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Five Hundred Dollars; or, Jacob Marlowe's Secret, a novel by Horatio Alger |
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Chapter 14. Bert Stands Trial |
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_ CHAPTER XIV. BERT STANDS TRIAL Percy went to bed early, and heard nothing of Bert's arrest for the theft which he had himself committed till at the breakfast table the next morning his father said: "Well, young Barton has got into a bad scrape." "What is it, father?" asked Percy, pricking up his ears. "He is charged with stealing a twenty-dollar bill from Mr. Jones, the store-keeper." This was certainly amazing, and Percy, in his agitation, nearly choked with some coffee that went the wrong way. "Be more careful, Percy!" said his mother sharply. "I was so surprised, mother, at what father told me," apologized Percy. "I don't know why you need be surprised," said Mrs. Marlowe. "I never had a very good opinion of the boy." "How did it happen?" asked Percy, curious to know how suspicion could have fallen upon Bert. "It appears that Mr. Jones laid a twenty-dollar bill on his desk--a very careless proceeding, by the way--while he was waiting upon a customer in another part of the store. About five minutes afterward the Barton boy called upon him to fill a small can with kerosene, and actually had the hardihood to offer his own twenty-dollar bill in payment." "Bert Barton offered Mr. Jones a twenty-dollar bill?" asked Percy, in great surprise. "Yes; no wonder you are surprised at his boldness." "Perhaps it wasn't the same bill," Percy was constrained to suggest. "You must be a fool, Percy. Where else could he have got so large a bill as that? We all know how poor the Bartons are. Besides, the bill on the desk had disappeared." Percy was silent for a moment. He felt bewildered, and could not understand it at all. He knew very well that it was not the same bill. But where did the other bill come from? How happened a poor boy like Bert Barton to have such a large bill in his possession? That was certainly mysterious. "Was--was Bert arrested?" he asked, in a hesitating tone. "He would have been but for the interference of a meddlesome young lawyer, who, it appears, is staying at the hotel." "Mr. Conway?" "I believe that is his name. He offered to defend the Barton boy, and would not permit him to be arrested." Percy was glad to hear this. He was mean and selfish, but he was not mean enough to wish Bert to suffer for a crime of which he knew him to be innocent. "What was done, then?" he asked, after a pause. "The boy was allowed to go home, but his trial is to take place before me this morning at ten o'clock. You can be present, if you desire." "I--don't--know as I do," said Percy. His father looked surprised. "I thought you would be eager to be there," he said. "I may come in," said Percy; "but I am sorry for Bert, and I should not like to see him under arrest." "You are too good-hearted, Percy," said his mother. "I am sure I hope the boy did not do what is charged, though I don't think there is the slightest doubt of it; but if he is guilty I want him punished. That is the only way to protect the community from further thefts." "What would mother say if she knew I did it?" thought Percy, shivering. "I wish I hadn't done it." But it was too late to wish that. He had appropriated the money, and it had been paid away. Suppose Reginald Ward should betray him? Percy earnestly hoped that he would leave town before he had a chance to hear of the stolen money, for he felt certain that sharp young man would suspect him of having had something to do with it. As the time drew near, Percy decided that he had better not attend the trial. He was afraid that some one would call to mind that he too had been standing near the desk just before the bill disappeared. He felt nervous and excited. He wished it was all over, and Bert was acquitted. Suppose he were found guilty and sentenced to imprisonment? It would be terrible, Percy admitted to himself; but what could he do? He couldn't confess, and incur the same punishment himself. The very thought made him shudder. He walked about the streets in a very uncomfortable frame of mind till about a quarter of ten. Then he suddenly encountered Bert, who, in company with his lawyer, was on his way to a room in the town hall where the trial was to take place. Bert held his head erect, but his face was flushed with shame at the unpleasant predicament in which he found himself. When he saw Percy approaching he said to himself bitterly: "There is one who will rejoice at my misfortune." What was his surprise, then, when Percy came up with a pleasant smile, and said, "Good-morning, Bert." Bert looked at him sharply, to see if there was anything triumphant in his smile, but Percy's manner was cordial and friendly. "Have you heard of my trouble, Percy?" asked Bert abruptly. "Yes, Bert, and I am very sorry for it." "Do you believe me guilty?" "No, I don't," returned Percy, and he offered his hand. "Thank you, Percy," said Bert, moved in spite of himself. "I misjudged you. If _you_ don't believe me guilty, I hope others won't. Are you going to the trial?" "I wasn't thinking of doing so, but I will walk with you as far as the town hall." There was quite a crowd gathered near the entrance to the building, for it was generally known that Bert was to be tried for the theft that morning. Some of those composing it--in fact most--were Bert's friends; but there were a few who delighted in scandal and looked forward with eagerness to hearing the details, and did not care much how Bert might be affected by it. The surprise was general when Bert approached, apparently in friendly converse with Percy Marlowe, a boy whose want of cordial feeling toward him was generally known. The occasion was a trial for Bert, but Percy's unexpected friendliness sustained him, though he had not got over his surprise at it. All parties entered the court-room, and presently Squire Marlowe himself appeared. He walked with dignity to the platform, and took his seat behind the desk over which justice was dispensed. "Who is the complainant in this case?" he asked. "I am, squire," said Mr. Jones, advancing eagerly. "State your case." "I charge this boy--Bert Barton--with stealing a twenty-dollar bill from my desk last evening." "Have you counsel?" "No, squire. The case is plain, and I can manage it myself." "I represent the defendant," said the young lawyer Conway. "You are a lawyer, are you?" asked Squire Marlowe, frowning. "Yes, sir." "Have you any evidence or certificate to show this?" "I can prove it, if necessary; but I will venture to suggest that your doubts on the subject are very singular, and that, lawyer or no lawyer, I am at liberty to appear for the defendant if he desires it." Squire Marlowe coughed and looked displeased at this remark. "State your case, Mr. Jones," he said, after the latter had been sworn. The grocer told the story as it happened, making it bear as heavily against Bert as possible. "Do you wish to ask the witness any questions, Mr. Conway," inquired the judge. "Yes, sir. Mr. Jones, what makes you think my client took your twenty-dollar bill?" "It stands to reason--" commenced the grocer. "Never mind about that! Please stick to facts." "Well, the bill disappeared." "Admitted. Go on." "The Barton boy was standing near the desk." "Did you see him take it?" "No; how could I? My back was turned." "This is important. Then, so far as your knowledge goes, any other person may have taken the bill." "Didn't I tell you that the boy was brazen enough to offer me the same bill in payment for some kerosene which I got for him?" "You are very sure it was the same bill, are you, Mr. Jones?" asked Conway carelessly. "Why, of course it was." "That won't do! How can you prove it was?" "Because," said the grocer triumphantly, "the bill I lost was a twenty-dollar bill, and the bill the boy offered me was a twenty-dollar bill," and Mr. Jones looked around the court-room with a complacent and triumphant smile. Squire Marlowe, judge though he was, gave a little nod, as if to show that he, too, thought the argument was unanswerable. Even Bert's friends in the court-room glanced at each other gravely. It certainly looked bad for our hero. _ |
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