"'Thou shalt not steal,' the Law declares, and the sinner must pay
the price,
For the world abhors the petty thief who falls to the common vice,
But the rich and the good and the powerful may steal--if they do it
well--
And the world sends them to heaven, but it sends the poor--to hell!"
_The Empire Builders._
The absence of Miss Vane from church on the Sunday reported in our last
chapter was noted by every member of the congregation. None of the
Grants were in, which deepened the mystery, and although he might have
telephoned the Grant homestead and learned the cause of her absence, it
occurred to Gardiner that his horse needed exercise, and he drove out
early in the afternoon to investigate the situation for himself. He
trusted that Miss Vane was not ill, and he anticipated with some
pleasure an invitation to remain to tea. As a matter of fact the
invitation was given, but Gardiner did not remain. The discovery that
Miss Vane had gone to spend the day, the whole day, with Burton in the
woods, and alone; that she had ignored her official position in the
choir to do so, and, most of all, that she had given him no hint or
inkling of her intention, was, to say the least, disconcerting. He had
been surprised to find her walking with his clerk on the country road,
and after dark, but the explanation he had afterwards learned had
quieted his mind on that score, and he felt that his suit, although as
yet he had not announced it as such, was progressing favourably. It
seemed preposterous that he and his clerk should be rivals for the
affection of the same woman, but still more amazing that the clerk's
rivalry should be encouraged. Burton was but a boy, only twenty-one,
with no experience of life save what he had learned on his father's
farm, and without means of support except the twelve dollars a week he
drew from his employer. It was true that Burton was one of those quiet,
thoughtful fellows who are seldom sought by ladies for flirtations, but
are always in demand as husbands; it was true that Burton's book
learning far exceeded his own, that the young man read poetry while he
might be playing pool, and could quote the masters by the page, but that
was a sign of weakness rather than strength. But as for Gardiner, he
reflected with some satisfaction that he too was still a young man, just
thirty-two, and therefore a much more desirable age for the
consideration of Miss Vane, who could not be less than twenty-three; he
had an established business and an ample income, judged by the standards
of a country town; he was in appearance not the inferior of Burton, and
he fancied that his popularity among his acquaintances was at least as
great. After all, Burton was nothing but what he had made him; he had
opened up this life before the young man, and he could also close it; on
a week's notice even the slender support of twelve dollars could be
withdrawn. The thought afforded a ray of pleasure, but it was for the
moment only; his own good sense told him that from a business point of
view he could not afford to do without his clerk, whom he considered
better than many much higher-paid salesmen; moreover, he had little
doubt that a rival firm would be very glad to find a position for
Burton, probably at an advance of salary.
Taking the question in all its aspects it was one that demanded deep
consideration, and Gardiner spent the afternoon by himself.
In addition to the duties of the general store, Gardiner had the
business and responsibilities of cashing wheat tickets for one of the
grain companies operating elevators in Plainville. This is a branch of
trade usually left with the banks, but as these institutions at
Plainville had seen fit to impose a small charge for their services, the
grain firms, in their anxiety to avoid bankruptcy, had arranged with
different merchants to do the work gratis. Although Gardiner received no
pay directly for his work in this connection, it was considered some
advantage to do the business. The company at Winnipeg was notified by
wire or mail as money was needed, and the desired currency came promptly
by express. When the wheat season was at its height the amount sent was
often as high as five thousand dollars at a time, and this comfortable
sum frequently happened, about the fourth of the month, to be a godsend
to the merchant who did not have to account for it until the end of the
week. Moreover, as farmers had to come into the store to cash their
tickets, the merchants knew when they had a considerable sum of money in
their possession, and could force sales accordingly; or, if the customer
was slow to pay, and already in debt, an excellent opportunity was
afforded for collecting the account. Taking these things into
consideration Gardiner felt that the benefits derived from cashing wheat
tickets were sufficient to justify him in undertaking the responsibility
and labour the service entailed.
During the summer deliveries of wheat are usually slow, but farmers
frequently over-estimate the amount they will require for seed, and the
wealthier ones also make a point of carrying some of their wheat in
their granaries until summer to take advantage of the artificial prices
which are invariably effected by speculative manipulating after the
cereal is supposed to have passed out of the hands of the producers. As
seeding was now finished deliveries were freshening, and a package of
"wheat money" containing two thousand dollars in ten dollar bank bills
had been received on Saturday evening by express and, the banks being
closed, was left in Gardiner's safe over Sunday.
Monday morning, although the unpleasant event of the previous night
seemed to Burton more than ever to be an unreal remembrance, he resolved
to carry out his intention. He knew that the action was one his father
would hardly commend; his father had old-fashioned Ontario ideas about
carrying revolvers; but the situation was unusual, and he felt justified
in taking such measures as he could for his own protection. Accordingly,
on his way to the store he stopped at a hardware, and spent some time
selecting a modest weapon which he felt could be depended upon in case
of emergency. He pretended to the clerk that he wanted to try his
marksmanship on the gophers; secured a box of cartridges, and put the
loaded weapon in his pocket.
As he neared Gardiner's store he felt in his pockets for his keys. They
were gone! He hesitated a moment, and recalled having used them the
night before; then, seeing the door was opened, he entered.
Gardiner was in the office at the back of the store.
"Burton, come here, please," he called. His voice seemed strained and
hollow, and as Burton's eyes accustomed themselves to the store's
comparative darkness after the bright light outside, he saw that his
employer's face was as colourless as death.
"Why, what is the matter? Are you unwell?" cried Burton in alarm.
Gardiner steadied himself against a chair, and after one or two attempts
to speak whispered hoarsely, "The package is gone."
"Gone!" cried Burton, and would have walked to the safe, but Gardiner
stopped him.
"Just a minute," he said, having somewhat recovered his composure; "I
want to ask you a question or two."
Burton stopped and faced his employer unflinchingly.
"Have you missed anything this morning?"
"Why, no."
"Think again."
Burton hesitated. "Oh, yes," he said at length, "I did. When I came to
the door I couldn't find my keys."
"Do you identify those?" asked Gardiner, holding up a ring having
several keys attached.
"They are mine. Where did you get them?"
"_In the safe!_"
"Impossible!"
"Unfortunately not. They hung in the lock of the cash compartment.
Burton, whoever took that money used those keys!"
The young man looked at his employer as though his eyes would pierce him
through. "Gardiner," he said, in a hard, cold voice that seemed to be
coming from the depths of some terrible emotion, "do you accuse me of
this?"
It was the first time he had ever omitted the mister in addressing his
employer. He was speaking now as man to man.
"No," said Gardiner. "I accuse you of nothing. Even if I had the
positive evidence before my eyes I could not believe you guilty. But the
situation is baffling, and I am afraid--I am afraid suspicion will be
directed toward you. Let me give you the facts as I have found them and
as I, of course, will be obliged to report them to the police. When I
came down to the store this morning my first thought was for that
package. I came at once to the safe. Before it were lying a number of
half-burnt matches. This aroused my fears, and I tried the door. It was
locked. I operated the combination, and it opened. Inside, this bunch of
keys hung in the lock, but the cash drawer was locked. I turned the key
and opened it. The package was gone. Nothing else was disturbed, but
another burnt match lay in the cash box. Whoever opened that safe knew
the combination. Whoever opened that safe had the key of the cash
drawer. Burton, you and I are the only men in God's world who know that
combination and have the keys."
Burton listened to this recital with growing dismay. If he had
deliberately set about to put his feet in a trap he did not see how he
could have done it more effectively. He realised the great weight of
circumstantial evidence that was piling up against him, and in his heart
he felt that Gardiner was not to be blamed for his suspicions. The
incident of the smashing beer bottle again flew through his memory,
recalling also his fancy that he heard a stealthy step, but what would
such trifling and unsupported tales as these avail?
"At least I can explain about the keys," he said at last. "I came into
the store as I was going home last night about midnight, and I opened
the safe----"
"You admit you were in the safe last night!" shouted Gardiner, in a
passion of excitement.
"No, I do not admit it; I declare it. If you are determined to condemn
me unheard, on the strength of evidence which is at best only
circumstantial, I have nothing more to say. I suppose it is unnecessary
for me to go through the formality of tendering my resignation?"
"Do not take that view of it. The shock has unnerved me and excited you;
we must not do anything hastily. Notwithstanding the evidence, I believe
in your innocence. To prove that I mean what I say, I will add that your
resignation is not demanded, and, if tendered, will not be accepted. I
shall, as you know, be obliged to report the facts as I have found them,
but something new may develop, and in the meantime I ask you to go on
with your work in the store as if nothing had happened. Furthermore, I
apologise to you for my momentary distrust. I--I was rather upset, you
know."
Burton stood for a few moments undecided. A great darkness had arisen
out of his cloudless sky of yesterday. For the present, at least, there
seemed no course but to continue his service in the store, and trust
that time would reveal the true solution of the robbery.
"It is very decent of you, Mr. Gardiner, to speak as you have. And as,
if I were to leave your employ under the present circumstances, it might
be construed unjustly toward both of us, I shall remain."
The news of the theft from Gardiner's safe quickly spread through the
little town of Plainville. The first impulse of the citizens was to
attribute the crime to bad men from "the other side," who had chosen
Saturday night for the theft, trusting to their thirty-six hours' start
to place them at a safe distance from the scene of their operations. But
as it became known that no violence had been used, that the safe had
been opened and re-locked, and that the contents and location of the
package were secrets known to only Gardiner and Burton, the wise ones
shook their heads and murmured something about the folly of placing
young men in positions of great temptation. And when it leaked out that
Burton's keys had been found in the safe the street-corner clubs located
the criminal without further difficulty.
The Attorney-General's department was at once communicated with, and the
local constable, Bill Hagan, was instructed to take preliminary steps
pending the arrival of an officer from the city. Hagan was a harmless
but inefficient individual, whose chief qualifications for his position
lay in his ability to avoid trouble and vote right at election time. He
made a minute examination of the safe, and announced that he had
discovered a clue. Great excitement prevailed as to the nature of the
discovery, but Bill's lips were sealed. Previous attacks of this nature
had been relieved by means of liberal applications of stimulants, and
presently the constable found himself the centre of a circle of
depositors who instituted a run on their favourite bank--the hotel bar.
This unsealed Bill's lips, but only for entrance; so far from revealing
his discovery he presently forgot all about it, and his convivial
friends were left with a haunting suspicion that the clue had been a
ruse which had accomplished its purpose.
The following day, however, the officer from the city appeared on the
scene. He was a man of large stature and swarthy appearance, but with an
excessive colouring of his facial eminence which indicated that he too
was a regular patron of the financial institution which absorbed most of
Bill Hagan's income. Officer Elton, after a conference with his
subordinate, visited Gardiner's store, and heard from the lips of the
merchant a detailed account of such facts as had come to light
concerning the crime.
Burton was waiting on a lady customer while his employer and the two
policemen discussed the affair in the office; presently they came out,
and Elton, indicating Burton, said in a voice that could be heard
through the store--
"So this is the young man you speak of, who alone beside yourself knows
the combination of the safe? Well, my young friend, you've got yourself
into a fine mess this time."
Burton flushed. His father's shanty-man blood surged in his veins.
"If you are here to solve this mystery, go ahead and unearth the facts,
and no one will welcome the truth more than I; but if you are come to
throw insults at innocent people, I would enjoy your company for about
two minutes on the street."
"Not so fast, not so fast, my young blood," said Elton. "It would be
more to the point if you made a clear breast of this matter. Just hand
over that money intact and I have no doubt your employer will be
disposed to take a lenient view of the case, and it need not come before
the courts at all. I think I can promise you that much. I have some
influence with the department," he added, pompously, looking about on
the crowd of curiosity seekers who had gathered in the store.
"I have nothing to confess," said Burton, hotly. "I know nothing,
absolutely nothing, of what became of that package."
"You'll have a job making a jury believe that, and if you turn down the
fair offer I made you, I will just place you under arrest."
"By whose authority?"
"By whose authority? By MY authority!"
"Your authority carries no weight with me," said Burton. "It may be as
fictitious as the courtesy of the police."
"Well then, look at that," said Elton, leaning forward and exposing a
police button.
"That proves nothing. You may have stolen it. Produce your papers."
Burton's anger had risen to a pitch where, although he appeared
outwardly calm, every fibre of his being was charged with wild, rioting
emotion. The disgrace of suspicion was keen enough, but the crude,
brutal manner of the arrest, and Elton's apparent delight in the
humiliation he was inflicting, were unbearable. He rightly guessed that
the officer had no warrant, but was trying to carry matters with a high
hand to impress his personal importance on the simple country folk about
him, and he determined that the glory should not be all on one side.
"You say I stole it!" cried Elton, white with rage. "I'll put you in
irons for this."
Burton stood behind the grocery counter, a short counter, about ten feet
long. The store was now filled with excited onlookers, who, however,
kept a little distance from the storm centre.
"Come out from behind that counter!" thundered Elton.
"Come in and bring me out," challenged Burton. "The people want to see
you do it."
This direct appeal to Elton's weakness for self-aggrandisement decided
the officer.
"Hagan, go in at that end," he commanded, with the air of a general
mustering his legions. "We'll show this young blackleg where he gets
off."
Hagan, with some trepidation, entered the passage behind the counter and
the grocery shelves at one end; Elton forced his way in at the other.
Taking in the situation at a glance, Burton caught up a weight off the
scales and threw it at the head of the hesitating Hagan; that gentleman,
in his eagerness to avoid the missile, slipped on the oily floor and
sprawled behind the counter. Burton turned his attention to Elton, who
was now upon him; he feinted a blow at the officer's face, which caused
him to throw up his guard, but instead of striking he seized his
adversary by the collar and administered a quick jerk forward which
landed the policeman full-length flat on the hapless Hagan. A roar of
delight greeted Burton's achievement, for, despite the weight of
circumstantial evidence, many of the townspeople, and especially the
young men, believed him innocent; and all were delighted to see this
indignity heaped upon a bombastic bully who on several previous
occasions had rendered himself obnoxious to the people of Plainville by
his brutal arrogance. The weight of the law lay heavily upon Hagan, but
the onlookers showed no disposition to lighten the burden, and the two
men were left to extricate themselves from their narrow quarters as best
they could. Elton, being on top, was first to get free, and as he
emerged from behind the counter a great cheer broke from the lips of the
now thoroughly delighted spectators. But if Elton was angry before, the
jeers and laughter, with the knowledge that his dignity had suffered an
irreparable collapse, filled him with maniacal fury. Seeing Burton
standing in the middle of the floor he rushed toward him with a roar of
imprecations, and the crowd quickly shifted to allow room for action.
But in his rage Elton failed to benefit from the lesson he had so
recently experienced; he guarded his face from the threatened blow, only
to be again seized by the collar and flung headlong on the floor with a
violence that left him momentarily stunned. He rose slowly, but the
shock had sobered him; he waited until his half-dazed eyes had properly
located Burton; then, with the quickness of a cat he threw his hand to
his hip and covered the lad with a revolver. Then, for the first time,
came to Burton the realization that he too was armed; but while he
feared no man with Nature's weapons he was no expert with pistols, and
he had sense enough to realise that a fight under such conditions would
be suicide. Elton advanced slowly, gloating over the revenge that was
now within his grasp, but suddenly his feet shot from under him and he
again collapsed on the floor, the revolver flying from his grasp as he
fell. Two great hands closed about his throat; his nerveless jaw fell
against the puffy wrinkles of his neck, and when he looked up it was
into the face of old Dick Matheson, who had wandered in to see the cause
of the excitement. Few who knew the mild-mannered farmer deemed him
capable of such anger, nor of the vivid flow of sulphuric adjectives
which he poured upon the now thoroughly cowed officer.
"Start a rough-house in Plainville, would you? Pull a revolver on this
boy? Show these people how much of a fool can sometimes buy himself into
a government salary? You, an officer of the law, attempting an unlawful
act, and thoroughly trounced by a boy for doing it." He emphasized every
sentence with a vicious shake of the helpless head. "Burton would have
submitted in a minute to a properly qualified officer. But for you--bah!
You are an insult to every honest officer, a stench in the nostrils of
Plainville, and if you are within the boundaries of this town in thirty
minutes the vigilance committee will call on you." So saying he started
to drag his prisoner to the door; willing hands crowded around with
assistance, and this victim of a little brief authority was dumped
unceremoniously into the street.
Elton gathered himself up and without a word started to walk to the
railway station. "Now, get!" was Old Dick's last advice to him. Then
turning to the crowd the farmer explained it all, half-apologetically,
with the remark, "You see, I knew his father on the Muddywaski."