Edward Stratemeyer

“ Good fortune seemed to have come all in a heap.
“Does it suit you?” asked Grace, watching him curiously.
“It more than suits,” burst out Bob. “Why I—I can’t thank you enough. You have made me the happiest chap in Stampton.”
“I have not finished yet,” said Mr. Maverick. “Now you have the outfit, I believe you are almost capable of doing the work I wish done.”
“I will do whatever I can for you,” returned Bob, quickly. “And I won’t charge you a cent.”
“In that case you can’t do anything. But this work is for the railroad.” ”

“ Away dashed Bob, with Frank directly behind him.
The way was dark, and the young photographer had scarcely proceeded a dozen steps when he tripped over some stones and went down.
Frank came down on top of Bob, and before either could rise, Casco and Raymond were upon them.
“We have them,” said Raymond.
“Don’t you dare to move!” cried the scar-faced man.
The darkness was unfavorable to any kind of fair fighting, and every one went in as best pleased him. Casco was a powerful man, but Bob was thoroughly aroused, and he fought so skilfully that the scar-faced man was soon retreating. ”

“ For Bob thought a country boy like himself had no business in one of those fine brownstone mansions, even if he had been invited to call.
Bob continued to look at the things displayed in the show window until he had noted them all. He made up his mind that there was more to the art of photography than he had dreamed.
“But I’ll master it, see if I don’t,” he muttered, as he turned away and resumed his walk. “I won’t be a nobody any longer.”
Bob had scarcely gone a dozen steps when he saw a familiar-looking figure approaching. The man was Slippery Paul Bidwell, the sneak-thief. ”

“ Bob told him. Frank caught his hand. “Let me congratulate you. You’re all right.”
“Give it to me plainer, please.”
“Can’t you see? You call on Grace. See old Maverick. He takes an interest in you and rewards you handsomely.”
“But he won’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I won’t call.”
Frank stared at Bob in amazement.
“Won’t call?” he gasped.
“That’s it. I’d feel worse than a cat in a strange garret. I’m not used to high-toned society.” ”

“ To say I am a sneak-thief is preposterous. I am afraid,” went on the pretended senator, with a wave of his hand, “that this youth is not quite right in his mind. Landlord, do you know him?”
[80] “Yes, I do,” returned Fitt. “And I don’t know you,” he added, suspiciously.
“I can refer you to President Maverick of the railroad. You are making a sad mistake, and I must request you to let go of me.”
Fitt was rather a nervous man, and of a weak turn of mind. At these smooth words he let go his hold, and so did the other man.
“I wouldn’t trust him,” said Bob, bluntly. ”

“ Bob looked outside. The rain was coming down in a perfect sheet, while the murky air seemed to be filled with lightning.
“If it wasn’t such a fearful storm, I would walk back to Dartinville, or up to Rayville, and summon help,” he muttered to himself. ”

“ Entering the house, he found Frank Landes sitting up in an easy-chair.
“Hullo, Bob! so you’ve come back! Mr. Dalmer thought you had followed those rascals to Stampton, or some other place.”
Such was Frank’s salutation, and Bob saw at a glance that the young man was much better.
“I wish I had been able to follow them,” returned the youth, and, sitting down, he related the particulars of the useless search.
Frank shook his head slowly.
“That’s the end of them, mark my word.”
“I’m afraid you’re right,” returned Bob. “They are sly as well as bad. How do you feel?” ”

“ Before the farmer could rise from the puddle, there was a click, and the amateur photographer had taken his picture.
Bob gazed with interest at the young man. He had seen the fellow before, and knew him to be the son of a wealthy merchant of New York.
“I was going to take a picture of still life around the barn,” explained the newcomer. “But this suits me better.”
“Go on about yer business,” snarled Joel Carrow.
“What are you chasing that boy for?”
“None o’ yer business, Frank Landes. Clear out, afore I set the dogs on you!” ”

“ To a person not accustomed to outdoor life, walking over the rough fields would have been no easy task, but Bob was used to it, and he easily kept up with Hicks’s long strides.
When they reached the barn-yard of which Hicks had spoken, they found it dark and silent. The house stood some distance away, but there, also, was no sign of life.
“He must have branched off,” said Hicks, as they came to a halt near the stile.
“Perhaps, but—hist! what was that?”
Bob pointed to the rear of the cow-shed as he spoke. A movement of some kind had attracted his attention. ”

“ It’s worth a dozen tripods to be a hero.”
“If you don’t shut down on that talk, I’ll leave you at once,” burst out Bob. “I’m not a hero, never was, and am not likely to be. Here’s a bit of strong string. Let me see if I can’t splice the broken leg of your machine.”
Frank said no more, and, sitting down, Bob took the tripod and speedily mended the split leg.
This done, the two proceeded to take several pictures of the spot, including one of the place where the thrilling scene recorded had occurred.
“I’ll give you a copy of it,” said Frank. “And perhaps I’ll send one to Miss Maverick.” ”

“ 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.” ”

“ Why didn’t you come to my Uncle Robert’s house?”
“It’s a long story. When your father was killed, I nearly lost my mind. When I recovered, I was told by a man, who I afterward found out was Dix’s tool, that you had been stolen by the Indians. I made a long search, lasting years. Then I was coming to your uncle’s home here in the East, when I learned that he was dead. It was quite by accident that I discovered the trick which had been played on me, and I at once set out to find you.”
“And I have been hunting for you,” replied Bob, with a beaming face. “I understand it all now. ”

“ It beats working hard all to bits.”
“You are an infernal scamp!” burst out Bob. “Tell me my father was a thief? If I were loose I would—would—pulverize you. If you knew my father at all, it must have been at some time when he found you out and exposed you.”
Barker drew back as if shot. Evidently Bob’s last remark had struck home. He breathed hard, and glared at the youth.
“You don’t know when you’re well off,” he cried. “I offer you the best possible chance to make money, and you refuse.”
“I never trained with thieves,” returned Bob, stoutly.
“Oi’ll fix yez fer that!” cried Grogan. ”

“ The elderly teacher gave the youth one stare, and then shrugged her shoulders.
“You must have nothing to do with such common people, Grace,” she said, lowly, but still loud enough for Bob to hear. “Come with me at once.”
“He is a noble boy,” protested the girl. “Good-bye, Bob Alden, I shall expect to see you in Stampton. Good-bye, Mr. Landes.”
The teacher hurried Grace away. Bob and Frank both tipped their caps, and then the youth turned to the young man.
“Christopher! Isn’t the old lady a sour one?”
[29] “Rather,” returned Frank. “But, Bob, you’re in luck.” ”

“ At these words Raymond burst into a laugh.
“You don’t know what you are talking about. You, a mere boy, expect to do what no officer around has been able to accomplish. Get out of here before I set my blood-hounds on you!”
As Raymond spoke, he darted around the corner of the barn before Bob had time to stop him.
Then they heard him utter a cry that was immediately followed by the deep baying of a hound.
“We had better get out of here!” cried [258] Frank. “He has two of the ugliest blood-hounds you ever saw.” ”

“ Mr. Starleigh was assisted to a near-by drug-store, and a doctor at once gave his injured ankle proper attention.
“I wish I had saved my lenses,” he sighed. “The rest of the stuff in the place was not of so much account.”
“Here are the lenses,” returned Bob, producing them.
“What! Did you really get them?”
“Yes. I trust they are not scratched,” went on the youth, with considerable concern.
“They do not appear to be. Bob, I shall not forget you for this work, nor for saving my life, also.”
[134] “Pooh! I didn’t save your life,” replied Bob, and he returned to the fire. ”

“ Then I had to shift for myself, for his relatives came in and cleared out the house and wouldn’t have nothing to do with me.”
“That was hard luck.”
“It wasn’t as hard as falling in with Joel Carrow,” answered Bob. “Gee Christopher! but he was a hard one to get along with. If I had stayed there another month I would have committed suicide.”
“Well, as I said before, I will take you to Stampton with me if you wish to go, and I’ll pay expenses on the way. But what will you do when you get there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Finding work is no easy job in a city.” ”

“ BOB IN THE WOODS
The young photographer was right. There, scarcely ten yards away, were the horse and the wagon.
Hicks at once jumped down and strode over to the turn-out. Bob followed.
“Is it O. K.?” queried Bob.
“Seems to be. He drove the horse for all he knew how,” responded Hicks.
“Which way do you think he went?”
“Can’t say. It’s so infernally dark it will be impossible to follow him up.” ”

“ With his camera in one hand and his tripod and satchel slung over his shoulder, Bob made his way to the spot.
In order to get the proper view the young photographer was compelled to climb through a mass of thick brush and stubble. This was not very agreeable, but Bob bore it philosophically, remembering that all work is not play. ”

“ As Blake finished, he caught up the flask, which was still half full of liquor, and hurled it with all his strength against the rocky back wall of the hut. It was smashed into a hundred pieces, and the liquor splashed in all directions.
“I swear that from now on I’m going to lead a different life,” went on the old man. “And if you will help me, I’ll do what I can to bring that gang to justice and assist you in getting your inheritance.”
[291] “And in finding my mother, if she be alive,” added Bob. “Blake, give me your hand. From now on we are firm friends.” ”

“ Bob gave another whistle, but to his dismay he received no answer.
He did not know that Hicks was slightly hard of hearing, and had only heard the signal when Bob was comparatively close by.
In perplexity over the non-appearance of Hicks, Bob looked around for a stick. He soon found one, and, picking it up, he brandished it in the air.
“Now, we’ll see who is the best man. Do you see that light over in the cottage yonder?”
“Not being blind, I do,” returned Horning, sarcastically. ”

“ The youth was greatly interested, and watched every part of the process closely. Both had a hearty laugh over the picture of Carrow plunging into the hot-bed after the pigs.
“It’s awfully interesting,” declared Bob. “The glass seems to have nothing on it, and the picture comes out as if by magic when you pour the developing fluid on it.”
“Here is a first-class book on photography,” replied Frank. “You can’t do better than study it closely. ”

“ Haven’t you ever learned anything about yourself?”
“Not a word.” Bob swallowed a curious lump that had come up in his throat. “But I am trying hard to get on the track. I know one thing, and since you have told me so much I’ll tell you it. The Bill Barker, who is one of the robbers we are after, was, to my way of thinking, the man who brought me to Peter Thompson’s house.” ”

“ Bob did as requested. Both Mr. Maverick and his daughter asked a great number of questions, and before the youth was aware he had related his entire history, and the clock had long since struck ten.
“Really I must be making you tired,” said the youth, as he glanced at the time-piece.
“On the contrary, I have been deeply interested,” said the railroad president. “I like to see a young man show pluck and determination. That is the only way to succeed in life. So your ambition is to become a first-class photographer?” ”

“ Frank’s face fell, and Blake gave a groan.
“The papers, gone!” muttered the old man. “Gone, and Barker promised me five hundred dollars for them!”
“What’s that?” asked Bob, with sudden interest.
“Nothin’,” mumbled Blake, but he eyed the youth in a dreamy, speculative way for a long while after.
Bob and Frank now held a consultation. It was obvious that they could not leave Blake alone. The old man might die if left without somebody to nurse him.
“If you will remain, I will go after Casco,” said Frank. ”

“ Bob turned pale. They must mean Mr. Starleigh’s studio. He wondered if his employer was around.
Bob had a key to the studio. Breaking through the crowd, he dashed past the policeman on duty.
“Here—what?” demanded the officer.
“I want to save our things if I can,” returned Bob.
He dashed up the first flight of stairs and then the second. The hall-way was filling with smoke, but no fire was to be seen.
But on the third landing he paused. The smoke was thicker than ever, and he could hear the faint crackling of flames. Would it be safe to venture farther? ”