Dave Porter on Cave Island/Chapter 12
CHAPTER XII
THE TELLTALE CIGARETTE BOX
The watchman was indeed in bad shape. He had been found thrown under a workbench, and just returning to consciousness. He had a cut over his left ear and another on his forehead, from which the blood had flowed freely.
"Must have struck him with a club, or an iron bar," was the opinion of the chief, as the injured man was carried into the office and placed on some chair cushions. Here his wounds were washed and bound up, while one officer ran to get a doctor who lived not a great distance off.
It was some little time before Tony Wells, who was nearly seventy years of age, opened his eyes to stare around him.
"Don't—don't hit me again!" he murmured. "I—I didn't touch you!"
"It's all right, Tony!" said the chief. "Those fellows are gone. You're among friends."
"They—knocked me down!" gasped the old watchman. "I—I—tried to telephone—after the explosion, but—but" He could not go on, and suddenly relapsed again into unconsciousness.
"Poor fellow!" said Mr. Wadsworth, tenderly. "We must do what we can for him."
"Is anything missing besides the jewels?" asked Dave, while they were waiting for the doctor to come, and waiting to hear from the others who had gone out.
"No, Dave. But that is enough. If they are not recovered, I shall be ruined."
"Can they hold you responsible for the loss?"
"Yes, for when I took the jewels to re-set I guaranteed the safe return of each jewel. I had to do that because they were afraid some workmen might try to substitute other jewels not so good—which is sometimes done."
"And you said they were worth seventy-five thousand dollars?"
"All of that."
"Those robbers certainly made a haul."
"It drives me crazy to think about it," groaned Oliver Wadsworth.
"Perhaps the others who went out will catch them," answered our hero, hopefully.
Soon the doctor arrived and took charge of old Tony Wells, whom he knew well. As Wells was a widower, living alone, the doctor said he would take the old man to his own home, where he could have constant attention.
"He is already in a fever," said the physician. "We had better not try to question him at present. It will only excite him the more." And a little later the sufferer was placed on a litter and carried to the doctor's residence.
By this time the news was circulating that the Wadsworth jewelry works had been robbed, and many persons spent the rest of the night looking for the two young men who were supposed to be guilty of the crime. Oliver Wadsworth and an officer remained at the offices, guarding the wrecked place and looking for clews of the evildoers. But nothing in the way of evidence against the robbers was brought to light, excepting that they had used several drills and some dynamite on the two old safes, probably blowing them up simultaneously. They had taken the tool-bag with its contents with them and also another small valise, belonging to one of Mr. Wadsworth's traveling salesmen.
"I can't understand why Tony Wells didn't discover them when they first came in," said Dave.
"Maybe he did and they made him a prisoner," suggested Mr. Wadsworth. "Tony was very faithful—the best watchman I ever had."
Daylight came at last and still the search for the two robbers was kept up. In the meantime, telegrams and telephone messages had been sent in all directions. To stimulate the searchers Mr. Wadsworth offered a reward of one thousand dollars for the recovery of the jewels and this reward was later on increased to five thousand dollars.
When Tony Wells was well enough to tell his story he said he had been going the rounds of the works when he suddenly found himself confronted by two masked men. He had started to cry out and run for help when the men had seized him and thrown him down and bound him fast to a work-bench. Then the men had gone to the offices, and later on had come the explosion. He knew they were blowing open the safes and did what he could to free himself. At last he managed to get free, but found himself too weak to run for help. He had dragged himself to the telephone in the shipping-room and was sending his message to Mr. Wadsworth when the masked men had again appeared and knocked him down. That was all he remembered until the time he was found, as already described.
"You did not see the faces of the two men?" asked Oliver Wadsworth.
"No, sir, they were all covered with black masks. But I think the fellows was rather younglike," answered the old watchman. "Both of 'em was about the size of Dave Porter,—but neither of 'em was Dave,—I know that by the voices," he went on, hastily.
"No, Dave was at home with me," said Oliver Wadsworth. "But he and one of his friends passed the works just before the explosion."
The news of the robbery had upset the Wadsworth household completely. Mrs. Wadsworth was as much distressed as her husband, and Jessie was as pale as if seriously ill.
"Oh, Dave, supposing the jewels are not recovered!" said Jessie, when they met in the hallway. "It will ruin father,—I heard him tell mamma so!"
"We are going to get them back—we've simply got to do it," Dave replied.
"But how? Nobody seems to know what has become of the robbers."
"Oh, just wait, Jessie. We are sure to get some trace of them sooner or later."
"What makes you so hopeful, Dave?" and now the girl suddenly clutched his arm. "Have you a clew?"
"I think so, but I am not sure. I am going to talk to your father about it, and then I am going to take another look around Crumville and around the offices."
Dave's father and his Uncle Dunston had been out all day, and so had Phil and Roger and Ben, and a score of others, including the officers of the law. But nothing had been seen or heard of the mysterious men with the tool-bag. Another tramp had been rounded up, but he knew absolutely nothing of the crime and was let go again.
Oliver Wadsworth's face was white and drawn and he looked as if he had suddenly grown five years older. He had a long, private conversation with Dave's father and Dunston Porter, and all three men looked very grave when the conference came to an end.
There was good cause for this seriousness. The new addition to the jewelry works had placed Mr. Wadsworth in debt. The Porters had lent him twenty thousand dollars, and, just then, could lend him no more, having a number of obligations of their own to meet.
The Carwith jewels were the property of Mr. and Mrs. Ridgeway Osgood Carwith, of Fifth Avenue, New York City. The Carwiths were now on a trip around the world, but were expected home some time in the spring. Mr. Wadsworth had agreed to re-set the jewels according to designs already accepted by the millionaire and his wife, and had guaranteed the safe return of the jewels, re-set as specified, not later than the first of the following May. As the millionaire was a strict business man he had demanded a bond for the safe return of his property, and this bond had been given by Mr. Wadsworth, indorsed by David Breslow Porter and Dunston Porter.
Thus it will readily be seen that the millionaire and his wife were amply secured. If they did not get the jewels back they would demand the payment of the bond, worth seventy-five thousand dollars, and Mr. Wadsworth and the Porters would have to make good.
On the second day after the robbery, Dave, Roger, and Phil went down to the jewelry works and began a close investigation on their own account. Dave had mentioned something to his chums that had caused chem to open their eyes in astonishment.
An hour was spent around the offices, and then Phil picked up an empty cigarette case. He took it to Dave and Roger and both looked at it with keen interest.
"I guess that is another clew," said our hero. "Let us look around some more."
"I'm going for the train now," said the senator's son, a little later. "And as soon as I find Hooker Montgomery I'll let you know."
"Yes, and make him come here, whether he wants to or not," cried Dave.
"You leave that to me," answered Roger, grimly.
Oliver Wadsworth had been interviewing a private detective, and soon the man left, stating he thought he could lay his hands on the guilty parties.
"I'll look for Tom Basnett," said the detective. "This looks like one of his jobs."
"I don't care whose job it is—I want the jewels back," said Mr. Wadsworth, wearily. He had not slept since the crime had been committed.
"Mr. Wadsworth, Phil and I would like to talk to you in private," said Dave, when he could get the chance.
"You have some clew, Dave?"
"Well, I want to tell you something, and then you can judge for yourself."
"Very well, come with me," answered the manufacturer, and led the way to a little side-room, used by the salesmen for exhibiting wares to possible customers.
"I want to tell you all about something that happened early in the winter, while I was at Oak Hall," said Dave. And then he told of how he had called on the fake doctor, Hooker Montgomery, and how he had been attacked from behind and made a prisoner, and carried off to a house in the woods, the particulars of which have already been set down in "Dave Porter and His Rivals."
"The fellows who carried me off were the doctor and the driver, who was only a tool, and two fellows who have caused me a lot of trouble in the past, Nick Jasniff and Link Merwell," went on our hero. "When I got away I tried to follow up Jasniff and Mcrwell, but they got away from me, and so did the driver get away. But one day I found Hooker Montgomery, and by threatening to have him arrested I made him confess to the truth, which was that Jasniff and Merwell had hired him to help get me in their power. At first they told Montgomery it was only a schoolboy trick, and he said he believed them, but, later on, it leaked out that Jasniff and Merweil had another motive in making me a prisoner."
"And that motive?" began Oliver Wadsworth, with deep interest.
"Doctor Montgomery said that Jasniff and Merwell had in mind to drug me and take me to some place a good distance from Oak Hall. He said he also heard them speak of robbing a jewelry works, and I was to be drugged and left in the factory,—to make it appear as if I had done the deed and as if the blowing up of a safe had stunned me."
"Dave, is this possible!" exclaimed the manufacturer.
"It is true, Mr. Wadsworth," said Phil. "I was along and so was Roger at the time. Montgomery couldn't give many details, but he said he thought Jasniff and Merwell were cold-blooded villains and he wanted nothing more to do with them."
"This looks as if those rascals, Jasniff and Merwell, had come here."
"I believe they did come," went on Dave. "And here is one clew we have already picked up against them." And he held up the empty cigarette box.
"What is that? Only a cigarette box. How can that be a clew?"
"I will tell you. Both Jasniff and Merwell are inveterate cigarette smokers. I have seen them smoking many times. They smoke a Turkish brand of cigarettes, having a peculiar blue and gold band around the box. This is the same kind of a box, and I am convinced that this box was emptied and thrown away in your offices by Jasniff or Merwell."