BOB LEARNS SOMETHING
As a matter of course, Bob retreated. He had no desire to be punctured
with the points of the pitchfork--those tines looked altogether too
ugly.
Joel Carrow rushed after Bob, making several lunges, whenever he
thought he saw a chance of reaching the youth.
“Stop it!” cried Bob, when he had retreated a hundred feet or more.
“Stop it, or you will be sorry.”
“So yer afraid, are you?” snarled Carrow.
He made another lunge, and had not Bob jumped to one side, the tines
would have entered his body. The youth watched his chance, and doubled
on the farmer. The wagon was a good bit up the road, and, running to
it, he jumped in.
“Hi! Stop there!” cried Carrow, in alarm.
“Good-by, old freckles!” returned Bob.
He turned the horse’s head, and before the farmer could reach him
started off at a lively gait, leaving Carrow standing in the middle of
the road, shaking his fist in impotent rage.
Bob fully understood the horse he was driving, and he made good time
to Dalmer’s place.
Jumping off here, he tied the reins to the dash-board and started the
horse off, feeling certain that the animal would go straight home.
Entering the house, he found Frank Landes sitting up in an easy-chair.
“Hullo, Bob! so you’ve come back! Mr. Dalmer thought you had followed
those rascals to Stampton, or some other place.”
Such was Frank’s salutation, and Bob saw at a glance that the young man
was much better.
“I wish I had been able to follow them,” returned the youth, and,
sitting down, he related the particulars of the useless search.
Frank shook his head slowly.
“That’s the end of them, mark my word.”
“I’m afraid you’re right,” returned Bob. “They are sly as well as bad.
How do you feel?”
“Much better. I think I can start out again by to-morrow morning. How
is your wrist and back?”
“Mighty sore, but I reckon I’ll pull through,” and Bob grinned. “I’m
tough, you know.”
Bob remained with Frank for an hour. During this time he saw Joel
Carrow tramp past, pitchfork in hand, and looking the picture of
sourness. He laughed, and told his companion of the incident on the
road.
“He ought to be dressed down,” said Frank. “But, Bob.”
“Well?”
“I wish you would go over to the hotel and get our traps. I haven’t a
cent with me. Luckily I left some money in the satchel. Settle with the
landlord, and tell him we intend to stay here to-night. Mrs. Dalmer
says she will accommodate us.”
“All right, Frank. But----” and Bob hesitated.
“But what?”
“It’s asking too much of you to keep me a whole day for nothing, and
those fellows cleaned me out when they caught me at the hay-stack----”
“That’s all right. You are to stay with me until we reach Stampton,
even if we don’t get there until six weeks, and I’m to settle the
bills. Don’t say no, or I’ll get angry.”
“Thanks! I wouldn’t make you mad for the world,” and Bob made off
without further words.
It did not take the youth long to reach the half-way house. He secured
all of Frank’s effects as well as his own bundle, and remained for a
while talking to Fitt about the robbers.
“It’s a pity they weren’t caught,” said the hotel-keeper. “I believe
they are a regularly organized gang and nothing less.”
“Perhaps they are. You haven’t seen any trace of them around here, have
you?”
“I had a sort of an idea I saw one of them sneaking around early this
morning, but I guess I must have been mistaken,” answered the landlord.
Before leaving the hotel, Bob had occasion to go up-stairs, wishing to
make sure that nothing belonging to Frank had been left behind.
As he passed through the main corridor, he saw a tall, slim man pass
hurriedly to one side and slip into a room the youth knew was vacant.
The actions of the fellow were so peculiar that Bob could not help
noticing them, and the more he thought over the matter, the more he
became convinced that the slim man was up to no good.
“I’ll watch him for a few minutes and make sure,” said Bob to himself.
He entered the room Frank and he had occupied, and from a crack of the
door looked out into the vacant corridor.
A minute passed. Then he saw the slim man emerge from the apartment in
which he had sought shelter, and cross to a room opposite.
The door of the room was locked, but the man inserted something, which
Bob thought was a wire, into the key-hole, and at once passed inside.
“That’s queer,” said the youth to himself. “I think I’ll investigate a
bit further.”
Leaving his room, he tiptoed his way down the corridor until he came to
the room which the man had just entered. The door had been closed from
the inside, and, by turning the handle gently, Bob discovered that it
had also been fastened.
The catch had been turned so that the key-hole was still clear. Bending
down, Bob peered through this small aperture.
He could not see a great deal, but he saw enough to convince him that
the man was rummaging through a bureau. He had all the drawers open,
and was going through them with a dexterity that showed he was no
novice at this work.
“A hotel sneak-thief,” thought Bob. “Gracious! what a lot of robbing
there is going on!”
He scanned the face of the man carefully. The fellow was a stranger and
where he had come from the youth could not conjecture.
Bob concluded that the best thing he could do would be to call up the
landlord, and place the case in his charge. Yet he was afraid to leave
the corridor for fear the man would get away before he could return.
At that moment the man left the bureau, and walked to one of the
windows.
“Hullo! she is coming back,” Bob heard him mutter.
Then, stuffing a number of articles into his coat-pockets, the man
rushed to the door and flung it open.
He was astonished to come face to face with Bob.
“Who--what--” he stammered, and tried to pass the youth. But Bob
blocked his way.
“What were you doing in that room?” demanded the youth.
“What’s that?” came from the man.
“You heard what I said.”
“That room is mine, sir.”
“Really! I thought it belonged to a lady.”
“You mean my wife.”
The sneak-thief spoke so coolly that for the instant Bob was taken
aback.
“Is she your wife?”
“Certainly. Let me pass,” and again the man attempted to push Bob aside.
“What makes you in such a hurry?” and Bob placed his hand on the slim
man’s arm.
“You are tremendously impudent!” cried the sneak-thief, putting on an
air of importance.
“Thank you. Just you come down to the office with me.”
“I’ll do nothing of the kind. The idea of a boy, a mere boy, speaking
to me in this fashion! Get out of my way, before I knock you down.”
And he drew back as if to attack Bob.
“Help! thief! help!” cried Bob, at the top of his voice.
“Stop that racket, you fool!” muttered the slim man.
He tried to catch Bob by the throat, but, failing in this, made a dash
to get away.
Near the head of the stairs stood the traps belonging to Frank and Bob.
The corridor was but dimly lighted, and the fellow did not see them.
“Stop the thief!” went on Bob.
There was a commotion below. The man heard it, and ran harder than ever.
At the top of the stairs he tripped over the camera, tripod, and
satchel, and sneak-thief and photographic outfit rolled to the bottom
together. Then came a greater commotion than ever.
“What’s the row?”
“Mercy! the house must be coming down!”
“Stop that man!” yelled Bob. “He is a thief!”
At this there was a shriek from several women.
Fitt and another man rushed forward and grabbed the slim man by the
arms just as he was rising to his feet.
“Let me go!” cried the sneak-thief. “That boy is crazy.”
“No, I’m not. He’s been ransacking one of the bureaus in Room 14,”
returned Bob.
“My room!” cried an elderly lady. “And I left my jewels in the middle
drawer. Oh, the rascal! Hold him tight!”
By this time Bob had reached the lower landing. Quite a crowd began to
collect. The youth picked up the camera, and stood it out of the way
of further harm, and then faced the sneak-thief, who looked decidedly
uncomfortable.
“This is all a mistake, gentlemen,” he said. “That boy is the thief.”
“What?”
“Yes. I caught him with these jewels in his pocket. He tried hard to
escape, and when he found he could not, he raised the cry you heard.”
The crowd looked from the slim man to Bob.
“That’s not true!” cried Bob. “I saw this man acting rather strangely
and I watched him. He picked the lock of the door, and----”
“Tut, tut!” put in the sneak-thief. “Why, boy, do you know who I am?”
“I don’t care if you are the President. You stole those jewels, and you
know it.”
“I am Senator Briscoe from the West, looking up my interest in the
T. W. & L. Railroad. To say I am a sneak-thief is preposterous. I am
afraid,” went on the pretended senator, with a wave of his hand, “that
this youth is not quite right in his mind. Landlord, do you know him?”
“Yes, I do,” returned Fitt. “And I don’t know you,” he added,
suspiciously.
“I can refer you to President Maverick of the railroad. You are making
a sad mistake, and I must request you to let go of me.”
Fitt was rather a nervous man, and of a weak turn of mind. At these
smooth words he let go his hold, and so did the other man.
“I wouldn’t trust him,” said Bob, bluntly. “He may be a Senator, but he
is a thief, just the same, and--stop him!”
For without warning the slim man had made a dash through the crowd. He
reached the piazza, and, jumping into the road, made off as fast as his
long legs would carry him.
“After him!” shrieked the elderly woman. “He has my jewels still.”
She was right. Fitt had not taken the box the sneak-thief had produced,
and they were still in the slim man’s possession. Bob rushed after the
fellow. The others followed, but the youth was the better runner of the
two.
He caught up to the sneak-thief just as the latter was about to mount a
horse which stood a short distance from the hotel.
“Give me those jewels!” he cried.
The slim man paid no attention. He probably thought Bob was only a boy
and could do nothing.
Just as the man mounted the horse, Bob caught him by the side pocket
of his sack coat. The pocket was torn away, and out on the road tumbled
the jewel case.
Bob snatched it up. Seeing what had happened the slim man thought first
to dismount and try to recover the case, but Fitt and several others
were not far off, and he reconsidered the matter and galloped off at
top speed.
“Have you it?” gasped the landlord, anxiously.
“Yes,” and Bob held up the case. “I’ll return it to its owner,” he
added, as Fitt held out his hand for it.
The elderly woman soon appeared on the scene. She was overjoyed to
recover her valuables.
“Better see if they are all there,” suggested one of the crowd.
The woman opened the case, and made a hasty examination.
“All here but a small diamond and ruby cross,” she said, “and that, I
think, was not inside the case, but on a cushion in the top drawer.”
“Then that’s most likely a goner,” said Bob.
He accompanied the elderly woman to her room. Nothing was learned
concerning the cross, and she agreed with Bob that the sneak-thief must
have gotten away with it.
“But it was of small value in comparison to the contents of the case,”
added Mrs. Varley, for such was her name. “The jewels in the case are
worth five hundred dollars.”
“Then it’s a good thing that chap didn’t get away with them,” said Bob
with a smile.
“I must reward you for your service to me.”
“Don’t want any reward.”
“But you have earned it. I would have to pay a detective well to
recover them had that fellow gotten away with them. Here, take this,
with my sincere thanks.”
She handed Bob a bill. He glanced at it. It was for fifty dollars.
“You--you’ve made a mistake,” he said, with something like a gasp.
“How so?”
“This is a fifty-dollar bill.”
“Well?” smiled Mrs. Varley.
“You didn’t mean to give me that much, did you?”
She nodded.
“But it ain’t worth it--not by half. I didn’t do much.”
“Let me be the judge of that. Keep it, and I only hope it gives you as
much pleasure to receive it as it does me to give it.”
“Gee Christopher!” murmured Bob, surveying the crisp bill. “Fifty
dollars! Why, I never had so much money in my life before.”
Mrs. Varley laughed outright.
“Well, let us hope you’ll have a great deal more than that before you
are much older. What is your name?”
Bob told her, and quite a conversation ensued, broken by the entrance
of Fitt, who was still highly excited.
It was nearly half an hour later before Bob left the half-way house.
Mrs. Varley shook hands with him, and wished him luck, and he said he
hoped she would get back her diamond and ruby cross.
“If I ever meet that man again I’ll get it for you, or know the reason
why,” he added.
Frank Landes was surprised to learn what had kept Bob at the hotel so
long.
He listened attentively to the youth’s story.
“Did that slim man have a slight limp when he ran?” he asked.
“I imagine he did. Went this way,” and Bob illustrated as best he could
across the room floor.
“That’s it. He is known as Slippery Paul Bidwell in New York.”
“He was slippery, that’s a fact.”
“He is a professional crook, and lives altogether by his wits. It’s
greatly to your credit that you got the jewel case away from him.”
“It’s fifty dollars to my credit,” laughed Bob. “Say, do you know what
I’m going to do with that money?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea.”
“I’m going to ask you to buy a camera and outfit for me. I’ve been
thinking it over, and I don’t see why I can’t go around the country
taking pictures of houses and so on, and make some money.”
“You can if you learn the business,” returned Frank.
“Will you teach me?”
“I said I would show you all I know. But you ought to get some points
from a regular photographer.”
“I will,” returned Bob, with a sudden determination.
That evening Frank felt much stronger. He opened his outfit, got out
his trays and chemicals, and, by the aid of a ruby light, proceeded to
develop the pictures he had taken since Bob had been with him.
The youth was greatly interested, and watched every part of the process
closely. Both had a hearty laugh over the picture of Carrow plunging
into the hot-bed after the pigs.
“It’s awfully interesting,” declared Bob. “The glass seems to have
nothing on it, and the picture comes out as if by magic when you pour
the developing fluid on it.”
“Here is a first-class book on photography,” replied Frank. “You can’t
do better than study it closely. I will make you a present of it.”
Bob was delighted. He read a great part of the book before going
to bed, and it was astonishing how quick he caught the right idea
concerning the art he intended to make his own.
“I imagine you must have been born a photographer,” said Frank on the
following day, when the two were taking pictures. “You have learned
more in two days about the matter than I learned in a week.”
Frank was still very weak, so the taking of the pictures depended to a
great extent on Bob, and the youth rose fully equal to the occasion.
Before night came they took over a dozen views, and these they
developed at the farm-house at which they put up. One of the pictures
had not been exposed long enough, and Bob took his first lesson in
correcting this mistake.
“As soon as we get to Stampton, I’ll give you a practical lesson in
printing,” said Frank.
Early on the following morning they came upon a circus which was moving
from one city to the next. First came the wagons and chariots--the
latter covered over with canvas to protect the gold leaf from exposure
to the weather--and then followed a herd of elephants and another of
camels.
“By Jove! we must get pictures of these beasts!” cried Frank. “Quick,
Bob, get the camera into shape. They are stopping.”
Something was the matter with one of the wagons ahead, and a temporary
stoppage all along the line ensued.
Bob at once unslung the tripod and set it up. Then the camera was
placed on top, and both hastily sighted the instrument at the camels,
who were standing in a picturesque group.
In half a second the picture was taken.
“Now for the elephants,” said Frank. “Let us catch that big fellow in
front. He is looking directly toward us.”
“And he looks as if he didn’t like it,” added Bob. “See him swaying
from side to side.”
“By Jove! I believe you’re right,” cried the young man. “Gracious! he
is coming this way.”
Frank was right. Unobserved by his keeper, the huge beast was striding
toward them, his trunk high in the air.
“Look out!” yelled Bob. “Something is wrong.”
He had hardly uttered the warning, when the elephant let out a terrific
roar.
The next instant the camera was knocked over and smashed under foot.
And then with another roar the elephant made for Bob and Frank.