Helping Himself; Or, Grant Thornton's Ambition

“I want to speak to you a moment, Mr. Ford,” he said.

“Well, what is it?” asked Ford, uncomfortably.

“I am hard up.”

“So am I,” responded Willis Ford.

“But you owe me a matter of six hundred dollars.”

“I know it, but you said you wouldn’t trouble me.”

“I didn’t expect I should be obliged to,” said Morrison, smoothly. “But ‘Circumstances alter cases,’ you know. I shall have to ask you for it.”

“That’s all the good it will do,” said Willis, irritably. “I haven’t a cent to my name.”

“When do you expect to have?”

“Heaven knows; I don’t.”

Ford was about to leave his companion and walk away, but Morrison had no intention of allowing the matter to end so. He laid his hand on Ford’s shoulder and said, firmly: “Mr. Ford, this won’t do. Yours is a debt of honor, and must be paid.”

“Will you be kind enough to let me know how it is to be paid?” demanded Ford, with an ugly sneer.

“That is your business, not mine, Mr. Ford.”

“Then, if it is my business, I’ll give you notice when I can pay you. And now, good-afternoon.”

He made another attempt to walk away, but again there was a hand placed upon his shoulder.

“Understand, Mr. Ford, that I am in earnest,” said Morrison. “I can’t undertake to tell you how you are to find the money, but it must be found.”

“Suppose it isn’t?” said Ford, with a look of defiance.

“Then I shall seek an interview with your respected employer, tell him of the debt, and how it was incurred, and I think he would look for another clerk.”

“You wouldn’t do that!” said Ford, his face betraying consternation.

“I would, and I will, unless you pay what you owe me.”

“But, man, how am I to do it? You will drive me to desperation.”

“Take three days to think of it. If you can’t raise it, I may suggest a way.”

The two parted, and Willis Ford was left to many uncomfortable reflections. He knew of no way to raise the money; yet, if he did not do it, he was menaced with exposure and ruin. Would his stepmother come to his assistance? He knew that Mrs. Estabrook had a thousand dollars in government bonds. If he could only induce her to give him the custody of them on any pretext, he could meet the demand upon him, and he would never again incur a debt of honor. He cursed his folly for ever yielding to the temptation. Once let him get out of this scrape, and he would never get into another like it.

The next evening he made a call upon Mrs. Estabrook, and made himself unusually agreeable. The cold-hearted woman, whose heart warmed to him alone, smiled upon him with affection.

“I am glad to see you in such good spirits, Willis,” she said.

“If she only knew how I really felt,” thought her stepson. But it was for his interest to wear a mask.

“The fact is, mother,” he said, “I feel very cheerful. I’ve made a little turn in stocks, and realized three hundred dollars.”

“Have you, indeed, Willis? I congratulate you, my son. No doubt you will find the money useful.”

“No doubt of that. If I had the capital, I could make a good deal more.”

“But there would be the danger of losing,” suggested Mrs. Estabrook.

“That danger is very small, mother. I am in a situation to know all about the course of stocks. I wouldn’t advise another to speculate, unless he has some friend in the Stock Exchange; but for me it is perfectly safe.”

“Pray be careful, Willis.”

“Oh, yes. I am sure to be. By the way, mother, haven’t you got some money in government bonds?”

“A little,” answered Mrs. Estabrook, cautiously.

“How much, now?”

“About a thousand dollars.”

“Let me manage it for you, and I will make it two thousand inside of a month.”

Mrs. Estabrook had a large share of acquisitiveness, but she had also a large measure of caution, which she had inherited from her Scotch ancestry.

“No, Willis,” she said, shaking her head, “I can’t take any risk. This money it has taken me years to save. It is the sole dependence I have for my old age, and I can’t run the risk of losing it.”

“But two thousand dollars will be better than one, mother. Just let me tell you what happened to a customer of ours: He had above five hundred dollars in the savings bank, drawing four per cent interest—only twenty dollars a year. He had a friend in the Stock Exchange who took charge of it, bought stocks judiciously on a margin, then reinvested, and now, after three months, how much do you think it amounts to?”

“How much?” asked the housekeeper, with interest.

“Six thousand five hundred dollars—just thirteen times as much!” answered Willis, glibly.

This story, by the way, was all a fabrication, intended to influence his stepmother. Mrs. Estabrook never doubted Ford’s statement, but her instinctive caution saved her from falling into the trap.

“It looks tempting, Willis,” she said, “but I don’t dare to take the risk.” Ford was deeply disappointed, but did not betray it.

“It is for you to decide,” said he, carelessly, then drifted to other subjects.

Ten minutes later he pressed his hand upon his breast, while his features worked convulsively. “I believe I am sick,” he said.

“What can I do for you, my dear son?” asked the housekeeper, in alarm.

“If you have a glass of brandy!” gasped Willis.

“I will go downstairs and get some,” she said, hurriedly.

No sooner had she left the room than Willis sprang to his feet, locked the door, then went to the bureau, unlocked the upper drawer—he had a key in his pocket which fitted the lock and, thrusting in his hand, drew out a long envelope containing one five-hundred-dollar government bond and five bonds of one hundred dollars each, which he thrust into his side pocket. Then, closing the drawer, he unlocked the door of the room, and when his step-mother returned he threw himself back in his chair, groaning. He took the glass of brandy the housekeeper brought him, and, after a few minutes, professing himself much better, left the house.

“Saved!” he exclaimed, triumphantly. “Now I shall be all right again.”

CHAPTER XV – AN ARTFUL TRAP

Willis Ford was anxious to get away. He feared that Mrs. Estabrook might go to the bureau and discover the loss before he got out of the house, which would make it awkward for him. Once out in the street, he breathed more freely. He had enough with him to pay his only debt, and give him four hundred dollars extra. It might be supposed he would feel some compunction at robbing his stepmother of her all. Whatever her faults, she was devoted to him. But Willis Ford had a hard, selfish nature, and the only thought that troubled him was the fear that he might be found out. Indeed, the housekeeper’s suspicions would be likely to fall upon him unless they could be turned in some other direction. Who should it be? There came to him an evil suggestion which made his face brighten with relief and malicious joy. The new boy, Grant Thornton, was a member of the household. He probably had the run of the house. What more probable than that he should enter Mrs. Estabrook’s chamber and search her bureau? This was the way Willis reasoned. He knew that his stepmother hated Grant, and would be very willing to believe anything against him. He would take care that suspicion should fall in that direction. He thought of a way to heighten that suspicion. What it was my readers will learn in due time.

The next day, at half-past eight o’clock in the morning, on his way down Broadway, Willis Ford dropped into the Grand Central Hotel, and walked through the reading room in the rear. Here sat Jim Morrison and Tom Calder, waiting for him by appointment.

Ford took a chair beside them.

“Good-morning,” he said, cheerfully.

“Have you brought the money?” asked Morrison, anxiously.

“Hush! don’t speak so loud,” said Ford, cautiously. “We don’t want everybody to know our business.”

“All right,” said Morrison, in a lower voice; “but have you brought it?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a trump!” said Morrison, his face expressing his joy.

“That is to say, I’ve brought what amounts to the same thing.”

“If it’s your note,” said Morrison, with sharp disappointment, “I don’t want it.”

“It isn’t a note. It’s what will bring the money.”

“What is it, then?”

“It’s government bonds for six hundred dollars.”

“I don’t know anything about bonds,” said Morrison. “Besides, the amount is more than six hundred dollars.”

“These bonds are worth a hundred and twelve, amounting in all to six hundred and seventy-two dollars. That’s forty more than I owe you. I won’t make any account of that, however, as you will have to dispose of them.”

“I may get into trouble,” said Morrison, suspiciously. “Where did they come from?”

“That does not concern you,” said Ford, haughtily. “Don’t I give them to you?”

“But where did you get them?”

“That is my business. If you don’t want them, say the word, and I’ll take them back.”

“And when will you pay the money?”

“I don’t know,” answered Ford, curtly.

“Maybe he’ll sell ‘em for us himself,” suggested Tom Calder.

“Good, Tom! Why can’t you sell ‘em and give me the money? Then you can pay the exact sum and save the forty dollars.”

“I don’t choose to do so,” said Ford. “It seems to me you are treating me in a very strange manner. I offer you more than I owe you, and you make no end of objections to receiving it.”

“I am afraid I’ll get into trouble if I offer the bonds for sale,” said Morrison, doggedly. “I don’t know anybody in the business except you.”

“Yes, you do,” said Ford, a bright idea occurring to him.

“Who?”

“You know the boy in our office.”

“Grant Thornton?” said Tom.

“Yes, Grant Thornton. Manage to see him, and ask him to dispose of the bonds for you. He will bring them to our office, and I will dispose of them without asking any questions.”

“First rate!” said Tom. “That’ll do, won’t it, Jim?”

“I don’t see why it won’t,” answered Morrison, appearing satisfied.

“I would suggest that you see him some time today.”

“Good! Hand over the bonds.”

Willis Ford had already separated the bonds into two parcels, six hundred in one and four hundred in the other. The first of these he passed over to Jim Morrison.

“Put it into your pocket at once,” he said. “We don’t want anyone to see them. There is a telegraph boy looking at us.”

“I’m going to see if it is all there,” muttered Morrison; and he drew from the envelope the two bonds, and ascertained, by a personal inspection, that they were as represented.

“It’s all right,” he said.

“You might have taken my word for it,” said Willis Ford, offended.

“In matters of business I take no one’s word,” chuckled the confidence man.

“I wonder what they’re up to,” said the little telegraph boy to himself. “I know one of them fellers is a gambler. Wonder who that feller with him is? Them must be gov’ment bonds.”

Johnny Cavanagh was an observing boy, and mentally photographed upon his memory the faces of the entire group, though he never expected to see any of them again.

When Grant was hurrying through Wall Street about noon he came upon Tom Calder and Morrison.

“Hello, there, Grant,” said Tom, placing his hand upon his shoulder.

“What’s the matter, Tom? I’m in a hurry,” said Grant.

“Jim Morrison’s got a little business for you.”

“What is it?”

“He wants you to sell gov’ment bonds for him.”

“You’d better take them round to our office.”

“I haven’t got time,” said Morrison. “Just attend to them, like a good fellow, and I’ll give you a dollar for your trouble.”

“How much have you got?”

“Six hundred—a five hundred and a one.”

“Are they yours?”

“Yes; I’ve had ‘em two years, but now I’ve got to raise money.”

“What do you want for them?”

“Regular price, whatever it is.”

“When will you call for the money?”

“Meet me at Fifth Avenue Hotel with it tomorrow morning at nine o’clock.”

“I shall have to meet you earlier—say half-past eight.”

“All right. Here’s the bonds.”

Grant put the envelope into his pocket, and hurried to the Exchange.

When he returned to the office he carried the bonds to Willis Ford.

“Mr. Ford,” he said, “an acquaintance of mine handed them to me to be sold.”

“Some one you know?” queried Ford.

“I know him slightly.”

“Well, I suppose it’s all right. I’ll make out a check to your order, and you can collect the money at the bank.”

Grant interposed no objection, and put the check in his pocket.

“The boy’s fallen into the trap,” said Willis to himself, exultantly, as he proceeded to enter the transaction on the books.

CHAPTER XVI – GRANT FALLS UNDER SUSPICION

In furtherance of his scheme to throw suspicion upon Grant, Willis Ford decided to make another call upon his stepmother the succeeding evening. It occurred to him that she might possibly connect his visit of the evening before with her loss, and he wished to forestall this.

“Is Mrs. Estabrook at home?” he asked of the servant.

“Yes, sir.”

When the housekeeper made her appearance he carefully scrutinized her face. She was calm and placid, and it was clear that she had not discovered the abstraction of the bonds.

“I dare say you are surprised to see me so soon again,” he commenced.

“I am always glad to see you, Willis,” she said. “Come upstairs.”

“What a pleasant room you have, mother!”

“Yes, I am very comfortable. Have you had any return of your sickness?” she asked, anxiously.

“No, I have been perfectly well. By the way, mother, I have a special object in calling.”

“What is it, Willis?”

“I want to speak to you about those bonds of yours. If you will only sell them out, and invest in Erie, I am sure you will make in six months a sum equal to several years interest.”

“That may be, Willis, but I am very timid about taking a risk. Those bonds represent all the property I have.”

Willis Ford’s conscience pricked him a little, when he heard her speaking thus of the property he had so heartlessly stolen; but he did not show it in his manner.

“What is the date of your bonds, mother?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Does that make any difference?”

“It makes some difference. Those that have longest to run are most valuable.”

“I can easily tell,” said the housekeeper, as she rose from her chair and opened the bureau drawer, in full confidence that the bonds were safe.

It was an exciting moment for Willis Ford, knowing the sad discovery that awaited her.

She put her hand in that part of the drawer where she supposed the bonds to be, and found nothing. A shade of anxiety overspread her face, and she searched hurriedly in other parts of the drawer.

“Don’t you find them, mother?” asked Willis.

“It is very strange,” said Mrs. Estabrook, half to herself.

“What is strange?”

“I always kept the bonds in the right-hand corner of this drawer.”

“And you can’t find them?”

“I have looked all over the drawer.”

“You may have put them, by mistake, in one of the other drawers.”

“Heaven grant it!” said Mrs. Estabrook, her face white with anxiety.

“Let me help you, mother,” said Willis, rising.

She did not object, for her hands trembled with nervousness.

The other drawers were opened and were thoroughly searched, but, of course, the bonds were not found.

Mrs. Estabrook seemed near fainting.

“I have been robbed,” she said. “I am ruined.”

“But who could have robbed you?” asked Ford, innocently.

“I-don’t-know. Oh, Willis! it was cruel!” and the poor woman burst into tears. “All these years I have been saving, and now I have lost all. I shall die in the poorhouse after all.”

“Not while I am living, mother,” said Willis. “But the bonds must be found. They must be mislaid.”

“No, no! they are stolen. I shall never see them again.”

“But who has taken them? Ha! I have an idea.”

“What is it?” asked the housekeeper, faintly.

“That boy—Grant Thornton—he lives in the house, doesn’t he?”

“Yes,” answered Mrs. Estabrook, in excitement. “Do you think he can have robbed me?”

“What a fool I am! I ought to have suspected when–”

“When what?”

“When he brought some bonds to me to-day to sell.”

“He did!” exclaimed Mrs. Estabrook; “what were they?”

“A five-hundred-dollar and a hundred-dollar bond.”

“I had a five-hundred and five one-hundred-dollar bonds. They were mine—the young villain!”

“I greatly fear so, mother.”

“You ought to have kept them, Willis. Oh! why didn’t you? Where is the boy? I will see Mr. Reynolds at once.”

“Wait a minute, till I tell you all I know. The boy said the bonds were handed to him by an acquaintance.”

“It was a falsehood.”

“Do you know the number of your bonds, mother?”

“Yes, I have them noted down, somewhere.”

“Good! I took the number of those the boy gave me for sale.”

Mrs. Estabrook found the memorandum. It was compared with one which Willis Ford brought with him, and the numbers were identical. Four numbers, of course, were missing from Ford’s list.

“That seems pretty conclusive, mother. The young rascal has stolen your bonds, and offered a part of them for sale. It was certainly bold in him to bring them to our office. Is he in the house?”

“I’ll go and see.”

“And bring Mr. Reynolds with you, if you can find him.”

In an excited state, scarcely knowing what she did, the housekeeper went downstairs and found both parties of whom she was in search in the same room. She poured out her story in an incoherent manner, inveighing against Grant as a thief.

When Grant, with some difficulty, understood what was the charge against him, he was almost speechless with indignation.

“Do you mean to say I stole your bonds?” he demanded.

“Yes, I do; and it was a base, cruel act.”

“I agree with you in that, Mrs. Estabrook. It was base and cruel, but I had nothing to do with it.”

“You dare to say that, when you brought the bonds to my son, Willis, to be sold to-day?”

“Is this true, Grant?” asked Mr. Reynolds. “Did you sell any bonds at the office to-day?”

“Yes, sir.”

The broker looked grave.

“Where did you get them?” he asked.

“They were handed to me by an acquaintance in Wall Street.”

“Who was he?”

“His name is James Morrison.”

“What do you know of him? Is he in any business?”

“I know very little of him, sir.”

“Have you handed him the money?”

“No, sir. I am to meet him to-morrow morning at the Fifth Avenue Hotel, and pay him.”

“Why doesn’t he call at the office?”

“I don’t know,” answered Grant, puzzled. “I suggested to him to bring the bonds to the office himself, but he said he was in haste, and offered me a dollar to attend to the matter.”

“This seems a mysterious case.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Reynolds, but I think it is plain enough,” said the housekeeper, spitefully. “That boy opened my bureau drawer, and stole the bonds.”

“That is not true, Mr. Reynolds,” exclaimed Grant, indignantly.

“How did you know the bonds were offered for sale at my office to-day, Mrs. Estabrook?” inquired the broker.

“My son—Willis Ford—told me.”

“When did you see him?”

“Just now.”

“Is he in the house?”

“Yes, sir. I left him in my room.”

“Ask him to be kind enough to accompany you here.”

The housekeeper left the room. Grant and his employer remained silent during her absence.

CHAPTER XVII – THE TELLTALE KEY

Willis Ford entered the presence of his employer with an air of confidence which he did not feel. Knowing his own guilt, he felt ill at ease and nervous; but the crisis had come and he must meet it.

“Take a seat, Mr. Ford,” said Mr. Reynolds, gravely. “Your stepmother tells me that she has lost some government bonds?”

“All I had in the world,” moaned the housekeeper.

“Yes, sir; I regret to say that she has been robbed.”

“I learn, moreover, that a part of the bonds were brought to my office for sale to-day?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And by Grant Thornton?”

“He can answer that question for himself, sir. He is present.”

“It is true,” said Grant, quietly.

“Did you ask him where the bonds came from?”

“He volunteered the information. He said they were intrusted to him for sale by a friend.”

“Acquaintance,” corrected Grant.

“It may have been so. I understood him to say friend.”

“You had no suspicions that anything was wrong?” asked the broker.

“No; I felt perfect confidence in the boy.”

Grant was rather surprised to hear this. If this were the case, Willis Ford had always been very successful, in concealing his real sentiments.

“How did you pay him?”

“In a check to his own order.”

“Have you collected the money on that check, Grant?” asked Mr. Reynolds.

“Yes, sir.”

“Have you paid it out to the party from whom you obtained the bonds?”

“No, sir; I am to meet him to-morrow morning at the Fifth Avenue Hotel.”

Willis Ford’s countenance changed when he heard this statement. He supposed that Jim Morrison already had his money and was safely off with it. Now it was clear that Grant would not be allowed to pay it to him, and his own debt would remain unpaid. That being the case, Morrison would be exasperated, and there was no knowing what he would say.

“What do you know of this man, Grant?”

“Very little, sir.”

“How does he impress you—as an honest, straightforward man?”

Grant shook his head.

“Not at all,” he said.

“Yet you took charge of his business for him?”

“Yes, sir; but not willingly. He offered me a dollar for my trouble, and as I did not know there was anything wrong, I consented. Besides–” Here Grant paused.

“Well?”

“Will you excuse my continuing, Mr. Reynolds?”

“No,” answered the broker, firmly. “On the other hand, I insist upon your saying what you had in your mind.”

“Having seen Mr. Ford in this man’s company, I concluded he was all right.”

Willis Ford flushed and looked disconcerted.

“Is this true, Mr. Ford?” asked the broker. “Do you know this man?”

“What do you say his name was, Thornton?” asked Ford, partly to gain time.

“James Morrison.”

“Yes; I know him. He was introduced to me by an intimate friend of that boy,” indicating Grant.

Willis Ford smiled triumphantly. He felt that he had checkmated our hero.

“Is this true, Grant?”

“I presume so,” answered Grant, coolly. “You refer to Tom Calder, do you not, Mr. Ford?”

“I believe that is his name.”

“He is not an intimate friend of mine, but we came from the same village. It is that boy who was with me when I first met you, Mr. Reynolds.”

The broker’s face cleared.

“Yes, I remember him. But how do you happen to know Tom Calder, Mr. Ford?”

“He had a room at the same house with me. He introduced himself as a friend of this boy.”

“Do you know anything of him—how he earns his living?”

“Haven’t the faintest idea,” answered Ford. “My acquaintance with him is very slight.”

“There seems a mystery here,” said the broker. “This Morrison gives Grant two bonds to dispose of, which are identified as belonging to my housekeeper. How did he obtain possession of them? That is the question.”

“There isn’t much doubt about that,” said Mrs. Estabrook. “This boy whom you have taken into your family has taken them.”

“You are entirely mistaken, Mrs. Estabrook,” said Grant, indignantly.

“Of course you say so!” retorted the housekeeper; “but it stands to reason that that is the way it happened. You took them and gave them to this man—that is, if there is such a man.”

“Your son says there is, Mrs. Estabrook,” said the broker, quietly.

“Well, I don’t intend to say how it happened. Likely enough the man is a thief, and that boy is his accomplice.”

“You will oblige me by not jumping at conclusions, Mrs. Estabrook,” said Mr. Reynolds. “Whoever has taken the bonds is likely to be discovered. Meanwhile your loss will, at all events, be partially made up, since Grant has the money realized from the sale of the greater part of them.”

“I should like to place the money in your hands, Mr. Reynolds,” said Grant.

“But it belongs to me,” said the housekeeper.

“That is undoubtedly true,” said her employer; “but till the matter is ascertained beyond a doubt I will retain the money.”