Bob Dexter was an orphan, dependent on his uncle, and while Mr. Dexter was just and kind, still he had rights that must be respected, and Bob realized this.
“Uncle Joel is pretty good to me,” went on Bob. “And I’ve got to pay him back as much as I can. Look how he let me have a lot of time to myself going to Beacon Beach this summer.”
“And a mighty good thing you did go to Beacon Beach!” exclaimed Ned. “If you hadn’t the mystery there never would have been solved.”
“Oh, I guess some one else would have stumbled on it,” said Bob, modestly.
“I’m not so sure of that,” chimed in Harry. “Anyhow, we won’t bother you any more. Go on—finish the job, whatever it is.”
“Couldn’t you come to the ball game and do it afterward—whatever your uncle wants you to do?” asked Ned.
Bob shook his head.
“It can’t be done,” he replied. “If I can get over to the park later I’ll be there. I hope I can see the last half of the game, anyhow. But it’s like this. Mr. Sheldon, a man with whom my uncle does a lot of business of one kind or another, is sending some important papers on to-day to be signed. If they aren’t signed to-day it means the loss of a lot of money. Mr. Sheldon is passing through Cliffside on the train that gets here at 2:30. He hasn’t time to get off, as he has to go on to a conference with his lawyer. But he’s going to hand me the papers at the depot, when the train stops, and I’ve got to rush them up to my uncle’s office. That’s why I can’t go to the ball game.”
“Why doesn’t your uncle himself meet this Mr. Sheldon at the train and sign the papers?” asked Ned. “Oh why can’t some one else meet this man who’s in such a hurry?”
“I don’t know why it can’t be done that way, but it can’t, or my uncle wouldn’t ask me to do it,” said Bob, simply. “I suppose he has good reasons for not going to the train himself. And he doesn’t want to trust an ordinary messenger to get the papers. So I’ll have to do it. Then, after I get through, if there’s time enough, I’ll come to the game.”