Dave Porter and His Double Part 10

"You know well enough what you've done, Porton--buying a whole lot of goods in my name."

"What are you talking about? I didn't do any such thing!" was the bl.u.s.tering reply. The former moving-picture actor was recovering from his surprise.

"I can prove that you did; and I'm going to hold you responsible for it," answered Dave, calmly.

"Look here, Porter, I don't want any such talk from you!" and now Ward Porton doubled up his fists and stuck out his chin. "I've stood all I am going to stand from you. I want you to leave me alone."

"Porton, you can bl.u.s.ter all you please, but it won't do you any good," answered Dave, and his voice had a more positive ring to it than before. "You thought you could play this trick on me and get away with it, but I am going to show you it can't be done. I am going to hand you over to the authorities and see that you go to jail."

"If you think you can do that, Porter, you've got another guess coming. You clear out and let me alone or I'll make it hot for you;"

and Ward Porton shook his fist in Dave's face.

The manner of the young man who had been obtaining goods in Dave's name was so aggressive that many a youth would have been intimidated and inclined to withdraw. But that was not our hero's way. He was righteously indignant, not only because of what the rascal before him had done, but also because of his present threat. Without more ado he seized hold of Porton's upraised arm and backed the fellow against a tree.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HE SEIZED PORTON'S UPRAISED ARM AND BACKED THE FELLOW AGAINST A TREE.--_Page 70._]

"Now, you just listen to me," he said sternly. "Your bluff and bl.u.s.ter won't do you any good. I am going to hand you over to the authorities, and that is all there is to it. You've got to behave yourself and stop threatening me, or I'll give you something that you won't want."

"You imp, you! Let go of me!" roared Porton, and, bringing around his disengaged hand, he struck Dave a glancing blow on the chin.

If anything more was needed to arouse our hero's just ire, this blow proved more than sufficient. As much anger as he had ever felt in his life surged up in Dave's heart. He drew back, letting go his hold--and the next instant his fist shot out and landed straight on Ward Porton's nose.

"Ouch!" spluttered the former moving-picture actor, and not without reason, for the stinging blow our hero had delivered not only hurt exceedingly, but also caused the blood to flow.

"Now will you behave yourself and come with me, or do you want some more?" demanded Dave.

"I'll fix you for that! Just wait!" bellowed Porton; and then he made a savage rush at our hero.

The next instant they were locked in each other's arms and swaying from side to side, each doing his utmost to gain the mastery.

CHAPTER VIII

THE Ba.s.sWOOD FORTUNE

Over and over in the snow of the woods rolled Dave and Porton, first one being on top and then the other. Each was enc.u.mbered by his heavy overcoat and his gloves, so that to send in a decisive blow was practically impossible.

The former moving-picture actor fought desperately, for he had no desire to go to jail, and he realized that Dave meant to send him to such a place if he could possibly accomplish it.

Dave, on his part, was angered through and through, not only because of what Porton had done at the stores, but also because of the way the former moving-picture actor had threatened him.

The encounter had occurred at a spot where the trees were somewhat scattered and where rocks were numerous. As the two continued their struggle they sent the loose snow flying in all directions and often struck on some of the rocks.

At last Dave managed to get his opponent by the throat, and he forced Porton's head backward against a large stone. In the meantime, however, the rascal managed to double up one of his legs, and he gave Dave a shove in the stomach which sent him rolling over on his side.

"Now I'll fix you!" panted Porton, and, releasing his right hand, he picked up a loose stone which their scuffle had exposed to view. The next instant he brought the stone up, hitting our hero on the side of the head. It was a furious blow, and for the moment Dave was stunned.

He let go of the other's throat, and as he did this Ward Porton arose to his feet.

"Now I guess you'll let me alone!" he snarled; and aimed a vicious kick at Dave's head. But the youth, even though somewhat bewildered, had sense enough left to dodge, and the blow landed on his shoulder.

Then Porton turned and dashed wildly along the woods path leading in the direction of Barnett.

It took our hero several seconds to collect himself sufficiently to arise. His ear was ringing from the contact with the stone, which fortunately had been a smooth one, and his shoulder also ached, even though the kick had been delivered through the padding of his overcoat.

He gazed along the path, and was just in time to see Porton disappearing around a bend.

If Dave had been thoroughly angry before, he was now even more so; and, shaking his head to clear his brain, he started on a run after the fugitive. He reached the turn in the path to see Porton emerging from the woods and taking to the highway leading to the railroad depot.

"He must be running to catch a train," thought our hero. "And if that is so I'll have to hustle or he'll get away."

By the time Dave gained the highway leading to Barnett, Ward Porton had reached the vicinity of the first of the houses in the village.

Here he paused to glance back, and, seeing his pursuer, shook his fist at Dave. Then he went on about fifty yards farther, suddenly turning into a lane between two of the houses.

"He's afraid to go to the depot for fear I'll get after him before a train comes in," thought Dave. "Well, I'll catch him anyway, unless he takes to the woods."

What Dave had surmised was correct. Ward Porton had thought to get on a train that would stop at Barnett inside of the next ten minutes.

Now, however, he realized that to go to the depot and hang around until the cars took their departure would probably mean capture.

"Confound the luck! How did he manage to get on my trail so quickly?"

muttered the former moving-picture actor to himself. "Now I'll have to lay low and do my best to sneak off to some other place. I wish it wasn't so cold. When I stop running I'll be half frozen. But, anyway, I had the satisfaction of giving him one in the ear with that rock and another in the shoulder with my foot," and he smiled grimly, as he placed his handkerchief to his bleeding nose.

By the time Dave reached the lane between the houses, Porton was nowhere in sight. There were a number of footprints in the snow, and following these Dave pa.s.sed a barn and some cow-sheds. From this point a single pair of footprints led over a short field into the very woods where the encounter had taken place.

"He's going to hide in the woods, sure enough," reasoned our hero. "Or else maybe he'll try to get back to Clayton, or Bixter."

"Hi! What's going on here?" cried a voice from the cow-shed, and a man showed himself, followed by two well-grown boys.

"I'm after a fellow who just ran across that field into the woods,"

explained Dave, quickly. "He's a thief. I want to catch him and have him locked up."

"Oh, say! I thought I saw somebody," exclaimed one of the boys. "I thought it might be Tom Jones goin' huntin'."

In as few words as possible Dave explained the situation to the farmer and his two sons, and they readily agreed to accompany him into the woods.

"But you'll have a big job trying to locate that chap in those woods,"

was the farmer's comment. "The growth back here is very thick, and my boys have been lost in it more than once."

"Huh! we always found our way out again," grumbled the older of the sons, who did not like this statement on his parent's part.

"Yes, Billy, but the woods are mighty thick," returned his brother.

"If that feller don't look out he may get lost and get froze to death to-night, unless he knows enough to make a fire."

It was easy enough to follow the footprints to the edge of the woods.

But once there, the brushwood and rocks were so thick that to follow the marks one would have had to have the eyes of an expert trailer.

Dave and the farmer, with the two boys, searched around for the best part of a quarter of an hour, but without success.