DICK TURNS DETECTIVE
"Well, Dick," remarked Mr. Hamilton at breakfast the next morning, "your
party was a great success."
"I hope they all had a good time. They seemed to. I know I did."
"Yes, they were a fine lot of young people," went on the millionaire.
"Oh, by the way, I had a letter from the man in Yazoo City I wrote to
about your gold mine stock. Nick Smith, his name is. He's an old
forty-niner, I understand."
"What does he say?"
"The mine is all right. He sent me a report from the government assay
office, and I guess the Dolphin is as good as the Hop Toad."
"Then I'd better finish paying for the stock when Mr. Vanderhoof comes
to town again," said Dick. "It will be mine then, and all I'll have to
do is to wait for it to increase and pay me big dividends."
"I hope it does," answered Mr. Hamilton. "I also had a letter from
Vanderhoof yesterday. He also had heard from Smith, it appears, and as
he learned the mine was favorably reported on, he sent word that he'd
call to-day for the fifteen hundred dollars."
"He can have it, dad," said Dick. "I guess I'll go down to the bank with
you. What time will Mr. Vanderhoof be there?"
"At eleven, his letter said. Well, if you have finished breakfast, come
along. You're getting to be quite a financier."
"I'm going to make that a paying investment if it's a possible thing,"
answered Dick, as he walked through the well-kept grounds toward the
street and thought of Uncle Ezra's place.
Mr. Vanderhoof was promptly on time, and had the bonds ready for Dick,
who paid for them with a check. The youth, who had about given up trying
to recall where he had seen Vanderhoof before, thought the mining
promoter smiled more than ever like a cat as he handed over the
securities and took the money.
"I'm sure I hope you double your capital," he remarked, with a smirk
that showed nearly all his teeth.
"Oh, if I make twenty-five per cent. I'll be satisfied," answered Dick.
"Well, I'll be in town for a few days," Mr. Vanderhoof went on, "and if
either of you would like to take some more mining stock I'll be glad to
accommodate you."
"I have enough," replied the millionaire, and Dick answered that he
wanted to see how this investment turned out before venturing another.
"Well, I'll be in town, at any rate," was the promoter's parting remark.
Dick felt quite like a man of business as he looked over his check book
a little later and noted what he had paid out. True, he had taken in
nothing since he had come into his fortune, but he knew the wealth his
mother had left him was accumulating interest all the while--faster, in
fact, than he had spent it so far. Still he wished that he was receiving
an income from some efforts of his own.
"Never mind, wait until my stock in the gold mine and the milk company
begins to boom," he told himself. "That is, if that milk concern doesn't
demand another assessment," he added, dubiously.
Dick walked slowly home, and, passing around the side of the house,
approached the stable. He intended taking a gallop on Rex that afternoon
and wanted the groom to have the horse in readiness. As he neared Grit's
kennel he noticed that the chain was thrown over the top of the house,
as it usually was when the dog was loose.
"Where's Grit?" he asked of Peters, the groom.
"Grit, Master Dick?" inquired the man, in great surprise. "Sure an'
didn't you send for him about an hour ago?"
"Me send for him?" repeated Dick in some alarm, for Grit, even if he was
unchained, would not stray away from the stable. He was nowhere in
sight, and Dick at once became worried.
"Sure, Master Dick," went on the groom. "About an hour ago a youngish
chap came here and said you'd sent him for Grit."
"And you let him take him?"
"Why, sure, I thought you'd sent for him, as you did once."
"Yes, but then I sent a note, Peters."
"That's so, but the young man had Grit's leash, sir; and, though the dog
was inclined to be a bit ugly, he seemed to know the leash and went
along after a bit."
"What sort of a man got him?" asked Dick, quietly, though he was much
excited over what seemed to be the theft of his pet.
"A young man, not very nice-looking, Master Dick, and smelling very
strong of the stables. In fact, that's what made Grit finally take to
him. Grit's very fond of horses and stables, sir. He'll let almost
anyone come near him as long as they've been around a barn."
"That's so. Did the man say anything, or give any name?"
"No. He just said you were going for a walk and wanted Grit to go 'long.
Said you was too busy to come and had sent the leash so's he'd have no
trouble. He didn't have--that is, not very much--barring that Grit
wanted to get hold of his leg first. But when the dog had sniffed at the
leash, probably knowin' it came from you, he was quiet enough. But I
could see the man was askeered of him, Master Dick. He walked to one
side like. Why, Master Dick, is anything wrong?"
"Wrong? I should say so! Grit's been stolen, Peters."
"You don't say so, Master Dick!" exclaimed the man, much alarmed at his
part in the matter.
"Yes, he's been stolen, and by a clever trick," went on Dick. "But I
don't blame you, Peters. I remember now, I lost the leash thong last
night. I had it on Grit and I took it off and put it in my pocket. Then
I missed it after the party, and I was too tired to look for it. Someone
must have found it, and, knowing it belonged to Grit, made up his mind
to steal him. The fellow must have known he'd come more willingly after
smelling his own leash."
"But you must have lost it somewhere around here," went on Peters.
"Someone at the party may have found it."
"If they had they would have known it was mine," answered Dick. "No, I
think someone outside found it and he stole Grit. Well, I've got to find
him, that's all. Saddle Rex, and I'll make some inquiries about town."
"But it's near dinner-time, Master Dick."
"I don't care. I can't eat if Grit is gone," and with a heavy heart Dick
waited for the horse to be saddled. He whistled shrilly his favorite
call to Grit, hoping the dog might have broken away not far from the
stable, and be in hiding somewhere, but no Grit appeared.
On the back of Rex, Dick made a hasty tour of the immediate
neighborhood, inquiring of various persons he met if they had seen the
bulldog. Grit was well known about Hamilton Corners, for he was often
seen in his master's company. But this time no one had noticed him being
led off in leash by a young man who seemed quite afraid of the brute
that was so handsome for his very ugliness.
"He's been stolen for a reward," was Mr. Hamilton's opinion when he came
home to lunch and heard Dick's woeful story. "You'll hear from him
sooner or later. Better advertise in the county papers."
Dick put in several notices that afternoon, offering to pay a reward of
a hundred dollars for the return of Grit.
"Now we'll have to wait," said the millionaire. "Never mind, Dick; if
Grit is gone you can get another dog," for Mr. Hamilton was as fond of
animals as was his son.
"There'll never be another Grit," answered Dick, sorrowfully.
Meanwhile, Grit was being led across the country fields which stretched
out back of the Hamilton mansion.
"I've got to keep off the roads," muttered the youth who had hold of the
leash. "There's too many people as knows a dorg like this. I wish I
hadn't gone into this game. It's too risky, not only at bein' caught,
but I don't like the way this dorg looks at my legs. He looks hungry."
Indeed, Grit was in no amiable frame of mind. He consented to be led
along because he recognized his old leash, and the man leading him had
the familiar smell of horses, which Grit loved so well. The dog was a
little suspicious, but once before Dick had sent a stranger for him and
the man had smelled of horses, so Grit, though he had grave doubts, was
willing to go along. But he was getting anxious to see his master, as
his uneasy growls from time to time indicated, to the no small alarm of
the somewhat ragged youth leading him.
"Easy now, old boy," he said. "That's a good dorg. We'll soon be there,"
he added, as he cast an uneasy look around. "The wagon must be waiting
somewheres about here."
He cut through a little clump of trees and emerged upon an unfrequented
road that led to Leonardville, a distant settlement.
"There's the rig!" he exclaimed, as he caught sight of a wagon and a
horse hitched to the fence. "The worst of it's over."
"Did you get 'im?" asked a man in the wagon.
"Yep, an' I'll be glad to git rid of 'im. He's a little too anxious to
see what my legs is made of."
Grit was led toward the wagon. He seemed to think something was not just
right, for he growled menacingly and hung back.
"Hold 'im a minute now, until I git the bag," ordered the man in the
wagon, and, as the ragged youth did so, the man suddenly threw a big
sack over Grit's head. Then, hastily wrapping him up in it and tying
several turns of rope about it, the sack and dog were tossed into the
wagon.
"Quick's the word!" exclaimed the man, as he and the youth got up on the
seat and drove off. "Now to get our share of the reward. I hope that
young feller what put up this job knows what he's about."
Poor Grit, whining and growling alternately in the bottom of the wagon,
tried to work the suffocating bag off his head, but it was too tightly
fastened.
The mail the next day brought Dick a badly-written and worse-spelled
missive, in which it was stated that if he wanted Grit returned he could
have him by paying two hundred dollars' reward. No names were signed,
and the handwriting was unfamiliar.
"I told you so," said Mr. Hamilton. "But who's got him?"
"The letter doesn't say. I'm to leave two hundred dollars to-night under
a flat stone, near the stump just where the county road crosses
Butternut Creek. Then, the letter says, the dog will be back at the
stables to-morrow morning."
"Well," remarked Mr. Hamilton, "that's a hundred more than you
advertised to pay. I guess you can't help yourself. You'd better do as
the letter says."
"I'll not!" exclaimed Dick.
"What are you going to do? Inform the police? They won't be able to do
much. Besides, they'll never bother over a dog, no matter how valuable
he is."
"No," replied Dick. "I'm not going to tell the police."
"What then?"
"I'm going to turn detective myself and find Grit! See, here is the
first clue," and he held up the envelope of the letter. "This was mailed
in Leonardville. I'm going there for a starter, and I'll find Grit!"
With flashing eyes Dick hurried to the stables to order Rex saddled.