In the evening, after Fred's second day in the factory, as he sat with
his parents in their pleasant home, and the thought of Carl and of his
sad deformity and still sadder story recurred to him, he could not help
contrasting the circumstances of the little humpback with his own.
Two mornings before, as he entered the mill, he had felt that his burden
was almost greater than he could bear. He was disgraced and thrown out
of his position, and was about entering upon a cheerless life, where
there was but little opportunity for advancement.
But now, as he reflected upon his surroundings, he saw that he was much
better off than many others. He had both father and mother, who loved
and cared for him, who provided for him a cheerful home, and who would
at any time sacrifice their own pleasures and comforts for his.
Moreover, he was well and strong, and had the advantage of attending
school, while Carl had been obliged to go into the mill at a little more
than ten years of age, in order to earn something toward the support of
his mother and invalid father. It was while thus employed that he met
with the terrible accident that so deformed him and blighted his young
life.
"No wonder he looks so sad," said Fred to himself. "Perhaps he may be as
ambitious to make a success in the world as I am, and yet he is thrown
into the factory, and is probably glad of even such a place, and maybe
he works hard at times when he is really unable to do anything. Poor
boy! I don't see what prospects he can see ahead to cheer him on. He has
neither friends, education, nor health, and with so small a chance as
there is in the factory for advancement, I should think he might as well
give up first as last; but as he has no home, I suppose he must earn a
living somehow or starve. If he only had friends to take care of him, it
would not be so hard on him; but I don't see how he can be very happy
with a woman like his aunt, who is always spluttering about somebody or
something."
Fred secretly determined to do all he could to help the little cripple,
and made up his mind that Hanks should not abuse him in the future if he
could help it. Then calling to mind Carl's remark that morning, which
showed so clearly his desire for a better education, he felt he could
aid him, and decided to do so.
"Any new evidence?" asked Sheriff Coombs, as he met Mr. Rexford early
in the morning at the scene of the fire.
"No, nothing except what we discussed last night."
"That is good as far as it goes."
"Well, it goes far enough to convince me," replied the merchant tartly.
"To be sure, sir, but we must convince the court. A mere suspicion, sir,
is not good in law."
"You said last night you were the first one here, and that the fire
started in the back store."
"So I did, but I can't say what caused the fire."
"It shows that it did not catch from the stove."
"That is so, and it leads us to suspect the store was set on fire--in
fact, that is my belief. We stand agreed on this point; but the court
must have evidence or we can't make out a case."
"Then we must search for evidence," said the merchant.
"My official duty, sir, is to bring the wrongdoer to justice, and I
assure you I take a special interest in this case. I shall do my best
work on it; but, by the way, there will be some slight expense connected
with it."
"I don't understand you," replied the merchant nervously, for he caught
the word "expense."
"Nothing of any consequence, to be sure, but of course you know a
detective can't work without means."
"How much will it cost me?" asked the merchant, after a pause.
"I will make it light--for you almost nothing," answered the sheriff,
who began to fear he would lose the opportunity to perform official
service.
"Very well, then, you may go ahead; but I warn you not to come back on
me with a heavy charge for this business."
"Your wishes shall be heeded, sir. I will commence now. By the way, do
you suspect any one in particular?"
"Yes, I have one or two reasons for believing I know who did it."
"Good! That will give us an idea to work on; but first let me look
around and see what I can discover for evidence."
On the rear side of the back room was a window. A few feet from this
window part of a load of sawdust lay upon the ground. Here the sheriff
found several footprints.
"How long has this sawdust been here?" he called out to Mr. Rexford.
"It was put there several days ago," he replied.
"I wish you would look here. I have made an important discovery."
The merchant quickly approached the spot.
"Do you see those footprints? When do you think they were made?"
"Last night about dark I shoveled up several basketfuls and carried them
into the stable. These tracks must have been made since then."
"Do you feel sure of this?"
"I do, and I notice the prints point exactly to where the back window
was."
"That is a good point, sir; but do you notice that whoever made that
track must have had a small foot?"
"Yes, I see it is small, and that goes to strengthen my suspicions."
"It measures ten inches long and three wide," said the sheriff, applying
his rule to the footprint.
In about an hour from this time Sheriff Coombs entered the woolen
factory, and a minute or two later went to the flockers.
"Do you want to see me?" asked Fred, as he saw the officer fasten his
eyes on him.
"Yes; I have a warrant for your arrest."
"For my arrest!" exclaimed Fred in amazement. "What for?"
"On complaint of John Rexford, for setting fire to his store," replied
the sheriff, in a pompous manner.