IN WHICH PHIL IS BEWILDERED, AND THE MARIAN SAILS FOR CHICAGO.
"What next, Philip?" asked Marian, when I had seated myself in the
standing-room.
"That boat will return next with Mr. Whippleton," I replied, picking up
the rifle which I had left upon the cushion.
"I hope there will be no violence," she added, anxiously.
"I hope not; but what shall I do? Shall I let him rob your father of
half the capital of the firm? Shall I let him rob his mother of nearly
all she has in the world? If I don't strike when I have an opportunity,
everything will be lost."
"What do you mean by his mother?"
"The package which Mr. Whippleton took from the safe was placed in my
charge by his mother, to keep it from falling into his hands. She was
very sick, and may not live many days. Your father had no idea what a
villain his partner was."
"I am sure he had not; but can't you manage it without any violence?"
"If I can, I will. I have no taste for a fight; but I have still less
for letting Mr. Whippleton run away with his ill-gotten gains. I should
be ashamed of myself if I did. Besides, your father accuses me of
concealing the villany of his partner, and even of being a participator
in it. He would have good reason to think so if I let him slip through
my fingers now. No, I will not do it. I will follow him to the end of
the earth, and if he don't give up his plunder there will be a fight,
though I may get my own head smashed in the scrape."
Marian said no more about peace on such terms, and I watched the boat
with interest, as it came up under the counter of the Florina. I did
not see Mr. Whippleton read the letter I had written; but I have no
doubt that he did read it, for in a few moments more he embarked in the
tender with Peter.
"There they come, just as you said!" exclaimed Marian, apparently in
despair.
"I knew that letter would bring him, for I informed him that the
officers of justice were on his track. I have no doubt that the police
have telegraphed to all the cities within a thousand miles of Chicago
by this time. If anything would wake up the rascal, the news I sent him
would have that effect. Besides, I invited him to take passage in the
Marian."
"You did!"
"Yes, for I want him where I can put my hand upon him."
"But he can put his hand upon you, and then I shall be alone. What will
become of me?"
"You need not be at all alarmed. He will not injure or insult you."
"What do you mean to do, Philip? Can't I help you?"
"I intend to make a prisoner of him, if possible. I don't think you can
help me do such a job. I am going into the cabin now, for I don't wish
him to see me until he is fairly on board."
"What shall I do?"
"Stay here, if you please. He will go below immediately."
The tender was rapidly approaching the yacht, and I went into the
cabin, where I had another attack of coughing as soon as I heard Mr.
Whippleton step upon the deck.
"Good evening, Miss Collingsby," said he, as he saw our fair passenger.
"I hope you are very well. Where is your friend?"
"What friend?" she asked, in such a tone that I was afraid she would
excite his suspicions before he came into the cabin.
"Why, Mr. Waterford, of course. Since you are to become his wife
to-morrow morning, he ought to be the dearest friend on earth to you.
But as he is not on deck, he must be in the cabin."
I heard his step on the ladder, and I confess that I felt no little
anxiety for the issue. I sat upon one of the lockers, still wearing the
skipper's coat and hat. It was rather dark in the cabin, and I was not
surprised that he did not recognize me at first.
"What's all this, Ben?" said he, in hurried speech. "Every dollar
counts now, and I can't afford to lose a thousand by leaving my boat
here. I was to deliver her to the purchaser to-morrow at St. Joseph.
What do you mean about officers? Collingsby hasn't the remotest
suspicion that anything is wrong."
"Yes, he has," I replied, coughing and choking, so that I could not
have identified my own voice.
"What has happened?" he demanded, in obvious alarm.
"He knows everything," I barked, with my handkerchief over my mouth.
"He has telegraphed to St. Joseph and fifty other places before this
time to have you arrested."
"Arrested!"
I heard the long breath he drew in his terror.
"We must be off at once."
"What's the matter with you? What makes you cough so?"
"A cold."
"What will you do with the fawn, Ben?"
"She is not agreed to anything," I replied, as I struck a match, for I
thought it was time to have a little more light on the subject.
I had waited till he was in a comfortable position on the locker
opposite me, with the table between us. I lighted the lamp, which was
suspended from the ceiling of the cabin. My cough was suddenly and
miraculously cured.
"What are you going to do, Ben?"
"That will depend upon what you do," I replied, in my natural voice.
"Who are you?"
"Your obedient servant," I answered, throwing off the hat I had worn,
which concealed my face in part.
"Phil!" gasped he, starting back with astonishment.
"Assistant book-keeper, &c.," I replied.
"What are you doing here?"
"Attending to the affairs of the firm which I have the honor to serve.
I am here on their business, though I have a little of mine to attend
to at the same time."
"Where is Mr. Waterford?" demanded he; and I saw by the light of the
lamp that he was as pale as when I had startled him with my balance
sheet in the counting-room.
"I left him over at the mouth of that creek on the other side of the
lake."
"You left him there? Do you mean to say that you have stolen his
yacht?"
"No, sir; I don't mean to say so, and I don't think it is quite fair
for you to say so, since I intend to restore her to Mr. Waterford, or
to his legal representative, on claim, and sufficient evidence of
ownership."
"Who wrote the letter which Peter brought me?"
"I did; but, as I told you in the letter, my hand was injured in the
fight, and I couldn't do justice to my own style of penmanship."
"It was a forgery then."
"I signed no name to it, but left you to draw your own inferences."
"It is just as much a forgery as though you had signed it."
"But not half so much a forgery as receipting a lumber bill of the
Michigan Pine Company. I hope the whiskey reached you in good order and
condition."
"None of your impudence, Phil. This isn't the way to treat one who has
used you as well as I have."
"For all the kindness you have bestowed upon me, I am very grateful;
and I am only sorry you were not worthy of the confidence I felt in
your integrity."
"We need not quarrel, Phil," said he, after a short pause. "We have
always been good friends; let us be so still. I saw a scuffle between
you and Mr. Waterford over at the creek."
"And you thought I had the worst of it."
"I saw him pitch you out of the boat."
"If you had staid a moment longer in sight, you would have seen me
pitch him out afterwards."
I defined and explained my position, and justified it as well as I was
able. Miss Collingsby had appealed to me for help, and in rendering it,
under the circumstances, I did not feel disposed to let the ownership
of the yacht defeat my good intentions to save her from the wiles of a
villain.
"Do you call Ben Waterford a villain?" he demanded.
"The dictionary does not afford me any better word to express my
opinion of him. I wish he was the only one I knew."
"Do you refer to me?"
I explained myself more fully on this point, and the junior partner of
our house mildly expressed his rage. I suppose his stinging conscience
did not permit him to do so in a more determined manner. I told him
that Mr. Collingsby was in possession of all the facts relating to his
defalcations, both of the money and the notes of the firm. He bit his
lip in silence for a few moments, as if arranging his mental forces for
an assault upon me.
"Phil, you have made another stupid blunder," said he. "As I have told
you plainly before, you are insufferably conceited. You think you know
enough for two men, when you know just half enough for one. That's
what's the matter. You have made a pretty kettle of fish."
"I think you made it yourself."
"Don't be impudent. We must return to Chicago at once."
"That's one of my sentiments exactly," I replied. "Shall we weigh
anchor now?"
"Yes, if you like, though there is no wind. I told you Mr. Collingsby
didn't know anything about the business, and would be alarmed at your
ridiculous statements."
"He knows all about the business now, and, as you say, he is a great
deal alarmed."
"I assure you, Phil, upon my honor, that everything about the business
is all right. You have made another blunder."
"I wish I had."
"You have."
"You drew the balance at the bank, and discounted over thirty thousand
dollars' worth of notes."
"I did; and as a member of the firm, I had a perfect right to do so. I
had a chance to make fifty thousand on one lot of lumber. I was not to
be prevented from doing so by a whim of my partner. He prefers
generally to furnish money, rather than put our business paper on the
market. I gave him the opportunity to do so. He refused, and I raised
the money as I could. This is simply a question between Mr. Collingsby
and me. When he wishes to dissolve, I'm ready."
"May I ask what you are doing over here, with such a heavy transaction
on your hands?"
"On my way to buy the lumber. I have the money in my bag," said he,
holding up the article.
"Do you happen to have a package in your bag with my name upon it,
taken from the safe?"
"I have; and I happen to have also an order from my mother for you to
deliver it to me."
"Indeed."
"Here it is," he added, handing me a crumpled paper.
It certainly was an order, setting forth that all differences between
Mrs. Whippleton and her son had been settled, and requiring me to give
him the papers.
"When I was ready to go, I could not find you; so I took the papers;
but you have the order now, and I hope you are satisfied on that
point."
I was not exactly satisfied; but I felt that Mr. Whippleton was arguing
me down, if he was not convincing me.
"How about those invoices?" I continued. "The agent of the Michigan
Pine Company says he sold you no such lumber."
"If he will tell me so to my face, I should like to have him do it. I
will give him an opportunity to-morrow."
Mr. Whippleton was indignant. He talked honest, and I could not gainsay
him. I was almost inclined to believe that I was a fool, and had made a
blunder; but as he was willing to go to Chicago, I was satisfied to
leave the adjustment of the whole matter to Mr. Collingsby. We went on
deck, and as there was a little breeze, we tripped the anchor, and
stood up the lagoon. I was bewildered; but my heaviest catastrophe was
yet to come.