The Cleverdale Mystery: or, The Machine and Its Wheels: A Story of American Life

"Is he unkind to you, George?"

"No, he never speaks to me except on business matters. If he has anything to say, any little pleasantry to relate, it is always to Sargent, whom he treats in a far more friendly manner than he does me."

"What kind of a clerk does Sargent make?"

"He is a good accountant, perfectly correct, and very apt and quick to learn; writes a fine hand, and has the most wonderful power of imitating handwriting I ever saw."

"Do you have confidence in him? Is he a man you can safely trust?"

"H'm – well, he is your father's choice, he trusts him; why shouldn't I?"

Belle, with true womanly instinct, was not satisfied, and said:

"Be frank with me, George. You must have reason for distrusting him, and I ask your confidence. No one more than I can desire you to have a trustworthy clerk."

"I can only say I am not impressed with his honesty. Perhaps I am prejudiced, for you know he has not placed himself on record as one whose word can be relied upon. Belle, when Sargent stepped into the bank I should have resigned at once had it not been for you."

"For me! why?"

"Because your father wished him to have the position. No harm may come of it, but I have a presentiment of evil. Pshaw; it's a foolish whim, no doubt, and I should not be influenced by it, nor worry you with it. I think it is time for me to be off when I torment my sweetheart with presentiments. Good-night."

Belle went directly to her mother, who said:

"What is it, Belle? is anything wrong to-night?"

"Oh, I don't know. Why did papa engage that Sargent as bank clerk? He does not bear a good reputation. George does not have confidence in him, and I am afraid he is not a trustworthy man."

"You and George don't like him, eh? If you and George will please attend to your own affairs you will both appear to better advantage."

Belle started; it was her father who had spoken; he had entered the room unperceived, just in time to hear her remark.

"Papa, as you have heard me, I cannot recall my words. After his publishing such a statement about you, I cannot repress my indignation against the fellow. I do not like him, and with due respect to you have no confidence in him."

"If my daughter will not interfere in the public and private business matters of her father," said the Senator coldly, "but will be guided more by his advice and judgment, her future will be happier, and her companions not of that class who slander their betters."

So speaking, he left the room. Belle's temper rose quickly; the hot blood mantled her cheek, and her eyes flashed fire.

"George Alden's character is as far above that detestable Sargent's as the sky is above the earth. Papa hates those who are good and noble, but he takes to his confidence such men as Cyrus Miller, Paddy Sullivan, and that Sargent. Oh, this detestable politics! It steals the honorable instincts from good men, and makes them willing to sacrifice any and every thing to gain power. It has taken away my dear father, and left you a widow and me fatherless. God pity us both!"

Sympathetic words calmed the daughter's grief somewhat, and a few moments later, bidding her mother good-night, Belle gained her room and fell upon her knees before the only Friend who entirely consoled her when she felt desolate. She arose comforted. She was scarcely asleep when she dreamed that, again a little girl, happy and free from sorrow, she saw her father and flew to meet him. As her arms were about to embrace him, a serpent's head darted before her, the face changing to that of Sargent, who said:

"Beware, maiden! I am the god of political ambition, and am about to crush you in my coils."

As it wound its dreadful length about her she reached forth her hands and piteously implored her father to save her. He only laughed, and said:

"Oh, no, my daughter; I am the slave of the serpent. He demands your sacrifice, and I must obey."

Looking again, she saw the faces of her father's political friends, all laughing at her, and the serpent said:

"Only ten seconds to live!"

Closer and closer its coils tightened about her; she could scarcely breathe; her agony becoming unbearable, she gave a loud shriek, and cried:

"Oh, mother, save me!"

Springing to the floor, the frightened girl beheld her mother entering the room.

"What is it, child? How you frightened me."

"It was a hideous nightmare. I thought I was being crushed by a serpent."

After relating her dream, Belle tried again to sleep, but during the remainder of the night the phantom haunted her. Truly, her dream was only a presage of the grief and trouble in store for her.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE PRINCE OF MANNIS MANOR

Havelock, the home of Hon. Walter Mannis, is a beautiful village situated in a valley surrounded by lofty hills. The place is not a busy one, but the home of many old and wealthy families who reside there during the summer months. The streets are lined on either side with well-grown shade trees, and the handsome residences are surrounded by spacious grounds tastefully laid out.

Mannis Manor had passed down from father to son for four successive generations, each inheritor marking his ownership with additions or alterations until the fine old house displays architectural styles of different periods of the past century. Walter Mannis inherited this old manor and its two hundred acres, beside a fortune in cash of over a quarter of a million dollars. Having been in possession about ten years, with so much money at his command, is it strange that he had devoted much of his time to pleasure and dissipation?

Both parents dying during his childhood, in the conduct of household matters he was dependent upon a house-keeper, an inmate of the old manor many years before he became its owner.

Mrs. Culver felt her responsibility, and considered it her privilege as well as duty to keep a motherly eye upon the young master. One of those good souls found in every community, she enjoyed her work, and her word about the manor was law. Mannis humored her whims, for she was a most valuable member of his household. She was sixty years of age, prudent, systematic, orderly, thoroughly competent and trustworthy. While carefully managing household affairs, she devoted much time to the supervision of farm duties, acknowledging no authority except the master himself, who had great confidence in her ability. Looking after his domestic comforts, she kept his suite of rooms in perfect order; regulated his wardrobe, and saw every garment kept in repair. She occasionally scolded him for extravagance in dress, and he received her severe words good-humoredly, for he really loved the kind, motherly attention bestowed upon him. In sickness she was a valuable nurse, and her closet of "yarbs and nostrums" a curiosity. With cup and spoon in hand ready to dose a patient, she was supremely happy. She was proud of "her Walter," although the young man caused her many hours of anxiety.

At college he had sought merry young men for associates, and as he was provided with plenty of money he had no trouble to find them. Witty, vivacious, and eloquent, these brilliant adjuncts made him a lion in society, young men seeking him, while the ladies felt honored at his attention. He was a great flirt, and his conquests of hearts were frequent, yet he never until now had surrendered his own. While his eye sparkled with intelligence, it did not impress a student of human nature as being the eye of an honest man; even children could sometimes see in it something that made them distrustful.

He enjoyed the gay life money enabled him to follow, and much of his time was passed away from home. During the winter his abiding-place was the great metropolis. Allowing himself to be led to palatial gambling dens, he played, and lost heavily, yet his passion was not cooled by reverses. Wall Street tempted him, and his ventures at first returned him fair margins, but his later investments were unsuccessful. Becoming interested in politics, he was twice elected member of assembly, and his manner, fortune, and intellectual qualities made him a great favorite at Albany.

The legislator who can gain the personal friendship of his associates can accomplish more than the cold, dignified man, so often elected simply to give character to his constituency. Mannis was not only a good debater on the floor, but a "powerful persuader" between sessions, and could accomplish more with members from the "rural districts" than any man in either house. The farmer members looked upon him as a kind of deity. He flattered them, and when they were unable to frame a bill in presentable shape, assisted them, and thus won their regard, though for his own part he felt that many buckwheat producers had been spoiled by sending an equal number of farmers to the State Legislature.

Mannis was well adapted to politics, and really liked its excitements. Having served two terms, he was only prevented seeking a renomination because it had been the custom to alternate the office, every two years, between the northern and southern part of his assembly district. He seriously thought of overthrowing this old time-honored custom, but friends persuading him to wait or look for something higher, he turned his aspirations to Congress, and was trying to educate his forces to assist in the consummation of this wish.

In business speculations he was seldom successful, for money invested in many enterprises always returned him less than he put in. His losses troubled him, and he was often haunted with the idea that he would eventually become a poor man. Investing in government bonds and drawing the interest at stated intervals was too slow a way of making money. Observing friends gaining fortunes by speculation, he felt that he too could make money in the same way.

At the time this story began he had lost half his fortune in speculation and gambling, and realized that his available funds were gradually passing from his hands. His farm yield, though not enough to help him out of his difficulty, was, thanks to the management of Mrs. Culver, sufficient to support his household without making drafts on his bank account. But his extravagant private expenses worried and caused him hours of anxious thought.

"There's nothing else to do," he would say to himself; "I must make a wealthy marriage. With a fortune and a wife I can save myself and keep a life-lease on the old manor."

It was this thought that actuated him partially in his desire to wed Belle Hamblin. While he admired her brilliant personality, and confessed that he was never before so charmed with a lady, he acknowledged to himself that her father's fortune was necessary to save him from the financial disaster which he feared.

He sat in his room one evening smoking a cigar and thinking. All about were evidences of his æsthetic taste. Bric-à-brac crowded the mantels, while many fine pictures adorned the walls. Easels, arranged with a view to throwing light upon the works they held, were on all sides. Oriental rugs lay on the floor, while the luxurious furniture about the apartment seemed to coax the visitor or inhabitant to lounge upon soft cushions. Curtains of costly material hung before the large plate-glass windows, and as the afternoon sun peered through them it saw a picture of which the owner of the apartment was not the least handsome part.

A servant entered with a number of letters, which Mannis hastily shuffled through his fingers as if they had been cards. His eye quickly detecting the one he was looking for, he dropped the rest, and said:

"Here it is: let me see what the Senator has to say. What a man he is! He seems to be as infatuated with me as I am with his beautiful daughter. Well, I am infatuated with her; she is certainly the most charming creature I ever met; and I am determined to win with her her father's fortune also, for I have no father of my own to return to, and have the 'fatted calf' business done for me. Let me see what Hamblin has written."

Opening the letter, he read it carefully through, then smiled and said:

"Yes, he will do anything to rid himself of Alden. When I proposed entrapping him he was startled, but now can hardly wait for my suggestions. He hates Alden; he is ambitious that his daughter shall make a brilliant match; he thinks me the personification of brilliancy, and, by Jove, he doesn't miss it much. Ah, Senator, if you knew how I was running through my fortune you would change your mind. This is a very good joke you are playing on yourself."

Returning to his letters, he opened another, when his countenance suddenly changed, and he exclaimed:

"Great God! I am almost ruined!"

He arose, and for a moment walked the room without uttering a word, when he suddenly stopped and said:

"Fifty thousand dollars gone at once! I must raise the money somehow to pay what I have borrowed. What a fool a man is when he is not satisfied to reach forth his hand and pluck the ripe fruit hanging near him, instead of letting his appetite for the unattainable ruin him. What can I do? I cannot mortgage the estate, for that would expose me at once. But how can I raise the money – that is, who – will – lend – it – to – me? S-h-h! I have it. I can raise it in New York on the notes of my friends, and my friends need never know it. It is a desperate game, but my estate is good for it, and in an emergency men do many queer things."

He walked the room in a nervous manner, running his fingers through his hair, rubbing his hands together, and occasionally saying words that are not in the dictionary.

"It is the old story," he resumed. "I've killed the goose that laid the golden eggs. Well, there is one trick left in my hand, and that is Belle Hamblin. I will go to work at once and help the Senator get rid of Alden. I will go to Cleverdale on the evening train. The girl has a strong will, and is very correct in her ideas of right and wrong; if she hears that Alden is a defaulter she will shed a few tears and never wish to see him again. He must be sacrificed; so the quicker the better."

Ringing the bell, a servant appeared.

"Tell Mrs. Culver I desire to see her immediately."

In a few moments Mrs. Culver entered, and said:

"What do you wish, sir?"

"I am going away this evening, and will be absent a few days."

"But you don't look well; are you sick? I am afraid you are not taking care of yourself. I have been fixing some medicine for you, which you must take before going away. Young men are so careless, they don't know how to take care of their health."

"I am all right. Don't trouble your kind heart about me. I need fresh air and out-door exercise, and a two-day jaunt will tone me up. Tell Henry to hitch up the sorrels and take me to the seven-thirty train this evening. I shall take a nap first, as I have a headache, and after a light supper shall be ready to start. So, never mind your doctor's stuff. If I am not well on my return you shall have two days' enjoyment dosing me."

When the evening train left Havelock it bore away Hon. Walter Mannis, who had previously sent a dispatch to Senator Hamblin stating that he would be at the Cleverdale Hotel after the arrival of the evening train.

On his arrival he was greeted by Hamblin. A few remarks were made concerning politics and business, when Mannis said:

"I received your letter while preparing to leave for Cleverdale. From it I learned you have not changed your intention concerning Alden. You still mean to get rid of him?"

"Yes, he must be put out of the way, for since his promotion he is more obnoxious to me than ever. No time must be lost, for he is a more frequent visitor at my house than before. He must be dropped as soon as possible."

"Draw your chair closer to mine: we must speak low and be guarded. You ask what I have to suggest. My plan is this: Sargent, you say, will do anything you desire: well, is he a good penman, and can he imitate handwriting?"

"Yes, he is an expert at that business."

"Good! now for it. He must alter the bank books, and make it appear that Alden has embezzled five thousand dollars."

"Great God!" exclaimed Hamblin.

"Don't start, Senator; it is a desperate game, but it's often been played successfully. You say you shall get him out of the way at all hazards: well, this plan will effectually dispose of the ambitious young man."

"Suppose he shows fight?"

"He must be allowed to run away. You can work that up. The affair can be kept between yourself, Sargent, and Alden, and when the latter is exposed you can feign sympathy, telling him if he will leave at once the affair will remain a secret. Yes, you can even offer to loan him the money to pay the deficiency. Make the evidence so strong against him that he cannot possibly see a way of escape, and if I know anything of human nature he will run away rather than be exposed."

"Suppose he should first see my daughter, and she should advise him to remain and face the danger."

"It must be done when she is absent from home. You must find some pretence to send your wife and daughter on a visit to friends, or else send them to New York."

"You are a shrewd fellow, Mannis, and no mistake."

"A shrewd rogue, you mean."

"No, I do not. In this affair I am but doing the duty that a father owes to his child. She is in danger of being sacrificed to an adventurer who only wants her father's money. But she shall be saved."

The plotters talked a while longer about the matter; then Senator Hamblin withdrew, and Mannis said to himself:

"Now my case does not seem as desperate as it did."

And as Senator Hamblin stepped into the street, he said:

"I don't like this affair at all, but I am losing heavily, and the ventures I have lately made have turned out bad. Mannis' fortune added to my own will save me from disaster. Poor Belle must be temporarily made unhappy, but when she finds herself the wife of Hon. Walter Mannis perhaps she will thank me for saving her."

Perhaps the state prisons will one day hold the great rogues instead of small ones, but they did not do it in 187–, or the above recorded conversation could not have taken place.

CHAPTER XVII.

SARGENT ENLISTED

The time was approaching for Senator Hamblin to take his seat in the State Senate. After his interview with Mannis his conduct toward his daughter and George Alden underwent a change.

Gradually assuming a loving deportment toward the former, he paid much attention to her personal comforts; in fact, began to act more like his former self. His cold formality seemed to thaw, and Belle was happier, while her mother entered a new era of existence as the husband's old manner returned. The change not only took place in his own household, but his demeanor toward the cashier was greatly altered for the pleasanter.

Late one afternoon the president, calling the teller into his private office, said:

"Sargent, I shall be here this evening doing private work. I want to see you about half past seven o'clock. Come in here as if on your own business, and if I am not alone go out and return soon afterward. Say nothing about this, but come on time. You can go now."

The latter withdrew, but was shrewd enough to comprehend that he was wanted on something important. The bank closed at the usual hour, and all left for home except the Senator, who arose and nervously walked the floor for a few moments, drops of perspiration standing on his brow.

"Great heavens! what am I about to do? This troubled conscience is horrible. But shall I go to pieces financially? No! I must not give way to this weakness. What would the world say were I to become bankrupt?"

He resumed his seat by the table, began looking over his papers, and for an hour spoke no word, only an occasional sigh escaping him. At length he said:

"What a villain I am! Yet, isn't it better to save myself and my reputation than allow this opportunity to pass? Mannis and his fortune can save me: it is no time to turn back."

Putting on overcoat and hat he left the bank, and on entering his home met Belle, who gave him a kiss. To his conscience this token of affection was like molten lead, and leaving her he went directly to his own room, saying:

"My God! how can I strike this blow at her heart?"

At the tea-table he appeared uneasy and ate little, and being questioned by his wife and daughter only said:

"I have a slight headache – that is all; it will soon pass off."

Shortly afterward Belle came near him, and said:

"Papa, won't you stay home this evening? I will bathe your head, and perhaps it will relieve the pain."

"No, my daughter, I have very important business at the office this evening."

"Let business go for once; be my patient, and I will be your gentle and loving nurse."

Little did the kind-hearted girl know that she was plunging daggers into her father's heart, and that every word of endearment pierced him to the very soul.

Abruptly leaving the house, he went directly to his office, when he was joined by Sargent. The latter was dressed with scrupulous care, for he was a great dandy, and spent most of his salary for clothing. Senator Hamblin beckoned him to approach and be seated, and hesitating before commencing his business, fumbled over his papers a few moments, and then said:

"Sargent, a few weeks ago you offered to do me a service. Can I enlist you in a cause that interests me deeply, if it will also be of great advantage to you?"

"Yes, sir; you can ask me nothing that I would refuse to do."

"That is well spoken. But first, I wish you to swear you will not betray my confidence."

"I swear that, whatever you ask of me, no living person shall ever learn its nature."

"To begin with, you know I do not like Alden."

"Yes, sir; I found that out the first day I entered the bank."

"I have reason to know that Alden does not like you, Sargent."

"I am also aware of that."

"You are a shrewd fellow."

"Not very, sir, but any one can see Alden has no confidence in me. A day never passes without his showing it."

"How would you like his place, Sargent?"

"It would be the happiest day of my life when I could displace the fellow by stepping into his shoes."

"Would you be willing to take any chances to accomplish that very thing?"

"Yes, sir, I would do anything – except resort to bloodshed – to become cashier."

"I have a reason for wishing to get rid of him."

"Yes, sir, I think I know why."

"Ah, you do? Why is it?"

"You do not want him for a son-in-law."

"That's it, exactly. Now how can we get rid of him? Have you any ideas on the subject?"

"I have not thought of it, but will carry out any plan you may suggest. Don't be afraid to trust me, for I hate the fellow even worse than you do. He has lorded it over me the past few weeks, and I would like to see him disgraced."

"Well, have you any idea you could arrange a trap for him to fall into?"

"Yes, yes; a job could be put up that would send him to prison and, blast him! I would be glad to boss it."

The words were spoken with force, direct from the heart of the teller, so the Senator at once saw his way clear.

"What can you do and when can you do it?" he asked.

"With your assistance and co-operation I can fix a job making him a defaulter," replied Sargent.

"Go to work at once. Keep me informed of your movements. Be discreet, and report your plans to me here to-morrow evening. Your reward for the faithful performance of the work shall be the cashiership."

The two separated, and as Sargent passed out he smiled, and said to himself:

"I will crush the fellow, and glory in his downfall. I wonder, though, if some day the Senator won't put somebody up to crushing me in the same way?"

CHAPTER XVIII.

GEORGE AND FANNIE ALDEN

George Alden resided in a neat little cottage on a side street. His house was presided over by his sister Fannie, his senior by ten years. The dwelling, in no way pretentious, was simple in all its appointments, and the very perfection of neatness. The little parlor was not elegant, but all about were to be seen evidences of the cultivated taste of its occupants.

The tables were covered with books of poems from both early and later authors, while many classical works could be seen upon the shelves of a pretty but quaint mahogany bookcase that rose from floor to ceiling on one side of the apartment. The handsomest piece of furniture in the house was a large square piano. On entering we behold a dark-haired lady sitting before the instrument, while her fingers glide over the ivory keys.