CHAPTER XII.
IN WHICH PHIL VISITS THE HOUSE OF MR. COLLINGSBY, AND SEES MISS MARIAN.
I went to the counting-room at an early hour. My first care was to tie up the valuable package, which I had brought with me, in thick paper, and to seal it very carefully. I wrote my own name upon it, and then placed it in one of the drawers of the safe, the key of which was kept in the desk. I hoped to obtain permission, when Mr. Whippleton came to the counting-room, to visit St. Louis, especially as business was not as driving as usual. I did all my routine work, and the junior partner had not arrived. I was not anxious to see him for any other purpose than to obtain leave of absence. Indeed, the idea of meeting him was very embarrassing. After what his mother had said, I was satisfied that Mr. Whippleton had been using the funds of the firm in his own private speculations. It was evident that he had appropriated no less a sum than forty thousand dollars, which was represented by the fictitious invoices. I did not believe that he intended to purloin the money, but would replace it when his land speculations yielded their returns. Mr. Collingsby never examined the books thoroughly, and was not likely to discover the fraud. I knew all about it, and it suddenly flashed upon my mind that it would be wrong for me to be a party to a concealment.
I was not employed by Mr. Whippleton alone, but by the firm. My obligations were to both the partners; and though Mr. Collingsby never took any notice of me, my duty to him was just as urgent as to the junior. The thought startled me. My soul revolted at the idea of any treachery to Mr. Whippleton, who had always been very kind to me. But on the other hand, my moral sense revolted at the thought of concealing his fraud. I was troubled by the situation.
Mrs. Whippleton did not believe that her son's enterprise in real estate was a success. In her own words, he "had been bitten." It seemed to me that, in the end, there must be a fearful explosion. As I had the whole charge of the books now, I did not see how I could avoid any complicity with the fraud. In fact, I had already discovered it. I felt that I had a duty to perform, and that, if I exposed the junior partner, he, and not I, would be guilty of his fall. Was it meanness, ingratitude, or treachery in me to put Mr. Collingsby on his guard? If I could save Mr. Whippleton, I wished to do so. It was plain that he had come to a realizing sense of his danger, and was persecuting his mother to obtain the means of making good his deficit. But all the old lady's money would not cover the deficiency, and it was also impossible for him to obtain it. He had falsified the books, and he could not undo that.
If I continued to cover up Mr. Whippleton's error, I became a party to it. He was a bad man, and I could not fail to see my duty. I must inform Mr. Collingsby of what I had discovered. But though my duty was clear, my inclination rebelled. The junior partner had been kind and considerate; the senior, lofty and distant. It seemed almost like betraying my friend. While I was still considering the matter, Mr. Whippleton came in. I had not reached any conclusion, except that I would not be a party to the fraud by concealing it.
"Phil, do you know where Mr. Collingsby lives?" said the junior partner, while I was still in this state of doubt and uncertainty.
"I do, sir."
"I wish you would go up and show him this list of lumber," continued Mr. Whippleton, who seemed to be very much excited, and was very pale. "Tell him I can buy the lot at a very low figure if I can pay cash at one o'clock to-day."
"I wish you would send Robert," I replied, alluding to the new entry clerk. "I want to speak to you about the books."
"Never mind the books," he answered. "I want you to go, for you can tell him all about the cash of the concern. I heard just now that he was not very well, and probably would not be here to-day."
By this time I had made up my mind what to do, and the conclusion seemed to afford me the means of escaping both horns of the dilemma into which I was plunged. I glanced at the memoranda which Mr. Whippleton handed to me, and I saw that about twenty-five thousand dollars would be required to make the purchase he contemplated. Our cash balance in the bank was about six thousand, and Mr. Collingsby was expected to furnish the rest. I did not care to go to the senior partner upon such an errand, for I was afraid that the transaction the junior meditated might include another fictitious invoice.
"Well, will you go?" demanded Mr. Whippleton, while I was looking at the list.
"I would rather not, sir," I replied.
"What!"
"I have come to the conclusion that I should resign my place here," I replied, finding that nothing but plain speech would answer my purpose.
"Resign!" exclaimed he.
He was paler than ever, and my words evidently startled him.
"What do you mean by that? Are you not satisfied with your salary? If you are not, I will give you ten dollars a week, or twelve, or more, if you desire."
"My salary is quite satisfactory."
"And you are engaged for a year."
"I know I am, but I hope you will let me off."
"No; I will not. This is a shabby trick, after I have taken the trouble to break you in, and you know our books perfectly."
"I'm afraid I know them too well," I replied.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked; but he dropped into a chair, apparently faint, as he had been on the preceding occasion.
"I believe in being fair and square, Mr. Whippleton. There is something wrong about the books."
"Nonsense, Phil. That is only because there are some things about the business which you don't understand."
"I want to go to St. Louis this afternoon to see my father."
"Very well; you can go. You can be absent a week, if you wish. Haven't I used you well, Phil?"
"You have, sir,—very well, indeed; and I am grateful to you for all your kindness."
"Then why should you leave? If you wish to see your father, go to St. Louis for a week or two. Your salary shall be paid just the same as though you were here."
"Thank you, sir; you are very kind, and you always are."
"Then why do you want to leave me?"
"It is because you have always used me well that I wish to go. I am afraid my trial balance was more correct than I supposed at the time."
"What do you mean, Phil?" demanded he, springing to his feet with sudden energy.
"Whether right or wrong, sir, I believe that you have taken about forty thousand dollars out of the concern without the knowledge or consent of your partner."
"Why, Phil!"
He dropped into his chair again, and I was satisfied that I had hit the nail on the head. He gasped and trembled, but, fortunately for him, we were alone in the counting-room.
"I have spoken just what I think, sir; but I hope I am mistaken."
"You are mistaken, Phil; most tremendously mistaken. I like you, Phil; if I did not, I should kick you out of the counting-room without another word. But I believe you mean to be honest, and that you have made an honest blunder, though it is a very stupid one."
"Certainly the lumber included in those invoices you brought down from your rooms was never entered in the lumber book."
"Confound the lumber book! Never mention the thing again to me! I have told you that no reliance whatever can be placed upon it. I can convince you of your mistake in one hour."
"I shall be very glad to be convinced."
"But we haven't the hour now to look up the matter. I will explain it all to you this afternoon, and then, if you are not satisfied, I will let you go, and pay you a year's salary, besides."
"I only want to know what became of the lumber billed to the firm in those invoices," I answered, not at all satisfied with his proposition.
"I will show you this afternoon. Now, go up to Mr. Collingsby's and do my errand. The firm may lose a good bargain, if I miss this trade."
I concluded to go to the senior partner's. I inquired particularly in regard to the lumber Mr. Whippleton purposed to buy, but all the junior said assured me that he was preparing for another movement. I took the list, and a memorandum of the cash balance in the bank, and left the office. Somehow, in spite of myself, I felt guilty. Even my resolve to leave the service of the firm did not satisfy me. It would only leave the senior partner to be swindled still more. I hastened to the house of Mr. Collingsby, which I had never entered. I rang the bell, and was admitted to the entry, where I was required to wait till the senior partner could be informed of my desire to see him.
"It's a magnificent day to sail," said a gentleman in the parlor, near the door of which I stood.
I recognized the voice of Mr. Waterford, the owner of the yacht which was the twin sister of the Florina. He was generally called, by those who knew him, Ben Waterford. He was reputed to have made a fortune in real estate speculations, and was a young man of fine personal appearance. I had often seen him when out sailing with Mr. Whippleton. My own impression was not very favorable; for I regarded him as not only rather fast, but as lacking in moral principle. As he spoke he walked towards the door, and I saw that he was with a young lady of seventeen or eighteen, a very beautiful and a very elegant girl in style and manner.
"I should be delighted to go," said she; "but you give me very short notice. You wish to leave in an hour."
"Of course we will wait till you are ready, Miss Collingsby."
It was the daughter of Mr. Richard Collingsby, and I had heard that her name was Marian. Land Limpedon had rehearsed her charms to me, and with no little disgust had added that Ben Waterford was "waiting upon her." It seemed to me quite proper, therefore, that he should take her out to sail.
"I will endeavor to be ready in an hour," she added. "But who is going with you?"
"My sister and one or two others. We shall have a nice time. The lake is still, and it is a splendid day. We shall have a good dinner, and I know that you will enjoy it; only bring plenty of thick clothing, for it may be chilly before we return."
"I always carry plenty of clothing when I go upon the water. But you don't tell me who is going, Mr. Waterford."
"My sister and—"
"I never saw your sister. Is there any one I know?" asked Miss Collingsby.
"I have invited four, and they all said they would go if they could. It is short notice, but you see, Miss Collingsby, I never like to take out any ladies without being sure of the weather."
"You are very wise and prudent, Mr. Waterford," laughed the beautiful young lady; "I shall be there, for one."
"Thank you; then we shall be sure to have a pleasant time," added the skipper.
"But I shall not go unless some of the rest of the party appear. I will not go alone."
"Mr. Whippleton will be in the Florina, near us. We shall sail in company, and he will have a party in his boat."
The young lady very properly repeated her stipulation that others should join the party, and when the terms were duly arranged, Mr. Waterford left the house. Miss Marian glanced at me, and that was all. Probably she did not think I was worth noticing; but she changed her mind before night, for it so happened that I was one of the party in Mr. Waterford's yacht that day.
The servant showed me up stairs, where I found Mr. Collingsby comfortably sick in his arm-chair.
CHAPTER XIII.
IN WHICH PHIL LOOKS INTO THE OPERATIONS OF THE JUNIOR PARTNER.
As I went up the stairs, I did not see how Mr. Whippleton was to sail a party in his yacht on the lake, and still explain to me the difficulty about the books of the firm. But then, what had been so mysterious in the ways of the junior partner was now becoming more tangible. In solving the problem of the invoices, all the rest of the trouble seemed to be unravelled. Mr. Ben Waterford intimated that Mr. Whippleton was to sail his boat with a party on the lake within an hour or two. Perhaps he intended to complete his great purchase before that time.
I did not believe that he expected anything of the kind, however. I found myself very suspicious of Mr. Charles Whippleton. He had plundered the firm of a large sum of money, and it looked now as though he intended to enlarge his operations in this direction, rather than make good the deficit. I found it impossible to escape the responsibility of my position, and it pressed heavily upon me.
The Interview with Mr. CollingsbyThe Interview with Mr. Collingsby.Page 147.
"Well, young man," said Mr. Collingsby, as I entered the chamber, where he was seated.
"Mr. Whippleton sent me to see you in regard to a transaction he wishes to complete this forenoon," I replied, producing my papers.
"Why didn't he come himself?"
I could not help thinking there was a great deal of force in this question, and it strengthened some vague resolves in my mind.
"I don't know, sir. He told me to show you this list of lumber, with prices," I continued, explaining more fully the errand upon which I had been sent.
"He should have come himself," added the senior partner, with a frown. "What is the balance in the bank?"
"About six thousand dollars," I replied, handing him the memorandum I had made.
"It ought to be thirty, if not fifty thousand. Don't you make any collections now?"
"Yes, sir; about the same as usual."
"There is something very strange in the business. I am asked to furnish twenty thousand dollars outside of the capital I have already invested in the firm. Tell Mr. Whippleton to come and see me immediately."
"I will, sir;" and I turned to go.
"Stop a minute, young man. What's your name?" interposed the senior.
"Philip, sir."
"Do you keep the books now, Mr. Philips?"
My dignified uncle did not even know my name, and had made a mistake which I did not think it necessary to correct, since he took so little interest in the matter.
"I do most of the work now, sir, on them," I replied.
"Have you any list of debts due the concern?"
"No, sir: there is none at the counting-room."
"It seems to me that proper attention is not given to the matter of credits and collections. We should have a much larger balance in the bank."
"Shall I tell Mr. Whippleton you wish to see him?" I replied, edging towards the door.
"Can you answer my question, Mr. Philips?" demanded the senior, sternly.
"I cannot, sir; Mr. Whippleton has charge of the finances. When credits have been given, they have been on time notes, which are paid as they mature," I answered.
"We had thirty thousand surplus capital on the first of January."
"Mr. Whippleton has laid in a large stock of lumber."
"And now wishes to increase it, after the best business of the year is over. I don't understand it."
"Nor I, sir."
"You don't?"
"No, sir; and since you have spoken to me about the matter, I wish to add that I think something is wrong."
"What do you mean, Mr. Philips?"
"I suppose I ought not to meddle with what does not concern me."
"Does not concern you! Are you not employed by the firm?"
"Yes, sir; but what the members of the firm do with their capital does not concern me."
"You said you thought something was wrong, Mr. Philips. What do you mean by that?"
"I made out a trial balance for the business of the last six months. Mr. Whippleton destroyed it."
I felt that I was doing my duty, and as briefly as I could, I told the whole story about the invoices. I saw that the senior partner was startled. And he understood where his balance was.
"Why didn't you speak to me of this before, Mr. Philips?"
"I have always talked with Mr. Whippleton about the books and the business. I did not feel at liberty to speak to you about it."
"You ought to have done so."
"Perhaps I ought, sir; but it was a very delicate matter, and Mr. Whippleton says now that it is all right. Perhaps it is, sir; I don't know. I only say I don't understand it."
"Neither do I. Something shall be done at once. Where are those invoices which you think are fictitious ones?"
"On file, sir."
"Send them to me at once. Stop. I will go to the counting-room myself," he continued, beginning to be excited, as he rose from his easy-chair.
"They have never been entered in the lumber book, sir."
"What's the lumber book?"
I explained what it was.
"Send Mr. Faxon to me. Send the invoices by him," continued the senior. "Perhaps I can look into the matter better here than at the counting-room."
I wondered that he even knew who Mr. Faxon was. A man who had so little knowledge of his own business as Mr. Collingsby almost deserved to be cheated out of his property.
"What shall I say to Mr. Whippleton, sir?" I asked.
"Tell him we will not increase our stock at any rate," he replied, decidedly. "Do you think Mr. Whippleton has been using the firm's money for his own purposes, Mr. Philips?"
"That is not for me to say, sir. Mr. Whippleton has always been very kind to me, and I dislike to say anything about this business."
"But, Mr. Philips, you are employed by the firm, of which I am the senior member. I furnished nearly all the capital—that is, my father and I together."
"I know it, sir; and I felt it to be my duty to speak, or I should not have done so. Of course I have drawn a catastrophe upon myself by what I have done."
"What's that?"
"Mr. Whippleton will hate me, and discharge me at once. I wished to resign this morning, but he would not allow me to do so."
"I'm glad he did not. If I find you have been mistaken, I shall say nothing about the matter to him. Mr. Faxon and the invoices will soon answer me one way or the other. I asked you if you thought Mr. Whippleton had been using the firm's money for his own purposes. You did not answer me."
"I think he has, sir. He is engaged in a large land speculation with Mr. Waterford."
"Waterford!" exclaimed the dignified senior. "He is no better than a swindler."
"Indeed!" I exclaimed, recalling the fact that I had just seen the subject of this harsh epithet making an appointment with the beautiful daughter of Mr. Collingsby.
"Perhaps I know him better than others; but no matter about him."
"He is a very wealthy young man," I suggested.
"No; he made a good thing of one or two speculations, and may possibly have twenty or thirty thousand dollars, if he hasn't sunk it in some of his mad schemes. I was foolish enough to indorse one of his notes without security. He is an unprincipled man; and if Whippleton has been operating with him, I am not surprised that he is in trouble. Now go, Mr. Philips, and send Mr. Faxon, with the invoices."
I bowed myself out, and hastened back to the counting-room, where I found Mr. Whippleton waiting my return with feverish impatience.
"What have you been about, Phil?" he demanded.
"Talking with Mr. Collingsby. He declines to have the stock increased, and don't approve your proposition."
"He is an idiot!" exclaimed the junior, with a savage oath. "What were you talking about all this time, Phil?"
"I answered the questions he put to me, and stated your proposition fully."
Mr. Faxon came in opportunely at this moment to save me from a more searching examination, and took his place at the desk. The junior partner was evidently vexed and disconcerted. He looked at his watch, and walked back and forth very nervously. In a few moments he went out. I took the mysterious invoices from the file, enclosed them in an envelope, and delivered Mr. Collingsby's message to the head salesman. It was very evident that an explosion could not be long deferred. Mr. Faxon would be able to inform the senior partner that the lumber mentioned in the fictitious invoices had never been received in the yard. The Michigan Pine Company had an agency in the city, and it would be a very easy matter to verify the principal bill, if it were a genuine one.
Mr. Whippleton soon returned. He looked more cheerful and satisfied than when he went out; but as he came near me, I smelt his breath, and found that his new inspiration was whiskey. He immediately sent me to settle with a building firm who had made large purchases, though he usually attended to this portion of the business himself. I was absent about an hour. When I returned, the junior partner was not in the counting-room.
"Where is Mr. Whippleton?" I asked.
"He went out about five minutes ago," replied the entry clerk.
"Did he say where he was going?"
"No; he drew a check, and left with that and a lot of other papers in his hand."
I took the check book from the safe, and found that he had drawn the entire balance, save a few dollars. I was alarmed. The crisis seemed to come sooner than I expected.
"What papers did he take?" I asked.
"I don't know what they were. He took a file from the safe, and looked it over for some time."
"Which file?"
"I don't know."
I went to the safe, and found that the notes receivable had been considerably deranged, for I had put them away with the nicest care. I satisfied myself that quite a number of them had been taken from the file. Mr. Whippleton was evidently raising a large sum of money. I placed the note book upon the table, and told the entry clerk to check off the notes as I read them. When we had finished this comparison, those not checked were the notes the junior had taken. They represented about thirty-two thousand dollars. At this moment he was, doubtless, raising the money on these notes.
What should I do? Mr. Whippleton was a villain! I concluded that he found it impossible to conceal his frauds much longer, and he was getting together all the money he could, in order to flee to some safer locality. He had persecuted his mother with a pertinacity which indicated a resolute purpose to do something. Now he had taken notes and cash to the amount of thirty-eight thousand dollars. I was no longer troubled with any scruples about exposing him, and I felt that I was hunting a villain.
I hastened with all speed to the house of Mr. Collingsby, and without waiting for the slow formalities of the ceremonious servant, I rushed up stairs to the chamber of the senior partner. I knocked, but I did not wait for a summons before I entered.
"I am glad you have come, Mr. Philips," said Mr. Collingsby. "You are entirely right. These invoices are fictitious. Mr. Faxon has been to the office of the Michigan Pine Company, and no such goods have been sold to our firm."
"I was pretty well satisfied on that point, sir; but the matter is worse than that. Mr. Whippleton has just checked out the entire balance in the bank, and taken away notes to the amount of thirty-two thousand dollars," I replied.
"The villain!" ejaculated Mr. Collingsby.
CHAPTER XIV.
IN WHICH PHIL MEETS WITH A SERIOUS CATASTROPHE.
"You have done wrong, Mr. Philips!" said the senior partner, with energy.
"I did the best I could, sir."
"No, you didn't. You ought to have spoken to me the moment you found anything wrong about the books."
"I was not sure that anything was wrong, sir. Mr. Whippleton said they were all right. When I found the invoices were missing, I spoke to him about them, and in about two weeks he brought them from his rooms."
"But you knew that the lumber of these invoices was not entered on the lumber book."
"Mr. Whippleton said he did not recognize the lumber book, and told me not to say anything to Mr. Faxon about them," I pleaded. "He was my employer, and I had to do what he ordered me to do."
"I'm your employer as much as he," protested the senior.
"That's very true, sir; but I never talked with you about the books or the business. You hardly ever spoke to me, sir."
"What has that to do with it, Mr. Philips?" demanded he, sternly.
"I did not feel at liberty to speak to you about your partner. Besides, sir, I hoped it would all come out right."
"You had no business to hope anything at all about it."
"I have done the best I knew how, sir. As you seem to be dissatisfied with me, I don't wish to have anything more to do with the matter. I told Mr. Whippleton I wanted to leave this morning. I am ready to go now."
"Go! Do you want to leave me now, when everything is in confusion?"
"Yes, sir; I want to leave if you are not satisfied."
"I'm not satisfied; but if you leave, I shall believe that you are a party to the villany that has been carried on in the counting-room. I thought you were on very intimate terms with Mr. Whippleton, your employer, sailing with him, and spending your Sundays on the lake with him."
"I never was in a boat with him on Sunday in my life, sir," I protested, vehemently.
"Well, he was out in his boat every Sunday, and I supposed, as you went with him at other times, you did on Sundays."
"No, sir; I did not. He was very kind to me, and I was grateful to him for it."
"You seem to be," sneered the dignified senior.
"He treated me with a kindness and consideration which I never received from his partner; and I shall always thankfully remember that, whatever else in him I may desire to forget," I replied, smartly, for I was cut to the soul by the cold and harsh words and manner of Mr. Collingsby, after I had exposed the rascality of his partner.
"No impudence, young man."
"I should like to leave at once, sir."
"You can't leave."
"I think I can, sir."
"If you do, I will send an officer after you. In my opinion, you and Whippleton have been altering the books to suit your own purposes."
"It looks so, after I have called your attention to these invoices—don't it, sir?" I replied, with becoming indignation.
"Why didn't you speak of them before, then?"
"Because I was not sure that anything was wrong till last night."
"Pray what did you discover last night?" asked the senior, with a palpable sneer.
"I discovered that Mr. Whippleton was very anxious to raise a large sum of money. This morning I told him squarely what I thought he had been doing, but he promised to convince me that it was all right this afternoon. But in spite of all he said, I told you about the invoices this forenoon."
"You didn't speak soon enough."
"While you are reproaching me, Mr. Whippleton is raising money on the notes of the firm."
"And you want to desert me!"
"I do, when I am accused of being concerned in his frauds."
"Perhaps I was hasty," added Mr. Collingsby, biting his lip. "I did not mean to say that you profited by his fraud."
"I think he has exposed the whole thing," said Mr. Faxon.
"We will consider this matter at another time. What's to be done?"
"Go to the banks, the bankers, and the brokers, and find Mr. Whippleton," I replied.
"Will you assist, Mr. Philips?"
"I will; but I should like to go to St. Louis to-night."
"We will see about that. Call a carriage for me, Mr. Faxon. Now, stop him, if you can. Have him arrested! The villain has swindled me out of seventy or eighty thousand dollars," continued Mr. Collingsby, bustling about the room, and apparently forgetting that he was a sick man.
Sore as I felt about the reproaches which had been so unjustly heaped upon me, I was interested for the welfare of the firm. I ran all the way to the two banks where we did our business. I was too late. At the two Mr. Whippleton had discounted about twelve thousand dollars' worth of the paper. I heard of him at several banks and offices, and as the notes of Collingsby and Whippleton were as good as gold in the market, he had no difficulty in negotiating them. Though I could not follow him everywhere that he had been, I was satisfied that he had turned the notes into cash. I could not find him, and I went to the counting-room for instructions, for I expected to find the senior partner there.
"Have you seen Mr. Whippleton, Robert?" I asked, when I found that the entry clerk was alone in the counting-room.
"He was here half an hour ago."
"Where is he now?"
"I don't know; he didn't say anything, but he had his overcoat on his arm."
"Has Mr. Faxon been in?"
"No; only Mr. Whippleton. What's the matter, Phil? Everybody seems to be in a stew to-day."
"There's an awful row brewing. What did Mr. Whippleton do?"
"He went to the safe, and looked over the pages of one of the books. What's the matter?"
"He has been using the money of the firm for his own speculations, and in my opinion he means to run away with all the cash he can put his hands on."
"Whew!" whistled the entry clerk.
"Didn't he hint where he was going?"
"No; he didn't hint that he was going anywhere; but I thought, from his having his overcoat, that he was going out in his boat."
It occurred to me that he would be more likely to leave the city in the Florina than by any other conveyance. He could sail in her when he pleased, and cover up his tracks very effectually. I promptly decided to visit the mouth of the river, where he kept his boat, and see if she was there. In the excitement of the morning, I had almost forgotten the treasure which Mrs. Whippleton had committed to my charge. I had put it into a drawer in the safe which was not in use. I had locked the drawer, and put the key with the others. I had sealed up the package, and written my own name upon it, so that I had no fear it would be taken by the junior partner. But he had exhibited a new phase of character on this eventful day, and I trembled as I unlocked the drawer. My fears were realized. The package was gone. Mr. Whippleton had taken it.
This was a serious catastrophe.
I felt like sinking through the floor when I realized the loss. If it had been my own I should have felt better. It was a sacred trust confided to me, and I reproached myself for putting it into the safe. Under ordinary circumstances, however, it would have been secure there. The treasure had been given to me in order to keep it from him into whose possession it had now fallen.
"What's the matter, Phil?" asked Robert, when he saw my grief and chagrin.
"I have lost a valuable package," I replied.
"Was it done up in white paper?"
"Yes."
"Mr. Whippleton took it from one of the drawers, and put it in his pocket."
"Did he open it?" I asked.
"No; not here."
I thought it was very strange that he should take a package, marked "private," with my name upon it. But nothing that he did could now be regarded as strange.
"When did he take it?" I inquired.
"Early this morning; as soon as you had gone to Mr. Collingsby's."
"The first time?"
"Yes; before nine o'clock."
It looked to me then just as though the villain knew the contents of the package.
"If Mr. Whippleton comes in again, Robert, don't lose sight of him for an instant. Follow him wherever he goes, if it is to the other side of the continent."
"Why—"
"Do as I tell you. I suppose Mr. Collingsby has the officers on his track by this time."
"You don't mean so!"
"Certainly I do; he has swindled the firm out of seventy or eighty thousand dollars; fifty, at least, after taking out his capital and profits. If Mr. Collingsby or Mr. Faxon comes in, tell him I have gone over to see where the boat is."
I rushed out of the counting-room almost frantic with excitement, for I confess that the loss of the package which had been specially committed to my care affected me much more deeply than the deficit of the junior partner. I hurried to the mouth of the river, and arrived there out of breath. The Florina was not at her moorings, and as I looked out upon the lake, I discovered her, at least three miles distant, running towards the Michigan shore. I had no doubt that the valuable package, and from thirty-five to forty thousand dollars of the firm's money, were in that light craft, which was flying so swiftly over the waves.
At the moorings lay Ben Waterford's boat; but her sails were loosed, and she seemed to be otherwise prepared for a cruise. As the current swung her round, I saw the name "Marian," in beautiful new gilt letters, upon her stern. It had been changed, doubtless, to suit the altered circumstances of her owner; but I sincerely hoped that Miss Marian would never become the wife of so reckless and unprincipled a man as I believed Ben Waterford to be.
"Here is your father's clerk. He will go with us," said a voice behind me.
I turned and saw Waterford attending Miss Collingsby. I had been tempted to take the Marian without leave or license, and give chase to the Florina; but I was too prudent to do so. The party of which I had heard Ben speak in the morning had not started at the time specified, and I judged, from the remark he made, that Miss Marian was carrying out her resolution not to go with him unless there was a party. I hoped they would not go, for I wanted to borrow the boat, and I applauded the young lady's firmness both for her own and my sake.
"Where is your sister?" asked Miss Collingsby.
"I don't know. She promised to be here an hour ago," replied Mr. Waterford. "Probably some friend has arrived, or something else has occurred to prevent her keeping her engagement. But here is Phil, your father's clerk. Won't you go if I take him?"
"I don't like to be the only lady," said she, looking upon the ground.
"We shall join Mr. Whippleton in a little while. He has two ladies on board with him—the Misses Lord."
"Florina?"
"Yes."
"Very well; if you can overtake Mr. Whippleton, and get Julia Lord to go with us, I shall be satisfied."
"Certainly; Julia will be very glad to sail with you."
"But the clerk must go."
That meant me; and as they intended to overtake Mr. Whippleton as soon as possible; the arrangement suited me. The junior partner of our firm was my "objective" just now, and I did not intend to lose sight of him until he had disgorged his ill-gotten gains.
"Will you go with us, Phil?" asked Ben Waterford, pleasantly.
"I shall be very happy to do so, if you will put me in the way of seeing Mr. Whippleton. I have very important business with him," I replied.
"We shall join him at once," added he, as he hauled the Marian up to the shore.
While he assisted Miss Collingsby to her seat, I hoisted the mainsail, and in a few moments we were standing out of the river.
CHAPTER XV.
IN WHICH PHIL GOES TO WORK IN THE COOK-ROOM OF THE MARIAN.
"All right, Phil; hoist the jib," said Mr. Waterford, as soon as we were out of the river.
I cleared away the jib and hoisted it, the skipper hauling aft the sheet, and trimming the sail. The wind was from the westward, rather light for one who was fond of a smashing time on the water, and it was one of the most perfect of summer days. The Marian was headed in the direction of her rival, which appeared to be working towards the south-east corner of the lake. My impression was, that Mr. Whippleton intended to land at this point, and take a train to the east. I was prepared to follow the instruction which I had given the entry clerk, and pursue the fugitive to the other side of the continent.
The Sail on the LakeThe Sail on the Lake.Page 171.
This boating excursion had been planned by Waterford and our junior partner, but of course it was not possible that the former knew the purposes of the latter; at least, such was my view of the matter at first, though I afterwards had occasion to change my mind. I was satisfied now, if I had not been before, that Mr. Whippleton meant to leave Chicago forever. He had done all the mischief in his power there, and to remain any longer would result in a mortifying exposure. Like other smart rogues, he had gathered together all he could, and was going to some distant locality to enjoy it.
Miss Collingsby had seated herself in the stern sheets of the boat, and was watching the waters that rippled under the counter. I thought she was not very well satisfied with herself for what she had done, and rather wished herself on shore again. If she knew her prudent and dignified father's opinion of Mr. Waterford, it would not have been strange that she was dissatisfied with herself.
"This is a magnificent day for a sail," said Mr. Waterford, gayly, as he glanced at his fair companion.
"Elegant," replied she, but in a tone which indicated that she was not in the full enjoyment of the sail or the day.
"Would you like to take the helm and steer, Miss Collingsby?"
"No, I thank you; not now."
"You enjoyed it so much when we sailed last time, that I thought you were cut out for a sailor."
"Half the pleasure of sailing is the company you have with you," added Marian.
"And you think you are losing one half of the pleasure of the present occasion?" said Mr. Waterford.
"I did not say that, but I did expect a lively party, as you told me you had invited half a dozen ladies and gentlemen."
"I did; and they all promised to come if it was possible," pleaded the skipper. "I am very sorry they did not, and that you are so much dissatisfied with your present company."
"Why, no, Mr. Waterford; I did not say that, and did not mean it," interposed Marian. "I only say that half the fun on the water is having a good lively party. You know what a nice time we had singing and chatting the last time we went."
"We had a pleasant time. I thought, from what you said, that you considered your present company rather disagreeable, and the excursion a failure."
"You know I did not mean any such thing as that, Mr. Waterford," said Marian, reproachfully. "You are very kind to invite me at all, and it is very ungrateful for me to say anything; but I do like a lively party."
"I am afraid it is only a selfish thing on my part," added the skipper, as he bestowed upon his beautiful companion a look of admiration, beneath which she blushed even as she gazed into the clear waters of the lake. "Phil," called he, turning to me.
"Here," I replied, springing up from my reclining posture on the forward deck.
"I wish you would hoist the new burgee. We ought to wear our gayest colors to-day."
"Where is it?"
"In the cabin after locker, starboard side. Run it up, if you please."
I went into the cabin, and found the flag. It was a gay affair, in bright colors, with the new name of the yacht inscribed upon it. I attached it to the halyards, and ran it up to the mast-head. Miss Collingsby took no notice of it, but continued to gaze into the water.
"What do you think of my new burgee, Miss Collingsby?" asked the skipper.
"It is very pretty indeed," she replied, with more indifference than it seemed quite polite to display. "It is as gay as the rest of the boat. You are fond of bright colors, Mr. Waterford."
"In a boat, I am. Do you see the name which is upon it?"
"Marian!" exclaimed she, after spelling out the name upon the flag. "What does that mean?"
"It is the name of the boat."
"Why, the last time I sailed in her, she was called the Michigan."
"That is very true, but she is called the Marian now," replied Mr. Waterford, trying to look very amiable and modest.
"That's my name."
"Certainly; and that's the reason why I gave it to my boat."
"Indeed, you do me a very great honor, and I am grateful to you for it."
"No; the honor is done to me, if you don't object to the name."
"Of course I cannot object to my own name."
"You may object to having it upon my boat."
"It is a very beautiful boat, and I am sorry you did not give it a better name."
"There is no better or prettier name in the whole world."
"I don't think so."
"I do," answered Mr. Waterford, with emphasis. "I was sick of the old name—the Michigan."
"Probably you will soon be sick of the new one—the Marian," added Miss Collingsby, still gazing into the water.
"Never!" protested the gallant skipper.
"I am afraid you will, as you were of the old one."
"Never, Miss Collingsby! Of course the name itself is but a word, but the association will cause me to cherish it forever."
"How very fine you talk, Mr. Waterford!"
"But I say just what I mean, and utter only what is nearest to my heart."
"It is a pity you were not a lawyer, for you always make out a very good case."
"I am afraid I should only succeed as a lawyer when I was interested in my client, as in the present instance."
"How long will it be before we overtake Mr. Whippleton?" asked Miss Collingsby, as though she deemed it prudent to change the conversation, which I thought was becoming just a little silly, as such talk always is to all but those who are immediately interested.
"That will depend upon which boat sails the fastest."
"You always said the Michigan—"
"No, the Marian," interposed the skipper. "Please to call the boat by her right name."
"Well, the Marian; you always said she was the fastest boat on the lake."
"I think so, though she has never had a fair trial with the Florina."
"I wish you would hurry her up, for I really wish to see Julia Lord, and have her in the boat with me. I suppose that neither Mr. Whippleton nor Florina will object to the transfer."
"Perhaps not. If any one has the right to object, I am the person," replied the skipper, in a low tone, though I heard what he said.
"You promised to provide me with company, or I should not have come," pouted Miss Collingsby, blushing.
"I hoped you would deem me sufficient company."
"Why, what impudence! I want the company of young ladies."
"But you don't object to my company—do you?"
"Certainly not, in your proper place, at the helm of the yacht."
Though I was not skilled at all in woman's ways, I thought the fair girl was struggling between two fires. She rather liked Mr. Waterford, on the one hand, and was very unwilling to commit herself by accepting any of his delicate attentions, or by appearing to be pleased by his compliments. In a word, I thought she liked him, but was afraid of him. He was, as I have before intimated, a very good-looking fellow, elegant and agreeable in his manners and speech. If he had been half as good as he looked, he would have been worthy the beautiful girl at his side. It was not very difficult for me to believe, after what I had heard her father say, that she had been warned against him, and that duty and inclination were struggling against each other in her mind.
"It is half past eleven, Phil," said Mr. Waterford, consulting his watch. "Shall we have any dinner to-day?"
"Certainly, if you desire it," I replied, presenting myself before the skipper in the standing-room.
"Whippleton says you are a cook, Phil. Is that so?"
"I can cook," I replied, modestly.
"Can you get up a dinner fit for a lady?" laughed Mr. Waterford.
"I can roast, bake, boil, broil, and fry. If the lady will be suited with any of these, I will do the best I can to please her."
"I thought you were my father's clerk," added Miss Collingsby.
"I am."
"How do you happen to know how to cook, then?"
"I was brought up on the upper Missouri, where we had to do our own cooking."
"Yes, Phil is a regular Indian fighter," laughed the skipper.
"What, this young man?"
"Yes, he has shot a thousand Indians in his day, and scalped them?"
"Phil?"
"Call it two or three," I added. "And we never were in the habit of scalping them."
"Don't spoil a good story, Phil."
"We used to speak the truth in the woods, even when we were joking."
"Well, don't be too severe on us. We only speak the truth here when we are addressing ladies."
"Just reverse the proposition, and it would be more correct," said Marian.
"What shall we have for dinner?" I asked.
"Miss Collingsby must settle that point," answered the skipper.
"Give us africandeau de veau, andbeignets de pomme."
"Nous n'avons pas des pommes," I replied.
"Is it possible! Do you speak French?" exclaimed Miss Collingsby.
"Un peu."
"Of course I did not mean what I said," laughed the gay young lady. "I will have just what you happen to have. I did not think any one would understand what I said."
"I certainly did not," added Mr. Waterford. "I know no language but English, and only a little of that."
"I think I can make africandeau," I continued, "if I have the material."
"We have beef, ham, mutton, pork, potatoes, bread, cake, and crackers on board."
"Let us have a plain beefsteak, then," said the lady.
"Avec pommes de terre, frits?" I asked.
"Oui, Monsieur Cuisinier. What a prodigy you must be, Mr. Phil! You can keep books, cook, and talk French."
"And sail a boat as well as the best of them," added Mr. Waterford. "By the way, Phil, have you any of those things on board that you mentioned?"
"What things?"
"I don't know."
"Pommes de terre," suggested Miss Collingsby.
"You said we had. I haven't looked over the stores."
"I said so? Not if I was awake."
"You stupid!" laughed the lady. "They are potatoes."
"O, are they? Then we have plenty of them. They say that a rose by any other name smells as sweet; and I suppose a potato in any other language tastes the same. Very well. Get up a good dinner, Phil; one fit for a queen—for a queen is to eat it."
"How silly!" said Miss Collingsby, as I went below.
"Better and fairer than any queen."
"I declare, Mr. Waterford, you are becoming insufferable. I shall have to go down there and help Phil get dinner. Besides, I want to talk French with him. And I want to see the kitchen."
I passed through the cabin into the little cook-room, in the forecastle, where I lighted the fire.