THE STORY OF HARVEY JAMES.
It is late in the afternoon when I awake, for Mrs. Harris has been
better than her word.
Jim is already up, and conversing with Mr. Harris on the all-absorbing
topic, of course.
After a bountiful and well-cooked dinner has received our attention, Jim
and I go together to the cottage.
Here we are put upon the witness stand by "our old woman," who takes
ample vengeance for having been kept so long in the dark concerning my
business in Trafton.
After he has berated us to his entire satisfaction, and after Bethel,
who, having heard a little, insists upon hearing more, has been
gratified by an account of the capture, given for the most part by Jim
Long, we go southward again and come to a halt in Jim's cottage. Here we
seat ourselves, and, at last, I hear the story of Jim Long, or the man
who has, for years, borne that name.
* * * * *
"My name is Harvey James," he begins, slowly. "My father was a farmer,
and I was born upon a farm, and lived there until I became of age.
"Except two years passed at a college not far from my home, I had never
been a week away from my father's farm. But after my twenty-first
birthday, I paid a visit to the city.
"It was short and uneventful, but it unsettled me. I was never content
upon the home farm again.
"After my father died and the property came into my possession, I
resolved to be a farmer no longer, but to go and increase my fortune in
the city.
"My farm was large and valuable, and there was considerable money in the
bank. My mother clung to the farm; so, as the house was a large one, I
reserved for her use, and mine when I should choose to come home, a few
of the pleasantest rooms, and put a tenant into the remainder of the
house.
"I was engaged to be married to a dear girl, the daughter of our nearest
neighbor. She was pretty and ambitious. She heartily approved of my new
departure, but when I urged our immediate marriage, she put the matter
off, saying that she preferred to wait a year, as by that time I should
be a city gentleman; and until I should have become established in
business, I would have no time to devote to a rustic wife. If she had
married me then, my fate might have been different, God knows! But I
went to the city alone, and before the year had elapsed I was in a
prison cell!
"I took with me a considerable sum of money, and I commenced to enjoy
city life. I began with the theaters and billiards, and went on down the
grade. Before I had been in town a mouth I became acquainted with
Brooks, the name then used by 'Squire Brookhouse. He professed to be a
lawyer, and this profession, together with his superior age, won my
confidence, as, perhaps, a younger man could not have done. After a time
he made me acquainted with Joe Blaikie and Jake Lowenstein, both
brokers, so he said.
"I was an easy victim; I soon began to consult the 'brokers' as to the
best investment for a small capital.
"Of course they were ready to help me. I think I need not enter into
details; you know how such scoundrels work. We soon became almost
inseparable, and I thought myself in excellent company, and wrote
glowing letters to my mother and sweetheart, telling them of my fine new
friends and the promising prospect for a splendid investment, which was
to double my money speedily, and laying great stress upon the fact that
my prospective good fortune would be mainly brought about by my
'friends,' the lawyer and the brokers, who 'knew the ropes.'
"At last the day came when I drew a considerable sum of money from my
home bankers, to invest in city stock. The 'brokers' strongly advised me
to put in all I could command, even to the extent of mortgaging my farm,
but this I would not do. I adhered to my stern old father's principle,
'never borrow money to plant,' and I would not encumber my land; but I
drew every dollar of my ready capital for the venture.
"I had established myself in comfortable rooms at a hotel, which,
by-the-by, was recommended me by Brooks, as a place much frequented by
'solid men.' And soon the three blacklegs began dropping in upon me
evenings, sometimes together, sometimes separately. We would then amuse
ourselves with 'harmless' games of cards. After a little we began to bet
chips and coppers, to make the game more interesting.
"They worked me with great delicacy. No doubt they could have snared me
just as easily with half the trouble they took. I was fond of cards, and
it was not difficult to draw me into gambling. I had learned to drink
wine, too, and more than once they had left me half intoxicated after
one of our 'pleasant social games,' and had laughingly assured me, when,
after sobering up, I ventured a clumsy apology, that 'it was not worth
mentioning; such things would sometimes happen to gentlemen.'
"On the night of my downfall I had all my money about my person,
intending to make use of it early on the following morning. I expected
the three to make an evening in my room, but at about eight o'clock
Lowenstein came in alone and looking anxious.
"He said that he had just received a telegram from a client who had
entrusted him with the sale of a large block of buildings, and he must
go to see him that evening. It was a long distance, and he would be out
late. He had about him a quantity of gold, paid in to him after banking
hours, and he did not like to take it with him. He wanted to leave it in
my keeping, as he knew that I intended passing the evening in my rooms,
and as he was not afraid to trust me with so large a sum.
"I took the bait, and the money, three rouleaux of gold; and then, after
I had listened to his regrets at his inability to make one at our social
game that evening, I bowed him out and locked the door.
"As I opened my trunk and secreted the money in the very bottom,
underneath a pile of clothing and books, I was swelling with gratified
vanity, blind fool that I was, at the thought of the trust imparted to
me. Did it not signify the high value placed upon my shrewdness and
integrity by this discriminating man of business?
"Presently Brooks and Blaikie came, and we sat down to cards and wine.
Blaikie had brought with him some bottles of a choice brand, and it had
an unusual effect upon me.
"My recollections of that evening are very indistinct. I won some gold
pieces from Brooks, and jingled them triumphantly in my pockets, while
Blaikie refilled my glass. After that my remembrance is blurred and then
blank.
"I do not think that I drank as much wine as usual, for when I awoke it
was not from the sleep of intoxication. I was languid, and my head
ached, but my brain was not clouded. My memory served me well. I
remembered, first of all, my new business enterprise, and then recalled
the events of the previous evening, up to the time of my drinking a
second glass of wine.
"I was lying upon my bed, dressed, as I had been when I sat down to play
cards with Brooks and Blaikie. I strove to remember how I came there on
the bed, but could not; then I got up and looked about the room.
"Our card table stood there with the cards scattered over it. On the
floor was an empty wine-bottle--where was the other, for Blaikie had
brought two? On a side table sat _two_ wine-glasses, each containing a
few drops of wine, and a third which was _clean_, as if it had been
unused.
"Two chairs stood near the table, as if lately occupied by players.
"What did it mean?
"I stepped to the door and found that it had not been locked. Then I
thought of my money. It was gone, of course. But I still had in my
pockets the loose gold won at our first game, and the three rouleaux
left by Lowenstein were still in my trunk. I had also won from Brooks
two or three bank notes, and these also I had.
"You can easily guess the rest. The three sharpers had planned to
secure my money, and had succeeded; and to protect themselves, and get
me comfortably out of the way, they had laid the trap into which I fell.
"Blaikie appeared at the police station, and entered his complaint. He
had been invited to join in a social game of cards at my rooms. When he
arrived there, Brooks was there, seemingly on business, but he had
remained but a short time. Then we had played cards, and Blaikie had
lost some bank-notes. Next he won, and I had paid him in gold pieces. He
had then staked his diamond studs, as he had very little money about
him. These I had won, and next had permitted him to win a few more gold
pieces. Blaikie did not accuse me of cheating, oh, no; but he had just
found that I had won his diamonds and his honest money, and had paid him
in _counterfeit coin_.
"At that time, Blaikie had not become so prominent a rogue as he now is.
His story was credited, and, while I was yet frantically searching for
my lost money, the police swooped down upon me, and I was arrested for
having circulated counterfeit money. The scattered cards, the two
wine-glasses, the two chairs, all substantiated Blaikie's story.
"A search through my room brought to light Blaikie's diamonds, and some
plates for engraving counterfeit ten dollar bills, hidden in the same
receptacle. In my trunk were the three rouleaux of freshly-coined
counterfeit gold pieces, and in my pockets were some more loose
counterfeit coin, together with the bank-notes which Blaikie had
described to the Captain of police.
"It was a cunning plot, and it succeeded. I fought for my liberty as
only a desperate man will. I told my story. I accused Blaikie and his
associates of having robbed me. I proved, by my bankers, that a large
sum of money had actually come into my possession only the day before my
arrest. But the web held me. Brooks corroborated Blaikie's statements;
Lowenstein could not be found.
"I was tried, found guilty, and condemned for four years to State's
prison. A light sentence, the judge pronounced it, but those four years
put streaks of gray in my hair and changed me wonderfully, physically
and mentally.
"I had gone in a tall, straight young fellow, with beardless face and
fresh color; I came out a grave man, with stooping shoulders, sallow
skin, and hair streaked with gray.
"My mother had died during my imprisonment; my promised wife had married
another man. I sold my farm and went again to the city; this time with a
fixed purpose in my heart. I would find my enemies and revenge myself.
"I let my beard grow, I dropped all habits of correct speaking, I became
a slouching, shabbily-dressed loafer. I had no reason to fear
recognition,--the change in me was complete."
He paused, and seemed lost in gloomy meditations, then resumed:
"It was more than three months before I struck the trail of the gang,
and then one day I saw Brooks on the street, followed him, and tracked
him to Trafton. He had just purchased the 'Brookhouse farm' and I
learned for the first time that he had a wife and family. I found that
Lowenstein, too, had settled in Trafton, having been arrested, and
escaped during my long imprisonment; and I decided to remain also. I had
learned, during my farm life, something about farriery, and introduced
myself as a traveling horse doctor, with a fancy for 'settling' in a
good location. And so I became the Jim Long you have known.
"I knew that the presence of ''Squire Brookhouse' and 'Captain Manvers,
late of the navy,' boded no good to Trafton; I knew, too, that
Lowenstein was an escaped convict, and I might have given him up at
once; but that would have betrayed my identity, and Brooks might then
escape me. So I waited, but not long.
"One day 'Captain Manvers,' in his seaman's make-up, actually ventured
to visit the city. He had so changed his appearance that, but for my
interference, he might have been safe enough. But my time had come. I
sent a telegram to the chief of police, telling him that Jake Lowenstein
was coming to the city, describing his make-up, and giving the time and
train. I walked to the next station to send the message, waited to have
it verified, and walked back content.
"When Jake Lowenstein arrived in the city, he was followed, and in
attempting to resist the officers, he was killed.
"Since that time, I have tried, and tried vainly, to unravel the mystery
surrounding these robberies. Of course, I knew Brooks and his gang to be
the guilty parties, but I was only one man. I could not be everywhere at
once, and I could never gather sufficient evidence to insure their
conviction, because, like all the rest of Trafton, I never thought of
finding the stolen horses in the very midst of the town. I assisted in
organizing the vigilants, but we all watched the roads leading out from
the town, and were astounded at our constant failures.
"And now you know why I hailed your advent in Trafton. For four years I
have hoped for the coming of a detective. I would have employed one on
my own account, but I shrank from betraying my identity, as I must do in
order to secure confidence. In every stranger who came to Trafton I have
hoped to find a detective. At first I thought Bethel to be one, and I
was not slow in making his acquaintance. I watched him, I weighed his
words, and, finally, gave him up.
"When you came I made your acquaintance, as I did that of every
stranger who tarried long in Trafton. You were discreetness itself, and
the man you called Barney was a capital actor, and a rare good fellow
too. But I studied you as no other man did. When I answered your
careless questions I calculated your possible meaning. Do you remember a
conversation of ours when I gave my opinion of Dr. Bethel, and the
'average Traftonite'?"
"Yes; and also told us about Miss Manvers and the treasure-ship. Those
bits of gossip gave us some pointers."
"I meant that they should. And now you know why I preferred to hang on
the heels of Joe Blaikie rather than go with the vigilants."
"I understand. Has Blaikie been a member of the gang from the first?"
"I think not. Of course when I heard that Brooks intended to employ a
detective, I was on the alert. And when Joe Blaikie and that other
fellow, who was a stranger to me, came and established themselves at the
Trafton House, I understood the game. They were to personate detectives.
Brooks was too cunning to make their pretended occupations too
conspicuous; but he confided the secret to a few good citizens who might
have grown uneasy, and asked troublesome questions, if they had not been
thus confided in. I think that Blaikie and Brooks went their separate
ways, when the latter became a country gentleman. Blaikie is too
cowardly a cur ever to succeed as a horse-thief, and Brooks was the man
to recognize that fact. I think Blaikie was simply a tool for this
emergency."
"Very probable. When you told my landlord that Blaikie was a detective,
did you expect the news to reach me through him?"
"I did," with a quizzical glance at me; "and it reached you, I take it."
"Yes; it reached me. And now, Long--it seems most natural to call you
so--I will make no comments upon your story now. I think you are assured
of my friendship and sympathy. I can act better than I can talk. But be
sure of one thing, from henceforth you stand clear of all charges
against you. The man who shot Dr. Bethel is now in limbo, and he will
confess the whole plot on the witness stand; and, as for the old
trouble, Joe Blaikie shall tell the truth concerning that."
He lifts his head and looks at me steadfastly for a moment.
"When that is accomplished," he says, earnestly, "I shall feel myself
once more a man among men."