Dave Porter and His Double: or, The Disapperarance of the Basswood Fortune

CHAPTER IX
SOMETHING ABOUT MINIATURES

“Miniatures?” came from all of Ben Basswood’s listeners in a chorus.

“Do you mean those little paintings that are sometimes so valuable?” continued Laura.

“That’s it,” answered Ben. “I don’t know much about miniatures myself, but as soon as mother and I heard about this queer fortune of ours she asked the minister. You know he is quite interested in art, and he told her that most of these little miniatures, which are about the size of a silver dollar or a small saucer, are usually painted on ivory. Of course, some of them are not so valuable, but others, especially those painted by celebrated artists, are worth thousands of dollars.”

“And how many of these miniatures are there, Ben?” asked Roger, with increased curiosity.

“Father didn’t know exactly, but said they would number at least fifty, and maybe seventy-five.”

“I suppose they are paintings of celebrated individuals–kings, queens, and like that?” was Dave’s comment.

“No, these miniatures, so father stated, are made up almost entirely of the great fighters of the world–army and navy men, lieutenant-generals, admirals, and officers like that.”

“Well, where in the world did this Mr. Enos get money enough to buy such things?” asked Jessie, who had followed Laura into the room.

“That’s the queer part of it,” answered the real-estate dealer’s son. “It seems, after Mr. Enos and my father gave up business and separated, Enos went South–first to Texas and then into Mexico. There he joined some men who were opening up a gold mine. These men struck it rich, and almost before he knew it Mr. Enos was worth quite a lot of money. He had never been very much of a business man–being wrapped up almost entirely in art–and so he did not know how to handle his money. He had always had a liking for miniatures, so my father stated, and he went in to gather this collection. He didn’t want any kings or queens or noted society women, or anything like that, but he did want every miniature ever painted of an army or a navy fighter. Of course, my father doesn’t know all the particulars yet, but he has learned that Mr. Enos put himself out a great deal to get hold of certain miniatures, hunting for them all over Europe and also in this country. He even went down to South America to get miniatures of some of their heroes, and also picked up several in Mexico, and one or two in Texas.”

“His hobby must certainly have had a strong hold on him,” was Dave’s comment. “But still, that sort of thing isn’t unusual. I heard once of a postage-stamp collector who went all over the world collecting stamps, and finally gave up his last dollar for a rare stamp when he actually hadn’t enough to eat. Of course, he was a monomaniac on the subject of stamp collecting.”

“Well, my father has an idea that Mr. Enos must have been a little queer over his miniature collecting,” returned Ben. “But even so, the fact remains that he left his collection of miniatures behind him, and that they are now the property of my father.”

“And what is your father going to do with them?” questioned Roger.

“He doesn’t know yet. You see, the settling of the estate is in a very mixed-up condition. He is going to stay in Chicago for a week or so, and then he’ll probably bring the miniatures East with him and have some art expert place a valuation on them. After that I suppose he’ll offer the miniatures for sale to art galleries and rich collectors.”

This was about all Ben could tell concerning the fortune left to his parent. The young folks talked the matter over for quite a while, and were presently joined by the older people, including Caspar Potts.

“Miniatures, eh?” said the genial old professor, beaming mildly on Ben. “Very curious! Very curious indeed! But some of them are wonderful works of art, and bring very good prices. I remember, when a young man, attending a sale of art works, and a miniature of one of the English nobility was knocked down for a very large sum, several thousand dollars if I remember rightly.”

“Well, it’s very fine to get hold of a fortune, no matter in what shape it is,” observed Mr. Wadsworth. “Just the same, Ben, I think your father would prefer to have it in good stocks and bonds,” and he smiled faintly.

“No doubt of that, sir,” was the prompt answer. “But, as you say, miniatures are much better than nothing. In fact, I’d rather take a fortune in soft soap than not get it at all,” and at this remark there was a general laugh.

“Oh, my gracious, Ben! what would you do with a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of soft soap?” queried Laura, slyly.

“Oh, I’d go around and smooth down all my friends and enemies with it,” the boy returned, and this caused another laugh.

Several more days passed, and during that time Dave and Roger continued to devote themselves to their studies. Mr. Ramsdell, the old civil engineer, was on hand to tutor the two youths, and he declared that they were making satisfactory progress, and that he thought they would pass the coming examinations without much trouble.

“I wish I felt as confident about it as Mr. Ramsdell does,” observed our hero to his chum one day.

“The same here, Dave,” returned Roger. “Every time I think of that examination I fairly shake in my shoes. Passing at Oak Hall wasn’t a patch to passing as a civil engineer.”

There had been another fall of snow, and now sleighing was even better than before. Jessie and Laura went out in company with their uncle, and on their return both showed some excitement.

“Oh, Dave–Roger–what do you think!” cried Laura. “I’ve got a letter from Belle Endicott, and she is coming on from Star Ranch to spend several weeks with me, and she is going to bring along one of her old school chums, Cora Dartmore. What do you think of that? Won’t it be fine?”

“It certainly will be, Laura,” answered her brother. “When do you expect them to arrive?”

“They are coming on immediately; so I suppose they’ll be here in a day or two if they are following this letter.” Laura looked inquiringly at Dave. “What a pity Phil Lawrence isn’t here,” she half whispered.

Both of them knew that during the visit of the young folks to the Endicott ranch the shipowner’s son and Belle Endicott had become exceedingly friendly.

“Well, I’ve invited Phil to come here,” answered Dave. “I guess all I’ve got to do is to mention Belle to him and he’ll be on the way without delay.”

“Then, by all means, send him word,” returned the sister. “Then we can make up a fine little party, for we can pair Cora Dartmore off with Ben.”

A letter from Dave to Phil Lawrence was dispatched that evening, and the next day came a telegram from the shipowner’s son stating that he would come on that night.

“I knew the mention of Belle would fetch Phil,” remarked Dave to Roger, when they were alone. “Phil certainly has got an eye on that girl.”

“Well, you can’t blame him, Dave. Belle Endicott is a splendid girl and comes from a splendid family. I’ll never forget how royally they treated us when we were at Star Ranch.”

“Yes, we certainly did have one grand time, in spite of what Link Merwell did to annoy us.”

“Oh, drop Link Merwell!” Roger paused for a moment and then went on: “Isn’t it queer, Dave, how just as soon as you get rid of one bad egg like Merwell another bobs up like this Ward Porton?”

“It is queer, Roger.” Dave heaved a deep sigh. “I wish I could get on the track of that rascal.”

“Haven’t heard a thing, have you?”

“No.”

“Well, you can be thankful that he hasn’t been around buying more goods in your name.”

“Oh, I think I scared him pretty well when I met him in the woods. He’ll probably lay low for a while–at least until he thinks the field is clear again. But I’d give a good deal if I never saw or heard of him again,” and Dave heaved another sigh.

The next day the local paper came out with a big article on the front page speaking about the Basswood fortune. Mr. Basswood had returned to town, and had been interviewed by a reporter, and the sheet gave many of the particulars regarding the wonderful miniatures left by Mr. Enos. According to the paper they numbered sixty-eight all told, and were worth from a hundred dollars to five thousand dollars apiece. It was said that they had been placed in a safe deposit vault, being packed in several plush-lined cases.

The paper went on to state that Mr. Basswood thought something of bringing them to Crumville, where they might be judged by a committee of experts in order to ascertain their real value. The real-estate dealer was spoken of as a man well-known in the community, and the article concluded by stating that all the good people of Crumville and vicinity would undoubtedly congratulate him on his good fortune.

“They certainly piled it on a little thick,” was Dave’s comment, after he and Roger had read the article. “Just the same, I agree with the paper–the Basswoods richly deserve the fortune that has come to them.” Dave had not forgotten those days, now long gone by, when he had been a boy just out of the poorhouse living with Caspar Potts, and how Ben Basswood had been his one young friend during those trying times.

As luck would have it, all the young visitors bound for the Wadsworth mansion reached Crumville on the same train. Of course, the others went down to the depot to meet them, and there was a grand jollification lasting several minutes.

“My, Belle, how you have grown!” declared Laura, after the numerous kisses and handshakes had come to an end. “Isn’t she growing tall, Dave?”

“She certainly is,” returned the brother. And what they said was true–Belle Endicott was now tall and willowy, and exceedingly pretty to look at,–so much so in fact, that Phil Lawrence could hardly take his eyes from her.

“It was mighty good of your folks to invite me down,” said the shipowner’s son, when the whole crowd was making its way over to where the Wadsworth automobile and sleigh were standing. “I appreciate it, I assure you.”

“Oh, my! you don’t suppose we could leave you out, Phil, with Belle here,” returned Dave, as he gave his chum a nudge in the ribs.

“Good for you, Dave!” Phil blushed a little, and then winked one eye. “How are matters going between you and Jessie?”

“Very well.”

“Glad to hear it. And I suppose Roger has that same old eagle eye of his on your sister Laura?”

“Well, you don’t find him talking very much to anybody else when Laura is around,” was Dave’s dry comment.

“Oh, we had a perfectly splendid journey!” cried Belle Endicott. “And wasn’t it the strangest thing that we should run into Phil at the junction where we had to change cars to get here?”

“Must be some sort of mutual attraction,” cried Laura, mischievously. And then to hide any possible confusion she added quickly to Cora Dartmore: “I hope you enjoyed the trip also.”

“Yes, I had a splendid time,” answered the newcomer, a girl not quite so tall as Belle but almost equally good-looking. “You see, this is my first trip to the East. Oh, I know I am going to have a perfectly lovely time!” she added enthusiastically.

The young folks piled into the sleigh and automobile, and in a very short time arrived at the Wadsworth mansion. Here Mrs. Wadsworth was ready to receive the visitors, and her gracious manner made them feel at home immediately.

Phil, as was his custom, insisted on rooming with Roger and Dave, while Belle Endicott and her chum were made comfortable in a room next to those occupied by Jessie and Laura.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you boys,” said Mrs. Wadsworth, laughingly. “You always bunk in as thick as fleas.”

“We got used to that at Oak Hall,” returned Dave. “Besides that, the room is a large one with two single beds in it, and we can easily put in a cot;” and so it was settled.

“My, but I’m mighty glad to be with you two fellows again!” declared the shipowner’s son, when the youths were left to themselves. “It seems like a touch of old times.”

“So it does,” returned Roger, smiling broadly.

“From now on I suppose we won’t be able to get together as much as we used to,” said Dave; “so while we are together let us make the most of it.”

“So say we all of us!” cried Phil and Roger, gaily.

CHAPTER X
THE BIG SLEIGHING-PARTY

Of course, even with so many visitors to entertain, Dave and Roger could not neglect their studies; so it was arranged that every day the pair should apply themselves diligently to their books and to what their tutor had to say from eight o’clock until twelve. Then lunch would be had and the young folks could start out to enjoy themselves in one way or another.

On one occasion the three boys went hunting with Dunston Porter in the woods back of Crumville. They had a most delightful time, and brought back quite a bagful of rabbits, as well as several squirrels, and also a plump partridge, the bird being brought down by Dave.

“And it was a fine shot, Davy,” remarked his Uncle Dunston in speaking about the partridge. “As fine a shot on the wing as I ever saw.”

Crumville boasted of a good-sized pond; and from this the snow had been cleared, giving the young folks an opportunity for skating, which every one of them enjoyed to the utmost. They also attended a concert given in the church one evening, and even went to a moving-picture show which had recently been opened in the town.

The moving pictures interested the two girls from the Far West more than anything else, for, so far, they had had little opportunity to take in such a form of entertainment.

During those days Dave was continually on the watch for some information concerning Ward Porton, but no word of any kind came in, and he finally concluded that the rascal had left that vicinity.

“Most likely he thought things were growing too hot for him,” was Phil’s comment, when the boys talked the matter over. “He probably realized that if he continued to go to the stores and get goods the way he did he would be caught sooner or later.”

Ben Basswood often went out with the others, pairing off, as had been expected by Laura, with Cora Dartmore. This left Belle Endicott more or less in Phil’s care, for which the shipowner’s son was grateful.

“Yes, my father has brought the Enos miniatures here,” answered Ben, one day, in reply to a question from Dave. “He had them in a safe deposit vault first, but he concluded that they would probably be just as safe at our place. You know, he has a big safe of his own in which he keeps all his real estate documents.” Mr. Basswood’s office was in a wing of his house, and all the boys had visited it and knew that it contained a massive steel affair about five feet square and probably four feet deep.

“They ought to be safe there, Ben,” returned Dave. “I don’t see what a thief could do with miniatures, and I don’t believe your father’s office is liable to catch fire.”

“And that safe must be fire-proof,” put in Roger.

“I think it is fire-proof,” returned the real estate dealer’s son. “And I guess you are right about thieves–they would rather steal money or jewelry or silverware, or something like that, every time.”

Used to a life in the open air, and to riding and driving, the sleighing in and around Crumville proved to be a constant delight to Belle and Cora. As a consequence, it was arranged by the boys that the whole crowd should go out in a large sleigh, to be procured from the local livery stable and to be drawn by four reliable horses.

“We’ll put a lot of straw in the bottom of the sleigh and make it a sort of straw-ride,” declared Dave.

“And just to think! it will be moonlight!” cried his sister. “Won’t that be the finest ever!”

“It certainly will be!” came from Jessie, her eyes beaming. But then she turned suddenly to Dave, her face clouding a little. “Who is going to drive–you?”

“No, we’re going to have a regular man from the livery stable,” he answered. And then as his sister turned away, he added in a low tone: “I didn’t want to spend my time on the horses–I wanted to spend it on you.”

“Oh, Dave!” murmured the girl, and blushed. Then she gave him a look that meant a great deal.

The sleighing-party was to start off about two o’clock the next afternoon, and did not expect to return to Crumville until well towards midnight. They were to go to the town of Lamont, about seventeen miles away. A new restaurant had been opened in this town, in connection with the hotel, and Mr. and Mrs. Wadsworth had stopped there for a meal and had pronounced it excellent, the food being of first-class quality and an orchestra being present to liven matters up. Ben had thought at first that he could not accompany the others, his father having been taken sick; but as Mr. Basswood’s illness was not of a serious nature, Mrs. Basswood, knowing how disappointed the youth would be, urged that he go along anyhow.

“Your father is resting quite comfortably,” she told Ben; “and the doctor says he will be around again inside of a week, so you may as well take in this sleighride while you have the chance.”

“But there are those miniatures, mother,” returned Ben. “Wasn’t father going to let Mr. Wadsworth see them?”

“Mr. Wadsworth is going to have several art critics at his home in a day or two, and then your father is to let all of them examine the miniatures carefully to see if he can get an idea of what they are worth. But you need not bother your head about that. If Mr. Wadsworth sends word that the critics have arrived at his house I’ll take care of the matter.” And so this was arranged, and Ben went off to prepare for the sleigh-ride.

At the appointed hour, the big sleigh came dashing up to the door of the Wadsworth mansion. All of the young folks, including Ben, were on hand and ready for the trip, each bundled up well for protection against the cold. The sun had been shining in the morning, but towards noon it had gone under a heavy bank of clouds.

“Looks a little to me like more snow,” observed Dunston Porter, who was present to see them depart. “I shouldn’t be surprised to see you coming back in the midst of another fall.”

“Oh, Uncle Dunston, don’t say that!” cried Laura. “We want the moon to shine this evening.”

“Well, it will shine, Laura,” returned the uncle, with a wink of the eye. “It always does shine, even when we don’t see it,” and then he dodged when she laughingly picked up a chunk of snow and threw it at him.

Into the big sleigh piled the girls, and the boys quickly followed. All the back seats had been removed, and they nestled down in the thick straw and covered themselves with numerous robes.

“Look out that you don’t jounce off when you go over a bump,” cried Dunston Porter to Phil and Belle, who sat at the back of the turnout.

“Oh, we’ll hold on, don’t worry!” cried Phil.

“I’m used to hanging on,” came from the western girl, quickly. “Riding in this sleigh won’t be half as bad as hanging on to the back of a half-broken broncho.”

“I guess that’s right, too,” answered Dave’s uncle. “Just the same, you take care. I don’t want you young folks to have any accidents on this trip.”

“I trust you all have a good time,” came benevolently from old Caspar Potts, as he gazed at them and rubbed his hands. “My, my! how I used to enjoy sleighing when I was a young man! And how many years ago that seems!” he added with a little sigh.

“Don’t stay any later than midnight,” warned Mrs. Wadsworth.

“We’ll be back by that time unless something unusual turns up,” returned Dave. He turned to the others in the sleigh. “Everybody fixed and ready?”

“All ready!” came back the answering cry.

“Then we’re off.” Dave turned to the driver, a middle-aged colored man. “Let her go, Wash.”

“Yassir,” responded Washington Bones, with a grin. “Giddap!” he called to his horses. And with a crack of the whip and a grand flourish the turnout left the front of the Wadsworth mansion and whirled out on to the broad highway leading to Lamont.

The four horses were used to working together, and they trotted along in fine style, causing many a passer-by to stop and gaze at the team and the gay load of young people in admiration. The horses were well equipped with bells, and each of the youths had provided himself with a good-sized horn, so that noise was not lacking as they dashed along past the stores and houses of Crumville. Then they came out on the Lamont road, where the sleighing was almost perfect.

“I hope we don’t have any such adventure as we had at Conover’s Hill,” remarked Jessie to Dave while they were spinning on their way.

“I don’t think these livery stable horses will run away,” he returned. “They are used every day, and that makes them less frisky than our horses, which sometimes are in the stable for a week. Besides that, Wash Bones is one of the most careful drivers around here. If he does anything, he’ll let the team hold back on him rather than urge them to do their best.”

On and on flew the sleigh, the young folks chatting gaily and occasionally bursting out into a verse of song.

“Let’s give ’em our old Oak Hall song!” cried Dave, presently.

“That’s it!” came eagerly from his two chums, and a moment later they started up the old school song, which was sung to the tune of Auld Lang Syne, the girls joining in:

 
“Oak Hall we never shall forget,
No matter where we roam;
It is the very best of schools,
To us it’s just like home!
Then give three cheers, and let them ring
Throughout this world so wide,
To let the people know that we
Elect to here abide!”
 

“Say, that takes me back to the old days at Oak Hall,” remarked Roger, when the singing had come to an end. “My, but those were the great days!”

“I don’t believe we’ll ever see any better, Roger,” answered Dave.

The sleighing party had still three miles to go when suddenly Laura uttered a cry.

“It’s snowing!”

“So it is!” burst out Belle. “What a shame!”

“Maybe it won’t amount to much,” said Ben. “It often snows just a little, you know.”

The first flakes to fall were large, and dropped down lazily from the sky. But soon it grew darker, and in a short time the snow was coming down so thickly that it almost blotted out the landscape on all sides.

“Some fall this!” exclaimed Phil. “Looks now as if it were going to be a regular storm.”

“O dear! and I wanted it to be moonlight to-night!” wailed Laura.

Dave was peering around and looking anxiously at the heavy, leaden sky.

“If this is going to be a heavy storm, maybe it might be as well for us to turn back,” he announced.

“Turn back?” came from several of the others.

“Yes.”

“What for, Dave?” questioned Phil. “I don’t think a little snow is going to hurt us. Maybe it will help to keep us warm,” he added with a grin.

“We don’t want to get snowed in, Phil.”

“Oh, let’s go on!” interposed Roger. “Even if it does keep on snowing it won’t get very heavy in the next couple of hours. We can hurry up with our dinner at Lamont and be home again before it gets very deep.”

“All right, I’m willing if the rest are,” returned Dave, who did not wish to throw “cold water” on their sport. “Lamont it is! Go ahead, Wash, we want to get there just as soon as possible.”

On they plunged, the snow coming down thicker and thicker every minute. Then, just as the outskirts of the town were gained, they heard a curious humming sound.

“Oh, Dave! What is that?” queried Jessie.

“It’s the wind coming up,” he answered. “Listen!”

All did so and noted that the humming sound was increasing. Then the wind came tearing through the woods and down the highway with great force, sending the snow in driving sheets into their faces.

“My gracious, this looks as if it were going to be a blizzard!” gasped Phil, who had started up to see what the sound meant. “We had better get under some kind of cover just as soon as possible.”

“We’ll be up to dat hotel in anudder minute,” bawled Washington Bones, to make himself heard above the sudden fury of the elements. “Say! dis suah is some snowsto’m!” he added.

Again he cracked his whip, and once more the four horses ploughed along as well as they were able. They had to face both the wind and the snow, and these combined made progress slow. By the time the party came into sight of the hotel with the restaurant attached, the wind was blowing almost a gale, and the snow seemed to be coming down in driving chunks.

“Drive us around to the side porch,” ordered Dave. “It will be a little more sheltered there.”

“Yassir,” came from the colored driver; and soon they had come to a halt at the spot mentioned. From under the snow and robes crawled the boys and the girls and lost no time in running into the hotel. Then the colored man drove the turnout down to the stables.

“My! did you ever see such a storm!” was Roger’s comment. “And how quickly it came up!”

“If it isn’t a blizzard, it is next door to it,” returned Dave. And then he added quickly: “It looks to me as if we were going to be snowbound!”