LIKE A STUCK PIG.
Hannibal was neither better nor worse, morally, because his color was
black. There are men with white complexions who would have done exactly
as he did. There are others as dark as Erebus who would have done
nothing of the sort.
He was no ordinary negro. His intelligence was above the average. When
he first entered the employ of Mr. Fern, that gentleman took every pains
to encourage the aptitude for learning that he found in him. Hannibal
accompanied his employer to his office, where he was entrusted with
important commissions, which he seemed for a long time to execute with
faithfulness and discrimination. At home he performed his duties in a
way that gave great satisfaction. At the end of the first six months Mr.
Fern would have hated to part with a servant that he believed difficult
to replace.
But the great source of trouble arose gradually. Hannibal began to
entertain a sentiment for his master's younger daughter that was
impossible of fruition. Daisy treated him in the most considerate
manner, never dreaming what was going on behind his serious brow.
Millicent, ungovernable in all things, began early to show the bitterest
enmity toward the negro, while her sister, seeing that her father liked
and appreciated him, tried by her own kindness to compensate for the
other's rudeness. What caused Millicent's feelings Daisy had no means of
knowing, and she had not the least suspicion until she heard the
conversation in the library the night the house was entered. Even then
she did not take the subject much to heart, for she did not comprehend
all that Hannibal had meant to convey in the brief and sarcastic
expression he used. Daisy had a mind too pure to believe anything so
heinous of her own sister as Hannibal had intimated.
The passion of love is a thing that grows in curious ways. What made it
seem to Hannibal that there was hope for him was the discovery that Mr.
Fern was committing forgeries and that the proofs might be his for the
taking. If he could hold such a power as that over this gentleman, who
could say that even so great a mesalliance as his daughter's marriage to
an African might not be arranged?
The negro proceeded cautiously. He secured the proofs he wished, and let
Mr. Fern know tacitly that he had them. The terror, the undisguised fear
that followed, the admittance of the menial to a totally different
position in the household and the office, showed that the servant had
not underrated the importance of his acquisition.
Not one word bearing directly on the subject passed between them. The
condition of the merchant was more horrible than it would have been had
his employe said outright, "I have the proof that you are a forger--I
can send you to prison for twenty years, and I will do so unless you do
so-and-so for me." He did not know how Hannibal meant to use his
information. He was afraid to broach the matter to him. He could only
wait and suffer; and suffer he did, as a proud-spirited, high-minded man
who has made an error must suffer, when such a sword hangs over his
head, ready at any moment to fall.
As Walker Boggs had said, Mr. Fern was not by nature a business man.
After the former's retirement from active participation in the concern
there was a series of losses. When Mr. Fern took his pen and began to
imitate the signature of his late partner on a sheet of paper, nothing
but some such course stood between him and bankruptcy. He felt certain
that if he could tide over twenty-four hours he would be saved. Before
he left his office he had made a note, written Mr. Boggs name across the
back of it, and raised money thereon.
He did this many times afterwards, but finally, when he again wanted a
name to save himself with, he dared not use this one. Boggs had called
in to remark that he should withdraw the capital he had lent as soon as
the term arranged for had expired. The sum was already infringed upon,
had the investor known it. The next name used was that of Archie Weil.
Archie had been to the house a good deal to see Millicent. Mr. Fern
believed there was a love affair between them, and he caught at the
straw of possible protection in case of discovery. The forgeries became
numerous, and the total amount on that day when the passage of a new
tariff saved the venturesome speculator, was very large. Hannibal was at
this time in foreign parts, or at least so the merchant supposed. He
soothed his conscience with the reflection that this additional wrong
act would enable him to right the others that preceded it. And things
might have gone well had not the negro returned, consumed with the love
he bore the younger daughter, and had not his love turned to vinegar by
her contemptuous rejection of his advances.
An hour after Daisy left him, Hannibal had made up his mind to be
revenged. He had faltered a little in the meantime, asking himself what
good it would do to bring disgrace on the head of this poor old man, but
his injuries were too strong for mercy. He was despised by them all; he
would show them that, black as he was, his ability to hurt was no less
strong than theirs. Roseleaf had made the first impression on that young
heart he himself had craved. It remained to be seen whether he would wed
the daughter of a convict. There would be something pleasant, too, in
disgracing Millicent, who had once placed herself in a position where he
could have blasted her reputation forever, and had afterwards dared to
treat him as if he were the dirt beneath her shoes. Yes, Hannibal
decided, he would go to Mr. Weil and Mr. Boggs, and show them the way
this man had used their names, hawking them in the public market without
their knowledge.
When Hannibal reached the Hoffman House and inquired for Mr. Weil, he
was told that he was absent. An hour later he received the same answer.
A visit to the residence of Mr. Boggs elicited a reply precisely
similar. In fact, the day wore away and evening arrived before he found
them.
In the meantime, Mr. Weil had not been idle. While Daisy and Shirley
Roseleaf were tearfully exchanging their explanations, he sent a
messenger to Mr. Boggs, asking that gentleman to come to him without
delay. An hour later the messenger arrived with the gentleman, and
having engaged a room for temporary use, and seen to it that Roseleaf
wanted nothing at present but his fair nurse, Archie pulled Boggs in and
locked the door securely.
"What's all this?" exclaimed Boggs. "You look and act as if there was
the devil to pay."
"There is," was the short answer. "I want you to do one of the most
creditable acts of your life. I want it as a personal favor, and I'm
going to have it, too."
Mr. Boggs crossed his hands over his paunch and waited for further
information.
"Are you a first-class liar?" was Mr. Weil's next question. "Could you,
in an emergency, do yourself justice as an eminent prevaricator? Are you
able, for a certain time, to banish truth from your vicinity?"
Mr. Boggs remarked, in response to these astonishing suggestions, that
he could tell much better what his friend was about if he would drop
metaphor.
Mr. Weil hesitated. He saw no way but to trust this man with the facts,
and yet he dreaded the possibility that he might prove obstinate.
"By-the-way," he said, as if to change the subject temporarily, "have
you been out to see Fern lately?"
Mr. Boggs shook his head.
"You ought to," said Weil. "He's improved a thousand per cent. in the
last few weeks. His financial luck has made a new man of him."
"I'm glad of that," responded the other. "And I'm glad too that I've got
my money out of his firm, for I had a strong suspicion at one time that
he was running pretty close to the wall."
Mr. Weil nodded to show that he believed this statement, and then grew
sober.
"Sometimes, when men get into a tight place financially," he said, "they
do queer things. Supposing I should tell you that Mr. Fern had endorsed
checks and notes in a way he was not authorized to do?"
The stout man opened his eyes wider.
"That would be a piece of news," he answered. "But, if he did, he's made
it all right by this time, of course, and nobody is the loser."
Mr. Weil drew himself up in his chair, as if righteously indignant.
"Do you think that is enough?" he demanded, raising his voice. "By Gad,
supposing I tell you my name was one of those he monkeyed with!"
The other did not seem much perturbed.
"If the paper is all in, I wouldn't make a fuss about it, if I were
you," he replied. "Fern is a good fellow. He has gone out of business,
and I hope he'll never go in again. Take my advice, if you have learned
anything to his discredit, and keep it to yourself."
Weil could hardly control himself.
"Do you think I intend to let him forge my name on his notes and checks
and not put him under arrest!" he cried; "when the proofs are beyond
question?"
Mr. Boggs bowed and said he meant that, exactly. He further remarked
that he was astonished that his friend had any other idea in his mind.
The Fern family was one in which he had been favorably received and he
ought to do everything possible to prevent harm to any of its members.
As he proceeded in this vein, Mr. Boggs grew so earnest that he did not
notice the broad smile of happiness that was creeping over the face of
his companion, and was not prepared to find a pair of manly arms clasped
around his neck.
"You--you!" Archie Weil was trying to say. "You dear, kind, sensible
fellow. You've made me the happiest man on earth! Of course _I_ wouldn't
trouble Fern, but I was afraid _you_ would. He used your name as well as
mine, the rascal! Everything is paid up, and all the trouble now is that
a miserable scamp has got hold of some of the paper and wants to
blackmail him. And what I called you here to-day for is to get you to
agree--with me--to acknowledge every scrap of that paper as being our
own!"
The sudden change was more than Mr. Boggs could bear for a moment. He
sat, to use a common expression, "like a stuck pig," staring at Archie.
"You remember the nigger that worked for Fern," explained Mr. Weil. "He
got hold of some of these notes and checks, in Fern's office, and is
coming to look us up to-day, for the purpose of having his employer
arrested. A nice game, eh? But we will foil him, won't we? We'll show
him a trick worth several of his! He's probably gone to the Hoffman
House and he'll hang round till he finds me. I'll send word that I am to
be home this afternoon at five. You will be there with me. We'll tackle
him together. When he tells us that he has some forged paper in his
possession we'll act astonished and enraged; we'll ask him to show it to
us; and when we've got it all in our hands we'll say the signatures are
our own, and kick him down stairs. Are you with me, Walker? Is it a go,
old boy?"
The agreement was made without more ado. Mr. Boggs began to see the
humorous element in the affair, and actually came nearer laughing than
he had done since the day he discovered that the size of his waist
placed him out of the list of eligible "mashers."
When everything was settled, Mr. Weil excused himself for a few moments,
while he tiptoed to Roseleaf's door and knocked. Daisy came to open it,
and when she saw who the visitor was she blushed charmingly.
"Come in," she said. "I am sure both of us are glad to see you."
Shirley's eyes met those of his friend with a strange expression. He
knew now that all his suspicions were unfounded, that Weil had proved
himself noble and true. But the apologies that he owed could not be
suitably made in the presence of a third person, and he made no
reference to them. His changed appearance was enough, however, for
Archie. The reconciliation with the girl of his heart was perfect, and
the happiness that shone from their faces repaid their good friend for
his sacrifice.
"I think I ought to take Miss Daisy to her train now," said Archie,
after the exchange of a few ordinary remarks. "She can come to see you
to-morrow again, and before many days we will have matters arranged with
pater familias, so that Shirley can go out to Midlands in his proper
capacity. Oh, you need not redden, little woman! The love you two have
for each other does both of you credit."
Returning to Mr. Boggs, for the sake of allowing the young couple a few
minutes for their good-bys, Archie dismissed that gentleman with the
understanding that not later than half-past four he would join him in
his room at the Hoffman House. Soon after he escorted Miss Fern to her
station, and before he left the building Archie sent a dispatch to her
father, asking him to come to the city and meet him at his hotel at four
that afternoon.
Everything worked to a charm. Mr. Fern arrived at the time designated
and went promptly to Mr. Weil's apartments. A brief explanation of what
was about to occur threw the wool merchant into a state of extreme
agitation, but he was assured that the last particle of danger to
himself would be removed before he left the Hoffman House. He was asked
to step into an inner room of the suite, the door of which was to be
left ajar, and to make no move unless he was called.
Mr. Boggs came at his appointed hour, and Hannibal soon after. Delighted
to find both gentlemen--accidentally, as he supposed--the negro began
without delay to explain the cause of his visit. He stated the manner in
which he had discovered the forgeries, and said he thought it only his
duty to let the facts be known.
Messrs. Weil and Boggs exchanged glances of well-simulated surprise as
the discoverer proceeded.
"How long is it since you first knew of this matter?" asked Mr. Weil,
when Hannibal came to a pause.
"Something like eighteen months."
"And you allowed this swindle to go on all that time without saying a
word!" said the questioner. "I am surprised, when I remember that for a
long time you saw me almost daily."
"That is true," was the quiet response. "I could not easily bring myself
to disgrace one whose bread I was eating. But that does not matter now.
I have here a number of notes on which Mr. Fern has forged both of your
names. The law will hold him just as strongly as if I had exposed him at
the time."
He exhibited a package of papers, and unsuspiciously passed them to the
two gentlemen. Undoing the band Archie Weil spread the documents on the
centre table and went over them carefully with Mr. Boggs, separating
those which bore their several names. A close perusal of all the notes
followed, and finally Mr. Weil looked up and asked if there were any
more.
"No, those are all," said Hannibal. "I believe there are thirty-six of
them."
Mr. Weil consulted in a low tone with Mr. Boggs. They seemed puzzled
over something.
"If these are really all the notes you have," said Archie, "there has
been a great mistake on your part. These endorsements are genuine in
every case. Where are the forged papers of which you spoke?"
The negro stared with all his might at the speaker.
"Genuine!" he repeated.
"Undoubtedly, as far as my name is concerned. I have lent my credit to
Mr. Fern for a long time."
"That is equally true of myself," spoke up Boggs, slowly. "I wrote every
one of these signatures and I am willing to swear to them."
Hannibal's eyes flashed with baffled rage. He had been trapped. These
men had conspired to save his late employer from his clutches. They had
lied, deliberately, and he was powerless against their combined
assertions, although he knew the falsity of all they said.
"You will be as glad as we to learn the truth," said Archie, in a softly
modulated voice. "It would have grieved you to know that your kind
employer had made himself amenable to the criminal law. Your only
object in this matter was to ease your conscience, and do justice. There
is nothing, now, to prevent your returning at your earliest convenience
to France."
The negro rose and took up his hat.
"This is very nice," he growled, "but I want to tell you that you are
not through with me yet."
Mr. Weil rose also.
"I trust," he said, "that you are not going to be impolite. I certainly
would not be guilty of discourtesy to you. But let me assure you of one
thing: If you ever, hereafter, annoy in the slightest degree my friend,
Mr. Fern, or any member of his family, you will wish heartily that you
had never been born. We can spare you now, Mr. Hannibal."
With the last words, Archie waved his hand toward the door, and without
further reply than a glare from his now blood-shot eyes, the African
strode from the apartment.
"I want you to take a ride in the Park with me, for an hour or so, and
then we will return here for dinner," said Mr. Weil to Mr. Boggs.
He did this to allow Mr. Fern to leave the house without Boggs' knowing
he was there, and also to avoid a meeting that he felt would be too full
of gratitude to suit his temperament just then.