CHAPTER XXVI. ALEXANDER SLOCUM IS ASTONISHED.

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Jerry felt that his mission to the real estate man was a delicate one. What would he have to say when he learned who the youth was and what he had come for?

The boy resolved to be on guard. He might be from the country and green, but no one should catch him napping, as had Mr. Wakefield Smith.

The distance to the address furnished by Nellie Ardell was nearly a dozen blocks, but Jerry was used to walking and made the journey on foot.

The young oarsman found Alexander Slocum’s set of offices located on the top floor of an old-fashioned four-story office building. There was an elevator, however, and this Jerry used and soon found himself in front of a ground-glass door, which bore the sign:

Alexander Slocum,

Real Estate and Fire Insurance.

Loans Negotiated.

There was a hum of voices from within, but the hum ceased as Jerry knocked.

“Come in,” was the short invitation, and the boy entered, to find a large apartment, comfortably furnished with desks, stuffed chairs and other things which went to show that the man he had come to interview was doing well.

Near an open window sat two gentlemen dressed in black. One was much older than the other, and Jerry rightfully guessed that he was an office assistant.

The other man was well preserved, with a waxed mustache and piercing black eyes. He held a silk hat in his hand, as if he had been on the point of leaving.

“Well, young man, what can I do for you?” questioned the office assistant, as he regarded Jerry indifferently.

“I came to see Mr. Alexander Slocum,” replied our hero.

“I am Mr. Slocum,” put in the other man. “What is it you want?”

“I came to see you on a bit of private business, sir.”

“Yes. Well, Mr. Casey here knows all about my affairs; so you need have no hesitation in speaking in front of him,” laughed the real estate man somewhat harshly.

“I am Jerry Upton, and I came from Lakeview. My uncle, Charles Upton, who is now dead, was once interested in a colonization land scheme that you started.”

Jerry watched Mr. Slocum narrowly as he spoke, and saw that the man was greatly astonished. He started back, and for an instant the assuring look his face wore faded.

“Jerry Upton from Lakeview,” he murmured slowly. Then he cleared his throat. “I—I did not expect to see you.”

“I suppose not, sir.”

“What is it you want?”

“I want to find out how matters stand in regard to the land in California. My father heard you had gone to Europe.”

“I did go to Europe, but not to escape inquiry,” added Slocum, hastily. “You see, that scheme failed utterly,” he went on slowly. “Why, I lost nearly every dollar I possessed in it. What your uncle lost was nothing in comparison.”

“It was to him, Mr. Slocum. To whom does the land belong?”

“Why, it—er—it reverted to its original owners, some mine speculators of Denver.”

“Where is the land located?”

“Not far from the city of Sacramento.”

“Can’t you give me the precise location?”

At this Alexander Slocum glared at our hero savagely.

“It would do you no good to spend money on hunting the matter up,” he answered. “That affair was settled long ago. The money was lost, and that is all there is to it.”

“Not if I know it, Mr. Slocum. I intend to sift the matter to the bottom. I am convinced that all was not carried out as it should have been.”

“You appear to be a very foolish boy.”

“That may be your opinion, but it won’t alter my intention. I have my uncle’s papers with me, and, unless you will give me some particulars of how the scheme fell through, I shall place the matter in the hands of a lawyer.”

Alexander Slocum winced at this, and Jerry fancied he was hard struck. He made a movement as if to clutch the youth by the arm, then drew back.

“You have your uncle’s papers?” he asked cautiously.

“Yes. My father is his sole heir.”

“I should like to see them. Perhaps I spoke hastily; but really you are mistaken in thinking it can be of any use to bring that old deal up again. The money was lost, and there is no chance of getting it back again.”

“But, either you are responsible for the amount, or else my uncle’s interest in the land still holds good,” said Jerry.

“Let me see the papers.”

Mr. Slocum made a movement as if to take them. But Jerry drew back and shook his head.

“I prefer not to let them go out of my possession.”

“Do you mean to say you won’t trust me?”

“You can put it that way, if you wish, Mr. Slocum.”

The real estate man bit his lip. Then he made a movement to his assistant, who at once slid behind Jerry, towards the door.

“What are you going to do?” the young oarsman asked, in alarm.

Without replying, the assistant locked the door and slipped the key into his pocket.

“Don’t grow excited,” said Alexander Slocum, coldly. “I want to see those papers, that’s all. Show them to me at once!”

Like a flash Jerry realized he was trapped by the enemy.

wreath

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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