The Rover Boys Down East; or, The Struggle for the Stanhope Fortune

by Edward Stratemeyer

  CHAPTER XX AN ADVENTURE IN BOSTON

  The Rover boys looked at each other inquiringly. They wanted to go on,but did not know what to do about the stalled automobile.

  "You go ahead," said Spud, reading their thoughts. "I'll fix the tire, orhave it done by some garage man, and I'll see you later."

  "Where?" asked Dick.

  "I'll go to the Parker House--that is where my uncle always goes,"answered Spud.

  "Very well--we'll call for you or send a message," said Tom. "Come on,here is a trolley!" And he ran to stop the car. Soon he and his brotherswere on board and bound for the heart of the city.

  "Say, do you know any street in town that begins with Carm?" questionedDick, of the car conductor.

  "Carm?" repeated the man, slowly. "No, I don't. I don't believe there issuch a street."

  "Do you know the streets pretty well?"

  "I ought to--I drove an express wagon for four years."

  "That looks as if we were up against it," said Dick, to his brothers.

  "We'll go in a drug store and consult a city directory," answered Sam."He may think he knows all the streets, but every city has a lot ofplaces even the oldest inhabitant doesn't know."

  They rode on a few blocks further and then, seeing a large drug store,alighted from the car and entered the place. A directory was handy, on astand, and they asked for permission to consult it.

  "Nothing like Carm here," said Tom, after they had looked at thealphabetical list of streets. "We are stumped, sure enough."

  "Hello! I've got it--I think!" burst out Sam, so loudly that theattention of several persons in the store was attracted to him. "Here isa Varmolet street. Maybe Mrs. Stanhope only heard the name, and thoughtit was Carmolet. She wrote that down, and the end became rubbed off."

  "You may be right, Sam," answered Dick. "Anyway, I guess your idea isworth looking into. I wonder where Varmolet street is?"

  They made several inquiries, and at last learned that the street was anarrow and exceedingly crooked affair about half a mile away. Theyboarded another street car to visit the neighborhood.

  "Look who is here!" ejaculated Tom, as he and his brothers sat down.

  "Well, I never!" cried Sam.

  "Jerry Koswell and Bart Larkspur!" murmured Dick.

  It was indeed the two former students of Brill--the lads who had run awayafter causing the Rovers and some others so much trouble. Both wereloudly dressed in summer outing flannels, and each carried an unlightedcigarette in his hand.

  "Huh!" grunted Jerry Koswell, as he glared at the Rovers. "Where did youcome from?"

  "Perhaps we might ask the same question," returned Dick, coldly.

  This meeting was not at all to his taste, especially when he and hisbrothers wished to turn their whole attention to locating Mrs. Stanhopeand her enemies.

  "Have you been following us?" demanded Bart Larkspur.

  "No, Larkspur, we have something of more importance to do," answered Tom.

  "Huh! you needn't get gay, Rover!"

  "I'll get gay if I wish," retorted Tom, sharply.

  "You had better not follow us," came in ugly tones from Jerry Koswell."If you do you'll get yourselves in hot water."

  "See here, Koswell, and you too, Larkspur," said Dick, in a low butdistinct tone. "We know all about what you did at Brill--and so do theauthorities know it. Just at present we haven't time to bother with you.But some day we may get after you."

  "Bah! you can't scare me!" snorted Koswell. Yet his face showed that hewas disturbed.

  "Are you staying in Boston?" asked Sam, somewhat curiously.

  "No, we are bound for a trip up the coast to----"

  "Shut up, Jerry, don't tell 'em where we are going," interruptedLarkspur. "It's none of their business."

  "Some day we'll get after you," said Dick. "Now we've got to leave you,"he added, as the car conductor called out the name of Varmolet street, asDick had requested him to do.

  "You keep your distance!" shouted Koswell after the Rover boys.

  "We are not afraid of you!" added Larkspur, and then the car went onagain, and the two former students of Brill were lost to view.

  "They are off on some kind of a trip," said Sam. "Evidently they havequite some money."

  "More money than brains," returned Tom, bluntly. "If their folks don'ttake 'em in hand, they'll both end up in prison some day."

  "Koswell mentioned a trip up the coast," said Dick. "They must be goingup to Portland and Casco Bay, or further."

  "I'd like to go to Casco Bay myself," said Sam. "It's a beautiful spot,with its islands. Tom Favor was telling me all about it. He spent threesummers there."

  They had alighted at the corner of Varmolet street and now started tolook for No. 234. They had to walk two blocks, past houses that weredisreputable in the extreme.

  "I don't like the look of this neighborhood," remarked Sam, as theyhurried along. "I'd hate to visit it after dark."

  "Think of what Mrs. Stanhope must be suffering, if they brought her tosuch a spot," returned Dick, and could not help shuddering.

  Presently they reached No. 234, an old three-storied house, with a dingyfront porch, and with solid wooden shutters, the majority of which weretightly closed. Not a soul was in sight around the place.

  "Don't ring any bell," warned Sam. "If those rascals are here they maytake the alarm and skip out."

  "There isn't any bell to ring," answered Tom, grimly. "There was once anold-fashioned knocker, but it has been broken off."

  "I think one of us ought to try to get around to the back," said Dick."If those rascals are here they may try to escape that way."

  "That is true," returned Tom. "But let us make sure first that we havethe right place. The folks living here may be all-right people, andthey'd think it strange to see us spying around."

  Dick looked up and down the street and saw a girl eight or nine years oldsitting on a porch some distance away, minding a baby.

  "Will you tell me who lives in that house?" he asked, of the girl.

  "Why, old Mr. Mason lives there," was the answer.

  "Mr. Mason?"

  "Yes. He's a very old man--'most ninety years old, so they say."

  "Does he live there alone?"

  "Yes--that is, all the rest of his family are dead. He has a housekeeper,Mrs. Sobber."

  "Mrs. Sobber!" exclaimed Dick.

  "Yes, sir."

  "How old is she?"

  "Oh, I don't know--maybe forty or fifty. She's been Mr. Mason'shousekeeper for three or four years. If you call on her, you want to lookout. She don't buy from agents."

  "Why?" asked Dick, innocently. He did not mind that the little girl tookhim to be an agent.

  "Oh, she is too sharp and miserly, I guess. She used to get me to do hererrands for her--but she never paid me even a cent for it."

  "Anybody else in the house?"

  "Not regular. Once in a while a young man comes to see Mrs. Sobber. Heain't her son, but he's some kind of a relation. I think she's his aunt,or great aunt."

  "Haven't you seen anybody else coming lately?"

  "I've been away lately--down to my grandfather's farm. I came back lastnight. I wish I was back on the farm," added the little girl, wistfully.

  "Never mind, maybe you'll get back some day," said Dick, cheerily."Here's something for you," and he dropped a silver dime in her lap,something that pleased her greatly.

  "It's the place!" cried the eldest Rover boy, on rejoining his brothers."An old man lives here, and a Mrs. Sobber is his housekeeper. She is somerelation to Tad, I feel sure. Maybe she is the one who advanced him somemoney."

  "And maybe she is the woman seen in the auto with Mrs. Stanhope," addedTom, quickly.

  "I shouldn't be surprised."

  "If you are sure of all this, hadn't we better notify the police?" camefrom Sam. "Remember, we have not only Tad Sobber against us, but also oldCrabtree, and one or two unknown men. In a hand-to-hand figh
t we mightget the worst of it."

  "That's a good idea, Sam. Run up to the corner and see if you can find apoliceman," said Dick.

  "I guess I know how to get to the rear of that building," mused Tom."I'll go through that alleyway and jump the fences," and he pointed to analleyway several houses away.

  "All right, Tom. You do that, and I'll get in the front way somehow. I'mnot going to wait another minute. They may have seen us already, and begetting out by some way of which we know nothing."

  Thus speaking, Dick mounted the porch and rapped loudly on the door withhis bare knuckles. Tom ran off and disappeared down the alleyway he hadpointed out.

  Dick listened and then rapped again, this time louder than before. Thenhe heard a movement inside the house, but nobody came to answer hissummons. He tried the door, to find it locked.

  "Mrs. Sobber, who is that?" asked a trembling and high-pitched voice--thevoice of the old man who owned the building.

  "Oh, it's only a peddler; don't go to the door," answered a woman.

  "I am not a peddler!" cried Dick. "I have business in this house, and Iwant to come in."

  "You go away, or I'll set the dog on you!" cried the woman, and now Dickheard her moving around at the back of the hall.

  "Mrs. Sobber, I want you to open this door!" went on Dick, sharply. "Ifyou don't you'll get yourself into serious trouble."

  "Want to be bit by the dog?"

  "No, I don't want to be bit by a dog," answered Dick. He listened butheard nothing of such an animal. "I don't believe you have a dog. Willyou open, or shall I bring a policeman."

  "Mercy on us, a policeman!" gasped the woman. "No, no, don't do that!"

  "What does this mean?" demanded the old man. "Open that door, Mrs.Sobber, and let me see who is there. I don't understand this. Day beforeyesterday you brought those strange folks, and now----"

  "Hush! hush!" interrupted the woman, in agitated tones. "Not anotherword, Mr. Mason. You are too old to understand. Leave it all to me. Iwill soon send that fellow outside about his business."

  "This is my house, and I want to know what is going on here!" shrilledthe old man, and Dick heard him tottering across the floor. "I'll openthe door myself."

  "No! no! not yet!" answered the woman.

  "Mr. Mason, I want to come in!" cried Dick loudly. "There has been acrime committed. If you don't want to be a party to it, open the door."

  "A crime," faltered the old man.

  "Yes, a crime. Open the door at once!"

  "No, no, you--er--you shall not!" stormed the woman, and Dick heard hershove the old man back.

  "Mr. Mason, for the last time, will you let me in?" shouted Dick.

  "Yes! yes!" answered the old man. "But Mrs. Sobber won't let me open thedoor."

  "Then I'll open it myself," answered Dick, and hurled his weight againstthe barrier. It was old and dilapidated and gave way with ease; and amoment later Dick stepped into the hallway of the old house.