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Chester Rand; or, The New Path to Fortune, a fiction by Horatio Alger |
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Chapter 31. A Day Of Surprises |
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_ CHAPTER XXXI. A DAY OF SURPRISES The bookkeeper looked amazed. He turned to Felix. "Was this package given you at the bank?" he asked. "Yes," answered Felix. "I don't understand it. Do you think they suspected anything?" he continued, turning to Ralston. "What could they suspect?" growled Dick. "It's a pretty trick for a respectable bank to play on a customer." "Was all the money bogus?" asked Mullins. "Here are a hundred dollars in good bills." "Have you opened any of the other packages?" "No, but I will." The gambler tore off a little of the outer paper from the five-hundred-dollar and two-hundred-dollar packages, only to discover that their contents were no more valuable than those of the first bundle. "I'd like to know what all this means," said Ralston. "Is it a trick of yours?" he demanded, looking suspiciously at Mullins. "No. On my honor, no. It is very puzzling. They must have made a mistake at the bank." "Send the boy back." "It won't do. He has already reported that he has been robbed. It's--it's very awkward." "You must do something," said Dick Ralston, harshly. "I'm not going to be swindled in this way." It was at this point that the office door was heard to open. Mr. Sharpleigh entered and fixed his glance on Ralston. "Mr. Mullins," he said, "you wish to know who robbed your office boy of the money he drew from the bank?" "Yes," faltered Mullins. "There he stands!" answered Sharpleigh, calmly, pointing to Ralston. "It's a--lie!" exclaimed the gambler, but he turned pale. "I saw the robbery with my own eyes." went on the detective, "and----" he turned his eyes to the door, which opened to admit a stalwart policeman. "Arrest that man!" said the detective. "He lay in wait for the office boy, and on his return from the bank robbed him of a large sum of money which he had just drawn out." "Who are you?" demanded Ralston, trying to brazen it out. "I am James Sharpleigh, a detective." Mullins listened in dismay, for Sharpleigh's name was familiar to him as one of the cleverest detectives in the city. "And who authorized you to meddle in a matter that did not concern you?" The answer came from an unexpected quarter. Mr. Fairchild, valise in hand and dusty with travel, entered the office. He heard the question, and quickly comprehended the situation. "It is nearly two weeks," he said, "since I engaged Mr. Sharpleigh to watch what was going on in the office. Chester Rand telegraphed me that he had been discharged, and my suspicions were excited." "So it's that boy!" muttered the bookkeeper, spitefully. "I left all to the discretion of my friend Sharpleigh, who has justified my confidence. I shall have to ask him to throw light on the present situation." This the detective did in a few brief sentences. "Am I to arrest this man?" asked the policeman. "Yes," answered the broker, sternly. "Mr. Sharpleigh, will you accompany the officer and prefer charges?" "See here," said Ralston, with an ugly look, "I'm not going to be a scapegoat. Your bookkeeper put up this job." Mr. Fairchild turned slowly and regarded David Mullins attentively. "I will bear in mind what you say," he answered. "I took nothing of value," continued Ralston, "and you can't hold me. Here are three packages filled with green paper." "Yes," said Sharpleigh, "the bank teller was acting under my instructions. I took care, however, to have one roll of genuine bills." When the three had left the office Mr. Fairchild turned to the bookkeeper. "Mr. Mullins," he said, "what could induce you to engage in such a wicked plot?" "I don't admit any complicity in the affair," replied the bookkeeper, in a surly tone. "Have you seen Chester Rand lately?" "I saw him last evening at the Fifth Avenue Hotel." "Why did you discharge him?" "I thought him unfit for his place." "There may be a difference of opinion on that point. This boy," he added, significantly, "is a relative of yours, I believe." "Yes." "Will you give me an idea of what has been done during my absence?" Together the broker and the bookkeeper went over the books. Then Mr. Fairchild went out to dinner. He was no sooner out of the office than Mullins said: "Felix, remain here till Mr. Fairchild returns. I am going out on an errand." He opened the safe, drew therefrom a small package and left the office. Half an hour later he was on a Cortlandt Street ferryboat bound for the Jersey shore. The package which he took with him contained four hundred dollars in bills, which he had drawn from the bank the day previous without the knowledge of his confederate. He had been providing for contingencies. When Mr. Fairchild returned Felix delivered the message. The broker at once looked suspicious. "Did Mr. Mullins say where he was going?" he asked. "Yes, sir. He said he was going out on an errand." "Did he take anything with him?" "I didn't observe, sir." When Sharpleigh came in a little later he looked about him inquiringly. "Where's Mullins?" "I don't think we shall see him again very soon," and the broker told the detective what he knew about his disappearance. Sharpleigh shrugged his shoulders. "He has been too sharp for us," he said. "Do you want me to do anything?" "No; his loss of place and reputation will be a sufficient punishment." At the close of the day Felix said: "I suppose you don't want me any more." "You can stay till the end of the week. I have not had time to form any plans." "Do--do you think Cousin David will come back?" "I think it very improbable," said the broker, seriously. "Can you throw any light on the events of to-day?" "Yes, sir." "Go on. Was the robbery planned?" "Yes, sir. I was to receive twenty-five dollars for my share." "I believe you know Chester Rand?" "Yes, sir." "Do you know where he lives?" "Yes, sir." "Will you ask him to call here to-morrow?" "I will, sir; but he tells me he has a good place, and would not care to return." "I am aware of that. It is possible I may retain you----" "Oh, sir, if you would!" "On condition that you agree to serve me faithfully." This was quite beyond the expectations of Felix. "I will try to do so," he said, earnestly. "You have begun well by confessing your share in the plot which came so near being successful. As your day's work is ended, I will consider the errand on which I am sending you extra, and will pay you for it." The broker handed a half dollar to Felix, which he accepted joyfully. "I don't much care if Cousin David has gone away," he soliloquized. "Mr. Fairchild seems a good sort of man, and I'll do my best to please him." When Felix was ushered into Chester's presence the latter was just finishing a comic sketch for _The Phoenix_. "What's that?" asked Felix, in surprise, for he was quite unaware of Chester's artistic gifts. Chester showed it to him with a smile. "Now you see how I am making my living," he said. "Do you get pay for that?" "Yes, certainly." Then Felix bethought himself of his errand. "There's a great row at the office," he said. "Mr. Fairchild has got home, Cousin David has run away and Mr. Ralston is arrested." "That's a budget of news. When did Mr. Fairchild return?" "This forenoon. He wants you to call to-morrow." "All right. I will do so." "And if he offers you back your old place you won't take it?" said Felix, anxiously. "If you don't, I think he'll keep me." "Then I'll promise not to accept. I am better satisfied where I am. Have you had supper, Felix?" "No." "Then come and take supper with me. I go out about this time." "It had certainly been a day of surprises," as Felix reflected when he found himself seated opposite a boy whom he had always disliked, as his guest. _ |
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