"Yes, I am Dave Porter," answered Dave, and looked at Shocker curiously. The fellow was a total stranger to him.
"Got a note for you," went on Shocker, and produced it. It was sealed and marked _Private_ in plain letters.
Wondering what the note could contain, Dave opened and read it. His face changed color and he gave a little gasp.
"Excuse me, I'll have to--to leave you for a little while," he stammered to the others.
"What's the matter?" asked Roger.
"I--I can't tell you just now." Dave turned to his uncle. "Where will you get dinner, Uncle Dunston?"
"At the International."
"All right--I'll be there before long," answered Dave, and sprang to the ground.
"But what's up?" cried Phil. He could see that his chum was much disturbed.
"I--I can't tell you, Phil. But I'll be back before you finish your dinner."
"Don't you want some one along?" asked Laura, who did not like to see her brother depart in the company of such a looking stranger as Tom Shocker.
"No, Laura. Oh, it's all right. I'll be at the International on time," said Dave, and then he hurried over the bridge and down a side street of the city, in company with Tom Shocker.
The note Dave had received was written in a cramped hand and ran as follows:
"DEAR DAVE:--You will be surprised to receive this, but I saw you in town to-day and noted the number of your carriage. I am in deep trouble and would like you to come and see me in private, if only for five or ten minutes. You can aid me a great deal. Please don't tell any of the others of your party. The man who brings this to you will take you to me. Please, _please_ don't disappoint me.
"Yours truly, "ANDREW DALE."
Andrew Dale was the first assistant teacher at Oak Hall, and an instructor who had made himself very dear to Dave and some of the other boys. He had sided with Dave when the latter was termed "a poorhouse nobody," and this had made teacher and pupil close friends.
"What's the matter with my friend?" asked Dave, as he and Tom Shocker hurried through several side streets of the city.
"I don't know exactly," was the reply. "Money matters, I think, and the gent is sick, too. He wanted it kept very quiet--said it might ruin his reputation if it got out."
"Well, I didn't say anything to anybody," answered Dave. "How much further have we to go?"
"Only a couple of blocks."
But the "couple of blocks" proved to be five, and they had to make another turn or two. Then they came to the side door of a building used as a lodging house and a pool and billiard parlor. This resort was run by a man named Bill Fargo, a sport who had once had dealings with Shocker in a prize-fighting enterprise.
"He's got a room here--up on the third floor," said Shocker, as he saw Dave hesitate. "Come on, I'll show you."
He went ahead, up the somewhat dilapidated stairs, and Dave followed. In the pool and billiard parlors below some men were laughing and talking, and clicking the ivory balls together, but upstairs it was silent, and nobody seemed to be around.
During the past few years of his life Dave had had a number of stirring adventures, and he was by no means as green as he had been when first he had set out for Oak Hall. He did not like the looks of his surroundings, and he resolved to keep his wits about him and be on his guard.
"Why should Mr. Dale come to a place like this?" he asked himself. He knew the teacher to be a model man, who did not drink or gamble.
"Here we are," said Tom Shocker, as he stopped in front of a door at the back of the hallway on the third floor of the building. "I guess you can go right in. He's on the bed with his broken ankle."
"His broken ankle?" repeated Dave. "Why didn't you tell me of that before?"
"I thought I did," returned Shocker, smoothly. "Here you are. It's dark, isn't it? I'll light the gas," and he commenced to fumble in his pocket, as if hunting for a match.
It was dark, and for several seconds Dave could see little or nothing. He heard a faint groan.
"Is that you, Mr. Dale?" he asked, kindly.
A low reply was returned--so low that Dave could not make out what was said. He went into the room a few steps further. As he did so Tom Shocker closed the door and locked it. Dave heard the click of the lock's bolt and wheeled around.
"What did you do?" he demanded sharply.
"I guess I've got you now, Dave Porter!" cried another voice, and now Dave recognized the tones of Nat Poole. "You played me a scurvy trick by putting me aboard the freight train. I guess it's about time I paid you back; don't you think so?"
CHAPTER VII
IN WHICH DAVE IS ROBBED
Dave found himself in a decidedly unpleasant situation. The door of the room was locked and Tom Shocker stood against it. The man lit the gas, but allowed it to remain low. Dave saw Nat Poole standing close to a bed. The money-lender's son had a small bottle and some cotton in his hand.
"I suppose this is a trick?" said Dave, as coolly as he could.
"Rather good one, too, isn't it?" returned Nat, lightly.
"That depends on how you look at it, Nat. Did you forge Mr. Dale's name?"
"Why--er--I--er----"
"That isn't a nice business to be in."
"Humph! you needn't preach to me, Dave Porter! You played a dirty trick on me and I am going to pay you back."
"What are you going to do?"
"You'll see soon enough."
"I want you to open that door!" cried Dave, wheeling around and confronting Tom Shocker. "Open it at once!"
"This is none of my affair, Mr. Porter," answered the man, with a slight sneer. "You can settle it with Mr. Poole."
"I'll settle with you, you rascal!" cried Dave, and leaping forward he caught Tom Shocker by the shoulder and forced him aside. "Give me that key!"
"Don't you do it!" cried Nat. "Here, wait, I'll fix him! Hold him!"
Nat poured some of the stuff in the bottle on the cotton and advanced on Dave. At the same time Tom Shocker caught Dave by both arms and essayed to hold him.
Dave was strong, and a sudden fear gave him additional strength. He might have been a match for his two assailants, but for the stuff on the cotton. This was chloroform, and when Nat clapped the saturated cotton to his mouth and nose he was speedily rendered all but unconscious.
"Don't give him too much!" he heard Tom Shocker say.
"You watch him, while I tie his hands," answered Nat, and then Dave was forced back and onto the bed. He struggled weakly, but could not free himself, and before he realized it he was a close prisoner, with his hands tied fast to the head of the bed and his feet fast to the lower end. He was flat on his back.
"Now, you can stay there until somebody comes to release you," said Nat, mockingly. "I reckon that will teach you a lesson not to send me off on freight trains!"
"Nat, I've got to get back to Buffalo to catch my train for Chicago."
"Humph. Not to-night. You'll stay here."
"The others will worry about me."