CHAPTER IV.

ROWE SHELLY, THE RUNAWAY.

"Just one more word, Mr. Officer," continued Joe Wayring, when he had

seen his discomfited friend Arthur vanish in the crowd, "and then I

will cease troubling you."

"Be in a hurry, then," was the gruff rejoinder. "Don't say anything to

confirm the suspicion I have that you are trying to make game of me,

for if you do you will spend the rest of the night under lock and key,

sure pop."

"I assure you that my only desire is to gain some reliable information

regarding my missing friend," answered Joe, choking back his wrath.

"What precinct does this man Babcock belong to?"

"He doesn't belong to any. He is a private detective, and works

wherever he is called."

"What agency does he belong to?"

"Wilcox's; two-thirty-four Bank street."

"Thank you. That's one point gained. I suppose he will report the

arrest at his own headquarters, will he not?"

"Very likely he will, and I'll report it to my captain."

"I wasn't aware that a private detective could make an arrest without a

warrant, except in cases where there is a fight or some other violation

of the public peace. I thought he was obliged to call upon a policeman."

"Well, wasn't I here?" exclaimed the officer, with some indignation in

his tones. "I want you to understand that I know my business, and that

you nor nobody like you can teach it to me. Move on. I've had enough of

you."

"All right," replied Joe cheerfully. "But first allow me to apologize

for troubling you, and to thank you for your courteous answers to my

questions."

If this was intended for sarcasm it had no effect whatever upon the

policeman, who walked off with a very dignified step, while Joe moved

on to find Arthur Hastings. He discovered him in the reading-room

of the hotel, holding an earnest conversation with a young fellow in

citizen's clothes. It was Rowe Shelley; but when he left his uniform in

his room he seemed to have left with it nearly all the resemblance he

had once borne to Roy Sheldon. Joe could see now that the two boys did

not look so very much alike after all.

"I want to assure you of one thing, Wayring," said Rowe, as Joe seated

himself in a chair by his side; "what that policeman told you about

my stealing a lot of money before I left home, is utterly false. The

little I have with me is what I have managed to save during the last

two years out of my regular allowance. I have the best of reasons for

believing that every cent there is in that house rightfully belongs to

me, but I have never touched any of it except when it was given to me."

"Are there any stores on the island?" inquired Joe.

Rowe replied that there were not. The entire island was claimed by his

guardian, who said he was Rowe's uncle, although he was no relation to

him. Besides the family mansion, and the barns and other out-buildings

that belonged to it, there were four tenement houses that were occupied

by his guardian's hired help.

"And I know they are not hired simply to work the place and keep the

grounds in order," said Rowe bitterly. "They are employed to keep an

eye on me, although they do not seem to pay any attention to me. When I

had saved a little money and began laying my plans to skip out, there

was not one among them to whom I could go for help, or whom I dared

take into my confidence. I had to depend upon myself."

"Then what was the use of a regular allowance of money if you couldn't

spend it?" inquired Arthur.

"I could save it for an emergency like this, couldn't I? Besides,

whenever I wanted anything, I could send for it by some one who was

coming to the city. Did you learn anything more about your missing

friend? Hastings tells me that there is no doubt he was mistaken for me

and sent away in that carriage."

"That is what I think," answered Joe. "I know the name of the detective

who arrested him, as well as the agency to which the detective belongs.

It's Wilcox's, two-thirty-four Bank street, and there's where we must

go the first thing in the morning."

"Great Scott!" cried Arthur. "Can't we do anything for Roy before

morning? Must he be put in a cell and--"

"By no means," exclaimed Rowe. "Your friend will fare as well at my

home as you will here at a hotel. Beyond a doubt my guardian's steam

yacht was in waiting at one of the piers along the river side, and

Roy is probably half way to the island by this time. Of course the

detective will stay with him till he gets there, for fear that Roy will

jump overboard or do some other desperate thing to escape from Willis."

"Who is Willis?"

"He is my guardian's superintendent and my jailer. At least, that is

what I call him, although he is very friendly to me, and has seldom

interfered with me. When I ran away two years ago, he followed me up

and put the detectives on my track. I'd got away sure, if it hadn't

been for him."

"Of course if Babcock goes to the island he can't report the arrest to

his superior before morning," said Joe, turning to Arthur. "So what's

the use in going there (to the agency, I mean) before we can learn

something?"

"I don't see why you should go to the agency, or give yourselves the

least uneasiness about the matter," said Rowe. "As soon as Willis has

taken a good look at Roy, he will know that the detectives has made

a mistake, and then he will lose no time in setting his prisoner at

liberty and sending him back to the city."

"We'll call upon Mr. Wilcox the first thing in the morning," said Joe,

decidedly. "At least Art and I will, and you had best pack your bundle

and dig out before daylight. As soon as your guardian finds out that--"

"He isn't at home," interrupted Rowe. "He has gone away somewhere on

business, and that's why I am here. I took advantage of his absence."

"At any rate the search for you will be renewed when it becomes known

that a mistake has been made, and if I were in your place I would not

stay here. I think you were very imprudent to come to the city at all."

"That's because you don't know what extraordinary precautions I took to

make everybody think I was going the other way," replied Rowe.

"But it seems that the tricks to which you resorted, whatever they

were, did not work," said Arthur. "This man Willis, who probably runs

things during your guardian's absence, must have come to the city or

sent word to some one to be on the watch for you. If he didn't do one

or the other, how does it come that Roy was molested? Joe, what course

are you going to follow when you get to the agency?"

"I'm simply going to tell the man in charge that one of his detectives

has made a blunder and arrested Roy Sheldon when he thought he was

arresting some one else, and ask him to undo his night's work and bring

our friend back to us as quick as he knows how."

"But he'll want evidence, won't he?"

"I shall be provided with the evidence," replied Joe quietly. "Rowe,

you wouldn't mind writing a couple of letters, one to your guardian's

superintendent and the other to the detective, stating the facts, would

you?"

"Why--why, I don't see how I can do it without putting the detectives

on my own track," stammered Rowe, who was very much astonished at this

proposition. "I'd have to sign my right name to the letters, wouldn't

I?"

"Certainly. A fictitious name would be of no use to us, and we'll see

that you don't get into trouble by it. Write the letters containing a

full statement of the case, make yourself scarce about here without

telling us where you are going, and then we can't answer any questions

that may be asked us. If he don't do it," added Joe mentally, "the only

thing I can do is to bring in some of father's business friends and

Uncle Joe's to vouch for us, and add weight to our story. I am opposed

to that, and I believe Roy himself would kick against it; for of course

those friends would write the full particulars to the folks at home,

and that would knock our trip across the State into a cocked hat."

"If he doesn't do it," said Arthur to himself, seeing that Rowe still

hesitated, "he will find that we are not to be trifled with. I'll

denounce him as soon as I can find anybody to denounce him to. He got

Roy into this scrape, and it is no more than fair that he should help

get him out."

"Is there no other way in which I can assist you?" inquired Rowe, after

a long pause.

"There is none that occurs to me just now," answered Joe. "Can you

think of any?"

"I can't think of anything. My mind is in a whirl, and has been ever

since I left the island."

"I thought as much," said Arthur, drily. "Otherwise you would never

come to the city and put up at wheelmen's headquarters. Don't you

know that this is the very hotel of all others that you ought to have

shunned?"

"I thought the very boldness of the thing would throw my pursuers, if I

had any, off the track; and I believe it did, for I have seen no one to

be afraid of since I came here. Do you think the chief detective will

be ready to undo this work when you ask him?" added Rowe, addressing

himself to Joe.

"I think he will. I would, if I were in his place, for it would hurt

my business to have it get out. If people knew that Wilcox kept such a

blunderhead as that Babcock about, they would not be apt to give him

much to do."

"All right. It shall be as you say," exclaimed Rowe, getting upon his

feet and hastening into the office, whence he presently returned with a

couple of envelopes and as many sheets of paper in his hand. "Have you

any influential friends in town?" he asked, as he seated himself at the

table.

"We've enough to make it exceedingly uncomfortable for those people on

the island if they don't turn that boy loose in a little less than no

time," replied Arthur, with emphasis. "Tell your man Willis to put that

in his pipe."

"He'll not need any such threat to quicken his movements," said Rowe,

with a smile, the first one Joe had seen on his face that evening.

"When he discovers that Babcock has not brought him the right boy, he

will be only too glad to get rid of him. But I'll put it in."

After a few minutes spent in rapid writing Rowe handed Joe the

following, which was addressed to George Willis, Shelly's Island, New

London Harbor:

"You have probably found out by this time that the man Babcock, whom

you notified to be on the lookout for me, has made a mistake that

is likely to get him and every one concerned in it into serious

difficulty. He has made a prisoner of Roy Sheldon, who lives in Mount

Airy. He has friends there, as well as in this city, who will make it

hot for you if you don't treat him well while he is on the island,

and send him back with the least possible delay. Tell my guardian,

when he returns, that I have grown weary of waiting for him to tell

me where my father and mother are, and have set out to find them. I

know I shall succeed this time, and then there will be a change of

administration on Shelly's Island, or I shall miss my guess.

"Now I should like to know what you mean by spreading the report that

I stole a lot of money before I went away. You know it to false. If

any of my money has disappeared (it is my money, mind you, and not

my guardian's) I would as soon think you took it as to accuse anybody

else.

"If you haven't sent that boy back already, do it as soon as you read

this, if you don't want to have some papers served on you."

"Is that satisfactory?" inquired Rowe, as Joe passed the letter to

Arthur.

"Perfectly. If Willis fails to understand it, it will not be your

fault. But why don't you get another guardian and put it out of this

man's power to harass you with detectives every time you leave the

island?"

"I wish to goodness I could; but I can't. The law put him where he is."

"And the law can take him out. When he was appointed your guardian he

must have perjured himself if he swore that he was your next of kin.

But here's a question: Do you know that your parents are still alive?"

"No; I don't know it, but I think so. I do know, however, that my

father was not lost at sea, as my guardian reported. Since that time

people who know him have seen and talked with him. He was alive when I

tried to find him two years ago."

"Where does he live?"

"Somewhere in the State of Maryland. On the coast, I suppose, for he is

fond of the water, and has been a sailor all his life."

"Now just think a moment," said Joe, earnestly. "Can't you see that

you show a wonderful lack of _something_ in starting off on your wheel

to hunt a needle in a haystack? You must remember that Maryland has an

area of more than eleven thousand square miles, not counting in the

bay, which has a coast line three hundred and eighty miles in length.

You have set yourself something of a job, old fellow."

"So I have," said Rowe nervously. "Do you know, I never once thought of

that? There was but one idea in my mind, and that was to get safely off

the island and away from New London, so that I could hide myself among

strangers. Then, after the excitement had had time to die away, and my

guardian had given up looking for me, I thought it would be the easiest

thing in the world to run down into Maryland and find my parents. It

wouldn't be too long a run, would it? I think I have heard of a man who

went from San Francisco to Boston on his wheel."

"No doubt you did; and that man, if you are thinking of the same one I

am, is now on his way around the world. The run wouldn't trouble you,

but finding the objects of your search would not be so easy as you seem

to think. You have gone about it in the wrong way."

"How would you act, if you were in my place?"

"My first hard work would be to rid myself of that guardian," exclaimed

Joe.

"Haven't I told you that he was appointed by the court?"

"Of course he was, or else he could not have slipped into the position.

But you were too young to have any voice in the matter. You are older

now than you were then, and have reached an age when the law says you

are capable of choosing your own guardian."

Howe became greatly excited when he heard this. He threw his pen upon

the table, jumped to his feet, and paced the floor with long and rapid

strides.

"I hope you know what you are telling me," said he, as soon as he could

say anything.

Joe replied that he was sure of his ground.

"How shall I go to work?" continued Rowe. "What shall I do first?"

"Go to some honest lawyer, tell him your story just as you have told

it to us, going rather more into details, and he will tell you what to

do. If you give the case into his hands, he will probably advertise for

your people. He'll not start off alone to hunt them up, unless he knows

pretty near where they are; I can tell you that much."

"And will the law really help me to rid myself of that man?" cried

Rowe, as if he could hardly believe it. "And will I have my father and

mother to live with me, and be free to come and go, as other fellows

do? It seems too good to be true. Why didn't you tell me this long ago?"

"I have been on the point of telling you half a dozen times," answered

Joe, "but somehow I always got switched off on another track. You know

it now, and if you remain shut up any longer deprived of your rights,

it will be your own fault."

"I shall not let the grass grow under my feet, I assure you," said

Rowe, seating himself at the table and once more taking up his pen. "I

shall not leave the city until this thing has been settled. How would

it do to add a line to the letter I have written to Willis?"

"Telling him what you intend to do?" exclaimed Joe. "I wouldn't. Spring

it on 'em and take them by surprise before they have a chance to run

away with any of the money. If the man who claims to be your uncle got

his position by fraud, he wouldn't be above cheating you if he saw an

opportunity to do it without detection."

It was much harder work for Rowe to write this letter than it was to

write the first, because he was so nervous and excited that he could

scarcely hold his pen steady. But he finished it at last, and handed it

over to Joe to read. It was much the same as the other, except that

there was no allusion made to the story that Willis or somebody else

had spread abroad, that Rowe had appropriated a sum of his guardian's

money to help him in his runaway scheme. Then the letters were sealed,

stamped and addressed, and Joe went out to put them into the box.

He wanted them to reach their destination as soon as possible; and

furthermore, he intended to allow the one that was addressed to the

detective ample time to have an effect before he called at the agency

on the following morning. They had done all that could be done that

night, and when Joe went back to the reading-room he announced his

intention of going to bed.

"Then I will bid you good-by, for it is not at all likely that I shall

be here when you come down in the morning," said Rowe, shaking each of

them cordially by the hand. "If you only knew what a terrible load you

have lifted from my heart by the friendly encouragement and advice you

have given me, you would believe me when I say that I am glad to have

met you, and sorry indeed that your friend got into trouble through me.

Please say as much, to him when you see him, and add that I shall live

in hopes of some day making his acquaintance. I suppose you can't tell

me where to address you in case I should have anything interesting to

communicate?"

Joe was sorry to say that he could not; for although their proposed

route had been marked out in their road-book before they left home,

there was no certainty that they would stick to it. But he and his

friends would like much to know how Rowe succeeded in his efforts to

assert his rights, and a letter addressed to them at Mount Airy would

follow them until it caught them. There were their cards. Good-night

and good luck!

"He's a simple-hearted fellow and totally unused to the ways of the

world; and although he hasn't got much sense to boast of in some

things, he can sling ink better than I can," said Arthur, as he and Joe

ascended to their rooms. "Do you suppose he has ever been to school?"

"No, I don't. He had a private teacher."

"Then why didn't he make a confidant of him?"

"Because he was afraid to. Perhaps his teacher was some

poverty-stricken scholar, who was told to keep his mouth, eyes and ears

closed as long as he remained on the island, and was well paid for

doing it. More than that, the guardian was careful to tell his side of

the story first, so that the tutor would be likely to take anything

Rowe said to him with a grain or two of allowance."

"It does not seem possible that such things can happen in this day and

age of the world," said Arthur reflectively. "That fellow told us a

strange story, and I shall do as I please about believing it until we

hear from Roy Sheldon. Well, good-night. Call me when you get up."

The first thing the two friends did when they went down to the office

in the morning was to inquire for Robert Barton; for you will remember

that that was the name the runaway signed to the register.

"He left a message for you to the effect that he had decided to take

the night boat for Bloomingdale," replied the clerk. "He will put in

the time visiting friends there until you arrive."

"That means that Rowe Shelly has gone into hiding somewhere in the

city," said Joe, as he followed Arthur into the dining-hall. "Of course

he wouldn't be foolish enough to say that he was going up the river on

a steamer if he really meant to do it."

"I don't know whether he would or not," answered Arthur, doubtfully.

"He acknowledges to doing a great many foolish things. Putting up at

this hotel was one of them."

After eating a very slender breakfast the boys inquired the way to Bank

street, and left the hotel to obtain an interview with Mr. Wilcox.

About half an hour later a carriage was driven up to the sidewalk, and

a boy clad in a bicycle uniform got out and hurried into the hotel;

but I doubt if such a boy and such a uniform had ever been seen in the

Lafayette House before. He seemed anxious to escape observation, for

it was not until he had concealed himself behind one of the wide front

doors that he stopped to pay his hackman. Then he stepped up to the

desk and looked at the astonished clerk with his right eye. He wore a

handkerchief over the other one, and there was a suspicion of blood

on the handkerchief. One sleeve of his shirt had disappeared, and so

had his cap; and when the clerk came to take a second look at him, he

saw that, although his uniform was dry, it looked as though it had been

dumped in the harbor--as indeed it had.

"Well, well," exclaimed the clerk, as soon as he had in some measure

recovered from his astonishment. "What in the world have you been doing

to yourself, Mr.--ah--er--Barton?" he added, consulting the register to

make sure of the name. "Did the steamer sink or burn up?"

"What steamer? I don't know anything about a steamer."

"Why, didn't you tell the clerk whom I relieved that you were going to

take the night boat for Bloomingdale?"

"Not much I didn't. I wasn't here last night, and furthermore, my

name isn't Barton. There's my name, Roy Sheldon; and I came to town

yesterday afternoon in company with that fellow and that one," said the

new-comer, pointing out Joe's name and Arthur's.

"Then, who was the chap who left a message for Wayring and Hastings?"

exclaimed the puzzled clerk.

"I'm sure I don't know. Did he beat you out of anything?" inquired

Roy, thinking of the swindler who had tried to palm off those bogus

greenbacks upon him and his friends.

"Oh, no! He settled up all fair and square, and said he would wait

for Wayring and Hastings at Bloomingdale. It couldn't have been your

brother, could it? He looked like you."

"Don't own any brother. Say," cried Roy, an idea striking him. "Wasn't

it Rowe Shelly?"

The clerk backed away from his desk and looked at Roy without speaking.

"I don't know who else it could have been, for I was mistaken for him,

kidnapped, and carried over to the island, and just escaped being taken

to sea by the skin of my teeth," continued Roy, growing excited as he

thought of it. "Rowe must have been here and scraped an acquaintance

with my friends, or he wouldn't have left a message for them. I did say

I would make trouble for somebody if I ever got ashore, but since I

have had time to think the matter over, I am not as mad as I was. Did

it blow much here last night and early this morning? Well, I was out in

the whole of it."

"Do you mean to say that that fool Rowe Shelly has run away from home

again?" said the clerk, as if he could hardly believe the story.

"He has run away, but I don't know whether he's a fool or not. I am

inclined to think he isn't. Where are those friends of mine?"

The clerk didn't know. They left the hotel after inquiring the way to

Bank street, but he couldn't tell what business they had on hand, or

how long they would be gone.

"They'll show up when they get ready," said Roy. "In the mean time, if

you will give me the key to forty-seven, I will go up and try to make

myself a little more presentable."

"What have you been doing to get yourself into such a plight?" asked

the interested clerk.

"The story is too long to be told in detail, and all I can say just

now is that I have had a time of it. But if Rowe got away I don't care.

I would go through as much more to help him, although he is a perfect

stranger to me. Don't say anything about this, please, for I positively

decline to be interviewed. I don't want my folks to hear of it, for

fear they will order me home," added Roy to himself. "That's the plain

English of the matter."

So saying he took his key and went up to his room.

The Steel Horse: The Rambles of a Bicycle · 第 4 / 18 章