CHAPTER XIV
SPRINGING THE TRAP
"I am going to give you a few days' vacation, Frank," said Mr. Wharton,a fortnight later. "I am called to Washington on business. However, youhave got to feel at home here now."
"Oh, yes, sir."
"And Mrs. Bradley will see that you are comfortable."
"I am sure of that, sir," said Frank, politely.
When Frank returned at night, Mr. Wharton was already gone. John Wadeand the housekeeper seated themselves in the library after dinner, andby their invitation our hero joined them.
"By the way, Frank," said John Wade, "did I ever show you this Russialeather pocketbook?" producing one from his pocket.
"No, sir, I believe not."
"I bought it at Vienna, which is noted for its articles of Russialeather."
"It is very handsome, sir."
"So I think. By the way, you may like to look at my sleeve-buttons. Theyare of Venetian mosaic. I got them myself in Venice last year."
"They are very elegant. You must have enjoyed visiting so many famouscities."
"Yes; it is very interesting."
John Wade took up the evening paper, and Frank occupied himself with abook from his patron's library. After a while John threw down the paperyawning, and said that he had an engagement. Nothing else occurred thatevening which merits record.
Two days later Frank returned home in his usual spirits. But at thetable he was struck by a singular change in the manner of Mrs. Bradleyand John Wade. They spoke to him only on what it was absolutelynecessary, and answered his questions in monosyllables.
"Will you step into the library a moment?" said John Wade, as they arosefrom the table.
Frank followed John into the library, and Mrs. Bradley entered also.
"Frank Fowler," the enemy began, "do you remember my showing you twoevenings since a pocketbook, also some sleeve-buttons of Venetianmosaic, expensively mounted in gold?"
"Certainly, sir."
"That pocketbook contained a considerable sum of money," pursued hisquestioner.
"I don't know anything about that."
"You probably supposed so."
"Will you tell me what you mean, Mr. Wade?" demanded Frank, impatiently."I have answered your questions, but I can't understand why you askthem."
"Perhaps you may suspect," said Wade, sarcastically.
"It looks as if you had lost them and suspected me of taking them."
"So it appears."
"You are entirely mistaken, Mr. Wade. I am not a thief. I never stoleanything in my life."
"It is very easy to say that," sneered John Wade. "You and Mrs. Bradleywere the only persons present when I showed the articles, and I supposeyou won't pretend that she stole them?"
"No, sir; though she appears to agree with you that I am a thief. Inever thought of accusing her," replied Frank.
"Mr. Wade," said the housekeeper, "I feel that it is my duty to insistupon search being made in my room."
"Do you make the same offer?" asked John Wade, turning to Frank.
"Yes, sir," answered our hero, proudly. "I wish you to satisfy yourselfthat I am not a thief. If you will come to my room at once, Mr. Wade,you and Mrs. Bradley, I will hand you the key of my trunk."
The two followed him upstairs, exulting wickedly in his discomfiture,which they had reason to forsee.
He handed his key to his artful enemy, and the latter bending over,opened the trunk, which contained all our hero's small possessions.
He raised the pile of clothes, and, to Frank's dismay, disclosed themissing pocketbook and sleeve-buttons in the bottom of the trunk.
"What have you got to say for yourself now, you young villain?" demandedJohn Wade, in a loud voice.
"I don't understand it," Frank said, in a troubled tone. "I don't knowhow the things came there. I didn't put them there."
"Probably they crept in themselves," sneered John.
"Someone put them there," said Frank, pale, but resolute; "some wickedperson, who wanted to get me into trouble."
"What do you mean by that, you young vagabond?" demanded John Wade,suspiciously.
"I mean what I say," he asserted. "I am away all day, and nothing iseasier than to open my trunk and put articles in, in order to throwsuspicion on me."
"Look here, you rascal!" said John Wade, roughly. "I shall treat youbetter than you deserve. I won't give you over to the police out ofregard for my uncle, but you must leave this house and never set foot init again. It will be the worse for you if you do."
John Wade and the housekeeper left the room, and our hero was left torealize the misfortune which had overwhelmed him.
Frank arose at an early hour the next morning and left the house. It wasnecessary for him to find a new home at once in order to be at thestore in time. He bought a copy of the Sun and turned to the advertisingcolumns. He saw a cheap room advertised near the one he had formerlyoccupied. Finding his way there he rang the bell.
The door was opened by a slatternly-looking woman, who looked as if shehad just got up.
"I see by the Sun you have a room to let," said Frank.
"Yes; do you want to see it now?"
"I should like to."
"Come upstairs and I will show you the room."
The room proved to be small, and by no means neat in appearance, butthe rent was only a dollar and a quarter a week, and Frank felt that hecould not afford to be particular, so he quickly closed the bargain.
The next day, about eleven o'clock in the forenoon, he was surprised atseeing Mrs. Bradley enter the store and thread her way to that part ofthe counter where her nephew was stationed. She darted one quick look athim, but gave him no sign of recognition. His heart sank within him, forhe had a presentiment that her visit boded fresh evil for him.
The Cash Boy Page 14