Chapter XXI Dave in Washington - Dave Porter and his Double by Edward Stratemeyer

“Ward Porton!” exclaimed the other youths in a chorus.

“Let us go after him,” went on Dave. “Shadow, which way did he go?”

“Come on, I’ll show you,” answered the story-teller, and led the way through the crowd as well as he could.

As already mentioned, the crowd at this particular spot on the Great White Way was dense, and the chums had all they could do to force their way along, often elbowing people in a way that was far from polite. Presently they gained a street corner where the pedestrians were being held up by the traffic flowing the other way.

“There he is!” exclaimed Shadow, suddenly, pointing with his hand.

Looking in the direction indicated, Dave saw a well-known form. It was indeed Ward Porton, still wearing the cap and overcoat he had stolen from our hero.

“Hi there, Porton! Stop!” cried Dave, and made a dash for the rascal.

As his hand fell on Porton’s arm the other swung around in a startled way. Then, as he caught sight of Dave and his friends, he gave a sudden duck and crowded in between several ladies standing in front of him. The next instant he was dashing out into the street in the midst of a perfect maze of automobiles and wagons.

“I’m going after him!” cried Dave to his chums, and did his best to follow. But an automobile got in his way, and then a large express wagon, and before our hero could get around these, Porton had gained the opposite sidewalk and was darting through the crowd with great rapidity, paying scant attention to those he met and hurling one little girl off her feet and into the gutter.

“Stop! What’s the matter here?” cried a voice to Dave; and the next moment a policeman came up beside him.

“That fellow ahead! I want to catch him!” burst out our hero. “He’s a thief!”

“Where?”

“There he goes, straight into the crowd!” answered Dave, and then hurried on once more, with his chums trailing behind him.

The chase so suddenly taken up did not, however, prove long. By the time Dave and his friends reached the next corner of the crowded thoroughfare Ward Porton had disappeared once more and none of the youths could tell what direction he had taken.

“I don’t know what you’re going to do, Dave,” said Luke, sympathetically. “He may have gone ahead and then again he may have turned to the right or to the left.”

“I don’t believe you’ll be able to locate him in such a crowd as this,” put in Buster. “What a shame that you weren’t able to get your hands on him!”

“I did have one hand on him, but he slipped away like a greased pig,” announced Dave, dolefully.

“Say, speaking about greased pigs puts me in mind of a story,” put in Shadow. “Once there were two boys–” and then, as his chums gave him a sudden cold look, he continued: “Oh, pshaw! what’s the use of trying to tell a story just now. I know Dave would rather find this fellow Porton.”

“You’re right there, Shadow!” answered our hero, quickly. “I’d rather get my hands on him than listen to a thousand stories.”

Dave was unwilling to let the chase end there; so he and his friends spent the remainder of the evening walking up and down Broadway, and traversing several blocks of the side streets in the vicinity where Ward Porton had disappeared. But it was all of no avail. The rascal had made good his escape. Then all walked around to the nearest police station, and told the authorities of the affair, so that the detectives of the city might be on the watch for the criminal.

His chums insisted upon seeing Dave off on his journey to Washington, and before going to the Pennsylvania Railroad Station on Seventh Avenue the youths treated themselves to a lunch. During the meal Shadow was allowed to tell several of his best stories, and Luke was called on to hum over the song he had composed in honor of their days at Oak Hall.

“That’s a fine song, Luke, and you ought to have it published,” declared Dave, heartily. “I believe every lad who ever went to Oak Hall would want a copy of it.”

It may be mentioned here that later on Luke Watson did have the composition brought out by a metropolitan music publisher. He dedicated it to the senior class of which he had been a member, and the song sold very well.

Dave had already secured his berth on the train, so that when his friends left him he lost no time in retiring. But the novelty of the journey, and his thoughts concerning Ward Porton, kept him awake for some time. Finally, however, he went sound asleep and did not awaken until some time after the Capitol City was reached.

Senator Morr and his family were staying at the New Willard Hotel in Washington, and Dave soon found a street car that passed the door of that place. When he entered the hotel, he found Roger in the lobby waiting for him.

“I thought you’d come right up,” cried the senator’s son. “I told the folks I’d meet you. Of course, you haven’t had any breakfast? The folks will be down in a little while and then we’ll all go to breakfast together.”

Roger was much interested to learn that Dave had met three of their old chums, and wanted to know all that had been said and done. The fact that our hero had also seen Ward Porton was a surprise.

“What a shame you didn’t capture him, Dave! Maybe you might have got on the track of that Basswood fortune.”

“Just what I was thinking, Roger. I did my best, but you know what a New York crowd is. Porton slipped through it and disappeared almost like magic.”

Senator Morr and his wife greeted Dave warmly. The four had breakfast in a private dining-room, and during the course of the meal the senator had much to say regarding the departure of his son and Dave for Texas.

“I know one or two of the men connected with the Mentor Construction Company,” said the senator. “They are very fine fellows, and I think they will see to it that you are treated rightly.”

“Dad, of course, has some influence with them,” broke in Roger, “being a senator, you know.”

“I don’t use my influence that way, Roger,” answered the father, shortly. “You must not expect special favors because I happen to be a United States senator. I expect you to make your way on your own merit.”

“And that’s what I’m going to do,” answered the son, promptly.

“I do hope both of you boys keep out of trouble,” said Mrs. Morr. “You are going close to the border of Mexico, and there has been fighting going on along that border for many months.”

“We are not going down there to get into any fights,” answered Dave. “We are going down there to attend strictly to business. If the Mexicans will only leave us alone, we’ll leave them alone.”

Dave and Roger had at first thought to go to Texas by the way of New Orleans and Houston, but after some thought they decided to take the journey by the way of St. Louis, Kansas City and San Antonio. Their train was to leave on the following morning, so that the two youths had a whole day practically to themselves.

“Now I am in Washington I’d like to take a look around,” said Dave.

“I knew you’d like to do that, so I got everything ready beforehand,” announced his chum. “We’ll spend to-day in sightseeing.”

They visited the Capitol and the White House, and numerous other buildings, and almost before they were aware it was evening. Then Mrs. Morr insisted upon it that her son retire early, knowing what a hard journey was before him.

The senator’s son had received word that the Mentor Construction Company had opened a temporary office at San Antonio, and the two youths were to report there before proceeding farther. The engineering corps to which they had been assigned was on the point of moving from one place to another, and they were to get definite instructions at San Antonio regarding their further movements.

“Well, good-bye and good luck to you!” said the senator, who came down to the depot with them to see them off.

“Good-bye, Dad,” answered Roger, shaking hands warmly. Dave, too, shook hands with his chum’s father.

Then, in a moment more, the two youths were off on their long journey to Texas.

“This kind of traveling is rather different from what the pioneers put up with,” remarked Roger, as the two settled themselves in their comfortable seats, they having a whole section of the sleeper to themselves. “Think of what it must have been to travel thousands of miles in a boomer wagon behind a team of mules or oxen!”

“Yes, Roger, and think of being on the lookout constantly for unfriendly Indians and wild beasts,” added Dave. “I’ll tell you, when you come to consider the luxuries we enjoy these days we have much to be thankful for.”

The day’s run was a pleasant one, and the youths enjoyed it greatly. They spent the time in chatting about the prospects and in gazing at the swiftly-moving panorama to be seen from the car window.

“It’s a pity we have to sleep when there is so much to see,” was Dave’s comment, as, after having passed through Cincinnati, it grew time to retire. “I’d like very much to see what this section of the country looks like.”

The following morning found them crossing the Mississippi River. They passed through St. Louis, and then the train headed for Kansas City, where they were to change for Fort Worth and San Antonio.

The train for San Antonio proved to be much less crowded than the other had been. As before, the youths had a section to themselves, and none of the sections near them was occupied. But when, on the following day, the train stopped at a way station several passengers got aboard, including a man who took the section opposite to that occupied by our friends.

This man was a tall, heavy-set and red-faced individual, having reddish hair and a heavy reddish mustache. He looked the youths over rather coldly, and then, throwing himself down in his seat, proceeded to read a newspaper.

“Doesn’t look like a very friendly fellow,” whispered Roger to Dave. “I was hoping we might meet somebody who would warm up a little and tell us something about this part of the country.”

“You’ve got to go slow in making friends out in a strange place like this,” answered Dave.

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Dave,” was the quick reply. “My father tells me that folks in the West and Southwest are usually very friendly. We found them so on our way to Star Ranch.”

The boys continued to talk of the prospects ahead, and during the conversation the Mentor Construction Company was mentioned several times. Then Dave noticed that the burly man opposite had dropped his newspaper and was looking at them curiously. Finally the man arose and stepped across the aisle.

“Did I hear you young fellows speaking about the Mentor Construction Company?” he asked, not unpleasantly.

“You did,” answered Dave.

“Are you connected with that concern?” went on the man.

“We are going to work for them,” answered Roger. “We have just been appointed to the engineering department.”

“You don’t say!” cried the man in surprise. “I’m with that company myself. My name is William Jarvey. What is yours?”

The boys told him, and all shook hands. Then, as Roger crossed over to sit down beside Dave, the man sank down in the seat opposite.