CHAPTER XX
A BAD BUSINESS
Frank came down to the office the next morning looking haggard andtroubled. Stet was hanging around the door.
“Darry Haven told me to wait till you came down, and then let him know,”said the little fellow.
“All right,” nodded Frank in a dull way.
Stet darted off with his usual elfish nimbleness. Frank unlocked thedoor and sat down before his desk rather gloomily. He mechanicallyarranged some papers. Darry was with him before he had accomplishedmuch. Stet accompanied him.
“Well, Frank,” questioned Darry, “any word of Markham?”
“Not a trace, Darry.”
“Strange, isn’t it?” observed Darry in a musing way. “I declare I can’tunderstand it.”
“Nor I,” said Frank. “It’s him I’m thinking of, not of myself. Ihaven’t slept a wink all night. Honest, Darry, if he was an own brotherI couldn’t feel more anxious. Mother is quite as worried. I wenteverywhere about town last evening till the stores shut up. I telephonedseveral neighboring towns. I saw trainmen around the depot.”
“And found no one who had seen Markham after you sent him on that errandwith the money and the mailing lists?”
“Not a soul, Darry.”
“How do you explain it?”
“I can’t. I suppose some people who don’t know Markham as I do, wouldsay I was a fool to take up a stranger and put so much trust in him,that it served me right to have him run away with all I have in theworld first chance he got. Well, let me tell you, Darry, that boywouldn’t do me a wrong turn wilfully for a million dollars, and I knowit.”
Darry sighed and was silent. He had liked Markham, but his youngbusiness career had brought him in contact with so many weak andabsolutely bad people, that secretly he feared that Markham had yieldedto temptation, and they would not hear of him again.
“Have you no theory as to the reason why Markham should be missing somysteriously?” he asked.
“Why, yes, I have, in a way, Darry,” responded Frank, “but it is allguess-work. I told you last night about some secret in his life.”
“Yes, I know,” nodded Darry.
“I also told you that I was convinced that Dale Wacker knew Markham, andthat Markham for some reason dreaded meeting him.”
“It certainly looked that way, judging from Markham’s actions.”
“Very well, I think they ran into each other after Markham went on theerrand to you. Wacker is a blackmailer, as his talk to me about thepuzzle plainly shows. Does he know something about Markham that mightmake him trouble? It certainly looks that way. He may have terrorizedMarkham into running away.”
“All right, if that is true, then Markham, if he is an honest boy, willsend back your money and the mailing lists.”
“Of course he will,” declared Frank. “I’ve been expecting to receivethem every hour.”
“And if he doesn’t,” suggested Darry, somewhat skeptically.
“If he doesn’t,” repeated Frank, slowly but steadily, “then make up yourmind to one thing.”
“And what is that?”
“That Markham is in the power of some one who holds him a prisoner, andcan’t get word to me.”
“H’m,” said Darry simply. Frank’s eyes flashed.
“Furthermore,” he went on, “assuming that, I shall make it my businessto investigate along that line, I shall never lose faith in Markham’shonesty and fidelity to me till I have used every endeavor to find outwhen, where and why he dropped out of sight so mysteriously.”
“You’re a staunch friend, you are,” commented Darry. “In the meantime,though, Frank, your capital is gone. Worse than that, the whole basis ofyour business has gone with it.”
“Yes, the mailing lists,” said Frank. “I’ve thought that all out, Darry.You will have to stop work on the catalogue and the rest of theprinting. I can’t pay for the work.”
“We’ll trust you.”
“No,” said Frank steadily, “I can’t run into debt.”
“We might spare a little cash till--till you hear from the other.”
“I won’t involve my friends. I have planned it all out. My mother iscoming down to the office to take care of the little business that willcome in from the advertising.”
“And what will you do?” asked Darry curiously.
“I have arranged to hire a horse and wagon. I shall go out and visitsmall towns and sell from door to door, or even from the wagon, till Ihear from that missing money, or get on my feet again.”
“You’re a good one,” pronounced Darry with an admiring sparkle in hiseye, slapping Frank heartily on the shoulder. “You’re a stubborn one,too, so I won’t intrude offers of assistance only to be turned down.”
“All the time,” resumed Frank, “I shall be looking out for a trace ofMarkham. See here, Darry, I can’t get that Dale Wacker off my mind. Whoare his companions? Where does he hang out? How am I going to set awatch on him?”
“He may not even be in town,” suggested Darry. “You know Bob and I wentall over Pleasantville last evening, like yourself seeking a trace ofMarkham. It looked as if Wacker had flashed into town and out again. Wedidn’t run across him, and we didn’t find anybody who had seen him sincelate in the afternoon.”
“Say, can I speak a word?” piped in an anxious voice.
It was little Stet who had spoken. Frank and Darry had forgotten allabout him. Now Stet got up timorously from the door step.
“Oh, it’s you,” said Darry. “Heard all we’ve said, too, I suppose,Stet?”
“Yes, I have,” replied Stet. “Had to--ought to--I’m interested, I am. Ilike you. I like Mr. Newton. You’re both my friends. I like Markham,too. He gave Hemp Carson, the _Eagle_ manager, a setting down forpitching onto me. I don’t like Dale Wacker. Huh! hadn’t ought to. Herobbed me of two dollars once. Well, Dale Wacker is in Pleasantville. Isaw him this morning. He came in on a farmer’s wagon from somewhere outof town.”
“That’s news, anyway,” said Darry.
“You were going to give me my regular ten days’ vacation next week, youknow,” continued Stet to Darry. “Make it begin to-day, and I’ll soonfind out for you all there is to find out about Dale Wacker’s doings.”
“But that is hardly a vacation, Stet?” suggested Frank.
“It will be,” chuckled the little fellow, “if I can get my two dollars’worth of satisfaction out of him by showing him up.”
“All right,” said Darry, “try it, Stet, if you want to.”
Stet went away forthwith. Frank went into details with Darry as to themail order business. It must remain partially inactive until somethingencouraging developed.
The morning mail was a pretty good one. About ten o’clock Mrs. Ismondcame down to the office, and Frank initiated his mother into thebusiness routine.
“Just get the mail each day, and fill what orders you can,” said Frank.“When you can’t fill an order, return the money. You see, mother, I wantto take the bulk of stock on hand with me for quick sales, and I can’torder any more until I get some money ahead.”
Frank put in two hours about town trying to look up Markham. The resultwas quite as discouraging as upon the day previous. He closed anarrangement for the hire of a horse and a light wagon, and packed upsome goods at the office, ready for his trip into the country.
Mrs. Ismond, with a woman’s instinctive capacity for neatness, had theoffice in attractive order by late afternoon, and all the work attendedto.
“Don’t get discouraged, Frank,” she said, as they were on their wayhome. “It won’t take a great deal of money to keep up the business in asmall way. I sent out a hundred circulars this afternoon, and I willkeep on at that average while you are away.”
“Why,” spoke Frank, “how can you do that, with no mailing listaddresses?”
“Oh, I set my wits at work and made quite a discovery,” responded Mrs.Ismond with a bright smile. “The Pleasantville _Herald_ has quite a listof exchanges. I ask
ed Darry to send me some. They come from all over theState. I selected a number of promising names from little news items inthe papers. For instance: I took girls’ names from church and societyitems, and boys’ names from baseball club items and the like. Good,fresh names, Frank--don’t you see?”
“I do see,” said Frank, “and it’s a grand idea, mother.”
After supper Mrs. Ismond went upstairs to make up a little parcel ofcollars, handkerchiefs and the like for her son’s journey.
Frank looked up from the county map from which he was formulating aroute, as his mother reappeared. At a glance he saw that she was verymuch agitated.
“Oh, Frank!” she panted, sinking into a chair pale anddistressed-looking.
“Why, what’s the matter, mother?” exclaimed Frank, arising quickly tohis feet.
Mrs. Ismond had a worn yellow sheet of paper in her hand.
“Markham,” she said, in a sad, pained way. “I was getting out someneckties for you, and by mistake opened the bureau drawer where he kepthis belongings. I found this.”
“What is it, mother?” asked Frank, taking the paper from her hand. Hesaw for himself, and his face turned quite as white and troubled as herown.
“Too bad--too bad,” said Frank, looking down at the time-worn sheet ofpaper in a disheartened way.