THE TABLES TURNED.
Under ordinary circumstances, Chester would have handed the receipt to
the bookkeeper, but he was convinced that it was the purpose of Mr.
Mullins to defraud the tenant out of a month’s rent, and he felt that
it would not be in the interest of the latter for him to put this power
in the hands of the enemy. Obviously the receipt belonged to James
Long, who had lost it.
Fortunately, Chester had the address of the mechanic on East Twentieth
Street, and he resolved, though it would cost him quite a walk, to call
and give him the paper. In twenty minutes after locking the office he
found himself in front of a large tenement house, which was occupied by
a great number of families. He found that Long lived on the third floor
back.
He knocked at the door. It was opened to him by a woman of forty, who
had a babe in her arms, while another—a little girl—was holding onto
her dress.
“Does Mr. James Long live here?” asked Chester.
“Yes.”
“Is he at home?”
“No, but I am expecting him home from work every minute. Will you come
in, or shall I give him your message?”
“Perhaps I had better see him, if it won’t inconvenience you.”
“Oh, no, if you will excuse my poor rooms,” said Mrs. Long, pleasantly.
“I am poor myself, and am not used to fine rooms.”
“Take the rocking-chair,” said Mrs. Long, offering him the best chair
in the room. “If you will excuse me, I will go on preparing my
husband’s supper.”
“Certainly. Shall I take the baby?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t like to trouble you.”
“I like babies.”
Chester had seen that the baby’s face was clean, and that it looked
attractive. Babies know their friends instinctively, and this
particular baby was soon in a frolic with its young guardian.
“I guess you are used to babies,” said the mother, pleased.
“No, I am the only baby in my family, but I am fond of children.”
I may remark here that manly boys generally do like children, and I
haven’t much respect for those who will tease or tyrannize over them.
In ten minutes a heavy step was heard on the stairs, and James Long
entered. His face was sober, for, after his interview with Chester
Rand—he had not had time for a second call—he began to fear that he
should have to pay his month’s rent over again, and this to him would
involve a severe loss.
He looked with surprise at Chester, not immediately recognizing him.
“I come from Mr. Fairchild’s office,” explained Chester.
“Oh, yes; I remember seeing you there. Has the receipt been found?” he
added, eagerly.
“Yes.”
James Long looked very much relieved.
“I am very glad,” he sighed. “Mr. Mullins wouldn’t have believed me.
What does he say now?”
“He doesn’t know that the receipt is found.”
“How is that?” asked the mechanic, puzzled.
“I found it after Mr. Mullins went away.”
“Where did you find it?”
“In the clothes closet, just under where Mr. Mullins hangs his coat,”
added Chester, significantly.
“And you bring it to me?”
“Yes, it belongs to you. Besides, after what I heard, I didn’t dare to
trust it in the hands of the bookkeeper.”
“I see you think the same of him as I do.”
“I don’t like him.”
“You think he meant to cheat me?”
“It looks like it.”
“I am all right now. What do you think I had better do?”
“Come round to-morrow, but don’t show the receipt unless Mr. Fairchild
is in the office. He is a very different man from Mr. Mullins. The
bookkeeper might still play a trick upon you?”
“I believe you’re right. Shall I tell him how you found and gave me
back the receipt?”
“No; let Mr. Mullins puzzle over it. It is fortunate he didn’t destroy
the receipt, or you would have had no resource.”
“You’re a smart boy, and I’ll take your advice. How long have you been
in the office?”
“This is my first day,” answered Chester, smiling.
“Well, well! I couldn’t have believed it. You will make a smart
business man. You’ve been a good friend to James Long, and he won’t
forget it. I say, wife, perhaps this young gentleman will stay to
supper.”
“Thank you,” answered Chester. “I would, but I am to meet a friend
uptown at six o’clock. It is so late,” he added, looking at the clock
on the mantel, “that I must go at once.”
When Chester met his friend the artist, he told him of what had
happened.
“That Mullins is evidently a rascal, and a very mean one,” said Mr.
Conrad. “If I were going to defraud anyone, it wouldn’t be a poor
mechanic.”
“Mr. Mullins has already taken a dislike to me. If he should discover
that I have found the receipt and given it to Mr. Long, he would hate
me even worse.”
“You must look out for him. He will bear watching.”
“I wish he were more like Mr. Fairchild. He seems a fair, honorable
man.”
“He is. I don’t understand why he should employ such a fellow as
Mullins.”
“Perhaps he hasn’t found him out.”
“Mullins will find it hard to explain this matter. Let me know how it
comes out. I suppose Long will call at the office to-morrow?”
“Yes; I advised him to.”
The next day, about twenty minutes after twelve, James Long entered the
office. He looked about him anxiously, and, to his relief, saw that Mr.
Fairchild was present. He went up to the table where the broker was
seated.
“I came about my rent,” he said.
“You can speak to Mr. Mullins,” said the broker, going on with his
writing.
“I would rather speak with you, sir.”
“How is that?” asked Mr. Fairchild, his attention excited.
“I will tell you, sir,” said the bookkeeper, with an ugly look. “This
man came here yesterday and declined to pay his rent, because, he said,
he had paid it already.”
“And I had,” said Long, quietly. “I am a mechanic on small wages, and I
can’t afford to pay my rent twice.”
“Did you pay the rent to Mr. Mullins?”
“Yes, sir.”
“When?”
“Day before yesterday.”
“Then he gave you a receipt?”
“He did, sir.”
“It seems to me that than settles the question. Did you give him a
receipt, Mr. Mullins?”
“If I had, he could show it now. He says that he left it behind in the
office here. Of course, that’s too thin!”
“It is very important to take good care of your receipt, Mr. Long.”
“Did you ever lose or mislay a receipt, sir?”
“Yes, I have on two or three occasions.”
“So that I am not the only one to whom it has happened.”
“Mr. Mullins, did Mr. Long come to the office on the day when he says
he paid the rent?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And he didn’t pay it?”
“No, sir. He said he hadn’t the money, but would bring it in a few
days.”
James Long listened in indignant astonishment.
“That is untrue, sir. I made no excuse, but handed Mr. Mullins the
amount in full.”
“There is a very extraordinary discrepancy in your statements. You say
that he wrote out a receipt?”
“Yes, sir.”
“It is a pity that you can’t produce it.”
“Yes,” chimed in Mullins, with a sneer, “it is unlucky that you cannot
produce it.”
Then came a sensation.
“I can produce it,” said Long. “The receipt has been found,” and he
drew out the slip of paper and passed it to Mr. Fairchild.
The face of Mullins was a study. His amazement was deep and genuine.
“It must be a forgery,” he said. “Mr. Long can’t possibly have a
receipt.”
“You are mistaken,” said Mr. Fairchild. “The receipt and the signature
are genuine, and it is written on one of our letter heads.”
Mullins took the receipt and faltered:
“I don’t understand it.”
“Nor do I,” said the broker, sternly. “Did you make any entry on the
books?”
“I—I don’t remember.”
“Show me the record.”
Mr. Fairchild opened the book, and saw an entry made, but afterward
erased.
When the bookkeeper found the receipt on the table, a promising piece
of rascality was suggested to him. He would keep the money himself, and
conceal the record.
“Mr. Long,” said the broker, “here is your receipt. It is clear that
you have paid your rent. You will have no more trouble.”
Then, as the mechanic left the office, the broker, turning to the
bookkeeper, said, sternly:
“Another such transaction, Mr. Mullins, and you leave my employ.”
“But, sir——” stammered Mullins.
“You may spare your words. I understand the matter. If you had not been
in my employ so long, I would discharge you at the end of this week.”
Mullins went back to his desk, crushed and mortified. But his brain was
busy with the thought, “Where could James Long have obtained the
receipt?” He remembered having put it into the pocket of his overcoat,
and it had disappeared.
“I was a fool that I didn’t destroy it,” he reflected.