Chapter 38

IN WHICH PHIL VISITS THE HOUSE OF MR. COLLINGSBY, AND SEES MISS MARIAN.

I went to the counting-room at an early hour. My first care was to tie up the valuable package, which I had brought with me, in thick paper, and to seal it very carefully. I wrote my own name upon it, and then placed it in one of the drawers of the safe, the key of which was kept in the desk. I hoped to obtain permission, when Mr. Whippleton came to the counting-room, to visit St. Louis, especially as business was not as driving as usual. I did all my routine work, and the junior partner had not arrived. I was not anxious to see him for any other purpose than to obtain leave of absence. Indeed, the idea of meeting him was very embarrassing. After what his mother had said, I was satisfied that Mr. Whippleton had been using the funds of the firm in his own private speculations. It was evident that he had appropriated no less a sum than forty thousand dollars, which was represented by the fictitious invoices. I did not believe that he intended to purloin the money, but would replace it when his land speculations yielded their returns. Mr. Collingsby never examined the books thoroughly, and was not likely to discover the fraud. I knew all about it, and it suddenly flashed upon my mind that it would be wrong for me to be a party to a concealment.

I was not employed by Mr. Whippleton alone, but by the firm. My obligations were to both the partners; and though Mr. Collingsby never took any notice of me, my duty to him was just as urgent as to the junior. The thought startled me. My soul revolted at the idea of any treachery to Mr. Whippleton, who had always been very kind to me. But on the other hand, my moral sense revolted at the thought of concealing his fraud. I was troubled by the situation.

Mrs. Whippleton did not believe that her son's enterprise in real estate was a success. In her own words, he "had been bitten." It seemed to me that, in the end, there must be a fearful explosion. As I had the whole charge of the books now, I did not see how I could avoid any complicity with the fraud. In fact, I had already discovered it. I felt that I had a duty to perform, and that, if I exposed the junior partner, he, and not I, would be guilty of his fall. Was it meanness, ingratitude, or treachery in me to put Mr. Collingsby on his guard? If I could save Mr. Whippleton, I wished to do so. It was plain that he had come to a realizing sense of his danger, and was persecuting his mother to obtain the means of making good his deficit. But all the old lady's money would not cover the deficiency, and it was also impossible for him to obtain it. He had falsified the books, and he could not undo that.

If I continued to cover up Mr. Whippleton's error, I became a party to it. He was a bad man, and I could not fail to see my duty. I must inform Mr. Collingsby of what I had discovered. But though my duty was clear, my inclination rebelled. The junior partner had been kind and considerate; the senior, lofty and distant. It seemed almost like betraying my friend. While I was still considering the matter, Mr. Whippleton came in. I had not reached any conclusion, except that I would not be a party to the fraud by concealing it.

"Phil, do you know where Mr. Collingsby lives?" said the junior partner, while I was still in this state of doubt and uncertainty.

"I do, sir."

"I wish you would go up and show him this list of lumber," continued Mr. Whippleton, who seemed to be very much excited, and was very pale. "Tell him I can buy the lot at a very low figure if I can pay cash at one o'clock to-day."

"I wish you would send Robert," I replied, alluding to the new entry clerk. "I want to speak to you about the books."

"Never mind the books," he answered. "I want you to go, for you can tell him all about the cash of the concern. I heard just now that he was not very well, and probably would not be here to-day."

By this time I had made up my mind what to do, and the conclusion seemed to afford me the means of escaping both horns of the dilemma into which I was plunged. I glanced at the memoranda which Mr. Whippleton handed to me, and I saw that about twenty-five thousand dollars would be required to make the purchase he contemplated. Our cash balance in the bank was about six thousand, and Mr. Collingsby was expected to furnish the rest. I did not care to go to the senior partner upon such an errand, for I was afraid that the transaction the junior meditated might include another fictitious invoice.

"Well, will you go?" demanded Mr. Whippleton, while I was looking at the list.

"I would rather not, sir," I replied.

"What!"

"I have come to the conclusion that I should resign my place here," I replied, finding that nothing but plain speech would answer my purpose.

"Resign!" exclaimed he.

He was paler than ever, and my words evidently startled him.

"What do you mean by that? Are you not satisfied with your salary? If you are not, I will give you ten dollars a week, or twelve, or more, if you desire."

"My salary is quite satisfactory."

"And you are engaged for a year."

"I know I am, but I hope you will let me off."

"No; I will not. This is a shabby trick, after I have taken the trouble to break you in, and you know our books perfectly."

"I'm afraid I know them too well," I replied.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked; but he dropped into a chair, apparently faint, as he had been on the preceding occasion.

"I believe in being fair and square, Mr. Whippleton. There is something wrong about the books."

"Nonsense, Phil. That is only because there are some things about the business which you don't understand."

"I want to go to St. Louis this afternoon to see my father."

"Very well; you can go. You can be absent a week, if you wish. Haven't I used you well, Phil?"

"You have, sir,--very well, indeed; and I am grateful to you for all your kindness."

"Then why should you leave? If you wish to see your father, go to St. Louis for a week or two. Your salary shall be paid just the same as though you were here."

"Thank you, sir; you are very kind, and you always are."

"Then why do you want to leave me?"

"It is because you have always used me well that I wish to go. I am afraid my trial balance was more correct than I supposed at the time."

"What do you mean, Phil?" demanded he, springing to his feet with sudden energy.

"Whether right or wrong, sir, I believe that you have taken about forty thousand dollars out of the concern without the knowledge or consent of your partner."

"Why, Phil!"

He dropped into his chair again, and I was satisfied that I had hit the nail on the head. He gasped and trembled, but, fortunately for him, we were alone in the counting-room.

"I have spoken just what I think, sir; but I hope I am mistaken."

"You are mistaken, Phil; most tremendously mistaken. I like you, Phil; if I did not, I should kick you out of the counting-room without another word. But I believe you mean to be honest, and that you have made an honest blunder, though it is a very stupid one."

"Certainly the lumber included in those invoices you brought down from your rooms was never entered in the lumber book."

"Confound the lumber book! Never mention the thing again to me! I have told you that no reliance whatever can be placed upon it. I can convince you of your mistake in one hour."

"I shall be very glad to be convinced."

"But we haven't the hour now to look up the matter. I will explain it all to you this afternoon, and then, if you are not satisfied, I will let you go, and pay you a year's salary, besides."

"I only want to know what became of the lumber billed to the firm in those invoices," I answered, not at all satisfied with his proposition.

"I will show you this afternoon. Now, go up to Mr. Collingsby's and do my errand. The firm may lose a good bargain, if I miss this trade."

I concluded to go to the senior partner's. I inquired particularly in regard to the lumber Mr. Whippleton purposed to buy, but all the junior said assured me that he was preparing for another movement. I took the list, and a memorandum of the cash balance in the bank, and left the office. Somehow, in spite of myself, I felt guilty. Even my resolve to leave the service of the firm did not satisfy me. It would only leave the senior partner to be swindled still more. I hastened to the house of Mr. Collingsby, which I had never entered. I rang the bell, and was admitted to the entry, where I was required to wait till the senior partner could be informed of my desire to see him.

"It's a magnificent day to sail," said a gentleman in the parlor, near the door of which I stood.

I recognized the voice of Mr. Waterford, the owner of the yacht which was the twin sister of the Florina. He was generally called, by those who knew him, Ben Waterford. He was reputed to have made a fortune in real estate speculations, and was a young man of fine personal appearance. I had often seen him when out sailing with Mr. Whippleton. My own impression was not very favorable; for I regarded him as not only rather fast, but as lacking in moral principle. As he spoke he walked towards the door, and I saw that he was with a young lady of seventeen or eighteen, a very beautiful and a very elegant girl in style and manner.

"I should be delighted to go," said she; "but you give me very short notice. You wish to leave in an hour."

"Of course we will wait till you are ready, Miss Collingsby."

It was the daughter of Mr. Richard Collingsby, and I had heard that her name was Marian. Land Limpedon had rehearsed her charms to me, and with no little disgust had added that Ben Waterford was "waiting upon her." It seemed to me quite proper, therefore, that he should take her out to sail.

"I will endeavor to be ready in an hour," she added. "But who is going with you?"

"My sister and one or two others. We shall have a nice time. The lake is still, and it is a splendid day. We shall have a good dinner, and I know that you will enjoy it; only bring plenty of thick clothing, for it may be chilly before we return."

"I always carry plenty of clothing when I go upon the water. But you don't tell me who is going, Mr. Waterford."

"My sister and--"

"I never saw your sister. Is there any one I know?" asked Miss Collingsby.

"I have invited four, and they all said they would go if they could. It is short notice, but you see, Miss Collingsby, I never like to take out any ladies without being sure of the weather."

"You are very wise and prudent, Mr. Waterford," laughed the beautiful young lady; "I shall be there, for one."

"Thank you; then we shall be sure to have a pleasant time," added the skipper.

"But I shall not go unless some of the rest of the party appear. I will not go alone."

"Mr. Whippleton will be in the Florina, near us. We shall sail in company, and he will have a party in his boat."

The young lady very properly repeated her stipulation that others should join the party, and when the terms were duly arranged, Mr. Waterford left the house. Miss Marian glanced at me, and that was all. Probably she did not think I was worth noticing; but she changed her mind before night, for it so happened that I was one of the party in Mr. Waterford's yacht that day.

The servant showed me up stairs, where I found Mr. Collingsby comfortably sick in his arm-chair.