Two Boys of the Battleship Part 3

"We can take out fishing and excursion parties, and make money that way," laughed Ned. Really it did not seem so bad as it had at first.

"I guess you won't have to do that right away," said Mr. Arden. "Though if the money goes, all will be wiped out and we'll lose everything-including this house."

The boys rather gasped at that. It was the only home they had ever known.

"But you haven't yet told us why they can take you away," insisted Frank.

"I'll tell you directly. It seems that the political party in power in Uridio has accused me of having furnished arms and munitions of war to their enemies, the revolutionists. It is a political trick, but I am not, at present, able to prove my innocence."

"Did you help take part in a real revolution?" asked Ned. "If you did-say-cracky! Why didn't you tell us?" His eyes sparkled.

"No, I had no part in the revolution, either actually or in furnishing money or arms," said his uncle. "I was simply doing business with the revolutionary party-buying and selling goods and trying to make an honest living. But for some reasons of their own, the political tricksters down there are making trouble for me.

"It seems that the property of some United States citizens was damaged in some recent fighting, and they have demanded money satisfaction. Our government has taken up their claims, and they look to me to settle the loss."

"Why to you?" asked Frank.

"Because it is falsely a.s.serted that I financed the revolution. It is all pretty complicated, and I don't expect you boys to understand it all. But the pith of the matter is right here. The United States citizens who have suffered losses in Uridio are trying to make me pay.

To do so would take all your money and mine that is invested down in the South American republic, and we would be ruined."

"And if you fight the claim?" asked Ned.

"I have fought the claim, but witnesses were suborned and I cannot prove that I was in no way responsible."

Frank whistled.

"It looks serious," he said.

"It is serious!" declared his uncle. "I have been served with legal notices, and the time limit is almost up. I must either settle or go to jail."

"Jail?" cried Frank, stung by the word.

"Well, that's what many persons would call it," said his uncle, with a grim smile. "Really, it will be a federal prison, for it is the United States federal authorities who are acting against me. I won't actually be locked up in a cell, I suppose, nor set to breaking stone, and I may not have to wear stripes. You see it is a sort of political business accusation against me."

"But why do you have to go to jail, or to a federal prison, at all?"

asked Ned. "Can't you be bailed?"

"Too late for that after conviction. What I need now is money to continue the fight."

"Use your own money-or ours!" cried Frank, eagerly. Both lads loved their uncle almost as a father.

"The trouble is that your money and mine will be attached-held in escrow, I believe they call it-to settle for these damages in case I can not prove my innocence of having financed a revolution," Mr. Arden declared. "So with our money tied up that way, none will be available, and I'll have to be-well, let us call it detained-for years," and once more he smiled grimly.

Ned and Frank did not know what to think. They asked their uncle many questions, and he answered them as best he could; but they did not understand all the details.

"As near as I can figure out," said Frank, when he and his brother went up to their rooms just before supper, "Uncle Phil is accused of starting a revolution, which he didn't. And in the revolution some damage was done that must be paid for, and they're looking to him to put up the money. If he doesn't they'll lock him up, and put his money in their own strong boxes, where he can't use it to fight the case further."

"That's about the way it sizes up," agreed Ned.

"Well, what's the next move?" asked his brother.

"Hanged if I know," said Ned. "I can't think of anything. And I haven't got any too much cash on hand," he added, as he went over to a box on his bureau, where he kept his money.

"It sure is a queer situation," conceded Frank. "If we were only on a battleship now, we could go down to that little measly one-horse South American republic, unlimber our big guns and tell 'em to fork over our money, and dig up evidence to clear Uncle Phil, or we'd shoot!"

"Yes," sighed Ned, "we might do that. But the chances of our getting on a battleship are about a thousand to one."

If he had only known what was coming!

After supper the boys had another talk with their uncle, and he showed them some of the legal papers that had been served on him that day just before they came in out of the rain.

"How long before you may be confined?" asked Frank.

"Three days," was the answer. "But I'm going to try and stave it off."

It was a vain attempt, however. Three days later, when the storm had cleared, the boys came in from a fishing trip and found Mrs. Brun weeping, and the servants very much upset.

"What has happened?" demanded Frank of the housekeeper.

"Your dear-uncle-they came and took him away," she sobbed.

"Took him away! Who?"

"I don't know. But he told me to tell you he was under arrest, and that you would understand."

"Under arrest!" exclaimed Frank, and as Ned echoed the words the brothers looked apprehensively at each other.

CHAPTER IV-SHIFTING FOR THEMSELVES

Gradually, from the very much upset housekeeper and from the servants, Ned and Frank obtained an account of what had happened. Their uncle, who had been busily engaged in the intervening days in trying to straighten matters out, had arrived from New York in the early afternoon.

He had been busy in the library over papers and doc.u.ments, when two strangers called and spent some time with him. There were loud words, the housekeeper said, and then Mr. Arden had come out, accompanied by the two men.

"He told me to tell you," Mrs. Brun said, "that they were taking him to Atlanta."

"Atlanta!" exclaimed Ned.

"There is a federal prison there," said Frank. "Well, what happened next?" he asked the housekeeper.

"Your uncle begged and pleaded for time, saying he wanted to see you, and tell you of certain matters. But the men-they must have been detectives I guess-"

"Probably secret service men," interrupted Frank. "But go on, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Brun."

"They took him away," said the housekeeper. "That's all there was to it.

They said there was a train they could get from New York to-night, and they hurried off. Your uncle only had time to pack a suit case of clothes, and they took him away. And what's to become of all of us, or who's to look after things, I don't know!" she sobbed.