"The way affairs are ordered in this world bangs me completely. The things we long for and dream about, and which we think are absolutely necessary for our happiness, we can't get; and those we don't care a cent for, are crowded on us."
It was George Ackerman who said this. He took possession of one of the chairs on the guard and waved his hand to Tony Richardson who was just entering the pilot-house of the steamer that was to carry him back to St. Louis.
"Now there's Gus Robbins," continued George, as he pushed his hat on the back of his head and elevated his feet to the top of the rail. "From the little I heard of his history I gained the idea that he ran away from Foxboro' because he had to work in his father's store. He didn't like the business, and rather than follow it he was willing to trust himself to the tender mercies of Ned Ackerman, who went squarely back on him the very first chance he got. If Gus had had any sense at all, he ought to have known that he couldn't spend his whole life in visiting with Ned, that he would have to go to work again some time or another, and that there was nothing on the plains that a dry-goods clerk could do. I wonder where he went? If he could have heard the way in which Ned talked about him while we were on the way from Brownsville to Galveston, he would never have anything more to do with him."
We may anticipate events a little by saying that Gus never did have anything more to do with Ned, but he had a good deal to do with George—more, in fact, than he wanted to do. But George proved himself a faithful friend, and saved Gus from passing some of the best years of his life in prison.
The young pilot spent a few minutes more in thinking about Gus, wondering where he went when he left Ned so suddenly in Brownsville, and then his thoughts came back to Tony. It was the conversation he had had with the latter a short time before that set George to meditating in this way.
"And now here's another discontented boy," said he, to himself. "I know he has everything on earth that any reasonable fellow could ask for, with one single exception—his own way; and if he could get it, it would be the worst thing that ever happened to him. He wants just what I've got and don't care for—liberty to do as he pleases; and I want just what he's got, but which I never shall have—a kind father and mother. That's what makes me say that the things we want the most we can't get. If I could trade places with Tony, how long would it be before he would want to trade back again?"
While George was communing thus with himself, a sprucely-dressed, but rather dissipated-looking young man, mounted the steps that led to the boiler-deck, and stopped short when he discovered the cub-pilot sitting on the guard. He looked sharply at him for a moment, while an expression of anxiety settled on his face.
"What evil genius sent that fellow here?" said he, to himself. "He knows too much about me, and I don't believe it is safe to have him around. Look here, partner," said he, stepping up and laying his hand upon George's shoulder, "this boat will not start until Monday afternoon."
The words and the touch aroused George from his reverie, and raising his eyes to the face above him, he was surprised to see that it belonged to an old acquaintance—the same young man who had tried to induce him to surrender Mr. Black's pocket-book into his hands, instead of giving it to its lawful owner. He had never seen nor heard of him since leaving the General Quitman.
"I know it," replied George, "but how does it come that you know so much?"
He did not like the arrogant tone in which the young man addressed him, and he took this way to show it.
"Being chief clerk of this craft, I am supposed to know something about her and her contemplated movements," was the young man's reply.
"O, you have charge of the office, have you?" said George. "I wasn't aware of the fact."
"You are not going down the river with us, are you?"
"Well—yes; I have been thinking about it."
"Then you had better go ashore and wait until we are ready to start. We don't keep a hotel, and we are not going to board you two whole days for nothing. The truth is, I don't want him hanging around where he can say something that would injure me," thought the clerk, as he turned on his heel and walked away. "He looked at me pretty sharp, but I don't believe he recognised me. If I thought he did, I should be in suspense during the whole trip."
"He's a conceited little up-start," soliloquised George. "He has never had charge of an office before, and it hurts him. It'll not take me long to give him to understand that he has nothing to do with me."
George was at first inclined to be angry with the clerk for his unwarrantable assumption of authority. He had been on the river long enough to know that when a steamer is lying in port, no objection is ever made to the company of any orderly person. If a visitor chooses to sit on the guards, and watch the boats that are running up and down the river, and enjoy the cool breeze, he is welcome to do so. If he wants to ride up to the coal-fleet on her, he is at liberty to do that also; but he is generally warned that he had better get off unless he is willing to walk back. Of course, no passengers are received previous to the day of sailing, but they are free to come aboard and look about as much as they please.
"I have as much right aboard this boat as he has," thought George, "but of course, he didn't know that. Taking me for a passenger, he thought he would show off a little. No; that can't be the reason, either. He knows that I am the fellow who found Mr. Black's pocket-book, and that was his way of showing that he hates me, because I wouldn't give it up to him. I wonder if Mr. Richardson's agent knows that he drinks and gambles? Probably not; for if he did, he wouldn't trust him to handle any of the boat's money. He wants to go easy on me, or I shall let him know that I remember his doings aboard the Quitman."
George kept his place on the guard until the supper-bell rang, and then he went into the barber shop. After washing his hands and face, and brushing his clothes, he came out and took his seat at the table. One of the waiters pulled his chair out for him, and, as it happened, seated him next to the clerk, who stared at him as if he was greatly amazed at his impudence.
"Tea or coffee, sah?" said the waiter.
"Hold on there!" exclaimed the clerk. "Have you got a ticket, young fellow?"
"Tea," answered George; while the waiter smiled at what he regarded as a pleasantry on the part of the first clerk. Only those passengers who have paid their fare are served at table; and to show that they are square with the office, it is customary for them to place their tickets beside their plates, so that the waiters can see them.
"Beefsteak or mutton chop, sah?" continued the darkey.
George gave his order; and when the waiter had gone off with his plate, he thrust his hands into his vest pockets, as if he were searching for his ticket.
"I guess you haven't got one," said the clerk. "I know you haven't paid your fare to me."
"I don't seem to find anything that looks like a ticket, that's a fact," said George, "but I'll take supper with you, all the same. I wouldn't be too hard on an old acquaintance, if I were you."
"You are no acquaintance of mine," said the clerk, whose face grew a shade paler than it usually was.
"But I have seen you before, anyway," persisted George. "I met you on the Quitman, and we had a talk about a pocket-book I found on the roof. I believe that, in a roundabout way, you rather gave me credit for restoring it to its owner. I didn't think then, that you and I would ever be attached to the same vessel, for I didn't know that you were a riverman."
"O, you belong here, do you?" exclaimed the clerk.
"I do. My place is in the pilot-house."
"Why didn't you say so, without so much fooling?"
"Why didn't you ask me, if you cared to know?" said George, in reply. "You ordered me ashore without taking the trouble to make any inquiries. I think that settles him," added the young pilot, mentally. "I have frightened him, judging by the looks of his face."
Yes, the clerk was "settled," but not in the way that George supposed. As we know, this young man, when he came up the river on the General Quitman, six months before, had lost at the gambling-table a thousand dollars of the money he had collected for his employer. If he could have induced George to give Mr. Black's pocket-book to him, he could have replaced that money, and had something left for himself; but he failed in this and got himself into trouble the moment he reached St. Louis. His employer promptly discharged him from the lucrative position he held, and gave him his choice between refunding the sum he had lost and standing an action for embezzlement. Of course, he preferred to return the money, but it was only after infinite trouble that he succeeded in raising it, his father, to whom he first applied, refusing to aid him in any way. When at last he procured the help he needed, it was through representations as to his financial standing that would hardly have borne investigation in a court of law. He was also obliged to make promises that he could not keep, and to give a note that he could not meet when it became due. He had agreed to return the money he had borrowed in three months, with a heavy interest added. How he was going to fulfil that agreement was a problem over which he had often racked his brain, and to assist him in finding a way out of his troubles, and to make his mind clearer, he regularly and frequently sought the aid of something stimulating which the barkeeper fixed up for him. He had at last arrived at the conclusion that there was no way in which he could extricate himself from the difficulties with which he was surrounded, and he had almost made up his mind that he would not return with the boat to St. Louis—that he would abscond somewhere along the river and leave his creditors to whistle for their money. This was the way the clerk was situated on the night that he and George Ackerman sat at the supper-table in the cabin of the Telegraph; and we have been thus particular in describing it in order that the reader may readily understand what happened afterward.
"Now, here's a kettle of fish," soliloquised the clerk, twisting uneasily about on his chair. "This fellow knows me, and worse than that, he is going down the river with us. I wonder if he knows old Richardson? If he does, I must either get him off the boat or make a friend of him; for if he should take it into his head to tell what happened on board the Quitman, I should lose this berth as sure as I am a living man."
The clerk did not linger as long at the table as he usually did, and neither did he again speak to George. He seemed to be thinking busily, and the expression on his face indicated that the subject upon which he was meditating was not an agreeable one. But at length he assumed a more cheerful look, and as he arose from the table, he said to himself—
"I think I had better let him stay and try to make a friend of him. If I can only do that, I can put myself square with the world once more, and at the same time take revenge on him for getting me into this scrape. For he is the one that is to blame for it. Why didn't he hand over that pocket-book when I offered him a reward for it? My first hard work must be to get on his blind side—make him believe that I am trying to reform, and all that. He is one of those pious fellows who neither drink nor smoke, and I must go to work at him in a pious way."
Just then, the young pilot sauntered out of the cabin, and turned toward his chair on the guard; but when he saw that another close by it was occupied by the clerk, who was smoking a cigar, he walked in another direction. He did not like Murray—that was the clerk's name—and he did not want to have anything to do with him. It would have been well for him, if he had held to this resolution; but he allowed himself to be talked out of it, and it required something that came pretty near being a tragedy, to straighten matters out for him.
"Don't go away mad," said Murray, when he saw George moving off toward the other side of the boat. "Since we are to be shipmates for one trip at least, let's be sociable. Sit down here and talk to a fellow."
The young pilot could not well refuse. He sat down in his old place, and of course, put his feet upon the rail. All the men and boys who sat on the guards made it a point to do that.
"I didn't recognise you when I first saw you," said the clerk, "but I knew you as soon as you spoke about that pocket-book. Most fellows would have taken the reward I offered you, and got themselves into trouble by it. I didn't know you were a cub. You were not attached to the Quitman, were you?"
"No; but I made a bargain with Mr. Black during the trip, and I have been with him ever since," replied George.
"Have a weed?" asked Murray, producing his cigar-case.
"I am obliged to you, but I don't smoke."
"You don't use tobacco or liquor in any form, do you?"
George replied that he never had and never would.
"I wish from the bottom of my heart that I could say the same thing," said Murray. "I am a total abstainer now so far as liquor is concerned, but tobacco gets me. It would be useless for me to make any pretensions to goodness in your presence, for you know more about my habits than I wish you did. You saw the company I kept on board the Quitman; and I don't mind telling you, confidentially, that I came pretty near getting myself into a row by it. If I could only keep away from the bar, I should soon be better off in the world than I am now."
"Then, why don't you do it?" asked George.
"Ah! That's just it. Why don't I? How shall I go to work?"
"Begin by throwing away that cigar," said George promptly.
"There she goes!" exclaimed Murray; and as he spoke, the cigar left his hand and went over into the barge among the coal.
"Now," continued George, "say that you will never go near the bar again, and stick to it. That's all there is of it."
"Yes; it's a very easy thing to say, but it's an almost impossible thing to do. You don't know how hard it is for a fellow who is bound down by the chains of habit, to keep a resolution like that. Why, bless you, I have made it a thousand times and broken it as often. I took my last pledge three months ago, and up to this time I have kept it; but I may go back on it before I am an hour older. If some old friend should come along and say: 'Murray, have something?' I'd go with him without thinking. It is a sort of second nature to me. I wish I could be thrown more into the society of such fellows as you are, and less into the company of rivermen. Nine out of ten of them spend their money as fast as they make it, and that's what keeps them on the river."
George leaned his elbows on the railing, rested his chin on his hands, and looked down at the men who were at work in the barge, but made no reply. The longer he listened to Mr. Murray, the less he liked him.
"Now, you can do me a great favor, if you will," continued the clerk, "one that I shall always remember, although I shall never be able to repay it. I wish you would stay by me as much as you can while you are off duty. Make the office your headquarters. Come in at any hour of the day or night—I shall not always be at work, you know—and if you hear anybody invite me to take a short walk with him, just tip me the wink. That will put me in mind of my pledge and help me to decline the invitation."
"But will you decline?" asked George. "Won't you go, anyhow?"
"Of course I'll not go; I'll decline every time. All I want is somebody close at my elbow to keep my pledge constantly in mind. If you will do that for me during this trip, I am sure that by the time it is ended I shall have fallen into the habit of saying 'No,' and then I shall be all right. To tell you the truth, there's a good deal depending upon your answer," added Murray, who thought by the expression on George's face that he did not much like the part he was expected to perform. "My bad habits have lost several very fine positions for me, and if I don't break them off, I shall lose this and every other one I get. But I have tried it often enough to know that I can't abandon them without help. What do you say?"
"I say that I will do anything I can to help you," was George's answer.
"Thank you!" exclaimed Murray. George's reply argued well for the success of certain plans upon which he had determined, and he could scarcely conceal his exultation. "By the way," he added, "are you on speaking terms with Mr. Richardson?"
"I am quite intimate with Tony, who steered this boat up here for me to-day, but I am not much acquainted with his father, although I have visited at his house by Tony's invitation."
"Well, you'll not say a word to him, or anybody else, about what happened on board the Quitman?" said Murray.
"Not a word."
"All right. I am done with tobacco, liquor and cards for ever," said the clerk, with great determination "I'll rub it all out, and begin over again; turn over a new leaf, and see if I can't make a clean record for myself."
The two sat there on the guards for a long time talking in this way, Mr. Murray apparently being very communicative and confidential, while George was exactly the reverse, and finally they bade each other good-night and separated to their rooms.
"The plan works very well so far," thought Murray, as he locked the door of the office behind him, and sat down to take another smoke. "Ackerman is rather suspicious of me, and I shall have hard work to gain his confidence. I am afraid that the greatest trouble will be to get him in the habit of loafing about the office. If I can do that, I'll see that he puts his foot into a very pretty trap. He got me into this scrape, and he must help me out."
"He doesn't seem to be a bad fellow at heart," thought George, as he tumbled into his bunk in Texas; "but I must say that he's mighty palavering, and that his face is almost too red and bloated for that of a man who has stuck to the pledge for three consecutive months, as he claims to have done. I hope he is in earnest in his desire to reform, and if I can help him by giving him a wink now and then, I shall be perfectly willing to do it."
It was not long after that before the officers of the boat began to tell one another that the chief clerk and Mr. Black's cub had taken a wonderful liking for each other. George was in the office almost all the time, and when the Telegraph left the coal-fleet on Monday morning, and went back to the city, Murray steered her down for him. As soon as she was made fast alongside the wharf-boat, George went ashore to make a few purchases, and when he came back, he found the clerk full of news.
"Ackerman," said he, as the young pilot entered the office and threw down a copy of a morning paper, which Murray had requested him to buy for him, "I am sorry to say that Tony Richardson has steered the Telegraph for you for the last time."
"Why, what do you mean?" exclaimed George. "Has he—has any misfortune befallen him?"
He was about to ask if Tony had run away, but checked himself just in time.
"I mean just what I say," answered Murray. "On Saturday morning the Armada took one of Vandegriff's barges down the river so that she could coal up while she was under way, and Tony went in charge of the barge to check the coal and bring back the money. The tug that Vandegriff sent down the river found the barge and brought it back yesterday morning, but there was no Tony with her."
"Yes, sir; he's run away," thought George, climbing upon the high stool and staring blankly at the clerk.
"I don't wonder that you are astonished," continued Murray. "So is everybody. Poor Tony is at the bottom of the river, beyond a doubt, but he gave a good account of himself before he went there, for both the mokes came back with broken heads."
"Great goodness!" exclaimed George, almost tumbling off the high stool in his excitement. "Then he didn't—do you mean to say that the negroes threw him overboard?'
"Certainly; they are in jail for it now; but the money can't be found. They acknowledge that they made an effort to rob Tony, but declare that they didn't hurt him at all. They say that he jumped into the skiff that was towing alongside the barge, and got away with the money; they couldn't swim a stroke, and therefore they were obliged to stay with the barge until the tug took them off. The general impression seems to be that they knocked Tony down with a chunk of coal and robbed him, and that he died from the effects of the blow. Becoming frightened at what they had done, they threw the body overboard, hid the money, and made up this story to lessen their punishment."
"If they did that, they didn't show much sense in staying with the barge," said George, as soon as he could speak. "Why didn't they get into the skiff and go ashore?"
"I can account for that only on the supposition that the skiff was lost while the Armada was towing the barge down the river," answered Murray. "If Tony ran off with it, as the darkies say he did where is he? If he had rode up the river, he would have met the tug, and if he had tied up to the bank, he would have seen her when she passed him. When the captain of the tug saw the negroes' heads and listened to their story, he was so certain that they had killed Tony, that he tied them hard and fast, and never wasted a minute in looking for the boy, although he kept up a constant whistling, which Tony would certainly have heard if he had been able to hear anything."
George was so deeply affected by this gloomy news that he could not eat any dinner. He visited the tug, which lay at a little distance down the levee, sought an interview with her captain, and after telling him that he was Tony's friend, questioned him closely in regard to his disappearance, but without learning anything more than Murray had already told him.
"It's my opinion," said he, as he walked slowly back to his boat, "that we shall hear more of this matter some day. If the money wasn't gone, I should feel certain that Tony had cleared out; but somehow I can't bring myself to believe that he would steal funds to help him along. I don't think he's that sort."
The missing boy was constantly in George's mind during the next few days. He and Murray talked about little besides the mystery attending his disappearance, and meanwhile their intimacy increased to such a degree that the officers of the boat began to speak of them as the "twins." Murray never lost sight of the object he had in view in working his way into the young pilot's good graces, and circumstances seemed to conspire to help him. He took particular pains to have it known among the officers that he had "sworn off" on everything that was bad, and that George was the one who had induced him to do it. As a consequence the invitations to visit the bar that he received were numerous and frequent. They were given principally in George's presence, but he was never obliged to tip Murray the wink, for the latter seemed to be always on his guard. This made George believe that he had wronged the clerk by thinking that his desire to reform was not sincere, and the result was that he gave him his entire confidence, and put implicit faith in everything he said. He spent almost all his time when off duty in the office, and whenever Murray could snatch a quarter of an hour from his work, he was always to be found in the pilot-house.
The Telegraph reached her journey's end in due time, her freight was discharged in good condition, her heavy bills were paid, and the money deposited in the safe, of which Mr. Murray carried the key. In a few days she was steaming back up the river, with a large passenger list and a lot of other freight stowed away on the main deck and in the hold. Now the chief clerk began to show signs of nervousness and excitement. Every turn of the paddle-wheels brought him nearer to St. Louis, and to the creditors whom he would have to face when he got there. His situation being a desperate one, he had determined upon desperate measures to get him out of it. If his plans failed, he was doomed.
"You say I look worried," remarked Murray, one day, when he and George and Walker, the second clerk, were alone in the office; "and so would you, Ackerman, if you had my responsibility resting on your shoulders. I don't mind telling you in Walker's presence, because it is all in the family, that there is money enough in this safe under my desk to start us all on the road to fortune."
"Who—whoop!" shouted the pilot through the trumpet. "Anything for Columbia?"
"Yes!" yelled Murray. "Walker, go out and warn the passengers who are to get off there, and I'll see to the freight."
Walker left the office, and Murray took possession of the stool he had just vacated.
"I shouldn't think you would like to have so much money in your charge," said George.
"Well, we do sometimes deposit it in the bank and take a check on St. Louis for it. That's the better plan, but I was too busy to do it, and besides I didn't know just how much I might want to use during the trip. Another thing, I never heard of money being stolen from the office of a steamboat. I don't suppose you could open the safe if I should give you the key, could you?"
"I am sure I couldn't," answered George. "I don't know the combination."
"I'll give it to you," said Murray.
"That wouldn't be right, would it?" asked George, doubtfully. "Suppose the safe should be robbed, and folks knew that I was acquainted with the combination. What would they think about it?"
"Folks would never know anything it; and besides, as soon as you had opened the safe, I should lock it again on another combination, and take good care of the key," said the clerk, with a laugh. "Here, try it just for fun. It's all in the family."
George, having never done business for any body except himself, did not know that business men, and their clerks, too, if they are honest, are very particular about their safes, and that they never, under any circumstances, invite outsiders to tamper with them. He did not know that the most of them lay so much stress on this point, that whenever they go into an office where there is an open safe, they take care to keep away from it; but it seems as if his common sense ought to have told him that he was doing what he ought not to do, when he picked up the key that Murray took out of his pocket and laid on his desk, inserted it into the lock, and went to work on the combination the latter had given him, which, by the way, was not the right one.
"You can't open it to save your life; you are a regular bungler," said Murray, hoping to arouse George's pride or combativeness to such a degree that he would keep at work at the safe until he could have time to carry out a very important part of his scheme. "I must go down and give the mate a list of the freight that is to be put off at Columbia, and you stay here and work at it till I come back. The door shuts with a spring-lock and nobody can surprise you."
These words ought to have aroused George to a sense of the situation, but they did not. He never suspected anything, but resumed his work after Murray went out into the cabin, telling himself the while that the lock was more complicated than the one on the safe at home, for he could not make the combination work at all.
Murray's first care when he heard the spring-lock close behind him, was to look around for Walker, whom he finally found on the boiler-deck.
"Those passengers seemed to have disappeared all of a sudden," said the second clerk. "I thought there were seven to get off at Columbia, and I can find but three."
"Never mind the passengers," said Murray, speaking as if he were in a great hurry. "I must go below for a few minutes, and I wish you would step into the office and stay there. I left Ackerman there alone, and—by the way—this is between you and me—I did very wrong to tell him about the large amount of money in the safe. I don't at all like the way he has hung around and questioned me ever since we left St. Louis."
Walker pricked up his ears at once.
"I wondered why you let him make the office a loafing-place," said he. "I have several times been on the point of telling him to go out, but you always appeared to be glad to see him——."
"Well, no; I wasn't glad to see him on account of the safe, you know, and the money in it," interrupted the chief clerk. "But he was poor Tony's bosom friend—intimate with the family and all that. Hurry up, Walker."
Murray went below, and the second clerk hastened toward the office. He did not go through the cabin, but passed along the guard, moving with noiseless footsteps, and looking through the glass-door saw George kneeling in front of the safe twirling the knob. The sight made Walker about as mad as a man ever gets to be. Opening the door with a quick push, he stepped across the threshold and confronted the young pilot, who arose to his feet looking not a little confused. The first thought that passed through his mind was that Walker suspected him of trying to rob the safe, and the expression on the second clerk's face certainly warranted that supposition.
"I guess I'll not try any longer," said George, throwing the key upon the desk.
"No, I guess I wouldn't," said Walker, picking up the key with one hand and trying the door of the safe with the other. "What business have you with this key anyway, and how did it come into your possession?"
"Murray gave it to me and told me to see if I could open the safe," replied George, drawing himself up and steadily returning Mr. Walker's searching gaze. "He gave me the combination, too."
"That's a little too thin, Ackerman," said Walker, closing the door and throwing the catch into its place. "I have known Murray too long to believe any such story."
"What do you mean by that?" demanded the young pilot, flushing hotly. "If you throw out any more insinuations, I'll send you over the rail into the river. Open that door."
Walker was a full grown man, but George was his equal in stature and weight, and vastly his superior in strength. He looked dangerous as he stood there with his sleeves pushed back and his fists doubled up, and that the clerk thought he was dangerous, was evident from the haste he used in opening the door and stepping aside so that George could pass out.
George, who was almost ready to boil over with rage, went straight to the lower deck and sought an interview with the chief clerk. That individual saw him coming, and hastened to meet him, for he knew better than to hold any conversation with him just then in the presence of a third party. So great an indiscretion as that would have been the death blow to his plans, which were only half, carried out.
"My dear fellow," said he, in a low tone, taking the young pilot by the arm and leading him toward the jackstaff, "what's the matter with you? You are as white as a ghost."
"A most unfortunate thing has happened," replied George, somewhat mollified by the presence and touch of the man whom he believed to be his friend. "While I was trying to open the safe, Walker came in through the outside door and caught me at it."
"Suppose he did?" said Murray, soothingly. "What of it? Didn't I tell you it was all in the family?"
"Well, you'll find that you have got anything but a peaceable family in your hands if Walker ever speaks to me again as he did when he came into the office," said George through his clenched teeth. "Do you know that he just as good as told me that I was trying to rob the safe? I came within a hair's breadth of knocking him clear across the state of Arkansaw."
As the office was situated on the port side of the boiler-deck, that was the direction in which the second clerk would have gone if George had struck him. Its legislature had not then passed the law declaring that the last syllable of the name of the state should be pronounced as though it were spelled "saw" instead of "sas," but the river men believed, no doubt, that such a law would be passed in time, for they always called it "Arkansaw."
"He even had the impudence to lock the door, as if he were going to keep me a prisoner there," continued George, hotly; "but I tell you, he opened it pretty quickly."
"No matter, no matter," whispered Murray. "Don't talk so loud. It isn't necessary that everybody should know it."
"I don't care who knows it. I can see now that I have been foolish, but I have done nothing wrong. Walker asked me how the key came into my hands, and when I told him that you gave it to me he said plainly that he didn't believe it. But you did give it to me, didn't you?" said George, turning his flashing eyes full upon the chief clerk.
"Of course, I did; certainly."
"Then come up to the office and tell him so," said George, turning Murray around so that he faced toward the stairs leading to the boiler deck.
"My dear fellow, be easy now," said the clerk, coaxingly. "I wouldn't bring you and Walker face to face while you are in such a passion for any money. He is quick-tempered, and said some things he had no business to say, and very likely you did the same. Hold on, now, and let me do the talking," he added, when George withdrew his arm, and doubled up his fists as if he were about to say something emphatic. "I know you think now that your language and your actions were perfectly justifiable, but when you get good-natured, you will be of a different—Oh, yes, you will," said the clerk, seeing that the young pilot shook his head very decidedly. "Never mind; leave it to me, and I'll straighten it all out as smooth as—"
Murray shut one eye, looked at George through the half-closed lids of the other, and spread his open hands before him as if he were smoothing out a table cloth.
"All right. I want you to be in earnest about what you do," said George, throwing all the emphasis he could into his words. "No half-way work, you understand. Walker must be told, in so many words, that you asked me to see if I could open the safe, that you gave me the key, and sat there on your stool and saw me work at it. You did, didn't you?"
Again the flashing eyes, which seemed to shoot forth angry sparks of fire, were turned full upon the clerk, who would no more have dared to deny it, than he would have dared to enter a powder magazine with an uncovered light.
"I don't want anybody to have so poor an opinion of me, and I can depend upon you to explain matters to him, can't I?" continued George. "Make sure work of it while you are about it, for if you don't, I give you fair warning that I shall broach the subject in the presence of witnesses the very first time I can catch you two together."
"George, you may depend upon me to the death," said Murray, solemnly. "You have been a true friend to me since you have been on this boat, and I am truly sorry that my unbounded confidence in you has been the means of bringing about this misunderstanding between you and Walker. Why couldn't he have kept out of the office until you got through?"
"Why couldn't I have let the safe alone?" said George, bitterly. "If I had done that, there would have been no trouble."
"Don't think about it. Go to bed now, and when you get up I shall be able to tell you that it is all right. By the way, George, don't say a word to anybody about it."
"I believe I'll go to Mr. Black and tell him the whole thing," replied the young pilot.
"My goodness, Ackerman, don't do that!" exclaimed Murray, in great alarm. "Can't you see how such a proceeding would injure me? It would get to Richardson's ears, of course, and he would sack me as soon as he heard of it. Just leave everything to me, and if I don't put you right with Walker, you can take the matter into your own hands."
George agreed to this with some reluctance, although on the face of it it appeared to be a very fair proposition. Acting upon the clerk's advice, he went up to his room and lay down in his bunk to make up for the sleep he had lost the night before while standing at the wheel, and Murray turned toward the office. He went in through the cabin, opened the door with his key and stepped across the threshold, whistling a lively tune; but he stopped very abruptly and looked inquiringly at the second clerk, who was sitting on the high stool, scowling fiercely.
"Hallo! What's the matter with you?" exclaimed Murray.
"Where's the key of the safe?" asked Walker, in reply.
"Well, you could have asked that question without looking at me so savagely, couldn't you?" said the chief clerk, as he stepped to the lower bunk and threw back the pillow. "What do you want of it?"
Walker did not answer. He sat on the stool and watched the movements of his superior, who looked all around the head of the bunk, and then uttering an exclamation of astonishment, began pulling off the quilts. In two minutes more the bed clothes, mattress and all, were piled in the middle of the floor, and Murray was searching his pockets with frantic haste.
"It's gone!" said he, dropping his hands by his side. "Look here, Walker," he almost shouted. "What are you up to? Hand it here."
The second clerk very coolly took the key out of his pocket and laid it upon the desk.
"I came in just in the nick of time," said he. "I found Ackerman trying to open the safe?"
Murray started as if he had been shot, and leaned heavily on the desk for support.
"I have thought all along that you were altogether too free with him," added the second clerk. "Do you generally keep the key under your pillow?"
"Always," replied Murray. "It is safe there, and if I carried it about with me I might lose it, you know."
"Ackerman must have seen you put it there some time, or take it from there," said Walker. "At any rate, he found it as soon as you went out, and went to work on the safe. You ought to have seen his face when I opened the door and surprised him. I tell you, Murray, that boy is a hard community. One would think that he would have been overwhelmed with fear and shame when he found that he was caught, but he wasn't. He tried to explain matters by saying that you had given him the key and the combination, too, and told him to open the safe if he could."
"What a villain!" exclaimed Murray, indignantly.
"Of course he is. When he saw that I couldn't swallow any such story as that, he showed fight. I locked the door and thought I would keep him in here until you came, but I didn't dare do it."
When the second clerk ceased speaking, Murray looked down at the floor, shook his head and sighed deeply. "So that's what he has been hanging around me for, is it?" said he. "An hour ago I wouldn't have believed such a thing of him."
"What are you going to do about it?"
"I don't know. Wait until I get my wits together so that I can think clearly. Walker, I don't believe I can ever trust anybody again."
"You'd better never trust a stranger. You didn't show your usual good sense in taking up with Ackerman as you did. You ought to go straight to the old man with it. If I were captain of this boat I'd put him and his trunk ashore right here in the woods."
"I'll tell you what I think about it," said Murray, suddenly straightening up, and looking at his assistant as if a bright idea had just occurred to him. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good, and it seems to me that we can make this thing benefit us in some way. As the matter stands now, I am as likely to be punished as Ackerman is, and in the same way—by being kicked off the boat. I will be accused of negligence of duty. Now, I think I see a way to avoid that, and put a few dollars into the pockets of each of us at the same time."
"I am in for that," said Walker.
"I thought you would be. You say this fellow is a hard one, and that's all the better for us, for he will not be satisfied with making one attempt on the safe. He'll come again, depend upon it, so I say let's hush this matter up, lisp not a word of it to anybody, and keep our eyes open and catch him in the act. Of course Richardson would hear of it, and what would be the result? He'd say: 'Those are wide-awake clerks aboard that boat—honest and always looking out for things. Boys, here's a check for a couple of hundred apiece, to show you that your fidelity is appreciated.' Eh?"
Mr. Walker loved money, and such an argument as this was not without its effect upon him. Murray, seeing by the expression on his face that he had made a point, hastened to add:
"Now, there is only one way in which this can be accomplished, and that is to make Ackerman believe that we don't suspect him of anything wrong. We'll be friendly and sociable with him, as we always have been, and never refer to the matter in any way. If he says anything to either of us about it, and most likely he will, for these hardened fellows are the very ones to try to face down an accusation by an assumption of innocence, we'll assure him that it is all right. What do you think of it?"
"I hardly know," said the second clerk, slowly. "I should like to see him punished, for he richly deserves it."
"Of course he does; but think of the possible reward."
"I do think of it, and that's what makes me hesitate. If I was sure that we could catch him, and that that stingy old Richardson would give us anything"—
"We'll catch him," interrupted Murray. "Don't you worry about that. As for Richardson, he'll come down handsomely. We don't run any risk, you understand, for Ackerman doesn't know the combination."
"But he might blunder on to it," said the second clerk.
"There is not one chance in a thousand," replied Murray confidently.
The result of this interview was that at the end of half an hour the chief clerk had brought his companion around to his way of thinking, and it was agreed between them that they would treat George in the future as they had treated him in the past; that they would act as though they were utterly ignorant of the fact that he had been guilty of any wrong; that if he ever referred to the matter in the presence of either or both of them they would laugh at it; and that while they were exerting themselves to the utmost to make him believe that they still had every faith in his honesty, they would watch him as closely as ever a cat watched a mouse. Having arrived at this understanding, Murray, who wanted to be alone for a few minutes, walked out on the guard, rubbing his hands gleefully as he went.
"If I had the ordering of things I couldn't make them work more to my satisfaction," said he to himself. "There hasn't been a single hitch so far, and if I am sharp there needn't be any at all. I shall be able to pay that note and have a snug sum left over to put into my pocket, and no one will be the wiser for it. Walker and I will be sacked for negligence, but I don't care for that. I wonder what he would think if he knew that he was preparing the way for his own discharge? I must work rapidly now, for my time grows shorter every day. I must be very cautious, too, for Ackerman has shown himself to be a fiery fellow, and if I give him any reason to suspect me, he may knock me clear across the state of Arkansaw."
The young pilot awoke about supper time from a troubled slumber, during which he dreamed that he had been detected in numberless attempts to open safes that contained immense amounts of money, and having made his toilet with great care, he descended to the boiler-deck and began to look around for the clerks. He had made up his mind to one thing, and that was, that that unfortunate affair of the afternoon would have to be satisfactorily settled before he went into the pilot-house that night. The chief clerk had been allowed ample time to explain matters to Walker, and if he hadn't done it, George was determined that he would do it himself.
"I'll take him before the captain, that's what I'll do," said the boy, as he turned toward the cabin after looking in vain for the clerks about the deck. "He knows very well that I never would have thought of touching that safe if he hadn't asked me to do it, and he must tell the captain so in my presence. Of course I shall be sorry to get him into trouble, but I am not going to rest under such an imputation as this any longer."
When George entered the cabin he saw that the window opening into the office was raised, and that the two clerks were at their desk. As he stepped up and rested his arms on the window-sill he thought that Murray started a little and changed color, but Walker greeted him with a cheery "Hollo!"
"What have you to say to me?" demanded the boy without returning the salutation.
"That I was a fool for my suspicions," answered Walker. "It's all square. What a scoundrel he is," said the second clerk, to himself. "He is actually trying to bluff us down."
"You are satisfied now that I had no intention of stealing your money, are you?" said George.
"Perfectly satisfied as to everything," was the reassuring reply. "Go around to the door and come in."
"No, I thank you," answered George, who had resolved that he would never go into the office again. "I'll stroll around a little before supper, for I must be at the wheel until midnight."
So saying, he turned and walked away, feeling as if a mountain of huge dimensions had been lifted from his shoulders. Why was it that he did not inquire particularly, as to the points upon which Walker had been satisfied? Did he know that Murray had given him the key; that he had asked him to try his skill upon the safe; and that he had watched him while he was at work upon it? The chief clerk was afraid that some such questions as these might be asked, and he was on nettles all the while that George stood at the window.
"I declare, I can't look into Ackerman's face without telling myself that I was dreaming; that I never saw him near the safe," said Walker, leaning his elbows on the desk and looking puzzled. "I don't for the life of me, see how a guilty boy can gaze into a fellow's eyes as squarely as he can."
"O, guilt will stare innocence out of countenance any day," returned Murray, carelessly. "Remember, now, that if he makes another attempt on the safe, we must be on hand to catch him; if he doesn't, we must keep the affair secret. It would hurt us, you know, if it should become known."
Murray took the next day to rest in, and to screw up his courage sufficiently to enable him to carry out the next step in his programme. Everything he had done up to this time, was simply preparatory, and now, that he had got matters arranged to suit him, he was ready to strike his blow. On the morning of the second day, Walker worked at his desk until nine o'clock, and then, after pressing his hand to his forehead several times, he descended from his high stool and proceeded to shut up the office. He put down and hooked the window, that looked out into the cabin; closed and bolted the door that opened out on the guard, as well as the blinds that protected that door, and went out into the cabin, taking pains to satisfy himself that the spring lock on that door did its full duty. Seeing his fellow clerk seated at one of the tables reading a newspaper, he walked up and held out the key to him. There was but one key between them, Walker having managed to lose his own.
"I have a bad headache," said he, "and I am going up in Texas to take a nap. Call me at noon, will you? Here's the key."
"Keep it yourself," replied Murray. "I shall not go near the office until you come down. There's not much to be done, and we can straighten the business up in an hour. Sleep all day if you want to. I'll call you when I want you."
Half an hour after this, Murray laid aside his paper, and arose to his feet. He went out of the cabin, and about fifteen minutes later ascended the stairs that led to the hurricane-deck. He went into Texas, and, after looking all around to make sure that there was nobody in sight, stepped cautiously into George Ackerman's room, and taking his pillow off the bunk thrust something into it. He flattered himself, that this action was entirely unobserved, but such was not the case. No sooner had he gone out, than a black face, which was pressed close against a transom over the door that gave entrance into a stateroom on the other side of the little cabin, was withdrawn; and a moment later, the door was opened, and one of the numerous darkies employed on the boat stepped out. He crept to the door on tip-toe, glanced up and down the deck, and after making sure that the chief clerk had gone below, he ran into George's room, pulled down the pillow and looked into it. Between the pillow and the case, he discovered two articles, one of which, after a moment's hesitation, he put into his pocket. The other he left where he found it; and the pillow he put back in its place on the head of the bunk.
During the rest of the day, the chief clerk could scarcely control himself, so nervous and excited was he. There was something hanging over him, a trying ordeal to be gone through with, and he knew that he would be in the greatest suspense until it was all over. If he succeeded, he would be well out of the last scrape he ever meant to get into; if he failed—but that was something he did not like to think about; and besides, he would not allow himself to believe that there was any chance for failure. His situation was too desperate for that. He must succeed. He did not call the second clerk at noon, and the latter did not get up until three o'clock. Murray saw him when he came down, and went into the barber shop; and as soon as he could do so, without being seen by his assistant, he ran to the lower deck and went back into the engineer's room. He had been there perhaps a quarter of an hour, when Walker, pale and agitated, suddenly made his appearance and seized him by the arm.
"Good, gracious!" exclaimed Murray, while the engineers looked on in amazement. "What's the matter?"
"Say nothing to nobody, but come with me," answered Walker, in a low tone. "You were right when you said that he would make another attempt. He's done it; and more than that, he has been successful. Didn't I tell you that he might blunder on to that combination? Well, he did."
This startling announcement seemed to take away the chief clerk's power of speech. Without saying a word, he allowed Walker to lead him to the boiler-deck and around the guard to the outer door of the office. The room certainly looked as though somebody had been there. The clothing in Murray's bunk was tumbled up, the high stool was overturned, the safe was wide open, the key was gone, one of the panes in the glass door was missing, and the fragments were scattered about over the floor. Murray seemed to be utterly confounded. After standing motionless for a moment, he rushed up to the safe, jerked open a little drawer, and then staggered back to his bunk and fell upon it.
"This is the condition in which I found the room when I entered it a moment ago," said Walker, taking possession of the high stool. "I haven't touched a thing. Before I went to bed this morning, I took particular pains to see that everything was secure. The key of the safe was under your pillow then, for I saw it there."
"How do you suppose he got in?" Murray managed to ask, in a trembling voice. There was no sham about his agitation, but it was not occasioned by the robbery of the safe. The ordeal he so much dreaded, was close at hand; and in spite of the confidence he had thus far felt in the success of his schemes, he feared failure and exposure.
"There is but one way he could have got in," answered the second clerk. "He slipped his fingers in through the blinds and raised the hasp, smashed that pane of glass, and put in his hand and opened the door. Then he found the key under your pillow, stumbled upon the combination, as I was afraid he would, and made off with that big envelope which you put in the drawer with three thousand dollars in it. Say, Murray, your plan didn't work worth a cent, did it? We can just consider ourselves discharged."
"Go out and ask the old man to come in here," said the chief clerk. "This thing has got to be looked into. We'll have to tell him about catching Ackerman here, and explain why we didn't report the matter at once. You must do the talking, for my wits have all left me."
The second clerk was gone scarcely more than a minute, for he found the captain on the boiler-deck. When the latter was conducted into the office he uttered an ejaculation indicative of the profoundest amazement, and seated himself on the bunk by Murray's side. The condition of the room, and the expression on the faces of the two clerks, told him what had happened there.
"When was this done?" he asked, as soon as he found his tongue.
"Sometime between nine and three o'clock," replied Walker, who then went on to tell how the thief had forced an entrance into the office.
"Why, it must be somebody who is acquainted with your way of doing business," said the captain, in deep perplexity. "Now, where shall we look for him? I have seen no one loitering about here except George Ackerman."
"And everything seems to point toward him as the guilty party," exclaimed Murray. "I wish you would have his room searched at once."
"Bless my soul!" cried the captain. "You surely don't suspect him? Well, well!" he added, more in sorrow than anger, when he received an affirmative nod from each of the clerks. "That beats me. I would almost as soon suspect my own son of being a thief."
"I know it is hard to believe," answered Walker, "but, captain, listen to this, and tell us what you think of it."
The second clerk then began and described the incidents that had happened in the office two days before; repeated the conversation which he and Murray had held regarding George's unsuccessful attempt to open the safe; and explained the plans they had laid to catch him, if he were bold enough to make another effort to steal the money. The captain listened in genuine amazement, and after asking a few leading questions, arose to his feet saying:
"This affair must be probed to the bottom and that, too, before we make another landing. Let us go and see if we can find Ackerman. Things look rather black against him, I must confess, but I never will believe that he is the one who broke into this office, until he tells me so."
The captain led the way to the hurricane-deck and into Texas. The boy pilot, having finished his nap, had dressed himself, and was on the point of leaving his room as his visitors entered it. He was about to great them pleasantly, but the words died away on his lips when he saw the way they looked at him.
"George," said the captain, closing the door behind him, "I am sorry to tell you that Murray's safe has been robbed, that the key and three thousand dollars in money are missing, and that you are supposed to know more about it than anybody else."
The effect of these words can be more readily imagined than described. George could scarcely believe that he had heard aright. His eyes opened to their widest extent, his under jaw dropped down, and the expression of his face changed like lightning. Bewilderment, grief, incredulity, almost every emotion of which the human mind is capable, was reflected in his countenance, but he did not look guilty. He tried to speak, but he could not utter a sound.
"We have come here to search your room," said the captain.
These words aroused George. The only feeling that possessed him now was one of intense indignation; but still he spoke calmly.
"Who dares accuse me of such an act?" he demanded. "Show him to me. Let me stand face to face with him and ask him his reasons for suspecting me. Is it you, Walker?"
"It is both of us," answered the second clerk.
"Do you suspect me because you saw me trying to open the safe day before yesterday?" asked George, still speaking very calmly.
"Why, Ackerman, any sane boy would be willing to acknowledge that that was a very suspicious circumstance," replied Walker.
"Didn't you assure me that the thing had been explained to your entire satisfaction? I tell you in Murray's presence, as I told you once before, that he handed me the key, gave me the combination and sat there on his high stool and watched me while I was at work on the safe. Murray is that so or not?"
The chief clerk's face was a sight to behold. He was white to the lips and trembling so violently in every limb that he was obliged to place his hand against the bulkhead for support. He opened his mouth as if he were about to speak, but no words came forth.
"Why don't you deny it to him as you did to me?" demanded Walker, while both he and the captain looked at the chief clerk in astonishment.
"I am too angry to say anything," replied Murray.
George was thunderstruck. "Am I to understand that you deny it?" he cried, as soon as he could speak.
"I do, most emphatically," answered Murray, whose courage began to return to him as soon as he heard the sound of his own voice. "There's not a word of truth in it."
"Didn't you give me the key and tell me to see if I could open the safe?" repeated George, who wondered if he were awake or dreaming.
"I never did. People who handle money are not in the habit"—
He never finished the sentence. All of a sudden George's right arm shot out with the force of a thunderbolt, Murray's head came in violent contact with the door, splitting one of the panels, and Murray himself sank helplessly to the floor. The young pilot, who now began to have a very dim idea that he was the victim of a deeply laid plot, was thoroughly aroused, and he would have handled the schemer roughly indeed if the captain and Walker had not caught him in their arms and held him fast.
"What a desperate wretch he is," thought the second clerk, who did not know which to wonder at the more—the cool assurance of the guilty boy, or the power of the arm that had so quickly and easily made a "spread eagle" of his superior. "He looks as innocent as a lamb."
"There's a bug under that chip, and it's a big one, too," thought the captain, by which he meant to inform himself that there was something back of all this that needed looking into. "No guilty boy ever looked and acted like Ackerman. I shall not allow any more violence," said he sternly. "I promise you that the thing shall be thoroughly investigated and the blame placed right where it belongs; but if you don't behave yourself I'll put the handcuffs on you."
"All right, sir," said George, in reply. "The sooner you get to the bottom of it the better you will suit me. You said something about searching my room. There are my keys. Go through my trunk thoroughly, and if you can find anything in it or in my room to condemn me, I will acknowledge myself guilty."
The captain took the keys, inserted one of them into the lock of George's trunk and hesitated. He knew then, as well as he knew it afterward, that he was on the wrong track. The second clerk being of a different opinion, began an attack upon George's bunk. Picking up the pillow, he caught the case by the corners and gave it a shake, when something that gave out a metallic sound fell to the floor. Walker caught it up and held it aloft with an exclamation of triumph. It was the key of the safe. The young pilot fairly gasped for breath when he saw it. He gave Murray one look and seated himself on Mr. Black's trunk.
"George, George!" exclaimed the old captain, sorrowfully. "How do you account for that?"
"I can't account for it, sir," replied the boy; "I never put that key there."