The High School Left End Part 2

d.i.c.k caught up the transmitter and answered.

"That you, d.i.c.k?" sounded the impatient voice of News Editor Bradley.

"This is d.i.c.k Prescott, Mr. Bradley."

"Then, for goodness' sake, can you hustle up here?"

"Of course I can."

"Ask your father if you can take up a late night job for me.

Then come on the jump. My men are all out, and everything is at odds and ends in the way of news. I can't get a single man, and I wish I had three at this minute."

"Dave Darrin is here. Can I bring him along?"

"Yes; he's not a reporter---but he may be able to help. Hustle."

"I'll be walking in through the doorway," laughed d.i.c.k, "by the time you've hung your transmitter up. Good-bye." Ting-a-ling-ling!

"Now, Dave, get your father on the jump, and ask his leave to go out on a late night story with me."

Fortunately there was no delay about this. Dave received the permission from home promptly enough. The two youngsters set out on a run.

What healthy boy of sixteen doesn't love to prowl late a night?

It is twenty-fold more fascinating when there's a mystery on tap, and a newspaper behind all the curiosity.

The longing of these st.u.r.dy chums for mystery and adventure was swiftly to be gratified---perhaps more so than they could have wished!

News Editor Bradley was waiting for them in the doorway of "The Blade" office, a frown on the journalistic face.

CHAPTER II

THE START OF THE DODGE MYSTERY

"This is the way it always goes," jerked out Bradley, as the two High School boys hurried into the office after him.

"One of my men is sick, and the other two are somewhere---where, I can't find out."

"All" his men sounded large enough; as a matter of fact, the only reporters "The Blade" employed were three young men on salary, and d.i.c.k Prescott, mainly as gleaner of school news. d.i.c.k didn't receive any salary, but was paid a dollar a column.

"What's happening, anyway?" d.i.c.k asked coolly.

"You know Theodore Dodge?" demanded Mr. Bradley.

"I know him when I see him; he never talks with me," Prescott replied.

"Theodore Dodge is the father of a fellow in our senior cla.s.s at High School," Dave put in, adding under his breath, "and the son is one of our football 'soreheads.'"

"Dodge has vanished," continued Bradley. "He went out early this morning, and hasn't been seen since. Tonight, just after dark, a man walking by the river, up above the bend, picked up a coat and hat on the bank. Letters in the pocket showed the coat to be Mr. Dodge's. The finder of the coat hurried to the Dodge house, and Mrs. Dodge hurriedly notified the police, asking Chief Coy to keep the whole matter quiet. Jerry (Chief Coy) doesn't know that we have a blessed word about this. But Jerry, his plain clothes man, Hemingway, and two other officers are out on the case. They have been on the job for nearly three hours. So far they haven't learned a word. They can't drag the river until daylight comes. Now, Prescott, what occurs to you as the thing to do?"

"I guess the only thing," replied d.i.c.k quietly, "is to find Theodore Dodge."

Mr. Bradley gasped.

"Well, yes; you have the right idea, young man. But can you find Dodge, d.i.c.k?"

"When do you go to press?"

"Latest at four o'clock in the morning."

"I think I can either find Theodore Dodge, or else find where he went to," Prescott replied, slowly. "Of course, that's brag---not promise."

"You get us the story---straight and in detail," cried Bradley, eagerly, "and there'll probably be a bit extra in it for you---a good bit, perhaps. If Dodge doesn't turn up without sensation this is going to be our big story for a week. Dodge, you know, is vice-president and actual head of the Second National Bank."

"Whew!" thought Dave Darrin, to himself. "It's easy enough for any suspicious person to imagine a story! But it might not be the right one."

"Some time ago," asked d.i.c.k thoughtfully, "didn't you publish a story about some of the big amounts of insurance carried by local rich men?"

"Yes," nodded Bradley.

"I think you stated that Theodore Dodge carried more than any other citizen of Gridley."

"Yes; he carries a quarter of a million dollars of insurance."

"Is the insurance payable to his widow, or others---or to his estate?"

"I don't know," mused News Editor Bradley, a very thoughtful look coming into his face.

"Well, it's worth while finding out," pursued d.i.c.k. "See here, suppose Dodge has been using the bank's funds, and found himself in a corner that he couldn't get out of? Then, if the insurance money goes to his widow, it would be hers, and no court could take it from her for the benefit of his creditors. If it goes to the estate, instead, then the insurance money, when paid over, could be seized and applied to cover any shortage of the missing man at the bank."

"So that-----?" interrogated the news editor, his own eyes twinkling shrewdly.

"Why, in case---just in case, you understand---that Mr. Dodge has gone and gotten himself into trouble over the bank's funds, then it's probable that he has done one of two things. Either, in despair he has killed himself, so that either his widow or the bank will be protected. If the missing man didn't do away with himself, then probably he has put up the appearance of suicide in the hope that the officers of the law will be fooled of his trail, and that either a wronged bank or a deserted wife might get the insurance money. Of course, Mrs. Dodge might even be a party to a contemplated fraud, though that's not a fair inference against her unless something turns up to make it seem highly probable."

"My boy," cried Mr. Bradley admiringly, "you've all the instincts and qualities of the good newspaper man. I hope you'll take up the work when you get through the High School. But now to business!"

"Where do you want me to go? Where do you want me to take up the trail? Where it started, just above the river bend? That's out in the country, a mile and a half from here."

"Darrin," begged the news editor, "won't you step to the 'phone and ring up Getchel's livery stable? Ask the man in charge to we want a horse with a little speed and a good deal of endurance."

While Dave was busy at the wire d.i.c.k and the news editor talked over the affair in low tones.

"With the horse you can cover a lot of ground," suggested Bradley.

"And you're right about taking up the trail where it started. In half an hour, if you don't strike something big, you can drive back here on the jump for further orders. And don't forget the use of the 'phone, if you're at a distance. Also, if you strike something, and want to follow it further, you can have Darrin drive in with anything that you've struck up to the minute. Hustle, both of you.

And, Darrin, we'll pay you for your trouble tonight."

Horse and buggy were soon at the door. d.i.c.k sprang in, picking up the reins. Dave leaped in at the other side. The horse started away at a steady trot.