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Randy of the River: The Adventures of a Young Deckhand, a novel by Horatio Alger |
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Chapter 24. Another Hiding Place |
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_ CHAPTER XXIV. ANOTHER HIDING PLACE Mrs. Bangs breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the papers. "You are certain you are right, Mr. Tuller?" she asked, anxiously. "Yes." "Where did those papers come from?" "Mr. Bartlett's desk at the iron works." "As they were in my husband's safe I think you ought to give them to me." "I will do so, Mrs. Bangs. But you must put them where they cannot be found." "Trust me for that." "The officers of the law may search the whole house." "Dare they do such a thing?" "Yes, but if everything is found square your husband can sue Bartlett for damages," and Jasper Tuller chuckled loudly. "It will be a good joke on him." "There are no more of the papers?" "I will take another look and make sure." This was done, but no more papers belonging to Philip Bartlett could be found. Then the safe was locked once more. "I will put these papers away at once," said Mrs. Bangs and left the library with the documents in her hand. She was gone all of five minutes and came back smiling quietly to herself. "Now they are safe," she said. "Nobody can possibly find them." "I am glad to hear it," answered Tuller. "Now I had better be going--before Bartlett appears. Don't say anything about my having been here." "I will not." "And another thing, Mrs. Bangs. Pretend not to know how to open the safe. That will compel them to break it open, and your husband's case against Bartlett will be so much stronger." "I shall follow your advice, Mr. Tuller. But look, somebody is coming already!" went on the fashionable woman, as a carriage turned in from the road and came toward the horse block. "I must get out of this! Can I go by a back door?" "To be sure," said Mrs. Bangs, and showed the way. As Tuller slipped out and passed toward the back road where Randy had had an encounter with Bob Bangs, there came a ring at the front door. "Good-morning, Mrs. Bangs," said Mr. Bartlett. "Is your husband at home?" "He is not," answered the fashionable woman, coldly. "I've got a search warrant for this place," said the constable, pushing his way in, and he proceeded to read the document aloud. "This is an outrage!" cried Mrs. Bangs, with assumed dignity. "An outrage, and you shall pay dearly for it, Mr. Bartlett. My husband is no thief, to steal your papers." "Perhaps not," answered Philip Bartlett. "Nevertheless, I am going to have his safe searched and also this house." "Well, since you have the law on your side, go ahead. But you shall answer to my husband for this indignity." The constable began his work, and the safe opener approached the strong box and inspected it. "Can you open it?" asked Mr. Bartlett, anxiously. "With ease," was the answer. "This is one of the old-style safes." "How much will it cost?" "Ten dollars." "Then go ahead." The safe opener was soon at work. He turned the knob around slowly, listening intently in the meanwhile. He worked thus for perhaps ten minutes, when the door to the safe came open without an effort. Mrs. Bangs was disappointed. She had expected that the safe would have to be blown open in the most approved burglar fashion, and was wondering what bill for damages she could render. "You must have known the combination," she said, tartly, to the safe opener. "This is my business," was the quiet answer. The constable, with Mr. Bartlett's aid, went through all the papers in the safe. Of course the all-important documents were not found. "Well?" asked the lawyer, after a long wait. "They are not here," replied Mr. Bartlett. He felt sick at heart over his failure to bring the papers to light. "Not here!" "No, they must have been removed." The library was searched, and then a look was taken through the whole house. Mrs. Bangs followed the men everywhere. "You shall suffer for this outrage," she said to Mr. Bartlett several times. "I presume I shall have to stand for what I have done," he answered, meekly. "Of one thing I am certain, Mrs. Bangs. Your husband has those papers, or else he has destroyed them." "You can say what you please, Mr. Bangs is an honest man and a gentleman," retorted the fashionable woman. At last there was nothing left to do but to leave the mansion, which Mr. Bartlett did with reluctance. "I am afraid I have made a mess of it," he said to his lawyer. "I was certain we would find those papers." "I am afraid you have hurt your case, Mr. Bartlett," answered the legal light, bluntly. "Bangs will now be on his guard and will take good care to keep those papers away from you." "Perhaps he has destroyed them." "That is not unlikely, since it would do him small good to keep them." "What do you advise me to do next?" "You had better wait and see what develops," said the lawyer. The safe opener and the constable were paid off and Philip Bartlett returned to Albany in anything but a happy frame of mind. A day or two later he called upon Randy, when the steamboat tied up at the dock for the night. "My fat is in the fire," he said to our hero, and told of his failure to locate the missing documents. "Mr. Bartlett, I am sure Mr. Bangs said the papers were in his safe!" cried Randy. "He must have taken them out when he returned home." "You can be a witness if the matter is brought into court?" "Of course. I remember very well all I heard." "Well, that is something," answered Philip Bartlett, hopefully. He went home and the next day received a strong letter from Amos Bangs denouncing him for the action he had taken. Part of the letter ran as follows: "I should sue you for damages, only I do not wish to drag you into court on account of your wife and family. In the future you need expect no favors from me. I am done with you. If you want to sell your stock in the iron company I will give you the market price, not a cent more. Remember, I shall be on my guard against you in the future, and if you dare to molest me again you shall take the consequences." "He will do what he can to ruin us," said Mrs. Bartlett when her husband read the letter to her. "I suppose so." "What is the market price of the stock?" "It has no regular market value now. Bangs will buy it for about ten cents on the dollar." "Oh, Philip, that is so little!" "I'll not sell the stock," said Mr. Bartlett. "I'd rather lose every cent than play into Amos Bangs's hands!" _ |
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