THE DOCTOR'S VISIT.
Two days later Frederic Vernon called. He found his aunt with Robert. The latter was writing to her dictation.
"Are you well, aunt?" he asked blithely.
"Yes, Frederic. This is an unusual time for you to call. Have you any special business with me?"
"Oh, no, aunt, but I happened to be passing. I have a friend with me. Will you allow me to introduce him?"
"Yes."
"Then I will go down and bring him up. I left him in the hall."
When her nephew left the room Mrs. Vernon said rapidly, "Stay here, Robert, when my nephew comes back. If the man with him is the same one you saw at the hotel make me a signal."
"Yes, Mrs. Vernon."
Frederic Vernon entered with his companion.
"Aunt," he said, "let me introduce my friend Mr. Remington. Remington, my aunt, Mrs. Vernon."
Mrs. Vernon bowed formally, and did not seem to see the outstretched hand of her nephew's companion. She scrutinized him carefully, however.
"Are you a business man, Mr. Remington?" she asked.
"No, madam," answered Remington hesitatingly.
"Professional then?"
"My friend Remington is a physician," said Frederic. "I should have introduced him as Dr. Remington."
"Perhaps you are a patient of his?"
"Oh, no," laughed Frederic. "I don't need any medical services."
"Nor I," said Mrs. Vernon quickly.
"By the way," said Frederic, turning toward Robert, "this is Mr. Frost, my aunt's private secretary."
Dr. Remington surveyed our hero closely.
"He is young for so important a position," he said.
"Yes, he is young, but competent and reliable," answered Mrs. Vernon.
"No doubt, no doubt! Probably you have known him for a long time, and felt justified in engaging him, though so young."
"Certainly I felt justified," said Mrs. Vernon haughtily.
"Oh, of course, of course."
The conversation continued for a few minutes, Mrs. Vernon limiting herself for the most part to answering questions asked by her nephew. She treated the stranger with distant coldness.
Presently Frederic Vernon arose.
"We mustn't stay any longer, Remington," he said. "We interrupted my aunt, and must not take up too much of her time."
"You are right," said the doctor. "Mrs. Vernon, I am very glad to have made your acquaintance."
Mrs. Vernon bowed politely, but did not otherwise acknowledge the compliment.
"Good-by, aunt," said Frederic lightly. "I will call again soon."
"When you find time," she answered coldly.
"Good-by, Robert," said Frederic, in an affable tone.
Robert bowed.
"Well, Remington," said Frederic when they emerged into the street. "What do you say?"
"I say that your aunt treated us both with scant courtesy."
"She reserves that for young Frost, her secretary. He is first favorite, and is working to make himself her heir."
"We will put a spoke in his wheel," said the physician. "I shall have no hesitation in giving you a certificate of your aunt's probable insanity."
"Good! I will see that you are properly compensated."
"That sounds very well, Frederic, but is too indefinite."
"What do you want, then?"
"If through my means your aunt is adjudged insane, and you come into her fortune, or get control of her estate, I want ten thousand dollars."
"Isn't that rather steep?"
"You say Mrs. Vernon is worth at least quarter of a million?"
"I judge so."
"Then what I ask is little enough. You must remember that I must get another doctor to sign with me."
"Very well, I agree," answered Vernon after a pause.
"Then I will undertake it. Be guided by me, and success is sure."
When the pair of conspirators had left her presence Mrs. Vernon remained for a short time silent and thoughtful. Robert watched her anxiously.
"I hope," he said, "you do not think there is cause for alarm."
"I do not know," she answered. "I am not so much alarmed as disgusted. That my own nephew should enter into such a plot is enough to destroy one's confidence in human nature."
"If my going away would lessen the danger----"
"No; I shall need you more than ever. I am not prepared to say just yet what I shall do, but I shall soon decide. We will stop work for this afternoon. I am going downtown to see my lawyer. I shall not need you till tea-time."
She left the room, and Robert, availing himself of his leisure, left the house also.
He was destined to a surprise.
On State Street, near the Palmer House, an hour later he came face to face with his step-father, now in the city for the first time since his illness. Robert had held no communication with the family since obtaining his new position, and James Talbot did not know where he was.
"Robert Frost!" he exclaimed in genuine surprise.
"Mr. Talbot," said Robert coldly.
"Are you still living in Chicago?" asked his step-father curiously.
"Yes, sir. Is my mother well?"
"As well as she can be, considering the waywardness of her son."
"What do you mean by that?" demanded Robert with spirit. "My only waywardness consists in resenting your interference with my liberty."
"I was only exercising my right as your step-father."
"My mother's act has made you my step-father, but I don't admit that it gives you the right to order me about."
"It is very sad to see you so headstrong," said James Talbot, in a mournful tone.
"Don't trouble yourself about me, Mr. Talbot. I feel competent to regulate my own affairs."
"I suppose you are working in some way?" said Talbot inquiringly.
"Yes, sir."
"I heard you had left Gray's office. For whom are you working? Are you in a store?"
"No, sir."
"You seem well-dressed. I hope you are doing well?"
"Yes."
"Have you any message for your mother?"
"Tell her I will write to her again soon. I ought to have done so before."
"You had better go home with me; I invite you to do so."
"I do not care to be under the same roof with you."
"It is sad, indeed, to see a boy of your age so refractory."
"Don't borrow any trouble on my account, Mr. Talbot. I will go home on one condition."
"What is that?"
"That you will leave the house."
"This is very improper and disrespectful. Of course I cannot do that. I shall remain to comfort and care for your mother."
"Then there is no more to say. Good-day, sir."
Robert bowed slightly, and passed on.
"I wish I knew what he was doing, and where he is employed," said Talbot to himself. "I would let his employer know how he has behaved to me. I wish he might lose his place and be compelled to sue for pardon."
When Robert met Mrs. Vernon at the supper table she said to him, "Robert, I have some news for you."
"What is it, Mrs. Vernon?"
"We start for New York to-morrow. We sail for Liverpool on Saturday."
FREDERIC VERNON'S PERPLEXITY.
There are few boys to whom the prospect of visiting Europe would not possess a charm. Robert was delighted by Mrs. Vernon's announcement, and readily agreed to assist her in the necessary preparations. Nothing occurred to interfere with their plans. They passed a single day in New York, where Mrs. Vernon purchased a large letter of credit, and Saturday saw their departure on a Cunard steamer bound for Liverpool.
It was on this very day that Frederic Vernon, again accompanied by his friend, Dr. Remington, called at the house on Prairie Avenue. The doctor recommended a second interview, in order that he might more plausibly give a certificate of insanity. No hint of Mrs. Vernon's projected trip had reached her treacherous nephew. A single servant had been placed in charge by Mrs. Vernon to care for the house, and guard against the intrusion of burglars.
"I suppose my aunt is at home, Martha," said Frederic blithely.
"No, Mr. Frederic, she has gone away."
"You mean she has gone into the city. When will she return?"
"I don't know."
"Why don't you know?"
"She has gone on a journey."
"Indeed!" said Remington, much disappointed. "Where has she gone?"
"She said she might go to California."
Martha had been instructed to say this, and did not know but it was true.
"Well, well! That is strange!" ejaculated Remington.
"What do you think of it, doctor?"
"It bears out our theory," responded the doctor briefly.
"It is very inconvenient," Vernon continued. "When did Mrs. Vernon start?" he inquired, turning to the girl.
"On Wednesday morning."
Remington's countenance fell.
"I suppose it will be of no use to remain longer, then," he said, as he descended the steps. "Is there no one of whom you can obtain information, Vernon?"
"My aunt has a man of business who looks after her investments. He will probably know."
"Let us go there, then."
Mr. Farley's office was on Dearborn Street. Frederic Vernon went there at once. Mr. Farley was a lawyer as well as a man of business, and Frederic had to wait half an hour while he was occupied with a client.
"Well, Mr. Vernon, what can I do for you?" he asked coldly, for the young man was not a favorite of his.
"I just called upon my aunt, and learned that she had departed on a journey."
"Precisely so."
"The servant thought she had gone to California. Is that correct?"
"Did she not write to inform you of her destination?"
"No, sir, she was probably too hurried. Of course you know where she is."
"Even if I did know I should not be at liberty to tell you. If your aunt has not informed you, she probably has her reasons."
Vernon flushed, and he found it hard to control his anger.
"Then you refuse to tell me?"
"I do not feel called upon to tell. Have you any special business with your aunt? If so, I will mention it in any letter I may have occasion to write."
"It seems to me this is a very foolish mystery."
"It is not for me, or for you, to comment upon or to criticise your aunt's plans," said the lawyer pointedly.
"Has Robert Frost, whom she employs as secretary, gone with her?"
"Possibly. She did not mention him in her last interview with me."
"Will you write me when you hear from her?"
"If she authorizes it."
"I will leave you my address."
There seemed to be nothing more to say, and Vernon left the office baffled and perplexed. He communicated what he had heard to Dr. Remington, whom he had not thought it advisable to take with him to Mr. Farley's office.
"What do you make of it, Remington?" he inquired.
"I don't know. Do you think Mrs. Vernon got any inkling of your scheme to have her adjudged insane?"
"How could she?"
"True. We have been very careful not to discuss the matter within the hearing of anyone."
"What can we do?"
"We must wait. You must find out where your aunt is before you can take any steps."
"Suppose she has gone to California?"
"We can follow her."
There was, however, one serious impediment in the way of going to California. Vernon used up his allowance as fast as he received it, and was even a little in debt. Again, California was a large place, and though probably his aunt might be in San Francisco, it was by no means certain. The money, however, was the chief consideration.
"How are you fixed financially, Remington?" asked Vernon.
"Why do you ask?"
"If you could lend me five hundred dollars we might start to-morrow."
"Where do you think I could raise five hundred dollars?" asked Remington coolly.
"I thought you might have it--in a savings bank."
"I wish I had, but even then I should consider it safer there than in your hands."
"I hope you don't doubt my honesty," said Vernon quickly.
"Well, I haven't the money, so there is no occasion to say more on the subject."
Vernon looked despondent.
"What do you advise me to do?" he asked.
"When does your next allowance come due?"
"On the first of next month."
"Three weeks hence?"
"Yes."
"Then you will have to wait till that time, unless you find some obliging friend who has more money than I."
"It's very vexatious."
"It may be for our advantage. Remember, it is not at all certain that your aunt is in California. You may get some light on the subject within a short time. Next week suppose you call in Prairie Avenue again. The servant may have heard something."
"True," responded Vernon, somewhat encouraged.
In a few days he called again, but Martha had heard nothing.
"It is hardly time yet," said Remington. "Next week you may have better luck. If your aunt is in California there would be time for her to get settled and write to you."
The next week Vernon ascended the steps of his aunt's house with a degree of confidence.
"I think I shall get some information this time," he said.
"Have you had a letter from my aunt yet?" he asked.
"No, Mr. Frederic."
His countenance fell.
"But I have received a note from Mr. Farley."
"What did he say?" asked Vernon eagerly.
"He said that he had had a telegram from my mistress and she was well."
"Did he say where she was?"
"No, sir."
"And you have no idea?"
"No, Mr. Frederic. I expect she is in California, as I told you."
"But why should she telegraph from California?"
This question was asked of his companion.
"I give it up," said Remington. "You might call on Farley again."
"I will."
The visit, however, yielded no satisfaction. The lawyer admitted that he had received a telegram. He positively refused to account for its being a telegram, and not a letter.
"But," said Vernon, "do you feel justified in keeping me ignorant of the whereabouts of my near relative?"
"Yes, since she has not thought it necessary to inform you."
"By the way, Mr. Farley," asked Vernon, after a pause, "can you kindly advance me a part of my next month's allowance?"
"It will all be payable within a week."
"True, but I have occasion for a little money. Fifty dollars will do."
"You must excuse me, Mr. Vernon."
As Frederic Vernon's available funds were reduced to twenty-five cents, this refusal was embarrassing. However, he succeeded in borrowing fifty dollars during the day from a broker who knew his circumstances, at five per cent. a month, giving the broker an order on Mr. Farley dated a week later.
The same evening found him in the billiard room of the Palmer House, playing a game of billiards with Remington.
Remington took up a copy of the New YorkHerald, and glanced over the columns in a desultory way. Something caught his eye, and he exclaimed in an excited tone, "Vernon, the mystery is solved. Your aunt is at the Charing Cross Hotel in London."
"You don't mean it?" ejaculated Vernon.
"See for yourself. Mrs. Ralph Vernon, Chicago; Robert Frost, Chicago."
Frederic Vernon gazed at his friend in stupefaction.
"I can't believe it," he muttered feebly.
ROBERT REACHES LONDON.
The ocean trip was more enjoyed by Robert than by Mrs. Vernon. For three days the lady was quite seasick, while her young secretary was not at all affected. He was indefatigable in his attentions to the invalid, and gained a stronger hold upon her affections.
"I don't know what I should do without you, Robert," she said on the third day. "You seem to me almost like a son."
"I am glad to hear you say this, Mrs. Vernon," returned Robert, adding with a smile, "if you had said I seemed to you almost like a nephew, I should not have been so well pleased."
"I should like to forget that I have a nephew," said Mrs. Vernon, with momentary bitterness. "I shall never forget his treachery and ingratitude."
Robert did not follow up the subject. Frederic Vernon's ingratitude to his aunt and benefactress seemed to him thoroughly base, but he did not care to prejudice Mrs. Vernon against him.
"I wish you were my nephew," continued Mrs. Vernon thoughtfully. "I cannot help contrasting your treatment of me to his."
"I have reason to be grateful to you," said Robert. "I was very badly situated when you took me in."
"I feel repaid for all I have done for you, Robert," said Mrs. Vernon. "But now go on deck and enjoy the bright sunshine and the glorious breeze."
"I wish you could go with me."
"So do I. I think I shall be able to accompany you to-morrow."
Mrs. Vernon felt so much better the next day that she was able to spend a part of the time on deck, and from that time a portion of every day was devoted to out-of-door exercise. She was able to walk on deck supported by Robert, who was never so occupied with the new friends he made among the passengers as to make him neglectful of his benefactress.
Mrs. Vernon, too, made some acquaintances.
"How devoted your son is to you, Mrs. Vernon," said Mrs. Hathaway, an elderly widow from the city of New York. "I wish I had a son, but alas! I am childless."
"So am I," said Mrs. Vernon quietly.
Mrs. Hathaway looked surprised.
"Is he not your son, then?"
"He is not related to me in any way."
"I am surprised to hear it. What then is the secret of your companionship?"
"He is my private secretary."
"And he so young! Is he competent to serve you in that capacity?"
"Entirely so. He is thoroughly well educated and entirely reliable."
"If you ever feel disposed to part with him, transfer him to me."
Mrs. Vernon smiled.
"Have you no near relatives, then?"
"No, I once had a son, who died about the age of your young secretary. I should be glad if you would transfer him to me. I am rich, and I would see that he was well provided for."
"I don't think I could spare him. I too am rich, and I can provide for him."
"If you change your mind my offer holds good."
Later in the day when they were together Mrs. Vernon said, "Robert, I don't know but I ought to increase your salary."
"You pay me more now than anyone else would."
"I am not sure of that. I have had an application to transfer you to another party."
"Any person on this steamer?"
"Yes; Mrs. Hathaway."
"Does she need a private secretary?"
"Probably not, but she says you are about the age of a son she lost. I think she wants you to supply his place. She is rich, and might do more for you than I am doing."
"I am quite satisfied with my present position. I do not want to leave you."
Mrs. Vernon looked gratified.
"I do not want to lose you," she said, "but I thought it only fair to speak of Mrs. Hathaway's offer."
"I am very much obliged to her, but I prefer to remain with you."
Mrs. Vernon looked pleased.
"I should be willing to transfer my nephew Frederic to Mrs. Hathaway," she said, "but I doubt if the arrangement would prove satisfactory to her."
The voyage was a brief one, their steamer being one of the swiftest of the Cunard liners, and a week had scarcely passed when they reached the pier at Liverpool. A short stay in Liverpool, and they took the train for London, where they took rooms at the Charing Cross Hotel. Robert was excited and pleased with what he saw of the great metropolis. He had his forenoon to himself. Mrs. Vernon had visited London fifteen years before, and had seen the principal objects of interest in the city. She rose late, and did not require Robert's presence till one o'clock.
"Go about freely," she said. "You will want to see the Tower, and Westminster Abbey, and the Houses of Parliament. I don't care to see them a second time."
"But I don't feel quite right in leaving you."
"Don't feel any solicitude for me. I am three times your age, and our tastes and interests naturally differ. When I need you, I shall signify it, but it will seldom be till afternoon."
In the afternoon they often took a carriage and drove in the parks or out into the country. So between the drives and his own explorations Robert was in a fair way of becoming well acquainted with the great metropolitan district.
One afternoon, about a week after their arrival, Mrs. Vernon said with a smile: "To-morrow morning I shall require your presence."
"Certainly, Mrs. Vernon."
"We will go out at eleven o'clock. It is on business of your own."
"Business of my own?" repeated Robert, wondering what it would be. "I will be ready."
At eleven o'clock Robert ordered a hansom cab, and the driver awaited directions.
"Do you know the office of Baring Brothers, bankers?" asked Mrs. Vernon.
"Yes, madam."
"Take us there."
It was on the firm of Baring Brothers that Mrs. Vernon had a letter of credit, and Robert concluded that she was intending to draw some money from them. He did not connect her errand with himself.
Arrived at the banking house, Robert remained in an outer room, while Mrs. Vernon was closeted with a member of the firm.
After twenty minutes Robert was called in.
"Robert," said Mrs. Vernon, "you will append your signature here."
"Then this is the young gentleman for whom you have established a credit with us?" said the banker.
"Yes, sir."
"He is very young."
"Sixteen years old."
"Do you wish him to have a guardian?"
"No. He is to have absolute control of the funds in your charge."
When they emerged from the banking house Mrs. Vernon said: "Robert, I will explain what probably mystifies you. I have placed to your credit with Baring Brothers the sum of four hundred pounds. It is at your own control."
Robert looked inexpressibly astonished. He knew that four hundred pounds represented about two thousand dollars in American money.
"What have I done to deserve such liberality?" he asked gratefully.
"You have become the friend that my nephew ought to have been. I am rich, as you are probably aware, and shall be unable to carry my money with me when I die. I might, of course, make a will, and leave you the sum I have now given, but the will would probably be contested by my nephew if he should survive me, and I have determined to prevent that by giving you the money in my lifetime. How far Frederic Vernon will be my heir I cannot as yet tell. It will depend to a considerable extent upon his conduct. Whatever happens, I shall have the satisfaction of feeling that I have shown my appreciation of your loyalty and fidelity."
"I don't know what to say, Mrs. Vernon. I hope you will believe that I am grateful," answered Robert warmly.
"I am sure of it. I have every confidence in you, Robert."
To Robert the events of the morning seemed like a wonderful dream. Three months before he had been wandering about the streets of Chicago a poor boy in search of employment. Now he was worth two thousand dollars, in receipt of a large income, and able to lay by fifty dollars a month. But above all, he was made independent of his step-father, whose attempts to control him were more than ever futile. This led him to think that he ought to apprise his mother of his present whereabouts and his health. He did not think it advisable to mention the large gift he had just received, or the amount of the salary he was receiving, though he had no doubt it would change the feelings of Mr. Talbot toward him. His step-father worshiped success, and if he knew that Robert was so well provided for he would do all that lay in his power to ingratiate himself with him.
After writing the letter to his mother, he wrote as follows to his fellow-clerk, Livingston Palmer, whom he had not informed of his European journey.
"Dear Friend Palmer," he wrote, "you will be surprised to hear that I am in London, and shall probably spend several months on this side of the water. I am still acting as private secretary to Mrs. Vernon, who continues to be kind and liberal. From time to time I will write to you. I inclose a ten-dollar bill as a present, and shall be glad to have you spend it in any way that is agreeable to yourself."Yours sincerely,"Robert Frost."
"Dear Friend Palmer," he wrote, "you will be surprised to hear that I am in London, and shall probably spend several months on this side of the water. I am still acting as private secretary to Mrs. Vernon, who continues to be kind and liberal. From time to time I will write to you. I inclose a ten-dollar bill as a present, and shall be glad to have you spend it in any way that is agreeable to yourself.
"Yours sincerely,"Robert Frost."
MATTERS AT HOME.
James Talbot was thoroughly put out by the way in which Robert had treated him when the two had met on the street in Chicago.
"That boy hasn't the least respect for me," was what he told himself bitterly. "I am afraid he will end up by making me a lot of trouble."
Before his sickness he had felt certain that he would get at least ten thousand dollars of the Frost fortune in his hands,--to be invested, so he had told Mrs. Talbot, in the real estate business in Chicago. What he was really going to do with the cash, the man had not yet decided. Certain it is, however, that neither Mrs. Talbot nor Robert would have ever seen a dollar of it again.
When James Talbot arrived home he was so out of humor that even his wife noticed it.
"You are not well again," she said.
"I met that boy of yours," he growled.
"You met Robert!" she exclaimed. "Where?"
"On the street, in Chicago."
"How was he looking?"
"Oh, he was well enough, madam. But let me tell you, that boy is going to the dogs."
"Oh, I trust not, James."
"I say he is."
"Did you two quarrel?"
"He quarreled; I did not. I invited him to come back home, and what do you think he said?"
"I cannot say."
"Said he wouldn't come back unless I got out. Said that to me, his legal step-father," stormed Talbot.
"I am very sorry you and Robert cannot get along," sighed the lady meekly.
"It's the boy's fault. He is a--a terror. He will end up in prison, mark my words."
"I do not think so," answered Mrs. Talbot, and to avoid a scene she quitted the room.
James Talbot was growing desperate, since the little money he had had of his own was nearly all spent. By hook or by crook he felt that he must get something out of his wife.
A few days later he concocted a scheme to further his own interests. Coming home from the post-office, he rushed into his wife's presence with a face full of smiles.
"Sarah, I have struck a bonanza!" he cried, waving a folded legal-looking document over his head.
"A bonanza?" she queried, looking up from her sewing in wonder.
"Yes, a bonanza. I have the chance to make half a million dollars."
"In what way?"
"By investing in a dock property in Chicago, on the river. My friend, Millet, put me on to the deal. The property is to be sold at private sale, and Millet and I are going to buy it in--that is, if we can raise the necessary cash."
"Is it so valuable?"
"We can get the property for twenty-five thousand dollars. It is right next to the docks of the Dearborn Iron Manufacturing Company. They wanted this land, but the owner quarreled with them and wouldn't let them have it. Now we can gather it in for about half its value, and it won't be a year before the iron people will offer us a fat sum for it."
"But if the iron people want it, why don't they get a private party to buy it in for them?" returned Mrs. Talbot.
"Oh, you women don't understand these things," answered James Talbot loftily. "Millet has the bargain clinched--if only we can raise the money."
"And how much will he raise?"
"Twelve thousand dollars. He wants me to put in the other thirteen thousand. My dear, you will lend me that amount, won't you? It would be a crime to let such a chance slip by."
"Don't you know that thirteen is an unlucky number?" said the lady slowly.
"Surely, Sarah, you are not as superstitious as all that. If you are, I'll get Millet to put up even with me--twelve thousand and five hundred each. But I would rather have the balance of the say in the matter."
"I am not superstitious, James, but--but----"
"But what? The money will be perfectly safe."
"I--I think I had better have a lawyer look into the deal first. There may be some flaw in the title to the property."
"No, that is all right--Millet had it examined. There is no time to spare, as the deal must be closed by noon to-morrow, or our option comes to an end."
"It is very sudden."
"And that is how fortunes are made, my love. The man of business watches his chances, and then seizes them before anybody else can get ahead of him."
Mrs. Talbot was doubtful, and tried to argue. But her husband seemed so positive that he at last won her over, and got her to make out a check for the thirteen thousand dollars.
"But be careful, James," she pleaded. "Remember, I do not consider this money really mine. At my death it must go to Robert."
"I shall be careful, Sarah, my love," he said. "Do not worry."
But to himself he thought: "That boy, always that boy! It will be a long day before he sets eyes on a cent of this money!"
He could hardly control his delight, but he did his best to calm his feelings before his wife.
The next day he was off for Chicago, stating that he would not be back again for several days.
Secretly, Mrs. Talbot was much worried over what she had done.
"I hope the investment proves a good one," she thought. "I would not wish to see the money lost. It must all go to Robert when I am gone." She never considered that the Frost fortune was her own, for hers was, as we know, only a life interest.
Two days later came a letter from Robert--not the one mailed from London, but one he had penned in New York before taking the trip on the ocean liner.
Mrs. Talbot was greatly interested in all her son had to say. She was glad he was enjoying good health, and pleased to know that he would write again on reaching the other side of the Atlantic.
On the same day that she received Robert's letter a visitor called upon her. It was William Frankwell, her lawyer, and a man who had at one time transacted all of Mr. Frost's legal business for him.
"You will excuse me for calling, Mrs. Talbot," said the lawyer, after the usual greeting. "But I thought it might be for your interest to drop in."
"I am glad to see you, Mr. Frankwell," she responded. "I was thinking of sending for you."
"Indeed. Was it about that check?"
"What do you know of the check?" she cried.
"I heard of it at the bank, and I thought----"
The lawyer paused.
"That it was rather unusual for me to put out a check of that size?"
"Exactly."
"Mr. Talbot is going to use it in buying a dock property in Chicago."
And she gave the lawyer what particulars she possessed regarding the transaction.
"If things are as you say, they are all right," said the lawyer.
"Mr. Frankwell, I wish you to look into the matter, and--and----"
"And see if everything is as represented," he finished.
"Yes. I am ashamed to own it, but my husband is--well, is not exactly what I took him to be," she faltered.
"I understand, perfectly, Mrs. Talbot," answered William Frankwell gravely. "I will do my best for you."
"I should not wish him to know that I am having an investigation made."
"He shall not know it--I give you my word on that."
And so they parted, and the lawyer set one of his clerks to watching James Talbot, to learn just what the man's underhanded work meant.
VERNON MAKES ANOTHER MOVE.
Frederic Vernon was much put out to think that his aunt had gone to England instead of to California.
"What do you think of this?" he asked of Dr. Remington.
"I think your aunt wanted to put you off the track," replied the physician.
"That she had no idea of going to California, even at first?"
"That's it."
"Do you think she suspects what we intend to do?"
"Perhaps," was the dry reply. "Insane people are quite crafty, you know."
"Oh, she must be insane, Remington."
"Well, I am willing to give a certificate to that effect, and I can get another doctor to back me up."
"But we can't touch her in England, can we?"
"I think not. You must try some means of getting her back to the United States."
"That is easy enough to say, but not so easy to do," returned Frederic Vernon gloomily.
"Make it necessary for her to return."
"How can I?"
"Do you know how her capital is invested?"
"In various investments,--banks, stocks, and bonds, besides some real estate."
"Why not write to her, saying that some of her money is in danger of being lost, and that she must return at once in order to take the necessary steps to save it?"
"By Jove, but that's a good idea!" ejaculated Frederic Vernon. "Remington, you have a long head on you. I'll write the letter at once."
"You must be very careful how you word it, otherwise she may smell a mouse, as the saying is."
"Yes, I'll look her interests up first and find out how they stand. I had a list which I kept after giving up being her secretary."
"Then you ought to be able to compose a first-rate letter."
"But how will I send it? I am not supposed to know where she is."
"Tell her you saw the notice in the newspaper."
"To be sure--I didn't think of that."
On returning to his bachelor apartments Frederic Vernon looked over the papers he had kept, which should have been turned over to Robert, and found that his aunt owned thirty thousand dollars' worth of stock of the Great Lakes Lumber Company, whose principal place of business was in Chicago. This stock had once dropped, but was now worth a little above par value.
"This will do," he murmured to himself, and sitting down to his desk, penned the following letter:
"My Dearest Aunt:"I was very much surprised to learn about a week ago that you had left Chicago for parts unknown. I suppose you are off on a little trip, and do not want to be worried about business or anything else. I thought you were in California, and was much surprised to see, by the New YorkHerald, that you are in London."I called at your home to tell you about the Great Lakes Lumber Company. Quite by accident I overheard a talk between the president of the concern and some stockholders, and learned that they intend to freeze out some of the other stockholders, including yourself. I heard the president say, 'We'll get that woman out, even if we don't get anybody else out.'"Under such conditions, I would advise you to return to Chicago at once, and then I will tell you all of the details, so that you can proceed against the company without delay and save yourself."I am in the best of health, and about to accept a fine business opening with one of the leading railroads. I trust you are also well, and that your ocean trip does you a world of good."Devotedly your nephew,"Frederic Vernon."
"My Dearest Aunt:
"I was very much surprised to learn about a week ago that you had left Chicago for parts unknown. I suppose you are off on a little trip, and do not want to be worried about business or anything else. I thought you were in California, and was much surprised to see, by the New YorkHerald, that you are in London.
"I called at your home to tell you about the Great Lakes Lumber Company. Quite by accident I overheard a talk between the president of the concern and some stockholders, and learned that they intend to freeze out some of the other stockholders, including yourself. I heard the president say, 'We'll get that woman out, even if we don't get anybody else out.'
"Under such conditions, I would advise you to return to Chicago at once, and then I will tell you all of the details, so that you can proceed against the company without delay and save yourself.
"I am in the best of health, and about to accept a fine business opening with one of the leading railroads. I trust you are also well, and that your ocean trip does you a world of good.
"Devotedly your nephew,"Frederic Vernon."
"There, what do you think of that?" asked Vernon of Remington, when the two met on the following morning.
"It's pretty strong," was the physician's answer. "If the president of that company got hold of the letter he could make you sweat for it."
"But he shan't get hold of it. As soon as my aunt comes back, I'll confiscate the letter,--and I'll look to you to do the rest."
"I am ready to do all I can. If we work the deal properly, we'll have her in a private asylum inside of forty-eight hours after she returns."
The letter was duly addressed to Mrs. Vernon, in care of the Charing Cross Hotel, London, and Frederic carried it down to the post-office so that it might start on its long journey without delay.
"I suppose I'll have to wait at least two weeks now," said Vernon dolefully. "It's a long time, but it cannot be helped."
He was waiting patiently for the time to come when he might draw his allowance from Mr. Farley.
Promptly on the day it was due he called at the lawyer's office.
He expected seven hundred and fifty dollars--a quarter of his yearly allowance of three thousand dollars, but instead, Mr. Farley offered him a hundred and fifty dollars.
"Why, what does this mean?" demanded the young man, who could scarcely believe the evidence of his eyesight.
"You ought to know better than I, Mr. Vernon," replied the lawyer quietly.
"Don't I get my usual allowance?"
"No; Mrs. Vernon has instructed me to give you a hundred and fifty dollars monthly after this."
"Why, that is only eighteen hundred a year!"
"You are right, sir."
"But I was getting three thousand."
For answer to this Mr. Farley merely shrugged his shoulders.
"It is an outrage!" went on the young man.
"If you don't want to take the money you don't have to," said the lawyer coldly. He was utterly disgusted with Frederic Vernon's manner.
"I'll have to take it," groaned Vernon. "But how I am to live on a hundred and fifty a month I don't know."
"At your age I would have been glad to have had half that amount per month, Mr. Vernon."
"You were not in society as I am, Mr. Farley."
"You are right there--and I am glad of it."
"I don't think my aunt has any right to cut me down in this fashion."
"Is she called upon to allow you anything?"
The shot told, and Frederic Vernon's face grew red.
"I am her nearest relative."
"I know that."
"Blood ought to count for something."
"I agree with you."
"I have always done my best to further my aunt's interests."
"You were her secretary for awhile, I believe."
"I was, until she took in an upstart of a boy in my place."
"Young Frost seems to be a nice young man."
"He is a snake in the grass. He has prejudiced my aunt against me."
"I know nothing about that."
"Then you cannot possibly let me have more money?" asked Vernon, as he arose to go.
"No; I cannot. Will you sign for the check or not?"
"I will sign," was the desperate answer, and, having done so, the young man took the check and hurried off with it.
"Matters have come to a pretty pass," he hissed between his set teeth when on the street once more. "Who knows but what she'll soon cut me off altogether. I hope she comes home as soon as she gets my letter, and that we get her into a private asylum without any trouble."
An Unexpected Result.
"Two letters for you, Mrs. Vernon," said Robert, as he came to the lady one fine day after a drive in the park.
"Thank you, Robert," she replied, and gazed at the writing on the envelopes. "I declare one is from my nephew Frederic!"
"Why, I thought he didn't know where you were," replied the youth.
"I wasn't aware that he did know. I told nobody but Mr. Farley."
"Then perhaps the lawyer told him," suggested our hero.
"No, Mr. Farley is too discreet for that. The second letter is from him."
Without delay Mrs. Vernon opened Frederic's communication and read it. Robert saw by her face that she was greatly perplexed.
"This is too bad!" she murmured.
"No bad news, I hope, madam?" said Robert.
"It is bad news. Read the letter for yourself," and Mrs. Vernon passed it over.
While Robert read Vernon's letter, the lady perused the communication from her lawyer. It was on several matters of business, but one passage will certainly interest the reader.
"I have followed your directions and had your nephew watched," wrote Mr. Farley. "He is very thick with Dr. Remington, and the pair seem to have some plot between them. Will write again in a few days."
"I have followed your directions and had your nephew watched," wrote Mr. Farley. "He is very thick with Dr. Remington, and the pair seem to have some plot between them. Will write again in a few days."
"Well, Robert, what do you think of Frederic's letter?" asked Mrs. Vernon, as she put her lawyer's epistle away.
"Do you want me to speak frankly?" replied our hero.
"Certainly."
"Then let me say that I think it is merely a ruse to get you to come home."
"Do you really think so?"
"I do. Your nephew knows he can do nothing while you are out of his reach."
"I have thought of that--in fact, that is why I came to England. If I go back, what do you suppose he will do?"
"Hire that Dr. Remington to put you into an asylum, and then try to get control of your money."
"Then you do not advise me to go back?"
"No, indeed; at least, not until you have proved to your own satisfaction that what he writes is true."
"I might get Mr. Farley to investigate."
"Then that is just what I was going to suggest. As he is authorized to transact all business for you, he can probably do as much as if you yourself were on the ground."
"Yes, I know, but----" Mrs. Vernon paused and flushed up.
"You hate to expose your family affairs, even to Mr. Farley," interposed Robert. "That is too bad, certainly, but I don't see how it can be helped. Sooner or later the truth must come out."
"I am willing to let Mr. Farley know all--in fact, he knows a good deal already. But the world at large----"
"Then tell Mr. Farley to investigate in private. One thing is sure, I wouldn't go back if I were you."
"I don't know but what you are right, Robert. But, oh, it is terrible to think one's relative is so treacherous," concluded Mrs. Vernon, and she could scarcely keep from weeping.
Robert did his best to cheer her up, and then she sat down and dictated a long letter to Mr. Farley, asking him to investigate the charge against the Great Lakes Lumber Company without delay. This letter Robert posted before going to bed.
Although rather strong appearing, Mrs. Vernon was in reality quite a delicate woman, and worrying over her nephew's doings soon told on her. She grew pale, and hardly ate at all when she came to the table. Robert was quick to notice the change.
"London air doesn't seem to agree with you," he remarked one morning. "Don't you think a change might be of benefit?"
"I was considering the question of leaving the city," replied the lady. "Perhaps it would be as well for us to take quarters in some pretty town up the Thames. I would like to find some place where the driving and boating are both good."
"I am sure it will be an easy matter to obtain what we want if we hunt around a little," said Robert.
A few days later they left London and removed to Windsor, where the royal palaces are located. Here they remained two days, and then settled down at a pretty town which I shall call Chishing, located on a small bluff overlooking the Thames at a point where the river was both wide and beautiful.
Their new boarding place was a pretty two-and-a-half story affair, with a long, low parlor, and an equally long and low dining hall. It was kept by Mrs. Barlow, a stout, good-natured English woman, who did all in her power to make her visitors comfortable. They had two rooms, which, while they did not connect, were still side by side, and both overlooked the river, and a pretty rose garden besides.
"I know I shall like it here," said Mrs. Vernon, as she sat by the window of her apartment, drinking in the scene one day at sunset. "Robert, what do you think?"
"I will like it, too, for awhile."
"I suppose you are thinking of home."
"I must admit I am. To tell the truth, I am afraid my mother is not very happy."
"I fear you are right." Mrs. Vernon sighed. "With your mother, it is her husband, while with me, it is my nephew. Ah, if only everything in this world would go right for once!"
"Well, we have to take things as they come, and make the best of them," replied our hero.
The next day there was a letter for him from his mother. In this Mrs. Talbot mentioned his communications, and told how she had come to let her husband have the thirteen thousand dollars. She concluded by stating that she was afraid she had made a big mistake.
"I am certain she has made a big mistake," said Robert to himself. "Mr. Talbot will never give the money back, and I know it. I think she is doing enough by supporting him. I don't believe he has done a stroke of work since he was sick."
Robert soon felt at home, and on the third day went down to the river to take a row, a pastime of which he had been fond while at home.
As he passed to the dock where boats could be hired, he ran plump into a red-headed boy named Sammy Gump. Sammy was strong and heavy set, and had been the bully of Chishing for several years.
"Hullo, Yankee, where are you going?" he demanded, as he pushed Robert roughly.
"I am going to attend to my own business," replied our hero quietly. "Have you any objection?"
"Dreadful fine clothes you have got; oh, dear!" smirked Sammy. "We are dressed for the ball, we are!"
"Let me pass," demanded Robert, and tried to go around the bully, who suddenly pushed him, and tried to trip him in the dust of the road.
But for once Sammy Gump had reckoned without his host, for although he sent Robert staggering several yards, our hero did not fall.
Gump expected Robert to beat a retreat, and was taken aback when the boy came forward with clenched fists.
"What do you mean by treating me like that?" demanded Robert.
"Oh, go along with you!" howled the bully. "If you don't like it, do the other thing."
"You are mighty impudent about it."
"Am I?" sneered Sammy. "Say, Yankee, how do you like that?"
And he slapped Robert on the cheek.
If our hero was surprised that instant, the bully was more surprised the instant after, for hauling back, Robert let fly with his fist, and took Sammy Gump fairly and squarely in the mouth, a direct blow that landed the bully flat on his back and loosened two of his teeth.
"Wh--what did yo--you do that for?" he spluttered, as after an effort he arose and glared at Robert.
"To teach you a lesson, you overgrown bully," replied Robert. "The next time, I imagine, you will know enough to leave me alone." And then he passed along to the dock to hire the rowboat.
Sammy Gump glared after him in baffled rage. "All right; you just wait," he muttered. "Nobody ever struck me yet but what he didn't rue it afterward!"
VERNON'S HIGH-HANDED PROCEEDINGS.
Frederic Vernon found it very hard to cut down his expenses. He had so accustomed himself to luxurious living that to give up any of the good things of life was to him worse than having a tooth pulled.
Yet it was absolutely necessary that he do something, for his rent was due, and his tailor had threatened to sue him unless at least a part of the bill for clothing was paid.
Returning from Mr. Farley's office he found his landlord waiting for him.
"Good-morning, Mr. Vernon," said the landlord stiffly. "I called for the quarter's rent for your apartments."
"I am very sorry, Mr. Brown," replied Vernon smoothly. "But I will have to ask you to wait until next week. My banker----"
"I can't wait any longer, Mr. Vernon," was the quick rejoinder. "You promised to settle to-day."
"Yes, but my banker disappointed me, and----"
"Then you cannot pay?"
"No."
"Then I am ordered by the owner of the building to serve you with a notice to quit," said Mr. Brown quietly.
At this Frederic Vernon was thunderstruck. He, one of the leading society lights of the city, served with a notice to quit his bachelor apartments! It was preposterous, scandalous!
"Mr. Brown, do you know who I am?" he demanded, drawing himself up to his full height.
"Certainly. Mr. Frederic Vernon."
"Exactly, sir, and a member of one of our first families, sir."
"I can't help that, sir. The owner of this building expects his money from the first family tenants as well as from the others."
"You are--er--a--a----"
"No use to quarrel about it, Mr. Vernon. You must pay, or I will serve the notice."
A wordy war followed, but Mr. Brown was obdurate, and to avoid being set out on the street Frederic Vernon paid him fifty dollars on account, and promised to settle the balance inside of ten days. Then the young man walked into his parlor, threw himself into an easy chair, lit a Havana cigar, and gave himself up to his reflections.
But not for long, for five minutes later there was a knock on the door and opening it, he found himself confronted by Mr. Simon Moses, his tailor.
"Ver sorry, inteet, to disturb you, Mr. Vernon," said the tailor, who was a Hebrew, "but I come to see if you vould pe so kind as to bay up dot pill you vos owin' me for der last seex months."
"No; I haven't got any money now," growled Vernon. "Come next week."
"Dot is oxactly vot you say las' veek, und de veek pefore, Mr. Vernon. Dot pill is long oferdue, and I vos need mine monish."
"So do I need my money, but I can't get it, Mr. Moses. I've got six thousand dollars owing me for a month, and can't get a cent of it."
For the moment the Hebrew was astonished, then a crafty look came into his eyes.
"Maype you vill sign ofer von of dem claims to me, hey?" he suggested. "Chust enough to cofer mine pill, see?"
"No, I can't do that. Call in ten days and I will pay up in full."
"Dot is positive?"
"Do you doubt the word of a gentleman?"
"Very vell, I vill call chust ten days from to-day. And if you no bay up den, I will go and see your rich aunt about dot pill." And with this parting shot Simon Moses left the apartments, banging the door after him. Going to the door, Vernon locked it.
"Nobody else shall disturb me," he thought, and sat down to finish his smoke. "So he will go to my aunt, eh? Ha! ha! I guess he'll have something of a job to locate her, especially if Martha tells him she is in California."
The days passed, and Vernon waited impatiently for a letter from his aunt. He felt almost certain that she would write, stating she would be back by the first available steamer. When the time was past and no letter came, he began to grow suspicious.
"Perhaps she didn't get the letter," suggested Dr. Remington. "She may have left Charing Cross Hotel, you know."
"More than likely young Frost got the letter and destroyed it," answered Vernon. "I should have sent it in care of Mr. Farley. He may have some secret way of communicating with her."
"Well, don't worry too much. You may get a letter before the week is out," concluded Remington, and there the matter dropped and the two sallied off to waste several hours in drinking and in playing billiards. Remington had no visible means of support, but managed to squeeze out a living by sponging from those who were richer than himself. It was true he now got very little out of Vernon, but he was living in the hope that the plan against the rich aunt would be carried through, and he would become ten thousand dollars richer by the operation.
The mail steamer had brought no letter for Vernon, but it had brought a very important communication for Mr. Farley, and after reading it carefully the lawyer decided to act without delay. He was acquainted with Richard Anderson, the president of the Great Lakes Lumber Company, fairly well, and knew him to be a pillar of the church and in sound financial standing.
With proper delicacy the lawyer approached the subject at hand, and Richard Anderson listened in amazement.
"It is absurd to think there is anything wrong with our company, Mr. Farley," said the gentleman, with spirit. "If Mrs. Vernon thinks so all she has to do is to put her stocks on the market, and I will buy them up at two per cent. above par value. How did such a silly rumor ever reach her ears?"
"I hardly feel justified in stating how the rumor started."
"But I must demand it of you, Mr. Farley. Why, such a report, if it spread, might do our company a tremendous harm."
"I agree with you on that point."
"Tell me the truth, and I will see that you do not suffer through it."
"I do not want Mrs. Vernon to suffer."
Richard Anderson thought for a moment, then leaped to his feet.
"Tell me, did that report come from that fool of a nephew of hers?" he demanded.
"What makes you think it might come from him?"
"Because I heard that he was angry at her for leaving Chicago and not letting him know where she had gone to. The young fool let it out at one of the clubs when he was half full of liquor."
"Well, if you must know, it did come from Vernon. But don't let on that I told you," said the lawyer.
"The scoundrel! Farley, do you know what I think of doing?"
"Don't have him arrested. It will break Mrs. Vernon's heart."
"I won't. But I'm going to thrash him within an inch of his life, the puppy!"
"You can do as you see fit on that score." And Mr. Farley could not help but smile.
"Where does he live, with his aunt?"
"No, he has bachelor quarters at the Longmore."
"Very well. He shall hear from me before to-morrow night. I'll take some of his baseness out of him."
"Don't get yourself into trouble," was Mr. Farley's warning as he arose to go.
"Oh, I won't murder him, rest easy about that," returned Richard Anderson grimly.
On his way home that night he stopped at a harness store and asked to see the whips.
"I want something short, and with a good, stinging lash," he said.
"Got a bad horse to deal with, eh?" said the salesman.
"Yes, the worst colt in the city."
"All right, sir, here you are. That will fetch him, I'll warrant you."
"How much?"
"One dollar."
"That will do." Richard Anderson paid the money and had the whip wrapped up.
"Now, Frederic Vernon, I'll wager I'll make you face the music to-morrow," he muttered, as he took a car for home. "If I don't lay this on well it will be because I've forgotten how, and I guess a man don't forget these things very easily."