Helping Himself; Or, Grant Thornton's Ambition

“How can there be any doubt?” asked the housekeeper, discontented.

“I do not think there is; but I will tell you now. You claim that your bonds were marked by certain numbers, two of which belong to those which were bought by Mr. Ford at the office to-day?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Meanwhile, you and your stepson have had time to compare notes, and you have had a chance to learn his numbers.”

Mrs. Estabrook turned livid.

“I didn’t expect to have such a charge brought against me, Mr. Reynolds, and by you,” she said, her voice trembling with passion.

“I have brought no such charge, Mrs. Estabrook. I have only explained how there may be doubt of your claim to the money.”

“I thought you knew me better, sir.”

“I think I do, and I also think I know Grant better than to think him capable of abstracting your bonds. Yet you have had no hesitation in bringing this serious charge against him.”

“That is different, sir.”

“Pardon me, I can see no difference. He has the same right that you have to be considered innocent till he is proved to be guilty.”

“You must admit, sir,” said Willis Ford, “that appearances are very much against Grant.”

“I admit nothing, at present; for the affair seems to be complicated. Perhaps, Mr. Ford, you can offer some suggestion that will throw light upon the mystery.”

“I don’t think it very mysterious, sir. My mother kept her bonds in the upper drawer of her bureau. This boy had the run of the house. What was to prevent his entering my mother’s room, opening the drawer, and taking anything he found of value?”

“What was to prevent some one else doing it, Mr. Ford—myself, for example?”

“Of course that is different, Mr. Reynolds.”

“Well, I don’t know. I am honest, and so, I believe, is Grant.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Grant, gratefully.

“It just occurred to me,” said Ford, “to ask my mother if she has at any time lost or mislaid her keys.”

“Well thought of, Mr. Ford,” and Mr. Reynolds turned to his housekeeper for a reply.

“No,” answered Mrs. Estabrook. “I keep my keys in my pocket, and I have them there yet.”

So saying, she produced four keys attached to a ring.

“Then,” continued Ford, “if Grant chances to have a key which will fit the bureau drawer, that would be evidence against him.”

“Show me any keys you may have, Grant,” said the broker.

Grant thrust his hand in his pocket and drew out two keys. He looked at them in astonishment.

“One of them unlocks my valise,” he said. “The other is a strange key. I did not know I had it.”

Ford smiled maliciously. “Let us see if it will open the bureau drawer,” he said.

The party adjourned to the housekeeper’s room. The key was put into the lock of the bureau drawer and opened it at once.

“I think there is no more to be said,” said Willis Ford, triumphantly.

Grant looked the picture of surprise and dismay.

CHAPTER XVIII – GRANT’S ENEMIES TRIUMPH

It is not too much to say that Grant was overwhelmed by the unexpected discovery, in his pocket, of a key that fitted the housekeeper’s drawer. He saw at once how strong it made the evidence against him, and yet he knew himself to be innocent. The most painful thought was, that Mr. Reynolds would believe him to be guilty.

In fact, the broker for the first time began to think that Grant might possibly have yielded to temptation.

“Can’t you account for the possession of that key?” he asked.

“No, sir,” answered Grant, in painful embarrassment. “I have occasion to use but one key, and that is the key to my valise.”

“I think you had occasion to use the other,” sneered Ford.

“Mr. Ford,” retorted Grant, indignantly, “you are determined to think me guilty; but I care nothing for your opinion. I should be very sorry if Mr. Reynolds should think me capable of such baseness.”

“Your guilt seems pretty clear,” said Ford, sarcastically; “as I have no doubt Mr. Reynolds will agree.”

“Speak for yourself, Mr. Ford,” said the banker, quietly.

“I hope you are not going to shield that young thief, Mr. Reynolds,” said the housekeeper. “His guilt is as clear as noonday. I think he ought to be arrested.”

“You are rather in a hurry, Mrs. Estabrook,” said Mr. Reynolds; “and I must request you to be careful how you make charges against me.”

“Against you?” asked the housekeeper, alarmed at his tone.

“Yes,” answered the broker, sternly. “You have insinuated that I intend to shield a supposed thief. I have only to say that at present the theft is to be proved.”

“I submit, sir,” said Ford, “that the evidence is pretty strong. The boy is proved to have had the bonds in his possession, he admits that he sold a part of them and has the money in his possession, and a key is found in his possession which will open the drawer in which the bonds were kept.”

“Who put the key in my pocket?” demanded Grant, quickly.

For a moment Willis Ford looked confused, and his momentary confusion was not lost upon Grant or the banker.

“No doubt you put it there yourself,” he answered, sharply, after a monent’s pause.

“That matter will be investigated,” said the broker.

“I think the money ought to be paid to me,” said the housekeeper.

“Can you prove your ownership of the bonds?” asked the broker.

“I can,” answered Willis Ford, flippantly. “I have seen them.”

“I should like some additional evidence,” said Mr. Reynolds. “You are related to Mrs. Esta-brook, and may be supposed to have some interest in the matter.”

“What proof can I have?” asked the housekeeper, disturbed by this unexpected obstacle.

“Have you the memorandum of the broker who bought you the bonds.”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Then you had better look.”

The housekeeper searched the drawer, and produced, triumphantly, a memorandum to the effect that she had purchased the bonds of a well-known house in Wall Street.

“So far, so good!” said the broker. “It appears that besides the bonds sold you had four one-hundred-dollar bonds?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You had not parted with them?”

“No, sir.”

“They will some time be put on the market, and then we shall have a clew to the mystery.”

“That boy has probably got them,” said the housekeeper, nodding her head emphatically.

“You are at liberty to search my chamber, Mrs. Estabrook,” said Grant, quietly.

“He may have passed them over to that man Morrison,” suggested the housekeeper.

“I hardly think that likely,” said Willis Ford, who saw danger to himself in any persecution of Jim Morrison.

Mr. Reynolds noticed his defense of Morrison, and glanced at him thoughtfully.

“Mrs. Estabrook,” he said, “I am satisfied that you possessed the bonds which you claim, and I will relieve your mind by saying that I will guarantee you against loss by their disappearance. You need have no further anxiety on the subject. I will undertake to investigate the matter, which at present appears to be involved in mystery. Whether or not I succeed in solving it will not matter to you, since you are saved from loss.”

“Thank you, sir,” said the housekeeper, feeling considerably relieved; “it wasn’t much, but it was my all. I depended upon it to use when old age prevented me from earning my living.”

“I am glad you are so wise in providing for the future.”

“You won’t let that boy escape?” the housekeeper could not help adding.

“If you refer to Grant Thornton, I think I may say for him that he has no intention of leaving us.”

“Is he to stay in the house?”

“Of course; and I expect him to aid me in coming to the truth. Let me request, Mrs. Estabrook, that you discontinue referring to him in offensive terms, or I may withdraw my offer guaranteeing you from loss. Grant, if you will accompany me, I have some questions to put to you.”

Grant and his employer left the room together.

“He won’t let the boy be punished, though he must know he’s guilty,” said Mrs. Estabrook, spitefully.

“He makes a fool of himself about that boy,” said Willis Ford, disconcerted.

“He’s an artful young vagabond,” said the housekeeper. “I know he took the bonds.”

“Of course he did,” Ford assented, though he had the best of reasons for knowing that Grant was innocent.

“At any rate,” he continued, “you are all right, mother, since Mr. Reynolds agrees to make up the value of the bonds to you. When you get your money, just consult me about investing it. Don’t put it into bonds, for they may be stolen.”

“Perhaps I’d better put it into the savings bank,” said his stepmother.

“You’ll get very small interest there; I can invest it so you can make quite as much. However, there will be time enough to speak of that when you’ve got the money. Now, mother, I shall have to bid you good-evening.”

“Can’t you stay longer, Willis? I feel so upset that I don’t like to be left alone. I don’t know what that boy may do.”

“I think you are safe,” said Willis Ford, secretly amused. But, as he left the house, he felt seriously disquieted. There was danger that Jim Morrison, when he found the money which he was to receive withheld, would be incensed and denounce Ford, who had received back his evidence of indebtedness. Should he divulge that the bonds had been given him by Ford, Grant would be cleared, and he would be convicted of theft.

As Ford was leaving the house a telegraph boy was just ascending the steps. It was John Cavanagh, already referred to.

As his eyes rested on Ford, he said to himself: “Where have I seen that feller? I know his face.”

Then it flashed upon the boy that he had seen Ford at the Grand Central Hotel, in the act of giving bonds to Jim Morrison.

“It’s queer I should meet him here,” said the telegraph boy to himself. “I wonder what game he’s up to.”

Johnny was introduced into the presence of Mr. Reynolds, for whom he had a message. On his way out he met Grant in the hall. The two boys were acquainted, Grant having at one time advanced Johnny two dollars toward paying his mother’s rent.

“Do you live here?” asked the telegraph boy.

“Yes,” answered Grant.

“I met a feller goin’ out that I’ve seen before. Who was it?”

“Willis Ford, a clerk of Mr. Reynolds.”

“I seed him in the Grand Central Hotel yesterday givin’ some bonds to a suspicious-lookin’ chap.”

“You did,” exclaimed Grant. “Come right up and tell that to Mr. Reynolds,” and he seized the astonished telegraph boy by the arm.

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.