FELIX HARDWICK IS ASTONISHED.
Dick Ferris started back on catching sight of Hal, who stood on the
bottom step of the stairs.
"You!"
"Yes, Dick Ferris," returned Hal, coolly. "And let me say that I
overheard your conversation with Mrs. Ricket, your aunt."
Ferris changed color.
"Been playing the spy, eh?" he sneered.
"No; I just came in and overheard you speaking about me, and stopped to
learn what you would have to say."
"It's the same thing----"
"I hope you will excuse me, Mr. Carson," broke in Mrs. Ricket, who was
blushing furiously. "I--I don't approve of what Dick said."
"I know you do not, Mrs. Ricket. If I thought you did I would pack up
and leave at once."
"It would be a good job done," put in Ferris.
"Stop, Dick. I will not have you insult one of my boarders," cried the
woman, sharply.
"All right, have your own way," returned Ferris, insolently. "If you
want to take in any tramp that comes along, why, go ahead and do it."
He had on his hat and coat, and now he started for the door.
Hal caught him by the arm.
"Stop!" he cried. "I am not a tramp, and I won't be called one by you or
anybody else!"
"Really?"
"Yes, really."
"What are you going to do about it?"
"If you insist in indulging in such language in the future I will give
you even a worse whipping than I gave you this noon."
"What, did you fight?" cried Mrs. Ricket.
"He attacked me and I defended myself," replied Hal. "He is down on me
for taking the situation from which he was discharged."
"I know that."
"If I had known he was boarding here I would not have applied to
you----"
"You bet he wouldn't," put in Ferris.
"Not that I am afraid of your nephew," went on Hal. "But I do not wish
to cause any trouble."
"You have caused no trouble, Mr. Carson," returned Mrs. Ricket.
"That's what I call cool," exclaimed her nephew.
"It is Dick is the cause of it all. You know you are, and you ought to
be ashamed of yourself," she added, turning to the boy.
"That's right, go right against me; you always do," howled Dick Ferris,
"There ain't no use for me to stay here any longer."
And he marched out of the front door, and down the street to his
favorite hanging-out place, the corner pool-room.
Mrs. Ricket was profuse in her apologies to Hal after Ferris had gone.
"He's a good enough boy," she said. "But he has got into bad company,
and I can't do anything with him."
"Aren't his parents living?" asked Hal.
"Only his father, and he is a sea captain and ain't home more than three
or four times a year. I wish he would take Dick along with him some
time, it might do him good."
"So it might," replied Hal. "By the way, Mrs. Ricket, do you know a man
by the name of Hardwick?"
"The book-keeper for the firm where Dick used to work?"
"Yes."
"I saw him once, when he was here to see Dick."
"Oh, did he come here?"
"Yes, about a week ago."
"He came to see your nephew, did he?"
"Yes. Dick took him up to his room, and the gentleman stayed about an
hour or more."
"Do you know where he lives?"
"On East Twenty-third Street, near Third Avenue."
"The Third Avenue elevated runs close to it, then?"
"Yes. Why do you want to know?"
"I may have to go up on business sometime. I didn't care to ask your
nephew for the directions."
"I see."
Mrs. Ricket passed to the rear of the hall, and Hal continued on his to
his room.
"So the two are friends," he said to himself, as he was washing himself
and combing his hair. "And both of them are my enemies. This is getting
interesting, to say the least." He paused for a second. "I have half a
mind to do it. It won't do any harm. I will."
He hurried down to supper, which was being served in the basement, and
as soon as it was over, donned his coat and cap once more and made his
way over to Third Avenue.
An elevated train was just entering the station, and, paying his nickel,
he dropped his ticket in the box, and rushed aboard.
The Fourteenth and Eighteenth Street stations were soon passed. Then
came Twenty-third Street, and here Hal alighted.
It had begun to snow again, and the youth was compelled to pull his
coat-collar well up around his ears, and his cap far down over his eyes,
to protect himself from the elements.
He walked down East Twenty-third Street slowly, scanning the buildings
closely as he passed. It was now about half-past eight o'clock, and he
knew it would probably be some time before Hardwick would make his
appearance.
Having walked several blocks, Hal retraced his steps, and then took up a
position in a sheltering door-way.
He had hardly done so before a well-known form passed by.
"Dick Ferris!" cried Hal to himself. "What can he be doing here?"
There could be but one answer to that question. Ferris must have come to
see Hardwick.
He kept his eye on the tall boy, and as soon as Ferris was a short
distance ahead Hal left the door-way and followed him.
Ferris walked along for the space of two blocks. Then he came to an
elegant brown-stone front mansion, the parlor of which was brilliantly
illuminated.
Ascending the steps, he rang the bell, and the door was opened almost
immediately.
Hal, who stood near the area-way below, heard him ask for Hardwick.
"Yes, sir, he just came in."
"May I see him?"
"Yes, sir. Please step into the parlor."
Ferris stepped inside, and the door was immediately closed.
Hal drew a deep breath. If only he could find out Ferris' mission. He
felt certain the meeting between the book-keeper and the former
office-boy was to be an important one.
He looked at the windows. Every one of them were tightly closed.
"Too bad it isn't summer time," muttered Hal to himself.
On either side of the mansion were others, so there was no way to get to
the rear, excepting through the door below, and this was tightly barred.
"I would like to know what a detective would do in a case of this kind,"
thought Hal. "I suppose he would find some way to effect an entrance."
He was just about to give up trying to form some plan, when the door
opened and Hardwick and Ferris came out. Hal crouched near the foot of
the steps, and the pair passed within three feet of him.
"It isn't safe to talk over private matters in a house like that,"
remarked Hardwick. "I know a place where we will be far more at liberty
to discuss the thing I have in mind."
"Where is it?" asked Ferris.
"A private club-room just up the avenue."
"That will just suit me," replied Ferris.
The two passed on. Hal raised himself from his cramped position, and
made after them.
Once around the corner of Sixth Avenue, Hardwick led the way into an
open hall-way, lit up with a single gas-jet. The pair commenced to
ascend the stairs, which had several sharp turns. Hal was not far
behind.
"I'll find out what they are up to, if I die for it," he said, and
clenched his hands.
Several sentences were spoken which the youth did not catch, and then
came a cry from Hardwick.
"What is that you say?" he demanded. "You saw this Carson just before
you left your aunt's house?"
"Yes."
"Impossible!"
"Why should it be!" asked Ferris.
Hardwick did not reply.
"I was right," thought Hal, with a shudder. "He threw those bricks on
me, and thought I was either dead or next door to it. He is a thorough
villain, and no mistake."
"Why shouldn't I see Carson at the house?" went on Ferris.
"Why--I thought he wasn't going home till late," stammered Hardwick.
"Did he say so?"
"I believe he said something about it. I didn't pay much attention."
Hardwick was beginning to recover from his shock. "So you saw him?"
"Yes."
"You two don't get along very well, do you?"
"I'd like to thrash him," growled Ferris.
"Why?"
Hal did not hear the reply. The two passed into a room on the third
floor, and the door was closed behind them.
For an instant the youth hesitated. Then he mounted to the door and
applied his eye to the key-hole.
There was a brilliant light inside, but no one appeared to be present.
Having satisfied himself on this point, Hal tried the knob of the door.
It turned, and he pushed the door open cautiously. He knew he was
treading on dangerous ground and was running a great risk. Yet a strange
courage seemed to have come over him, and he was not one bit nervous.
Once inside the room, he saw that it was a club apartment. Papers were
scattered over the table, and cards and other games rested on a side
stand.
To the left was another door, having a curtain strung over it.
From beyond the curtain came the voices of Hardwick and Ferris, and Hal
knew they had seated themselves and were taking it easy.
Approaching the outer door he locked it.
"Now I cannot be surprised in that direction," he thought. "And if
Hardwick or Ferris try to leave I can hide in the closet."
Having made these preparations against being discovered, Hal approached
the curtain to listen to whatever might be said.
"You say you wish you could fix Carson?" he heard Hardwick say.
"I do," returned Ferris. "I hate him, and I would do almost anything to
get square."
"Then I'll tell you of a little plan that you can work, Dick. I don't
like the fellow myself, and it will delight me to see you get the best
of him."
"How does the beggar do the office work?"
"I must say first class."
"Humph! It didn't suit me, Hardwick. If there hadn't been other
money----"
"Hush!" cried the book-keeper, in alarm. "That matter must remain a
secret, never to be mentioned."