Ned Wilding's Disappearance/Chapter 16
CHAPTER XVI
ADRIFT IN NEW YORK
Puzzled, worried and not a little frightened at what the outcome of his investment might be, Ned boarded an elevated train for his aunt's home. He was sure the inspector had referred to him, and, though he knew he had done nothing wrong, yet he admitted he was ignorant of the laws regarding stocks and bonds, and might have, unknowingly, acted illegally.
He had read of cases where the stockholders in a fraudulent concern were liable for the corporation's debts, and, in fancy, he saw a suit started against himself. As he was a minor he thought his father would have to stand the damage. Poor Ned was in a highly nervous state when he went up the steps of his aunt's home.
He began to imagine there might be a policeman waiting for him in the hall. He looked around as he reached the front door, expecting to see a blue-coated officer close at his heels. That there was a general alarm sent out for him he felt positive.
Something in Mary's manner, as she opened the door in response to his ring, told him there was trouble in the house. The girl's eyes showed she had been crying.
"Oh, Master Ned!" she exclaimed as he entered. "Isn't it awful! To think of the trouble!"
"Why, how did you hear?" asked the boy, wondering if in the parlor there was an officer to arrest him.
"Why, 'twas a message we got, to be sure."
"Then the postoffice authorities sent a letter here?" asked Ned, somewhat relieved to find he would not have to break to his aunt what he believed would be terrible news.
"No, dear," Mrs. Kenfield called down from the head of the stairs. "It wasn't a letter from the postoffice, it was a telegram. I have received bad news."
"Oh, aunt, it wasn't my fault at all!" burst out Ned. "I didn't know about it, or I'd never have come to New York."
"Of course it isn't your fault," his aunt said. "How could you know about it when I only got the telegram myself a little while ago? As for your coming to New York, that couldn't be helped. Of course it's too bad. But you can pay me another visit."
Ned thought she meant he must hurry away to escape arrest.
"Are you almost packed up, Mrs. Kenfield?" asked Mary.
"Yes, almost. I shall want a little help. I must go at once."
"Why—what—are you—I don't understand—" began Ned.
"Of course, just like women, to begin at the wrong end," said Mrs. Kenfield, and Ned's heart beat fast. He wondered if his aunt was going to reproach him for bringing disgrace on the family. He thought she would have to flee the city too, in order to avoid arrest. How he wished his uncle was at home to advise and help them.
"Do you have to go, aunt?" he asked. "Can't I let 'em take me? I don't mind."
"No, it's very good of you to offer, Ned. But I must go. They need me to help nurse her."
"Help nurse," repeated Ned, wondering if he had heard aright.
"Yes, didn't Mary tell you? We have just received a telegram from my niece Jane Alden in Chicago. She has typhoid fever and I must go to her at once. She has no other relatives living and I must take care of her. I shall have to start at once and, as there is no telling when I will come back I must close up the house."
"Close up the house," Ned said.
"Yes, it will make lots of trouble, and I am so sorry that it will spoil the pleasure of yourself and your chums. But there is no help for it. I think you had better go back home, Ned. You and your friends can come and spend two months here next summer."
"Is Mary going too?" asked Ned.
"Mary is going to stay with some relatives in Long Island until I come back. I have sent a cablegram explaining matters to your uncle and it will be waiting for him when his ship arrives on the other side. Oh, poor dear Jane! I hope her case is not a severe one. It is lucky I know how to nurse. She never could get along without me. I am sorry for you, Ned."
Ned felt sorry for himself but he did not feel like inflicting his own troubles on his aunt. Still he did want some instructions about what he had better do. He was all upset and did not know whether to go home at once or wait until his aunt had started. He half resolved to tell her what had happened and ask her advice.
"Maybe she can send me to uncle's lawyer and he can help me," he said to himself. His aunt came downstairs at that moment and he decided to make an attempt to gain an idea of how to proceed.
"Do you know anything about stocks, aunt?" asked Ned.
"Stocks? Mercy, no! I leave all that to your uncle. I have trouble enough—"
The door bell rang and Mrs. Kenfield opened it. A boy handed her a telegram. Her hands shook as she opened it.
"Jane is worse," she said as she read the second brief dispatch. "I must hurry off soon. Now Ned, I can't tell you how sorry I am, but you had better arrange to go home at once. I will take the noon train for Chicago. What time can you get one back to Darewell?"
"At four this afternoon."
"Then you had better take it. Mary, hurry packing those trunks. Then get your own things ready."
"Mine are all packed, Mrs. Kenfield," the girl replied.
"All right then. See that the house is well locked up. Don't leave any victuals around where they will spoil. Shut all the blinds and fasten the windows well. You can go any time you are ready, Mary."
"I was going to the station with you and help you carry your valise."
"Ned can do that. His train doesn't go until four o'clock; can't you, Ned?"
"Certainly, aunt."
Ned's chance to ask advice was gone for, following the receipt of the second telegram, his aunt was so excited about getting ready that he had no heart to bother her with his affair. He started every time the door bell rang, fearing the police might have traced him to his aunt's house and would arrest him at any moment.
An expressman, who had been telephoned for, took two trunks belonging to Mrs. Kenfield. They were to go to Chicago. Mary's was also shipped to her friends in Long Island. Ned was glad he had left his at the depot, as it could be checked back to his home from there.
Mary departed about ten o'clock. The house had been darkened by the closing of the shutters so that it was necessary to light the gas. Mrs. Kenfield went about making sure that all the doors were fastened.
"I can't tell you how sorry I am," she said to Ned. "To think of your holiday being spoiled!"
"Don't worry about that, aunt," said the boy. "It couldn't be helped."
In fact he was thinking less about his broken holiday than he was about his own plight in the stock transaction. He felt the certificate rustle in his pocket when he moved, and he had half a mind to throw it away. But he feared lest doing that, even with the tearing of it into small bits, might lead to his discovery. He was too worried and excited to be able to think clearly.
"I guess we are all ready," his aunt remarked as she stood in the hall. She had a small valise to carry, and Ned had the one he had brought from home.
"Be sure and explain to your father how it happened," Mrs. Kenfield said. "Tell him about your uncle's unexpected trip to Europe and about Jane Alden. He knew her quite well when he was a young man. Now I guess we will start. I like to be in plenty of time for my train. I hate to hurry at the last minute."
Together they left the house, Ned carrying both valises. They boarded the elevated which ran near Mrs. Kenfield's house and were soon on their way to the station where Ned's aunt was to take her train.
The boy saw her safely aboard and bade her good-bye. She told him to write to her, and gave him her Chicago address.
"Tell your chums how sorry I was to disappoint them," she called to Ned as her train rolled out of the depot.
"I will," replied Ned.
Then, left alone as he was in the big city, he felt a sense of fear, and hardly knew what to do.
"Guess I'd better go straight back to Darewell and tell dad all about it," he said to himself.
He was soon in the station at which he had arrived the day previous, and where he had left his trunk. As he was going to the baggage room, to have it rechecked to Darewell, he caught sight of a man who seemed strangely familiar to him. The man had his back toward Ned, but when he turned the boy saw it was the postal inspector who had been at the offices of Skem & Skim.
"He's after me!" thought Ned. "He's on my track! I must not let him see me."
He turned suddenly away so the man could not observe his face. The inspector was talking to a policeman, and Ned overheard the bluecoat ask:
"Have you sent the telegram?"
"Yes, they'll be on the watch for him if he goes back home," was the reply. "They'll nab him as soon as he gets off the train. If he calls for his baggage the agent here will hold him and notify me."
Ned hurried from the depot and ran up the street as if the officer was after him. The last way of escape seemed closed.