CHAPTER XXV.
JOE VISITS CHICAGO.
Joe found Millville a sleepy town of three or four hundred inhabitants.There was one main street containing two blocks of stores, a blacksmithshop, a creamery and two churches.
When he stepped off the train our hero was eyed sharply by the loungersabout the platform.
"Anything I can' do for you?" asked one of the men, the driver of thelocal stage.
"Will you tell me where Mr. Joseph Korn lives?"
"Joe lives up in the brown house yonder. But he ain't home now. He'sdoing a job of carpentering."
"Can you tell me where?"
"Up to the Widow Fallow's place. Take you there for ten cents."
"Very well," and our hero jumped into the rickety turnout which went bythe name of the Millville stage.
The drive was not a long one and soon they came to a halt in front ofa residence where a man wearing a carpenter's apron was mending abroken-down porch.
"There's Joe," said the stage driver, laconically.
The man looked up in wonder when Joe approached him. He dropped hishammer and stood with his arms on his hips.
"This is Mr. Joseph Korn, I believe?"
"That's me, young man."
"I am Joe Bodley. You wrote to Mr. Talmadge, of Riverside, a few daysago. I came on to find out what I could about a Mr. William A. Bodleywho used to live here."
"Oh, yes! Well, young man, I can't tell you much more 'n I did in thatletter. Bodley sold out, house, goods and everything, and left for partsunknown."
"Did he have any relatives around here?"
"Not when he left. He had a wife and three children--a girl and twoboys--but they died."
"Did you ever hear of any relatives coming to see him--a man named HiramBodley?"
"Not me--but Augustus Greggs--who bought his farm--might know about it."
"I'll take you to the Greggs' farm for ten cents," put in the stagedriver.
Again a bargain was struck, and a drive of ten minutes brought them tothe farm, located on the outskirts of Millville. They found the farmowner at work by his wood pile, sawing wood. He was a pleasant appearingindividual.
"Come into the house," he said putting down his saw. "I'm glad tosee you," and when our hero had entered the little farmhouse he wasintroduced to Mrs. Greggs and two grown-up sons, all of whom made himfeel thoroughly at home.
"To tell the truth," said Mr. Greggs, "I did not know William Bodleyvery well. I came here looking for a farm and heard this was for sale,and struck a bargain with him."
"Was he alone at that time?" questioned Joe.
"He was, and his trouble seemed to have made him a bit queer--not butwhat he knew what he was doing."
"Did you learn anything about his family?"
"He had lost his wife and two children by disease. What had happenedto the other child was something of a mystery. I rather supposed it haddied while away from home, but I was not sure."
"Have you any idea at all what became of William Bodley?"
"Not exactly. Once I met a man in Pittsburg who had met a man of thatname in Idaho, among the mines. Both of us wondered if that William A.Bodley was the same that I had bought my farm from."
"Did he say what part of Idaho?"
"He did, but I have forgotten now. Do you think he was a relative ofyours?"
"I don't know what to think. It may be that he was my father.
"Your father?"
"Yes," and Joe told his story and mentioned the documents found in theblue tin box.
"It does look as if he might be your father," said Augustus Greggs."Maybe you're the child that was away from home at the time his otherchildren and his wife died."
"Do you think anybody else in this village would know anything moreabout this William Bodley?"
"No, I don't. But it won't do any harm to ask around. That stagedriver knows all the old inhabitants. Perhaps some of them can tell yousomething worth while."
Upon urgent invitation, Joe took dinner at the Greggs' farm and then setout to visit a number of folks who had lived in Millville and vicinityfor many years. All remembered William A. Bodley and his family, but notone could tell what had become of the man after he had sold out and goneaway.
"Maybe you had better advertise for him," suggested one man.
"It will cost a good deal to advertise all over the United States,"replied Joe; "and for all I know he may be dead or out of the country."
Joe remained in Millville two days and then took the train back to theEast. Ned was the first to greet him on his return to Riverside.
"What luck?" he asked, anxiously.
"None whatever," was the sober answer.
"Oh, Joe, that's too bad!"
"I am afraid I am stumped, Ned."
They walked to the Talmadge mansion, and that evening talked the matterover with Ned's father.
"I will arrange to have an advertisement inserted in a leading paper ofeach of our big cities," said Mr. Talmadge. "That will cost something,but not a fortune."
"You must let me pay for it," said our hero.
"No, Joe, you can put this down to Ned's credit--you two are such goodchums," and Mr. Talmadge smiled quietly.
The advertisements were sent out the following day, through anadvertising agent, and all waited for over two weeks for some reply, butnone came.
"It's no use," said Joe, and it must be admitted that he was muchdowncast.
In the meantime he had seen Andrew Mallison and the hotel man said hewould willingly hire him for the summer as soon as the season opened,and also give Frank Randolph a situation.
"You had better be my guest until that time," said Ned to our hero, whenhe heard of this.
"Thank you, Ned, but I don't wish to remain idle so long."
The very next mail after this talk brought news for our hero. A lettercame from Maurice Vane, asking him if he wished to go to Montana.
"I am now certain that that mine is valuable," wrote the gentleman. "Iam going to start West next Monday. If you wish to go with me I will payyour fare and allow you a salary of ten dollars per week to start on. Ithink later on, I will have a good opening for you."
"That settles it, I am going West!" cried Joe, as he showed the letterto his chum.
"Well, I don't blame you," was the reply. "I know just how nice it isout there. You'll be sure to get along."
Before going to bed Joe wired his acceptance of the offer, and in themorning received a telegram from Maurice Vane, asking him to go toChicago, to the Palmer House.
"That settles it, I'm off," said our hero, and bought a ticket for thegreat city by the lakes without delay. Then he said good-bye to theTalmadges and the Gussings, and boarded the train at sundown.
Joe was now getting used to traveling and no longer felt green and outof place. He had engaged a berth, and took his ease until it was timeto go to bed. Arriving at Chicago he made his way without delay to thePalmer House.
He found the hotel crowded and had some difficulty in getting a room.Mr. Maurice Vane had not yet arrived.
"I guess I'll leave a note for him," thought our hero, and saunteredinto the reading-room to pen the communication.
While Joe was writing, two men came into the room and sat down behind apillar that was close at hand. They were in earnest conversation and hecould not help but catch what was said.
"You say he is coming West?" said one of the pair.
"Yes,--he started yesterday."
"And he has found out that the mine is really valuable?"
"I think so. Anyway he is quite excited about it. He sent a telegram tothat boy, too."
"The hotel boy you mean?"
"Yes."
So the talk ran on and Joe at length got up to take a look at the twomen. They were Gaff Caven and Pat Malone. At once our hero drew out ofsight again.
"How can you get the best of Vane, Gaff?" asked Malone, after a pause.
"There is but one way, Malone."
"And that is?"
&
nbsp; "Can I trust you?"
"Haven't you trusted me before?"
"We must--" Caven paused. "We won't talk about it in this public place.Come to my room and I'll lay my plan before you."
Then the two arose and left the reading-room as rapidly as they hadentered it.