Nelson The Newsboy

"Homer, Gertrude has turned her back upon me!"

"Gertrude!" cried the nephew, very much startled.

"Yes, Gertrude. I—I did not think it possible."

"But I don't understand, Uncle Mark. Did you—er—did you send to her?"

"I will confess I did, Homer. I could stand it no longer. I wanted to see the dear child again."

"And she turned her back on you?" went on Bulson, hardly knowing what to say.

"She did. I sent for her to come at once. She had not gone to Boston, but to Lakewood, and was to be back in the evening. That was yesterday. She is not yet here, and that proves that she has forsaken me and wants nothing more to do with me."

At these words a crafty look came into Homer Bulson's eyes.

"Uncle Mark, I am sorry for you, but I could have told you as much some time ago," he said smoothly.

"You could have told me?"

"Yes. I went to Gertrude when she was thinking of going to Boston and begged her to come back. I even offered to go away, so that she would not be bothered with me. But she would not listen. She said that she was done with you, and that she preferred her theatrical friends to such a home as this, where there was no excitement. She is changed—and changed for the worse."

"Oh, Homer! can this be true? The dear, gentle Gertrude I once so loved and petted! But it is my own fault. I drove her away. I have only myself to blame." And burying his face in his pillow, the sick man sobbed aloud.

Instead of replying, Homer Bulson got out of a medicine closet the bottle of wine he had brought two days before and poured out a glassful.

"Take this, Uncle Mark. I know it will do you good," he said.

"No, I want no wine!" cried Mr. Horton. And suddenly he dashed wine and glass to the floor. "I hate it! It does me no good. I want nothing but Gertrude!" And he buried his face in his pillow again.

"I will do my best to bring her to you," said Bulson hypocritically.

He remained at the mansion a short while, and was then told that there was a man who wished to see him.

He hurried to his own apartments across the way, and here found himself face to face with Sam Pepper.

"You played me a fine trick," growled Pepper. "Give me back the papers you stole from me."

"Let us come to an understanding," said Bulson. "I am willing to pay for what I took, Pepper. Come with me."

"Want to drug me again?"

"No. I want to get where it is quiet. Come."

"All right, I'll go along. Supposing you come to my place?"

"That will suit me. I want to make a new deal with you."

And the pair started for Sam Pepper's resort on the East Side.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

QUESTIONS OF IMPORTANCE

"Sure, and this is a double mystery, so it is. What do you make of it, Mr. Van Pelt?"

It was Mrs. Kennedy who spoke. The non-appearance of Gertrude had worried her greatly, and she had visited Van Pelt, to learn that Nelson was also missing.

"I don't know what to make of it," answered George Van Pelt. "Nelson went after Billy Darnley, who robbed our stand. Perhaps he has met with foul play."

"Could our Gertrude have met with foul play at Lakewood?"

"I shouldn't think so. She knew where she was going, didn't she?"

"To be sure—to a Mrs. Broaderick's; she read the letter to me herself."

"Perhaps Mrs. Broaderick asked her to stay over," said Van Pelt. "I can't think of anything else."

While the pair were talking Mrs. Kennedy happened to look up the street.

"Here comes Nelson now!" she cried suddenly.

She was right, and soon our hero was at the stand, and shaking each by the hand.

"I feel as if I've been on a long trip," he said, with a broad smile.

"Where have you been?" questioned Van Pelt and Mrs. Kennedy in a breath, and then he told them his story, and also told of what had happened to Gertrude.

"The dirty villain!" cried Mrs. Kennedy, referring to Bulson. "He ought to be put in prison. But the poor girl's troubles are over now."

Then she told of how Mark Horton wanted his niece to come back to him.

"Perhaps he wants her back, and perhaps this is another trick," said Nelson. "After this I am going to help guard her more than ever."

"Where is she now?"

"At home. She doesn't know what to do. She thinks of calling on her uncle—to warn him against Bulson. We've got an idea the man is poisoning his uncle in order to get the entire fortune."

"Those books on poison–" began Van Pelt.

"Exactly," said Nelson. "You can testify to them, can't you?"

"To be sure. You had better tell the police of this."

"I shall," said Nelson, quietly but firmly.

The matter was talked over, and our hero determined to call again upon Gertrude, whom he had just left at Mrs. Kennedy's rooms.

When told of the message her uncle had sent the poor girl burst into tears of joy.