CHAPTER V IN WHICH DAVID HARKINS BECOMES THE VICTIM OF PECULIAR

CIRCUMSTANCES

David Harkins left his home that morning, walking rapidly and gaily

humming a tune to himself. He felt better and happier than he had

for many weeks before. The thought of canceling the note and freeing

himself from the obligation which he was under to John Black lifted an

immense weight from his mind and enabled him to take a cheerful view

of life. As he walked along he mentally matured plans for increasing

his income during the year to come and placing his family in a position

where they would not be compelled to feel concerned regarding the

future.

In a few minutes he reached the office of Horace Coke, the lawyer, who

was installed in a little second story room of a modest house on the

main street. The apartment was very much like the lawyer--simple and

old-fashioned, but entirely adequate for the needs of the law. There

was a plain, flat-top desk, littered with legal papers. An office boy

who hoped eventually to become a member of the bar, sat copying a

deed; and the silence in the room was broken by the steady scratching

of his pen. The shelves about the room were filled with law books

covered with calfskin and bearing their titles in little gold letters

on a slip of black over what might be called their backbones. Mr. Coke

himself was puffing away at a big black cigar--which, by the way,

was his only dissipation. He was looking over some papers when David

Harkins entered the room, but jumped from his chair immediately and

greeted the newcomer with a hearty:

“Hello there, Dave! What’s bringing you out so early in the morning?”

“Some legal business, Horace,” replied the other laughingly.

“I am sorry to hear that,” said the venerable attorney, shaking his

head in a doubtful manner. “I always advise my friends to keep out of

the law. It’s a bad business. It takes up all your money, and rarely

gives you any good results.”

“That sounds like queer talk for a man who depends on the law for his

livelihood.”

Horace Coke laughed heartily at this retort, and said:

“It does sound queer, doesn’t it? But I don’t talk that way to

everybody. Of course, if people will get into trouble and will invoke

the law, I might as well take their money and attend to their business

as the next one; but I satisfy my conscience by advising all of my

friends to keep out of the law, because as I said before, it’s a mighty

bad business.”

Then the good-natured counsellor dropped into his chair and indulged in

another hearty laugh. It was one of the oddities of his nature that he

should be continually berating the profession of which he was such an

ornament and for which he really had a deep reverence.

“But not to get off the subject,” added Mr. Harkins, “I would like to

inform you that I have come here to pay off that note to John Black.

Under ordinary circumstances I would go to the bank to transact this

business; but as long as Mr. Black has found it necessary to employ a

lawyer to secure his money, I felt that it was proper to come here and

pay you.”

The lawyer looked at David Harkins searchingly through his eye-glasses.

He was silent for a moment, and then said in a low voice, in marked

contrast with his jolly manner of a few minutes before:

“See here, Dave, can you spare this money? I don’t believe you can, and

I hate to see a man pressed. If you say the word, I’ll go over to old

Black and try to get an extension on the note.”

“Not at all,” was the cheerful rejoinder. “I do not desire an

extension; I want to pay it and get it off my mind forever.”

Mr. Coke walked over to Harkins and taking him by the hand, exclaimed

in his cheery voice:

“Congratulations, old man! I am glad to hear you talk in that way, and

I am mighty glad to know that you were able to raise the money in such

a short time. It will not only be a good thing to pay off the note, but

it will be the means of establishing your credit in Cleverly. There’s

nothing like a reputation for a man, and if you can get a good one it

is liable to stick to you just as well as a bad one.”

The two men sat down at the desk together, and after the necessary

papers had been prepared and signed, Mr. Harkins handed over one

thousand dollars in fresh banknotes.

Half an hour later the lawyer put his hat and coat on and started

towards the bank where he had an appointment with John Black. The door

was closed when he arrived; but following his usual custom he entered

without knocking. The banker’s back was turned to him at the time, and

when he heard the door open and close, Mr. Black cried out in a harsh

voice:

“Who’s that? What are you doing there?”

“It is only I, John,” said the lawyer. “I came here to attend to a

little matter of business.”

“Oh!” exclaimed the banker, changing his tone slightly at the sight of

the lawyer. “I thought it was one of those impudent clerks coming in

here without being civil enough to knock at the door.”

After this he started to walk up and down the office, stamping his feet

and frowning in a very ugly manner. His expression was forbidding, and

Mr. Coke looked at him in astonishment.

“What’s the matter, Black?” asked the lawyer. “You don’t seem to be in

a very good humor this morning.”

“Good humor? I should say not. I’ve got a good notion to leave this

town. A man’s property isn’t safe over night. You get no protection.

You pay big taxes and put up with all sorts of inconveniences, and what

do you get in return? That’s what I would like to know; what do you get

in return?”

“Why what in the world are you driving at?” asked the lawyer; “what has

happened?”

“Happened? Why everything’s happened. Some thief entered my house last

night, got into the library, broke open my desk and stole a package of

money that I had put there for safe keeping over night. What do you

think of that? Wouldn’t you say that something had happened if your

house had been broken into and your desk had been rifled? Wouldn’t you,

I say? Wouldn’t you?”

“Why, yes,” said the lawyer, staring at his client. “I suppose I should

say that something had happened under those circumstances. But have

you any clue to the robbery?”

“Clue! Clue!” retorted the banker, with his habit of repeating words.

“Certainly not. How could you expect me to have a clue in a town like

this? The police officials are no good, never were any good, and never

will be any good.”

“But have you any hope of recovering your money?”

“Hope? Certainly I have hope. I am going to recover that money if it

costs every other cent that I have in the world. I don’t propose to sit

down like a lamb and be fleeced. Do you think that I am that kind of a

man? Do you?”

“No,” said the lawyer, “I do not. I am very sorry to hear about your

loss; but I don’t suppose there is any use crying over spilt milk.”

“Spilt milk! What do you mean by that? How can you talk about a large

amount of money as if it were spilt milk? What do you mean anyhow?”

“Oh,” said the lawyer, “that was simply a little illustration of mine.

You see the moral is a good one.”

“Hump! I don’t think it’s good at all, and I don’t like to hear you

talk in that way.” Then after a momentary pause, “But what is it you

want? Why did you come here?”

“I came with some good news,” said the lawyer. “David Harkins called

on me this morning and paid off that note of a thousand dollars, and I

have brought the money to you.”

The crafty face of the banker lighted up with surprise at this

announcement. It was so unexpected that he hardly knew what to say in

reply. Finally he managed to remark:

“Paid you? Paid you this morning, did he? I wonder where he got the

money.”

“I am sure I do not know,” said the lawyer, “and really I don’t think

it makes much difference as long as you get the amount of your note.”

The two men sat down at the desk together, and the lawyer, after some

preliminary remarks, handed over the money to the banker. The minute it

was laid before him he jumped with a start.

“Why, this is all new money,” he exclaimed. “That’s just the kind of

money that was taken from me last night. I don’t believe Dave Harkins

came by that money honestly. It makes him look like a thief. It was

probably done by that smart boy of his.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” cried the lawyer, trying to pacify the banker.

“But I will say it. Both father and son have a grudge against me, and I

don’t believe they would hesitate at anything to get even.”

“But my dear sir,” remarked the lawyer in a soothing tone, “you have

made a very rash assertion, and you have absolutely nothing to base it

upon.”

John Black was silent for a moment, and then suddenly turning around,

he said in a harsh tone:

“Did you get that money direct from David Harkins?”

“I did,” was the response.

“Then,” exclaimed the banker in a tone of triumph, “that proves my

suspicion. The money that was taken out of my desk consisted of ten

$100 bills, and the money you have just given me is made up exactly of

ten $100 bills. That satisfies me.”

“It is a coincidence,” admitted the lawyer.

“Coincidence,” snorted the banker, “it’s sufficient to convict the man.

It satisfies me, and it ought to be enough to satisfy any other man

with brains.”

“I wouldn’t be too hasty,” suggested the lawyer. “There is nothing to

be gained by acting in that manner.”

“Hasty? Don’t talk about being hasty. I am going to have justice no

matter who is injured; and I don’t want to be soft-soaped out of doing

the right thing. I am going to act, and I am going to act quickly.”

“But, my dear sir,” said the lawyer, persisting in his objections,

“you must have proof; don’t you understand that? You must have proof

before you can accuse a man.”

John Black was in a terrible rage by this time. He paced up and down

the office rapidly, and then standing in front of the lawyer and

raising his finger in a threatening way, exclaimed:

“I’ll have proof all right. The proof will be a warrant for the arrest

of David Harkins on the charge of stealing my money.”

“I am sorry to hear you talk that way,” said the lawyer, “I think you

are making a mistake. But, however, you are master of your own actions.

When do you propose to do this?”

“Within twenty-four hours,” replied the other solemnly. “If you want

to, you can serve a warning on Dave Harkins, and if he will restore my

money at once I may be merciful to him; but if not, he must take the

consequences. In any event he will have to make up his mind within the

next twenty-four hours.”

The Mystery of Cleverly: A Story for Boys · 第 5 / 25 章