Paul the Peddler; Or, The Fortunes of a Young Street Merchant, Jr. Horatio Alger [drm ebook reader TXT] 📗

Amity street, and, taking off his clerical garb, appeared in the garb in which we first made his acquaintance. The change was very speedily effected.

“Wish me good luck, Mrs. M.,” he said, as he opened the door. “I am going to make another attempt.”

“Good luck to you, Tony! Come back soon.”

“As soon as my business is completed. If I get the money, we will leave for Philadelphia this evening. You may as well be packing up.”

“I am afraid the landlady won't let us carry away our baggage unless we pay our bill.”

“Never mind! Pack it up, and we'll run our chance.”

Felix Montgomery left the house with the ring carefully deposited in his vest pocket. To judge from his air of easy indifference, he might readily have been taken for a substantial citizen in excellent circumstances; but then appearances are oftentimes deceitful, and they were especially so in the present instance.

He made his way quickly to Broadway, and thence to Tiffany's, at that time not so far uptown as at present. He entered the store with a nonchalant air, and, advancing to the counter, accosted the same clerk to whom Paul had shown the ring earlier in the day.

“I have a valuable ring which I would like to sell,” he said. “Will you tell me its value?”

The clerk no sooner took it in his hand than he recognized it.

“I have seen that ring before,” he said, looking at Mr. Montgomery keenly.

“Yes,” said the latter, composedly; “this morning, wasn't it?”

“Yes.”

“My boy brought it in here. I ought not to have sent him, for he came very near losing it on the way home. I thought it best to come with it myself.”

This was said so quietly that it was hard to doubt the statement, or would have been if information had not been brought to the store that the ring had been stolen.

“Yes, boys are careless,” assented the clerk, not caring to arouse Mr. Montgomery's suspicions. “You wish to sell the ring, I suppose.”

“Yes,” answered the other; “I don't like to carry a ring of so great value. Several times I have come near having it stolen. Will you buy it?”

“I am not authorized to make the purchase,” said the clerk. “I will refer the matter to Mr. Tiffany.”

“Very well,” said Mr. Montgomery. “I am willing to accept whatever he may pronounce a fair price.”

“No doubt,” thought the clerk.

He carried the ring to his employer, and quickly explained the circumstances.

“The man is doubtless a thief. He must be arrested,” said the jeweler.

“If I go for an officer, he will take alarm.”

“Invite him to come into the back part of the shop, and I will protract the negotiation while you summon a policeman.”

The clerk returned, and at his invitation Mr. Montgomery walked to the lower end of the store, where he was introduced to the head of the establishment. Sharp though he was, he suspected no plot.

“You are the owner of this ring?” asked Mr. Tiffany.

“Yes, sir,” said the adventurer. “It has been in our family for a long time.”

“But you wish to sell it now?”

“Yes; I have come near losing it several times, and prefer to dispose of it. What is its value?”

“That requires some consideration. I will examine it closely.”

Mr. Montgomery stood with his back to the entrance, waiting patiently, while the jeweler appeared to be engaged in a close examination of the ring. He congratulated himself that no questions had been asked which it might have been difficult for him to answer. He made up his mind that after due examination Mr. Tiffany would make an offer, which he determined in advance to accept, whatever it might be, since he would consider himself fortunate to dispose of it at even two-thirds of its value.

Meanwhile the clerk quietly slipped out of the store, and at a short distance encountered a policeman, upon whom he called for assistance. At the same moment Paul and Mr. Preston came up. Our hero, on being released from arrest, had sought Mr. Preston, and the latter obligingly agreed to go with him to Tiffany's, and certify to his honesty, that, if the ring should be brought there, it might be retained for him. Paul did not recognize the clerk, but the latter at once remembered him.

“Are you not the boy that brought a diamond ring into our store this morning?” he asked.

“Into Tiffany's?”

“Yes.”

“Have you seen anything of it?” asked our hero, eagerly. “I am the one who brought it in.”

“A man just brought it into the store,” said the clerk.

“Is he there now?”

“He is talking with Mr. Tiffany. I came out for a policeman. He will be arrested at once.”

“Good!” ejaculated Paul; “I am in luck. I thought I should never see the ring again. What sort of a man is he?”

From the description, Paul judged that it was Felix Montgomery himself, and, remembering what a trick the adventurer had played upon him at Lovejoy's Hotel, he felt no little satisfaction in the thought that the trapper was himself trapped at last.

“I'll go along with you,” he said. “I want to see that man arrested.”

“You had better stay outside just at first, until we have secured him.”

Meanwhile Mr. Tiffany, after a prolonged examination, said: “The ring is worth two hundred and fifty dollars.”

“That will be satisfactory,” said Mr. Montgomery, promptly.

“Shall I give you a check for the amount?” asked the jeweler.

“I should prefer the money, as I am a stranger in the city, and not known at the banks.”

“I can make the check payable to bearer, and then you will have no difficulty in getting it cashed.”

While this conversation was going on, the clerk entered the store with the policeman, but Mr. Montgomery's back was turned, and he was not aware of the fact till the officer tapped him on the shoulder, saying: “You are my prisoner.”

“What does this mean? There is some mistake,” said the adventurer, wheeling round with a start.

“No mistake at all. You must come with me.”

“What