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"I'm not afraid of that. But what do you make of this message?" Mort, who had not closely examined the paper before, started as he caught sight of it. "Why, that was written on my typewriter!" he exclaimed. "I mean on the one Muchmore bought for me to use. I can tell, because the letter 'e' prints a little bit out of alignment." "Who wrote it?" asked Bert. "What do you make of it?"
"I wonder if he's here, or if Muchmore found out what he was up to, and drove him out," thought Bert, as he waited for an answer. But in a few minutes the stenographer admitted him. "Don't make any noise," he cautioned. "Mrs. Blarcum is in her room, but she has good hearing in spite of her age, and I think she is somehow mixed up with the mystery.
Sometimes they arrive in the motor boat from the other side of the lake. They don't pass through the village at all. Oh, I see and hear things that Muchmore never suspects I know about." "But what makes you think he is a criminal?" "Because he has had me doing some queer work lately." "What kind?" "Making copies of old deeds and mortgages.
Now, no man has deeds and mortgages copied unless he is going to dispose of property, and all this property is in the name of Harris Stockton, his uncle. I believe Muchmore is up to some crooked game." "But where is Mr. Stockton?" "That's what I can't find out.
Out for a practice drill?" asked a voice, and Herbert and his chums saw, in the glare from the lamps on the engine, Mr. Alfred Muchmore coming out of the driveway that led to the big house. "We came in response to a fire alarm," said Bert, "but I don't see any blaze." "Blaze? There isn't any. I don't understand it. I don't want you boys around here. You'd better leave."
Crabtree whom I have heard of, to call his son Agreen, or because the old Puritan name had been in the family, or with a like original inspiration of luck and thrift to that which influenced the later christening, if you can call it such; and now, therefore, resulted Increase Muchmore Argenter.
Surprising!" were some of the adjectives Lieutenant Muchmore used as he stepped from the conning tower, with Captain Henderson, onto the deck. At the appearance of the officer and the inventor a group of those on the Sylph gave three cheers for the little vessel. "Is she for sale?" asked Captain Wackford. "No, thank you," replied Mr. Henderson with a laugh.
A little later the old woman disappeared and all trace of her was lost. As for Mr. Stockton, he soon was in his own apartments, where he quickly removed the signs of his imprisonment. Then he told his story, briefly, to Bert and his chums. Muchmore, it appeared, had always been a bad character, but he had told his uncle that he had reformed, and had begged his relative to give him a home.
Into the mysterious house rushed the young fire-fighters, with Mort at their head to show them the way. The partly shattered door leading into the corridor was quickly broken open, in spite of the protests of Mrs. Blarcum, who did not seem to understand that Muchmore had fled, and that the real owner of the mansion was again in possession.
"I'm sure I don't know what to say. There is some mystery about it. I will try and get on the track of it, but to do that I must get up on the top floor, and that is a place Muchmore carefully guards. Perhaps you can help me." "I'm afraid not, but I'll try." "Do," urged the stenographer. "I'll see you again, and " At that instant the fire alarm began ringing, and Bert rushed back to the barn.
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