A VICTIM OF TREACHERY.
Arrived in Chicago, Fitzgerald put up at the Sherman House, and of
course Robert accompanied him.
Our hero was a little puzzled to understand why he had been engaged.
Little or nothing was given him to do. Once or twice he had been
employed to buy tickets, or go on small errands, but his office seemed
to be a sinecure. This would have suited many boys, but Robert was
a boy of active temperament, and felt happier to be employed. I may
remark here that, in general, nothing is worse for a boy than to be
absolutely unemployed, for it is as true as the old proverb expresses
itself, that "Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do."
One day Robert ventured to remark to his employer, "I am afraid, Mr.
Fitzgerald, I am not earning my wages; I am quite ready to do more."
"That isn't your fault, Robert," said Fitzgerald. "It is true, while
we are travelling I don't find much to do; but when we get to our
destination I shall keep you more busy."
"I am glad of that," said Robert, "for I feel better to be employed."
"I believe I have never said anything about the object of my journey,"
Fitzgerald continued.
"No, sir."
"I am employed by certain New York parties to look after land and
mining investments at the West. I shall have to visit several places,
and there will be more or less writing to do, in which I shall employ
you. By the way" (they were now in the hotel at Chicago), "I will
dictate a letter to you now."
"Very well, sir."
Robert took out writing materials and Fitzgerald dictated the following:
"_Ashley Robinson, Esq., 549 Broadway, New
York_:
"DEAR SIR: I am not quite sure as to the tenor of my instructions
from you. Do I understand that I am empowered to sell your land
without further communication with you, or do you wish me to
apprise you of any offer I may receive? My own impression is that
you ought not to accept less than $5000 for it, as it is sure to
increase in value. Please write me at once.
"Yours truly,
"JOHN FITZGERALD."
"It is done," said Robert.
"You may go out and mail it. I should prefer that you would take it to
the post-office yourself, as it will go quicker than if you mailed it
in the hotel, or put it in one of the street boxes. Any one will tell
you where the post-office is."
Robert went out, well pleased to have something to do, and mailed the
letter at the city post-office, as directed.
Fitzgerald laughed to himself after the boy went out.
"The boy little suspects that that is a bogus letter, and that there is
no such person as Ashley Robinson in New York. If there is, I haven't
the honor of knowing him. It was rather a happy idea of mine, as the
boy's suspicion will not be so easily aroused if he thinks I am engaged
in a legitimate business journey. Well, well, I shall be glad when the
job is accomplished, for it isn't overmuch to my taste. That villain
Hugo might find it to his mind. It is a pity that such fellows should
succeed in feathering their nests and getting all the good things of
this life. When this work is done, I shall have a hold upon him, and
it won't be my fault if I don't make him pay handsomely for doing his
dirty work for him."
Presently Robert returned.
"Did you mail the letter?" asked his employer.
"Yes, sir."
"That is well, for it was an important one."
"You forgot to tell your correspondent where to write you," said
Robert, to whom the omission had occurred as he was returning.
Fitzgerald was for a moment embarrassed, but he was a man of ready wit.
"Oh, he will know," he answered; "he will address me at the town where
his land is located."
This seemed a plausible explanation, and Robert said no more.
They walked to the railroad station with their valises in hand.
On the way rather a rough-looking man accosted Fitzgerald.
"Why, Fitz, old fellow, how did you drop down here?"
Fitzgerald flushed, and answered hurriedly—
"I came by cars from New York."
"I don't mean that. What's your lay, and who have you got with you?"
"Excuse me, Brandon, I am in a hurry," Fitzgerald answered,
uncomfortably.
Brandon whistled.
"Something mysterious, eh?" he said.
"Not at all, but you must excuse me."
It seemed peculiar to Robert, who had seen considerable of the world,
that a reputable business man should be addressed in the terms employed
by Brandon, and he looked his surprise.
"That man is an acquaintance I stumbled across in one of my business
journeys," explained Fitzgerald when they passed on, "and he assumed
undue familiarity. A man stumbles across some strange acquaintances;
I prefer to steer clear of such parties, but it is sometimes hard to
shake them off."
"He seemed very well acquainted," thought Robert, but he said nothing.
In fact he was considerably at a loss what to think of his employer,
who chose to say very little of his past history. He felt that he
should not care to remain long with him, but for the present there
seemed no objection to fill up the remainder of the season in his
employ.
From Chicago Robert and his employer travelled northwest, till they
entered the State of Minnesota. Here, somewhat to Robert's surprise,
they left the cars at a small town, which I will call Florence, and
registered at a small hotel, which I will call the Dearborn House.
Probably our hero looked surprised, and Fitzgerald volunteered an
explanation.
"It is here where Mr. Robertson's land is located," he said.
"I thought it was Mr. Robinson—Ashley Robinson," said Robert.
"To be sure," returned Fitzgerald, rather disconcerted, for he had
forgotten the name he had extemporized in Chicago; "I am always making
mistakes about names. I have to enter everything in my diary."
The morning after, Robert chanced to pick up a piece of paper just
outside his employer's door. As there seemed to be writing upon it he
picked it up, thinking that it might be of some importance.
On the scrap of paper there was a name which immediately arrested
Robert's interest—the name of Hugo Richmond.
"Richmond," repeated Robert, in surprise. "Why, that is the name of
the man I was said so strongly to resemble. Is it possible that Mr.
Fitzgerald knows him?"
Then he bethought himself that Richmond was not an uncommon name and
there was no necessary connection between Hugo Richmond and the Julian
Richmond whom he resembled. Still the discovery of this paper made him
thoughtful. He would have liked to question his employer, but felt
instinctively aware that it would do no good. Besides, from the manner
in which he had found the paper, it would seem as if he were trying to
spy out his master's affairs.
"Robert," said Fitzgerald, after breakfast, "let us go out and take a
walk."
"With pleasure," answered the boy, politely.
"I am going out to take a look at Mr. Robinson's land," said Fitzgerald.
"Has he much?"
"Oh, yes; he owns a quarter section, which he took up some years since
at the government's price—a dollar and a quarter an acre. It must be
worth a good deal more now."
"I suppose he wants to sell?"
"Yes. He lives so far away that he can't well look after it. Besides,
by selling now he can make a large profit."
"Do you think you can sell it readily, Mr. Fitzgerald?"
"Yes; I have written to a land speculator to meet me here to-morrow. I
think I can drive a bargain with him. I shall make a good commission
myself on the sale."
"I am glad of it," said Robert, politely.
They left the road, and went across the fields over the level,
prairie-like land. In the distance was a deserted cabin, which appeared
to be partially burned.
"Are you going to that cabin?" asked our hero.
"Yes," answered his employer. "That cabin is on Mr. Robinson's land."
"Did he build it?"
[Illustration: ROBERT THROWN INTO THE DISUSED WELL.]
"No; it was built by a squatter, who took advantage of the owner being
a non-resident, and made himself at home here, without leave or
license. The cabin had not been erected long, however, before it caught
fire and was partially burned."
"Does any one live there now?"
"No."
The two kept on their way till they reached the deserted cabin.
A rod or two distant was an open well, which seemed, as well as the
cabin, to be disused.
"The squatter seems to have dug a well," said Robert.
"Yes; I wonder whether it is deep," said Fitzgerald.
Naturally Robert advanced till he stood on the brink of the well. An
instant later and he was pushed violently forward and fell into the
yawning pit.
"That disposes of him forever!" said Fitzgerald, and turning, he fled
swiftly from the spot, leaving the victim of his treachery to his fate.