CHAPTER XXX.

AN UNLUCKY EVENING.

Bob was still in the habit of getting his supper, and breakfast the next

morning, at the different points where he landed. He left Clip on board,

in charge of the boat, while he sought a good place to obtain a meal. He

found that Rocky Creek possessed but one hotel, and that of a very

modest character, bearing the rather imposing name of the Metropolitan

Hotel.

He registered his name, and intimated his desire for supper.

"Supper is on the table," said the clerk.

Bob entered the dining-room, a forlorn-looking room of small dimensions,

containing a long table, at which sat two persons, a drummer from St.

Louis, and an old man with a gray beard, who kept the principal

dry-goods store in Rocky Creek.

Bob was assigned a place between the two.

"Good-evening," said the drummer, sociably.

"Good-evening," responded Bob.

"Are you a regular boarder?"

"Oh, no; I never was in the place before."

"How did you come?"

"By river."

"Indeed!" said the drummer, puzzled. "Has any steamer touched here

to-day?"

"No; I came on my own boat."

"Bound down the river?"

"Yes."

"Business, I suppose?"

"Yes; I have a load of wheat which I propose to sell in the city."

"What house shall you deal with?"

"I don't know; I'm not acquainted in St. Louis. I shall inquire when I

get there."

"Then let me recommend you to go to Pearson & Edge. They will treat you

liberally."

"Thank you. I will call on them and see what I can do."

"Present my card, if you please, and say I sent you there."

The drummer produced his card and handed it to Bob. From this our hero

learned that his companion was Benjamin Baker, traveling for Dunham &

Co., wholesale grocers.

"Shall you stay at the hotel this evening?" asked Baker.

"No; I shall pass the night on my boat."

"How many have you on board?"

"Only myself and a colored boy from home--Clip."

"Isn't that rather a small crew?"

"Perhaps so; but we haven't much to do, except to let the boat drift,

keeping her straight meanwhile."

"By the way, speaking of Pearson, senior member of the firm I have

recommended, he is in great trouble just now."

"How is that?"

"He had a very pretty little girl of about six years old--little Maud.

Two or three days since, as I hear from a friend in the city, the little

girl mysteriously disappeared."

"Disappeared?"

"Just so. Her parents think she must have been kidnapped, as a

suspicious-looking person had been noticed by the nurse hovering near

when they were out walking together."

"They must be in great trouble and anxiety," said Bob, in a tone of

sympathy, "if they believe this."

"They would be glad to believe it, for in that case the little girl is

alive, while otherwise she may have strayed to the river and been

drowned. Mr. Pearson, who is wealthy, has offered a reward of one

thousand dollars to any one who will restore his little girl to him."

As they sat at table, Bob noticed through the window the man Minton, who

had called upon him on the arrival of the boat.

"Do you know that man, Mr. Baker?" he asked, suddenly.

The drummer shook his head.

"I am a stranger, too," he said. "But perhaps this gentleman, who is in

business at Rocky Creek, may be able to give you some information."

Thus appealed to, the old gentleman looked from the window.

"It isn't any one I know," he replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Because he called upon me on my arrival, representing himself as a

grain merchant, and proposed to buy my cargo."

The old man shrugged his shoulders.

"He looks more like a tramp than a grain merchant," he said.

"I agree with you," assented Bob, with a laugh.

"Did he mention his name?"

"He called himself James Smith; but as he answered my questions in a

hesitating manner, I concluded that it was an assumed name."

"Very likely."

"Then he doesn't live in the village?"

"No; but he has been here for a day or two."

"I wonder what could have been his object in representing himself to me

as a grain merchant?" said Bob, thoughtfully.

"Oh," answered the drummer, "he probably wanted to strike up an

acquaintance which would justify him in borrowing a few dollars of you.

I have met plenty of such characters They live by what they can borrow."

When supper was over Bob and the drummer rose together.

"Won't you have a cigar, Mr. Burton?" asked the latter.

"No, thank you; I don't smoke."

"Oh, well, you'll learn after a while. At any rate, sit down and keep me

company for a while."

"Thank you, but I shall have to go back to the boat and give Clip a

chance to get his supper."

Clip returned from supper at half-past seven, and Bob, feeling wide

awake, decided to go on shore again. He did not care to go to the hotel,

but took a leisurely walk through the village and beyond. It was an

unfortunate walk, for it made him an easy prey to the men who were

scheming against him. In a lonely place two men sprang upon him

suddenly, and before he could understand what was going on, he was

gagged and helpless. In this condition the two men, taking him between

them, hurried him to a lonely house at some distance from the road.

Bob Burton was brave, but this sudden and mysterious attack startled

and alarmed him not a little. He would have expostulated, but was

unable, from being gagged, to utter a word.

Reaching the house, a short, sharp knock at the door was answered by a

rough-looking man, dressed in a suit of faded and shabby cloth.

"So you've got him!" was his laconic greeting.

"Yes, Joe! Now where shall we put him?"

"Come upstairs."

The two men set Bob down, and pushed him forward, and up a staircase,

steep and dark. He was thrust into a room with a sloping roof, and the

gag was removed from his mouth.

"What does all this mean?" he asked, angrily, turning to the two men

whom he recognized by the light of the lantern which Joe Springer

carried in his hand.

"It's all right, my lad!" said Brown. "All you've got to do is to keep

quiet, and no harm will come to you."

"How long do you mean to keep me here?" asked Bob, with, a feeling of

despair in his heart. He suspected now what it all meant.

"Two weeks, perhaps; but you will be well taken care of."

The men went out leaving the lantern behind them. Bob heard the bolt

shot in the lock. He looked around him. There was a low pallet in the

corner. He threw himself on it, and, brave boy as he was, came near

shedding tears.

Bob Burton; or, The Young Ranchman of the Missouri · 第 30 / 39 章