THE BURGLARY.
All Afton awoke one Saturday morning in July, and speedily went into
a state of intense excitement. One of its largest stores on the main
street had been forcibly opened during the night, and robbed of goods
to the value of several hundred dollars.
The robbery was not discovered until the proprietor had come down to
the store in the morning, at the usual hour. Examination then showed
that the burglary had doubtless been committed by some one who was well
acquainted with the premises, and also by some one unaccustomed to such
work. An expert would have made a neater and a more thorough job of it.
The block in which the robbed store was situated stood at the corner of
Main and Bank Streets, and but a short distance from the Bay; in fact,
a narrow lane ran from the rear of the building directly down to the
wharves. The entrance to the store had been gained from an adjoining
one, which at that time was unoccupied. The back door of the empty
store had been carelessly left unlocked, and the robbers, entering
this room, had sawed a hole in the partition between the stores large
enough to permit them to crawl through. It then had been an easy task,
apparently, for them to unfasten the back door of the occupied store,
and carry the stolen goods down the narrow lane to the dock without
being discovered. Here they had possibly stowed the plunder they had
obtained into a boat, and carried it away. These facts showed that
whoever the guilty parties were, they were perfectly familiar with the
store and its surroundings.
On the other hand, the entrance to the store had been effected in a
bungling and unworkmanlike manner; and though an attempt had been
made to blow up the store safe, it had evidently failed because the
burglars had no proper tools for accomplishing their purpose. There was
also an apparent haste and indiscrimination in the selection of the
goods that had been taken, which an expert thief would scarcely have
manifested. Indeed, many of the articles taken seemed to suggest that
the robbers were youthful as well as inexperienced. These circumstances
together with the evident familiarity of the thieves with the store,
led the proprietor and the police to believe that the burglary had been
committed by some one living in or near the town; and consequently they
began their search for the criminals right at home.
It was not long before they found what appeared to them to be several
important clues leading toward the identification of the thieves. A
heavy thunder shower had set in the night before, about ten o'clock,
and had continued until long after midnight. Tracks at the rear door
of the store revealed the fact that the robbery must have taken place
_after_ the storm, and that there were two burglars, if not more. A
small piece of cloth was found attached to the edge of the hole in the
partition, and had the appearance of having been torn from the coat of
one of the robbers as he crawled through the opening. Later in the day
a coat was found under a pile of lumber on the wharf, of the very same
material as the scrap of cloth which had been found attached to the
partition between the stores, and, wrapped inside of it, were the saw
and auger which had been used to gain entrance to the building. It was
soon rumored also that this coat had been identified, and that one or
more arrests might be expected any moment.
It was Ray himself who had brought the tidings of the robbery to Long
Point Farm. He had gone over to the town the night before in the large
sail boat, as he was to bring back a load of grain. Mr. Woodhull had
tried at first to dissuade him from going, as there were already
signs of the approaching storm, and the night would doubtless, at the
time for his return, be exceedingly dark, even if the winds and waves
were not unfavorable. But Ray persisted. "Next month," he said, "Mr.
Carleton will be off on his vacation, and I wish to get along as far as
possible in my studies before he goes. If it should storm hard when I
am through with my recitation, I can remain with him until the tempest
is over. I'll take along the big sail cloth, to cover the grain; and as
long as I get around in time for the morning chores, it will make no
great difference."
As Mr. Woodhull made no further objection to his going, Ray cast off
the fastenings of the boat, and, with the wind directly across its
beam, started for the town. He arrived there about dark, but had time
to go up to the store before the meeting, and order the grain he wished
to be delivered at the wharf by half-past eight. He also did a number
of other errands; and, with his arms full of bundles, entered the
lecture room of the First Church just as the service began.
Many recalled afterward the prayer the lad offered that evening, not
so much for the ideas expressed in it as for the deep fervor and
consciousness of the Master's presence that it exhibited. "How that boy
grows in grace!" was the thought of more than one there that night.
When the meeting closed, it was already thundering heavily, and the
clouds looked as though it might rain at any moment. Ray therefore said
to his pastor:
"Mr. Carleton, I am afraid it will rain before I get through with my
recitation, and, as I have some grain down at the boat, I will first go
and see that it is properly covered, and put these bundles on board;
then I will come round to the parsonage."
A half hour later, he rang the parsonage bell, and when shown to the
study he seemed greatly stirred up about something, and Mr. Carleton
noticed also that he had on an old ragged coat, in the place of the one
he wore when he had left the church. Ray saw his pastor's glance at the
coat, and immediately said, apologetically:
"When I got down to the wharf, Mr. Carleton, I found the bags of grain
had been dumped out on the dock, and, taking off my coat, I laid it
on a pile of lumber near by, while I stowed them away in the boat and
covered them over with a sail cloth. When I had finished, and went to
get my coat, I couldn't find it; either I have overlooked it in the
darkness, or else some one stole it while I was at work. I happened to
have this old one on the boat, and so put it on to wear up here."
After talking awhile on the singularity of the circumstance, they
turned their attention to the lessons before them. When Ray had
completed his recitation it was raining hard, and at Mr. Carleton's
suggestion he waited for it to hold up. Toward midnight, as there
seemed to be no cessation of the storm, he told Mr. Carleton he would
not keep him up any longer, and arose to go.
"You had better remain right here to-night," Mr. Carleton said, "and go
home early in the morning."
"No," replied Ray; "I'll go down to my boat and crawl into the cuddy,
and as soon as the storm slackens I'll drop down the bay."
He even refused the umbrella Mr. Carleton offered him, and darted off
through the rain and darkness. Both of them, however, soon had reason
to wish he had remained there quietly until morning.
When Ray reached the boat, he first examined the grain, to see that it
was fully protected from the storm; then he crawled into the little
cabin of the boat and lay down. It was not his intention to go to
sleep, but it was late and he was tired, and soon a drowsiness crept
over him, and in spite of every effort on his part to throw it off,
he succumbed to it. He must have slept long and soundly, for it was
broad daylight when he awoke. Provoked at himself for going to sleep at
all, he crawled out of the cuddy, and began to make preparations for
dropping down the bay. He thought, however, of his missing coat, and
took a few minutes to look over the lumber for it, but without finding
a trace of it. He now threw off the hindward fastening to his boat, and
then stepped along to the bow to undo the fastening there, when he was
attracted by a crowd up at the corner of Main and Bank Streets, and ran
up there to see what the trouble was. He now learned of the burglary,
and it was while he stood there that the bit of cloth was found
clinging to the opening in the partition. Ray, with others, looked at
it, then he turned abruptly, and hurrying from the store went down to
the boat, cast off his painter, and started for Long Point Farm.
He did not arrive there until Mr. Woodhull had completed the morning
chores, and that gentleman at once noticed that he seemed to be
troubled and perplexed about something; but when he told of the loss of
his coat, and that he had overslept himself, Mr. Woodhull thought these
things fully accounted for his singular behavior. He felt sure of it
when Ray said: "I never before had to have you do my work for me, and I
shall take care that such a thing does not happen again."
"Oh," said Mr. Woodhull, laughingly, "I am extremely glad you have
failed to be on time once; you are usually so punctual it is refreshing
to find that you, like the rest of us, are sometimes obliged to yield
to circumstances." And then the matter dropped.
All the forenoon Ray, while he kept busily at work, seemed to be
unusually thoughtful and pre-occupied. It was not until they were at
dinner that he spoke of the robbery, and then he only briefly explained
that he had been attracted by the crowd around the store before he
left the village, and going up to the building he had learned of the
event. He answered all of the questions that were asked him concerning
the affair frankly enough, but Mr. Woodhull thought, once or twice, he
seemed about to speak of some additional circumstance, and then checked
himself.
In the afternoon, however, he seemed like his old self, and after
supper he romped and played with the children until bedtime. He then
got his Bible and other helps, and sat down with the rest of the
family, as he always did, to study the Sunday-school lesson for the
next day. They were busily engaged over the lesson when a wagon drove
hurriedly into the yard, and a moment later a loud knock was heard at
the door.
All noticed that Ray suddenly grew pale and became strangely agitated
as Mr. Woodhull went to the door. Whoever was there, he spoke to Mr.
Woodhull in a low tone, who then went out, closing the door after him.
He was gone a long time, and when he came in he looked exceedingly
grave. Crossing the room to Ray's side, he laid his hand affectionately
upon the boy's head, saying:
"My son, whatever trouble has come to you, remember I do not distrust
you one moment, and all that I can do for you shall be done. I have no
doubt of your innocence; but the officers are here to arrest you for
last night's burglary."
Ray made no answer; but, bowing his head on his hands, burst into tears.
"What is it, husband?" "What is it, George?" the wife and her mother
exclaimed in turn. "Ray arrested for robbery! Shame on those who even
think him guilty of such a thing!" cried Mrs. Woodhull, indignantly.
Mr. Woodhull nodded his head, though too much overcome by his own
feelings to speak; and then he waited for Ray to recover from his
paroxysm of tears. After a while the lad ceased to weep, and, raising
his head, looked up searchingly into Mr. Woodhull's face.
His employer looked lovingly and kindly down into his tear-stained
countenance, and said, gently:
"Before I let the officers in, tell me, my boy, just what you may care
to have me know about it. Again I repeat I believe in your innocency."
"Mr. Woodhull," said Ray, earnestly and calmly now, "I _am_ innocent.
I know no more than you do who broke into that store. Circumstances
are all against me, however, and I do not see that I can establish
my innocence. I have puzzled over it all day, and it looks darker
and darker to me all the time. There is my life before I became a
Christian: that is against me. Then I was at the village last night.
I was there early this morning. I have no one to substantiate my
statement that I was sound asleep in my boat from midnight until
morning, at the very dock where the robbers must have carried off their
goods. It certainly looks as if I must have been allied with them.
More than all this, I lost my coat last night, in a manner strangely
unaccountable to me and to any one else; and do you know"--his voice
lowering almost to a whisper--"while I was in the store this morning,
one of the men found on the edge of the opening in the partition, a
piece of cloth that had evidently been torn from the clothing of one
of the robbers as he crawled through, and it was exactly like the
material of my missing coat. I can't account for it; but I knew it at
once, and all day I have felt sure that I should be arrested for this
crime. I don't care for myself. I am innocent, and my Saviour knows
it, and I am content. But there will be so many who will believe I am
guilty, that I am afraid the cause of Christ will suffer irreparable
harm. But you all believe in me, and there are others who will; and God
can even overrule this for my good and his glory. Tell the officers I
will get ready at once to go with them."
"I tried," said Mr. Woodhull, "to have them leave you here until
Monday, telling them I would be responsible for you, but they refuse
to do so. I will, however, come up early Monday morning and arrange
bail for you, and secure the best counsel I can obtain. Keep up a brave
heart, Ray."
"Yes, sir; I shall cry no more," answered he. And then he went to his
room to prepare for his departure.
Mr. Woodhull now called the officers in until Ray could be ready. They
were as courteous as could be expected in the discharge of their duty,
and though extremely reticent, they finally admitted that Ray's coat
had been found, and with it the implements which had been used to gain
an entrance to the store.
"Is it likely," asked Mr. Woodhull, indignantly, "that that boy, if
guilty, was fool enough to put his coat and tools right where they
would be readily found? Or that he would have stayed there until this
morning as if inviting an arrest? Any one can see the absurdity of
this."
The officer shrugged his shoulders. "We don't pretend to say he was
alone," he answered; "nor do I attempt to account for any freak on
the part of criminals. I have learned that you never can tell what to
expect; perhaps all this was a movement of his to make himself appear
innocent--who knows? They say he is very long-headed, and has for
months made some of the First Church people think he was a saint, when
he was a sinner." And the officer chuckled over his own poor wit.
"You wouldn't speak so of him, if you knew him as we do," broke in Mrs.
Woodhull, warmly.
"I hope you may be right," replied the officer, "but I must do my duty,
nevertheless." His countenance, however, said only too plainly, "I have
worked up this case, and I know that boy is guilty."
Ray now appeared, carefully dressed for his journey. "I presume there
is no objection to my taking this book with me," he said, as he showed
the officer his Bible.
"No," was the curt answer; but the manner of the officer indicated that
his thought was: "You can't pull any wool over my eyes by your pious
tricks."
Bidding each member of the family an affectionate good-bye, and kissing
the sleeping children, Ray followed the officers to their wagon.
"We shall earnestly pray for you, and early Monday you may look for
me," Mr. Woodhull said, as he parted with him at the door.
An hour or two later Ray was locked in a cell at the village station
house, and when the town clock struck twelve, and ushered in the Lord's
Day, he lay on his hard pallet, sleeping as peacefully as in his own
bed. Every anxiety had vanished, every burden had lifted, for he had
committed his way unto the Lord, and the divine voice had answered
back: "Fear not; for I am with thee."
There was peace in his soul--the peace of God "which passeth all
understanding."