Alger Horatio Jr.
Cast Upon the Breakers
CHAPTER XIII
CHARGED WITH THEFT
Rodney entered Mr. Goodnow’s office without a suspicion of the serious accusation which had been made against him. The first hint that there was anything wrong came to him when he saw the stern look in the merchants eyes.
“Perhaps,” said Mr. Goodnow, as he leaned back in his chair and fixed his gaze on the young clerk, “you may have an idea why I have sent for you.”
“No, sir,” answered Rodney, looking puzzled.
“You can’t think of any reason I may have for wishing to see you?”
“No, sir,” and Rodney returned Mr. Goodnow’s gaze with honest unfaltering eyes.
“Possibly you are not aware that within a few weeks some articles have been missed from our stock.”
“I have not heard of it. What kind of articles?”
“The boy is more artful than I thought!” soliloquized the merchant.
“All the articles missed,” he proceeded, “have been from the room in charge of Mr. Redwood, the room in which you, among others, are employed.”
Something in Mr. Goodnow’s tone gave Rodney the hint of the truth. If he had been guilty he would have flushed and showed signs of confusion. As it was, he only wished to learn the truth and he in turn became the questioner.
“Is it supposed,” he asked, “that any one in your employ is responsible for these thefts?”
“It is.”
“Is any one in particular suspected?”
“Yes.”
“Will you tell me who, that is if you think I ought to know?”
“Certainly you ought to know, for it is you who are suspected.”
Then Rodney became indignant.
“I can only deny the charge in the most emphatic terms,” he said. “If any one has brought such a charge against me, it is a lie.”
“You can say that to Mr. Redwood, for it is he who accuses you.”
“What does this mean, Mr. Redwood?” demanded Rodney quickly. “What have you seen in me that leads you to accuse me of theft.”
“To tell the truth, Ropes, you are about the last clerk in my room whom I would have suspected. But early this morning this letter was received,” and he placed in Rodney’s hands the letter given in a preceding chapter.
Rodney read it through and handed it back scornfully.
“I should like to see the person who wrote this letter,” he said. “It is a base lie from beginning to end.”
“I thought it might be when Mr. Goodnow showed it to me,” said Redwood in an even tone, “but Mr. Goodnow and I agreed that it would be well to investigate. Therefore I went to your room.”
“When, sir?”
“This morning.”
“Then it is all right, for I am sure you found nothing.”
“On the contrary, Ropes, I found that the statement made in the letter was true. On your bed was a bundle containing one of the cloaks taken from our stock.”
Rodney’s face was the picture of amazement.
“Is this true?” he said.
“It certainly is. I hope you don’t doubt my word.”
“Did you bring it back with you?”
“No; your worthy landlady was not quite sure whether I was what I represented, and I left the parcel there. However I opened it in her presence so that she can testify what I found.”
“This is very strange,” said Rodney, looking at his accuser with puzzled eyes. “I know nothing whatever of the cloak and can’t imagine how it got into my room.”
“Perhaps it walked there,” said Mr. Goodnow satirically.
Rodney colored, for he understood that his employer did not believe him.
“May I go to my room,” he asked, “and bring back the bundle with me?”
Observing that Mr. Goodnow hesitated he added, “You can send Some one with me to see that I don’t spirit away the parcel, and come back with it.”
“On these conditions you may go. Redwood, send some one with Ropes.”
Rodney followed the chief of his department back to the cloak room, and the latter, after a moments thought, summoned Jasper.
“Jasper,” he said, “Ropes is going to his room to get a parcel which belongs to the store. You may go with him.”
There was a flash of satisfaction in Jasper’s eyes as he answered with seeming indifference, “All right! I will go. I shall be glad to have a walk.”
As the two boys passed out of the store, Jasper asked, “What does it mean, Ropes?”
“I don’t know myself. I only know that there is said to be a parcel containing a cloak in my room. This cloak came from the store, and I am suspected of having stolen it.”
“Whew! that’s a serious matter. Of course it is all a mistake?”
“Yes, it is all a mistake.”
“But how could it get to your room unless you carried it there?”
Rodney gave Jasper a sharp look.
“Some one must have taken it there,” he said.
“How on earth did Uncle James find out?”
“An anonymous letter was sent to Mr. Goodnow charging me with theft. Did you hear that articles have been missed for some time from the stock?”
“Never heard a word of it,” said Jasper with ready falsehood.
“It seems the articles are missing from our room, and some one in the room is suspected of being the thief.”
“Good gracious! I hope no one will suspect me,” said Jasper in pretended alarm.
“It seems I am suspected. I hope no other innocent person will have a like misfortune.”
Presently they reached Rodney’s lodgings. Mrs. McCarty was coming up the basement stairs as they entered.
“La, Mr. Ropes!” she said, “what brings you here in the middle of the day?”
“I hear there is a parcel in my room.”
“Yes; it contains such a lovely cloak. The gentleman from your store who called a little while ago thought you might have meant it as a present for me.”
“I am afraid it will be some time before I can afford to make such present. Do you know if any one called and left the cloak here?”
“No; I didn’t let in no one at the door.”
“Was the parcel there when you made the bed?”
“Well, no, it wasn’t. That is curious.”
“It shows that the parcel has been left here since. Now I certainly couldn’t have left it, for I have been at work all the morning. Come up stairs, Jasper.”
The two boys went up the stairs, and, entering Rodney’s room, found the parcel, still on the bed.
Rodney opened it and identified the cloak as exactly like those which they carried in stock.
He examined the paper in which it was inclosed, but it seemed to differ from the wrapping paper used at the store. He called Jasper’s attention to this.
“I have nothing to say,” remarked Jasper, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t understand the matter at all. I suppose you are expected to carry the cloak back to the store.”
“Yes, that is the only thing to do.”
“I say, Ropes, it looks pretty bad for you.”
Jasper said this, but Rodney observed that his words were not accompanied by any expressions of sympathy, or any words that indicated his disbelief of Rodney’s guilt.
“Do you think I took this cloak from the store?” he demanded, facing round upon Jasper.
“Really, I don’t know. It looks bad, finding it in your room.”
“I needn’t ask any further. I can see what you think.”
“You wouldn’t have me tell a lie, would you, Ropes? Of course such things have been done before, and your salary is small.”
“You insult me by your words,” said Rodney, flaming up.
“Then I had better not speak, but you asked me, you know.”
“Yes, I did. Things may look against me, but I am absolutely innocent.”
“If you can make Mr. Goodnow think so,” said Jasper with provoking coolness, “it will be all right. Perhaps he will forgive you.”
“I don’t want his forgiveness. I want him to think me honest.”
“Well, I hope you are, I am sure, but it won’t do any good our discussing it, and it doesn’t make any difference what I think any way.”
By this time they had reached the store.
CHAPTER XIV
RODNEY IS DISCHARGED
Rodney reported his return to Mr. Redwood, and in his company went down stairs to the office, with the package under his arm.
“Well?” said Mr. Goodnow inquiringly.
“This is the package, sir.”
“And it was found in your room?”
“Yes, sir, I found it on my bed.”
“Can’t you account for it being there?” asked the merchant searchingly.
“No, sir.”
“You must admit that its presence in your room looks bad for you.”
“I admit it sir; but I had nothing to do with it being there.”
“Have you any theory to account for it?”
“Only this, that some one must have carried it to my room and placed it where it was found.”
“Did you question your landlady as to whether she had admitted any one during the morning?”
“Yes, sir. She had not.”
“This is very unfavorable to you.”
“In what way, sir?”
“It makes it probable that you carried in the parcel yourself.”
“That I deny,” said Rodney boldly.
“I expected you to deny it,” said the merchant coldly. “If this cloak were the only one that had been taken I would drop the matter. But this is by no means the case. Mr. Redwood, can you give any idea of the extent to which we have been robbed?”
“So far as I can estimate we have lost a dozen cloaks and about half a dozen dress patterns.”
“This is a serious loss, Ropes,” said Mr. Goodnow. “I should think it would foot up several hundred dollars. If you can throw any light upon the thefts, or give me information by which I can get back the goods even at considerable expense, I will be as considerate with you as I can.”
“Mr. Goodnow,” returned Rodney hotly, “I know no more about the matter than you do. I hope you will investigate, and if you can prove that I took any of the missing articles I want no consideration. I shall expect you to have me arrested, and, if convicted, punished.”
“These are brave words, Ropes,” said Mr. Goodnow coldly, “but they are only words. The parcel found in your room affords strong ground for suspicion that you are responsible for at least a part of the thefts. Under the circumstances there is only one thing for me to do, and that is to discharge you.”
“Very well, sir.”
“You may go to the cashier and he will pay you to the end of the week, but your connection with the store will end at once.”
“I don’t care to be paid to the end of the week, sir. If you will give me an order for payment up to tonight, that will be sufficient.”
“It shall be as you say.”
Mr. Goodnow wrote a few words on a slip of paper and handed it to Rodney.
“I will leave my address, sir, and if I change it I will notify you. If you should hear anything as to the real robber I will ask you as a favor to communicate with me.”
“Mr. Redwood, you have heard the request of Ropes, I will look to you to comply with it.”
“Very well, sir.”
The merchant turned back to his letters, and Rodney left the office, with what feelings of sorrow and humiliation may be imagined.
“I am sorry for this occurrence, Ropes,” said Mr. Redwood, with a touch of sympathy in his voice.
“Do you believe me guilty, Mr. Redwood?”
“I cannot do otherwise. I hope you are innocent, and, if so, that the really guilty party will be discovered sooner or later.”
“Thank you, sir.”
When they entered the room in which Rodney had been employed Jasper came up, his face alive with curiosity.
“Well,” he said, “how did you come out?”
“I am discharged,” said Rodney bitterly.
“Well, you couldn’t complain of that. Things looked pretty dark for you.”
“If I had committed the theft, I would not complain. Indeed, I would submit to punishment without a murmur. But it is hard to suffer while innocent.”
“Uncle James,” said Jasper, “if Ropes is going will you ask Mr. Goodnow to put me in his place?”
Even Mr. Redwood was disgusted by this untimely request.
“It would be more becoming,” he said sharply, “if you would wait till Ropes was fairly out of the store before applying for his position.”
“I want to be in time. I don’t want any one to get ahead of me.”
James Redwood did not deign a reply.
“I am sorry you leave us under such circumstances, Ropes,” he said. “The time may come when you will be able to establish your innocence, and in that case Mr. Goodnow will probably take you back again.”
Rodney did not answer, but with his order went to the cashier’s desk and received the four dollars due him. Then, with a heavy heart, he left the store where it had been such a satisfaction to him to work.
On Broadway he met his room mate, Mike Flynn, in the uniform of a telegraph boy.
“Where are you goin’, Rodney?” asked Mike. “You ain’t let off so early, are you?”
“I am let off for good and all, Mike.”
“What’s that?”
“I am discharged.”
“What for?” asked Mike in amazement.
“I will tell you when you get home tonight.”
Rodney went back to his room, and lay down sad and despondent. Some hours later Mike came in, and was told the story. The warm hearted telegraph boy was very angry.
“That boss of yours must be a stupid donkey,” he said.
“I don’t know. The parcel was found in my room.”
“Anybody’d know to look at you that you wouldn’t steal.”
“Some thieves look very innocent. The only way to clear me is to find out who left the bundle at the house.”
“Doesn’t Mrs. McCarty know anything about it?”
“No; I asked her.”
“Some one might have got into the house without her knowing anything about it. The lock is a very common one. There are plenty of keys that will open it.”
“If we could find some one that saw a person with a bundle go up the steps, that would give us a clew.”
“That’s so. We’ll ask.”
But for several days no one could be found who had seen any such person.
Meanwhile Rodney was at a loss what to do. He was cut off from applying for another place, for no one would engage him if he were refused a recommendation from his late employer. Yet he must obtain some employment for he could not live on nothing.
“Do you think, Mike,” he asked doubtfully, “that I could make anything selling papers?”
“Such business isn’t for you,” answered the telegraph boy.
“But it is one of the few things open to me. I can become a newsboy without recommendations. Even your business would be closed to me if it were known that I was suspected of theft.”
“Thats so,” said Mike, scratching his head in perplexity.
“Then would you recommend my becoming a newsboy?”
“I don’t know. You couldn’t make more’n fifty or sixty cent a day.”
“That will be better than nothing.”
“And I can pay the rent, or most of it, as I’ll be doin’ better than you.”
“We will wait and see how much I make.”
So Rodney swallowed his pride, and procuring a supply of afternoon papers set about selling them. He knew that it was an honest business, and there was no disgrace in following it.
But one day he was subjected to keen mortification. Jasper Redwood and a friend—it was Philip Carton, his confederate—were walking along Broadway, and their glances fell on Rodney.
“I say, Jasper,” said the elder of the two, “isn’t that the boy who was in the same store with you?”
Jasper looked, and his eyes lighted up with malicious satisfaction.
“Oho!” he said. “Well, this is rich!”
“Give me a paper, boy,” he said, pretending not to recognize Rodney at first. “Why, it’s Ropes.”
“Yes,” answered Rodney, his cheek flushing. “You see what I am reduced to. What paper will you buy?”
“The Mail and Express.”
“Here it is.”
“Can’t you get another place?” asked Jasper curiously.
“I might if I could get a recommendation, but probably Mr. Goodnow wouldn’t give me one.”
“No, I guess not.”
“So I must take what I can get.”
“Do you make much selling papers?”
“Very little.”
“You can’t make as much as you did in the store?”
“Not much more than half as much.”
“Do you live in the same place?”
“Yes, for the present.”
“Oh, by the way, Ropes, I’ve got your old place,” said Jasper in exultation.
“I thought you would get it,” answered Rodney, not without a pang.
“Come into the store some day, Ropes. It will seem like old times.”
“I shall not enter the store till I am able to clear myself of the charge made against me.”
“Then probably you will stay away a long time.”
“I am afraid so.”
“Well, ta, ta! Come along, Philip.”
As Rodney followed with his eye the figure of his complacent successor he felt that his fate was indeed a hard one.
CHAPTER XV
A RICH FIND
As Jasper and his companion moved away, Carton said, “I’m sorry for that poor duffer, Jasper.”
“Why should you be sorry?” asked Jasper, frowning.
“Because he has lost a good place and good prospects, and all for no fault of his own.”
“You are getting sentimental, Philip,” sneered Jasper.
“No, but I am showing a little humanity. He has lost all this through you–”
“Through us, you mean.”
“Well, through us. We have made him the scapegoat for our sins.”
“Oh well, he is making a living.”
“A pretty poor one. I don’t think you would like to be reduced to selling papers.”
“His case and mine are different.”
“I begin to think also that we have made a mistake in getting him discharged so soon.”
“We can’t take anything more.”
“Why not?”
“Because there will be no one to lay the blame upon. He is out of the store.”
“That is true. I didn’t think of that. But I invited him to come around and call. If he should, and something else should be missing it would be laid to him.”
“I don’t believe he will call. I am terribly hard up, and our source of income has failed us. Haven’t you got a dollar or two to spare?”
“No,” answered Jasper coldly. “I only get seven dollars a week.”
“But you have nearly all that. You only have to hand in two dollars a week to your uncle.”
“Look here, Philip Carton, I hope you don’t expect to live off me. I have all I can do to take care of myself.”
Carton looked at Jasper in anger and mortification.
“I begin to understand how good a friend you are,” he said.
“I am not fool enough to pinch myself to keep you,” said Jasper bluntly. “You are a man of twenty five and I am only a boy. You ought to be able to take care of yourself.”
“Just give me a dollar, or lend it Jasper, and I will risk it at play. I may rise from the table with a hundred. If I do I will pay you handsomely for the loan.”
“I couldn’t do it, Mr. Carton. I have only two dollars in my pocket, and I have none to spare.”
“Humph! what is that?”
Philip Carton’s eyes were fixed upon the sidewalk. There was a flimsy piece of paper fluttering about impelled by the wind. He stooped and picked it up.
“It is a five dollar bill,” he exclaimed in exultation. “My luck has come back.”
Jasper changed his tone at once. Now Philip was the better off of the two.
“That is luck!” he said. “Shall we go into Delmonico’s, and have an ice?”
“If it is at your expense, yes.”
“That wouldn’t be fair. You have more money than I.”
“Yes, and I mean to keep it myself. You have set me the example.”
“Come, Philip, you are not angry at my refusing you a loan?”
“No; I think you were sensible. I shall follow your example. I will bid you good night. I seem to be in luck, and will try my fortune at the gaming table.”
“I will go with you.”
“No; I would prefer to go alone.”
“That fellow is unreasonable,” muttered Jasper, as he strode off, discontented. “Did he expect I would divide my salary with him?”
Philip Carton, after he parted company with Jasper, walked back to where Rodney was still selling papers.
“Give me a paper,” he said.
“Which will you have?”
“I am not particular. Give me the first that comes handy. Ah, the Evening Sun will do.”
He took the paper and put a quarter into Rodney’s hand.
As he was walking away Rodney called out, “Stop, here’s your change,”
“Never mind,” said Philip with a wave of the hand.
“Thank you,” said Rodney gratefully, for twenty five cents was no trifle to him at this time.
“That ought to bring me luck,” soliloquized Philip Carton as he walked on. “It isn’t often I do a good deed. It was all the money I had besides the five dollar bill, and I am sure the news boy will make better use of it than I would.”
“That was the young man that was walking with Jasper,” reflected Rodney. “Well, he is certainly a better fellow than he. Thanks to this quarter, I shall have made eighty cents today, and still have half a dozen papers. That is encouraging.”
Several days passed that could not be considered lucky. Rodney’s average profits were only about fifty cent a day, and that was barely sufficient to buy his meals. It left him nothing to put towards paying room rent.
He began to consider whether he would not be compelled to pawn some article from his wardrobe, for he was well supplied with clothing, when he had a stroke of luck.
On Fifteenth Street, by the side of Tiffany’s great jewelry store, he picked up a square box neatly done up in thin paper. Opening it, he was dazzled by the gleam of diamonds.
The contents were a diamond necklace and pin, which, even to Rodney’s inexperienced eyes, seemed to be of great value.
“Some one must have dropped them in coming from the jewelry store,” he reflected. “Who can it be?”
He had not far to seek. There was a card inside on which was engraved:
MRS. ELIZA HARVEY,
with an address on Fifth Avenue.
Passing through to Fifth Avenue Rodney began to scan the numbers on the nearest houses. He judged that Mrs. Harvey must live considerably farther up the Avenue, in the direction of Central Park.
“I will go there at once,” Rodney decided. “No doubt Mrs. Harvey is very much distressed by her loss. I shall carry her good news.”
The house he found to be between Fortieth and Fiftieth Street. Ascending the steps he rang the bell. The door was opened by a man servant.
“Does Mrs. Harvey live here?” asked Rodney.
“What do you want with her, young man?” demanded the servant in a tone of importance.
“That I will tell her.”
“What’s your name?”
“I can give you my name, but she won’t recognize it.”
“Then you don’t know her.”
“No.”
“If it’s money you want, she don’t give to beggars.”
“You are impudent,” said Rodney hotly. “If you don’t give my message you will get into trouble.”
The servant opened his eyes. He seemed somewhat impressed by Rodney’s confident tone.
“Mrs. Harvey doesn’t live here,” he said.
“Is she in the house?”
“Well, yes, she’s visiting here.”
“Then why do you waste your time?” said Rodney impatiently. He forgot for the time that he was no longer being educated at an expensive boarding school, and spoke in the tone he would have used before his circumstances had changed.
“I’ll go and ask if she’ll see you,” said the flunky unwillingly.
Five minutes later a pleasant looking woman of middle age descended the staircase.
“Are you the boy that wished to see me?” she asked.
“Yes, if you are Mrs. Harvey.”
“I am. But come in! Thomas, why didn’t you invite this young gentleman into the parlor?”
Thomas opened his eyes wide. So the boy whom he had treated so cavalierly was a young gentleman.
He privately put down Mrs. Harvey in his own mind as eccentric.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said. “I didn’t know as he was parlor company.”
“Well, he is,” said Mrs. Harvey with a cordial smile that won Rodney’s heart.
“Follow me!” said the lady.
Rodney followed her into a handsome apartment and at a signal seated himself on a sofa.
“Now,” she said, “I am ready to listen to your message.”
“Have you lost anything?” asked Rodney abruptly.
“Oh, have you found it?” exclaimed Mrs. Harvey, clasping her hands.
“That depends on what you have lost,” answered Rodney, who felt that it was necessary to be cautious.
“Certainly, you are quite right. I have lost a box containing jewelry bought this morning at Tiffany’s.”
“What were the articles?”
“A diamond necklace and pin. They are intended as a present for my daughter who is to be married. Tell me quick have you found them?”
“Is this the box?” asked Rodney.
“Oh yes, yes! How delightful to recover it. I thought I should never see it again. Where did you find it?”
“On Fifteenth Street beside Tiffany’s store.”
“And you brought it directly to me?”
“Yes, madam.”
“Have you any idea of the value of the articles?”
“Perhaps they may be worth five hundred dollars.”
“They are worth over a thousand. Are you poor?”
“Yes, madam. I am trying to make a living by selling papers, but find it hard work.”
“But you don’t look like a newsboy.”
“Till a short time since I thought myself moderately rich.”
“That is strange. Tell me your story.”
