Chapter 11

Fred saw that she was slightly embarrassed, and knew she was thinking of the somewhat sarcastic letter he had sent her.

"Nellie, I hope you will forget my letter," he said.

"I should be glad to, if I could."

"I am sorry I sent it."

"I am sorry you had cause to send it."

"I was hasty; but it is past now. I hope you will not let it trouble you."

"If I will forget the letter, will you forget what caused you to send it?"

"I shall be only too glad to do so."

"Truly?"

"Here is my hand on it."

"Shall we now be as good friends as ever?" asked Nellie, as she withdrew her hand.

"I sincerely hope so, and--even better," he added hesitatingly.

Nellie's eyes dropped, and a sweet blush stole over her face.

"We were very good friends before, I thought," she answered.

"So we were, but--but--well, I shall prize your friendship more highly since learning how much I missed it."

Nellie now brought her fan into requisition.

"And you will never write me any more sarcastic letters?"

"No."

Here the conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Dr. Dutton.

"Ah! good evening, Fred. I am sorry to have kept you waiting so long, but I hope Nellie has entertained you well."

Fred arose, blushed, and took the doctor's hand. Why he blushed he didn't know, but he could feel his cheeks burn.

"Oh, yes, I have been well entertained, thank you, but I didn't realize that I was waiting for you."

"Why, didn't Nellie tell you?"

"No, sir."

"I forgot to say you wanted to see him, we were so busy talking," put in Nellie.

"Oh, that's it; well, all right. But, Fred, I have been hearing good reports of you," the doctor continued.

"I am glad to know that, and I hope I merit them," replied Fred modestly.

"I think there is no doubt of it."

"It is refreshing to hear you say so after knowing all the bad reports that have been circulated against me during the last few weeks."

"Never mind, my boy; you have stood the fire nobly, and are surely winning the fight."

Fred's heart leaped with joy at these reassuring words from the doctor.

"Do you think so?" he said, at length.

"There is very little doubt of it, and I think I have a surprise for you," taking from his pocket the paper Nellie had found and placing it in Fred's hands.

Our young hero quickly ran his eye over it, and was amazed at its contents. It read thus:

MAPLETON, November 17th, 187--.

Matthew De Vere and me was waitin' near the old Booker barn to club Fred Worthington. Matthew hired me to help him. We both had a club. 'Twas 'bout twelve o'clock in the night I gess. Matthew sed he was goin' to get square with Fred. Matthew told me to strike him on the leg, and he sed he would do the efecktive work and fix him so he wouldn't interfear with him any more. When you come along we darted on you thinking you was Fred. I hit you a hard clip on the leg. Matthew was reddy to strike you on the head, but saw his mistake and stopped jest in time and ran away.

(Signed) TIM SHORT.

The above statement is true.

MATTHEW DE VERE.

"Have you ever seen this paper before?" asked the doctor.

"No, sir, never."

"Knew nothing of it?"

"No, sir."

"You little realized, then, how near you came to being waylaid and----" but the doctor didn't finish the sentence.

"I never had the slightest suspicion of it."

"It was a bold plot."

"And a wicked one," added Mrs. Dutton, who had now joined the group in the library.

"But what kept you out so late that night?" asked the doctor.

Fred examined the date of Mr. Simmons' paper.

"It was the night of Grace Bernard's party."

"Yes, so it was--I remember the date now; but in going from Mr. Bernard's to your home you could not pass the old Booker barn."

Fred's face grew suddenly red. The temperature of the room seemed to him suffocatingly warm. He stood on one foot, embarrassed, trying to think how to explain.

His color very strangely seemed to be reflected upon Nellie's cheeks. Just then she appeared to be much interested in the evening paper, and held it much nearer to her eyes than was her custom.

"You shouldn't ask so many questions," said Mrs. Dutton to her husband, smiling at the young folks' embarrassment.

"Ah, ha! I see now. Jealousy, was it?"

"It looks like it," answered Fred comically, whereupon the doctor and his wife laughed heartily, and, the ice being broken, Nellie and Fred joined in the merriment, though it was at their own expense.

"Well," said the doctor seriously, "this paper records a very grave matter. The boys should be punished."

"Why, I wonder, didn't Mr. Simmons have them punished?" asked Nellie.

"The case looks suspicious," answered her father.

"He has never reported it, or we should have heard of it," said Mrs. Dutton.

Fred rested his head on his hand in deep thought.

"He must have had some object in getting this paper," he at length answered. "It looks to me as though he had been bribed--been paid to keep the matter a secret."

"That seems very probable," answered the doctor.

"Would Matthew's father have paid Mr. Simmons anything for such a purpose?"

"No, indeed. He would be the last man imaginable to allow himself to be fleeced in such a way."

"I thought so; but now, supposing our theory of the bribing is the correct one, how and where could the boys have got the money to pay him?"

"They couldn't have got it at home."

"Do you feel sure of that?"

"I am almost certain."

"Mr. Simmons could have brought a strong pressure to bear upon them."

"However strong, Mr. De Vere would never have paid one cent. But he would have punished Matthew unmercifully."

"You have never known of his being punished?"

"No."

"Would any one outside of the family probably have known it?"

"I think so."

A theory concerning this matter had suggested itself to Fred, and he was working it out like a young logician.

"Suppose," he continued, "Mr. Simmons should have forced the boys to do something toward paying him, and Matthew dare not speak to his father and mother about it, what would have been the result?"

"I can hardly imagine," returned the doctor.

"I think they would have got it from some other source by some other means," said Nellie.

Fred's face brightened. This was the answer that seemed natural to him, and he was pleased that Nellie should be the one to give it.

"That is my idea," he replied.

"Why, Fred, you talk exactly like a lawyer," remarked Mrs. Dutton.

"Oh, I don't know about that," he laughed, "but this paper has strengthened a suspicion that I have had for a little time--strengthened it so much that I feel almost convinced I am right since hearing what the doctor says about this matter."

XXXII.

"What is your theory, Fred?" asked Dr. Dutton, with interest.

"I think I may as well take you all into my confidence," answered our hero.

"And why not?" replied the doctor.

"Of course you will, Fred," said Nellie.

"Yes, I think you can help me in working up the case."

"We will surely do all we can," said Dr. Dutton. "But what is the nature of your suspicion?"

"It is so grave a matter I hate to breathe it to any one till I have further proof, therefore I must ask you all to keep it strictly confidential."

"It shall be treated as such," replied Dr. Dutton.

"I think it probable," said Fred, "that John Rexford's store was robbed and burned, and it is not altogether impossible that it was done to raise this money for Mr. Simmons."

"Oh, that can't be so," returned the doctor, amazed at the thought.

"There are reasons that lead me to think so."

"And Matthew might have done it to try and injure you," put in Nellie, as she thought how far De Vere had carried his malice.

"That might be so," replied Fred, "but I reason from the belief that Matthew was forced to raise the money."

"Is that the only point on which you found your theory?" asked Dr. Dutton.

"No, sir. I thought something was wrong when Jacob Simmons first met me in the mill. He seemed fairly startled on seeing me. I decided then to keep my eyes open. In a few days I saw him use a peculiar knife--called a mechanic's pocket knife--which is in itself quite a kit of tools. I managed to have Jack Hickey borrow it so I could examine it. The minute I had it in my hands I recognized it as the very one that was in Mr. Rexford's show case when I left his store. It was an expensive knife, and I don't believe Simmons ever bought it.

"That is a good piece of evidence, surely," replied the doctor, "but can you get the knife when you need it?"

"I have bought it," and he explained his method of obtaining it. "Moreover," continued Fred, "I remember when I was tried for burning Mr. Rexford's store, Matthew and Tim were both present. They sat together and showed a very keen interest in the trial, and when it went in my favor, their disappointment was plainly to be seen."

"Did it occur to you then that they possibly had anything to do with burning the store?"

"No, but knowing what I do now, it seems to me probable. This paper furnishes just the evidence I was waiting for."

"I admire your bold reasoning, Fred," said the physician.

"His theory seems plausible," added Mrs. Dutton, "though I can't believe Matthew would think of doing such an act."

Fred felt much pleased at the good impression he was evidently making upon Nellie's parents.

"I may be entirely wrong," he replied, "but I have sufficient confidence in the idea to feel warranted in testing the matter."

"I would advise you to do so," said the doctor.

Presently Fred arose to go, and after receiving a cordial invitation from the doctor and his wife to call often, and a cheerful good night from Nellie, he withdrew, happy over the warm welcome given him, and full of enthusiasm in his purpose to bring the guilty parties to justice.

He first went home and got the knife in question, and then made his way straight to Mr. Rexford's room, where he found him alone.

"Good evening, Mr. Rexford," said Fred heartily.

"Good evening," returned the merchant, wondering what the boy's object could be in calling.

This was the first time they had met alone to speak since the trouble at the store when Fred was discharged.

"I suppose you have learned nothing new relative to the cause of your store's burning," remarked our hero.

"No, nothing."

"You were not very generous with your old clerk to have him arrested, charged with such an act."

The merchant winced.

"I think I have a chance now to do you a favor in return for your generosity," continued Fred.

This sarcasm cut deeply, but there was something about the boy's manner that kept the merchant from answering angrily.

"What is it?" he at length asked.

"I have a clue that would perhaps lead to the arrest of the parties who plundered and burned your store."

Rexford's interest was now fully aroused.

"Have you?" he asked eagerly.

"Yes, and I have sufficient evidence, I think, to warrant you in making an arrest."

"Is it possible?"

"Yes, there is no doubt of it."

Fred now took the knife from his pocket and passed it to his former employer.

The merchant recognized it instantly by its peculiar handle. He said, in answer to Fred's questions, that the knife had not been sold, and that it must have been taken from his show case the night of the fire. He remembered showing it that evening to a customer, and distinctly recollected putting it back into the show case.

This, then, constituted a strong piece of evidence to show that the store was robbed.

Fred then explained how the knife came into his possession.

"You have worked up the case skilfully," said Mr. Rexford.

"I hope I have made no mistakes," answered Fred.

"You have shown care and ingenuity, and have succeeded in getting very strong evidence. This is better than Sheriff Coombs has done."

"I have other evidence also in my possession that makes this much stronger," replied our hero, and he showed Mr. Rexford the paper that Nellie Dutton had found, and gave him his theory of the robbery.

"I agree with you fully. It looks very reasonable," said the merchant, whose enthusiasm was well aroused. "I can hardly wait till morning before taking action in the matter."

XXXIII.

Mr. Rexford was very grateful to our young friend for the trouble he had taken in working up this case.

"It hardly seems possible, Fred, that you should do so much for me, after being treated as you were by me," he said warmly.

"I hope I have been able to do you a favor," returned Fred sincerely; "and besides, it may prove of service to me."

"You have, indeed, done me a favor. And is this the way you seek revenge?"

"I think it is the best sort of revenge."

"I believe you, Fred; but very few ever practise it."

"It is more satisfactory in the end, and moreover is right."

"Very true, but it is hard to act upon such a theory. Suppose Simmons is guilty, should I forgive him and do him a kindness?"

"That would be quite a different case. His act would be crime, and should, therefore, be punished. You could feel sorry for him, though, that he had acted so unwisely."

"Yes, I think you are right," answered the merchant mechanically, while his mind seemed to be struggling with another problem.

"Fred, I have wronged you cruelly," he continued, "and your generous spirit has touched me as nothing else has since I was a boy like yourself. I discharged you, practically accusing you of dishonesty, but now I know you were innocent. Your reputation was so injured that you could get no position in a store, and were obliged to seek employment in the factory. Then I had you arrested, charged with the grave offense of burning my store. Can you forgive me, Fred, for having wronged you so?"

"I can and will do so cheerfully," answered our hero, "for I believe you acted from your honest belief at the time."

"Yes, I did, but I should have had more charity, and more consideration for your welfare."

"It was a hard blow to me, I assure you. But tell me, have you found the missing money?" asked Fred eagerly.

"Yes. It was not lost; and the amount--eighteen dollars--was right. The error was in making change. It was my own mistake. An eccentric old fellow, a farmer up in Martintown, had the money--the very same twenty dollar bill. He said he gave me a five dollar bill and I handed back the twenty dollar bill in change."

"Farmers usually count their change very carefully."

"Yes, and it seems he counted this after he got home. He said he put the bill by itself in his wallet to keep until he had occasion to come this way again."

"When did you learn about it?"

"Two or three weeks ago."

"And you have known it all this time and said nothing about it?"

"Yes, Fred. Almost every day I have decided to send for you and explain all as I am doing now, but I dreaded meeting you and kept putting it off from day to day. I felt so guilty over my treatment of you, and so humiliated when I found the error was my own, that I had not the courage to tell you about it. Yet I knew all the time that I was adding more and more to the wrong I had done you."

"I can imagine how you feel about it," said Fred, "and your apology makes it all right. If the old farmer had returned the money earlier, much of this trouble might have been saved. He ought to have written you about it at any rate. It was fortunate he was an honest man; otherwise we should never have solved the mystery, and the stain would have clung to me always."

"Yes, Fred, I am afraid it would. But all suspicion is removed from you now. This shows of what vital importance honesty, even in small matters, may prove to an individual."

"I can realize that now, as it applies so forcibly to my own case."

"I hope to make amends for some of the great wrong I have done you," said Mr. Rexford, whose heart seemed to show a tender side which it had not appeared hitherto to possess. "My store will be rebuilt within a few weeks, and you shall have your old position as clerk again, if you wish."

"You are very kind, Mr. Rexford. I am glad to know that I may work for you again. If I come I will let you know in time."

"The position is due you, and I never had a clerk who did his work so well. I hope you will decide to come with me," said the merchant, as Fred rose to go.

XXXIV.

Early the following morning Mr. Rexford called upon his lawyer, Mr. Ham. In due time the papers were made out and placed in the hands of Sheriff Coombs, who promptly made his way to the factory with all his official bearing and arrested Jacob Simmons on the charge of robbing and burning John Rexford's store.

Mr. Farrington was prepared for this move, as Fred had informed him that it would take place during the forenoon, and had also told him everything he had done, and what he proposed doing.

He was especially glad to learn that the missing money had been returned. His own theory was that some error had been made, but other events had followed so fast one upon the other that he had recently made little effort to solve the mystery.

That it should now be cleared up so satisfactorily, with all blame removed from Fred, was gratifying to him in the extreme, for he was a true and sincere friend of our young hero.

Mr. Simmons' surprise at seeing officer Coombs on such an errand can hardly be imagined. Of course he had to give himself up and go with the sheriff--a prisoner charged with a grave offense.

A hearing in his case was arranged for the following day to come before Judge Plummer.

Mr. Simmons gave bonds for his appearance at the trial, and devoted the rest of the day to preparing his defense with his lawyer. Wondering why he had been arrested, and going over in his own mind every possible cause that could lead to it, he thought of the statement which Tim and Matthew had signed about the assault. He took his pocketbook from his coat, and looked among his papers for it.

It was not there. He was alarmed to find it missing. He asked his wife about it, but she knew nothing of it.

"I must have lost it somewhere," he admitted to himself with a shudder. "Fool that I was for doing wrong. I believe it has led to my arrest, but why I cannot understand."

When Matthew learned that Jacob Simmons had commenced work on the flockers with Fred he was alarmed. He talked the matter over with Tim. Both felt uneasy and unhappy, but they could see no way to help the case, so left it to fate, which speedily did its work.

Revenge to Matthew was a sad failure--had almost ruined him. Every effort he had made had recoiled upon him so unexpectedly and persistently that now he was beset on all sides with danger of exposure and punishment.

Fred--his rival--had stood up manfully under fire without flinching. He had won at every point and was now fast regaining his old position.

"His friendship, too, with Nellie Dutton is re-established, and I can do no more to prevent it," sighed Matthew regretfully. "I met her this morning and she would not speak to me, but she entertained Fred all last evening."

While thus meditating, the report that Jacob Simmons had been arrested for burning Mr. Rexford's store reached Matthew. He hurried home and to his room, and there threw himself upon his bed and wept bitterly. Disappointment, disgrace, and humiliation all crowded upon him, and the inevitable step that he must take stared him cruelly in the face.

His heart beat with bitter anguish as he thought of all this--of his good home, of his father's pride in him and of his mother's love, of his sister's tender affection--thought of all those near and dear to him--and shuddered as he realized the disappointment and sorrow that was to fall heavily upon them from his own wicked acts.

He buried his face in his pillow and sobbed till it seemed that his heart would break.

"Oh, if I could only undo the past!" he cried. But he had gone too far.

His pride and haughty spirit were completely crushed, and when he finally arose from his bed he was humbled indeed.

The following morning all Mapleton was excited by the report that Matthew De Vere could not be found.

He had not been seen by any one since the previous afternoon. Just where he was last seen was a mystery. One said he saw him coming from the pine grove with Tim Short about dusk; others tried to convince themselves and their friends that they had met him in this place or that, while a vague report stated that he was last seen by the river bank passing hurriedly from view in the darkness.

This was a sensational rumor. Was he drowned? Had he committed suicide? If so, why? Every one discussed the case--speculated upon it. None thought exactly alike, and each labored to persuade the other that his theory was the correct one.

Matthew's parents and sister were heartbroken. They knew nothing of his whereabouts, save that they believed he was safe, for they found a note in his room saying simply that he was forced to leave town immediately; that he could not then explain why, and that they would soon know all. He begged them not to worry about him, and humbly asked their forgiveness.

When Mr. Rexford heard that Matthew De Vere was missing, he immediately had Tim Short arrested, charged with robbing and burning his store.

Sheriff Coombs served the papers upon Tim, who had not as yet learned the news about Matthew.

When the sheriff spoke to him he was too badly frightened to reply.

"I shall have to take you with me," said the officer; "no way out of it now. The law ain't tender hearted with fellers that rob and burn. Besides, that De Vere boy has run away."

Tim staggered and fell to the ground. He had fainted dead away. When he regained consciousness his first words were:

"And now Matthew De Vere has run away and left me when he was the cause of it all." Great tears rolled down his cheeks and he sobbed bitterly.

Even the sheriff's heart was touched, and his official bearing relaxed as the boy's mother, almost prostrate with grief, implored him to let Tim go.

"Your son practically acknowledges his guilt," said the sheriff. "In any case, I should be compelled as an officer to arrest him, since the papers were placed in my hands. Still I think if he were to turn State's evidence--that is, to tell of his own free will all the facts connected with the affair--the court would probably deal more leniently with him."

Tim brightened up considerably at this remark, which seemed to hold out a means of escape.

"I will tell the court all I know--everything from first to last," said he as he marched off with the sheriff.

The case excited so much interest that the court room was filled to overflowing. Among those present was Matthew's father, who wished to know the facts about his son's connection with the robbery. Dr. Dutton, Mr. Farrington, and Fred Worthington were also present. Yes, another was there--little Carl, pale and thin from his sickness, but alive with interest in what he expected to be Fred's great triumph.

When the court was ready for the trial, Mr. Ham, on the part of the prosecution, called Tim Short as the first witness, much to the surprise of Jacob Simmons and his lawyer.

"Do you know anything about John Rexford's store being robbed and burned?" asked Mr. Ham of Tim.

"I do," said the latter.

"Tell us all you know about it."

Tim hesitated a moment, hardly knowing how to commence the confession of such a serious crime.

"Did you have any direct connection with it?" asked attorney Ham, by way of assisting the boy.

"Yes, sir," answered Tim.

"What did you do?"

"I helped rob the store, and then we set fire to it."

"Who was with you?"

"Matthew De Vere was with me."

"Who else?"

"No one."

"Did Jacob Simmons have anything to do with the robbery?"

"No, not exactly."

"What do you mean by 'not exactly'?"

"I mean he wasn't there and didn't do it, but if it hadn't been for him we shouldn't have thought of robbing Mr. Rexford's store or had any trouble."

"Then he planned the robbery for you?"

"No."

"What was his connection with it, then?"

"He threatened to have us arrested if we didn't pay him three hundred dollars."