Jack's Ward; Or, The Boy Guardian, Jr. Horatio Alger [top books to read .TXT] 📗

down his knife and fork. "Do you think I can get it?"

"You'd better try. The gang has managed matters so shrewdly that the authorities have been unable to get any clew to their whereabouts. Can you go to the house?"

"Yes; I took particular notice of its location."

"That's lucky. Now, if you take my advice, you'll inform the authorities before they have time to get away."

"I'll do it!" said Jack. "Come along, uncle."

Fifteen minutes later, Jack was imparting his information to the chief of police. It was received with visible interest and excitement.

"I will detail a squad of men to go with you," said the chief. "Go at once. No time is to be lost."

In less than an hour from the time Jack left the haunt of the coiners, an authoritative knock was heard at the door.

It was answered by Foley.

The old man turned pale as he set eyes on Jack and the police, and comprehended the object of the visit.

"What do you want, gentlemen?" he asked.

"Is that the man?" asked the sergeant of Jack.

"Yes."

"Secure him."

"I know him," said Foley, with a glance of hatred directed at Jack. "He's a thief. He's been in my employ, but he's run away with fifty dollars belonging to me."

"I don't care about stealing the kind of money you deal in," said Jack, coolly. "It's all a lie this man tells you."

"Why do you arrest me?" said Foley. "It's an outrage. You have no right to enter my house like this."

"What is your business?" demanded the police sergeant.

"I'm a physician."

"If you are telling the truth, no harm will be done you. Meanwhile, we must search your house. Where is that secret staircase?"

"I'll show you," answered Jack.

He showed the way upstairs.

"How did you get out?" he asked Foley, as he touched the spring, and the secret door flew open.

"Curse you!" exclaimed Foley, darting a look of hatred and malignity at him. "I wish I had you in my power once more. I treated you too well."

We need not follow the police in their search. The discoveries which they made were ample to secure the conviction of the gang who made this house the place of their operations. To anticipate a little, we may say that Foley was sentenced to imprisonment for a term of years, and his subordinates to a term less prolonged. The reader will also be glad to know that to our hero was awarded the prize of a thousand dollars which had been offered for the apprehension of the gang of counterfeiters.

But there was another notable capture made that day.

Mrs. Hardwick was accustomed to make visits to Foley to secure false bills, and to make settlement for what she had succeeded in passing off.

While Jack and the officers were in the house she rang the door bell.

Jack went to the door.

"How is this?" she asked.

"Oh," said Jack, "it's all right. Come in. I've gone into the business, too."

Mrs. Hardwick entered. No sooner was she inside than Jack closed the door.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, suspiciously. "Let me out."

But Jack was standing with his back to the door. The door to the right opened, and a policeman appeared.

"Arrest this woman," said Jack. "She's one of them."

"I suppose I must yield," said Peg, sulkily; "but you shan't be a gainer by it," she continued, addressing Jack.

"Where is Ida?" asked our hero, anxiously.

"She is safe," said Peg, sententiously.

"You won't tell me where she is?"

"No; why should I? I suppose I am indebted to you for this arrest. She shall be kept out of your way as long as I have power to do so."

"Then I shall find her," said Jack. "She is somewhere in the city, and I'll find her sooner or later."

Peg was not one to betray her feelings, but this arrest was a great disappointment to her. It interfered with a plan she had of making a large sum out of Ida. To understand what this was, we must go back a day or two, and introduce a new character.

CHAPTER XXXI MR. JOHN SOMERVILLE

Jack's appearance on the scene had set Mrs. Hardwick to thinking. This was the substance of her reflections: Ida, whom she had kidnaped for certain reasons of her own, was likely to prove an incumbrance rather than a source of profit. The child, her suspicions awakened in regard to the character of the money she had been employed to pass off, was no longer available for that purpose.

Under these circumstances Peg bethought herself of the ultimate object which she had proposed to herself in kidnaping Ida—that of extorting money from a man who has not hitherto figured in our story.

John Somerville occupied a suite of apartments in a handsome lodging house in Walnut Street. A man wanting yet several years of forty, he looked many years older than that age. Late hours and dissipated habits, though kept within respectable limits, left their traces on his face. At twenty-one he inherited a considerable fortune, which, combined with some professional income—for he was a lawyer, and not without ability—was quite sufficient to support him handsomely, and leave a considerable surplus every year. But latterly he had contracted a passion for gaming, and, shrewd though he might be naturally, he could hardly be expected to prove a match for the wily habitues of the gaming table, who had marked him for their prey.

The evening before his introduction to the reader he had passed till a late hour at a fashionable gaming house, where he had lost heavily.

His reflections on waking were not the most pleasant. For the first time within fifteen years he realized the folly and imprudence of the course he had pursued. The evening previous he had lost a thousand dollars, for which he had given his IOU. Where to raise the money he did not know. After making his toilet, he rang the bell and ordered