“Was he in this office, Bob?” questioned Dick.
“No, sir, he was only in the outside office.”
“Did he say anything about bonds or money?”
“No, sir.”
“Say, tell me something!” broke in Tom. “Were this Barton Pelter and his uncle on good terms?”
“They used to be,” replied the office boy, “but once or twice they had some pretty warm talks. This young feller didn’t like it at all the way his uncle treated your father. I heard him tell his uncle once, that what he was doing was close to swindling. Then Mr. Pelter got awful mad, and told him he had better get out.”
“Good for Barton!” murmured Sam. “He can’t be such a bad sort.”
“Oh, I guess he was all right,” put in the office boy, with the freedom that seemed natural to him. “Only I guess he was dependent on his uncle for money. Maybe if it wasn’t for that, he would have pitched into his uncle more than he did. But say! You said something was stolen. What was it?”
“Sixty-four thousand dollars in bonds,” answered Dick.
“What! Say, boss, ain’t you kiddin’?” and the boy looked incredulous.
“No, it is the truth, Bob. Somebody took a box out of that safe that contained sixty-four thousand dollars’ worth of bonds.”
“Great smoke! I didn’t think there was that many bonds in the hull building!” cried the boy, with emphasis.
“I only expected to keep them here a few days,” went on Dick. “Later on, of course, I would have placed them in a safe deposit vault.”
“Say, boss! you sure don’t think that I took them bonds?” cried the office boy.
“No, I don’t, Bob. But somebody took them, and we’ve got to find them.”
“Sure, we’ve got to find them!” cried Bob. “Say, do you want me to call the janitor? Maybe he knows something about it.”
“Yes, you may call him, but don’t tell him what we want him for,” answered Dick.
CHAPTER XIX
THE FIRST CLEW
The janitor of the building was Mike Donovan, an aged Irishman, who was assisted in his work by his wife and his daughter Kittie, aged about fifteen.
“’Tis me yez want to see?” queried Donovan, as he shuffled into the inner office, hat in hand.
“You are the janitor of this building?” questioned Dick, looking him over carefully.
“I am that, sur.”
“Can you tell me who is in the habit of cleaning this particular office?”
“Well, sur, we are all after takin’ a hand at it. I ginerally do the swapin’, and me wife or Kittie, me daughter, do the winder clanin’ an’ the dustin’.”
“During the past four or five days, have you noticed anything unusual around this office?” went on Dick.
“Phat are ye after mainin’?”
“I’ll tell you. There has been a robbery here, and we want to get at the bottom of it.”
“I haven’t touched a thing, sur, an’ nather have me family!” cried the janitor, quickly.
“You look like an honest man, and I can’t say that I suspect you,” continued Dick, for he saw that the old janitor was evidently much hurt. “I want you to help me all you can, that is all.”
“Sure, sur, an’ I’ll be after doin’ that, Mr. Rover. Phat did they be after takin’?”
“This safe, here, has been looted, and a small box that contained sixty-four thousand dollars’ worth of bonds is gone.”
At this announcement the old janitor threw up both hands and faltered back a step or two.
“Sixty-four thousand, dollars, did you be after sayin’?” he gasped, thinking he had not heard aright.
“That is what I said. Now then, just put on your thinking cap, and see if you can remember anything unusual that happened around here two or three days ago.”
“Two or three days ago. Let me see,” mused the janitor, scratching his head. “I don’t remember anything—Oh, yes, I do!” he burst out.
“What was that?” queried all three of the Rovers, while the office boy looked on with mouth wide open.
“’Twas one avenin’ about siven or eight o’clock. Me an’ me family were up stairs, clanin’ out an office that has just been rinted. Kittie, me gurrel, wint down stairs for some extra dustin’ rags. Whin she came back, she said she saw a man a-walkin’ through the hallway outside. She said that as soon as he saw her, he didn’t wait for the illevator, but went down the stairs in a big hurry.”
“Did she know the man?”
“She did not. At least, she said she didn’t recognize him, for, you see, there was only one little light burnin’ in the hallway, because nearly all the tinnents had gone home. The illevator wouldn’t have been runnin’, only we was goin’ to take up the stuff to the office we was cleanin’ on the fifth floor.”
“Your daughter saw that man in the hallway?” questioned Tom. “Did he seem to come from these offices?”
“No, I axed her particular, and she said he seemed to be comin’ from the back av the hall.”
“What is back there?” asked Sam.
“A winder wid a fire escape outside,” answered the janitor. “Likewise, I’ve a sink closet there, where I keep me brooms and me brushes and such.”
“And you have no idea who the man was?” questioned Dick.
“No, sur. I axed Kitty how he looked, but she said she hadn’t seen his face—that he turned away from her and went down the stairs as fast as he could.”
“More than likely that was the thief!” exclaimed Tom. “The question is: Who is he and where did he go?”
“Did your daughter say how the man was dressed?” asked Sam.
“Sure! She said he had on a dark suit of clothes and a dark, soft hat. That’s all she knew.”
“Was he a big man?”
“Oh, she said he was about middlin’ big.”
This was all the old janitor could tell, and a little later he brought in both his wife and his daughter to be interviewed. The girl was almost scared to death, and could add nothing to what her father had already told.
“Well, it’s a clew, even if it is a slight one,” was Tom’s comment. “Dick, I guess the best thing you can do is to call up police headquarters.”
“I’ll do it. But please remember one thing,” went on the oldest Rover boy, turning to the janitor and his family and also the office boy. “We want to keep this as quiet as possible for the present, so please don’t say anything about it.” And all of them promised to keep silent.
It did not take long for Dick to get into communication with the authorities, and after a short talk over the telephone, he was told that a couple of detectives would be sent down to his once without delay.
“Have you told Mr. Powell?” questioned Tom, suddenly.
“No, but I will call him up now,” answered his older brother.
Of course the lawyer was astonished at the news, and asked what steps had been taken to apprehend the thief. When told that the authorities had been asked to take charge of the case, he wanted to know if he could be of any assistance.
“I don’t see how you can help us, Mr. Powell,” answered Dick, over the wire. “I suppose we will have to put the whole matter in the hands of the police.”
“Well, if I can do anything at all, let me know,” answered Songbird’s uncle. “I am rather busy now, but as soon as I am at leisure, I will call and talk the matter over with you.”
Inside of half an hour the two detectives from headquarters arrived. They were bright, sharp-eyed individuals, and they got down to business without delay. They asked Dick innumerable questions, and looked carefully at the safe, trying the combination several times, and then inspected the offices and the hallway. After that they subjected Kittie Donovan to a close examination, getting the girl to tell everything she could possibly think of r
egarding the strange man she had seen on the evening when the robbery had occurred.
“I think I know who did this job,” said one of the detectives to the other.
“Looks like the work of one of three men to me,” returned the other sleuth. “Baldy Jackson, Slim Martin, or Hank the Bluffer.”
“You may be right, Joe, but I think it was Hank. If I’ve got the dope right, those other two fellows you mention are not near New York just now.”
“Well, if Baldy and Slim can prove that they weren’t around New York at the time, then I’ll agree with you that it was Hank who lifted that box,” returned the other detective.
“Who is this Hank the Bluffer?” questioned Dick, curiously.
“Oh, he’s an old one at this sort of game,” returned one of the detectives. “He is a wonder at opening safes. Somebody told me once that he made the assertion he could open any ordinary office safe inside of fifteen minutes. He’s got it all in his finger ends. They are so sensitive that when he turns the safe knob, he can feel every movement of the tumblers inside.”
“And he is at liberty now?” asked Sam.
“He was the last I heard of him. He got out of a Massachusetts prison about three months ago. Somebody told me he was in New York. I haven’t seen him, but if he is here I think we can round him up sooner or later.”
“Well, what we want are those bonds,” declared Dick.
“Oh, sure! That’s what we’ll go after,” declared the detective. “Even if we locate our man, we won’t arrest him until we can get him with the goods.”
Following this conversation, the detectives made a memorandum of all the bonds that had been taken, along with the numbers thereon.
“If the thief is an old one at the game, it’s not likely that he’ll try to use those registered bonds,” said one of the detectives, “but he’ll find plenty of places where he can use the others, if he knows the game.”
“I’m inclined to agree with you on one point,” said Dick. “And that is that no ordinary person could have worked the combination of that safe. It must have been some professional.”
“You are right, Mr. Rover—unless somebody got the figures of the combination on the sly,” answered the sleuth; and a few minutes later he and his fellow-officer left, promising to make a report as soon as anything worth while was brought to light.
Having gotten rid of the detectives and also of the janitor and his family, the Rover boys shut themselves in the inner office to discuss the situation. They had requested the authorities to keep the whole matter quiet for the present, and this the detectives had agreed to do.
“Now, first of all, Dick, tell us: Will this loss affect any of our other investments?” asked Tom.
“Not for the present, Tom, but how we shall stand later on if the securities are not recovered, I am not prepared to say.” Dick’s face clouded. “You see, it is this way: We have our investments in the West as well as those we went into in Boston some time ago. We—that is, dad—was going to take a loan on that mining proposition. That would involve our putting up some of those bonds—say forty or fifty thousand dollars’ worth—as collateral security with the banks. Now, if we don’t get the bonds back, dad will either have to cancel that loan or, otherwise, put up something else as security—and what else we can put up just now, I don’t know. It’s a bad state of affairs.”
“Oh, we’ve just got to get those bonds back!” cried Sam, impulsively. “We’ve just got to!”
“Easy enough to say, Sam, but wishing them back isn’t going to bring them back,” came from Tom, grimly.
“If we only had a little more of a clew to work on, we, ourselves, might try to get those bonds back instead of relying on the detectives,” said Dick. “But when you haven’t any clews, how are you going to strike out?”
“We might try to find that strange man, whoever he is,” suggested Tom. “Although looking for him would be a good deal like looking for the proverbial pin in the haystack. I would rather dig up the whole of the Atlantic seacoast looking for Captain Kidd’s treasure;” and he smiled grimly.
CHAPTER XX
BARTON PELTER AGAIN
“Well, Dick, any news?”
“No, Tom. It’s the same old story.”
“Haven’t the detectives been able to locate that fellow they thought might be guilty?” put in Sam.
“No, Sam. They told me up at headquarters that all of the three former criminals one of the detectives mentioned, were nowhere near New York, so far as they could learn.”
“Then if they haven’t been near this city, that supposition of theirs falls through,” was Tom’s comment. “What do they propose to do next?”
“I don’t think they know. Anyway, they didn’t give me any satisfaction;” and, hanging up his hat, Dick sank into an office chair, looking much downcast.
Several days had passed, and during that time the Rover boys had done their best to get further clews concerning the robbery. From an old man who kept an apple stand near the entrance of the building, they had learned that the strange fellow who had been seen by Kittie Donovan was a man of perhaps forty years of age, with a clean-shaven face. But more than that the street merchant was unable to say.
“And there are thousands of men in New York City who are about that age and who have clean-shaven faces,” had been Sam’s comment on learning this. “That clew won’t get us anywhere. Now, if the fellow had limped, or had a crooked nose—”
“Sure! And a false tooth with two spots of gold and a diamond in it, and all that sort of thing,” Tom had broken in. “Say, Sam, what do you want, some clews made to order?” and he had laughed grimly.
“I must confess, I am at my wits’ end,” said Dick.
“What did Mr. Powell have to say about it?” questioned Tom, for he and Sam had been out hunting for clews when the lawyer had called.
“What could he say? He wasn’t here when the bonds were taken. He asked me about our other investments; and he said if we got into any financial difficulties through this loss, he would aid us all he could.”
“Bully for Songbird’s uncle!” cried Sam. “He’s as generous as Songbird himself.”
“What’s bothering me is this,” continued the oldest Rover boy. “Sooner or later, if we don’t recover those bonds, we have got to let dad know about the loss; and how he is going to take it, I don’t know.”
“Oh, let us keep it from him just as long as possible,” broke in Sam, entreatingly. “Why, Dick, you haven’t any idea how run down he is, and how nervous!”
“Oh, yes, I have, Sam. And that is what is worrying me. I don’t know if we are doing right to keep this from him.”
“Before we tell him anything, let us consult Uncle Randolph and Aunt Martha,” said Tom. “If they know the truth, that will lift a little of the responsibility from our shoulders.”
“I am not going to tell any of them—at least, not for a week or so longer,” returned Dick. “I am living in hope every day that we’ll get some kind of a clew.”
It had rained hard the day previous, but now the sky was clear. With but little to do in the offices that afternoon after three o’clock, the Rover boys took a walk up Broadway from Wall Street to where the Outlook Hotel was located.
“It certainly is a busy city,” was Tom’s comment, as they came to a temporary halt in front of the post-office. “Just look at the stream of humanity and the cars and wagons, not to speak of the automobiles.”
“What takes my eye, is the size of so many of these buildings,” declared Sam. “Say, maybe an earthquake around here wouldn’t do some damage!”
“And to think of the way the people travel!” broke in Dick. “They are down in the ground, on the street, and up in the air,” and he smiled a little at the thought.
Walking past the post-office, the three youths entered City Hall Park, crossing the same to loo
k at some of the bulletin boards put out by the newspapers located on Park Row.
“Hello!” cried Tom, suddenly; and caught each of his brothers by the arm.
“What now, Tom?” asked Dick, quickly.
“See that fellow over there, leaning against the fence, reading a newspaper?”
“Why, I declare! It is Barton Pelter!” ejaculated Sam.
“You mean Jesse Pelter’s nephew—the chap you hauled out of the river?” questioned Dick.
“The same,” returned Tom. “Say, I think I’ll go over and talk to him,” he added, quickly.
“He may not want to talk to you, Tom,” interposed his younger brother.
“I’ll risk it;” and so speaking, Tom stepped forward and advanced to where the other youth was busy looking over the sporting edition of one of the afternoon sheets.
“What is it? I don’t seem to remember you,” said Barton Pelter, when Tom touched his arm.
“I am Tom Rover,” was the reply. “This is my brother Sam, and this my brother Dick;” and Tom pointed to the others, who were coming up.
“Oh, is that so!” returned Barton Pelter, and put out his hand. “I am glad to see you,” he continued, somewhat hesitatingly. “Is this the one who helped to pull me out of the river?” and he nodded towards Sam.
“Yes.”
“I am certainly very much obliged to both of you,” continued the young man, and his face showed that he meant what he said. “If it hadn’t been for you, I might have been drowned. I suppose you—er—you—er—got my letter?”
“Oh, yes, and we understood it, perfectly,” returned Tom, hastily. “It’s all right. We didn’t do so much, after all.”
“I think you did a good deal,” and Barton Pelter laughed nervously. “You—you are now in business where my uncle used to be, are you not?”
“We are,” answered Dick. “By the way, what has become of your uncle?” he questioned, curiously.
“I don’t know, exactly. I think though he is going East. Perhaps to Boston. How is business with you?” the young man continued, hastily, as if he wanted to change the subject.
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