BOB ASSISTS A STRANGER
Bob was surprised at the stranger’s words. He shook off the hold the
man had on his throat, and then grasped him by both arms.
“What did you say?” he demanded.
“I said I wanted my money back,” growled the stranger, wildly. “You
drugged me, and I know it, Jim Casco.”
Again the man stared at Bob, and then to both sides.
“I must be off,” he hiccoughed. “I thought I was still in Cabot’s
place.”
“Is Cabot’s a saloon?”
“It’s a saloon and a thieves’ den,” growled the man. “Gosh! how my head
spins.”
“And you think you were drugged?”
“Of course I was. Ordinary liquor wouldn’t knock me out like this.”
“You said something about a Jim Casco.”
“That’s the man--heard the barkeeper call him by the name, but he got
hushed up pretty quick.”
“Where did you meet this Casco?”
[Illustration: THERE WAS AN EXPLOSION AND BOB WAS HURLED BACKWARD.]
The drugged man gave a deep sigh. He was gradually coming to his
right senses. Bob got some water and bathed his head, after which the
victim felt better.
“Let me think. Oh, yes, I met this Casco down by the river. There was
an Irishman with him----”
“What was his name?”
“This Casco called him Mike. But, say, who are you?”
“I know those rascals, and I am willing to be your friend,” returned
Bob.
“Good for you. And your handle?”
“Bob Alden.”
“Mine is Walter Anderson. I came to Stampton from Buffalo a month ago,
and I’ve been making pretty much of a fool of myself ever since. But I
wish I had my money back.”
“How much did you have with you?”
“About thirty dollars.”
“And it’s gone?”
“Every cent of it, hang the luck!”
Bob thought for a moment.
“Would you mind showing me the way to Cabot’s place?”
“Certainly not. Come on. I’m feeling better than I did a while ago.”
Walter Anderson led the way down the street, and into a dirty square
fronting the river.
“See that fancy light over on the corner?”
“Yes.”
“That’s it. Cabot calls it the Rivermen’s Rest. It is nothing but a
thieves’ den.”
“Now listen to me,” said Bob, earnestly. “If I go in, will you stay
here till I come out?”
“Yes, but----”
“I will see if this Casco and Mike are inside. If they are, I will let
you know, and you can summon assistance, and we can have them arrested.”
“Good enough.”
Anderson took a seat on a stepping stone near the curb. Pulling his
hat far down over his eyes, and turning up his collar in true “tough”
style, Bob made his way toward the Rivermen’s Rest.
Nothing could be seen from the outside but the lights, as the screens
were tightly drawn over windows and doors.
Bob hesitated only a moment, then he opened one of the doors and
entered.
A cloud of thick and rank tobacco smoke greeted him, mingled with the
smell of stale liquors.
“Phew! enough to make a decent man sick!” was the youth’s mental
comment. “How anybody can love to come to such a place is past my
comprehension.”
The place was a long and narrow one. In the rear was a sort of
restaurant, and, seeing a vacant table, Bob walked over to it, and
dropped into a seat.
“A sandwich and a cup of coffee,” he said to the dirty waiter who came
to take his order.
While the waiter was filling the order Bob gazed around him, and his
keen eyes took in every detail of the place.
Not far behind him was a door leading to a side room. This door stood
partly ajar, and by pushing his chair back a little distance from the
table, Bob was enabled to see into this apartment.
At a table in the middle of the small room were seated an old man and
a middle-aged woman. The old man, it was plain to see, was little
better than a sot. His clothes were worn out and dirty, and his general
appearance showed that he had long since lost all pride.
The woman was quite lady-like in appearance and well dressed. She
seemed to be expostulating with the old man.
“Why don’t you leave them, father, and turn over a new leaf?” Bob heard
her say.
“That’s all right enough to say,” growled the old man, in return. “I
can’t leave ’em.”
“Yes, you can.”
“If I did, how would I get along?”
“I will help you.”
“Bosh! Your help wouldn’t amount to enough. It costs money to live.”
“It costs money to drink,” she cried. “Otherwise----”
Bob did not catch any more of the conversation. Presently, just as the
waiter came with the youth’s order, the lady arose and left by a side
door.
“She looked out of place here,” thought Bob. “If that is her father, I
pity her.”
In vain Bob scanned the faces of those already in the place, and those
who came in. Nothing was to be seen of Casco and Grogan.
“They must have left before I got here,” thought Bob. “I wonder if I
can find out where they went.”
He ate his sandwich slowly, but even when he had finished he was still
in doubt as to how to proceed.
But just as he was about to arise, some one came through a hall-way in
the back, and entered the little side room.
“Well, Blake, did you think I wouldn’t get back?” asked the newcomer of
the old man.
“You’ve been a long time,” mumbled the old man.
“I couldn’t help it. Where is the girl?”
“Gone.”
“Good! I don’t want to run against her any more.”
“Sarah ain’t like she used to be,” was the reply.
Bob listened with great interest to this talk. The old man’s name was
Blake, and the woman was spoken of as Sarah. Could she be the Sarah
Blake Barker had mentioned?
“If she is, I must meet her and talk to her by all means,” said Bob to
himself. “She must know something about the past.”
Bob wondered who the newcomer was, but he was not kept in doubt long.
The voice sounded slightly familiar from the start, and presently the
speaker spoke up louder, and the youth made the astonishing discovery
that the man was James Casco in disguise.
The scar-faced man wore a heavy beard and mustache, and was dressed in
the garb of a waterman.
“I have located him at last,” thought Bob. “Now to see that he does not
escape me.”
Casco and the old man entered into a low conversation, of which Bob
heard but little, although he tried his best to make out what was being
said.
Presently the two arose, and slipped out of a door into the back hall.
“They are going up-stairs,” was Bob’s conclusion. “I wonder if I dare
follow them?”
Arising, he walked to the desk, and settled for what he had had. Then
he pretended to be interested in a number of pictures hanging on the
walls.
Gradually he drifted back toward the side room, and, watching his
chance to see that he was not observed, he slipped into the apartment,
and swiftly but silently made his way to the hall.
Here only a smoky lamp, hanging from the ceiling, lit up the place,
leaving all in semi-darkness.
No one appeared to be in the hall, and, listening intently so as not to
be caught napping, Bob ascended the stairs.
“I suppose if they found me here, and knew what I was after, it would
go hard with me,” he thought. “Well, I am in this game to win, and I’ll
prove to them yet that I am not a nobody.”
Arriving at the upper hall, Bob paused and peered around. All was dark
save for a thin ray of light that shone from under the door to one of
the middle rooms.
Approaching this door Bob listened for several minutes. At first he
could hear nothing, but gradually there came to his ears the voices of
four men in earnest conversation.
The four men appeared to be in a room beyond the one opening upon the
hall. Should Bob enter the first room?
“I’ll go the length of the string,” he said, bravely. “It is the only
way to capture them. I wonder if that Walter Anderson is still on
guard?”
He tried the door, and, finding it unlocked, pushed it open.
The room appeared to be a sort of lodge-room, with half a dozen benches
scattered around, and a desk and chair at one end.
A lamp stood on the desk, which was piled high with papers.
Opposite the desk was the door leading to the room in which were the
four men. This door stood on a crack, and tiptoeing his way forward,
Bob peered in and beheld Casco and Blake on one side of a table with
Barker and Mike Grogan on the other.
“All of them,” he muttered to himself. “What a haul it would make if
the police were only here at this moment.”
He was about to leave and summon help, when he heard Barker mention his
name.
“Yes, I had a hard time of it getting away,” went on the man. “I tell
you that boy is smart.”
“He comes from a smart family,” put in old Blake. “His father----”
“Hush!” cried Barker, hastily. “None of that here.”
“Well, just as you say, Bill,” returned the old man. “But I reckon you
will have a job with Sarah----”
Barker put up his hand, and the old man broke off at once.
“Well, how about that money?” demanded Grogan. “Sure, an’ we have
waited long enough fer it, so we have.”
“And we’ll have to wait a while longer.”
“Phat fer?”
“The Jew has got into trouble.”
“How?”
“Over some stolen goods a jeweller’s clerk sold him. We have got to
take the stuff to somebody else.”
“Sure, an’ ’tis a shame,” growled Grogan. “We’ve had more throuble
about that swag than enny Oi ever seen befure.”
“That’s true,” said Casco. “But the whole thing will be settled by next
week, and then we’ll be off for the big haul.”
“And I’m to be in that?” put in old Blake, eagerly.
“You are,” said Barker.
Suddenly Casco jumped to his feet.
“I forgot to ask Cabot about something,” he cried. “Just wait till I
come back.”
He made for the door. Bob tried to retreat, but he was too late. Out in
the hall Casco overtook him, and caught him by the shoulder.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“Let me go!” cried Bob.
He tried to break away, but the scar-faced man held him fast.
“Hullo, it’s that Bob Alden! How did you get in here?”
“Walked in. Let me go!”
“Oh, I’ll let you go!” returned Casco, sarcastically. “Hi, there, boys,
here’s a spy!”
“Sure, an’ who is it?”
Barker ran out, and aided Casco in dragging Bob into the lodge-room.
Then before they released him the door was closed and locked.