“Colonel Ross, your suspicions are very insulting and entirely
unwarranted,” said the Widow Gilbert, with a flush on her usually pale
cheek.
“Of course I knew you would not believe anything against your son, whom
you believe to be a model,” said Colonel Ross, with a sneer.
“So he is—a model!” said the widow, warmly.
“Then all I can say is that there is a strong reason to suspect that
this model son of yours is a thief.”
“I deny it.”
“I notice, however, that you are afraid to have the house searched.”
“I have never expressed any unwillingness.”
“Then I understand that you give your consent.”
“I do.”
“Very well. Then allow me to call in a party not interested, who will
attend to that duty.”
Colonel Ross went to the outer door, and, opening it, called:
“Constable, you are wanted!”
At this summons a tall, stout man—Mr. Rogers, the village
constable—came forward, as it seemed, rather reluctantly.
“Constable,” said Colonel Ross, “Mrs. Gilbert has given her consent to
have the house searched for the bonds which were abstracted from my
trunk last evening.”
“Mr. Rogers,” said Mrs. Gilbert, who knew the constable well, “Colonel
Ross has made a cruel and unwarranted charge against Harry. I hope you
don’t believe he is a thief.”
“I don’t,” said the constable, bluntly. “I’ve known your boy ever since
he was a baby, and I never knew him to do a mean thing.”
“Constable,” said Colonel Ross, angrily, “it does not become you to
screen the guilty or make excuses for him.”
“It strikes me you’re rather too fast, Colonel Ross, in making him out
guilty. What proof have you of it?”
“My son’s word.”
“Oh!” said the constable, expressively.
“You have only to do your duty and search the house, and I venture to
predict that the evidence will be forthcoming that will convince even
you.”
“Mrs. Gilbert,” said the constable, “I hope you’ll excuse me for
obeying the Colonel. I have to do it, you know.”
“Do your duty, Mr. Rogers. We are not afraid to have the house searched
from top to bottom.”
“I don’t want to disturb your things, Mrs. Gilbert. Suppose you go
round and open everything to us.”
“If that will be satisfactory to Colonel Ross. I want him satisfied.”
“As long as I am present, with a right to examine, I shall not object.”
“It seems to me, Colonel Ross,” remarked Uncle Obed, “you are not
treating the boy right.”
“It is immaterial to me what you think, Mr. Wilkins,” replied the
Colonel, with asperity.
“Mebbe so,” said the old man. “I calculate it won’t always be so. The
time may come when you will care more for my opinion.”
“You flatter yourself unduly, Mr. Wilkins, I assure you.”
“Mebbe so,” answered the old man, not appearing at all discomposed by
the rude tone of his niece’s husband.
“We will begin here, gentlemen,” said Mrs. Gilbert.
So saying, she went about from place to place down below, opening
whatever drawers there were, even in the pantry, and revealing nothing
that looked like the bonds.
“I didn’t expect they were downstairs,” said the Colonel.
“Then we will go upstairs. You shall not say that we have concealed
anything or shrunk from any investigation.”
“Very well.”
Mrs. Gilbert thereupon led the way upstairs, and the search began.
Finally, they came to her own bureau. The upper drawer was opened, and
the sharp eyes of the Colonel detected a large envelope. It was the one
that contained the bonds which had been presented to Harry for his
service in ferreting out the burglars in the wood.
Singular as it may seem, neither Harry nor his mother had thought of
them, and the false inference that might be drawn from their discovery.
It was natural, therefore, that each should look startled and
discomposed.
“Ha! what have we here?” demanded Colonel Ross, clutching the envelope.
“Those are my property,” said Harry, who was the first to recover his
self-possession.
“I will take the liberty to examine. Ha! government bonds, as I live.
Constable, what do you say now?” demanded the Colonel, triumphantly.
The constable, who knew nothing of Harry’s gift, looked very
uncomfortable indeed. Despite his belief in Harry’s honesty, he was
staggered by this apparent evidence to the contrary.
“What is this, Mrs. Gilbert?” he asked.
“They are bonds belonging to Harry. He speaks the truth.”
“A likely story,” exclaimed Colonel Ross. “Really, Mrs. Gilbert, your
conduct is most extraordinary. I begin to think you had some knowledge
of your son’s act.”
“Colonel Ross, don’t you dare to insult my mother,” said Harry, so
fiercely that the Colonel retreated a little, under the impression that
our hero intended to make an insult upon him.
“Be careful, boy,” he warned. “I’ve caught you red-handed in the
commission of a crime that may send you to State’s prison. You’d better
take heed what you say!”
“Mr. Rogers,” said Mrs. Gilbert, “that envelope contains government
bonds that belong to my son. Ask Colonel Ross how many he lost.”
“Two bonds of a hundred dollars each,” answered the Colonel. “And here
they are,” he continued, producing two bonds of that denomination from
the envelope.
“Look again. See if there are no more,” said Harry.
The Colonel, evidently surprised, produced a fifty.
“Do you mean to say that you lost that, also?” inquired Harry.
“No,” replied the Colonel, evidently puzzled; “you must have got that
from somewhere else.”
“I got the whole somewhere else,” said Harry.
“It is entirely useless, Harry Gilbert, to attempt to impose upon me by
any such ridiculous story. As to the extra bond, I don’t know where it
came from. Perhaps your mother had it before. It doesn’t alter the fact
that I have found my stolen bonds in your possession.”
“When did you lose your bonds?” asked Uncle Obed, who thought it time
to “put in his oar,” as he afterward expressed it.
“Last evening.”
“You’re sure you had ’em up to that time, are you?”
“Yes; I looked them over, and counted them early in the evening.”
“Then, all I can say is that the bonds you’ve got in your hands have
been in the house several days. Harry showed them to me when he first
got ’em.”
“Really, Mr. Wilkins, I don’t like to doubt the word of an old man like
you; but, sir, your statement is absolutely incredible.”
“It is true,” said Mrs. Gilbert. “I, too, assert the same thing.”
“Then you are all in a conspiracy,” said Colonel Ross, in a passion.
“And you have evidently plotted the ruin of an innocent boy,” said Mrs.
Gilbert, with spirit.
“You have always pretended to be poor,” continued Colonel Ross, “and
now you expect me to believe that your son owns nearly three hundred
dollars’ worth of bonds!”
“I do, for it is true.”
“Where did he get them?”
“They were given him.”
“Utterly absurd! People don’t often give boys such presents as that.
Constable, I call on you to arrest that boy.”
“Where is your warrant, Colonel?”
“Arrest him on suspicion.”
“I could not do it.”
“Then you mean to connive at his escape?”
“No; I’ll stay here to-night, if you insist upon it.”
“Do so, and I will take the bonds.”
“Lay them down, Colonel Ross; they are my property!” said Harry,
sternly.
“You can’t be allowed to take ’em, Colonel, till you prove that they
are yours. One you admit is not,” said the constable.
“It doesn’t matter much,” replied the Colonel, discomfited. “They will
find their way back to me soon. This boy won’t take on so high a tone
tomorrow.”