Kitabı oku: «Phoebe Daring», sayfa 11

CHAPTER XXIII
HOW A WRONG LOOKED RIGHT

Janet Ferguson came in a moment later, having promptly answered Phoebe’s summons. After greeting her in his kindly way the governor said:

“I’m puzzled about your father’s keys. What happened to them the day following his death? Tell me, please?”

Janet tried to remember.

“Usually he left his office key at the post office, but carried the bunch of small keys on his person,” she replied. “Father was very absent-minded at times, and I think he was not feeling quite himself the evening before – before his attack. For it seems he hung his key ring, containing all the keys, on the peg inside the post office window, instead of leaving just the office key. But the next morning Hazel Chandler discovered the keys and brought them to me – all except the office key, which was left hanging upon the peg. That key Mr. Chandler afterward turned over to Mr. Spaythe, to whom Toby Clark also gave his office key.”

“And the smaller keys – the ones that unlocked the cupboard and the private boxes, such as Mrs. Ritchie’s?”

“When Hazel brought them to me I asked her to carry them to Mr. Spaythe, and I understand she did so. She delivered them to him on her way back to the post office.”

“Of course. It is all very clear and comprehensive now, Miss Ferguson. I thank you. I am not making an official investigation of this case, you understand. Phoebe and I have concocted a little conspiracy to arrive at the truth and we are doing our best to clear up the mystery of Mrs. Ritchie’s lost box – for personal reasons only.”

“I know that Phoebe has been anxious to save Toby Clark,” said Janet earnestly; “and I am also anxious. Can I assist you in any way?”

“Not at present. If we need you again we will let you know.”

So Janet went away and the governor also dismissed Sam Parsons, telling the constable he might continue to guard his secret until otherwise instructed. Then Cousin John briskly rose and said to Phoebe:

“Let us go and call on Dave Hunter.”

The girl dreaded that interview, remembering her last defiant visit to the telegraph operator; but she knew it could not be avoided. Already she was amazed at the ease with which the governor fitted together the pieces of her puzzle, and she was eager to see what link in the evidence Dave could furnish.

They found the young fellow alone in his office. He recognized the governor at a glance, for through the exchange of telegrams the operator knew he was due to arrive in Riverdale that morning and why he had come. At once Dave’s face hardened and his jaws locked together with firm obstinacy. But the governor, noting these signs of opposition, merely smiled.

“Hunter, my lad,” said he, “I’d like to dance at your wedding. I’m not sure you’ll invite me, and I’m not sure I could come if invited; but what I mean to assert is that I’d really like to help you celebrate that important event. Eh?”

Dave seemed confused. He had no answer ready for this form of attack.

“There appear to be certain complications, however, which at present stand in the way of your ambition,” continued the governor in an amiable tone. “Hazel has a fine nature and a gentle heart, but her character isn’t fully developed yet and, in a late emergency, she allowed herself to be led astray. She knew there was a great deal of money in Mrs. Ritchie’s box; her father had once seen it and talked of it in the family circle; so when the judge carelessly left all his keys in the post office, one evening, Hazel was tempted and didn’t stop to consider consequences. She was sick and tired of the drudgery she was enduring and knew she could not be married to you until you had acquired more money; so she foolishly yielded to the temptation and at night, when she locked up her store and the post office, she visited Judge Ferguson’s office, unlocked the cupboard, took down Mrs. Ritchie’s box and carried it home. In the seclusion of her room she found the key to the box, opened it and dumped the contents on the bed. The last thing to tumble out was a long yellow envelope marked ‘Private,’ and Hazel hastily tore this open, with the idea that it contained money. Finding it to be merely a legal document, in which she was not interested, she tossed it back into the box. Understand, Hunter, I won’t vouch for the accuracy of every detail of this story; but in the main you know it is correct.”

Dave’s eyes were fairly bulging from their sockets as he stared at the governor and heard him lay bare a secret he thought had been faithfully guarded.

“You – you’ve seen Hazel?” he stammered.

“No; not yet. But let me continue. That night, perhaps fearing interruption, the girl had no chance to examine the contents of the box, which she hid somewhere in her room. Next day she took the box down town with her, wishing to get rid of it, and managed during the afternoon to return it to Judge Ferguson’s office. But she had no time to put it back in the cupboard, because she had left the post office downstairs alone. So she simply placed it on the table and afterward got rid of the keys as soon as possible.

“No one suspected her. Toby Clark was suspected, but not Hazel Chandler. Yet Hazel was in a quandary. She had in her possession a great deal of money, some valuable bonds, and a lot of useless papers belonging to Mrs. Ritchie. Naturally she confided in her sweetheart, not realizing even yet the seriousness of her offense, but rather exulting in the fact that this money would hasten her wedding day. The young man to whom she was engaged, however, listened to her story with horror and despair. He realized the enormity of the girl’s crime and knew that its discovery meant prison for her, a broken heart for him, and ruined lives for them both.”

Dave’s stern features had gradually relaxed to an expression of abject misery. At the vivid scene conjured up by his accuser he sobbed aloud and dropped his face in his hands. But the governor quietly continued:

“The young man’s plight was indeed pitiful, but his poignant sorrow blurred his reason and led him to a subterfuge so cruel and unmanly that his error was scarcely less iniquitous than Hazel’s. To save the girl he loved he endeavored to throw the burden of guilt on an innocent person, a friendless boy and a cripple. He was not the first to accuse Toby Clark, but Toby’s arrest gave him the idea. Forcing Hazel to give to him the entire contents of the rifled box, he selected all the papers that were of no value to anyone but the owner and hid then in the back room of the shanty. Then, to make sure they would be found, he wrote anonymous letters to two parties whom he thought would be interested in the search, telling where the papers were hidden.”

The governor paused a moment.

“I am not sure,” said he, “why you retained the money and bonds, Hunter. You may have had some vague idea of keeping them, at the time; but afterward I am sure you thought better of it, for you gave up the stolen money, again implicating Toby Clark.”

“I – I wanted to give it all up in the beginning,” groaned Dave, in broken, pleading accents; “but I was bewildered, then – I’ve been bewildered ever since, I think – and the thought came to me that if Hazel should be arrested I would need money to defend her. I didn’t much care what I did, if only I could manage to save Hazel. But – after a time – I thought the danger had passed and no one would now connect her with the theft; so I wanted to get rid of the money, which was a horror to me. I thought the best way was to put it in Toby’s house, as I did the papers.”

“I follow your argument,” said the governor. “Had you been more experienced in crime you would have known that the greatest danger of discovery lay in those anonymous letters. Such things are very easily traced. Do you know that Phoebe Daring was able to connect you with this crime by means of those very letters? As a matter of fact, however, they did not lead to the discovery that Hazel Chandler took Mrs. Ritchie’s box. Two different people saw her carry it home; yet I suppose she has imagined she escaped observation.”

“She – she seemed quite sure of that, sir.”

“No doubt. The criminal is always blind. If the time ever comes when everyone realizes that the law is more clever than the individual, that justice is rampant and will not be denied and that punishment follows an undiscovered crime as surely as if it were discovered, then indeed humanity may shrink from committing lawless acts. The more inexperienced and simple-minded the offender, the more certain he or she is of outwitting all the rest of the world. As a consequence, our prisons are crowded and our trial courts cost us millions of dollars annually. It is so much more simple and safe to obey the laws of humanity and of nations, that I wonder people do not prefer to walk uprightly.”

Dave had no reply to this, although there is no doubt he frankly admitted its truth. He now knew that the governor and Phoebe, and doubtless others, were in possession of the secret he had guarded so jealously, and in this crisis his thoughts were all of the girl he loved and had sought to shield.

“Sir,” he said after a moment, “is there any way in which I can assume all the punishment? Suppose that I confess that I stole Mrs. Ritchie’s box; will you and Phoebe help me to carry out the deception and take Toby Clark’s place?”

“Why, that is what you should have done in the beginning,” said Cousin John. “Now it is too late for such vicarious atonement.”

Again Dave groaned.

“Mrs. Ritchie has all her property now,” he asserted. “Don’t you suppose she could be induced to save Hazel?”

“No; I do not.”

“It – it’s going to wreck a lot of lives, sir – the publicity and disgrace. The poor girl didn’t know what she was doing; indeed, sir, that is the truth. She – she’s sorry enough now. We’ve both suffered bitterly and – and been severely punished already. But I’ll take more punishment; I’ll do anything, sir, to keep Hazel out of it and save her and her people from infamy.”

“I can’t promise you anything, Hunter,” said the governor, evident sympathy in his tone. “I’m sorry for you. You were drawn into this thing merely because you are fond of the girl, and I admire you for standing by your sweetheart, through thick and thin. The faults you have committed, in striving to compel an innocent boy to suffer, are far from admirable; yet you have not a strong nature and there are many who might have acted just as you did. I will say this: if it can be arranged to clear Toby Clark in the eyes of all the world without condemning Hazel Chandler, I shall try to do so. Our first care will be to save Toby; afterward I will do what I can for Hazel.”

Dave was grateful for this promise and seized the governor’s hand in both his own to press it warmly.

“At present,” said Cousin John, “Phoebe and I alone are in possession of all the facts I have related. The two persons who saw Hazel take the box seem as anxious to shield her from public condemnation as you are. So I think you may hope for the best.”

With this they left the telegraph office and walked up the street.

“Where next?” asked Phoebe curiously. She had, by this time, so supreme a confidence in Cousin John’s ability to pick up scattered threads and smooth out all tangles that in her heart she believed the truth had now been laid bare in its entirety and thought nothing remained but to confirm the facts already gathered.

“We will see Mr. Spaythe next,” the great man replied.

CHAPTER XXIV
HOW THE MYSTERY CLEARED

It was only a few minutes walk to the bank and Mr. Spaythe received them in his private office, expressing little surprise at seeing the governor again in Riverdale but welcoming him with frank cordiality.

When they were seated the banker looked at his visitors with polite inquiry.

“I’m helping Phoebe get the facts in this Toby Clark case,” said the governor, speaking easily and as to an equal, for he knew Mr. Spaythe’s record and reputation. “In her confidences to me concerning the peculiar circumstances surrounding this affair, which seems to have worn a veil of mystery from the first, she has mentioned the paper you found in the Ritchie box.”

The banker bowed but remained silent.

“There has been raised a great hue and cry for that paper, on the part of Mrs. Ritchie and her attorney,” continued the speaker; “therefore we may consider the document of prime importance to the old lady. When it fell into your hands you hypothecated it and carefully locked it in your safe; further evidence of its importance. Phoebe has concluded, from your unconditional defense of the accused boy, that you believe him innocent, in the first place, and also that the document referred to is in some way connected with – Toby Clark.”

Mr. Spaythe smiled.

“It’s difficult to keep a secret from Phoebe,” he replied.

“For my own part,” the governor resumed, “I have figured from your long silence regarding the paper that you have been investigating its validity or for some reason have been seeking outside information concerning it. I hope I am not in any way forcing your hand by asking if my surmise is correct and if you have yet received the information you desire.”

“Allow me to add that it is difficult to keep a secret from the governor,” laughed Mr. Spaythe. “Really, sir, you and Phoebe have guessed so much that you are entitled to know more, and fortunately my first information of value concerning this paper reached me but a few hours ago, in the morning’s mail.”

“Through my interest in my Cousin Judith I became acquainted with Phoebe Daring,” said Cousin John. “Through my interest in Phoebe I became acquainted with the sad plight of Toby Clark, and my interest in humanity at large induced me to ‘play hookey’ from the business of governing this exacting state, long enough to run down here and help things to a climax. So, sir, as my time is limited, I – ”

“It will afford me pleasure to confide in you with the utmost frankness,” said the banker. “I would like you to know all that I know.”

“Thank you. I may say that we have finally run down the guilty party and are now certain that Toby Clark’s case will never come to trial.”

“Indeed!” exclaimed Mr. Spaythe. “Then you have solved a very perplexing mystery.”

“Have you had no hint of the truth?” inquired the governor.

“Not the slightest, although I have several times suspected my lawyer, a man named Holbrook.”

“And a very well meaning young fellow,” added the governor. “I think, from the information I have received, that Holbrook has conducted himself in a manly way that is distinctly creditable. But may I ask how you expected to save Toby Clark from prison without knowing who committed the fault of which he stands accused, and in the face of a mass of incriminating evidence against him?”

“Yes; I expected to save him through Mrs. Ritchie.”

“You can compel her to withdraw the charge?”

“Mrs. Ritchie is completely in my power. Would you mind telling me who first took the box from the judge’s cupboard?”

“A weak and thoughtless girl – Hazel Chandler – who was tempted to steal the money that she might sooner wed the young man to whom she was engaged.”

“Dear me. Hazel Chandler! How unfortunate.”

“There is a general disposition, among those who know the facts, to shield her,” suggested the governor. “The girl has already been punished – through fear, personal remorse and the reproaches of her fiancé. I can see no benefits to the public at large nor to the interest of justice to be gained by casting this foolish girl into prison. Her redemption, if redemption is still needed, may be better accomplished in other ways.”

“I quite agree with you, sir; and I think that between us we may find a way to restore Toby Clark’s reputation to its former purity without drawing Hazel Chandler into the mire. When Mrs. Ritchie knows that her treachery and embezzlements have been discovered, I think she can be induced to sign a statement that her box was not stolen at all.”

“I see your point, Mr. Spaythe. And now please tell us about that paper.”

The banker excused himself a moment and went into the counting room, in the rear of which stood a large safe. From a drawer which he unlocked he took a paper and with it returned to his private office.

“Although this document has been for years in Judge Ferguson’s keeping,” began Mr. Spaythe, “its character and contents were unknown to him, for before she placed it in her box Mrs. Ritchie enclosed it in a heavy yellow envelope which she sealed and marked ‘private.’ The girl who took the box tore open the envelope, perhaps thinking it contained money, and so enabled me to make a discovery that otherwise might never have come to light. The moment I saw this paper I became interested, for it is a will, properly probated and attested, and on the outside it is docketed: ‘Last Will and Testament of Alonzo Clark.’”

“Alonzo Clark?” echoed Phoebe; “why, who was he, sir?”

“The father of Toby Clark. I knew him very slightly during the years preceding his death, when he lived at Riverdale. He once attempted to borrow some money from the bank on some mining stock which I considered worthless; so I refused him. He was a relative of Mrs. Ritchie.”

“I never knew that!” cried Phoebe, surprised.

“Nor I, until recently,” replied the banker. “This document which I now hold bequeaths to Alonzo Clark’s only child, Toby Clark, all of his interest in that mining stock, making Mrs. Ritchie the executor and providing that in case the stock becomes valuable and pays dividends it must not be sold or otherwise disposed of, but the proceeds shall be devoted to the education of Toby and the balance reserved until he is of age, when it is all to be turned over to him. During the minority of Toby, Mrs. Ritchie is to properly educate and clothe him and she is authorized to retain ten per cent of the income in payment for her services as trustee.”

“You say the stock is worthless?” asked the governor.

“I thought it was, at the time Alonzo Clark brought it to me; but when first I saw this paper I found that the will had been probated and Mrs. Ritchie duly appointed executor and trustee under its terms. That fact, and the woman’s eagerness to recover the paper, led me to suspect that the stock had become valuable; so I retained the will and began to investigate both the mine and the history of Alonzo Clark. As I told you, the first important report of these investigations reached me to-day. I will briefly relate to you their purport, rather than ask you to wade through the verbose mass of evidence submitted.”

“That will be best, I think,” agreed the governor.

“Alonzo Clark was a mining engineer of education and ability, who was employed by large corporations as an expert, to examine mines and report upon their value. He successfully pursued this vocation for several years and came to be regarded as a reliable judge of both copper and gold mines. Then he met with a misfortune. While in a rough mining camp in Arizona he fell in love with a plump, pretty girl – the daughter of one of the superintendents – and married her. She became Toby’s mother and proved far beneath her husband in both refinement and intellect. At about the same time that he married, Clark conceived what he thought a clever idea to make his fortune. Being sent to examine an outlying mine that had never been developed, he found it to contain the richest deposit of copper he had ever known of – so rich, in fact, that it was destined to become one of the greatest copper mines in America. A company of capitalists would purchase and develop this mine if Clark reported on it favorably. He forwarded them some very ordinary specimens of ore and said he believed the mine would pay a fair profit if worked economically, but he predicted no big things of it. Then he set to work to invest every dollar he had in the world in stock of this very mine, and he was able to secure a large quantity because his discouraging report had failed to inspire the promoters with any degree of enthusiasm. Then the schemer became properly punished, for the men who had formed the company got possession of another mine that promised better, but in which Clark had no interest, and devoted their exclusive attention to working that. Clark dared not argue the matter with them, for he had declared the rich mine to be unimportant, so he was obliged to wait until the company was ready to develop it, when he knew it would speedily make him rich.

“This affair ruined the engineer’s life – that, and his wife’s dissolute habits, for she became addicted to drink and her companionship was not pleasant. Clark had beggared himself by his large purchase of stock and his vain dreams of wealth speedily destroyed his usefulness in his profession. In a few years he lost all ambition, became discredited in mining circles and finally drifted here, perhaps being attracted to Riverdale by the fact that a distant cousin – the only relative I have been able to trace – lived near here in the person of Mrs. Ritchie, a widow with a large and prosperous farm.

“It seems that Mrs. Ritchie, however, would do nothing to assist the impoverished Clarks, who had brought their little son Toby with them. She even doubted the man’s story about his rich mine, which he declared would some day bring him a fortune. She is very shrewd in business matters and knew that mining stock is dangerous to gamble on. Clark did a little work in the village, but not much, for he was incapable of steady manual labor. He fished a good deal in the river and won the name of being lazy, surly and unsocial. As a matter of fact he was a disappointed man and had fallen rapidly in the social scale. His wife soon drank herself to death and a year or so afterward Clark contracted pneumonia on the river and soon passed away, having previously made his will and given it to Mrs. Ritchie for safe keeping.

“Toby was a much neglected boy, as you may imagine,” continued Mr. Spaythe, after a brief pause. “Mrs. Ritchie ignored his very existence and after his father’s death the little fellow continued to reside in the shanty by the river – a ragged, barefooted urchin whom everyone liked because he was so sunny natured and agreeable. He inherited his father’s intellect but not his misanthropic ideas. Toby was not only willing, but glad to work and earned a modest living by doing odd jobs until, finally, Judge Ferguson noticed him and took charge of the boy. I think, governor, I have now given you the entire Clark history.”

“But the mine?” said the governor, greatly interested in the story.

“By a queer whim of fate the mine was developed soon after Alonzo Clark’s death and its enormous wealth became a seven days’ wonder. I believe it is to-day reputed one of the best paying mines on this continent, which proves that the engineer knew what he was doing when he invested his all in its stock. Mrs. Ritchie evidently heard of the great mine, for she had Clark’s will probated and applied for letters of administration, which were granted her. For several years she has been receiving dividends on the stock – which is worth a fortune to Toby, by the way – and yet the woman has kept her secret and the money to herself. Never a penny has been applied to Toby’s needs or to his education.”

“Oh, how dreadful!” exclaimed Phoebe, who was really shocked at this recital of Mrs. Ritchie’s perfidy.

“Her intention. I suppose,” said the banker, “was to continue to retain these receipts for herself. Toby had no other relatives to interfere in his behalf; he was too young at the time of his father’s death to know anything about the mine, and I doubt if he knew – or yet knows – that he is in any way related to Mrs. Ritchie. The deception might have continued indefinitely had not the box been stolen and so, by a chain of curious accidents, the will of Alonzo Clark discovered by those interested in Toby.”

After the banker had concluded his relation all three were silent for a time, pondering on the remarkable discovery. Then Phoebe said:

“I cannot understand, in view of the fact that Mrs. Ritchie was deliberately robbing Toby, why she was so bitter against him, or why she had him arrested and is even now trying to send him to prison.”

“That is a natural sequence, my dear,” replied the governor. “The woman has been greatly worried over the loss of this document, which, falling into certain hands – such as those of Mr. Spaythe – would perhaps lead to the discovery of her perversion of trust funds, which is a very serious crime. Perhaps she thinks that in some way Toby Clark has himself gained possession of the will, but believes that if he is discredited and put in prison he cannot appear against her. Without Mr. Spaythe’s exhaustive researches no one in Riverdale would be likely to know that the mine described in the elder Clark’s will had become valuable. The will itself would mean little or nothing to Toby unless he had opportunity to investigate his father’s bequest. There was a fair chance of Mrs. Ritchie’s evading detection, even with the will missing; but Toby in prison would be more safe to her interests than Toby at liberty.”

“Toby mustn’t go to prison,” declared Phoebe, with energy.

“Certainly not,” replied Mr. Spaythe. “The boy must regain the position in society to which he is fully entitled.”

“Can’t we do anything to Mrs. Ritchie?” she asked.

“We’ll try,” said the governor, looking at his watch. “Just now dinner is waiting at the Daring mansion and I promised Judith I’d not forget it. But this afternoon I’d like to drive over with you, Mr. Spaythe, to see the woman.”

“I will be glad to accompany you,” replied the banker. “We close at one o’clock on Saturday, you know; so at two, if you will be ready, I will call for you with my motor car.”

“That will be quite satisfactory,” said the governor, rising. Then he hesitated a moment. “May we take Phoebe with us?” he asked. “She has been so interested in this affair and has already accomplished so much in Toby’s behalf that I think she is entitled to be present at the climax.”

“I think so, too,” answered Mr. Spaythe readily. “Do you care to go, Phoebe?”

“Yes, if you please.”

Then she and Cousin John went home to dinner and the youngsters, who suspected something important was under way, were able to drag no information from their big sister beyond mysterious looks and sundry shakes of the head, which of course aroused their curiosity to the highest pitch.

“I think you might tell us, Phoebe,” pouted Sue, disconsolately. “I always tell you my secrets.”

Cousin John laughed.

“Listen, then,” said he. “We’ve discovered that Toby Clark is innocent and that we can prove it; so he is no longer in danger of prison. That’s more than Toby Clark knows yet. Furthermore, we have discovered that Toby is not a mere nobody, as everyone has considered him, but the owner of considerable valuable property. I say ‘we’ have discovered this, but really it was Phoebe who solved the whole mystery. Now, if you can keep this secret for a few days, until the newspaper prints the complete story, I’ll take you into my confidence the next time I know a secret.”

Don cheered and Becky clapped her hands in delight, while Sue cried ecstatically: “Bully for Toby!” and was promptly repressed by Phoebe, who was annoyed by such a wild demonstration in the presence of the great man. But Cousin John seemed to enjoy the outburst.

Judith has listened gravely and seemed surprised.

“Is this indeed the truth?” she asked.

“Part of it,” replied the governor. “When Phoebe and I return from a little trip this afternoon you shall have the entire story, with all the details. You see, we’re rehearsing a little show of our own. The play isn’t entirely finished yet, for the last act is on and we must corner the villain before the final curtain falls.”

This contented them for the time, for they really believed they had been taken into the great man’s confidence; but when Mr. Spaythe’s automobile drew up at the door and Phoebe and the governor entered it, they were followed by envious looks and much speculation among the Darings as to their errand.

“I hope,” said Sue, anxiously, “the villain won’t hurt Phoebe.”

“Pshaw!” returned Don, with scorn, “villains never amount to anything; they’re only put in a play to be knocked out in the last round.”