Harold Howland - "Theodore Roosevelt and His Times,"

Jack London - "Tales of the Fish Patrol"

William Gilmore Simms - "The Life of Francis Marion"

Edgar Allan Poe - "The Raven, The Masque of the Red Death, The Cask of Amontillado"

The Rover Boys in Business

A >> Arthur M. Winfield >> The Rover Boys in Business




"Did she know the man?"

"She did not. At least, she said she didn't recognize him, for, you
see, there was only one little light burnin' in the hallway, because
nearly all the tinnents had gone home. The illevator wouldn't have
been runnin', only we was goin' to take up the stuff to the office we
was cleanin' on the fifth floor."

"Your daughter saw that man in the hallway?" questioned Tom. "Did he
seem to come from these offices?"

"No, I axed her particular, and she said he seemed to be comin' from
the back av the hall."

"What is back there?" asked Sam.

"A winder wid a fire escape outside," answered the janitor. "Likewise,
I've a sink closet there, where I keep me brooms and me brushes and
such."

"And you have no idea who the man was?" questioned Dick.

"No, sur. I axed Kitty how he looked, but she said she hadn't seen his
face-- that he turned away from her and went down the stairs as fast
as he could."

"More than likely that was the thief!" exclaimed Tom. "The question
is: Who is he and where did he go?"

"Did your daughter say how the man was dressed?" asked Sam.

"Sure! She said he had on a dark suit of clothes and a dark, soft hat.
That's all she knew."

"Was he a big man?"

"Oh, she said he was about middlin' big."

This was all the old janitor could tell, and a little later he brought
in both his wife and his daughter to be interviewed. The girl was
almost scared to death, and could add nothing to what her father had
already told.

"Well, it's a clew, even if it is a slight one," was Tom's comment.
"Dick, I guess the best thing you can do is to call up police
headquarters."

"I'll do it. But please remember one thing," went on the oldest Rover
boy, turning to the janitor and his family and also the office boy.
"We want to keep this as quiet as possible for the present, so please
don't say anything about it." And all of them promised to keep silent.

It did not take long for Dick to get into communication with the
authorities, and after a short talk over the telephone, he was told
that a couple of detectives would be sent down to his once without
delay.

"Have you told Mr. Powell?" questioned Tom, suddenly.

"No, but I will call him up now," answered his older brother.

Of course the lawyer was astonished at the news, and asked what steps
had been taken to apprehend the thief. When told that the authorities
had been asked to take charge of the case, he wanted to know if he
could be of any assistance.

"I don't see how you can help us, Mr. Powell," answered Dick, over the
wire. "I suppose we will have to put the whole matter in the hands of
the police."

"Well, if I can do anything at all, let me know," answered Songbird's
uncle. "I am rather busy now, but as soon as I am at leisure, I will
call and talk the matter over with you."

Inside of half an hour the two detectives from headquarters arrived.
They were bright, sharp-eyed individuals, and they got down to
business without delay. They asked Dick innumerable questions, and
looked carefully at the safe, trying the combination several times,
and then inspected the offices and the hallway. After that they
subjected Kittie Donovan to a close examination, getting the girl to
tell everything she could possibly think of regarding the strange man
she had seen on the evening when the robbery had occurred.

"I think I know who did this job," said one of the detectives to the
other.

"Looks like the work of one of three men to me," returned the other
sleuth. "Baldy Jackson, Slim Martin, or Hank the Bluffer."

"You may be right, Joe, but I think it was Hank. If I've got the dope
right, those other two fellows you mention are not near New York just
now."

"Well, if Baldy and Slim can prove that they weren't around New York
at the time, then I'll agree with you that it was Hank who lifted that
box," returned the other detective.

"Who is this Hank the Bluffer?" questioned Dick, curiously.

"Oh, he's an old one at this sort of game," returned one of the
detectives. "He is a wonder at opening safes. Somebody told me once
that he made the assertion he could open any ordinary office safe
inside of fifteen minutes. He's got it all in his finger ends. They
are so sensitive that when he turns the safe knob, he can feel every
movement of the tumblers inside."

"And he is at liberty now?" asked Sam.

"He was the last I heard of him. He got out of a Massachusetts prison
about three months ago. Somebody told me he was in New York. I haven't
seen him, but if he is here I think we can round him up sooner or
later."

"Well, what we want are those bonds," declared Dick.

"Oh, sure! That's what we'll go after," declared the detective. "Even
if we locate our man, we won't arrest him until we can get him with
the goods."

Following this conversation, the detectives made a memorandum of all
the bonds that had been taken, along with the numbers thereon.

"If the thief is an old one at the game, it's not likely that he'll
try to use those registered bonds," said one of the detectives, "but
he'll find plenty of places where he can use the others, if he knows
the game."

"I'm inclined to agree with you on one point," said Dick. "And that is
that no ordinary person could have worked the combination of that
safe. It must have been some professional."

"You are right, Mr. Rover-- unless somebody got the figures of the
combination on the sly," answered the sleuth; and a few minutes later
he and his fellow-officer left, promising to make a report as soon as
anything worth while was brought to light.

Having gotten rid of the detectives and also of the janitor and his
family, the Rover boys shut themselves in the inner office to discuss
the situation. They had requested the authorities to keep the whole
matter quiet for the present, and this the detectives had agreed to
do.

"Now, first of all, Dick, tell us: Will this loss affect any of our
other investments?" asked Tom.

"Not for the present, Tom, but how we shall stand later on if the
securities are not recovered, I am not prepared to say." Dick's face
clouded. "You see, it is this way: We have our investments in the West
as well as those we went into in Boston some time ago. We-- that is,
dad-- was going to take a loan on that mining proposition. That would
involve our putting up some of those bonds-- say forty or fifty
thousand dollars' worth-- as collateral security with the banks. Now,
if we don't get the bonds back, dad will either have to cancel that
loan or, otherwise, put up something else as security-- and what else
we can put up just now, I don't know. It's a bad state of affairs."

"Oh, we've just got to get those bonds back!" cried Sam, impulsively.
"We've just got to!"

"Easy enough to say, Sam, but wishing them back isn't going to bring
them back," came from Tom, grimly.

"If we only had a little more of a clew to work on, we, ourselves,
might try to get those bonds back instead of relying on the
detectives," said Dick. "But when you haven't any clews, how are you
going to strike out?"

"We might try to find that strange man, whoever he is," suggested Tom.
"Although looking for him would be a good deal like looking for the
proverbial pin in the haystack. I would rather dig up the whole of the
Atlantic seacoast looking for Captain Kidd's treasure;" and he smiled
grimly.

CHAPTER XX

BARTON PELTER AGAIN

"Well, Dick, any news?"

"No, Tom. It's the same old story."

"Haven't the detectives been able to locate that fellow they thought
might be guilty?" put in Sam.

"No, Sam. They told me up at headquarters that all of the three former
criminals one of the detectives mentioned, were nowhere near New York,
so far as they could learn."

"Then if they haven't been near this city, that supposition of theirs
falls through," was Tom's comment. "What do they propose to do next?"

"I don't think they know. Anyway, they didn't give me any
satisfaction;" and, hanging up his hat, Dick sank into an office
chair, looking much downcast.

Several days had passed, and during that time the Rover boys had done
their best to get further clews concerning the robbery. From an old
man who kept an apple stand near the entrance of the building, they
had learned that the strange fellow who had been seen by Kittie
Donovan was a man of perhaps forty years of age, with a clean-shaven
face. But more than that the street merchant was unable to say.

"And there are thousands of men in New York City who are about that
age and who have clean-shaven faces," had been Sam's comment on
learning this. "That clew won't get us anywhere. Now, if the fellow
had limped, or had a crooked nose----"

"Sure! And a false tooth with two spots of gold and a diamond in it,
and all that sort of thing," Tom had broken in. "Say, Sam, what do you
want, some clews made to order?" and he had laughed grimly.

"I must confess, I am at my wits' end," said Dick.

"What did Mr. Powell have to say about it?" questioned Tom, for he and
Sam had been out hunting for clews when the lawyer had called.

"What could he say? He wasn't here when the bonds were taken. He asked
me about our other investments; and he said if we got into any
financial difficulties through this loss, he would aid us all he
could."

"Bully for Songbird's uncle!" cried Sam. "He's as generous as Songbird
himself."

"What's bothering me is this," continued the oldest Rover boy. "Sooner
or later, if we don't recover those bonds, we have got to let dad know
about the loss; and how he is going to take it, I don't know."

"Oh, let us keep it from him just as long as possible," broke in Sam,
entreatingly. "Why, Dick, you haven't any idea how run down he is, and
how nervous!"

"Oh, yes, I have, Sam. And that is what is worrying me. I don't know
if we are doing right to keep this from him."

"Before we tell him anything, let us consult Uncle Randolph and Aunt
Martha," said Tom. "If they know the truth, that will lift a little of
the responsibility from our shoulders."

"I am not going to tell any of them-- at least, not for a week or so
longer," returned Dick. "I am living in hope every day that we'll get
some kind of a clew."

It had rained hard the day previous, but now the sky was clear. With
but little to do in the offices that afternoon after three o'clock,
the Rover boys took a walk up Broadway from Wall Street to where the
Outlook Hotel was located.

"It certainly is a busy city," was Tom's comment, as they came to a
temporary halt in front of the post-office. "Just look at the stream
of humanity and the cars and wagons, not to speak of the automobiles."

"What takes my eye, is the size of so many of these buildings,"
declared Sam. "Say, maybe an earthquake around here wouldn't do some
damage!"

"And to think of the way the people travel!" broke in Dick. "They are
down in the ground, on the street, and up in the air," and he smiled a
little at the thought.

Walking past the post-office, the three youths entered City Hall Park,
crossing the same to look at some of the bulletin boards put out by
the newspapers located on Park Row.

"Hello!" cried Tom, suddenly; and caught each of his brothers by the
arm.

"What now, Tom?" asked Dick, quickly.

"See that fellow over there, leaning against the fence, reading a
newspaper?"

"Why, I declare! It is Barton Pelter!" ejaculated Sam.

"You mean Jesse Pelter's nephew-- the chap you hauled out of the
river?" questioned Dick.

"The same," returned Tom. "Say, I think I'll go over and talk to him,"
he added, quickly.

"He may not want to talk to you, Tom," interposed his younger brother.

"I'll risk it;" and so speaking, Tom stepped forward and advanced to
where the other youth was busy looking over the sporting edition of
one of the afternoon sheets.

"What is it? I don't seem to remember you," said Barton Pelter, when
Tom touched his arm.

"I am Tom Rover," was the reply. "This is my brother Sam, and this my
brother Dick;" and Tom pointed to the others, who were coming up.

"Oh, is that so!" returned Barton Pelter, and put out his hand. "I am
glad to see you," he continued, somewhat hesitatingly. "Is this the
one who helped to pull me out of the river?" and he nodded towards
Sam.

"Yes."

"I am certainly very much obliged to both of you," continued the young
man, and his face showed that he meant what he said. "If it hadn't
been for you, I might have been drowned. I suppose you-- er-- you--
er-- got my letter?"

"Oh, yes, and we understood it, perfectly," returned Tom, hastily.
"It's all right. We didn't do so much, after all."

"I think you did a good deal," and Barton Pelter laughed nervously.
"You-- you are now in business where my uncle used to be, are you
not?"

"We are," answered Dick. "By the way,

what has become of your uncle?" he questioned, curiously.

"I don't know, exactly. I think though he is going East. Perhaps to
Boston. How is business with you?" the young man continued, hastily,
as if he wanted to change the subject.

"Oh, business is all right enough," answered Dick. And then he looked
meaningly at his brothers.

"The trouble with us is, we've been very unfortunate," broke in Tom,
before the others could stop him. "We've just suffered a tremendous
loss."

"Is that so? In what way?"

Before answering, Tom looked at Dick. "Shall I tell him?" he
questioned, in a low tone.

"You might as well, since you have gone so far," was the reply. "In
fact, I don't know that it will do much good to keep still any
longer."

"We've been robbed."

"You don't say so! Did you lose much?"

"We lost sixty-four thousand dollars' worth of bonds," answered Sam.

"Oh, a bad business deal, I presume." And Barton Pelter smiled grimly.
"That's the way it is in Wall Street. You are up one day, and down the
next. That's the way it was with my uncle."

"No, we didn't lose the bonds that way," answered Dick. "They were
stolen."

"Stolen! From where?"

"From our office."

"Why, that's the worst I ever heard!" declared Barton Pelter, with
interest. "Who was it? Did some fellow sneak into your offices and
take them?"

"We don't know how the robbery took place," answered Tom. "My brother
put the bonds in a japanned box that was locked, and put the box in
the once safe one afternoon. The next morning when he opened the safe,
the box with the bonds was gone."

"What's that!" exclaimed the listener, excitedly. "You had them in a
box, and put the box in your safe? Do you mean the safe that was in
the offices when my uncle and Mr. Japson had it?"

"Sure! it's the same safe," answered Dick.

"Well, what do you know about that!" gasped Barton Pelter. His face
showed increasing interest. "When was all this?"

"Just about a week ago."

"Haven't you any clews to the robbery?"

"Nothing very much," answered Dick, before either of his brothers
could speak. "A girl saw a man leaving the building the evening of the
robbery, but who he was, she did not know."

"And you say the box was put in the safe my uncle used to own?" went
on the young man. "Of course it was locked?"

"Yes."

"Was it-- er-- er-- was it-- er-- that is, did you have the same
combination on it that the lock used to have?" stammered the other.

"No. I had the combination changed."

"And you haven't got the least idea then who took the bonds?"
questioned Barton Pelter.

"Not so far."

"It's strange. Say, that's a fierce loss! I couldn't lose that much;"
and the young man laughed nervously.

"Are you working in New York?" asked Tom, following an awkward pause.

"I haven't anything to do just now, but I am hoping to get a situation
soon," answered Barton Pelter. "I've got to be going now," he added,
and after a few words more, he made his way to the elevated station at
the entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge.

"Evidently a pretty decent sort of a fellow," was Dick's comment, as
the three brothers walked over to look at the newspaper bulletin
boards. "It's too bad he has Jesse Pelter for an uncle."

"That news about our robbery seemed to astonish him," said Sam. "Did
you hear him ask about the combination on the safe? He must have been
wondering whether we suspected his uncle or Japson."

"That isn't strange," was Tom's comment, "when one knows what kind of
rascals those two men are."

With the shadow of the loss hanging over them the Rover boys were in
no mood to amuse themselves. Had it been otherwise, they might have
gone to the theater or some concert, or possibly to some moving
picture show. But, as it was, they spent most of their time at the
offices and the hotel, and in looking around for clews.

"I received two nice letters to-day," said Dora that evening, when her
husband and the others appeared, and she held up the missives. "One is
from mamma, and she sends her best love to all of you. The other is
from your Aunt Martha."

"And what does she say about dad?" asked Dick, quickly.

"She says there is no change in his general condition, but that he
continues to worry about business matters. He wants to make sure that
everything here, in New York City, is going along all right."

"Poor, old dad!" murmured Tom, and his voice was full of sympathy. "We
certainly can't let him know the truth."

"Oh, not for the world, Tom!" cried Dora.

"But what are we going to do if the bonds are not found?" questioned
Dick. "He has got to know it some time."

"Well, put it off as long as you can," returned his wife.

"Oh, if we could only find those bonds!" exclaimed Sam. "We've just
got to do it! We've got to!"

CHAPTER XXI

DAYS OF ANXIOUS WAITING

Another week passed without bringing anything new to light concerning
the missing bonds. During that time the Rover boys received two visits
from the headquarters' detectives, and were again subjected to
innumerable questions.

"We're on a new tack," said one of the sleuths. "I think we'll be able
to report something to you in a few days."

"You can't do it too quickly," returned Dick.

"Oh, I know that," answered the detective, with a short laugh; and
then he and his companion backed themselves out.

"Say, Dick, I don't take much stock in those fellows," was Tom's
comment. "They are good at talking, but it looks to me as if they
didn't know where they were at."

"Exactly the way I look at it!" broke in Sam.

During that time the boys also received visits from several private
detectives, all anxious to take hold of the case, but none of them
willing to do so without first receiving a generous retainer.

"I am not going to pay out anything in advance," Dick told one of
these fellows-- a shabby looking chap. "You locate the bonds, and
you'll be well paid for it."

"I don't work unless I'm paid for it," snapped the detective, and left
the offices quite indignant.

"I suppose we could get a thousand detectives on this case if we were
willing to put up the money," said Tom.

"It might pay to hire some first-class man," ventured Sam, "but not
that sort."

"I'll call up Mr. Powell and see what he thinks of it," answered Dick.
And a little later he was in communication with Songbird's uncle over
the telephone.

"It wouldn't do any harm to put some first-class man on the case,"
said the lawyer. "If you wish me to do so, I'll put you in touch with
the best detective agency in the city."

As a result of this talk, the Rovers obtained the address of a
detective whose name is well-known in every large city of the United
States. This man called on them the following day, and went over the
case very carefully with the youths. He examined the safe and the
combination lock, and then had a long talk with Kitty Donovan and her
father and her mother, and also a talk with the old man who kept the
little fruit stand downstairs.

"I'll do all I can, Mr. Rover," he said, when he re-entered the
offices, "but you mustn't expect too much. This is certainly a
mystery."

"Mr. Bronson is the most intelligent detective I've seen yet," said
Sam, after the man had departed. "He handles the case as if it was a
strict business proposition."

"That's what I like to see," declared Tom. "The other kind of
detective is good enough for a dime or a half-dime story book, but he
never makes any success of it in real life."

It must not be supposed that now they were in New York, Tom and Sam
had forgotten the Laning girls. They had written to Nellie and Grace,
forwarding the letters to Cedarville because Hope Seminary was on the
point of closing for the season.

"Letters for both of you!" cried Dora, when they and Dick appeared at
the hotel one evening after a rather strenuous day in the offices,
where all had been busy forming their plans for further investments.

"Good for you, Dora!" answered Tom, and held out his hand eagerly.

"Now wouldn't you like to have it?" she answered mischievously,
holding a letter just out of his reach.

"Where is mine?" demanded Sam.

"Oh, I thought you wouldn't want that so I tore it up," she answered,
with a twinkle in her eyes.

"If you don't give me that letter, Dora, something is going to happen
to you," went on Tom; and now he caught her by the wrist. "You know
the forfeit-- a kiss!"

"All right, take your letter, Mr. Can't-Wait," she returned, and
handed him the missive.

"But you said you had one for me!" broke in Sam. "Come now, Dora,
don't be mean."

"Oh, Sam, it's only a bill."

"A bill! You are fooling!" And then as his face fell, she did not have
the heart to tease him longer, and brought the letter forth from her
handbag.

As the lads had anticipated, the communications were from Grace and
Nellie. In them the girls said that the session at the seminary was
over, and that the day previous they had returned to their home on the
outskirts of Cedarville. Both had passed in their examinations, for
which they were exceedingly thankful.

"But they haven't found that four-hundred-dollar diamond ring yet,"
said Sam, after he had finished his letter. "It certainly is a shame!"

"It's as great a mystery as the disappearance of our bonds," was
Dick's comment.

"What has Nellie to say about it, Tom?" questioned Dora, anxiously;
for even though she was married and away from them, her two cousins
were as dear to her as ever.

"She doesn't say very much," answered Tom. "No one has seen or heard
anything about the ring."

"But what of Miss Harrow? How has she treated Nellie since the fire?"

"She says Miss Harrow has not been very well, and consequently did not
take part in the final examinations. Now the teacher has gone to
Asbury Park, on the New Jersey coast, to spend the summer."

"Perhaps that mystery never will be solved," said Sam. "It's a jolly
shame, that's all I've got to say about it!"

After dinner that evening, as it was exceedingly warm, none of the
young folks felt like staying in the hotel. Dick proposed that they
take a stroll up Broadway.

"We can walk till we get tired," he said, "and then if you feel like
it, we can jump into a taxi and take a ride around Central Park before
we retire."

"That will be nice," returned Dora; and Tom and Sam said it would suit
them, too.

As usual, upper Broadway-- commonly called The Great White Way-- was
ablaze with electric lights. As the young folks strolled along, the
great, flaring advertising signs perched on the tops of many of the
buildings interested them greatly.

"I heard yesterday that some of those signs cost ten thousand dollars
and more," observed Sam. "What a lot of money to put into them!"

"So it is, Sam. But think of all the money some firms spend in
newspaper and magazine advertising," answered Dick.

"Some day we'll have to do some advertising ourselves," put in Tom.
"That is, after we get our business in first-class running order."

"And get our bonds back," added Dick.

"Oh, say, let's forget those bonds for just one night!" entreated Sam.
"I haven't been able to get a good night's sleep since I came here
because of them."

The portion of Broadway where they were walking, is lined with
innumerable theaters and moving picture places. They had passed on
less than three blocks further, when Sam suddenly caught Tom by the
arm.

"Here we are, Tom!" he exclaimed, somewhat excitedly. "Here's that
moving picture."

"So it is!" returned Tom, and immediately became as interested as his
younger brother. They had come to a halt before a gorgeous moving
picture establishment, and on one of the billboards they saw exhibited
a flashy lithograph, depicting two men struggling in a rowboat with a
third man on the shore aiming a gun at one of the others. Over the
picture were the words: "His Last Chance. A Thrilling Rural Drama in
Two Reels."

"What is it, Tom?" questioned Dora.

"Why, that's the moving picture play we told you about-- the one that
we got into at the Oak Run railroad station," explained the youth.
"That picture you see there was taken along the river bank back of our
farm. Another picture shows the railroad station at Oak Run, with old
Ricks in it, and still another ought to show the railroad train with
Sam and me on the back platform. Let us go in and see it."

"Why, yes, I want to see that by all means!" declared Dick's wife.
"Won't it be funny to see you boys in a moving picture!"

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