"I don't believe in his lands. Because folks say he's got bit in his lands, and can't sell for what he gin for 'em, though he says they will fetch three times what they cost him. If they'd fetch what he gin for 'em he'd sell 'em. I almost know he's got bit on 'em. But he can't have my money; he owes me ten thousand dollars now. I've worked hard for what little I've got, and I ain't a goin' to have it fooled away in no land speculation."

It seemed to me that the old lady understood her son's case perfectly; and my own observation fully confirmed her statement. The junior partner was certainly in a tight place.

"My two married daughters, that need the money more'n Charles does, would never get a cent of my property if I should let him have it. I ain't a goin' to do it, not if I should die afore mornin'."

"I don't think you are in any immediate danger, Mrs. Whippleton," I replied; and I did not believe that one who could talk as fast as she did was in any present peril.

"But Charles will pester the life out of me to get this money and these papers. I'm afraid he's been doin' something that's wrong."

"What do you wish me to do for you?"

"I'll tell you, Philip. I know you're honest, and I will trust you just as far as any human bein' can be trusted," she continued; but she paused again, and I concluded that she was not quite satisfied to trust even me.

"You believe I can trust you--don't you?" she added, taking the valuable package from under the bed-clothes.

"You must be your own judge, Mrs. Whippleton."

"I know I can!" she exclaimed, suddenly. "You would not rob a poor woman who is on her dying bed."

"I certainly would not."

"At any rate, I know Charles would rob me of every dollar I have in the world, and think he was smart to do it; but I don't believe you would,"

said she, extending the package towards me.

"What do you wish me to do with it?" I replied, taking her treasure--her only treasure, it seemed to me, either in earth or in heaven.

It was only the treasure where thieves break through and steal; and the thief was at hand--one whom she had trained up in the ways of worldly wisdom.

"I don't know; only put it where Charles can't get it; that's all."

"But I have no safe place for it."

"You can put it somewhere. I feel better now it is out of my hands,"

she added, with a deep sigh.

"Really, Mrs. Whippleton, I can't take charge of this. I am afraid it would make me as miserable as it has you."

"You must take it, Philip. You are the only honest man I know of. Keep it safe, and when I'm gone,--if I'm goin' this time,--don't give it to anybody but my administrator."

"I don't like to take it, Mrs. Whippleton."

"That's the very reason why I want you to take it. If you was more willing, I shouldn't be so anxious to give it to you. I know you'll be careful of it."

"I will tell you what I will do with it, if you are willing. I want to go to St. Louis to see my father. If Mr. Whippleton will let me off to-morrow, for a few days, I will go then. I will seal up the package, and my father will keep it in his safe."

"Is your father honest?"

"He is."

"He must be if he is your father. Do as you think best. If he can put the money out at interest for me, I should like it all the better."

"Very well. I will give you my receipt for this package, and that will at least be evidence that I took it, and at your request."

I put the treasure in my pocket, and then led the conversation into another channel. I tried to awaken in her mind an interest in that other treasure, where thieves do not break through nor steal; but she was tired, and said she wanted to rest. She had talked so much that she was all worn out. She was a sad spectacle to me, and though she had gathered together a considerable fortune, it seemed to me that her life was a failure; she had not realized the true success.

I went to my room, opened the package, and made out a list of all the valuable papers which it contained. I wrote a receipt for them and for the money, and then, with the treasure under my pillow, I went to sleep. The next morning I called upon the old lady, and gave her the receipt. The nurse thought she was better, and said she had slept very well after I left her. Mrs. Whippleton told me she was willing to pay my expenses to St. Louis, and I might take the money for the purpose from the package.

CHAPTER XII.

IN WHICH PHIL VISITS THE HOUSE OF MR. COLLINGSBY, AND SEES MISS MARIAN.

I went to the counting-room at an early hour. My first care was to tie up the valuable package, which I had brought with me, in thick paper, and to seal it very carefully. I wrote my own name upon it, and then placed it in one of the drawers of the safe, the key of which was kept in the desk. I hoped to obtain permission, when Mr. Whippleton came to the counting-room, to visit St. Louis, especially as business was not as driving as usual. I did all my routine work, and the junior partner had not arrived. I was not anxious to see him for any other purpose than to obtain leave of absence. Indeed, the idea of meeting him was very embarra.s.sing. After what his mother had said, I was satisfied that Mr. Whippleton had been using the funds of the firm in his own private speculations. It was evident that he had appropriated no less a sum than forty thousand dollars, which was represented by the fict.i.tious invoices. I did not believe that he intended to purloin the money, but would replace it when his land speculations yielded their returns. Mr.

Collingsby never examined the books thoroughly, and was not likely to discover the fraud. I knew all about it, and it suddenly flashed upon my mind that it would be wrong for me to be a party to a concealment.

I was not employed by Mr. Whippleton alone, but by the firm. My obligations were to both the partners; and though Mr. Collingsby never took any notice of me, my duty to him was just as urgent as to the junior. The thought startled me. My soul revolted at the idea of any treachery to Mr. Whippleton, who had always been very kind to me. But on the other hand, my moral sense revolted at the thought of concealing his fraud. I was troubled by the situation.

Mrs. Whippleton did not believe that her son's enterprise in real estate was a success. In her own words, he "had been bitten." It seemed to me that, in the end, there must be a fearful explosion. As I had the whole charge of the books now, I did not see how I could avoid any complicity with the fraud. In fact, I had already discovered it. I felt that I had a duty to perform, and that, if I exposed the junior partner, he, and not I, would be guilty of his fall. Was it meanness, ingrat.i.tude, or treachery in me to put Mr. Collingsby on his guard? If I could save Mr. Whippleton, I wished to do so. It was plain that he had come to a realizing sense of his danger, and was persecuting his mother to obtain the means of making good his deficit. But all the old lady's money would not cover the deficiency, and it was also impossible for him to obtain it. He had falsified the books, and he could not undo that.

If I continued to cover up Mr. Whippleton's error, I became a party to it. He was a bad man, and I could not fail to see my duty. I must inform Mr. Collingsby of what I had discovered. But though my duty was clear, my inclination rebelled. The junior partner had been kind and considerate; the senior, lofty and distant. It seemed almost like betraying my friend. While I was still considering the matter, Mr.

Whippleton came in. I had not reached any conclusion, except that I would not be a party to the fraud by concealing it.

"Phil, do you know where Mr. Collingsby lives?" said the junior partner, while I was still in this state of doubt and uncertainty.

"I do, sir."

"I wish you would go up and show him this list of lumber," continued Mr. Whippleton, who seemed to be very much excited, and was very pale.

"Tell him I can buy the lot at a very low figure if I can pay cash at one o'clock to-day."

"I wish you would send Robert," I replied, alluding to the new entry clerk. "I want to speak to you about the books."

"Never mind the books," he answered. "I want you to go, for you can tell him all about the cash of the concern. I heard just now that he was not very well, and probably would not be here to-day."

By this time I had made up my mind what to do, and the conclusion seemed to afford me the means of escaping both horns of the dilemma into which I was plunged. I glanced at the memoranda which Mr.

Whippleton handed to me, and I saw that about twenty-five thousand dollars would be required to make the purchase he contemplated. Our cash balance in the bank was about six thousand, and Mr. Collingsby was expected to furnish the rest. I did not care to go to the senior partner upon such an errand, for I was afraid that the transaction the junior meditated might include another fict.i.tious invoice.

"Well, will you go?" demanded Mr. Whippleton, while I was looking at the list.

"I would rather not, sir," I replied.

"What!"

"I have come to the conclusion that I should resign my place here," I replied, finding that nothing but plain speech would answer my purpose.

"Resign!" exclaimed he.