Part 57 (1/2)
”Den I'll tell der police wot I know; I ain't doin' yer work fer nothin'.”
And the tough poked his nose close to that of Caleb Allen.
”Nonsense, Tommy!” put in Hardwick. ”I agreed to give you a hundred dollars for keeping quiet about what you know, and that's all you'll get.”
”Den I'll--wot's dat?”
A loud noise in the outer office startled Macklin. Hal, listening at the door, suddenly found himself in the hands of Parsons and Samuels.
”A spy, as I thought,” cried Samuels. ”Hardwick! Allen!”
The two called, rushed out, and Hal was surrounded.
”A spy, is he?” cried Allen. ”Who can----”
”That beard is false!” exclaimed Hardwick, tearing it as well as the mustache from our hero's face. ”Hal Carson! Boys, lock the front door!
If he escapes, we shall be ruined!”
CHAPTER XXVIII.
HAL IS EXPOSED.
The moment that Hardwick made his announcement, Parsons sprang to the front door and locked it.
”Carson!” muttered Allen. ”Hardwick, you were right, he is nothing more nor less than a spy.”
When Tommy Macklin saw the face of Hal he grew pale as death.
”Carson!” he gasped, falling back.
”What's the matter with you?” demanded Hardwick.
”Dat's der chap wot followed Ferris ter my house.”
”Followed Ferris. When?”
”Der night he brung me dat letter from you about dat bus'ness over to der--you know.”
”You are sure?”
”Sure,” repeated Macklin, in deep disgust. ”I t'ink I am.”
”How did you happen to catch him?”
”He was spyin' at der door, same as here. We collared him, and knocked him down. I t'ought he was dead, an' me an' Ferris chucked him in a vat in der cellar of der old pickle factory.”
”Ferris said nothing of this to me,” said Hardwick.
”He was most scared stiff, dat feller was,” replied Macklin, disdainfully. ”I guess he t'ought he would not say nuthin' ter n.o.body.”