CHAPTER XXIII
A GREAT SURPRISE
Dave looked the boy he had followed and run to cover squarely in theeye. There could be no mistake as to his identity. The scar on his faceshowed plainly. For all of his gay clothes and jaunty appearance, thefellow had the same repellant features that Dave had noticed at thelodging house the night he was robbed.
For a minute the fellow looked surprised. Then his memory quickened torecognition. He turned pale, his lips trembled, and he blurted outunsteadily:
“W—what do you want?”
“I want you,” said Dave simply and sternly.
Quick as a flash the boy thief realized his situation, it seemed. Hemade a move for which Dave was unprepared. Making a light spring, onehand extended, he swept Dave clear of the threshold of the room, andsent him crashing back against the other wall of the corridor.
Before Dave could recover himself the door was violently slammed shut.Dave heard the key turn in the lock. Then there were hurried movementsabout the room.
Dave was mad at being outwitted. He was determined, too. He threwhimself against the door, but could not budge it.
“Open this door!” he shouted, pounding upon the panels. “It will be thebetter for you.”
No attention was paid to this. Dave continued to hammer on the door.
“You’re a thief!” he cried. “I’ll rouse the whole hotel and leave youpublicly disgraced if you don’t come out. I want back the property youstole from me, and I’m bound to have it.”
Dave made a spring. His foot landed on the outside door knob. He caughtat the tilted transom to steady himself. Just then a figure camehurrying down the corridor. Dave’s foot was seized and he was dragged tothe floor.
“Here, what you up to, with all this noise?” demanded his captor, a hallman of the hotel, by his uniform.
“There’s a thief in that room,” cried Dave breathlessly.
“A thief?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“He robbed me. He just slammed the door in my face. Have you a key tothat room?”
“Why, yes, but——”
“Unlock the door, then. I’ll face him down for you. You can take both ofus to the hotel clerk, and I’ll speak the truth.”
The hall man hesitated a trifle, but Dave’s earnest urging induced himto produce a bunch of keys. Dave rushed into the room. He looked allaround it.
“Why,” he cried, “it’s empty! The fellow is gone!”
Dave peered into a closet, under a bed, and then ran to the window.There the hall man was looking at a coat and hat lying on the platformof the fire escape, just outside of the casement.
“This is a queer go,” he said, slowly and dubiously, “but there seems tobe something to your story.”
“I should think there was, a whole lot,” declared Dave. “Don’t you see?”
“What?”
“The fellow has escaped. He knew I was bound to get into this room.Those things fell out of his satchel as he got through the window.”
“Yes, his satchel is gone, that’s so,” observed the hall man. “Say, youhad better report this to the clerk.”
Dave was very much disturbed and disappointed. There could be no doubtthat the boy thief had escaped by the window route. It would probably bein vain to try to follow him now. Dave dashed out into the corridor andran down the stairs, not waiting for the elevator.
The clerk was talking to a guest, polite and imperturbable. He simplyinclined his head as Dave burst forth:
“The boy in 47.”
“Ah, yes!” answered the hotel clerk.
“Who is he?”
The clerk turned the big register around, flipped back a page or two,and set his finger on a name.
Dave read it, and nearly fell down where he stood. He had never been sostartled and dumbfounded in his life. The name on the register, writtenin a big, sprawling hand was——
“Dave Dashaway!”
Dave grasped the marble counter slab for support with both hands. Hegasped and started.
“My name!” he exclaimed. “Why, what does this mean?”
“What’s the trouble?” inquired the guest, who had been conversing withthe clerk. He could not help but notice Dave’s perturbation.
“Why,” cried Dave, “I followed a fellow here, to room 47. He is a thief.He robbed me of valuable property two weeks ago. He just slammed thedoor of his room in my face.”
“A thief?” spoke the clerk, arching his eyebrows. “Are you pretty sure?”
“I should think so,” retorted Dave, “seeing that, rather than meet me,he has made off by the fire escape, baggage and all.”
The hotel clerk blinked in his usual calm way, but touched a bell tosummon the hall man from the fourth floor.
“And he stole my name,” cried Dave. “Why?”
“Is that your name?” inquired the clerk, pointing to the register.
“It is,” assented Dave.
“Strange. Let me see, forty-seven—Dashaway,” and the clerk went to acase covered with little cards and selected one. “Oh, yes, has been heretwice in a week. Prompt pay. Old gentlemen with him here once,grandfather, I believe. Very respectable old man.”
“See here,” said Dave realizing that he was wasting time, “I don’t wantto make you any trouble, but I must report this to the police.”
“The only thing to do, I should say,” replied the clerk.
“Where is the nearest police station?”
“Two squares down, one square south.”
“Thank you,” said Dave, and darted away.
He hurried out of the hotel and up to the automobile he had recentlyleft.
“Wait here,” he directed Hiram.
“Is it the boy you supposed?” asked Hiram.
“Yes. I can’t explain now. I’ll be back in five minutes.”
Dave was not afraid to face the police on this occasion. He could nowuse the name of Mr. King. He planned to have the police get promptly onthe trail of the boy thief.
Dave located the police station and ran up its steps. At a desk in alarge room sat the office clerk, writing.
“I want to report a case of robbery,” said Dave.
“All right, see the lieutenant,” responded the clerk.
“Where is he?”
“That’s his room yonder,” was the reply, and the man pointed to a smallroom leading off from the main apartment. “He’s off with a squad, buthe’ll be back soon.”
Dave moved over to the open doorway indicated. He was greatly excitedover all the incidents of the past two hours, and hardly had thepatience to wait for the lieutenant.
He decided to go into the room, however, and wait for the official’sreturn. The minute he stepped across the threshold, however, he wasaware that the room held two occupants.
Then Dave Dashaway discovered something else, that was the surprise ofhis life. First one, and then the other of the two occupants of the roomarose in a hurry.
“Why, what luck—the very boy!” sounded one voice.
“Dave Dashaway!” cried the other.
And the boy aviator came to a standstill with a shock, as he recognizedhis old guardian, Silas Warner, and the sheriff from Brookville.
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