A THRILLING ADVENTURE.
“Humph! So the little minx has her check-book!” mused John Hubbard,
as he bent his steps toward the bank after Allison’s departure, an
ugly gleam in his cold blue eyes. “That old dotard, her father,
must have had considerable confidence in her financial ability to
trust her to that extent! However, the game is pretty well in my
hands, and I haven’t much anxiety about the result. I’ll win her if
I can; I’ll drive her if need be--but I’ll crush her if she defies
me!”
Musing thus, the wily schemer proceeded on his way; but, always
intolerant of opposition, he was in no amiable frame of mind when
he finally reached his office, and settled down to a pile of
accumulated work that had been neglected for the outside demands
upon his time during the week just passed.
As he sat down to his desk he opened one of the books which he had
produced in court to show that Gerald had been guilty of falsifying
his accounts, and began to study it intently.
“Humph!” he ejaculated. “I could have sworn that there is not a
man living who could detect any change in those figures! That glass
must have been wonderfully powerful, and that expert a keen hand at
his business. He has made a study of chirography to some purpose! I
wonder where they found him? I never heard of him before, although
Judge Haight seemed to recognize him. A man needs to have his wits
about him nowadays, if he intends to do crooked work.” With which
sage reflection Mr. Hubbard closed the book with an impatient bang,
and, turning to his papers, was soon absorbed in his work.
An hour later Gerald walked into the bank, when he was most
cordially greeted and congratulated by his fellow clerks, with whom
he had worked so long. He then went directly to Mr. Brewster’s
private office, where he found John Hubbard occupying the late
banker’s chair and desk.
The man looked up with a scowl as he entered.
“Well,” he remarked frigidly, “did you think you could come back to
your old place?”
“Certainly not, Mr. Hubbard. There is no Mr. Brewster to require a
confidential clerk,” Gerald gravely returned. “I have simply come
to take away what few things belong to me.”
“Very well; be as expeditious as possible about it,” was the
caustic rejoinder, as the man turned his back upon him.
Gerald quietly gathered up his personal belongings and made them
into a neat package, put the desk where he had labored so long in
perfect order, then left the room and the bank, nodding a friendly
adieu to the other clerks as he went, but with a very heavy heart,
for without a position and with no influential friends to back him,
the outlook was very dark for him.
That evening he called upon Professor Emerson, with whom he had a
long talk relative to his prospects.
“There is nothing like a good education to begin life with,” he
said. “You are still young, and two years at Harvard are just what
you need. Have you anything ahead, Gerald?”
“Yes, sir; I have managed to save five or six hundred dollars since
I have been with Mr. Brewster.”
“Have you? Well, that is pretty well for a young man in your
position,” said his friend, in a gratified tone; “and now I’m sure
I do not see what is to hinder you from going to Harvard.”
“Why to Harvard? Why not to Yale?” questioned Gerald, who would
have preferred the latter college, because he would be nearer to
New York and Allison.
“Well, Yale is all right; but I have a friend who has a Harvard
scholarship to give away, and I am very sure I could get it for
you.”
“You are very kind, sir,” the young man replied, flushing with
emotion, “and I want a thorough education more than I can tell you;
but, really, I do not feel as if I could spare the time to spend
two years in college, and then study for a profession afterward. I
would like to be working myself up in some business, and keep on
with you as I have been doing.”
“I take it that you are ambitious to get rich, my young friend,”
said Professor Emerson, with a smile.
“Yes, sir, I am,” Gerald frankly admitted, flushing consciously as
he realized why he was so eager to acquire a competence.
“Well, of course, you must judge for yourself; but I should be
sorry to have you let so fine an opportunity slip away from you. I
advise you to take a little time to think it over before deciding
definitely,” said his friend earnestly.
“I will--thank you,” Gerald responded; adding heartily: “But I
trust, whether I accept your offer or not, you will feel that I am
truly grateful for all your kindness and interest--both past and
present.”
It was after ten o’clock when he left the house, and there were
indications of a storm. Gerald buttoned his coat close up to his
chin, and started briskly on his way.
After passing three or four blocks he turned into a small park, and
observed, as he did so, a gentleman some distance in advance of
him. He paid no especial attention to the individual until he was
on the point of passing out at the opposite gate, when he caught
sight of another figure shadowing the first by skulking behind the
trunks of trees to keep out of sight.
Gerald felt sure that this latter person had some malicious design
against the other, and he quickened his own steps that he might be
on hand if assistance was needed; but both had passed out of the
gate before he had half-crossed the park.
As he drew near the exit he heard voices in angry conversation,
and, peering around a post, he saw the two in conversation, and,
peering around a post, he saw the two men standing not a dozen
paces away. One was a tall, fine-looking man, handsomely clad. The
other was a disreputable-appearing fellow, wearing a rough ulster
and a slouch-hat, and Gerald also observed that there was not
another person in sight.
“I have told you never to appeal to me again,” Gerald heard the
gentleman remark, in sternly resolute tones, “and I shall give you
no more money to spend upon drink and gambling.”
“Oh, come, now don’t be hard on a fellow,” pleaded his companion,
as he moved a step or two nearer, while Gerald saw him slip his
right hand into the pocket of his ulster. “You’re just rolling in
wealth, and I am starving. Give me a ‘V.’”
“Not a dime, you rascal! You have played no end of tricks upon me,
and I am done with you forever,” was the reply.
“But I’m hungry, I tell you. I haven’t had a decent meal for a
week,” persisted the beggar; and now Gerald saw him cautiously
withdraw his hand from his pocket with an object in it that made
his heart leap into his throat.
“Heavens! It is a sand-bag!” he breathed.
“Well, if you are hungry, go to the nearest station-house, where
you will get a night’s lodging, with a supper and breakfast, and
to-morrow morning you can work to pay for it,” said the gentleman.
“Work!” snarled the tramp. “Do you think I am going to dig ice from
the gutters? Not if I know myself!”
“Very well, then, you may go hungry,” replied his companion, as he
turned to proceed on his way.
With an angry oath the tramp raised his arm aloft, and, in a moment
more, would have accomplished his deadly work had not Gerald, quick
as a flash, sprung from his place of concealment, dashed upon the
would-be murderer, and, wrenched the weapon from his grasp.
The wretch was so taken aback that he was utterly unable to
defend himself from this rear attack, and an instant later he lay
sprawling and stunned upon the pavement, Gerald having dexterously
tripped him.
“Now, sir, lend a hand, if you please,” he said, glancing over his
shoulder at the astonished man whom he had probably saved from a
violent death.
“Certainly, certainly,” he replied, quickly recovering himself,
and, darting forward, he planted a powerful knee upon the breast
of his fallen assailant. “I am sure I had not a suspicion that
he would dare do me any violence,” he added. “What was he up to,
anyway?”
For answer Gerald held the sand-bag up before him.
“Good heavens! what a wretch!” said the gentleman, in a startled
tone. “He is a distant relative--a worthless fellow--and has been
a leech upon me for years. But I reckon this business will settle
his fate for a while. Now, if you will go to the corner and call a
policeman I will manage him while you are gone. Take care, there!”
he added sternly, as the prostrate villain began to squirm and
struggle, and he enforced his command by a powerful grip upon his
throat.
Gerald darted away, and five minutes later came hurrying back with
a guardian of the peace, who immediately took the highwayman into
custody.
Then he learned that the name of the man whose life he had
doubtless saved was Richard Morgan Lyttleton, a noted lawyer, of
New York.
The officer demanded his name and address also, telling him that
his presence would be required in court on the morrow to testify
against the culprit.
Gerald smiled to himself as he thought of appearing so soon again
in a criminal-court, and he observed, when he gave his name, that
Mr. Lyttleton started slightly, and glanced keenly at him.
Then the policeman marched his prisoner off, when Mr. Lyttleton
turned to our hero and cordially extended his hand.
“My young friend, you have rendered me an inestimable service
to-night, and I am deeply grateful to you,” he said earnestly;
then added: “But, more of this when I see you again, as we shall
doubtless meet to-morrow. As it is late and cold, I will not keep
you longer. Good night.”
Gerald responded to his adieu, and they separated, each going his
own way.
Early the next morning Gerald received a summons to appear at the
court-house at eleven o’clock, and, upon arriving at the place, he
found his acquaintance of the previous night awaiting him, and who
regarded him with curious intentness as he greeted him.
“Can it be possible that you are the Gerald Winchester whose case
was before the court yesterday?” he asked.
“Yes, I am sorry to be obliged to confess that I am,” he replied
flushing, and a look of pain clouding his fine eyes.
“It was rather a peculiar affair--I was quite interested in it,”
said the lawyer.
“Indeed!” Gerald briefly observed.
“Yes, it was really romantic, and you came off with flying colors,”
said his companion, smiling. “As I told you last night, I am a
lawyer myself, and I confess, up to the moment of the appearance
of that young lady upon the scene, I did not see a vestige of hope
for you. Young man, you are to be congratulated upon having had so
stanch a friend in the charming Miss Brewster. If I am not greatly
mistaken, that John Hubbard is a scamp.”
Gerald lifted a glance of surprise to the gentleman’s face.
“What makes you think that?” he questioned.
“Well, I am something of a physiognomist, and, to me, he shows
treachery in every glance of his shifty eyes.” Mr. Lyttleton’s
expression plainly indicated a decided repugnance to the man under
discussion.
“Lyttleton versus Ruggles,” was here shouted by the court-crier,
and the conversation of the two gentlemen was interrupted. It did
not take very long to settle the case, however, for, in the light
of the indisputable evidence brought to bear upon it, the prisoner
was found guilty of assault with intent to kill, and sentenced
to seven years at Sing Sing. As soon as they were released, Mr.
Lyttleton turned to Gerald.
“Come,” he said; “you must come and have lunch with me; I want to
talk more with you.”
In a neighboring restaurant they took a secluded table, and over
the coffee Mr. Lyttleton astonished Gerald by remarking:
“Mr. Winchester, I happen, just at this time, to be very much in
need of a private-secretary. The poor fellow who has served me for
five years died last week, and I have, as yet, found no one to fill
his place. How would you like the position?”
Gerald lifted a look of bland surprise at the speaker.
“You think I am rather premature in making such a proposal to you
upon so short an acquaintance,” Mr. Lyttleton observed, smiling;
“but I have told you that I am pretty well versed in character
reading, and so, if you are willing to take the place on trial, I
am ready to give it to you. I like your looks--your manner; while
that girl’s testimony yesterday proved that Adam Brewster had the
most implicit confidence in you. That, of itself, is recommendation
enough for me. A week from to-morrow, I sail for Europe, to
investigate a complicated case which involves a large estate,
and which I hope to bring to trial within a couple of months. My
partner will manage the business here during my absence, which will
probably be six months or more, as I intend to combine pleasure
with duty, and see something of the old world before my return.
Your salary will be eight hundred and all expenses, for the first
year; more after that if we find ourselves mutually congenial.
There, you have my proposition--what do you say to it?” the lawyer
concluded, as he sat back in his chair and watched the expressive
face opposite him.