Alger Horatio Jr.
The Erie Train Boy

CHAPTER XIII.
THE HOTEL CLERK'S MISTAKE

"What was the name of your room-mate, Fred?" asked Frank Hamblin, as they went down-stairs.

"I didn't notice. He registered before me."

"Suppose we look and see. It may be well to know."

They opened the hotel register, and saw written in a bold, free hand:

"F. GRANT PALMER, CHICAGO."

"It may be another Fred," suggested Frank.

"Or Frank. Either name would do for a burglar," said Mr. Ferguson, smiling. "But it is hardly consistent with professional etiquette to joke on such a subject. I will endeavor to forget while we are walking together that one of the party is an offender against the laws, or under suspicion as such."

"I want to forget it myself," said Fred, "or it will spoil my enjoyment of Niagara."

"I wonder where Mr. F. Grant Palmer is now," said Frank. "I feel sure he is the real burglar."

"Then he has probably gone over into Canada," returned Fred. "It is unlucky for me that he left the watch and chain, but lucky for Mr. Carver, who will now recover them."

Meanwhile let us follow Mr. Palmer, whose movements are of interest to us in connection with the suspicion he has managed to throw on Fred. When he left the Lynch House he proposed, as a measure of safety, to go over to the Canada side, and indeed he did so. He made his way to the Clifton House, and registered there, depositing his valise at the office while he went in to breakfast.

"We have no room at present," said the clerk, politely, "but by the middle of the forenoon we shall undoubtedly have a few vacancies. Will that answer?"

"Oh, yes," said Palmer easily. "I am in no special hurry for a room, but will take breakfast and go out for a walk."

It did occur to Mr. Palmer that the valise, containing as it did the bonds stolen from Mr. Carver in Elmira, should be carefully guarded. However, it would surely be as safe in the care of the hotel clerk of the Clifton as in any hotel room, and probably even safer. So he ate breakfast with an easy mind, and then, purchasing a cigar, took a walk along the road which presents the best views of the Falls.

Mr. Palmer felt very complacent.

"It is a blessing to gentlemen in my profession," he soliloquized, "that Canada is so conveniently near. Here the minions of the law cannot touch us for any little indiscretion committed under the stars and stripes. I hear people talking of annexing Canada to the States, but to that I am unalterably opposed. I should have to retire from business, and I am not able to do that at present."

He was standing at a convenient point surveying the Falls, when he felt a light touch on his shoulder. Such was the force of habit that Mr. Palmer started violently, and turned round nervously.

It was a stout man with a smiling face that confronted him.

"Ha, Palmer!" said the new arrival. "Did you mistake me for – "

"How are you, Wellington? I am glad to see you."

"Instead of – "

"Oh, pshaw! A man naturally starts when he is tapped on the shoulder unexpectedly."

"I see. You were admiring the Falls."

"Yes."

"There is a good deal of romance in your composition, my dear Palmer," said his friend banteringly. "Anything new?"

"Well, yes," said Palmer, glancing around him cautiously.

"Made a strike, eh?"

"Well, something of the sort."

"What is it?"

"I managed to have a stroke of luck at Elmira, yesterday afternoon."

"How much did you get away with?"

"Hush! don't speak so plainly. Suppose any one should hear you?"

"My dear fellow, there is no one within two hundred yards."

"Well, there must be five thousand dollars in bonds and money."

"Very neat, upon my word! You are in luck!"

"How about you?"

"I made a small raise at Buffalo – a paltry three hundred dollars' worth. It was hardly worth the trouble of taking. Still, a man must live."

"To be sure!"

"Now with what you picked up you can live a year or two in comfort.

Upon my soul, I envy you. Are you suspected?"

"I have managed to divert suspicion, I think;" and Palmer told his friend the story of his secreting the gold watch and chain in Fred's luggage.

"Very shrewd!" said his friend approvingly. "Palmer, you are a credit to our profession. I shall be content to take lessons of you."

"Oh, you are only joking," said Palmer, his expression showing, however, that he felt proud of the compliment.

They took a long and leisurely walk together, talking over their mutual experiences. They had known each other for ten years, having been fellow boarders together as far back as that at Sing Sing, since then neither had been caught, though both had been engaged in violating the laws. Their similar professions had given them a common bond of sympathy, and they found so much satisfaction in each other's company that the time slipped by insensibly, and it was half-past twelve before they found their way back to the Clifton.

Mr. Palmer stepped up to the desk.

"Have you a room for me yet?" he inquired.

"Yes, sir; I can give you No. 67. Here, front!"

A hall boy answered the summons.

"Take the gentleman up to 67," said the clerk.

"Any luggage, sir?"

"You may hand me my valise, if you please."

"Beg pardon; here it is."

"Come up with me, Wellington. We'll continue our talk up stairs."

Palmer merely glanced at the valise, and continued talking with his friend. The hall boy unlocked the door of No. 67 and led the way inside.

It was a pleasant room, and Palmer looked about him approvingly.

"I shall be very comfortable here," he said.

"Is everything right?" asked the hall boy, lingering.

Palmer smiled, drew a quarter from his pocket and put it into the ready hand of the young man.

"You take American coins, don't you?" he asked with a smile.

"Oh, dear, yes, sir. Thank you!"

"That is all for the present. If I want anything I will ring."

Wellington scanned the valise with an eye of interest.

"So that holds the swag, does it?" he asked.

"My dear friend, don't use such vulgar terms!" said Palmer reproachfully. "It's not only inelegant, but it's imprudent. Suppose anybody heard you?"

"Your reproof is just, Palmer. I am rather a blunderer, I admit. I see you are traveling under a false name."

"What do you mean?"

Wellington pointed to a small card attached to the valise. It bore the name of Edmund Lawrence.

When Palmer's glance fell on this card, a quick glance of dismay swept over his face.

"That isn't my valise!" he said.

"Not your valise!"

"No. The clerk has made a mistake. I must see him at once!" continued Palmer, in an agitated voice. "He may have given my valise to this man Lawrence, and in that case I am ruined. Stay here till I return."

Palmer seized the satchel, opened the door, and descended to the office in breathless haste. As he dashed up to the desk the clerk eyed him in mild surprise.

"What is the matter?" he asked.

"Matter enough! You have given me the wrong valise."

"Is it possible?"

"See here; this belongs to a party named Lawrence – Edmund Lawrence.

Give me mine at once."

The clerk looked troubled.

"I am afraid I can't," he faltered apologetically. "I gave Mr. Lawrence your valise – you will observe that they are very much alike – and he carried it away two hours since."

Palmer felt ready to drop. To think that after all his careful planning everything should be jeopardized by a hotel clerk's error.

"Do you know what you have done?" he said, in a hollow voice. "My valise contained two thousand dollars' worth of securities."

"I am terribly sorry, Mr. Palmer, but I don't think you will suffer any loss. This Mr. Lawrence looks like a high-toned gentleman. You can see him within an hour. He went from here to the International Hotel on the American side of the Falls. I advise you to go over at once, take his bag with you, and exchange."

CHAPTER XIV.
THE MISSING VALISE

That he was imprudent in trusting himself on the American side Mr. Grant Palmer was well aware, but he felt that he was in danger of losing the entire proceeds of his skilful burglary, and to this he could not make up his mind. Besides the danger was not very great. Why should any one suppose that an ordinary valise contained stolen property? There was nothing remarkable about the appearance of his hand-bag. Hundreds of them are carried every day. If it were opened by a dishonest person, of course it would be doubtful if he ever got it back, but the clerk at the Clifton had said that this Mr. Lawrence seemed like a high-toned gentleman, who would of course scorn to avail himself of property not his own.

"Risk or no risk!" decided Palmer, "I must go over and reclaim my property."

Leaving him to cross to the American side, we will follow Mr. Lawrence, who, not at all suspecting that the valise he had received from the clerk was not his own, repaired to the International Hotel and engaged one of the best rooms in the house, for he was a man of ample means. He laid his valise on the bed and went down-stairs. Later in the day he went out to take his customary walk.

Meanwhile Fred and his two companions walked about in a leisurely manner, surveying the Falls from different points, and finally went to Goat Island. Here they sat down on a bench and surrendered themselves to the fascinations of the scene.

"Well, what do you think of Niagara, Fred?" asked Frank.

"It is even finer than I had supposed," replied the train boy.

"Some people are disappointed," said Mr. Ferguson, "because they expect too much. The Falls of Montmorency are considerably higher but not nearly as wide. There are some cascades in the Yosemite Valley of over a thousand feet descent, but they are only a few feet wide. For grandeur Niagara excels them all."

"I shouldn't like to be swept over the Falls," said Fred.

"It must be terrible!" said Frank, with a shudder.

"The reality is worse than any picture drawn by the imagination. Ten years since it happened to me to see a poor wretch drawn down to destruction over the cataract."

The boys looked eager for the story, and he proceeded.

"I may state," continued the detective, "that I was indirectly the cause of the tragedy. A defaulting bank cashier had got as far as this point on his way to Canada, which as now was a haven of refuge to gentlemen of his character. I was close upon his track, and he was in imminent danger of capture. There seemed to be only one way of escape – crossing the river above the Falls. By some means he obtained a row-boat, and being a fair rower set out on his dangerous trip, exulting in having outwitted me and made his escape. I remember very well how he stood up in the boat, and with a smile on his face waved me a mock adieu, as he impelled the little craft out toward the middle of the river.

"He was a strong, sturdy rower, but he had no conception of the strength and rapidity of the current. He battled manfully, but the boat immediately began to tend towards the cataract with continually increasing rapidity. At length he came to realize the fate that certainly awaited him. His smile was succeeded by a look of despair. I can see even now the expression of terror and desperation, formed upon the poor fellow's face when he saw that, struggle as he might, there was no help or deliverance, I am sure at that time he would have welcomed me as a friend and savior, and gone with me willingly to prison, if only he could have been rescued from the impending doom. Still, however, he plied the oars with desperate vigor and would not resign himself to his fate. I was painfully excited, and in the poor fellow's peril quite forgot that he was a criminal of whom I was in pursuit. The end came speedily. When six feet from the edge of the cataract, he dropped his oars, threw up his hands, and an instant later boat and man were swept down into the gulf below."

"Was his body ever found?" asked Fred.

"Yes, but it was so mangled as to be almost beyond recognition. Many a time when looking at the Falls I have pictured to myself the unhappy victim of that day's tragedy."

"I suppose," said Frank, "it is impossible to go over the cataract and live."

"Not if all stories are to be believed. There is a boy in the village here who is said to have gone over the Falls, and yet he does not seem to have suffered any injury. The same story is told of a cat, but cats are noted for having nine lives, and therefore the story is not so surprising."

After a little more chat the three left the island and returned to the mainland. They had hardly reached it when a telegraph boy approached Mr. Ferguson and handed him a despatch.

He opened it and read as follows:

ELMIRA, SUNDAY.

My nephew, Edmund Lawrence, is at Niagara. Communicate with him.

PHILO CARVER.

"This is your business," said the detective, handing the telegram to Fred.

"Let us try to find Mr. Lawrence," said Fred, after reading it.

"It will be the best way. Mr. Carver does not mention at what hotel his nephew is staying."

"Probably he does not know."

"Undoubtedly you are right."

"What will you do?"

"There is only one thing to do to call at the principal hotels, and look over the registers. We will go first to the International."

"Very well, sir."

Ferguson scanned Fred with a smile.

"You certainly don't act like one under suspicion," he said.

Fred smiled in return. "I find it hard to realize that I am a suspected burglar," he responded.

"So do I. Let us hope that you will very soon be cleared from suspicion."

The detective and the two boys turned their steps towards the spacious and attractive International.

"It seems a little ahead of the Lynch House," said Fred, "but probably the prices at the latter suit my pocketbook better."

They stepped on the piazza, and went into the office.

Mr. Ferguson opened the hotel register, and among the recent entries found the name of Edmund Lawrence.

"Is Mr. Lawrence in?" he asked the clerk.

"Yes, sir; he came in from a walk five minutes since."

"I will send up my card."

The detective wrote on a blank card:

OSCAR FERGUSON,

DETECTIVE.

Important.

This was handed to a hall boy, who took it up to Mr. Lawrence's room, and returned with a message that the gentleman was to come up at once.

"I think you will have to go with me," said Ferguson to Fred. "It won't do for me to give you a chance to escape."

"That is the last thing I have in mind," said the train-boy; "but I shall be glad to see Mr. Lawrence."

Edmund Lawrence, a pleasant-looking man of middle age, looked somewhat surprised when turning his eyes toward the door, he saw Ferguson enter, followed by two boys.

"You wish to see me on important business?" he said interrogatively.

"Yes, sir."

"And you are a detective?"

"Yes, sir."

"I hope that I have not fallen under any suspicion."

"Not at all. Have you heard that your uncle – Philo Carver, of Elmira – has been the victim of a burglary?"

"No! Tell me about it."

The detective told the story, and Mr. Lawrence listened with great interest.

"Is any one suspected?" he asked.

"A party has been arrested on suspicion," answered the detective.

"Indeed! who is it?"

"This boy!" answered Ferguson, pointing to Fred.

"Impossible!" ejaculated Lawrence, eying Fred with incredulous amazement.

CHAPTER XV.
MR. PALMER WALKS INTO A TRAP

"Nevertheless it is true. I arrested him at the Lynch House this morning," affirmed the detective.

"Do you believe him guilty?" asked Mr. Lawrence, noting with perplexity Fred's open countenance and tranquil manner.

"No. Still, circumstances are against him."

"Please explain."

"I found your uncle's gold watch and chain in his bundle?"

"Is it possible?"

"It is quite true, Mr. Lawrence," said Fred calmly. "Mr. Ferguson will allow me to say that I was as much surprised as he to find them. The bundle was a small one and only contained a shirt and collar which I bought at Jersey City yesterday morning. I can only say that the watch was not in the bundle then."

"Perhaps," said Lawrence, who was favorably impressed by Fred's openness, "you have some theory as to the manner in which the watch got into your bag."

"Yes, sir, I have. I had for a room-mate a stranger – a man whom I only met last evening after the train arrived. We fell in with each other the way to the hotel. We were obliged to room together on account of there being but one room vacant at the hotel."

"What was the man's appearance?"

"He was rather tall, thin, and dark complexioned. Though it was late he did not go to bed at once, but sat up for a while finishing a book in which he was interested. When I awoke in the morning he was gone."

"You think he was the real burglar?"

"Yes, sir."

"What is your reason?"

"Because it must have been he that put the watch and chain in my bundle."

"With a view of diverting suspicion from himself?"

"Yes, sir."

"One question more. When were you in Elmira, last?"

"I was never in Elmira at all," said Fred promptly. "I have never been so far West before."

"What was your object in making your present journey?"

"I came to make money," answered Fred, smiling.

"That answer may go against you," said the detective.

"Not when I explain that I am the train boy. I have usually made short runs, but yesterday morning the superintendent told me I was to go to Niagara, and gave me permission to stay over Sunday to have a chance to see the Falls. I began to think I would not see them, after all, but Mr. Ferguson was kind enough to walk out with me, and let me have a view of them."

"Is this boy also a train boy?" asked Lawrence, indicating Frank Hamblin.

"No; he is related to the clerk of the Lynch House, and was kind enough to come up to my room and keep me company."

"Who has the watch?" asked Lawrence, after a pause. "I have," answered the detective, producing it. Lawrence took it from his hand.

"It is my uncle's watch, sure enough," he said. "I remember it a dozen years since. He sent to Europe for it."

"His name is in it," said Ferguson. "But for that I might not have recognized it as one of the articles lost."

"Do you know what was taken besides?"

"Money and securities, I am informed, but to what value I have not learned."

"You think the boy's room-mate has them in his possession?"

"There seems to be little doubt of it."

"Where do you think he is?"

"On the Canada side, no doubt."

"He went there this morning?"

"Yes."

"I was myself at the Clifton House this morning, and I now remember the arrival of a man presenting the appearance of this young fellow's room-mate. He is probably still at the Clifton House."

"Then he is beyond my jurisdiction," said Ferguson.

"Do you remember what luggage he had?" asked Lawrence, turning to Fred.

"He had a small valise, about the size of this," said Fred, his eyes resting on the satchel which Lawrence had brought from the Clifton, and thrown down carelessly. "Why," continued Fred, in excitement, "this is his valise. I recognize it by a dark spot on the side."

"What do you mean?" said Lawrence sharply. "This is my valise."

He took it in his hand, and uttered an ejaculation.

"The boy is right! This is not my valise."

"Do you mean to say this valise belongs to the man who roomed with you last night?" demanded die detective.

"Yes, I feel sure of it."

"Then – good Heavens! – it no doubt contains the property stolen from my uncle. Mr. Ferguson, shall we be justified in opening it?"

"I will take the responsibility," said the detective.

He took from his pocket a bent wire, and dexterously inserting it in the lock opened the valise.

All gathered eagerly about it, anxious to ascertain whether their suspicions were correct.

There were a few articles of underwear, which the detective took out hastily and laid upon the bed.

"Ha, here we have it!" he exclaimed triumphantly as he drew out two long envelopes, such as are employed for bonds and securities. "I will take the liberty to open them."

One envelope proved to contain two one thousand dollar railroad bonds. The other contained two U. S. Government bonds of five hundred dollars each, and miscellaneous securities all together amounting to three thousand dollars more.

"A very clever capture on my word!" said Ferguson. "Really, Mr.

Lawrence, you have beaten me in my own line."

"I am entitled to no credit. It belongs to the boy who identified the valise. I assure you the wrong bag was given me at the Clifton most fortunately. I am content to lose the few articles which my own contained for the sake of recovering my uncle's property. It really seems like an interposition of Providence."

"I suspect the thief will feel very ill-satisfied with the exchange. I wonder what he will do about it."

There was little chance for speculation on this point. There was a knock at the door, and a hall boy put in his head.

"There is a gentleman below who wishes to see you, Mr. Lawrence," he said. "Here is his card."

Mr. Lawrence took from his hand a card on which had been written the name

F. GRANT PALMER.

"That is the man, Mr. Lawrence," exclaimed Fred in excitement. "He has come for his valise."

"Bring Mr. Palmer up in about five minutes," said Lawrence; "not sooner."

"All right, sir!"

"Now let us repack the valise," said the detective. "I always carry a large bunch of keys with me, and shall probably find one that will relock it."

The shirts, socks, and other articles which had been taken from the bag were carefully replaced, and Ferguson, as he had thought probable, found a key which fitted the lock. Then the valise was laid carefully on the sofa.

"Mr. Palmer must not see us, and particularly the train-boy," said the detective, "or he will think something is up. Where can you conceal us?"

"There is a bedroom attached to the apartment," said Lawrence. "Go in there, all of you, and remain till I call you. You can leave the door ajar, as you will probably be curious to hear what goes on between us."

"Capital! Couldn't be better!"

Ferguson, followed by the two boys, entered the smaller room, and waited impatiently for the entrance of Palmer.

A knock was heard.

"Come in!" Lawrence called out lazily.

The door opened, and F. Grant Palmer entered, carrying in his hand a valise which seemed to be a fac-simile of the one lying on the sofa. Palmer's quick eye caught sight of it as he entered the room.

"Pardon me for my intrusion!" he said suavely, "but I believe we exchanged valises – at the Clifton – this morning."