apapiu/simple_text_files · Datasets at Hugging Face

"I don't, but another fellow, my brother, and my father, do," said Dick. "If you'll take them, we'll pay you."

"All right," was the answer. "Come right along."

"How far is it to the railroad station?" went on Dick.

"About two miles."

"Will you take 'em over?"

"Sure -- I'm going there myself."

Dick hurried back to the barn, and soon Sam and Mr. Rover were in the wagon. Before Sam left his big brother gave him some instructions in private. Then the wagon went on through the rain.

"Thank heaven! dad is safe!" murmured Tom, when the wagon had disappeared. "I hope Sam doesn't let him out of his sight until those business affairs are settled up."

"He is going to take him to the Outlook Hotel first," answered Dick. "But he is going to do more than that, Tom -- if it is possible."

"What?"

"I told him to stop in that town and send some help here -- a police official, or a constable, or some men. Crabtree has got to go back to jail, and I think we ought to have Pelter and Japson locked up, too -- although that may depend upon what father may have to say."

"Then we can't do anything until somebody gets here from town," said Tom, somewhat disappointedly.

"We can watch those rascals and listen to what they are talking about," returned Dick.

Both boys returned to the barn, to get out of the rain. Then they sneaked to the cellar of the house and up to the kitchen, and then to a little storeroom next to the dining room. From the storeroom they could catch much of the conversation coming from the three men in the dining room.

There were some matters Dick and Tom did not understand. But from what was said they learned that Japson was a distant relative of Josiah Crabtree and the two had been in several shady transactions together. Crabtree had agreed, if aided in his escape from the Plankville jail, to assist the brokers in making Anderson Rover a prisoner and keeping him such until he signed certain documents and until the time had passed when he could no longer take up the options which were so valuable to the Rovers and their friends.

"Well, I think these documents are all right," the boys heard Jesse Pelter say, presently. "Now we can turn them over to Belright Fogg and tell him to go ahead."

The boys looked at each other in amazement. Belright Fogg! The lawyer who had tried to outwit them in their claim against the railroad company because of the smashed Dartaway! Was that fellow mixed up in this game also? It looked like it.

Chapter XXIV

From A Garret Window

"This is getting interesting!" whispered Tom.

"I should say so," murmured Dick.

"That must have been what was bringing Belright Fogg down to New York City."

"It looks like it."

"Well, if he is mixed up in this he can get pinched with the rest of the rascals."

"Right you are."

After that the boys listened to more of the talk between the brokers and Josiah Crabtree. From what was said it was easy to guess that the plotters expected to make quite a large sum of money out of their evil doings.

"But you have got to get Rover's signatures to those papers," said Jesse Pelter.

"We'll do it!" cried Josiah Crabtree. "Even if we have to starve him into it."

"I hope those boys didn't come after the schooner," muttered Japson.

"I reckon Captain Rodney will know how to throw 'em off the scent," returned Crabtree.

"We were lucky to find that automobile at the tavern," went on Pelter.

Some more talk followed and then Japson exclaimed:

"Why can't we make Rover sign those papers now? Maybe we can scare him into it."

"We might try," answered his partner, slowly.

The men arose and Japson lit a lantern, for he knew it was dark in the garret. Then, one behind the other, they filed out into the hallway and went upstairs.

"They are going to find out something pretty soon!" chuckled Tom.

"Come on, let us follow 'em, Tom," answered his brother. "I've got a new idea."

"What is it?"

"Perhaps we can lock 'em in that garret until help arrives."

"Just the cheese, Dick! I remember there was a lock on the door, -- and maybe we can fasten it in some other way, too -- so they can't break out."

"They can't get out by the windows -- they are too high from the ground."

By this time the three men were mounting the garret stairs. They had to pass around a pile of furniture to get to where Anderson Rover had been kept a prisoner.

"Quick now!" cried Dick, as the men disappeared from view. He closed the garret door and turned the key in the lock. "Get a chair or two, Tom, so we can wedge the door fast."

Tom understood, and ran into a nearby room, to bring out a square table. The stairway to the garret ran from a right angle of the wall, so that the table could be stood up against the door, with the bottom of the four legs against the wall opposite. Some books chanced to be handy, and the lads were able to place these against the wall under the feet of the table legs, thus wedging the door fast.

"Now I reckon they'll have their own job getting out!" cried Tom, grimly.

"Go to a front window and watch the road," ordered his big brother. "If you see any help coming, call them."

Tom at once departed, to station himself at the window of one of the front bed chambers. By this time a clattering of feet could be heard on the garret stairs.

"He has locked the door on us!" came a cry in Jesse Pelter's voice.