HAL IN A FEARFUL SITUATION.
Every one in the room was surprised at Hal Carson's unexpected
statement.
"Let me see the paper!" cried Saunders.
Hal handed it over, and the dry-goods clerk scanned it eagerly.
"You are right," he muttered, and shook his head.
"That can't be the same paper that was around the box," put in Dick
Ferris, very red in the face.
"It certainly is," replied Hal.
"Yes, I saw Carson pick it up from the spot where I threw it," returned
Saunders. "This puts a new face on the matter," he added, with a sharp
look at Ferris.
Mrs. Ricket also looked at her nephew.
"Dick, come here," she commanded.
"What do you want?" he demanded, doggedly.
"I want you to return Mr. Saunders' fourteen dollars."
"I haven't got it."
"I know better."
"What, Aunt Amanda, are you going back on me, too?" cried Ferris, in a
pretended reproachful tone.
"I tried to believe all along against my better judgment that you were
innocent," said the landlady. "But I can't believe it any longer, and
when you try to throw the blame on somebody who is innocent, I've got to
speak my mind." Mrs. Ricket's voice began to grow stern. "Give up the
money, and ask Mr. Saunders to forgive you before he sends for a
policeman and has you arrested."
This was a long speech for Mrs. Ricket, and she almost gasped for breath
after she had finished.
Dick Ferris' face grew black as he listened to the words.
"You're a nice aunt to me!" he stormed. "Just wait till I tell dad about
it when he comes home next time."
But now Saunders had the fellow by the collar.
"Which is it, the money or the station-house?" he asked, shortly.
Dick Ferris looked into the determined black eyes, and then his courage
oozed away.
"Will you promise not to do anything, if I give you fourteen dollars?"
he asked.
"Yes."
"Then here you are." He brought forth his pocket-book, and took out a
roll of bills. "I didn't take your money, but it's no fun to be hauled
up."
"Why, Dick, where did you get so much money?" cried Mrs. Ricket, in
amazement.
"I earned it," replied the fellow, coolly. "Here you are, Saunders. Now,
unlock the door and let me out."
Saunders took the fourteen dollars, counted them over, and then did as
requested. Without another word Ferris hurried out and down the stairs.
"I hope you are satisfied," said Hal, to the dry-goods clerk.
"I am sorry I suspected you," returned Saunders. "What a mean dog Ferris
is."
"He is down on me because I am filling the position he was discharged
from," explained Hal.
"Unless he takes a turn for the better I shall tell him to leave the
house," cried Mrs. Ricket, trying to dry away her tears. "Ever since he
came, two years ago, he has been a torment to me. I only keep him for my
poor dead sister's sake."
"How about this stuff?" questioned Saunders, pointing to the inkstands
and the boxes of pens.
"I shall return them to Sumner, Allen & Co."
"Queer how that boy got hold of those things," said Mrs. Ricket.
Hal pretended not to hear the remark, and a moment later Saunders and
the landlady left the room.
"So that was the plot against me," muttered Hal, as he fixed up to go to
supper. "I wonder what Hardwick will say when he hears how it turned
out?"
The youth was compelled to smile to himself. The book-keeper would, no
doubt, be very angry.
"It was lucky I looked at the newspaper," Hal went on. "It was that
saved me, and nothing else. Ferris overreached himself. I wish I could
gain such an important point in that bond matter. It would be a great
feather in my cap to recover the tin box and its contents."
A little later Hal went down to supper. Ferris did not appear, and
nothing was said about the recent happening upstairs.
"Please keep it quiet," whispered Mrs. Ricket to him, as he was about to
leave the room. "It will only hurt my reputation to say anything."
The next morning, when Hal arrived at the office, he found Mr. Sumner
already there. This was most unusual, and the youth could not help but
show his surprise.
The elderly broker was pouring over the books, but as soon as Hal
appeared he put them away.
Hal had the inkstands and the pens in his overcoat pocket, and he at
once handed them over, much to Mr. Sumner's astonishment.
"Where did they come from?" he asked.
"I will explain later," replied Hal. "Please put them out of sight now,
for Mr. Hardwick is coming, and I wish he wouldn't see them."
Mr. Sumner promptly swept the things into his desk, and began to write a
letter.
When the book-keeper entered he was astonished to see Hal at work
cleaning up. He had fully expected that the youth would be arrested for
the robbery at Mrs. Ricket's, and that Hal was now in jail.
Then he looked back and saw Mr. Sumner at his desk, and his astonishment
increased.
"Why, really, Mr. Sumner----" he began.
"I'm early this morning, eh?" returned the broker. "Well, I wanted to
get this correspondence off my hands, and I seem to be able to do better
work early in the morning."
"You are a hard worker," commented Hardwick, and that was all he said.
When Hal was dusting near the rear Mr. Sumner looked up to see that the
book-keeper was not noticing, and then motioned to the youth.
"Don't say anything about my being at the books," whispered the broker,
in a low tone.
Hal nodded; and then he went on as if nothing had been said. But the
words set him to thinking deeply.
At the end of an hour Mr. Sumner arose.
"I am going out for a couple of hours," he said. "If Mr. Allen comes in
tell him to let that Wabash matter rest until to-morrow."
"I will," replied Hardwick.
"You may continue on that copying, Carson," went on the broker. "Mr.
Hardwick will direct you."
"Yes, sir," replied the youth.
Mr. Sumner quitted the place, and hurried up the street.
Dick Ferris stood on the opposite side near the corner. He then waved
his hand to Hardwick.
The book-keeper at once put on his hat and coat, and went out. Hal did
not see the man join Ferris.
Hal did his best to concentrate his thoughts upon his work, but found it
almost impossible to do so.
A half-hour dragged by slowly.
Then the door burst open, and Hardwick rushed in. He was pale and
terribly excited. Rushing up to Hal he caught the youth roughly by the
arm.
"See here, I want to have a talk with you!" he cried.
"What about?" asked Hal, as coolly as he could.
"You know well enough, you miserable sneak!" hissed Hardwick. "Tell me
at once all you know."
"Know about what?" asked Hal, trying to stand his ground.
Hardwick glared at him for an instant. He seemed to be in a fearful
rage. Suddenly he caught Hal by the throat with one hand, and picked up
a heavy brass-bound ruler with the other.
"Now, Carson, are you going to speak up or not?" he demanded.