The Missing Tin Box: or, The Stolen Railroad Bonds

CHAPTER XXVI.
HAL OBTAINS ANOTHER SITUATION

For a moment there was silence, and then Horace Sumner stopped short before Hal.

"There is another matter I might mention," he said. "Caleb Allen is going, or rather, has gone, into business for himself."

"What kind of business?" asked the youth, in surprise.

"A brokerage and loan office."

"Near here?"

"Yes, right around the corner of Broad Street, not five minutes, walk. He hired the place from the first, and I understand he and another man are already doing business there."

"Who is the other man?"

"A fellow named Parsons."

"Has he a good reputation?"

"Far from it. He was arrested for forgery five years ago, but his friends hushed the matter up."

"Have you the number of the place?"

"Yes, here it is. What do you intend to do?"

"I don't know. I'll take a look at the place. That will do no harm. Perhaps Hardwick will call on Mr. Allen."

After a few words more Hal left the private office, and passed out on Wall Street.

He soon turned the corner into Broad Street, the second great money center of New York, and presently came to the building in which was situated the offices now occupied by the firm of Allen & Parsons.

The offices were down three steps, and as Hal passed on the pavement above, a small sign pasted in the corner of the window attracted his attention:

Young Man Wanted. Rapid Writer.

Stopping short, Hal descended the steps, and peered into the window. A middle-aged man stood at the front desk, smoking a cigar and writing.

"That must be either Mr. Parsons or a book-keeper," thought Hal.

Then a sudden determination sprang up in his mind. Without a second thought he entered the office and walked up to the desk.

The man looked up, and laid down his cigar.

"Well, sir, what is it?" he asked, in a pleasant voice.

"Is this one of the proprietors?"

"Yes, I am Mr. Parsons."

"I see you want a young man, sir."

"We do." Most of the pleasantness vanished, and a sharp look came to the man's face. "You are looking for a situation?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are you a good writer?"

"I will show you my hand, sir?"

"All right. Here is paper and ink. Write a sheetful as rapidly as you can do so in good style."

Hal took up the pen. He was really a rapid writer, and in five minutes the job was done. Parsons looked at the work.

"That might do. Have you any recommendations?"

"No, sir. I am a stranger in New York."

"Ah, a stranger." A certain pleased look came into the broker's eyes. "What's your idea of salary?"

"I hardly know. I must support myself."

"All alone?"

"Yes, sir."

Parsons appeared better pleased than ever.

"Just the kind of a fellow Allen and I want," he muttered to himself.

"I will give you a trial on seven dollars a week, and, if you suit, I will raise you to eight."

"Thank you, sir."

"What is your name?"

"Frank Hallen," replied Hal, using the cognomen of one of his poor-house associates.

"Very well, Hallen. Are you ready to go to work at once?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then come inside."

Hal walked behind the railing, and Parsons showed him where to place his coat and hat.

"Here is a copy of a letter I wish duplicated ten times. You can go to work at this second desk. At one o'clock you can take half an hour for lunch."

"Yes, sir."

Hal gathered his material about him, and went to work as if his very life depended on it.

"He seems to be an awfully shrewd man," he thought, meaning Parsons. "I wonder what he would say if he knew I had taken the job merely as a blind?"

He could not help but smile to himself, and Parsons saw the smile, but misinterpreted it.

"He feels good over dropping into a situation, I suppose," he muttered. "Well, if he's a stranger in New York and alone, he is probably just the fellow for Allen's work. It won't do to have a chap around who is too well acquainted."

Hal had made four copies of the letter when the front door opened, and Caleb Allen entered.

The broker looked rather surprised when he saw Hal, but he did not recognize the youth, and Hal drew a deep sigh of relief.

"Got a clerk, eh?" said Allen, to his new partner.

"Yes," replied Parsons. "Hallen, this is Mr. Allen, your other employer."

Hal bowed. Then Allen turned to an office in the rear, and Parsons immediately followed him.

The door, which was partly of ground glass, was tightly closed.

Hal waited for an instant, and then, leaving the desk, tiptoed his way to the rear.

By listening intently, he could just catch what was said.

"You say he is a stranger in New York?" were the first words he heard, coming from Allen.

"Yes."

"Humph! He will have a job finding his way around, I'm thinking."

"He looks bright enough. I thought it would be better than to hire somebody who knew too much about financial matters here," returned Parsons.

"That's so!" cried Allen. "A good idea. Has Samuels called yet?"

"No."

"He ought to be here by this time."

"Samuels is always slow. But tell me, how did you make out over at the old place?"

"We had a deuce of a racket," exclaimed Allen, savagely. "Since Hardwick was found out Sumner has watched me like a cat."

"Of course, you didn't give him any satisfaction."

"Not much! But I can tell you I had to talk mighty smooth to keep things down."

"How about dissolving?"

"The affair comes off on the twentieth."

"What! Can you get ready by that time?"

"Luckily, yes."

"Are you going to do as I suggested about those slips?"

"Yes. I was just after the boy who ordered them for me, and he says they are to be done in two days, sure. It won't take an hour to fix them up after I get them."

"Nothing like being a slick penman, Caleb."

And Parsons chuckled.

"Hush! That new man might hear you."

"That's so. But I fancy he's rather green, in spite of the fact that he wants to appear like a New Yorker."

"If he's green, so much the better. Now, about this business with Samuels. Do you think he can be trusted?"

"Yes. I know Samuels thoroughly, and, besides, I have a hold on him."

"A good hold?"

"I could send him to prison if I wished."

"And he will undertake to work off the bonds in Chicago?"

"I believe so. But he wants big pay."

"How much?"

"Twenty per cent."

"Twenty per cent.!" cried Allen. "Is he crazy?"

"He says he will run a big risk."

"Any more than Hardwick and I ran in obtaining them?"

"No, indeed. Perhaps you can make him come down."

"I certainly shall. Hardwick hasn't shown up, has he?"

"No. Do you expect him?"

"Yes."

"Is it prudent? Old Sumner may have his detectives around."

"I thought of that, and wrote to Hardwick about it. Hereafter he will disguise himself, and – "

Hal heard no more. The front door opened, and a stranger hurried in.

CHAPTER XXVII.
HAL PLAYS A DARING PART

Hal lost no time in confronting the new-comer.

"Is Mr. Parsons in?" asked the stranger.

"Yes, sir."

"Tell him Mr. Samuels is here."

"I will, sir."

Hal walked back, and knocked on the rear office door.

"Come!" said Allen.

"A Mr. Samuels to see Mr. Parsons," said the youth.

"Show him in."

Mr. Samuels was conducted to the rear office, and once more the door was tightly closed.

Hal was slightly disturbed. Had the new-comer caught him listening in the back, or had he taken no notice?

The only way to learn was to remain where he had been before, and this the youth did.

"Well, Samuels, on hand I see," said Parsons. "Mr. Allen just came in."

"Then we can come to business without delay," replied Samuels.

He was a small-faced Jew, with eyes that appeared to be more than half closed. As he spoke, he drew up a chair close to where the other two were sitting.

"Say," he went on. "Who is the young fellow outside?"

"Our new clerk."

"Can you trust him?"

"I think so. Why?"

"He might overhear what was said."

"He won't if you don't talk too loud."

"Very well."

"Hold on," put in Allen. "Parsons, send him off to mail some letters."

The junior partner at once walked outside, and, taking up a bunch of letters, handed them to Hal.

"Mail these," he said. "And then you can go to lunch."

"Yes, sir."

Hal at once put on his overcoat and hat, and walked out with the letters. He wished he could have remained in the office, for he felt certain the conversation about to ensue would be a most important one.

He dropped the letters into the nearest box, and then stood undecided what to do next.

"Mr. Allen has those bonds, that's certain," he said to himself. "I wonder if it would do any good to notify the police?"

But this plan did not appear to be just the right one. If arrested, Allen would, of course, deny any knowledge of the stolen property and all the proof Hal had was his own word, and that might not go very far in a court of law.

"No, the only thing to do is to find those bonds and get them back myself," he muttered. "Perhaps Allen only has part of them, and Hardwick the other part. Besides, I have not yet learned what Macklin and Ferris have to do with the case."

He knew there was a window in the back of the rear office; this was tightly closed, so it would be of no use to attempt to hear anything from that direction.

At last Hal took his stand opposite the entrance to the office. He had hardly done so when Parsons and Samuels came out, and hurried up the street at the top of their walking powers.

"Something is up," thought Hal. "Shall I follow them, or remain behind with Allen?"

He knew if he wished to keep his place as clerk, he ought to go back soon. He hesitated, and then decided to remain. So, procuring a sandwich and an apple, he munched them down, and then walked in.

Caleb Allen looked at him darkly as he entered, but said nothing, and, hanging up his coat and hat, Hal resumed the copying of the letter.

Half an hour later, a tall man came in. He was well dressed, and wore a heavy black mustache and beard.

He glanced at Hal, and then walked over to where Allen sat at a desk, writing a letter.

"I want to see you in private," he said, in a low tone.

The voice of the stranger sounded strangely familiar to Hal. Where had he heard it before?

Allen looked perplexed for an instant, and then seemed to comprehend the situation. He at once led the way to the office in the rear. The stranger entered, and the door was once more tightly closed.

Our young hero at once left off writing, and tiptoed his way back. An idea had struck him concerning the stranger's identity, and the first words from behind the thin partition proved that he was correct.

"So you have donned the disguise, Hardwick," were Allen's words.

"Yes, deuce take the luck, I was forced to do it."

"You got my letter advising it?"

"I did. But that wasn't what brought me to it. I was followed by one of old Sumner's detectives."

"Ha! Did he discover anything?"

"Not from me. But I'm afraid he did in another direction."

Allen turned pale, and shifted uneasily.

"What way?" he exclaimed, hoarsely.

"I am pretty well satisfied the same fellow followed Ferris to the establishment where you are having those bogus bills printed."

"And what did he learn?"

"I am not sure he really followed, and, of course, I don't know how much he learned."

"Too bad! Did you come face to face with the man?"

"I did, but he got away from us."

"Who do you mean – was Ferris with you?"

"Yes. He thought he recognized the man as one who followed him to the printing office."

"I see. We must be careful, Hardwick, very careful."

"If it hadn't been for that Carson it would be all right," growled the ex-book-keeper. "I would like to wring that boy's neck."

"So would I. But what has become of him? He was not at the office this morning when I was there."

"I don't know. He boarded with Ferris' aunt, but he has left there, too."

"That's queer."

"I have an idea he isn't so much of a boy as we think," said Hardwick, with a shake of his head.

"What do you mean?"

"I believe if he isn't a regular detective, he is next door to it, and was hired by Sumner to spot me. That scene in the office when I accused him was a put-up job on his part and Sumner's. See how easily Sumner sided with him in every instance."

"By Jove! you may be right," cried Allen. "We must be more than careful, or – "

Hal did not catch the words that followed, for the door of the office opened and a slouching figure entered. It was Tommy Macklin.

Veiling his astonishment as best he could, Hal approached the tough.

"What is it?" he asked, briefly.

"Is der boss in?" asked Macklin.

"Do you mean Mr. Allen or Mr. Parsons?" asked Hal, although he knew very well.

"Mr. Allen."

"I will see. What name?"

"Wot's dat?"

"What is your name?"

"Me name ain't got nothin' ter do wid it. Tell him a gent from der east side wants ter talk ter him a few minits."

"I will."

Hal rapped on the door. It was quickly opened by Mr. Allen.

"Here is a man wants to see you, sir," said Hal. "He says he's from the east side, and won't give any name."

Allen looked out toward Macklin. He looked disturbed when he recognized the tough.

"Step this way," he called out, and Macklin entered the office.

"Now, what brings you?" demanded Allen, as soon as the door was shut.

Instead of replying, Macklin looked at Hardwick, who had taken off part of his disguise.

"Wot! You here?" he faltered.

"Yes, Tommy, you didn't expect it, did you?" returned Hardwick, with a short laugh.

"No, I didn't."

"What brought you?"

"I want money," said the tough, coming forward and putting on a bold front. "I want money from both of yer; see?"

"How much?" asked Allen.

"A t'ousand dollars."

"You are crazy!" cried the broker.

"No I ain't. I mean just wot I say, Allen. I want five hundred from you, an' der udder from Hardwick."

"Supposing we won't pay it?"

"Den I'll tell der police wot I know; I ain't doin' yer work fer nothin'."

And the tough poked his nose close to that of Caleb Allen.

"Nonsense, Tommy!" put in Hardwick. "I agreed to give you a hundred dollars for keeping quiet about what you know, and that's all you'll get."

"Den I'll – wot's dat?"

A loud noise in the outer office startled Macklin. Hal, listening at the door, suddenly found himself in the hands of Parsons and Samuels.

"A spy, as I thought," cried Samuels. "Hardwick! Allen!"

The two called, rushed out, and Hal was surrounded.

"A spy, is he?" cried Allen. "Who can – "

"That beard is false!" exclaimed Hardwick, tearing it as well as the mustache from our hero's face. "Hal Carson! Boys, lock the front door! If he escapes, we shall be ruined!"

CHAPTER XXVIII.
HAL IS EXPOSED

The moment that Hardwick made his announcement, Parsons sprang to the front door and locked it.

"Carson!" muttered Allen. "Hardwick, you were right, he is nothing more nor less than a spy."

When Tommy Macklin saw the face of Hal he grew pale as death.

"Carson!" he gasped, falling back.

"What's the matter with you?" demanded Hardwick.

"Dat's der chap wot followed Ferris ter my house."

"Followed Ferris. When?"

"Der night he brung me dat letter from you about dat bus'ness over to der – you know."

"You are sure?"

"Sure," repeated Macklin, in deep disgust. "I t'ink I am."

"How did you happen to catch him?"

"He was spyin' at der door, same as here. We collared him, and knocked him down. I t'ought he was dead, an' me an' Ferris chucked him in a vat in der cellar of der old pickle factory."

"Ferris said nothing of this to me," said Hardwick.

"He was most scared stiff, dat feller was," replied Macklin, disdainfully. "I guess he t'ought he would not say nuthin' ter nobody."

During this time Hal had not said a word, but now he spoke up.

"What do you intend to do with me?" he asked.

"You'll see fast enough," replied Hardwick. "We have got you fast this time. Do you know what I think? I think you are the same fellow that I met in the lumber-yard."

"And if I am, Hardwick, what of it?"

"It will go so much the harder with you."

"Let us bind him so he cannot escape," said Allen. "He is a dangerous young man to have loose."

"There is a rope in the closet," said Parsons. "Bind him with that, if you want to."

The rope was speedily brought forth, and Hal was bound hands and feet. There was no use trying to escape, and consequently he did not undertake to do so.

"Put him in the closet," ordered the broker, when the job of binding Hal was completed.

"Gag him first," cautioned Hardwick. "We don't want him to raise the roof, if he's left alone. We'll fix him later."

The gag was inserted in Hal's mouth, and then he was lifted up by Macklin and the others and dumped into the corner of the closet, and the door was closed and locked upon him.

From the closet, which was damp and cold, he could hear the confused murmur of voices, but could not make out a word of what was being said. The murmur continued fully half an hour, and then all became as silent as the grave.

Hal was all but suffocated by the rude gag which had been forced into his mouth. All was dark, and his position was a painful one, not only mentally, but bodily as well.

What the rogues intended to do with him he did not know. If only he could free himself and get away!

With might and main he tugged at the rope which bound his hands. At first it remained tight, but at last it loosened sufficiently to allow him to slip out his right hand.

The left soon followed; and Hal's next work was to remove the gag from his mouth. What a relief it was to once more close his mouth!

His feet freed, the boy looked about for some means by which to escape from the closet. The door was locked, as has been mentioned, but it was a poor affair, and Hal knew he could easily force it open with his shoulder.

Before proceeding to this extremity, he listened intently. It must be near three o'clock, and he wondered if all the others had left.

Suddenly voices broke upon his ear, and he heard Hardwick and Macklin enter the rear office. By applying his ear to the key-hole Hal heard what was said. If they opened the closet door, he determined to make a bold dash for liberty.

"How much is der in dis new ob?" Macklin asked.

"Two hundred dollars, if he never comes back."

"Den pass over der cash."

"I'll pay you after the job is done, Tommy."

"No yer don't. Dis is a cash-in-advance job."

"Can't you trust me?"

"I kin, but I ain't goin' ter."

"It's to your interest as much as ours to have him out of the way."

"Dat's all right, too, but its pay or no job, Hardwick."

"If I pay you now you may make a balk as you did before."

"No, dis will be a sure t'ing, I'll give yer me word."

"Then here you are."

A silence followed.

"Is that right?" asked Hardwick.

"Yes. But, remember, dis ain't part of dat t'ousand I'm ter have fer dat udder work."

"I understand. Now, go for the coach, and I'll stay till you come back. It's getting dark, and the street is almost deserted."

"I will. Better lock der door, and don't unlock it again till yer hear four knocks; see?"

"Yes."

Macklin at once went off, and Hal heard Hardwick lock the door after him as agreed, but the key was left in the lock.

By the conversation Hal knew it must be later than he had supposed. Under cover of the darkness Macklin was going to bring a coach to the place. For what purpose?

In spite of his naturally brave spirit, Hal shivered. He was in the power of a desperate set of men, and he had learned enough of their secrets to convict every one of them. They would not hesitate to do anything to escape their just deserts.

"I must fight for it," he muttered to himself, "and now is the best time to do it."

He opened the closet door cautiously, and peeped out. Hardwick sat in an easy-chair, smoking savagely, as if he were out of humor. No one else was in the place.

The office was heavily carpeted, so Hal made no noise as he stepped out of the closet. He had to pass within five feet of Hardwick, who sat with his back half turned to the boy.

Hardly daring to breathe, Hal tiptoed his way past Hardwick and into the outer office, the door to which stood wide open. Here it was quite dark, and the boy saw through the window that it was again snowing heavily.

At last the door was reached, and his hand was upon the key, ready to turn it in the lock.

Suddenly, as if struck by an idea, Hardwick jumped to his feet and came out. His intention was to examine something on one of the outer desks, and when he beheld Hal he stared at the youth in blank amazement.

"Where – where – " he began.

Without saying a word, Hal turned the key and caught hold of the latch of the door. Then, with something that sounded like the growl of a wild animal, Hardwick pounced upon him.

"No, you don't!" he hissed. "You sha'n't escape this time. Come back here!"

He caught Hal by the coat collar. The youth struggled, and then struck out with all force.

The blow landed on Hardwick's chin, and knocked his head back with such force that for the instant he let slip his grasp and Hal was free.

But before the plucky youth could open the door the man had him fast again, and was punching him with all his might.

"I'll teach you a lesson!" he cried. "Take that! and that! You are smart, but you are not smart enough for me!"

"Let go!" cried Hal.

But Hardwick continued to pound him. Then, in sheer desperation, Hal closed in and fought tooth and nail, as if his very life depended on it.

Hardwick was a heavy-built man, but he was no match for the youth, who all his life had been used to hard labor, and whose muscles, consequently, were like steel. He struck Hal many times, but the youth squirmed and twisted, and suddenly hit him a crack between the eyes that made him see stars.

"Oh!" he howled, and dropped back, while Hal, taking advantage of this stroke of good luck, made another dash for the front door.

He opened the door, and was half-way out when Hardwick, realizing what escape meant, leaped forward and caught him by the coat.

"Let go!" cried Hal, and with a jerk he tore away and started up the steps leading to the street.

He had scarcely taken half a dozen steps when he ran full tilt into Macklin, who had just driven up on the box of a closed coach.

"Wot's dis?" cried the tough. "Carson! no yer don't!"

He carried his whip in his hand, and as he spoke he brought the butt down on Hal's head with full force.

There was a strange flash of fire through Hal's brain, and then all became a dark blank.