THE CONSPIRATORS ARE PERPLEXED.
Johnson's hasty exclamation was heard with blank amazement by his two
confederates.
"What do you mean, Colonel? Ain't the bonds there?" asked Travers.
"Do you call these bonds?" demanded Johnson savagely, as he pointed to
the neatly folded brown paper. "You must have brought back your own
parcel, and left the genuine one with the bank messenger."
"No," said Travers, shaking his head; "our package was filled with old
newspapers. This is different."
"It is evidently only a dummy. Was it the only parcel Carver had?"
"Yes, it was the only one."
"Is it possible the villain has fooled us?" said Johnson, frowning
ominously. "If he has, we'll get even with him--I swear it!"
"I don't know what to think, colonel," said Travers. "You can tell
better than I, for you saw him about this business."
"He didn't seem like it, for he caught at my suggestion greedily.
There's another possibility," added Johnson, after a pause, with a
searching glance at his two confederates. "How do I know but you two
have secured the bonds, and palmed off this dummy upon me?"
Both men hastily disclaimed doing anything of the kind, and Johnson was
forced to believe them, not from any confidence he felt in them, but
from his conviction that they were not astute enough to think of any
such treachery.
"This must be looked into," he said slowly. "There has been treachery
somewhere. It lies between you and the messenger, though I did not dream
that either would be up to such a thing."
"You don't think the bank people did it, do you?" suggested Brandon.
"I don't know," said Johnson slowly. "I can't understand how they could
learn what was in the wind, unless one of you three blabbed."
Of course, Travers and Brandon asseverated stoutly that they had not
breathed a word to any third party.
Johnson was deeply perplexed, and remained silent for five minutes.
At length he announced his decision.
"We can do nothing, and decide upon nothing," he said, "till we see
Carver. He went on to Boston, I conclude?"
"Yes, sir."
"He will be back to-morrow. We must watch the trains, and intercept
him."
Leaving this worthy trio in Portland, we follow Ephraim Carver to
Boston. As the cars sped on their way, he felt an uneasy excitement as
he thought of his treachery, and he feared he should look embarrassed
when he was called to account by the Boston bank officials. But there
was a balm in the thought of the substantial sum he was to receive as
the reward of his wrongdoing. That, he thought, would well repay him for
the bad quarter of an hour he would pass in Boston.
"Five thousand dollars! Five thousand dollars!" This was the burden of
his thoughts as he considered the matter. "It will make me independent.
If I can keep my post, I will, and I can then afford to be faithful to
the bank. If they discharge me, I will move away, for my living without
work, and having money to spend, would attract suspicion if I continued
to live in Chester. Somewhere else I can go into business for myself. I
might stock a small dry-goods store, for instance. I must inquire into
the chances of making a living at that business."
So, in spite of his treachery, Ephraim Carver, on the whole, indulged in
pleasing reflections, so that the railroad journey seemed short.
Arrived in Boston, he found that he had just time to go to the bank and
deliver his parcel within banking hours.
"I may as well do it, and have it over with," he said to himself.
So, with a return of nervousness, which he tried to conceal by outward
indifference, he made his way to the bank to which he was commissioned.
He had been there before, and was recognized when he entered.
He was at once conducted into the presence of the president.
To him he delivered the parcel of bonds.
"That will do, Mr. Carver," said the president. "You may go outside
while I examine them."
He was ushered into the ordinary room, and waited five minutes. He was
trying to brace himself for an outburst of surprise, perhaps of stormy
indignation, and searching cross-examination, when the president
presented himself at the door of his private office.
"That will do," he said. "You can go, Mr. Carver."
Carver stared at him in blank amazement. This was precisely what he did
not expect.
"Have you examined the bonds?" he asked.
"Of course," answered the president.
"And you find them all right?" continued the messenger, with
irrepressible surprise.
"I suppose so," answered the president. "I will examine more carefully
presently."
"Then you don't wish me to stay?" inquired Carver.
"No; there is no occasion to do so."
Ephraim Carver left the bank in a state of stupefaction.
"What can it all mean?" he asked himself. "The man must be blind as a
bat if he didn't discover that the package contained no bonds. I don't
believe he opened it at all."
So Carver was left in a state of uncertainty. On the whole he wished
that the substitution had been discovered, so that the president could
have had it out with him. Now he felt that a sword was impending over
his head, which might fall at any time. This was unpleasant, for he did
not know what to expect.
He went back to Portland by a late train, however, as he had arranged to
do.
At the depot he met Colonel Johnson. He was puzzled to find that Johnson
did not look as jubilant as he anticipated, now that their plot had
succeeded. On the other hand, he looked grave and stern.
"Well, colonel, how goes it?" he asked.
"That is for you to say," returned Johnson. "You have seen Brandon and
Travers, I suppose?"
"Yes, I have seen them."
"Then it's all right, and the parcel is in your hands."
"He takes it pretty coolly," thought Johnson. "I can't understand what
it means. I must get to the bottom of this thing. Well, how did they
take it at the bank?" he added, aloud. "Did they make any fuss?"
"No," answered the bank messenger. Johnson was surprised.
"They didn't question you about the parcel you brought them?"
"No; they told me it was all right, and let me go."
"Then they must have got the bonds," said Johnson hastily.
"What! haven't you got them?" asked the messenger, in genuine surprise.
"No," said Johnson bitterly. "The fools brought me a package stuffed
with sheets of brown paper."
Carver stared at him in open-mouthed amazement.
"I don't understand it," he said. "I can't account for any parcel of the
kind."
"They couldn't have made the exchange at all. This must have been their
own parcel."
"No," said Carver; "theirs was stuffed with old newspapers."
"That was what they said."
"They told the truth. I helped them make up the parcel myself."
"Then it must have been their parcel that is now in the hands of the
bank."
"It seems likely."
"Then where are the bonds?" demanded Johnson sternly.
"That is more than I can tell," said the bank messenger, in evident
perplexity.
"It's enough to make a man tear his hair to have such a promising scheme
miscarry," said Johnson gloomily. "I wish I could lay my finger on the
man that's responsible for it."
"I can't understand it at all, colonel. We followed out your
instructions to the letter. Everything went off smoothly."
"Can you tell me where are the bonds?" interrupted Johnson harshly.
"No, I can't."
"Then you may as well be silent."
"I will follow your directions," said Carver submissively. "What do you
wish me to do?"
Johnson reflected a moment. Finally he said:
"Take the earliest morning train to Chester. I will stay here. So will
the other two men."
"Anything further?"
"Only this: Keep your eyes and ears open when you get home. If you hear
anything that will throw light on this affair, write or telegraph, or
send a special messenger, so that I may act promptly on your
information. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir. Your directions shall be followed. I am as anxious as you are
to find out why we failed."