AN AVALANCHE OF GOOD FORTUNE.
Mr. Wittleworth was more astonished than he had ever before been in his
life. This was the gratitude of great men! Mr. Checkynshaw did not seem
to be at all rejoiced to find his papers, and was so mean as to send
for Constable Clapp.
"Didn't you offer a reward of five hundred dollars for your papers, Mr.
Checkynshaw?" asked Fitz.
"I did; and I am willing to pay the reward the moment you have
explained to me where you got them," replied the banker, as he pitched
his prisoner into a chair to await the arrival of the officer.
"I came here in good faith, and I didn't expect to be treated in this
manner," growled Mr. Wittleworth.
"I am not yet willing to pay you for stealing my papers and money, or
for employing another person to do it for you," added Mr. Checkynshaw,
dryly.
"I did not steal them."
"Then you cannot object to telling me where you obtained them."
Mr. Wittleworth did object. He had undertaken to manage this business,
and he expected to make at least a commission out of it. His plan was
to pay Maggie fifty or a hundred dollars of the reward, and keep the
rest himself. It was not probable that the barber,--who was ill at the
time,--or his family, had read the newspapers, and it was not likely
that they knew anything about the reward. Maggie, or even Leo, would be
entirely satisfied with the fifty dollars, and ought to be exceedingly
obliged to him for managing the matter so well for them.
Constable Clapp arrived in a few moments, and the case was stated to
him.
"How much money was stolen with the papers?" asked the officer.
"About three hundred and fifty dollars," replied the banker.
"Very well; if this young gentleman will restore the papers and the
money, he may take the reward; and then we shall be ready to attend to
the criminal charge. That will make a balance of one hundred and fifty
dollars in his favor," chuckled the officer.
"I am entirely willing to pay the reward I offered," added Mr.
Checkynshaw, magnanimously.
"Where did you get the papers, Mr. Wittleworth?" asked the detective.
"I didn't steal them."
"I don't say you did. Where did you get them, was the question I
asked."
"Of course I don't wish to expose anybody. They came into my possession
in consequence of an accident."
"Exactly so!" said the officer, taking the papers from Fitz, and
producing a pair of handcuffs. "In consequence of an accident, I shall
be obliged to put these irons on your wrists, and take you over to the
jail."
"Me!" gasped Fitz, the iron entering his lofty soul. "I should like to
know what my friend Choate would say to that!"
"In one word, will you wear the bracelets, or will you tell where you
obtained the papers? Of course Mr. Checkynshaw will pay the reward. He
is an honorable man, and does all he agrees. You will want the money to
pay your friend Choate for keeping you out of the State Prison. What
will you do?"
Fitz thought for a moment. The disgrace of being marched through the
streets by a person so well known as Mr. Clapp, and with a pair of
irons on his wrists, was intolerable to think of, and he decided to
inform the officer where he had obtained the papers. He then related
the particulars of his interview with Maggie.
"Then you did not find the papers yourself?" said Mr. Checkynshaw, with
a feeling of relief, for it would have galled him sorely to pay the
five hundred dollars to one he disliked so much.
"I did not," replied Fitz.
"Then the reward does not belong to you."
"It is hardly necessary for me to say that I was doing the business for
Miss Maggimore."
"But it was hardly necessary for you to conceal her name."
The banker was really overjoyed to find his papers, and at once drew a
check for the amount which he had offered as a reward.
"We will go down and see Maggie," said the banker, putting the check
into his pocket.
"I think the case is plain enough," added the constable. "When I
ascertain where the papers were found, I shall be better satisfied."
Mr. Checkynshaw called a carriage, and they went to Phillimore Court.
No further notice was taken of Mr. Wittleworth; in fact he was utterly
ignored from the moment he had told his story. He was permitted to
depart in peace. He did depart, but not in peace; for he was not
entirely satisfied. The reward ought to have been paid to him, and he
should have had the lion's share of it. This was his feeling as he
retired from the office.
Maggie was fearfully frightened when she saw the banker and the
constable. The roses fled from her cheek, and she was pale and
trembling. That awful officer had come to bear Leo away to the jail.
She was almost sorry that she had not burned the papers, instead of
sending them back to the owner.
"You have come for poor Leo!" exclaimed she, in terror, when she opened
the door.
"Don't be alarmed, Maggie," said Mr. Checkynshaw, in a tone which was
gentle for him. "We come to inquire about those papers you found."
"I knew you did!" gasped Maggie in despair, as the two gentlemen
followed her into the rear room.
"Where did you find them?" asked Mr. Clapp, in a gentler tone than the
banker could speak.
"In Leo's room," stammered she. "I must tell the truth; but I hope you
won't harm poor Leo."
"Will you show us just where you found them?"
"I will, if you will come up stairs," she added, leading the way. "You
won't put poor Leo in jail--will you? I'm sure he didn't intend to do
any wrong."
"I don't think he did," replied the officer, moved by the distress of
the poor girl.
"I found them at the bottom of Leo's chest," said Maggie, as she
pointed to the place where she had discovered them. "I was cleaning
house, and I cleared out all the closets and drawers. I took all Leo's
things out of his chest, and I found those papers under his summer
clothes."
"Did Leo know they were there?"
"I'm sure I don't know whether he did or not. I don't believe he did.
He never stays in his room only when he is asleep. All the clothes he
wears in the winter are in the top of the chest."
"I looked into that chest when I searched the room on the day the safe
was robbed," added the officer. "I put my hand down into the clothing;
but I suppose I didn't reach the bottom. Where is Leo now?"
"He is at school."
"Can you send for him?"
"You won't take him up--will you? It would break his heart," pleaded
Maggie.
"I don't think it will be necessary to arrest him," replied the
constable, rather cautiously. "The man that stole the papers came to
this room, and I have no doubt he put them there to get rid of them."
"Send for Leo; I will promise you he shall not be taken up," added Mr.
Checkynshaw, taking the responsibility upon himself.
Maggie wrote a note, and sent Tom Casey to the school with it, the
gentlemen having taken seats in the front parlor. In a short time Leo
appeared, trembling lest his father had had another attack of
paralysis. He was not a little surprised to find the banker and the
constable awaiting his arrival.
"Leo, what do you keep in that chest of yours, up in your room?" asked
the officer.
"My clothes, sir," replied Leo, astonished at the strange question.
"What else?"
"Nothing else."
"Don't you keep any white mice in it?" said the constable, smiling.
"No, sir."
"Don't your mice get out of their houses down stairs, and come up?"
"I have seen two or three of them in the kitchen."
"But don't they go up in your chamber?"
"I never saw any up there," answered Leo, puzzled by these singular
inquiries.
"What would you say if I told you that a couple of them had made a nest
in your chest up stairs, and had a litter of little ones there?"
"I don't know what I should say. I don't know that it would be very
strange."
"Should you deny it?"
"If you saw them there I should not, though I don't see how they could
get into the chest. The lid is always closed."
"But you might have left the lid up some morning, and the mice might
have crawled down to the very bottom of the chest, and had a family
there. Could this have happened?"
"It could; but I don't think it is very likely it did happen."
"Why not?"
"I should have smelt them," laughed Leo.
"Shouldn't you have seen them?"
"I don't think I should. Maggie puts my shirts and stockings at the top
of the chest, and I hardly know what there is at the bottom. She takes
care of my things."
"Is there anything in that chest besides your clothes?"
"Yes; I believe there is a piece of brass chain, a ball, some marbles,
and a top in the till."
"Anything else?"
"There may be some other things of that sort in the till. I don't
remember; if you want to know, I will go up and show you."
"Are there any papers there?" demanded the constable, sharply.
"Yes, sir, there are two or three newspapers."
"Any written papers?"
"Not a paper."
"Have you had any papers there at any time?"
"No, sir; I don't remember that I ever did. I keep my papers in the
table drawer in the kitchen."
"Didn't you know there was a package of papers in the chest--such as
bonds, deeds, and notes?"
"No, sir, I didn't know it. I never saw anything of the kind there,"
replied Leo, still puzzled, but satisfied now that something serious
had happened.
"Have you overhauled the contents of your chest lately?"
"No, sir; not since last summer, that I remember."
"Leo, in your chest were found the papers which Mr. Checkynshaw lost."
"Then that Mr. Hart, or whatever his name was, put them there!"
exclaimed Leo, his face turning red. "I never saw them, and didn't know
they were there."
[Illustration: LEO ANSWERS FOR HIMSELF.--Page 248.]
"I am satisfied," interposed Mr. Checkynshaw.
"So am I," added Mr. Clapp.
The truth as it was had been correctly discerned.
"Maggie, I offered a reward of five hundred dollars for those papers,"
continued the banker. "I would have given five thousand rather than not
have had them."
"Then I am very glad you have found them," replied the fair girl, now
entirely relieved of all her fears on account of her brother.
"But you found them, Maggie, and you are entitled to the reward. Here
is my check for the amount. Your father can draw the money for you."
"I don't deserve the reward!" exclaimed Maggie, blushing deeply, as she
took the check. "It is reward enough for me to find that Leo is as good
as I always believed him to be."
"You found the papers, and I am indebted to you for their preservation.
Another might have destroyed them."
"But I only took them out of the chest. I didn't know what they were. I
almost made up my mind that they were good for nothing, and that Leo
had saved them from the dirt barrels to learn how to write such papers
from. I didn't know what to do, and I sent for Mr. Wittleworth to tell
me whether they were good for anything or not. He said they were very
valuable, and told me it was fortunate I sent for him, and then kindly
undertook to return them to you."
"Very kindly!" sneered the banker. "He claimed this reward."
"He did?"
"Yes; but I am very glad it goes to you, instead of to him."
Maggie objected to taking such a vast sum of money for so slight a
service; but Mr. Checkynshaw's mandate was imperative, and he departed,
leaving her bewildered at the sudden fortune which had come down like
an avalanche upon her. Leo went back to school, as delighted at her
good luck as his own in finding himself entirely freed from the charge
of being concerned in the robbery.
As usual, Mr. Wittleworth was the only person who was not satisfied. He
had again been "left out in the cold." He wanted to know what had
happened at the house of Andre, and after dinner he called there; but
Maggie had gone to the barber's shop with her father's noonday meal,
and he found the door locked. In the evening he went again, when both
Andre and Leo were at home.