readenglishbook.com » Fiction » Paul Prescott's Charge, Jr. Horatio Alger [popular romance novels TXT] 📗

Book online «Paul Prescott's Charge, Jr. Horatio Alger [popular romance novels TXT] 📗». Author Jr. Horatio Alger



1 ... 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 ... 57
Go to page:
but——”

“Come, sir, you are growing altogether too particular. All your garments set well, so far as I can judge.”

“Yes, sir, but one likes a change sometimes,” persisted George, a little embarrassed for further objections.

“Well,” said Mr. Dawkins, after a pause, “If you are so strongly bent upon a new tailor, select one, and order what you need. You can tell him to send in his bill to me.”

“Thank you sir,” said his son, by no means pleased at the manner in which his request had been granted. He saw that it would in no manner promote the plan which he had in view, since it would give him no command of the ready money. It is hardly necessary to say that his alleged dissatisfaction with his father's tailor had all been trumped up for the occasion, and would never have been thought of but for the present emergency.

“What shall I do!” thought Dawkins, in perplexity, as he slowly undressed himself and retired to bed.

The only true course, undoubtedly, was to confess all to his father, to incur the storm of reproaches which would have followed as the just penalty of his transgression, and then the haunting fear of discovery would have been once and forever removed. But Dawkins was not brave enough for this. He thought only of escaping from his present difficulty without his father's knowledge.

He rose the next morning with the burden of care still weighing upon him. In the evening the thought occurred to him that he might retrieve his losses where he had incurred them, and again he bent his steps to the gambling house. He risked five dollars, being one-half of what he had. This was lost. Desperately he hazarded the remaining five dollars, and lost again.

With a muttered oath he sprang to his feet, and left the brilliant room, more gloomy and discouraged than ever. He was as badly off as before, and penniless beside. He would have finished the evening at the theater, but his recent loss prevented that. He lounged about the streets till it was time to go to bed, and then went home in a very unsatisfactory state of mind.

A day or two after, he met on Broadway the man whom of all others he would gladly have avoided.

“Aha, my friend, I am glad to meet you,” said Duval, for it was he.

Dawkins muttered something unintelligible, and would have hurried on, but Duval detained him.

“Why are you in such a hurry, my friend?” he said.

“Business,” returned Dawkins, shortly.

“That reminds me of the little business affair between us, mon ami. Have you got any money for me?”

“Not yet.”

“Not yet! It is three days since we saw each other. Could you not do something in three days?”

“I told you I required a week,” said Dawkins, roughly, “Let go my arm. I tell you I am in haste.”

“Very well, mon ami,” said Duval, slowly relinquishing his hold, “take care that you do not forget. There are four days more to the week.”

Dawkins hurried on feeling very uncomfortable. He was quite aware that four days hence he would be as unprepared to encounter the Frenchman as now. Still, something might happen.

Something, unfortunately, did happen.

The next day Mr. Danforth was counting a roll of bills which had been just paid in, when he was unexpectedly called out of the counting-room. He unguardedly left the bills upon his own desk. Dawkins saw them lying there. The thought flashed upon him, “There lies what will relieve me from all my embarrassment.”

Allowing himself scarcely a minute to think, he took from the roll four fifty dollar notes, thrust one into the pocket of Paul's overcoat, which hung up in the office, drew off his right boot and slipped the other three into the bottom of it, and put it on again. He then nervously resumed his place at his desk. A moment afterwards, Paul, who had been to the post-office, entered with letters which he carried into the inner office and deposited on Mr. Danforth's desk. He observed the roll of bills, and thought his employer careless in leaving so much money exposed, but said nothing on the subject to Dawkins, between whom and himself there was little communication.





XXXI. CONVICTED OF THEFT.

Half an hour later Mr. Danforth returned.

“Has any one been here?” he asked as he passed through the outer office.

“No, sir,” said Dawkins, with outward composure though his heart was beating rapidly.

While apparently intent upon his writing he listened attentively to what might be going on in the next room. One,—two,—three minutes passed. Mr. Danforth again showed himself.

“Did you say that no one has been here?” he demanded, abruptly.

“No, sir.”

“Have either of you been into my office since I have been out?”

“I have not, sir,” said Dawkins.

“I went in to carry your letters,” said Paul.

“Did you see a roll of bills lying on my desk?”

“Yes, sir,” said Paul, a little surprised at the question.

“I have just counted it over, and find but six hundred dollars instead of eight hundred. Can you account for the discrepancy?”

Mr. Danforth looked keenly at the two boys. Dawkins, who had schooled himself to the ordeal, maintained his outward calmness. Paul, beginning to perceive that his honesty was called in question, flushed.

“No, sir,” said the boys simultaneously.

“It can hardly be possible, that Mr. Thompson, who is a very careful man, should have made such a mistake in paying me,” resumed Mr. Danforth.

“As we have been the only persons here,” said Dawkins, “the only way to vindicate ourselves from suspicion is, to submit to a search.”

“Yes, sir,” said Paul promptly.

Both boys turned their pockets inside out, but the missing money was not found.

“There is my overcoat, sir,” said Dawkins, “will you be kind enough to search it for yourself?”

Next, of course, Paul's overcoat was searched.

What was our hero's dismay when from one of the pockets Mr. Danforth produced a fifty dollar bill.

“Is it possible?” he exclaimed in as much grief as surprise, “Unhappy boy, how came you by this money in your pocket?”

1 ... 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 ... 57
Go to page:

Free e-book «Paul Prescott's Charge, Jr. Horatio Alger [popular romance novels TXT] 📗» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment