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Randy of the River: The Adventures of a Young Deckhand, a fiction by Horatio Alger |
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Chapter 20. What Came Of A Demand |
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_ CHAPTER XX. WHAT CAME OF A DEMAND The letter from Amos Bangs worried Andrew Shalley a little and he at once called on Captain Hadley, as soon as the steamboat made a landing at Nyack. "It seems you ran down a boy a few days ago," said the steamboat owner. "He tried to run us down," answered the captain, quietly. "Was he hurt?" "Not in the least." "His father wants a thousand dollars' damages." "I wouldn't pay him a cent." "Did you run him down?" "No, he tried to run us down." "This is no joke, Captain Hadley." "I know it, Mr. Shalley. But to threaten us with a suit at law is absurd. I can bring a dozen witnesses to prove that the accident was entirely of the boy's making." "I am glad to hear that," and Andrew Shalley breathed a sigh of relief. He did not care so much for the money, but he wanted to know that Captain Hadley was not to blame. "That boy acted like a little fool from beginning to end," went on the captain of the steamboat and then told his story. Later Randy was called up, to relate what he had done, and also Jones. "If there is any trouble some of the passengers will testify for us," said Captain Hadley, and mentioned half a dozen who had said they would stick to the captain, in case of trouble. The passengers were well-known citizens, whose testimony would be sure to carry weight in any court of law. Having satisfied himself that Amos Bangs had no case against him, the steamboat owner wrote to the rich manufacturer to that effect. By return mail he received this reply: "Your bluff will not work with me. You are to blame and must pay. If I do not receive your check for one thousand dollars by the middle of next week I shall bring suit. My son is now in bed and under the doctor's care because of the accident." "Humph! Under the doctor's care, eh?" mused the steamboat owner. "This certainly seems to be serious after all. He will certainly make trouble for me even if he doesn't win his case." Again the steamboat owner interviewed Captain Hadley, and then the pair called in Randy, to learn what he could tell about the Bangs family in general. Our hero told all he knew, including the trouble Mr. Bartlett was having with the iron manufacturer. "Evidently he is a man to get money in any manner possible," mused Andrew Shalley. "He will certainly bring suit." "I don't believe Bob is sick," said Randy. "He must be shamming." "I wish I knew for sure." "Perhaps I can find out for you--if you'll give me a day or two off," said our hero, struck by a sudden idea. "A good plan!" cried Captain Hadley. "Let the lad see what he can do, by all means." The matter was talked over, and the upshot was that on the next trip of the steamboat Randy went ashore at Catskill, near which town Bob Bangs and his mother were spending their vacation. From some men at the dock our hero was enabled to find out all about the damaged sloop, which had been returned to Catskill. It was to cost twenty dollars to put the craft in good condition again. "Those folks are stopping at a small hotel on the Burnham road," said one of the dock men. "It's called the Sharon House." "Thank you," returned our hero. He was soon on the way to the Sharon House--since demolished by fire. It did not take him long to cover the distance. As he approached he looked around for some signs of the Bangs family and presently espied Mrs. Bangs lounging in a hammock on a side veranda, reading a novel. "I wonder if it is possible that Bob is really in bed sick?" he mused. "If he is it's a wonder Mrs. Bangs isn't with him. But then I guess she is a selfish woman, anyway." Randy walked around the hotel and down to the stable. Here he met a colored boy who helped around the horses. "Say, can you tell me where I can find Bob Bangs?" he asked, boldly. "Bob Bangs jest went down to the ball grounds," was the answer, which surprised Randy not a little. "Where are the grounds?" "That way," and the colored boy pointed with his hand. "I thought maybe Bob was sick." "He ain't sick--he's only pertendin'," answered the colored boy. Randy said no more but hurried off in the direction of the baseball grounds. Just as he came in sight of the place, he saw a figure ahead that looked familiar to him. "Unless I am mistaken, that is Bob," he told himself, and hurried closer. It was indeed Bob Bangs, walking along as if nothing had ever happened to him. He was smoking a cigarette. He passed into the grounds and Randy did the same, and took a seat on a bench directly behind the rich youth. It was easy to see that Bob Bangs was not suffering physically. He smoked half a dozen cigarettes, and applauded as loudly as anybody when a good play was made. "Fine game," said a man sitting next to Randy. "It is," said our hero. He looked at the man and saw that he was evidently a merchant. "Excuse me, are you from Catskill?" "I am." "Do you want to do me a favor if I pay you for it?" "Well, it won't be a favor if you pay me." "I may want your assistance and I may not. Do you see that boy there?" "Yes." "He doesn't look as if he was sick abed, does he?" "Sick abed? What sort of a game is this?" and the merchant looked Randy over with much curiosity. "That boy's father says he is sick in bed. I want to prove that it isn't so." "What is the game, anyway?" "He had an accident on the river and he wants damages from a man I work for. It is a put-up job." "Oh! I've heard of such things before. I know a rascal who cut his foot with an ax and then went down to the railroad and laid the blame on a train. He got five hundred dollars, but, later on, was found out and sent to prison for the deception." "Well, this isn't exactly like that. Didn't you hear about a sloop running into the _Helen Shalley_ a few days ago?" "Oh, yes, a friend of mine, a passenger on the boat, told me about it. He said the boy didn't know how to handle the craft." "Well, that is the boy." "Indeed!" "Does he act as if he was hurt or suffering?" "Not in the least." "Would you be willing to testify to that fact, if it came to law?" "Certainly." "Will you give me your name and address?" "Here is my card," and the merchant handed it over. He did not add that he occasionally sold Captain Hadley some goods and was glad to do the master of the steamboat a service. The game was almost at an end when the ball was sent among the spectators. Seeing it coming towards him, Bob Bangs leaped up and tried to catch the sphere. It hit the tips of his fingers, stinging them greatly. Then the ball came towards Randy and he caught it and threw it back into the field. "What are you doing here?" demanded Bob Bangs, as he caught sight of our hero. "Watching the game," answered Randy, quietly. "Humph!" "Pretty nice game, Bob." "Humph!" muttered the rich boy again. "I see you are feeling fine again." "I am not--I am real sick," answered the rich boy, quickly. "Sick in bed, eh?" went on our hero, with a grin. "I was in bed." "Last night, I suppose. So was I." "I'm sick yet." "You showed it--by the way you were cheering and yelling." "When did you come in?" "Right after you." "Humph! Have you been watching me?" "Yes." "You might be in a better business," sneered the rich boy. "I don't think so. You need watching. You and your father want to cheat the steamboat company by pretending that you were hurt in that collision, and here you are as well and hearty as ever," added Randy in a loud voice, so that those nearby might hear. "I ain't well--I'm sick." "You said that before--but nobody will believe it." "You're well enough to go to a ball game and yell and smoke cigarettes, anyway," put in the merchant sitting next to Randy. A good play brought forth a cheer from the crowd which drowned out further talk. In the midst of the temporary excitement Bob Bangs sneaked from the stand and from the ball grounds. "He feels sick over this," laughed the merchant. "Well, he can't sue the steamboat company for that sickness," laughed our hero in return. _ |
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