Франклин Диксон - The Tower Treasure

on the inside of the tips. At last he shook his head.

“A smooth job,” he observed. “The thief must have worn gloves. All the fingerprints in the room, Mr. Applegate, seem to be yours.”

“No use looking for fingerprints or any other evidence!” Mr. Applegate barked impatiently. “It was Robinson, I tell you.”

“Perhaps it would be a good idea for me to ask him a few questions,” Mr. Hardy advised.

Mr. Applegate rang for one of the servants and instructed him to tell the caretaker to come to the library at once. Mr. Hardy glanced at the boys and suggested they wait in the hallway.

“It might prove less embarrassing to Mr. Robinson that way,” he said in a low voice.

Frank and Joe readily withdrew. In the hall they met Mr. Robinson and his son Perry. The man was calm, but pale, and at the doorway he patted Slim on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Everything will be all right.” With that he entered the library.

Slim turned to his two friends. “It’s got to be!” he cried out. “My dad is innocent!”

FRANK and Joe were determined to help their chum prove his father’s innocence. They shared his conviction that Mr. Robinson was not guilty.

“Of course he’s innocent,” Frank agreed. “He’ll be able to clear himself all right, Slim.”

“But things look pretty black right now,” the boy said. He was white-faced and shaken. “Unless Mr. Hardy can catch the real thief, I’m afraid Dad will be blamed for the robbery.”

“Everybody knows your father is honest,” said Joe consolingly. “He has been a faithful employee -even Mr. Applegate will have to admit that.”

“Which won’t help him much if he can’t clear himself of the charge. And Dad admits that he did know the combination of the safe, although of course he’d never use it.”

“He knew it?” repeated Joe, surprised.

“Dad learned the combination accidentally. It was so simple one couldn’t forget it. This was how it happened. One day when he was cleaning the library fireplace, he found a piece of paper with numbers on it. He studied them and decided they were the safe combination. Dad laid the paper on the desk. The window was open and he figured the breeze must have blown the paper to the floor.”

“Does Mr. Applegate know that?”

“Not yet. But Dad is going to tell him now. He realizes it will look bad for him, but he’s going to give Mr. Applegate the truth.”

From the library came the hum of voices. The harsh tones of Hurd Applegate occasionally rose above the murmur of conversation and finally the boys heard Mr. Robinson’s voice rise sharply.

“I didn’t do it! I tell you I didn’t take that money!”

“Then where did you get the nine hundred you paid on that note?” demanded Mr. Applegate.

Silence.

“Where did you get it?”

“I’m not at liberty to tell you or anyone else.”

“Why not?”

“I got the money honestly-that’s all I can say about it.”

“Oh, ho!” exclaimed Mr. Applegate. “You got the money honestly, yet you can’t tell me where it came from! A pretty story! If you got the money honestly you shouldn’t be ashamed to tell where it came from.”

“I’m not ashamed. I can only say again, I’m not at liberty to talk about it.”

“Mighty funny thing that you should get nine hundred dollars so quickly. You were pretty hard up last week, weren’t you? Had to ask for an advance on your month’s wages.”

“That is true.”

“And then the day of this robbery you suddenly have nine hundred dollars that you can’t explain.”

Mr. Hardy’s calm voice broke in. “Of course I don’t like to pry into your private affairs, Mr. Robinson,” he said, “but it would be best if you would dear up this matter of the money.”

“I know it looks bad,” replied the caretaker doggedly. “But I’ve made a promise I can’t break.”

“And you admit being familiar with the combination of the safe, too!” broke in Mr. Applegate. “I didn’t know that before. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t consider it important.”

“And yet you come and tell me now!”

“I have nothing to conceal. If I had taken the securities and jewels I wouldn’t be telling you that I knew the combination.”

“Yes,” agreed Mr. Hardy, “that’s a point in your favor, Mr. Robinson.”

“Is it?” asked Mr. Applegate. “Robinson’s just clever enough to think up a trick like that. He’d figure that by appearing to be honest, I’d believe he is honest and couldn’t have committed this robbery. Very clever. But not clever enough. There’s plenty of evidence right this minute to convict him, and I’m not going to delay any further.”

In a moment Mr. Applegate’s voice continued, “Police station? Hello . . . Police station? . . . This is Applegate speaking-Applegate-Hurd Applegate. . . . Well, we’ve found our man in that robbery. . . . Yes, Robinson. . . . You thought so, eh?-So did I, but I wasn’t sure. . . . He has practically convicted himself by his own story. . . . Yes, I want him arrested. . . . You’ll be up right away? . . . Fine. . . . Good-by.”

“You’re not going to have me arrested, Mr. Applegate?” the caretaker cried out in alarm.

“Why not? You’re the thief!”

“It might have been better to wait a while,” Mr. Hardy interposed. “At least until there was more evidence.”

“What more evidence do we want, Mr. Hardy,” the owner of Tower Mansion sneered. “If Robinson wants to return the jewels and securities I’ll have the charge withdrawn-but that’s all.”

“I can’t return them! I didn’t take them!” Mr. Robinson defended himself.

“You’ll have plenty of time to think,” Mr. Applegate declared. “You’ll be in the penitentiary a long time-a long time.”

In the hallway the boys listened in growing excitement and dismay. The case had taken an abrupt and tragic turn. Slim looked as though he might collapse under the strain.

“My dad’s innocent,” the boy muttered over and over again, clenching his fists. “I know he is. They can’t arrest him. He never stole anything in his life!”

Frank patted his friend on the shoulder. “Brace up, pal,” he advised. “It looks discouraging just now, but I’m sure your father will be able to clear himself.”

“I- I’ll have to tell Mother,” stammered Slim. “This will break her heart. And my sisters-“

Frank and Joe followed the boy down the hallway and along a corridor that led to the east wing of the mansion. There, in a neat but sparsely furnished apartment, they found Mrs. Robinson, a gentle, kind-faced woman, who was lame. She was seated in a chair by the window, anxiously waiting. Her two daughters, Paula and Tessie, twelve-year-old twins, were at her side, and all looked up in expectation as the boys came in.

“What news, son?” Mrs. Robinson asked bravely, after she had greeted the Hardys.

“Bad, Mother.”

“They’re not-they’re not-arresting him?” cried Paula, springing forward.

Perry nodded wordlessly.

“But they can’t!” Tessie protested. “Dad couldn’t do anything like that! It’s wrong-“

Frank, looking at Mrs. Robinson, saw her suddenly slump over in a faint. He sprang forward and caught the woman in his arms as she was about to fall to the floor.

“Mother!” cried Slim in terror, as Frank laid Mrs. Robinson on a couch, then he said quickly to his sister, “Paula, bring the smelling salts and her special medicine.”

Perry explained that at times undue excitement caused an “attack.” “I shouldn’t have told her about Dad,” the boy chided himself.

“She’d have to know it sooner or later,” Joe said kindly.