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  CHAPTER II

  A FIVE-DOLLAR JOB

  Frank found Mr. Buckner at his desk, tearing out a freshly-written slipfrom his check book.

  “Good--sit down,” said the business man. “Ready in a second. Now then,”he added a minute later, after filling out a receipt blank, “want tomake five dollars?”

  “A week?” smiled Frank.

  “A day--an hour, if you can get the action on this job that quick,”responded Buckner briskly. “See here, Frank,” he continued, consultinghis watch, “a certain individual started down that south road yonder inhis buggy for Riverton half-an-hour ago.”

  “Yes, sir,” nodded Frank.

  “How soon can he get there?”

  “Horse any good?” questioned Frank.

  “No, common every-day hack.”

  “Well,” calculated Frank, “it’s fifteen miles around by that road.Taking it fairly easy, he’d get to Riverton in about two hours anda-half.”

  “Very good,” said Buckner. “Can you do it in less time?”

  “On foot?”

  “Any way, so you get there.”

  “Sure,” said Frank confidently. “I can make it in an hour by crossingthe flats.”

  “Aha!” observed Buckner, “I see.”

  “Direct across the swamp stretch it is barely six miles to Riverton,”went on Frank.

  “But there’s no road?”

  “Except the trail us boys have blazed out from time to time,” explainedFrank, his eyes brightening at the memory of many a famous camping outexperience in “the Big Woods.” “I can bike it four miles, wade one, andthere’s only an easy mile stretch to come after that.”

  “U-um,” muttered Mr. Buckner in a musing tone, half to himself. “I’drather not excite the suspicions of a certain person already on theroad, so your suggestion strikes me very good, Frank. Will you guaranteeto get to Riverton first?”

  “I will--with time to spare,” promised Frank, readily.

  “I rely on you, then. It is quite an important matter. Here is a checkfor two hundred dollars. It is made payable to James Pryor. He is a fireinsurance adjuster at Riverton, with an office over the bank there. Youfind him out, hand him that check, get him to sign this receipt, andyour work is done.”

  “That’s easy,” said Frank with a pleasant smile. “It isn’t worth fivedollars, though.”

  “I’m doing this hiring,” retorted Buckner with a quizzical laugh.“Client’s money, see? By the way, too, do this little commission up trimand neat, and there will be some more work for you from the same party.”

  Frank was mightily pleased at his task and the prospects. He stowed thecheck and receipt in a safe pocket, and started to leave the office.

  “My client wants to buy up some salvage from a fire at Riverton,” Mr.Buckner explained.

  “I see,” nodded Frank.

  “A certain party here has been juggling with the situation. He put in alot of dummy bids. We learned what his best bid was, and offered thesame amount. Just now we got a letter--as he did also--accepting firstpayment from either of us. By the way, too,” continued Mr. Buckner, witha queer twinkle in his eye, “when you come to find who it is you havehelped to outwit, you may experience a decided personal pleasure in thediscovery. Report soon as you get back to Greenville, Frank.”

  “That will be one o’clock at the latest,” pledged the boy.

  He glanced at the clock, and was down the stairs quicker than he had comeup them. Frank was back home in a jiffy. He made a brief explanation tohis mother. Getting out his bicycle he tied to the handles a pair of longrubber boots. Soon he was sailing down the road to the south.

  The Big Woods formed a long six-mile barrier between Greenville andRiverton direct. Its centre was practically impassible during wetseasons. It was a dismal, slushy waste. For this reason the only road toRiverton wound in a semi-circle many miles out of the natural course.

  Frank entered the woods at a familiar opening near the edge of the town.For two miles there was a hard trodden path, and he made good time onhis wheel. For two more, he had to pick a straggling course. Many timeshe had to dismount from the bicycle and run it past obstacles. However,it was not long before he reached the edge of the flats.

  “Capital!” said Frank, after an eager survey of the swampy stretch. “Icouldn’t strike it drier. Now then, for a wade.”

  Frank ran his bicycle to cover, and drew on the long rubber boots. For adistance of a quarter-of-a-mile he made ready progress by stepping fromone dried-up clump of grass or reeds to another. He had to pick hiscourse more particularly, however, as he got to the wet spots. Wadingwas not difficult, as the water was not deep. Only once did Frank sinkabove the knees.

  “Whew! that was a hot tug,” panted the youth, as he reached the westslope of the flats.

  Frank threw himself flat on dry ground and rested for five minutes. Thenhe arose and removed the rubber boots. He hid these among some bushesand resumed his travels at a lively gait.

  Presently Frank was passing the vicinity of a board fence. It reached upfully fifteen feet, and its top was studded with sharp-pointed nails.Frank was not near enough to observe it more than casually. He had notime to make a closer inspection, and, past a reach of timber, it wasshut out entirely from his view.

  “Hello!” again he exclaimed a few minutes later, and paused this time tolook across a ditch. An object of decided curiosity and interest heldFrank’s attention. This was a little ragged urchin curled up fast asleepagainst a clump of dry weeds.

  He was barefooted, and up to the knees he was spattered and caked withdry mud. His face was dust-covered, tired-looking and tear-stained.Frank’s sympathy was easily aroused. He voted the little fellow somewretched, homeless lad on a tramp.

  By the side of the boy was quite a large bundle. It was enclosed in anewspaper. The breeze blew the sheets aside and the contents weredisclosed quite readily to Frank’s view.

  “Well!” said Frank, his eyes opening wide, “he’s not a vegetarian,that’s sure.”

  The remark was called forth by a sight of a mass of cold cooked meatthat might well make Frank stare, on account of its volume and variety.It looked as if the young wayfarer had gathered up a lunch for manydays. There were parts of mutton chops, chunks of roast beef, and cutsof pork, flanked by bones and remnants of hash and sausages.

  “Hope he’s here when I come back this way,” said Frank. “Looks prettyforelorn. I’d be glad to give him a lift.”

  Frank hurried forward now. He soon reached the outskirts of Riverton.Within ten minutes he gained the business centre of the little town.Frank located the bank. He was soon at the door of an office over itbearing the words in gilt letters:

  _James Pryor, Fire Insurance._

  The door was open. Seated behind a wire railing at a desk was across-looking old man writing in a book. Frank approached him withthe question.

  “Is Mr. Pryor in?”

  “Eleven,” snapped out the man without looking up from his work.

  “You mean he will be here at eleven o’clock?” pursued Frank.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll wait for him then,” said Frank, selecting a chair. He felt atrifle disappointed and worried. The “certain other party” was on theroad to Riverton. It was part of Frank’s contract to see Pryor beforehis arrival.

  Several people came in and inquired for the insurance man during thenext half-hour. Some of them went away saying they would return ateleven o’clock. Some others sat down like Frank, and waited. Frank heardthe old clerk explain to one caller that Mr. Pryor was in his privateroom, but engaged in a most important consultation with a client.

  Frank grew restless. He approached the cross-grained clerk again.

  “Excuse me,” he said politely, “but I understand that Mr. Pryor is inhis private room.”

  “What of it? Can’t be disturbed,” snapped out his representative.

  Frank retreated. He managed to endure a further tedious wait of aquarter-of-an-hour. Finally
he strolled to the window looking down onthe street.

  “That ‘other party’ is on his way here,” mused Frank anxiously. “Supposehe gets here before eleven o’clock? That gives him an even chance withmyself. Oh, the mischief!” exclaimed Frank suddenly. “Now the pot’s inthe fire, sure!”

  Frank gave a great start, and stared fixedly at a horse and gig thatcame clattering to a stop just then in front of the bank.

  Frank recognized the vehicle and its driver. As he did so, he as quicklyguessed that this new arrival must be the “certain party” alluded to byMr. Buckner.

  The new comer was Abner Dorsett, the man who had helped to swindleFrank’s mother out of her fortune.