The others laughed.
Marshmallow was in the lead, and held the door of the cabin open for the girls to enter.
Doris walked in and then stopped short.
There sat Ollie Weiser!
CHAPTER XVI
A Promise
As the young people entered the cabin, Ollie Weiser quickly arose from the chair, his face brightening at the sight of Doris.
“Oh,” she gasped, “I didn’t expect you. This is—this is Mr. Mallow, and Mr. Chamberlin. May I present Mr. Weiser?”
The two boys and the unwanted visitor acknowledged the introduction.
“I was just telling Mr?. Mallow my troubles,” he said with an apologetic smile. “It looks as though I’m in real difficulties now. That’s what I came out here to see you about, Miss Force.”
“I don’t know how I can help you.”
“They’re threatening, me with jail. All because I happened to light a few matches.”
“Tell us the truth,” Mrs. Mallow commanded. “Did you accidentally set the hotel on fire?”
The magician shook his head, and was such a picture of abject misery, that they could not doubt his honesty.
“On my word of honor, I don’t know how the fire started. I’m sure I had nothing to do with it.”
“Surely they can’t prove anything against you,”
Doris declared, somewhat moved in spite of her dislike for the man.
“One of the hotel guests swore he saw me moving about with suspicious lights. To make it worse, they’ve discovered that I sold my snakes. They claim they have a clear case against me. After we left here yesterday, they took me to McDermott’s office. The old scalawag grilled me, until X didn’t know whether I was coming or going.”
“You didn’t confess anything?” Doris asked anxiously.
“There wasn’t anything to tell. I had a mind to make up some sort of story just to end the interview, but I didn’t.”
“Perhaps you won’t hear any more about it,” Kitty suggested.
Ollie laughed unpleasantly.
“Oh, they intend to make it hot for me, all right. There’s no chance they’ll let the matter drop. McDermott is only waiting until he can get more evidence against me. The dirty crook!”
“But if you didn’t do it—” Dave interposed.
The magician cut him short.
“That won’t make the slightest difference to Morehouse and that lawyer. They’ve decided to put the blame on me, and unless I move fast, they’ll do it, too! I came out here to ask if you won’t help me, Miss Force.”
Doris looked nonplused. She really believed his story, but she did not wish to become involved in an unpleasant affair.
“Why, I don’t see what I can do,” she protested. “You can speak a good word for me. You will, won’t you?”
Doris hesitated and then said reluctantly:
“Yes, I’ll do anything I can for you.”
With an impulsive gesture the magician caught her hand and pressed it gratefully. Dave scowled.
“You’ll never regret helping me,” Ollie cried. “If ever I can return the favor, just call on me.” Doris was greatly relieved when he left a few minutes later. Dave looked as though he could cheerfully have kicked the magician out of the door, but he restrained his feelings until Ollie disappeared.
“What right has he to come here with his troubles?” Dave demanded. “I don’t like the fellow. I wish you hadn’t promised to help him, Doris.”
“What could I do, Dave? He hasn’t a single friend in Cloudy Cove and you know that McDermott is probably an unscrupulous lawyer. I didn’t want to be drawn into the case, but I do feel sorry for Mr. Weiser.”
Dave wisely permitted the matter to drop, though it was obvious that he was a bit jealous of the magician. Doris pretended not to notice this and hoped that he would be sensible. It seemed ridiculous to her that Dave could consider Ollie a rival. She regretted her promise, yet she could not bring herself to the point of ignoring it. Fairness demanded that she aid the magician if possible.
Monday morning brought a more important problem—the affairs of her late Uncle John Trent. Promptly at the appointed hour Doris presented herself at the bank. As she waited outside the President’s private office, she nervously considered her mission. So much depended upon what Mr. Cooke could tell her! If he were unable to furnish her with vital information, then the trip to Cloudy Cove would be a failure.
“Mr. Cooke will see you now,” she was informed by a stenographer.
She followed the girl to the inner office. Mr. Cooke, a well-dressed, stout gentleman of youthful appearance, arose and politely offered Doris a chair. The stenographer withdrew.
“What may I do for you, Miss Force?” the President inquired.
Doris forgot her shyness and plunged into her story. She told of the mysterious disappearance of her Uncle John Trent many years before, and how Joe Jeffery, the noted criminal, had endeavored to pass himself off as a son of the deceased man. She ended by explaining that Jeffery had not made a complete confession, but had told her to go to Cloudy Cove, where she would learn all about the Estate of her uncle.
“John Trent,” the banker spoke thoughtfully. “The name isn’t familiar to me.”
“Then you can’t help me?” Doris questioned, struggling to hide her disappointment. “I was under the impression that my uncle once had a safe deposit box in this bank.”
“It’s barely possible,” Mr. Cooke agreed. “I’ll have one of the clerks bring the records.”
He pressed a button on his desk, and when his secretary appeared, requested her to send Mr. Whitefeld to him with the data.
“Perhaps there is someone on your staff who might remember my uncle,” Doris suggested hopefully, while they were waiting for the clerk. “He must have lived here at Cloudy Cove for many years.”
The President shook his head regretfully.
“The bank has been entirely reorganized since the date you mention. Our employees are comparatively new to the institution. I am afraid there is no one working here now who would remember your uncle’s account.”
After a brief wait the clerk appeared with the required records and placed the sheets before the President. He scanned them for some time in silence. When Doris had almost given up hope, he glanced up with a smile.
“How stupid of me not to recall the name when you mentioned it. I find by the records that your uncle did have an account in this bank years ago. What will interest you more, I find he did rent a safe deposit box from us.”
“What was the last date that the rent was paid?” Doris questioned eagerly.
The banker glanced at the sheet before him. “The rent has been paid to date.”
“To date? What do you mean?” Doris asked. “My uncle is dead.”
“It has been paid by a lawyer named McDermott.”
“McDermott! Why should he pay the rent on the box?”
“Perhaps he has charge of your late uncle’s Estate. I advise you to consult him. It is possible he can aid you in establishing your claim to the fortune.”
“I shall go to see him at once. How long has he been paying the box rent?”
“For