Part 6 (1/2)
”Somebody must have gotten some things in my name from Mr. d.i.c.kley, and he must have gotten those shoes from Mr. Wecks, too. If the party went there in person and said he was Dave Porter, I don't think it could have been any one but Ward Porton, because, so far as I know, he's the only fellow that resembles me.”
Our hero was so much worried that he gave scant attention to the letters received from Phil Lawrence and Shadow Hamilton, even though those communications contained many matters of interest. He was looking at the d.i.c.kley communication for a third time when his sister entered.
”Well, Dave, no more bad news I hope?” said Laura, with a smile.
”It is bad news,” he returned. ”Just read that;” and he turned the letter over to her.
”If you owe Mr. d.i.c.kley any money you ought to pay him,” said the sister, after perusing the epistle. ”I don't think father would like it if he knew you were running into debt,” and she gazed anxiously at Dave.
”Laura! You ought to know me better than that,” he answered somewhat shortly. ”I never run any bills unless I am able to pay them. But this is something different. It is in the same line with the one I got from Mr. Wecks. I didn't get his shoes, and I haven't gotten anything from Mr. d.i.c.kley for a long time, and nothing at all that I haven't paid for.”
”Oh, Dave! do you mean it?” and now Laura's face took on a look of worry. ”Why, somebody must be playing a trick on you!”
”If he is, it's a mighty mean trick, Laura. But I think it is more than a trick. I think it is a swindle.”
”Swindle?”
”Exactly. And what is more, do you know who I think is guilty?”
”Why, who could be guilty?” The sister paused for a moment to look at her brother. ”Oh, Dave! could it be that awful Ward Porton?”
”That's the fellow I fasten on. Didn't we meet him in Clayton? And that's only six miles from Coburntown. More than likely that rascal has been hanging around here, and maybe getting a whole lot of things in my name.” Dave began to pace the floor. ”It's a shame! If I could get hold of him I think I would have him locked up.”
”What are you going to do about this letter?”
”I'm going to go to Coburntown the first chance I get and tell Mr.
d.i.c.kley, and also Mr. Wecks, the truth. I want to find out whether the party who got those things procured them in person or on some written order. If he got them on a written order, somebody must have forged my name.”
”Hadn't you better tell father or Uncle Dunston about this?”
”Not just yet, Laura. It will be time enough to worry them after I have seen Mr. Wecks and Mr. d.i.c.kley. Perhaps I can settle the matter myself.”
Dave was so upset that it was hard for him to buckle down to his studies; and he was glad that evening when an interruption came in the shape of the arrival of his old school chum and fellow engineering student, Roger Morr.
”Back again! And right side up with care!” announced the senator's son, as he came in and shook hands. ”My! but I've had a busy time since I've been away!” he replied in answer to a question of Dave's.
”I had to settle up one or two things for father, and then I had to go on half a dozen different errands for mother, and then see to it that I got those new text books that Mr. Ramsdell spoke about. I got two copies of each, Dave, and here are those that are coming to you,” and he pa.s.sed over three small volumes. ”And that isn't all. I just met Ben Ba.s.swood at the depot where he was sending a telegram to his father, who is in Chicago. Ben had some wonderful news to tell.”
”What was that?” asked Laura and Jessie simultaneously.
”He didn't give me any of the particulars, but it seems an old friend of theirs died out in Chicago recently, and Mr. Ba.s.swood was sent for by some lawyers to help settle the estate.”
”Yes, we know that much,” broke in Dave. ”But what's the new news?”
”Why, it seems this man, Enos, died quite wealthy, and he left almost his entire estate to Mr. Ba.s.swood.”
”Is that so!” cried Dave. ”That sure is fine! I don't know of anybody who deserves money more than do the Ba.s.swoods,” and his face lit up with genuine pleasure.
”It will be nice for Ben,” said Jessie, ”and even nicer for Mrs.
Ba.s.swood. Mamma says there was a time when they were quite poor, and Mrs. Ba.s.swood had to do all her own work. Now they'll be able to take it easy.”