Kitabı oku: «The Store Boy», sayfa 8

CHAPTER XXIII BEN'S VISIT TO THIRTY-FIRST STREET

Ben's evenings being unoccupied, he had no difficulty in meeting the appointment made for him. He was afraid Conrad might ask him to accompany him somewhere, and thus involve the necessity of an explanation, which he did not care to give until he had himself found out why he had been summoned.

The address given by James Barnes was easy to find. Ben found himself standing before a brick building of no uncommon exterior. The second floor seemed to be lighted up; the windows were hung with crimson curtains, which quite shut out a view of what was transpiring within.

Ben rang the bell. The door was opened by a colored servant, who looked at the boy inquiringly.

"Is Mr. Barnes within?" asked Ben.

"I don't know the gentleman," was the answer.

"He sent me a letter, asking me to meet him here at nine o'clock."

"Then I guess it's all right. Are you a telegraph boy?"

"No," answered Ben, in surprise.

"I reckon it's all right," said the negro, rather to himself than to Ben. "Come upstairs."

Ben followed his guide, and at the first landing a door was thrown open. Mechanically, Ben followed the servant into the room, but he had not made half a dozen steps when he looked around in surprise and bewilderment. Novice as he was, a glance satisfied him that he was in a gambling house. The double room was covered with a soft, thick carpet, chandeliers depended from the ceiling, frequent mirrors reflecting the brilliant lights enlarged the apparent size the apartment, and a showy bar at one end of the room held forth an alluring invitation which most failed to resist. Around tables were congregated men, young and old, each with an intent look, watching the varying chances of fortune.

"I'll inquire if Mr. Barnes is here," said Peter, the colored servant.

Ben stood uneasily looking at the scene till Peter came back.

"Must be some mistake," he said. "There's no gentleman of the name of Barnes here."

"It's strange," said Ben, perplexed.

He turned to go out, but was interrupted. A man with a sinister expression, and the muscle of a prize fighter, walked up to him and said, with a scowl:

"What brings you here, kid?"

"I received a letter from Mr. Barnes, appointing to meet me here."

"I believe you are lying. No such man comes here."

"I never lie," exclaimed Ben indignantly.

"Have you got that letter about you?" asked the man suspiciously.

Ben felt in his pocket for the letter, but felt in vain.

"I think I must have left it at home," he said nervously.

The man's face darkened.

"I believe you come here as a spy," he said.

"Then you are mistaken!" said Ben, looking him fearlessly in the face.

"I hope so, for your sake. Do you know what kind of a place this is?"

"I suppose it is a gambling house," Ben answered, without hesitation.

"Did you know this before you came here?"

"I had not the least idea of it."

The man regarded him suspiciously, but no one could look into Ben's honest face and doubt his word.

"At any rate, you've found it out. Do you mean to blab?"

"No; that is no business of mine."

"Then you can go, but take care that you never come here again."

"I certainly never will."

"Give me your name and address."

"Why do you want it?"

"Because if you break your word, you will be tracked and punished."

"I have no fear," answered Ben, and he gave his name and address.

"Never admit this boy again, Peter," said the man with whom Ben had been conversing; neither this boy, nor any other, except a telegraph boy."

"All right, sah."

A minute later, Ben found himself on the street, very much perplexed by the events of the evening. Who could have invited him to a gambling house, and with what object in view? Moreover, why had not James Barnes kept the appointment he had himself made? These were questions which Ben might have been better able to answer if he could have seen, just around the corner, the triumphant look of one who was stealthily watching him.

This person was Conrad Hill, who took care to vacate his position before Ben had reached the place where he was standing.

"So far, so good!" he muttered to himself. "Master Ben has been seen coming out of a gambling house. That won't be likely to recommend him to Mrs. Hamilton, and she shall know it before long."

Ben could not understand what had become of the note summoning him to the gambling house. In fact, he had dislodged it from the vest pocket in which he thrust it, and it had fallen upon the carpet near the desk in what Mrs. Hamilton called her "office." Having occasion to enter the room in the evening, his patroness saw it on the carpet, picked it up, and read it, not without surprise.

"This is a strange note for Ben to receive," she said to herself. "I wonder what it means?"

Of course, she had no idea of the character of the place indicated, but was inclined to hope that some good luck was really in store for her young secretary.

"He will be likely to tell me sooner or later," she said to herself. "I will wait patiently, and let him choose his own time. Meanwhile I will keep the note."

Mrs. Hamilton did not see Ben till the next morning. Then he looked thoughtful, but said nothing. He was puzzling himself over what had happened. He hardly knew whether to conclude that the whole thing was a trick, or that the note was written in good faith.

"I don't understand why the writer should have appointed to meet me at such a place," he reflected. "I may hear from him again."

It was this reflection which led him to keep the matter secret from Mrs. Hamilton, to whom be had been tempted to speak.

"I will wait till I know more," he said to himself. "This Barnes knows my address, and he can communicate with me if he chooses."

Of course, the reader understands that Conrad was at the bottom of the trick, and that the object was to persuade Mrs. Hamilton that the boy she trusted was in the habit of visiting gambling houses. The plan had been suggested by Conrad, and the details agreed on by him and his mother. This explains why Conrad was so conveniently near at hand to see Ben coming out of the gambling house.

The boy reported the success of this plan to his mother.

"I never saw a boy look so puzzled," he said, with a chuckle, "when he came out of the gambling house. I should like to know what sort of time he had there. I expected he would get kicked out."

"I feel no interest in that matter," said his mother. "I am more interested to know what Cousin Hamilton will say when she finds where her model boy has been."

"She'll give him his walking ticket, I hope."

"She ought to; but she seems so infatuated with him that there is no telling."

"When shall you tell her, mother?"

"I will wait a day or two. I want to manage matters so as not to arouse any suspicion."

CHAPTER XXIV BEN ON TRIAL

"Excuse my intrusion, Cousin Hamilton; I see you are engaged."

The speaker was Mrs. Hill, and the person addressed was her wealthy cousin. It was two days after the event recorded in the last chapter.

"I am only writing a note, about which there is no haste. Did you wish to speak to me?"

Mrs. Hamilton leaned back in her chair, and waited to hear what Mrs. Hill had to say. There was very little similarity between the two ladies. One was stout, with a pleasant, benevolent face, to whom not only children, but older people, were irresistibly attracted. The other was thin, with cold, gray eyes, a pursed-up mouth, thin lips, who had never succeeded in winning the affection of anyone. True, she had married, but her husband was attracted by a small sum of money which she possessed, and which had been reported to him as much larger than it really was.

When asked if she wished to speak, Mrs. Hill coughed.

"There's a matter I think I ought to speak of," she said, "but it is painful for me to do so."

"Why is it painful?" asked Mrs. Hamilton, eyeing her steadily.

"Because my motives may be misconstrued. Then, I fear it will give you pain."

"Pain is sometimes salutary. Has Conrad displeased you?"

"No, indeed!" answered Mrs. Hill, half indignantly. "My boy is a great comfort to me."

"I am glad to hear it," said Mrs. Hamilton dryly.

For her own part, Mrs. Hamilton thought her cousin's son one of the least attractive young people she had ever met, and save for a feeling of pity, and the slight claims of relationship, would not have been willing to keep him in the house.

"I don't see why you should have judged so ill of my poor Conrad," complained Mrs. Hill.

"I am glad you are so well pleased with him. Let me know what you have to communicate."

"It is something about the new boy—Benjamin."

Mrs. Hamilton lifted her eyebrows slightly.

"Speak without hesitation," she said.

"You will be sure not to misjudge me?"

"Why should I?"

"You might think I was jealous on account of my own boy."

"There is no occasion for you to be jealous."

"No, of course not. I am sure Conrad and I have abundant cause to be grateful to you."

"That is not telling me what you came to tell," said Mrs. Hamilton impatiently.

"I am afraid you are deceived in the boy, Cousin Hamilton."

"In what respect?"

"I am almost sorry I had not kept the matter secret. If I did not consider it my duty to you, I would have done so."

"Be kind enough to speak at once. You need not apologize, nor hesitate on my account. What has Ben been doing?"

"On Tuesday evening he was seen coming out of a well-known gambling house."

"Who saw him?"

"Conrad."

"How did Conrad know that it was a gambling house?"

"He had had it pointed out to him as such," Mrs. Hill answered, with some hesitation.

"About what time was this?"

"A little after nine in the evening."

"And where was the gambling house situated?"

"On Thirty-first Street."

A peculiar look came over Mrs. Hamilton's face.

"And Conrad reported this to you?"

"The same evening."

"That was Tuesday?"

"Yes; I could not make up my mind to tell you immediately, because I did not want to injure the boy."

"You are more considerate than I should have expected."

"I hope I am. I don't pretend to like the boy. He seems to have something sly and underhand about him. Still, he needs to be employed, and that made me pause."

"Till your sense of duty to me overcame your reluctance?"

"Exactly so, Cousin Hamilton. I am glad you understand so well how I feel about the matter."

Mrs. Hill was quite incapable of understanding the irony of her cousin's last remark, and was inclined to be well pleased with the reception her news had met with.

"Where is Conrad?"

"He is not in the house. He didn't want me to tell you."

"That speaks well for him. I must speak to Ben on the subject."

She rang the bell, and a servant appeared.

"See if Master Ben is in his room," said the lady. "If so ask him to come here for five minutes."

Ben was in the house and in less than two minutes he entered the room. He glanced from one lady to the other in some surprise. Mrs. Hamilton wore her ordinary manner, but Mrs. Hill's mouth was more pursed up than ever. She looked straight before her, and did not look at Ben at all.

"Ben," said Mrs. Hamilton, coming to the point at once, "did you visit a gambling house in Thirty-first Street on Tuesday evening?"

"I did," answered Ben promptly.

Mrs. Hill moved her hands slightly, and looked horror-stricken.

"You must have had some good reason for doing so. I take it for granted you did not go there to gamble?"

"No," answered Ben, with a smile. "That is not in my line."

"What other purpose could he have had, Cousin Hamilton?" put in Mrs.

Hill maliciously.

Ben eyed her curiously.

"Did Mrs. Hill tell you I went there?" he asked.

"I felt it my duty to do so," said that lady, with acerbity. "I dislike to see my cousin so deceived and imposed upon by one she had befriended."

"How did you know I went there, Mrs. Hill?"

"Conrad saw you coming out of the gambling house."

"I didn't see him. It was curious he happened be in that neighborhood just at that time," said Ben significantly.

"If you mean to insinuate that Conrad goes to such places, you are quite mistaken," said Mrs. Hill sharply.

"It was not that I meant to insinuate at all."

"You have not yet told me why you went there, Ben?" said Mrs. Hamilton mildly."

"Because I received a mysterious letter, signed James Barnes, asking me to come to that address about nine o'clock in the evening. I was told I would hear something of advantage to myself."

"Did you meet any such man there?" asked Mrs. Hill.

"No."

"Have you got the letter you speak of?" asked Mrs. Hamilton.

"No," answered Ben. "I must have dropped it somewhere. I felt in my pocket for it when I reached the gambling house, but it was gone."

Mrs. Hill looked fairly triumphant.

"A very queer story!" she said, nodding her head. "I don't believe you received any such letter. I presume you had often been to the same place to misspend your evenings."

"Do you think so, Mrs. Hamilton?" inquired Ben anxiously.

"It is a pity you lost that letter, Ben."

"Yes, it is," answered Ben regretfully.

"Mrs. Hill," said Mrs. Hamilton, "if you will withdraw, I would like to say a few words to Ben in private."

"Certainly, Cousin Hamilton," returned the poor cousin, with alacrity. "I think his race is about run," she said to herself, in a tone of congratulation.

CHAPTER XXV CONRAD TAKES A BOLD STEP

"I hope, Mrs. Hamilton, you don't suspect me of frequenting gambling houses?" said Ben, after his enemy had left the room.

"No," answered Mrs. Hamilton promptly. "I think I know you too well for that."

"I did go on Tuesday evening, I admit," continued Ben. "I saw that Mrs. Hill did not believe it, but it's true. I wish I hadn't lost the letter inviting me there. You might think I had invented the story."

"But I don't, Ben; and, for the best of all reasons, because I found the note on the carpet, and have it in my possession now."

"Have you?" exclaimed Ben gladly.

"Here it is," said the lady, as she produced the note from the desk before her. "It is singular such a note should have been sent you," she added thoughtfully.

"I think so, too. I had no suspicion when I received it, but I think now that it was written to get to into a scrape."

"Then it must have been written by an enemy. Do you know of anyone who would feel like doing you a bad turn?"

"No," answered Ben, shaking his head.

"Do you recognize the handwriting?"

"No; it may have been written by some person I know, but I have no suspicion and no clew as to who it is."

"I think we will let the matter rest for a short time. If we say nothing about it, the guilty person may betray himself."

"You are very kind to keep your confidence in me, Mrs. Hamilton," said Ben gratefully.

"I trust you as much as ever, Ben, but I shall appear not to—for a time."

Ben looked puzzled.

"I won't explain myself," said Mrs. Hamilton, with a smile, "but I intend to treat you coolly for a time, as if you had incurred my displeasure. You need not feel sensitive, however, but may consider that I am acting."

"Then it may be as well for me to act, too," suggested Ben.

"A good suggestion! You will do well to look sober and uneasy."

"I will do my best," answered Ben brightly.

The programme was carried out. To the great delight of Mrs. Hill and Conrad, Mrs. Hamilton scarcely addressed a word to Ben at the supper table. When she did speak, it was with an abruptness and coldness quite unusual for the warm-hearted woman. Ben looked depressed, fixed his eyes on his plate, and took very little part in the conversation. Mrs. Hill and Conrad, on the other hand, seemed in very good spirits. They chatted cheerfully, and addressed an occasional word to Ben. They could afford to be magnanimous, feeling that he had forfeited their rich cousin's favor.

After supper, Conrad went into his mother's room.

"Our plan's working well, mother," he said, rubbing his hands.

"Yes, Conrad, it is. Cousin Hamilton is very angry with the boy. She scarcely spoke a word to him."

"He won't stay long, I'll be bound. Can't you suggest, mother, that he had better be dismissed at once?"

"No, Conrad; we have done all that is needed. We can trust Cousin Hamilton to deal with him. She will probably keep him for a short time, till she can get along without his services."

"It's lucky he lost the letter. Cousin Hamilton will think he never received any."

So the precious pair conferred together. It was clear that Ben had two dangerous and unscrupulous enemies in the house.

It was all very well to anticipate revenge upon Ben, and his summary dismissal, but this did not relieve Conrad from his pecuniary embarrassments. As a general thing, his weekly allowance was spent by the middle of the week. Ben had refused to lend money, and there was no one else he could call upon. Even if our hero was dismissed, there seemed likely to be no improvement in this respect.

At this juncture, Conrad was, unfortunately, subjected to a temptation which proved too strong for him.

Mrs. Hamilton was the possessor of an elegant opera glass, which she had bought some years previous in Paris at a cost of fifty dollars. Generally, when not in use, she kept it locked up in a bureau drawer. It so happened, however, that it had been left out on a return from a matinee, and lay upon her desk, where it attracted the attention of Conrad.

It was an unlucky moment, for he felt very hard up. He wished to go to the theater in the evening with a friend, but had no money.

It flashed upon him that he could raise a considerable sum on the opera glass at Simpson's, a well-known pawnbroker on the Bowery, and he could, without much loss of time, stop there on his way down to business.

Scarcely giving himself time to think, he seized the glass and thrust it into the pocket of his overcoat. Then, putting on his coat, he hurried from the house.

Arrived at the pawnbroker's, he produced the glass, and asked:

"How much will you give me on this?"

The attendant looked at the glass, and then at Conrad.

"This is a very valuable glass," he said. "Is it yours?"

"No," answered Conrad glibly. "It belongs to a lady in reduced circumstances, who needs to raise money. She will be able to redeem it soon."

"Did she send you here?"

"Yes."

"We will loan you twenty dollars on it. Will that be satisfactory?"

"Quite so," answered Conrad, quite elated at the sum, which exceeded his anticipations.

"Shall we make out the ticket to you or the lady?"

"To me. The lady does not like to have her name appear in the matter."

This is so frequently the case that the statement created no surprise.

"What is your name?" inquired the attendant.

"Ben Barclay," answered Conrad readily.

The ticket was made out, the money paid over, and Conrad left the establishment.

"Now I am in funds!" he said to himself, "and there is no danger of detection. If anything is ever found out, it will be Ben who will be in trouble, not I."

It was not long before Mrs. Hamilton discovered her loss. She valued the missing opera glass, for reasons which need not be mentioned, far beyond its intrinsic value, and though she could readily have supplied its place, so far as money was concerned, she would not have been as well pleased with any new glass, though precisely similar, as with the one she had used for years. She remembered that she had not replaced the glass in the drawer, and, therefore, searched for it wherever she thought it likely to have been left. But in vain.

"Ben," she said, "have you seen my glass anywhere about?"

"I think," answered Ben, "that I saw it on your desk."

"It is not there now, but it must be somewhere in the house."

She next asked Mrs. Hill. The housekeeper was entirely ignorant of Conrad's theft, and answered that she had not seen it.

"I ought not to have left it about," said Mrs. Hamilton. "It may have proved too strong a temptation to some one of the servants."

"Or someone else," suggested Mrs. Hill significantly.

"That means Ben," thought Mrs. Hamilton, but she did not say so.

"I would ferret out the matter if I were you," continued Mrs. Hill.

"I intend to," answered Mrs. Hamilton quietly. "I valued the glass far beyond its cost, and I will leave no means untried to recover it."

"You are quite right, too."

When Conrad was told that the opera glass had been lost, he said:

"Probably Ben stole it."

"So I think," assented his mother. "But it will be found out. Cousin Hamilton has put the matter into the hands of a detective."

For the moment, Conrad felt disturbed. But he quickly recovered himself.

"Pshaw! they can't trace it to me," he thought. "They will put it on Ben."