Edward Stratemeyer

“ Woodward, in a high voice. "He knows too much; he will ruin us both."
"Ruin us both?" sneered the proprietor of the Palace of Pleasure. "I don't see how he can ruin me."
"You're in it just as deep as I am—just as deep."
"Not a bit of it," returned Holtzmann, with spirit. "You are the only one who profited by the whole transaction, and you are the one to take the blame."
"See here, Chris, you're not going back on me in this way," exclaimed the merchant, in a tone of reproach.
"I'm not going back on you at all, Woody. But you can't use me as you used John Stumpy. It won't go down." ”

“ CHAPTER XX AT THE PRISON
Mr. Woodward's actions had aroused me as I had never been aroused before. My eyes were wide open at last. I realized that if I ever expected to gain our family rights I must fight for them—and fight unflinchingly to the bitter end.
It was nearly ten o'clock when I reached the Widow Canby's house. I met my Uncle Enos on the porch. He had grown impatient, and was about to start for Darbyville in search of me.
In the dining room I told my story. All laughed heartily at the ruse I had played upon the merchant, but were indignant at the treatment I had received. ”

“ He's nothing but a tramp, and you know it."
"Tramp? How dare you?" cried Stumpy, in suddenly assumed dignity, put on for the farmer's benefit. "I am a ranchero from Texas and an honest man. I am visiting Mr. Woodward, and know nothing more of the robbery excepting having heard that it occurred—ahem!" And John Stumpy drew himself up.
Under other circumstances I would have laughed at his effrontery. But the situation was too serious to indulge in any humor.
"Being placed under arrest has turned your head, Strong," said the merchant. "You seem to be quite out of your mind." ”

“ A moment later I heard Chris Holtzmann at his safe, and then the rattle of something on his desk.
"The papers are in this tin box," he said. "I placed them there over six months ago."
He opened the box, and I heard a rustling of documents.
"Why—why—what does this mean!" he ejaculated. "They are not here!"
"What!" cried Mr. Aaron Woodward, aghast.
"The papers are not here!" Holtzmann hurried over to his safe and began a hasty search. "As sure as you're born, Woody, they have been stolen!"
"It's that boy," exclaimed the merchant. "He's a wizard of a sly one. ”

“ Nothing would have given me greater satisfaction than to have met the Widow Canby at the depot with the two hundred odd dollars in my pocket. It would have silenced the public tongue and made my breaking jail of no consequence.
But perhaps John Stumpy was telling a falsehood. He was not above such a thing, and would not hesitate if he thought anything could be gained thereby. That Mr. Aaron Woodward also guessed such to be a fact was proven by the words that followed Stumpy's statement.
"Lost the money?" he ejaculated. "Do you expect me to believe you, sir?"
"It's true." ”

“ For the first time I told it with all the details that concerned myself,—how I had been waylaid by the Models, how Dick Blair had released me, what Stumpy had done at the tool house, and all, not forgetting about the statement Kate and I wished so much to find.
The Widow Canby and my uncle listened with close attention until I had finished.
"It's a strange story, Roger," said the widow, at its conclusion. "One hard to believe. But I know you tell the truth."
"What a rascal this Woodward must be!" broke in my uncle "He's a far greater villain in his way than this John Stumpy. ”

“ Both of us would willingly have left Darbyville, but where should we go? The only relation we had was an uncle,—Captain Enos Moss,—and he was on an extended trip to South America, and when he would return no one knew.
All the friends we had had before deserted us. The girls "turned up their noses" at Kate,—which made my blood boil,—and the boys fought shy of me.
I tried to find work, but without success. Even in places where help was wanted excuses were made to me—trivial excuses that meant but one thing—that they did not desire any one in their employ who had a stain upon his name. ”

“ Harrison.
"Eh?" the merchant wheeled around. "Who are you?"
"My name is James Harrison. I am from Chicago. I am this boy's friend, and I am here to see justice done."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that you and your colleagues—Chris Holtzmann there, John Stumpy, alias Ferguson, and the late Nicholas Weaver—have foully wronged this boy's father."
"It's a lie!" cried Aaron Woodward, with a quivering lip.
"It's the truth," I said. "The plain truth, and I can prove every word of it." ”

“ My sister cried, too, and the Widow Canby and Uncle Enos looked very much as if they wished to join in.
"I knew you wouldn't think Roger did it," cried Kate. "I said all along you wouldn't, though everybody said you would."
"Folks don't appear to know me very well," returned Widow Canby, with a bit of grim humor in her tone. "I don't always think as others do. Come into the house and give me full particulars. Who is this man? Why, really! ”

“ Woodward drew the roll of bills from his pocket and began to count them over. I was eager to catch sight of them. I stood on tiptoe and peered into the window. It was an interesting scene; the sour look upon the merchant's face; the look of greed in the tramp's eye. In a moment the counting was finished.
"A hundred and seventy dollars," said Mr. Aaron Woodward. "Here you are." And he held them out. ”

“ My father listened with keen attention to every word, and as I went on, his eyes grew brighter and brighter.
"Roger, my faithful boy, you almost make me hope for freedom," he cried. "Oh, how I long to be set right before the world!"
"God make it so," put in my uncle, solemnly. "To suffer unjustly is terrible."
Then I told of my interview with Mr. Woodward in his library and of Holtzmann.
"Holtzmann was one of the principal witnesses against me," said my father. "So was Nicholas Weaver, who managed the Brooklyn business for Holland & Mack. Who John Stumpy can be I do not know. ”

“ Hardly had my sister left me than there were more voices below, and I heard Mr. Woodward tell Booth that he had an order from Judge Penfold for a private interview with me.
"Better go right upstairs then, Mr. Woodward," was the jailer's reply. "He's all alone."
I wondered what the merchant's visit could portend, but had little time for speculation.
"So, sir, they've got you fast," said Mr. Woodward sharply as he faced me. "Fast, and no mistake." ”

“ In half an hour we reached the business portion of the city, and soon the coupe came to a halt and the driver opened the door.
"Here we are," said he.
I jumped to the ground and gazed around. Opposite was the railroad station, true enough, and beyond blocks and blocks of tall business buildings, which reminded me strongly of New York.
I paid the cabman the two dollars I had promised, and he drove off.
In Chicago at last! I looked around. I was in the heart of a great city, knowing no one, and with no idea of where to go. ”

“ I went on. "Your pockets are full of them."
"See here, Roger Strong, just you mind your own business and leave me alone."
"I am minding my business," I rejoined warmly.
"Indeed!" And Duncan put as much of a sneer as was possible in the word.
"Yes, indeed. Widow Canby pays me for taking care of her orchard, and that includes keeping an eye on these pear trees," and I approached the tree upon the lowest branch of which Duncan was standing.
"Humph! You think you're mighty big!" he blustered, as he jumped to the ground. "What right has a fellow like you to talk to me in this manner? ”

“ You rascal, you!"
"How did you get out?" put in John Stumpy.
"None of your business," I replied briskly. "If you'd had your way I'd been burnt up in the tool house last night."
"No such thing," was the tramp's reply. "Never saw you before."
"You're the fellow who stole the Widow Canby's money."
"You must be crazy, young fellow. I don't know anything about the Widow Canby or her money."
"I can prove it. My sister can prove it, too."
"Then your sister must be as crazy as yourself."
"Stop there! You're the thief and you know it." ”

“ The merchant winced at the use of a nickname, but after an instant's hesitation passed it over.
"What do you mean by coming to Darbyville, sir, when I have repeatedly written you to stay away?"
"Oh, come, Woody, don't get on your high horse," was Stumpy's response, as he swung back in the rocker he occupied. "You know I never could stand your high-toned ways."
"I flatter myself I am a trifle above common people," returned Mr. Woodward, and it was plain to see where Duncan got his arrogant manner. ”

“ I was in a hurry to get away to drive Widow Canby to the station. To leave the man hanging about the house with no one but my sister Kate home was simply out of the question.
Suddenly an idea struck me. Like most people who live in the country, Mrs. Canby kept a watch-dog—a large and powerful mastiff called Major. He was tied up near the back stoop out of sight, but could be pressed into service on short notice. ”

“ I knew Duncan Woodward would not hesitate to attack me. He was a much larger fellow than myself, and always ready to fight any one he thought he could whip.
Yet I was not prepared for the sudden onslaught that had been made. ”

“ Say, how much does the young cub know?"
"He knows too much for the good of either of us," responded the merchant.
"Sorry he wasn't found in the ruins of that tool house," growled the tramp, savagely.
This was certainly a fine assertion for me to hear. Yet it was no more than I would expect from John Stumpy. He was a villain through and through.
"You meant to burn him up, did you?" asked Mr. Woodward.
"And if I had, Mr. Aaron Woodward would never have shed a tear," laughed John Stumpy.
"Let me see the statement." ”

“ Judge Penfold was all ears at once. Indeed, it may be as well to state that he was a widower and had paid Widow Canby much attention, which, however, I well knew that good lady heartily resented. No doubt he thought if he could render her any assistance it would help along his suit.
"We must catch the fellow at once," he said. "Parsons, you must catch him without fail."
"Easier said than done, judge," replied the constable, doubtfully. "Where am I to look for him? The country around here is pretty large."
"No matter. You are constable, and it is your duty to seek him out. ”

“ I did not relish the idea of going into such a place, and I knew that my sister Kate and the Widow Canby would be horrified when they heard of it.
"What kind of a man is this Holtzmann?" I continued, seeing that the man I had accosted was inclined to talk.
"Oh, he's a good enough kind of a fellow if you know how to take him," was the reply. "He's a bit cranky if he's had a glass too much, but that don't happen often."
"Does he run the place himself?"
"What, tend bar and so?"
"Yes."
"Oh, no; he's too high-toned for that. He only bosses things. They say he's rich. ”

“ The thief might be in hiding close at hand, or he might be miles away.
"Some of us had better make a search," put in another. "Come, boys, we'll spread out and scour the woods."
"That's a good idea," said Tony Parsons, the constable of the town. "Meanwhile, Roger Strong, let us go to Judge Penfold's house and put the case in his hands. He'll get out a warrant, and perhaps a reward."
I thought this was a good idea, and readily assented, first, however, getting one of the boys to promise that he would call at the widow's house and quiet Kate's fears concerning my whereabouts. ”

“ Allen Price with my handbag, trying to open it. It looked very much as if my fellow-passenger was endeavoring to rob me.
I had suspected from the start that this man was not "straight." There was that peculiar something about his manner which I did not like. He had been altogether too familiar from the first; too willing to make himself agreeable.
What he expected to find in my bag I could not imagine. If his mission was robbery pure and simple, why had he not selected some one who looked richer than myself? ”

“ In this story we are introduced to Roger Strong, a typical American country lad, and his sister Kate, who, by an unhappy combination of events, are thrown upon their own resources and compelled to make their own way in the world.
To make one's way in the world is, ordinarily, difficult enough; but when one is handicapped by a cloud on the family name, the difficulty becomes far greater. ”

“ At first I was amazed at their actions, and then, as the ridiculousness of the situation presented itself, I smiled. "A guilty conscience needeth no accuser," it is said, and this truth was verified to the letter.
Yet I was sorry that I had not had a chance to speak to them. I wanted to question them in regard to the thief. Perhaps they had seen him, and if so, I did not want to miss my chance of getting upon his track.
Jumping over the fence, I walked slowly down the road, but not in hopes of meeting John Stumpy. ”

“ With his father thrown into prison on a serious charge, Roger finds that few people will have anything to do with either himself or his sister, and the jeers flung at him are at times almost more than he can bear. But he is "true to himself" in the best meaning of that saying, rising above those who would pull him down, and, in the end, not only succeeds in making a place for himself in the world, but also scores a worthy triumph over those who had caused his parents' downfall. ”

“ Sitting down, I gave him the particulars of my visit to Chris Holtzmann and to Sammy Simpson, and handed over the documents for inspection. Mr. Harrison was deeply interested, and examined the papers with great care. It took him nearly an hour to do so, and then he plied me with numerous questions.
"Do you know what my advice is?" he asked, at length.
"No, sir."
"I advise you to have both Holtzmann and Woodward arrested at once. They are thorough rascals, and your father is the innocent victim of their cupidity."
"But how can I do that? No one knows me here in Chicago." ”