<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></SPAN>CHAPTER XXV</h2>
<h3>JOE FOILS THE PLOTTERS</h3>
<p>There was a carriage waiting just outside the
ball grounds, a carriage drawn by one horse. A
man whom Joe had never seen before, so far as he
knew, held the reins.</p>
<p>“There’s the man who wants you,” explained
the lad who had acted as messenger.</p>
<p>“Who is he?” asked the young pitcher quickly.
“I don’t know him. Where did he come from?
Where did you meet him?”</p>
<p>“I guess he’ll tell you all you want to know,”
said the lad. “All I know is that I was standing
outside the ball grounds after the game, and he
give me that note to bring in to you. I didn’t come
with him.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I see,” replied Joe, but he was wondering
who the man was, and how the fellow came to
know that he was in Fayetteville.</p>
<p>“Hope I didn’t take you away from the game,”
began the man with what he evidently meant for
a pleasant smile. Yet, somehow Joe did not like<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</SPAN></span>
that smile. The man seemed to have a shifty
glance and Joe mistrusted him.</p>
<p>“Oh, the game is over,” answered the young
pitcher. “I didn’t play in the last part. But
what is the matter? Is my mother or father ill?”</p>
<p>“It’s nothing serious,” spoke the man. “No
one is ill. I came to get you about your father’s
patents.”</p>
<p>“Oh!” exclaimed Joe. He felt a sensation of
relief until he realized the danger that threatened
his father’s inventions. Then he asked: “What’s
wrong? Is Mr.——” Then he stopped for he
did not know whether or not to mention names to
this stranger.</p>
<p>“I can’t give you any particulars,” said the man
with another smile. “All I can say is that they
engaged me to come and get you to save time.”</p>
<p>“Who engaged you?” asked Joe.</p>
<p>“Your father,” replied the man. “He sent me
off in a hurry and said I’d find you at this game.
I sent you in the note by the lad. Your father
had no time to write one, but you are to go to him
at once. He wants you to help him about the
patent models I think. We’d better hurry.”</p>
<p>Joe’s suspicions vanished at once. He knew his
father was preparing to send on some models to
Washington and now probably some need of haste<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</SPAN></span>
had arisen necessitating his aid. He climbed up
into the carriage, and though he noted at the time
that the rig did not seem to be from the local livery
stable, which had only a few, he thought nothing
of it then.</p>
<p>The man flicked the horse with the whip and the
animal started off on the jump. Just outside the
ball grounds there was a private road leading into
the main one. On reaching the chief thoroughfare
the man turned north whereas, to reach
Riverside, he should have gone south.</p>
<p>“Hold on!” cried Joe, “you’re going the
wrong way.”</p>
<p>“Be easy. It’s all right,” answered the man
with a smile. “Your father has taken all his
things to a little shop in Denville. He had to have
some changes made in the models I believe, and he
wanted to be in a machine shop where he could
work quietly. He told me to bring you there.”</p>
<p>Joe remembered that on one or two occasions
Mr. Matson had had some work done in Denville,
and once more the suspicions that had arisen were
lulled. Joe sank back on the cushions and began
thinking of the game just played. His arm was
getting quite stiff.</p>
<p>“I’ll have to attend to it as soon as I get
home,” he mused. “It won’t do to have it go<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</SPAN></span>
back on me just when things are in such good
shape. If they keep on I may become the regular
pitcher. Sam certainly did poorly in his part of
the game, and I’m not getting a swelled head,
either, when I say that.” Joe knew he had done
good work, considering his sore arm, and he made
up his mind to do still better.</p>
<p>The man drove along rapidly, and in about an
hour had reached the outskirts of Denville. He
turned down a road that was evidently little used,
to judge by the grass growing in it, and halted the
horse in front of a small building. It did not look
like a place where inventors’ models would be
made. In fact the shack had a forlorn and forsaken
air about it, and Joe looked curiously at it.
His suspicions were coming back.</p>
<p>“Where is my father?” he demanded. “I
don’t see him.”</p>
<p>“It’s all right now—it’s all right,” said the
man quickly. “Hello in there!” he called.</p>
<p>The next instant Joe saw a face at the window.
Then it disappeared, but that momentary glance
had showed him it was the face of Mr. Isaac Benjamin.
In a second it was all clear to him. He
had been trapped. He attempted to spring from
the carriage seat.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>“I’m on to your game!” he exclaimed to the
man.</p>
<p>“Oh, are you? Well, you’re not going to get
away!” and with that the man grabbed Joe
around the waist, pinning his arms to his sides.
Then from the little building came running Mr.
Benjamin and Mr. Holdney.</p>
<p>“Did you get him all right?” asked the manager
of the harvester works eagerly.</p>
<p>“I certainly did,” panted the other man, for
Joe was struggling to get loose. “Didn’t give me
any trouble either, until just now.”</p>
<p>“Well, I’ll make lots of trouble for you, if
you don’t let me go!” cried Joe.</p>
<p>“Now, young man, take it easy,” advised Mr.
Benjamin. “We don’t intend to do you a bit of
harm, and we only brought you to this place to
have a quiet talk with you. It’s in your father’s
interest and I hope you’ll overlook the unconventional
way we took to get you here. Bring him
in,” he added to the man in the carriage and,
despite Joe’s struggles he was lifted out and carried
into the little building. The door was shut
and locked, and he was alone with his three captors.</p>
<p>“What do you want of me?” hotly demanded
the lad.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>“Now don’t get excited and we’ll tell you,”
said Mr. Benjamin. “It’s about your father’s
patents.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” broke in Mr. Holdney, “we want to
know where they are. He had no right to take the
papers and models away from the harvester
works. Those inventions are the property of the
company and aren’t your father’s at all. We
want——”</p>
<p>“Better let me talk to him,” advised Mr. Benjamin.
“Now Joe, you can’t understand all the
ins and outs of this business, for it’s very complicated.
You know that your father is working
on certain patents about a corn reaper and binder;
don’t you?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” admitted Joe cautiously, “but I’m not
going to tell you anything about it.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps you will after you hear all I have to
say,” went on Mr. Benjamin. “Now, it’s like
this: Your father is unduly alarmed about the
safety of his rights in the patents, and I will admit
that he has some rights. For some reason he saw
fit to take his models and papers away from the
shop at the harvester works where he was engaged
on them.”</p>
<p>Joe smiled—well he knew why his father had
removed the valuable models and papers.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>“What we want,” said Mr. Benjamin, “is to
get access to those models. We want to see them
for a short time, and also look over the papers.
Now you can fix that for us if you will.”</p>
<p>“Why don’t <i>you</i> ask my father?” inquired Joe.</p>
<p>“We have, but——” began Mr. Holdney.</p>
<p>“He won’t listen to reason,” put in Mr. Benjamin.
“He thinks we would deprive him of his
rights.” Joe thought so too, but he said nothing.
“Now if you can quietly get those models and
papers and let us have a look at them they will
be returned to you without fail,” said the manager.
“Your father’s rights will be fully protected. It
may seem strange to you for us to make this
proposition in this way, and bring you here as we
have done, but it was necessary.”</p>
<p>“Suppose I refuse?” asked Joe.</p>
<p>“Then we’ll——” began Mr. Holdney, in blustering
tones.</p>
<p>“Now, now, easy,” cautioned Mr. Benjamin.
“The consequences may be disastrous for your
father,” he said quietly. “I am doing this for his
own good. He will not hear of showing the
models, but if you can get them for us it will save
much trouble and annoyance for—well, for all of
us. If you don’t, your father may lose all he possesses
and be without a position. I know what inventors<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</SPAN></span>
are. They can only see one thing at a
time. It is a simple thing that we ask of you.
Will you do it? Now, you needn’t answer at once.
Take a little time to think it over. Go in that
room there and wait. We’ll give you half an
hour. If by that time you don’t decide to help us
we’ll——”</p>
<p>“We’ll <i>make</i> you!” exclaimed Mr. Holdney.
“I’ve got too much money tied up in this to see it
lost by the obstinacy of a boy.”</p>
<p>“Well, if you refuse, we will have to take other
measures,” said Mr. Benjamin, with a shrug of
his shoulders.</p>
<p>Joe’s heart was beating fast. He did not
know what to do. Being practically kidnapped
after he had worked so hard in the game, his fears
for his father aroused, it is no wonder that he
could not think clearly. He welcomed the chance
to go off quietly by himself, but never for a moment
did he think of betraying his father. Only
for an instant did he place any confidence in what
the wily manager had said. Then he knew there
must be a trick in it all.</p>
<p>“But if I let them trap me it’s my own fault,”
thought Joe. “I’ve got to think up some way of
escape.”</p>
<p>“Well?” asked the manager as Joe hesitated.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>“I—I’ll think it over,” answered the young
pitcher.</p>
<p>“All right. You can go in that room,” and Mr.
Benjamin opened the door of an apartment leading
out of the main one.</p>
<p>Joe cast a quick glance about it as the door
closed behind him. He noted that it was not
locked, but that with three men in the outer room
the boy knew he could not escape that way.</p>
<p>“And I’m going to escape if I can,” he told himself.
“I don’t need any more time to think over
what I’m going to do. They shan’t have a glance
at dad’s models and papers.”</p>
<p>A rapid survey of the room showed him that it
had but one window and that was heavily barred.
He raised the sash softly and tried the bars. They
were rusty but held firmly in the wood.</p>
<p>“No use trying that way,” murmured Joe. He
heard the hum of voices in the outer room and
listened at the keyhole.</p>
<p>“Don’t you think he can get away?” he heard
the man who had brought him to the place ask
the others.</p>
<p>“I don’t believe he’ll try,” was the answer from
Mr. Benjamin. “After all, we couldn’t hope to
keep him a prisoner long. There would be too
much hue and cry over it. All I expect is that<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</SPAN></span>
he’ll be so worried and frightened that he’ll tell
us what we want to know.”</p>
<p>“Oh, you’ve got another think coming,” whispered
Joe.</p>
<p>He walked back to the window once more and,
as he crossed the room he saw what looked like a
trap door in the floor. Kneeling down he applied
his nose to the crack. There came up the
damp, musty smell of a cellar.</p>
<p>“That’s it!” cried Joe. “If I can get that
door up I can drop into the cellar even if there
aren’t any stairs, and I guess I can get out of the
cellar. But can I get that door up?”</p>
<p>There was no ring to lift it by, and no handle,
but Joe was a resourceful lad and in an instant his
knife was out. With the big blade inserted in the
crack he managed to raised the door a trifle. He
endeavored to hold the advantage he had gained
until he could take out the knife blade and insert
it again farther down, but the door slipped
through his fingers.</p>
<p>“I’ve got to get some way of holding it up
after each time I pry,” he thought. A hurried
search through his pockets brought to light part
of a broken toe plate. He had had a new one
put on for the Academy game, and had thrust the
broken piece in the pocket of his trousers.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>“This ought to do it,” he reasoned, and it did,
for with the aid of that Joe was able to hold up
and raise the trap door. The damp, musty smell
was stronger now, and Joe was glad to see, in the
dim darkness of the cellar, a flight of steps.
“They’re pretty rotten, but I guess they’ll hold
me,” he murmured.</p>
<p>The next instant he was going down them, and
he let the trap door fall softly into place over his
head. It was so dark in the cellar now that he
could see nothing, but when his eyes became accustomed
to the blackness he saw the dim light of
an outer window.</p>
<p>It was the work of but a moment to scramble
through it, and a few seconds later Joe was running
away from the place of his brief captivity.</p>
<p>“I guess I won’t give you an answer to-day,”
he murmured as he looked back.</p>
<p>He heard a shout and saw Mr. Benjamin rush
out. Then our hero caught sight of the horse and
carriage and like a flash he made for it. Jumping
in he called to the animal and was soon galloping
down the road while the shouts behind him became
fainter and fainter.</p>
<p>“This is the time I fooled you!” cried Joe exultantly,
as he urged on the horse.</p>
<hr class="cb" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</SPAN></span></p>
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