CHAPTER XII.
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.
Mr. Hobart was not the only friend Terry had among the employes atDrummond and Brown's. The storeman, John Connors, had always been kindto him in his own rough way. He pitied the boy because of his drunkenfather, and liked him because of his pluck and energy.
Having no boys of his own, he had several times, half in jest, half inearnest, offered to adopt him; and although his proposition could notbe considered, it strengthened the warm affection that Terry felttowards the bluff "boss" of Long Wharf.
Intense, then, as was his relief that it was not his father who hadbeen arrested for the stealing of the black bag, there quickly followedfeelings of keen surprise and sorrow, for the suspected criminal provedto be no other than John Connors, in whose possession had been found abag presumed to be the one taken from Mr. Drummond's desk.
Terry listened for a while to the conversation of the clerks as theyexchanged wondering conjectures in reference to the matter, and all thetime the conviction grew stronger within him that, however appearancesmight be against him, Connors was no more guilty than he was himself.At length he could not keep silence, and burst out with,--
"John Connors never stole the bag. I'm sure he didn't."
His fervent declaration of faith in the storeman's innocence roused alaugh, and one of the clerks turned upon him with the question,--
"What do you know about it any way that you're so sure as to who didn'tdo it?"
Instantly there came up in Terry's mind the scene at home, and themysterious gold dropping from his father's pockets. What did he knowabout it indeed? Far more perhaps than he cared to tell just then.Regretting that he had spoken, he made no answer; and noticing hisconfusion, the clerk, attributing it to his being so sharplychallenged, added good-humouredly,--
"Never mind, Terry; we're a good deal of the same opinion. We don'tthink Connors is the man to do such a thing, and there must be amistake somewhere."
As soon as he got home Terry told his mother of Connors' arrest, andMrs. Ahearn, eager to seize upon any other explanation of the affairthan one which would involve her husband, said persuasively,--
"Now then, Terry, ye'll not be saying anything about your father tillye find out some more, will ye, darlint?"
Poor Terry was in a sadly perplexed state of mind. He firmly believedin Connors' innocence; yet he was by no means sure of his father'sguilt, and, without being able to explain to himself why, he hadhaunting suspicions as to Morley. How he longed to have a talk withMr. Hobart! But his friend was away, and there was no one else in whomhe had the same confidence, or to whom he could go for the counsel heso sorely needed.
Black Mike did not show himself in Blind Alley that night, greatly tothe relief of both Terry and his mother, for they dreaded seeing him intheir then state of mind. The two had a long talk before going to bed;but it did not make the future much clearer, although the more hethought over the matter, the more strongly Terry felt that he was notdoing right in withholding the information about his father.
Immediately on his arrival at the office next morning he was told notto go out anywhere, as he would soon be particularly wanted, andpresently he learned that he was to appear in the police-court as awitness at the preliminary examination of Connors. His heart sankwithin him at the prospect of this ordeal, and he felt as though hewould give anything to run off and hide himself until the trial wasover.
Shortly after eleven o'clock, Mr. Hobart, who had just got back thatmorning, told him to accompany him to the police-court. In profoundperturbation Terry obeyed. It would be his first appearance as awitness, and he had the vaguest possible notions as to what would berequired of him.
They found the court-room already crowded, for the case attracted agood deal of attention. It was a bare gaunt room, whose principalvirtue lay in its being well lit. Along the farther end ran a dais,upon which stood three desks, with a big black sofa behind; while overall hung a canopy bearing the royal arms of Great Britain.
As the market clock sounded out eleven strokes, a door at the side ofthe dais opened, and the stipendiary magistrate, the presiding geniusof the place, appeared. He had rather an imposing port, which washelped by his full gray beard and large gold spectacles. Behind cameMr. Drummond and Mr. Brown, who at his invitation took seats upon thesofa.
Having adjusted himself comfortably at the central desk, he directedthe clerk, who sat in an enclosure behind him, to open the court.
A number of "drunk and disorderly" cases, which were represented by arow of men and women in various stages of rags and frowziness, hadfirst to be disposed of, the routine being to call up the policeman whohad made the arrest, listen to his statement, and without furtherinquiry impose fines of "five dollars, or twenty days," or "tendollars, or forty days," according to the gravity of the offence.
At length the dock was cleared of its unsavoury tenants, and the clerkcalled the case of "The Queen versus John Connors."
A perceptible stir and murmur ran through the crowd when Connors cameforward. He certainly had not the appearance of a criminal, anddespite his evident distress at his situation, there was nothing in hisbearing to indicate guilt. He had secured the services of Mr. Morton,the leading criminal lawyer, and was permitted to take his seat besidehim, instead of being placed in the dock. There seemed somethingreproachful in the glance he gave his employers, as though to say, "Youought to have had more faith in me than to put me here."
The preliminary formalities being gone through with, the examination ofthe witnesses was entered upon. Mr. Drummond, Mr. Brown, the officersof the blockade-runner, and Mr. Hobart gave their evidence one afteranother, while Terry listened to every question and answer as thoughhis own life depended upon the result. His mind was in a state of theutmost distress and indecision. His turn would come soon. How muchshould he tell? No one could have any idea of what he knew. Must hebetray his father, or had he the right to maintain silence?
Never in his life before had he been brought face to face with soperplexing a moral problem, and his early training was indeed a poorpreparation for its right solution. Indeed, had he been left to decideit by the standards of that training, it would have been quickly done;but during his short stay with Mr. Sargent in Boston a new view of lifehad come to him, in the light of which he saw his duty as he had neverdone before.
He looked longingly at Mr. Hobart, for he felt that a good talk withhim would be a wonderful help in straightening matters out; but therewas no chance of that now, and he had come no nearer a decision when heheard his name called by the clerk.
Dazed, and trembling in every limb, he entered the witness box, andtook tight hold of the front rail, for it seemed as though his kneeswould sink under him. In consideration of his youth and manifestperturbation, the prosecuting attorney questioned him very gently andbriefly as to what he knew, and Terry having told about seeing the baglocked up in the desk, hoped that the ordeal was over.
But to his dismay Mr. Morton now took him in hand, adjusting his goldspectacles so as to look straight through them into the boy's face; andassuming a very confident air, as though he knew all about it, therenowned cross-examiner said,--
"Come now, Master Ahearn, you're a bright-looking lad, and no doubt youthink a good deal. Have you been thinking much about this wonderfulblack bag?"
Terry started, and the colour deepened on his already flushed cheeks.Had he been thinking about it? What else indeed had occupied histhoughts since first he heard of the robbery?
His keen eye observing the boy's confusion, Mr. Morton, who as a matterof fact had intended simply to play with him for a few minutes while hecollected his own thoughts, for the case seemed going hard against hisclient, began to suspect that possibly the extent of Terry's knowledgehad not yet appeared; so, changing his manner from one of good-humouredraillery to penetrating scrutiny, he put the question straight to him,--
"See here, Master Ahearn, don't you know more about this matter thanyou
have yet told us?" Then raising his voice to a tone of command, hepointed his long finger at him like the barrel of a revolver, as hecried, "Out with it now. Tell the court everything you know, or--" Hedid not finish the sentence, believing it would be more effective toleave the consequences to be imagined.
The supreme crisis in Terry's life had come, and he had only an instantin which to make his decision. On the one side was duty to the truthand to the accused man; on the other, fear for his father and forhimself, for he did not know but what his concealment of his fatherhaving the gold would bring down punishment on his own shoulders.
To get out of the difficulty he had only to disclaim any furtherknowledge, and who could gainsay him? Glancing up for a moment at themagistrate, his eyes went past him to Mr. Drummond, who sat at hisleft. There was a look of deep concern on the merchant's face thattouched Terry to the heart, and instantly his decision was made. In avoice scarcely audible he murmured,--
"Yes, sir, I do know something more."
Mr. Morton's face suddenly brightened. Here perchance was somethingthat might help his client.
"Ah! ha!" he exclaimed, "I thought you did. Come, then, let us haveit. We're all waiting upon you."
In trembling tones and with many interruptions, Terry, helped out bythe lawyer's questions, related all that transpired the night hisfather brought home the gold. His story produced a profound sensation.Although Black Mike had been placed under surveillance, it was withoutresult; but now, through his son's evidence, his complicity in thecrime seemed on the verge of being established.
A distinct air of relief pervaded the court-room. Mr. Morton, lookingquite cheerful again, held a whispered consultation with Connors. Mr.Drummond and his partner did the same with the magistrate, while theother spectators buzzed to one another about the new turn the case hadtaken.
Feeling as though a fearful load had been taken off him, Terry, nowseeming very pale and tired, stood in the box awaiting furtherquestioning. But to his great relief this was not required of him, as,after some discussion, Mr. Morton asked for an adjournment until thefollowing morning, to enable Black Mike to be brought into court. Hisrequest was granted, and officers were sent out to find Black Mike.
When the proceedings were resumed the next day, not only Black Mike waspresent, but also Tom Morley, and there were excited whispers currentof yet more surprising developments than Terry's evidence hadforeshadowed. Before the day closed the whole mystery was unravelled,and a strange story it made for, as it turned out, neither John Connorsnor Black Mike, in spite of the circumstantial evidence against them,had any part whatever in the robbery, or share in its proceeds. Theentire guilt lay upon Tom Morley, and to the cleverest detective in theforce was due the credit of bringing it home to him.
It seemed that Morley was in the warehouse above the office when theofficers brought in the black bag, and, peeping through a pipe hole inthe floor, he had witnessed its being thrust into the desk. Then cameto him the thought of taking it, for he was sorely in need of money topay gambling debts. He remained in the warehouse until long afterdark, broke open the desk, and carried off the bag, effecting hisescape through the window.
By chance Detective Power had learned of Morley being remarkably flushwith money, and while the other officers were following up clues whichled to the storeman being arrested, he devoted himself to tracking thereal criminal, with the result of running him down, and obtaining afull confession from him, together with the greater portion of themoney.
As to the grounds of suspicion against John Connors and Black Mike,they proved to be easily explained away. The black bag found in theformer's possession turned out to be another one altogether; and withregard to the gold the latter had brought home, it belonged to anofficer of the _Colonel Lamb_, with whom he had been carousing, andwho, fearing he might be robbed, had handed it over to Black Mike forsafe keeping.
There was great rejoicing throughout the establishment of Drummond andBrown over the complete clearing up of the robbery, and Terry waswarmly commended for his fidelity to the truth. Mr. Drummond wasparticularly pleased with him, for when he understood the whole matterhe realized how trying had been the boy's situation.
It was not long after this that Terry was once more called in to Mr.Drummond's office, for his employer had something important to say tohim.
"I have been thinking about you, my boy," said he, "and have decided togive you the opportunity of making up for lost time in the way ofeducation; so I am going to send you off to a first-class commercialacademy, where you can stay two or three years if you will, and thencome back here qualified to make a valuable clerk. How would you likethat?"
Now, not so many months before, Mr. Drummond had made Terry a somewhatsimilar offer, and it had met with no encouragement. But the boy sawthings with different eyes now. He had been made to realize hisdeficiencies so keenly that the great desire of his heart was to havethe opportunity of repairing them, and he was all ready to spring atthe chance offered him.
"Faith, sir," he replied with a happy smile, "there's nothing I'd likebetter, if I may say so; and if you're pleased to send me, I'll do myvery best to learn all they'll teach me."
"I fully believe you will, my boy," said Mr. Drummond, smiling back athim; "I'll have arrangements made without delay."
For two full years Terry toiled hard at the academy, overcoming one byone many difficulties and temptations that beset his path, and makingsuch rapid improvement from every point of view that, when he returnedto his desk, the keenest eye could hardly have recognized in thegood-looking youth with so easy a bearing the ragged wharf boy of alittle while before.
During his absence Black Mike died in hospital, and kind-hearted Mr.Drummond placed Mrs. Ahearn in a comfortable cottage far away fromBlind Alley. Here Terry joined her, and the good woman had thehappiness of living to see her son become one of the most trusted andhighly-paid employes of Drummond and Brown.
Terry never forgot his own past. His heart was always warm in sympathytowards the boys that played about the wharves, and he lost noopportunity of saying a kind word or doing a kind deed on their behalf;and they had no better friend in Halifax than Mr. Terrence Ahearn, who,in rising from their ranks to a position of honour and emolument,showed no foolish pride, nor sought to conceal whence he had come.
THE END.