AT THE CLIFF HOUSE
"Well, why don't you ask him up?" inquired Pep, after a moment of
silence. "He's that quiet man we met on the train; isn't he?"
"Yes," replied Frank, his mind busy with many thoughts.
"Then have him up," added Hank Strapp. "This isn't any way to be
hospitable. We Westerners don't act that way. Tell him to come up,
boy!" he called to the messenger.
"Oh, sure, have him up by all means," assented Frank. "I wasn't
thinking about it, I guess."
"Too much upset over not getting that concession?" asked Randy.
"Some--yes," admitted Frank.
But, all the while, he was wondering what Mr. Bullard could want of
them. Frank felt sure it was something to do with Royston, and he was
not disappointed.
"I must apologize for bothering you," began Mr. Bullard, when he had
greeted the friends, "but I need some help, and I don't know to whom
else to appeal in this instance."
"If you're short of money," began Mr. Strapp, generously, thrusting his
hand into his pocket, "why, say the word and----"
"No, it isn't money," replied Mr. Bullard, with a smile, and a meaning
look at Frank. "I can get all that I need."
"You're lucky," observed Pep.
"Have you told them who I am?" asked the government man with a quick
look at Frank. The latter shook his head.
"What's this--more mystery?" inquired Pep. "Have we run up against
trouble out here, too?"
"Oh, this hasn't anything to do with us," spoke Frank, little realizing
how soon he and his friends were to be concerned with it, and what a
complication was to ensue. "I didn't tell you, because there wasn't any
need of it, and because he wanted to keep it quiet, but Mr. Bullard is
a government Secret Service man."
"Whew!" whistled Pep. "So that's what's in the wind. Well, I don't know
that he can arrest me for anything," he added with a laugh.
Hank Strapp looked at Ben Jolly, and both gazed rather reproachfully at
Frank. The latter felt the implied rebuke, and hastened to say:
"It wasn't my secret, so I couldn't let it out. But I guess the time
has now come," and he looked at Mr. Bullard for confirmation.
"Yes, there's no harm now in telling your friends who I am," said the
agent. "And I need your help. I think I am getting Royston where I want
him, but I have to drop out of matters for a time, and I need someone
to keep him in sight. I thought of asking you to do it, as you can
perhaps succeed better than any of my fellow agents."
"Royston!" cried Pep. "Has he been up to some tricks? What are you,
anyhow--a detective?" he asked, his eyes shining with elation.
"Something like that, you might say," replied the Secret Service man,
smiling.
Explanations followed, and Frank was reproached by his chums for
keeping back the secret, though the chaffing was only in fun.
"I wondered why Royston was getting so friendly with us, especially
after the experience he had with you in the bank," said Randy to Frank.
"Now I understand."
"I was afraid you fellows would tell him too much of our business,"
Frank responded, "but I didn't want to warn you against him, or tell
you Mr. Bullard was after him, for fear you'd act so oddly that he
would suspect something."
"I think he is entirely without suspicion, so far," put in the
government agent. "And I want to keep him so. But there have been
developments since coming to San Francisco that make me believe he
is trying to work some big swindle. I'd like to get evidence enough
against him to convict him, but it isn't going to be easy."
Thereupon he told the boys more details of the nature of the illegal
business of which Royston was at the bottom. The man, as I intimated,
made a specialty of organizing and exploiting questionable enterprises.
Some of these were pure "fakes," intended only to swindle the public.
Others were illegal in themselves, and were only a cloak for real
thieving operations.
But the man was "slick," as Hank Strapp expressed it, and, so far, had
succeeded in escaping arrest, though the government had been after him
a number of times. He always got away in time, or so changed the nature
of his enterprises as to come within the strict letter of the law.
"But now," said Mr. Bullard, in telling the story, "he is planning
something big. The trouble is, though, that I am afraid he suspects
me. I have been getting a little too friendly with him, in the hope of
getting evidence against him, and now he begins to draw back.
"That is just what I don't want him to do. If he escapes me now I
may never land him again. Of course I could turn the matter over to
another Secret Service man, but I don't like to do that after I have
been on the case so long, and have followed him across the continent. I
had much rather finish it, now that I have begun, and I think I can do
it, with your help."
"Then you can count on us!" cried the Westerner, with bluff heartiness.
"We're with you until the cows come home, and when Hank Strapp, that's
me, from Butte, Montana--when Hank Strapp says that, he means it. Put
her there, pardner!" and he held out a big hand, which Mr. Bullard
grasped.
"Oh! That's enough!" cried the government man, as he felt his fingers
crushed in a hearty grip. "I'll take your word for the rest of it, Mr.
Strapp."
"Pshaw now! I sure didn't mean to hurt you," apologized Hank. "But I've
got feelings, I have."
"So have I!" said Mr. Bullard, with a wry face, as he looked at his
numb fingers.
"I mean I feel friendly toward you," explained the Westerner.
"I appreciate it," responded the agent. "No more demonstrations
needed," and he laughed. "But I am glad you will help me. It means I
can still keep control of the case."
"Of course we'll help," said Randy. His chums nodded their assents.
Ben Jolly nodded his head to signify that he, too, would be with his
friends.
"But I hope it doesn't interfere with getting my new pipe organ," he
said with a sigh. "I really ought to be getting some practice, for I
haven't touched an organ since we left New York. Though if we're not to
have a concession at the fair I don't see much use of getting ready."
"What's that!" exclaimed Mr. Bullard. "Can't you carry out your plans
for opening a motion picture theatre here?"
"Not as we intended," explained Randy. "The best places, in fact the
only places, where we could open such a place in the Zone are gone. We
don't know what to do. But don't let us inflict our troubles on you.
How can we help you?"
"That's too bad," said Mr. Bullard, sympathetically. "Perhaps I may
be able to suggest a way out. I don't like to blow my own horn, but I
have quite a few friends in the government service, and you know the
government is doing a lot toward this exposition. I will take up that
matter for you."
"If you will, it will help a whole lot!" cried Pep, with eager
enthusiasm. "But now let's hear what we can do for you."
Mr. Bullard then explained matters. It is not necessary, at this time,
to go into details, which will be developed as the story progresses.
Sufficient to say that Mr. Bullard had gotten on the track of some
illegal operations planned by Royston, but the agent was not in a
position to further follow his man.
"So I'm going to depend on you new friends of mine," he said, nodding
at the motion picture chums.
"We'll do all we can for you," promised Hank Strapp. "I wish I had my
old lasso, and my forty-five----"
"I'm hoping it will not come to violent measures," said Mr. Bullard,
with a smile. "I like peaceful means so far as they can be used."
"Let Ben Jolly play him to sleep with a tune on the pipe organ and then
arrest him," suggested Pep with a laugh.
"No, I don't want him to go to sleep," objected Mr. Bullard. "I want to
get him in the very act--'with the goods,' as you boys say. And I think
I will, with your help. It is very good of you to offer."
Then he went into more details, which the boys carefully memorized. For
they did not want to put down anything on paper. In fact, Mr. Bullard
advised them against this.
"You can't tell what may become of a piece of paper," he said. "We have
often gotten evidence from the ashes of burned papers, and tearing up
documents is only making a little more trouble for whoever wants to
piece them together, and decipher their contents. Your memory is the
best document in the world, if it is properly trained."
The immediate matter in hand was this: that Royston was about to take
up his quarters at the historic Cliff House, where, so the agent
suspected, he was going to plan for one of the biggest swindles of his
career.
"And I'll need someone at the Cliff House on whom I can depend," the
Secret Service man resumed, "and who will understand how to play the
game. I know it's asking a good deal of you for some of you to go
there to get evidence, and I'd go myself, only, as soon as I make my
appearance there, Royston will be sure to suspect, I am afraid."
"We'll manage it, somehow," promised Mr. Strapp. "We intended to spend
some time there, anyhow, so it will not interfere with our plans. Now
as to details."
These were arranged, and it was agreed that Frank and Pep should pay a
preliminary visit to the Cliff House the next day.
Mr. Bullard then left, after thanking the boys for their help. He also
promised to do what he could in the matter of getting them a place at
the fair.
"Though how he is going to do it, when there aren't any places left in
the Zone, is more than I can understand," said Randy.
"Leave it to him," advised Mr. Strapp.
The remainder of the day was spent in talking over plans, and in paying
a visit to other fair officials, in an endeavor to devise some means of
running a motion picture show. But nothing could be done, and the only
chance the boys saw ahead of them was in opening one in San Francisco
proper, which they did not want to do.
Frank and Pep made an early start for the Cliff House the next morning,
and as what happened there requires telling rather in detail, I will
devote a new chapter to it.