The High School Boys' Training Hike Part 9

"Four hundred and eighteen dollars," replied the old man, with a lack of reserve that testified to his confidence in these unknown but respectful and sympathetic high school boys.

"All that money?" cried d.i.c.k. "How did you ever come to have so much about you?"

"I owe some bills for goods, over at Hillsboro," replied Reuben Hinman, "and this trip was to take me toward Hillsboro. But now-----"

He broke off, the strange, rending sobbing returning.

"Perhaps we can help you, bad as the case looks," Tom suggested.

"Try to tell us all about it, sir."

"Where did you have the money?" inquired d.i.c.k.

"In a wallet, in this inside coat pocket," replied the peddler, holding his frayed coat open at the right side.

"You carried your wallet as conspicuously as that when traveling over lonely country roads?" cried Prescott in amazement.

"I had a lot of letters and papers in front of the wallet, so that no one would suspect that I had the wallet or the money,"

explained Reuben Hinman.

"I don't see any papers there now," Tom interposed.

"They're gone," replied Mr. Hinman. "Probably the thief thought the papers valuable, also, but they weren't.-----"

"You were robbed---when?" asked d.i.c.k.

"When I was sleeping."

"At some farm house?" Reade inquired.

"No; I slept on a pile of old rags that I had taken in trade."

"In the wagon?-----" from Prescott.

"Yes."

"But why did you sleep in the wagon? And where did you have the wagon?" d.i.c.k pressed.

"The wagon was off the road, two miles below here," the peddler explained brokenly. "It would cost me fifty cents for a bed at a farm house, so, when the night is fine, I sleep outdoors on the wagon and save the money. It's cheaper with the horse, too, as I have to pay only for his feed."

"But the money?" Tom pressed the old man. Reuben Hinman groaned, but did not take to sobbing again.

"I woke up to-night, and found it gone," he answered.

"Did you feel or hear anyone prowling about, or searching your clothing?"

"No; if I had discovered anyone robbing me," s.h.i.+vered the peddler, "I would have caught and held on to him. I have strong hands.

I have strong hands. Do you see?"

Holding up his wiry, claw-like hands, the old peddler worked the fingers convulsively.

"Then how do you know you were robbed, Mr. Hinman?" d.i.c.k insisted.

"Because the money is gone," replied the old man simply.

"You searched the rags, and the surrounding parts of your wagon?"

Reade asked.

"Young man, you may be sure that I did."

"And where were you going when we stopped you?"

"For help."

"Whose help?" d.i.c.k inquired.

"I don't know," replied the old man blankly. "Perhaps to a lawyer."

"Lawyers don't recover stolen property," rejoined Reade.

"Perhaps not," a.s.sented the peddler. "The people whom you should see are the local officers," d.i.c.k a.s.sured the old man. "Probably they couldn't recover your money, though, since you have no idea who robbed you."

Reuben Hinman groaned helplessly. It was plain to the two high school boys that the peddler had started out, thus, in the middle of the night simply because his misery was too great to permit of inaction on his part.

"I wish we could help you," Prescott went on earnestly.

"Why can't you?" eagerly demanded the peddler, as one who clutches at the frailest straw.

"Call Dave, Tom. Try not to wake the others," murmured d.i.c.k.

Then, while Reade was gone, Prescott asked:

"Mr. Hinman, why on earth didn't you keep your money in a bank, and then pay by check?"

"No, no, no! No banks for me!" cried the old man tremulously.

"Are you afraid to trust banks with your money?" demanded d.i.c.k incredulously.

"No, no! It isn't that," protested the peddler confusedly. "The banks are all right, and honest men run them. But-----"

Whatever was in his mind he checked himself. It was as though he had been on the verge of uttering words that must not be spoken.

d.i.c.k Prescott found himself obliged to turn his eyes away. It was altogether too pitiful, the look in old Reuben Hinman's shriveled face. In his misery the small, stooped peddler looked still smaller and more bent.

Tom soon came along, carrying a lantern and followed by Dave, the latter yawning every step of the way.

"Now, which way are we going to look first?" Reade inquired.

"I've been thinking that over," d.i.c.k replied. "It seems to me that the sanest course will be to start right at the scene of the robbery. From there we may get a clue that we can follow somewhere."

"Yes, that's as good a course as any," nodded Darrin, who had received some of the particulars of the affair from Reade.