Read A Young Inventor's Pluck; or, The Mystery of the Willington Legacy Page 11


  CHAPTER IX.

  MR. BENTON MAKES TROUBLE

  "Help! Help!"

  "Vas is dot?" exclaimed Mrs. Snitzer, who had been dozing in the rockingchair awaiting her son's return.

  "Sounds like some von vas in troubles," replied her husband, from thesofa.

  Both sprang to their feet and hurried to the door.

  Mrs. Snitzer had scarcely opened it when a man rushed past her and outof the front hall-way.

  "Help! Help!"

  "It vas Deb, for sure!" cried the German woman, and she ascended thestairs as fast as her portly form would permit, closely followed by herhusband.

  It took but a moment to pass through the kitchen and unlock the door ofthe adjoining chamber. They found Deb half dead from fright, and vainlyendeavoring to escape.

  "Oh, Mrs. Snitzer, a man has just stolen Jack's model!" gasped the poorgirl. "He ran down stairs."

  "Ve saw him," put in Mr. Snitzer. "I go me after him," he continued,hurrying off as rapidly as his legs would move.

  "Oh, what will Jack say when he hears that it's gone!" moaned Deb.

  "Tell me apout it," said the kindly German woman.

  She took the excited girl in her arms, and stroking the soft, curlyhair, tried to calm Deb as best she could.

  In a nervous voice the girl told her story. She was on the verge ofhysterics, and it was only Mrs. Snitzer's quick sense of comprehensionthat enabled her fully to understand the situation.

  In about ten minutes Mr. Snitzer returned. The look upon his face toldplainly that he had failed in the pursuit.

  "It vas no use," he said, "I couldn't see nodding of him;" and hedropped into a chair exhausted.

  Deb's grief was hard to witness. It was bad enough to have Jack away,but to have some one steal his precious model, the idea of his life, wastoo dreadful to contemplate.

  "I shall never get over it," she sobbed; "I ought to have been morecareful!"

  Mrs. Snitzer let her cry it out. Experience had taught her that itwould do no good to check the flow of tears. She motioned her husbandto leave, while she herself made preparations to stay all night.

  As the hours wore on Deb for a while forgot the model in her anxietyconcerning Jack's welfare. As long as she could remember, her brotherhad never remained away over night, and whether by premonition orotherwise, she was positive something dreadful had happened.

  With the first break of day she was on the watch. She prepared nobreakfast, nor did she touch that which the German woman generouslyoffered.

  Deb wandered up and down the street for two hours.

  Still no Jack.

  She visited the neighbors. Had this one seen him? No. Perhaps thatone had? Not since yesterday morning.

  Suddenly she grew very pale, and with faltering steps approached thejail.

  The doorkeeper greeted her with evident surprise.

  "What brings you here this morning?" he asked.

  "My brother has been missing since last night," replied Deb, in achoking voice, "and I thought that perhaps you had--had locked him upagain!"

  "Why, no. Haven't seen him since he left," replied the man. "Missing,eh!" He gave a low whistle, "Hope he hasn't jumped his bail."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Run away to escape trial."

  "Jack wouldn't do that."

  "Can't tell. Fellows do unexpected things sometimes. So you don't knowwhere he's gone?"

  "No."

  The doorkeeper reflected for a moment.

  "Didn't he accuse somebody else of being the cause of the fire?" heasked.

  "Yes, sir; he was almost certain it was done by a man named Mosey."

  "And I believe this Mosey couldn't be found?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Then maybe your brother has a clue, and is on the man's track."

  This put the affair in a new light.

  "Perhaps you are right," said Deb, slowly.

  "Guess I am. Hope so, anyway."

  "Thank you."

  The girl breathed more freely when she got to the street. There was agood deal of consolation in what the doorkeeper had said.

  She walked over toward the tool works, and saw Mont at one of thewindows. A second later the young man came out with a packet ofletters.

  "I've just finished what remained of the work," he said. "Now I won'thave hardly anything to do until we start up again."

  He was surprised to learn that Jack had not yet put in his appearance.

  "The doorkeeper must be right," he observed reflectively. "Who it wasthough, that stole the model, I can't imagine. Tell you what I'll do.I'll post these letters, and then walk out to that farmer's place andfind out what I can."

  When Deb returned home she found a man and a boy in the hall, waitingfor her.

  "Are you Miss Willington?" asked the man, politely.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Then I'm sorry, but unless you are able to pay the rent that is due, Ihave orders to put you out of the house."

  Deb shrunk back in horror.

  "Out of the house?" she repeated!

  "Yes, ma'am, Mr. Hammerby served you with a three days' notice to quit,I believe?"

  "He did--two days ago."

  "Three days----"

  "No, only two."

  "Will you please let me see the paper?"

  "He dated it a day back," explained Deb.

  The man shrugged his shoulders.

  "If he did, you should have complained of it at the time. I am aconstable, and we people always go by the paper. I'm sorry to disturbyou."

  "Where will you--you put us?" faltered the girl, with a white face.

  "Set your goods in the street," was the matter-of-fact reply. Theconstable was old in the service, and many cruel scenes had hardened hisheart.

  "Into the street!" wailed the poor girl.

  "That's what I said, unless, of course, you can raise the eight dollarsthat's due."

  "I haven't it now. But my brother expected to get fifty dollars from aman for an interest in an invention of his."

  "When?"

  "To-day. But my brother is away."

  "Can't you get it?"

  "Perhaps I can," replied Deb, hesitatingly. "I'll try, anyway. Will youwait till I come back?"

  "Certainly," replied the constable, and he took a chair, and began toread the morning paper that he had brought with him.

  While Deb was getting ready for her urgent errand, there was a noiseoutside, and Mr. Benton himself appeared.

  "Where is your brother?" he demanded, without any preliminarysalutation.

  "I don't know, sir," replied the girl, her breath almost taken away bythe suddenness of the question.

  "They told me he was missing," continued the speculator. "I supposethat you have the model safe?"

  "No, sir. It was stolen last evening."

  Deb began to cry again. Mr. Benton caught her arm roughly.

  "I don't believe a word you say!" he exclaimed, in harsh tones. "It'sonly a plot to do me out of my rights! But it won't work, understandthat, it won't work. Either you must produce the model, or else I'llhave you arrested for fraud!"