Czytaj książkę: «The Cleverdale Mystery: or, The Machine and Its Wheels: A Story of American Life», strona 10

CHAPTER XXI.
SPOILS! SPOILS!

Christmas came, the day passing quiet and gloomy at the Alden home. The injured man grew worse and was delirious – living over the awful scenes of the fire many times during the day, and starting from his slumbers, crying out:

"Yes, they are saved, they are saved!" then he would moan, "Oh, how the fire burns my flesh! Take that big timber off my back! Must I perish? See, the iron door opens, the people are free – and I have saved them!"

For six days he was delirious, but just one week after the disaster he opened his eyes, looked about him, and in a weak voice said:

"Give me water."

His sister, standing near, raised a glass to his lips while he drank with a relish that he had not displayed since the disaster, his eye flashing with a little of its natural fire; and his sister felt there was really a change for the better. Full of hope, she could scarcely realize that the good symptoms were real.

"Where – where is Belle?" he asked.

"Watching over you constantly. She has gone home for a little rest, but will return in about two hours. Be quiet and go to sleep now; you are better, but must not exhaust yourself."

"Then she will certainly return?"

"Yes, but you must not talk more."

The patient closing his eyes, his sister seated herself at his bedside. Two hours later the young wife returned, and perceiving the happy look upon Fannie's face, said:

"What is it? Tell me quick: is he better?"

"Yes, he opened his eyes, asked for a glass of water, and then inquired for you; when told you would return in two hours, a look of joy crossed his face and he again closed his eyes. He has slept quietly ever since, and his fever has perceptibly gone down."

"Oh, that he may only live!" said Belle, while her eyes filled with tears of joy.

Both ladies entering the sick-room, a glance toward the bed assured them the patient was awake and awaiting their return. Belle, stooping over, kissed him, which greeting he returned with —

"You are so good, I am trying to get well for your sake," he whispered.

When Doctor Briar made his afternoon call he was greatly encouraged.

"He is better," he said, "and if kept quiet there is now strong hope of his recovery. Good nursing will do more for him than anything else."

From that day Alden gained slowly, and all Cleverdale was made happy by the good news that their hero was likely to recover. All? No; there was one exception.

Senator Hamblin, at his office, engaged in writing letters, looked troubled and dejected. He had just returned from the State Capitol, where he had attended the opening session of the Legislature. Before him lay many letters, some with seals unbroken. One in the well-known handwriting of Walter Mannis greatly interested him.

"He is anxious as ever to marry my daughter," he exclaimed. "He believes we will have a peaceful solution of the problem, but in that we have both reckoned wrong. When I left home a few days since, there was not the least possible hope of Alden's ever getting up again. It is a blind game, trying to discount fate. It seemed as if he would relieve us by going off in a regular and legitimate way, but he disappoints us and will remain. Why have I allowed Belle to attend him during his illness? She has not only compromised herself, but by this act I have sanctioned her course."

He lighted a cigar, and soon great clouds of smoke rose and circled over his head, while his pen lay idle beside him.

"Well," he whispered, "if he recovers it will be a bad go. If he could only look into the future, he would have no wish to live – but perhaps he may have a relapse."

Seeming to catch a gleam of hope, he resumed his cigar again, and continued to fill the room with clouds of smoke for at least ten minutes. Then suddenly rising, he said:

"There is no help for it: I must see that our programme is carried out. Sargent is ready to do his work, and I cannot let sentimentality make me lose sight of my own danger. Alden will no doubt recover, and there never will occur so good an opportunity as the present to make the necessary preparations to get rid of him. The hero-worship business is short, and by the time the good people of Cleverdale get through admiring the noble act of Cashier Alden, we will be ready with the trap."

Observing Sargent was alone, he said:

"I wish to speak with you for a few moments."

The teller entering the president's private office, the latter said:

"Have you thought over the matter we discussed the night before the fire?"

"Yes, sir, it has been on my mind a great deal."

"It is evident we must carry out our original intention, for I think Alden will recover."

"It looks that way now."

"Have you any plans to suggest?"

"Yes, I can alter his books – put worthless bonds among the securities, making it appear Alden has abstracted the currency they represent, and carry the transaction along on his books until discovered."

"How will you manage to clear yourself of any complicity?"

"That is easily accomplished. The figures can be altered to correspond with dates in September or August, when Alden was alone in the bank, and make it appear that the worthless bonds were placed among the collaterals at the time, and only discovered by the forced absence of the cashier."

"That is very good, Sargent. Public opinion and sympathy are so strong for Alden it will not do for him to remain here. When confronted with the accusation he must be induced to run away rather than face exposure. When he is accused of defalcation I can express sympathy for him – offer to make good the missing funds – even give him money with which to abscond."

"But, suppose he writes back to his friends – what then?"

"In that case we must plan to intercept his letters."

"That will be easily done, my brother being clerk in the post-office."

"Sargent, you are quick-witted. That will be the very thing; it is a most important point, and has bothered me considerably. We will do nothing until after I return home next week. By that time we shall know more about his chance of recovery."

A customer entering the bank, the conversation ceased.

The following Monday was cold and wintry, and before Senator Hamblin left Cleverdale for Albany he called at the bank and said to Sargent: "He is much better this morning, and we will plant our seed on Saturday."

During the week he was engrossed in his legislative duties. Being a recognized leader in his party, his late victory over both the opposition and stump candidate raised him higher than ever in the estimation of his fellow senators, and in the scramble for spoils of office his power was great. While there were scores of applicants for every office in the gift of the Senate or Legislature, those inducing Senator Hamblin, to espouse their cause were usually successful. The Senator was besieged by many callers, while every mail brought him letters asking help to obtain some position. Every senator and member possessed scores of friends seeking appointments. Mothers, sisters, wives and even children appealed personally to Senator Hamblin for aid, until he was nearly driven to distraction. It was impossible for him to move without encountering some one with a petition, for even when seated in the Senate Chamber, cards and letters were thrust into his hands by the pages, requesting interviews in the cloak-room. Every man who had peddled a vote on election day, asked another to support his candidate, or hurrahed at a political meeting, expected to share in the spoils. Every member unable to obtain positions for all his friends was declared ungrateful, and curses loud and deep were heaped upon his head.

Reader, did you ever visit your State Capitol at the organization of the Legislature, and see the scramble for spoils? A great army of hungry office-seekers, like sharks after a ship, appear even before the opening. Candidates for leading positions, such as speaker and clerks of the House, clerk of the Senate, postmasters, door-keepers and sergeant-at-arms, commence operations before the houses organize. Senators and Assemblymen are besieged and promises obtained from them to support some favorite candidate. Those seeking these places make pledges to support their helpers for subordinate positions, promising to help members voting for them to chairmanships of leading committees. It is a persistent scramble, and honor must take a back seat until the spoils are disposed of. After the leading offices are filled, the fight for subordinate places follows. Railroad trains from the North, South, East and West are laden with applicants accompanied by their backers. Chairmen of county committees, members of the State Committee, Assembly district, and town bosses, are all on hand to offer their assistance in arranging the "slates."

Senator Hamblin was in a dilemma. There were two applicants from Cleverdale for the same position; one backed by Paddy Sullivan, the other by Cyrus Hart Miller. Miller was his first and best man, but Senator Hamblin could not afford to ignore Paddy Sullivan. He expostulated and plead with them, but each was persistent and obstinate. Both were on the ground, and as the war for spoils raged, each felt sure of winning. A rupture with one or other of the favorites seemed imminent, when the affair was amicably arranged, at a cost to the Senator of several hundred dollars, paid to appease his powerful lieutenant, Paddy Sullivan.

The scramble for spoils continued several days, and when the Speaker of the House and the President of the Senate announced their appointments, the usual Swearing Bee began. Disappointed men vowed they would never again support the party, and that night, as the "Swearing Train" left the Capitol city, a long streak of sulphur must have arisen above the car roofs, and all supplied by the profanity of those who, if they had spent as much time in trying to obtain legitimate business employment as they had done in crawling at the heels of appointing powers, would have been richer, better, more useful and independent citizens.

CHAPTER XXII.
SAD FAREWELLS

George Alden improved slowly, his back having received serious injuries, from which Dr. Briar feared he would never fully recover. His faithful nurses were in constant attendance at his bedside, bestowing every attention that skill could suggest or loving hands perform. For many weeks he could not be moved. He became much emaciated, paroxysms of pain being of frequent occurrence and making opiates necessary.

Weeks passed, and spring was near at hand. Allowed to sit up for a short time each day, Alden looked from the window upon the street, enjoying every movement with delight known only to those confined for months upon beds of sickness and pain. Belle sat beside him reading aloud from a book, the patient watching her constantly, seemingly in a trance of worshipful devotion. His eyes sent forth sympathetic and tender glances, his heart catching every word that fell from the beautiful lips. Forgetting himself, he was held in transports of love, soon, alas! to be broken, leaving him a poor worshipper, removed far from his idol. Enjoying these precious hours, and watching the expression of love and happiness gathering upon the face of his young wife, he little thought she was to be the victim of the ambition and lost fortunes of two other men.

"Ah, Belle!" he said one day, "during all my sickness and suffering, I have passed many happy hours; will it always last?"

"I hope so, my dear husband; and when you recover we will publish our marriage, and then renew these happy moments without the attendant suffering."

"But must I be a cripple? Oh, the thought is agony to me. What should I do, a helpless person entirely dependent upon those I love? Even with all the precious hours I could enjoy with you and my dear sister, I should pray God to take me away."

"Do not talk of that. Dr. Briar says you will again be able to walk. Do for the present let your mind rest and be contented; your recovery depends entirely upon this."

"Yes, I know it, and were it not for my two good and loving nurses my mind long ere this would have given way. I am truly happy, yet I am so often reminded of the danger surrounding me that I cannot dispel the thought that I may be permanently helpless."

Belle, rising from her chair, approached him lovingly, placed her arm about his neck, and laughingly said:

"No more of such gloomy forebodings. If you wish to get well you must be happy and contented; if not your nurses will retire and send two snuff-taking, herb-giving hospital women to take care of you. How would you like that, my impatient prisoner?"

"That being too great a punishment, I will promise to obey my nurses, providing they will remain with me."

Week after week passing, the later spring began to send forth its balmy breezes. The snows of winter long since gone, and the birds returned from southern homes, the trees began taking on their garb of emerald, while the apple blossoms were bursting forth, soon to expand their germs into luscious fruit.

The factory had not been rebuilt, and much suffering had been experienced among families whose members were thrown out of employment by the disastrous fire of the previous fall.

The heavy loss to the Cleverdale Woollen Company forced several of its stockholders into bankruptcy, and the business interests of the village were more or less affected by the disaster. Naturally, everybody thought Senator Hamblin too solid financially to be disturbed by the loss of one hundred thousand dollars – the amount of his stock in the company – but had they seen him in the solitude of his office or home meditating over the critical condition of his business affairs, they would have formed a far different opinion. During the winter he had been obliged to raise large sums of money to prevent his own bank paper from going to protest, but with an unlimited credit he could command almost any desired amount. Men with funds lying idle were glad to place their money in the hands of as safe a man as they supposed him to be. Widows and factory operatives felt secure, could they induce the president of the Cleverdale Bank to take their savings and pay them interest. In this way Senator Hamblin succeeded in averting the calamity that would otherwise have overwhelmed him.

He borrowed heavily from the bank on the notes of his friends.

The limited amount a bank may loan to any one individual – as regulated by the National Banking law – is one tenth of its capital stock, but on notes of his friends President Hamblin had already borrowed three quarters of the bank's capital. Thus keeping himself apparently solvent, the people of Cleverdale looked upon him as the wealthiest man in the county, and being a shrewd actor in life's drama, by his conversation and general demeanor he succeeded in making good the impression of his wealth, bestowing gifts upon charitable objects with more liberality than ever before. The Hamblin Guards were his especial pride; he contributed largely to the company's support when occasion afforded opportunity for the organization to do credit to its patron. At the State Capitol he was the leader in numerous projects, and his power was felt on many occasions, when important bills had to be carried through both houses. He returned to his home nearly every Saturday, remaining until Monday. While appearing happy and at ease before the public, in private he was discontented and miserable. Inevitable ruin staring him in the face, he planned to avert the calamity by the assistance of Walter Mannis.

He delayed making final arrangements for disgracing the cashier, hoping the latter would die, but as months passed and the obstinate fellow refused to play the part assigned him, Senator Hamblin became petulant and cross because he was so long in getting well.

He constantly chided Belle for confining herself so closely to the sick-room.

"You must go away from home for a time. Your mother and yourself had better make preparations immediately for the long-talked-of visit to your aunt in Philadelphia," said he. "You need rest and recreation, my daughter."

"I cannot leave home at present; perhaps I may be able to go next month. George is improving rapidly and begins to walk about the room, and even talks of soon resuming his work at the bank."

"Tell him to hurry up, for I want to see the roses back again in your cheeks. You must have rest and at once."

As he turned and left the room, he failed to hear his daughter remark:

"What would Papa say did he know I was the wife of George Alden?"

Two weeks later George Alden, riding for the first time since his illness through the streets of the village, received many demonstrations of the esteem in which he was held. Not only were kind expressions uttered by men, but the "God bless you" of many an old woman reaching him touched his heart-strings. Each day's drive gave him new force, he grew stronger, and the danger of being crippled for life finally passed away.

One day, after he had returned from his drive, Belle sat at his side, where she had passed so many anxious hours.

"Belle, my darling," he said, "you look tired and careworn, your bright color has entirely vanished, and you need a change of air and scene. I am improving so rapidly now, you ought to go away for a while."

"Do you think so, George? Papa said the same thing to me a short time ago. He wants Mamma and me to visit his sister at Philadelphia, but I cannot endure the thought of leaving you."

"I am much better, and by another week hope to be able to resume my duties at the bank. Although I should greatly miss you, nevertheless you must promise to go, for you need it."

Fannie entering the room at that moment, her brother appealed to her. "Fannie, I am trying to persuade Belle to leave home for a short time. Her father also desires her to visit his sister; and she needs rest. Come, Fannie, be as decided with her as you have been with me, and she will not dare disobey."

Fannie laughingly replied, "Yes, my dear Belle, you must go, for it will greatly benefit your health. Get ready to go at once, for George will soon be able to go into the bank."

Belle consented, and returning home, told her mother of her determination. Mrs. Hamblin readily fell in with the arrangement; so dressmakers were called, and everything was done to make the ladies ready for the journey.

One week later George Alden declared himself able to resume his duties, but postponed returning to the bank until after the departure of his wife. Naturally enough he and Belle were constantly together, and were as one in dreading the separation.

"I am sorry, George, I promised to go," said Belle one day. "I cannot tell why I feel so badly about leaving you. I am not superstitious, but I fear something will occur to keep us apart."

"It is all for the best," said George. "Go, my precious wife, for a change is what you need. I shall resume my work at once, and while you are absent will write you each day. Returning you will be better able to meet your father, and tell him of our marriage."

The two were together several hours the day before the departure, but there was an indescribable feeling in the minds of both that something would occur affecting their happiness.

Telling their fears to Fannie, she laughed and said:

"Nonsense; lovers always feel that way when they part. Nothing is likely to occur affecting your happiness, unless it will make you both miserable to see the roses again in bloom upon Belle's cheeks."

But the final parting was full of sad forebodings, and as the train bore away Mrs. Hamblin and daughter, the tears shed in silence by the latter would not have ceased so soon had she known that her cup of happiness was to be replaced by one so full of trouble that its very bitterness would almost drive her into eternity.

CHAPTER XXIII.
EXILED FROM HOME AND FRIENDS

The Legislative season drawing to a close, Senator Hamblin made preparations to return home. Determining upon an active and early canvass for the nomination as Gubernatorial candidate, his money had been lavishly expended to win converts, while his large dinner parties – the finest of the season – were attended by leading men and high dignitaries. So successful had been his efforts to make friends for himself, that even when the session closed, and before his canvass began, he was spoken of as the probable choice of his party for the Governor's chair. He therefore concentrated all his energies to accomplish two objects: his own nomination and the marriage of his daughter to Walter Mannis.

When awake these two objects were constantly on his mind; when asleep his dreams were filled with them; when the impending financial hurricane forced itself upon his mind he always reasoned:

"Walter Mannis will make my daughter a magnificent husband, while his fortune will prevent my failure. Once Governor of the State, and I can wield influence enough to extricate myself from the present dilemma."

The session had not been a profitable one to him, for no large jobs that he was interested in came before the Senate; besides, while looking out for his pocket, he had to avoid injuring his chances for the nomination. The session had cost him several thousand dollars more than his salary, which added to his embarrassments, yet his lavish use of money made all believe his wealth increasing.

After the departure of Belle, George Alden became much depressed in spirits. He was anxious to enter the bank at once, but by the advice of Doctor Briar he went, accompanied by his sister, to visit a cousin about two hundred miles distant. The change of air and scene, together with the letters received from his wife, gave him renewed vigor, and his despondency wore away. After a visit of one week he made preparations to return home – his sister, as much in need of a change as himself, was induced to remain a few days longer.

On his return, Alden was welcomed by many friends, who warmly grasped his hand and expressed their gratification; but when, on the following day, he entered the bank, he felt hurt at the cold greeting of the teller. Removing his hat and stepping to his desk, he opened a book, when Sargent said:

"Beg pardon, Mr. Alden, but the president desires to see you in his private office before you resume your duties."

"See me?" said the astonished cashier. "For what?"

"That you will hear, sir, from his own lips."

His voice was full of irony, and the manner in which he spoke caused the cashier to tremble, his pale face indicating agitation.

"Well, I will see him at once," Alden replied, and stepping to the door of the private office, he gently rapped. Receiving a summons, he opened the door and entered the apartment. The president was sitting at his desk. Alden said:

"The teller informed me you desired my presence here."

The president, giving him a cold, meaning look, rose from his seat, turned the key in the lock, then said:

"Yes, he was right. Be seated. I have much to say, and of a painful nature."

George Alden's lips trembled. For a moment neither spoke, the silence being finally broken by the president.

"George, never in my whole life did I have such a painful duty to perform as now falls to my lot. You have served the bank for several years, and during that time have succeeded in winning the confidence of every officer of the institution. You have been trusted implicitly at all times, yet an examination reveals to us that this confidence placed in you has not been deserved."

He paused, when George Alden sprang to his feet, and gasped:

"I – I do not – that is – I cannot comprehend your meaning."

"Be seated, Alden. It almost unmans me; in fact, ever since this affair came to my knowledge my confidence in mankind has been shaken as never before. I see you are overcome; why not confess your crime, and let us see that you are not as depraved as your act would indicate."

"My God! what do you mean? Confess what? At least, inform me of what I am charged."

"Why inform you of what you already know? The abstraction of the funds has been discovered and the worthless bonds are here."

Turning to his desk and opening a drawer, he laid before the astonished cashier five thousand dollars in worthless paper.

"I swear before my Maker," exclaimed George, "that I never saw those bonds before. What conspiracy is this?"

The president affected surprise and answered:

"You act your part well. You little thought, I suppose, that we would discover your crime. The books, however, show that some time in August last year you took five thousand dollars in money from the bank, placing these worthless bonds in the vault as collateral."

George Alden rose to his feet, and lifting his clenched hand above his head, and bringing it down upon the table before him, said:

"It is a lie! If anything is wrong the villain is in the other room."

"Beware, young man, how you talk; the evidence is too strong for you to escape by any means whatever. Here is the entry made in your own handwriting. You cannot deny this. Look here – is that written by any other hand than your own?"

"It – it – it – does look – oh, my God! I never wrote it. Am I dreaming? No, I am the victim of that man who has been at my desk."

Catching hold of a chair to prevent himself from falling, and turning toward the president, in piteous tones he said:

"Mr. Hamblin, certainly you do not think me capable of robbing the bank?"

His answer being only a cold wave of the hand, the distracted man stared at his tormentor; as he did so, anger succeeded amazement, and he exclaimed:

"It is a foul conspiracy, and you are at the bottom of it! You would ruin me to satisfy your own ambition, you scoundrel!"

The president turned white with rage, and said:

"Have a care what you say, young man, or I will hand you over to the courts, where your crime will receive its just punishment. Your assumed innocence cannot stand against proofs so damaging as these books reveal."

"But I never committed the deed. I am innocent of anything so despicable. I a defaulter! God knows I never wronged any man. Oh, why was I brought out of the burning factory!"

His weak condition showed that he had miscalculated his strength, and Senator Hamblin looking into his face, saw its deathly pallor, while the poor man's eyeballs seemed almost ready to burst from their sockets. Much alarmed, he rose hastily, and seizing the hand of George Alden, said:

"I pity you – God knows I do. You are only human, and I will try and help you out of this trouble, for I recognize you have claims upon me."

"Thank you; perhaps I spoke hastily just now, but answer me – do you think I am guilty?"

"The evidence is very strong against you."

"But have you never thought another might have desired to get me out of the way?"

"To whom do you refer?"

The cashier turned, and pointing toward the door opening into the banking department, replied:

"The man who once went back on you."

"No, I cannot believe that – for he pities you, and to him you owe the fact that no one knows of your crime but him and myself."

"My crime? Stop! do not call it that."

"Calm yourself, George, and let us talk of the future. Of course, it is impossible for you to remain in the bank. No one but Sargent and myself knows of the affair. You are without means to make good the missing sum. I have suffered great anguish of mind since I learned of this matter, and am not indifferent to the existing relations between you and my family, which makes my course toward you far different than it would be were our relations otherwise. Beside this, your brave act of last fall entitles you to consideration, therefore I will befriend and help you, if I can."

"Thank you, sir! thank you. I – I am so bewildered, I scarcely know what to do. I cannot realize that I am awake. I know I am innocent of any crime; but I have no adviser."

"Listen a moment," replied the president. "I can and will help you. I will replace the money, and thus make good the defalcation – advance you five hundred dollars beside, and you can quietly leave Cleverdale."

"I leave Cleverdale like a criminal! Confessing by flight that I am a thief! No, sir, I cannot do that."

"You do not realize your situation. At present no one knows of this affair. If you remain in town an excuse must be given for discharging you from the bank, for it will be impossible for you to retain your position here. Reflect a moment. If you desire to remain and face the evidence, I am powerless to prevent you. I am your friend so far as I can be, but should you remain here it will be necessary for me to report this matter to the board of directors. I wish I might do otherwise, but I cannot be placed in the attitude of sacrificing my own honor. I know that warm affection exists between you and my daughter; as the father of her whom you love and respect, I will help you if you will help yourself, but I cannot go beyond those limits and make myself the shielder of an openly apparent criminal. Ah! I know what you would say, but facts exist that we must look at squarely. I offer to help you, but you must leave Cleverdale at once."

The distracted cashier fell into a chair and groaned with agony. Through his mind rapidly passing many thoughts, he fully realized his situation, and knew he was the victim of a base trick, if not a conspiracy, yet he was powerless to prove his innocence. Thoughts of his young wife and sister passing rapidly through his mind, his first and only consideration was to shield them from disgrace. Once he thought of disclosing the secret of his marriage, but remembering the solemn promise made his wife, and knowing that Senator Hamblin was a cold-hearted man, he feared the disclosure might increase their difficulties.

These thoughts running rapidly through his mind, he wished for his wife and sister that he might consult them, but as they were far away, in whatever he did he must act alone, and in his weakened condition he was unfit to decide so serious a matter.

He believed his innocence would be established if he prevented the conspiracy from being made public; although he was a good enough judge of human nature to suspect Hamblin, he was loath to believe that the president desired his ruin. He believed that Hamblin's mind had been poisoned by Sargent, who had really robbed the bank and made a scapegoat of the cashier. At the same time he recognized the fact that Senator Hamblin was in the power of the teller, but desired to get rid of the cashier. The more he thought over the subject the more he saw the utter impossibility of proving his innocence, but concluded to make one more appeal to the president.