MRS. VERNON'S BANK ACCOUNT.
"How did you find Frederic?" was Mrs. Vernon's first question when
Robert joined her.
"He seems to be doing very well," answered the young secretary. "I
don't think he was quite as sick as he made out to be."
"He was certainly sick when he came here. And he must have been very
sick to fall and hurt himself on the neck and cheek."
"Perhaps you are right, Mrs. Vernon, I never had much to do with sick
people."
"Did he ask you anything about yourself?"
"He asked me about the diamond scarfpin. I told him that you had given
it to me."
"If Frederic really reforms I will get him one, too. What else did he
ask about, Robert?"
"Well, he asked about you."
"And what did you say?"
"Maybe I had better not repeat our talk, Mrs. Vernon."
"Did you quarrel?"
"He was quite angry because I would not tell him about your will. He
wanted to know if you had changed it lately."
"And what did you tell him?"
"That I knew nothing of a will."
Mrs. Vernon became thoughtful.
"I presume it would be a shame to cut him off," she said slowly.
"Have you done that?"
"Not yet. In my last will, which Mr. Farley holds, he is almost my
sole heir. But I have been thinking of changing my will and leaving
him only a quarter of my estate,--one-half of the whole estate to go
to charitable institutions, and the remaining quarter to go to my
friends, including yourself."
"I did not expect anything to be left to me, Mrs. Vernon. You have
given me enough--in fact, more than enough--already."
"You have been like a son to me, Robert. But about Frederic--if he
really and truly reforms, I think I will leave him the bulk of my
fortune."
"I would not be too hasty. You see, I haven't forgotten the plot he
and the doctor hatched against you."
"I will be very careful. I shall watch him for a year, and if during
that time he does not reform thoroughly, I shall cut him off with a
very small allowance, say a thousand dollars."
"A thousand dollars wouldn't be bad for most young fellows. But to him
it will be nothing. By the way, he seems to have quite some money."
"I have noticed that, too, and it has puzzled me greatly, for, as you
are aware, I have cut down his allowance."
"Perhaps somebody has loaned him some money."
"It is possible. But I know, through Mr. Farley, that he was in debt
to many of his friends, and these folks will not go on loaning money
forever."
"They may be banking on his prospects."
"Then they may get left, as the saying goes. I sincerely wish that
Frederic would settle down to some business and make a man of
himself."
Here the conversation changed, and soon after Mrs. Vernon went into
the house, while Robert walked down to the river to take a row. Left
to himself, Frederic Vernon stole back to his boarding quarters.
"So she will cut me off with a paltry thousand dollars unless I
reform, eh, and she is going to watch me for a whole year," he
muttered to himself. "I wonder when she will hear from that forged
check? I hope it doesn't come in before I have time to arrange my
future plans."
The more he thought of the matter, the more did the forged check worry
him. He had hoped to get possession of his aunt's mail by applying at
the local post-office, but this scheme had fallen through, as the mail
was delivered only to Mrs. Vernon or to Robert, and orders were to
deliver it to no one else.
Several days went by, and now Frederic came to see his aunt regularly
morning, afternoon, and evening. From her he learned that she thought
of going to Paris, and he eagerly favored the scheme, hoping that
through the change he might be able to get the mail.
But he was doomed to bitter disappointment. Before any change could be
made there came a long letter from Mr. Farley, showing how money
matters stood. Among other things, this showed a deficiency in one
bank account of six hundred dollars.
Robert looked over this communication with the lady, for this was a
part of his work, Mrs. Vernon trusting him more and more every day
with her private affairs.
"I cannot understand this," she said, after referring to her various
bank accounts.
"Understand what, Mrs. Vernon?" he asked.
"The account at the American Exchange Bank is just six hundred dollars
short."
"Are you certain the stubs have been footed up properly?" asked
Robert, in much surprise.
"You footed them up yourself."
"So I did. But I will foot them up again."
The young secretary did so. "According to your check book, you have a
balance there of two thousand and three hundred dollars," he said,
when he had concluded his calculations.
"Exactly, and according to the bank rendering, made through Mr.
Farley, the sum is seventeen hundred dollars--just six hundred dollars
less. I cannot understand it."
Robert shook his head slowly, for he was as much puzzled as the lady.
"Let us look over the other accounts," he ventured.
"Perhaps the money was transferred without a showing being
made,--although I don't see how that could be."
There were six other bank accounts, running up to many thousands of
dollars, but each was correct to the cent.
"You never drew a check and forgot to charge it up against the
account, did you?" asked Robert.
"There is the book. Aren't all the stubs filled--I mean those from
which the checks have been detached?"
Robert looked through the book with care.
"Yes, every one is filled out," he said.
"Then I don't understand it." Mrs. Vernon leaped to her feet suddenly.
"Unless----" She stopped short.
"Unless----" repeated Robert, and then he, too, became silent. Both
had thought of Frederic Vernon at the same time.
"I do not think he would do it," went on the lady, almost pitifully.
"He has our family blood running in his veins. He would not be guilty
of such a terrible crime."
Robert said nothing, but he had his own opinion of the nephew who
would plot to put his aunt in the insane asylum just to get hold of
her money.
"What do you advise, Robert?" she asked, as she began to pace the
floor nervously.
"I would advise you to send to Chicago at once for an accounting from
the bank, giving the numbers of the checks you have really issued. If
you don't want the bank to know that something is wrong, transact the
business through Mr. Farley."
"I will do so. I will send a cablegram to America this very day."
Mrs. Vernon set to work to prepare her cablegram with great care. Of
course, the sending of such a message way off to Chicago would be
expensive, but just now she did not think of the money, she wanted to
know the truth concerning the shortage.
"If Frederic is guilty I will cut him off without a dollar," she said
quietly, but so firmly that Robert felt she meant what she said.
Robert was commissioned to take the cablegram to the nearest telegraph
office which could forward it, and on the way he met Frederic Vernon,
who was out walking.
"Hullo, Frost, come and take a walk with me," said the young man
patronizingly, as our hero approached.
"Thank you, but I just as lief walk alone," answered Robert shortly.
"Don't want to be sociable, eh? All right. Where are you bound?"
"That is my business."
"Humph!" Frederic Vernon stared at him for a moment. Then he walked on
without further words. But at the corner he looked back and saw Robert
enter the telegraph office.
"Something is in the wind," he muttered to himself, and retraced his
steps. Getting behind several other people, he drew close to the youth
and saw him send the message and pay a good round price for it.
"That message is going to Chicago, and I know it," he told himself,
after following Robert to the road once more. "Now what did it
contain? Has my aunt got wind of that forged check already? If so, I
must act quickly, or my cake will be dough. Whatever comes, she must
never live to alter her will."
All that night he brooded over the way matters had turned. He felt
that he would be made a beggar did his aunt discover the forgery. But
so far the only will she had made was in his favor. She must not be
allowed to make another.
"I must watch her closely," he told himself. "She frequently goes out
driving, and along the cliff back of the town, too. What if some day
her team took fright and went over the cliff? I don't believe she
would ever live to tell the tale, and the fortune would be mine!"
If Frederic Vernon was bitter against his aunt, he was also bitter
against Robert, for he now knew that our hero had exposed the plot to
get Mrs. Vernon into an insane asylum.
"He goes driving with her," thought the desperate man. "They can both
go over the cliff together!"