“I guess so,” said Dick. “Are you a-goin’ in for some?”
“Wal, yes. I’ve got an order here for sixty dollars—made a kind of speculation this morning.”
“How was it?” asked Frank.
“Wal, you see I brought down some money to put in the bank, fifty dollars it was, and I hadn’t justly made up my mind what bank to put it into, when a chap came up in a terrible hurry, and said it was very unfortunate, but the bank wasn’t open, and he must have some money right off. He was obliged to go out of the city by the next train. I asked him how much he wanted. He said fifty dollars. I told him I’d got that, and he offered me a check on the bank for sixty, and I let him have it. I thought that was a pretty easy way to earn ten dollars, so I counted out the money and he went off. He told me I’d hear a bell ring when they began to pay out money. But I’ve waited most two hours, and I hain’t heard it yet. I’d ought to be goin’, for I told dad I’d be home tonight. Do you think I can get the money now?”
“Will you show me the check?” asked Frank, who had listened attentively to the countryman’s story, and suspected that he had been made the victim of a swindler. It was made out upon the “Washington Bank,” in the sum of sixty dollars, and was signed “Ephraim Smith.”
“Washington Bank!” repeated Frank. “Dick, is there such a bank in the city?”
“Not as I knows on,” said Dick. “Leastways I don’t own any shares in it.”
“Ain’t this the Washington Bank?” asked the countryman, pointing to the building on the steps of which the three were now standing.
“No, it’s the Custom House.”
“And won’t they give me any money for this?” asked the young man, the perspiration standing on his brow.
“I am afraid the man who gave it to you was a swindler,” said Frank, gently.
“And won’t I ever see my fifty dollars again?” asked the youth in agony.
“I am afraid not.”
“What’ll dad say?” ejaculated the miserable youth. “It makes me feel sick to think of it. I wish I had the feller here. I’d shake him out of his boots.”
“What did he look like? I’ll call a policeman and you shall describe him. Perhaps in that way you can get track of your money.”
Dick called a policeman, who listened to the description, and recognized the operator as an experienced swindler. He assured the countryman that there was very little chance of his ever seeing his money again. The boys left the miserable youth loudly bewailing his bad luck, and proceeded on their way down the street.
“He’s a baby,” said Dick, contemptuously. “He’d ought to know how to take care of himself and his money. A feller has to look sharp in this city, or he’ll lose his eyeteeth before he knows it.”
“I suppose you never got swindled out of fifty dollars, Dick?”
“No, I don’t carry no such small bills. I wish I did,” he added.
“So do I, Dick. What’s that building there at the end of the street?”
“That’s the Wall-Street Ferry to Brooklyn.”
“How long does it take to go across?”
“Not more’n five minutes.”
“Suppose we just ride over and back.”
“All right!” said Dick. “It’s rather expensive; but if you don’t mind, I don’t.”
“Why, how much does it cost?”
“Two cents apiece.”
“I guess I can stand that. Let us go.”
They passed the gate, paying the fare to a man who stood at the entrance, and were soon on the ferryboat, bound for Brooklyn.
They had scarcely entered the boat, when Dick, grasping Frank by the arm, pointed to a man just outside of the gentlemen’s cabin.
“Do you see that man, Frank?” he inquired.
“Yes, what of him?”
“He’s the man that cheated the country chap out of his fifty dollars.”
XI
Dick as a Detective
Dick’s ready identification of the rogue who had cheated the countryman, surprised Frank.
“What makes you think it is he?” he asked.
“Because I’ve seen him before, and I know he’s up to them kind of tricks. When I heard how he looked, I was sure I knowed him.”
“Our recognizing him won’t be of much use,” said Frank. “It won’t give back the countryman his money.”
“I don’t know,” said Dick, thoughtfully. “May be I can get it.”
“How?” asked Frank, incredulously.
“Wait a minute, and you’ll see.”
Dick left his companion, and went up to the man whom he suspected.
“Ephraim Smith,” said Dick, in a low voice.
The man turned suddenly, and looked at Dick uneasily.
“What did you say?” he asked.
“I believe your name is Ephraim Smith,” continued Dick.
“You’re mistaken,” said the man, and was about to move off.
“Stop a minute,” said Dick. “Don’t you keep your money in the Washington Bank?”
“I don’t know any such bank. I’m in a hurry, young man, and I can’t stop to answer any foolish questions.”
The boat had by this time reached the Brooklyn pier, and Mr. Ephraim Smith seemed in a hurry to land.
“Look here,” said Dick, significantly; “you’d better not go on shore unless you want to jump into the arms of a policeman.”
“What do you mean?” asked the man, startled.
“That little affair of yours is known to the police,” said Dick; “about how you got fifty dollars out of a greenhorn on a false check, and it mayn’t be safe for you to go ashore.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said the swindler with affected boldness, though Dick could see that he was ill at ease.
“Yes you do,” said Dick. “There isn’t but one thing to do. Just give me back that money, and I’ll see that you’re not touched. If you don’t, I’ll give you up to the first p’liceman we meet.”
Dick looked so determined, and spoke so confidently, that the other, overcome by his fears, no longer hesitated, but passed a roll of bills to Dick and hastily left the boat.
All this
