CHAPTER IV.
UNCLE ELLIS COOLS DOWN.
The moment that Clyde had locked the door on his uncle, he felt sorry for it. It was a mistake to push his uncle. True, it was a gentle push, and Mr. Ellis would probably have reeled through the doorway of his own accord, but, for all that, it was an act of defiance.
It was the first time that the boy had ever rebelled. He had stood much from Mr. Ellis, and taken it all as a matter-of-course, but, for once, his anger had got the better of him.
It was a blunder, also, to throw out that insinuation about the ten thousand dollars. Clyde realized this perfectly. He wished now that he not done it, and would have recalled his hasty words had it been possible. But the deed had been done, and the consequences of it, whatever they might be, were sure to come.
What was to be done now? Clyde asked himself this question as he stood there before the bolted door, flushed with excitement. He looked at his brother, who was almost as excited as he was, and had started to his feet, only to remain there mute and motionless. It was all a mystery to Ray, who now heard the reference to the ten thousand dollars for the first time.
But there was little time for thought. Uncle Ellis quickly recovered his self control, and, a moment after the door had been bolted on him, was knocking vigorously for admittance.
His demand was not immediately obeyed, but it aroused Clyde to action, if it did nothing else. The money was still lying on the table. What was to be done with it?
"Here, you rascals, let me in! Do you hear?" thundered the angry man.
There was a vicious thump upon the door, which threatened serious results if repeated many times.
"Open this door, or I will break it down!"
Clyde knew that his uncle could do this, if he made up his mind to it, and the knowledge did not tend to increase his feeling of security. But that money!
He looked around the room hastily for a hiding place. The house was heated in the winter by a furnace, and there was a register in the boys' room. This would offer a safe depository.
Quickly sweeping the money into his handkerchief, he tied the four corners of it with a piece of twine that he carried in his pocket, and, lifting the iron register from its bed, hung the little bundle in the hole.
It was the work of but an instant to make the twine fast so that money and all would not roll down the tin pipe. There was little chance that the hiding-place would be discovered.
"I say! Are you going to let me in, or shall I break down the door?" demanded the man on the outside again.
Clyde did not know what to say, and so he said nothing. This perhaps proved to be the wisest plan, for, after another vigorous thump at the door, Uncle Ellis suddenly changed his policy. He no longer demanded admittance; he asked it.
"See here, you boys," he said, and his voice sunk from its high and angry tones to a softer and lower key. "See here, you boys; I don't want to hurt you. This is a mistake. I can come in there in about one minute if I want to; and if I do have to break this door down, some one will have to suffer for it. But if you will open it peacefully I will promise not to touch you. I didn't intend to do that, anyway."
Clyde looked at Ray, who was still mystified by the proceedings, and as yet unable to comprehend why his uncle had so suddenly collapsed.
"I think we shall have to do it, won't we?" he asked.
Ray nodded his acquiescence.
Clyde advanced cautiously to the door, and turned the key gingerly, as if he still doubted his uncle's promise. Then he retreated quickly to the table and sat down in a chair. Mr. Ellis opened the door and walked in quietly. His face was still very pale, and Clyde noticed that his fingers twitched nervously. It was evident that he was having a hard time to control his feelings.
"I did not expect this treatment when I came up here this evening," he began. "I came up merely to see you, and to find out how you were getting along. I thought perhaps I had been neglecting you boys of late."
Clyde looked at his brother in astonishment, and Ray returned his glance with something like a smile playing around his lips. Such talk from Uncle Ellis was unheard of.
The younger brother did not pretend to account for it, but Clyde quickly got an idea. Lycurgus Sharp, the lawyer, had advised Mr. Ellis to treat the boys kindly, in order to get their forgiveness, should the guardian prove to be short in his accounts. Could it be possible that the harsh uncle had determined to adopt this plan?
"I had very good intentions when I started," continued Mr. Ellis, trying very hard to make his voice sound pleasant, "but when I saw you counting that money I became excited. As I told you, sums of money have been stolen from me of late, and I cannot account for their loss. This was one of the things I wanted to talk to you about, and to get you to help me find the thief. When I saw you with that money, I naturally supposed that you had been helping yourselves occasionally."
"You thought we couldn't have come by it honestly, because you never gave us anything," suggested Clyde, who could not refrain from giving his uncle this sly dig.
Mr. Ellis smiled a dismal smile.
"But I find I am mistaken," he went on, not attempting to reply to the bit of sarcasm. "I am glad to know that you made that money honestly, for I shall take your word for it."
This was so much more than either of the boys had expected that they began to look upon their uncle as an enigma hard to solve.
"There is one thing that I would like to speak of," added Mr. Ellis; and Clyde thought that his face suddenly became whiter, and that his fingers twitched even more nervously than before. "May I sit down?"
"Why, certainly," replied the boy, amazed at this mark of politeness. "Excuse me for not offering you a chair. Take this rocker."
And he dragged up his favorite chair and offered it to his guardian with a bow.
Mr. Ellis accepted it.
"You made some reference when I was in here—in here before," continued the latter, "to a certain ten thousand dollars. Will you tell me what you meant?"
It was Clyde's turn now to become nervous. He would have liked to have escaped that, but he was in for it now.
"I—I didn't mean to say what I did," he pleaded.
"Yes, but you did say it, and I would like to have it explained."
And Mr. Ellis clutched the arm of his chair with his right hand, and hung on to it, while he tried to push the chair into a gentle rock with one of his feet.
Clyde looked his uncle straight in the eye. The latter avoided the glance, and turned his attention to the floor.
"To be perfectly plain with you, uncle," said Clyde, "I must tell you that you have never cared to enlighten us about the property you hold in trust. But I know all about it now, and I have discovered that something like ten thousand dollars is missing."
It was a bold speech, and Clyde was doubtful how it would be received. But it did not bring out the angry storm that might have been expected.
Instead, Mr. Ellis merely rose from his chair and began to pace the floor uneasily. He put his hand to his heart as if there was pain there that he wished to stifle. His steps were unsteady.
Meanwhile Ray looked on in perfect astonishment. He stared at his brother, then followed his uncle with open-mouthed wonder.
CLYDE DREW A CHAIR UP TO THE TABLE AND SAT DOWN.
"NOW," SAID THE BROKER, "GO ON."
"You have discovered that, have you?" said the latter, pausing for a moment before the chair in which Clyde was sitting. "May I ask how such a sum could be missing?"
"When a man speculates in wheat, and buys for a rise in price, and the price suddenly falls, he loses money, sometimes as much as ten thousand dollars."
Uncle Ellis staggered into his chair, and sat there nervously clutching at the arms on both sides.
"Do you dare to charge me with losing in speculation ten thousand dollars that do not belong to me?" he gasped.
"I have not made any charges, have I?" asked Clyde.
He could not help pitying his uncle in spite of the fact that he detested him.
"I hope you won't do it, either," and Mr. Ellis' voice sunk almost to a whisper. "It is not so. What enemy could have told you this lie? It certainly was not Mr. Sh—" Mr. Ellis cast a frightened glance at his nephew and stopped short. "This is a very serious thing," he added, impressively. "I trust you realize the enormity of what you are saying. Since your father was drowned, I have been a father to you and Ray. I have taken care of you in my house—"
"In our house, you mean," corrected Clyde.
"Well, yes, have it so, if you like. I have tried to do my duty by you, and this is what I get for it. I have watched over your interests and have guarded the money left in trust with zealous care. This is unexpected. Some enemy has been poisoning your mind against me. Believe me, there is not a word of truth in it."
"Then the money is intact, is it?" questioned Clyde.
"Entirely so. See here; I will prove it to you. Since you have heard these dreadful stories, I must clear myself. Should I take you to my lawyer and let you read the will, show you just the amount of money left and then let you see with your own eyes that everything is safe, would you be satisfied?"
"Certainly I would, uncle."
"Very well; I shall do this to-morrow or next day. Meanwhile, you must promise me that you will not talk about this to anybody. It would ruin me should a whisper of such an outrageous charge get out. Will you promise not to say anything until you have seen with your own eyes that all is right?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well; then you shall know all about it in a very little while."
Uncle Ellis looked much relieved. A bit of color was coming back to his cheek, and he rose to his feet with a little more steadiness.
"I shall rely on you both to protect my good name," he said, in parting. "Good-night." And he walked from the room.
Ray drew a long sigh when he had gone.
"Clyde, is it true," he asked, "that uncle has lost ten thousand dollars?"
"Yes, Ray. I wouldn't have believed it had I not heard him confess it with his own lips. He took it from the money that father left us and sunk it in speculating."
"One more thing, Clyde. Why did you want to count the money we have? You said it was for something very important."
"And so it is. Ray, you and I have got lots of work ahead of us. But I mustn't stop to tell you about it now. Uncle is not telling the truth, and is up to something, I am sure. I must find out what it is. He won't let the night pass without hatching up some scheme to pull the wool over my eyes. You stay around here and keep watch, and if he leaves the house I will follow him."
CHAPTER V.
UNCLE ELLIS SEEKS ADVICE.
Clyde stole down the stairs carefully and listened at the head of the flight leading from the hall. As he had suspected, Uncle Ellis was going out. He had just taken his hat from the rack and was walking toward the door.
Clyde waited until his uncle had reached the street, and then followed. The bright moon had gone behind a bank of clouds, but from the piazza he could make out his uncle's form moving slowly up the street.
The house faced on the avenue running at right angles to the water. It was situated midway between two streets which crossed it and ran through the heart of the town, but a short distance away.
One of these streets Mr. Ellis turned into, and Clyde quickly took the other one. He could move faster than his uncle, and by hurrying he could reach the main street ahead of him.
This he did, and was awaiting his uncle behind a door not far from the post office.
The post office was in a small building and occupied the lower floor. A stairway next to the office ran to the second floor, and opening from the hallway above was a small room, in which Mr. Lycurgus Sharp had his office. There was a balcony in front of the lawyer's office.
Mr. Lycurgus Sharp was hanging about the post office, talking politics, when Mr. Ellis reached that point.
Clyde was firmly convinced that his worthy uncle and the lawyer would be in consultation before long, and he was also convinced that the topic of conversation would be the ten thousand dollars. He was even more firmly convinced that he was right when the two men came out of the post office and walked up the stairs to the lawyer's room above.
Clyde did not like the idea of playing the spy, but if his uncle was engaged in a scheme to rob him, he certainly had a right to know it, and, with no twinges of conscience, he stole up the stairs, and when all was quiet he crawled out upon the balcony.
The night was hot, and Mr. Sharp's window was partially raised, but protected by a blind.
"Those confounded boys have discovered everything," Clyde heard his uncle say. "I would like to know how they did it. You haven't been talking, have you?"
"What! Me talk? Me, did you say?" exclaimed Mr. Lycurgus Sharp, dramatically.
"Then how did they find out that I have been speculating?" demanded the other, sharply.
The lawyer shrugged his shoulders.
"That's your lookout," he said, carelessly. "Perhaps they overheard us talking this afternoon."
"Great Scott! I hope not," cried Mr. Ellis, excitedly. "No, I don't believe that! No one was around at the time. I think they must have heard a rumor somewhere—where, I don't know, but would give a heap to find out. If those boys get a notion like that they will spread it everywhere, and I shall be ruined. What can I do to stop them off?"
The lawyer shrugged his shoulders again.
"I have promised to show them the will and explain where all the money is," added Mr. Ellis.
"Which you can't do," broke in the lawyer, abruptly.
"Which is only a blind to gain time," the other frowned. "I am sorry I ever got into this speculation now; but I am in it, and I have got to make that money good, somehow. I can do it in time, I am sure; but if these boys get to talking, I can't tell what will happen."
"Well," said Mr. Sharp, "I suppose you must get rid of them for a time. That is about what you are driving at, I apprehend?"
"That's about the size of it, but how?"
Mr. Sharp picked up a newspaper that was lying on his table and turned to the shipping advertisements.
"I see here," he said, "the advertisement of a vessel to sail to-morrow for Australia."
"What of that?"
"What of that! Why, everything of that. Can't you see through a barn-door, when the door is open for you?"
"You mean, send the boys to Australia?"
The lawyer nodded.
"Could you want anything better? They would be gone a long time. You can take them to New York to-morrow and ship them off in the afternoon. Put them before the mast. Make sailors out of them."
"Nobody would take them for sailors," remarked Mr. Ellis, doubtfully.
"What of that? Go to the captain and tell him that you have two boys who are wild. Tell him you don't want to send them to the reform school, but would like to have them put under the discipline of a big ship. Pay him to take them, and he will jump at the chance, and break them in for you, I'll warrant."
Clyde's cheeks burned with resentment. His heart was going like a trip-hammer. Could it be possible that his uncle would lend himself to such a villainous scheme? He could scarcely refrain from jumping through the window and denouncing the plotters to their very faces.
He did not have to wait long to discover his uncle's sentiments.
"Sharp," said Mr. Ellis, "you have a great head. I do admire you, upon my word! If I had one-half of your ability for villainy, I would have been rich long ago."
"Thank you," retorted the lawyer, coolly. "But you can bet that I never used other people's money to speculate with."
"The less said about that the better," replied the other. "I shall pull out of this all right if I am given time. But now to business. How am I going to get those boys aboard? They may suspect something."
"Oh, well, if you haven't got any inventive faculty at all, you had better quit, go down on your knees, ask your nephews' pardon, and live happily ever after. To tell you plainly, that is just what I would do. But if you are dead set on getting rid of them, why, I am paid to give you advice, and here it is. You have promised to show them the will to-morrow. Tell them that it is necessary to go to New York to see it. There you can take them to some office for a blind, and, while you are there, you can have a letter sent to you, or pretend to have, from an old friend who is going to Australia and wants you to see him off. It will be the easiest thing in the world to ask the boys to accompany you, and, once aboard, you can lock them up, and there they are."
"That's the talk. They shall be there," exclaimed the delighted speculator.
"Only they won't," thought Clyde, from his perch in front of the window.
"Look here," said Mr. Ellis, nervously. "Since this thing has begun, I am suspicious of everything. No one could have heard us, could they?"
"The door is shut, as you see," replied the lawyer, "and I don't think anybody saw us come up here."
"The window is open," suggested Mr. Ellis.
He got up from his chair and walked to the door.
Clyde saw him open it and leave it open, then turn to the window as if he meant to do the same thing with it.
The boy was in a trap. It would never do to be caught there. To think with him was to act. He stepped over the balcony and hung from the floor by his hands. There was no one on the sidewalk beneath, and, letting go, he dropped lightly to the ground, just as his uncle stepped out upon the balcony above.
He pulled himself into a shadow and stood motionless.
Mr. Ellis was apparently suspicions. Perhaps he had heard something. At all events, he looked down and up and in all directions without becoming any wiser for it.
The moment his head disappeared from sight, Clyde stole away. He was hot with excitement and anger.
CHAPTER VI.
CLYDE AND RAY PRISONERS.
James T. Leeds, broker, sat upon the veranda of the seaside hotel, with his feet on the railing and his chair tilted back.
He was at peace with himself and with all the world. In fact, the world had been treating him nicely of late. His "flyers" in Wall Street and in the wheat market had been successful. He had been making money rapidly, and this is why he smiled as he lighted his cigar.
Mr. Leeds liked the little seaside town, and was sure to drop in upon it as soon as the warm weather set in.
It was so near New York that he could reach the city in a few minutes. He had expected to get a good deal of enjoyment out of the yacht that he had bought, but, as we have already seen, it had proved a dismal failure.
He could not learn to manage it himself, and if the water was at all rough the motion made him sick. So he had reluctantly come to the conclusion that the water had no charms for him.
Mr. Leeds was in the midst of a calculation of his profits of the next day, should Erie Railroad stock jump up a couple of points, as he confidently expected that it would do, when a boy, panting and red in the face, suddenly appeared by his side.
"Hullo, Clyde! What is the matter with you now?" he inquired.
And his feet came down from off the railing and the legs of the chair settled upon the plank with a thump.
"I—I want to speak to you," panted the boy.
"Well, speak away. I'm listening."
Clyde shook his head.
"No, not here," he said, with due regard to the danger of talking over private matters where an unsuspected ear might be within hearing distance. "This is very important."
"It must be," said the broker, with a little laugh. "Well, come to my room."
The broker led the way to a room that looked out upon the water.
Clyde walked to the window to see that there were no convenient porches, and then drew a chair up to the table and sat down.
"Now," said the broker, "go on."
Clyde hesitated a moment. He really did not know how to begin. Finally be got started:
"Mr. Leeds, you said to-day that you had got tired of the yacht, did you not?"
"That's what I said," replied the broker. "Did you bring me up here to tell me that?"
"You said you were going to sell the Orion, did you not?"
"No, I did not. I said I was going to smash her up. But I have thought better of that. I'm going to load her up with pitch and anchor her off in the stream and set fire to her. I am going to do that on the Fourth of July, and have a celebration all to myself. Won't that be fun?"
"I thought you would perhaps take her around to New York and sell her. If you were going to do that—"
"Oh, but I'm not going to do anything of the sort. I am not in the yacht-selling business. I wouldn't be bothered with her. But what is all this about, anyway?"
"Well, then, to come to the point, I want to buy her."
"You want to buy her! Well, that is a good one. Do you know what I paid for the Orion?"
"No, sir."
"Well, she cost me just one thousand dollars. How much are you willing to give for her?"
Mr. Leeds looked at the well-worn garments of the would-be purchaser and smiled.
"What will you sell her for?" asked Clyde.
"Come, now, is this a joke, or what?" grinned the broker. "Has your uncle suddenly opened his heart, or have you come into possession of your property?"
"Neither," replied the boy, gravely, "but if you will sell me the yacht on a note—"
"On a note, eh? Well, isn't this rich? What is your note worth?"
"Nothing, I know, Mr. Leeds; but it will be some day. I can't pay you now, but when I am old enough to draw a note I will pay it."
The broker looked at the boy steadily for a moment.
"Clyde, something is up," he said. "What is it?"
"It all comes out of that 'pointer' you gave me this afternoon. I am going to leave home to escape being driven away."
"Phew!" whistled the broker. "Tell me about it."
And Clyde went over the whole story from beginning to end, and gave a graphic description of the plot to send him to Australia.
"Well, this is about the worst I ever heard," was Mr. Leeds' comment, when the recital was finished. "I couldn't have believed your uncle would have gone to such extremities. Well, we must block that game. We can haul him into court and prove a conspiracy."
"No," objected Clyde, "that wouldn't do at all. Of course, my uncle would deny the whole thing, and then, when it had all blown over, off I would go."
"But what do you intend to do?"
"I believe that my father is still alive. One of the men who was with him thinks it is possible. I shall never be satisfied until I have made an investigation, and I want to take him and go to the Caribbean Sea. I thought if you would sell me the yacht on credit I would go."
"Well, I won't sell the Orion," declared the broker.
Clyde's hopeful countenance fell.
"I said I wouldn't, and I won't. But you can have her, and everything aboard of her—that is, if she is fit to go on such a cruise."
Clyde's eyes filled with tears.
"You are too good. I can't take it unless you will let me pay for it when I can."
"Nonsense! Don't talk that way. I never was good in my life, and I think it won't hurt me any to do a little thing like that. The Orion is of no use to me, and, unless you do take her, I shall run her on the rocks and set her on fire, as sure as I am alive. But what are you going to do for money? You can't go anywhere without money?"
"Ray and I have got thirty dollars between us."
"Thirty fiddlesticks! Here," and the broker pulled out a well-filled pocket-book and counted out some bills—"here are three hundred dollars. You will have to fit the yacht up for a long cruise. There! don't make any objections. I owe you something for helping me out of a bad scrape to-day. You can promise to pay me if you like, and, when you come into possession of your property, you can do so. But never mind the note. It isn't worth anything, anyway, and I can trust you, I'm sure. Now, who is this man that you say will go with you?"
"I don't know his name. Tom, the fisherman, calls him Old Ben. He was the boatswain on my father's ship."
"Well, I want to see him. Come with me."
The two strolled over to the fisherman's cabin, where Tom and Ben were found smoking their pipes and telling each other sea stories. It did not take Mr. Leeds long to come to the point, and, when the whole story had been repeated, the broker asked the fisherman whether the Orion could be relied upon to make such a trip.
"Well, there's a risk about it, of course," was the reply; "but the Orion is a mighty fine boat—mighty fine. She would stand up before a good stiff gale, and Old Ben, here, is just the man to handle her."
"Well, then, Old Ben, will you go along and run her?" asked the broker.
"Now, I ain't a holdin' out any promises that we will find the cap'n," and the old salt shook his head. "It's my opinion that the chances is all agin' it. But if the youngster wants to go, and as Tom says the boat is a good one, why, I don't mind makin' the trip. It may be there is something behind it all and that the cap'n is still alive; but, as I said—"
"I don't ask you to go for nothing, you understand," interrupted the broker.
He took out his pocket-book again and selected five twenty-dollar bills.
"You don't make more than twelve or fifteen dollars a month before the mast. Here are one hundred dollars, and if you find the cap'n, there is more for you."
"Thankee, sir," said the boatswain, with a bob of the head. "But I didn't expect that. I would have gone without it. Yes, I will go, and we will find the cap'n, if he's in the land of the livin'. If he ain't, why, then—he ain't; and that's all there is about it."
"We shall have to get off in the morning; or, rather, as soon as possible," said Clyde, delighted with the prospect. "My uncle will have me in his clutches to-morrow, and if he gets hold of me there may be trouble."
"I think that is the best way," approved the broker. "You will need some stores, but you cannot get them here. You will have to run in to New York and take them aboard."
"Yes, that's right," assented Old Ben.
"And you had better take out papers that will allow you to cruise as a yacht. I will have the Orion made over to Clyde, so he will be your owner, and you will find him a good sailor as well."
"If he is anything like his father, he will do," said the boatswain. "Well, Tom and me will overhaul the yacht, and I will go aboard at once. Just as soon as the cap'n boards us we will start."
"That's the way I like to hear a man talk," commented the broker. "I will go back to the hotel and turn the yacht over to Clyde, in writing, and bring it to the Orion myself. Now, Clyde, go and get ready, and return some time before morning."
"I will be there!"
And the happy boy sped away toward home with visions of all sorts of adventures flitting before his imagination.
He had found his father half a dozen times before he reached his room on the third floor, and broke in on his brother with his face flushed with excitement.
"Get ready, Ray," he cried.
"Get ready for what?" asked his surprised brother.
"To go to sea. We are going on a long cruise."
"Look here, Clyde Ellis, are you crazy?"
"Not a bit of it," replied Clyde, cheerily. "Listen."
And rapidly he detailed the occurrences of the day. Before he had quite finished there was a step in the hall, and a moment later Uncle Ellis appeared at the doorway.
"Not gone to bed yet?" he asked.
He seemed to be laboring under a heavy strain, and it was with difficulty that he controlled himself.
"Not yet," replied Clyde.
And his heart sunk like the mercury in the thermometer upon the approach of a cold wave, a presentiment of coming danger.
"You have been out to-night?" queried the uncle.
"Yes, sir."
"Where have you been?"
And his uncle eyed him sternly.
"I have been over to the hotel."
"Where else?"
"Oh, around town a bit!"
"I am almost afraid to trust you after what you told me this evening. After I have shown you the will to-morrow, which I will do in New York, I have no fears that you will talk; but, until then, I think it best to keep you under my eye. To-morrow you shall know all."
Clyde thought it very likely that his uncle would also be the wiser in the morning, but he did not say so.
Mr. Ellis pulled the key from the door and placed it in the lock on the outside; then he stepped out and closed the door after him. The next instant he had turned the key, and his retreating footsteps were heard along the hallway.
Clyde jumped to his feet and tried the door. It was firmly locked.
He staggered back to the bed and threw himself upon it, burying his face in his hands.
"Trapped!" he cried, bitterly. "Just when everything is ready, we are prisoners and there is no help for it!"