CHAPTER XIX.REINSTATED AND ARRESTED.TOTALLY unconscious of the storm arising so rapidly on his horizon, and the evidence that was being accumulated to prove him a thief, Myles Manning journeyed homeward that Saturday night in a comparatively cheerful frame of mind. Although he could not believe that his friend’s promised interview with Mr. Haxall would do the slightest good, or cause the city editor to take him back on the paper, still it was comforting to think that so powerful a friend was interesting himself in his cause.Why he thought of the old gentleman as a powerful friend he could not have told, for in fact he knew almost nothing about him. They had only met two or three times, and the other had so evidently avoided any reference to himself or his own affairs, that Myles felt it would be impolite to ask any questions concerning them. He knew that hisname was Saxon, that he was a graduate of X—— College, and that he was a particularly pleasant old gentleman to meet, but this was about all. So it now happened that, as he speculated concerning his friend, he was surprised to find how little knowledge he had of him.“He must be a man of influence, though, and connected with some extensive business, if he employs men by the thousand, and of course, if he wants to, he can give me work of some kind,” thought Myles.In his present frame of mind he would gladly have accepted almost any position in any line of business. He would rather it would be newspaper work than any thing else. At the same time he hated the thought of working on any paper except thePhonograph.“If they would only give me one more trial there!” he said to himself. “I shouldn’t care how or why they took me on again; I’d soon make them want to keep me for myself alone. Of course it would not be half so pleasant to have Mr. Haxall persuaded to try me again as to have him do so of his own free will; but I don’t suppose any thing except influence would get me back there again now.Well, Monday will soon be here, and then we’ll see what will happen.”In the little cottage that was now the home of the Manning family Myles found his mother sitting up and waiting for him. She held the front-door open as he reached it, and, after kissing him, and warning him not to make any noise that would wake his father, she said: “God bless you, my boy! we are all just as proud of you as we can be. Now go to bed, dear, for it is very late, and to-morrow we will have some nice long talks.” There was not a suspicion of blame or of disappointment in her tone or manner, and Myles went to his room with a very tender feeling toward those who loved and trusted him so implicitly.The next day they did have nice long talks, all of which ended in their taking the very brightest and most cheerful view of things. Kate pinned her faith to the “Oxygen gentleman.” “I don’t know why,” she said, “but somehow I feel sure he will do something splendid for you, Myles. Even if he shouldn’t, we have my plan of working together to fall back on; and the more I think of it the more I am inclined to believe we should make it succeed.”Mr. Manning listened to the several conversations without taking a very active part in them; but once, when he and Myles were alone in the room, he said:“You are learning one of the most difficult lessons of life, my son; but you seem to have set about it manfully, and I believe you will finally master it. When you do, you will have acquired a knowledge of infinite value. I mean a knowledge of self-control, self-reliance, and strict obedience to the orders of your own conscience.”Thus, in spite of the fact that he was wellnigh penniless and out of work, with no certain prospect of obtaining any sort of a position, Myles returned to the city, that bright autumn Monday morning, full of hope and determination.“I will have some sort of a place, as good if not better than the one I have lost before I come home again! See if I don’t!” was his mental exclamation.He went first to his lodgings. There the landlady informed him that a gentleman had called only a few minutes before, who said he wished to see him on important business, and had seemed greatly disappointed when told that he was out. He had offered to wait, but she told him he would be morelikely to catch Mr. Manning at the Phonograph office than anywhere else, and that he had better wait there.“Didn’t he leave any message?” asked Myles.“No; nor a card; and he wouldn’t even tell his name; for he said you would not know any better who he was if he did, but that he’d meet you somewhere during the day.”“I only hope he may,” said Myles, as he started up-stairs, “but I don’t think it is very likely.”“Oh, Mr. Manning,” called the landlady, “a letter came here for you by the mail this morning, and I laid it on your table.”“My prospects are certainly looking up,” thought Myles, who was not in the habit of receiving letters at any other place than the office—“a man on important business and a letter both in one morning. I wonder who the one could have been; and who the other is from? Perhaps it is from Mr. Saxon.”It was not from his old gentleman friend, however, but was from Mr. Haxall, and was written in thePhonographoffice on Saturday evening. It was of such an astounding nature to Myles that he could hardly believe he was reading it aright when he firstglanced over its contents. Again he read it through, and again, to make sure that there could be no mistake as to its meaning. Then he uttered such a shout of joy as startled his landlady in the distant, lowermost depths of the house. The letter was as follows:My Dear Mr. Manning:I want you to come back to thePhonographand report for duty as usual on Monday morning. If, during our interview of to-day, I seemed unnecessarily harsh or unjust, you will please lay the blame to my position rather than to myself. I cannot go beyond the rules of the office, which oblige me to take such action as I did in your case. You were undoubtedly guilty of a neglect of duty; but I am well satisfied that such a thing will not happen again in your case. Although you failed us in that single instance, your subsequent course was such as reflects great credit upon this paper, and I am convinced that you are one of the staff with whom we cannot afford to part. Therefore, if you will return at a salary of $25 per week, or, if you prefer it, on space, you will be cordially welcomed byYours very truly,Joseph Haxall,City editor, thePhonograph.“Glory hallelujah!” shouted Myles. “Go back? Of course I will! As a space man too. Well, if Joe Haxall isn’t a trump then I’m no judge. He certainly is the most just and honorable man I know.I’d just like to hear anybody say a word against him in my presence.“Mr. Brown, I’ll thank you for that key again if you please, sir.“Yes, Myles Manning, your fortune is made, and you have come out of what looked like a pretty ugly fix with flying colors.“My, but I’m glad that letter was written on Saturday, before there was a chance for any influence being used to get me back. How cheap a fellow must feel who, after once losing a job, only gets taken back through influence.”So thinking, and hardly able to contain himself for joy, Myles gathered together the papers he had brought away from thePhonographoffice and prepared to carry them back to it. In his own happiness he did not forget the anxiety of those at home, and his first care upon leaving the house was to hunt up a telegraph station. From it he sent a message containing the joyful news to his mother. Then he hurried down town.When he entered the city-room of thePhonographMr. Brown handed him the key to his desk as a matter of course. Mr. Haxall looked up from thereading of his morning papers long enough to shake hands with him and welcome him back. Nobody else knew that only two days before he had been dismissed in disgrace. The other reporters, most of whom supposed he had just returned from Mountain Junction, crowded about to congratulate him upon the manner in which he had saved the train with the 50th Regiment on board, and to ply him with questions as to the details of that affair. To those who considered that he had snubbed them on Saturday he made ample apologies, and explained that his apparent rudeness was caused by a piece of bad news of which he had then just heard.The first to learn of and congratulate him upon his new prospects was his stanch friend Rolfe, who had that morning returned from Chicago, and who, while shaking hands with him, said:“Now, old fellow, you will have a chance to show what you are made of. As a space man you will reap an instant pecuniary reward from every successful effort you make, exactly as any man does who is in business for himself. You also occupy the curious position that I do not believe exists except among newspaper reporters on space, of being underorders and at the same time able to render yourself absolutely independent of them.”Myles was so happy, and the future seemed so bright and secure to him, surrounded as he was by friendly faces, that he read Billings’ telegram with only a vague wonder as to what it could mean, and without a trace of anxiety. Ben Watkins seemed so very far away, and to belong so entirely to some remote period of his life, that Myles could only think of him with pity and contempt. He had it in his power to inflict a serious injury upon Ben Watkins, if he chose, by simply telling of that scene before the safe in the superintendent’s office; but what harm could Ben Watkins do him? None. Absolutely none. He had been guilty of but one wrong that Ben knew of, and that had already been amply atoned for and forgiven.As he reached this conclusion Myles lifted his eyes to those of a stranger who stood beside him, and who asked:“Is this Mr. Manning?”“Yes,” replied Myles, “it is.”“Mr. Myles Manning?”“Yes, that is my name. What can I do for you?”“You can come with me quietly and without any fuss. I am an officer, and have a warrant for your arrest on the charge of robbing a safe in the office of the A. & B. Railroad Company at Mountain Junction.”“I—charged with robbing a safe!” repeated Myles, slowly, and with a face so colorless that he looked as though about to faint. “Who dares bring such a charge against me?”“The charge is made, I believe, by Mr. Ben Watkins, assistant division superintendent at Mountain Junction. My instructions and the warrant for your arrest were forwarded by his uncle, the division superintendent at that place,” answered the detective.“Where do you want me to go with you?” asked Myles, with a wild look in his eyes and his face still deathly pale.“To the office of the president of the road first,” answered the officer, evasively. He thought it as well not to say just yet that he was instructed to deliver his prisoner to the authorities at Mountain Junction, where he would probably be locked up to await trial.“May I speak to the city editor for a moment?”asked poor Myles, whose brain was in such a whirl at this terrible accusation that he hardly knew what to say or do.“Certainly you may. I’m never hard on my prisoners so long as they act decently and behave themselves.”This conversation had been carried on in such low tones that none of the other reporters had caught a word of it. They saw, however, by Myles’ face that something very serious had happened to him, and they watched him curiously as he almost staggered toward the city editor’s desk.“Mr. Haxall,” he said abruptly, “that man over there is a detective, and has a warrant for my arrest on the charge of robbing a safe. What shall I do?”“Eh! what’s that?” exclaimed the city editor, startled for a moment from his ordinary self-possession.Myles repeated what he had said.“But of course it is all a mistake?”“Of course it is, sir.”Mr. Haxall beckoned to the officer, who at once stepped to the desk.“Don’t you think you have made some mistake,officer, and arrested the wrong person?” asked the former.“No, sir, not if this is Myles Manning, thePhonographreporter who was in Mountain Junction last week.”“Will you let me see your warrant?”“Certainly, sir,” said the officer, producing it.“Um; this seems to be straight enough,” said Mr. Haxall, glancing over it.“It was issued in Mountain Junction, I see.”“Yes, sir.”“Will the case be tried there?”“I believe so.”“Then I suppose you want to take Mr. Manning there?”“Yes, sir, those are my orders; but first I am to take him to the office of the president of the road.”“Well, Manning, my poor fellow, this seems to be a very serious business,” said Mr. Haxall, turning to Myles, who stood like one in a dream. “I don’t see that there is any thing for it but for you to go with this officer. You may rest assured, though, that you sha’n’t want for friends in this time of trouble. I will telegraph Billings to remain at Mountain Junctionuntil the matter is settled. Furthermore, as this charge reflects upon the good name of thePhonograph, as well as upon yours, I think I can safely say that no money will be spared to clear you of it.”With a voice that trembled in spite of his efforts to control it Myles thanked the city editor and turned away. He mechanically locked his desk and handed the key to Mr. Brown, from whom he had so proudly received it but a few minutes before; then, accompanied by the officer, he walked from the room without a word to any of his fellows, who gazed curiously and in silence after him.A few moments later, when the story spread among them, there was a general burst of indignation that they had permitted such an outrage as the arrest of one of their number to take place in that room. Had the detective reappeared just then he would in all probability have encountered an angry crowd of stout young fellows who would have promptly hustled him downstairs and out of the building.As it was, he and his prisoner were walking rapidly in the direction of Wall Street; he with a watchful eye on Myles, and Myles so full of bewilderedwretchedness as to be totally unconscious of whither he was being led.The clerks in the office of the great railroad company winked at each other as he passed them, for they all knew the detective by sight, and suspected that his companion must also be his prisoner. Myles however, never noticed them. He neither seemed to see nor notice any thing until the door of an inner office was closed behind him, and he found himself in the presence of his old gentleman friend, with whom he had dined two evenings before at the Oxygen Club.He uttered a cry of amazement. “Are you Mr. Walker B. Saxon, President of the A. & B. road?” he exclaimed.“I am,” was the reply; “and you may rest assured, my dear boy, that if I had known of this thing in time you should not have been subjected to the mortification of an arrest. I only heard of it an hour ago, and then I did not know but what the officer had already found you. I could only send orders to have you brought here before being taken to Mountain Junction. Now sit down and tell me your side of the story, and then we will see what can be done.”“But I don’t even know why I am arrested,” said Myles. “It is absurd to say that I robbed a safe. What am I supposed to have taken from it?”“An express package sent from this office and containing one thousand dollars.”“There wasn’t a sign of any such package in the safe,” exclaimed Myles, impetuously. “It only contained books and papers.”An anxious look flitted across Mr. Saxon’s face at this admission.“How do you know that?” he asked.The full import of what he had said flashed into Myles’ mind. The blood rushed to his face, and he hesitated a moment before asking in turn:“Does Ben Watkins accuse me of this crime?”“Not directly; but he intimates that you stole the key of the safe from his room, which amounts to about the same thing.”“Then I am released from my promise to him,” said Myles, “and am at liberty to tell you all I know of this miserable business.”Mr. Saxon listened with absorbed interest to the young reporter’s story of his visit to the superintendent’s office on that eventful night, of what tookplace there between him and Ben, of his taking possession of the key for safe-keeping, and of the manner in which he sent it back. It was a long story, and when it was finished the president’s face expressed a decided feeling of relief. He said:“My dear boy, I have studied your character carefully, much more so than you are aware of, during the past four months, and I am thankful to be able to tell you honestly that I believe every word you say. What a very foolish thing you did, though, in taking possession of that key! It undoubtedly saved property of great value to this company, but at the same time it placed you in the power of your enemy as no other act could have done.”“Yes,” assented Myles, “I see that only too plainly now.”“But you were short of money that night?” continued Mr. Saxon.“Yes, sir, I was.”“And had fifty dollars the next morning? Where did it come from?”Myles told him.“Have you that note signed ‘A friend in need’ now?”“No, sir; I lost both it and what money I had left after paying my hotel bill, on the night that I was trying to get back to town in time to warn the train.”“That’s bad. In fact, the whole combination of circumstances is the most unfortunate I ever knew. It will be very difficult to prove your innocence, though, of course, it will be done sooner or later. I would have the charge withdrawn and the whole matter hushed up even now, but for your sake. The accusation against you is already so widely known that nothing short of a public trial and triumphant acquittal can for a moment be considered. I will use my influence to have the trial come off at the earliest possible date, probably next week, and in the meantime I can think of nothing better for you to do than go quietly to Mountain Junction with the detective, procure bail, which I will see that you have no difficulty in doing, and spend the next few days in hunting up evidence for your own defence.”Thus, at four o’clock that afternoon, Myles found himself once more on his way to Mountain Junction. This time it was as a prisoner charged with robbing a safe and on his way to trial.
CHAPTER XIX.REINSTATED AND ARRESTED.TOTALLY unconscious of the storm arising so rapidly on his horizon, and the evidence that was being accumulated to prove him a thief, Myles Manning journeyed homeward that Saturday night in a comparatively cheerful frame of mind. Although he could not believe that his friend’s promised interview with Mr. Haxall would do the slightest good, or cause the city editor to take him back on the paper, still it was comforting to think that so powerful a friend was interesting himself in his cause.Why he thought of the old gentleman as a powerful friend he could not have told, for in fact he knew almost nothing about him. They had only met two or three times, and the other had so evidently avoided any reference to himself or his own affairs, that Myles felt it would be impolite to ask any questions concerning them. He knew that hisname was Saxon, that he was a graduate of X—— College, and that he was a particularly pleasant old gentleman to meet, but this was about all. So it now happened that, as he speculated concerning his friend, he was surprised to find how little knowledge he had of him.“He must be a man of influence, though, and connected with some extensive business, if he employs men by the thousand, and of course, if he wants to, he can give me work of some kind,” thought Myles.In his present frame of mind he would gladly have accepted almost any position in any line of business. He would rather it would be newspaper work than any thing else. At the same time he hated the thought of working on any paper except thePhonograph.“If they would only give me one more trial there!” he said to himself. “I shouldn’t care how or why they took me on again; I’d soon make them want to keep me for myself alone. Of course it would not be half so pleasant to have Mr. Haxall persuaded to try me again as to have him do so of his own free will; but I don’t suppose any thing except influence would get me back there again now.Well, Monday will soon be here, and then we’ll see what will happen.”In the little cottage that was now the home of the Manning family Myles found his mother sitting up and waiting for him. She held the front-door open as he reached it, and, after kissing him, and warning him not to make any noise that would wake his father, she said: “God bless you, my boy! we are all just as proud of you as we can be. Now go to bed, dear, for it is very late, and to-morrow we will have some nice long talks.” There was not a suspicion of blame or of disappointment in her tone or manner, and Myles went to his room with a very tender feeling toward those who loved and trusted him so implicitly.The next day they did have nice long talks, all of which ended in their taking the very brightest and most cheerful view of things. Kate pinned her faith to the “Oxygen gentleman.” “I don’t know why,” she said, “but somehow I feel sure he will do something splendid for you, Myles. Even if he shouldn’t, we have my plan of working together to fall back on; and the more I think of it the more I am inclined to believe we should make it succeed.”Mr. Manning listened to the several conversations without taking a very active part in them; but once, when he and Myles were alone in the room, he said:“You are learning one of the most difficult lessons of life, my son; but you seem to have set about it manfully, and I believe you will finally master it. When you do, you will have acquired a knowledge of infinite value. I mean a knowledge of self-control, self-reliance, and strict obedience to the orders of your own conscience.”Thus, in spite of the fact that he was wellnigh penniless and out of work, with no certain prospect of obtaining any sort of a position, Myles returned to the city, that bright autumn Monday morning, full of hope and determination.“I will have some sort of a place, as good if not better than the one I have lost before I come home again! See if I don’t!” was his mental exclamation.He went first to his lodgings. There the landlady informed him that a gentleman had called only a few minutes before, who said he wished to see him on important business, and had seemed greatly disappointed when told that he was out. He had offered to wait, but she told him he would be morelikely to catch Mr. Manning at the Phonograph office than anywhere else, and that he had better wait there.“Didn’t he leave any message?” asked Myles.“No; nor a card; and he wouldn’t even tell his name; for he said you would not know any better who he was if he did, but that he’d meet you somewhere during the day.”“I only hope he may,” said Myles, as he started up-stairs, “but I don’t think it is very likely.”“Oh, Mr. Manning,” called the landlady, “a letter came here for you by the mail this morning, and I laid it on your table.”“My prospects are certainly looking up,” thought Myles, who was not in the habit of receiving letters at any other place than the office—“a man on important business and a letter both in one morning. I wonder who the one could have been; and who the other is from? Perhaps it is from Mr. Saxon.”It was not from his old gentleman friend, however, but was from Mr. Haxall, and was written in thePhonographoffice on Saturday evening. It was of such an astounding nature to Myles that he could hardly believe he was reading it aright when he firstglanced over its contents. Again he read it through, and again, to make sure that there could be no mistake as to its meaning. Then he uttered such a shout of joy as startled his landlady in the distant, lowermost depths of the house. The letter was as follows:My Dear Mr. Manning:I want you to come back to thePhonographand report for duty as usual on Monday morning. If, during our interview of to-day, I seemed unnecessarily harsh or unjust, you will please lay the blame to my position rather than to myself. I cannot go beyond the rules of the office, which oblige me to take such action as I did in your case. You were undoubtedly guilty of a neglect of duty; but I am well satisfied that such a thing will not happen again in your case. Although you failed us in that single instance, your subsequent course was such as reflects great credit upon this paper, and I am convinced that you are one of the staff with whom we cannot afford to part. Therefore, if you will return at a salary of $25 per week, or, if you prefer it, on space, you will be cordially welcomed byYours very truly,Joseph Haxall,City editor, thePhonograph.“Glory hallelujah!” shouted Myles. “Go back? Of course I will! As a space man too. Well, if Joe Haxall isn’t a trump then I’m no judge. He certainly is the most just and honorable man I know.I’d just like to hear anybody say a word against him in my presence.“Mr. Brown, I’ll thank you for that key again if you please, sir.“Yes, Myles Manning, your fortune is made, and you have come out of what looked like a pretty ugly fix with flying colors.“My, but I’m glad that letter was written on Saturday, before there was a chance for any influence being used to get me back. How cheap a fellow must feel who, after once losing a job, only gets taken back through influence.”So thinking, and hardly able to contain himself for joy, Myles gathered together the papers he had brought away from thePhonographoffice and prepared to carry them back to it. In his own happiness he did not forget the anxiety of those at home, and his first care upon leaving the house was to hunt up a telegraph station. From it he sent a message containing the joyful news to his mother. Then he hurried down town.When he entered the city-room of thePhonographMr. Brown handed him the key to his desk as a matter of course. Mr. Haxall looked up from thereading of his morning papers long enough to shake hands with him and welcome him back. Nobody else knew that only two days before he had been dismissed in disgrace. The other reporters, most of whom supposed he had just returned from Mountain Junction, crowded about to congratulate him upon the manner in which he had saved the train with the 50th Regiment on board, and to ply him with questions as to the details of that affair. To those who considered that he had snubbed them on Saturday he made ample apologies, and explained that his apparent rudeness was caused by a piece of bad news of which he had then just heard.The first to learn of and congratulate him upon his new prospects was his stanch friend Rolfe, who had that morning returned from Chicago, and who, while shaking hands with him, said:“Now, old fellow, you will have a chance to show what you are made of. As a space man you will reap an instant pecuniary reward from every successful effort you make, exactly as any man does who is in business for himself. You also occupy the curious position that I do not believe exists except among newspaper reporters on space, of being underorders and at the same time able to render yourself absolutely independent of them.”Myles was so happy, and the future seemed so bright and secure to him, surrounded as he was by friendly faces, that he read Billings’ telegram with only a vague wonder as to what it could mean, and without a trace of anxiety. Ben Watkins seemed so very far away, and to belong so entirely to some remote period of his life, that Myles could only think of him with pity and contempt. He had it in his power to inflict a serious injury upon Ben Watkins, if he chose, by simply telling of that scene before the safe in the superintendent’s office; but what harm could Ben Watkins do him? None. Absolutely none. He had been guilty of but one wrong that Ben knew of, and that had already been amply atoned for and forgiven.As he reached this conclusion Myles lifted his eyes to those of a stranger who stood beside him, and who asked:“Is this Mr. Manning?”“Yes,” replied Myles, “it is.”“Mr. Myles Manning?”“Yes, that is my name. What can I do for you?”“You can come with me quietly and without any fuss. I am an officer, and have a warrant for your arrest on the charge of robbing a safe in the office of the A. & B. Railroad Company at Mountain Junction.”“I—charged with robbing a safe!” repeated Myles, slowly, and with a face so colorless that he looked as though about to faint. “Who dares bring such a charge against me?”“The charge is made, I believe, by Mr. Ben Watkins, assistant division superintendent at Mountain Junction. My instructions and the warrant for your arrest were forwarded by his uncle, the division superintendent at that place,” answered the detective.“Where do you want me to go with you?” asked Myles, with a wild look in his eyes and his face still deathly pale.“To the office of the president of the road first,” answered the officer, evasively. He thought it as well not to say just yet that he was instructed to deliver his prisoner to the authorities at Mountain Junction, where he would probably be locked up to await trial.“May I speak to the city editor for a moment?”asked poor Myles, whose brain was in such a whirl at this terrible accusation that he hardly knew what to say or do.“Certainly you may. I’m never hard on my prisoners so long as they act decently and behave themselves.”This conversation had been carried on in such low tones that none of the other reporters had caught a word of it. They saw, however, by Myles’ face that something very serious had happened to him, and they watched him curiously as he almost staggered toward the city editor’s desk.“Mr. Haxall,” he said abruptly, “that man over there is a detective, and has a warrant for my arrest on the charge of robbing a safe. What shall I do?”“Eh! what’s that?” exclaimed the city editor, startled for a moment from his ordinary self-possession.Myles repeated what he had said.“But of course it is all a mistake?”“Of course it is, sir.”Mr. Haxall beckoned to the officer, who at once stepped to the desk.“Don’t you think you have made some mistake,officer, and arrested the wrong person?” asked the former.“No, sir, not if this is Myles Manning, thePhonographreporter who was in Mountain Junction last week.”“Will you let me see your warrant?”“Certainly, sir,” said the officer, producing it.“Um; this seems to be straight enough,” said Mr. Haxall, glancing over it.“It was issued in Mountain Junction, I see.”“Yes, sir.”“Will the case be tried there?”“I believe so.”“Then I suppose you want to take Mr. Manning there?”“Yes, sir, those are my orders; but first I am to take him to the office of the president of the road.”“Well, Manning, my poor fellow, this seems to be a very serious business,” said Mr. Haxall, turning to Myles, who stood like one in a dream. “I don’t see that there is any thing for it but for you to go with this officer. You may rest assured, though, that you sha’n’t want for friends in this time of trouble. I will telegraph Billings to remain at Mountain Junctionuntil the matter is settled. Furthermore, as this charge reflects upon the good name of thePhonograph, as well as upon yours, I think I can safely say that no money will be spared to clear you of it.”With a voice that trembled in spite of his efforts to control it Myles thanked the city editor and turned away. He mechanically locked his desk and handed the key to Mr. Brown, from whom he had so proudly received it but a few minutes before; then, accompanied by the officer, he walked from the room without a word to any of his fellows, who gazed curiously and in silence after him.A few moments later, when the story spread among them, there was a general burst of indignation that they had permitted such an outrage as the arrest of one of their number to take place in that room. Had the detective reappeared just then he would in all probability have encountered an angry crowd of stout young fellows who would have promptly hustled him downstairs and out of the building.As it was, he and his prisoner were walking rapidly in the direction of Wall Street; he with a watchful eye on Myles, and Myles so full of bewilderedwretchedness as to be totally unconscious of whither he was being led.The clerks in the office of the great railroad company winked at each other as he passed them, for they all knew the detective by sight, and suspected that his companion must also be his prisoner. Myles however, never noticed them. He neither seemed to see nor notice any thing until the door of an inner office was closed behind him, and he found himself in the presence of his old gentleman friend, with whom he had dined two evenings before at the Oxygen Club.He uttered a cry of amazement. “Are you Mr. Walker B. Saxon, President of the A. & B. road?” he exclaimed.“I am,” was the reply; “and you may rest assured, my dear boy, that if I had known of this thing in time you should not have been subjected to the mortification of an arrest. I only heard of it an hour ago, and then I did not know but what the officer had already found you. I could only send orders to have you brought here before being taken to Mountain Junction. Now sit down and tell me your side of the story, and then we will see what can be done.”“But I don’t even know why I am arrested,” said Myles. “It is absurd to say that I robbed a safe. What am I supposed to have taken from it?”“An express package sent from this office and containing one thousand dollars.”“There wasn’t a sign of any such package in the safe,” exclaimed Myles, impetuously. “It only contained books and papers.”An anxious look flitted across Mr. Saxon’s face at this admission.“How do you know that?” he asked.The full import of what he had said flashed into Myles’ mind. The blood rushed to his face, and he hesitated a moment before asking in turn:“Does Ben Watkins accuse me of this crime?”“Not directly; but he intimates that you stole the key of the safe from his room, which amounts to about the same thing.”“Then I am released from my promise to him,” said Myles, “and am at liberty to tell you all I know of this miserable business.”Mr. Saxon listened with absorbed interest to the young reporter’s story of his visit to the superintendent’s office on that eventful night, of what tookplace there between him and Ben, of his taking possession of the key for safe-keeping, and of the manner in which he sent it back. It was a long story, and when it was finished the president’s face expressed a decided feeling of relief. He said:“My dear boy, I have studied your character carefully, much more so than you are aware of, during the past four months, and I am thankful to be able to tell you honestly that I believe every word you say. What a very foolish thing you did, though, in taking possession of that key! It undoubtedly saved property of great value to this company, but at the same time it placed you in the power of your enemy as no other act could have done.”“Yes,” assented Myles, “I see that only too plainly now.”“But you were short of money that night?” continued Mr. Saxon.“Yes, sir, I was.”“And had fifty dollars the next morning? Where did it come from?”Myles told him.“Have you that note signed ‘A friend in need’ now?”“No, sir; I lost both it and what money I had left after paying my hotel bill, on the night that I was trying to get back to town in time to warn the train.”“That’s bad. In fact, the whole combination of circumstances is the most unfortunate I ever knew. It will be very difficult to prove your innocence, though, of course, it will be done sooner or later. I would have the charge withdrawn and the whole matter hushed up even now, but for your sake. The accusation against you is already so widely known that nothing short of a public trial and triumphant acquittal can for a moment be considered. I will use my influence to have the trial come off at the earliest possible date, probably next week, and in the meantime I can think of nothing better for you to do than go quietly to Mountain Junction with the detective, procure bail, which I will see that you have no difficulty in doing, and spend the next few days in hunting up evidence for your own defence.”Thus, at four o’clock that afternoon, Myles found himself once more on his way to Mountain Junction. This time it was as a prisoner charged with robbing a safe and on his way to trial.
REINSTATED AND ARRESTED.
TOTALLY unconscious of the storm arising so rapidly on his horizon, and the evidence that was being accumulated to prove him a thief, Myles Manning journeyed homeward that Saturday night in a comparatively cheerful frame of mind. Although he could not believe that his friend’s promised interview with Mr. Haxall would do the slightest good, or cause the city editor to take him back on the paper, still it was comforting to think that so powerful a friend was interesting himself in his cause.
Why he thought of the old gentleman as a powerful friend he could not have told, for in fact he knew almost nothing about him. They had only met two or three times, and the other had so evidently avoided any reference to himself or his own affairs, that Myles felt it would be impolite to ask any questions concerning them. He knew that hisname was Saxon, that he was a graduate of X—— College, and that he was a particularly pleasant old gentleman to meet, but this was about all. So it now happened that, as he speculated concerning his friend, he was surprised to find how little knowledge he had of him.
“He must be a man of influence, though, and connected with some extensive business, if he employs men by the thousand, and of course, if he wants to, he can give me work of some kind,” thought Myles.
In his present frame of mind he would gladly have accepted almost any position in any line of business. He would rather it would be newspaper work than any thing else. At the same time he hated the thought of working on any paper except thePhonograph.
“If they would only give me one more trial there!” he said to himself. “I shouldn’t care how or why they took me on again; I’d soon make them want to keep me for myself alone. Of course it would not be half so pleasant to have Mr. Haxall persuaded to try me again as to have him do so of his own free will; but I don’t suppose any thing except influence would get me back there again now.Well, Monday will soon be here, and then we’ll see what will happen.”
In the little cottage that was now the home of the Manning family Myles found his mother sitting up and waiting for him. She held the front-door open as he reached it, and, after kissing him, and warning him not to make any noise that would wake his father, she said: “God bless you, my boy! we are all just as proud of you as we can be. Now go to bed, dear, for it is very late, and to-morrow we will have some nice long talks.” There was not a suspicion of blame or of disappointment in her tone or manner, and Myles went to his room with a very tender feeling toward those who loved and trusted him so implicitly.
The next day they did have nice long talks, all of which ended in their taking the very brightest and most cheerful view of things. Kate pinned her faith to the “Oxygen gentleman.” “I don’t know why,” she said, “but somehow I feel sure he will do something splendid for you, Myles. Even if he shouldn’t, we have my plan of working together to fall back on; and the more I think of it the more I am inclined to believe we should make it succeed.”
Mr. Manning listened to the several conversations without taking a very active part in them; but once, when he and Myles were alone in the room, he said:
“You are learning one of the most difficult lessons of life, my son; but you seem to have set about it manfully, and I believe you will finally master it. When you do, you will have acquired a knowledge of infinite value. I mean a knowledge of self-control, self-reliance, and strict obedience to the orders of your own conscience.”
Thus, in spite of the fact that he was wellnigh penniless and out of work, with no certain prospect of obtaining any sort of a position, Myles returned to the city, that bright autumn Monday morning, full of hope and determination.
“I will have some sort of a place, as good if not better than the one I have lost before I come home again! See if I don’t!” was his mental exclamation.
He went first to his lodgings. There the landlady informed him that a gentleman had called only a few minutes before, who said he wished to see him on important business, and had seemed greatly disappointed when told that he was out. He had offered to wait, but she told him he would be morelikely to catch Mr. Manning at the Phonograph office than anywhere else, and that he had better wait there.
“Didn’t he leave any message?” asked Myles.
“No; nor a card; and he wouldn’t even tell his name; for he said you would not know any better who he was if he did, but that he’d meet you somewhere during the day.”
“I only hope he may,” said Myles, as he started up-stairs, “but I don’t think it is very likely.”
“Oh, Mr. Manning,” called the landlady, “a letter came here for you by the mail this morning, and I laid it on your table.”
“My prospects are certainly looking up,” thought Myles, who was not in the habit of receiving letters at any other place than the office—“a man on important business and a letter both in one morning. I wonder who the one could have been; and who the other is from? Perhaps it is from Mr. Saxon.”
It was not from his old gentleman friend, however, but was from Mr. Haxall, and was written in thePhonographoffice on Saturday evening. It was of such an astounding nature to Myles that he could hardly believe he was reading it aright when he firstglanced over its contents. Again he read it through, and again, to make sure that there could be no mistake as to its meaning. Then he uttered such a shout of joy as startled his landlady in the distant, lowermost depths of the house. The letter was as follows:
My Dear Mr. Manning:I want you to come back to thePhonographand report for duty as usual on Monday morning. If, during our interview of to-day, I seemed unnecessarily harsh or unjust, you will please lay the blame to my position rather than to myself. I cannot go beyond the rules of the office, which oblige me to take such action as I did in your case. You were undoubtedly guilty of a neglect of duty; but I am well satisfied that such a thing will not happen again in your case. Although you failed us in that single instance, your subsequent course was such as reflects great credit upon this paper, and I am convinced that you are one of the staff with whom we cannot afford to part. Therefore, if you will return at a salary of $25 per week, or, if you prefer it, on space, you will be cordially welcomed byYours very truly,Joseph Haxall,City editor, thePhonograph.
My Dear Mr. Manning:
I want you to come back to thePhonographand report for duty as usual on Monday morning. If, during our interview of to-day, I seemed unnecessarily harsh or unjust, you will please lay the blame to my position rather than to myself. I cannot go beyond the rules of the office, which oblige me to take such action as I did in your case. You were undoubtedly guilty of a neglect of duty; but I am well satisfied that such a thing will not happen again in your case. Although you failed us in that single instance, your subsequent course was such as reflects great credit upon this paper, and I am convinced that you are one of the staff with whom we cannot afford to part. Therefore, if you will return at a salary of $25 per week, or, if you prefer it, on space, you will be cordially welcomed by
Yours very truly,
Joseph Haxall,
City editor, thePhonograph.
“Glory hallelujah!” shouted Myles. “Go back? Of course I will! As a space man too. Well, if Joe Haxall isn’t a trump then I’m no judge. He certainly is the most just and honorable man I know.I’d just like to hear anybody say a word against him in my presence.
“Mr. Brown, I’ll thank you for that key again if you please, sir.
“Yes, Myles Manning, your fortune is made, and you have come out of what looked like a pretty ugly fix with flying colors.
“My, but I’m glad that letter was written on Saturday, before there was a chance for any influence being used to get me back. How cheap a fellow must feel who, after once losing a job, only gets taken back through influence.”
So thinking, and hardly able to contain himself for joy, Myles gathered together the papers he had brought away from thePhonographoffice and prepared to carry them back to it. In his own happiness he did not forget the anxiety of those at home, and his first care upon leaving the house was to hunt up a telegraph station. From it he sent a message containing the joyful news to his mother. Then he hurried down town.
When he entered the city-room of thePhonographMr. Brown handed him the key to his desk as a matter of course. Mr. Haxall looked up from thereading of his morning papers long enough to shake hands with him and welcome him back. Nobody else knew that only two days before he had been dismissed in disgrace. The other reporters, most of whom supposed he had just returned from Mountain Junction, crowded about to congratulate him upon the manner in which he had saved the train with the 50th Regiment on board, and to ply him with questions as to the details of that affair. To those who considered that he had snubbed them on Saturday he made ample apologies, and explained that his apparent rudeness was caused by a piece of bad news of which he had then just heard.
The first to learn of and congratulate him upon his new prospects was his stanch friend Rolfe, who had that morning returned from Chicago, and who, while shaking hands with him, said:
“Now, old fellow, you will have a chance to show what you are made of. As a space man you will reap an instant pecuniary reward from every successful effort you make, exactly as any man does who is in business for himself. You also occupy the curious position that I do not believe exists except among newspaper reporters on space, of being underorders and at the same time able to render yourself absolutely independent of them.”
Myles was so happy, and the future seemed so bright and secure to him, surrounded as he was by friendly faces, that he read Billings’ telegram with only a vague wonder as to what it could mean, and without a trace of anxiety. Ben Watkins seemed so very far away, and to belong so entirely to some remote period of his life, that Myles could only think of him with pity and contempt. He had it in his power to inflict a serious injury upon Ben Watkins, if he chose, by simply telling of that scene before the safe in the superintendent’s office; but what harm could Ben Watkins do him? None. Absolutely none. He had been guilty of but one wrong that Ben knew of, and that had already been amply atoned for and forgiven.
As he reached this conclusion Myles lifted his eyes to those of a stranger who stood beside him, and who asked:
“Is this Mr. Manning?”
“Yes,” replied Myles, “it is.”
“Mr. Myles Manning?”
“Yes, that is my name. What can I do for you?”
“You can come with me quietly and without any fuss. I am an officer, and have a warrant for your arrest on the charge of robbing a safe in the office of the A. & B. Railroad Company at Mountain Junction.”
“I—charged with robbing a safe!” repeated Myles, slowly, and with a face so colorless that he looked as though about to faint. “Who dares bring such a charge against me?”
“The charge is made, I believe, by Mr. Ben Watkins, assistant division superintendent at Mountain Junction. My instructions and the warrant for your arrest were forwarded by his uncle, the division superintendent at that place,” answered the detective.
“Where do you want me to go with you?” asked Myles, with a wild look in his eyes and his face still deathly pale.
“To the office of the president of the road first,” answered the officer, evasively. He thought it as well not to say just yet that he was instructed to deliver his prisoner to the authorities at Mountain Junction, where he would probably be locked up to await trial.
“May I speak to the city editor for a moment?”asked poor Myles, whose brain was in such a whirl at this terrible accusation that he hardly knew what to say or do.
“Certainly you may. I’m never hard on my prisoners so long as they act decently and behave themselves.”
This conversation had been carried on in such low tones that none of the other reporters had caught a word of it. They saw, however, by Myles’ face that something very serious had happened to him, and they watched him curiously as he almost staggered toward the city editor’s desk.
“Mr. Haxall,” he said abruptly, “that man over there is a detective, and has a warrant for my arrest on the charge of robbing a safe. What shall I do?”
“Eh! what’s that?” exclaimed the city editor, startled for a moment from his ordinary self-possession.
Myles repeated what he had said.
“But of course it is all a mistake?”
“Of course it is, sir.”
Mr. Haxall beckoned to the officer, who at once stepped to the desk.
“Don’t you think you have made some mistake,officer, and arrested the wrong person?” asked the former.
“No, sir, not if this is Myles Manning, thePhonographreporter who was in Mountain Junction last week.”
“Will you let me see your warrant?”
“Certainly, sir,” said the officer, producing it.
“Um; this seems to be straight enough,” said Mr. Haxall, glancing over it.
“It was issued in Mountain Junction, I see.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Will the case be tried there?”
“I believe so.”
“Then I suppose you want to take Mr. Manning there?”
“Yes, sir, those are my orders; but first I am to take him to the office of the president of the road.”
“Well, Manning, my poor fellow, this seems to be a very serious business,” said Mr. Haxall, turning to Myles, who stood like one in a dream. “I don’t see that there is any thing for it but for you to go with this officer. You may rest assured, though, that you sha’n’t want for friends in this time of trouble. I will telegraph Billings to remain at Mountain Junctionuntil the matter is settled. Furthermore, as this charge reflects upon the good name of thePhonograph, as well as upon yours, I think I can safely say that no money will be spared to clear you of it.”
With a voice that trembled in spite of his efforts to control it Myles thanked the city editor and turned away. He mechanically locked his desk and handed the key to Mr. Brown, from whom he had so proudly received it but a few minutes before; then, accompanied by the officer, he walked from the room without a word to any of his fellows, who gazed curiously and in silence after him.
A few moments later, when the story spread among them, there was a general burst of indignation that they had permitted such an outrage as the arrest of one of their number to take place in that room. Had the detective reappeared just then he would in all probability have encountered an angry crowd of stout young fellows who would have promptly hustled him downstairs and out of the building.
As it was, he and his prisoner were walking rapidly in the direction of Wall Street; he with a watchful eye on Myles, and Myles so full of bewilderedwretchedness as to be totally unconscious of whither he was being led.
The clerks in the office of the great railroad company winked at each other as he passed them, for they all knew the detective by sight, and suspected that his companion must also be his prisoner. Myles however, never noticed them. He neither seemed to see nor notice any thing until the door of an inner office was closed behind him, and he found himself in the presence of his old gentleman friend, with whom he had dined two evenings before at the Oxygen Club.
He uttered a cry of amazement. “Are you Mr. Walker B. Saxon, President of the A. & B. road?” he exclaimed.
“I am,” was the reply; “and you may rest assured, my dear boy, that if I had known of this thing in time you should not have been subjected to the mortification of an arrest. I only heard of it an hour ago, and then I did not know but what the officer had already found you. I could only send orders to have you brought here before being taken to Mountain Junction. Now sit down and tell me your side of the story, and then we will see what can be done.”
“But I don’t even know why I am arrested,” said Myles. “It is absurd to say that I robbed a safe. What am I supposed to have taken from it?”
“An express package sent from this office and containing one thousand dollars.”
“There wasn’t a sign of any such package in the safe,” exclaimed Myles, impetuously. “It only contained books and papers.”
An anxious look flitted across Mr. Saxon’s face at this admission.
“How do you know that?” he asked.
The full import of what he had said flashed into Myles’ mind. The blood rushed to his face, and he hesitated a moment before asking in turn:
“Does Ben Watkins accuse me of this crime?”
“Not directly; but he intimates that you stole the key of the safe from his room, which amounts to about the same thing.”
“Then I am released from my promise to him,” said Myles, “and am at liberty to tell you all I know of this miserable business.”
Mr. Saxon listened with absorbed interest to the young reporter’s story of his visit to the superintendent’s office on that eventful night, of what tookplace there between him and Ben, of his taking possession of the key for safe-keeping, and of the manner in which he sent it back. It was a long story, and when it was finished the president’s face expressed a decided feeling of relief. He said:
“My dear boy, I have studied your character carefully, much more so than you are aware of, during the past four months, and I am thankful to be able to tell you honestly that I believe every word you say. What a very foolish thing you did, though, in taking possession of that key! It undoubtedly saved property of great value to this company, but at the same time it placed you in the power of your enemy as no other act could have done.”
“Yes,” assented Myles, “I see that only too plainly now.”
“But you were short of money that night?” continued Mr. Saxon.
“Yes, sir, I was.”
“And had fifty dollars the next morning? Where did it come from?”
Myles told him.
“Have you that note signed ‘A friend in need’ now?”
“No, sir; I lost both it and what money I had left after paying my hotel bill, on the night that I was trying to get back to town in time to warn the train.”
“That’s bad. In fact, the whole combination of circumstances is the most unfortunate I ever knew. It will be very difficult to prove your innocence, though, of course, it will be done sooner or later. I would have the charge withdrawn and the whole matter hushed up even now, but for your sake. The accusation against you is already so widely known that nothing short of a public trial and triumphant acquittal can for a moment be considered. I will use my influence to have the trial come off at the earliest possible date, probably next week, and in the meantime I can think of nothing better for you to do than go quietly to Mountain Junction with the detective, procure bail, which I will see that you have no difficulty in doing, and spend the next few days in hunting up evidence for your own defence.”
Thus, at four o’clock that afternoon, Myles found himself once more on his way to Mountain Junction. This time it was as a prisoner charged with robbing a safe and on his way to trial.