Two Boys of the Battleship: or, For the Honor of Uncle Sam

Frank whistled.

“It looks serious,” he said.

“It is serious!” declared his uncle. “I have been served with legal notices, and the time limit is almost up. I must either settle or go to jail.”

“Jail?” cried Frank, stung by the word.

“Well, that’s what many persons would call it,” said his uncle, with a grim smile. “Really, it will be a federal prison, for it is the United States federal authorities who are acting against me. I won’t actually be locked up in a cell, I suppose, nor set to breaking stone, and I may not have to wear stripes. You see it is a sort of political business accusation against me.”

“But why do you have to go to jail, or to a federal prison, at all?” asked Ned. “Can’t you be bailed?”

“Too late for that after conviction. What I need now is money to continue the fight.”

“Use your own money – or ours!” cried Frank, eagerly. Both lads loved their uncle almost as a father.

“The trouble is that your money and mine will be attached – held in escrow, I believe they call it – to settle for these damages in case I can not prove my innocence of having financed a revolution,” Mr. Arden declared. “So with our money tied up that way, none will be available, and I’ll have to be – well, let us call it detained – for years,” and once more he smiled grimly.

Ned and Frank did not know what to think. They asked their uncle many questions, and he answered them as best he could; but they did not understand all the details.

“As near as I can figure out,” said Frank, when he and his brother went up to their rooms just before supper, “Uncle Phil is accused of starting a revolution, which he didn’t. And in the revolution some damage was done that must be paid for, and they’re looking to him to put up the money. If he doesn’t they’ll lock him up, and put his money in their own strong boxes, where he can’t use it to fight the case further.”

“That’s about the way it sizes up,” agreed Ned.

“Well, what’s the next move?” asked his brother.

“Hanged if I know,” said Ned. “I can’t think of anything. And I haven’t got any too much cash on hand,” he added, as he went over to a box on his bureau, where he kept his money.

“It sure is a queer situation,” conceded Frank. “If we were only on a battleship now, we could go down to that little measly one-horse South American republic, unlimber our big guns and tell ’em to fork over our money, and dig up evidence to clear Uncle Phil, or we’d shoot!”

“Yes,” sighed Ned, “we might do that. But the chances of our getting on a battleship are about a thousand to one.”

If he had only known what was coming!

After supper the boys had another talk with their uncle, and he showed them some of the legal papers that had been served on him that day just before they came in out of the rain.

“How long before you may be confined?” asked Frank.

“Three days,” was the answer. “But I’m going to try and stave it off.”

It was a vain attempt, however. Three days later, when the storm had cleared, the boys came in from a fishing trip and found Mrs. Brun weeping, and the servants very much upset.

“What has happened?” demanded Frank of the housekeeper.

“Your dear – uncle – they came and took him away,” she sobbed.

“Took him away! Who?”

“I don’t know. But he told me to tell you he was under arrest, and that you would understand.”

“Under arrest!” exclaimed Frank, and as Ned echoed the words the brothers looked apprehensively at each other.

CHAPTER IV – SHIFTING FOR THEMSELVES

Gradually, from the very much upset housekeeper and from the servants, Ned and Frank obtained an account of what had happened. Their uncle, who had been busily engaged in the intervening days in trying to straighten matters out, had arrived from New York in the early afternoon.

He had been busy in the library over papers and documents, when two strangers called and spent some time with him. There were loud words, the housekeeper said, and then Mr. Arden had come out, accompanied by the two men.

“He told me to tell you,” Mrs. Brun said, “that they were taking him to Atlanta.”

“Atlanta!” exclaimed Ned.

“There is a federal prison there,” said Frank. “Well, what happened next?” he asked the housekeeper.

“Your uncle begged and pleaded for time, saying he wanted to see you, and tell you of certain matters. But the men – they must have been detectives I guess – ”

“Probably secret service men,” interrupted Frank. “But go on, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Brun.”

“They took him away,” said the housekeeper. “That’s all there was to it. They said there was a train they could get from New York to-night, and they hurried off. Your uncle only had time to pack a suit case of clothes, and they took him away. And what’s to become of all of us, or who’s to look after things, I don’t know!” she sobbed.

“Well, there’s no use worrying,” said Frank. “I’ll go to see Mr. Thursby. He’s a lawyer, and Uncle Phil has consulted him on some matters. He can tell us what to do. If worst comes to worst we’ll let this house, get rent for it, and shift for ourselves. You can easily get a place,” he said to the housekeeper, “and so can the other servants, probably.”

“Oh, yes. It isn’t about that I’m worrying,” she announced, drying her eyes; “it’s you poor boys! What will you do without a home?”

“Without a home?” exclaimed Ned. “Why, won’t we have this place?”

“Oh, no, Ned, dear!” cried Mrs. Brun, who was very like a mother to the boys. “Your uncle said this house was attached also, and that you couldn’t stay here. I don’t know what you are going to do. You can’t rent it and use the money, either.”

“Well, we’ll just have to shift for ourselves, that’s all,” said Frank, with assumed cheerfulness. “It might be worse! We’ll make out somehow, eh, Ned?”

“Oh, I guess. But say, this is sudden, all right!”

“Sudden isn’t any name for it,” commented Frank. “I wonder what we had really better do? I’ll have a talk with the lawyer.”

“Do you imagine we can stay here to-night?” asked Ned.

“I don’t see why not,” his brother answered. “At least I don’t see any one around to put us out.”

“It won’t be as sudden as that,” Mrs. Brun informed them. “Your uncle said it would be a week before you would have to leave here, and perhaps not then, if he could get matters straightened out.”

“Well, then let’s have supper,” proposed Ned. “The secret service men didn’t take away all the victuals, did they?”

“Oh, no; there’s plenty to eat,” the housekeeper said. “That is, if any one has the heart to eat.”

“Well, I feel bad enough about uncle’s trouble, as far as that goes,” observed Frank, “but there’s no use in starving. Besides, we must keep up our strength. There’ll be plenty to do from now on.”

“I’m with you!” agreed his brother. “I don’t know just what we can do, but we’ll do our best, anyhow.”

The household was upset, naturally, but Mrs. Brun managed to put a meal on the table. In the evening the two boys went to see the local lawyer.