That night, after the establishment of Mr. Warmore was closed and theemployees had gone home, two persons remained behind to engage in earnestconsultation. They were the proprietor and G. Field Catherwood, the youngman who expected, at the end of the year, to become an equal partner withhim. The doors were fastened, and the two sat alone in the private office,the expression on the faces of both showing that some grave matter weighedupon them.
"How long has this been going on?" asked Mr. Warmore.
"For two weeks or more; that is to say, I discovered it about a fortnightago. No doubt it has been kept up in a small way for a long time previousto that."
"How much do you suppose has been taken altogether?"
"Several hundred dollars; perhaps a thousand."
"And your suspicions point to Mr. Gordon?"
"I am sorry to say they do. Of course he was the last one to suspect; but,when I began quietly investigating, the trail led unmistakably to him."
"What caused you first to suspect him, Mr. Catherwood?"
"Well, when a merchant finds some, one of his employees is robbing him,the most natural thing to do is to look into the habits of them all. If hediscovers that one is living beyond his means, he naturally probes alittle farther; and, if his habits prove to be extravagant, the suspicionincreases."
"What did you find out about Mr. Gordon?"
"I accidentally learned that he has a considerable sum in thesavings-bank."
"He deserves credit for that."
"True, if that which was deposited was his own. Besides, he spends a gooddeal of money."
"In what way?"
"In the first place, on his clothes."
"He certainly is well dressed, but no more so than his salary willpermit."
"Last week he paid off a mortgage on the farm of Mr. Pitcairn, and thenmade a present of it to the old gentleman."
"What was the amount?"
"Several thousand dollars."
"You are mistaken. Mr. Pitcairn told me of it three days ago. He hadpromised Mr. Gordon not to tell any one; but the farmer was so happy thathe said he could not keep it back. It was only three hundred dollars,however."
"Then I was misinformed," Catherwood hastened to say with a flush; "but Ihappen to know he is speculating in Wall Street, and betting on theraces."
"That is bad; is your information reliable?"
"There can be no doubt of its truth."
"Have you any objection to telling me the channel through which thisknowledge reached you?"
"I would be glad to do so, but the source at present is confidential."
"Very well; I am sorry to hear this about Mr. Gordon, for, as you know, Iheld him in high regard. For the present, let us keep the matter a closesecret. Do not let him see he is under suspicion, and we will not moveuntil certain there can be no mistake in the matter."
A few minutes later the two walked out of the front door, which wascarefully locked behind them, and sauntered homeward. The younger man wentto the chief hotel of the town, while the elder continued up the highway,thinking deeply over the subject he had just discussed with Catherwood.
Now, it so happened that Josiah Warmore, the merchant, was a far shrewderman than G. Field Catherwood suspected. If the latter had been playing apart, so had the former.
As has been intimated, it came to the knowledge of the merchant, about afortnight before, that some one in his employ was systematically robbinghim. Gatherwood first dropped a hint, and then both investigated so faras the opportunity allowed. The result turned suspicion toward Tom Gordon.The merchant had learned, in the course of his long and varied experience,the sad truth that no man in the world can be picked out and declared,beyond all possibility of doubt, to be absolutely honest. Thousands ofpeople live and die and go to their graves wrapped in the mantle ofunassailable integrity. It may be they have not defrauded a person out ofa penny, for the simple reason that the temptation has never been strongenough to make them do so. Had it been a little stronger, they would havesuccumbed. Others, after years of straightforward life, have fallen. So itmight be that, though he had given full trust to Tom Gordon, he was notworthy to receive that trust. This half-belief caused the chill in histreatment of the young man, so different from that to which he had beenaccustomed. Before making up his final judgment, however, Mr. Warmoreresolved that every vestige of doubt should be removed. He sent for Mr.Fyfe Lathewood, one of the shrewdest detectives in New York City, told himall the circumstances, and ordered him to find out the whole truth, nomatter what it cost, or where it might strike.
The detective had been at work the better part of a week, without any onein Bellemore suspecting his identity or business. On the afternoon of theday in which Tom Gordon checked the runaway pony of Miss Warmore, thedetective dropped into the store, as any stranger might have done, made afew trifling purchases, and then turned and walked out. As he did so, hemanaged to pass close to the proprietor, who was standing at the front,and whispered:--
"_It isn't Gordon; I'll see you to-night_."
Mr. Warmore was strolling homeward, swinging the heavy cane which healways carried, when, in passing a small stretch of woods just beyond theoutskirts of the town, a man stepped from among the trees with the stealthof a shadow and waited for him to approach. The merchant hesitated amoment in doubt of his identity, but the other spoke in a low voice,--
"It's all right; come on."
"I wasn't quite sure," remarked Mr. Warmore, turning aside among thetrees, where he could talk with the detective without the possibility ofbeing seen or overheard.
"Well," said the merchant in a guarded voice, "what is it?"
"It was a dirty piece of business to throw suspicion on that young Gordon.He is as innocent as you or I."
"What did you learn about him?"
"You told me of that mortgage which he paid off for the farmer where hehas lived so long."
"Yes; there is no doubt of the truth of that."
"He has been in your employ for four or five years. You tell me he issaving, and has no bad habits. So the paying of such a small mortgageought not to be impossible."
"By no means."
"Nor would it be strange if he had a nest-egg in the savings-bank?"
"Knowing him as well as I do, I would be surprised if such was not thefact. There is no one in the world dependent on him, and his wages areliberal. But what about Wall Street and the races?"
"He has never risked a dollar there, I am sure of it."
"I had my doubts, but Catherwood told me he had positive information."
"He simply lied to you--that's all. Have you found how this money is takenfrom you? Does it disappear through the day,--that is, is it missing atnight in making up the accounts, or is the money short in the morning?"
"It has happened in both ways."
"You do not keep a private watchman?"
"We have one who passes along the front every half hour or so, and looksin to see if the light is burning, and everything is right. Two of theclerks sleep overhead, so it would seem that such a thing as burglary isout of the question."
"Can you get me inside the store to-night without being seen?"
"I guess I can manage it," replied the merchant in surprise.
"How would you like to go with me? There will be no personal danger. Iwill see to that."
"What time of the night do you wish to enter?"
"It isn't likely there will be a visitor before midnight; but, to makesure, we will say about eleven."
"I can warn the watchman"--
"You mustn't think of such a thing! We must slip inside without a soulknowing it. The watchman is the last one to trust."
"Do you suspect _him_?" asked the astonished Mr. Warmore.
"Not in the least; but you must never trust any person when it canpossibly be avoided. Doubtless, he means well, but he may leak. Thegentleman for whom we are looking might take it into his head to quiz him:do you see?"
"It shall be as you say. Will you call for me?
"
"Yes; it will be safe enough, I think, to do that."
After his family had retired, Mr. Warmore lit a cigar a few minutes beforethe time mentioned, and sauntered down the path in front of his house.Detective Lathewood was prompt, and met him at his gate. They walkedbriskly along the highway, until they entered the town and approached thelarge establishment which had been in the possession of the Warmore familyfor the better part of a century. The merchant's familiarity with his ownpremises enabled him to enter by a back way, without attracting theattention of the watchman or any one. They waited till the streets, whichwere quite clear at that late hour, showed no one near, when they slippedinside, and closed the door behind them.
It was important that the two clerks sleeping upstairs should not beawakened; for they were not only likely to begin shooting, if they heardintruders below, but, of necessity, would learn of the project which thedetective and the merchant had in mind.
Every foot was familiar to Mr. Warmore, who reached the large main room ofhis establishment without mishap. Lathewood did the same, by keeping closeto him, and feeling each inch of the way.
Here there was a light burning; and they had to be extremely careful,since their movements could be seen by any one passing the front. Theopportunities, however, for concealment were so good that they readilysecured a place where they could sit down behind the far end of thecounter, and remain unobserved in comfort. This was done, and the tryingwait began.
The detective was so accustomed to that sort of thing, that he remainedcool and collected. He would have liked to smoke a cigar to help whileaway the time, but was too wise to attempt anything of the kind. The odorof tobacco would be certain to warn any one who entered by means of thefront door.
Mr. Warmore was nervous, for the experience was new to him. He succeededby a great effort in keeping himself well in hand, venturing only towhisper a word now and then.
"You don't think he is likely to come in the back way?" he asked in aguarded undertone.
"There is not the slightest danger of his doing so. That would looksuspicious. He will use the front door, so, if seen and challenged, hewill be ready with the excuse that he has called on legitimate business ofhis own. At the same time, he will try to manage it so as not to beobserved by any one. That watchman of yours is not the keenest-eyed fellowin the world."
Some time later, just as the town clock finished booming the hour ofmidnight, the officer touched the arm of his companion, who said,--
"I haven't noticed anything; what is it?"
"Did you hear some one walk past?"
"Yes; the footfall sounded plainly enough: what of it?"
"That is the third time that man has gone by. He is on the alert."
"It may have been different persons."
"It was the same man--sh! there he comes on the porch."
In the stillness of the night the sound was plainly heard. The next momenta key turned in the lock of the door, which was silently shoved inward.
The visitor, whoever he was, acted with the coolness of a professional. Heentered by the main door, so, if it chanced that any one saw him, he couldexplain the cause of his visit. At the same time, he made as sure as waspossible that no one did see him. Knowing the movements of the watchman,he waited until he was out of the way, with the certainty that he wouldnot be back again under a half-hour at the least. That interval was morethan sufficient to do all that he had in mind, and to take his departure.
He opened the door so quietly that, but for the warning rattle of the key,it would have been hard for the watchers to hear him. Almost before theyknew it he stood inside with the door closed. Here the light fell uponhim, and revealed his identity to the men at the rear.
Neither was surprised. Although they had not mentioned their suspicions toeach other, both were morally certain the thief would prove to be the manwhom they now identified. G. Field Catherwood.
Walking quickly and softly across the floor to the private office, whichopened off from the other end of the counter, the prospective partner ofthe business stooped down, turned the shining knob of the safe round untilthe right combination had been struck, and swung back the immense, massivedoor. Then from an inner drawer he drew the merchant's bank-book, in whichwere clasped several hundred dollars in bills. Two of the largestdenomination--fifty each--were withdrawn, and the book returned to itsplace.
No veteran could have been cooler than Catherwood. He looked and acted nomore like the exquisite on the steamboat than did Tom Gordon himself. Hewas the sleek, cunning, hypocritical villain he had always been, stealing,not because he was in need of money, but because it was his nature to doso.
"_Well, Mr. Catherwood, it looks as if the account will be a little shortto-morrow_!"
The miscreant started as if he had heard the warning of a rattlesnake athis feet. Turning like a flash, he saw Mr. Warmore standing at his elbow.Had he received but a few seconds' notice, he might have tried to bluff itout, by pretending he had come to look after some matters about which hewas not fully satisfied. Holding the situation he did in theestablishment, he could feel certain no one would suspect him of anysinister purpose.
But the exposure dropped like a thunderbolt. He had not an instant toprepare himself. He was caught in the act, and could explain nothing.
Mr. Warmore, upon seeing who the thief was, whispered to the detective,--
"Leave him to me; don't show yourself, unless he resists."
Before the shivering rogue could make protest, the merchant, suppressinghis anger, said with a coolness which surprised himself as much as it didthe officer crouching a few paces away, with his hand on his revolver,--
"We will call the amount stolen an even thousand dollars, Mr. Catherwood.How soon will you be prepared to restore it?"
"Why--why--why"--
"As a beginning, suppose you return that which you have just taken."
Catherwood did as ordered without a word.
"Now re-lock the safe. Be sure you have the right combination. No oneknows it besides you and me. I will give you a week in which to send backthe rest."
G. Field Catherwood was recovering his nerve. He was furious with himselfthat he had been so completely knocked out.
"Suppose I don't choose to return it, what then?"
"It will be ten years or more in State prison."
"Bah! you will have a sweet time proving anything against me."
"I have a witness at hand."
"W-w-what!"
"_Give me the word and I'll have the nippers on him before you can sayJack Robinson_."
The detective, without rising to his feet or allowing himself to be seen,uttered these words in such a sepulchral tone that they almost lifted thehair on the head of the criminal. He started, and stared affrightedly backin the gloom.
"What do you say?" asked the merchant.
"It's all right; it's all right. I'll send it to you as soon as I can getback to the city. Don't be too hard on a fellow, Warmore. I declare"--
"Enough has been said. Now go!"
He went.
"You are too tender-hearted," remarked Detective Lathewood, when he andMr. Warmore were walking homeward.
"Perhaps I am; but mean as is the man, I shuddered at the thought ofdisgracing and ruining him for life."
"But it was _he_, not _you_, who does that."
"True; I know that's the way you officers of the law look at it. But thisis not the first time I have had dealings with young men who have yieldedto temptation. I think it is safer to err on the side of charity thanthat of sternness. It is better to reform than to punish a man."
"Do you think you have reformed that specimen?"
"Far from it; he is the most contemptible scoundrel I ever knew. He isrich, and therefore has no excuse for stealing. Worse than all, he triedto ruin a young man whose shoe-latchet he is not worthy to unloose."
"So you unloose _him_. But let him go. He is certain not to trouble you orany of your family again."
Two
days later Mr. Warmore received a certified check for nine hundreddollars; and thus the account between him and G. Field Catherwood wasclosed. He was never seen in Bellemore again. Ten years later he died,while travelling abroad with a woman whom he had made his wife. Then, forthe first time, Tom Gordon learned the particulars of the night when Mr.Warmore assisted the detective.
Let us take one more, and the final, leap forward. Three years have passedsince Tom Gordon checked runaway Jack, and saved the life of pretty JennieWarmore. They have been three years of undimmed happiness to both; forduring the last one of those years they two became man and wife.
Oh, it all came about so naturally, that you would not care to know theparticulars. Tom was given a share in the business which he had done somuch to develop; and on the day previous to his wedding his prospectivefather-in-law presented him with a half interest, thus insuring him ahandsome income for life.
Tom made one condition, which was carried out in spirit and letter. Mr.Pitcairn, from whose hospitable roof he took his final departure, was tohave all the groceries, dry-goods, and every sort of supplies from thestore as long as he lived, without paying one penny therefor. And it is apleasure to record that this arrangement continued without break until theold couple were finally laid to rest in the churchyard beside poor JimTravers who had passed on long before.
Among the wedding presents to the bride was the locket and chain which sheherself had taken from her neck years previous, when drowning in the NorthRiver, and linked about the button on the coat of her rescuer. She and herparents were amazed beyond measure as they stood with only her smilinghusband present, examining the treasure.
"It is the same," said the wondering mother, opening the locket, andlooking at the childish features, "the very one you wore about your neckon that awful night."
"But where did it come from?" asked the father, taking it from his wife'shand, and examining it with an interest that can hardly be described.
"There is no name with it," added Jennie, "and--do you know anything aboutit, Tom?" she asked abruptly, turning short upon him.
"Didn't I tell you years ago, when you related the story, that the boywould turn up sooner or later. Well, he has done so, and what of it?"
"But where is he?"
He opened his arms, and the proud, happy bride rushed into his embrace,while the parents stared, not able quite to understand what it all meant.
"Yes," said he, looking around, "I was the fortunate boy who jumped intothe water after you, and found that chain wound round the button of mycoat. I have kept it and the locket ever since, but I never knew you werethe original until I heard the story from your lips."
"You scamp!" exclaimed Mr. Warmore. "And you never said a word about it."
"Yes, you mean fellow, why didn't you tell us?" demanded Jennie, disposedto pout.
"You were sure you would know the young gentleman; and I meant that if Iever gained your love you should love me for myself, and not for anyaccident of the past."
"But--but how jolly it would have been if we had known it was you! For yousee I have had two heroes all along. One was you, and the other was thatunknown boy who took a plunge in the icy river for my sake."
"You may have those two heroes still," said Tom.
"So I have; but now the two are one."
"And so are _we_," he added, touching his lips to the sweet mouth that didnot refuse to meet them.
"And any way, I could not love you a bit more than I have all along."
And the grateful, happy fellow, in looking back over his stormy boyhoodand young manhood, and feeling how strongly he had striven at all times tolive by the Golden Rule, knew in his heart that it was to that fact thathe had Fought the Battle that Won.
* * * * *
The second volume in the "Brave and Honest" Series is entitled "HonestNed."
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