The Tin Box, and What it Contained

CHAPTER XXXIX

HOW CONGREVE SUCCEEDED

Philip would not have felt flattered if he had been able to read thethoughts of his friend James Congreve, when the latter was riding awayfrom the village where he had been boarding, toward the great city.

"That's the last I shall ever see of the young snob, I hope," he said tohimself. "I've got all I can out of him, and now I wash my hands of him. I wish him joy of waiting for me to-night. It'll be many a long daybefore he sees me or the balance of the bonds."

James Congreve settled back in his seat, bought a paper from the paperboy on the train, and began to read in a very comfortable frame ofmind.

From time to time he put his hand on the inside pocket in which he hadplaced the bonds, to make sure of their safety, for no one knew betterthan he that there were dishonest persons to be met with who werewilling to appropriate valuables belonging to others.

It was some time since he had been so well off as he would be when hehad converted these bonds into money. Indeed, all the summer long he hadbeen short of funds, or he would not have spent so long a time in acountry village, which to him was dull and afforded him a small fieldfor his peculiar talents.

Arriving in New York, Congreve took his way to Wall Street. Here it wasthat he expected to get rid of the bonds, or, rather, exchange them forgreenbacks.

In this street brokers' and bankers' offices abound, and all negotiablesecurities readily find a purchaser. He stepped into an office nearlyopposite the opening of New Street, and, approaching the counter, said, as he drew out his bonds:

"What are you paying for government sixes?"

"Let me see the date," said the clerk. He spread open the bonds, andthen answered: "One hundred and fifteen and three-eighths."

"Very well," replied Congreve. "I will sell them."

The clerk took them and stepped to the desk, to make an entry of thepurchase.

"What name?" he asked, turning to Congreve.

"John Baker," said Congreve, with momentary hesitation.

For obvious reasons, he thought it best not to mention his own name, astrouble might possibly come from the possession of the bonds.

"Shall I give you a check?" was the next question.

"I would prefer the money," answered Congreve.

"Go to the cashier's window, and he will attend to you."

"Not much trouble about that," thought Congreve, complacently, when hewas startled by a voice at his elbow.

"How are you, Congreve?"

Looking around hastily, he saw a hand extended, and recognized a youngman who had at one time been a fellow-boarder with him in FourteenthStreet. It is safe to say that James Congreve wished him anywhere elseat that most unfortunate time.

"Hush!" said he, in a subdued whisper; "I will speak to you outside."

He hoped the clerk had not heard the name by which he had beenaddressed; but he hoped in vain. The latter, pausing in his writing, came to the counter and said:

"Didn't this gentleman call you Congreve?"

"Yes," admitted Congreve, uneasily.

"You just gave your name as John Baker."

"Oh, no! That is, I didn't say my name was John Baker. That is thegentleman for whom I am selling the bonds."

"Then they do not belong to you?"

"No."

"Where does Mr. Baker live?"

"In New Haven," answered Congreve, glibly, for he had a readyinvention.

"We do not care to buy," said the clerk, coldly, for there was somethingin Congreve's manner which made him suspicious.

"Really," said Congreve, laughing in a constrained manner, "you appearto be very cautious."

"We have to be."

"Shall I tell Mr. Baker it will be necessary for him to come to New Yorkin person to dispose of his bonds? He is my uncle, and I simply am doinghim a favor in disposing of them."

"Very possibly; but I think we won't purchase them."

"Oh, well! I can carry them elsewhere," said Congreve, raging inwardly.

His acquaintance, whose recognition had interfered with his plans, followed him to the door, in rather a perplexed frame of mind.

"Where have you been all summer, Congreve?" he asked, thinking it bestto ignore the scene which he had just witnessed.

"None of your business," answered Congreve, sharply.

"What does this mean?" asked the young man, in astonishment.

"It means, sir, that I do not wish to keep up my acquaintance with you. Didn't you know any better than to blurt out my name just now, and soget me into trouble?"

"If you are ashamed to appear under your real name, I don't care to knowyou," answered the young man, with spirit. "So, good-morning to you, Mr. Congreve, or Mr. Baker, or whatever else you call yourself."

"Good riddance," said Congreve.

"There's something wrong about that fellow," said Tom Norcross tohimself, as he looked after Congreve, while the latter was crossing thestreet. "I don't believe he came by those bonds honestly. His manner wascertainly very suspicious."

Congreve entered another banking house, and here he had no difficulty indisposing of his bonds. He came out with two hundred and thirty dollarsin his pocket, and feeling less irritable than before.

"So that's done," he said to himself, "and I am well provided with moneyfor the present. Now I must make up for lost time, and try to enjoymyself a little. I was nearly moped to death in that dull countryvillage, with no better company than a young snob. Now to see life!"

First of all, Congreve installed himself at a fashionable boarding houseuptown. Then he purchased a seat for the evening's performance atWallack's Theater, and then sought out some of his old companions inhaunts where he knew they were likely to be found. He had a few games ofcards, in which his luck varied. He rose from the card table a loser inthe sum of twenty-five dollars.

"That is unlucky," thought Congreve. "However, I've got two hundreddollars left. I must be more cautious, or my money won't last long."

Still, he felt in tolerably good spirits when he went to the theater, and enjoyed the performance about as much as if his pleasures werebought with money honestly earned.

It so happened that the clerk at the first banking house who had refusedto purchase the bonds sat two rows behind him, and easily recognized hiscustomer of the morning.

"I suspect Mr. Baker, alias Congreve, has disposed of his bonds," hethought to himself. "I am really curious to know whether he had anyright to sell them."

From time to time this thought came back to the clerk, till he formed aresolution quietly to follow Congreve, after the close of theperformance, and ascertain where he lived.

Congreve, seated in front, was not aware of the presence of the clerk, or he might have taken measures to defeat his design.

When James Congreve left the theater, he was at first inclined to stopat Delmonico's on the way uptown, and indulge in a little refreshment; but he felt somewhat fatigued with his day's travel, and, after amoment's indecision, concluded instead to return at once to his boardingplace.

"He lives in a nice house," said the clerk to himself. "Let me noticethe number. I may find it desirable to know where to find him."

To anticipate matters a little, word came to New York in the afternoonof the next day that two bonds, the numbers of which were given, hadbeen stolen from Colonel Ross, and search was made for the young man whowas suspected of having negotiated them. The clerk, who, previous toreturning the bonds to Congreve, had taken down the numbers, at onceidentified them as the ones referred to, and gave information to thepolice.

The result was that just as Congreve was sitting down to supper on theevening of the second day, he was informed that a man wished to see himat the door. On answering the call, he saw before him a small man, ofquiet manner, dressed in a sober suit of black.

"You name is Congreve, I believe?" he said, politely,

"Yes, sir," answered James, in a hesitating tone.

"Then I must trouble you to go with me."

"I have just sat down to supper."

"I am really sorry to disturb you, but you are charged with selling twostolen bonds in Wall Street yesterday."

"There is some mistake," said Congreve, hurriedly. "Colonel Ross sent methe bonds by his son, with a request that I would sell them for him."

"Glad to hear it," said the detective, laconically. "Then you will beable to clear yourself. Meanwhile, you must come with me."

And James Congreve spent the night in a boarding house by no meansfashionable.

CHAPTER XL

PREPARING TO PROSECUTE

"I am going to the bottom of this affair," said Colonel Ross, as hesipped his second cup of coffee at the breakfast table the next morning. "The Gilbert boy must suffer the consequences of his crime."

"Will he be sent to prison, pa?" inquired Philip.

"It is a State's prison offense, my son," answered his father.

Was it on Harry's account that Philip suddenly turned pale and lookednervous? I cannot credit him with a sufficient amount of feeling foranother. He could not help recalling the fact that it was he and notHarry who had been guilty of this State's prison offense.

"However, the thing can't possibly be traced to me," he reflected, somewhat more comfortable in mind. "I don't know as I care whether HarryGilbert goes to prison or not. He is very proud and stuck-up, and itwill take down his pride."

"I commend your decision," said Mrs. Ross, to her husband. "In myopinion, mercy would be misplaced in such a case as this. The boy who isdegraded enough to steal is likely to continue in his criminal course, and the sooner he is punished the better."

There was something in this remark, also, that made Philip wince.

"Where will Harry Gilbert be tried?" asked Philip.

"Before Squire Davis. I directed the constable to carry him round thereat nine o'clock this morning."

"May I go, too?"

"Yes; your testimony will be needed to show that the boy was prowlingaround our house on the evening in question."

"Very well," answered Philip, with satisfaction. "I'll go along withyou."

"Do so, my son."

As it was not yet time to go to the office of the justice, Philipstepped out into the yard, where Tom Calder, the stable boy, was washinga carriage.

"I guess I'll tell him the news," thought Philip. "Tom," he said, "we'vediscovered who stole the bonds the other night."

"Have you?" asked Tom, with a queer smile.

"Yes. Would you like to know who it is?"

"Uncommon."

"It's Harry Gilbert."

Tom Calder pursed up his lips in genuine amazement, and emitted a shrillwhistle.

"You don't say!" he exclaimed.

"Yes," said Philip, complacently. "The governor had the housesearched – Widow Gilbert's, of course – and he found the bonds there."

"That beats all I ever heard!" ejaculated Tom.

"Oh, it doesn't surprise me at all!" said Philip, carelessly. "I've longsuspected Harry Gilbert of being dishonest."

"I don't believe it, for my part," said Tom, manfully standing by a boywho, on more than one occasion, had done him a favor. "Harry Gilbert isas honest a boy as there is in town."

"Your opinion isn't of much importance," said Philip, in a tone ofsuperiority, "and it won't save the Gilbert boy from going to State'sprison."

"Do you mean to say the one who took the bonds will have to go to

State's prison?"

"Yes; that's what father says, and he knows a good deal about the law."

"Maybe he'll change his mind," said Tom Calder, in a peculiar tone.

"When is the trial coming off?"

"This morning, at nine o'clock, at the office of Squire Davis."

Tom nodded his head thoughtfully, but only said:

"Are you going to be there?"

"Yes."

"What time is it now?"

"Quarter past eight."

"Somebody else will be there," said Tom to himself; and Philip left himand went back into the house.

CHAPTER XLI

HARRY MANAGES HIS OWN CASE

Trial Justice Davis sat in his office. He was a man of sixty, with akeen but not unbenevolent face, looking all the more sagacious, perhaps, because of a pair of gold spectacles which surmounted his nose. He hadbeen apprised of the trial at which he was expected to preside, and helooked surprised and regretful.

"I can't believe that boy is guilty," he said to himself. "I have alwayslooked upon him as one of the best boys in town."

At nine, the principal parties concerned entered the office. First, Colonel Ross and Philip walked in – Philip with an attempt to be at ease, but with a perceptibly nervous air, notwithstanding.

Harry Gilbert entered, walking beside the constable. Behind him followedhis mother and Uncle Obed. Mrs. Gilbert looked anxious, though theconstable assured her that there was no need of it, and that Harry wouldbe triumphantly acquitted. Harry did not look in the least frightened, but seemed much more at ease than Philip.

A trial before a police justice in a country town is much more informalthan in a city, and this should be remembered by those who read thischapter.

"What charge do you bring against Harry Gilbert, Colonel?" asked thejustice.

"I charge him with entering my house on the evening of the nineteenthinstant, opening the small trunk in which I keep my valuable papers andsecurities, and abstracting therefrom two United States Governmentbonds, of the par value of a hundred dollars each."

"You hear the charge, Harry," said the justice. "Are you guilty or notguilty?"

"Not guilty," answered Harry, in clear, ringing accents, surveying the

Colonel proudly.

"You ought to have some one to defend you," said the justice.

"I will defend myself," said Harry, resolutely.

"Very well. Colonel Ross, I will hear your testimony."

The Colonel, being sworn, testified that he had missed the bonds on themorning afterward, and had been led, by what his son told him, tosuspect Harry Gilbert. He had gone to the cottage, and found the bonds. He was about to rehearse Philip's information, but the justice stoppedhim, and said he would hear Philip in person.

"Have you any question to ask the witness?" asked the justice of Harry.

"Can I reserve my questions?" asked Harry.

"Yes; if you desire it."

Philip was next sworn. He testified that, on the evening in question, hehad seen Harry prowling round the house, just before going up to bed.

"How did you happen to sit up so late?" asked Harry.

"That's my affair," replied Philip, haughtily.

"Answer!" thundered the justice, angrily. "No insolence here, sir!"

"I was reading," said Philip, frightened.

"Did you go into the room where the trunk was?" asked Harry, in hiscapacity as lawyer.

"Ye-es."

"Did you open the trunk?"

"No," answered Philip, nervously.

"I protest against the prisoner's insolence to my son," exclaimed

Colonel Ross, angrily.

"It is a question he has a right to ask," said the justice, calmly.

"Did you see the keys which your father left on his desk?" asked Harry.

"No," answered Philip, ill at ease.

"I should now like to question Colonel Ross," said Harry.

The Colonel, with a curl of the lip, took the stand again.

"Really," he said, "it looks as if my son and I were on trial instead ofthe prisoner."

"Colonel Ross, you must be aware that I am according Harry no unusualprivileges. It is as a lawyer – his own advocate – that he questionsyou."

"Go on," said the Colonel, haughtily.

"Colonel Ross," continued Harry, "do you generally keep a list of thenumbers on your bonds?"

"Of course!"

"Can you furnish the numbers of the bonds that were taken from you?"

"I can give the numbers of the whole ten bonds. I don't know which weretaken. I have not compared my list with those that remain."

"Have you the numbers with you?"

"Yes, I have them in my notebook."

"Will you be kind enough to repeat them so that the court may take themdown?"

"Certainly! though I don't see what good that will do."

"It is of material importance," said the justice, nodding approval.

Colonel Ross drew from his inside coat pocket a large wallet, and, opening it, took out a memorandum, from which he read as follows:

"The numbers run from 17,810 to 17,817, inclusive."

"Then the stolen bonds are somewhere between those numbers?" said

Harry.

"Of course."

Harry turned to the constable.

"Mr. Rogers," he said, "have you the bonds which were found at ourhouse?"

"Yes," answered the constable.

"Will you hand them to Squire Davis, and ask him to read off thenumbers?"

"You will do as Harry requests you," said the justice.

The constable placed the envelope in his hands, and Justice Davis, opening it, drew out three bonds.

"I find two one-hundred-dollar bonds," he said, "and one fifty-dollarbond."

"The two hundred-dollar bonds are mine," said Colonel Ross.

"That is, you claim them," said the justice, cautiously. "I will readthe numbers.

"This one," he proceeded, unfolding one, "is numbered 9,867, and theother" – after a pause – "11,402. It strikes me, Colonel Ross, that youwill have to look further for your bonds."

If such a dignified-looking man as Colonel Ross could look foolish, theColonel looked so at that moment. He realized that he had made aridiculous exhibition of himself, and he felt mortified to think that hehad been so careless as not to have thought of comparing the numbers ofthe bonds the moment he had discovered them in Harry Gilbert'spossession.

"Harry Gilbert is honorably discharged, and the bonds are restored tohim," said the justice.

"Thank you, sir," said Harry, glancing not without natural exultation, at Colonel Ross and Philip.

Philip, by the way, looked as uncomfortable as his father.

Here there was an unexpected and startling interruption.

"I can tell Colonel Ross all about it!" said a distinct voice from nearthe door.

"Come forward then and give your information," said the justice.

This call was answered by Tom Calder, who elbowed his way to the front, dressed in his farm attire, and in his shirt sleeves.

Philip's face might have been observed to grow pale when he heard Tom'svoice, and he looked decidedly sick when the boy walked up to give histestimony. Unobserved by any one, for all eyes were fixed upon Tom, heedged to the door, and slipped out, in an agony of apprehension, for heforesaw what was coming.

"Proceed," said the justice.

"That night when the Colonel missed the bonds," began Tom, "I was cominghome some time after nine, when I happened to look into the window, andthere I saw Phil Ross with his father's little trunk open before him. Isaw him take out a couple of bonds, and slip them into his insidepocket. Then he carefully locked the trunk again, laid the keys on thedesk, and left the room. That's all I saw."

"It's a falsehood!" ejaculated Colonel Ross, furiously.

"You just ask Phil about it, Colonel," said Tom, composedly.

Colonel Ross looked around for Philip, but no Philip was to be seen.

"I seed him slip out of the door just as Tom was beginnin' to talk," said a small urchin.

Overcome with mortification, and compelled to suspect that Tom's storywas true, Colonel Ross hurried home, where he found Philip.

Sternly calling him to account, the Colonel extorted a confession, notonly that he had taken the bonds, but what had become of them. Theresult was that information was sent to the police of New York, andJames Congreve was arrested.

I may as well finish this part of the story by saying that Congreve wascompelled to give up what remained of his ill-gotten gains, but ColonelRoss failed to prosecute him, because he could not do so withoutinvolving his own son also. It was only two months, however, beforeCongreve was detected in a more serious affair, for which he was forcedto stand trial, and is even now serving a term of imprisonment, receivedas a penalty for the later crime.

As for Philip, he was so mortified and shamed by the exposure of hisdishonesty, and his attempt to fix the crime upon another, that he askedhis father to send him to a boarding school at a distance, and hisrequest was complied with.

Tom Calder was immediately discharged by Colonel Ross, but within a weekhe was engaged elsewhere at an advanced salary. His new employer was Mr. Obed Wilkins, better known to us as Uncle Obed.

If this statement excites surprise, I must refer my readers to the nextchapter for an explanation.

CHAPTER XLII

CONCLUSION

The house of Colonel Ross was the finest in the village, with oneexception. A certain Mr. Carrington, a city merchant, had, five yearsbefore, built a country villa surpassing it, a little distance away onthe same street.

It was provided with handsome grounds, and originally cost, everythingincluded, thirty-five thousand dollars, exclusive of furniture.

It was the day after Harry's triumphant acquittal that Uncle Obedremarked, casually:

"I hear that Mr. Carrington is anxious to sell his estate."

"I am not surprised," answered Mrs. Gilbert. "He bought it chiefly toplease a young wife, and her sudden death sadly disturbed all hisplans."

"I have made some inquiries," continued Uncle Obed, "and find that he iswilling to sell everything, even to the furniture, for fifteen thousanddollars."

"That is a great bargain, for he could scarcely have paid less thanforty thousand dollars for the whole."

"I have about decided to buy the place," said Mr. Wilkins, quietly.

"What!" exclaimed Mrs. Gilbert and Harry, in concert.

"Since you both think it will be a good bargain, I think I will buy it," continued Uncle Obed, his eyes twinkling.

"That's a good joke," said Harry.

"No joke at all, as you will find."

"You don't mean to say you can afford to buy such a place?" said Harry, in amazement.

"I consider myself worth seventy-five thousand dollars," said Mr.

Wilkins.

Mrs. Gilbert and Harry stared at him in undisguised astonishment.

"I thought you were a very poor man," said the widow.

"I know you did," said Uncle Obed, laughing.

"What will Colonel Ross say?" wondered Harry.

"I feel more interested in what my niece will say," said the old man.

"I am afraid they will take you away from us, Uncle Obed, when they findout that you are rich."

"Not against my will, I think," replied the old man, with quietdetermination.

"They won't want to send you back to Illinois now."

"I don't know but they will, when they find I won't go with them."

"Do you think of moving into the new house, Mr. Wilkins?" asked Mrs.

Gilbert, anxiously.

"Yes, I think I shall."

"We shall be sorry to lose you," she said, soberly.

"You are not going to lose me," assured Uncle Obed. "Do you think I amgoing to live alone? I should die of loneliness. No! You and Harry gowith me, and I shall take the liberty of paying all the expenses ofhousekeeping."