A CONFIDENTIAL MISSION.
When Fred met Mr. Wainwright at the office the next morning his
employer greeted him with a pleasant smile, but did not stop to speak.
Fred felt relieved, for it embarrassed him to be thanked, and since the
evening previous no one had met him without speaking of his heroism.
Now Fred was inclined to be modest, and he could not possibly feel that
he had done anything heroic, though he was quite aware that he had
saved the life of Rose Wainwright. He looked upon it rather as a
fortunate opportunity for rendering his employer a valuable service.
At one o'clock Fred took his hat, intending to go to lunch. He lunched
at a quiet place in Nassau Street, and never spent over twenty-five
cents for this meal, feeling that he must give the bulk of his salary
to his mother.
He was just going out when he heard his name called.
Looking back, he saw that it was the broker himself who was speaking to
him. Mr. Wainwright had his hat on, and seemed about going out, too.
"You must go to lunch with me to-day, Fred."
"Thank you, sir," answered Fred respectfully.
They walked through Wall Street together, the broker chatting
pleasantly. On the way Fred met Raymond, who stared in surprise and
disgust as he saw the intimate terms on which Fred appeared to be with
his wealthy employer. Mr. Wainwright led the way into an expensive
restaurant of a very select character, and motioned Fred to sit down at
a table with him.
After the orders were given, he said: "I have invited you to lunch with
me, as I could not speak at the office without being overheard. Of
course the great service which you rendered me and mine last evening, I
can never forget. I do not propose to pay you for it."
"I am glad of that, sir," said Fred earnestly.
"I feel that money is entirely inadequate to express my gratitude, but
I shall lose no opportunity of advancing your interests and pushing you
on in business."
"Thank you, sir."
"Indeed, it so happens that I have an opportunity even now of showing
my confidence in you."
Fred listened with increased attention.
"Some months since," continued the broker, "a confidential clerk who
had been employed in my office for years suddenly disappeared, and with
him about fifteen thousand dollars in money and securities. As they
were my property, and no one else was involved, I did not make the loss
public, thinking that I might stand a better chance of getting them
back."
"But, sir, I should think the securities would be sold, and the amount
realized spent."
"Well thought of, but there was one hindrance. They were not negotiable
without the indorsement of the owner in whose name they stood."
"Yes, sir, I see."
"Sooner or later, I expected to hear from them, and I have done so.
Yesterday this letter came to me from my defaulting clerk."
He placed a letter, with a Canadian postmark in Fred's hand.
"Shall I read it?'" asked Fred.
"Yes, do so."
This was the letter:
MR. WAINWRIGHT,
DEAR SIR--I am ashamed to address you after the manner in which I have
betrayed your confidence and robbed you, but I do it in the hope of
repairing to some extent the wrong I have committed, and of restoring
to you a large part of the stolen bonds. If it depended on myself alone
I should have little difficulty, but I had a partner in my crime. I may
say indeed that I never should have robbed you had I not been
instigated to it by another, This man, who calls himself Paul Bowman, I
made acquaintance with at a billiard saloon in New York. He insinuated
himself into my confidence, inquired my salary, denounced it as
inadequate, and finally induced me to take advantage of the confidence
reposed in me to abstract the securities which you lost. He had made
all arrangements for my safe flight, accompanying me, of course. We
went to Montreal first, but this is so apt to be the refuge of
defaulters that we finally came to the small village from which I
address these lines.
There was a considerable sum of money which we spent, also five hundred
dollars in government bonds on which we realized. The other securities
we have not as yet been able to negotiate. I have proposed to Bowman to
restore them to you by express, and trust to your kindness to spare us
a criminal prosecution, and enable us to return to the States, for
which I have a homesick longing. But he laughs the idea to scorn, and
has managed to spirit away the bonds and conceal them in some place
unknown to me. Of course this makes me entirely dependent upon him. To
make matters worse, I have fallen sick with rheumatism, and am
physically helpless.
If you could send here a confidential messenger who could ascertain the
hiding-place of the bonds, I would thankfully consent to his taking
them back to you, and I would make no conditions with you. If you felt
that you could repose confidence in me once more. I would willingly
return to your employment, and make arrangements to pay you by degrees
the value of the money thus far expended by Bowman and myself. There
are still thirteen thousand five hundred dollars' worth of securities
left untouched in their original packages.
We are living in a small village called St. Victor, thirty miles from
the American line. We occupy a small cottage rather out of the village,
and go by our own names. Do not write to me, for the letter would be
seen by Paul Bowman, and defeat my plans, but instruct your messenger
to seek a private interview with me. I am detained at home by sickness
at present, but Bowman is away most of the day. He is fond of hunting,
and spends considerable of the day in the woods, while his evenings are
spent at the inn, where there is a pool table. I have managed to send
this to the post office by a small girl who comes here in the morning
to make the bed and sweep. Hoping earnestly that this communication may
reach you, I sign myself
Your repentant clerk,
JAMES SINCLAIR.
Fred read this letter with great interest. "He seems to write in good
faith," he said, as he handed it back.
"Yes; Sinclair is not so wicked as weak. I quite believe him when he
says that it was Bowman who instigated him to the deed."
"Do you think there is any chance of recovering the securities?" asked
Fred.
"That depends upon whether I can secure a discreet and trustworthy
messenger."
"Yes, sir; I suppose that is important."
"Perhaps you can suggest some one?" said the broker, eying Fred
attentively.
Fred shook his head.
"I have too few acquaintances to think of anyone who would be fit," he
answered.
"Would you undertake it yourself?" asked Mr. Wainwright.
"I?" stammered Fred in genuine surprise.
"Yes."
"But don't you think I am too young?"
"Perhaps your youth may be a recommendation."
"I don't see how, sir."
"By drawing away suspicion from you. Should I send a man, the
appearance of a stranger in a small place like St. Victor--I think it
has little more than a thousand inhabitants--would very likely excite
the suspicions of this Bowman, and so defeat the chances of success."
"Yes, sir, I see that."
"Of course your youth presents this objection--that you may not have
the requisite judgment and knowledge of the world for so delicate a
mission."
"That is what I am afraid of, sir."
"Still, I have observed you closely, and have found you prompt,
self-reliant, and possessed of unusual good sense. So, upon the whole,
having no other person in my mind, I have decided to send you to St.
Victor if you will consent to go."
"I will certainly go, sir, if you desire it, and will do my best to
succeed."
"That is all that any one could do, whatever might be his age and
experience. When will you be ready?"
"To-morrow, if you wish it, sir."
"The sooner the better. I shall provide you with ample funds to defray
your expenses. As to instructions, I have none to give. You must be
guided by circumstances, and fall back in times of perplexity upon your
natural shrewdness. Now let us address ourselves to the dinner."