Joe the Hotel Boy

JOE MAKES A DISCOVERY.

“Who are Caven and Malone?” asked the conductor of the train, while a number of passengers gathered around, to hear what Maurice Vane and our hero might have to say.

“They are two rascals who are trying to do me out of my share of a mine,” explained Maurice Vane.  “I had my mining shares in that satchel.”

“If you wish I’ll telegraph back to Snapwood for you,” went on the train official.

“How many miles is that?”

“A little over two hundred.”

“What is the next stop of this train?”

“Leadington.”

“When will we get there?”

“In ten minutes.”

A telegram was prepared and sent back to Snapwood as soon as Leadington was reached.  The train was held for five minutes and it was learned that nobody had been seen at the station there at three in the morning, as the night operator and station master were away, there being no passengers to get on the train bound West.

Maurice Vane was much disturbed and did not know what to do.

“To go back and look for them at Snapwood may be a mere waste of time,” said he.  “On the other hand, I don’t feel much like going on while the shares are out of my possession.”

“If you wish it, Mr. Vane, I’ll go back,” said Joe.  “You can go ahead, and if anything turns up I will telegraph to you.”

This pleased the gentleman, and he said Joe could go back on the very next train.  The conductor was again consulted, and our hero left the train bound West a quarter of an hour later.

“Here is some money,” said Maurice Vane on parting.  “You’ll need it.”  And he handed over two hundred dollars.

“Oh, Mr. Vane! will I need as much as this?”

“Perhaps.  If you see those rascals you may have a long chase to capture them.  Do not hesitate to spend the money if it appears necessary to do so.”

Long before noon our hero was on the way East on a train scheduled to stop at Snapwood.  He went without his dress-suit case and carried his money in four different pockets.

The train was almost empty and the riding proved decidedly lonely.  In a seat he found an Omaha paper, but he was in no humor for reading.  When noon came he took his time eating his dinner, so that the afternoon’s ride might not appear so lasting.

About half-past two o’clock the train came to an unexpected halt.

Looking out of the window Joe saw that they were in something of a cut, close to the edge of a woods.

The delay continued, and presently one passenger after another alighted, to learn the meaning of the hold-up.  Joe did likewise, and walked through the cut toward the locomotive.

The mystery was easily explained.  On one side of the cut the bank had toppled over the tracks, carrying with it two trees of good size.  A number of train hands were already at work, sawing the trees into pieces, so that they might be shifted clear of the tracks.

Joe watched the men laboring for a few minutes and then walked up the bank, to get a look at the surroundings.  Then he heard a whistle and saw a train approaching from the opposite direction.  It came to a halt a few hundred feet away.

As the delay continued our hero walked along the bank of the cut and up to the newly-arrived train.  The latter was crowded with passengers, some of whom also got out.

“Did that train stop at Snapwood?” he asked of one of the passengers.

“It did,” was the answer.

“Did you see anybody get on?”

“No, but somebody might have gotten on.  I wasn’t looking.”

“Thank you.”

“Looking for a friend?”

“No,” said Joe, and moved on.

Without delay our hero ran to the front end of the newly-arrived train and got aboard.  As he walked through he gave every grown passenger a close look.

At the end of the third car he came upon two suspicious-looking individuals, who were gazing at a bit of paper in the hands of one.  Joe came closer and saw that the paper was a mining share.

“Caven and Malone, as sure as fate!” he murmured to himself.  “What had I best do next?”

While Joe was trying to make up his mind, Caven chanced to glance up and his eyes fell upon our hero.  He gave a cry of dismay and thrust the mining share out of sight.

“What’s the matter?” asked Malone in a low tone.

“Look there, Pat!  That boy!”

“No!”

“But it is!”

“How did he get on this train?”

“I don’t know.  But it’s unpleasant enough for us.”

“Do you suppose Vane is around?” asked Malone, nervously.

“He may be.”

The two men stared around the car.  Only some women and children were present, the men having gone out to learn the cause of the delay.

“Perhaps we had better get out,” went on Malone.

“All right.”

They arose, and, satchel in hand, started to leave the train.

“Stop!” cried Joe, and caught Caven by the arm.

“Let go of me, boy!” ejaculated the rascal, and tried to pull himself loose.

“I won’t let go, Gaff Caven.”

“If you don’t, it will be the worse for you!  I am not to be trifled with!”

“You must give up that satchel.”

“Bah!”

“If you don’t, I’m going to have you arrested.”

“Who is going to arrest me here?” sneered the man who had robbed Maurice Vane.  “Don’t you know we are miles away from any town?”

“I don’t care.  Give up the satchel, or I’ll call the train hands.”

“I’ll give up nothing, boy!  Stand out of my way!”

Gaff Caven gave Joe a violent shove which sent our hero up against a seat.  Then he turned and ran from the car, with Pat Malone ahead of him.

“Stop them!” cried Joe, as soon as he could recover.  “Stop the thieves!”

Others took up the cry, but before anything could be done Caven and Malone were out of the car and on to the tracks.  Both stared around in perplexity for a second.

“Come on, we can’t afford to waste time here!” cried Caven, and ran for the bank of the cut, up which he scrambled hastily, with his confederate at his side.

Joe saw them make the move and was not slow to follow.  Near at hand was a tall, western young man, with bronzed features and a general outdoor manner.

“Say!” cried our hero.  “Will you help me to catch those two men?  They are thieves and I want them arrested.  If you’ll help me catch them I’ll pay you well for your trouble.”

“I’ll go you, stranger!” answered the western young man, readily.  “You are certain of your game?”

“Yes.  That satchel has their plunder in it.  They robbed a friend of mine.”

“This suits me then, friend.  We’ll round ’em up in short order.”

By this time Caven and Malone had gained the woods.  Looking back they saw Joe coming behind, accompanied by the westerner.

“He’s after us, and he has got somebody to help him,” ejaculated Malone.

“Well, I reckon we can run as fast as they can,” answered Gaff Caven.  “Come ahead!”

He led the way along a trail that ran through the woods and came out on a winding country road.  Beyond was another patch of timber.

“This way, Pat,” said he.  “We’ll have to take to the woods again.  They are too close for comfort.”

“Can’t we climb a tree, or hide in a hollow?” questioned the confederate.

“We’ll see,” said Caven.

They pushed on harder than ever, and passed in among some tall trees.  Then they came to a tree that was bent over.

“Up you go,” cried Caven, and gave his confederate a boost into the tree.  Then he hauled himself up.

“Now climb to the top,” he went on, and Malone did as requested.  Caven followed suit, and both hid themselves among the thick branches.

“They won’t find us here,” said Malone, after ten minutes had passed.

“Don’t make a noise,” whispered Caven.

After that they remained silent.  From a great distance came a shouting, and the whistling of locomotives.  The trees were being hauled from the car tracks.  A little later they heard more whistling and then the two trains passed on their way.

“The trains have gone,” whispered Malone.  “Do you think the boy got aboard one of them?”

“No, I don’t,” answered his companion.  “He is too determined a lad to give up so easily.  He must be still looking for us.”