Alger Horatio Jr.
Helping Himself; Or, Grant Thornton's Ambition
CHAPTER XIX – IMPORTANT EVIDENCE
Mr. Reynolds looked rather surprised when Grant appeared, drawing the telegraph boy after him.
“This boy has got something to tell you about Mr. Ford,” said Grant, breathless with excitement.
“About Mr. Ford?” repeated the broker. “What do you know about Willis Ford?”
“I don’t know his name,” replied Johnny. “It’s the chap that just went out of the house.”
“It was Mr. Ford,” explained Grant.
“Tell me what you know about him,” said the broker, encouragingly.
“I seed him in the Grand Central Hotel, givin’ some bond to a flashy-lookin’ man. There was a boy wid him, a big boy.”
“With whom—Mr. Ford?”
“No, wid the other chap.”
“I know who he means, sir,” said Grant. “It was Tom Calder.”
“And the man?”
“Was Jim Morrison, the same man that gave me the bonds to sell.”
“That seems important,” said Mr. Reynolds. “I did not believe Ford capable of such rascality.”
“He had as good a chance to take the bonds as I, sir. He was here last evening.”
“Was he?” asked the broker, quickly. “I did not know that.”
“He was here for an hour at least. I saw him come in and go out.”
Mr. Reynolds asked several more questions of the telegraph boy, and enjoined him to silence.
“My boy,” he said, “come here to-morrow evening at half-past seven. I may want you.”
“I will, sir, if I can get away. I shall be on duty.”
“Say to the telegraph company that I have an errand for you. Your time will be paid for.”
“That will make it all right, sir.”
“And, meanwhile, here is a dollar for your own use.”
Johnny’s eyes sparkled, for with his limited earnings this sum would come in very handy. He turned away, nearly forgetting the original errand that brought him to the house, but luckily it occurred in time. The nature of it has nothing to do with this story.
When Johnny had gone, Mr. Reynolds said: “Grant, I need not caution you not to breathe a word of this. I begin to think that there is a conspiracy against you; but whether Willis Ford is alone in it, or has a confederate I cannot decide. My housekeeper does not appear to like you.”
“No, sir, I am sorry to say she does not; but I don’t think she is in this plot. I think she honestly believes that I stole her bonds.”
“I have too great confidence in you to believe it. I own I was a little shaken when the key was found. You have no idea how it came in your pocket, I suppose?”
“No, sir, I can’t guess. I might suspect Mr. Ford of putting it there, but I can’t see how he managed it.”
“Well, we will let matters take their course. You will go to work as usual, and not speak a word of what has happened this evening.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Meanwhile, we must follow Willis Ford. When he left the house, he was by no means in a comfortable frame of mind. He felt that it was absolutely necessary to see Jim Morrison, and have an understanding with him. What arrangements he could make with him, or how he could reconcile him to the loss of the money which he had expected to receive from the sale of the bonds, he could not yet imagine. Perhaps he would be willing to receive the other four bonds in part payment. In that case Willis himself would not profit as much as he had hoped from the theft; but there seemed no alternative. He had got himself into a scrape, and he must get out of it the best way possible.
Though he did not know where to find Morrison, he thought it likely that he might be seen at the White Elephant, a large and showy billiard room on Broadway, near Thirtieth Street. There were several gambling houses near by, and there or in that neighborhood he thought that Morrison might be met.
He was right. On entering the billiard room he found the man he sought playing a game of billiards with Tom Calder, at the first table.
“I want to see you, Morrison,” he said, in a low voice. “Is the game ‘most finished?”
“I have only six points more to make. I shall probably run out this time.”
He was right in his estimate. Two minutes later the two went out of the saloon together, accompanied by Tom.
“Well, what is it?” he asked.
“Let us turn into a side street.”
They turned into Thirtieth Street, which was much less brilliantly lighted than Broadway, and sauntered leisurely along.
“Did you buy the bonds of that boy?” asked Morrison, anxiously.
“Yes.”
“Then it’s all right. Have you brought me the money?”
“How should I?” returned Ford, impatiently. “I couldn’t pay him, and keep the money myself.”
“Oh, well, it doesn’t matter. He is to meet me to-morrow morning and hand over the money.”
“I am afraid you will be disappointed.” “Disappointed,” repeated Morrison, quickly. “What do you mean? The boy hasn’t made off with the money, has he? If he has–” and the sentence ended with an oath.
“No, it isn’t as you suppose.”
“Then why won’t he pay me the money, I’d like to know?”
“There is some trouble about the bonds. It is charged that they are stolen.”
“How is that? You gave them to me,” said Morrison, suspiciously.
Now came the awkward moment. However, Ford had decided on the story he would tell.
“They were given me by a person who owed me money,” he said, plausibly. “How was I to know they were stolen?”
“They were stolen, then?”
“I suppose so. In fact, I know so.”
“How do you know?”
“Well—in fact, they were stolen from my stepmother.”
Morrison whistled.
“Well,” he said.
“Of course you mustn’t say that I gave them to you. You would get me into trouble.”
“So you want to save yourself at my expense? I am to be suspected of stealing the bonds, am I? That’s a decidedly cool proposal, but it won’t do. I shall clear myself, by telling just where I got the bonds.”
“That’s what I want you to do.”
“You do!” ejaculated the gambler, in surprise.
“Yes. You are to say that the boy gave them to you.”
“Why should I say that?”
“Because he is already suspected of stealing the bonds.”
“But I gave them to him to sell.”
“You mustn’t admit it. There is no proof of it except his word.”
“What’s your game? Whatever it is, it is too deep for me.”
“I’ve got it all arranged. You are to say that the boy owed you a gambling debt, and agreed to meet you to-morrow morning to pay it. Of the bonds, you are to know nothing, unless you say that he told you he had some which he was going to sell, in order to get money to pay you.”
“What advantage am I to get out of all this?”
“What advantage? Why, you will save yourself from suspicion.”
“That isn’t enough. I didn’t take the bonds, and you know it. I believe you did it yourself.”
“Hush!” said Willis Ford, looking around him nervously.
“Look here, Ford, I gave up your I O U, and now I find I’ve got to whistle for my money.”
“Go with me to my room, and you shall have four hundred dollars to-night.”
“In cash?”
“No; in bonds.”
“Some more of the same kind? No, thank you, I want ready money.”
“Then give me a little more time, and I will dispose of them—when this excitement blows over.”
Finally Morrison gave a sulky assent, and the conspirators parted.
CHAPTER XX – AT THE FIFTH AVENUE HOTEL
“If I thought he was playing me false,” said Jim Morrison, after Ford and himself had parted company, “I’d make him smart for it.”
“I guess it’s all right,” said Tom, who was less experienced and less suspicious than his companion.
“It may be so, but I have my suspicions. I don’t trust Willis Ford.”
“Shall you go round to the Fifth Avenue Hotel to meet Grant to-morrow morning.”
“Of course I shall. I want to see what the boy says. It may be a put-up job between him and Ford.”
The very same question was put by Grant to Mr. Reynolds.
“Shall I go round to the hotel to-morrow morning to see Morrison and Tom Calder?”
The broker paused a moment and looked thoughtful.
“Yes,” he answered, after a pause. “You may.”
“And what shall I say when he demands the money?”
Upon this Mr. Reynolds gave Grant full instructions as to what he desired him to say.
About quarter after eight o’clock the next morning a quiet-looking man, who looked like a respectable bookkeeper entered the Fifth Avenue Hotel and walked through the corridor, glancing, as it seemed, indifferently, to the right and left. Finally he reached the door of the reading room and entered. His face brightened as at the further end he saw two persons occupying adjoining seats. They were, in fact, Morrison and Tom Calder.
The newcomer selected a Boston daily paper, and, as it seemed, by chance, settled himself in a seat not six feet away from our two acquaintances, so that he could, without much effort, listen to their conversation.
“It’s almost time for Grant to come,” said Tom, after a pause.
“Yes,” grumbled Morrison, “but as he won’t have any money for me, I don’t feel as anxious as I should otherwise.”
“What’ll you say to him?”
“I don’t know yet. I want to find out whether Ford has told the truth about the bonds. I believe he stole ‘em himself.”
Five minutes later Grant entered the reading-room. A quick glance showed him, not only the two he had come to meet, but the quiet, little man who was apparently absorbed in a copy of the Boston Journal. He went up at once to meet them.
“I believe I am in time,” he said.
“Yes,” answered Jim Morrison. “Have you brought the money?”
“No.”
“Why not?” demanded Morrison, with a frown.
“There was something wrong about the bonds you gave me to sell.”
“Weren’t they all right? They weren’t counterfeit, were they?”
“They were genuine, but–”
“But what?”
“A lady claims that they belong to her—that they were stolen from her. Of course you can explain how they came into your hands?”
“They were given me by a party that owed me money. If he’s played a trick on me, it will be the worse for him. Did you sell them?”
“Yes.”
“Then give me the money.”
“Mr. Reynolds won’t let me.”
“Does he think I took the bonds?” asked Morrison, hastily.
“No, he doesn’t,” answered Grant, proudly, “but he would like to have an interview with you, and make some inquiries, so that he may form some idea as to the person who did take them. They belonged to his housekeeper, Mrs. Estabrook, who is the stepmother of Mr. Ford, a young man employed in our office.”
Tom Calder and Jim Morrison exchanged glances. Grant’s story agreed with Ford’s, and tended to confirm their confidence in his good faith.
“When does he want to see me?” asked Morrison.
“Can you call at his house this evening at eight o’clock?”
“Where does he live?”
Grant mentioned the street and number.
“I will be there,” he said, briefly.
“Can I come, too?” asked Tom Calder, addressing the question to Grant.
“There will be no objection, I think.”
“Tell him we’ll be on hand.”
The three left the hotel together, Grant taking a Broadway stage at the door. The quiet man seemed no longer interested in the Boston Journal, for he hung it up in its place, and sauntered out of the hotel. He had not attracted the attention of Jim Morrison or Tom.
When Grant entered the office, and with his usual manner asked Ford if he should go to the post-office, the young man eyed him curiously.
“Are you to remain in the office?” he said.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“After what you have done?”
“What have I done, Mr. Ford?” asked Grant, eyeing the young man, steadily.
“I don’t think you need to have me tell you,” he said, with a sneer. “I don’t think Mr. Reynolds is very prudent to employ a boy convicted of dishonesty.”
“Do you believe me guilty, Mr. Ford?” asked our hero, calmly.
“The evidence against you is overwhelming. My mother ought to have you arrested.”
“The person who stole the bonds may be arrested.”
“What do you mean?” asked Willis Ford, flushing, and looking disconcerted.
“I mean that I have no concern in the matter. Shall I go to the post-office?”
“Yes,” snapped Ford, “and take care you don’t steal any of the letters.”
Grant did not reply. He knew that his vindication was certain, and he was willing to wait.
If Willis Ford had been prudent he would have dropped the matter there, but his hatred of Grant was too great to be easily concealed. When a few minutes later the broker entered the office and inquired, “Where is Grant?” Ford, after answering, “he has gone to the post-office,” could not help saying, “Are you going to keep that boy, Mr. Reynolds?”
“Why should I not?” the broker replied.
“I thought a boy in his position ought to be honest.”
“I agree with you, Mr. Ford,” said the broker, quietly.
“After taking my mother’s bonds, that can hardly be said of Grant Thornton.”
“You seem to be sure he did take them, Mr. Ford.”
“The discovery of the key settled that to my mind.”
“Grant says he has no knowledge of the key.”
Ford laughed scornfully.
“Of course he would say so,” he replied.
“I propose to investigate the matter further,” said the broker. “Can you make it convenient to call at my house this evening? Possibly something may be discovered by that time.”
“Yes, sir; I will come, with pleasure. I have no feeling in regard to the boy, except that I don’t think it safe to employ him in a business like yours.”
“I agree with you, Mr. Ford. One who is capable of stealing bonds from a private house is unfit to be employed in an office like mine.”
“Yet you retain the boy, sir?”
“For the present. It is not fair to assume that he is guilty till we have demonstrated it beyond a doubt.”
“I think there will be no difficulty about that, Mr. Reynolds,” said Willis Ford, well pleased at these words.
“I sincerely hope that his innocence may be proved.”
Soon afterward Mr. Reynolds went to the Stock Exchange, and Willis Ford returned to his routine duties.
“With the testimony of Jim Morrison I shall be able to fix you, my young friend,” he said to himself, as Grant returned from the post-office.
No further allusion was made to the matter during the day. Grant and Willis Ford were both looking forward to the evening, but for different reasons. Grant expected to be vindicated, while Ford hoped he could convince the broker of the boy’s guilt.
CHAPTER XXI – THE THIEF IS DISCOVERED
Willis Ford ascended the steps of the broker’s residence with a jaunty step. The servant admitted him, but he met Grant in the hall.
“Won’t you come upstairs, Mr. Ford?” he said.
Willis Ford nodded superciliously.
“Your stay in the house will be short, young man,” he thought. “You had better make the most of it.”
He was ushered not into the housekeeper’s room, but into a sitting-room on the second floor. He found Mr. Reynolds and his stepmother there already. Both greeted him, the broker gravely, but his stepmother cordially. Grant did not come in.
“I have come as you requested, Mr. Reynolds,” he said. “I suppose it’s about the bonds. May I ask if you have discovered anything new?”
“I think I have,” answered the broker, slowly.
The housekeeper looked surprised. If anything new had been discovered, she at least had not heard it.
“May I ask what it is?” Ford inquired, carelessly.
“You shall know in good time. Let me, however, return the question. Have you heard anything calculated to throw light on the mystery?”
“No, sir, I can’t say I have. To my mind there is no mystery at all about the affair.”
“I presume I understand what you mean. Still I will ask you to explain yourself.”
“Everything seems to throw suspicion upon that boy, Grant Thornton. Nobody saw him take the bonds, to be sure, but he has had every opportunity of doing so, living in the same house, as he does. Again, a key has been found in his pocket, which will open the bureau drawer in which the bonds were kept; and, thirdly, I can testify, and the boy admits, that he presented them at our office for sale, and received the money for them. I think, sir, that any jury would consider this accumulation of proof conclusive.”
“It does seem rather strong,” said the broker, gravely. “I compliment you on the way you have summed up, Mr. Ford.”
Willis Ford looked much gratified. He was susceptible to flattery, and he was additionally pleased, because, as he thought, Mr. Reynolds was impressed by the weight of evidence.
“I have sometimes thought,” he said, complacently, “that I ought to have become a lawyer. I always had a liking for the profession.”
“Still,” said the broker, deliberately, “we ought to consider Grant’s explanation of the matter. He says that the bonds were intrusted to him for sale by a third party.”
“Of course he would say something like that,” returned Willis, shrugging his shoulders. “He can hardly expect anyone to be taken in by such a statement as that.”
“You think, then, that he had no dealings with this Morrison?”
“I don’t say that, sir,” said Ford, remembering the story which he and Morrison had agreed upon. It may be stated here that he had been anxious to meet Morrison before meeting the coming appointment, in order to ascertain what had passed between him and Grant. With this object in view, he had gone to the usual haunts of the gambler, but had been unable to catch sight of him. However, as he had seen him the evening previous, and agreed upon the story to be told, he contented himself with that.
“You think, then, that Morrison may have given Grant the bonds?” said Mr. Reynolds.
“No, sir; that is not my idea.”
“Have you any other notion?”
“I think the boy may have been owing him money, and took this method of raising it.”
“But how should he owe him money?” asked the broker, curiously.
“I don’t wish to say anything against Morrison, but I have been told that he is a gambler. Grant may have lost money to him at play.”
“Or you,” thought the broker; but he said:
“Your suggestion is worth considering, but I don’t think Grant has had any opportunity to lose money in that way, as he spends his evenings usually at home.”
“It wouldn’t take long to lose a great deal of money, sir.”
“That explains it,” said the housekeeper, speaking for the first time. “I have no doubt Willis is right, and the boy gambles.”
“I presume, Mr. Ford,” said the broker, with a peculiar look, “that you do not approve of gambling?”
“Most certainly not, sir,” said Ford, his face expressing the horror which a so-well-conducted young man must naturally feel for so pernicious a habit.
“I am glad to hear it. Will you excuse me a moment?”
After the broker had left the room, Mrs. Estabrook turned to Willis and said: “You are pretty sharp, Willis. You have found out this wretched boy, and now I think we shall get rid of him.”
“I flatter myself, mother,” said Willis, complacently, “that I have given the old man some new ideas as to the character of his favorite. I don’t think we shall see him in the office again.”
As he spoke, his ears caught the sound of ascending footsteps on the stairs without. He was rather puzzled. He conjectured that Grant had been summoned to confront his accuser, but there seemed, from the sound, to be more than two approaching. When the door opened, and the broker gravely ushered in Jim Morrison and Tom Calder, both looking ill at ease, followed by Grant Thornton, he looked amazed and perplexed.
“I believe you know these gentlemen,” said Mr. Reynolds, gravely. “I have thought it best to make our present investigation thorough and complete.”
“I have met the gentlemen before,” said Ford, uncomfortably.
“You also have met them, Grant, have you not?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Have you had any business transaction with either?”
“Yes, sir. Mr. Morrison met me on Wall Street and handed me two bonds, with a request that I would sell them for him, and hand him the money the next morning, at the Fifth Avenue Hotel.”
“Were these the same bonds that you sold to Mr. Ford?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I think the boy is lying, sir,” burst out Ford.
“What have you to say to the boy’s story, Mr. Morrison?” asked the broker.
“He’s made a little mistake,” answered Jim Morrison, who by this time was feeling more at his ease. “I didn’t give him no bonds.”
Willis Ford looked triumphant, and Grant amazed.
“How, then, could there be any business between you?”
“I may as well own up that I am a gambler,” replied Morrison, with virtuous frankness. “The boy lost the money to me at play, and said he’d meet and pay me at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. I didn’t know where he was goin’ to get the money, but I expect he must have stolen the bonds, and got it that way.”
Considering the damaging nature of the revelation, Grant showed considerable self-command. He did not turn pale, nor did he look guilty and conscience-stricken.
“What have you to say to this charge, Grant?” asked the broker.
“It is not true, sir.”
“What a hardened young villain!” said the housekeeper, in a low, but audible voice.
“Mr. Reynolds will hardly believe you,” said Ford, turning upon our hero and speaking in a tone of virtuous indignation. “You see, sir,” he continued, addressing the broker, “that I was right in my conjecture.”
“I am not quite satisfied yet,” said Mr. Reynolds. “Grant, call the boy.”
Great was the perplexity of Willis Ford and his friends when Grant left the room, and almost immediately reappeared with a small boy in blue uniform. Not one of them recognized him.
“Have you ever seen any of these gentlemen before, my boy?” asked the broker.
“I’ve seed ‘em all, sir,” answered the boy.
“State where you saw them last.”
“I seed him, and him, and him,” said Johnny, pointing out Willis Ford, Jim Morrison and Tom Calder, “at the Grand Central Hotel yesterday mornin’.”
Ford started and became very pale.
“What passed between them?”
“He,” indicating Ford, “gave some bonds to him,” indicating Morrison, “and got back a bit of paper. I don’t know what was on it.”
“It is false!” ejaculated Willis Ford, hoarsely.
