Bound To Succeed Part 35

"I'm going down to Hazelhurst," proceeded Stet.

Frank was surprised that Stet should mention the very place he had most in his mind.

"To Hazelhurst?" he repeated curiously.

"Yes. From something I heard Wacker say to his partner, I am pretty sure that Wacker has got Markham hidden away or a prisoner somewhere around Hazelhurst."

"Why, Stet," said Frank, "I have thought that, too. I was going there myself to-morrow, only some important business hinders me."

"Tell you what I'll do," suggested Stet; "let me see what I can find at Hazelhurst. There's going to be a big blow-up with Wacker & Co.

to-morrow. As I have sort of been in with them, maybe it would be best for me to keep out of the way so I won't get hit with any of the pieces."

"What do you mean by a blow up, Stet?" inquired Frank.

"'Splosion."

"Indeed?"

"Sure thing! Say about ten o'clock to-morrow morning you hang around Main Street Block, and see what a telegram I sent to-day is going to fetch the United States Mail Order House."

CHAPTER XXVII

THE POST-OFFICE INSPECTOR

"Now then, my friend, behave yourself."

"Haven't I paid the damages?"

"You have, but don't get into any further expensive mischief."

"H'm!" observed the victim of Dale Wacker's mail order swindle, "that's to be seen, if I ever get my hands on the real fellow who robbed me. As to you, stranger," to Frank, "just send in your bill double. Sorry I disturbed you, but we all make mistakes."

"No, Mr. Halsey," replied Frank, "I only ask you to pay the cost of that window you smashed and the door you broke."

"How much--let me settle it now," urged Halsey.

"I'll trust you," said Frank. "I will send the bill when the carpenter gets the repairs done."

The trial had come off. A small fine had been imposed by the village judge on Halsey for his disorderly conduct. The marshal had explained to him that Frank was not the person who had swindled him. He added that very probably through Frank's investigation they would soon discover the ident.i.ty of the United States Mail Order House.

"You can come with us, but you will have to curb your fighting proclivities," warned the marshal. "Here is where the law steps in, and you must not interfere with its course."

"I came a long way to get satisfaction," muttered Halsey. "Somehow, I'll have it too."

The marshal led the way, and they were soon mounting the stairs of Main Street Block. They proceeded quietly, so as to give no warning or create any curiosity with other occupants of the building.

"There is the door," said Frank in a guarded tone, as they reached the landing of the third story.

The marshal advanced and gave a firm resounding knock on its panels.

They could detect a stir within. Then the wicket shot back.

"Who are you--what do you want? Thunder! it's the marshal."

Frank fancied he recognized the tones as belonging to Dale Wacker.

"That's who it is," answered the official. "Here, here I want a word with you, young man."

The wicket was shot as suddenly as it had been opened. They could hear a quick scramble in the room beyond.

"Open this door," loudly demanded the marshal, resuming his knocking.

"They won't do it," spoke up Halsey, advancing a step. "Say," lifting his ponderous fist, "I'll soon clear the way, if you say the word."

"No," responded the marshal, putting up a detaining hand. "We have no legal right to invade the premises. Whoever is in there, cannot escape.

There is no other stairway leading to the street except this one."

"What are you going to do?" asked Frank.

"Why, you had better go back to the town hall with Halsey," advised the officer. "See the clerk, and let Halsey swear out a criminal warrant against Dale Wacker and others concerned in a swindling scheme at this place."

"All right," nodded Frank. "Come Mr. Halsey, let us make haste."

"I will save you any delay, gentlemen," spoke up a new voice.

All three turned, to observe a keen-faced, bright-eyed man who had come quickly up the stairs. There was a certain half-military, half-official precision to his make up that at once impressed Frank.

"Yes," continued the newcomer, coming forward on the landing as though he had a perfect right there, "I'll soon get action here. You are the town marshal, I believe?"

"That's right," nodded the officer, regarding the speaker in some wonderment.

"Well, I am a post-office inspector. Came on a telegram. Got the birds caged in there? Give me a few facts, will you?"

The marshal briefly recited his suspicions and the case of Halsey. The inspector as tersely told of a telegram the post-office department had received, exposing the operations of the United States Mail Order House.

Frank at once decided that Stet was its author.

"No dilatory fraud order case here," observed the inspector briskly.

"It's got to be a raid, I see. Here, let me have a try. In there!"

called out the official in a loud tone of voice, pounding on the door panels, "open in the name of the law, or we shall be obliged to use force."

There was no response whatever to this mandatory challenge. The inspector placed his ear to the door. Then he said sharply.

"Watch out close. I will be back at once."

"He's brought the locksmith with him," announced the marshal a few minutes later, peering over the banisters. "Those government fellows act pretty swiftly when they make up their minds. We haven't the power that they have."