"Her fortune amounts to one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, does itnot?"
"More than that. The interest has been accumulating till it amounts tonearer one hundred and seventy thousand dollars."
Orton Campbell's eyes sparkled with covetous greed.
"That is a stake worth playing for," he said. "With what I have of myown, it would make me independently rich."
"Just so, Orton," said his father.
"And nothing stands in the way but the caprice of a foolish girl! Ideclare, father, it is too exasperating. Suppose we try anotherdetective? Your man can't be very sharp."
"I have no objection, Orton," said the merchant, "but as he would beemployed in your interest, it is only fair that you should pay theexpense incurred."
"I don't see that," said the son. "She is your ward, you know. It oughtto come out of her property."
"The item may not be allowed. In that case I should be responsible,"said John Campbell, cautiously.
"I'll tell you what I will do, father: if she is found and I marry her,I'll freely pay the whole expense."
"Suppose we find her, and she won't marry you: what then?" asked hisfather, keenly.
The son looked nonplussed, but finally consented in that case to defraythe expense out of his private means--that is, if it could not be takenout of the young lady's fortune.
The matter having been satisfactorily adjusted, they were discussing thechoice of a detective when a clerk came to the door of the privatecounting-room in which father and son were seated and said, "There's aman outside wants to speak to you, Mr. Campbell."
"Who is he, Saunders?"
"I think it's Jones, who used to be in your employ as light porter."
"How does he look? Well-to-do?"
"He is decidedly shabby," answered Saunders.
"Come to ask help, probably," muttered the merchant. "I think I won'tsee him."
Saunders left the office, but presently returned.
"Well, has he gone?" asked the merchant.
"No; he says he wants to see you on business of importance."
"Of importance to himself, probably.--Shall I see him, Orton?"
"Yes, father. If he is humbugging us, we can send him off."
So permission was given, and almost immediately Saunders ushered intothe room a short, broad-shouldered fellow, who looked very much like aprofessional tramp.
"Good-morning, Mr. Campbell," said he, deferentially.
"Humph, Jones, is it you? You don't look as if you had prospered."
"No more I have, sir."
"Don't come near me. Really, your appearance is very disreputable."
"I can't help that, sir. I've just come from California in the steerage,and you can't keep very neat there."
"I believe you went to California to make your fortune, didn't you,Jones?" said Orton Campbell, with a cynical smile.
"Yes, Mr. Orton, I did."
"And you didn't make it, I infer from your appearance."
"I haven't got much money about me now," said Jones, with a shrug and asmile.
"You would have done better not to have left my employment, Jones," saidthe merchant. "You wanted higher pay, I believe, and as I wouldn't giveit, you decided that you could better yourself at the mines."
"That is about so, sir."
"Well, and what luck did you have?"
"Good luck at first, sir. I made a thousand dollars at the mines in afew months."
"Indeed!" said Orton, in surprise.
"I came with it to San Francisco, and gambled it away in one night. ThenI was on my beam-ends, as the sailors say."
"Did you go back?"
"No. I went to work in the city, and managed to get enough money to buya steerage passage, and here I am."
"I suppose you have come to ask me to take you back into my employ?That, I take it, is your business with me."
"No, sir--not exactly."
"Then, what is it?" asked the merchant, looking a little puzzled. Itcrossed his mind that Jones might so far have forgotten his rule neverto give away money for any purpose as to suppose there was a chance toeffect a loan.
"I thought you and Mr. Orton might be willing to pay my expenses back toSan Francisco," said Jones, coolly.
"Are you out of your head, Jones?" demanded Orton Campbell, amazed atthe man's effrontery.
"Not at all."
"If this is meant as a joke, Jones," said the merchant in a dignifiedtone, "it is a very poor--and, I may add, a very impudent--one. Whatpossible claim have you on us, that you should expect such a favor?"
"Have you heard anything of your ward, Mr. Campbell?" asked Jones, notin the least abashed.
"No. What has my ward to do with your concerns?"
"I have seen her," answered Jones, briefly.
"Where?" asked John Campbell and his son simultaneously.
"That information belongs to me," said Jones, quietly. "A detectivedoesn't work without pay."
The two Campbells now began to see the point. This man had informationto sell, and would not give it up without what he considered suitablecompensation. They determined to drive the best possible bargain withhim. He was poor, and probably could be bought over for a small sum.
"Your information is worth something, Jones," said the merchant,guardedly. "I will go so far as to give you twenty-five dollars cash forit."
"That won't do," said Jones, shaking his head.
"Your information may be worth nothing," said Orton. "You may have seenher, but that doesn't show where she is now."
"I know where she is now," said Jones.
"Is she in California?"
"I don't mind telling you as much as that, Mr. Orton."
"Then we can find her without your assistance."
"I don't think you can. At any rate, it will take time, especially as,if you don't make a bargain with me, I shall write her that you are onher track."
Father and son looked at each other.
It was evident that Jones was no fool, and they would be obliged tosubmit to his terms or give up the search, which was not to be thoughtof.
"What do you propose, Jones?" asked Mr. Campbell, a little lesshaughtily.
"That you pay my expenses back to California and one thousand dollars,"said Jones, promptly. "If you or Mr. Orton will go with me, I will showyou where she lives, and then you can take your own course."
This was finally agreed to, and Orton Campbell and the ex-porter sailedby the next steamer for San Francisco, where Florence Douglas, stillboarding with Mrs. Armstrong, was waiting impatiently for news ofRichard Dewey.
CHAPTER XXII.
A MORNING CALL.
Florence Douglas had now been an inmate of Mrs. Armstrong's householdfor some months. She avoided making acquaintances, and therefore wasoften lonely. But she was buoyed up by the thought that Richard Deweywas somewhere in the State, and that the two messengers whom she hadsent out would eventually find him. She felt great confidence in Ben,and also in Bradley, who had impressed her as an honest, straightforwardman, though illiterate and not at all times superior to temptation.
Her hope had been sustained by a letter received from Ben at the time heand Bradley were on the point of starting for the Sierras, where theyhad information that Dewey was engaged in mining. Then weeks passed, andshe heard nothing. She began to feel anxious for the safety of her twoagents, knowing that not alone wild beasts, but lawless men, were to beencountered among the mountains. Should Ben and his companion come toharm, she would be sincerely sorry for their fate, feeling in a measureresponsible for it. Still more, Richard Dewey would then be leftignorant of her presence in California, and might return to the East inthat ignorance, leaving her friendless and alone more than threethousand miles from her old home.
How would her heart have been cheered could she have known that at thatmoment Richard Dewey, with his two faithful friends, was but four days'journey from the city! So it happens that good fortune is often nearerto us than we imagine, even when our hear
ts are most anxious.
While she was trying to look on the bright side one morning, Mrs.Armstrong entered her room. "Miss Douglas," she said, "there is agentleman in the parlor who wishes to see you."
Her heart gave a great bound. Who could it be but Richard Dewey whowould call upon her?
"Did he give his name?" she asked, in agitation.
"No; he said you would know him."
"It must be Richard," she said to herself; and, controlling heragitation as well as she could, she descended to the parlor. She pauseda moment before opening the door to regain her self-possession. Then,with an effort, she turned the knob, and entering the room, foundherself face to face with Orton Campbell!
It was so unexpected and so bitter a disappointment that an expressionof blank dismay overspread her face, and she sank into the nearest chairwithout venturing on a single word of greeting.
"You didn't expect to see me, Miss Douglas?" said Orton, enjoying theeffect of his appearance, for he had never deceived himself with thethought that his father's ward would be glad to see him.
By this time Florence had regained her self-possession, and with it cameback scorn for the man whose object in pursuing her she well understoodto be love of her fortune, not of herself.
"You are entirely right, Mr. Campbell," she answered. "You are the lastperson I expected to see."
"You don't appear very glad to see me," he continued.
"Why should I appear so? You know very well that I am not glad to seeyou," said the heiress, frankly.
"That is complimentary," said Orton, rather provoked, though he knewvery well in advance that such was her feeling.
"I suppose you didn't come here for compliments, Mr. Campbell?" saidFlorence, coldly.
"You are right: I didn't."
"May I ask if you are in San Francisco on business?"
"You take things very coolly, I must say, Miss Douglas. Certainly youcannot be ignorant of my motive in coming here at great personalinconvenience."
"I hope I have nothing to do with your reason."
"You are the sole reason."
"I am sorry to hear it."
"I came to remonstrate with you on the very unwise step you took inrunning away from your legal guardian."
"My legal guardian, as you call him, though I look upon him as such onlyas far as my property is concerned, rendered the step necessary."
"I don't see how."
"In plain terms, Mr. Orton Campbell, I believe that you and your fatherentered into a conspiracy to keep my fortune in the family by inducingme to become your wife."
"I certainly did ask you to become my wife, but it was not because ofyour fortune," answered the young man.
Florence's lip curled. She thoroughly disbelieved his statement. Thoughshe said nothing, it was clear to him from her expression that she putno confidence in his words.
"You may believe me or not," he said, doggedly; "but why should youthink so poorly of yourself as to suppose you have nothing to attractlovers except your money?"
"I may not be so modest as you suppose, Mr. Campbell. I do believe thatI have won the love of a true and noble man. My doubt only related toyourself."
"You mean Richard Dewey, I suppose?" said Orton Campbell, with a sneer.
"I do mean Richard Dewey," answered Florence, with composure.
"By the way, he came to California, I believe."
"Yes."
"And you came here in pursuit of him?" he added, with a sneer.
"I came here to find him, knowing that in him I had a true friend, whileyour father's persecution and your own made me feel the need of one."
"Have you found him? Do you know where he is?" asked Orton Campbell,eagerly.
"I only know he is somewhere at the mines. I have taken steps to findhim, and hope eventually to succeed."
"Why don't you advertise?" asked the young man, with an angry sneer.
"Would you advise it?" asked Miss Douglas, coolly.
"No," muttered Orton, for he feared such a step might prove successful."What steps have you taken?" he asked.
"I prefer to keep them to myself."
"Miss Douglas," said Orton Campbell, after a pause, "all this is veryfoolish and humiliating. There is only one proper course for you topursue."
"What is it?"
"Return to New York with me in the next steamer, and place yourself oncemore under the care of my father, whose protection you never ought tohave left."
"'Protection'!" repeated Florence, with bitter emphasis. "Whatprotection did he give me?"
"All that was required."
"'All that was required'? You know very well that you and he hadconspired to put me in a mad-house if I would not agree to enrich you bygiving you my hand."
"That is not true," said Orton Campbell, rather confused.
"'Not true'? He distinctly threatened to do it as a means of terrifyingme into compliance with his and your wishes. It was not until then thatI decided to leave your house and seek some place of refuge until timeand the law should set me completely free from your family and theirmachinations."
"It is evident, Miss Douglas, that you are under a delusion. Your way oftalking is sufficient to show that your mind is affected. Any goodphysician would need no other proof."
Florence Douglas looked at him with distrust. Was this a threat, or howshould she interpret it?
"It is convenient, Mr. Orton Campbell," she retorted with spirit, "tocharge with madness those who oppose us. At home I felt afraid of yourthreats: here I am secure."
He thought that perhaps he had gone too far, since the young lady wasindependent of him, and it was not certain that he could gain possessionof her.
"Miss Douglas," he said, "I have already told you that you have taken anunwise step. There is one way to remedy it, and I hope I may be able toinduce you to take it. Let me assure you that I have called upon you asa friend, as a warm friend, as one who seeks to be something more than afriend."
"Well, sir?"
"Let me urge you to consent to an immediate marriage with me, and toaccompany me home on the next steamer. My father will receive you as adaughter, and never allude to your flight."
"I suppose I ought to thank you for your disinterested proposal, Mr.Campbell, but I can only tell you that you ask what is entirely out ofthe question. This is final. Allow me to wish you good-morning."
"But, Miss Douglas--"
She did not turn back nor heed these last words, and Orton Campbellfound himself alone.
He rose slowly from his seat, and an evil look came into his eyes. "Shehas not done with me yet," he muttered as he left the house.
CHAPTER XXIII.
A SECRET CONFERENCE.
The affairs of Florence Douglas are so interwoven with the fortunes ofmy young hero that I find myself obliged to devote a part of my space totheir record. I confess that I have no pleasure in detailing the schemesof Orton Campbell, who seems to me a very disagreeable character, but itseems necessary.
After leaving the presence of Miss Douglas he took a walk, to considerthe situation and decide what it was most expedient to do. He wasspending considerable time and money in the effort to recover hisfather's ward, and he did not like to fail. Yet it was not easy todecide upon any plan which would bring success. It was not a matter inwhich he could invoke the assistance of the law. The young lady's mannerconvinced him that she would not of her own free will consent toaccompany him back. What, then, was to be done?
On the principle that two heads are better than one, he resolved to takehis companion, Jones, into his confidence and ask him to make asuggestion.
"How did you find the young lady, Mr. Orton?" asked his follower on hisreturn to the hotel.
"Very offish, Jones."
"Then she wasn't glad to see you?" said Jones, with a grin.
"By no means. She hardly treated me with civility."
"That's because of the other man," said Jones, sagaciously.
"You are right. Mr. Dewey, as I learne
d, is in California."
"Then maybe they have an understanding together."
"No; she doesn't know where he is."
Jones was puzzled, and showed it in a way common to men of his class. Hescratched his head and looked perplexed.
"Then, what good is it for her to stay here?" he asked, after a pause.
"She is taking steps to find this Dewey, who is somewhere at the mines,though she would not tell me what they were. He may turn up any time,and then good-bye to all my hopes."
"You want to marry her yourself, Mr. Orton?"
"Of course. Otherwise I wouldn't have come so far in search of her."
"The young lady is very rich, isn't she?" asked Jones, shrewdly.
"She has a moderate fortune," replied Orton, guardedly; "but thatdoesn't influence me."
"Of course not," said Jones; but there was something in his tone whichmade Campbell eye him sharply.
"I am no fortune-hunter," said he, stiffly.
"You'd want to marry her just the same if she hadn't a cent?"
"Of course I would," snapped Orton.
"Now, that's what I call real love," said Jones. "To be sure, you'rerich yourself, and needn't mind."
"Precisely so. I may not be rich, but I can support a wife."
"As the young lady prefers some one else, I suppose we may as well gohome?"
"That's what I want to talk to you about, Jones. Very likely this Deweyis dead; at any rate, he's a mere fortune-hunter. Now, although Florencedoesn't care to marry me now, if our marriage could be brought about shewould no doubt be reconciled to it after a while. Now, Jones, have youanything to suggest?"