“But didn’t you get worried when noon came and the supposed Dave didn’t return with them?” questioned the son.
“Yes, as soon as the doctor said that your father was out of danger I began to worry over the miniatures. I waited until the middle of the afternoon, and then, although it was snowing and blowing something awful, I hailed a passing man––old Joe Patterson––and asked him if he would go on an errand to the Wadsworth house. He said he would try to make it for a dollar, and so I wrote a short note to Mrs. Wadsworth, knowing that she must be at home even though her husband and Dave might be away.
“Old Patterson delivered this message, and Mrs. Wadsworth sent back word that she had not seen anything of Dave since he had gone away on the sleigh-ride, nor had she seen anything of the miniatures. She added that her husband had gone to the jewelry works, but that she would send one of the hired men after him at once and acquaint him with the situation.”
“What did you do then?” went on Ben.
“I really didn’t know what to do. Your father was so ill that the nurse and I had to give him 159 every attention. I was waiting for the doctor to come again, but he could not get here on account of the snow-drifts. Mr. Wadsworth put in an appearance about two hours later, and then I told him just what I have told you. He declared at once that it must be a trick, stating that Dave had not been near the house since going away with all of you young folks. Mr. Wadsworth was quite put out, and wanted to know how it was that I had not been able to detect the deception.”
“Well, I must say––” commenced Ben, and then stopped short, for he could see how his mother was suffering.
“Oh, yes, Ben, I know what you were going to say,” she broke in quickly. “Having known Dave so many years I should have discovered the deception. But, as I said before, I was terribly worked up over your father’s condition. Then, too, the young man came in bundled up in an overcoat and a cap that looked exactly like those Dave wears.”
“They were mine. That fellow stole them from me,” interrupted our hero, bitterly.
“Not only that, but he had a tippet placed over his head and around his neck, and he spoke in a very hoarse voice, stating that he had caught a terrible cold while on the sleigh-ride and while coming back to Crumville on the freight train. He spoke about Mr. Basswood’s real estate business, 160 and about Mr. and Mrs. Wadsworth and Jessie, and so many other things that we are familiar with, that I was completely deceived. Then, too, his turning over that written card to me also threw me off my guard. But I know I was very foolish, very foolish indeed!” and Mrs. Basswood’s lips trembled and she wrung her hands once again.
“What did Mr. Wadsworth do?” questioned Dave, in the midst of rather an awkward pause. He agreed with Ben that Mrs. Basswood should have recognized Ward Porton as an imposter, but he did not want to say anything that might add to the lady’s misery.