“It is shameful!” exclaimed Mr. Brackett, indignantly.
“It’s outrageous!” chimed in Mrs. Brackett, furiously.
“You would never have known of this conspiracy but for me, Lucinda,” said George White.
“No more we should, George,” said his sister.
“And yet you grudge me the small sum you agreed to pay me.”
“Jeremiah,” said Mrs. Brackett, her parsimony overcome by this consideration, “it is true what George says. We must manage to pay him the money.”
“If you think best, Lucindy,” said her husband, submissively; “but allow me to suggest that if it is true, and we lose father’s money, we shall be very close-pressed ourselves.”
“You don’t understand, brother-in-law,” said White, “that the theft of your bank book will blast Henry’s, or rather Andy Gordon’s, reputation, and consign him to a prison.”
“That will be one comfort,” said Mrs. Brackett, her eyes lighting up with malicious exultation.
“Moreover, when the old man finds out what a scamp the boy is, he won’t be very apt to make him his heir.”
“George, you’re a great man,” said Brackett, admiringly. “It takes you to find out things.”
“Thank you, Jeremiah!” said White, modestly.{245} “You must remember that I have knocked about the world long enough to get my wits sharpened.”
“What shall we do about this matter? How shall we proceed? Shall we have the boy arrested?”
“I’ll tell you. Send for the old man and the boy at once. Then we’ll go upstairs together and discover the bank book in the boy’s drawer.”
“There’s one objection,” said Brackett, uneasily. “Father doesn’t know that we have any money in the savings bank.”
“And you didn’t mean that I should know, either, Jeremiah,” laughed White. “No matter. Look out for number one. That’s my motto, and I can’t complain if it’s yours also. The old man will have to know now. You can explain the matter some way.”
Mr. Brackett went up to Mr. Dodge’s room and called him down, while Mrs. Brackett, with a stern frown, summoned Andy from the yard, where he was at work.
When all were gathered in the sitting room, Mrs. Brackett began.
“Father,” she said, “we have made an unpleasant discovery.”
“What is it?” asked the old man.
“We have discovered that there is a thief in the house.”
Curiously it chanced that neither Andy nor Mr. Dodge looked nervous, but each fixed his eyes upon George White.
“Well,” said Simon Dodge, after a pause, “who is it?”{246}
“It is that boy!” said Mrs. Brackett, venomously, pointing to Andy.
Andy started, but did not look at all panic-stricken.
“Who charges me with being a thief?” he demanded, boldly.
“I do!” said George White, smiling triumphantly.
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” said Andy, contemptuously.
“How he brazens it out!” thought Mrs. Brackett.
“Yes,” she said, aloud. “My brother has found you out in your evil doings.”
“What is Henry charged with stealing?” asked Mr. Dodge, mildly.
Now it was Mrs. Brackett’s turn to look confused.
“Tell him, George,” she said.
“My sister’s savings-bank book,” answered White.
“So you have a deposit in the savings-bank?” said Simon Dodge, in a tone which rather disconcerted his self-styled daughter-in-law.
“Jeremiah and I, by great economy, had saved something,” she explained, hurriedly; “though we could hardly hope to keep it long, on account of our increasing expenses.”
“Suppose we go up to the boy’s room, and convince you all of his character,” said White.
“Lead on, sir!” said the old man, with dignity. “I shall not believe that Henry is a thief till I have the most convincing proof.”
“You shall have the most convincing proof, sir,” said George White, pompously.
Together they went upstairs, and filed one by one into the attic chamber occupied by our hero.
George White stepped up to the dressing table already referred to, and opened the drawer wide.
From the corner he drew out the savings-bank book.
“There!” said he, with a flourish, “what do you say to that?”
“What do you say to it, Henry?” asked Simon Dodge, kindly.{247}
“That I never saw the book before in my life,” answered our hero, promptly.
“What a brazen liar!” ejaculated Mrs. Brackett, holding up both hands in a theatrical manner.
“Then how did it get there, Henry?” asked Brackett, thinking that the question indicated extraordinary sharpness. “It couldn’t get into the drawer of its own accord, I take it.”
“I agree with you, sir,” said Andy, not appearing so much overwhelmed as his questioner expected.
“Then perhaps you’ll be kind enough to tell us how it did get there, young man,” said George White, magisterially.
“I will, sir,” answered Andy, with the utmost coolness. “You put it there.”
“I put it there?” exclaimed White, looking around him, with a mocking smile. “My young friend, that is entirely too thin.”
“Oh, yes, Henry!” chimed in Mr. Brackett. “You can’t make us believe that story, you know.”
“I’d like to box your ears, you young slanderer!” exclaimed Mrs. Brackett, glaring at poor Andy, who, however, did not appear to be withered by her glance. “You’re a humbug, as well as a thief! You’re an impostor, and we’ve found you out.”
“How is Henry an impostor?” asked Mr. Dodge, mildly.
“His name is no more Henry Miller than mine is,” vociferated Mr. Brackett, furiously.
“How is that, Henry?” asked Mr. Dodge.
“Mr. Brackett is perfectly right,” said our hero.
“Yes,” confirmed Simon Dodge; “since you have found it out, I may as well introduce Henry Miller as my grand-nephew, Andy Gordon, of the town of Hamilton.”
“What do you say to your grand-nephew turning out to be a thief?” asked Mr. Brackett, triumphantly.
“What do I say? I say that it’s a lie!” answered the old man, unexpectedly.{248}
Mr. and Mrs. Brackett stared at each other in dismay.
“He’s been detected in the act. The book was found in his drawer.”
“And that man put it in,” said the old man, with spirit, pointing to George White.
“How dare you say this?” demanded White, angrily.
“Because I have been in the house all the afternoon. I saw you steal into your sister’s room and presently emerge with the book. I afterward saw you go up with it to Andy’s room. The inference is plain enough.”
“I don’t believe it,” said Mrs. Brackett, faintly.
“Perhaps you will when you hear a little more about this precious brother of yours. Andy, tell Mrs. Brackett what you know about him.”
For the first time, George White looked nervous and uneasy. Andy spoke without hesitation:
“The last time I saw him he tried to rob me of a large sum which I was carrying to deposit in the bank, three hundred miles from here. He was in company with an older man, who was caught, and is now serving a term of years in State’s prison.
“It’s a base lie!” said White, but his face showed that the charge was true. “The boy is accusing me to get off himself. Do you believe this shameful story, Lucinda?”
“Of course I don’t. The boy slanders you, George. Will you send for the constable and have the young rascal arrested?”
“As you please, madam,” said Andy, coolly. “I shall be able to prove my innocence.”
At this moment a loud knocking was heard below, and they hurried downstairs into the sitting room.
“Oh, it’s the constable!” said Mrs. Brackett, joyfully. “Mr. Peters, we were just going to send for you to arrest a thief.”
“Oh, you’ve found him out, have you?” asked Mr. Peters, looking rather surprised.{249}
“Do you know anything about it?” said Mrs. Brackett in equal surprise.
“This gentleman gave me full particulars,” said Mr. Peters, pointing to his companion, a quiet man in black.
“Who is he?”
“Detective Badger, of New York.”
“I see the man I want,” said Badger, quietly. “George White, alias Jack Rugg, you are my prisoner!”
“No, it’s the boy you are to arrest,” said Mrs. Brackett, hurriedly.
“Pardon me, madam,” said the detective, “I know my man. Indeed he is well known to the metropolitan police.”
White tried to dash by, but unsuccessfully.
The detective brought out a pair of handcuffs, and, with the help of the constable, secured him.
Mrs. Brackett sank into a chair in consternation. She had had no idea of her brother’s desperate character, and was unable to utter a word. When the police authorities had carried away their prisoner, Mr. Dodge said to Mr. and Mrs. Brackett:
“After what has occurred, I decline to pass another night under your roof. Andy will go with me to the hotel, and I shall leave you to-morrow, to spend the remainder of my days in his mother’s house.”
“So this is what you have been plotting, is it?” asked Mrs. Brackett, her eyes flashing. “This is why this boy crept into our home under a false name and under false pretenses!”
“He came because I wrote to his mother, asking her to send him,” said Mr. Dodge, with dignity.
“He came to help me, and necessarily had to take a new name, in order not to excite your suspicions.”
“Your mind has failed,” said Mrs. Brackett, sharply, “and you have fallen a victim to designing people.”
“No, madam. My mind has not failed!” said Simon Dodge. “I have escaped the designs of your{250} husband and yourself, to whom I have already been more liberal than you had any right to expect. What property I have left will go to this boy, who is my heir, and I recommend you to destroy the forged will, which you instigated your brother to write. Should you undertake to interfere with me, this criminal project of yours shall be revealed to the public. Come, Andy, go and pack your things. We shall not spend another night under this roof.”
Half an hour later a carriage drew up to the door, and Andy and the old man drove away, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Brackett utterly overwhelmed by the discovery of their nefarious plans.