The Missing Tin Box Part 22

At these words Hal put down his hand and felt to make sure that the key was turned to one side.

"I can't see anything," said Hardwick, after an examination.

"Then Jackson must have put it in his pocket," said Churchley.

"Perhaps it was nothing but a rat after all," said Ferris.

"I have half a mind to run up and ask Jackson," said Hardwick. "He lives right on the floor above."

"Oh, don't bother!" returned Churchley. "If it's a rat you may be sure he has gone back to his hole long ago."

A little more conversation followed, to which Hal listened intently, and then the youth heard Hardwick and Ferris go out.

Churchley continued to read the papers, and during that time the youth hardly dared to move for fear the man might re-commence his investigation.

But at the end of the hour Churchley gave a yawn and arose. Then two more men entered the room, and the trio adjourned to the other apartment.

Making sure that the coast was clear this time, Hal unlocked the door and let himself out. Then he locked the door again, and threw the key under the table.

"That will tend to stop suspicion," he reasoned. "And I must be sharp in dealing with these rascals."

He tiptoed his way to the door leading to the hall-way, and was soon outside.

Hardwick and Ferris had gone long before, and below all looked deserted.

It was still snowing heavily, and Hal made up his mind that the best thing he could do would be to return to his boarding-house.

He was soon on the elevated train and riding downtown.

Happening to glance toward the other end of the car in which he was seated, he saw d.i.c.k Ferris sitting in the corner, apparently absorbed in thought.

"I'm glad I spotted him," thought Hal. "I must take care he does not see me."

East Tenth Street was soon reached. In making for the house Hal crossed over the street, and ran ahead. By this means he managed to get inside and up to his room before d.i.c.k Ferris put his key in the door.

To tell the truth, Hal did not sleep much that night. His mind seemed to be in a whirl. What was the plot Hardwick and d.i.c.k Ferris had hatched out against him?

He was up early on the following morning. At the breakfast table he had a pleasant word with Saunders, who was a clerk in a dry-goods store, and a pretty good sort of a fellow. Ferris did not appear, but this was not strange, as he had not been down early since his discharge from Sumner, Allen & Co.'s establishment.

Hal was the first to appear at the office in Wall Street. He opened up as usual, and after cleaning and dusting, began copying from the point at which he had left off on the previous day.

At quarter past nine Hardwick hurried in. The book-keeper's face was very red, but whether from the cold or from drink it was hard to determine.

Mr. Allen soon followed Hardwick, and the two entered into a low and earnest conversation in the rear. Hal did not dare to approach them, but he strained his ears to their utmost, and caught the words "he must be watched," and "the detectives will learn nothing," and these set him to thinking deeply.

Presently Mr. Sumner arrived. The elderly broker's face showed deep lines of care and anxiety. He had been up to the police headquarters to see if the detectives could give him any words of encouragement, but he had been disappointed.

"We shall have every one about your establishment watched, Mr. Sumner,"

the superintendent had said. "And I would advise you to go on with business as if nothing had happened."

And to this the elderly broker had agreed.

Hal watched Hardwick narrowly, and the book-keeper showed plainly that he did not appreciate the attention. Once he put his hand on Hal's arm and glared at him.

"What are you looking at me for?" he demanded, in a low tone, so that Mr. Sumner might not hear.

"Was I looking at you?" asked Hal, innocently.

"Yes, you were, and I don't like it."

Hal bowed, and turned away. Nevertheless, he still kept watch on the sly.

Presently, just before the time that Hardwick usually went out for lunch, he saw something which he thought rather odd, although of no great importance.

On a small shelf over one of the desks rested two new inkstands and several boxes of pens. Going to the desk, Hardwick pretended to be busy examining some papers. While thus engaged, Hal saw the book-keeper transfer the inkstands and the boxes of pens to his overcoat pocket.

"Now, what is he up to?" thought the youth.

Having transferred the articles to his clothes, Hardwick put down the papers and walked to where Mr. Sumner sat, busily engaged over his correspondence.

"Shall I go to lunch now, Mr. Sumner?" he asked.

The elderly broker glanced at the clock.

"Yes."

Hardwick at once went out, and presently Mr. Allen followed. Mr. Sumner continued to write for a minute, and then called Hal.

"You may mail these letters, and then get your lunch also," he said.

"Yes, sir," replied the youth.

Then he hesitated as he took up the letters.

"Well, what is it, Hal?" asked the broker.

"Nothing much, Mr. Sumner. I wished to ask you about those inkstands and the pens that were on the shelf over there."

"What of them? You may use whatever you find necessary."

"It isn't that, sir. I just saw Mr. Hardwick slip the things into his pocket."

"Indeed!" Mr. Sumner looked surprised. "Did he say what he intended to do with them?"

"No, sir."

"I will ask him when he comes in."

Hal hesitated.