CHAPTER XIX.
A MESSENGER OF GOOD TIDINGS
There stands a large tenement-house on East Fourteenth street, five stories in height, and with several entrances. Scores of barefooted and scantily attired children play in the halls or on the sidewalk in front, and the great building is a human hive, holding scores of families. Some of them, unaccustomed to live better, are tolerably content with their squalid and contracted accommodations; but a few, reduced by gradual steps from respectability and comfort, find their positions very hard to bear.
On the third floor three small rooms were occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Robert Morgan, and their two children. She was the daughter of Mrs. Graham, and had been reared in affluence. How she had incurred her father's displeasure has already been told. He had been taken sick some months before, his little stock of money had melted away, and now he was unable even to pay the small expenses of life in a tenement-house.
Just before Frank made his appearance there was sadness in the little household.
"How much money is there left, Ellen?" asked Robert Morgan.
"Seventy-five cents," she answered, in a tone which she tried to make cheerful.
"And our week's rent will become due to-morrow."
"I may hear from mother," suggested Mrs. Morgan.
"If you don't, I don't know what will become of us all. We shall be thrust into the street. Even this squalid home will be taken from us."
"Don't get discouraged, Robert."
"Isn't there enough to make me despondent, Ellen? I can see now that I did very wrong to marry you."
"Do you regret our marriage, then, Robert?" asked his wife.
"Only because it has brought you poverty and discomfort."
"I have not yet regretted it."
"How different a position you would have occupied if I had not dragged you down! You would still be living in luxury."
"I should not have you and these dear children."
"And will they compensate you for what has come upon you?"
"Yes," she answered, emphatically.
"You have more philosophy than I have, Ellen."
"More trust, perhaps. Do you know, Robert, I think we are on the eve of good fortune?"
"I hope so, but I see no prospects of it."
Just then there was a knock at the door.
Thinking that it might be some humble neighbor, on a borrowing expedition, Mrs. Morgan opened the door. Before her stood our hero in his uniform.
"Is this Mrs. Robert Morgan?" asked Frank.
"Yes," she answered.
"I come from your mother."
"From my mother? Robert, do you hear that?" said the poor woman, in a voice of gladness. "Here is a messenger from my mother. Didn't I tell you there was good luck in store for us?"
Mr. Morgan did not answer. He waited anxiously to hear what Frank had to communicate.
"Your mother sends you her love, and fifty dollars," continued Frank. "She hopes to call soon herself."
"Fifty dollars!" exclaimed Ellen Morgan, in delight. "It is a fortune."
"Thank Heaven!" ejaculated her husband, in great relief.
"A month hence you may expect a similar sum," said Frank. "I suppose I shall bring it. Shall I find you here?"
Ellen Morgan looked at her husband.
"No," said he. "Let us get out of this neighborhood as soon as possible. Can't you find a respectable place to-day?"
"Yes," said his wife. "I shall be glad to move. I saw some neat rooms on West Twentieth street on Monday. They will cost us but little more, and will suit us better."
"I will send my mother my new address," she said to Frank.
"Then you may send it under cover to me, and I will see that she gets it privately," said Frank, who had received instructions to that effect from Mrs. Graham.
When Frank had left the room the little household seemed quite transformed. Hope had entered, and all looked more cheerful.
"We are provided for, for two months, Robert," said his wife. "Is not that a piece of good luck?"
"Yes, indeed it is," he answered heartily. "Before that time I can get to work again, and with health and employment I shall not need to ask favors of any one."
"I wish father were as forgiving as mother," said Ellen Morgan.
"Your father is a hard man. He will never forgive you for marrying a poor man. He would punish you by starvation."
"He is very proud," said Mrs. Morgan. "I was an only daughter, you know, and he had set his heart upon my making a brilliant marriage."
"As you might have done."
"As I did not care to do. I preferred to make a happy marriage with the man of my choice."
"You are a good wife, Ellen."
"I hope you will always find me so, Robert."
"I should have sunk utterly if you had been like some women."
In the afternoon Mrs. Morgan went out, taking one of her children with her. She went to the rooms on West Twentieth street, and, finding them still vacant, secured them, paying a month's rent in advance, as her mother's timely gift enabled her to do. Before the next evening they were installed in their new home, and Mrs. Morgan sent a note to her mother, under cover to Frank, apprising her of the removal.
Two days later Frank received a summons to the house on Madison avenue. He obeyed, thinking he should probably be sent with some message to Mrs. Morgan.
He found Mrs. Graham in a state of nervous excitement.
"My husband has been stricken with paralysis," she said. "It is terribly sudden. He went out yesterday, apparently in vigorous health. He was brought home pale and helpless."
"Can I do anything for him or you?" asked Frank.
"Yes; you can go at once to my daughter, and summon her to her father's bedside."
Frank was surprised, remembering how obdurate Mrs. Graham had described her husband to be.
"You look surprised," she said; "but sickness often produces a great change in us. My husband's pride has given way. His affection has returned; and it is at his request that I send for Ellen."
Frank had come to feel a personal interest in the family, and he gladly set out for the modest home in West Twentieth street. He felt that it was pleasant to be a messenger of reconciliation.
Mrs. Morgan recognized him at once, and received him cordially.
"Do you come from my mother?" she asked.
"Yes. She wishes you to come home at once."
"But—my father."
"Your father is very sick; and he joins in the request."
"It has come at last,—the time I have looked forward to for so long," said Ellen Morgan, clasping her hands. "Robert, do you feel equal to looking after the children while I am gone?"
"Yes, Ellen. Go at once. God grant that your father's heart may be softened, for your sake. For myself I am content to live in poverty; but I don't like to see you suffer."
"What is the matter with father? Did my mother tell you?"
Frank explained, and thus gave her fresh cause for anxiety.
On reaching her father's chamber she was shocked by his changed appearance; but her heart was gladdened by the wan smile that lighted up his face, assuring her that she was welcome. From the doctor she received the assurance that her father was in no immediate danger. Indeed, he expressed a confident hope that Mr. Graham would rally from his present attack, and be able to go about his business again, though caution would be required against undue excitement or fatigue.
The doctor's prediction was verified. Mr. Graham recovered; but his old pride and obduracy did not come back. He became reconciled to his son-in-law, and provided him a well-paid position in his own mercantile establishment, and provided rooms in the Madison-avenue mansion for the little family whom Frank had first visited in the squalid tenement-house in Fourteenth street, and the glad voices of children made the house no longer lonely.
"You must call and see us often," said Ellen Morgan to our hero. "I shall always remember you as the messenger who brought us good tidings at the darkest hour in our fortunes. We shall always welcome you as a friend."
CHAPTER XX.
A NEW JOB, AND A LETTER FROM HOME
One morning an elderly gentleman entered the office in which Frank was employed, and sought an interview with the superintendent.
"I want a smart boy for detective work," he said. "Have you one you can recommend?"
The superintendent cast his eyes over the line of boys, and called Frank. Our hero's recognition of the disguised counterfeiter by his ring had given him a reputation for shrewdness.
"I think this boy will suit you," he said. "Do you wish him to go with you now?"
"Yes; I may want him a week."
"Very well."
Frank accompanied the gentleman into the street.
"Have you no other clothes except this uniform?" asked Mr. Hartley.
"Yes, sir."
"Then go and put them on. Then report to me at No. – Broadway."
"All right, sir."
"It is fortunate I have a good suit," thought Frank.
He was not long in exchanging his uniform for the neat suit given him by Mr. Bowen. Thus attired, he presented himself in Mr. Hartley's counting-room. The merchant surveyed him with approval.
"You will enter my service as errand-boy," he said. "You will be sent to the post-office, the bank, and on similar errands, in order not to excite suspicion of the real object of your presence. Keep your eyes open, and I will take an opportunity of explaining to you later what I wish you to do."
Frank bowed.
"Mr. Haynes," said the merchant, calling a thin, sallow young man, "I have engaged this boy as an errand-boy. Has any one been to the post-office this morning?"
"No, sir."
"Then he will go."
Haynes regarded Frank with disfavor.
"I have a nephew who would have liked the position," he said.
"Too late now," said the merchant, curtly.
"What is your name, boy?" asked Haynes, coldly..
"Frank Kavanagh."
"How did Mr. Hartley happen to engage you?" asked the subordinate.
"A gentleman recommended me," Frank answered.
"I had already mentioned my nephew to him. I am surprised he said nothing to me about engaging a boy."
Frank said nothing, feeling no particular interest in the matter. As he was only filling temporarily the position of errand boy, it made little difference to him whether he was acceptable to Mr. Haynes or not.
In the course of the day Mr. Hartley handed Frank a card, containing the street and number of his residence, with a pencilled invitation to call that evening.
Of course Frank did so.
Seated alone with the merchant in his back parlor, the latter said, "I have invited you here because I could not speak with you freely at the store. How do you like Mr. Haynes?"
Frank was surprised at the abruptness of the question.
"I don't like him," he answered, candidly.
"Why not?"
"There is no good reason that I know of," said Frank; "but I think his manner is disagreeable."
"Our instincts are often to be trusted," said the merchant, thoughtfully. "I confess that I myself don't like Haynes, nor do I feel implicit confidence in him, though he has been eight years in the service of our house. He is outwardly very circumspect, and apparently very faithful, but there is something in his eye which I don't like."
Frank had noticed this, but Mr. Hartley's remark called fresh attention to its furtive, crafty expression.
Frank's curiosity was aroused, naturally enough. He wondered what Mr. Haynes had to do with his mission. He did not have long to wait for information.
"I will come to the point," said Mr. Hartley, after a pause. "I am an importing merchant, and deal, among other articles, in silks. During the last year I have discovered that some one is systematically robbing me, and that parts of my stock have been spirited away. The loss I have sustained is already considerable, and unless the leakage is put a stop to, I may as well give up business. You can now guess why I have engaged you. No one will suspect an errand boy of being a detective, while a man would very probably excite distrust, and put the rogue on his guard."
Frank listened attentively to his employer.
"Do you suspect any one in particular, Mr. Hartley?" he asked.
"It must be some one in my employ," he said. "The man who, more than any other, has facilities for robbing me is the man of whom I have spoken to you."
"Mr. Haynes?"
"Yes, Mr. Haynes. He holds an important position, and enjoys special privileges. On the other hand, so far as I can learn, he lives in a sober, inexpensive way, quite within his salary, which is liberal. He is prominently connected with an up-town church, and it seems very improbable that he would be guilty of robbery, or breach of trust; yet there have been such cases before. At any rate, I cannot wholly divest myself of suspicion."
"What do you wish me to do?" asked Frank.
"To watch Mr. Haynes carefully, both in and out of the store, to ascertain whether he has any unexplained expenses, or any questionable companions. I want to know how he spends his time out of the office. It may be that the result of my investigation will be to his credit. It may be that he is all that he seems,—a reputable member of the church and of society, with nothing against him but an unpleasant manner. Should this be the case, I shall be glad to correct my suspicions, and give him back my confidence. In that case, we must look elsewhere for the rogue who is robbing me."
"Have you any particular instructions to give me?" asked Frank.
"No, only to follow Haynes, and find out all you can about him. Use great care in doing it, not to arouse his or any one else's suspicion. I will find an opportunity for you to make your reports."
"Very well, sir."
When Frank got home, he found a letter awaiting him from his country home. It was in answer to one which he had written to his uncle, Deacon Pelatiah Kavanagh, in reference to a trunk which had belonged to his father.
This is the letter:—
My dear Nephew,—I am glad to learn that you are making a living in the city. It is much better that you should earn your own living than to be a burden upon me, though of course I would not see you suffer. But a man's duty is to his own household, and my income from the farm is very small, and Hannah and I agreed that we had little to spare for others.
There is an old trunk, belonging to your deceased father, in the attic. It contains some old clothes, which may be made over for you, and so save you expense. I would use them myself, and allow you for them, but your father was a much smaller man than I, and his clothes would not fit me. I will send the trunk by express to the address which you gave me. Of course I shall expect you to pay the express, as I have no interest in it, or its contents.
Your cousin Jonathan has left school, and is working on the farm. I feel so glad that he has no extravagant tastes, but inherits the careful and economical habits of his mother and myself. I am sure he will never waste or squander the little property which I hope to leave him.
"I don't believe he will," thought Frank, "for he is about as mean as his mother, and that is saying a good deal."
Your aunt and I hope that you will steer clear of the temptations of the city. Do not seek after vain amusements, but live a sober life, never spending a cent unnecessarily, and you will in time become a prosperous man. I would invite you to come and stop with us over Sunday, but for the railroad fare, which is high. It will be better to save your money, and put off the visit till you can afford it.
Your uncle,
Pelatiah Kavanagh.
Reading this letter, it would hardly be supposed that the writer owned ten thousand dollars in stocks, bonds, and mortgages, over and above an excellent farm. Such, however, was the worldly position of the man who sent Frank to the city in quest of a living, because he could not afford to provide for him. With some men prudence is a virtue; with Deacon Pelatiah Kavanagh it was carried so far as to be a positive defect.
CHAPTER XXI.
FRANK'S FIRST DISCOVERY
So far as Frank could observe, Mr. Haynes was an active, energetic salesman. He appeared to understand his duties thoroughly, and to go about them in a straightforward manner. So far as his personal habits were concerned, they seemed irreproachable. He was neatly but plainly dressed, wore no jewelry, and carried a plain silver watch, which, when new, probably did not cost over twenty dollars.
Frank had no difficulty in ascertaining where he lived. It was in a brick house, on Waverley place, very unpretentious and certainly not fashionable. In order to find out how much he paid for his accommodations Frank visited the house on pretence of being in search of board.
"We have a hall bed-room on the third floor, at five dollars a week, including board," said the landlady. "How would that suit you?"
"I may have a friend board with me," said Frank. "In that case we should need a large room. Have you any vacant?"
"There is the front room on the third floor. We would let it to two gentlemen at eleven dollars for the two."
"Isn't the back room cheaper?" inquired our hero.
"Yes; but it is occupied by a business gentleman."
"Can you tell me his name? I may be acquainted with him."
"His name is Haynes."
"How much does he pay?"
"He pays eight dollars a week, and has the room alone."
"I suppose his room is not likely to become vacant soon?"
"Oh, dear, no. He has been with us for several years. We should be sorry to lose him. Last Christmas he gave my daughter a present of a nice silk-dress pattern."
Frank was struck by this information.
"I don't believe he paid anything for the silk," thought he. "I wish I could find out."
He had learned all he cared for, and left, saying he might call again.
"His expenses seem very moderate for a man in his position," thought Frank. "I wonder if he makes any investments."
Fortune favored our hero in the prosecution of his inquiry. Keeping Haynes in sight, as was his custom, he observed that the latter, in pulling out a handkerchief from the breast-pocket of his coat, had brought with it a letter also. Frank, quickly and unobserved, picked it up, and when he was alone looked at the address. It was directed to James Haynes, at his residence in Waverley place. On the envelope was the printed address of a real-estate broker in Brooklyn.
Frank knew that there was at that time considerable speculation in Brooklyn real estate, and he examined the letter. It ran thus:—
We have found a corner lot, with several lots adjoining, near Prospect Park, which may be obtained for five thousand dollars, half cash. We have no hesitation in recommending the purchase, being convinced, from the tendencies of the market, that the buyer will double his money in a comparatively short time. If you are engaged at other times, come over on Sunday afternoon, and we will show you the property. The house you purchased of us last year is worth fully a thousand dollars more than the price you gave.
"I wonder how much he gave," said Frank to himself.
The letter was signed "Henderson & Co., No. – Fulton street."
Our hero was elated by the discovery he had made, and he sought an interview with Mr. Hartley.
"Have you discovered anything?" asked the merchant, noticing the eager look of his young detective.
Without attaching especial importance to the fact, Frank answered, "I have found out that Mr. Haynes owns a house in Brooklyn."
"Indeed!" said Hartley, quickly. "But," he continued more slowly, "he might buy one with the money saved from his salary."
"He is also thinking of buying some lots near Prospect Park."
"How did you learn this?" asked the merchant, surprised.
"I would rather not tell you," said Frank, who was not quite sure whether Mr. Hartley would sanction his examination of a private letter. "You may be sure that it is true."
"Very well; I will rest contented with that assurance. I will leave you to work in your own way. Your information is important, for it seems to show that Mr. Haynes has made investments beyond his ability, if he were dependent upon his savings alone."
"That is what I thought," said Frank. "I must try to find out where he gets this extra money."
"If you do that, and prove my suspicions correct, I will make you a handsome present, besides paying the company regular rates for your services."
"Thank you, sir. I will try to earn your gifts."
CHAPTER XXII.
FOLLOWING UP A CLUE
This is not a detective story, and I shall not, therefore, detail the steps by which our young hero succeeded in tracing out the agency of Haynes in defrauding the firm by which he was employed. It required not one week, but three, to follow out his clues, and qualify himself to make a clear and intelligible report to Mr. Hartley. He had expressly requested the merchant not to require any partial report, as it might interfere with his working unobserved. Towards the end of the third week he asked an interview with Mr. Hartley.
"Well, Frank," said the merchant, familiarly, "who is the rogue?"
"Mr. Haynes," answered our hero.
"You speak confidently," said his employer; "but surmise will not do. I want proof, or I cannot act."
"I will tell you what I have discovered," said Frank; "and I leave you to judge for yourself."
"Have you a customer in Hartford named Davis?" he asked.
"Yes; and a very good customer. He is frequent in his orders, and makes prompt payments. I wish I had more like him."
"If you had more like him you would soon be bankrupt," said Frank, quietly.
"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Hartley, in genuine surprise. "How can a customer who buys largely, and pays promptly, be undesirable?"
"Did you know that Mr. Davis is a brother-in-law of Mr. Haynes?"
"No; but even if he is I have to thank Mr. Haynes for securing me so excellent a customer."
Hartley spoke confidently, evidently believing that Frank was on the wrong tack.
"I have noticed," said Frank, "that when goods are packed to go to Mr. Davis, Mr. Haynes personally superintends the packing, and employs one particular man to pack."
"What then?"
"I think he has something to conceal."
"I don't understand what he can have to conceal. If Davis is his brother-in-law, it is natural that he should feel a special interest in filling his orders."
"I shouldn't wonder if Mr. Haynes were a partner as well as a brother-in-law of Mr. Davis."
Mr. Hartley looked surprised.
"That may be true; though I don't know why you should conjecture it. Admitting that you are right, I don't know that I have any right to object. I should like it better, however, if I were frankly told by Mr. Haynes of this circumstance."
"I will tell you what I think I have discovered," continued Frank. "The cases that are shipped to Mr. Davis not only contain the goods he has ordered, but valuable silks that he has not ordered, and does not propose to pay for."
"I see, I see," exclaimed Mr. Hartley, a light dawning upon him for the first time. "I was stupid not to comprehend your meaning earlier. What warrant have you for suspecting this?"
"First, your steady losses of goods; next, the ease with which Mr. Haynes, in his position of trust, could carry out this plan. Why should he superintend the packing of Mr. Davis's goods, alone of all your customers?"
"There is weight in what you say, Frank. You are certainly an extraordinary boy. You have shown so much shrewdness that I now ask your advice. What steps shall I take to ascertain whether Mr. Haynes is really guilty of what we suspect him?"
"There is an order now being filled for Mr. Davis," answered Frank. "When the order is filled, can't you open the case, and find out whether the contents correspond exactly to the bill?"
"The very thing. To facilitate matters I will send Mr. Haynes to Brooklyn on a confidential errand. Fortunately there is a matter that will give me a good excuse for doing so. Go back to your post, and when Mr. Haynes appears to be at liberty send him to me."
Half an hour later Mr. Haynes entered the counting room of his employer.
"You sent for me, sir?" he said, a little uneasily; for, when conscience accuses, the mind is always apprehensive.
"Yes, Mr. Haynes," said the merchant, in his usual tone. "Have you any objection to go to Brooklyn for me, on a confidential errand?"
"None in the world, sir," said Haynes, relieved. "I shall be glad to take the trip this fine morning. It is almost too pleasant to remain in-doors."
"Thank you; I will give you your instructions, and shall be glad to have you go at once."
It is not necessary to our story that we should know the nature of the errand on which Haynes was sent. It served the purpose of getting him out of the way.
When the suspected clerk was fairly on his way Mr. Hartley went to the packing-room, and looked about him till he discovered the case addressed to
H. L. DAVIS & CO.,
Hartford, Conn.
"Open this case," said he to one of the workmen. "There was a mistake recently in sending some goods to Davis, and I wish to compare these with the bill."
"I think they are all right, sir," said the man addressed. "Mr. Haynes saw them packed."
"Mr. Haynes will not be responsible for any mistake," said Mr. Hartley. "I would rather see for myself."
The case was opened, and the merchant discovered about two hundred dollars' worth of silk, which was not included in the bill.
"Go and call Mr. Hunting," said Mr. Hartley, quietly.
Mr. Hunting filled one of the most important positions in the establishment. To him his employer explained the nature of his discovery.
"Mr. Hunting," he said, "I wish you to see and attest the fraud that has been attempted upon me. This case was packed under the special charge of Mr. Haynes."
"Is it possible that Mr. Haynes knew of this?" exclaimed his fellow-clerk.
"Davis is his brother-in-law," said Mr. Hartley, significantly.
"Has this been going on long, do you think, sir?"
"For several years, I suspect. Mr. Haynes has, no doubt, found it very profitable."
"Shall I close up the case again, sir?" asked the workman.
"Yes, but it is not to go. You may await my further orders."
The silk was taken out, and replaced in the silk department.
"So much has been saved, at least," said the merchant.
"When Mr. Haynes comes back," he said to the usher, "send him to me."