A CHANGE IN MR. DENTON.
"Well, Hardy what have you found out about the Watkins family? Something
satisfactory, I hope!"
Mr. Forbes spoke to the detective with unusual good nature.
But Hardy closed the office door and advanced to the desk where the
superintendent was sitting.
"On the contrary, sir; I have found things very unsatisfactory," was his
answer. "Watkins is in the hospital, half dead from brain fever, his
mother is a feeble old woman without a penny, and as for that young
scamp who stole your money, he's among the missing--he's vamoosed
entirely!"
"Well, why don't you find him?" asked Mr. Forbes, a little less
pleasantly. "That's what I told you to do! Didn't you understand my
orders?"
"I haven't had time to find him," muttered the detective, sullenly.
"He's been spirited away. I think he's out of the city."
"So you see no way of getting back that three hundred dollars. Well,
there's got to be a way! We can't afford to lose it!"
"Lose what?" asked Mr. Denton, coming in just then.
Mr. Forbes hastily repeated the detective's information.
"You say the mother is penniless and young Watkins critically ill? Well,
I should think that was trouble enough for one family," said Mr. Denton
slowly. "Mr. Forbes, it is my wish that you should stop right here! I
wish you to drop the matter of the money completely."
"What!"
Mr. Forbes wheeled around in his chair and stared at his partner.
"I mean it," said Mr, Denton, "and, what is more, I command it! As
senior partner of this firm I expect my orders to be respected!"
Mr. Forbes made a heroic effort at self-control. When he could trust
his voice he attempted to answer.
"Perhaps you have forgotten, Mr. Denton, that we are drawing on our
funds very heavily this week. There are those alterations in the
basement to satisfy the Board of Health and two hundred dollars for that
Miss Jennings' funeral. Neither of these expenses would have been
incurred if I had not been absent so much of late; but is it wise, do
you think, to add to these the three hundred that Sam Watkins robbed us
of?"
Mr. Denton seemed to ignore the last half of the sentence. His mind was
dwelling upon the other things mentioned.
"What I have not forgotten, Mr. Forbes, is this," he said, quietly:
"That funeral that you speak of has given us one of the biggest free
'ads.' that this firm has ever enjoyed. Why, the space it occupies in
one paper alone is worth at least a thousand dollars! And, so far as the
alterations are concerned--well, I have just ordered them stopped. I'm
going to close up that room to employees altogether!"
If the sky had fallen Mr. Forbes could not have been any more surprised.
Even the hardened detective almost gasped in astonishment.
"But you have no right to do this," growled Mr. Forbes. "You should
consult your partners in such matters, Mr. Denton."
Mr. Denton smiled grimly at the angry man's words.
"You are partners, nominally, yes," he said slowly, "but I hardly think
it would pay either you or Mr. Day to oppose me."
His words were very true, as Mr. Forbes well knew. Both he and Mr. Day
were deeply indebted to their senior partner. He "owned them body and
soul," as many persons would express it.
"I have been doing a lot of thinking in the past two days, Mr. Forbes,"
went on Mr. Denton, "but as you would hardly appreciate my sentiments, I
will keep my thoughts to myself a little longer. Here, Hardy, you are
excused from the Watkins affair! Go back to your duties in the store,
and see that you are very careful not to annoy any innocent persons."
Bob Hardy made his way out of the office almost in a daze. He had been
in the service of the store ever since it was opened, but such
instructions as these meant a brand-new departure.
"I wonder what the deuce has got into him, anyway," he muttered. "He
talks like a man that's got struck with religion!"
As he walked slowly down the stairs to the first floor of the building
he met a brother detective, who stared at him curiously.
"What's the matter, Hardy? Look's if you'd had a shock! Been havin' a
set-to with old Forbes, I'll bet a dollar!"
"You're wrong," was Hardy's answer. "It was the old man this time.
There's something wrong with the boss. I think he's getting religion!"
"Get out! You don't mean it!" said the other fellow, contemptuously.
"Don't I?" said Hardy. "Well, you just listen to this!"
He repeated the conversation that had just taken place in the
superintendent's office.
"Whew! That does sound like it!" said his companion, whose name was Ben
Tyler. "He's off his trolley completely, especially about the money!"
"Well, that makes two trow-downs I've got this week," said Hardy,
sourly, "but I got the fifty from that masher that I was telling you
about! You remember, the swell that calls himself Captain Deering?"
"Yes, I remember," laughed Tyler. "So he caught his bird, did he, or,
rather, you caught her for him!"
"I guess it worked all right," said Hardy, slowly. "He met her and
talked with her, and that's usually enough. Still, he was glum as an
oyster when he gave me the money."
"Mr. Hardy," called a voice at the foot of the stairs. "Come down,
quick; you are wanted! There's a shop-lifter over in the hosiery
department!"
Mr. Hardy stopped long enough to hear the words, then he made his way
directly to the department mentioned.
He paused at the counter and began examining some goods, and as he did
so one of the clerks came up to him as though she expected to wait on
him.
"Is this the one?" muttered the detective under his breath, at the same
time making a slight motion toward the woman.
"Can't say," whispered the clerk. "I just missed the goods. There were
six pairs of hose--they all went together."
Hardy glanced again at the woman, whose face was drawn and haggard. She
was by far the poorest customer at the counter.
"'Taint's no use tacklin' them others," he whispered to the clerk, "for
if I ever nabbed a rich one she'd make things lively for me--but I guess
it's the poor one that's got 'em, anyway."
"She looks desperate," answered the clerk, leaning over the counter.
"And, you know, she could sell 'em and make a little something."
Hardy nodded knowingly, with his keen glance still on the woman. As she
moved slowly away from the counter he followed her at a distance.
Five minutes later she had reached the ribbon department. As she stopped
at the counter Faith went forward to wait on her.
"I would like a yard of white ribbon, miss," said the poor woman
timidly. "This cheap ribbon, please, for I haven't much money. It's to
go on the shroud of a poor dead neighbor."
Faith measured the ribbon quickly and made out a check. As she turned
for the woman's money she smiled at her pleasantly.
The next moment Bob Hardy stepped forward and tapped the woman on the
shoulder.
"You are wanted in the office, madam," he said, very rudely. "You've
been stealing goods in the store, and have got them in your pocket!"
With a cry of terror the poor woman looked up into his face.
"It is false!" she cried wildly. "I never stole a penny's worth in my
life! Oh, miss, don't let him touch me! I'm an honest woman!"
In a second Faith darted from her place behind the counter. When she
reached the aisle she threw her arms around the woman.
"Stand back, Bob Hardy! Don't you dare to touch her!" she cried,
sharply. "Are you so blinded with wickedness that you can't see she is
honest?"