Bernard Brooks' Adventures: The Experience of a Plucky Boy

CHAPTER XVIII. THE EVENTS OF A NIGHT

The chamber at the Albion Hotel occupied by Bernard was a small one, connecting by a side door with the larger one which had been taken by Professor Puffer. Bernard was not ordinarily suspicious, but his distrust of his traveling companion led him to examine carefully the door leading into the larger room. It seemed to be locked, but the key was probably in the other room, at the disposal of its occupant.

This did not suit Bernard’s views, and he, with some difficulty, pushed up the bureau so that it would bar the entrance even if the door were opened. This Professor Puffer didn’t know.

Both retired at a comparatively early hour. It was quite dark, when Bernard, rousing from a light slumber, thought he heard a noise near the door. He was instantly wide awake.

Presently he heard a key grating in the lock, and then he saw the door behind the bureau open. There was a light in the adjoining room. By the help of this Bernard saw the figure and face of the professor as he peered into the room.

Evidently he was surprised and disconcerted at the sight of the bureau. He looked over towards the bed, but this was in shadow, and he could not see Bernard gazing at him. He made an attempt to move the bureau, but it was heavy, and it could not be done without making a noise likely to wake a sleeper.

“Confound it!” Bernard heard the professor mutter, and then, after a pause, he closed the door and locked it.

“What was he going to do?” Bernard asked himself, not without alarm. “Did he wish to do me any harm?”

This question was readily asked, but not so easily answered. Bernard remained awake for some time, being almost afraid to go to sleep. After a while, however, he reflected that Professor Puffer would not dare to make a second attempt.

Besides, he was a light sleeper, and the noise which Puffer must unavoidably make would be sure to waken him. So after a while he fell asleep, and did not wake up till seven o’clock. His first step was to remove the bureau to its former place. Then he began to dress.

He had nearly finished the process when a knock was heard at the door leading into the hall.

Bernard opened it, and his glance rested on Professor Puffer.

“Are you nearly ready to go down to breakfast?” asked the professor.

“Yes, sir.”

Unbidden Puffer entered the room and looked quickly towards the connecting door. He observed that the bureau had been removed. He frowned slightly, but did not refer to the matter.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” answered Bernard.

“So did I. I was conscious of nothing until I woke up this morning.”

He glanced at Bernard, to see whether this statement made any impression upon him. He wished to ascertain whether Bernard had been aware of his attempted entrance during the night.

Bernard made no comment.

“Liverpool seems to be a good place to sleep,” he went on. “It seems good to step on shore after so long a time on shipboard.”

“You are right.”

“Are you ready to go down to breakfast?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Come down then. I feel hungry.”

They went into the coffee room, and were soon served with mutton chops, beautiful, flaky potatoes, coffee, and bread and butter. The chops were good, and the coffee as good as the average British article of that name.

In spite of the disturbance of the night before, Bernard enjoyed his breakfast. So, apparently, did the professor, but he did not say much. He appeared busy thinking.

Presently a cheery voice was heard from the next table: “How are you, professor? Good morning, Bernard!”

Looking up, Bernard saw that the speaker was Nelson Sturgis, the Boston buyer.

“Good morning!” said Bernard, with real pleasure, for Mr. Sturgis had a pleasant manner, and he was glad to meet him.

“Morning!” muttered Professor Puffer coldly.

“Well, how do you like Liverpool?”

“I don’t know. Have not had an opportunity to go about yet.”

“Nor I. Come around with me, if you have nothing better to do.”

“I don’t know whether Professor Puffer will require my company or not,” said Bernard, in a tone of hesitation.

“No,” answered Professor Puffer. “If you wish to take a walk with Mr. Sturgis, I have no objection.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You can report at half-past twelve or one, and we will dine then.”

“All right, sir.”

“How long do you remain in Liverpool, professor?” asked Nelson Sturgis.

“I am not quite sure.”

“You will be here to-night?”

“Yes, sir; I shall be here to-night.”

“So shall I. I expect to go to London to-morrow.” After breakfast Bernard put on his hat, and started out with his new friend.

“Now, my boy, I am going to show you the town,” said Mr. Sturgis.

“I shall be very much obliged to you, sir.”

First they visited the docks, which are considered the most noteworthy feature of Liverpool. They extend for five miles along the margin of the river, and are built in the most solid and enduring manner.

“I am a patriotic American,” observed Mr. Sturgis, “but I am obliged to confess that no American city can boast of docks that are equal to these.”

“How many are there?” asked Bernard.

“Over fifty, I believe. They have been built at immense expense. I hope to see the time when New York will have docks like them.”

They visited some of the large squares, walked past St. George’s hall, the custom house, the free library and museum, and all these interested Bernard.

“We can’t see everything,” said Mr. Sturgis, “but you now have some idea of Liverpool. Do you know how long we have been walking about?”

“No, sir.”

“Three hours. I begin to feel tired. Suppose we go back to the hotel.”

“All right, sir. I am very much obliged to you, Mr. Sturgis, for showing me so much.”

“I have enjoyed the walk myself. By the way, Bernard, at the risk of hurting your feelings, I will venture to say that I don’t much admire your traveling companion.”

“Nor I, sir.”

“I have wondered more than once what brought you together.”

“My guardian. I never saw Professor Puffer till we went on board the Vesta.”

“Do you expect to make a long tour with him?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Hasn’t he disclosed his plans to you?”

“No, sir. I believe he is engaged on some literary work, and I am engaged to help him.”

“Then, I suppose, you will settle down somewhere?”

“I suppose so.”

“Mr. Sturgis,” said Bernard, after a short pause, “I find myself in a difficult, not to say dangerous, position, and I would like to ask your advice.”

Nelson Sturgis looked a little surprised, but he answered cordially: “Speak freely, Bernard. I will give you the best advice I can.”

“First, I must tell you how I am situated.”

Then Bernard gave an account of Professor Puffer’s attempt to throw him over the rail during the voyage.

Mr. Sturgis listened in amazement.

“I can hardly believe this,” he said. “Do you think the professor knew what he was talking about?”

“Yes, sir, I fully believe it.”

“What excuse did he make?”

“He said that he was walking in his sleep.”

“But what motive could he possibly have? It looks unaccountable.”

“I can’t understand it myself, but I think he was acting under instructions from my guardian.”

“What reason have you for thinking so?”

In reply Bernard produced the fragment of a letter which he had picked up in the stateroom.

“This certainly does look suspicious. Have you any idea why it is that your guardian wishes to get rid of you?”

“Yes, sir. I met a gentleman before I left New York who knew my father. He tells me that he is certain that my father left property, and he thinks that Mr. McCracken has it in his possession, and is resolved to keep it.”

“It is not unlikely. Does your guardian know that you have any suspicion of this?”

“He knows that I met an old friend of my father’s, and he may suspect that Mr. Franklin has told me this.”

“You certainly are in a difficult position,” said Nelson Sturgis thoughtfully. “Has anything happened since you arrived in Liverpool?”

In reply Bernard told the incident of the night before.

“I can’t understand why he wished to enter my room,” he concluded. “He would not dare attempt my life. Do you think so?”

“It is hard to tell what to think. If you have any fear as to sleeping in your own room to-night, you will be welcome to share mine. I occupy No. 15.”

“I will remember it, sir.”

When, at ten o’clock Bernard went up to bed, he was struck as he entered the chamber by one significant circumstance. The bureau had disappeared!

CHAPTER XIX. PROFESSOR PUFFERS DISCOMFITURE

When Bernard noticed the disappearance of the bureau he understood at once the alarming significance of the step which Professor Puffer had taken, for he felt sure that it was at his instigation that this article of furniture had been removed. It might have been carried into the professor’s own chamber through the connecting door, but this was of minor importance. Enough that he, Bernard, no longer had anything to serve as a barrier and prevent the unauthorized intrusion of his traveling companion into his room.

Bernard sat down on the bed and began to consider thoughtfully what he should do. Did the professor mean to do him harm? This was what he asked himself. Evidently he intended to come into the room. Bernard did not care to run the risk of his presence. He decided to sleep elsewhere.

He opened the door into the hall noiselessly, and proceeding to the room of the Boston drummer, he knocked.

The door was opened by Mr. Sturgis in person.

“Well?” he said inquiringly.

Bernard told him of the discovery he had made.

“I don’t dare to sleep in the room to-night,” he concluded, “for I am sure the professor would make me a visit.”

“You are no doubt right. The case seems very mysterious. I don’t see on what pretext he could have induced the landlord to remove the bureau. English people (and landlords are no exception) are very averse to changes, even of trifling character.”

“At any rate the change has been made,” said Bernard. “Perhaps he has not consulted the landlord at all, but simply removed the bureau into his own chamber.”

“Perhaps so, but we must take things as they are. It is clear that it won’t do to sleep in the room. I am glad to be able to offer you a bed. There are two in this room, as you see.”.

“Thank you, Mr. Sturgis. I will accept your kind offer.”

“Then, as it is late, we had better go to bed at once, so as to get a good night’s rest. I should like to see the face of the professor when he opens the door and finds that the bird has flown.”

Bernard laughed.

“I should like to see it myself,” he said.

We will now go back to Mr. Puffer.

He retired rather earlier than Bernard, and as he lay down he said to himself, with a peculiar smile, “The boy won’t be able to keep me out to-night He may think himself smart, but he is not smart enough to baffle the plans of Ezra Puffer.”

Professor Puffer had the faculty of sleeping for as short or long a time as he chose. He set himself for a two hours’ nap, and in five minutes he was sound asleep.

About twelve o’clock he awoke.

He was at first bewildered, but quickly recalled to mind what he had arranged to do.

He rose and lit the candle which stood upon a. small table in the center of the room. Then, in his stocking feet, he noiselessly approached the door.

He turned the key in the lock and opened the door leading into Bernard’s room raising the candle he drew near the bed and looked to see the recumbent figure of his young traveling companion. To his intense surprise the bed was unoccupied.

“What does it mean?” he asked himself in bewilderment. “Where can be the boy be?”

His expression of perplexity was fast succeeded by one of rage as he came to the conclusion that Bernard, on discovering the absence of the bureau, had deliberately resolved to abandon the room.

“He is the most impudent and audacious boy I ever met,” reflected the professor. “I don’t wonder Mr. McCracken calls him ‘a bad lot.’”

Of course there was nothing to do but return to his own chamber. But his exit was not to be a peaceful one. He had scarcely started for the door when there was a rushing sound, and a huge dog sprang forward and fastened his teeth in the professor’s leg. Such an attack under the circumstances would have startled even a brave man, and Professor Puffer was not a brave man.

In the indistinct light he could not at once distinguish the figure of his assailant and what it was that had attacked him. He had a suspicion that it was some contrivance of Bernard.

“Let go, or I will kill you!” he yelled.

But his threat produced no effect upon the huge, shaggy dog who had been lying under the bed, and had been aroused by the entrance of Professor Puffer, whom he evidently felt to be an unauthorized intruder and a suspicious character.

As the reader may be as much puzzled as was the professor himself, I will explain that when Bernard opened the door to leave his chamber, the dog, who had been walking through the entry, made his way into it without the notice of the boy. He had stretched himself out under the four poster, and was sleeping the sleep of a thoroughly tired dog when he was aroused by the stealthy entrance of the professor.

With a dog’s instinct he fastened his teeth in the unprotected calf of the intruder, and inflicted a wound decidedly painful.

When Professor Puffer, lowering the candle, saw his foe, he was frightened more, than ever.

“This is a trick of that rascally boy!” he concluded. “Get out, you brute!”

With this exclamation he drew his leg away from the dog’s grip, and gave him a vicious kick.

But the dog’s fighting spirit was aroused. He took a new hold, and growled in a manner that sent terror to the heart of the unhappy professor. Drops of perspiration came out upon his forehead, and his heart was sick with fear. He felt helpless in the powerful jaws of the dog.

“What shall I do? What can I do?” he moaned. “If I only had a revolver.”

The more he struggled, the more the dog felt that he had done right in attacking him.

The professor could stand it no longer. He gave utterance to a succession of piercing shrieks, which aroused the house. He did not succeed in terrifying the dog, however, who hung on with remorseless tenacity.

The cries of the professor roused the house. The guests poured out of their rooms, among them Nelson Sturgis and Bernard. Last, but not least, the stout, rubicund landlord, a typical Englishman, made his appearance.

As all were attired in their night clothes, the effect was picturesque, to say the least, “What is the matter?” asked the landlord.

“Call off the dog! Don’t you see he is tearing me to pieces?” roared Puffer.

“Bless my soul!” ejaculated the landlord, in bewilderment. “Where did he come from?”

“Take off the dog!” roared the professor again. Nelson Sturgis was the only one present who appeared to have his wits about him.

He approached, and seizing the animal by his collar, he forcibly pulled him away from his victim. The professor, whose leg had been badly torn, bent over and clasped his hands about the wounded place.

“Where did the dog come from, and how did he happen to attack you?” asked Sturgis.

“He was lying in wait here,” said the professor. “Won’t somebody kill him?”

“But how did you happen to be here?” asked Sturgis pointedly. “Is this your room?”

“No, it is the boy’s room.”

“Then how did you happen to be here?” persisted Sturgis.

“I heard a noise,” answered Puffer with some hesitation, “and thought the boy might be sick. I suppose it must have been the dog.”

Then he turned to Bernard.

“Why didn’t you sleep in the room?” he asked severely.

“Mr. Sturgis asked me to occupy his room. He has two beds.”

“Why didn’t you mention the matter to me, and ask my permission? Don’t you know that I am your guardian for the time being?”

“I had my reasons for not caring to sleep in this room,” said Bernard significantly. “Do you want to know what they are?”

“No,” answered Puffer, who feared that those reasons might compromise him. “Why did you admit the dog into the room?”

“I had no idea he was here. He must have slipped into the room when I left it.”

“That sounds very plausible,” sneered Puffer, “but I believe you called the dog into the room purposely.”

“What could have been my object in doing it?” asked Bernard quietly.

“To make an attack upon me.”

“But how could I know that you intended to enter the room?”

This was a question which Puffer found it difficult to answer.

The landlord had entered the room, and for the first time noticed the disappearance of the bureau.

“Young man, where is the bureau?” he inquired, addressing his inquiry to Bernard.

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Do you know, sir?” asked Boniface, turning to Puffer.

“I moved it into my room,” answered the professor in some confusion.

“Then, sir, you took a great liberty,” said the innkeeper in an irate tone. “It must be moved back.”

“I will attend to it to-morrow.”

The company prepared to disperse.

“Bernard,” said the professor, “I expect you to finish the night in your own room.”

“Excuse me, Professor Puffer,” replied Bernard firmly, “but I would rather not.”

Professor Puffer muttered something, but did not dare to press the demand.

And so the night wore on, and Professor Puffer was obliged to acknowledge that his cunning stratagem had failed.

CHAPTER XX. A LOST CLUE

What would you advise me to do, Mr. Sturgis?” asked Bernard as he was dressing the next morning.

“I advise you to leave Professor Puffer. He seems to be a thoroughly bad man. You will be in danger as long as you remain with him.”

“I will take your advice, though this will throw me upon my own resources. I think I can make a living in some way, though I should know better how to go about it in America.”

“How much money have you got?”

“About twenty dollars.”

“That won’t last you long. I must see what I can think of for you. First of all, you mustn’t stay in Liverpool. Professor Puffer would probably make an effort to get you into his clutches.”

“Where would you advise me to go?”

“To London. I shall leave directly after breakfast and you can go up with me.”

“I shall be glad to go with one who has been there before. But I must keep out of the way of the professor.”

“I will arrange matters for you. When you are dressed, go at once to the station of the London and Northwestern Railway. You will find a restaurant close by where you can get breakfast. Then go to the waiting room, where I will join you before the next train starts.”

Bernard followed the directions of his friend, and Mr. Sturgis went down to breakfast. Professor Puffer was already in the coffee room.

“Where is my ward?” he asked abruptly.

“I can’t tell you, sir,” returned Nelson Sturgis coolly.

“Didn’t he pass the night with you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then you should know where he is.”

“I have already told you that I don’t know.”

“Do you think he has left the hotel?”

“I think it quite probable.”

“Did he tell you where he was going?”

“No.”

“I believe you are deceiving me,” said Professor Puffer angrily.

“And I am sure that you are impertinent. I may feel inclined to pull your nose.”

Nelson Sturgis was a tall, athletic man, and Professor Puffer was persuaded that he could carry out his threat if he was so minded. Accordingly he thought it best to desist.

After breakfast Mr. Sturgis summoned a hotel attendant.

“Here is half a crown,” he said. “Go to the chamber of my young friend, Bernard Brooks, and bring his satchel to my room.”

“All right, sir.”

This was done without the observation of Puffer, or he would have prevented the removal of Bernard’s luggage.

Mr. Sturgis called a hackney coach, had his luggage put on, including Bernard’s satchel, and drove to the railway station.

“Well, Bernard, I have brought your satchel,” he said.

“Thank you, sir. I was wondering what I should do without it.”

“I had no idea of leaving it with the professor. Now I will secure tickets to London.”

“What will be the price?”

“Never mind. I will undertake to get you to London free of expense to yourself. Afterwards we will consult about your plans.”

Just as the train was starting, Professor Puffer reached the station, and from the platform espied his ward in the act of leaving him.

“Stop!” he called out, shaking his fist at the receding train.

“Good-by, Professor Puffer!” said Bernard with a smile and a wave of the hand.

Puffer in his anger, ran a few steps, talking violently.

“My ward is running away,” he said to a policeman. “Can’t you stop the train?”

“No; I can’t.”

“But I want to get him back.”

“Then you’ll have to go before a magistrate.”

“Where is that train going?”

“To London.”

“Then I’ll go, too. When is the next train?”

“At twelve o’clock, sir.”

Professor Puffer returned to the hotel at once, packed his trunk, and enrolled himself as a passenger on the noon train.

“If that fellow escapes me,” he said with an ugly look, “he’ll have to be pretty smart. I won’t have it said that a boy of his age has got the better of me.” Mr. Sturgis bought first class tickets, and Bernard found himself in a handsomely upholstered compartment only large enough to hold eight passengers.

The doors were locked after they started, which struck Bernard as peculiar.

“I like our American cars better,” he said.

“So do I, but they are not so exclusive. The English like to be exclusive.”

It was an express train, and deposited them in London in a few hours.

“Now, Bernard,” said Mr. Sturgis, “I think it will be well for us to go to different hotels. I shall go to the Charing Cross, but this is a prominent hotel, and should you go there you could easily be traced.”

“Where shall I go?”

“There is a comfortable family hotel in Arundel Street, Strand. The charges, including room and board, are only about six shillings per day, or a dollar and a half in American money. At the Charing Cross they are higher.”

“Then I will go to Arundel Street.”

“Very well. When you reach London I will see you started for your hotel.”

“Shan’t I see you again, sir?”

“Yes, I will call around in the evening. By the way, I have thought of a way to put Professor Puffer off the track.”

“How is that, sir?”

“He will very likely question some of the hackmen. I will therefore take you with me to the Charing Cross. Then we will dismiss the hackman, and you can take a cab from there to Arundel Street.” This precaution was well taken. When Professor Puffer reached London he began to interview the hackmen.

“I had two friends arrive by the nine o’clock train,” he said, “a gentleman and a boy of sixteen.” Then he described them.

“They neglected to tell me at what hotel they intended to stop. Do any of you remember seeing them?”

“Yes, sir,” replied one cabby. “I took them to the Charing Cross.”

“Thank you,” said Puffer, in a tone of satisfaction. “That is just what I wanted to find out. Here’s a shilling.”

“Thank you, sir. You are a gentleman.”

“And you may take me to the Charing Cross. I shall probably find them there.”

“I should make a good detective,” thought the professor complacently, as he rolled through the streets. “Master Bernard Brooks will find that he hasn’t made much in his attempt to outwit me. Indeed I am better off for it, as he has been obliged to pay his own fare to London.”