CHAPTER XIII.
THE BROKEN MACHINE.
For the moment Franklin was so bewildered by what was taking place that he could not reply to the superintendent's demand for an explanation, and it was not until Mr. Buckman had caught him by the arm and given him a vigorous shake that he blurted out:
"Oh, sir, is that really my knife?"
"It has your name on it, Bell. It is not likely that any person would put that on a knife that was not yours."
"Yes, it is my knife," said Franklin, somewhat sadly, as he took the twisted object in his hand and turned it over.
"Too bad! It is spoilt for good!"
"Never mind about the knife being spoilt," returned the superintendent, roughly. "Something far more valuable has suffered, and that is this machine here. Your knife has completely ruined it, and it cost a thousand dollars and more!"
"Ruined it!" ejaculated Franklin. "That is really too bad! And how did it happen?"
"That's what we want to know. You dropped the knife in by accident, did you?"
"I didn't drop the knife in at all," returned Franklin. "The knife has been missing since yesterday afternoon."
"Ah, I see. Whom did you lend it to?"
"No one, sir."
"You are certain?"
"Positive, sir."
"When did you handle it last?"
"I used it at noon time to cut up an apple with."
"And put it in your pocket after you had finished?"
"Yes, sir, and I did not miss it until I was nearly home in the evening."
"Humph!" The superintendent mused for a moment. "Were you near this machine yesterday?"
"No," returned Franklin, hesitatingly. He was trying to think if he was mistaken.
"Tell me the truth. Bell."
"I was no nearer the machine than I am now. I had to pass the machine when carrying the motors to my bench yonder."
"This machine was not running after three o'clock yesterday," put in one of the workmen.
"The knife could have been dropped in any time after that. The mischief was done, you know, when the machine was tried this morning."
"Yes, I know," returned the superintendent, sharply. "Does any one know who dropped that knife in the machine?" he asked, in a loud voice, of the new-comers on the scene.
"What's the trouble?" asked Felter, pushing his way through the crowd and bestowing a dark look upon Franklin.
He was told by a fellow worker and at once turned to the superintendent.
"Bell threw that knife in himself," he said.
"He did?" cried several, in astonishment, for they had just listened to Franklin's denial.
"He did—or, at least, he was tinkering on the Machine with it," went on Felter.
"Did you see him?" demanded Mr. Buckman.
"I did, sir. He was around the machine just before quitting time yesterday.
"That is not true, Mr. Buckman!" burst out Franklin, indignantly.
"It is true," retorted Felter, with a wicked smile at the boy he was trying to injure. "I saw him and so did some of the others, I guess."
"I saw him," put in Mike Nolan, who had entered with Felter. "He was using one of the blades of the knife to lift the oil-plate with. I thought he was trying to learn how the machine worked, for he's always tinkering around the machines every chance he gets."
As this last statement was known to be in the main true, Felter and Nolan's story was readily believed by the other workmen, and several who did not bear the young electrician any good will did not know but that they did remember seeing him at the machine just before they left for home the evening before.
Mr. Buckman listened to what they had to say with keen interest. At the conclusion he turned to Franklin with a face that was full of anger.
"Now, Bell, what have you to say? Don't you think you had better acknowledge the truth?"
"Mr. Buckman," began Franklin, earnestly. "I have told you the truth. I was not near the machine and I certainly never used my knife on the oil-plate or on any other part of it."
"But these workmen saw you."
"Felter and Nolan are down upou me, every one in the shop knows why, and they would willingly get me into trouble if they could. Besides, sir, look at that kuife. It is a costly one, and was given to me by my five cousins on my last birthday, so I prize it very highly. If it had dropped in the machine from my hand, would I not have taken the trouble to get it out rather than leave it and have it ruined?"
"Yes, I suppose you would," returned the superintendent, slowly. "That is, if you could get it," he added, suddenly. "Where do you suppose the knife caught, Hardell?"
"I don't see where it could catch excepting between the cog-wheels and the plates, sir," returned the workman. "If it fell down there it's more than likely it couldn't be got out excepting by taking the machine apart, too."
"He couldn't put his hand between the plates and draw it out?"
"I don't think so, sir. It would be dangerous, as every one knows who has handled the machine."
"Oh, he dropped the knife in it, I am certain," put in Felter, spitefully. "It was more than likely he was too scared to get it out. He left in a big hurry."
"Felter, you are telling an untruth and you know it!" burst out Franklin. "I believe it is more than likely that you stole the knife from my pocket and dropped it in the machine yourself. You are just mean enough for such underhanded work!"
"Shut up!" roared the heavyweight, growing red in the face, for the shot was too near home to be comfortable. "Call me a thief and I'll pound the life out of you!"
"You tried it once before, but you didn't succeed," retorted Franklin.
"Come, come, this won't do!" put in the superintendent sternly. "Come to my office, Bell, and you, too, Felter and Nolan. I intend to get at the bottom of this affair if I can."
The whistle had blown, and at a wave of the superintendent's hand all the other workmen departed for their various benches and machines.
Three minutes later Franklin and the others were closeted with Mr. Buckman in his private office. Here the whole story was gone over again, and then the superintendent asked each of them a great number of questions.
The young electrician told his version as straightforward as possible. He acknowledged that he loved to examine the machines and had often done so, but denied emphatically that he had been instrumental in ruining the particular machine in question.
Felton and Nolan had evidently rehearsed their falsehoods beforehand, for they now told them with a smoothness that was as astonishing to Franklin as they were painful. They had seen the young electrician at the machine with the knife in his hand and they had seen him leave the shop in a great hurry a minute or two later.
When they had all finished Mr. Buckman was more puzzled than ever as to what to do. He wished to make an example of somebody. But he remembered that Franklin had been recommended to him by Belden Brice, and that the speculator owned an interest in the Fan Works. It would not do to act hastily.
"All of you goto your work," he commanded, finally. "I will investigate this when I have more time, and you may rest assured that as soon as I am certain who the guilty party is, he shall suffer for what he has done. And in the future. Bell, I wish you to keep away from the machines upon which you are not working."
Franklin bowed—he could not speak at that moment, and then all three of the boys withdrew and made their way to the shop.
Felter was on the point of casting some further slur at the young electrician, but a look upon Franklin's face made him change his mind. Had he uttered a single word it is more than likely that a bitter fight would have been the result, for Franklin was in no mood to be trifled with after having listened to the efforts of the others to ruin his reputation.