THE LAME MAN
For a moment Dick stared at his chum uncomprehendingly. Then a light
came over his face, and he said:
"By Jove, old man! I believe you're right."
"I'm sure of it," declared Paul.
Innis looked at the two in some bewilderment.
"I wish you'd kindly explain," he said. "I may be bright looking, but I
guess I'm an awful dunce when it comes to making a stab at what you two
are getting at. The road map is gone--I get as far as that--and the
legal papers are safe. But how do you decide that a change has been
made?"
"Easy," answered Paul, showing a bundle of the kind of paper known as
"legal cap," with red lines down the side. "These were in the envelope
containing the road map. The map and the legal documents were in the
same pocket on the auto door. I remember, for I looked at the map to see
how many miles we had made after we crossed that river."
"Maybe it dropped out on the road," suggested Innis. "Mind you!" he
said, quickly, "I'm not saying this to be stubborn, but I want to make
sure that we're not overlooking anything. For if it's true, what Paul
says, it means that there's something wrong going on, and that we've got
to be on our guard."
"I believe you," asserted Dick, "and I'm just as glad to have you raise
all the objections you can. We want to be very sure of what we're about.
Now it's pretty well settled that none of us have had the road map since
it was put in the flap pocket last night. The envelope of legal papers
looks just like the road map, and any one putting their hand in after
dark, might get one in place of the other."
"And, lucky for you he got the wrong envelope," said Innis. "It's a good
joke on whoever it is."
"Yes," agreed Dick, "and I'm beginning to have an idea of who it is."
"Who?" demanded his two chums.
"My Uncle Ezra, of course. Who else would have an object in preventing
me from trying to save Mr. Wardell's fortune?"
"Ha! Ha!" laughed Innis. "I can just see his face when he looks in that
envelope and sees nothing but a road map. That's a rich one; eh, Grit?"
and he patted the bulldog, who wagged his stump of a tail energetically.
"Yes, it's a good joke," mused Dick; "but I don't believe Uncle Ezra
will be the first one to appreciate it."
"What do you mean?" asked Paul.
"Why, that my uncle didn't personally take that envelope," went on
Dick. "He must have hired some one to do it for him, just as he tried to
get me off my yacht that time."
"And he got badly stung, too!" exclaimed Innis. "Just as he did this
time."
"But we mustn't let that make us careless," went on Dick, "Uncle Ezra,
if it was he, won't give up so easily. He'll have another try."
"But if he does get the papers so long before the time when you have to
turn them over to the courts, Dick, can't you get other copies?" asked
Paul.
The young millionaire shook his head.
"Mr. Wardell has left for South America by this time," he said. "It
would be almost impossible to trace him now, in time to get him to
execute new papers, in case these were lost or taken," and Dick looked
at the valuable packet. "Of course I could cable him, if I knew on what
ship he had sailed, but I don't.
"To find that out I'd have to go back home, and maybe even then his
lawyer wouldn't know. You see Mr. Wardell was so ashamed of how easily
he had been fooled that he wanted to get off by himself somewhere. Maybe
he didn't leave his address. So I'd have quite a task tracing him.
"He depends on me to do this business for him, since I have undertaken
it. He didn't do it himself for two reasons. He didn't have much idea
that he could ever get his fortune back, I guess; and, for another
reason, he didn't want to lose the only chance he might have to make
another in this South American matter. If that is successful, I
understand, Mr. Wardell will come in for a big share of the profits.
"Now then, since he has trusted me, and since so much depends on these
papers, we've got to take good care of them. I'll hide them in a new
place. I guess under the cushions of one of the bunks will do. They
can't be gotten away in the night without one of us knowing it," and
Dick proceeded to carry his plan into execution.
"But how do you suppose the map was taken last night?" asked Paul.
"It would only be guess work," replied Dick. "Probably some one in an
auto sneaked up near us after we were sound asleep, reached in and took
the first envelope his fingers met with. That's the most plausible
theory, though I don't say it's right."
"But why an auto?" asked Paul.
"That's about the only way Uncle Ezra's agents could keep after us. They
must have our route down pretty fine, and now I'm sorry I didn't keep
quieter about it when we were laying it out. I talked freely before
Uncle Ezra, and, now I recall it, he was at our house more often since
we began getting ready for this trip, than ever before. He must have
overheard what dad and I planned to do."
"It looks so," admitted Paul Drew. "But why does he make all this fuss
about it? Why doesn't he wait until the time comes, and then file in
court a legal paper that would offset the one you have for Mr. Wardell,
Dick?"
"Because this is a peculiar case," explained his friend, who had gone
over it in detail with Mr. Wardell's lawyer. "No papers can be filed
before a certain date, and only within certain times. All Uncle Ezra
could do in the meanwhile would amount to nothing, unless he could get
these papers away from me. And that wouldn't be so important if Mr.
Wardell hadn't left the country and gone to a place where I can't get at
him in time to have him execute a new power of attorney. So we've got to
take good care of these papers, boys."
"And we've got to get a new road map," said Paul.
They stopped at the next town they came to and got a fine map, showing
the best roads to take. Then, in furtherance of his original plan, Dick
headed for Buffalo, which he hoped to make before nightfall.
"Couldn't you change your route, and fool your Uncle Ezra, Dick?" asked
Innis, after dinner that day.
"I could in some ways, but the cities we have planned to pass through
are on the best route to San Francisco. Of course I could switch off on
side roads here and there, but my idea is that if Uncle Ezra makes any
other attempts they'll be made in or near the big cities. He knows every
one where I'm going to touch."
"And this car is a regular landmark," complained Paul. "Everyone will
remember it once they see it."
"Well, there's no use worrying until we have to," observed Dick. "We'll
keep the papers as well hidden as we can, and a sharp watch out."
"It's a wonder Grit didn't give the alarm last night," said Innis.
"That's so," exclaimed Dick. "But the trouble with Grit is that he's too
friendly with everyone except Uncle Ezra. He got that from the boys at
school making such a fuss over him. He thinks everyone is his friend,
and if a chap was only to speak gently to him Grit would wag his head
off. That's probably what our night visitor did. Grit, you're no good!"
Grit barked happily, as though he had just been paid the greatest
compliment in the world.
They drove the car hard that day, and had the satisfaction of arriving
on the outskirts of Buffalo just as dusk was settling down. And then
they had their first bit of bad luck.
From lack of oil, one of the bearings became heated and an inspection in
a garage disclosed the fact that some new Babbitt, or anti-friction
metal, would have to be put in.
"A two days' job," the repair man said.
"Punk!" exclaimed Dick. "Well, we'll have to lay over, that's all. Come
on, fellows, we'll go to a hotel and take a run out to Niagara Falls
to-morrow."
So, after all, the accident had its advantages, for they quite enjoyed
the trip to the big cataract. The auto was repaired on time, and in the
interim Dick kept the valuable papers in his own pocket.
"If we only knew what sort of a man, or men, to be on the watch against,
it would be easier," remarked Paul, when they were ready to proceed
again.
"That's just it," admitted Dick. "We can't tell who Uncle Ezra will
send, nor when they'll appear. But I think, after once being fooled,
they'll go a bit slow. We won't worry, anyhow."
They were on the main road out of Buffalo, and were counting on making
Cleveland their next big stop. Their schedule called for leisurely
traveling, for they were in no special hurry, desiring to enjoy the trip
as much as possible.
"Here's a good chance to make speed," remarked Paul, as he sighted the
long, straight road ahead of them, after they had turned out of a bad
stretch.
"Yes, let her out a bit," suggested Dick, who had turned the wheel over
to Paul.
They sped along at a rapid pace, keeping a watchful eye out for
motorcycle speed-officers, when, as they rounded a curve, which Paul
took at rather too great speed, they saw just ahead of them an auto
drawn diagonally across the road.
"Look out!" cried Dick. "There isn't room to get past. What did he want
to stop that way for?"
"Maybe he had a breakdown," suggested Innis.
"It looks so," admitted Paul, as he slowed up. As he did so a man
walking with a perceptible limp came from the other side of the car,
where he had evidently been tinkering with the mechanism, and held up
his hand as a signal of distress.
"What's the matter?" asked Dick, as his big car came to a stop.
"Steering gear's broken," said the lame man, "and I can't push the car
out of the road myself. It's a mean place to have an accident."
"Yes, especially as it makes the road impassable," said Paul. "Well, I
guess we can get you out of the way all right. Is the break a bad one?"
"Yes, the steering knuckle has gone all to pieces. I tried to fix it,
but I don't dare drive the car with that out of commission."
"I should say not," agreed Dick. "You'd be climbing a tree before you
knew it," and he walked toward the disabled car, the lame man following
closely, after a sharp glance at Dick's handsome machine.