CHAPTER VIII
NIPPED IN THE BUD
Frank had traveled some in his young career, had read considerable, and hadthought a good deal. The talk of the melancholy man in the white choker hadled up to a point where Frank felt pretty sure he was up to some trick orother. While pretending to be interested in the newspaper he had read overand over, our hero kept eyes and ears wide open.
The stranger talked of things in general now. He asked the farmerconcerning his crops, and particularly about the wife who must be a distantrelative of his. Finally he observed:
"It's a pretty bad prospect for the family of my dead brother."
"How's that, neighbor?" asked the farmer.
"Left them without much of anything--that is, in the way of ready money. Infact, I must bear all the burden of the funeral expenses. I'm short myself,and it's going to cramp me to get hold of ready cash. I've got to makesomething of a sacrifice, and it's worrying me."
"Hope you don't have to sacrifice your homestead, or anything like that,"observed the farmer sympathetically.
"I won't, just the same," declared the stranger with some force. "Ipromised my father I'd never let the old home go."
"That's the right sentiment, friend."
"I was offered ten thousand for it, and refused it. Then fifteenthousand--I would not listen to it. I may have to borrow on it, but itwill be a small amount. I'm trying to avoid even that. Let me show yousomething. See those documents?" and the speaker showed a neat littlepackage of papers secured with a rubber band. He selected the outsideone and spread it open. It was a certificate of stock, printed in greenand red on fine parchment paper. Its blanks were filled in with writingin great flourishes, and there was an immense gold seal in one corner.
"What's that, now?" inquired the farmer with bulging eyes. "Governmentbond?"
"Better than a government bond, my friend," assured the stranger. "Agovernment bond brings a man only four per cent. a year. This stock paid meten per cent. in January, twenty per cent. in March, and I was offereddouble its face value last week."
"A hundred dollars," said the farmer musingly, noting the handsomemedallion figure at the top of the stock certificate.
"Yes, and worth two hundred, as I tell you. I wouldn't sell it at anyprice, but I'm short of ready cash, and I'll pay eight per cent. interestand give the next dividend as a bonus, for a loan of seventy-five dollarsfor thirty days. I'm proud and particular about my business, and I disliketo ask my friends for the loan."
"Say," observed the farmer, dazzled at the sight of the pretty document,"you mean you'll give all that security and interest for a loan ofseventy-five dollars?"
"To an honest man who won't run away with the security, yes."
"I can show you letters telling you who I am," declared the farmer, perkingup with pride. "Straight business with me, neighbor. I reckon I can dig upseventy-five dollars on any occasion."
"Look over the certificate, friend. You'll find the signatures all right.D. Burlingame Gould, president--you've heard of the Goulds?"
"In the paper, certainly."
"He's one of them. Robert Winstanley Astorbilt, secretary, prominent NewYork banker. Excuse me, I've got to get a drink of water. You won't findbetter security in this country than a share of stock of the Little WonderBonanza Mining & Milling Company of Montana."
"Hello!" said Frank to himself with a start "The Little Wonder--why, wheredid I see that name? I've got it! There's an item in the very newspaperI've been reading about it."
The stranger had proceeded to the water tank. He purposely left the farmerdazzled with his proposition to think over it. The latter sat in a sort oftrance of avarice, staring at the enticing stock certificate.
A plan to confuse and outwit the swindler occurred to our hero. He wasintent on locating the brief item he remembered having seen in thenewspaper. He wanted to act on his plan before the stranger returned.Frank's eye ran over column after column, page after page.
"Got it," he breathed at last, and neatly tore out of place an item nearthe bottom of a page. It told of a swindle astoundingly perpetrated by agang of confidence men in the city where the paper was published. Thescheme was to induce greenhorns to invest in or loan money on mining stockof some companies that had no existence except on paper. The Little WonderBonanza Mining & Milling Company of Arizona headed the list of theworthless concerns.
"Quick--before the man comes back, read that," said Frank, leaning over theseat in front of him and placing the clipping in the hands of the former.
"Hey! What----"
"And then give it to him to read," added Frank with a chuckle.
"Hemlock and asparagus!" ejaculated the farmer as his glance ran over theitem. "A bunko man, eh? And I was nearly gulled!"
"Well, friend," spoke the swindler suavely, returning down the aisle, "howabout that little loan? You'll have to decide quick, for this is my stationthey're coming to."
"I see 'tis," responded the farmer, arising with a grim face that shouldhave warned the man, who had taken him for an easy victim. "Say, youmeasly, flaggerbusted scrub, read that!"
The farmer did not wait to have the swindler read the newspaper item. Heonly thrust it near enough to his discomfited face to allow the fellow toget an inkling of its meaning. Then his sinewy hand closed on the collar ofthe swindler's coat.
The train was slowing up just then, and a brake-man threw open the door ofthe coach with the announcement:
"Jayville!"
"I'm going to introduce you to the town," grinned the farmer. "Bolt, youvarmint!"
He ran the fellow down the car, the other passengers arising from theirseats in excitement. Straight through the open doorway he rushed theswindler, and out upon the platform. Arrived there, the farmer changed hismind. The depot was about two hundred feet ahead. Just where the coach wasrunning was a deep ditch.
Frank saw the stalwart farmer lift his prisoner bodily, he heard a yell andthen a splash, and saw the baffled swindler land waist-deep in the ditch,deluged, silk hat, white choker and dress coat, in a cascade of murky mud.
"My wife's cousin, the banker, and his friend, the mayor of the town, canhelp him out of that fix if they want to," chuckled the farmer, coming backinto the car and rubbing his hands as if to wash the dirt from them.
The Boys of Bellwood School; Or, Frank Jordan's Triumph Page 8