CHAPTER XV IN WHICH HERBERT DOES SOME VERY HARD WORK AND RECEIVES A

TERRIBLE SHOCK

Herbert arose much earlier than usual the next morning, for he had a keen appreciation of the important character of the work that lay before him. He had hardly finished his breakfast when there was a ring at the door and the landlady brought up a card which bore upon its glazed surface the simple inscription “M. Short.” Herbert wondered who this could be, but directed that he be sent up to his room at once. A few minutes later he was greeting a short-set, stockily-built man, with sharp eyes and a sad expression of countenance.

“Well, Mr. Short,” said Herbert, “what can I do for you?”

The bright eyes of the little man twinkled merrily as he responded:

“I fear that I will have to put the shoe on the other foot and kindly inquire what I can do for you.”

“Why,” said Herbert, “I never met you before.”

“Probably not,” replied the other, still smiling; “but I was ordered to report to you this morning, and told that you would give me directions how to proceed.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Herbert, a light breaking in on him, “you are the detective.”

“Yes,” said the other mildly, “that is my business, and I am now at your service.”

After a conversation of ten or fifteen minutes, the reporter and the detective came to a thorough understanding. They were to meet at the main post office shortly before noon, and their movements after that were to depend entirely upon circumstances. Herbert was pleased with the character of man who had been sent to assist him, and mentally congratulated himself upon what now appeared to be the certain success of many days of hard labor. The end was already in view.

A few minutes after the detective had taken his leave, Herbert received a square cornered envelope, containing his name and address. He tore it open quickly and read as follows:

“DEAR HERBERT:

“Father, mother and I have removed to New York for the winter, and would be glad to have you call at the earliest opportunity. We understand that you are engaged in your newspaper work in the evening, so that if you care you are quite welcome to call in the morning, or at any other time that may suit your convenience.

“Very sincerely yours, “MARY BLACK.”

Herbert looked at his watch. He had nearly three hours to spare before it would be time to keep his appointment with the detective in the post office, and he quickly decided to utilize it by making a hurried call on the Blacks. The address given was that of a house on West 69th Street, and in a very short time, by making use of the sub-way, Herbert found himself at the address indicated.

Mary Black, who responded to his call, was delighted to see her old friend and schoolmate, and in a few minutes he was also talking with Mr. and Mrs. Black. The family, distressed by the continued absence of the son and brother, had determined to stay in New York for some months in the hope of obtaining some clue to the runaway. A financial friend of Mr. Black, who had gone to Europe for the winter, had insisted upon his occupancy of the house during the time that he was absent from the country. Although the suggestion had been made only a fortnight before, the little family was already comfortably installed in the 69th Street house. They were all delighted with their new surroundings, and Mary was very much pleased and interested with the sights of the big city; but over it all there was a certain sadness caused by the sorrow which was felt on account of the erring one. The father was almost completely crushed at the domestic affliction which overshadowed their hearthstone. He had lost the coldness and haughtiness for which he was distinguished while at Cleverly, and in broken tones expressed to Herbert the sorrow he felt at the injustice which he had done to his old friend, David Harkins. He said that if an opportunity should ever come whereby he would be enabled to remedy the ill that had been caused through his thoughtless words, he would cheerfully do so.

Time passed so rapidly and so pleasantly in the company of Mary Black that Herbert was loath to leave. A look at his watch, however, showed that he had less than an hour before the time would arrive for keeping his appointment, so he bade good-by to Mr. and Mrs. Black and hurried towards the door. Mary accompanied him there, and he noticed from her constrained manner that she had something on her mind and was anxious to speak to him privately. Being a man, he felt that it was incumbent upon him to break the ice, so he said gently:

“Mary, is there anything I can do for you or your father or mother? If so, don’t hesitate to speak to me frankly.”

“There is something, Herbert,” she said, “and it has been weighing upon my mind for a long while. It is about Arthur. I want you to promise me that you will be a friend to my brother. I do not believe that he is a bad boy at heart; but unfortunately, he has fallen into bad company and has been led astray. Promise me that if the opportunity ever presents itself, you will give him a helping hand. This chance may come, or it may never come; but tell me that you will not forget what I have said to you.”

Herbert took her by the hand, and said with much solemnity:

“Mary, if I ever meet Arthur and have the opportunity of befriending him, I promise you that I shall do so.”

Her eyelashes were wet with tears; but at his words, her eyes sparkled with satisfaction, and she exclaimed eagerly:

“Oh, I thank you so much for saying that, because I know that I can trust you, and I know that you mean what you say.”

A few minutes later Herbert was once more in the sub-way, speeding towards the Park Row station, which was within a short distance of the main post office building. He reached that busy spot at ten minutes of twelve o’clock and found the detective awaiting him. The two men held a hurried interview with the clerk of the box department, who informed them that he knew the young man who was in the habit of calling for the letters for the swindling concern which they now had under suspicion. He said that he would remain at his post for the next fifteen or twenty minutes and as soon as he identified the fellow he would give the two men a signal by holding up his right hand. The details of the plan having been arranged, the reporter and the detective set themselves to wait for the critical moment. It proved to be a great strain on all concerned. The hands of the big clock moved around so slowly that they could almost have shrieked out with impatience and anxiety. A great crowd was hurrying to and fro and opening and closing the letter boxes, which reached almost from the pavement to the ceiling all along the great corridor, but the moments dragged by and the clerk had made no signal.

Presently a man wearing a long ulster and a derby hat stooped down on one knee and began opening the letter box which contained the mail belonging to the china painting concern. He entered so quickly that neither Herbert nor the detective caught a glimpse of his face. The box clerk inside the office became very much excited when the man stooped down, and getting a good look at his face, raised his hand and shook it in the air as a signal to those on the outside. It said just as clearly as if the words had been spoken:

“There is your man. Nab him.”

The detective moved to one side so that he could arrest his man the minute he arose from his sitting position. Herbert, who was becoming quite nervous from the strain, motioned the detective to step back a few yards. When this had been done, the young reporter got immediately in the rear of the kneeling man so that when he arose he could face him and make his accusation as dramatically as possible. He felt that this was to be a great occasion in his journalistic life, and he wanted it to come off successfully and without the slightest slip.

The man in the ulster was terribly slow about his work. His head and his face were so close to the box that it was impossible to get a glimpse of his countenance. Besides he fingered each letter separately as if to feel and mentally calculate the amount of money enclosed in each of the envelopes. The action did not escape Herbert’s attention, and caused him to curl his lips up in a look of unutterable scorn.

“Calculating his stealings,” he muttered to himself indignantly; “considering how much money he has filched from poor girls and women who have scarcely enough to buy food to eat.”

The kneeling figure, however, knew nothing of the contempt with which he was being regarded by the warm-blooded young man behind him. Presently he finished his examination of the letters and had put them all in the little leather gripsack which he had beside him. He arose very slowly, and then turned around and came face to face with the young reporter.

The sight that met the gaze of Herbert Harkins caused him to become as pale as a sheet. His head seemed to be reeling around him, and he felt as if he could scarcely stand without support.

He looked again. The second glance only confirmed what he had seen at first.

The youth who stood before him was Arthur Black!