MR. CAMPBELL RECEIVES TIDINGS OF HIS WARD.
"It is strange we can't find Florence," said Orton Campbell to his
father one morning some months after the young lady's departure. "Is
there no clue?"
"The detective I have employed has failed to trace her."
"Has he no theory?"
"He suggests that she may have gone to Europe," said Mr. Campbell, "but
I am not of that opinion."
"What do you think, then?"
"I suspect she has buried herself in some obscure country place under
some assumed name, there to remain till she has attained her
twenty-fifth year, when my guardianship ceases."
"When will that be?"
"Six months hence."
"It is very important, then, that we should find her before that time,"
said Orton Campbell, thoughtfully.
"That is true. After the time referred to my power ceases, and I shall
be unable to assist you in your plans."
"Her fortune amounts to one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, does it
not?"
"More than that. The interest has been accumulating till it amounts to
nearer one hundred and seventy thousand dollars."
Orton Campbell's eyes sparkled with covetous greed.
"That is a stake worth playing for," he said. "With what I have of my
own, it would make me independently rich."
"Just so, Orton," said his father.
"And nothing stands in the way but the caprice of a foolish girl! I
declare, father, it is too exasperating. Suppose we try another
detective? Your man can't be very sharp."
"I have no objection, Orton," said the merchant, "but as he would be
employed in your interest, it is only fair that you should pay the
expense incurred."
"I don't see that," said the son. "She is your ward, you know. It ought
to come out of her property."
"The item may not be allowed. In that case I should be responsible,"
said John Campbell, cautiously.
"I'll tell you what I will do, father: if she is found and I marry her,
I'll freely pay the whole expense."
"Suppose we find her, and she won't marry you: what then?" asked his
father, keenly.
The son looked nonplussed, but finally consented in that case to defray
the expense out of his private means--that is, if it could not be taken
out of the young lady's fortune.
The matter having been satisfactorily adjusted, they were discussing the
choice of a detective when a clerk came to the door of the private
counting-room in which father and son were seated and said, "There's a
man outside wants to speak to you, Mr. Campbell."
"Who is he, Saunders?"
"I think it's Jones, who used to be in your employ as light porter."
"How does he look? Well-to-do?"
"He is decidedly shabby," answered Saunders.
"Come to ask help, probably," muttered the merchant. "I think I won't
see him."
Saunders left the office, but presently returned.
"Well, has he gone?" asked the merchant.
"No; he says he wants to see you on business of importance."
"Of importance to himself, probably.--Shall I see him, Orton?"
"Yes, father. If he is humbugging us, we can send him off."
So permission was given, and almost immediately Saunders ushered into
the room a short, broad-shouldered fellow, who looked very much like a
professional tramp.
"Good-morning, Mr. Campbell," said he, deferentially.
"Humph, Jones, is it you? You don't look as if you had prospered."
"No more I have, sir."
"Don't come near me. Really, your appearance is very disreputable."
"I can't help that, sir. I've just come from California in the steerage,
and you can't keep very neat there."
"I believe you went to California to make your fortune, didn't you,
Jones?" said Orton Campbell, with a cynical smile.
"Yes, Mr. Orton, I did."
"And you didn't make it, I infer from your appearance."
"I haven't got much money about me now," said Jones, with a shrug and a
smile.
"You would have done better not to have left my employment, Jones," said
the merchant. "You wanted higher pay, I believe, and as I wouldn't give
it, you decided that you could better yourself at the mines."
"That is about so, sir."
"Well, and what luck did you have?"
"Good luck at first, sir. I made a thousand dollars at the mines in a
few months."
"Indeed!" said Orton, in surprise.
"I came with it to San Francisco, and gambled it away in one night. Then
I was on my beam-ends, as the sailors say."
"Did you go back?"
"No. I went to work in the city, and managed to get enough money to buy
a steerage passage, and here I am."
"I suppose you have come to ask me to take you back into my employ?
That, I take it, is your business with me."
"No, sir--not exactly."
"Then, what is it?" asked the merchant, looking a little puzzled. It
crossed his mind that Jones might so far have forgotten his rule never
to give away money for any purpose as to suppose there was a chance to
effect a loan.
"I thought you and Mr. Orton might be willing to pay my expenses back to
San Francisco," said Jones, coolly.
"Are you out of your head, Jones?" demanded Orton Campbell, amazed at
the man's effrontery.
"Not at all."
"If this is meant as a joke, Jones," said the merchant in a dignified
tone, "it is a very poor--and, I may add, a very impudent--one. What
possible claim have you on us, that you should expect such a favor?"
"Have you heard anything of your ward, Mr. Campbell?" asked Jones, not
in the least abashed.
"No. What has my ward to do with your concerns?"
"I have seen her," answered Jones, briefly.
"Where?" asked John Campbell and his son simultaneously.
"That information belongs to me," said Jones, quietly. "A detective
doesn't work without pay."
The two Campbells now began to see the point. This man had information
to sell, and would not give it up without what he considered suitable
compensation. They determined to drive the best possible bargain with
him. He was poor, and probably could be bought over for a small sum.
"Your information is worth something, Jones," said the merchant,
guardedly. "I will go so far as to give you twenty-five dollars cash for
it."
"That won't do," said Jones, shaking his head.
"Your information may be worth nothing," said Orton. "You may have seen
her, but that doesn't show where she is now."
"I know where she is now," said Jones.
"Is she in California?"
"I don't mind telling you as much as that, Mr. Orton."
"Then we can find her without your assistance."
"I don't think you can. At any rate, it will take time, especially as,
if you don't make a bargain with me, I shall write her that you are on
her track."
Father and son looked at each other.
It was evident that Jones was no fool, and they would be obliged to
submit to his terms or give up the search, which was not to be thought
of.
"What do you propose, Jones?" asked Mr. Campbell, a little less
haughtily.
"That you pay my expenses back to California and one thousand dollars,"
said Jones, promptly. "If you or Mr. Orton will go with me, I will show
you where she lives, and then you can take your own course."
This was finally agreed to, and Orton Campbell and the ex-porter sailed
by the next steamer for San Francisco, where Florence Douglas, still
boarding with Mrs. Armstrong, was waiting impatiently for news of
Richard Dewey.