Tom the Telephone Boy by Frank V. Webster - HTML preview

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CHAPTER XXIV
 
THE FLIGHT

“SUPPOSE we should be too late,” suggested the doctor, as they neared the house.

“I think we will be in time,” replied Mr. Boise. “Of course Mrs. Sandow may become suspicious over what happened while Tom was there, and she may inform her husband. But they can do little now.”

“Can we get back what they have already taken?” inquired the physician. “I am not overly fond of money, in fact all I use it for is to buy books, but I do not like to be robbed and cheated, especially by those whom I have befriended. When my brother died I told his widow she could live with me as my housekeeper. Then, when she got married again, I still allowed her and her husband to live in my house. And this is the way they have repaid me!”

“I fancy we will be able to make them give up their ill-gotten spoils,” remarked the lawyer. “But we must first catch them.”

“You say one of your partners was mixed in with Sandow in the game?” asked Dr. Spidderkins.

“Yes; I am sorry to say Mr. Cutler seems to be involved. Without his aid Barton Sandow could not have done what he has. But I shall deal with him, and also with a man named Leeth, who aided him and Sandow.”

“I was just wondering if perhaps that Cutler might not suspect something, and give the Sandows warning,” suggested the doctor.

“I never thought of that,” admitted Mr. Boise. “He may do so. Still, it is too late now. We will go to your house. I want to have a talk with Mrs. Sandow.”

“And I’d like to meet that rascally husband of hers,” added the doctor grimly. “I’ll have something to say to him.”

“I fancy Mrs. Sandow is as guilty as her husband,” went on Mr. Boise. “She knew of your wealth, and probably suggested to him that they try to secure control of it. Well, they very nearly succeeded. But we are getting near your home, are we not, Dr. Spidderkins?”

“Yes; we’ll get out at the next corner.”

They alighted and turned up the long walk to the house.

“Now, if you haven’t forgotten your key, we can get in without ringing the bell,” said the lawyer.

Dr. Spidderkins began to search through his various pockets.

“There!” he exclaimed. “There’s that letter I forgot to mail. It’s about some choice books, too. Bless my soul, but I am getting forgetful. Let’s see, what was it I was looking for?”

“Your key,” replied Tom.

“Oh, yes. Well, this must be it. For a wonder I didn’t forget to bring it.”

“Perhaps we can surprise Mrs. Sandow,” suggested the lawyer. “Don’t make any more noise than you can help.”

Softly the door was opened, and then on tiptoes they entered the hall. The house seemed strangely quiet.

“She’ll probably be in the sitting-room,” suggested the physician, but the woman was not there. Nor was she in any of the downstairs apartments.

“Look in her bedroom,” proposed the lawyer.

The three ascended the stairs. No voice called to know who was coming up. The house remained quiet.

“I guess she’s gone,” said Mr. Boise.

“I’m afraid so,” admitted Dr. Spidderkins.

A glance into Mrs. Sandow’s room showed that she had taken flight. The apartment was in confusion. Clothing was scattered about, as though she had hastily packed what she could, and gone off.

“This is too bad!” exclaimed Mr. Boise. “I depended on making her confess, before she saw her husband. She has probably joined him.”

“And taken a lot of my money with her,” added the physician. “I only hope they did not disturb my valuable books. I must look and see.”

A hasty search convinced him that his precious volumes were undisturbed in the library.

“I wonder where she has gone to?” mused the lawyer. “I would like to find her.”

Tom, who was in the front hall, uttered an exclamation as he picked up a scrap of yellow paper.

“Here’s part of a telegram,” he said.

“So it is. Perhaps Sandow telegraphed for her to meet him. Can you make out any words on it, Tom?”

“There are parts of some words, and two complete ones. It reads: ‘—eet me at Park—’ and then comes a tear.”

“See if we can’t find the other pieces,” suggested the doctor. “She probably tore it up, and scattered them about.”

But a close search failed to reveal anything more. The remainder of the telegram appeared to be destroyed.

“Let’s use a little detective ability, and see if we can’t guess what the entire telegram was,” suggested Mr. Boise.

“This is about the middle part of a telegraph blank,” said Tom.

“How do you know?” asked the doctor.

“I can tell from the printing on the back. I once worked as a messenger boy for a few weeks.”

“That’s one point,” remarked Mr. Boise. “If this is the middle part of the message, there must have been several words before these, and some after them. Probably the first part told Mrs. Sandow that everything was discovered. Then came this sentence ‘Meet me at Park—’; but what park is there around here?”

“None where they would be likely to meet,” replied Tom, who knew that part of Boston pretty well by this time. “I have it!” he exclaimed. “It isn’t a park. It’s Parker House. I saw Sandow there one night!”

“That’s it! Why didn’t I think of that!” exclaimed Mr. Boise. “Tom, you’ll be a better lawyer than I am, if you keep on.”

“Come on then!” said Dr. Spidderkins. “We must go to the Parker House and arrest them! They shan’t get away with my money if I can help it!”

“We’d better hurry,” suggested Tom. “The Parker House is quite a ride from here.”

“I have a better plan than that,” remarked the lawyer. “I’ll telephone to my office, and have Mr. Keen get a policeman and go to the Parker House. He can get there before we will, and he can cause the arrest of the couple.”

“Good!” cried the doctor. “There’s a telephone in my house here, but I always forget to use it, and whenever I want anything I generally walk after it. Now it will come in handy.”

Mr. Boise was soon in communication with Mr. Keen, and told him how to proceed.

“Arrest them at once,” said the elderly lawyer. “What’s that? Cutler came back, took some papers from his desk, and hurried away again? Well, say nothing about that until I return.

“I think we have seen the last of Mr. Cutler,” remarked Mr. Boise as he hung up the receiver. “Well, perhaps it is better so. I should have gotten rid of him in any event.”

“Perhaps he has some papers belonging to me,” said Dr. Spidderkins.

“No. Before we came away I went through his desk, and I took out all the documents referring to your estate. But I hope Keen is in time.”

“Let’s go and see,” suggested the physician, and, locking up his house, he, together with Mr. Boise and Tom, hurried to the Parker House.