CHAPTER XXVIII
SAM FINDS A RELATION
As my readers may feel interested in the subsequent adventures of the mysterious passenger, I may state that his extraordinary coolness did not save him. A description of his appearance had been sent to the neighboring towns, and only a few hours after he had left the ferry-boat he was arrested, and taken back to the scene of his theft. A trial was held immediately, and before the end of the week he found himself an inmate of the county jail.
On the day succeeding his departure, Bob brought the boat to anchor at a place we will call Sheldon.
There was no restaurant, and Bob and Sam took supper at the Sheldon Hotel.
Clip had been sent on shore first, and the boys felt in no hurry to return. They accordingly sat down on a settee upon the veranda which ran along the front of the hotel.
As they sat there, unknown to themselves they attracted the attention of a middle-aged man with sandy hair and complexion, whose glances, however, seemed to be especially directed towards Sam.
Finally, he approached the boys and commenced a conversation.
"Young gentlemen," he said, "you are strangers here, I imagine?"
"Yes, sir," replied Bob.
"Are you traveling through the country?"
"We have a boat on the river, sir; but we generally tie up at night, and start fresh in the morning."
"How far do you intend going?"
"To St. Louis."
"Pardon my curiosity, but it is not common for two boys of your age to undertake such an enterprise alone. Are you in charge of the boat?"
"He is," said Sam, indicating Bob.
"And you, I suppose, are a relative of his?"
"No, sir; I help him."
"Have you come from a distance?"
"Decidedly," thought Bob, "this gentleman is very curious."
Still there seemed to be no reason for concealment, and accordingly he mentioned the name of the village in which Sam and himself made their home.
Their new acquaintance appeared to take extraordinary interest in this intelligence.
"Is there a man named Wolverton who lives in your town?" he asked.
"Yes," answered Bob, in surprise; "Aaron Wolverton."
"Exactly. This young man," indicating Sam, "has the Wolverton look."
Now it was Sam's turn to be surprised.
"I am Sam Wolverton," he said. "Do you know my uncle?"
"I not only know him, but I knew your father, if you are the son of John Wolverton."
"That was my father's name."
"Then I am a relative. My name is Robert Granger, and I am a cousin of your mother."
"My mother's maiden name was Granger," said Sam, becoming very much, interested. "Do you live here, sir?"
"Yes; I have lived in Sheldon for the last ten years. I came from Ohio originally. It was there that your father met my cousin Fanny, and married her. Do you live with your Uncle Aaron?"
"I have been living with him," answered Sam, hesitating.
"Does that mean that you have left him?" asked Mr. Granger, quickly.
Sam looked inquiringly at Bob. He hardly knew whether it would be advisable for him to take this stranger, relation though he were, into his confidence.
Bob answered his unspoken inquiry.
"Tell him all, Sam," he said.
"I have left my Uncle Aaron," said Sam, "without his consent. I hid on board Bob's boat, and got away."
"You have run away, then?"
"Yes, sir; you may blame me for doing so, but you would not if you knew how meanly Uncle Aaron has treated me!"
"I know Aaron Wolverton, and I am far from admiring him," said Robert Granger. "But in what way has he ill-treated you?"
"He made me work very hard, and would not always give me enough to eat. He keeps a very plain table."
"But why should he make you work hard?"
"He said I ought to earn my living."
"Did he say that?"
"Yes, whenever I complained. He asked me what would have become of me if he had not given me a home."
"The old hypocrite! And what has he done with your property?"
"My property!" repeated Sam, hardly believing his ears.
"Yes. Of course you know that you have property, and that your Uncle Aaron is your guardian?"
"I never knew that I had a cent of money, sir. Uncle always said that my father died very poor."
"Your father, to my knowledge, left property to the amount of five thousand dollars."
"That is all news to me, Mr. Granger."
"And to me," added Bob. "I heard Mr. Wolverton tell my father the same story, that John Wolverton died without a cent, and that he had taken in Sam out of charity."
"He seems to have taken him in, emphatically."
"In what did the property consist?" asked Bob.
"In a house, situated in St. Louis – a small house in the outskirts of the city – and some shares of bank stock."
"He thought Sam would never find out anything of it."
"I should not, if I had not met you, Mr. Granger."
"Old Aaron Wolverton is a long-headed man; but even long-headed men sometimes over-reach themselves, and I think he has done so in this instance."
"But what can I do, sir? I am only a boy, and if I should say anything about the matter to Uncle Aaron he would deny it, and perhaps treat me the worse."
"There is one thing Aaron Wolverton is afraid of, and that is the law. He doesn't care for the honesty or dishonesty of a transaction, but he doesn't mean to let the law trip him up. That is the hold we shall have upon him."
"I believe you there," said Bob. "He has already tried to swindle my mother, and he is scheming now to get possession of our ranch. It is partly on that account that I started on this trip down the river."
"Do you carry freight, then?"
"Yes, sir; I carry a thousand bushels of wheat – rather more, in fact – intending to sell them in St. Louis."
"Couldn't you have sent them?"
"Yes, sir; but by taking the wheat to market myself I shall save the heavy expense of freight, and commission for selling."
"You seem to be a smart boy," said Robert Granger, eying Bob with interest.
"I hope you are right," Bob answered, with a laugh.
"My young cousin accompanies you to help, I suppose?"
"He came on board at the last moment, having determined to run away from Aaron Wolverton."
"I wish you could spare him; I should like to take him home to talk over family matters with myself and my lawyer, and we would concert some way of forcing Aaron Wolverton to give up his property. I have some children of my own, who would be glad to make his acquaintance."
"Would you like to accept Mr. Granger's invitation, Sam?" asked Bob.
"But I am afraid you will need me, Bob."
"No; I have Clip. I think it will be well for you to stay. I will call on my way back."
So it was arranged that Sam should leave the boat and stay over. Bob returned to the boat alone.
The next day proved to be an eventful one.
CHAPTER XXIX
ROCKY CREEK LANDING
Twenty miles further down the river, at a point called Rocky Creek, two men of questionable appearance were walking slowly along the bank. One of them has been already introduced as visiting the boat, and displaying a great deal of curiosity about the cargo. The other, also, had the look of one who preferred to live in any other way than by honest industry.
"Suppose the boy doesn't touch here?" said one.
"Our plan would in that case be put out," said his companion; "but I don't think there is any doubt on that point. Last night he was at Sheldon, and this would naturally be the next stopping-place."
"He is drawing near the end of his cruise. It won't do to delay much longer."
"You are right, there."
"I wasn't in favor of delaying so long. We have risked failure."
"Don't worry, Minton. I'm managing this affair. I've got just as much at stake as you."
"If all comes out right, I shall be satisfied; but I need the money I am to get for it from old Wolverton."
"That's a trifle. I am playing for a larger stake than that."
"What, then?"
"The paltry fifty dollars divided between two would not have tempted me. Do you know, Minton, how large and valuable a cargo there is on that old ferry-boat?"
"No; do you?"
"Not exactly; but I know this much, that there are at least a thousand bushels of wheat, which will easily fetch, in St. Louis, two thousand dollars."
"How will that benefit us?"
"You seem to be very dull, Minton. When we have once shut up young Burton in the place arranged, you and I will take his place, drift down the river, and dispose of the cargo, if necessary, at a point below the market price, and retire with a cool thousand apiece."
"You've got a head, Brown!" said Minton, admiringly.
"Have you just found that out?" returned Brown, complacently.
"Do you really think there is a chance of our succeeding?"
"Yes; of course we must be expeditious. Two or three days, now, ought to carry us to St. Louis. Then, by selling below the market price, we can command an immediate sale. Then, of course, we will clear out; go to California, or Europe, or Canada."
"But we must get Wolverton's money."
"If we can without risk. It won't be worth that."
"I don't like the idea of the old man escaping scot-free."
"He won't; you may be sure of that," said Brown, significantly. "He has placed himself in our power, and we will get a good deal more than fifty dollars out of him before we get through, or my name isn't Brown."
"What a head you've got!" repeated Minton, with cordial admiration of the sharper rascal.
"Then there's the other affair, too!" said Brown. "We are safe to make a good round sum out of that."
"Yes; but how can we look after the other? It won't be safe for us to remain anywhere in this locality if we sell the cargo."
"Leave that to me, Minton. I will get Joe Springer to negotiate for us."
By this time the reader will have guessed that these two men were those already referred to as having stopped Wolverton on the night preceding Bob's departure. The arrangement then made, Brown had improved upon. He had engaged to remove the boys from the boat, and set it adrift. But it had occurred to him, after ascertaining the value of the cargo, to sell it for the joint benefit of his confederate and himself. It was the most promising job he had undertaken for a long time, and he was sanguine of ultimate success. He had followed the boat down the river, and had finally selected Rocky Creek as the point most favorable to the carrying out of his design.
Meanwhile Bob and Clip were on their way down the river. Sam, as already described, had left them at Sheldon, and was enjoying himself as the guest of Captain Granger, as he found his kinsman was called. Bob missed him, not finding Clip, though improved, as reliable as Sam. But he was drawing near the end of his voyage and was willing to make the sacrifice, since it seemed to be so favorable to Sam's prospects. The information which had been communicated to them touching Aaron Wolverton's breach of trust did not, on the whole, surprise him, except by its audacity; for Wolverton had thus far been careful not to place himself within reach of the law and its penalties. He was delighted to think Sam had found a new friend and protector, who would compel the unfaithful guardian to account for his dishonesty.
Clip heartily sympathized with Bob in his feeling upon the subject. He liked Sam, but disliked Wolverton as much as one of his easy, careless disposition was capable of doing.
"It seems lonely without Sam," said Bob, while standing at the helm, with Clip sitting on deck whistling just beside him.
"Dat's so, Massa Bob."
"But I am glad he has found a relation who will help him to get his money."
"I'd like to see ol' man Wolverton when Sam come back with Massa Granger."
"Probably you will have a chance to see him. If he hadn't driven Sam away by his bad treatment he would never have found out how he had been cheated."
"Dat's so, Massa Bob. I'd like to be in Sam's shoes."
"You'd have to make your feet smaller, then, Clip!"
"Yah! yah!" laughed Clip, who enjoyed a joke at his own expense.
Bob found his work harder now that Sam was not on board to relieve him of a part of his duty. But they were making good speed, and there seemed a chance of reaching St. Louis within three days. All was going well, yet an indefinable anxiety troubled Bob. Why, he could not explain.
"Clip," he said, "I don't know how it is, but I feel as if something were going to happen."
"What can happen, Massa Bob? De boat is all right."
"True, Clip. I suppose I am foolish, but I can't get rid of the feeling. Clip, I want you to be very careful to-night. Don't let any mysterious passenger come on board."
"No, Massa Bob. I won't do dat agin."
"We shall soon be in St. Louis, and then our care and anxiety will be over."
"Where will we stop to-night?"
"At Rocky Creek."
It was a quarter to five when Bob reached the place where he had decided to tie up. There was a village of about five hundred inhabitants situated a little distance from the river-side. A small knot of loungers was gathered at the landing, and with languid interest surveyed the river craft and the young crew.
Among them Bob recognized the man who had visited them two or three stations back. He knew him by his dress; the Prince Albert coat, the damaged hat, and the loud neck-tie. But apart from these he remembered the face, dark and unshaven, and the shifty black eyes, which naturally inspired distrust. The man made no movement towards the boat, but leaned indolently against a tree.
"Clip," said Bob, quietly, "look at that man leaning against a tree."
"I see him, Massa Bob."
"Have you ever seen him before?"
"Yes, Massa Bob; he came aboard de boat one day."
"I thought I couldn't be mistaken. I wonder how he comes to be here. Can he be following us?"
It was too hard a problem for Clip, who only shrugged his shoulders.
Just then another man from the assembled group lounged on board. It was Minton.
"Boat ahoy!" said he, jauntily. "Are you the captain?"
"I'm all the captain there is," answered Bob.
"Have you any wheat to sell? I am a grain merchant."
He looked more like a penniless adventurer, Bob thought.
"I have no wheat to sell here," said Bob, coldly. "I am on my way to St. Louis."
"Perhaps I can do as well by you as the grain merchants in St. Louis."
"I don't care to sell here," said Bob, shortly.
"No offense, young man! I suppose a man can make an offer?"
"Certainly, sir."
But the stranger did not leave the boat. He walked about, scrutinizing the arrangements carefully.
"You've got a pretty big cargo, boy," he said.
"Yes, sir."
"How many bushels now, about?"
"Why do you wish to know?" asked Bob, eying the stranger keenly.
"I thought I might like to load a boat like this some time, and it might be of use to know how much it would carry."
"Do you live in Rocky Creek?" asked Bob, suddenly.
"Ye-as."
"May I ask your name?"
"Smith – James Smith," answered the other, with hesitation.
"Very well; when I have sold my cargo I will write you the number of bushels the boat contains."
"Thank you."
"Decidedly, the boy is sharp!" said Minton to himself. "He's no milk-and-water boy!"
He left the boat, and presently joined his friend Brown.
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.