CHAPTER II
TRUE FRIENDS
Late in the afternoon Roland went out to get a few things that wererequired. Suddenly he came on a group of half a dozen girls who had justfinished putting up the decorations in the school-room. The first couplepassed him with a bow, but Cissie White, who was walking next, stoppedwith her companion and shook hands with him.
"How are you, Roland? We have missed you at decorations this afternoon."
"I was sorry not to be able to come, Cissie," Roland said, "and I amsorry I shall not be able to keep my engagement to go sleighing on the26th."
"I am very sorry too; I should have been so glad to have gone with you,if you could have taken me, but I was afraid you would not be able to. Iwant to tell you, Roland,"--and she hesitated. "I don't know whetherpeople talk about such things, but I am sure you won't mind. I want totell you how sorry we all are about the news we have heard, and to say Ihope it is not going to make any difference to you."
"I am afraid it must make a difference, Cissie," Roland answered; "butthank you very much for what you have said, and I want to tell you thatwhatever people may think, I and my mother know that my father did notdo this thing that they accuse him of, and some day I hope to prove hisinnocence."
"I am so glad to hear you say so, Roland; it did seem impossible, andyet,"--and she hesitated.
"And yet everyone said so," he put in. "Unfortunately my father is avery nervous and sensitive man, and the thought of such a charge madehim well-nigh beside himself, and he went away; but he is not guilty forall that, and some day I will prove it. Will you please tell thepeople--the people I know, I mean--not that my father is innocent, forthey might not believe it, but that his wife and son are absolutely surethat he is so?"
"I will indeed, Roland, and I am very, very glad to hear what you say.You may be sure that whatever other people say in future, I shallbelieve it as you tell me. Good-bye now!" And again shaking handswarmly, she hurried away after her companions, who were waiting for herat the corner of the next block.
"What have you found to talk about, Cissie? I would have stopped andspoken too, only I could not think what I should say."
"I told him that I was sorry to hear the news," Cissie said, "and that Ihoped it would not make any difference to him."
"Oh, Cissie, you don't mean to say you alluded to that! How couldyou!"--a chorus from the others.
"Why not?" Cissie asked. "He knew that we must be thinking about it, andwhy shouldn't I say it? and I am glad I did, for if I had not spokenperhaps he would not have alluded to the matter, and he told me thatwhatever other people might say, he and his mother were quite sure thatMr. Partridge did not take the money."
There was an incredulous "Oh!" from her hearers, and Jane Simmondsasked, "What did he run away for, then, if he wasn't guilty?"
"Because he is sensitive, and could not stay to face such an accusation.Of course Roland did not say that he was foolish, but I could see thathe thought that it was an awful pity."
"I should think it was," Jane Simmonds replied sarcastically. "Of coursehis wife and son say they think he is innocent, that is only natural;but they won't get anyone to believe them."
"You are wrong for once, Jane," Cissie said quietly, "although I knowthat it must appear to you to be quite impossible; but, as it happens, Ibelieve them entirely, and although I am a very insignificant person,still I am somebody, and that, you see, upsets your sweeping assertion."
"Well, my dear," Jane Simmonds replied, "if you wish to retain yourreputation as a sensible girl I should advise you to keep your opinionto yourself, unless indeed you wish to set up as knowing more thananyone else in the town."
"I shall do nothing of the sort," Cissie replied. "Cassandra was lookedupon as an idiot, you know, but she turned out to be right. Brownsvilleis welcome to entertain the same opinion about me, and I am content thatthey should think so till I turn out to be right, as you will see willbe the case in the end; and now I must be off to tea."
The sale came off on the day arranged. No word had been received fromMr. Partridge, but his wife had hardly expected that he would write sosoon; and as she knew he had some hundred dollars in his possession whenhe went away, she was under no uneasiness respecting him. On the morningof the sale she went to her brother's, Roland's plan having finally beendecided upon as the best. The day before the sale Mrs. Partridgereceived a note from Mr. Johnstone saying that he should be glad toobtain a position for her son in a mercantile house in New York; towhich Mrs. Partridge replied that she was greatly obliged and thankfulfor the offer, but that Roland had quite made up his mind that for thepresent he should remain in Brownsville, where he hoped to obtain somesort of occupation.
The refusal was speedily known in Brownsville, Percy Johnstone spreadingthe news everywhere; it excited surprise among some, displeasure amongmany.
"I think it was wonderfully good of my father," Percy told his friends,"after the trouble and loss the fellow's father has caused, to offer toput him into a situation. I should have thought that he would have beenonly too glad to have got away from here, and I am sure his absencewould have been a relief to us all. I can't understand his motives."
Many others, even among those most favourably disposed towards Roland,were inclined to agree with Percy. His continued presence in Brownsvillewould be a source of embarrassment and trouble to those who hadpreviously been intimate with him, and it did seem strange that heshould prefer to live among people cognisant of his father's misdoings,instead of taking the opportunity that offered of beginning lifeelsewhere.
Mr. Johnstone's conduct in interesting himself on his behalf wasconsidered kind in the extreme. Still more surprise was excited when, atthe meeting of the directors of the bank called a day or two after thebeginning of the new year, after explaining the amount of the loss tothe bank, he said, in reply to questions, that he had not as yet offeredany reward for the apprehension of the fugitive, and had not indeedinstructed the police to take any steps in the matter. Rumours to thateffect had already been current, for the police authorities, wheninterviewed on the subject, had declared that they had no instructionson the matter; but it was generally supposed that this was mere officialreticence intended to lull the fugitive into security, while they werequietly working to arrest him. The announcement of Mr. Johnstone causedquite a sensation among his colleagues.
"I must say, Mr. Johnstone," one said angrily, "that your course in thismatter appears to me to be most extraordinary. As you did not call ustogether at once, we naturally supposed that you were taking all thenecessary steps, and that Partridge would, in a few days at latest, bein the hands of the police; and now you meet us and tell us that youhave done nothing. You said, in fact, when we wanted to go into thequestion on the morning after the discovery of the cashier's flight, andone of us suggested that a hot pursuit should be at once set on foot,that we could safely leave that matter in your hands, and that we hadbest confine our attention to the investigation of the accounts."
Several others spoke to the same effect, and Mr. Johnstone then rosewith his usual placid and undisturbed aspect. "Gentlemen," he said, "inthe first place I have not called you together earlier because just atthis time of year every man is occupied more or less by family matters;and as it did not seem to me that there was any extreme urgency in thematter, I thought I would allow you to enjoy the holiday undisturbed.Now, as to the main subject of your remarks, namely, that I have takenno steps to secure the arrest of our late cashier. Well, gentlemen, I amaware that in not doing so I have assumed a certain amount ofresponsibility. Certainly, when I met you ten days since, I had intendedto set the police at work without delay. For the first twenty-fourhours, however, I was so occupied with the investigations into thestate of the books, and, I may say, with reassuring the minds of ourdepositors and restoring confidence, that I had really no time to movein the matter.
"Then, gentlemen, came Christmas, with Christmas thoughts, Christmassermons, and Christmas associations, and I said to myself,
this man isundoubtedly a thief and a defaulter. But how stands it? The man shouldbe punished; but, gentlemen, for the last fifteen years he has been ourfriend. We have all been proud of him as a gentleman of singularculture. Most of us have been intimate at his house and acquainted withhis wife, one of the most charming ladies in our section. In all theseyears his conduct has been above reproach, and although he has hadpassing through his hands the funds of the bank, he has up till nowaccounted for them up to the last penny. There can be no doubt that themania of speculation, which is the bane of our civilization, seized uponthis unhappy man, and that in a moment, I may say of temporary insanity,he laid his hands upon the bank funds to meet some loss, intending, nodoubt, to replace them at the earliest opportunity.
"Well, gentlemen, that opportunity never came. We know the usual sadstory in these cases. Loss follows loss, and a man becomes desperate,until at last comes the inevitable discovery. Gentlemen, we all knowthat the man who does these things should be punished, but it seemed tome that no punishment that the law could allot would add very greatly tothat which he must be now suffering. Imagine, gentlemen, a man withrefined tastes and habits skulking, a fugitive from justice, perhaps bythis time half-way across the ocean, knowing that he can never raise hishead again in the society of honest men. There was nothing to gain, foryou may be sure that the money has long since passed out of his hands,and I feel that it would do us no good were he arrested and tried.Everyone knows now that the bank has made a loss; they are alsosatisfied that the bank is solvent; confidence is restored, and we haveavoided anything like a run. No one, indeed, has any idea how large thelosses really are outside this board.
"Now, gentlemen, if we were to have a trial, the real amount of the losswould become known; and although we ourselves may feel confident that wecan weather the storm, and can in time pull round, it is by no meanscertain that the public will take the same view. The run which has nowbeen averted might then take place, and the bank be compelled to shutits doors. And you know, gentlemen, that when you come to a forcedrealization of effects, how far the sum realized falls short of thevalue placed upon it, and how heavy the calls upon the shareholders tomake up the deficiency! Well, gentlemen, we are all large shareholdersin the bank, and now that ten days have elapsed, and we have keptmatters quiet, I ask you, is it worth while to run the risk of bringingruin upon the bank, and beggary upon its shareholders, merely for thepleasure of knowing that our defaulting cashier has got so many years ofpenal servitude?"
Put in this light the matter assumed a very different appearance. Thedirectors knew well enough that although they had put a good face on thematter, the loss did seriously compromise the stability of the bank, andthat the less the matter was dragged before the public the better. Thedirectors looked at each other in silence when Mr. Johnstone concluded.But one said: "The public will think it a most extraordinary thing thatwe do not prosecute."
"But we intend to prosecute," Mr. Johnstone said. "It is distinctlyunderstood that is our intention. But facts have come to our knowledgewhich leave no doubt that our cashier escaped into Canada within a fewhours of his leaving this place, and it is believed by this time he hascrossed the Atlantic. Should he ever return to this country he will, ofcourse, be prosecuted at once on grounds of public policy and as a dutyto the shareholders; but at the same time we have no objection to itsbeing whispered abroad that although the directors would strictly carryout their duty had the opportunity been afforded, they are at heart byno means sorry, both for the sake of the man himself and for that of hiswife, that he has succeeded in escaping before the hand of justice couldbe laid upon him."
After some further discussion, the view taken by the president wasunanimously approved of, and the report that the cashier was known tohave escaped into Canada, and had made his way to Europe, and that thebank authorities were convinced that he had managed to take but littlewith him, and were not sorry that the painful duty of prosecuting himhad been avoided, was speedily spread through the town.
The unpleasantness which his former friends had anticipated from thestrange resolution of Roland Partridge to remain in Brownsville was notexperienced, for he never showed himself in his old resorts, and wasseldom to be met with in the streets. It was known that he had appliedfor several situations, but without success, and that he was at presentliving in a poor lodging in the outskirts of the place.
"Have you seen Roland Partridge lately?" Cissie White asked Tom Fernlea.
"No, I haven't. I have not seen him since Christmas eve."
"Have you been to see him, Tom? you know where he lives."
"Yes, I know. No, I have not been there yet. I have been meaning to goevery day, but what with the sleighing parties, and one thing andanother, I have never found time."
"Then you ought to have found it," Cissie said indignantly. "I did notthink that you were that sort of boy, Tom. I thought that you would havestuck to your friend. I am downright ashamed of you."
"Well, I am ashamed of myself, now that you have put it so, though Ireally do mean to stick to him, you know. I have an engagement thisevening, but I will get out of it and go."
"You ought to have gone a week since," Cissie said, very littlemollified. "Call yourself a friend, and let your amusements stand in theway for ten days of your going to see a chum who is all alone and introuble! I would not give a fig for such friendship as that!"
"Well, you are a staunch friend anyhow, Cissie!" Tom said admiringly."It is not every girl who would care to stick up for a boy as you do forRoland."
"Why shouldn't I stick up for him?" she asked scornfully. "His motherand mine were friends, and many a pleasant afternoon have I spent there.Why shouldn't a girl stick up for her friend as well as a boy, I shouldlike to know? I liked Roland Partridge better than any of the boys inour set, and I don't care who knows it. And I say it is scandalous hisbeing cut because his father turned out badly, even if he did turn outbadly, which I don't believe."
"Oh, come now, Cissie, that is too much. Somebody said that you did notbelieve Mr. Partridge was guilty, but I put that down to pure obstinacy.Well, you need not look angry about it, because I like people who areobstinate for their friends; but I did not imagine that you really couldthink so."
"Why shouldn't I? I have a right to my thoughts, Tom Fernlea, I suppose,as well as you have. Do you think that Roland Partridge would tell alie?"
"No, I am sure that he wouldn't," Tom said. "All the years that I haveknown him I have never heard him tell anything like an untruth."
"Well then, why shouldn't you believe him now he says that he and hismother are absolutely convinced that his father is innocent? I supposethey are quite as likely to know the truth of the matter as anyone inBrownsville."
"Well, Cissie, if Roland says that, he must have grounds for such astatement. Anyhow, I will go to see him this evening. I need not tellhim, I suppose, that you sent me?"
"If you do I will never speak to you again, Tom Fernlea, so now youknow."
When Tom called at Roland's lodgings that evening he was told that hewas out, whereupon he took post at the door and waited for an hour, whenhis friend returned.
"I have come for a chat," he said, "old fellow, if you will let me in. Ihave been waiting for an hour to see you. I should have called before,but you know how engaged fellows are, just at this time of the year.However, I was determined I would come this evening, so I threw over theparty at the Dawsons', and here I am."
"I am glad to see you, Tom. Come in," Roland said quietly. He led theway up to his room, and lighted a candle.
"You are looking pale and out of sorts, old fellow," he said as he sawRoland's face. "I know you have had an awful lot to upset you, but stillit is of no use letting it make you ill. It is easy, I know, for me totalk," he went on, as he saw a slight smile on Roland's face, "for I amsure that I should be horribly cut up if I were in your position. Do youthink it quite wise, Roland, your determination to stop here? I shouldhave thought that you would be only too glad to be away from it a
ll, butthey say that you refused an offer that Mr. Johnstone made you of asituation in New York. Of course, you know your own business best, butif I had been in your place I should have jumped at it."
"Well, you see, Tom, it depends how you look at things. If I thought myfather guilty I would go right away, quick enough, but as I am sure thathe is not, you see I stop."
"Yes; Cissie White was telling me so this afternoon, Roland. I heardbefore that she was saying so, but it was not until she told me herselfthis afternoon that I believed she was quite in earnest. You will excusemy saying so, but up till then I had thought as other people do; butwhen she said that you had assured her that your mother and yourselfwere thoroughly convinced that your father was innocent, I saw mattersin an entirely different light. For I know that even on such a thing asthat, you would not say anything that you didn't really believe; but inthat case you don't mind my asking you why your father went away?"
"I don't mind your asking at all, Tom. I would much rather people spokeplainly what they think, instead of avoiding all allusion to thesubject. I was away, you know, when father went, but from what he saidto my mother I imagine that in some way, I can't say how, he felt thatcircumstances were against him, and that although he was perfectlyinnocent he was not in a position to prove it. He is a very sensitive,nervous man, and I believe he felt at the moment that anything in theworld would be better than standing up before everyone who believed thathe was guilty. I think that it was a terrible mistake; however, I canunderstand my father, whose disposition is entirely different frommine, taking the course he did. Now, believing as I do that he is thevictim of somebody else's crime, I made up my mind to stay here andbrave it out, in order that, if it be possible, I may find out who hasdone it. How I am going to set about it I cannot tell you, but I may saythat I will watch everyone who is connected with the bank, and possiblyI may obtain some clue."
"I understand now, Roland, and quite agree with you as to your course. Iam very glad that you have told me, for before, I could not make youout."
"Of course you understand, Tom, this is for you alone. If the real thiefhad an idea that he was being watched, it would make him careful anddiminish my chances. I had rather people thought that I had stopped herefrom pure pig-headed obstinacy."
"You have not got a place yet, have you, Roland?"
"No; I have applied for several situations, but have always met withrefusals; no doubt the people thought that I was better away out ofthis."
"I will speak to my father, if you don't mind, Roland, my giving him ahint of what your motives are. The old man is no talker, and I know heused to like you very much, and I am sure he will do what he can foryou. Is there anything else that I can do?"
"The thing I want to know," Roland said, "is if anyone connected withthe bank here has been speculating in New York, but I don't know how toset about it."
"Let me see," Tom said thoughtfully. "You know my cousin Arthur wentaway last year to a broker's office there; of course he knows lots ofclerks in other offices. Now, if you don't mind my writing to him andtelling him frankly all about it, I am sure he will set to work, heartand soul, in the matter, and maybe he will find out something."
Roland eagerly agreed, and then for a couple of hours the lads satchatting about school and other matters, and when Tom took his leave hefelt that he had cheered his friend up and done him service.