Dan, the Newsboy by Jr. Horatio Alger (best detective novels of all time txt) 📕

the ladder, you young rascal!" roared Donovan, when, turning from his work, he saw how the tables had been turned.

"It wouldn't be convenient just yet," answered Dan, coolly.

He shut the trap-door, hastily lugged the ladder to the rear of the house (unobserved, for there were no customers present), then dashed up stairs and beckoned to Althea to follow him. There was no obstacle, for Mrs. Donovan was stupefied by liquor.

Putting on her things, the little girl hastily and gladly obeyed.

As they passed through the saloon, Donovan's execrations and shouts were heard proceeding from the cellar.

"What's that, Dan?" asked Althea, trembling.

"Never you mind, Althea," said Dan. "I'll tell you later."

The two children hurried to the nearest horse-car, which luckily came up at the moment, and jumped on board.

[Pg 276]

Dan looked back with a smile at the saloon, saying to himself:

"I rather think, Mr. Donovan, you've found your match this time. I hope you'll enjoy the cellar as much as I did."

In about an hour and a half Dan, holding Althea by the hand, triumphantly led her into his mother's presence.

"I've brought her back, mother," he said.

"Oh, my dear, dear little girl!" exclaimed Mrs. Mordaunt, joyfully. "I thought I should never, never see you again. How did you find her, Dan?"

But we will not wait to hear a twice-told tale. Rather let us return to Donovan, where the unhappy proprietor is still a captive in his own cellar. Here he remained till his cries attracted the attention of a wondering customer, who finally lifted the trap-door.

"What are you doin' down there?" he asked, amazed.

"Put down the ladder and let me up first of all."

"I don't see any ladder."

"Look round, then. I suppose the cursed boy has hidden it."

It was a considerable time before the ladder was[Pg 277] found. Then the saloon-keeper emerged from his prison in a very bad humor.

"How did you get shut up there?" asked his liberator.

"What business is it of yours?" demanded Donovan, irritably.

"I wish I had left you there," said the customer, with justifiable indignation. "This is your gratitude for my trouble, is it?"

"Excuse me, but I'm so mad with that cursed boy. What'll you take? It's my treat."

"Come, that's talking," said the placated customer. "What boy do you mean?"

"Wait a minute," said Donovan, a sudden fear possessing him.

He rushed up stairs and looked for Althea.

His wife was lying on the floor, breathing heavily, but the little girl was gone.

"The boy's got her! What a cursed fool I have been!" exclaimed Donovan, sinking into a chair.

Then, in a blind fury with the wife who didn't prevent the little girl's recapture, he seized a pail of water and emptied it over the face of the prostrate woman.

Mrs. Donovan came to, and berated her husband furiously.

[Pg 278]

"Serves you right, you jade!" said the affectionate husband.

He went down stairs feeling better. He had had revenge on somebody.

It was certainly an unlucky day for the Donovans.

[Pg 279]

CHAPTER XL. HARTLEY SURPRISED.

After calling at Donovan's, on the day when Dan recovered Althea, John Hartley crossed the Courtlandt street ferry, and took a train to Philadelphia with Blake, his accomplice in the forged certificates. The two confederates had raised some Pennsylvania railway certificates, which they proposed to put on the Philadelphia market.

They spent several days in the Quaker City, and thus Hartley heard nothing of the child's escape.

Donovan did not see fit to inform him, as this would stop the weekly remittance for the child's board, and, moreover, draw Hartley's indignation down upon his head.

One day, in a copy of the New York Herald, which he purchased at the news-stand in the Continental Hotel, Hartley observed the arrival of Harriet Vernon at the Fifth Avenue Hotel.

"I thought she would come," he said to himself, with a smile. "I have her in my power at last. She must submit to my terms, or lose sight of the child altogether."

[Pg 280]

"Blake," he said, aloud, "I must take the first train to New York."

"Why, what's up, partner?" asked Blake, in surprise. "Anything gone wrong?"

"On the contrary, I see a chance of making a good haul."

"How?"

"Not in our line. It's some private business of my own."

"All right. I wish you success. When will you return?"

"That I can't exactly say. I will write or telegraph you."

In the evening of the same day Mrs. Vernon sat in her room at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. A servant brought up a card bearing the name of John Hartley.

"He is prompt," she said to herself, with a smile. "Probably he has not heard of Althea's escape from the den to which he carried her. I will humor him, in that case, and draw him out."

"I will see the gentleman in the parlor," she said.

Five minutes later she entered the ladies' parlor. Hartley rose to receive her with a smile of conscious power, which told Harriet Vernon that he was ignorant of the miscarriage of his plans.

"I heard of your unexpected arrival, Mrs. [Pg 281]Vernon," he commenced, "and have called to pay my respects."

"Your motive is appreciated, John Hartley," she said, coldly. "I expected to see you."

"That's pleasant," he said, mockingly. "May I beg to apologize for constraining you to cross the Atlantic?"

"Don't apologize; you have merely acted out your nature."

"Probably that is not meant to be complimentary. However, it can't be helped."

"I suppose you have something to say to me, John Hartley," said Mrs. Vernon, seating herself. "Pray proceed."

"You are quite right. I wrote you that I had ferreted out your cunningly devised place of concealment for my daughter."

"You did."

He looked at her a little puzzled. She seemed very cool and composed, whereas he expected she would be angry and disturbed.

"We may as well come to business at once," he said. "If you wish to recover the charge of your ward, you must accede to my terms."

"State them."

"They are expressed in my letter to you. You[Pg 282] must agree to pay me a thousand dollars each quarter."

"It strikes me you are exorbitant in your demands."

"I don't think so. At any rate, the money won't come out of you. It will come from my daughter's income."

"So you would rob your daughter, John Hartley?"

"Rob my daughter!" he exclaimed, angrily. "She will have enough left. Is she to live in luxury, and with thousands to spare, while I, her only living parent, wander penniless and homeless about the world."

"I might sympathize with you, if I did not know how you have misused the gifts of fortune, and embittered the existence of my poor sister. As it is, it only disgusts me."

"I don't want you sympathy, Harriet Vernon," he said, roughly. "I want four thousand dollars a year."

"Suppose I decline to let you have it?"

"Then you must take the consequences," he said, quickly.

"What are to be the consequences?" she asked, quietly.

"That you and Althea will be forever separated. She shall never see you again."

[Pg 283]

He looked at her intently to see the effect of his threat.

Harriet Vernon was as cool and imperturbable as ever.

"Have you been in New York for a week past?" she asked, as he thought, irrelevantly.

"Why do you ask?"

"I have a reason."

"No, I have not."

"So I thought."

"Why did you think so?"

"Because you don't appear to know what has happened."

"What has happened?" he asked, uneasily.

"Mr. Donovan can tell you. As for me, I bid you good-evening."

A wild fear took possession of him.

"What do you mean?" he demanded, hurriedly.

"I mean, John Hartley, that you are not as shrewd as you imagine. I mean that a boy has foiled you; and while you were doubtless laughing at his simplicity, he has proved more than a match for you. You have no claim upon me, and I must decline your disinterested proposal."

She left the room, leaving him crest-fallen and stupefied.

[Pg 284]

"Has Donovan betrayed me?" he muttered. "I will soon find out."

He started for Brooklyn immediately, and toward eleven o'clock entered the saloon at Donovan's.

"Where is the child?" he demanded, sternly.

The rubicund host turned pale.

"She's gone," he cried, "but I couldn't help it, Mr. Hartley. On my honor, I couldn't."

"How did it happen? Tell me at once."

The story was told, Donovan ending by invoking curses upon the boy who had played such a trick upon him.

"You're a fool!" said Hartley, roughly. "I am ashamed of you, for allowing a boy to get the best of you."

"That boy's a fox," said Donovan. "He's a match for the old one, he is. I'd like to break his neck for him."

"It's not too late. I may get hold of the girl again," mused Hartley, as he rose to go. "If I do, I won't put her in charge of such a dunderhead."

He left Donovan's and returned to New York, but he had hardly left the Fulton ferry-boat when he was tapped on the shoulder by an officer.

"I want you," he said.

"What for?" asked Hartley, nervously.

[Pg 285]

"A little financial irregularity, as they call it in Wall street. You may know something about some raised railroad certificates!"

"Confusion!" muttered Hartley. "Luck is dead against me."

[Pg 286]

CHAPTER XLI. DAN IS ADOPTED.

The morning papers contained an account of John Hartley's arrest, and the crime with which he was charged.

Harriet Vernon read it at the breakfast-table with an interest which may be imagined.

"I don't like to rejoice in any man's misfortune," she said to herself, "but now I can have a few years of peace. My precious brother-in-law will doubtless pass the next few years in enforced seclusion, and I can have a settled home."

Directly after breakfast, she set out for the humble home of her niece. She found all at home, for Dan was not to go back to business till Monday.

"Well, my good friend," she said, "I have news for you."

"Good news, I hope," said Dan.

"Yes, good news. Henceforth I can have Althea with me. The obstacle that separated us is removed."

Mrs. Mordaunt's countenance fell, and Dan looked[Pg 287] sober. It was plain that Althea was to be taken from them, and they had learned to love her.

"I am very glad," faltered Mrs. Mordaunt.

"You don't look glad," returned Mrs. Vernon.

"You see we don't like to part with Althea," explained Dan, who understood his mother's feelings.

"Who said you were to part with the child?" asked Mrs. Vernon, bluntly.

"I thought you meant to take her from us."

"Oh, I see. Your mistake is a natural one, for I have not told you my plans. I mean to take a house up town, install Mrs. Mordaunt as my housekeeper and friend, and adopt this young man (indicating Dan), provided he has no objection."

"How kind you are, Mrs. Vernon," ejaculated Mrs. Mordaunt.

"No, I am selfish. I have plenty of money, and no one to care for, or to care for me. I have taken a fancy to you all, and I am quite sure that we can all live happily together. Althea is my niece, and you, Dan, may call me aunt, too, if you like. Is it a bargain?"

Dan offered her his hand in a frank, cordial way, which she liked.

"So it is settled, then," she said, in a pleased voice. "I ought to warn you," she added, "that I have the[Pg 288] reputation of being ill-tempered. You may get tired of living with me."

"We'll take the risk," said Dan, smiling.

Mrs. Vernon, whose habit it was to act promptly, engaged a house on Madison avenue, furnished it without regard to expense, and in less than a fortnight, installed her friends in it. Then she had a talk with Dan about his plans.

"Do you wish to remain in your place," she asked, "or would you like to obtain a better education first?"

"To obtain an education," said Dan, promptly.

"Then give notice to your employer of your intention."

Dan did so.

Mrs. Vernon in a second interview informed him that besides defraying his school expenses, she should give him an allowance of fifty dollars a month for his own personal needs.

"May I give a part of it to my mother?" asked Dan.

"No."

His countenance fell, but Mrs. Vernon smiled.

"You don't ask why I refuse," she said.

"I suppose you have a good reason," said Dan, dubiously.

"My reason is that I shall pay your mother double[Pg 289] this sum. Unless she is very extravagant it ought to be enough to defray her expenses."

"How liberal you are, Mrs. Vernon!" exclaimed Dan, in fresh astonishment.

"Mrs. Vernon!"

"Aunt Harriet, I mean."

"That is better."

All these important changes in the position of