CHAPTER III
MAKING A START
Two days later Tom Fernlea again called on Roland.
"My father says will you look round to his office to-morrow morning? Hedid not tell me exactly what he wanted you for, but I expect it is allright. He was very much interested in what I told him yesterday, andwhen the old man takes a thing up he generally carries it through, so Iexpect there is something in the wind. What a pity it is, Roland, youdid not see your father before he went away! I have been thinking itover, and it seems to me that if he had told you the wholecircumstances, you would have been sure to have got some clue to workupon."
"That is what I have thought a hundred times, Tom. I hope that we shallhear from him ere long. I may tell you privately that he is in Canada.My mother has had two short notes from him. He is evidently in a sadlydepressed state, but says he is well. The letters having Canadian stampson them, we knew they came from there, but he says nothing about wherehe is. He is no doubt afraid that he may be traced and his extraditiondemanded; but I hope soon that he will give us some address to which wecan write to him. Directly he does, I shall send him a letter sayingthat I am settled here, and am going to make it the business of my lifeto prove his innocence, and shall implore him to write to me fully everydetail he can respecting the affair, as his story may give me some sortof a clue as to the real thief."
The next morning Roland presented himself at the office of Mr. Fernlea,who was the leading lawyer of the town. He was at once shown into theinner office.
"Glad to see you, Roland; you have not been up at the house with Tom forthe last month. He has been talking to me about this business of yourfather's. I quite take the view you do. I have been puzzled over theaffair ever since I first heard of it, but your father's foolish flightdeceived me, as well as the rest of us. I have no doubt what you say iscorrect, and that he has been so badly scared that he helped the game ofthe rascals who are the real criminals by bolting. However, althoughthat may be your opinion and mine, it does not advance the case a bit.Your father, by his own act, has, so to speak, pleaded guilty, and hasbeen condemned and sentenced accordingly by public opinion, and I tellyou frankly that I don't think it is likely you will ever obtain areversal of the sentence. Still, I approve of the resolution which Tomtells me that you have taken. You could not have a nobler aim in lifethan to clear your father's name, and I am ready to aid you so far as togive you a seat in my office here with a salary of six dollars aweek--no great thing, but enough to keep you. It is unlikely, to mymind, that you will ever get any clue which will aid you; but if youshould do, I shall be most heartily glad to help you with my advice, orin any other way in my power. I had always a high respect for yourfather, and will be glad to assist you for his sake, but I may sayfrankly, I will do so especially because you are a great friend of myTom; and although he is not particularly bright he has, I think, enoughgood sense to choose his friends wisely, and indeed I know now, from myown observation in this instance, he has done so. Now what do you say tomy offer?"
"I am extremely obliged to you, sir; it is most kind of you, and is farbetter than anything I had hoped for."
"That is settled then; you may as well begin at once. Mr. Mullins willshow you what you have to do."
Roland was indeed glad at the opening which Mr. Fernlea had made forhim. The utmost he had hoped for was to obtain a position in a store,and as hitherto it had been intended that he should go to Harvard at thebeginning of the next term, the thought of entering a store had gonesomewhat against the grain. Now, with the position in Mr. Fernlea'soffice he might be considered not only to retain the position heoccupied among his school-fellows and friends, but to have taken thefirst step in a promising career.
When it became known in Brownsville that Mr. Fernlea had taken RolandPartridge into his office, there was much surprise and comment. Morethan one leading man in the place had made overtures to the lawyer forplacing his son with him, but he had always declined, saying that hefound that he and Mullins were able to get through the work, and that hedid not care for the trouble of teaching young bears. There was ageneral feeling among these that the lawyer had, in some sort of way,done them a personal wrong by thus taking into his office the son of adefaulter, and one whom they had hoped would be obliged to leave theplace from his inability to find employment there.
The lawyer, however, was not the man to concern himself with theopinions of others, and would have been unconscious of the comments hisdecision had excited had not Tom told him, laughing, that he hadoutraged the feelings of all the old women in the place. Tom did notforget his promise to write to his cousin in New York, and to interesthim in the search which Roland had undertaken, and did this soeffectually that he received a letter by return saying that the writerwould do anything he could to aid his old school-fellow, and that hewould set enquiries on foot among all his acquaintances in brokers'offices to find out, if possible, if any resident in Brownsville hadlately been going into extensive speculations. A few days after Rolandhad entered upon his new duties Mr. Fernlea called him into his office.
"By the way, Partridge," he said, "I have been thinking over that matterof yours with the idea that I might perhaps hit upon some clue uponwhich you might work. I have not done so, for a curious difficulty atonce presented itself. It naturally occurred to me that one of themethods to be first pursued was to find out through whose hands some ofthe stolen securities had passed, and then to trace them backwards; butwhen I came to think of it, it at once struck me that the list of thesecurities stolen had never been published. This was so singular and soout of the usual course that yesterday I spoke to one of the directorsof the bank, who had come in to smoke a cigar with me. He said it hadbeen decided by the board that as the frauds had extended over somemonths, and as the defaulter had got safely away to Canada, there was nochance of being able to recover the securities, which by this time hadprobably passed through a dozen hands, and it was thought better for thecredit of the bank, and so on, to let the whole matter drop, but ofcourse the defaulter would be arrested at once if he ever showed hisface in this country again.
"The course the directors have taken strikes me as being a very unusualone. I do not say that from some points of view it may not be a verywise one. The loss may be heavier than people suppose, and they maythink it better not to call any further attention to it. It may be thatit was policy, in fact I think perhaps it was so. Still, it is certainlyunusual, and angry men do not always take the wisest course. I said asmuch to my friend. From what he said, I gathered that they had been tosome extent influenced by a feeling of sympathy with you and yourmother, and by their respect for your father's former position in theplace. He said that was the view the president took, and that they allfell in with it. It wasn't my business to make any remark, and I changedthe subject, but I must own, the more I think it over the more unusualand singular it appears to me.
"No doubt they were influenced far more by the thought of the credit ofthe bank than by their sympathy with your father and mother, and I mustsay that I am glad I am not a large shareholder in the bank. Still, itis curious, and at any rate one result is that there are no clues to beobtained from following up any of the missing securities. Of course thedirectors all know what has been taken, but naturally they will keeptheir own council, and no help is to be obtained in that way."
Now that it was manifest that Roland Partridge was settled for good inBrownsville the little party who had from the first taken his sidegained ground rapidly. Their argument was indeed unanswerable: now thathe was there it was as well to make the best of it. Tom Fernlea andseveral others of his set would anyhow stick to him, and as he would bemet in their company it was of no use pretending to ignore his presence;it would indeed only cause unpleasantness and disagreement.Consequently, it was decided, with but few dissentient voices, headed byPercy Johnstone, that Roland Partridge should again be received into theset as if nothing unpleasant had taken place. Accordingly, he receivedan invitation to one of the first parties th
at was got up. He showed itto Tom Fernlea.
"Yes, I knew it was coming," Tom said, laughing. "We have won all alongthe line."
"Of course I shall not go," Roland said.
"Of course you will go," Tom replied. "Don't make a fool or a martyr ofyourself. What has happened was natural enough. People thought yourfather had got into a scrape, and all the shareholders of the bankconsidered that they lost a lot of money by him. It was generallythought that you would be leaving the town, and naturally there was somesort of awkwardness about your joining in our fun as usual. Nobodythought any the worse of you, for it was, of course, not your fault; itwas simply the awkwardness. Now that you are going to stay, the matterhas altered. A month has passed, and the story has become an old one.Everyone will meet you just as before, and I shall be glad to have youwith us again. Besides, if you were to refuse, it would place me andthe others who have stuck to you all along in a very uncomfortableposition; for whenever you happened to be with us, and we met some ofthe people whom you refuse to visit, we should either have to passwithout speaking, or you would have to stand aloof in the cold while wewere talking to them. You made up your mind to live here, and it is ofno use your putting your back up and going about like a moral hedgehog.So sit down like a good fellow, and write and say that you will be happyto accept the invitation; then go at once and secure a cutter for theday, and ask Cissie White if she will keep her old engagement. I amgoing to take Bessie Hartley, and I will arrange that two or threeothers shall start just at the same time and place, so we can all drivethere together in a party."
Roland felt that his friend's advice was good, and, although it neededan effort to follow it, he sat down at once and wrote saying that hewould be very glad to join the party. Then he went out and secured thecutter, and called at Mrs. White's and saw Cissie.
"I have been asked to join the sleighing party next Thursday, Cissie;will you let me drive you?"
"With pleasure, Roland. I have an outstanding engagement with you, youknow, and I have been hoping that you would call and remind me of it; infact I made so sure you would, that I considered myself engaged andrefused two invitations yesterday."
"That was good of you, Cissie; you have been my best friend all throughthis business."
"Not better than many others, Roland," she said quietly. "The two sideswere pretty equally divided all along, and, now we have won, it is atriumph for us all."
Four cutters drew up together at Mrs. White's door at four o'clock onthe Thursday afternoon. Tom Fernlea and Bessie Hartley occupied one; twoof the others were filled with couples full of life and spirits; whileRoland Partridge held the reins in the fourth. Cissie White was allready to start and came out at once, and was soon muffled in the rugs byhis side.
"Hoorah!" Tom Fernlea shouted as they started. "This is what I calljolly--a glorious day, capital company, and lots of fun before us!"
The whole party were in great spirits, and their laughter rose high as,at a rapid pace, they dashed along towards their destination. This was abarn belonging to the father of one of the party, who lived ten milesaway. Two or three of the boys had gone over the day before to sweep anddecorate the place. The contributions of provisions had been sent overin a sleigh the previous afternoon, and two or three cutters had drivenon an hour or two before the rest, to light the fire and prepare tea. Afiddler had been engaged, and after tea they were to dance, and driveback at ten o'clock by moonlight.
On the way the party overtook several of the cutters, and ten of themdashed up together in procession to the barn. The jingling of the bellsand the joyous shouts brought the early arrivals to the door, and therewas general greeting and shaking of hands, and Roland, who had ratherdreaded the moment, soon felt himself at home again. First of all thehorses had to be put up in the stables and some empty barns, and whenthis was done the boys made their way to the place of assembly. Someforty young people were gathered there, all in the highest spirits. Agreat wood fire blazed at one end, and over it hung a huge cauldron ofboiling water. Tables of boards and rough trestles were arranged downthe side of the barn. They were covered with snowy table-cloths, onwhich were placed a great variety of eatables.
A committee had decided what each of those present should contribute.The most solid viands had been provided by the lads, and cold turkeys,chickens, and joints of meat showed that there was an ample store forthe fifty who were to share the feast; while the variety of fruit-pies,cakes, and sweets of all descriptions showed that the girls had fullydone their share. As soon as the last comers had arrived the meal began,and all did full justice to it, for the drive had sharpened theirappetites. By the time it was finished it was growing dark, and whilethe boys cleared the tables and carried them outside, others lit thecandles, placed in the sconces hired for the occasion and nailed againstthe sides of the barn, while the girls washed up the tea-things andpacked them away in baskets ready for transport home on the followingday. Then came five hours of dancing, and as the clock struck ten theboys hurried off for the horses, and the party started for home. Rolandhad enjoyed himself thoroughly. With the exception of Percy Johnstoneand one or two others, everyone had behaved to him just as if the lastmonth had been a blank, except perhaps that there was a little extrakindness and cordiality, as if each wished to show how glad he or shewas to see him among them again.
"It was not so very dreadful, was it?" Cissie asked as they drovehomeward.
"It was not dreadful at all," he said. "I think, Cissie, half ourtroubles arise from our own selfconsciousness. We fancy people arethinking and talking about us, when in fact they are not giving us athought; and if one does but grasp the nettle firmly, one finds thatthere is no sting in it."
The next morning Roland received a letter from his mother saying thatshe had again heard from his father, and although he had not preciselygiven his address, he had given indications by which a letter could beaddressed to him under a name not his own; and Roland that night satdown and wrote to him at great length. He told him that he and hismother were convinced that he was the victim of another's misdoings, andthat he had determined that if it was humanly possible he would find outthe guilty party; but that before he set about doing so with any chanceof success, it was absolutely necessary that he should be in possessionof all the facts of the case, and he implored him to write fully andfrankly to him, giving him every detail, however minute, which couldbear upon it. He concluded by saying:
"My dear father, I know how very painful to you the thought must be ofappearing in the light of a suspected person in the presence of thosewho have known and respected you, but I cannot but think that it wouldhave been better if you had made an effort and faced it out, for yourinnocence must sooner or later have been proved. However, for the sakeof your good name and my mother's happiness, it is clearly incumbent onyou now to aid us to the utmost in our effort to re-establish your goodname, even if to do so you should have to come back and demand a trial.However, this is not necessary now, and I hope never will be. But thefirst thing of all is for us to understand exactly what thecircumstances were that have caused a suspicion of this crime to fallupon you."