AN UGLY INTIMATION
Grabbing his father under the arms, Frank half carried, half
supported him to the stairway, just as the chief came scrambling down.
They very soon brought the man into the open air. Everything was at
a high pitch of excitement, as the word had gone around the crowd
that Mr. Allen had been injured, perhaps killed. A half-dozen other
rumors were in the air, all caused by the knowledge that a part of
the building had caved in and that Frank Allen and the chief had been
seen dashing into the place.
As the three emerged from the building, doctors grabbed them, for the
chief and Frank were choking from the smoke, while Mr. Allen was now
unconscious.
In a short while the chief was himself, as was also Frank, while Mr.
Allen had been hurried off to a hospital. Being informed of this when
he had come around, Frank, too, was driven quickly to the hospital.
Mrs. Allen and Frank’s sister Helen were out in the Canadian Rockies
on a visit.
The chief now directed the fire-fighting to better effect since he
knew the situation more thoroughly within the building. In an hour
the fire was completely out.
At the hospital aid was given to Mr. Allen, who had suffered bruises
from the fall through the floor, probably also from pieces of timber
or goods which fell on top of him, and, as the doctors said, maybe
internal injuries were inflicted.
It was too early to make a close examination, and Frank could only
content himself with hearing the carefully worded reports of the
physicians and the nurse.
Morning came to find a very weary young man still waiting nervously
around the hospital for better word of his father’s condition.
Lanky Wallace, who had tried to be of assistance to Frank after the
accident, but who had gone home at his earnest solicitation, now came
to the hospital and took him away for breakfast.
After breakfast Frank went to the store, and, with several of the
clerks, attended to laying out plans for repairs and also for getting
things straight.
The actual damage, from a financial point of view, was not great,
though the entire stock had been subjected to damage by water and
smoke. The cleaning and brightening of the store would require some
days.
Before going home to get a rest which was so needed, he sat in
conference with his father’s friends and the banker, making
preparations for the contractor to take charge of all repair work.
This done, and noon-time having arrived, Frank returned to the
hospital, to receive the joyful news that his father had regained
consciousness and was able to talk with him, though only for a
limited number of minutes.
Frank explained what had been done, and the smile on his father’s
face indicated that a great deal of worry had been removed. The
doctor standing close by nodded his approval of the things which
Frank related.
“Getting his mind in a quiet frame will help much toward bringing him
around,” remarked the physician. Then Frank was told to leave and,
also, that he must not return to see his father until late in the
evening, when the promise was that he would be even more improved.
Evening came, finding Frank much rested and back at the hospital. The
nurse was the only one present, and informed him that his father was
decidedly better, his consciousness fully regained, that no signs
had yet shown themselves to indicate any internal injuries—that, in
short, all was going well.
In the meantime Mrs. Allen and Helen were planning to return home as
speedily as possible, as both wished to be at the side of husband
and father at this time of trouble. But the trip was a long one and
would take over a week to accomplish, for they were not even near the
railroad.
On the second morning after the fire Lanky and Frank were together
and were joined along the streets by several of the boys, among them
being Ralph West. Rapid fires of questions as to the condition of
his father were hurled at Frank, and every one seemed pleased at the
cheery news that he was apparently better.
“Tell me about this robbery up the river,” said Ralph, when they had
a moment together. “It has been in the papers, and I saw you and
Lanky had been there shortly after it happened.”
“I haven’t seen the article, Ralph, but Lanky and I got there right
after it all happened and turned Mrs. Parsons loose. But this fire
and dad’s getting hurt knocked out of my mind most of the thoughts of
the robbery.”
He told Ralph some parts of the story, the high lights of it,
following Ralph’s questions.
“Why are you asking so many questions about it?” asked Frank, for
Ralph was not generally given to gathering such close details.
“Because I heard on the street a while ago that the chief is going
to have a hearing of some sort and that they are going to ask you and
Lanky over there.”
“That wouldn’t be out of the way,” replied Frank. “They wish to get
all the information they can in order to locate those thieves, I
presume, and certainly Lanky and I were there very closely behind
them—in fact, we were there at the same time they were and saw them
go—and something we might tell the chief that Mrs. Parsons hadn’t
told or didn’t know, may help.”
Though he did not mention it to Ralph, Frank had not forgotten the
accusation made by the policeman while at the Parsons place, and,
though he knew it was a false one, it was an uncomfortable feeling
to realize that some one, whether in authority or not, whether a
thinking man or not, had accused him of complicity of some sort.
“Frank,” said Lanky, as he came up and joined the two, “what do you
say if you and I and any of the others who care to do so go up to
the Parsons place to see what we can learn? You know, we might see
something in daytime that we couldn’t see at night.”
“It may be of no use,” replied Frank. “How do we know they have not
already found the fellows?”
At this juncture a policeman waved to the boys from across the
street, and came up to Frank.
“The chief is going to have a hearing to-day and wants you to be
present. Also you,” turning to Lanky. “It will be at two o’clock.”
“Can we go?” Ralph West immediately asked, meaning Paul Bird and
himself.
“Sure, you can go! But I don’t know whether the chief will let you
in.”
“We’ll go and try,” both the boys agreed.
Just before two o’clock all four of them were at the chief’s office,
but Paul and Ralph were refused admission. At this refusal, which had
been expected, they told Frank and Lanky they were going to remain
within easy distance, because they wanted to get in on the search and
its expected excitement, if one should be started.
In the chief’s office Frank and Lanky saw Mrs. Parsons, the chief,
the two policemen who had been there when called to the place
by telephone, and, much to the surprise of both the boys, Fred
Cunningham was sitting there.
As these two boys were the last, evidently, who had come of those
invited or summoned, the chief greeted them quietly and at once
started his hearing.
Mrs. Parsons first told her story, practically the same as she had
told two nights before, the difference lying primarily in her
quietness of manner as opposed to the rather hysterical recital she
had formerly made.
Then followed the two statements by Frank and by Lanky, both the
same, for they had seen the same things.
Following this came the statements of the two policemen who had
appeared on the scene after having been called.
Frank felt much relieved when the principal of the two did not make
any allusions such as those which he had made at the Parsons place.
“Now, I’d like each of you to be prepared to answer questions,” the
chief sat forward toward his desk, taking it by both sides with his
hands in rather a pugnacious attitude, or one that was calculated to
show that he meant business.
“First, how far, Mr. Allen, were you out in the river when you heard
the cries of Mrs. Parsons?”
“I should say we were a hundred yards from shore.”
“How long did it take you to land and get to the house?” asked the
chief.
“Perhaps five minutes, though one cannot very well guess at the time.
We got to shore, tied, and ran through the underbrush, but it was
very dark and we probably were longer than we might have been had it
been daylight.”
Then the chief skipped over the whole narrative to the next question,
which was one of opinion:
“If you were in my place, would you say the robbers were in the house
when Mrs. Parsons got home or that they got in after she arrived
home?”
Frank smiled a little, for he and Lanky had talked over the same
question.
“Wallace and I talked about that very thing when we got back to the
boat. From the things we saw in the upper room and from what Mrs.
Parsons told us about the queer noises she heard, I believe they were
already in the house.”
“All right,” answered the chief. “Now, then, if there was a car which
took those men away, will you please tell me why it wasn’t there when
Mrs. Parsons came home?”
“Really, since I was not there at that time and since my guess isn’t
any better than that of any one else, I don’t know.” Frank felt a
little nettled at being the target for questions of opinion.
“Well, Mr. Allen,” pursued the chief, “perhaps you have some idea,
since you and your friend have talked about it.”
“I have,” said Frank. “I believe the car arrived at the roadway and
let the men out. They then proceeded to the house, and the car did
not come for them until some prearranged signal had been given.”
At this remark Fred Cunningham leaned over and said something in a
whisper to one of the police.
The chief turned toward him immediately.
“Mr. Cunningham, we’re going to hear your story in a little while.
Please do not talk with others meanwhile.”
So Cunningham had a story to tell! Frank wondered what it would be.
“Now, Mr. Allen, will you please express your opinion as to whether
the robbery could have been committed earlier in the day and the
robbers could have come back a second time?”
This was an angle that Frank did not see the end of. Further, the
chief seemed to be questioning him as if he knew more than he had
told.
“Mr. Berry,” he replied, “I have no idea of what these men may have
done. I told you what I saw, and I cannot see that my guesses would
be any good. If I were able to guess at such things with a reasonable
amount of accuracy, I’d be out hunting for these men right now, for
it was a shame to have robbed Mrs. Parsons and to have tied her in
that pantry.”
“All right, but I have one more question I would like to ask, and
then I may be through. It is this: What were you doing that day on
the river with your motor boat? That is, please account for your
time.”
Again Frank saw the veiled intent of accusation. There was something
deeper here than he knew.
But he accounted for the time in a general way by saying they had
gone up the river on an errand for his father, had some mishaps with
the motor and with the electric lighting system, and were running
along at a reasonable speed late in the evening when they heard the
cries of the imprisoned woman.
“Ordinarily, would it take you so long to run up the river on such an
errand and come back?”
“Certainly not, sir, but you must remember that I had trouble with
the motor.”
“Will you please tell me, then, why you were tied to the shore
just above the Parsons place and lay there for two hours on that
afternoon? Will you please tell why you were tied at the only point
along the shore where there is an open path through the underbrush to
the lawn of the Parsons house? And will you please tell me where you
were for those two hours?”
Frank told them it was motor trouble, that he had tied there because
it was the first place he could get to when the motor stopped and
that any other place would have been just as good.
“But you have not told me why you were not in that boat for two
hours.”
“Sir? Who said I was not in that boat for two hours? I certainly was
there every minute. I did not even get on shore, as my friend tied
the boat and came back aboard to help me with the motor.”
“The word has been brought to me that your boat lay there for two
hours and that you were not on board.”
“The person who told you that told an untruth. I never put my foot on
shore that afternoon.”
“Mr. Cunningham,” as the chief turned to him, “did you see Mr.
Allen’s boat tied there while you were out in your own?”
“Yes, sir, I did.”
“And do I understand that you are sure that neither Mr. Allen nor his
friend were in the boat for two hours?”
“That’s it, exactly,” replied Cunningham.
“How does Mr. Cunningham know that I was not there for two hours?
Where was he all that time?” Quickly Frank threw in the question.
Cunningham went pale.