Joe the Hotel Boy

THE BLUE BOX AT LAST.

After calling on the Gussings and being invited to remain there for several days, Joe took himself to Ned Talmadge’s residence.

Ned was very glad to see him and had to give all the particulars of another trip he had made to the West.

“I had a splendid time,” said Ned.  “I wish you had been along.”

“Then you like the West, Ned?”

“Indeed I do,—­better than the East.”

“Perhaps I’ll go West some day,” went on our hero, and told his friend of what Maurice Vane had said.

“I saw some mines while I was out there,” continued Ned.  “I went to the very bottom of one mine.  I can tell you I felt a bit shivery, being so far underground.”

“I suppose the miners get used to it.”

“It would be a joke on those swindlers if that mine should prove of value,” went on Ned, after a pause.

“I hope, for Mr. Vane’s sake, it does prove valuable.”

“Now your hotel is burnt out, what are you going to do?”

“I haven’t made up my mind, Ned.  Perhaps I’ll come back here, to work for Mr. Mallison.”

“Then we’ll be together again next summer.  That will suit me.”

The boys had a good time together and then Joe said he would like to pay a visit to his old home on the mountain side.  Ned readily consented to go along.

“But I don’t imagine you’ll find much of the old cabin left,” he added.

There was still a little ice in the lake, but they rowed to the spot without great difficulty and made their way to the tumble-down cabin.

It was not an inviting sight and it made Joe feel sober to view the locality.

“Joe, you never heard anything of that blue box, did you?” asked Ned, after several minutes of silence.

“No.”

“It ought to be somewhere in this vicinity.”

“It’s gone, and that is all there is to it,” said our hero, and gave a long sigh.

The boys tramped around the vicinity for a good half hour, and then sat down on a hollow log to eat a lunch they had brought along.

“Let us build a fire beside the old log,” said Ned.  “It will help to keep us warm.”

Joe was willing and the two boys soon had some leaves and twigs gathered, and placed some good-sized branches on top to make the blaze last.  Then they began to eat and to warm themselves at the same time.

“This log would make a good hiding-place for some wild animal,” remarked Ned.  “Can anything be inside?”

“It’s not likely, Ned.  The smoke would drive out any living creature.”

“I’m going to get a stick and poke into the log.”

Both boys procured sticks and began to poke at the log.  Presently they felt something move and a half-dazed snake came into view.

“There’s your animal, Ned!” exclaimed Joe.

“Oh, a snake!  Keep him away!” roared Ned, badly frightened.

“He can’t hurt you—­he is too stiff from the cold,” answered our hero, and quickly dispatched the snake with a stone.

“Do you suppose there are any more in the tree?” asked the rich boy, still keeping at a distance.

“More than likely.  I’ll poke around with my stick and see.”

“Be careful!”

“I am not afraid.”

Joe’s stick had something of a crotch on the end of it and with this he began to rake among the dead leaves that had blown into the hollow log.  He brought out a great quantity but no more snakes showed themselves.

“I reckon he was the only one after all, Ned.”

“The log is burning!” said Ned, an instant later.  “See, the smoke is coming out of the hollow.”

“My stick is caught,” said Joe, pulling hard on something.  “I guess—­well, I declare!”

He gave a jerk, and from the hollow came a square object, covered with smoking dirt and leaves.

“What is it?”

“Unless I am mistaken, it is a tin box.”

“Oh, Joe, the blue box?”

Joe did not answer for he was brushing the smoking leaves and dirt from the object.  As he cleaned it off he caught sight of some blue paint.  On one end the box was badly charred from the fire.

“It’s the blue box, sure enough,” said Joe.

“And we came close to burning it up!” groaned Ned.  “Oh, Joe, I am so sorry!”

“It’s not your fault, Ned, I was as much to blame as anybody.  But who would look for the box out here?”

“Perhaps some wild animal carried it off.”

“That may be.”

Joe had the box cleaned off by this time.  It was still hot at one end and smoking.  He tried to pull it open, but found it locked.

“The contents will burn up before I can open it!” cried Joe.

He did not know what to do, and in desperation began to pry at the box with his stick and his jackknife.  Then the box broke open, scattering some half-burnt papers in all directions.

The boys picked the papers up and also a small bag of buckskin.  When Joe opened the bag he found it contained exactly a hundred dollars in gold.

“That’s a nice find,” said Ned.  “Anyway, you are a hundred dollars richer than you were.”

Joe began to peruse the half-burnt documents but could make little or nothing out of them.  He saw his own name and also that of a certain William A. Bodley, and an estate in Iowa was mentioned.

“What do you find, Joe?”

“I can’t tell you, Ned.  The papers are too badly burnt.”

“Let me look at them.”

Our hero was willing, and the two boys spent an hour in trying to decipher the documents.

“It is certainly a puzzle,” said the rich boy.  “Why not let my father look over them?”

Joe was willing, and after wrapping up the documents with care, and pocketing the hundred dollars in gold, Joe led the way back to the boat.  The wreck of the blue box was left behind, for it was rusty and worthless.

That evening Mr. Talmadge, Ned and Joe spent two hours in going over the documents and trying to supply the parts which had been rotted or burnt away.  They were only successful in part.

“I do not wish to say much about this, Joe,” said Ned’s father.  “But it would seem from these papers that you are the son of one William A. Bodley, who at one time owned a farm in Iowa, in the township of Millville.  Did you ever hear Hiram Bodley speak of this?”

“Never.”

“We might write to the authorities at Millville and see what they have to say.”

“I wish you’d do it.  They may pay more attention to you than to a boy.”

“I’ll write at once.”

“Father, hadn’t Joe better stay here until we get a reply?” put in Ned.

“He may do so and welcome,” answered Mr. Talmadge.

The letter was dispatched the next day and our hero waited anxiously for the reply.  It came five days later and was as follows: 

“Your letter of inquiry received.  There was a William A. Bodley in this township twelve years ago.  He sold his farm to a man named Augustus Greggs and then disappeared.  Before he sold out he lost his wife and several children by sickness.  Nobody here seems to know what became of him.

“Joseph Korn.”

“That is short and to the point,” said Mr. Talmadge, “but it is not satisfying.  It does not state if this William A. Bodley had any relatives so far as known.”

“I guess the authorities did not want to bother about the matter,” said Joe.

“Why don’t you visit Millville, Joe?” questioned Ned.

“I was thinking I could do that.  It wouldn’t cost a fortune, and I’ve got that hundred dollars in gold to fall back on, besides my regular savings.”

“You might learn something to your advantage,” came from Mr. Talmadge.  “I think it would be money well spent.”

“Father, can’t I go with Joe?” asked Ned.

“No, Ned, you must attend to your school duties.”

“Then, Joe, you must send me full particulars by mail,” said the rich boy.

“Of course I’ll do that, Ned,” replied our hero.

It was arranged that Joe should leave Riverside on Monday and Ned went to the depot to see him off.

“I wish you the best of luck, Joe!” called out Ned, as the train left the station.  “I don’t know of a fellow who deserves better luck than you do!”