MR. NORTON’S ACCUSATION.
“Mr. Norton!” I exclaimed as the man turned around.
He started as if shot, then straightened up, and looked at me coldly.
“My name is not Norton,” he replied in a low-pitched tone. “My name is
Edwards.”
“Scarcely,” I returned. “You are Mr. Enos Norton.”
“That is a cool assertion, young man.”
“Rather cool, but nevertheless true,” I replied boldly; for his voice
reassured me.
“Anybody would agree with me, I think, that a man ought to know his own
name best,” he replied pompously.
“That is true, and you know your name is Norton.”
“Edwards, sir; Stephen Edwards from Newark.”
“Mighty queer the boy is so positive you are somebody else,” put in the
conductor.
“Evidently the boy is a fool,” puffed the man, as he drew himself up.
“Yet I am not such a fool as to be deceived by you,” I returned warmly.
“Easy there, boy, or I will hand you over to――”
“Rather say that I will do the handing over,” I interrupted.
And to finish the farce, I reached out and pulled on the heavy beard.
It came off without much trouble, and Mr. Norton was revealed to the
gaze of the half-dozen passengers who had listened to our conversation.
“What do you mean by doing that?” he cried, catching me by the arm.
There was quite a titter of laughter among the people around.
“It means that I have exposed you,” I replied. “This is Mr. Enos
Norton,” I went on in a loud voice. “He is wanted by the police at
Bayport for the robbery of some diamonds.”
This announcement created quite a stir.
“It’s a lie!” roared Mr. Norton. “I am a jeweler from Newark.”
“What are you wearing a false beard for?” asked the conductor.
“I――I suffer from face-ache, and use it to prevent catching cold,” was
the lame excuse, which brought forth a laugh.
“I take it the boy is right,” said the conductor. “We will hand you
over to the police at Landown,” and he pulled the cord to stop at the
station which we were just approaching.
“This is an outrage!”
“I’ll run the risk. It’s against the law to be disguised.”
Mr. Norton continued to bluster, but no one paid any attention to him.
As soon as we had stopped at the railroad station the station-master
was informed of what had happened. He brought forth a stout rope,
and with this my guardian’s wrists were bound, despite his many
protestations.
Then the train rolled on, leaving me on the platform. Mr. Norton shook
his fist in my face.
“You shall suffer for this, Reuben!” he cried. “You will find it would
have been better to have allowed me to escape.”
A message was sent to the town constable and he soon appeared. He was
a pleasant man by the name of Walters, and he said he would drive us
back to Chester at once. He made a search of Mr. Norton’s clothing, and
brought forth a carefully wrapped bit of paper, containing his share of
the diamonds as they had been divided.
Mr. Norton gave a deep sigh as the constable put the precious stones
away where they would be safe; and he had very little to say as he
walked away from the depot and got into a wagon that was to take us to
Chester.
But on the way he grew more communicative, and entered freely into
conversation with the constable.
“Yes,” he said finally. “I might as well own up. I am guilty, and so
are three others.”
“And who are the others?” asked Mr. Walters, who knew but little about
the case.
“Yates who was caught in Chester; a man named――well, I won’t give you
his right name; and this boy here.”
“This boy!” cried the constable.
“I had nothing to do with it,” I put in warmly.
“But he did,” went on Mr. Norton. “Now that he has seen to it that I am
caught, I might as well tell the whole story. He had as much to do with
it as any one.”
“He doesn’t look like a bad boy,” ventured Mr. Walters.
“Nevertheless, he is, and a deep one too. Why, he even stole one of the
diamonds from the others before we had a chance to divide them evenly.”
It made me feel pretty bad to have Mr. Norton hurl his insinuations
at me in this fashion. Should he continue to do so, would I be able
to make the judge and the people at large think that I was entirely
innocent?
“There is not one word of truth in what he says,” I cried. “Mr.
Walters, he is a thoroughly bad man; and before his trial is over you
will find it so.”
“I am not speaking in defense of myself,” said Norton maliciously. “I
know I have done wrong; but it was only because this boy and his two
friends dragged me into it.”
I was nearly dumfounded by this audacious assertion, but before I could
utter a word Mr. Walters broke in,――
“Funny if the boy is guilty he didn’t skip out himself without trying
to arrest you.”
“Oh, he’s a deep one,” was Mr. Norton’s retort. “He knew that to do so
would make him appear innocent. He has a long head on his shoulders.”
“Well, that ain’t here or there. I’ll take you both along.”
After this there was a long spell of silence. I was busy thinking over
what my guardian had said, and wondering what would be the outcome of
his capture.
On reaching Chester, we drove at once to the police station. As we
alighted at the door, Ford came forth.
“Hullo!” he cried. “Well, this is lucky! I was just going back to
Loadhead to see if they had captured Avery. So you’ve got him?”
“Yes. Where is Yates?”
“The chief is getting ready to take him to Bayport.”
“Then he can take this man, and also the boy,” said Mr. Walters.
“Certainly the man, but why the boy?” asked Ford.
“The man accuses him of being an accomplice.”
“Accuses Reuben!” burst out Ford. “There is not a word of truth in it!
Why, that man tried to burn the boy up!”
Walters shrugged his shoulders.
“I must listen to what he says. Come, here is Chief Larkins now.”
In a moment more we were all in the station-house; and I told how Mr.
Norton had been captured; and Mr. Walters gave his knowledge of the
event. Then Yates was brought in, and the diamonds that had been found
upon the two were put in a safe place until they could be returned to
Bayport.
“Is this boy an accomplice of yours?” asked the chief of Yates.
“I have nothing to say,” growled the man.
And I found out later that such was the only reply he had made since he
had been captured.
“Of course the boy’s in the case,” said Mr. Norton. “He’s my nephew.”
“Are you?” asked Chief Larkins.
“I am; but the relationship doesn’t count for much.”
“I am his guardian, though he doesn’t seem to appreciate that fact.”
“You are not a guardian for any boy to be proud of,” put in Mr. Walters.
“He isn’t my guardian any longer. I have known him only a week, and I
have found him to be a thoroughly bad man. I want nothing to do with
him.”
There was considerable talk after this; and it was finally decided to
return to Bayport without delay, stopping at Loadhead on the way in
order to find out if Avery had been captured.