HAL MEETS LAURA SUMNER.
Hal was somewhat taken aback by the statement made to him by one of the proprietors of the resort he had entered, but he quickly recovered.
"It is true the mustache is false, but it is not true that I am spying upon you," he said.
And this was true, for he cared nothing as to what took place in the resort so long as it did not appertain to Mr. Allen or Hardwick.
"That's easy enough to say, but how can you prove it?" was the short reply.
"Is it necessary to prove it?" returned Hal, just as quickly.
"Well, the case is just here, we don't want spies around here."
Hal could not help but smile.
"Do you know how I learned of this resort?" he asked.
"One of the dudes who didn't know how to keep his mouth shut told you, I suppose."
"No. An old apple-stand fellow told me."
"Is that true?"
"It is. So if the police wanted to stop you they could easily do so."
The proprietor muttered something under his breath.
"Well, you are sure you don't intend to give us away, then?"
"I do not."
"What brought you?"
"Curiosity concerning a fellow who played here."
"What fellow?"
"Mr. Caleb Allen."
"What! the man who just left?"
"Yes."
"Are you spotting him?"
"Excuse me, but that's my business. He has gone, and with your permission I will follow him."
The man looked at Hal for a second in silence.
"I'll trust you, for you have the right kind of eyes. You are following Allen for a purpose, but that's none of my affair. When you go just forget all about this place, unless you want to come in some time and try a hand."
"Thank you, I don't gamble," and without another word Hal left the room and hurried down stairs.
A hasty look into the various rooms convinced him that Allen had left the building, and then Hal lost no time in doing likewise.
What he had seen disgusted him beyond measure.
"How men can stay up all night and gamble in a place like that I can't understand," he murmured to himself. "I would rather be in bed and asleep. And it stands to reason the proprietors have the best of it, otherwise how could they run such a gorgeous house?"
Hal was soon on the snow-covered pavement.
He looked up and down, but Allen was nowhere in sight.
"It is no use to try to follow him any farther to-night," thought the youth. "I may as well get home and get some sleep—but, no, I can't do that. I must find a new boarding house, and go under a different name for the present. One thing is sure. Mr. Allen can't gamble in that fashion with what he makes honestly. He and Hardwick are a couple of deep rogues, and that's all there is to it, and Dick Ferris and that Macklin are their tools."
It was now too late to hunt up a regular boarding place, and upon second thought Hal resolved for the present to put up at one of the cheap hotels.
This he did, and slept soundly until morning.
When he slouched into the office at ten o'clock, still wearing the false mustache and Jack McCabe's hat, Mr. Sumner did not at first recognize him.
"What do you want?" he asked, from the book-keeper's desk, where he was busy instructing the new man in his work.
"I wish to see you in private, sir," was Hal's reply, and he winked.
For a second Mr. Sumner was puzzled. Then he smiled and led the way to his private office.
"Hal, I hardly knew you!" he burst out, the instant the door was closed.
"I hardly know myself, Mr. Sumner," was the youth's reply.
"The mustache is almost a complete disguise."
"I have news for you. Mr. Allen was not in Philadelphia yesterday."
"No? Where, then?"
"He spent a great part of the time in the evening in a gambling-house uptown."
"You are certain?"
"Yes, sir. I followed him into the place and watched him play."
"Humph! Did he win?"
"No, sir, he lost heavily."
Horace Sumner gave something like a groan.
"I am being deceived on all sides," he said. "If a man is a gambler he is often something worse. How about Hardwick?"
"I have reason to believe he went home last night. He gave a note to Dick Ferris and I followed Ferris. It nearly cost me my life."
And Hal related the particulars. Horace Sumner listened with keen interest. When he learned how Hal had been struck down, and afterward found himself in the icy vat, he shuddered.
"That will never do," he cried. "Hal, you must give up running such risks. I would not have you lose your life for all the bonds in New York. We will call in one of the regular detectives and——"
"No, Mr. Sumner, I started on my theory and I wish to finish the work. I did not know how desperate the men were with whom I have to deal, but in the future I shall be prepared for them. And I wish to ask a favor."
"What is it?"
"Will you advance me a little money? I may need it in traveling around, and my disguises may cost——"
"You shall have what you please, Hal. You are the only one I have in the office to depend on, and you are doing a remarkable work for one so young."
"If you will let me have, say ten or fifteen dollars——"
"Here are fifty," returned Mr. Sumner, handing over five crisp ten-dollar bills. "When you need more let me know."
"But—but I won't want this much!" gasped Hal.
"Yes, you will, if you are determined to go ahead. Don't let dollars stand in the way. Why, I have already spent one hundred and fifty dollars on the detectives, and they have done absolutely nothing."
Without another word Hal pocketed the bills. As he did so there was a knock on the door, then it was flung open and a girl rushed in.
She was apparently a year or two younger than Hal, and had blue eyes, light hair, and a remarkably pretty face. She rushed up to Mr. Sumner and kissed him.
"Oh, papa, why didn't you tell me?" she burst out, with something like a sob in her voice.
"Tell you what, pet?" asked Mr. Sumner with a shadow on his face.
"About all those bonds being gone. Lucy Cavaler mentioned it to me this morning when I called on her to go shopping. Have you got them back?"
"Not yet, pet."
"And who stole them?"
"I don't know. This young man and I have just been trying to find out."
The girl turned to Hal, who took off his hat, bowed, and then blushed furiously.
"This is Mr. Hal Carson, one of my employees," went on Mr. Sumner. "Hal, this is my daughter, Laura."
Laura Sumner extended her hand, and Hal took it. Their eyes met, and from that instant the two were friends.
"You are trying to help papa find the stolen bonds?" she said.
"Yes, Miss Sumner."
"He has done some excellent work on the case," said Mr. Sumner. "He is disguised now, as you can see," he added, with a faint smile, which made poor Hal blush again.
"Oh, I trust you get the bonds back for papa," cried Laura. "If you do, I'll be friends with you for life."
"It's a whack—I mean a bargain," returned Hal, and then both laughed.
"But you haven't told me why you did not mention the matter to me, papa," went on Laura, turning to Horace Sumner.
"I did not wish to worry you, pet. Since your mother died you have had enough on your shoulders running the household."
"And haven't you had more than your share, papa, with troubles in the office, and trying to find a trace of baby Howard?"
"I have given up all hopes of ever learning of the fate of my little boy," sighed Mr. Sumner, and as he spoke a tear stole down his cheek, which he hastily brushed away.