Chapter XVII A Vain Search - Dave Porter and his Double by Edward Stratemeyer
To find out what Mr. Wadsworth, as well as Dave’s father and his uncle, had done, Ben accompanied the other young folks to the jewelry manufacturer’s mansion. They found that Mr. Wadsworth had gone to business, but the other men were present and were much interested in what Dave and his chums had to relate.
“We’ve done all we could to get the authorities on the trail of Ward Porton,” announced Dave’s father; “but we have been much hindered on account of this awful blizzard. The telegraph and telephone wires are down in all directions, so it has been practically impossible to send word any great distance.”
“With such a storm it may be possible that Porton and his confederate are still in Crumville,” suggested Roger.
“I hardly think that,” said Dunston Porter. “More than likely they did everything they could to put distance between themselves and this town after they got their hands on the miniatures.”
“I suppose you know we found out that Porton’s confederate managed to get a horse and cutter from Bryson’s livery stable,” said Dave’s father.
“No, we didn’t know that!” cried Ben.
“Well, it’s true. The confederate, who gave his name as Frank Carson, said he wanted the turnout to go for a doctor. He said he had been sent by Mr. Jamison, the minister. Of course, it was all a trick and Mr. Jamison knew absolutely nothing about it.”
“Did they return the horse and cutter?”
“They did not. And Bryson is mourning the loss of a good horse. The cutter he says did not amount to so much. He would not have let the animal go out, only the fellow begged so hard, stating that it was practically a case of life or death–and he offered to pay double money for the horse’s use.”
“Were they seen at all?” questioned Ben.
“Oh, yes! A number of people who were stormbound saw them pass down the street and stop at your house. Then others saw the cutter turn in the direction of Hacklebury.”
“Of course you tried to follow?” queried Dave.
“I did that,” answered Dunston Porter. “It was tough work getting through as far as the mill town. But I managed it, and made all sorts of inquiries. Two people had seen the cutter pass the mills, but no one could give me any definite information as to which way it headed after that. You see, it was growing dark by that time, and the snow was coming down so thickly that it was next to impossible to see any great distance in any direction.”
“Well, we know they went as far as Hacklebury, and that’s something,” returned Phil hopefully.
“Yes, but it isn’t much,” came in a rather hopeless tone from Ben. “I’m afraid they’ve got away and we’ll never see them again, or the miniatures either.”
“Oh, don’t say that, Ben!” cried Laura, sympathetically. “Pictures, you know, are not like money. Porton and that rascal with him will have no easy time disposing of the miniatures.”
“I’ll tell you what they may do!” burst out Jessie, suddenly. “They may go to some big city and then send you word that they will return the miniatures provided you will pay them a certain amount of money for so doing.”
“Say! I believe that’s just what they will do!” cried Dave. “Jessie, I think you’ve struck the nail right on the head!” and he looked at the girl admiringly.
“I hope they do that–if we don’t catch them,” returned Ben. “If those miniatures are worth anything like a hundred thousand dollars, I guess my dad would be glad enough to give five or ten thousand dollars to get them back.”
“I wouldn’t give up the hunt yet, Ben,” urged Roger. “Just as soon as this awful storm is over I’d let the authorities in all the big cities, as well as the little ones, know about the theft, and then they can be on the watch for Porton and his confederate. By the way, I wonder who the confederate can be.”
“I’m sure I haven’t the least idea,” answered the real estate dealer’s son.
With the disappearance of the Basswood fortune in their minds, neither the young folks nor the grown folks could talk about much else. Laura and Jessie told the latter’s mother how they had fallen in with Dr. Renwick and his wife, and how the pair had looked after the girls during their stay at the Lamont Hotel.
“It was nice of Mrs. Renwick to do that,” said the lady of the mansion; “but it is no more than I would expect from her. She is a very estimable woman.”
It was rather hard for Dave and Roger to settle down to their studies on the following morning, but there was nothing they could do to help along the search for those who had taken the miniatures, and, as both youths were anxious to make up for lost time, they applied themselves as diligently as possible.
Mr. Ramsdell had been away, but the tutor came back that afternoon, and the two students put in a full day over their books, leaving Laura, Jessie and Phil to look after the visitors from the West.
The blizzard had now ceased entirely, and by the end of the week all the roads in the vicinity of Crumville were fairly well broken and some of the telegraph and telephone lines had been repaired. The newspapers came in from the larger cities, and it was found that the blizzard had covered a wide area of the country, extending practically from the Mississippi River to the Atlantic seaboard.
“It’s given Ward Porton and his confederate a dandy chance to get away,” was Roger’s comment.
“You’re right, Roger,” answered Dave. “And so far it would seem that they have left no trace behind them.”
From Ben it was learned that Mr. Basswood was slowly improving in health. He had asked about the miniatures, and the art critics who were to have visited Crumville on the invitation of Mr. Wadsworth.
“We couldn’t keep the news from him any longer,” said Ben. “When he asked about the pictures my mother broke down and had to confess that she had let Porton take them, thinking he was Dave. Of course, father was very much disturbed, and the doctor had to pay an extra visit and give him something to keep him quiet. I told him that all of us were doing everything we possibly could to get on the track of the thieves, and now he is resting in the hope that sooner or later the miniatures will be recovered.”
The loss of the miniatures had taken a good deal of the fun out of Ben, and when the young folks stopping at the Wadsworth mansion went out sleighing again, and for some fun skating, he begged to be excused.
“I wouldn’t take the loss too hard, Ben,” said Dave, quietly. “Remember, if the worse comes to the worst, you are just as well off as you were before you heard of this Enos fortune.”
“That is true, Dave. But it makes me mad to think that we had such a fortune as that right in our hands and then let it get away from us.”
“I suppose your mother feels dreadfully about it?”
“She certainly does, Dave. Why, she isn’t herself at all. Sometimes I think that her worrying will bring on a regular fit of sickness. She, of course, thinks that it is entirely her fault that the miniatures are gone.”
“You’ll have to do all you can to cheer her up.”
“Oh, I’m doing that! And I do what I can to cheer up my father too. Just the same, I’m mighty blue myself at times;” and the real estate dealer’s son heaved a deep sigh.
At last came the day when Belle and Cora must return to their homes in the West. On the evening before, Jessie and Laura gave a little party in their honor, which was attended by over a score of the boys and girls of Crumville. The young people played games, sang, and danced to their hearts’ content, and Mrs. Wadsworth saw to it that ample refreshments were served to all.
“Oh, I’ve had a perfectly lovely time!” declared Belle, when she and the others were on their way to the depot.
“And so have I had a lovely time,” added Cora Dartmore. “But I’m so sorry your friend lost that fortune,” she added. Ben had said good-bye over the telephone, the wire of which was once more in working order.
“If you ever do hear of those miniatures you must let us know,” went on Belle.
“We’ll be sure to do that,” answered Laura. And then the train came in, and, with a final handshake all around, and with several kisses exchanged between the girls, Belle and Cora climbed on board, Dave and Phil assisting them with their suitcases.
“I’m sorry I’m not going with you,” cried the shipowner’s son, “But I’ve promised Dave and Roger to stay a few days longer.”
“Be sure to send us a letter as soon as you get back home,” cried Jessie.
And then the train rolled out of the station and the visitors from the West were gone.
On the night before Phil took his departure the three chums had what they called a “talk-fest” in Dave’s room. They spoke about many things–of how they had first gone to Oak Hall, and of various adventures that had occurred since that time.
“The Oak Hall boys are becoming scattered,” said Phil. “I don’t suppose they’ll ever all get together again.”
“Oh, we’ll have to meet at some future graduation exercises at the Hall!” cried Dave. “I can’t think of letting such fellows as Shadow Hamilton, Buster Beggs, and Sam Day drop.”
“Right you are!” came from Roger. “If I can get there at all you can count on my going back to Oak Hall whenever there are any commencement exercises.”
“I half wish I was going into this civil engineering business with you two fellows,” continued Phil. “But I’m afraid I’m not cut out for that sort of thing. I love the sea and everything connected with ships.”
“That shows you’re a chip of the old block,” announced Dave, clapping his chum on the shoulder. “You take after your father, Phil, and I don’t think you could do better than to follow him in his shipping business.”
“If I do follow him in that business, I tell you what you’ve got to do,” announced the shipowner’s son. “Some time you’ve both got to take a nice big cruise with me.”
“That would suit me down to the shoe-tips,” returned Roger.
“It would be fine, Phil,” answered Dave. “But just at present, Roger and I have got to bone to beat the band if we want to pass that examination. You must remember that being away from home on account of that blizzard put us behind quite a good deal.”
“Well, you won’t have me to worry you after to-night,” grinned the chum. “Starting to-morrow morning you and Roger can put in twenty-four hours a day over your studies, as far as I am concerned.”
“Wow! Listen to that! He’s as considerate as old Job Haskers used to be,” exclaimed the senator’s son. And then, picking up a pillow, he shied it at Phil’s head.
Another pillow was sent at Roger in return; and in a moment a so-called “Oak Hall pillow fight” was in full progress in the room, pillows, blankets, books, and various other objects flying in all directions. Then Phil got Roger down on one of the beds and was promptly hauled off by Dave, and in a moment more the three youths were rolling over and over on the floor.
Suddenly there sounded a knock on the door.
“Hello! Who is that?” cried Dave; and at once the three youths scrambled to their feet, readjusting their clothing as they did so.
“Oh, Dave, such a noise!” came from his sister. “What in the world are you doing in there?”
“We are only bidding Phil good-bye,” answered the brother, sweetly.