CHAPTER XXI
TOM TELLS HIS SUSPICIONS
“WELL, Tom,” began the telephone boy’s mother that evening, “how are you getting on at the office? You haven’t told us much about it lately, but I notice that you stay quite late at times. They ought to give you more money for that.”
“Perhaps they will, mother. Mr. Boise said this afternoon that he would think about raising my wages again, though I now get more than do other boys in places like mine.”
“How are you coming on with your law work?” inquired his aunt. “I wish you could soon begin to practice. Some years ago I invested a little money I had in some mining stock. I never realized anything from it, and I believe I was swindled. I wish you could sue the company. I can’t afford to hire a lawyer, but if you are going to be admitted to the bar, perhaps you could take my case as the first one.”
“I’m afraid it will be a good while before I can practice law,” remarked Tom with a laugh. “But when I do, Aunt Sallie, I’ll take your case without a retainer.”
“I’ll give you half of whatever you get from the mining company, Tom.”
“Then I’ll buy an automobile,” answered our hero, with a laugh.
He said nothing to the folks at home about what had happened that afternoon, as he did not want his mother and aunt to needlessly worry. Yet, Tom was beginning to feel more and more that he should tell some one his suspicions regarding Mr. Cutler and Barton Sandow.
Tom had a chance to speak of his suspicions the following day. When he was at the switchboard he heard some one ask for Mr. Cutler, and he made the connection. He recognized the voice. It was that of the man who had often spoken before to the junior partner, and this unseen man, Tom decided, was Barton Sandow.
The message was a brief one, and, under the circumstances Tom felt justified in listening to it.
“I will call you up there to-night,” said the person whom the telephone boy believed was the rascally brother-in-law of Dr. Spidderkins.
“I’ll be here,” replied Mr. Cutler. “Make it about midnight, and we’ll not be disturbed, and no fresh central girl will listen to our talk. Get the rest of the papers to-day, and we’ll wind up the matter.”
“So, the game is almost over,” mused Tom, as he pulled out the plugs, for the two had finished talking. “I think I had now better tell Mr. Boise my suspicions.”
He did so after office hours that afternoon, when the senior partner was alone in his room, and the clerks had gone home. Tom related the incident of the first mysterious message he had heard, how Barton Sandow had tried to make him believe it was of no importance, and how he had seen Sandow and the junior partner in consultation one night at the office.
“And you think they are trying to swindle Dr. Spidderkins out of his estate?” asked Mr. Boise thoughtfully.
“That is my suspicion. And I think that Mr. Crawford Leeth is also mixed up in it. I saw Sandow at his office one night.”
“Perhaps you are right, Tom. It is not a very nice thing to have to confess, but I have, for some time, been suspicious of Mr. Cutler. I am sorry I admitted him to partnership in our firm. He was a sharp young lawyer, and I thought he would do good work, but he seems constantly planning and scheming. I think he knows more about the leak regarding the Kendall suit than he would be willing to admit.”
“I believe so, too,” agreed Tom. “What do you think we had better do?”
“You say that Sandow agreed to call him up to-night?”
“Yes; about midnight. I think Mr. Cutler is coming here then.”
“Yes; he is. He spoke to me about it, saying he wanted to prepare some papers in a case he had to try to-morrow. I thought nothing of that, as he frequently comes here nights. Perhaps he has often met Sandow here.”
“I know he did once,” replied Tom.
“Desperate cases require desperate treatment,” spoke Mr. Boise musingly. “Tom, I am going to have you do something, which, if we were dealing with different people I would not like to ask of you. But I want to find out whether or not Mr. Cutler is involved with Sandow in robbing Dr. Spidderkins. The only way I can do this is to know what goes on between them to-night. If you, or I, could hear what is said over the telephone——”
“I think I can fix that!” exclaimed Tom. “I can so connect up the switchboard that I can conceal myself in one of the rooms here, and hear whatever is said.”
“That will be a good plan. You have my permission to do so.”
They talked the matter over at some length, and finally it was arranged that Tom should go home, get his supper, and then return to the office. He would station himself in one of the clerk’s rooms, furthest away from the apartment where the switchboard was located.
Then, when Sandow called up the suspected lawyer, the telephone boy could listen to what was said. He hoped to hear enough to enable him to expose the two plotters.
“I shall be late again to-night,” said Tom to his mother when he went home to supper.
“Late again, Tom? Why, what is the matter?”
“Well, we have some legal business to attend to.”
“Has it anything to do with my mining shares?” inquired his aunt.
“No; but if this goes through, they may make me a partner in the firm, and then I’ll take your case.”
All three laughed, for the little family was in better shape financially than it had been for some time. Tom’s wages went a long way toward supporting the two lonely women, and, with what sewing Mrs. Baldwin and her sister could do, they had no fears, at least for the present.
In accordance with the plan he and Mr. Boise had made, Tom concealed himself in the clerk’s room about ten o’clock. He wanted to be in plenty of time.
The big office building was deserted, except for the watchman, and there was no noise, save his footsteps as he went from floor to floor, ascertaining that everything was all right. Gradually it became more silent down in the street, as the traffic grew less.
“I hope he comes,” thought Tom, as he sat in a chair in a dark corner, the branch telephone ready to his hand.
Midnight struck on a distant church bell. Tom, who caught himself nodding, sat up with a start. Surely that was a noise of some one coming along the corridor. It might be the watchman. No, it was some one coming into the law offices.
Tom heard a key inserted in a lock. Then some one entered. There was the click of an electric-light switch being turned on, and then Tom knew Mr. Cutler had kept the appointment.
The boy, drawing back farther into the shadow, heard the lawyer going from room to room. Evidently he was taking no chances on being discovered.
“I wonder if he’ll come in here,” thought Tom. He got up from the chair, and silently hid behind a big filing cabinet. And not a moment too soon, for, the next instant, the door opened and Mr. Cutler came in, turning on a light as he did so.