Edward Stratemeyer - Dave Porter and His Double - or, The Disapperarance of the Basswood Fortune

“I am thankful to say he is no relative of mine. He is a swindler, and that is why I would like to catch him. He has been getting goods in my name. If he went past here perhaps you can tell me where he has gone?”

“He walked past here less than fifteen minutes ago. He went down that lane, which is a short cut to the road to Barnett.”

“Barnett!” cried our hero. “That’s the railroad station up this way, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Then he must be heading for a railroad train!” exclaimed Dave, quickly. “How far is it from here?”

“Barnett is three miles by the road, but it’s less than a mile and a quarter by that short cut through Gerry’s Woods.”

“Then I’ll go after him by that short cut,” answered Dave. He thought for a moment. To hunt up Roger and get him to go along might take too long. He looked at the farmer. “Would you like to go with me? I’ll make it worth your while,” he continued.

“Sorry, but I can’t do it,” was the reply. “I’ve got to meet the man who buys my milk down town in about fifteen minutes. He’s a very particular customer, and if I should fail him he might get mad. So I can’t go.”

“All right, I’ll go after him alone,” answered our hero; and then continued: “If you are going down town, and you chance to see a friend of mine with my black horse and cutter, will you kindly tell him where I have gone?”

“Sure, I will;” and with this promise from the farmer Dave started on a swift walk along the short cut to Barnett which the other had pointed out.

Fortunately for the youth, to keep his feet warm while riding he had donned a heavy pair of rubbers, so that walking through the rather deep snow of the path leading through the back farms and through Gerry’s Woods was not as uncomfortable as it might otherwise have been. To be sure, he occasionally found himself floundering in snow that was over his shoetops, but when this happened he simply smiled grimly and made the best of it. When at Oak Hall he had often taken part in track athletics, cross-country running, and occasionally in a game of hare and hounds, and consequently his wind was good and he made rapid progress without becoming too much exhausted.

He was in the depth of the woods when, at a turn in the path, he saw a figure ahead of him. The individual wore a heavy overcoat and had a cap pulled well down over his ears and the back of his head.

“I may be mistaken, but that looks as if it might be Porton,” said Dave to himself. “However, I’ll soon know;” and he increased his speed so that he might catch up to the other walker.

As the ground was covered with snow our hero made but slight noise while he advanced, and as a consequence he drew quite close to the other individual before the latter was aware of his presence.

“Hi there!” called out Dave, when he was but a few feet behind. The fellow had stopped and turned around, and a single glance showed our hero that it was the youth he was seeking.

“Dave Porter!” muttered Ward Porton, as he recognized our hero. His manner showed that he was much astonished, as well as chagrined, at this unexpected meeting.

“You didn’t expect to meet me out here, did you?” remarked Dave, sharply, as he came up alongside the former moving-picture actor.

“Why–I–er–I–can’t–can’t say that I did,” returned Porton, lamely.

“You’ve been acting in a fine way, haven’t you, Porton?” went on Dave, angrily.

“Huh! What have I done?” Porton’s gaze was shifty. He did not dare to look our hero in the eyes.

“You know well enough what you’ve done, Porton–buying a whole lot of goods in my name.”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t do any such thing!” was the blustering reply. The former moving-picture actor was recovering from his surprise.

“I can prove that you did; and I’m going to hold you responsible for it,” answered Dave, calmly.

“Look here, Porter, I don’t want any such talk from you!” and now Ward Porton doubled up his fists and stuck out his chin. “I’ve stood all I am going to stand from you. I want you to leave me alone.”

“Porton, you can bluster all you please, but it won’t do you any good,” answered Dave, and his voice had a more positive ring to it than before. “You thought you could play this trick on me and get away with it, but I am going to show you it can’t be done. I am going to hand you over to the authorities and see that you go to jail.”

“If you think you can do that, Porter, you’ve got another guess coming. You clear out and let me alone or I’ll make it hot for you;” and Ward Porton shook his fist in Dave’s face.

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