CHAPTER XXI
THE MYSTERIOUS MESSAGE
The unexpected announcement by the daring lad, of what he had done,was a surprise to both Mr. Muchmore and the members of the firedepartment.
"So, this is a trick by one of you young rascals, is it?" asked therich man's nephew. "I shall take action against you for this. The roadyou are on is private property, and I shall have you arrested if youdo not, at once, cease from trespassing on it. Get out of here withyour noisy apparatus!"
"Mr. Muchmore," said Bert firmly, "you are mistaken when you thinkthat our fire department had anything to do with this false alarm. Weregret it as much as you do. We came here because we believed therewas a fire. The box located near here was pulled."
"I shall take steps to see that it is not rung again. I shall have itremoved," said the man. "Now I order you to clear out!"
"We will," replied the young chief, "but I want to say that no memberof our department had anything to do with annoying you."
"You heard what that young rascal said. That he did it to pay me fornot thanking you boys for what you did at the other fire. That was anoversight. I was too excited, I suppose, but that is hardly an excusefor disturbing me in this way."
"Mr. Muchmore," exclaimed Bert, "the boy who sent in the false alarmis not a member of our department. He never was, though he might havehelped at the other fire."
"Well, it seems strange that I can't live here in peace and quietness,without being annoyed by a lot of boys," retorted Muchmore. "Perhapsyou knew nothing of the false alarm--"
"I assure you we did not. We don't care enough about this long runuphill to undertake it on a false alarm," declared Bert.
"That's right," added Cole.
"Very well, then you had better go down. As for that boy who pulledthe box, I shall take steps to have him arrested."
"If you will, you would be doing us a service," replied Bert. "Wedon't want false alarms to be sent in, and if that boy--Chester Randelis his name--finds out he is liable to arrest, it may serve as awarning to others."
"I'll see about it," and, without thanking the boys for theirpromptness in coming to put out a possible fire, Muchmore turned back,and went up the private driveway to the big house, that stood dark andsilent on the hill.
"This is one on us," remarked Cole, as he helped to drag the enginearound. "I'd like to wallop Chester."
"So would I," declared Bert. "Mr. Muchmore will attend to him, though,I guess."
"Muchmore needs someone to attend to him, too," remarked Tom Donnell."He's as cross as a couple of sour apple trees. I guess if the househad been on fire he'd have been only too glad to see us."
Still the boys did not so much mind their useless run, as they were soenthusiastic over their engine and the new department that it had notyet become an old story to them.
"We were in need of a little practice, anyhow," remarked Bert, as theybacked the engine into the barn. The second apparatus had notresponded, though the boys were in readiness to run it out in case acall came for them.
When he got back home that night Herbert was racking his brains overthe mystery that seemed to surround the Stockton mansion. That therewas something queer going on within its walls he was positive. What hehad seen, Muchmore's queer actions, his fear of something beingdiscovered, and what Mort Decker had told him, convinced Bert thatvery unusual proceedings must be taking place in the silent house onthe hill.
"Mr. Stockton ought to be informed," he said. "I wonder if I couldn'tsend a letter to him? I've a good notion to make some inquiries at thepost-office."
He did, the next day. As he entered the post-office he saw that Mr.Daven was busy reading some postal cards.
"Ah, how d'ye do, Bert?" he greeted, for he had a kindly feeling forthe lad, who, in a measure, was responsible for the awakening of thetown. "How's the fire business?"
"Pretty good. We had a run for nothing last night."
"I heard about that. Up to the Stockton mansion. Yes, I may have totake official action on it."
"How's that?"
"Why, Mr. Muchmore was in here a while ago. He came to see me in myofficial capacity as justice of the peace, and not postmaster. Hewanted a warrant for the arrest of Chester Randel, and I made out one.The next thing is to arrest that good-for-nothing lad, but he's like aflea, I never can catch him when I want him. I've got another warrantfor him too."
"What's that for?"
"Oh, he robbed Deacon Stanton's apple orchard. Not that taking applesis such a crime, but the deacon insisted on a warrant, and I had tomake one out."
"Are you going to arrest Chester?"
"If I can catch him, but I'm so busy with mail lately that I ain't gotmuch time to arrest anybody. 'Pears everybody is sending out souvenirpostals, with pictures of the new engines on 'em, and it takes a lotof time to read and sort 'em."
An enterprising stationer in town had ordered a supply of postalsmade, with pictures of the new fire apparatus, and he sold quite anumber. Bert thought the postmaster's talk gave him a good opening toask certain questions.
"I wonder if Mr. Stockton knows about our new department?" he said."I'd like to send him one of those postals, though I don't really knowhim very well. Still, I think he would be interested. Do you know hisaddress?"
"No, Bert, I don't."
"I heard he had gone to Europe."
"Maybe he has, but I can't say."
"Do you get any letters for him?"
"Yes, quite a few."
"Then don't you forward them?"
"No, for I don't know where to send them. Besides, that nephew of hiscalls for the mail, and takes the letters addressed to Mr. Stockton,as well as his own. I don't believe Mr. Stockton is in Europe."
"Then where is he?"
"That's more than I know, Bert. It's something I don't have time tobother about, with the increase in the mail, and my eyesight gettingpoorer and poorer each day. I can't read as many postals as I usedto."
"Then if I wrote a letter to Mr. Stockton, you don't think he'd getit?"
"I don't know. I do know that Muchmore would get it first. Maybe heforwards his uncle's mail."
"I don't believe I'll write any letter then," thought Bert. "I havenothing only suspicions, at best. I think something wrong is going onat that house, but I can't prove it. I think Mr. Stockton ought toknow about it, but I don't see any way of informing him. I wish Icould have a talk with Mort Decker. Maybe he has found out something."
Once he got thinking in this strain Bert found it hard to get his mindoff the matter. As he had nothing in particular to do, he decided totake a stroll past the mysterious mansion. He knew of a road, throughthe woods, that would bring him to the rear of the house, without anyone seeing him.
He started off, passing through the back streets of the village, as hedid not want to meet any of his chums just then. In a little while hewas in the forest, and, proceeding along leisurely, so that if anypersons did observe him they would not think he had any particularobject, he reached the rear of the queer house. It seemed to bedeserted. The shutters on the back were tightly closed, and there wasno sign of life.
"A queer old place," mused the boy. "I wonder what--"
His musing was cut short by a sudden opening of the shutters on thetopmost window. They were thrown violently back, as though whateverfastened them had been broken. At the same moment a hand was thrustout. It was a white hand, and it seemed to throw something from thewindow. Bert watched, and saw that the object was a bottle. The glassstruck a stone and was broken. Then, from the bottle came a piece ofwhite paper. The shutters were closed again. Wonderingly, Bert walkedover and picked up the paper. On it was this mysterious message:
"help i am a priso"