Hector's Inheritance, Or, the Boys of Smith Institute, Jr. Horatio Alger [best electronic book reader TXT] 📗

“No, Mr. Smith, I do not mean Hector Roscoe. I have as much confidence in Roscoe as myself.”

“So have I,” sneered Socrates.

“And I know he would not take any money that did not belong to him. I mean a very different person—your nephew, James Smith.”

Socrates Smith frowned with anger. “There seems to be a conspiracy against my unfortunate nephew,” he said. “I don’t believe a word of your mean insinuations, and I am not deceived by your attempt to throw your own criminality upon him. It will not injure him in my eyes. Moreover, I shall be able to trace back the theft to the wrongdoer. The missing bill was marked with a cross upon the back, and should either of you attempt to pass it, your guilt will be made manifest. I advise you to restore it to me while there is yet time.”

“The bill was marked?” asked Wilkins, eagerly.

“Yes.”

“Then, sir, you may have a chance to find out who took it.”

“The discovery might not please you,” said Socrates, with a sneer.

“It would give me the greatest pleasure, Mr. Smith. If I can in any way help you discover the missing note, I will do so.”

“You can go,” said Socrates, abruptly.

When the two boys had left the presence of the principal, Ben Platt, said, “What are you going to do about it, Wilkins?”

“First of all,” answered Wilkins, promptly, “I am going to find out if Jim took that money.”

“How can you find out?”

“Did you notice that he had come out with a new ring?”

“No, I didn’t observe it.”

“He has bought it since that money was lost!” said Wilkins, significantly.

“Do you think he purchased it with the missing bill?”

“I wouldn’t wonder at all. At any rate, I am going to find out. He must have bought it from Washburn, the jeweler. Will you go with me, and ask?”

“Yes,” answered Ben, eagerly. “Let us go alone. If we can only prove the theft upon Jim, so that old Sock can’t help believing that he stole the money, we shall be cleared; though, as to that, there isn’t a scholar in school who would believe the charge against us.”

“Still, we may as well do what we can to bring the guilt home to Jim Smith.”

Ten minutes later the two boys entered the shop of Mr. Washburn.

“Will you show me some rings, Mr. Washburn?” asked Wilkins.

“Certainly,” answered the jeweler, politely.

“What is the price of that?” asked Wilkins, pointing to one exactly like the one he had seen on Jim’s finger.

“Three dollars and a half. It is a very pretty pattern.”

“Yes, sir. There’s one of our boys who has one just like it.”

“You mean James Smith, the principal’s nephew.”

“Yes, sir.”

“He bought it of me yesterday.”

The two boys exchanged a quick glance.

They felt that they were on the brink of a discovery.

“Did he give you a five-dollar bill in payment?” asked Ben Platt.

“Yes,” answered the jeweler, in surprise.

“Could you identify that bill?”

“What are you driving at, boys?” asked Mr. Washburn, keenly.

“I will explain to you if you will answer my questions first.”

“Yes, I could identify the bill.”

“Have you it in your possession still?”

“I have.”

“How will you know it?”

“It seems to me, my boy, you are in training for a lawyer.”

“I have a very urgent reason for asking you this question, Mr. Washburn.”

“Then I will answer you. When the note was given me, I noticed that it was on the Park Bank of New York.”

“Will you be kind enough to see if you can find it?”’

“Certainly.”

The jeweler opened his money drawer, and after a brief search, produced the bill in question.

It was a five-dollar bill on the Park Bank of New York, as he had already told the boys.

“Now, Mr. Washburn,” asked Wilkins, trying to repress his excitement, “will you examine the back of the bill, and see if there is any mark on it.”

The jeweler did as requested, and announced, after slight examination, that there was a cross on the back of the bill in the upper right hand corner.

“Hurrah!” shouted Ben, impulsively.

To the wondering jeweler he explained his precise object in the inquiry he had made, and the boys were complimented by Mr. Washburn for their shrewdness.

“If I ever meet with a loss, I shall certainly call on you for assistance, boys,” he said.

“Thank you, Mr. Washburn,” answered Wilkins, “but I do not expect to be here to be called upon.”

“You are not going to leave the institute, are you?”

“I shall write to my father in what manner I have been treated, and let him understand how the principal manages the school, and I feel sure he will withdraw me.”

“Ditto for me!” said Ben Platt. “Old Sock’s partiality for his nephew has been carried too far, and now that the only decent teacher is going—Mr. Crabb—I don’t mean, to stay here if I can help it.”

The boys, upon their return to the school, sought out the principal.

“Well, boys,” he said, “have you come to confess?”

“No, sir,” answered Ben, “but we have come to give you some information about your money.”

“I was sure you knew something about it,” said Socrates, with a sneer. “I am glad you have decided to make a clean breast of it.”

“You are mistaken, sir.”

“Well, out with your information!” said the principal, roughly.

“A five-dollar bill, marked as you have described, was paid to Mr. Washburn, the jeweler, only yesterday.”