AT THE DEPOT.
“And who’s Mr. Norton?” asked the farmer curiously.
“One of the Bayport diamond robbers.”
“Gee-gopher! you don’t say!”
“Yes; what did he want?”
“Wanted to know the right road to Chester.”
“And did he set off in that direction?”
“He did. I reckon he wanted to make the morning train for Philadelphia.”
“And when does that leave?”
“About ten o’clock.”
“Thank you. Come on, Ford. We have no time to lose.”
And we hurried off, leaving Farmer Holden standing by the fence, his
mouth wide open with astonishment.
Chester was a large city, some five miles distant. It was now half-past
eight, so we had no time to lose.
We walked rapidly. When about half the distance was covered a wagon
came along, and we got a ride for the balance of the way.
We jumped to the pavement as soon as we reached the main street. Ford
was in for going to the depot, and so off we started.
A moment later, as we turned a corner, I was nearly dumfounded to come
face to face with Mr. Norton, accompanied by Yates!
For one brief moment I was so taken aback that I could neither move nor
speak, and Ford seemed to be in the same condition.
“Mr. Norton!” I finally gasped.
“Reuben!” he replied.
“What does this mean?” demanded Yates.
He tried to act coolly, but it was not much of a success.
“It means that we have come to Chester to have you arrested,” put in
Ford.
“Arrested!”
“Exactly; you must consider yourselves prisoners.”
And he called out at the top of his voice,――
“Police! police!”
“This will never do!” cried Mr. Norton. “I am not to be captured in
this fashion.”
And with a sudden bound he sprang around the corner and darted away.
Seeing this, Yates tried to follow suit; but Ford’s grip was a good
one, and he held fast.
“Hang on to him, Dan!” I exclaimed. “Don’t let him go. I am going after
Mr. Norton!”
And not waiting to say more, I, too, dashed away.
Rounding the corner I saw my guardian fully a block up the street, and
running as fast as his long legs would permit. I gave chase, and soon
began to close the distance between us.
The street was a narrow one, and but few people were upon it. Had there
been a crowd, I would have had no trouble in getting some one to hold
him.
Mr. Norton was a good runner, and he made the best possible use of his
time. He darted here and there over a box and around a wagon, and it
was no mean job to keep him in sight.
The streets of Chester were comparatively strange to me; but I believe
they were also to him, so on that score we were equal.
In a few moments he had crossed a river that ran through the town.
There was a drawbridge over it; and no sooner had he passed than the
keeper began to open the draw for the purpose of allowing a vessel to
go through.
“Let me over!” I cried. “I am after a thief!”
“No, you don’t, young fellow!” was the grim reply. “That is an old
dodge.”
And the bridge-keeper continued to allow the bridge to swing around.
For an instant I paused in perplexity. What was to be done? If I waited
until the bridge was again in position, Mr. Norton would surely escape
me.
“I’ll venture it,” I muttered.
And stepping back, I rushed forward and cleared the distance from the
partly open draw to the opposite shore at a bound.
“Hi! hi! none of that!” cried the keeper in alarm; but I paid no heed.
Mr. Norton looked back to see what I would do. He was no doubt quite
dismayed to see me take the jump.
I raised the cry of “Stop, thief!” but it did no good, and made Mr.
Norton run faster than ever.
We went along this way about three blocks, and then he darted down a
dark alley. I paused but an instant, and then followed.
At the end was a high fence, and I entered just in time to see him
disappear over the top. I followed, and found myself in the rear of a
number of greenhouses.
I looked around, but Mr. Norton was not to be seen. There was a path
between the glass houses, and along this I picked my way as rapidly as
possible, satisfied that my guardian had passed on to the front.
Suddenly I was confronted by a tall and fierce-looking man.
“Hey, what are you doin’ here?” he demanded as he blocked my way.
“I am after a man that just jumped the back fence,” I replied.
And I tried to hurry on.
“Hold on! not so fast!” he cried, catching me by the shoulder. “How do
I know but what you ain’t one of them pesky flower thieves that’s been
a-botherin’ me so long?”
“I am not a thief, sir!” I exclaimed. “But I am after one, and every
second counts. Didn’t you see the man run through here just a moment
ago?”
“’Pears to me maybe I did,” replied the florist slowly. “Well, you can
go; but don’t let me catch you again, that’s all!”
And he shook his head decidedly.
Without waiting to reply I left, and made my way to the street. I had
lost several minutes arguing with the man, and now Mr. Norton was out
of sight.
On the curbstone I paused, undecided which way to proceed next.
“Looking for the man that run out of here?” asked a boy who sat on a
stoop near by whittling a boat with a jackknife.
“I am,” I replied quickly. “Which way did he go?”
“That way.” And the boy jerked his thumb in the direction.
Suddenly an idea popped into my head.
“Is the depot in that direction?” I questioned.
“Yes, sir.”
I was off as soon as the words were uttered. As I ran I heard a train
coming along at a lively rate; and this proved a guide to the spot.
I ran into the depot, and took a hasty look around. Mr. Norton was not
there, and a glance into the ladies’ room convinced me that he was not
in the building.