BENTON OPENS THE TRUNK.
Soon after supper Albert Benton went to the village, and this left Grant
and Tom free to transfer their gold-dust to a trunk in Mr. Crambo’s
chamber. When the change had been made, Grant said in a satisfied tone:
“Now, Benton can open the chest and welcome.”
“I’d like to be present when he is doing it,” said Tom Cooper.
Albert Benton was anxious to obtain a key that would open the chest. He
scraped acquaintance with a clerk at the village hotel, and casually
remarked: “I’m in a bad fix. I’ve got a trunk at home that I can’t
open.”
“Why not?” asked the clerk.
“I haven’t a key that will fit it. You don’t happen to have any keys, do
you?”
“I’ve got half a dozen,” said the clerk, taking a handful from his
pocket. “They are keys that I picked up about the hotel.”
“Will you lend them to me?”
“Certainly. If you find one that suits, you can have it.”
Benton took them, well pleased. From the size it seemed to him probable
that one of them would fit the chest.
“Thank you,” he said. “I will return them to you to-morrow.”
“Oh, don’t be in any hurry. They are of no use to me.”
He left the hotel, and it chanced soon afterward that Grant and Tom
entered it. Tom was in search of a cigar, for he was a confirmed smoker.
“I just had a call from one of your fellow boarders,” remarked the
clerk, who knew both Tom and Grant.
“Benton?”
“Oh, is that his name? I only knew that he boarded at Paul Crambo’s.
Seems a sociable sort of fellow.”
“Quite so,” answered Tom dryly.
“He is talking of buying a restaurant in the village—the one kept by
Hardy.”
“I heard him mention it.”
“He says he was in that business in Sacramento.”
“Yes,” said Grant; “I knew him there.”
“I did him a favor to-night—lent him some keys,” continued the clerk.
As may be imagined, this announcement was of great interest to Tom and
Grant.
“What did he want keys for?” inquired Tom.
“He said he couldn’t open his trunk. He thought one of those I lent him
might do.”
Tom and Grant exchanged glances. They understood very well what it was
that Benton wanted to unlock.
“Did he think he would raise the money to buy the restaurant?” inquired
Tom.
“Yes, he said he was negotiating for a loan.”
Meanwhile Benton had observed Tom Cooper and Grant walking together. He
had the keys in his pocket, and was anxious to test the question whether
one of them would fit.
“Why shouldn’t I try this evening?” he asked himself. “It is a fine
night, and Grant and Cooper will probably stay out some time. If I could
only get the gold-dust and settle the matter about the restaurant
to-morrow! Hardy won’t keep it for me very long. He is likely to meet a
man with money any time.”
Benton kept on his way, and, seizing his opportunity, stole upstairs
quietly and, as he thought, unobserved. But Mrs. Crambo saw him and
suspected his purpose. When two minutes later Tom and Grant entered the
house, she remarked: “Mr. Benton has just gone upstairs.”
“I expected he would. He has borrowed some keys in the village.”
Tom removed his shoes, and went upstairs softly. He saw at once that the
door of his chamber was open. He approached quietly, and looked through
the crack. There was Benton on his knees before the chest, trying one
key after another.
At length he succeeded. The last key fitted the lock, and he raised the
lid eagerly.
“Now for it!” he muttered in a tone of exultation.
When the lid of the chest was opened, a pile of shirts and underclothing
was revealed. It is hardly necessary to say that Benton did not care for
these. He was in search of something more valuable.
Eagerly he took out the clothing and piled it on the floor beside the
chest. Then he looked anxiously for a box containing gold-dust, for it
had occurred to him as probable that the two friends would keep their
gold in a tin box. But to his deep disappointment no box was visible,
nor any other receptacle for the coveted dust.
“I was on a false scent!” he exclaimed bitterly. “Where in the world do
they keep their gold?”
He was beginning to replace the clothing in the chest, when the door was
opened and Tom Cooper and Grant entered. Benton sprang to his feet in
confusion, and tried to push his way out of the room. But at a signal
from Tom, Grant closed the door and set his back against it.
“Now, Mr. Albert Benton,” said Tom Cooper sternly, “what are you doing
here in our room?”
In spite of his assurance Albert Benton did not know what to say.
“I—I was in search of some old linen to wrap round my ankle,” he
stammered.
“And so you entered our room, and broke open my chest?”
“I hope you will excuse me, I was indiscreet,” muttered Benton.
“That is a very mild way of putting it,” retorted Tom. “Benton, you are
a thief.”
“Do—you—mean—to insult me?” asked Benton.
“Yes, if the truth insults you. Shall I tell you what you were after?”
Benton did not reply, and Tom Cooper resumed: “You thought we kept our
gold-dust in that chest.”
“Upon my honor!” protested Benton.
“The less you say about your honor the better,” returned Tom, with
contempt. “Grant, what shall we do with him?”
Benton began to be alarmed. Tom Cooper was a young giant. He had been
brought up to his father’s business, and his muscles were as firm and
strong as steel. Benton knew very well that he would be like a child in
his grasp.
“Spare me,” he said, “and I will not trouble you any more.”
“I don’t think you will if you know what is best for yourself. But you
deserve to be punished for what you have already done. Grant, open the
window.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Benton, in alarm.
“I’ll show you.”
Tom seized the thief, and bore him in his strong arms to the window. He
held him outside, making a futile resistance, and then dropped him.
The distance to the ground was only fifteen feet, and Benton landed on
all-fours, a little jarred, but not seriously hurt.
“Now,” said Tom, leaning out, “you had better leave this neighborhood as
expeditiously as possible, or I will brand you as a thief, and let the
citizens take what course they choose.”
Benton knew very well that in California at that time thieves were not
tolerated, and were often strung up to a tree without ceremony. He felt
that he had better not stand upon the order of his going, but go at
once.
“Let me go into the house and get my things,” he said submissively.
“Have you settled up your board bill with Mrs. Crambo?”
“I have only five dollars!” he pleaded.
“Let the board go!” said Mrs. Crambo, who was on the stairs. “All I ask
is that he shall go himself, and never come back.”
Benton crept upstairs, and, getting his small satchel, left the house.
Where he went Tom and Grant did not learn, nor did they care.
“That fellow will never thrive,” said Tom. “He has made a bad beginning.
Any man who wants to get rich by appropriating the property of another
is sure to come to a bad end.”
“I guess you are right, Tom,” said Grant. “I am relieved to have Benton
out of the house.”
“You have lost your boarder, Mrs. Crambo,” said Tom. “How much board is
he owing you?”
“About five dollars.”
“We will pay that; won’t we, Grant?”
“Certainly,” answered Grant.
“I won’t accept it,” said Mrs. Crambo decidedly. “It isn’t your fault
that Mr. Benton came here. As for the small sum he owes me, I can get
along without it. It won’t break me. I don’t believe you and your friend
have any money to spare.”
“We have been doing pretty well, Mrs. Crambo. We have no cause to
complain.”
“I am very glad to hear it, for you are likely to stay here longer. You
have been working hard, and you are entitled to all you have made.”
“Have you really been doing well, Mr. Cooper?” questioned Paul Crambo.
“Yes, Mr. Crambo; we haven’t made a fortune, but we have been very well
paid for our work. Would you like to buy a share in the claim?”
Paul Crambo shook his head.
“Digging for gold doesn’t agree with me,” he said. “You are young men,
and can stand it, but I have a pain in the back if I work over an hour.”
Tom Cooper anticipated this reply, or he would not have made the
proposal. He preferred to have Grant for his sole partner. Nor did he
care to have any third party know how rich the claim really was.
Notwithstanding the hint he had given, neither Mr. nor Mrs. Crambo had
any idea what a bonanza the boys had struck.