he continued, beginning to be excited, as he rose from his easy-chair.

"They have never been entered in the lumber book, sir."

"What's the lumber book?"

I explained what it was.

"Send Mr. Faxon to me. Send the invoices by him," continued the senior.

"Perhaps I can look into the matter better here than at the counting-room."

I wondered that he even knew who Mr. Faxon was. A man who had so little knowledge of his own business as Mr. Collingsby almost deserved to be cheated out of his property.

"What shall I say to Mr. Whippleton, sir?" I asked.

"Tell him we will not increase our stock at any rate," he replied, decidedly. "Do you think Mr. Whippleton has been using the firm's money for his own purposes, Mr. Philips?"

"That is not for me to say, sir. Mr. Whippleton has always been very kind to me, and I dislike to say anything about this business."

"But, Mr. Philips, you are employed by the firm, of which I am the senior member. I furnished nearly all the capital--that is, my father and I together."

"I know it, sir; and I felt it to be my duty to speak, or I should not have done so. Of course I have drawn a catastrophe upon myself by what I have done."

"What's that?"

"Mr. Whippleton will hate me, and discharge me at once. I wished to resign this morning, but he would not allow me to do so."

"I'm glad he did not. If I find you have been mistaken, I shall say nothing about the matter to him. Mr. Faxon and the invoices will soon answer me one way or the other. I asked you if you thought Mr.

Whippleton had been using the firm's money for his own purposes. You did not answer me."

"I think he has, sir. He is engaged in a large land speculation with Mr. Waterford."

"Waterford!" exclaimed the dignified senior. "He is no better than a swindler."

"Indeed!" I exclaimed, recalling the fact that I had just seen the subject of this harsh epithet making an appointment with the beautiful daughter of Mr. Collingsby.

"Perhaps I know him better than others; but no matter about him."

"He is a very wealthy young man," I suggested.

"No; he made a good thing of one or two speculations, and may possibly have twenty or thirty thousand dollars, if he hasn't sunk it in some of his mad schemes. I was foolish enough to indorse one of his notes without security. He is an unprincipled man; and if Whippleton has been operating with him, I am not surprised that he is in trouble. Now go, Mr. Philips, and send Mr. Faxon, with the invoices."

I bowed myself out, and hastened back to the counting-room, where I found Mr. Whippleton waiting my return with feverish impatience.

"What have you been about, Phil?" he demanded.

"Talking with Mr. Collingsby. He declines to have the stock increased, and don't approve your proposition."

"He is an idiot!" exclaimed the junior, with a savage oath. "What were you talking about all this time, Phil?"

"I answered the questions he put to me, and stated your proposition fully."

Mr. Faxon came in opportunely at this moment to save me from a more searching examination, and took his place at the desk. The junior partner was evidently vexed and disconcerted. He looked at his watch, and walked back and forth very nervously. In a few moments he went out.

I took the mysterious invoices from the file, enclosed them in an envelope, and delivered Mr. Collingsby's message to the head salesman.

It was very evident that an explosion could not be long deferred. Mr.

Faxon would be able to inform the senior partner that the lumber mentioned in the fict.i.tious invoices had never been received in the yard. The Michigan Pine Company had an agency in the city, and it would be a very easy matter to verify the princ.i.p.al bill, if it were a genuine one.

Mr. Whippleton soon returned. He looked more cheerful and satisfied than when he went out; but as he came near me, I smelt his breath, and found that his new inspiration was whiskey. He immediately sent me to settle with a building firm who had made large purchases, though he usually attended to this portion of the business himself. I was absent about an hour. When I returned, the junior partner was not in the counting-room.

"Where is Mr. Whippleton?" I asked.

"He went out about five minutes ago," replied the entry clerk.

"Did he say where he was going?"

"No; he drew a check, and left with that and a lot of other papers in his hand."

I took the check book from the safe, and found that he had drawn the entire balance, save a few dollars. I was alarmed. The crisis seemed to come sooner than I expected.

"What papers did he take?" I asked.

"I don't know what they were. He took a file from the safe, and looked it over for some time."

"Which file?"

"I don't know."

I went to the safe, and found that the notes receivable had been considerably deranged, for I had put them away with the nicest care. I satisfied myself that quite a number of them had been taken from the file. Mr. Whippleton was evidently raising a large sum of money. I placed the note book upon the table, and told the entry clerk to check off the notes as I read them. When we had finished this comparison, those not checked were the notes the junior had taken. They represented about thirty-two thousand dollars. At this moment he was, doubtless, raising the money on these notes.

What should I do? Mr. Whippleton was a villain! I concluded that he found it impossible to conceal his frauds much longer, and he was getting together all the money he could, in order to flee to some safer locality. He had persecuted his mother with a pertinacity which indicated a resolute purpose to do something. Now he had taken notes and cash to the amount of thirty-eight thousand dollars. I was no longer troubled with any scruples about exposing him, and I felt that I was hunting a villain.

I hastened with all speed to the house of Mr. Collingsby, and without waiting for the slow formalities of the ceremonious servant, I rushed up stairs to the chamber of the senior partner. I knocked, but I did not wait for a summons before I entered.

"I am glad you have come, Mr. Philips," said Mr. Collingsby. "You are entirely right. These invoices are fict.i.tious. Mr. Faxon has been to the office of the Michigan Pine Company, and no such goods have been sold to our firm."

"I was pretty well satisfied on that point, sir; but the matter is worse than that. Mr. Whippleton has just checked out the entire balance in the bank, and taken away notes to the amount of thirty-two thousand dollars," I replied.

"The villain!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mr. Collingsby.

CHAPTER XIV.

IN WHICH PHIL MEETS WITH A SERIOUS CATASTROPHE.

"You have done wrong, Mr. Philips!" said the senior partner, with energy.

"I did the best I could, sir."