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Dataset card Data Studio Files
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"We'll keep them for the present, Mr. Garley."
"All right."
"And I want you to watch out, so that no outsider gets into them," went on Dick.
"Leave that to me, Mr. Rover. My men have their instructions. We can't afford to leave our guests go unprotected."
"Good! If anybody tries to get into our rooms I want you to have him arrested and held."
"He'll be held, don't worry about that," answered the hotel manager, grimly.
A little later the three Rover boys separated, Tom walking over to Fifth Avenue, to take an auto bus going uptown, as that would land him close to the Park entrance.
"We might as well take a Broadway car down to Wall street," said Dick, to Sam. "We have plenty of time, and I don't like the air in the subway."
"I like the street cars better anyway," responded the younger brother. "A fellow can see more."
As was to be expected, the car was crowded, and the boys had to take "strap seats," as Sam called them -- standing up in the aisle, holding on to a strap to keep from falling or sitting down suddenly into somebody's lap when the car made a turn. They swept down past Union Square and block after block of tall business buildings.
"My, what a big place New York is!" remarked Sam. "It's a regular bee hive and no mistake."
"We are coming down to the Post Office," said Dick, a little later.
"Gracious! See the building opposite!" gasped Sam. "It's higher than a church steeple! Wonder how many stories it is?"
"Fifty stories," answered a young man standing beside him.
Soon the car was in lower Broadway, and the boys watched out for Wall street, that narrow but famous thoroughfare opposite Trinity church. It was soon reached, and, in company with several men and boys, they left the car.
Dick had the address of the brokers in his pocket and the place was easily found. The offices were located in an old building -- one of the oldest on the street, and also one of the shabbiest. But it was five stories in height and boasted of two elevators, and was, from appearances, filled with prosperous tenants. In Wall street rents are so high that many a person doing business there is willing to take whatever quarters he can get.
"Now you hang around in the street here until I come back," said Dick to Sam. "Keep out of sight all you can, so that if Crabtree comes along he won't see you. I'll go up and see what Pelter, Japson & Company have to say."
"How long will you be gone, Dick?"
"Not more than half an hour at the most -- and maybe not half that," responded the big brother.
Sam dropped behind and Dick entered the dingy office building. From the directory on the wall the oldest Rover boy learned that the brokers were located on the fourth floor, rooms 408 to 412, -- the numerals really meaning offices 8 to 12 on floor 4. He got into one of the narrow elevators and soon reached the fourth floor.
The offices of Pelter, Japson & Company were located in the rear, overlooking the roof of a restaurant on the street beyond. Dick entered a tiny waiting room and an office boy came to ask what he wanted.
"I wish to see Mr. Pelter," said Dick.
"Not in yet."
"When do you expect him?"
"Ought to be here now."
"Then I'll wait," and Dick dropped on a chair. He had hardly done so when the door opened and a burly individual hurried in. He gave Dick an inquiring look.
"Wants to see you, Mr. Pelter," said the office boy. "Just came in."
"Want to see me? What is it?" and the head of the brokerage firm stepped up to Dick.
"You are Mr. Pelter?"
"Yes."
"I am Richard Rover -- Anderson Rover's son."
"Ah! indeed!" cried Jesse Pelter, and gave a slight start. "Glad to meet you, Mr. Rover," and he held out his hand. "Will you -- er -- step into my office?"
He led the way through two offices to one in the extreme rear. This was well furnished, with a desk, a table, several chairs and a bookcase filled with legal-looking volumes. In one corner was a telephone booth, and a telephone connection also rested on the desk.
"I came to see about my father," said Dick, as he sat down in a chair to which the broker motioned.
"You mean, about your father's business, I suppose."
"No, about my father. Do you know where he is, Mr. Pelter?"
"Know where he is? What do you mean? Isn't he in New York?" The broker pretended to arrange some papers on his desk as he spoke and did not look at Dick.
"He has disappeared and I thought you might know something about it."
Dick looked the man full in the face. He saw the broker start and then try to control himself.
"Well that -- er -- accounts for it," said Jesse Pelter, slowly, as if trying to make up his mind what to say.
"Accounts for what?"
"Why, he didn't come back here as he said he would."
"He has been here then?"
"Yes, a number of days ago. We had quite some important business to transact. He said he would come back the next day and sign some papers, and fix up some other matters. But he didn't come."
"Did he say he would be here sure?"
"He did. So he has disappeared? That is strange. Perhaps some accident happened to him."
"I hope not. I knew he came to New York to see you and your partners. I thought you could tell me something about him."
"I don't know any more than that he called here one day and said he would come in again the next, Mr. Rover. If he is -- er -- missing you had better notify the police, -- unless you have some idea where he went to," continued the broker.
"I have no idea further than that he came to New York to see you -- and that he came here from his hotel."
"See here! Do you mean to insinuate that we -- er -- may know where he is -- why he is missing?" demanded Jesse Pelter, sharply.