them! I'll put them in jail sure!"
"I'd willingly give you that board money just to get my hands on Ward
Porton," announced Dave. He turned to his chums. "This sure is the
limit! First he goes to the stores and gets a lot of things in my name
and then he steals my hat and overcoat right from under my nose!"
"Yes, and that isn't the worst of it," declared Roger. "There is no
telling where he has gone; and even if you knew, in this awful storm
it would be next to impossible to follow him."
All went below, and there they continued to discuss the situation. In
the midst of the talk the girls came down, accompanied by Dr. Renwick
and his wife.
"Oh, Dave! you don't mean to tell me that that horrid Ward Porton has
been at more of his tricks!" cried Laura.
"Isn't it perfectly dreadful!" put in Jessie. "And to think he was
right in this hotel with us and we never knew it!"
"That's what makes me so angry," announced Dave. "If only I had
clapped my eyes on him!" he added regretfully.
"Well, there's no use of crying over spilt milk," declared Roger. "He
is gone, and so are Dave's overcoat and his cap, and that is all there
is to it."
"Speaking of milk puts me in mind of breakfast," put in Phil. "Now
that the others are downstairs don't you think we had better have
something to eat?"
All were agreeable, and soon they were seated at a large table in the
dining room, in company with the doctor and Mrs. Renwick. Here, while
eating their breakfast, they discussed the situation from every
possible standpoint, but without arriving at any satisfactory
conclusion.
"Porton must have seen us when we came up to the rooms," said Dave to
his chums. "He probably heard me speak about leaving my cap and
overcoat downstairs, and he just took a fiendish delight in walking
off with them and leaving his old duds behind. Oh, he certainly is a
peach!"
Had there been the slightest let-up in the blizzard, Dave and his
chums would have gone out on a hunt around the town for Porton and his
unknown companion. But with the wind blowing almost a hurricane, and
the snow coming down as thickly as ever, Dr. Renwick told them that
they had better remain indoors.
"It isn't likely that they stayed anywhere around here, fearing
detection," said the physician. "They probably put a good distance
between themselves and this hotel. And to go out in such a storm as
this might make some of you sick."
"Oh, well, what of that? We have a doctor handy," answered Dave,
whimsically. "Just the same, I guess we had better remain where we
are," he added, with a deep sigh.
It was not until the following morning that the wind died down and the
snow ceased to fall. In the meantime, the young folks did what they
could to entertain themselves, the girls playing on the piano in the
hotel parlor, and the boys later on taking them to the bowling alleys
next door and initiating them into the mysteries of the game. Dave was
a good bowler and so was Roger, each being able occasionally to make a
score of two hundred. But Ben and Phil could not do much better than
one hundred, while none of the girls got over eighty.
"Now that the snow has stopped falling, I suppose we had better try to
get back to Crumville," said Laura to her brother.
"Yes, we ought to get back," put in Jessie. "I suppose our folks are
dreadfully worried about us."
"It was too bad that you couldn't send some sort of word," came from
Belle. "If you could only do that we could stay here until the roads
were well broken."
"In the West we don't pretend to go out in such a storm," remarked
Cora Dartmore. "But, of course, our distances are greater, and we have
so few landmarks that it is an easy thing to get lost."
"I don't think we are going to get away from here in any great hurry,"
replied Dave. "It is true the snow has stopped coming down and the sun
is breaking through the clouds; but I am quite sure the drifts on the
road between here and Crumville are much higher than we can manage,
even with the powerful horses we have. We'll have to wait until the
roads are more or less broken."
Our hero was right about not getting away. They went down to the
stables and interviewed Washington Bones and several of the other
drivers present, and all agreed that it would not be possible to get
very far beyond the town limits. This news made the young folks chafe
considerably, but there was nothing to be done; so for another day
they had to content themselves as best they could. During that time
the boys did their best to send some message to Crumville, but without
success, for all of the telephone and telegraph wires were still down
and nothing had been done to mend them.
The next morning, however, things looked a little brighter. The
weather continued to improve, and several horse teams, as well as an
ox team, came through on the road from the direction of Crumville.
"The road ain't none too good so far as I could see," announced one of
the drivers to Dave. "But if you take your time and watch where you're
going, maybe you can get through."
"Oh, let us try it anyway!" cried Laura, who was present. "If we find
we can't make it we can come back here, or else stop at some other
place along the way."
It was finally agreed that they should make the effort, and they
started about ten o'clock. The sun was shining with dazzling
brilliancy on the snow, and with no wind blowing it was considerably
warmer than it had been on the journey to Lamont. All of the young
folks were in good humor, Dave for the time being dismissing from his
mind the trouble occasioned by the loss of his cap and overcoat.
As they drove away from the town they could see the effects of the
great wind. In some spots the road was almost bare of snow, while in
others there were drifts ten and twelve feet in height. To drive
through such drifts was, of course, impossible; so they had to make
long detours through the surrounding fields. At such places the
horses, of course, had to be driven with extra care, for no one
wanted the sleigh to land in some hole or be overturned. Occasionally,
when the turnout was on a dangerous slant, the girls would shriek and
the boys would hold their breath; but each time Washington Bones was
equal to the occasion and brought them through safely.
By noon they had covered five miles, and then they stopped to rest at
a village where all procured a good hot dinner. Then they went forward
once again, this time through a long patch of timber.
"If we gits through dat, we'll be all right," declared the colored
driver.
The snow lay deep in the woods, but the horses proved equal to the
occasion, and at last the timber was left behind and they came out on
a ridge road where the snow was only a few inches in depth. Here they
were able to make fairly good time, so that three o'clock found them
almost within sight of the outskirts of Crumville.
"We're going to make it easily," declared Ben. But he proved to be
mistaken, for a little distance farther on they ran again into the
deep snow and had to pass around one drift after another, finally
going clear across several fields to another highway. As a result it
was well after dark before they gained the road leading past the
Wadsworth jewelry works.
"Well, this looks like home, anyway," declared Dave to Jessie, as he
nodded in the direction of her father's establishment.
"Yes, and I'm glad of it," returned the girl. "Gracious! it seems to
me that we have been on the road for a week!"
"We can be thankful that we got through so easily, Jessie. Wash is
certainly some driver."
On account of another big drift they had to pass to still another
road, and this brought them finally to the street leading past the
Basswood home.
"If it's all the same to you folks, I'll get off at my place,"
announced Ben. "I suppose my father and mother are worrying about
me."
"Go ahead, Ben," returned Dave. And then he added quickly: "I trust
you find your father is better."
With a flourish Washington Bones drew up the panting horses in front
of the Basswood place. Just as Ben leaped from the sleigh the front
door of the house opened and Mrs. Basswood appeared.
"Ben! Ben! is that you?" cried the youth's parent, quickly.
"Yes, Mother," he answered cheerily. "Don't worry. I am all right."
Forgetful that she had on only thin shoes, and no covering over her
head or shoulders, Mrs. Basswood ran directly down to the big sleigh.
She glanced over the occupants and her eyes fastened instantly on
Dave.
"Dave, have you been with Ben since you went away?" she queried. "You
haven't been to our house?"
"Why certainly I haven't been here, Mrs. Basswood," he returned
promptly.
"Then it's true! It's true!" she wailed, wringing her hands.
"What's true, Mother?" demanded the son.
"The miniatures! They're gone! They have been stolen! That young man
who looks like Dave was here and took them away!"