IN WHICH HARRY PASSES THROUGH HIS SEVEREST TRIAL, AND ACHIEVES HIS
GREATEST TRIUMPH
Three years may appear to be a great while to the little pilgrim
through life's vicissitudes; but they soon pass away and are as "a
tale that is told." To note all the events of Harry's experience
through this period would require another volume; therefore I can only
tell the reader what he was, and what results he had achieved in that
time. It was filled with trials and temptations, not all of which were
overcome without care and privation. Often he failed, was often
disappointed, and often was pained to see how feebly the Spirit warred
against the Flesh.
He loved money, and avarice frequently prompted him to do those things
which would have wrecked his bright hopes. That vision of the grandeur
and influence of the rich man's position sometimes deluded him,
causing him to forget at times that the soul would live forever, while
the body and its treasures would perish in the grave. As he grew
older, he reasoned more; his principles became more firmly fixed; and
the object of existence assumed a more definite character. He was an
attentive student, and every year not only made him wiser, but better.
I do not mean to say that Harry was a remarkably good boy, that his
character was perfect, or anything of the kind. He meant well, and
tried to do well, and he did not struggle in vain against the trials
and temptations that beset him. I dare say those with whom he
associated did not consider him much better than themselves. It is
true, he did not swear, did not frequent the haunts of vice and
dissipation, did not spend his Sundays riding about the country; yet
he had his faults, and captious people did not fail to see them.
He was still with Wake & Wade, though he was a salesman now, on a
salary of five dollars a week. He still boarded with Mrs. Flint,
though Edward was no longer his room-mate. A year had been sufficient
to disgust his "fast" companion with the homely fare and homely
quarters of his father's house; and, as his salary was now eight
dollars a week, he occupied a room in the attic of a first-class
hotel.
Harry was sixteen years old, and he had three hundred dollars in the
Savings Bank. He might have had more if he had not so carefully
watched and guarded against the sin of avarice. He gave some very
handsome sums to the various public charities, as well as expended
them in relieving distress wherever it presented itself. It is true,
it was sometimes very hard work to give of his earnings to relieve the
poor; and if he had acted in conformity with the nature he had
inherited, he might never have known that it was "more blessed to give
than to receive." As he grew older, and the worth of money was more
apparent, he was tempted to let the poor and the unfortunate take care
of themselves; but the struggle of duty with parsimony rendered his
gifts all the more worthy.
Joe Flint had several times violated his solemn resolution to drink no
more ardent spirits; but Harry, who was his friend and confidant,
encouraged him, when he failed, to try again; and it was now nearly a
year since he had been on a "spree."
Our hero occasionally heard from Rockville; and a few months before
the event we are about to narrate he had spent the pleasantest week of
his life with Julia Bryant, amid those scenes which were so full of
interest to both of them. As he walked through the woods where he had
first met the "little angel"--she had now grown to be a tall girl--he
could not but recall the events of that meeting. It was there that he
first began to live, in the true sense of the word. It was there that
he had been born into a new sphere of moral existence.
Julia was still his friend, still his guiding star. Though the freedom
of childish intimacy had been diminished, the same heart resided in
each, and each felt the same interest in the other. The correspondence
between them had been almost wholly suspended, perhaps by the
interference of the "powers" at Rockville, and perhaps by the growing
sense of the "fitness of things" in the parties. But they occasionally
met, which amply compensated for the deprivations which propriety
demanded.
But I must pass on to the closing event of my story--it was Harry's
severest trial, yet it resulted in his most signal triumph.
Edward Flint was always short of money. He lived extravagantly, and
his increased salary was insufficient to meet his wants. When Harry
saw him drive a fast horse through the streets on Sundays, and heard
him say how often he went to the theatre, what balls and parties he
attended--when he observed how elegantly he dressed, and that he wore
a gold chain, a costly breastpin and several rings--he did not wonder
that he was "short." He lived like a prince, and it seemed as though
eight dollars a week would be but a drop in the bucket in meeting his
expenses.
One day, in his extremity, he applied to Harry for the loan of five
dollars. Our hero did not like to encourage his extravagance, but he
was good-natured, and could not well avoid doing the favor, especially
as Edward wanted the money to pay his board. However, he made it the
occasion for a friendly remonstrance, and gave the spendthrift youth
some excellent advice. Edward was vexed at the lecture; but, as he
obtained the loan, he did not resent the kindly act.
About a fortnight after, Edward paid him the money. It consisted of a
two-dollar bill and six half dollars. Harry was about to make a
further application of his views of duty to his friend's case, when
Edward impatiently interrupted him, telling him that, as he had got
his money, he need not preach. This was just before Harry went home to
dinner.
On his return Mr. Wake called him into the private office, and when
they had entered he closed and locked the door. Harry regarded this as
rather a singular proceeding; but, possessing the entire confidence of
his employers, it gave him no uneasiness.
"Harry," Mr. Wake began, "we have been losing money from the store for
the last year or more. I have missed small sums a great many times."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Harry, not knowing whether he was regarded as a
confidant or as the suspected person.
"To-day I gave a friend of mine several marked coins, with which he
purchased some goods. These coins have all been stolen."
"Is it possible, sir!"
"Now, we have four salesmen besides yourself. Which stole it?"
"I can form no idea, sir," returned Harry. "I can only speak for
myself."
"Oh, well, I had no suspicion it was you," added Mr. Wade, with a
smile. "I am going to try the same experiment again; and I want you to
keep your eyes on the money drawer all the rest of the afternoon."
"I will do so, sir."
Mr. Wade took several silver coins from his pocket and scratched them
in such a way that they could be readily identified, and then
dismissed Harry, with the injunction to be very vigilant.
When he came out of the office he perceived that Edward and Charles
Wallis were in close conversation.
"I say, Harry, what's in the wind?" asked the former, as our hero
returned to his position behind the counter.
Harry evaded answering the question, and the other two salesmen, who
were very intimate and whose tastes and amusements were very much
alike, continued their conversation. They were evidently aware that
something unusual had occurred, or was about to occur.
Soon after, a person appeared at the counter and purchased a dozen
spools of cotton, offering two half dollars in payment. Harry kept his
eye upon the money drawer, but nothing was discovered. From what he
knew of Edward's mode of life, he was prepared to believe that he was
the guilty person.
The experiment was tried for three days in succession before any
result was obtained. The coins were always found in the drawer; but on
the fourth day, when they were very busy, and there was a great deal
of money in the drawer, Harry distinctly observed Edward, while making
change, take several coins from the till. The act appalled him; he
forgot the customer to whose wants he was attending, and hastened to
inform Mr. Wake of the discovery.
"Where are you going, Harry?" asked Edward, as he passed him.
"Only to the office," replied he; and his appearance and manner might
have attracted the attention of any skillful rogue.
"Come, Harry, don't leave your place," added Edward, playfully
grasping him by the collar, on his return.
"Don't stop to fool, Edward," answered Harry, as he shook him off and
took his place at the counter again.
He was very absent-minded the rest of the forenoon, and his frame
shook with agitation as he heard Mr. Wake call Edward shortly after.
But he trembled still more when he was summoned also, for it was very
unpleasant business.
"Of course, you will not object to letting me see the contents of
your pockets, Edward," said Mr. Wake, as Harry entered the office.
"Certainly not, sir;" and he turned every one of his pockets inside
out.
Not one of the decoy pieces was found upon him, or any other coins,
for that matter; he had no money. Mr. Wake was confused, for he fully
expected to convict the culprit on the spot.
"I suppose I am indebted to this young man for this," continued
Edward, with a sneer. "I'll bet five dollars he stole the money
himself, if any has been stolen. Why don't you search him?"
"Search me, sir, by all means," added Harry; and he began to turn his
pockets out.
From his vest pocket he took out a little parcel wrapped in a shop
bill.
"What's that?" said Edward.
"I don't know. I wasn't aware that there was any such thing in my
pocket."
"I suppose not," sneered Edward.
"But you seem to know more about it than Edward," remarked Mr. Wade,
as he took the parcel.
"I know nothing about it."
The senior opened the wrapper, and to his surprise and sorrow found it
contained two of the marked coins. But he was not disposed hastily to
condemn Harry. He could not believe him capable of stealing; besides,
there was something in Edward's manner which seemed to indicate that
our hero was the victim of a conspiracy.
"As he has been so very generous towards me, Mr. Wake," interposed
Edward, "I will suggest a means by which you may satisfy yourself. My
mother keeps Harry's money for him, and perhaps, if you look it over,
you will find more marked pieces."
"Mr. Wake, I'm innocent," protested Harry, when he had in some measure
recovered from the first shock of the heavy blow. "I never stole a
cent from anybody."
"I don't believe you ever did, Harry. But can you explain how this
money happened to be in your pocket?"
"I cannot, sir. If you wish to look at my money, Mrs. Flint will show
it to you."
"Perhaps I had better."
"Don't let him go with you, though," said Edward, maliciously.
Mr. Wake wrote an order to Mrs. Flint, requesting her to exhibit the
money, and Harry signed it. The senior then hastened to Avery Street.
"Now, Master Spy!" sneered Edward, when he had gone. "So you have been
watching me, I thought as much."
"I only did what Mr. Wade told me to do," replied Harry, exceedingly
mortified at the turn the investigation had taken.
"Humph! That is the way with you psalm-singers. Steal yourself, and
lay it to me!"
"I did not steal. I never stole in my life."
"Wait and see."
In about half an hour Mr. Wake returned.
"I am sorry, Harry, to find that I have been mistaken in you. Is it
possible that one who is outwardly so correct in his habits should be
a thief? But your career is finished," said he, very sternly, as he
entered the office.
"Nothing strange to the rest of us," added Edward. "I never knew one
yet who pretended to be so pious that did not turn out a rascal."
"And such a hypocrite!"
"Mr. Wake, I am neither a thief nor a hypocrite," replied Harry, with
spirit.
"I found four of the coins--four half dollars--which I marked first,
at Mrs. Flint's," said the senior, severely.
Harry was astounded. Those half dollars were part of the money paid
him by Edward, and he so explained how they came in his possession.
"Got them from me!" exclaimed Edward, with well-feigned surprise. "I
never borrowed a cent of him in my life; and, of course, never paid
him a cent."
Harry looked at Edward, amazed at the coolness with which he uttered
the monstrous lie. He questioned him in regard to the transaction, but
the young reprobate reiterated his declaration with so much force and
art that Mr. Wake was effectually deceived.
Our hero, conscious of his innocence, however strong appearances were
against him, behaved with considerable spirit, which so irritated Mr.
Wake that he sent for a constable, and Harry soon found himself in
Leverett Street Jail. Strange as it may seem to my young friends, he
was not very miserable there. He was innocent, and he depended upon
that special Providence which had before befriended him to extricate
him from the difficulty. It is true, he wondered what Julia would say
when she heard of his misfortune. She would weep and grieve; and he
was sad when he thought of her. But she would be the more rejoiced
when she learned that he was innocent. The triumph would be in
proportion to the trial.
On the following day he was brought up for examination. As his name
was called, the propriety of the court was suddenly disturbed by an
exclamation of surprise from an elderly man, with sun-browned face and
monstrous whiskers.
"Who is he?" almost shouted the elderly man, regardless of the dignity
of the court.
An officer was on the point of turning him out; but his earnest manner
saved him. Pushing his way forward to Mr. Wake, he questioned him in
regard to the youthful prisoner.
"Strange! I thought he was dead!" muttered the elderly man, in the
most intense excitement.
The examination proceeded. Harry had a friend who had not been idle,
as the sequel will show.
Mr. Wake first testified to the facts we have already related, and the
lawyer, whom Harry's friends had provided, questioned him in regard to
the prisoner's character and antecedents. Edward Flint was then
called. He was subjected to a severe cross-examination by Harry's
counsel, in which he repeatedly denied that he had ever borrowed or
paid any money to the accused.
Mr. Wade was the next witness. While the events preceding Harry's
arrest were transpiring, he had been absent from the city, but had
returned early in the afternoon. He disagreed with his partner in
relation to our hero's guilt, and immediately set himself to work to
unmask the conspiracy, for such he was persuaded it was.
He testified that, a short time before, Edward had requested him to
pay him his salary two days before it was due, assigning as a reason
the fact that he owed Harry five dollars, which he wished to pay. He
produced two of the marked half dollars, which he had received from
Edward's landlady.
Of course, Edward was utterly confounded; and, to add to his
confusion, he was immediately called to the stand again. This time his
coolness was gone; he crossed himself a dozen times, and finally
acknowledged, under the pressure of the skillful lawyer's close
questioning, that Harry was innocent. He had paid him the money found
in Mrs. Flint's possession, and had slipped the coins wrapped in the
shop bills into his pocket when he took him by the collar on his
return from the office.
He had known for some time that the partners were on the watch for the
thief. He had heard them talking about the matter; but he supposed he
had managed the case so well as to exonerate himself and implicate
Harry, whom he hated for being a good boy.
Harry was discharged. His heart swelled with gratitude for the kindly
interposition of Providence. The trial was past--the triumph had come.
Mr. Wake, Mr. Wade, and other friends, congratulated him on the happy
termination of the affair; and while they were so engaged the elderly
man elbowed his way through the crowd to the place where Harry stood.
"Young man, what is your father's name?" he asked, in tones tremulous
with emotion.
"I have no father," replied Harry.
"You had a father--what was his name?"
"Franklin West; a carpenter by trade. He went from Redfield to
Valparaiso when I was very young, and we never heard anything from
him."
"My son!" exclaimed the stranger, grasping our hero by the hand, while
the tears rolled down his brown visage.
Harry did not know what to make of this announcement.
"Is it possible that you are my father?" asked he.
"I am, Harry; but I was sure you were dead. I got a letter, informing
me that your mother and the baby had gone; and about a year after I
met a man from Rockville who told me that you had died also."
"It was a mistake."
They continued the conversation as they walked from the court room to
the store. There was a long story for each to tell. Mr. West confessed
that, for two years after his arrival at Valparaiso, he had
accomplished very little. He drank hard, and brought on a fever, which
had nearly carried him off. But that fever was a blessing in disguise;
and since his recovery he had been entirely temperate. He had nothing
to send to his family, and shame prevented him from even writing to
his wife. He received the letter which conveyed the intelligence of
the death of his wife and child, and soon after learned that his
remaining little one was also gone.
Carpenters were then in great demand in Valparaiso. He was soon in a
condition to take contracts, and fortune smiled upon him. He had
rendered himself independent, and had now returned to spend his
remaining days in his native land. He had been in Boston a week, and
happened to stray into the Police Court, where he had found the son
who, he supposed, had long ago been laid in the grave.
Edward Flint finished his career of "fashionable dissipation" by being
sentenced to the house of correction. Just before he was sent over, he
confessed to Mr. Wade that it was he who had stolen Harry's money,
three years before.
The next day Harry obtained leave of absence, for the purpose of
accompanying his father on a visit to Redfield. He was in exuberant
spirits. It seemed as though his cup of joy was full. He could hardly
realize that he had a father--a kind, affectionate father--who shared
the joy of his heart.
They went to Redfield; but I cannot stop to tell my readers how
astonished Squire Walker, and Mr. Nason, and the paupers were, to see
the spruce young clerk come to his early home, attended by his
father--a rich father, too.
We can follow our hero no farther through the highways and byways of
his life-pilgrimage. We have seen him struggle like a hero through
trial and temptation, and come off conqueror in the end. He has found
a rich father, who crowns his lot with plenty; but his true wealth is
in those good principles which the trials, no less than the triumphs,
of his career have planted in his soul.