ANDY BLAKE'S SECRET SERVICE

Front matter

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BY .

LEO EDWARDS

Contents

Anpy’s CoNTINUED SUCCESS A StrRANGE DISAPPEARANCE .

Eppige GARRY .

THE Two Cousins .

CHAPTER I ANDY’S CONTINUED SUCCESS ANDY BLAKE was in a particularly jubilant mood

For earlier in the day, as sales promotion manager of the Boy Products Company, manufacturers of coaster wagons and similar juvenile products, it had been his privilege to turn over to the order department one of the largest coaster-wagon contracts yet received is the grow- _ ing young business.

And now it was swimming time!

Merchandising was Andy’s chosen work. Big indeed had been his youthful dreams. And at times, as he looked back, it seemed almost unbelievable to him that he had made such marked progress in so short a time. Three years ago, at the age of seventeen, as recorded in the initial volume of this series, he had been a delivery clerk in a small-town general store—an inexperi- 1

2 ANDY BLAKE’S SECRET SERVICE enced lad in his final year of high school. And now he was a merchandising executive!

Hard work had done it—consistent hard work coupled with good judgment and an open studious mind. Nor is it to be construed from Andy’s marked success that his way had been made easy for him. No, indeed. A poor boy, with limited schooling, yet possessed of dauntless determination and unbounded ambition, he had been forced to make his own way.

And how he had enjoyed it! Forgotten now were the early blunders that he had made, so bitter and humiliating to him at the time. He thought only of what lay ahead of him. Advertising Andy! That is what the Cressfield boys had laughingly called him when he worked on the delivery wagon. But now these same early companions spoke of him with more respect. For it was generally conceded throughout the home town that Andy was fast making a mark for himself in the business world. His friends were very proud of him.

As a youth he had stood without the great gates of Industry, as pictured in the advertising pages of national magazines, eagerly looking in. Motor cars! Machinery! Food! Clothing! Such, in composite form, was Industry. He had longed to be a part of it. And now, as a young business man of rare promise, he was a part of it. But by no means had his dream been realized. The higher he climbed on the rungs of merchandising success, the higher he wanted to climb. Ambition was a spur to still greater achievement.

Which might make it appear to some that Andy’s life was wholly made up of staid advertising procedures and business responsibilities. But such was not the case. When the day’s work

»was done he loved his fun, the same as any normal-minded boy. And it was to his credit that he sought the kind of fun that matched his years.

For the past eight or ten months his chief companion, outside of business hours, had been a wealthy boy by the name of Rodney Chadwick, whose parents had sensibly encouraged the growing intimacy between the two young men. Character meant a great deal more to Mr. Charles Chadwick, president of the Rainbow Tire Company, Manton’s foremost industry, than mere social standing. And Mrs. Chadwick, kindly gracious lady that she was, had been as quick as her more experienced husband to recognize the fine qualities in the young advertising specialist. They jointly felt that Andy, with his big advertising and merchandising dreams, would be a steadying influence in their son’s life. And it was pleasing to them, moreover, to have a young man of such gentlemanly deportment in the family circle.

On this particular June afternoon (and what normal-minded boy isn’t attracted to the water in June!) Rodney had promised to be on hand at five o’clock with his new high-powered road- ~ ster, after which it was the plan of the two inseparable chums to speed away to one of the many natural swimming pools that the friendly river provided. Enterprising community that it was, Manton, of course, had its supervised bath-» ing pools as a part of its park system. But the two boys preferred the open stream, where, in certain secluded spots of recent discovery, hampering woolen bathing suits were not always necessary. Then, too, they enjoyed being by themselves. For they found keen delight in each other’s society.

A tall, light-haired stenographer brought Andy a handful of letters for his departmental signature. And hurrying with his final duty, he quickly left the stuffy office, with its clicking typewriters and general bustle, so characteristic of each day’s close, when he caught the sound of a familiar automobile horn.

Rodney was watching the office door.

“Hi,” he cried, his face lighting up, when Andy came briskly into sight in the cindered factory court.

It is doubtful if the bareheaded young driver realized the pleasing picture he made as he sat at the steering wheel of his natty green roadster, the nickeled trimmings of which glistened in the afternoon sunlight like a collection of rare gems. On the way here the wind had played havoc with his black hair, which now stood up in ripples and ringlets all over his boyish head. The open throat of his spotless sport shirt gave him an added touch of sheer boyishness. Small wonder indeed that his father and mother idolized him. For he was a son to be proud of. And it was to his credit that his parents’ attentions had not spoiled him.

Andy, too, natty and neat in his trim business suit and well-groomed footwear, was bareheaded. But the wind having had no chance as yet to muss up his curly hair, he seemed a bit less boyish than his companion and more mature. His round ruddy face, though, with its dancing brown eyes, betrayed his true age. Two boys were they at heart, each appreciative of the other’s manly qualities; boys who achieved to be men of the highest type. Truly an ideal comradeship, the only discontenting factor of which was the possibility of later separation.

The roadster’s young owner stiffened in pretended indignation when the newcomer, after a word or two ot warm greeting, swung his long legs over the low door.

“Say! How do you get that way?”

“What's the matter?” grinned Andy, sinking into the luxurious cushions.

6 ANDY BLAKE’S SECRET SERVICE “Hurdler!”

“T always climbed over the door of Denny Landers’ car,” Andy further grinned, referring to his early job on the delivery wagon.

Rodney was well informed on his chum’s early advertising activities.

“This is no truck,” he grunted, putting the sleek-lined roadster into velvety motion.

“Well,” was Andy’s complacent rejoinder, as he further settled himself in comfort, ‘‘it looks as good as a truck to me.”

““You’re hopeless.”

“Say, Rod, have you got a chocolate bar parked in your clothes? I’m as hungry as a bear.”’

“You shouldn’t eat before you go in swimming.”

““Bu-lieve me, kid,” Andy’s thoughts returned to his work, as was frequently the case when the two were together, “plenty of things happened around the old joint this P.M. to stir up my-appetite.”

‘Somebody order a coaster wagon?” Rodney inquired cheerfully, as the roadster further gained speed, a cloud of dust arising behind it like a misshapen genie.

“Huh! You should have seen the order that we got from New York City. Seven thousand coasters.”

“Do they know you?”

“Who raed

“The people who gave you the order.”

“I should hope to snicker. For I called on them in person last month. I didn’t get much encouragement, though. Never having dealt with us, they seemed skeptical of our product. So, was I ever elaborately teakettled when their order came in? Which proves, old kid, that quality is the deciding factor after all.”

“What did they do?” laughed Rodney. ‘Take one of your Comet Coasters apart, piece by piece, thus comparing it with other coasters?”

“That is what I asked them to do,” Andy nodded. ‘For I had a hunch that they discounted a great deal of my selling talk. ‘Oh, he’s a boy,’ was the thought that I read in their minds. ‘We can’t depend on him.’ ”

The lure of spring was in the air. Both boys felt it. And though they made no mention of it, as is the nature of youth, the beauty of the countryside, with its emerald carpets and lush foliage, filled them with pleasing contentment.

“Want to drive?’’ Rodney spoke generously, as they left the flats of the valley and entered a road that wound here and there among the wooded hills.

“No, thanks,” Andy spoke lazily.

“T suppose you'll be buying a car of your own one of these days,’ was Rodney’s natural comment.

“Not this year,” Andy spoke earnestly. “For I’m paying for a home.”

“Where ?”

“In Cressfield.. At my suggestion Mother traded in our old house in Channery Court toward a modern bungalow. And I’m paying the difference.”

“I’ve often wondered why your mother never moved to Manton,” Rodney continued the intimate conversation.

“She’s bound to Cressfield by many close ties, Rod. It was there that she spent the most of her married life; and it was there that my father was buried. Besides,’ and here Andy disguised the real thought in his mind, “I haven’t a life’s contract with the Boy Products Company. I stand in with them to-day. But to-morrow they may replace me with an older and more experienced man at the business.” '

‘As though I’d believe that,’ scoffed the driver.

“Tt’s a possibility, Rod.”

“But I thought you had stock in the company?”

‘tl thave-”

And Andy told in detail how the twenty shares of common stock, now worth one hundred and ten dollars a share, had been given to him as a bonus by old Mr. Warman, whose grandson,

George Warman, the heaviest stockholder, was now in charge of the business.

As has been recorded in the preceding volume of this series, Andy, then associated with the Rollins and Hatch advertising agency of Chicago, had launched an ill-advised carriage-marketing campaign. It was soon learned, however, that there was no market for carriages. Either the old carriage company had to completely dissolve; or adopt a new line.

When Andy suggested coaster wagons, Mr. Warman quickly picked up the idea, agreeing to finance the proposed new company if the young advertising specialist would consent to locate in Manton and take charge of the merchandising, the aged manufacturer having reached the age where he wanted to “‘go fishing,” as he expressed it, leaving the business in the capable hands of his grandson.

After the way in which he had bungled the carriage campaign—thanks to the trickery of a junior partner !—it never had occurred to Andy for a single instant that anybody connected with the old carriage company, least of all its wealthy owner, would tender him a job. But he was glad to learn that the manufacturer still had confidence in him. And wanting to correct his blunder, as best he could, he had gratefully accepted their offer.

So the new company had been organized, with a paid-in capital of twenty-five thousand dollars. Less than twenty years old himself, George Warman had picked another young man (Harry Harnden) to head the accounting department, and still another (Tim Dine) to run the factory. So, with Andy at the head of the merchandising department, it was truly a company of boys engaged in the manufacture of products for boys. There had been times when disaster threatened the struggling concern. But the young executives under George’s gritty leadership had battled against all obstacles, even patent litigation. And now it was generally conceded in Manton business circles that the ultimate success of the company was assured.

Brusque in speech and manner, even rough at times so aggressive was he by nature, the young president praised his capable advertising assistant on all sides, rightly crediting Andy with a leading part in the company’s success. Rodney knew this. Which explains why he had refused to take Andy seriously when the latter spoke of the uncertainty of his present position.

It was far more probable, the Manton boy struck at the truth of the matter, that the restless young advertising executive was beginning to tire of his present work. For the new company’s biggest merchandising problems had been solved. And having performed his work here, what more natural than that Andy should want to return to the city?

“Does George Warman know?” Rodney finally spoke up.

“Know what?”

“That you’re going to quit?”

It was now Andy’s turn to be silent.

““How did you guess it, Rod?”

“Oh,” the word was spoken with peculiar fervor, “I know you, Andy. ... Gee! I hate to think of you going away. What’s the matter, anyway?—isn’t your present job big enough for you?”

There was an uneasy laugh.

“T guess I’m like my father, Rod.”

“What do you mean?”

“T like to tackle new problems and assume new responsibilities.”

“But you told me yourself that your father never accumulated anything.” —

Which was true, as Andy made no attempt to deny.

“Dad was tied down to Cressfield, Rod. And there’s nothing much for a fellow in a small town-——I soon found that out.”

“But you’ve got a good job, Andy.”

“I know it,’ came the reflective admission. “But I’m young. And there are bigger jobs to be had.”

Rodney was struck by a sudden happy thought.

“Flow would you like to work for Dad?”

“No, Rod,” Andy slowly shook his head. “I want to go back to the city.”

“To work for Mr. Rollins?”

“T have a job waiting for me there whenever I choose to accept it. Then, too, old man, you must remember that it never was my intention to stay here indefinitely. I’ve told you that right along.”

Yes,” Rodney spoke in a doleful voice. “I know. But I’ve been hoping that you’d change your mind. For you're the best pal I ever had, Andy.”

“Thanks, Rod.”

“A lot of fellows hang around me because I have a car and money. As though I don’t know it! But I never had that feeling about you.”

“What a fellow is at heart means a whole lot more to me than what he has in his pockets,” Andy spoke sensibly; then added reminiscently: “Did I ever tell you about Clarence Corey? I used to hate him when I lived in Cressfield. Not so much because he was rich, but because of his bossy arrogant ways. Somehow I got the idea that all rich kids were like him. So, as you can imagine, it was a real treat to me when I met you.”

‘Dad says that riches are a responsibility. He could build a million-dollar palace, if he wanted to, and live accordingly. But instead, he prefers to put his major earnings back into the business, so that still more men can find employment there at good wages. Which, J think, is the right idea.”’

“You and your dad are friends worth hav- - ing, Rod.”

‘“‘That’s what we think about you.”

Andy was human.

“Does your dad really care for me, Rod?”

“You should know that he does,” the other boy spoke simply. ‘And Mother, too.”

Then both boys lapsed into silence.

The brakes squealed as the car swung down a winding hill. And there in front of them, visible through the trees that lined its banks, was the river. Opening a gate, they followed a rutted wood-lot road with its bordering wild flowers to a sheltered cove where for more than thirty minutes they splashed in the water with the abandon of ten-year-olds. Then, dressing, they took a different route back to town where Mrs. Chadwick had supper waiting for them.

“What do you know about it, Dad,” Rodney disconsolately addressed his father later in the evening, the two boys having separated for the night. ‘‘Andy’s going to quit.”

Mr. Chadwick was engaged with some business papers at the big library table.

‘“‘What seems to be the trouble?” the financier glanced up from his work.

“Oh, he thinks he can get a better job in the city.”

“Considering his age, I would say that he has a very good job where he is. Not many young men of twenty are as well situated.”

“That’s exactly what I tell him. He has stock in the company, too. You see, when the new company was organized Mr. Warman, after giving George one hundred and ninety shares, set aside sixty shares, which were to be divided among Andy, Harry Harnden and Tim Dine in case the company succeeded. They did fine the first year, as you know. And on top of distributing the bonus stock, a dividend of ten per cent was declared on the total stock, which netted Andy another two hundred dollars. J think he’s lucky, Dad. And I further think he ought to content himself where he is. For he’s got a good job. And Manton is a good town. So what more can he ask for?”

There was pride in the manufacturer’s eyes.

“You're right, Rodney. Manton is a good town. I know of none better in the whole state. And I’m glad to learn that you have the same feeling toward it that I have. According to my notion too many boys respond to the somewhat theatrical lure of the great cities. As a matter of fact, the smaller towns contain more real opportunities in proportion to the population than the larger places. I’ve found that to be true. And certainly we have need of bright boys like you and Andy in the smaller centers. I hope we can keep him here. And it isn’t improbable that I will broach the subject to him if the opportunity presents itself.”

Rodney’s eyes were noticeably happier in their expression.

“He'll listen to you, Dad. For he thinks you’re the cat’s elbows.”

“My word! The cat’s elbows! What do you mean?”

‘To-morrow noon,” planned the laughing son, “Tl bring him home to lunch. And then you can talk to him.”

“Andy is a very promising boy,” the manufacturer further contributed to the conversation. “He has good judgment for one of his years; and he backs this up with tremendous ambition. I’m wondering, though, if his somewhat unusual success isn’t liable to work him harm in the end. We should all be conscious of our limitations. -Yet he seems to feel that his capacities are boundless.”

Rodney spoke eagerly.

“You tell him, Dad. As I say, he’ll listen to you.”

Again that humorous expression crossed the financier’s face.

“The cat’s elbows! I fancy that I shall have various things to discuss with this restless young friend of yours at the lunch table to-morrow noon.”

Rodney slipped an arm around his father’s neck.

“You’re bully, Dad. I wish that Andy had a father like you.” .

It was a sultry evening. And to invite the fragrant evening air, as it first caressed the lush foliage in the surrounding garden, the room’s windows had been thrown open. But neither the manufacturer or his son suspected at the moment that their words had fallen upon a pair of outside ears.

A strange chapter having opened in his young life, without a moment’s warning, Andy Blake, dazed and bewildered by the dramatic turn of his personal affairs, had come here to say good-by to his beloved chum.

But later the shadowy figure left the fragrant garden as quietly and as stealthily as it had come. And thus did Andy drop out of the lives of those who knew and loved him.

CHAPTER IT A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE

Nor until the following noon was the alarm spread throughout the coaster-wagon factory that the company’s popular young advertising manager had mysteriously disappeared.

George Warman was the first one in the organization to discover that the advertising executive wasn’t at his desk. It was odd, the young president thought, that the important department head should elect to spend the morning in his room without sending some word to the office in explanation of his absence. Was he ill? At nine-thirty George telephoned to the Y.M.C.A. where Andy roomed. Later Harnden was summoned to the president’s private office.

“Say, Harry,” came the terse inquiry, “how are Blake’s departmental accounts?”

“In excellent shape, so far as I know to the contrary.”

“T wish you’d check up on things in his department. See if you can find any reason why he should want to disappear.”

“Disappear?” the accountant repeated, anxiW)

iously searching the other’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

“It is the report of the desk clerk at the Y.M.C.A. that Blake has suddenly left town.”

Harnden leaned forward.

“And you suspect irregularities in his accounts?”

George vigorously shook his head.

“Not at all. As a matter of fact, I’d trust that boy with the company’s last dollar. For I know—and you, too, for that matter—that he’s absolutely on the square. But when the news of his strange disappearance gets noised around town, people are going to talk—those local wiseacres, I mean, who think that boys are duds—or even worse. You know how they’ve been talking about us, predicting that each month would see our finish. Boy managers! And boy salesmen! Particularly have these old mossbacks maintained that Andy was riding for a fall. And how lovely for them now to start the report that he skinned out with a big wad of the company’s money. It’s up to us to forestall any such damaging lies. So get.me the facts, Harry. In the meantime I'll wire Blake’s mother and Mr. Rollins, hoping that one or the other of them will be able to clear up the mystery.”

Neither spoke for a moment.

Harnden was not of the emotional type. Few bookkeepers are. For as a rule the handling of

A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE 19 prosaic figures gives one a decidedly matter-offact view of life.

“Instead of jumping to the conclusion that Blake has skinned out,” the accountant spoke sensibly, ‘‘I’d sooner think he’s on the track of another big order.”

“But why didn’t he telephone to us before leaving town?”

“Maybe he left in the middle of the night while we were asleep.”

“It is suspected,” George’s earnestness deepened, “that he did leave town in the middle of the night. At ten-thirty he went up to his room, stopping at the registration desk for his key, where, in his usual jolly style, he joked with the clerk. It is known that he entertained a visitor in his room between ten-thirty and eleven o'clock. And here is where the mystery begins—for the visitor so completely escaped observation as to lead to the theory that he entered and left the room by way of the fire escape.”

“Did the desk clerk tell you that?”

seg”

“And he knows for certain that there was a visitor in Andy’s room at the time specified?”

“Two voices were heard in the room.”

“By whom?”

“One of the other lodgers.”

“Did this lodger get the drift of the conversation?”

“Tt’s his statement, as passed along to me by the desk clerk, that Andy and his visitor talked in low tense tones.”

“And is it further presumed that Andy accompanied his mysterious visitor down the fire escape?”

Ves,”

“But nobody actually saw him leave the building ?”

SINIOgs

“Did anyone see him after he entered his room?”

George then got Rodney Chadwick on the telephone. But instead of helping to clear up the mystery, the Manton boy was literally dumbfounded when told that his chum had disappeared over night. Throughout the balance of the day Rodney haunted the room that the missing one had so strangely vacated, hoping to pick up a clew of some sort that would aid in the mystery’s solution. A brief note (evidently written in great haste or under conditions of extraordinary excitement) had been found on the dresser, requesting that the room’s contents be kept intact until their owner returned—and a check attached to the note paid the room rent many weeks in advance.

Rodney in time enlisted the aid of the local police. For he began to suspect foul play. But

A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE ar the police scoffed at this theory, giving as their collective opinion that the popular young advertising man had disappeared voluntarily. Something had turned up on a moment’s notice to make him want to disappear; and he had acted accordingly. The fact that he was holding his room (with its closetful of clothing) proved that he intended to return.

The police having dropped the case, Rodney motored to Cressfield to question the vanished one’s mother. And this being his first visit to his chum’s birthplace, he experienced peculiar emotions as landmarks that had been described to him so vividly now came to his attention. There on opposite sides of the rather shabby main street were the Landers and Hazzel stores. And there in the next block, facing the small park, where a weathered fountain functioned dispiritedly, was the printing office in the back of which, in a small room used principally by the printer’s son, the delivery clerk and his enthusiastic chums had worked out those early advertising campaigns.

Ouija boards! Aunt Tillie’s Taffy Tarts! Fresh-roasted coffee! Hot-cross buns! Rodney had heard the details of these exciting campaigns many times. And now his memory of the campaigns seemed particularly vivid.

But no one in Cressfield knew where Andy Blake was. And when Rodney finally located the new bungalow on Walnut Street he found it locked and deserted. Mrs. Blake, the next-door neighbor freely told the disturbed investigator, was spending the summer with relatives in Ontario, Canada.

This caused Rodney further thought.

Was Andy, too, in Ontario? Rodney wondered. Plainly, was his conclusion, some strange disaster had befallen the little family. As though drawn by an invisible magnet he turned in at the white arched gateway of the roadside cemetery where Andy’s father had been buried. Little did the visitor dream, though, as he stood beside the low mound, how very close he was to the truth of his chum’s disappearance. Afterwards he recalled that trip to the cemetery with its peculiar accompanying emotions. And he marveled at his stupidity.

Andy had made it appear that he was dissatisfied with his present position. He had spoken of going to the city. Could it be, Rodney asked himself, as again and again he turned over in his mind the events of that memorable afternoon, trying to attach a hidden meaning to his friend’s words, that the young advertising man had known that sooner or later he would have to change locations? Then, had some unexpected premature development sent him flying into the north with his peculiar secret?

But who was the mysterious visitor? And

A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE — 23 how had the pair left town? Further, had Mrs. Blake joined them in their flight into Canada? Or had she followed them north?

Rodney seemed unable to dismiss from his mind the thought that the chum he had loved and trusted had failed him. And distressed by the marked change in their son, over whom a noticeable sadness and depression had settled, like a leaden blanket, Mr. and Mrs. Chadwick decided to spend the balance of the summer in Italy, hopeful that a change of scene would bring forgetfulness. But Rodney, loyal pal that he was, refused point-blank to go abroad. A motor trip into Ontario would be much more to his liking, he said. So the family car was made ready; the big house was closed for the summer; and the family of three set forth on their journey.

At the coaster-wagon factory the missing one’s work was carried on by his assistant, a brighteyed, capable girl. And things went well with the company as a whole, for Andy had planned his work with great care and foresight. But the conferences in the president’s office seemed incomplete and spiritless without the ruddy, glowing face that the others had come to know so well.

Each morning George Warman eagerly searched the incoming mail for some word from the missing executive whose position was being held open for him. But no word was received, the mystery seemingly deepening with each successive day.

“T’m going to hire a private detective,” George thus disclosed his plans to Harnden one morning in early July. ‘For Vil never rest easy until I know what became of that kid. If you must know the truth, Harry, I feel lost without him. I’m never satisfied that we're making the most of our opportunities. We need him. And I’m going to try and find him and bring him back to his desk. Or if harm has befallen him, as I sometimes think, the sooner we learn the truth of the matter the better for us.”’

And now, as our story takes us into the adjoining state of Indiana, new characters step into the foreground, chief among them a boy by the name of Eddie Garry, through whom we will learn the truth about the unusual mission—the peculiar secret service—that was intrusted to Andy the night he disappeared.

Had not an adverse Fate interfered with his secret affairs, the perturbed young advertising man might have returned to Manton within a week. But, as his business associates had begun to suspect, a strange misfortune had befallen him, as will be revealed through the following chapters. And just as he had schemed to move secretly in the background, to the full accomplishment of his purpose, he involuntarily became a part of the story’s background.

HE HATED THE MONOTONY OF TRAMPING AROUND AND AROUND A FIELD.

Andy Blake's Secret Service. Page 25

Chapter III Eddie Garry

_ Even before Eddie Garry came quietly into the hot farmhouse kitchen for dinner he knew that his aunt and uncle had received some unusual word through the morning mail. For he had seen the rural mail carrier stop at the roadside mail box. And later on he had seen his excitable aunt fly to the barn with a fluttering paper in her hand, obviously in quest of her husband. |