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Randy of the River: The Adventures of a Young Deckhand, a fiction by Horatio Alger |
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Chapter 22. Mr. Bartlett Makes A Move |
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_ CHAPTER XXII. MR. BARTLETT MAKES A MOVE As soon as the boat had tied up at Albany, and his work was at an end, Randy attired himself in his best and took a street car for the residence of the Bartletts. It was a humble place on a side street, quite in contrast to the fine residence the family had occupied in Riverport. "Hullo, Randy!" cried Jack, as he came to the door to answer our hero's ring. "This is a surprise. Walk right in. Did you send word that you were coming?" "I did not, Jack. Is your father home?" "Yes, he is just finishing his supper." "I want to see him." "Had your supper?" "Yes, I got a bite before I left the boat." "All right--otherwise I know mother will welcome you at our table." Jack went off to tell his father, and presently Mr. Bartlett walked in. He looked rather care-worn and tired. Evidently his new situation was a hard one to fill and did not agree with him. "How do you do, Randy?" said Mr. Bartlett. "Glad to see you. Jack says you want to see me." "I do, Mr. Bartlett. Can I talk to you in private?" "Certainly. Come into the parlor." Mr. Bartlett led the way and closed the door. Then both sat down. "I want to tell you something about Mr. Bangs and a man named Tuller," began Randy. "They were on the boat to-day and I overheard some of their talk." "Tuller, eh?" said Mr. Bartlett, and his brow darkened. As well as he could Randy repeated the talk he had heard. Jack's father listened with keen interest. He was astonished when Randy mentioned the papers which had been abstracted from his desk. "So Bangs has them in his safe at home, eh?" he cried. "Well, I am going to get them, be the cost what it may. They belong to me, and I am going to take them no matter where I find them." He was equally astonished to hear that a certain Mr. Robinson was not acting with Amos Bangs and certain other men, Tuller included. "They gave me to understand that Robinson was with them," said Philip Bartlett. "If Robinson will only act with me, perhaps I can do a great deal." "Then why don't you write to Mr. Robinson and find out?" "I will go and see him." "Oh, then he lives here." "No, in Springfield. But our works are going to shut down for a few days, so I will have ample time. Randy, I am very thankful to you for bringing me this news." "I hope it does you some good, Mr. Bartlett." "I think it will. Perhaps I'll only be able to scare Bangs, but that may make him careful, so I can get something out of my stock in the iron works company." "If you ever want me as a witness I will do what I can for you." "Thank you, my lad; you are kind and I will remember what you say." After that Mrs. Bartlett and Jack came in and learned something of what had brought our hero to the house. "Good for you, Randy!" cried Jack. "Father, if I were you, I'd break into old Bangs's safe." "Pray do nothing rash," pleaded Mrs. Bartlett. "Remember he is rich and has many friends." "He is certainly rich," said Randy, "but I doubt if the family have many friends. All of them are too overbearing." "Bangs broke into father's private desk and took the papers," went on Jack. "It would be only tit for tat to break open the safe and get the papers back." "I shall see Robinson first and then make up my mind what to do," answered his father. Randy spent a pleasant evening with Jack, and when it came time to go to the boat Jack walked half the distance with our hero. "I wish father could get what is due him," said Jack on the way. "He can't stand the hard work he is now doing." The next morning Randy sailed down the river on the steamboat. Twenty-four hours later Mr. Bartlett crossed the Hudson and took a train for Springfield. He hoped to find Mr. Robinson at one of the banks and he was not disappointed. The bank official--for such Mr. Robinson was--listened with interest to all Philip Bartlett had to tell. He shook his head when Amos Bangs and Tuller were mentioned. "I suspected as much," said he. "I was given to understand that Bangs had bought you out. I couldn't understand it either, for you once told me that you did not wish to leave the works. I have just gotten back from a trip to Europe and have a good deal to attend to here, but I will take this matter up as soon as I possibly can." "And you will stand in with me?" asked Mr. Bartlett, anxiously. "If you wish it." "I do." "Then we must act together." "And what would be your advice regarding those papers in Bangs's private safe at his house?" "Get out a search warrant and take a professional safe man along, to open the strong box," answered the bank official, promptly. "And do not delay either. He may take it into his head to burn the papers up." "I will do as you say," answered Mr. Bartlett with decision. Some of his old-time will power had come back to him and he lost not a moment in carrying out his plans. He visited a firm dealing in safes and from them got the address of a man who claimed to be able to open any ordinary safe made. Then he called on this individual. "You open safes?" he asked. "I do--if I have the proper authority," answered the man. "Can you open a first-class house safe?" "Yes." "How long will it take?" "From five minutes to three hours." "What are your charges?" "Ten to fifty dollars. I'll have to see the safe before I can set a definite figure." "Will you be at liberty to-morrow?" "I'll be at your service if you engage me now." "Very well, you may consider yourself engaged. I wish you to meet me in Riverport at about noon." "Your own safe?" "No." "You'll have authority to open it?" "I think so. I've got to go to court to get it, though." "Ah! a legal case, eh?" "Yes. You don't object, do you?" "Oh, no, I have many legal cases. Had to force a safe for some lawyers in Bridgeport only last week." "You will not disappoint me?" "Not at all, Mr. Bartlett." With this understanding Philip Bartlett left the safe opener and took a train back to his home. But, as it happened, a certain man saw him leaving the safe opener's office. This man was none other than Tuller, the friend to Amos Bangs. "Bartlett, eh?" murmured Tuller to himself. "What is he doing in Springfield?" He chanced to know the safe opener, whose name was Westinghouse, and presently dropped into the other's office as if by accident. "How is business, Westinghouse?" he said, indifferently. "Fair," was the answer. "Had two jobs last week." "Good enough." "How is business with you?" "Booming. I suppose you get jobs ahead, is that it, or do you go out on the run, so to speak?" "Sometimes I get orders ahead, but most of the jobs come in on the run--safe out of order, or something like that. I've got to go to Riverport to-morrow." "Is that so? Bank?" "No, a private party, I reckon. Going to have a safe opened by an order from the court, I think." "Is that so! Well, I wish you luck on the job. Good-day." "Good-day!" answered the safe opener. Once on the street Tuller's face changed. "Bartlett must have given that order, and if so he means to either open up the safe at the iron works or else the safe at Bangs's house. I must see Bangs and warn him, so that nothing is found which will do us harm!" At first he thought to telegraph, but then came to the conclusion that it would be too risky. A letter might not be received in time. "I'll go myself," he said, and an hour later was on his way to Riverport. _ |
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