HAL'S BOLD SCHEME.
Hal could not help but feel a keen interest in the conversation between Mr. Sumner and his daughter. Evidently there was some deep family sorrow behind the words that had been uttered.
He stood respectfully by until Laura turned to him suddenly.
"Excuse me, but I suppose I interrupted you when I came in."
"No, I had about finished," replied Hal. "You have no further instructions?" he continued, turning to Mr. Sumner.
"No, save that you must keep from trouble, Hal."
"I will keep my eyes open, sir."
"Then that is all."
"For the present, you will get along without me in the office, I hope."
"Yes. The new book-keeper is a very rapid man, and we shall not attempt to do anything more until Mr. Allen and I dissolve partnership."
"Then I will go. Good-day, Miss Sumner," and with a deep bow Hal withdrew.
"What a nice young man!" murmured Laura, as the outer door closed.
"He is little more than a boy, pet," said her father. "That mustache he wears is a false one."
"Why, papa?"
"He is playing a part. He is a very smart young man."
"I am glad to hear it. Where did you meet him?"
"It was he who saved my life the night I told you of."
"Indeed! That was grand of him. But, papa," Laura's voice grew serious, "these missing bonds—are they going—going to ruin you?"
Horace Sumner turned away.
"If they are not recovered, yes," he answered, in a low tone.
"My poor papa!"
"They are worth seventy-nine thousand dollars, and that, coupled with some bad investments made through Allen, will send me to the wall."
"Can nothing be done to get the bonds back?"
"I am doing everything I can. Besides Carson, there are two regular detectives from the department on the case, and a private man from the agency."
"Then all together ought to bring in a good result."
"We will hope for the best, Laura," said the old broker, bravely.
"If you do not recover the bonds, cannot you get outside help to tide over the crisis?"
"I could have done so years ago. But I find that I made a big mistake in going into partnership with Caleb Allen. While many are willing to help me individually, they do not trust Allen, and therefore will not now assist me."
"Is Mr. Allen, then, such a bad man?"
"I don't know how bad he is. He is in with Hardwick, so Carson says, and Hardwick is a villain."
At the mention of the ex-book-keeper's name, Laura drew herself up.
"I never liked him, papa, and I am glad to find that you have discovered his true character."
Horace Sumner looked in surprise at his daughter.
"Why, pet, I do not understand you."
"Then let me tell you something. For the past two months Mr. Hardwick has been paying his addresses to me, and—"
"Laura!"
"Yes, it's so. I did not mention it to you, because I did not wish to humiliate him. I told him there was no hope for him, and asked him to drop the matter."
"And has the villain done so?"
"Partly, but he frequently follows me about when he gets the chance, and I do not like it."
"If he does so in the future I'll cowhide him," cried Horace Sumner. "But I have discovered his true character, and sent him off, and in the future I imagine he will not dare approach you."
"If he does not, I will be thankful, papa."
Horace Sumner passed his hand over his brow, and heaved a deep sigh.
"Everything seems to go wrong of late years," he said. "The disappearance of little Howard has undermined my whole prosperity."
"And you have given up looking for him?" questioned Laura.
"Yes. What is the use? I have had detectives on the case for years, and it has cost me thousands of dollars."
"And they have learned nothing?"
"Nothing further than that a man took the child to Philadelphia."
"They could not trace him in that city?"
"No. The half-decomposed body of a man was found, a month later, in the Schuylkill River, and the detectives thought it must be his remains."
"But there was no child with him?"
"No, nor had the police seen anything of the little one."
"Howard must be dead," said Laura, softly, and her blue eyes filled with tears.
"I am afraid so," returned the father; and then the subject changed.
Meanwhile Hal had left the outer office and hurried up Nassau Street in the direction of Park Row. On a previous visit to this vicinity he had noticed a first-class costumer's establishment, where everything in the shape of a disguise could be bought.
At the door he hesitated for a moment, and then entered with a brisk step.
A fat, pleasant-looking man came to wait on him.
"I wish to obtain a perfect disguise," Hal explained. "Something for my face, besides some clothing."
"Yes, sir. What sort of a character?"
"A young business man."
"Please step this way."
Hal stepped to the rear of the establishment. Here fully half an hour was spent in selecting this thing and that, and trying the effect before the mirror.
At last the business was finished, and Hal came forth looking for all the world like a spruce clerk of twenty or twenty-two. He wore a silken mustache and small mutton-chop whiskers, and the color of his skin was several shades paler than was natural.
The cheap suit and overcoat he had worn were cast aside, and a nobby check outfit took their place.
"Gracious! I hardly know myself!" he murmured. "This ought to deceive almost anybody."
Hal had only rented the things. He was to pay two dollars a day for them, besides leaving a deposit of forty dollars for their safe return.
When this transaction was finished the youth visited a hardware store, and there bought a pistol and some cartridges.
"Now, I imagine I am ready for them," he said to himself. "Although I sincerely hope I will not have occasion to draw the pistol."
Once out on the sidewalk Hal did not know exactly how to proceed. He was about to take an elevated train to Allen's house uptown, when looking toward the entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge, he caught sight of Dick Ferris standing at the foot of the elevated railroad stairs, smoking his usual cigarette.
Hal approached him, and then passed by. Ferris looked at him, but not the faintest gleam of recognition passed over his features.
"He is deceived, at any rate," thought Hal. "I wonder if he is waiting for somebody, or merely hanging around? I think I will remain for a while and find out."
Hal crossed Park Row, and took up a stand by the railing to City Hall Park. A gang of men were clearing off the snow, and the street-cars and wagons were running in all directions, making the scene a lively one.
Presently an elevated train rolled in at the station, and in a moment a stream of people came down the stairs on both sides of the street.
Hal saw Ferris straighten up, and keep his eyes on the crowd.
"That settles it; he is looking for somebody," was Hal's mental conclusion. "Now, I'll wait and see if it isn't Hardwick."
The crowd passed by. Ferris had met no one, and he resumed his old stand, and puffed away as before.
Presently another train rolled in. Again Ferris watched out. In a moment he had halted a man wrapped up in an immense ulster, and with his hat pulled far down over his eyes.
Hal once more crossed the street. He passed Ferris, and saw that the man the tall boy had stopped was Caleb Allen.
Hal was surprised at this. He was under the impression that Allen used the Sixth Avenue elevated to come down from his home. Had the broker spent the night away from home, instead of going to that place after leaving the gambling den?
Standing not over fifteen feet away, Hal saw Ferris talk earnestly to Allen for fully five minutes. Then the broker put his hand in his vest pocket, and passed over several bank bills. This was followed by a small package from his overcoat pocket, which the tall boy quickly placed in his breast.
"I wonder what that package contains?" mused Hal, as the two separated.
Allen continued on the way downtown, calling a cab for that purpose. Hal felt certain the broker was going to the office, so there was no use of following him for the present.
He turned to Ferris and saw the tall youth stride up Park Row, and then turn into a side street.
"Is it possible he is going to see Macklin again?" was Hal's comment.
Such seemed to be Ferris' purpose, and it left Hal in perplexity as to whether he should follow or not.
Then he thought of his mission, and a bold plan came into his mind.
"I will follow," he said to himself. "The only way to get at the bottom of the tin box mystery is to learn of all the plans this band of evil-doers form."