CHAPTER XXIII
JACK OBTAINS INFORMATION
Jack set out with that lightness of heart and keen sense of enjoymentthat seem natural to a young man of eighteen on his first journey.Partly by boat, partly by cars, he traveled, till in a few hours he wasdischarged, with hundreds of others, at the depot in Philadelphia.
He rejected all invitations to ride, and strode on, carpetbag in hand,though, sooth to say, he had very little idea whether he was steering inthe right direction for his uncle's shop. By dint of diligent andpersevering inquiry he found it at last, and walking in, announcedhimself to the worthy baker as his nephew Jack.
"What? Are you Jack?" exclaimed Mr. Abel Harding, pausing in his labor."Well, I never should have known you, that's a fact. Bless me, howyou've grown! Why, you're 'most as big as your father, ain't you?"
"Only half an inch shorter," answered Jack, complacently.
"And you're--let me see--how old are you?"
"Eighteen; that is, almost. I shall be in two months."
"Well, I'm glad to see you, Jack, though I hadn't the least idea of yourraining down so unexpectedly. How's your father and mother and youradopted sister?"
"Father and mother are pretty well," answered Jack; "and so is AuntRachel," he continued, smiling, "though she ain't so cheerful as shemight be."
"Poor Rachel!" said Abel, smiling also. "Everything goes contrary withher. I don't suppose she's wholly to blame for it. Folks differconstitutionally. Some are always looking on the bright side of things,and others can never see but one side, and that's the dark one."
"You've hit it, uncle," said Jack, laughing. "Aunt Rachel always looksas if she was attending a funeral."
"So she is, my boy," said Abel, gravely, "and a sad funeral it is."
"I don't understand you, uncle."
"The funeral of her affections--that's what I mean. Perhaps you mayn'tknow that Rachel was, in early life, engaged to be married to a youngman whom she ardently loved. She was a different woman then from whatshe is now. But her lover deserted her just before the wedding was tohave come off, and she's never got over the disappointment. But thatisn't what I was going to talk about. You haven't told me about youradopted sister."
"That's the very thing I've come to Philadelphia about," said Jack,soberly. "Ida has been carried off, and I've come in search of her."
"Been carried off? I didn't know such things ever happened in thiscountry. What do you mean?"
Jack told the story of Mrs. Hardwick's arrival with a letter from Ida'smother, conveying the request that her child might, under the guidanceof the messenger, be allowed to pay her a visit. To this and thesubsequent details Abel Harding listened with earnest attention.
"So you have reason to think the child is in Philadelphia?" he said,musingly.
"Yes," said Jack; "Ida was seen in the cars, coming here, by a boy whoknew her in New York."
"Ida?" repeated the baker. "Was that her name?"
"Yes; you knew her name, didn't you?"
"I dare say I have known it, but I have heard so little of your familylately that I had forgotten it. It is rather a singular circumstance."
"What is a singular circumstance?"
"I will tell you, Jack. It may not amount to anything, however. A fewdays since a little girl came into my shop to buy a small amount ofbread. I was at once favorably impressed with her appearance. She wasneatly dressed, and had a very honest face. Having made the purchase shehanded me in payment a new dollar bill. 'I'll keep that for my littlegirl,' thought I at once. Accordingly, when I went home at night, I justtook the dollar out of, the till and gave it to her. Of course, she wasdelighted with it, and, like a child, wanted to spend it at once. So hermother agreed to go out with her the next day. Well, they selected someknick-knack or other, but when they came to pay for it the dollar provedcounterfeit."
"Counterfeit?"
"Yes; bad. Issued by a gang of counterfeiters. When they told me ofthis, I said to myself, 'Can it be that this little girl knew what shewas about when she offered me that?' I couldn't think it possible, butdecided to wait till she came again."
"Did she come again?"
"Yes; only day before yesterday. As I expected, she offered me inpayment another dollar just like the other. Before letting her know thatI had discovered the imposition I asked her one or two questions withthe idea of finding out as much as possible about her. When I told herthe bill was a bad one, she seemed very much surprised. It might havebeen all acting, but I didn't think so then. I even felt pity for her,and let her go on condition that she would bring me back a good dollarin place of the bad one the next day. I suppose I was a fool for doingso, but she looked so pretty and innocent that I couldn't make up mymind to speak or act harshly to her. But I am afraid that I wasdeceived, and that she was an artful character after all."
"Then she didn't come back with the good money?"
"No; I haven't seen her since."
"What name did she give you?"
"Haven't I told you? It was the name that made me think of telling you.She called herself Ida Hardwick."
"Ida Hardwick?" repeated Jack.
"Yes, Ida Hardwick. But that hasn't anything to do with your Ida, hasit?"
"Hasn't it, though?" said Jack. "Why, Mrs. Hardwick was the woman whocarried her away."
"Mrs. Hardwick--her mother?"
"No; not her mother. She said she was the woman who took care of Idabefore she was brought to us."
"Then you think this Ida Hardwick may be your missing sister?"
"That's what I don't know yet," said Jack. "If you would only describeher, Uncle Abel, I could tell better."
"Well," said the baker, thoughtfully, "I should say this little girl wasseven or eight years old."
"Yes," said Jack, nodding; "what color were her eyes?"
"Blue."
"So are Ida's."
"A small mouth, with a very sweet expression, yet with something firmand decided about it."
"Yes."
"And I believe her dress was a light one, with a blue ribbon round thewaist."
"Did she wear anything around her neck?"
"A brown scarf, if I remember rightly."
"That is the way Ida was dressed when she went away with Mrs. Hardwick.I am sure it must be she. But how strange that she should come into yourshop!"
"Perhaps," suggested his uncle, "this woman, representing herself asIda's nurse, was her mother."
"No; it can't be," said Jack, vehemently. "What, that ugly, disagreeablewoman, Ida's mother? I won't believe it. I should just as soon expect tosee strawberries growing on a thorn bush."
"You know I have not seen Mrs. Hardwick."
"No great loss," said Jack. "You wouldn't care much about seeing heragain. She is a tall, gaunt, disagreeable woman; while Ida is fair andsweet-looking. Ida's mother, whoever she is, I am sure, is a lady inappearance and manners, and Mrs. Hardwick is neither. Aunt Rachel wasright for once."
"What did Rachel say?"
"She said the nurse was an impostor, and declared it was only a plot toget possession of Ida; but then, that was to be expected of AuntRachel."
"Still it seems difficult to imagine any satisfactory motive on the partof the woman, supposing her not to be Ida's mother."
"Mother or not," returned Jack, "she's got possession of Ida; and, fromall that you say, she is not the best person to bring her up. I amdetermined to rescue Ida from this she-dragon. Will you help me, uncle?"
"You may count upon me, Jack, for all I can do."
"Then," said Jack, with energy, "we shall succeed. I feel sure of it.'Where there's a will there's a way.'"
"I wish you success, Jack; but if the people who have got Ida arecounterfeiters, they are desperate characters, and you must proceedcautiously."
"I ain't afraid of them. I'm on the warpath now, Uncle Abel, and they'dbetter look out for me."