CHAPTER XXXII

  RISEN FROM THE DEAD

  Ralph Pendleton proceeded.

  "This blow overwhelmed me. All that I had been laboring for seemedsuddenly snatched from me."

  "You had your money," suggested Mr. Stanton.

  "Yes, I had my money; but for money itself I cared little."

  Mr. Stanton shrugged his shoulders a little contemptuously. He could notunderstand how anyone could think slightingly of money, and he decidedin his own mind that Ralph was an unpractical enthusiast.

  "I valued money only as a means to an end, and that end was to makeMargaret Lindsay my wife. She failed me, and my money lost its charm."

  "There were plenty who could have consoled you in her place."

  "No doubt, I might have been successful in other quarters, but I didnot care to try. I left New York in disgust, and, going West, I buriedmyself in the forest, where I built a rude cabin, and there I have livedsince, an unsocial, solitary life. Years have passed since I visited NewYork."

  "What did you do with your money all this while?"

  "I left it in the hands of men whom I could trust. It has beenaccumulating all these years, and I find that the fifty thousand dollarshave swelled to ninety thousand."

  "Indeed!" ejaculated Mr. Stanton, his respect for Ralph considerablyraised. "And now you have come here to enjoy it, I suppose?"

  "A different motive has led to my coming--a motive connected with you,"said Ralph, fixing his eyes steadily upon Mr. Stanton.

  "Connected with me!" repeated the merchant, uneasily.

  "Yes."

  "May I ask in what manner?"

  "I expected the question, and am come to answer it. When I returnedfrom Europe impoverished, you gave me a brief statement of the manner inwhich you had invested my fortune, and showed me how it had melted awaylike snow before the sun."

  "You remember rightly. I bought, on your account, shares in LakeSuperior Mining Company, which promised excellently, and bade fairto make handsome returns. But it proved to be under the management ofknaves, and ran quickly down from par to two per cent., at which price Ithought best to sell out, considering that a little saved from the wreckwas better than nothing."

  "This is according to the statement you made me," said Ralph, quietly.

  "I am sure," said Mr. Stanton, "that no one regretted more than I dothe disastrous result. Indeed, I had reason to do so, for I was myselfinvolved, and suffered considerable loss."

  "I am aware now that you were concerned in the matter," said Ralph,significantly.

  "What do you mean?" asked Mr. Stanton, quickly, detecting somethingpeculiar in his tone.

  "I will tell you. You were right in denouncing the management asknavish. The company was got up by knaves, on a basis of fraud, andwas from the first intended as a trap for the unwary. But there is oneimportant circumstance which you have neglected to mention."

  "What is that?" asked Mr. Stanton, in a voice which strove to becomposed.

  "I mean this," said Ralph, firmly, "that you yourself were the primeoriginator of the company--that you engineered it through to theend--that you invested my money with the express intention of convertingit to your own profit. I charge you with this, that all, or nearly allthe property I lost, went into your pocket."

  The color came and went in Mr. Stanton's face. He seemed staggered bythis sudden and unexpected accusation, and did not at first make reply.

  Feeling forced to speak at last, he said: "This is very strangelanguage, Mr. Pendleton."

  "It is unexpected, no doubt, for after all these years you probablythought it would remain forever unknown; but in what respect is itstrange? I have given you a statement of facts as directly as I could."

  "They are not facts. Your charge is wholly false," said the merchant,but his tone was not that of a man who speaks the truth boldly.

  "I wish I could believe it," said Ralph. "I wish I could believe thatI was not deliberately swindled by one who professed to be my father'sfriend."

  "On what authority do you bring this monstrous charge?" demanded Mr.Stanton, more boldly. "How happens it that you have not made it before?"

  "For the simple reason that I myself did not suspect any fraud. Ipresumed that it was as you stated to me, and that your only fault wasyour injudicious investment."

  "Well, I admit that, as it turned out, the investment was injudicious.Everything else I deny."

  "Your denial is vain."

  "You cannot prove the truth of what you say."

  "So you fall back on that? But you are mistaken. I can prove the truthof what I say," said Ralph firmly.

  "How?"

  "Do you remember a man named David Marston?"

  "He is dead," said Mr. Stanton, hastily.

  "So you have supposed," said Ralph; "but you were deceived. He is notdead. I only encountered him a week since, quite by accident, in myWestern home. He was your confidential clerk, you remember, and fullyacquainted with all your business transactions at the time of which Iam speaking. From him I learned how basely I had been deceived, andwith what deliberate cruelty you conspired to rob the son of your deadfriend."

  "I don't believe David Marston is alive," said Mr. Stanton, hoarsely,with a certain terror in his face. "Indeed, I have proof that he isdead."

  "I know the character of your proof. A paper was forwarded to youfrom Australia, whither you had sent him, containing the record of hisdeath."

  "Yes? What have you to say against this?"

  "That the publication was a mistake. He was dangerously sick, and it wasfalsely announced that he was dead. That notice was sent to you, and youbelieved it to be true."

  "I believe it now," said Mr. Stanton, doggedly. "Why should I not?"

  "If you wish to be convinced, proof is at hand. Wait a moment."

  Ralph Pendleton rose from his seat and left the counting-room. Twominutes had not passed when he returned with an elderly man, thin offace and wasted in figure, looking twenty years older than Mr. Stanton,though really of about the same age.

  "This is David Marston," said Ralph--"the living proof that I have toldyou the truth."

  Mr. Stanton gazed at him wildly, for to him it was as the face of onerisen from the dead.

  "How do you do, Mr. Stanton?" said David Marston, humbly. "It is many,many years since we met, sir."

  "Are you really David Marston?" demanded Mr. Stanton, never taking hiseyes off the shrunken figure of his old clerk.

  "I am, sir; greatly changed indeed, but still the David Marston who wasformerly in your employ. Time hasn't treated me as well as it has you,sir. I've been unlucky, and aged fast."

  "I am afraid your mind is also affected. You have been telling strangestories to Mr. Pendleton here."

  "True stories, sir," said David, firmly.

  "Come, come, how much is he going to give you for this evidence ofyours?"

  "Stop, Mr. Stanton! You insult us both," said Ralph Pendleton, sternly."I am not the man to buy false evidence, nor is David Marston the man toperjure himself for pay. David, I want you, in Mr. Stanton's presence,to make a clear statement of his connection with the mining company bywhich I lost my fortune."

  David Marston obeyed, and in a few words as possible unfolded thestory. It is not necessary to repeat it here. Enough that it fullysubstantiated the charge which Ralph had brought against his earlyguardian.

  When he had finished, Ralph said, "You can judge what weight Marston'stestimony would have before a court of justice, and whether it wouldhelp your commercial standing to have his story made public."

  "What is it you want of me?" said Mr. Stanton, sullenly.

  "I want restitution, dollar for dollar, of my lost money. I willwaive interest, though I might justly claim it. But, were it all paid,interest and principal, the wrong would not be redressed. You cannotrestore the bride who would have been mine but for your villainy."

  "How much time will you give me to pay this money?" asked the merchant,moodily.

  "Ten days."


  "It is a short time."

  "It must suffice. Do you agree?"

  "I must."

  "Bind yourself to that, and for ten days I leave you free."

  Satisfactory security was given that the engagement would be met, andRalph Pendleton left the counting-room. But his countenance was scarcelymore cheerful than that of the man he had conquered.

  "I am rich," he said to himself; "but of what avail is it? Whom can Ibenefit with my wealth?"

  This thought had scarcely crossed his mind when he came face to facewith Herbert, walking with a sad and downcast face in the oppositedirection.