“I don’t see how I can help you any,” ventured the pawnbroker, looking
furtively at his companion.
“Well, you can; the first thing I need is money, and I must have it.”
“Go on with your scheme,” said the other, “and don’t always be talking
about money. I know that promises don’t amount to much. Now then, what
are you going to do?”
“I’m going to keep that girl from her father, and then I am one of the
trustees of the money, and if he does not change that part I shall be
all right for ready cash as soon as he shuffles off, but I spoke my
mind the night he made the new will, and there is no telling what he
will do, only that his hands now are useless.”
“Then you care for the funds?” began the broker.
“Yes, until this girl puts in an appearance.”
“Don’t let her appear,” said the other.
“That’s just what I say,” went on Benson laughingly. “I know that I can
put her somewhere that she won’t bother me. Now, old man, will you help
me, and I’ll see that you are well paid?”
* * * * *
Just at this moment a young fellow with the air of a sailor came in.
“Are you the chump what runs this place?” asked he, going up to the
pawnbroker, “for if you are I want to pawn this suit of clothes. They
are bran’ new, and ought to give me a little ready cash.”
“I’ll look at them when I get through with this gentleman,” and the
broker turned disdainfully away.
Then the two, Tom Cooper and Benson, recognized each other.
“Well, well, Tom, you do look like a typical Jack in earnest. So
you’ve come back to try your luck, have you, again upon land?”
“Yes, siree, to get even with you, Mr. Benson,” replied the sailor.
“You lied about me; that I know. Now I am going to see just what you
are doing, Mr. George Benson.”
“Well, don’t you monkey in my affairs,” shouted George, “or I will deal
with you as I did before. You went from New York because I made it too
hot to hold you. Now, be careful.”
“Oh, I suppose you’d like to hurt me all right. I went to see Mr.
Benson last night, and they said he was too sick to see anyone.”
“So he is, to see a ragmuffin,” sneered Benson.
“It’s a wonder he harbors you, if he is so very particular,” retorted
Tom.
“So you tried to get into the house, did you?”
“Yes, why not? It was my home, the same as yours.”
“Not quite. You always were an interloper, so beware.”
Tom leaned far over and looked keenly at Benson.
“What have you done with Annie Benson?”
“What have I done with her?” replied Benson threateningly. “I don’t
know anything about her. She is nothing to me.”
How George Benson would have liked to have told the young fellow that
he was the beneficiary to his uncle’s will, but he knew that the boy
would find out differently, so he remained silent.
“What happened?” asked Nathans. “Did the old man give you the grand
bounce, too?”
“Yes, but not for anything that I did, but because of that villain
standing there. I suppose he thought that I would help find Miss Annie
and bring her back to her home. Well, that’s what I came back for, Mr.
Benson.”
Tom Cooper saw that he was putting the thorns into the other’s flesh,
and kept on: “I am going to spend the rest of my days finding that
girl.”
Benson walked close to him and looked into his face.
“I want to tell you something, Tom Cooper, you had better go back to
sea, for if you don’t I can tell you that there won’t be much show for
you if I once get my hands on you.”
“I’m not afraid of you, mister,” shouted Tom, snapping his fingers into
George’s face.
“And, what’s more,” he added, “I have made up my mind that you are not
playing fair with our little playmate of long ago, any more than you
used to play fair when you stole money from her father’s pocket. But I
am going to find her if it takes me all the rest of my life.”
“What’s that girl to you?” slowly asked George.
“Nothing, but I cannot forget the times when we were children that she
was with us, and now I am sure that she is having a hard time of it,
and I am going to find out anyhow.”
Just at this moment a woman came in with a clock in her hand.
“What will you give for this, Abe?” asked she. “Now, don’t be tight
about it, for the girl I’m a-selling it for is almost starved to death,
and I am going to pay her rent.”
“Oh, you’re like all the rest, Higgins,” blurted the broker, “always
got some reason why you should have money, more money than any one
else. You would have me in the poorhouse if you had your way.”
“But I must have two dollars for this,” insisted the woman. “Please,
Abe, it will save a woman from being turned out.”
“What do I care whether she is turned out or not as long as I don’t
have to take care of her?” sulkily asked the broker.
The pawnbroker left the woman for a moment to attend to a boy, who came
in with a watch.
“I want to get money on this,” said he.
The broker looked suspiciously at him.
“You stole this?” asked he softly.
“No, sir, I found it.”
“Now, look a-here, Jim Farren, I ain’t got no confidence in what you
say. You stole the last thing you brought to me, and I had to give it
up to the detective.”
“I didn’t steal that nuther,” sulkily replied the boy.
“Nevertheless, I was out five dollars, and unless you can prove that
you got this all right, then you will have to take it elsewhere, and
give me back that five dollars.”
“Like fun I will,” replied the boy, and he slouched out.
In the meantime the woman was listening to the spirited conversation
between the two other men. She could hear Tom stand up firmly for the
girl called “Annie.”
When she saw the pawnbroker go back to Benson and resume his
conversation with him, she went up to Tom:
“I heard you a-speaking to the young gentleman about finding a girl by
the name of Annie. I know one a-living near me in the next room, and
her father is rich. He sent her from home because she married against
his will, and she has one little girl named Helen.”
“Helen,” muttered Tom thoughtfully, looking at the woman as if he were
trying to bring something into his mind; “Helen, that was the name of
her mother. Will you take me to this girl, that I may see her?”
“Sure I will. Let me get this old stick to give me the money I want,
and then I’ll go with you.” With this she took the two dollars which
the man gave to her begrudgingly, and out of the shop they went, and
Mrs. Higgins led the way to her apartment.
But she did not notice that a poor woman walked along the street with
her child by the hand. This was one of those cases when it would have
been well for the woman to tell of the charity which she was going to
bestow, for then the tired sick mother would not have left her home.
She hurried on until she, too, reached the pawnshop and stepped inside,
dragging the frail child with her.
She walked to the counter with slow steps and said in a weak voice:
“I should like to pawn this jewel for as much money as you can give me.”
“I cannot give you much,” said the broker, “for it is plated.”
The woman raised her eyes pleadingly.
“You are mistaken,” said she. “My father gave it to me as a pure gem.”
“Then your father was fooled,” said the broker, “for it is nothing but
the meanest kind of a plate.”
The woman looked about hastily.
“What will you give for it?” said she weakly.
“Two dollars.”
“Two dollars! Why it cost thousands. I know that you are cheating me. I
shall not leave it.”
“Then take it somewhere else, and don’t bother me with it. I’ll be with
you in a moment, Benson.”
The woman again looked about.
“What, Benson,” whispered she, and then she caught sight of the cousin
who had been the cause of all of her trouble.
“Oh, so you are here, George Benson? Oh, I am so glad to see you. I
want to see my father, for I saw in the paper that he was very sick.”
“So he is,” surlily replied Benson, “and he does not want to be
bothered with you. Now, keep away from the house, for the servants have
had instructions to keep you out.”
“Where is Tom Cooper?” asked the girl.
“Gone to the devil, for all I know,” said Benson, looking at the little
bundle upon the floor, which by some great stroke of fate Tom Cooper
had left there.
“Oh, I am sure not so bad as that,” said she wistfully. “It is a shame
to talk that way of him. Why, George, as a boy he was better than you.”
“Where is your husband?” asked Benson, knowing well enough that he
was dead, for he had opened all the letters that had come in her
handwriting.
“Dead.”
“Oh, then, it was not all honey after you married him, was it?”
“He was good to me, and I believe that you made my father turn from me,
and I will go straight to him and tell him that you have kept us apart.”
The pawnbroker came up at this moment.
“Miss, if you have any crying to do, please go out, for I don’t want
you in here,” and, saying this, he gave poor Annie Standish a shove and
sent her into the street.
“Such people set me crazy,” stormed the old man, “as if my shop was to
be a fountain. I hate them all, that’s what I do.”
“That woman makes me feel as if I had nothing to live for,” gasped
Benson. “Just you let Tom Cooper see her, and I’ll bet you that my cake
will be dough in five minutes, but give me the money.”
“Are you sure that your uncle told you that you could have these
diamonds when he was no more? Now, if they should make a search for
them and claim that they were stolen, then I would have no chance but
to give them up. Now then, out with the truth.”
“Of course he told me that I could have them. Don’t be a fool.”
As the question was being argued the door opened and a detective
appeared.
“Nathans,” said he brusquely, “there has been a set of diamonds stolen
from Benson’s mansion, and they will probably be brought here, and if
so you keep them, for they will be wanted.”
The blood flew into George’s face, and he stepped upon the toe of the
pawnbroker.
Nathans feared that the box on the desk would be spied by the detective.
“I’ll watch,” said he after a while, “and if the jewels come in I’ll
tell you.”
“All right, and another thing, Benson is dying, and he wants his
daughter, and if you should see a poor woman come here to pawn anything
don’t let her go away without asking her name, for it might be worth
your while.”
“I don’t trouble myself about such people,” said the broker, “but as
long as you want me to I’ll keep on the watch.”
He had only turned his back for a moment before the pawnbroker was upon
the young man.
“So you think that I was going to pay you a thousand for stolen goods.
You are as bad as that Farren. I can’t watch you fellows enough.”
“You’d better give me some money, Nathans. How am I going to do work
with nothing? Now then, keep the jewels.”
“No, I don’t want them.”
Suddenly there came into the eyes of the other a light which made
Nathans ask Benson what he was thinking about.
“Put that box in that bundle of Tom Cooper, and by that way we will get
rid of him.”
“And make it appear that he stole the jewels?”
“And why not?” asked George. “Would it not get him out of the way for
at least five years, and if the girl is not found by that time I would
not give much for the fortune she would find in the meantime.”
“But how are you going to let the police know that he stole that box?”
asked Nathans.
“I’ll skip out and send the police, and then when he comes back you
pick a quarrel with him, and when that happens cry out and the police
will nab him, and then the searching of his bundle will make it look as
if he stole the jewels when he was at the mansion last night.”
“Bravo, old fellow; you’re all right. Here goes,” and into the sailor’s
bundle the jewels were slipped, but neither of the men knew that under
the counter was a shaggy little head, and that when they were not
looking a red hand was slipped to get the bundle and to relieve it
of the gems, but the incoming of Tom just at that moment gave him no
opportunity and the sailor ejaculated: “Well, old cove, what are you
going to give me for these clothes? I went all the way to that old
Irish lady’s house, and sure enough the woman wasn’t there. I suppose
that she had lit out to raise the dough for grub for herself and babe.”
As he spoke he took up the bundle and shook it lightly.
“Those clothes don’t look like much, for they’ve been wrapped upon the
ship, but they’re new, old sport.”
“You needn’t call me such names as that, young man,” said the
pawnbroker.
“That’s nothing,” laughed the sailor jovially, “for when a man gets as
old and shriveled as you are it shows that he’s been something of a
sport in his life.”
The pawnbroker looked furtively about.
“What you want on the clothes?”
“What’ll you give?”
“I’m afraid you stole them.”
The sailor drew up his big form slowly and sent his sleeve up to his
elbows.
“Oh, you do, do you? Well, I’ll smash your face if you talk that way to
me, you dirty old Jew.”
The pawnbroker had the chance he wanted, for he shouted out loud and
his clerk came running in.
“Call an officer, call an officer, for pity’s sake. This man is going
to fight me.”
“I wasn’t going to hurt the old swab,” cried Tom as the policeman laid
his fingers on his strong arm, “but the fool said I stole that bundle,
and it’s my clothes.”
“Well, you come along with me, my young man, for I think I’ve seen you
before.”
“Where?” asked Tom.
“In front of Mr. Benson’s home, on Fifth avenue, last night, and there
was a great robbery committed there a little later.”