An old, well-dressed and fine-faced gentleman called at Mr. Leonard’s
store, and stood looking irresolutely down the long floor, as if in
doubt whom to address. A salesman approached, supposing him to be a
customer.
“What can I do for you, sir?” he asked.
“I came to inquire about a boy you have engaged here. I believe you
have a boy?”
“Yes, sir. I hope there is nothing wrong about him. Has he been in
mischief?”
“No, no. Just the contrary. Is he in?”
“Somewhere. He will be here in a minute. There he is now. I will send
him to you.”
Will came readily at the call of the salesman, who directed him to his
visitor.
“Want to see me?” asked Will, demurely, looking curiously at the old
man.
“Yes, my lad,” was the reply. “You ran away so quickly the other day
that I had no time to thank you for your kindness.”
“I twig you now,” said Will, vigorously. “You’re the old chap I picked
up from under the car-wheels. Glad to see you ag’in.”
“I would like you to come to my house. I want to have a talk with you.”
“Ain’t got no notion of being talked to death,” said Will. “Let’s have
it here.”
“No,” said the old gentleman, decidedly. “I can’t interfere with Mr.
Leonard’s business. Here is my card. I hope you will call on me this
evening. What is your name, my lad?”
“Willful Will is what folks generally call me. I s’pose that’s name
enough. What’s yourn?”
“My name is John Somers.”
“Hanged if the old chap ain’t got the same name as I have,” said Will
to himself.
“Well, I’ll swim round your way some time afore long,” he said, aloud.
“Live out Arch street, hey? That’s grandeur.”
“I am wealthy, my lad, and alone in the world. I try to do some little
good with my money. I owe you a debt of gratitude which I wish to
repay.”
“All right. I’m your hoss,” said Will, energetically. “Don’t want no
gratitude, an’ nothin’ else I don’t earn with my fingers and toes. But
I’ll get round jist to see how you live.”
After some few words more Will’s visitor departed leaving that young
gentleman in a whirl of suppressed amusement.
Will went reflectively back to his work.
At the same hour that Will was holding this interview with the grateful
old gentleman, John Elkton was holding an interview of another
character with his betrothed.
He had received a brief note from her that morning, vaguely detailing
the suspicions in regard to her silken bow, and asking him to meet her.
The letter had produced a strong effect on his mind. He read it again
and again, the mystery remaining unexplained to him. He could only
understand that he had been accused of some crime.
“What does it mean, Jennie?” he asked. “Your note is as mysterious as a
Sphinx. Have I murdered somebody and forgotten it?”
“It is in relation to this,” she replied, holding out the bow. “It
is claimed that this silk was stolen, and they suspect you of being
implicated.”
“Who claims so? Who suspects me?” he cried, hotly.
“Mr. Leonard declares most positively that it is a piece of some silk
that has just been stolen from him.”
“This is a strange story you tell me, Jennie,” he said, leaning his
head reflectively on his hand. “You told Mr. Leonard that I gave you
the silk?”
“I did not!” she broke out, impulsively. “I refused to tell him. I
suffered torments when I heard this terrible story, heard doubts
cast on you. I refused bitterly to answer him. I do not know what he
thought. He did not seem to suspect you.”
“Who did, then?” asked her lover, looking intently into her eyes.
“It was his confidential clerk, Mr. Augustus Wilson. I have had a
distressing interview with him. He accuses you openly of theft, and
says that he has convincing proofs against you.”
“He lies, then,” cried John, indignantly. “I defy him to his proofs.
Did he tell you what they were?”
“No. He promised to conceal or destroy them, if I wished.”
“Promised! It was only a promise?”
“A promise with a proviso. I was, if I would save you, to break our
engagement, to accept his love, to promise to be his wife.”
“Well, that’s cool!” said John, with a long breath. “I’m to be
thrown overboard, it seems. And of course you felt great pity and
consideration for me, and wanted to save me, and saw no way to do it
but by accepting this desirable offer?”
His tones were full of bitterness.
She laid her hand on his lips with a touch that was almost a blow.
Indignation flamed into her face.
“You are not serious in that question?” she cried. “You cannot think so
meanly of me? Accept him! I rejected him with the scorn his base offer
deserved. I told him Jennie Arlington was not for sale.”
“That’s my own Jennie,” he replied, kissing her burning lips. “I knew
how you would answer such a suit.”
“Yet I did it with a horrible fear at my heart--a fear that he _had_
the proofs, that he _would_ have you arrested for theft.”
“Do I understand that you thought me capable of such a crime?”
“No, no! I knew you were innocent, but I knew how suspicious
circumstances will sometimes condemn an innocent man. Valuable silks
have been stolen from Mr. Leonard. You have some of them in your
possession. You will be required to explain how you obtained them, and
to save yourself by revealing the real culprit.”
He threw himself in his chair, and leaned his head heavily upon his
hands. Marks of painful reflection passed over his face. She looked
eagerly but doubtfully into his speaking countenance.
“Tell me, John,” she said, “where did you get the silk? Who gave it to
you, or how did you obtain it?”
He remained silent a minute longer before answering her question.
“I cannot, Jennie,” he replied. “It is a secret which I cannot reveal.”
She passed over to him and took his hand in hers, looking eagerly into
his downcast eyes.
“Not even to me, John?” she asked.
“Not even to you, Jennie,” he replied.
She took her seat again, a look of deep distress upon her face. Was
this love? This the confidence with which love should be crowned?
“My secrets are yours,” he said, catching at the meaning of her action.
“This is not my secret, and I am not at liberty to reveal it.”
“And am I to understand, John Elkton,” she broke out, “that you are
the recipient of a disgraceful secret? That you are concerned with
criminals? That you have made me a receiver of stolen goods? I repelled
the insinuation with scorn when made by another. I did not expect to
have it confirmed by yourself.”
“Now, Jennie, you are hot and hasty again,” he said, rising, and
passing his hand over her flushed brow. “You will force me to say what
I had rather not. I received the silk innocently. That is all I can say
at present.”
“You tell me much in that,” she said, with a smile of relief. “You do
not know how sick at heart I felt when I thought you were accusing
yourself. I believe you firmly, John. But, suppose they accuse you?
Such an answer will not serve.”
“They will get no other. Not yet, at least.”
But we must close this conversation, as it ceases here to interest us.
Shortly after, John saw her to the car, on her way home.
He had still another interview that afternoon. It was after Jennie was
well on her way home, and he had returned to his office duties, that
his name was called in the store, and he was informed that a gentleman
had asked to see him.
He went out. The person who advanced to meet him was a stranger: a
slender, sharp-eyed man.
“Mr. Elkton?” he asked, with a keen look at John’s face.
“That’s my name,” was the reply.
“I wish a few words with you,” he said, leading out of hearing of the
salesman.
“I shall be happy to oblige you in any way,” said John, “but excuse me
for hoping that you will be brief, as I am quite busy.”
“I will not detain you long,” said the other, “but will do my business
at once. You know a lady named Miss Arlington?”
“Yes,” replied John, wondering.
“You lately presented her with a small piece of silk, of peculiar
pattern?”
“Well, sir, to what do these questions tend?” asked John, reddening.
“Only that I would be glad to have you inform me where you got that
silk.”
“Suppose I decline to inform you?”
“I hope you will not,” replied the other, coolly, “as in that case I
shall be obliged to put you to personal inconvenience.”
“Who are you?” asked John.
“My name is Fitler,” replied the other. “I am a detective officer. I
have to inform you that the silk in question was stolen. I hope and
believe that you can satisfactorily explain your possession of it. But
I shall require you to do so.”
“I can, but not at present.”
“It must be done at present.”
“Must is a strong term, Mr. Fitler. I decline to be governed by it.”
“Which means that you will not explain. Or else that you cannot. Your
refusal gives me a disagreeable duty, Mr. Elkton.”
“Which is?” replied John, coolly.
“To arrest you, on a criminal charge,” said Mr. Fitler, laying his hand
heavily on John’s shoulder.