CHAPTER VII
MYSTERY
“Hurrah—I’m coming!”
Ben Hardy began a brief but enthusiastic letter to his friend, Bob Dallow, with these words.
“It is all settled, Bob,” added Ben, “and if you are sure you won’t be put out by having me share your quarters, I can stay for the whole week. We will have a glorious time, and I am just wild to see those airship stunts you describe.”
School had closed for the long vacation on Thursday. It was now the following Monday, and Ben had his satchel packed and was counting the hours until Tuesday morning and train time should arrive.
Ben had calculated to devote the long vacation to work in the Saxton automobile plant. The pattern shop was a favorite spot with him in his visits to the great factory. He was an adept at drawing, and the foreman of the model department had given him some encouragement as to a future position. He had, however, advised Ben to wait a year or two and stick to his studies.
Mr. Hardy had done some serious thinking, and had given his son the result of the same. Ben’s success with the whistle, his evident liking for machinery, particularly of new types, had caused Mr. Hardy to recall his own early dreams and longings before he became a master machinist.
What pleased the father most was the way Ben went at aeronautics. The evening after Bob Dallow left Woodville, Mr. Hardy came home to find Ben seated before a stand piled high with reading matter, and deeply absorbed in a big volume from the town library.
“Airships, Ben?” inquired his father with an indulgent smile.
“One end of them,” responded Ben. “I’ve ransacked the town for books and magazines bearing on the subject, and as you see I have got a raft of them. They cover mostly the history end of the business, though. I wish I had some of the up-to-date books Mr. Davis showed me.”
“What you read now will fit in all right to that later,” remarked Mr. Hardy. “Get as familiar as you can with your subject in a general way, Ben. You manage the theoretical end of the business, and when you come back from the aero meet we will join forces on a practical demonstration of the science.”
“Will you, father?” pressed Ben eagerly.
“By the time you get back I will screen off a space next to the work shed, and we will see what we can do in making an airship,” continued Mr. Hardy. “You have talked over the subject so much, I am inclined to take a flier myself—not up in the air, Ben, but in an inventive way.”
Ben was more filled with enthusiasm than ever after that. He had been made doubly happy during the week at receiving a handsome watch, bearing a pleasing testimonial in script on its inner case, for his bravery in saving the auto works from possible wreck.
Ben was not troubled any further by Dave Shallock. He heard that his father, the discharged engineer, was loafing about some low drinking places in the town. Shallock was making all kinds of foolish boasts as to his ability to get a new and better place from “old Saxton,” as he designated him. He hinted at a certain powerful influence he had with the manufacturer. So far his bragging had brought no results.
That evening, just about dusk, our hero started from home after supper for a downtown stroll. There was a short cut across a square which had once held a handsome residence, burned down a few months previous.
The high hedge fence, broken in places, still lined the front of the grounds. As Ben neared this he paused, quite startled. Some one had made a bold rush through the hedge and crouched in a stealthy manner on its other side, as if trying to hide.
“Why,” murmured Ben in some astonishment, drawing behind a bush, “it is Tom Shallock!”
Ben wondered what the discharged engineer was up to. He soon learned the motive of his sudden rush from the public street. Almost immediately a sharp mandatory voice beyond the hedge shouted out:
“That will do, Shallock—you come out here, if you want to save trouble.”
“Oh, is that you?” stammered Shallock, and he sheepishly retraced his steps to the sidewalk.
“You knew it was, and you tried to sneak away from me, didn’t you?” challenged the stormy voice.
Ben was curious enough to press close up to the hedge and peer through it. Shallock stood leaning in a shambling way outside, a crestfallen expression on his face. The man addressing him was a very keen-eyed fellow Ben had never seen before. He was a stranger in Woodville. He carried a whip in one hand, and Ben wondered why this was.
“Now then,” spoke the stranger, “what does this mean? You’ve been trying to keep out of my way for two hours, and I know it. That worthless cub boy of yours sent me off on a false hunt.”
“I—I wasn’t prepared to see you,” said Shallock shiftily.
“Why not?”
“Well, then, I knew what you came after.”
“Yes, money.”
“Exactly. I had none. I know you’re a hard man, and I hoped you’d let me alone for a few days longer.”
“See here, Shallock,” spoke the other sharply, “I’ve got just one last warning to give you. Produce one hundred dollars, and get it quick, or I’ll close down on you bag and baggage.”
Shallock began to snivel in a maudlin way. He had been drinking, and he began to deplore his unhappy lot. He was an unfortunate target of fate. He had lost his job. His grocery credit had been stopped only that day, and he had been obliged to sell some of his wife’s jewelry to buy food for the family.
“Not food, but drink for yourself, you mean,” derided the stranger testily. “Now then, I’m tired of waiting for that money. I loaned it to you on a promise of repayment due months ago.”
“I can’t pay when I haven’t got it, can I?” demurred Shallock.
“You can get money out of Jasper Saxton.”
“Ha! yes—yes, indeed,” spurted up Shallock eagerly. “Say, that’s just what I’m working on. Honestly, if you’ll consent not to trouble me for a week, I’ll not only have the best job in the Saxton machine shops, but a lot of ready cash besides.”
“I don’t know that,” remarked the stranger.
“Yes, you do,” disputed Shallock. “You know that Saxton has got to fix me out right, or lose a fortune.”
“I’d like to see some of your boasted fortune right now,” sneered the man.
“Oh, it’s coming. Don’t press me too hard, and make me spoil the whole business. You shall have double interest. I’ll promise you faithfully to settle the whole business in a month. See here, you can’t possibly lose. Why, if I failed you, all you’ve got to do is to take that security of mine and go to Saxton with it.”
“I don’t fancy mixing up in a blackmailing game,” observed the stranger. “Now then, Shallock, I’ll give you a last chance. You arrange your business so you can pay me one hundred dollars a week from to-day, the balance by the first of the month, or I’ll foreclose on your security.”
“It’s a bargain,” declared Shallock, in a tone of hopeful relief. “Yes, sir, if I don’t carry out just that agreement, you can take your security to old Saxton.”
“Oh, no,” said the stranger in a deep decisive voice, “I’ll take it to Martin Hardy.”
Ben was startled at this last declaration. Shallock uttered a gasp and put out his hands pleadingly.
“Don’t do that,” he begged in a husky tone, “say, don’t do that!”
“You’ve heard me,” replied the stranger, turning his back on Shallock and crossing the street. “I’ll do just what I say if you don’t raise that money!”
“What does this mean?” exclaimed Ben in an excited tone. “Here’s some dark plotting, and I’m going to get at the bottom of this.”
He ran along the inside at the hedge, passed through it at a break, and observed the stranger just turning the corner of the side street.
As Ben in turn reached it, the crack of the whip rang out. A sharp “Get up!” sent a mettled horse attached to a light gig carrying the stranger away in a flash. Our hero outdistanced, reluctantly admitted to himself that for the present at least he had lost the clew of a big mystery.