MIGHT VERSUS RIGHT.

Cromwell Argus, Volume XXVII, Issue 1375, 3 September 1895, Page 2

MIGHT VERSUS RIGHT.

BY JULIA HACK,

[coPTnronT. j

[two INSTALMENTS APPEAR IX THIS DAY'S ISSUE,]

Author of “ Th’ Bogrjnrl o’ th’ Mill,” “ Glen. Gordon,” <f‘c.

CHAPTER XVl.—Continues. lie laid the cheque upon Mr. Jakes’s desk, and turned to speak to one of the younger clerks. Mr. Jakes took the cheque to the manager. After some delay he returned, looking pale and agitated. “ Beg your pardon, Armitage,” he said, nervously, “ Mr. Price wishes to speak to you; will you —will you walk into his room ? ” Frank looked at him in surprise. He thought the old man must be ill, he looked so changed and shaken. “What’s wrong, Jakes?” he said, kindly. “ You don’t look yourself at all. Do you feel ill ? ” “ Yes —no—oh! never mind me,” returned Mr. Jakes, incoherently. Frank followed him into the next room. “ We cannot cash this cheque, Mr. Armitage,” said the manager, in a cold, sharp voice, giving him at the same time a quick look of suspicion. “ Why not, Mr. Price ? ” asked Frank, surprised; “ isn’t it endorsed ? ” Mr. Price looked at him keenly, and old Jakes appeared ready to drop. Frank was astonished. ! “What is the matter with the cheque, sir?” he inquired, putting out his hand i to take it up; but Mr. Price at once re- j moved it out of his reach. j “ You will do yourself no good by this j assumption of innocence,” said he, sternly. ! “I rather wonder you should try it on. I should advise you to make a clean breast of the matter ; Mr. Dodd is a kind man, and I feel sure will be as lenient as justice will allow him to be.” | “I cannot imagine what you are driving at,” said Frank, beginning to feel angry ; ‘'perhaps you will tell me. Jakes; what am I called upon to confess ? ” The old man looked at him with a dawning hope in his eyes. “ The cheque is forged, Armitage,” he said, in a low, shaky voice. “ Forged ! ” cried Frank, amazed; then, with a quick glance, first at the trembling old clerk and then at the manager "Forged ! ah ! I begin to see it all now. And you really think I am the forger ! ” “What else are we to think?” returned Mr. Price, coldly; “ but I really do not see that anything is to be gained by arguing the point. Facts are stubborn things, as you will find.” ‘.‘l am to be judged and condemned, then, without proof or, parley ? ” cried Frank, hotly, his grey eyes flashing and his brows knit. “There will be parley enough, no doubt,” replied the manager, with a sarcastic smile; “as for proof, we have it here,” and he laid his finger on the cheque. “ Yes ; proof that a forgery has been committed, but no proof that I did it,” returned Frank, indignantly. “Mr. Price, you have known me in a business way for years; you knew my father. Can you believe, seriously, that I could do, such a thing, not only wicked, but objectless—mad ? Why, if I wanted money I had but to ask Mr. Dodd; no man living is more generous than he.” The manager looked at him doubtfully; the young man’s honest face and open manner disarmed him; but, as he had said before, “ facts are stubborn.” “ How do you account for this cheque, then ? ” he inquired, in an altered voice. “ I know nothing about it,” replied ’ Frank, “ except that it was given me yesterday by young Mr. Dodd. He told me he wanted it cashed, and I was to bring it to him in gold, not notes. I had many other things upon my mind, and look little notice of it; I do not even know if the cheque is drawn upon himself jr his father. 1 wish you would allow me to examine it, Mr. Price. I cannot help thinking there must be some mistake. Surely you don’t suppose I should destroy it ? What good would that do ? ” Mr. Price handed him the cheque, looking a little ashamed of his suspicions. Frank carried it to the light, and looked at it carefully; “Yes,” he said, quietly, returning it to the manager, “it is a forgery, without doubt. What a fool I was not to look at it!” He sat down, with a sudden sense of despair. The trap had been cleverly contrived, and he had fallen into it with the most provoking simplicity. “ His umisual civility ought to have warned me,” thought poor Frank. The manager watched him curiously; he could not make up his mind whether the young clerk was innocent, or only artful. “What is your explanation, Mr. Armitage?” he asked; “not that I have anything to do witlx the matter, but I am curious to know what defence you mean to make.” “ I have no explanation, Mr. Price, but what I have already given you,” said Frank, gravely. “ You cannot mean to accuse Mr. Sam Dodd of forging his father’s name,” said Mr. Price, very coldly; “ he has himself a very large balance ixx the bank. Why should lie do such a thing P ” “I see,” returned Frank, in a low, depressed voice; “ no one can be expected to believe it. Good heavexxs! What a villain—what a cold-blooded villain! ” The manager made no reply; he was now convinced of Fx'ank’s guilt, and since he could seek to screen himself by accusing another, he felt xxo sympathy for him. He went into the outer office for a moment, and then returned. Fx’ank did xxot observe the movement, for he was lost ixx painful thought. In a few minutes the door opened, and a tall policeman made his appearance, touchhis cap to the manager as he entex’ed. “I am _ sorry it should be my duty to >/r Ve -i^°. u * n °harge, Mr. Armitage,” said Mr. Price, gravely. Frank looked up, not understanding at (i i T iat * ie . “eant; then the truth Hashed upon him, and he started up with a wild desire to escape; a mad impulse indeed, as a moment’s reflection told him. never thought of that! ” he gasped. 1 daresay not,” said the managexq drily. ° „ You mistake me,” said Frank, sadly; however, what does it matter? Of course, you are justified in what you . 'I bunk you, i’eturned Mr. Price, Vt itb a short, sax'castic laugh, which made 1 rank long to knock him down. Will you allow me to send off two telegrams ? ” lie inquired, with forced calmness. Mr. Price looked at the policeman. “jS t o objection, six’,” replied that worthy, in answer to the look, “provided the gentleman shows them first to you, sir, or to me.” ! Prank sat down, and wrote a short telegrxax to bis mother. “Detained on business; expect mo to-morrow.” His heart smote him as he thought how-little hope there was of his seeing her “ to morrow.” Then one to Mr. Dodd. “ Pray come by next train to bank. V“ : y important.” Ho passed them to the manager, who read th*m without com-

ment, and gave orders for Item to be sent at once. Again he felt puzzled; it was an unlikely thing that a guilty man should send for the person he had tried to rob. “Now, sir,” said the policeman, “if you are ready, we may as well be moving. Should you like a cab ? ” Frank assented absently, and Mr. Jakes went out to order one; he had been a silent spectator of the scene, and his sympathies were greatly excited. Frank passed through the bank, unheeding the many curious eyes which were turned upon him. That something terrible had happened the clerks knew; what it was they were only able to guess, at present. As Frank got into the cab lie felt a timid touch on his elbow; there stood the little, old clerk. “ I want to tell you, my dear boy,” he whispered, mysteriously, “ I don’t believe a word of it. You’ll come out of this all right, never fear. Keep your spirits up, and let , me know if I can do anything for you.” Frank grasped the thin old hand with a warm flush of gratitude; tears dimmed his eyes as he replied : “Thank you, thank you, my good friend*; you have indeed cheered me. But you are wrong in thinking that I shall come out right; the trap I am caught in has been cleverly laid. I do not see my way out.” “I must remind you, sir,” said the stolid “ arm of the law ” by his side, “that whatever you may say may be used against you.” “ I’ll remember,” replied Frank, wearily. “ Oh, Mr. Jake's,” he exc'aimed, as they were just moving off. “ you will see Mr. Dodd when he arrives. Ask him to come to me.” Old Jakes nodded, and the cab drove off to that dismal abode, graphically described by children as the “ lock-up.” The short November day was drawing to a close, and the gas was already alight when Mr. Dodd and his son entered the bank. Mr. Price received them in his private room. “I am glad to see that your son has come with you, Mr. Dodd,” he said, “ for this unlucky business concerns him as much as yoti.” ~; “Indeed,” said Mr. Dodd, sitting down upon the largest chair he could find ; “ what’s it all about ? ” The matter was soon explained by the business-like manager, and father and son. listened in silence. “ There’s some mistake,” said the old man, confidently. “I’ve known Frank Harmitage since he was a little lad. He’s quite incapable of a dishonourable Faction ; I’d trust him with all I ’ave.” “ Well, I don’t know,” said Sam; “ if all I hear is true, Avmitage has got into bad company lately; when a fellow goes in for that sort of thing, you never know what he may be led to do.” , “ I don’t believe it, Sam,” said his father, obstinately; “that’s all fools’ talk.” “But you see, Mr. Dodd,” resumed the manager, gravely, “this cheque is undoubtedly forged; if lie did not do it, who did ? He pretends that he received it yesterday from you, Mr. Sam.” “ Oh ! by George ! ” cried Sam, laughing, “that is a little’too much ! I gave it to him, did I ? He can hardly expect to make any one believe such an absurd story. What an ass the fellow must he not to pitch upon : some one, more likely. No one cooks a cheque without, a motive, and why should I roll my father when I have plenty of money of my own ? ” “ Just what I said to him,” remarked Mr. Price; “ no one knows better than we do that you can have no temptation to do such a thing, even supposing you were capable of it.” Mr. Dodd sat silent for some minutes, turning the matter over in his mind. Not for years had he been so distressed and perplexed. “ Where is he ? ” he asked, presently, raising his head. “ I gave him in charge at once, sir,” said Mr. Price. “ What! the police ! ” cried Mr. Dodd, in consternation. “Sam, go and call a cab; we must get him out of that at once.” “You do not mean to prosecute?” asked Mr. Price, in surprise. “Prosecute, sir! No, sir!” exclaimed the old man, excitedly. “Why, it would kill his mother. I wouldn’t hare such a thing on my conscience for twenty times the money.” “Well, but, my dear sir,” remonstrated the astonished manager, “ it is our duty to society to punish such offences.” | “ Society be hanged! ” said Mr. Dodd, ; roughly; “ I have enough to do to mind ! my own business. Besides, I am not | clear that tbe lad is guilty; there must be some mistake.” Bidding the discomfited Mr. Price good-bye in, rather a curt manner, Mr. Dodd squeezed himself into a cab, and drove off to rescue Frank out of the clutches of the law. Sam did not accompany bis father. His work was done. Chapter XVII, THIS, then, was Sam’s revenge! A life’s ruin was the price of an angry blow! j There was another motive ; but of this Prank knew nothing, for no whisper of the broken engagement had yet reached him. During the two hours which elapsed before Mr. Dodd’s arrival, Frank had ample time to review bis position, and the more he thought the darker grew his despair. Everything was against him, for he was poor, and might be supposed to need money, while Sam’s wealth made such an idea preposterous. No jury would acquit him, for what defence had he to make beyond his simple word of honour ? He was pacing the room with bowed head and gloomy brow when Mr. Dodd entered. “ Well, Harmitage,” he began, sitting down near him, but not offering his hand in greeting ; “ I hope you’ll tell me the truth about this business. I’ve known you from childhood, and never yet found you out in a falsehood; surely you’ll not begin now.” “ No, sir,” replied Frank, looking his old employer straight in the face; “ I shall tell you nothing which is not the honest, plain truth, and yet you will not believe me. I can see for myself how unlikely the story is. You will not believe it.” He spoke in a tone of despairing conviction. How could the old man be expected to believe a story so damaging to his son’s reputation ? “ You told Mr. Price that Sam gave you that cheque ? ” inquired Mr. Dodd, slowly. “ When ? ” “Yesterday, just before I left the office. We were alone. Ho told me to get it changed into gold, not notes.” “Sam declares that he gave you no cheque to cash for him either yesterday or any other day,” returned Mr. Dodd, slowly. “No doubt he would say so,” replied Frank, with quiet hopelessness. Mr. Dodd was silent. It was hard for him to believe in Frank’s guilt; still harder to condemn his son. All at once he remembered Sam’s remark about Frank’s bad companions. Doubtless here lay the solution of the mystery. Report said, that he had takea to

gambling; if tliis were true, he might have been led into crime, in spite of his former upright conduct. Such things have been. _ _, “ Fourteen years ago,” said Mr. Dodd, solemnly, “I stood beside your dying father. ‘ Sfcmuel,’ he says, ‘be a friend to my boy.’ ‘ I will,’ says I; ‘he shall never want a friend while Samuel Dodd is above ground.’ ” “And nobly you have redeemed the pledge, Mr. Dodd! ” cried Frank, impetuously. “ You have been like a father to me. Is it possible you can think me capable of robbing yon ?” Mr. Dodd shook his bead sorrowfully. “My boy,” he said, “ the best of us gets led astray at times. Youth is full of temptations. If your good father was standing here, he’d say, ‘Francis, my lad, own up —own up, and this here business shall be wiped out.’ So I say. It shall never be so much as named again.” “ You are most kind, most generous, Mr. Dodd,” answered Frank, “ and if I had done wrong I would confess; I would indeed. But how can I own to a sin I never committed? Surely—surely my life should be taken as evidence in my favour. Have I not guarded your interests as if they were my own ? Have I not fulfilled my] duties punctually and faithfully? Have I ever deceived you, Mr. Dodd ? You know I have proved myself worthy of trust. You know it, I say! How, then, can you believe me guilty of such black dishonour ? ” This passionate appeal moved 'Mr. Dodd. He rose, and paced the room in much agitation. It was quite true. Frank’s life was a direct contradiction tc the charge, and yet he could not acquit him —he could not, for to do so was to brand his son a forger, and worse than a forger. “ Frank,” he said, presently, “ what you say is true. You’ve been a good lad and a true lad ; yet you ar’n’t perfect; nobody is, for that matter. Tell you what it is, my lad, you’ve got into bad company, and so been driven to act contrary to your character. It has happened before to men older and wiser than you. All I ask of you is to make a clean breast of it; tell me the straight up and down of the thing, and we’ll wipe it out; it shall not even prevent that partnership we spoke of a while back.” * Frank shook his head sadly. “ I can tell you nothing but what I have told you already,” he said. “ I did not expect you to believe me ; you could not.” ! . “ Well, there’s nothing more to be’ done, then,” said Mr. Dodd, rising; abruptly.. “We must leave the matter, where it is for the present. Meanwhile,] if we are to get home to-night we must) be moving.” ; • He rang the bell, and the policeman" made his appearance. ; ; “ This gentleman must be discharged,; policeman,” he said. “ Mr. Price made: | a mistake by giving him into yoiu; charge.” A' " ; ! “A-mistake, was it, sir?” asked'the! man, looking puzzled. “Well, mistakes'" : does happen sometimes, sir. I’m sorryj to have put the gentleman to incon-i venience.” - -■'! > “You only did your duty,” replied Miv Dodd. “ Come along, Frank,” and putting some silver into the policeman’s hand, he led the way out into the street. ' J . ! 5 Frank followed, as if in a dream. 1 Was it possible, after all, that Mr. Dodd was convinced of his innocence ? (“You believe me; then?” he asked, eagerly. - i “No ; no I cannot say that,” | answered Mr. Dodd; “ but we’ve no need |to put the affair into the hands of the police. ’Ang the police! Price ought to : have known better! ” * “ I don’t see that,” said Frank,' bitterly. “A dishonest man ought to be in custody.” Mr. Dodd fairly stamped with grief and perplexity. ' : ; ■ "••• • “ Blest if I know whether I’m standing on my ’ead or my ’eels,” he groaned. “I’d sooner ' have paid down five thousand pounds than this should have happened. Seems to me all the troubles are coming at once. Here’s Helsie throws up. my Sam—l don’t blame her, poor little gel, i but it’s a sore blow to me; and now comes this misfortin’. I don’t know what the world’s coming to.” Sad at heart as he was, Frank received this unexpected news with a rush of joy and gratitude —joy soon quenched in pain. Elsie was free, but alas i further from him than ever. j Presently he roused himself. “ I ought to thank you, Mr. Dodd,” he said, quietly. “To me it matters little whether you prosecute or not. My ruin is inevitable, but your forbearance will save my mother much distress.” ( “Ah! your mother! Yes, I have been thinking of her, too. I have been considering if it would not be possible to spare her. any knowledge of what has happened. Of course you cannot stay at the mill; that would not be right; but you could find some excuse for giving us notice. What do you say?” “ I say it is just like yourself to suggest such a thins.” said Frank, sratf. fully; "but it would be impossible to curvy it out; you would see it, too, if you knew how completely one my mother and I are. I never had a secret from her that J can remember, and certainly never did a wrong thing that I did not confess to her. To save her pain. I might try to do what you propose, but she would find me out before long, and it would break her heart to think I had tried to deceive her.” Mr. Dodd was silent. The picture unconsciously drawn by Frank of his home life impressed him more than anything that had yet been said. Was it likely that a young man who lived in such, union with his gentle, saintly mother, could all at once be guilty of so black: a crime ? He could not make Never in the whole course of his.'bituple life had he been so distressed. . It wrung bis heart to turn his back upon tbe son of his old friend and benefactor ; yet what else could he do ? When Frank reached home, he made an effort to meet his mother cheerfully. He dreaded the shock of such evil tidings upon one so delicate. But it ia' not possible to hide misfortune from loving eyes. Although Frank entered the room with a smile upon his lips, his. mother read disaster in every line of his haggard face. “Back again, mater, darling,” he said, throwing himself into an easy chair. “ When I sent the telegram, I thought I cou’d not get home till to-morrow.” “ Thou’rt worn out, my dear,” she replied, looking pale and anxions. “Thou must have supper before troubling thyself to talk,” and she set herself to supply his obvious need of refreshment. Frank made short work of his supper; the task he had before him robbed him of. all appetite. He soon arose from table,’ and threw himself upon the rug at. hist mother’s feet. 1 ■ 'it.il [continued elsewsehe. Jj