CHAPTER V
BOB MISSES A FRIEND
Never stopping to notice in what direction he was going, Bob dashedalong the street, fearful only lest his guardian would pursue him, andexpecting every moment to hear his voice shouting at him to stop. But asthe moments wore by without any sign of excitement or alarm, Bob gainedconfidence, finally slackening his pace to a walk, and began to think ofwhat he should do, now that he had taken matters into his own hands, andsevered the ties of years that had bound him to his guardian.
Back in the store the grocer had stood undecided what to do. Theknowledge that his ward had been informed of the bequest, a fact whichhe supposed was known only to himself, had unnerved him. And the failureof his attempt to get the letter and thus destroy all evidence of thetrust fund, had caused him to be seized with a great fear lestretribution should be visited upon him.
Instead, therefore, of going in pursuit of Bob, his one idea was toconceal himself. Going to the front door of the shop, he closed it andlocked it and then betook himself to his private office, the door ofwhich he also shut, and sitting down in the chair buried his head in hishands and tried to think what was best for him to do.
But his sense of guilt would not let him rest, and in the thought thatBob might seek some lawyer and place the matter in his hands, whichwould mean a visit to the grocery store and the necessity of makingembarrassing explanations, the dishonest guardian determined to go awayfor a few hours at least. No sooner had he made up his mind upon thiscourse of action than he seized his hat, stole from his room, glidedacross the floor to the front door, listened a moment for the sound ofvoices, or any other indication that people were passing, then hurriedlyturned the key in the door, stepped outside, locked the door again, andafter a furtive glance up and down the street, slunk away, keeping closeto the buildings, for all the world like a dog that was hounded, ratherthan a man.
It was because of this action on the part of Mr. Dardus in closing hisstore that Foster was unable to gain admittance when he arrived half anhour later, having come for the purpose of seeing the boy he hadchampioned so effectively, and of assisting in a reconciliation betweenthe ward and the guardian, in case it had not already been accomplished.On his way, his mind had pictured many scenes in which the boy and thegrocer were participants, but none of them had contained the possibilityof the store being closed. And it was with distinct surprise that hefound the door locked, and was unable to arouse any one by his vigorouspounding upon the weather-worn panels.
"I wonder what it means," said the reporter to himself. "Perhaps Bobdidn't come back, and the old man, repenting of his refusing to go tohis ward's assistance, is on his way either to the police station or tothe court."
His occupation, however, necessitated his being resourceful, and, seeingan elderly woman peering at him closely from a window of the neighboringhouse, Foster hastened toward her.
Bowing politely, he asked:
"Have you seen anything of Mr. Dardus, or Bob Chester?"
"Uhuh! I seen 'em both," replied the woman, nodding her head, as thoughto confirm her words. But though Foster remained silent in the hope thatshe would add to this information, he was at length obliged to renew hisquestions, as she vouchsafed nothing more.
"Were they together?"
"No."
"Which way were they going--in the same direction?"
"No. Bob ran up the street as though the police were after him."
"Then Mr. Dardus was chasing him," suggested Foster, jumping at theconclusion that Bob and his guardian had had angry words, that the boyhad run away, and that his guardian had gone in pursuit.
"No, he wasn't. He came out about twenty minutes after Bob had gone, andwent in the opposite direction."
This response puzzled the reporter, as he could think of no plausibleexplanation, but his thoughts were diverted by the old woman, whodemanded:
"What's wrong, mister?"
"What makes you think there is anything wrong?" parried Foster,determined, if possible, to keep the knowledge of Bob's arrest from soevident a neighborhood gossip.
"Because Len Dardus closed his store on a Saturday. I've been livinghere thirty years, and he has never done such a thing before, but once,and that was twelve years ago, the day he brought Bob back with him. SoI know that it must be something important, or the old man wouldn't losethe opportunity to make a few cents in his store."
Struck by the coincidence that it was because of Bob the grocer had atboth times shut up his store, Foster considered for a few moments whatit was best to do, and then said with ever so faint a smile:
"I suppose you will see Bob when he comes back?"
"I reckon I will. I see most everything going on around here that's tobe seen."
"Then I will be obliged if you will give him this," and he handed herone of his calling cards. "Tell him, please, that I am at home anyevening after seven o'clock, and should like to have him call on me."
"I'll be glad to. I suppose you may be some friend of Bob's who knew hisfather? I've often wondered why no one came to see the boy and take himfrom that man Dardus."
These words suggested a new train of thought to the reporter, and,judging from the remark that his informant had some knowledge of theboy's antecedents, he determined to learn what he could about them.
"Then you knew Bob's father?" asked Foster.
"No. I can't say as I knew him, but I do know that I wouldn't treat adog the way Dardus has treated Bob, and I have often wondered why noneof the friends of the lad's father came to find out about him, or totake him away. And I made up my mind, as soon as I saw you, that youwere one of them. Anyway, I hope so, for Bob is a real bright boy; toobright to be working for that old miser. He's fond of book reading, andI've told old man Dardus, every time I saw him, that he ought to havethe boy educated."
"Well, I _am_ Bob's friend," said the reporter, "and if you think it's awise thing, I'll see what I can do about getting him into a differentplace. You just tell him to come and see me the first opportunity hehas."
And again lifting his hat, Foster bowed and took his departure.
Bob Chester's Grit; Or, From Ranch to Riches Page 5