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But Arnold Baxter would not listen to it, so the graceless son had to bide his time. The afternoon was an anxious one for both of the Baxters, who were afraid that the Rovers would find their way to Dr. Karley's place and thwart their carefully arranged plan. But no one put in an appearance, and by nightfall everything was in readiness for the departure.
"I'm going to interview every cabby in town," said Tom, and proceeded to do so, accompanied by Luke Peterson and Sam. At five o'clock in the afternoon they found the coach driver who had taken Dick from the dock. "The man said they had no rooms vacant at the Commercial Hotel," said the coach driver. "So he had me drive the party to Dr. Karley's Private Sanitarium." "Where is that?"
The horse now became frightened and set off on a run, directly for a lane behind Dr. Karley's institution. "Tom, are you badly hurt?" questioned Sam, but, even as he spoke, Tom tried to stagger to his feet. Seeing this, Sam began a chase after Baxter, with the lumberman beside him.
"On the outskirts, about a mile and a half from here." "Can you take us there now?" "Sorry, but I've got a job in quarter of an hour." "We'll pay you double fare," put in Sam. "Get somebody else to take that other job." To this the coach driver readily agreed, but to make the arrangement took time, and it was six o'clock before they were on the way to Dr. Karley's place.
"So do I, and I wouldn't wonder if poor Dick is at the place, a prisoner." The matter was talked over for several minutes, and the two brothers decided to return to Dr. Karley's sanitarium. The lumberman said he would remain around the docks on the lookout for Arnold Baxter. "If you catch him I'll give you fifty dollars," said Tom. "My father, I know, will pay the amount willingly."
Karley's Private Sanitarium was on the outskirts of Cleveland, and it took half an hour to reach it. It was an old-fashioned building surrounded by a high board fence. Entering the grounds, Arnold Baxter ascended the piazza and rang the bell. A negro answered the summons, and ushered him into a dingy parlor. Soon Dr. Karley, a dried-up, bald-headed, old man appeared.
"It's too bad, but they haven't a single room vacant," he said, on coming back to the coach. "I've a good mind to take him to some private hospital, after all. Do you know where Dr. Karley's place is?" he went on, turning to the coach driver. "Yes." "Then drive us to that place." Again the coach went on. Dr.
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