IN THE SILENT NIGHT
In his own room Hervey opened the satchel which circumstances had caused
him to carry home. He thought that since kind fate had brought the
opportunity, he would like to give one exceedingly low blast on a real
musical instrument. He was astonished to find that there was no musical
instrument in the satchel, but a tin box containing a small account
book, a number of bills with a rubber band around them, and an envelope
containing some loose change.
He contemplated this treasure aghast. Counting the bills he found them
to be in amount a trifle over a hundred dollars. Never before had he
handled so much money. He was a little afraid of it. He shook the sealed
envelope which was fat with coins; that alone seemed to contain a
fortune. He glanced at the book and found it to full of figures, entries
of receipts and expenditures. On the flyleaf was written:
Farrelton Merry Medley Serenaders,
Horton Manners, Treasurer.
He was greatly excited by this revelation. Here was a serious business,
a very grave consequence of a mischievous act. To be sure, the bringing
home of the satchel that did not belong to him would have been the same
in any case regardless of its contents. But just the same the sight of
so much money come into his possession in such a way, frightened him. He
had not thought of such a thing as this. You see Hervey never thought at
all--ever.
But he thought now. He had “colloped” (whatever that meant) the treasury
funds of this musical organization and he felt uneasy that he should
have to be the custodian of such a princely sum over night. _Money that
did not belong to him!_ Would his wanton act be construed as just
harmless mischief? He had always wanted to have a hundred dollars, but
now he was almost afraid to touch it. He replaced the box in the satchel
and put the satchel under his bed. Then he pulled it out again and put
it in his dresser. Then he closed and locked the window. When he was
half undressed, he took the satchel out of his dresser and stood holding
it not knowing where to put it. Then he put it back in the dresser.
He thought of going downstairs and telling his stepfather and getting
this awful fortune off his hands. But then he would have to tell how he
had come by it. Well, was that so very bad? Tripping a fellow up? But
would any one understand? He was very angry at the deserter Hinkey. And
he was equally angry that this dextrous little tripping stunt should
bear such consequences. It seemed to him that even poor Horton Manners
had taken a mean advantage.
He resolved that he would hunt up the musical treasurer in the morning
and return the satchel to him. He would hang on to it pretty carefully
going down the street, too. He did not know Horton Manners, but he could
find him. Of course, he would have to tell the man that he was sorry he
had tripped him up. And his explanation of why he had carried the
satchel home might sound rather queer. He was not too considerate of the
tripping treasurer. He was doomed to a sleepless night on account of
that “bimbo.” It was odd, more than it was significant, that Hervey, who
was afraid of no peril, was in panic fear of this hundred and some odd
dollars. He was just afraid of it.
Several times during that long night, he arose and groped his way to the
dresser to make sure that the satchel was safe. In the wee hours of the
night he was sorry that he had not hunted up Horton Manners immediately
after his escapade. But then he might have got home too late. On every
hand he seemed confronted with the high cost of mischief.
He wondered if the tripping treasurer was searching for the culprit with
the aid of the police. He felt sure that no one dreamed he was the
culprit. Would they, might they not already, have traced Hinkey? And
what would Hinkey say? He had a reassuring feeling that Hinkey could not
be identified as one of the culprits. _He_ certainly would not tell on
Hinkey. And he hoped that Hinkey would not be incriminated and tell on
him before he had a chance to return the satchel. But surely Mr. Horton
Manners had not gone home and to bed, doing nothing about the theft of
more than a hundred dollars. To the young treasurer the affair was a
plain robbery. Of course, Hervey could not sleep when his imagination
pictured the whole police and detective force of the town aroused by a
bold hold-up.
In the hour just before dawn Hervey, in his troubled half-sleep, heard a
knocking sound. Trembling all over, he pulled on his shirt and trousers,
crept stealthily downstairs and with a shaking hand and pounding heart
opened the front door.