CHAPTER VIII.
AT CLOSE QUARTERS.
Close beside the gate hung a padlock attached to an iron chain. Seizing the padlock, Andy Gresson shoved the hasp in place and snapped the lock through the staple, thus closing the gate of the lumber yard against Franklin's entrance.
"Stop, Gresson! Do you hear?" cried the young electrician, as he reached the gate, just as the operation was completed.
Still the man made no reply. He ran down the wagon way, between huge piles of boards, and pieces of timber, and disappeared around a corner.
A brief examination convinced Franklin that to open the gate would just then be impossible. He looked up and saw that the slats were ten feet high.
"Here goes for a try at them anyway!" he murmured to himself, and the next instant was doing his best to scale the tall gate.
Fortunately, the boy was a good climber, and he reached the top of the gate mthout difficulty. Then he took a leap and landed in a little heap of snow on the other side.
But, though he had scaled the gate successfully, it had taken some time, and now, when he ran to the corner below in the lumber yard, he found that Andy Gresson was nowhere in sight.
"He must be around here somewhere," thought Franklin. "Like as not he is behind some of these lumber piles watching for me. I must keep my eyes open, or he will slip me after all."
Fortunately, this part of the yard had not been visited much during the holidays, and the late snow had scarcely been disturbed. Casting his eyes about him, Franklin soon discerned what he had rightfully considered to be newly made track, and these he began to follow.
The tracks led him around half a dozen piles of lumber and through a narrow walk to a shed in one corner of the yard, used for housing barrels of lime. The door of the shed was closed, but without hesitation Franklin flung it open and entered. He was just in time to see Andy Gresson in the act of secreting himself behind a pile of rubbish.
"It's no use, Gresson; you might as well come out of that!" he called out, and somewhat red in the face, Silas Fell's former workman slowly complied.
"What do you want 'o me?" he asked, as he came up to where Franklin stood.
"I imagine you know well enough," returned the young electrician, coldly.
"I don't know nothin'," returned Andy Gresson, doggedly.
"It is strange you should take so much trouble to get out of my way. And seeing that the man did not attempt to reply to this, the young electrician continued: "What have you done with Mrs. Mace's two rings?"
"Don't know nothin' about her rings."
"You took them out of her jewel casket, and you have got to give them up."
"See here. Bell. I don't want you to talk to me like this!" blustered the man, feeling that he was getting the worst of the argument. "I want you to go about your own business and leave me alone."
"I won't leave you until you have given up the rings, and perhaps I won't leave you alone even then. Your taking the rings cast a grave suspicion upon my character."
"Like as not you took the rings yourself," burst out Andy Gresson, suddenly, thinking he saw a way to clear himself. "I don't know anything about them. Now go away."
"I will not go away unless you accompany me."
"And where will I go with you?"
"The nearest station house. I want this matter investigated."
"This ain't Orange."
"Never mind. You come with me."
Franklin stepped forward to grasp Andy Gresson by the arm. But before he could do so the man rushed up and pushed him back violently.
"When you see me again you'll know it, Bell!" he cried out, and on the next instant he was gone.
The force of the sudden and unexpected attack had landed Franklin on his back on a number of lime barrels. As quickly as he could collect his scattered senses, he scrambled to his feet and rushed out of the lime shed, bent upon stopping Gresson and bringing him to terms.
"Hi, there, boy! What are you doing here?" exclaimed a rough voice, and then Franklin found himself in the sturdy clutches of a burly lumber wagon driver.
"Let me go, please," returned the young electrician. "I want to catch that man who just ran away."
"Catch nobody! Ain't you the chap that played the trick on us just now and locked the gate?"
"No, sir; it was the man I am after. He is a thief."
"A thief! I didn't see any one."
"He ran out of the shed just before I did."
The man questioned Franklin for a minute longer, and finally concluded to release the young electrician. Then Franklin persuaded him to join in the search for Andy Gresson, and the two spent nearly an hour in the lumberyard and in the sheds and buildings around it.
But it was all to no purpose. During the brief interval that had elapsed while Franklin was telling his story, Silas Fell's former workman had made good his escape, and not a single trace of him could be found.
"It's too bad," thought the young electrician, as he wended his way to the depot, just as the train for Paterson came in sight, "Perhaps Gresson has not yet disposed of those rings and has them still in his pocket."
Cora Brice was surprised over his long absence, but he explained to the little girl that he had chanced to catch sight of a man he had wished to see very much before leaving Newark. She asked no further questions on the point, and soon interested both herself and the young electrician in the scenery of the country through which they were passing.
Paterson was soon reached, and here a surprise awaited both of them. Cora had expected to find her way home alone while Franklin presented himself at Belden Brice's office, and here was the gentleman at the depot awaiting them.
Mr. Brice took Cora up in his arms and kissed her affectionately, asking her at the same time if she had had a good time. Then he held out a hand to Franklin and desired to know how the two had become acquainted.
"He saved me from being run over," exclaimed Cora, and without waiting for Frankhn to speak told her story.
Evidently Belden Brice was deeply affected, for something like a tear gathered in the corners of each of his eyes. He took Franklin's hand again and gave it a tight squeeze.
"Well done, my boy," he said huskily.
"You are a real hero, and I shall not forget you. Come with us. My carriage is waiting to take Cora home. We will all dine together, and then we will see what can be done for you."
"Oh, thank you, sir, but I can get a lunch at the restaurant"
"Not to-day, Franklin. You must be my guest. We can talk matters over at the house better than we can at my office, which is generally full of poor inventors trying to sell their inventions."
Almost before he knew it, Franklin was seated in the carriage and being driven to the fashionable portion of the city. On the way he told Mr. Brice of his encounter with Andy Gresson.
"I will send word to my sister," said the gentleman. "And if she sees fit she can have a detective hunt the man up."