CHAPTER XVII.
PREPARING FOR A JOURNEY
Cranston was six miles away – too far to walk. The Misses Peabody did not keep a horse. Indeed, one would have been of very little use to them, for both were timid, and neither would have been willing to drive.
“You are not afraid to drive to Cranston, Andy?” said Miss Sally.
“No; what should I be afraid of?” asked our hero.
“You are not timid about horses, then?”
Andy laughed.
“I should think not,” he replied. “I only wish mother could afford to keep a horse.”
“I think they are terrible creatures. They are so strong, and sometimes they are so contrary,” said Miss Susan, with a shudder.
“Then you should use the whip on them, Miss Susan.”
“I wouldn’t dare to.”
“Well, I’m not afraid. I only wish I were in Add Bean’s place. He is driving around every day with his father’s horse.”
The boy referred to – Addison Bean, called Add, for short – was one of Andy’s schoolmates at the academy, and was quite as fond of driving as Andy himself.
“I wonder if we couldn’t engage Mr. Bean’s horse and carriage? Will you see?”
“Yes; it is a good one, and I should like to drive it.”
Andy called at Mr. Bean’s and succeeded in his errand. The horse was to be ready for him at nine o’clock.
“What are you going to Cranston for, Andy?” asked Mr. Bean.
“To the bank, for the Peabody girls.”
That’s what all the villagers call them, in spite of their age.
“Then I suppose you will carry money with you?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t let anybody know your errand, then.”
“Do you think there is any danger?”
“There is always danger when a man is supposed to be carrying money. A boy is still more in danger.”
“I won’t tell anybody my errand.”
“You haven’t seen anything of that burglar you scalded the other night?”
“No.”
“I should like to have been near at the time.”
“I wish you had,” said Andy.
Mr. Bean was a deputy sheriff, and a strong, powerful man, who had more than once been called upon to arrest noted criminals.
Mr. Bean gave Andy another suggestion, which proved of value to him. What it was, the reader will ascertain in due time.
Andy got into the carriage – a buggy – and drove round to the house of the maiden ladies. He fastened the horse at the fence, and, opening the gate, went in.
“Have you got the money ready, Miss Peabody?” he asked, addressing Miss Susan.
“Here it is, Andy – four hundred and fifty dollars.”
“But I thought,” said Andy, in surprise, “that there were five hundred dollars?”
The two sisters looked at each other significantly.
“We have another use for fifty dollars,” said Miss Sally.
“All right!” said Andy, who did not suppose that this was a matter with which he had anything to do.
“In fact,” she continued, “we are going to give it to you.”
“Going to give me fifty dollars?” Andy exclaimed, in amazement.
“Yes.”
And here Miss Susan spoke.
“We feel that it is due to you on account of the bravery you showed the other night.”
“I thank you very much!” said Andy, quite overwhelmed at this munificence; “but it is altogether too much for me to receive.”
“We are the judges of that. You can make good use of the money, or your mother can, and we shan’t miss it.”
Andy knew that both these statements were quite true, and he thankfully accepted the generous gift. It was arranged that he should call and get it on his return from the bank.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE RIDE TO CRANSTON
Andy set out on his trip in high spirits. It was a fine morning. The air was pleasant and bracing, and the sun shed a flood of glory over the landscape.
Andy enjoyed school and school studies, but nevertheless it did seem to him that there was more pleasure in riding over the hills to Cranston than in poring over the pages of Virgil in Dr. Euclid’s classroom.
Then again, it was a rare pleasure for him to have the guidance of a horse. His mother had never been able to keep one, and though now and then he got a chance to ride with a neighbor, it occurred but seldom. Sometimes his friend and schoolmate, Add Bean, took him in, but was generally reluctant to yield the reins, being fond of driving himself.
There was another cause for his high spirits. The handsome present which he had just received he looked upon as a veritable windfall. Fifty dollars in his mother’s economical establishment would go a good way. It would enable them to buy some necessary articles which otherwise must be dispensed with. For instance, Andy himself needed a new suit very much, but he had not troubled his mother with asking for one, because he didn’t know where the money was to come from to buy it.
When the money contained in his father’s wallet arrived, he was somewhat encouraged, but now with this fresh supply there was no doubt that he would feel justified in spending a part for the needed suit.
“I wonder what has become of the burglar?” thought Andy, as he rode smoothly along the road. “Wouldn’t he like to know where I am going, and on what errand? He would find it easier to master me here than he did the other night.”
Scarcely had this thought passed through his mind when he was hailed by a stranger whom he had just passed on the road.
It was a young man, slender and well dressed, with a ready smile and a set of dazzling white teeth. He would be considered good looking, but his face was not one to inspire confidence in a thoughtful observer.
“My young friend, are you going to Cranston?”
“Yes,” answered Andy.
“So am I. Is it far?”
“About five miles from here.”
Andy had already gone a mile on his way.
“Five miles! Whew! that is a distance. I say, haven’t you got room for one more?”
Ordinarily Andy would have been entirely willing to take in a passenger, being naturally sociable and obliging, but now he was made cautious by the nature of his errand and the knowledge of the large sum of money which he was carrying. He halted his horse and looked perplexed.
“Come, be obliging,” said the stranger, with affected frankness.
“You are a stranger,” said Andy, hesitatingly.
“Well, suppose I am. I haven’t got the smallpox or any other contagious disorder,” laughed the young man.
“I wasn’t thinking of that.”
“Come, you don’t mind making a little money. I’ll give you a dollar if you’ll give me a ride.”
“It isn’t worth a dollar,” said Andy, honestly.
“Oh, I don’t insist upon paying so much! If you’ll take me for fifty cents, all the better.”
“I might as well,” thought Andy. “Of course, he can know nothing of my errand, and it’s an easy way to earn fifty cents. I don’t want to be too cowardly.” “Well,” he said, after a pause, “I’ll take you. Jump in!”
“Enough said,” returned the other.
And he lost no time in availing himself of the invitation.
They talked together on indifferent topics till Andy reached the lonely part of the road already referred to, when a sudden change came over his companion.
“Now to business!” he said, in a quick, stern voice. “Give me that money you have in your pocket, and be quick about it!”
Turning hastily, Andy confronted a pistol in the hands of his companion. It was held within six inches of his head, and might well have startled an older person than Andy.
CHAPTER XIX.
FOILING A HIGHWAYMAN
Of course Andy was startled when he saw the pistol in close proximity to his head. I feel no hesitation in admitting that he felt far from comfortable. Some heroes are represented as startled by nothing, and afraid of nothing; but though Andy was unusually self-possessed for his years, he was not above the ordinary emotions of humanity.
Still, he did not lose his presence of mind utterly, nor was he willing to surrender at discretion, though it did occur to him that he was in an uncommonly tight place.
More for the sake of gaining time to think than because he really needed the information, he asked, with a calmness which he did not feel:
“What do you mean, sir?”
“What do I mean?” repeated his companion, with a sneer. “If you are not a fool, you ought to know what I mean.”
“I suppose you are playing a joke on me,” said Andy, innocently.
“Does this look like a joke?” asked the young man, with a significant nod at the pistol which he held in his hand.
“Is it loaded?” asked Andy.
“Loaded?” retorted the other. “I could blow off the roof of your head with it.”
“I hope you won’t, then,” said our hero, looking anxiously in advance, hoping to see some approaching vehicle.
If so, he would be safe, for his companion, desperate though he might be, would not venture in that case to risk capture and the long term of imprisonment to which such a daring attempt at highway robbery would expose him to.
“I have no time for fooling!” said the young man, sharply. “Give me that money you have in your possession, or it will be the worse for you.”
“What money?” asked Andy.
“The money you are carrying to Cranston to deposit in the bank for the old women in Hamilton.”
“Where could he have found out about it?” thought Andy. “I wish somebody would come along.”
Anything to gain time!
“Pray don’t take it from me, Mr. Robber!” said Andy, pretending to be overcome with terror. “They will think I took it.”
“I can’t help that.”
“And they will have me put in jail. Oh, don’t take it from me!”
“The boy is pretty well scared,” said the robber to himself. “I didn’t think he would wilt down so easily. He seems a little soft.”
“I’ll attend to that,” he said aloud. “I’ll write them an anonymous letter, saying that I took it from you.”
“That will be better,” said Andy, seeming relieved.
“Then hand it over.”
“I won’t exactly give it to you,” said Andy; “but you can take it.”
So saying, he drew a large wallet from his inside pocket, and, before his companion could grasp it, threw it some rods away by the roadside.
“There,” he said; “you see I didn’t give it to you, though I can’t help your taking it.”
His companion’s eyes glistened as he saw the plethoric wallet lying by the roadside.
“Stop the horse!” he exclaimed, jerking at the reins. “I’ll get out here.”
“All right!” said Andy. “You’ll be sure to write to Miss Peabody that I couldn’t help giving you the money?”
“Oh, yes! What a simpleton he is!” thought the highwayman, as he sprang from the buggy, and hurried in the direction of the wallet, now some little distance back.
As soon as he had gotten rid of his companion, Andy brought down his whip with emphasis on the back of his spirited horse, and dashed over the road at great speed.
The young man smiled as he heard the flying wheels.
“He’s pretty well scared,” he thought. “Well, he can go to Cranston as fast as he pleases, now that I have what I was after.”
He stooped and picked up the wallet, and opened it to feast his eyes on the thick roll of bank bills, but was overcome with rage, fury and disappointment when he found that the supposed treasure consisted only of rolls of brown paper, so folded as to swell out the wallet and give the impression of value.
“The artful young scoundrel!” he exclaimed, between his closed teeth. “He has made a fool of me, and I all the time looked upon him as a simpleton. What shall I say to Hogan, who put me up to this job?”
He had a momentary idea of pursuing Andy, but by this time the buggy was a long distance ahead, and every minute was increasing the distance.
To pursue it with any expectation of overtaking it would have been the merest folly. It was hard to give up so rich a prize, but there seemed no help for it.
“I wish I could wring the young rascal’s neck,” thought the baffled highwayman. “He was fooling me all the time, and now he is chuckling over the trick he has played upon me. How shall I meet Hogan?”
The young man hesitated a moment, and then plunged into the woods that skirted the road.
Continuing his walk for five minutes, he came to a secluded spot, where, under a tree, reclined an old acquaintance of ours – in brief, Mr. Michael Hogan.
Hogan’s face was red and inflamed, and his eyes were sore. He was suffering from the severe scalding which had rewarded his attempt to enter the house of the Misses Peabody.
He looked up quickly as he heard the approach of his confederate, and demanded, eagerly:
“Well, Bill, did you see the boy?”
“Yes, I saw him.”
“And you have got the money?” asked Hogan, with like eagerness.
“I have got that,” answered the younger man, as he displayed the deceptive wallet.
“Give it to me.”
“You are welcome to all you can find in it.”
Hogan opened the wallet quickly. When he saw the contents, he turned upon his confederate with lowering brow.
“What does this mean?” he demanded, in a harsh voice.
“It means that I have been fooled,” said Bill, bitterly.
“Who has fooled you?” asked Hogan, with an angry look.
“The boy! I tell you, Hogan, he’s a smart one.”
“I don’t understand this. I believe you are deceiving me,” said the older man, suspiciously.
“Think what you please,” said Bill, sullenly. “It is as I say.”
“Didn’t you take out the bills and replace them with worthless paper?”
“No, I didn’t. I wouldn’t dare play such a trick on you. I know you are a desperate and reckless man, and I wouldn’t try it.”
“Then will you explain this foolery?” said Hogan, sharply. “Why did you let the boy palm off this worthless paper on you?”
“I’ll tell you all about it,” said Bill, convinced that his personal safety required him to allay the evident suspicion of the old man.
Thereupon he told the story, which is already familiar to the reader.
“You’re a fool!” said Hogan, with bitter harshness. “Bah! are you not a match for a boy of sixteen?”
“He may be only sixteen,” said Bill, doggedly; “but he’s no baby, I can tell you that! As to not being a match for him, you know something about that.”
Mike Hogan sprang to his feet, livid with fury at this allusion to what was, with him, a very sore subject.
“If you dare to mention that affair again,” he said, “I’ll brain you!” and he looked quite capable of carrying out his threat.
“We ought to be revenged upon him,” declared Bill, hurriedly, anxious to divert the wrath of the elder man into a channel less menacing to himself. “I have a plan – ”
“Out with it!”
“The boy will have to come back along the same road.”
“Well?”
“Let’s lie in wait for him.”
“But he will have deposited the money in the bank. It will do no good – ”
“Not in the way of money, but you can be revenged upon him for the way he treated you the other night.”
This allusion evoked another oath from the desperate and angry ruffian, but on the whole the plan pleased him. He thirsted for revenge upon the boy to whom he was indebted, not alone for foiling him in his attempted robbery, but who had entailed upon him so much physical suffering.
“There’s something in that,” he said. “If I get hold of him, I will give him something to remember me by!”
The lawless pair posted themselves near the road, yet in concealment, and waited impatiently for the return of Andy from the Cranston Bank.
CHAPTER XX.
PERKINS, THE DETECTIVE
After parting with his troublesome traveling companion, Andy lost no time in continuing on his way to the Cranston Bank, where he had the satisfaction of depositing the four hundred and fifty dollars which had been intrusted to him.
“I am glad to get rid of the money,” said Andy, breathing a deep sigh of relief as he received back the bank-book.
“People are not usually glad to get rid of money,” said the receiving teller.
“There is too much responsibility about it,” said Andy. “Twice I have had a narrow escape from robbery.”
“Were you the boy that proved more than a match for a burglar, Saturday night?” asked the teller, with interest.
“Have you heard of it, then?” asked Andy, in surprise.
“Oh, yes! Such news travels fast. We have every reason for informing ourselves of the movements of lawbreakers and burglars. You are a plucky boy.”
“Thank you!” said Andy, modestly. “I don’t know about that.”
“Not many boys would have stood a midnight siege as well as you did.”
“I was in more danger this morning,” said Andy, quietly.
“How?” asked the teller and the other employees of the bank, who had heard Andy’s statement, and came up to hear what he had to say.
“I was stopped by a highwayman this morning, on my way from Hamilton.”
“You don’t say so! Was it the same one?”
“No; it was a younger man. I suppose you haven’t heard of that?” he added, smiling.
“No; we shall get our information from the chief actor in the adventure. How was it?”
Andy told his story, and the narration increased the high opinion which the bank officials already had begun to entertain of his courage and shrewdness.
“That was a capital idea – having a decoy wallet with you,” said Mr. Smith, the receiving teller.
“It was not my idea, though,” said Andy, modestly. “It was Mr. Bean who recommended it.”
“The fellow must have been disappointed when he saw what he had captured,” suggested the paying teller.
“I suppose he was,” responded Andy, with a laugh, “but I didn’t wait to find out. I gave the horse the whip, and left the place as fast as he could carry me.”
“Are you not afraid the man may lie in wait for you on your way home?”
“I thought of that, but I have left the money here. It wouldn’t do him any good to take the bank-book.”
“That is true, but he may wish to be revenged upon you.”
“That is so, but there is no help for it. There is no other road to take, and I must chance it.”
Andy took the matter lightly, but it occurred to the bank officials that he stood in danger of being seriously injured.
“You ought not to go back alone,” said the paying teller.
“Where shall I find company.”
Just then a man entered the bank, and presented a check.
“The very man!” said the receiving teller. “He will go with you.”
Andy looked at the newcomer, and was led to doubt whether such a man would be of much service to him. He was a short, slender man, of thirty-five, very quiet in his manner, with hair inclined to be red.
Andy knew many of the citizens of Cranston, but never remembered meeting with this man.
“Mr. Perkins,” said the paying teller, “you heard of the attempted burglary at Hamilton on Saturday night?”
“Yes; that is partly what I came to this neighborhood about,” answered Mr. Perkins, quietly.
“You see that boy?”
“Yes.”
“It is the boy who defended the house and foiled the burglar.”
Mr. Perkins dropped his air of quiet. His eyes and features betrayed a strong feeling of interest as he turned to Andy.
“My young friend,” he said, “you are the very person I most wished to see. Will you answer me a few questions?”
“Yes, sir, with pleasure.”
“What was the appearance of the man who attempted to enter the house where the money was kept?”
Andy gave, as nearly as he could, a description of Hogan and his peculiarities.
Perkins listened attentively, nodding from time to time with a satisfied expression.
“I know the man,” he said. “I didn’t think he was in this part of the country, but I am glad to hear that he is so near. I think I can put a spoke in his wheel.”
“Who is it?” asked the paying teller.
“A man with more than one name. He is best known as Mike Hogan, though I am not sure whether this is his real name or not.”
“I wonder if the other man is one of his friends?” said Andy, musingly.
“The other man?” repeated Mr. Perkins, inquiringly.
“Yes, the man that tried to rob me this morning.”
“This is something new to me,” returned the detective. “Was an attempt made upon you this morning?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Tell me about it.”
Of course, Andy gave for the second time an account of his morning’s adventure.
The detective listened with the closest attention.
“Unquestionably the two men are in league together,” he said.
“Have you any idea who the younger man is?” asked the teller.
“No; it may be any one of half a dozen. The description will fit quite a number of my acquaintances. My theory is that Hogan was near at hand when the attack was made, and that he instigated it. I presume that it was from him that the younger man learned that you were likely to come this way with the money in your possession.”
“I didn’t think of that,” said Andy.
“Of course not. You know nothing of the ways of these gentry. The less you are compelled to know of them, the better for you. When are you going back?”
“I am ready now.”
“We thought the boy might be stopped again,” said Mr. Smith.
“It is altogether likely,” said Mr. Perkins, quietly.
“And we recommended him not to go alone, as of course he would be no match for a man.”
“He has proved himself a match in two instances,” said Perkins, with a glance of approval at our hero. “Still, he might not always be so lucky. However, he won’t be abliged to go back alone, as I will ask a seat in his carriage.”
“I shall be very glad to have you come, sir,” said Andy, politely.
“Can you wait fifteen minutes?”
“Oh, yes, sir!”
“I am staying at the hotel. I need to go there for a short time.”
“All right, sir.”
“Stay here, and I will join you very shortly.”
The hotel was just across the street. Andy whiled away the time in the house, but he did not have to wait long.
A lady, neatly attired in an alpaca dress, entered from the street, and coming up to our hero, said:
“Are you ready?”
Andy stared at her in surprise.
She raised a green veil, and with some difficulty he recognized the features of Perkins, the detective.
“They won’t be afraid of a woman,” said Perkins, with a meaning smile. “Come along!”