Airship Andy Or The Luck of a Brave Boy Part 19

"Doing what I advise you. I'm a man of influence and power in this community," boasted the garage owner. "I can fix up this business all right with Jones. You've got to help, though."

"All right, name your terms," said Andy.

"I wouldn't put it 'terms,' Andy," replied Talbot, looking eager and insinuating, "call it rights. There's that two hundred dollars at the bank. It was found on my property by one of my hired employees. Good, that gives me legal possession according to law."

"Does it?" nodded Andy. "I didn't know that before."

"You can get that money by going after it," continued Talbot.

"How can I?"

"Why, that advertis.e.m.e.nt they found in your pocket says so, don't it?

See here, Andy," and Talbot looked so mean and greedy that our hero could hardly keep from shuddering with disgust, "tell me about that advertis.e.m.e.nt-all about it, I want to be a good friend to you. I am a shrewd business man, and you're only a boy. They'll chisel you out of it, if you don't have some older person to stand by you. I'll stand by you, Andy."

"Chisel me out of what?" inquired Andy, intent on drawing out his specious counsellor to the limit.

"What's your due. They're after the pocketbook that held the two hundred dollars. Don't you see they're breaking their necks to get it back? Why?

aha!"

"That's so," murmured Andy, as if it were all news to him.

"So, if you know what became of that pocketbook--"

"Yes," nodded Andy.

"And where it is--"

"I do," declared Andy.

"Capital!" cried Talbot, getting excited. "Then we've got them. Ha! Ha!

They can't squirm away from us. Where's the pocketbook, Andy? You just hand this business right over to me. I'll do the negotiating."

"And if I do?" insinuated Andy.

"You won't be prosecuted on this firebug charge. I'll take you back at the garage and raise your salary."

"How much?" inquired Andy.

"Well-I'll be liberal. I'll raise your wages twenty-five cents a week."

"Mr. Talbot, if you made it twenty-five dollars I wouldn't touch it, no, nor twenty-five hundred dollars. You talk about your goodness to me.

Why, you treated me like a slave. As to the two hundred dollars, it stays right where it is until its rightful owner claims it. If he then wants to give it to me as a reward, you can make up your mind you won't get a cent of it."

"You young reprobate!" shouted Talbot, jumping to his feet, aflame with rage. "I'll make you sing another tune soon. It rests with me as to your staying in jail. I'll just go and see those lawyers myself."

"You will waste your time," declared Andy. "I have told them all about you from beginning to end, and they're too smart to play into any of your dodges."

"We'll see! We'll see!" fumed the garage owner, as he went to the cell-room door and shook it to attract the attention of the turnkey.

"I'll see you once more-just once more, mind you, and that's to-morrow morning. You'll decide then, or you'll have a hard run of it."

Andy was left to himself. He walked around the stout cell room with some curiosity. There were two other prisoners in jail. Both were locked up in cells. One of them asked Andy for a drink of water. The other was asleep on his cot.

A clang at the barred door attracted Andy's attention again, and he reached it as the turnkey shouted out in a tone that sounded very official:

"Andrew Nelson!"

He stood aside for Andy to step out. An officer Andy had not seen before took him by the arm and led him up two flights of stairs to a large courtroom.

It had no visitors, but the judge sat on the bench. Near him was the prosecuting attorney and the court clerk. Talbot occupied a chair, and conversing with him was Farmer Jones.

"We enter the appearance of the prisoner in this case, your honor,"

immediately spoke the attorney, as if in a hurry to get through with the formalities.

"Let the clerk enter the same," ordered the judge in an indifferent tone. "Take the prisoner before the grand jury when it convenes."

"In the matter of bail--" again spoke the attorney.

"Arson. A pretty serious offense," said the judge. "The prisoner is held over in bonds of two thousand dollars."

Andy's heart sank. He had heard and read of cases where generally a few hundred dollars bail was asked. He had even calculated in his mind how he could call friends to his a.s.sistance who would go his surety for a small amount, but two thousand dollars.

"How are you, Andy?" said Jones, advancing and looking him over critically. Andy was a trifle pale, but his bearing was manly, his countenance open and honest. He was neatly dressed, and looked the energetic business boy all over, and evidently impressed the farmer that way.

"I'm glad to see you, Mr. Jones," he said respectfully.

"I suppose you feel a little hard agin' me, Andy, but I couldn't help it. That barn cost me eight hundred dollars."

"It was a serious loss, yes, sir," said Andy, "and I am sorry for you."

Jones fidgeted. Talbot was talking to the attorney, and the farmer seemed glad to get away from his company.

"See here, Andy," he said, edging a little nearer, "I've got boys of my own, and it makes me feel badly to see you in this fix."

"What did you place me here for, then?" demanded Andy.

"I-I thought-you see, Talbot had the evidence. He egged me on, so to speak. Honest and true, Andy, did you set fire to my barn?"

"Honest and true, Mr. Jones, I had no hand in it. Why should I? You have always been pleasant and good to me."

"Why, you see, I stopped you running away from Talbot that day."

"And you think I turned firebug out of spite? Oh, Mr. Jones!"

"H'm-see here, judge," and Jones moved up to the desk. "I don't know that I care to prosecute this case."

"Out of your hands, Mr. Jones," snapped the prosecuting attorney sharply. "The case must go to the grand jury."

"Andy-I-I'll come and see you," said Jones, as the officer marched Andy back to the jail room.