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Updated: June 29, 2025
Whoever had tossed out the mysterious message had disappeared again behind the dark shutters. "Well, this gets me," murmured the boy. "I wonder what it means? Is it a joke; or something serious?" Then another idea came to him. "It's written on a typewriter!" he exclaimed. "I wonder if it could have been done by Mort Decker? Perhaps he is in trouble there with Muchmore.
Stockton," threatened Bert. "Do, you young rascal, when you can find him," and, with a laugh, Muchmore motioned his two unwelcome visitors to leave. "Well, we didn't find out much," remarked the stenographer, as he and Bert were descending the hill toward the village. "I'm afraid I made rather a mess of it. He came back unexpectedly." "Maybe he never went away." "Mrs.
"No, I'm going to stay away from there." "I guess that will be best, for a time," decided Bert. Though the boys were not thanked by Muchmore, for their good work at the blaze in the Stockton mansion, the lads knew that they had done efficient service. Herbert, however, was not satisfied with his department.
Maybe it's a lunatic, or some poor fellow whom Muchmore has fleeced out of all his money by gambling." "Then he is a gambler?" "Yes; but how did you know?" "Well, it is rumored so in the village." "Yes. He is a gambler, and something more. I believe he is a worse criminal. He has had several gambling parties at his house. Men come after dark, in automobiles, along the private road.
Often I had to stay in bed for days at a time. I made the fire of some old papers and rags, and I had a pail of water ready to throw on it in case it got going too fiercely. Then Muchmore came and caught me, and locked me up.
The station agent, who knows Mr. Stockton quite well, doesn't remember his going away, and he'd have to go from here to New York, if he sailed for Europe, which is the story Muchmore tells in the village." "Boys," said Bert suddenly, "I believe there is something mysterious about that house. I thought so when I saw how queer Muchmore acted.
"Who are you?" inquired the man, who appeared very much excited, more so than the occasion called for, since, as yet, the fire was not beyond control. "I'm captain of the Boys' Volunteer Fire Department," replied Bert. "Who are you?" "I'm Mr. Muchmore. I'm in possession of this house, and you can't pass here!" "But I only want to see if there's another place on fire.
"I'm going to make a try to get on that top floor," he said, "and I want you to help me." "When are you going to do it?" "To-night, in a little while. Muchmore is away, and there's nobody but the housekeeper there. We'll see who that mysterious prisoner is, who sends out typewritten messages asking for help. Will you come?" "Sure. I don't have to stay here. It's my night off."
"Then keep out of places where you have no right to enter! There is no fire here!" "But it may get here soon, and we wanted to save the things," added Vincent. "Get out!" exclaimed Muchmore, in an angry voice. "Don't you attempt to go into that room. You'd better pay more attention to the blaze." "The blaze is being attended to all right," replied Herbert. "We've got two streams on it.
"Oh, I guess not. But how are things at the house of mystery? Have you discovered anything new?" The two had walked out from the barn, to converse alone. "I don't like the way things are going," replied the stenographer. "Muchmore gave me several other deeds to copy to-day, and in some he had me change the descriptions and names. I don't like it. I'm sure, now, that he is a crook."
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