Dave Porter in the Far North Part 24

"Good-morning, madam," said Dave, politely. "I am looking for a young gentleman named Nicholas Jasniff. I believe he boards here."

"Oh, so that's it," said the woman. She eyed Dave and Roger in a suspicious manner. "Who told you he was boarding here?"

"We heard so down at our hotel."

"He isn't here--he went away last week--owing me one pound six," was the spiteful answer. "I wish I had my hands on him. It's Kate Clever would teach him a lesson, the scamp!"

"So he ran away owing you some board money?" said Roger.

"He did that."

"And you haven't any idea where he is?"

"I have and I haven't. Are you friends of his?"

"Not exactly, but we wish very much to find him."

"I am not the one to do him a favor--after him treating me so shabbily,"

said the woman, spitefully.

"You'll not be doing him a favor," returned Dave. "To tell you the truth, I want to catch him for some other wrong he's been doing."

"Oh, that's it, is it?" The woman became more interested. "You are from the States, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"He was from the States. He pretended that he wasn't, but I knew differently. He got letters from America--I saw one of them."

"And where did he go, if you please?" asked Dave.

The tall woman drew up her angular shoulders and pursed up her thin lips.

"If you'll pay that board money I'll help you to find him."

"Very well, if we find him I'll pay you the one pound and six shillings," answered Dave. He did not wish to waste time that might be valuable.

"Come in the parlor and I'll tell you what I know," said Kate Clever.

They entered the little musty and dusty parlor, with its old haircloth furniture and its cheap bric-a-brac. The woman dusted two of the chairs with her ap.r.o.n and told them to be seated.

"I am a poor widow," she explained. "I have to make my living by taking boarders. This Jasniff paid me only one week's board. He said he expected to get some money, but while I was waiting he took his bag and box and slipped away one day when I was to market."

"I thought he had plenty of money," said Roger. "He ran away with enough."

"Ran away with enough? Was he a thief?"

"Yes."

"O dear! Then I am glad he is out of my house. Really! we might all have been murdered in our beds!" And the woman held up her thin hands in horror.

After that she told what she could of Nick Jasniff. She said he had spent a good part of his time, both day and night, down in the heart of London, visiting the theaters and other places of amus.e.m.e.nt. Once he had complained of being robbed of his pocketbook on a tram-car, and again he had lost himself in Cheapside and fallen in with some thugs who had tried to carry him into an alleyway. In the fight that followed he had had an eye blackened and the sleeve torn from his coat. She had sewed on the sleeve again, but he had paid her nothing for the work.

"He spoke once of visiting an old friend named Chesterfield, who lived in Siddingate," said the woman. "He said he might meet his father there.

Maybe if you can find this Chesterfield you'll find him."

"We can try, anyway," answered Dave. "Is that all you can tell about him?"

"I don't know of much else, Mr.---- I haven't learned your name yet."

"My name is David Porter. This is my friend Roger Morr."

"Porter? Why, I've heard that name somewhere." The woman mused for a moment. "Why, yes, Nicholas Jasniff had a friend by that name--a gentleman much older than you."

"A friend!" gasped Dave. "Oh, that can't be true, Mrs. Clever!"

"Well, I heard him say something about a man named Porter. They had met somewhere--I think in London. The man had a daughter named Laura, and I think this Jasniff had been calling upon her."

CHAPTER XVI

SOME IMPORTANT INFORMATION

Dave felt like groaning when he heard Mrs. Clever's words. Then what Jasniff had written in the letter to Gus Plum was true--he had met Mr.

Porter and Laura. Had he tried to set himself up as a friend? It was more than likely.

"And father and Laura don't know what a rascal he is," Dave murmured to his chum. "Oh, I feel as if I could wring his neck! For all I know, he has been making himself agreeable to my sister. Isn't it enough to make one's blood boil?"

"It certainly is, Dave. But I fancy your sister will soon be able to size up such a fellow as Jasniff."

"Perhaps, although he can be very oily when he wants to be. Oh, if only I knew where my folks were!" sighed the boy from the country.

Mrs. Clever could tell nothing more about Nick Jasniff or about the Porters. But she promised to send Dave word if she heard anything, and seeing that she was poor Dave paid her the money out of which Jasniff had swindled her, about six dollars and a half. Then the two youths took their departure, stating they might call again.

"Let me know beforehand," said Mrs. Clever, "and I'll treat you handsome-like." She offered them some cakes and ale, but they politely declined the refreshments.

From the woman they learned the easiest way to reach Siddingate, and arrived at that London suburb shortly after the dinner-hour. Here they procured a hearty meal at the leading hotel and from a directory learned that six Chesterfields lived in that vicinity--one an ironmonger, otherwise a hardware dealer; another a draper, that is, a dry-goods merchant; and a third a stoker, which meant that he was a locomotive fireman. The other three were not put down as in business.

"I don't think we'll try to hunt up the stoker," said Dave. "Most likely he's off on a run. We can try the storekeepers and then the others."

The ironmonger, a burly, red-faced man, had never heard of Jasniff, but the draper, while he did not know anybody of that name, said that one of the other Chesterfields, whose first name was Philip, had some relatives in the United States, including some folks who were now traveling either in England or Scotland.

"Thank you; we'll hunt him up," said Dave. "Where does he live?"

"Any cabman can tell you," was the answer. "Better ride out--it's a cold walk."

It was cold, with the snow covering the ground to the depth of two inches or more. The air was very raw, and a regular London fog was settling down over the land.