PUT TO THE QUESTION
Tobias had more than satisfied his curiosity in coming to town. His
discovery of the gold penknife was the sum of the assistance he could
give Arad Thompson, the bank's president, at this time. His interest in
the burglary, however, continued to be keen; but he went back to the
Twin Rocks Light soon after noon.
He could take little cheer to Heppy. For just how much the depositors
of the bank must suffer because of the loss of the hundred and forty
thousand dollars, Tobias had no idea. Nobody with whom he talked seemed
to know. All were pessimistic.
"Looks like something was the trouble besides just the burglary,"
croaked one bird of ill-omen, perched like a buzzard on the horse rack
before Silas Compton's store. "Else Arad would have sent for some cash
from somewhere and gone on with business, same as usual. This shutting
the bank tight's a drum----"
"They say it's the new bankin' law done it," interposed somebody.
"Dunno. Don't look right. If the bank's rotten we'd ought to have a
chance to get what money we can out of it."
"That's right! 'Fore we lose it all."
"Guess it's all gone by now," groaned another.
"Say!" observed Tobias, after listening to this talk for some time, "I
give it as my opinion Arad Thompson is a purty slick citizen. He was
smart to get that bank examiner here--no two ways about it! Otherwise
there would have been a run on the bank. We'd all have been crazy to
try to get our money."
"Why shouldn't we get it? It's our'n."
"Wal," Tobias said slowly. "I don't s'pose Arad can call all his loans
in on the dot. Nossir! Why should we expect him to pay us just
whenever we want it--all in a lump?"
The lightkeeper could study out the reason for the bank president's
attitude and logically come to the conclusion he did. Arad Thompson
knew Clinkerport folk well. Suspicion would be rife in any case and the
moment announcement was made of the robbery many would rail against his
management of the bank's funds. The president was taking no chances.
Without a penny of cash left in the bank, the depositors would have been
clamoring at the cage windows like wolves had the doors not remained
barred.
There were those people, too, who had "inside information." There are
always these "know-it-alls" in every community.
"No use trying to smooth it over, Tobias," whispered one of these to the
lightkeeper. "There's something fishy about Arad's bank. I ain't got a
cent in it--never would put any in. I always have had my suspicions of
Arad Thompson.
"But Phil Henry is my next-door neighbor, an' Phil Henry is cashier. He
ain't been let into the bank this morning no more than the other
officers. And Phil told me that right lately Arad's been getting his
hands on all the cash he could. Mebbe he did have as much as a hundred
and forty thousand there."
"Wal?" proposed Tobias, unshaken.
"Drat it all, Tobe? Don't you see? Or won't ye? Mebbe there ain't
been no real burglary at all. Looks funny. They say the vault door was
opened on the combination. That 'twasn't busted."
"Huh?"
"Arad just _says_ there was a burglary. S'pose he'd arranged for
somebody to saw them bars on the sly and bust the winder-lock and drug
Bill Purvis's tea? Heh? S'pose Arad robbed the bank hisself?"
"Oh, sugar!" murmured Tobias. "That's what they all say. Why don't you
suggest something new?"
"All right! All right! Don't you believe it, Tobe," said his
acquaintance. "You will remember what I told ye when you don't see hide
nor hair of your money again."
"I don't see it now," confessed Tobias rather ruefully. "But I still
have hopes of Arad's being pretty average honest."
He found Heppy one of the most pessimistic of all those affected by or
interested in the bank burglary. She was actually ill. Whether it was
the excitement or the over-exertion of climbing the lighthouse stairs to
the lamp room, the woman gave every indication of bodily as well as of
mental illness.
She sat in her rocking chair before the kitchen stove, weaving back and
forth, and sobbing. When she raised her head to look at her brother as
he entered, he was actually startled by her appearance.
"Oh, sugar, Heppy! What's the matter o' ye?"
[Illustration: "Oh, sugar, Heppy! What's the matter o' ye?"]
"Did--did you get our money, Tobias?" she gasped.
"No, no! O' course not. Things have got to be straightened out."
"Did you see Arad Thompson?"
"Yes. I talked personally with him, Heppy."
"What did he say?" urged the woman.
"Why, he couldn't say nothin' yet. Not till the bank's books was gone
over. It's bein' done."
"Tobias, that's only an excuse. We'll never see a penny of our money
again!" And his sister broke into passionate sobs.
"Dad fetch it!" ejaculated Tobias, "I give it as my opinion that there
ain't never been such a unanimity of opinion on one subject in this
community since Noah stepped ashore from the ark. You folks have got it
all settled that Arad Thompson is so crooked that he can't lay straight
in bed. Oh, sugar!"
It was a very gloomy afternoon and evening at the Twin Rocks Light. The
men got what little supper there was. Heppy went to bed still weeping
and with a hot brick at her feet.
"An' I give it as my opinion, 'Zekiel," said the lightkeeper to the
younger man, with frank disgust in his tone, "that Heppy can think with
that hot brick just as good as she can with her head. There ain't no
mortal sense in her fussin' and fumin' the way she does."
"But, Tobias! if the money is gone?"
"Oh, sugar!" snorted Tobias. "Mourning over it won't bring our money
back. If we've got to lose it, we've got to--that's all."
"But--eight--thousand--dollars!"
"I know. You say it like 'twas eight hundred thousand. But neither sum
seems to mean so much to me--not re'lly. I sure won't lose no sleep
over it--nor ary meal o' victuals, if I can help it.
"'What can't be cured must be endured,'" repeated this longshore
philosopher. "I never re'lly felt that I had much part nor lot in our
savings. Once I was in New Bedford when some whalers was paid off after
a four-year cruise. A drunken boat steerer stood on the corner of the
street an' fed silver dollars into the mouth of a sewer till the police
stopped him.
"Puttin' money in the bank always seemed to me something like that,
'Zekiel. You see it go in, but where it goes to, an' what happens to
it, is like what the Scriptures says about the ways of the
Almighty--they are 'past finding out.'"
"Huh!" said Zeke. "Looks like we know what's happened to this money.
'Twas stole by somebody."
"Oh, sugar!" murmured Tobias. "Is that any satisfaction?"
Tobias Bassett had refused to admit to Arad Thompson that he had any
suspicion as to the identity of the owner of the gold penknife he had
found under the bank window. Nor did he have such suspicion.
It was merely that the old lightkeeper felt that sometime, somewhere, he
had seen such a toy worn on a watch chain by somebody he knew. Unlike
Lorna Nicholet he did not remember that Ralph Endicott owned such an
ornament.
The young woman rode home from her marketing expedition in a very
anxious condition of mind. One moment she mentally castigated herself
for considering at all the suggestion that the penknife might be Ralph's
property. The next instant the suspicion would attack her from another
angle and his possible connection with the bank burglary would expand
until she was fairly terror-stricken.
If Ralph had been seen in the town the previous evening by other eyes
than those of Conway Degger! If Ralph had seemed to leave Clinkerport
in the afternoon, how explain his later presence there?
If Degger thought he could cast any reflection upon Ralph by reporting
his observation of the latter in town the night of the burglary, of
course he would do so. There was no doubt of that in Lorna's mind. She
had no longer any illusions regarding the character of Degger, no matter
how much she might disapprove of Ralph. Degger was Ralph's enemy, and a
bitter enemy indeed.
Innocent men have fallen under the burden of false accusation, often and
again. Several things seemed to yield circumstantial evidence
connecting the bank robbery with Ralph Endicott, ridiculous as such
evidence must be to the minds of those who really knew him.
If the penknife was his--or like the one he wore! If he really had
returned to Clinkerport secretly last evening! If it was a fact that
Cora Devine was hounding Ralph for money! And if, as Lorna supposed,
the Endicotts were in financial straits and Ralph was without funds!
These suppositions and possibilities wrought upon the young woman's mind
until, when she arrived home, she found it almost impossible to hide
from the family her perturbation. Her father had not yet returned from
Boston. Had he been at home she would have put her fears and suspicions
before him.
For, after all, John Nicholet bred a greater confidence in his
daughter's mind and heart than did the self-repressed Miss Ida. With
the latter Lorna could not bring herself to discuss the mystery of Ralph
Endicott's affairs.
She gave to her aunt the bald statement of the bank's loss, and that was
all. But Lorna felt that she must search and find all she could that
might explain the mystery which, like a haze, surrounded Ralph's absence
from home.
She went to Jerome, the Endicott's doddering old servant whom the
professor's "Cousin Luce," who was supposed to preside over the
household, was forever threatening to pension off.
Miss Ida had scornfully stated that "Lucy Markham ran the Endicott house
by fits and starts--the fits being frequent and the starts but seldom!"
a statement which was scarcely a libel. If Cousin Luce did not feel
like leaving her bed, or had a more than usually interesting novel to
read, she remained unseen by the family, sometimes for a couple of days.
But the family somehow muddled along without her.
Ralph was too old to lose much by the lack of system in the home. And
of course Professor Endicott did not even notice when household matters
went wrong. The children helped each other, and somehow were happy.
As it chanced, Mrs. Markham was not visible when Lorna made her
appearance at the Endicott house. Whether it was a new novel or a
twinge of rheumatism that kept Cousin Luce in her room Lorna did not
inquire. An interview with Professor Endicott, had she wished it, was
quite out of the question, for he was deep in his experiments.
"Jerome," said Lorna to the old servant, "do you know if Ralph lost that
little gold penknife that he wears on the end of his watch chain?"
"No, Miss. I do not know. Was it lately he lost it?"
"That is what I wish to know. _Did_ he lose it?"
"I couldn't say, Miss. He said nothing about losing it to me."
"Then it is pretty sure he did not lose it before he went away
yesterday--if he lost it at all," murmured the young woman thoughtfully.
"You would probably have missed it yourself, Jerome."
"I don't know about that, Miss. I don't have much to do with Master
Ralph's things. No, Miss. Maybe Mrs. Malloy----"
But the housekeeper knew no more than Jerome. Lorna dared go no further
with her inquiries. She feared that she might rouse suspicion in the
minds of the servants.
She heard nothing more about the bank burglary that day, or what was
being done regarding it. She spent a most miserable night. By morning
she could not longer remain idle in the matter. She felt that she must
confer with somebody and she started for the Twin Rocks Light. Lorna
wanted to learn if Tobias Bassett likewise suspected that the gold
penknife he had found belonged to Ralph.
Although the time was mid-forenoon, Tobias was smoking his pipe on the
bench outside the lighthouse door. And he wore one of Miss Heppy's
voluminous kitchen aprons.
"Why, Mr. Bassett! what is the matter?"
"Oh, sugar! That you, Lorny? I've been promoted to be chief
pot-walloper of this here craft. 'Zekiel is aloft, cleaning the lamp."
"But Miss Heppy?"
"She's abed. I cal'late she's down for a spell o' suthin', I dunno what
'tis, and I reckon she don't. But whatever 'tis it's struck in."
"Tobias! She is not really ill!"
"She's sick enough," he rejoined, shaking an anxious head. "Bein' sick
is mostly in your mind, it always did seem to me. If your mind ain't
ready for doctorin' you manage to keep on deck and muddle through
somehow. But once your mind gets sick, you lose all holts. And Heppy's
lost all holts this time, I do allow. She thinks she won't never see
none o' that money we had in the Clinkerport Bank again--never! And
it's just about scuttled the ship for her--yessir!"
"But, Tobias! of course the bank isn't bankrupt. There will be no great
loss for each individual depositor."
"We dunno that. Dunno much of anything about it. I give it as my
opinion that it looks queer. And, as I said afore, Heppy's gin up all
hope."
"Oh, that is too bad!" Lorna said. "I must see her. Is she alone?"
"Ain't no women folks around, if that's what you mean. 'Zekiel and me
air the whole crew and afterguard. The captain's forsook the ship."
Lorna hesitated before going into the lighthouse, staring down at the
rather despondent looking Tobias. She spurred her courage to ask:
"I am told that you found a penknife under the bank window that may have
been dropped by one of the burglars."
"So I did," replied Tobias placidly.
"Do you really think it was lost by one of the robbers?"
"Likely. Don't see how else it would have got there."
"Have you no idea who the owner is?"
The lightkeeper wrinkled up his eyes shrewdly and stared at her. He
removed the pipe from his mouth.
"I don't count a wide acquaintance among burglars and such, Miss Lorny."
"But--but it might not belong to a burglar!"
"Sure enough. Who do you cal'late it might belong to?"
"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I--I--why do you ask that?" Then, her eyes
searching the highway in the direction of Clinkerport, she cried: "Who
is this coming, Tobias?"
He turned from her to stare at the blue motor car approaching. He still
held his pipe at a reflective poise, for Lorna's evident disturbance of
mind had impressed him.
"Oh, sugar!" he murmured. "This here is Arad Thompson's car. You don't
s'pose he's come to bring me and Heppy our money, do you? It 'ud please
Heppy purt' nigh to death."