A Young Inventor's Pluck Part 12

Corrigan was not prepared to answer this question.

"He is--down the street," he stammered.

"Where?"

"Why--down in McGlory's saloon."

This reply was a fatal blunder for Corrigan, who by a little scheme of his own, had proposed to get the model into his possession without any difficulty.

"In McGlory's saloon!" repeated Deb, in amazement. "Why, Jack doesn't drink."

"Oh, yes, he does--once in a while," replied Corrigan, glibly.

"You're mistaken!" returned Deb, sharply. "What does he want the model for?"

She was growing a trifle suspicious. The article in question was valuable, and just now doubly so.

"I don't know what he's going to do with it. Got it handy?"

Involuntarily Deb glanced over to where the model stood covered with a cloth. She regretted the action an instant after, for Corrigan's eyes watched her closely.

"How far is that saloon from here?" she asked.

"Only a few blocks."

"Queer he didn't come for it himself."

"He was too busy. He asked me to go for him, and sent this paper as an order. He said you'd know all about it," replied Corrigan, and he handed out the agreement he had stolen from Jack.

Deb recognized the paper at once. Jack must certainly have given it to the man, and yet, for a reason she could not explain, she felt that all was not right.

One thing she remembered; her brother had repeatedly cautioned her not to let outsiders examine the model under any plea. To place it, therefore, in a stranger's hands seemed a risk she did not care to a.s.sume.

"What's the matter?" asked Corrigan, as Deb still hesitated. "Ain't it all right?"

He was growing uneasy, fearful of being interrupted just at the moment when the prize was almost within his grasp.

"I would rather have my brother come for it himself," said the girl finally.

"He can't come; he's too busy," persisted the intruder.

"It wouldn't take long to get it if he is only a few blocks away."

"Yes, but he doesn't want to leave. He has a chance of selling it to a man for big money, and he's afraid the man may back out if he leaves him."

Deb was sorely perplexed. The man might be speaking the truth, in which case she did not for the world wish Jack to lose the chance of striking a bargain.

"So I'll take it right along at once," continued Corrigan, stepping over to where the model stood.

But, at this instant, a bright idea came into the girl's head. She knew that she could trust Mr. Snitzer, or one of his sons, and was sure that any one of them would do her a favor willingly.

"You need not take so much trouble," she exclaimed, stepping between the man and the model. "Just leave the address of the place, and I will send it up at once."

This was a staggerer for Corrigan, and he knew not how to answer.

"No, I'll take it myself," he replied, roughly.

His words sent a dreadful chill to Deb's heart. In an instant she realized the man's true object, and her own helpless condition.

"What do you mean?" she cried in terror.

"I mean that if you won't give me the model I'll take it."

The words had hardly been uttered before Deb gave a terrible scream.

"Stop your noise!" hissed Corrigan, jumping to her side, and clapping his hand over her mouth.

The girl struggled to escape, but she was as a feather in this powerful fellow's arms, and half fainting, she felt herself borne into the next room, and the door locked upon her.

Then she heard Corrigan pick up the model, and hurry down the stairs and out of the house.

CHAPTER IX.

MR. BENTON MAKES TROUBLE

"Help! Help!"

"Vas is dot?" exclaimed Mrs. Snitzer, who had been dozing in the rocking chair awaiting her son's return.

"Sounds like some von vas in troubles," replied her husband, from the sofa.

Both sprang to their feet and hurried to the door.

Mrs. Snitzer had scarcely opened it when a man rushed past her and out of the front hall-way.

"Help! Help!"

"It vas Deb, for sure!" cried the German woman, and she ascended the stairs as fast as her portly form would permit, closely followed by her husband.

It took but a moment to pa.s.s through the kitchen and unlock the door of the adjoining chamber. They found Deb half dead from fright, and vainly endeavoring to escape.

"Oh, Mrs. Snitzer, a man has just stolen Jack's model!" gasped the poor girl. "He ran down stairs."

"Ve saw him," put in Mr. Snitzer. "I go me after him," he continued, hurrying off as rapidly as his legs would move.