The Project Gutenberg eBook, Dean Dunham, by Horatio Alger

DEAN DUNHAM

DEAN HAS AN INTERVIEW WITH SQUIRE BATES.

DEAN FINDS A CLEW.

DEAN DUNHAM
OR
The Waterford Mystery

BY
HORATIO ALGER, Jr.
AUTHOR OF
"THE YOUNG ACROBAT," "THE ERIE TRAIN BOY,"
"ADVENTURES OF A TELEGRAPH BOY," ETC.
PHILADELPHIA
DAVID McKAY, PUBLISHER
610 South Washington Square

Copyright, 1888
By Frank A. Munsey
Copyright, 1891
By United States Book Co.
Copyright, 1900
By Street and Smith
Dean Dunham

DEAN DUNHAM;
OR,
THE WATERFORD MYSTERY.

CHAPTER I.
ADIN DUNHAM SURPRISES HIS WIFE.

"I've been looking forward to this day for weeks, Sarah," said Adin Dunham, as he rose from the breakfast-table on a certain Wednesday morning in the early part of June.

"Why, father, what do you mean?" asked Mrs. Dunham curiously.

"Because to-day I am to receive a thousand dollars—a thousand dollars in hard cash," answered her husband in a tone of exultation.

"Well, I declare!" ejaculated his wife in amazement. "Who on earth is going to give you a thousand dollars?"

"No one is going to give it to me; it's my own."

"How strangely you do talk, Adin Dunham! You ain't out of your mind, be you?"

"Not as I know of," answered her husband with an amused smile.

"Is it really true that somebody is going to pay you a thousand dollars?"

"Yes, it is."

"And you say it is your own?"

"Yes."

"I don't understand it," said Mrs. Dunham, with the air of one to whom a puzzle is propounded and who gives it up.

"Then I'll explain. You know when Uncle Dan died he left me a piece of stony pasture land in Rockmount?"

"Yes, I know. You never could sell it, I've heard you say ag'in and ag'in."

"Well, I've sold it at last. There's a company goin' to put up a big hotel just on that spot, and they've offered me a thousand dollars for the land."

"Couldn't they find a better buildin' lot than that?"

"Well, you see it's located near the lake, and though it's barren enough it's well situated, and there's five acres of it, plenty of room for all the buildin's required. They offered me first seven hundred, then eight hundred, and finally when they got up to a thousand I caved in——"

"You what?"

"Well, I agreed to let 'em have it. I'm going over to-day to get the money."

"Why, it'll make us rich, Adin. I never expected you'd be wuth a thousand dollars."

"I wonder what Uncle Dan would have said if he'd thought I would have got so much for the land. He never cared much for me, and he only left me that because he thought it wasn't wuth anything. He did better by me than he expected."

"What are you going to do with the money, Adin?"

"I don't know yet. I'll keep it by me till I've decided. Perhaps I'll invest in gov'ment bonds. I guess they're about as safe as anything."

"So I've heard, Adin. I suppose the gov'ment ain't likely to fail."

"If it is, I guess all the banks will fail too."

"How are you goin' over to Rockmount?"

"I'll borrow neighbor Gould's horse and buggy. That horse is pretty strong, and he won't mind the twenty miles—ten there and ten back."

"I don't like to have you travelin' so far with all that money. S'pose you should meet with robbers."

"There ain't any robbers round here, Sarah. This is a respectable community."

"You might meet a tramp."

"Well, the chances are that he'd be more afraid of me than I would be of him. I ain't a child, Sarah. I can lift a barrel of potatoes and put it in a wagon as easy as most men."

"Well, Adin, you know best. Hadn't you better take Dean with you?"

"Why should I take Dean?"

"It would be safer for two than for one."

"You don't mean to say that I need a boy of sixteen to protect me? If I thought I did, I'd stay at home and send Dean by himself."

"Well, Adin, I don't want to interfere. It wouldn't be much use, either, for you generally have your own way. Have you told any of the neighbors that you are goin' for some money?"

"No except Lawyer Bates."

"What made you tell him?"

"Well, I was in his office the other evenin', and somehow I was led into tellin' it. I gave a sort of hint, and the lawyer he drew it out of me. Them lawyers are great on cross-examinin', you know."

"What did Squire Bates say?"

"He told me I'd better not tell anybody else. He talked for all the world just like you did, Sarah. You haven't been chatterin' with the squire, have you?"

"No, Adin, I don't like him well enough for that. I never fancied the squire. He's always showin' those long front teeth of his, like a wild beast."

"They ain't very handsome teeth, I'm bound to admit, Sarah, but the poor man can't help himself. He's as God made him."

"He gave you good advice at any rate, Adin. There's so many dishonest people in the world that it's best to be careful. Did you tell him when you were goin' for the money?"

"I don't exactly remember. I guess I did."

"Do you think Squire Bates is a rich man, Adin?"

"I don't know. He's a lawyer, and keeps his affairs mighty close."

"That boy of his—Brandon—is his very image, even to the teeth."

"Well, he does favor his father considerable."

"Dean doesn't like him. He's a very big feeling boy. He looks down on Dean because he is the nephew of a poor man."

"O, he'll get wiser in time. We mustn't mind them young folks so much. Boys will be boys."

"So they will, but there's different kinds of boys."

"I guess there's room enough in the world for both of them. If they don't like each other they can keep apart."

"Dean is an excellent boy. I don't know how we should get along without him."

"I indorse all that, wife," said Adin Dunham heartily.

"He's always cheerful and willin'—always ready to do chores and give up his own pleasure. I remember last winter he'd set his heart on going with a skatin' party, but when I was taken sick, he stayed at home and tended me, without a word of complaint. He couldn't have done no more if he'd been a son instead of a nephew."

"Just so, wife! Just so! He's a likely boy, and if he keeps on as he's begun he's sure to do well."

"He deserves to prosper, and I hope he will. I wish we could do more for him."

"So do I, but a carpenter that gets work only about half the time can't do what he'd like to."

Just then Dean came into the house—a broad-shouldered, strongly built boy, with a frank, open countenance and red cheeks.

"Dean," said his uncle, "won't you go over to neighbor Gould, and ask if he will lend his horse and buggy for the day? I'm goin' over to Rockmount."

"Going to Rockmount?" repeated Dean eagerly. "Will you take me, uncle?"

"Not to-day, Dean. It's a long ride, and it'll be easier on the horse to carry one than two."

Dean looked disappointed. A ride to Rockmount, which was a considerably larger place than Waterford, would have been to him a very agreeable recreation, but he was not a boy to complain or tease when a favor had been refused. So he indulged in no remonstrance, but went over to Mr. Gould's dwelling, only twenty rods away, and preferred the request.

"Certainly," said Mr. Gould pleasantly. "So your uncle has business in Rockmount, has he?"

"Yes sir, I suppose so, but he didn't tell me what it is."

"Well, tell him not to over drive the Captain." (This was the rather peculiar name of Mr. Gould's horse.)

"I don't think there's any danger," said Dean smiling, for he knew that Adin Dunham was one of the most deliberate of men, and permitted a horse to select his own pace.

CHAPTER II.
SQUIRE RENWICK BATES.

Adin Dunham got into the buggy, took the reins from Dean, and drove away.

The pretentious house of Squire Bates stood a little way back from the road a quarter of a mile further on. The lawyer stood in front of his gate. He smiled as Adin Dunham drove by.

"Well, Dunham," he said, "so you are on your way to Rockmount?"

"Yes, squire."

"And bound on a pleasant errand, too," continued Bates, with a second smile.

"Yes, squire. I can't believe it hardly. It's a new experience for me. I never thought I should be worth a thousand dollars."

"Yes, it's quite a sum. What do you propose to do with it?"

"I may pay up the mortgage on my place."

"But suppose I don't want to receive it?"

"But why wouldn't you want to receive it?"

"Oh, it's paying me fairish interest, and I should have to look up another investment."

"But you could do that better than I."

"Come and see me when you get back, and I'll give you advice. I wouldn't trouble myself for every one, but you are a friend and neighbor," said Squire Bates, smiling and showing the long white tusks that gave him so peculiar an appearance.

"Your advice ought to be good, squire. You are used to investin' money."

"Yes, I have a good deal to invest," said Bates. "Which way shall you return?" asked the squire carelessly.

"I thought I might take the creek road, squire."

"If it were my case, I would come through the woods. It's half a mile shorter."

"That's so, and I did think of it, but you and my wife talked to me about robbers, till I began to think the creek road would be safer."

Squire Bates laughed in an amused way.

"I rather think your wife and I talked like old women," he said. "It seems rather ridiculous to think of robbers in this neighborhood."

"So it does!" said Adin Dunham eagerly. "I told Sarah so.

"Then you'll come through the woods?"

"Yes."

"About what time?"

"Oh, I shan't stay very long after my business is done."

"You'll probably pass through about three o'clock?"

"Well, say four. I've got a cousin in Rockmount that I shall take dinner with, and that'll take up part of my time. Then I've got one or two errands to do at the stores there. I'm to buy my wife a pair of shoes at Ingals's store. He knows just what she wants, and always fits her."

"There's one thing I would advise you not to do, neighbor Dunham."

"What is that?"

"Don't invite any one to ride home with you."

"Why not?"

"Well, you'll have considerable money with you and it might prove a temptation even to a respectable man. You see to most people it is a large sum—not to me, for I am better off than the average, but I've read in my law books of a good many crimes that were the result of a sudden impulse. There's no reason to be nervous, but it's well to be prudent, neighbor."

"That's good sense, squire. Thank you for your caution. Well, I must be getting on."

"Good luck to you," said Bates, as he turned and went into the house.

Squire Bates had been for three years a resident of Waterford. He appeared to have plenty of money, though it was a mystery where it came from. He professed to be a lawyer, and had an office, but beyond writing a will or a lease, or some such matter, had no practice to speak of. This, however, did not seem to trouble him. It was a popular belief that the care of his property gave him considerable to do. He had no investments in Waterford except the house he lived in, and a mortgage on the house and small landed property of Adin Dunham. The assessors got very little satisfaction out of him when they questioned him about his taxable property.

"I am taxed elsewhere," he said briefly.

"But you have some personal property?"

"Oh well, you may put me down for a thousand dollars."

"It is generally supposed that you have a much larger personal property than that."

"I have, gentleman," answered Bates frankly, "but you know that government bonds are not taxable."

That explained it. The board of assessors jumped to the conclusion that Squire Bates had a large sum in government bonds, and did not pursue their inquiries further.

There was one thing that puzzled Waterford people about the lawyer. He often absented himself in a mysterious way, sometimes for weeks at a time. He never told where he went, nor did his wife and son when questioned appear to know. At any rate they never gave any information. He would reappear, as suddenly as he had disappeared, and always explain briefly that he had been away on business. What the nature of the business was he did not state, a sensible thing probably, but his reticence excited considerable remark among his fellow-townsmen, who did not approve of it.

When Squire Bates re-entered the house he went up to his room—his library was on the second floor—and locked the door. He sat down in a rocking-chair, and seemed plunged in thought.

"A thousand dollars!" he soliloquized. "It is a good sum of money. It would be a great lift to Adin Dunham. It would enable him to pay off the mortgage on his place, and that would not suit me. I prefer to foreclose by and by. Upon the whole the money will be better in my hands than in his. It was well I suggested to him not to come home by the creek road. That is too open, and would not suit my plans."

Lawyer Bates rose, and, taking a key from his pocket, opened the door of a small closet. It was a clothes closet evidently, but its contents were of a curious character. There was one suit that a fastidious tramp would have scorned to wear. There were several masks. There were disguises of different kinds, three wigs, one red, and false beards. Of what earthly use could these articles be to a respectable country lawyer?

Not even Mrs. Bates had seen the inside of this closet. Once she suggested cleaning it, but the curt refusal with which her proposal was received prevented her making it again.

"I keep my papers in there," said her husband, "and I am not willing that they should be disturbed."

"I would be very careful, Renwick," said Mrs. Bates. "I would attend to it myself."

"You will offend me if you say more, Mrs. Bates," said her husband, looking displeased, and she took the hint.

Mrs. Bates was a pleasant, gentle woman who did not put on airs, and she was much more popular in the village than her husband, whose face had a singularly disagreeable expression, especially when he smiled, for then he showed his long white teeth, which, as Mrs. Dunham expressed it, were like the fangs of a wild beast.

His son Brandon was like his father, even to the teeth. He was a boy of cruel instincts, haughty and imperious, and disposed to lord it over his schoolmates and companions. He was heartily tired of Waterford, and had more than once suggested to his father that it would be wise to leave it.

"When I want your advice, Brandon, I will ask for it," said Squire Bates briefly.

Brandon did not press the matter. He knew his father too well, but he complained to his mother.

"What on earth can father be thinking of to stay in such a quiet hole as Waterford?"

"It is a pleasant village, Brandon," said his mother gently.

"What is there pleasant about it?"

"The people are pleasant."

"I have no fit associates."

"There is Dean Dunham, who is about your age."

"I hate him!" said Brandon passionately.

"Why do you hate him, my son? Mrs. Dunham tells me he is a great comfort to her."

"I don't know anything about that. He is very impudent to me. He seems to think he is my equal."

"I am afraid you are too proud, Brandon."

"Isn't father the richest man in Waterford, I'd like to know? Dean Dunham is the nephew of a poor carpenter, who keeps him out of charity."

"Ah, Brandon, you shouldn't value people for their money."

"Dean Dunham is no fit companion for me. If I were in the city, I should find plenty of associates."

Gentle Mrs Bates sighed. She could not approve of her son's pride.

CHAPTER III.
BRANDON'S JOKE.

About quarter of a mile from the village was a pond of small size, not over a third of a mile across, but it provided the boys of the village a great deal of amusement. In the summer it afforded chances for bathing and boating, in the winter for skating.

Among the boys who had boats on the pond were Dean Dunham and Brandon Bates, but there was a considerable difference between them. Dean's was an old flat-bottomed boat, which he had bought for a dollar from a man who had used it for half a dozen years, while Brandon's was spick and span new, a very handsome craft, and by all odds the finest on the pond.

Brandon was not, however, the best rower, though he considered himself such. That distinction belonged to Dean, whose arms were strengthened by labor, and whose constant practice gave him unusual skill.

Directly in the middle of the pond was a small island, not over half an acre in extent, which naturally enough was often visited by the boys of Waterford.

On the day of Adin Dunham's journey to Rockmount, Brandon, having nothing else to do, for there was a vacation in the village school, sauntered down to the place where he kept his boat. He had had a small boat-house constructed, where he kept his boat under cover. It had been built by Adin Dunham, the village carpenter, and excited the admiration of the other village boys, who did not aspire to such a luxury.

"Why don't you get your uncle to build you a boat-house, Dean?" asked Brandon, satirically.

Dean laughed good-naturedly.

"My old boat isn't likely to be injured by exposure to the weather," he answered.

"That's true. How would you like to have a boat like mine?"

"I should be delighted; so if you are thinking of giving me one, I hope you will go ahead and do it."

Brandon shrugged his shoulders.

"It is too expensive for a working boy," he said.

"I know of one working boy who would appreciate it. I suppose you don't call yourself a working boy."

"I am a gentleman's son," said Brandon, haughtily.

"And gentlemen's sons don't work, I presume."

"They don't work for a living."

"There are different ways of working; working with the brains, for instance."

"Of course I do that."

"And I, too."

"I don't approve of a superior education for the lower classes," remarked Brandon.

"Whom do you mean by the lower classes?" asked Dean, his face flushing.

"Oh, working boys and working men, and so on."

"Some of our most successful men used to be working boys."

"A few," Brandon admitted reluctantly.

"I mean to become one of those few."

Brandon laughed sarcastically.

"You'd better be contented with your station in life," he said.

"Thank you for the advice, but I shan't follow it."

"It won't make much difference, I fancy."

This conversation took place three months before, soon after Brandon's boat-house was completed.

When on this June day Brandon loosened his rope, and prepared for a row, he was alone. But just as he was pushing off he caught sight of a small boy, ten years old, the son of a poor Irish widow in the village, who regarded him and his boat wistfully.

"Give me a ride, Brandon?" he asked.

Ordinarily Brandon would have answered in the negative, and indeed he was on the point of doing so, when a sudden idea entered his mind.

"Well, jump in, you little brat!" he said.

Tommy Boyle was only too glad to do so, and he did not trouble himself to resent the rough form of invitation.

"Thank you, Brandon," he said.

"Look here, youngster, don't call me Brandon."

"Why, isn't that your name?" asked Tommy, in wonder.

"It is not respectful. You must call me Mr. Bates."

"But Mr. Bates is your father," objected Tommy.

"That is my name, too. My father is Squire Bates."

Tommy did not pay much attention to this explanation, for he was paddling his hands in the water.

"Lemme row," said Tommy, suddenly.

"Let you row? You can't row."

"Yes I can. Dean lets me row."

"It doesn't make much difference about his old tub," said Brandon, scornfully; "you can't row in this boat."

"Why not, Brandon?"

"Didn't I tell you not to call me Brandon?"

"Mr. Bates, then."

"Perhaps I'll let you row when we come back. Did you ever go to the island?"

"Yes, Dean took me there one day."

"We are going there now."

"Are we? Cricky, ain't that fun!"

Brandon smiled unpleasantly, showing his teeth after his father's fashion.

"He'll be singing a different tune before long," he said to himself.

"When I'm a big boy I'm going to have a boat, too," said Tommy.

"Perhaps Dean will sell you his, then," suggested Brandon, amused.

"He says he'll give it to me."

"It'll be a splendid craft, then. Is he going to do without one?"

"He says he'll have a boat some time that'll beat yours, Brandon—I mean Mr. Bates."

"Oh, he says that, does he?" asked Brandon, showing his teeth again, but in a less good-natured manner. "I should like to know where he's going to get it from. Do you know how much this boat cost?"

"No."

"It cost fifty dollars," said Brandon, in an important tone.

"Is that a good deal of money?"

"I should say it was. It'll be years before Dean Dunham sees as much money as that."

"Dean is a nice boy!" said Tommy, surmising that his favorite was spoken of slightingly.

"Oh, he's well enough in his place, but he's a poor working boy."

"My mother says he's awful good to work," asserted Tommy.

"Well, that's what he's made for. But here we are at the island. Wouldn't you like to land, Tommy?"

"Oh, yes—Mr. Bates."

"All right, then! Jump out."

Tommy jumped out, and scrambled up the bank. Then he turned round, expecting Brandon to follow.

But Brandon instead pushed off from shore till his boat rode twenty feet away. Then he turned a laughing face towards his young passenger.

"Ain't you comin' too, Brandon?" asked the little boy, in surprise.

"What did I tell you?"

"Mr. Bates."

"No, I'm going back."

"Wait for me."

"No, I'm going to leave you here a little while. You'll have fine sport," and Brandon burst into a fit of laughter.

"Oh, take me off!" exclaimed Tommy, in dire alarm. "I don't want to stay here."

"You'll be like Robinson Crusoe. You'll have a fine time."

"I don't know Crusoe—I want to go home."

"It's the best joke I ever heard of," said Brandon, laughing heartily. "You will be king of the island, Tommy—King Tommy the First."

But Tommy did not enjoy the joke. He begged and entreated Brandon to take him away, but the hard-hearted boy, by way of answer, impelled his boat vigorously, and poor Tommy, sitting down on the bank, and digging his fists into his tear-stained eyes, felt that he was without a friend in the world.

"How the little chap roars!" said Brandon, turning with a smile to watch the forlorn cast-away.

It did not take him long to reach the boat-house, where he coolly proceeded to put up his boat. He was just hauling it on shore when Dean Dunham made his appearance.

"What are you laughing at?" he asked.

Brandon pointed over to the island, where poor Tommy was still mourning his captivity.

"Look there!" he said.

CHAPTER IV.
TOMMY BOYLE IS RESCUED.

"Who is that?" asked Dean, quickly.

"It is Tommy Boyle."

"How did he get there?"

"I carried him in my boat."

"And left him there?"

"Yes," answered Brandon, with an amused laugh.

"Didn't he want to come back?"

"Of course he did. He's awfully frightened to be left there alone. I told him he would make a good Robinson Crusoe, but the little beggar never heard of him."

"Why did you do such a mean thing, Brandon Bates?" demanded Dean.

"That's my business, Dean Dunham," answered Brandon, in an offended tone.

"Then I'll make it my business," said Dean, sternly. "Get right into your boat and go after Tommy."

"Why, you impudent beggar!" exclaimed Brandon, almost foaming at the mouth with rage, "how dare you say that to me?"

"There's no courage needed," said Dean, dryly. "Are you going to do as I ask you?"

"No, I'm not," said Brandon, shortly. "Be off with you, if you know what's best for yourself, or I may take it into my head to thrash you."

"I am ready—any time, except now. I have something else to do."

Brandon Bates was standing with the boat rope in his hands, preparing to draw it into the boat-house. He was by no means prepared for what was coming. Dean with a quick movement snatched the rope from him, jumped into the boat, seized the oars, and before the owner had recovered from his astonishment, was two lengths away, rowing in the direction of the island.

"Come back here, you rascal!" exclaimed Brandon, almost purple with rage, and stamping in his fury.

"I have no time," answered Dean, coolly.

"What do you mean by stealing my boat?"

"Your boat is safe, I have only borrowed it."

"I never saw such impudence! I will have you arrested!"

"Do so if you want to. I am going to rescue the poor little fellow you have left on the island."

"Then take your own boat."

"Tommy went over on your boat, and he's going back on the same."

Brandon called out again, but Dean was now too far away to hear him.

The temper of Brandon Bates was not the sweetest, but it is doubtful whether he had ever been more angry than at the present moment. He felt that his dignity had been outraged, and himself insulted, and that, too, by a working boy.

"I'd like to shoot him!" he vociferated, shaking his fist in impotent rage at the rapidly-receding boat.

Tommy meanwhile had seen what was going on, the distance being inconsiderable.

As soon as he saw that his situation was known to Dean, the little fellow's excitement and alarm subsided.

"Dean will come for me, and take me home," he said to himself.

When he saw Dean's bold seizure of the boat, he clapped his hands in joy.

"Dean's a good deal better boy than Brandon," he said. He rose from his place, and stood watching eagerly for the coming of his deliverer.

"Hallo, Tommy!" called out Dean, when he was within hearing distance.