The Store Boy, Jr. Horatio Alger [best fiction books to read .txt] 📗
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
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"My Conrad always treats the other boy well, out of common politeness, but I don't think he likes him very well."
"Is your son in any situation?"
"He is now."
"Was he at the time this Benjamin was engaged by Mrs. Hamilton?"
"No."
"Rather singular that she did not employ your son, instead of seeking out a stranger, isn't it?"
"Now that you mention it, I confess that I did feel hurt at the slight to my boy. However, I don't wish to interfere with Cousin Hamilton, or obtrude my son upon her."
"Strong jealousy there!" thought the detective.
"So you think this Ben Barclay may have taken the glass?" he said inquiringly.
"I do. Since he visits gambling houses, he doubtless squanders money, and can find a market for more than he can honestly earn."
"As you say, gambling often leads to dishonesty. Does Mrs. Hamilton know that her protege visited a gambling house?"
"Yes."
"Mentioned it to him, I suppose?"
"Yes."
"Of course, he denied it?"
"No; he admitted it, but said he received a letter from a stranger appointing to meet him there. It is rather curious that he couldn't show the letter, however. He pretended he had lost it."
"Did Mrs. Hamilton believe him?"
"I don't know. I think not, for, though she has not discharged him, she treats him very coldly."
"Have you any further information to give me?"
"No. I hope this will be of some service to you."
"I think it will. Thank you, and good-afternoon."
"There! I've prejudiced him against Ben," said Mrs. Hill to herself, with a satisfied smile. "These detectives are glad of a hint, sharp as they think themselves. If he finds out that it is Ben, he will take all the credit to himself, and never mention me in the matter. However, that is just what I wish. It is important that I should not appear too active in getting the boy into trouble, or I may be thought to be influenced by interested motives, though, Heaven knows, I only want justice for myself and my boy. The sooner we get this boy out of the house, the better it will be for us."
As Mr. Lynx left the house, he smiled to himself.
"That woman and her son hate Ben Barclay, that much is certain, and look upon him as an interloper and a rival. I rather sympathize with the poor fellow. I should be sorry to find him guilty, but I shall not stop short till I have ferreted out the truth."
CHAPTER XXVII — THE TELLTALE TICKET
Conrad still had the pawnbroker's ticket which he had received in return for the opera glasses, and did not quite know what to do with it. He didn't intend to redeem the glass, and if found in his possession, it would bring him under suspicion. Now that a detective had the matter in charge, it occurred to him that it would be well to have the ticket found in Ben's room.
The two had rooms upon the same floor, and it would, therefore, be easy to slip into Ben's chamber and leave it somewhere about.
Now, it chanced that Susan, the chambermaid, was about, though Conrad did not see her, when he carried out his purpose, and, instigated by curiosity, she peeped through the half-open door, and saw him place the ticket on the bureau.
Wondering what it was, she entered the room after Conrad had vacated it, and found the ticket Conrad had placed there.
Susan knew what a pawnbroker's ticket was, and read it with curiosity.
She saw that it was made out to Ben Barclay.
"How, then, did Master Conrad get hold of it?" she said to herself. "It's my belief he's trying to get Master Ben into trouble. It's a shame, it is, for Master Ben is a gentleman and he isn't."
Between the two boys, Susan favored Ben, who always treated her with consideration, while Conrad liked to order about the servants, as if they were made to wait upon him.
After Conrad had disposed of the pawn ticket, he said carelessly to his mother:
"Mother, if I were you, I'd look into Ben's room. You might find the opera glass there."
"I don't think he'd leave it there. He would pawn it."
"Then you might find the ticket somewhere about."
Upon this hint, Mrs. Hill went up to Ben's room, and there, upon the bureau, she naturally found the ticket.
"I thought so," she said to herself. "Conrad was right. The boy is a thief. Here is the ticket made out to him by name. Well, well, he's brazen enough, in all conscience. Now shall I show it to Cousin Hamilton at once, or shall I wait until the detective has reported?"
On the whole, Mrs. Hill decided to wait. She could delay with safety, for she had proof which would utterly crush and confound the hated interloper.
Meanwhile, the detective pursued his investigations. Of course, he visited Simpson's, and there he learned that the opera glass, which he readily recognized from the description, had been brought there a few days previous.
"Who brought it?" he asked.
"A boy of about sixteen."
"Did he give his name?"
The books were referred to, and the attendant answered in the affirmative.
"He gave the name of Ben Barclay," he answered.
"Do you think that was his real name?" asked the detective.
"That depends on whether he had a right to pawn it."
"Suppose he stole it?"
"Then, probably, he did not give his real name."
"So I think," said Mr. Lynx quietly.
"Do you know if there is a boy by that name?"
"There is; but I doubt if he knows anything about the matter."
"I will call again, perhaps to-morrow," he added. "I must report to my principal what I have discovered."
From Simpson's he went straight to Mrs. Hamilton, who had as yet received
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