CHAPTER XVII.
CLUES AND A CONFESSION.
"You—you have bought a controlling interest in the works?" he cried, slowly.
"Yes. Day before yesterday I purchased Mr. Gregory's interest and yesterday received an option on the shares of the Greenwood estate, which will be transferred to me to-day."
"But—but I thought you—that is—you know the works don't pay very much—"
"They haven't heretofore, but they will—after some needed improvements have been made, Buckman. But let us settle this matter of the damaged machines first."
"Certainly, sir, certainly, if you wish it. I will get the bottle at once."
"Toady!" murmured Belden Brice under his breath.
The superintendent, with his face drawn up into a perfect study, disappeared into the main office. In a moment he was back, carrying a square bottle wrapped up in an old newspaper.
Belden Brice took the package and first looked at the newspaper. It was a local sheet of an issue a week old, and there were no special marks of any kind upon it.
Then the speculator turned his attention to the bottle.
"This is not a regular glue bottle, but a bottle made especially for—" he read an inscription moulded in the glass—"Farstock's Acme Pickle Works."
"Farstock's Pickle Works!" cried Franklin, suddenly. "Let me see, I've heard of them."
"No doubt; they are located in Paterson."
"I don't mean that, but—oh, I remember now! Mike Nolan has a brother working in that place."
"One of the boys who came here at midnight?"
"Yes, sir. It must be a bottle Mike's brother brought home some time."
"Bosh!" began Thomas Buckman. But a look from Belden Brice silenced him.
"That maybe true," said the speculator. He smelled of the bottle.
"No pickle smell about it, truly," he added. "It was a clean bottle when the glue was put into it. Buckman, supposing you send for this Mike Nolan?"
"Well—if you wish—"
"I do. Send the timekeeper after him," added Belden Brice as the superintendent started to go himself.
The man referred to was called in and dispatched on the errand. Evidently Thomas Buckman did not like the part the speculator was taking, but he could not help himself.
In a few minutes the Irish boy shuffled in. He had not expected a summons to the office and he was plainly disconcerted, and this was not changed for the better when he saw Franklin sitting on one of the chairs beside Belden Brice.
"You sent for me, Mr. Buckman?" he asked in a voice that was far from clear and steady.
"I sent for you, young man," said the speculator. "Sit down."
Mike Nolan selected a chair in the furthest corner and deposited himself upon it very gingerly, as though he was afraid there were hidden pins in it.
"Now, Nolan, we want you to tell us a straight story," began the speculator. "Keep quiet, please, Mr. Buckman," he added as the superintendent was about to speak. "I will conduct the examination."
"What do you want me to tell?" faltered Mike Nolan. He had always had a dread of that private office and would have preferred being questioned in the workshop.
"I want you to tell me if it was you, or Felter, or Jackson, who proposed the visit to this place at midnight last night?" asked Belden Brice quickly and severely.
The question was a stunner for the Irish boy, totally unprepared as he was. It was like a thunderclap in a clear sky. He sprang up with a cry on his lips and then as suddenly resumed his seat.
"Wha—what's that?" he stammered.
"You heard what I said. Who was it proposed the visit, Felter, Jackson, or yourself? Tell me instantly and tell me the truth."
"But, sir—I—I"
"No lies, now, Nolan, tell me the truth."
And, striding over to the Irish boy, the speculator caught him by the arm.
"Oh! Don't, please don't!" cried Mike Nolan, in wild alarm, as visions of arrest and months in jail floated across his mind. Had they been seen, or had one of his late companions confessed? How much had leaked out?
"Are you going to answer me, Nolan?"
It was like the voice of a judge sounding in his ears. He looked up and saw those sharp eyes looking at him as if to read his innermost thoughts. Then his one thought was to save himself.
"It was Jackson, sir!" he gasped out. "Oh, please don't have me arrested! It was Jackson proposed the whole thing and Felter carried it out."
"But you climbed into the window"
"No, no; it was Felter, sir. I only came along. I didn't want to, but Felter made me, because Jackson couldn't get away from his house."
"But you got the glue, didn't you? The bottle was one your brother brought from the pickle works."
Again Mike Nolan was astonished and aghast. Evidently the daylight had been shining in upon the dark doings of himself and his companions in crime.
"I didn't get the glue," he whined. "I got the bottle for Jackson, and he stole the glue from Peterson's carpenter shop. Oh, please don't have me arrested!"
"What did you do it for? Why were you so anxious to get Bell here in trouble?"
At first Mike Nolan would not answer these questions, but finally he admitted that Franklin's ways were not to the taste of himself and the others. He also said that his brother had been discharged from the pickle works, and that the others had promised to do what they could to get Larry Nolan the job should Franklin be discharged.
As soon as Nolan had finished, Felter and Bob Jackson were sent for and questioned. They were as much surprised as the Irish boy had been, and, covered with confusion, they made a sorry mess of the falsehoods they endeavored to tell in order to clear themselves.
Belden Brice's decision in the matter was short and to the point. He said he would not give Buckman the trouble to prosecute them in the courts, although Franklin might do so if he chose, but would discharge the three on the spot. And, relieved to think that they would get off thus easily, Felter, Jackson and Nolan left without unnecessary delay.
Of course, Franklin was sent back to work again, much to the surprise of the others in the shop. They wanted to know all about what had happened, but the young electrician politely referred them to his enemies for information on that point.
That evening Franklin called upon Harry Leclair again. The sick boy was glad to hear of the turn affairs had taken.
"Maybe it will teach Mr. Buckman a lesson, too," he said. "He is such a hot-tempered man. More than once he has scolded me when I didn't deserve it."
"Mr. Brice will watch him, I imagine," returned Franklin. "He sat down on him pretty heavily during the interview, I can tell you."
Franklin was right in his surmise that the speculator would keep his eyes on the superintendent. Commencing the next day, Belden Brice made it a point to call at the electrical works every morning, and this lasted for nearly two weeks.
Then came a surprise. Thomas Buckman left one Friday, and on Saturday failed to put in an appearance. On the following Monday it was announced that thereafter a new man, named Mombray, would have full charge.
The truth of the matter was that Belden Brice had found Thomas Buckman working solely in the interest of himself and one of the other stockholders. Buckman had been discharged and the stockholder had been forced to dispose of his stock to somebody else.