SHORT STORY.

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 829, 19 June 1912, Page 7

SHORT STORY.

•LUEED TO HIS DOOM.' 'Robert,* amid Mr. Vyse slowly, gazing fixedly at the young clerk,' I have no doabt that it is you who have robbed me.' The hot blood flooded Bobert Aelasd's neck and face as he took in the meaning of the words. 'I swear to you, air,' he cried passionately, 'thai you wrong me—l swear is by * my sooL* ' I wish I could believe you, Bobert.' Mr. Vyse replied, * for I like you; but unf ortu- - nately appearances are too much asrainst you. What, may I ask, were jou doing at five o'clock yesterday evening in my private roam! You had no right or business to be there.* - 'Nor waa 1/ returned the young fellow proudly, drawing himself up to his full height. I have never been in this room in my life excej-t jphen you have sent me. Has anyone told you that I was herelast evening, sir?* 'Yes, Bobert, your comrade, Bichard Starkie, assured me of it not ten minutes ago.* • Bichard Starkie!' exclaimed Acland, in great wonderment. ' Why, he must be mad. What can have possessed him to tell so wicked a falsehood? We have always been good friends, he and I. Why should he thus sryto rain me?' "T&e words, the tone, were those of an insccsHi: man. Mr. Vyse began to waver in his cpiiuon as to A eland's guilt. 'Robert,' he said, more kindly, 'will you swear.to me before God that you are innocent,?* Bailing aloft his right hand, ' I call the God before whose Judgment Throne we both shall one day stand to witness that lam guiltless?,' he declare! eoLjmnly, 'Sorely, sir. yoa will believe me now f' Mr. Vyse held. out his hand. ' Yes, Bobert, I believe yoa,* he said,' and I beg yoor pardon for having doabted you; bat what Stai tie's motive in traducing you has been I am at a loss to understand.' 'Soam I, air,' answered Acland. 'His conduct is quite incomprehensible.' • Well, Bobert,' wound up the old gentleman, as he dismissed his clerk,' you must promise ma one thing—that you will treat Starkie just the same as if nothing unusual had occurred. It is my wish.' * I wul try, sir, but it will be a hard task,* Ar.lan/l replied, as be quitted the room. Left atone, Mr. Vyse, a hale, active man of sixty-five, lay back in his chair and gave himself up to thought. Bat the more he puzzled over the disappearance of his cashbox, the further he seemed from a solution of the mystery. It was gone, but by whose hand it was difficult to say. Of course, the news that their employer had been robbed ran like wildfire through the small community. It was Bichard Starkie who first made the ill news—for no official intimation of it was given—but to his. fallow-workers he dare not try to incriminate young Acland, for Ac'sud was a-favourite with his colleagues, and Starkie knew well that any 'remarks srurgestive of his guilt would be received in • stony silence—the silence of sheer disbelief. - That evening Bob Acland went to see Elsie Venn**, the girl of his heart. There was' no actual engagement between them, bes Else understood quite well that Bob was only waiting for a rise of salary before aakrag her tu he his wife, fie had intended to tell her nothing about what had occurred at thei.ciHce during the day, but the quickwitted girl spon saw that something was amiss, a til taxed him with it. And after a little hesitation on his part and a little pxessicaron hers, the whole story came out. •I eicnot think, darling,' finished Bob, * what baa indaced Starkie to do it.' ' Shall I tell you ?' asked Elsie demurely. •Yoof •Yea, \L I can, you know.' And then she proceeded to relate how Bichard Starkie had a few days before asked her to marry him, and, on her refusal, flown into a violent rage, not only heaping anathemas on her head, but also on Bob, whom he had designated ' a white-livered cur.* * And jca believe he has attempted to lay the theft at my door to blacken my character in your eyes? What a scoundrel the fellow most be!' 'lf you Ltd seen the look on his face ween he left me,' replied the girl, *yoa would thins:, as I do, that he is capable of anything.* Next day Bob Ac'and repeated to Mr. Vyse the conversation he had held with BJaid Venner. j Meanwhile Bichard Starkie was in a very unhappy frame of mind. He had just sufficiint manhood left to be able to appreciate the unutterable carrishness of his own conduct. Bat that did not tend to make him sorry for what he had done. No, it rather embittered him stfll more against his rival. ' A mania for- gambling, inherited from his father, who had betted away a large estate daring bis life; dying only just in time to cave bur.seif from actual starvation, had in thi* first instance made him short of money. In order to retrieve his position* he betted still more heavily, and again lost. I'l-luak pursued Lira from day to day, till at last, unable to meet the demands made on him, exposure stared him in the face. And .exposnre, h* knew, meant prompt dismiss>.l from Mr. Vyse's service. In this dilemma he stole the cash-box, and it was only when gloating over its contents that the-idea of saddling Aohnd with the theft occurred,to him. Irresolute in this as in everything else, he wavered some time before finally (ieciding to commit this last piece of villainy, but his evil genius, as always, prevailed. •Curse the fellow!' he ground out between hi-* clenched teeth. 'lf only I can ruiu him ! IFonfy I can make Elsie despise and loathe him' What is he that ha should steal her from me? I'll win her yet in spite of him.'

It was Mr. Yptfe custom to go for a walk, unless the day ma very wet. between the hours of twelve and one. He usually went down the high road straight oat of the town for a mile, returning home over the fields and through a email plantation. A few dgga after the loss of the cash-box, he took the accustomed path. Dot, his fa to arite I dog, half- pointer, half -retriever, accompanied him. In the middle ~ of the plantation Dot suddenly sniffed/the air, then bounded in amoog the brushwood, and pointed. ' Dot! I)■■> I'' called hu master. ' Here, good dog, come hack.' Bat Dot had evidently found something, and refused to be shouted o*. Mr. Vyse made his way to where the dog was standing. Up sprang a fine rabbit and dashed away. Dot in hot pursuit. But Mr. Vyae heeded neither rabbit nor dog. His gaze was rivet ted on the place from which the rabbit had jumped. Thus, for a moment or two, he stood; then, with a peculiar smile on Ms face, he wheeled round and walked briskly home. ijoase ibtee dayi later Bichard Starkie was fura:B6a»d to hi* chiefs preseiice. He went, trembling, fearing he knew not what. ' Mr. Vyie,' you hare been in tar emj&y longer than any other of my elerka, that of ore I think it only right to make yon my spokesman to them. I wish jou thea, to teE them on my behalf that I attribute the disappearance of my cash-box to none of than, that I am quite convinced of their iasocence.' Bichard Surkie paled slightly. Had his scheme to ruiu young Aclsud failed miserablv after all? It seemed so. Cut, ha replied, with apparent frankness, ' I am very pl-ivl to hear that Robert Asland has c'-ir«i himself, s>.' ' • He has dune so most completely,' rejoined ffr. Vjse. * I have a very high opinion of A«laod, Starkie.' ■ So nave I, sir,' he returned glibly, while b« inwardly cursed the man of whom he tuvke thus taaiinglr. ( lt has caused me

great pain to think thai ha Wold BOtsjbfy be 'ls it possible that this man is innocent after all ?' wondered Mr. Vyse. 'lf not his hypocrisy is simply astounding; but t shall Boon know the truth.' And a grim *mQe passed over his face. 'Just one thing more,' continued Mr. Vyge, looking straightly into his olerk's r", which met his own unflinchingly,' and is for your ear alone, Starkie; in the theft of my cash-box I have sustained a far greater loss than any one but myself is aware of. It is a box of peculiar construction —in faor, it had a false bottom, and in that false bottom, Starkie, there were notes to the value of £7OO. I had placed them there only two days before I was robbed.' ' Of course, you have the numbers, sir.' ' Why, yes, I have the numbers, Starkie; but an expert thief—and I imagine from the coolness and audacity of the robbery, that I have been the victim of one—finds no difficulty in changing stolen paper. He knows where to take it, and obtain a good price.' When Richard Starkie went baok to his colleagues to give them their employer's message, his breast was torn by two emotions —baffled spite and greed of further gold. • I wfll destroy him yet' He thought of Bob A eland. ' He's escaped me for a while, but it shall not be for long. Elsie Venner shall never be his wife. lam a good plotter, friend Bob, and though you wriggle out of my clutches a hundred tunes, I -will have you the hundred and first.

' Po*r old buffer!'—his mind reverting to the man whose presence he had jnst left—- ' you little guessed that in making a confident of me, you were toiling the thief how to farther enrich himself. (Hew incorrect this idea was we already know.) Well, 700 quids will come in very handy just now—and, I suppose, the commission would not be more than JB2OO. Markby's getting very restive for his money, and I could pay him and still have a niee little balanca in hand. Yca're in lack's way, Dick, my boy; fortune favours you.' > If to be standing in the dark on the brink of a precipice without knowing it is to be in luck's way, then Bichard Starkie was indeed, in an enviable position. • • • • • ,

Bending down amidst the bramble and brushwood which formed the undergrowth of a small.plantation, groping among the briars and grasses, Bichard Starkie was searching for the cash- box.

' I know I flung it somewhere here,' he muttered fiercely. ' Where can the thing be? Ah!' as his hand at last alighfei on some metal,' here you are! I was just beginning to think that jadish fortune had served me a scurvy brink. Well,' clasping the box to his bosom, * you've been a good friend.to me, and 111 treat you as lightly as possible. Gome, let*s away—merciful powers! what's thatP

Four stalwart arms had seizeS him from behind, and were holding him with a vicelike grip; and before he knew what was really taking place, he felt the cold steel on his wrists and realised that ha was a prisoner —a detected thief who had blindly fallen into a skillfully-laid trap. The arrest of Richard Starkie had not become generally known when Mr. Vyse called together his clerks on the following morning, and communicated to them the startling news that his confidential servant was in gaol. Great was the wonderment manifested.

' And I wish to say, gentlemen,' he wound up, ' that in consideration of his past services to me, I should not have prosecuted Starkie, had he not endeavoured by every means in his power, from motives of personal spite, to fix the theft on one of yourselves.

Who that one was soon became public prop2rty, as also the motive power of Starkie'g animosity. At the ensuing assizes'Starkie was sent into penal servitude for five years, regretted by none of his fellow-workers, for owing to his insolent, overbearing manners he had never beep a favourite. .

What thoughts filled, the poor wretch's mind as he heard his doom from the Judge's lips? Who can tell? 3ufc if I am any N reader of human character the bitterest pang he Buffered was iu knowing that the rival he haled had stepped into the place rendered vacant by his arrest, and that Elsie Venner would ere long be that rival's wife.—E iUsDOLPH.