Chester Rand; or, The New Path to Fortune

"Oh, yes," answered Arthur. "I'm pretty smart, but few people find it out."

"You'd better ask the professor about Tacoma," suggested Arthur, during a pause in the conversation.

CHAPTER XXIX.

MR. FAIRCHILD'S TELEGRAM

"Tacoma!" repeated the professor. "Who is interested in Tacoma?"

"I own five lots of land there," answered Chester.

"Then I congratulate you. Lots are rising there, and are destined to go to a still higher point."

"How do you account for that?" asked Prof. Hazlitt.

"In three months the Northern Pacific Railroad will be completed, and that will give a great impetus to the growth of the town. I expect to live to see fifty thousand people there. Let me ask how you became possessed of these lots?"

"They were given to me by a friend now dead."

"What was his name?"

"Walter Bruce."

"Indeed! Why, I own three lots adjoining the Bruce lots. They are among the best located in the town."

"Would you advise me to keep them or sell if I have the chance?"

"To keep them, by all means. I shall keep mine. If, however, you wish to sell, I will myself pay you five hundred dollars each."

"Then I may consider myself worth twenty-five hundred dollars," said Chester, in a tone of satisfaction.

"Yes, and more if you are willing to wait."

"I think Mr. Bruce only gave twenty-five dollars apiece for them."

"Very likely. Mine only cost thirty dollars each."

"I shall begin to look upon you as a rich man, Chester," said Arthur Burks.

"Only a rich boy," corrected Chester, laughing. "I haven't begun to shave yet."

"I think I shall commence next week," remarked Arthur, rubbing his cheek vigorously.

"Since you own property in our neighborhood, Mr. Rand," said Prof. Nugent, "why don't you make us a visit?"

"I hope to some day when I can afford it," replied Chester, "but I didn't know till you told me just now that my lots were worth more than a trifle."

"If ever you do come, don't forget to call on me at the university. It is located in Salem, Oregon. I may be able to take a trip to Tacoma with you."

"Thank you, sir. I should like nothing better."

The next afternoon Chester chanced to enter the Fifth Avenue Hotel. He went through the corridor and into the reading room to buy a paper. What was his surprise to see his recent acquaintance, Paul Perkins, sitting in an armchair, reading a Minneapolis journal.

"Why, Chester!" exclaimed Mr. Perkins, cordially, as he rose and shook Chester's hand vigorously. "It does my heart good to see you. I was intending to call at your office to-morrow."

"You wouldn't have found me, Mr. Perkins."

"How is that?"

"I have been discharged."

"By that rascal, Mullins? It's a shame. I must see if I can't find you another position."

"Thank you, but it is not necessary. I have a place already."

"Good! Is it in the real estate business?"

"No, I am engaged on The Phœnix, a new weekly humorous paper, as one of the regular staff of artists."

"Whew! That is good. Do you get fair pay?"

"Twenty-five dollars a week."

"You don't say so. That is surprising. How much did you get at the other place?"

"Five."

"Then this is five times as good. You ought to give Mr. Mullins a vote of thanks for bouncing you."

"I don't think he meant to benefit me," said Chester, smiling.

"Do you have to work hard? What are your hours?"

"I have none. I work at home and select my own hours."

"Are you through work for the day?"

"Yes."

"Then you must stay and dine with me. It is four o'clock. We can chat for an hour, and then go to dinner."

"Thank you. I will accept with pleasure. Did you have a pleasant journey?"

"Yes; but I should have enjoyed it better if you had been with me. I called at the White House and shook hands with the President."

"Did you tell him you wanted an office?"

"No office for me. I would rather have my own business and be my own master. Washington's a fine city, but give me Minneapolis."

"I may call on you in Minneapolis sometime, Mr. Perkins."

"I hope you will. You'll find it worth visiting. It's a right smart place, if I do say it."

"I have seen a professor from a university in Oregon, and he has given me good news of my lots in Tacoma. I have five, as I think I told you. He offered me five hundred dollars apiece cash down."

"Don't you take it! They're going a good deal higher, now that the railroad is nearly completed."

"So he told me."

"I congratulate you on your good luck, Chester. I am sure you deserve it. But you haven't told me why you were 'bounced.'"

"Mr. Mullins said I wasted time in going his errands. It wasn't true, but it was only an excuse to get rid of me. He took his cousin Felix in my place."

The two friends went to dinner about six o'clock. At seven they came downstairs and sat in the lobby on a sofa near the door.

Through the portal there was a constant ingress and egress of men—a motley crowd—business men, politicians, professionals and men perhaps of shady character, for a great hotel cannot discriminate, and hundreds pass in and out who are not guests and have no connection with the house.

"It is a wonderful place, Chester," said Mr. Perkins. "Everybody seems at home here. I suppose everybody—everybody, at least, who is presentable—in New York comes here sometime during the year."

Just then Chester uttered a little exclamation of surprise. As if to emphasize Mr. Perkins' remark, two persons came in who were very well known to the young artist. They were David Mullins and Dick Ralston.

Mullins heard the slight exclamation and turned his head in the direction of the sofa on which Chester and his friend were sitting. So did Ralston.

"Why, it's your old boy!" he said.

Mullins smiled a little maliciously. He had not heard that Chester had a place.

"I suppose you are boarding here," he said, with a little sarcasm.

"No, Mr. Mullins, but I have just dined here—with my friend, Mr. Perkins."

Mullins inclined his head slightly.

"Has he adopted you?" he asked, in a tone bordering on impertinence.

"No, sir," answered Mr. Perkins; "but if Chester ever wants me to, I will. At present he is prosperous, and requires no help or adoption."

"Oh! Have you got a place?" asked Mullins, turning to Chester.

"Yes."

"In the same business?"

"No; I am in the office of a weekly paper."

"Oh!" said the bookkeeper, disdainfully. "They pay beggarly salaries at such places."

"Then I am favored. I receive more than twice as much as I did in your office."

Chester did not care to just state how much he received.

"That can't be possible!"

"It is a fact, however. Has Mr. Fairchild returned?"

"No. Why do you want to know?"

"I have no wish to go back, Mr. Mullins. Don't be apprehensive of that. I don't wish to disturb Felix."

Dick Ralston listened with some interest to the conversation.

"It strikes me the kid has come to no harm from being discharged," he said.

"I believe this is Mr. Perkins, of Minneapolis?"

"Yes, sir," answered the Westerner, eying the gambler with a penetrating glance.

"I shall be glad to be your guide if you wish to see something of New York. Will you join us this evening?"

"You are very polite, but I have an engagement with Chester."

"A mere boy! He knows nothing about the city."

"Still I am satisfied with him."

The two passed on and went into the bar-room, where they sat down at a table and ordered some liquid refreshment.

"Well, Mullins," said the gambler, "I am getting impatient. The days are slipping by, and you have done nothing."

"You know what I am waiting for. Yesterday a check for a thousand dollars was paid in at the office, and deposited in the bank to-day."

"Good! And then?"

"I will send Felix to the bank and draw out sixteen hundred. Will that satisfy you?"

"I see, and, according to our arrangement, Felix will hand it to me on his way back to the office, and then swear that it was taken from him by some unknown party. You have coached him, have you?"

"Yes. Of course, I had to let him into the secret partially, promising him twenty-five dollars for himself."

"Ten would have been sufficient."

"He would not have been satisfied. We can spare that."

"How soon do you expect Fairchild back?"

"In three days."

But on the morrow Mullins was disconcerted by receiving the following telegram:

"Expect me back sometime to-day. Fairchild."

CHAPTER XXX.

THE ATTEMPTED ROBBERY

Dick Ralston was in the real estate office when the telegram was received. Indeed, he spent a good deal of his time there, so that it was supposed by some that he had a share in the business.

"Look at that, Dick!" said the bookkeeper, passing the telegram to his confederate.

"Confusion! What sends him home so soon?" said Ralston. "Do you suppose he suspects anything?"

"No. How can he? Perhaps," said Mullins, nervously, "we had better give up the whole thing. You see how I will be placed. I'm afraid I shall be suspected."

"Look here!" growled Ralston, "I don't want to hear any such weak, puerile talk. How do you propose to pay me the nine hundred and sixty-odd dollars you owe me? Do you expect to save it out of your salary?" he concluded, with a sneer.

"I wish we had never met," said the bookkeeper, in a troubled tone.

"Thank you; but it is too late for that. There is nothing to do but to carry out our program. How much money is there on deposit in the bank?"

"About twenty-four hundred dollars."

"Then we had better draw out more than eighteen hundred. As well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb."

"You forget, Ralston, that such a wholesale draft will raise suspicion at the bank."

"You're awfully cautious."

"I don't want everything to miscarry through imprudence."

"Come, it is ten o'clock. Better send Felix to the bank."

"Better wait a little while. If we drew such a large amount just at the beginning of banking hours, the bank officers might suspect something."

"Cautious again. Well, wait half an hour, if you must. Call Felix and give him his instructions."

Felix Gordon came in at this moment, and was admitted to the conference.

"Felix," said the bookkeeper, "you remember the arrangement I made with you yesterday?"

"Yes, Cousin David."

"It is to be carried out to-day. I shall give you a check for eighteen hundred dollars, and you will receive the money and come from the bank here."

"Yes, Cousin David."

"You will carry the parcel in the left-hand pocket of your sack coat, and if it is taken you can appear to be unconscious of it."

"Yes."

"And—that is all you will have to do, except to say that a tall, thin man"—Ralston was short and sturdy—"jostled against you, and must have taken it."

"All right! I see. And I am to have twenty-five dollars for–"

"Your trouble. Yes."

"Give it to me now."

"Wait till you come back. Don't be afraid. You will get it."

"All right."

When Felix was on his way to the bank, he did not know that he was followed at a little distance by a small man with keen, black eyes, who, without appearing to do so, watched carefully every movement of the young office boy.

When Felix entered the bank, he also entered the bank, and stood behind Felix in the line at the paying teller's window.

He nodded secretly to the teller when that official read the check presented by Felix.

"Eighteen hundred dollars?" the latter repeated, aloud.

"Yes, sir," answered Felix, composedly.

"I shall have to go back to get it. We haven't as much here."

He went to another part of the bank and returned after a time with three packages. One was labeled one thousand dollars, another five hundred dollars and a third two hundred dollars. Then he counted out from the drawer beside him a hundred dollars in bills.

Felix, with a look of relief, took the three parcels and dropped them carelessly in the side pocket of his sack coat, and put the bills in loose. Then he started on his way back to the office.

Mr. Sharpleigh, for it was he, as the reader has doubtless guessed, walked closely behind him. He was not quite sure as to the manner in which the money was to be taken, but guessed at once when he caught sight of Dick Ralston at a little distance with his eyes intently fixed upon Felix.

The office boy sauntered along, with nothing apparently on his mind, and finally stopped in front of a window on Union Square, which appeared to have considerable attraction for him.

Then it was that the detective saw Ralston come up, and, while apparently watching the window also, thrust his hand into the pocket of the office boy and withdraw the package of money, which he at once slipped into his own pocket.

Mr. Sharpleigh smiled a little to himself.

"Very neat!" he soliloquized, "but it won't go down, my cunning friend."

Felix gave a little side glance, seeing what was going on, but immediately stared again in at the window.

Sharpleigh beckoned to a tall man, dressed as a civilian, but really an officer in plain clothes.

"Go after him!" he said, in a low voice, indicating Ralston.

Then he followed Felix, who in about five minutes began to show signs of agitation.

He thrust his hand wildly into his pocket, and looked panic-stricken.

"What is the matter, my boy?" asked Sharpleigh, blandly.

"Oh, sir, I have been robbed," faltered Felix.

"Robbed—of what?"

"I had eighteen hundred dollars in bank bills in my pocket, in four parcels, and—and they must have been taken while I was looking in at this window."

"You seem to have been very careless?" said Sharpleigh. "Why were you not more careful when you knew you had so much money in your care?"

"I—I ought to have been, I know it, sir, but I wasn't thinking."

"Where are you employed?"

"At Mr. Fairchild's office, on Fourteenth Street."

"The real estate agent?"

"Yes, sir."

"I know the place."

"My cousin is the bookkeeper. He will be so angry with me."

"I think he will have reason. I saw a man following you rather closely, I presume he took the money."

"Oh, won't you come back to the office with me and tell my cousin that? I am afraid he will discharge me."

"Yes, I will go with you."

So it happened that Felix and Mr. Sharpleigh went together into the office where Mullins was eagerly waiting for the return of his emissary.

"What's the matter, Felix?" he said, as the boy entered. "Have you brought the money?"

"Oh, Cousin David, I am so sorry."

"So sorry? For what?"

"I—I have lost the money. A pickpocket took it while I was looking in at a window. This gentleman was near and he saw a suspicious-looking man next to me."

"This is a strange story, Felix. We must notify the police at once. Did you see anyone likely to commit the theft, sir?"

This was, of course, addressed to Mr. Sharpleigh.

"Yes."

"You will be willing to testify to this at the police office? You see, this boy is my cousin. Mr. Fairchild is away, and I shall be blamed for this terrible loss. Why, there were eighteen hundred dollars in the parcel!"

"There were three parcels, and a roll of bills, Cousin David."

Mr. Mullins looked surprised.

"Then it was not all put in one parcel?" he said.

"No."

"That is strange. I—I don't know what to do. Mr. Fairchild has telegraphed that he will be at home sometime during the day. Probably I had better wait till he comes before notifying the police."

This he said in a questioning sort of way, as if asking Sharpleigh's advice.

"That will give the thief a chance to escape," suggested the detective.

"True. Perhaps you will be kind enough to leave word at the nearest police office. I only wish Mr. Fairchild were here."

"All right, sir," said the detective, "I will comply with your request."

He left the office, but it is needless to say that he didn't go far away.

"This is a very interesting comedy," he murmured, rubbing his hands, "a very interesting comedy, and apparently played for my benefit."

"Now, Felix," said the bookkeeper, "tell me how it all came out. Did the paying teller look suspicious when you presented the check?"

"No. He said he hadn't as much money in the drawer, and went to the safe in the back part of the bank. He returned with three parcels of bills in brown paper, and a hundred dollars loose."

"And then you put it in your pocket?"

"Yes, Cousin David; I did exactly as you told me. I put them in my pocket and walked back in a leisurely way."

"Did you see anything of Ralston?"

"Yes, I saw him out of the corner of my eye, while I was looking in at a window on Union Square."

"He took the money?"

"Yes. Now, Cousin David, give me the twenty-five dollars."

At that instant the door was opened suddenly, and Dick Ralston dashed into the office, looking very much excited.

"Mullins," he said, "we've been sold—sold—regularly sold. Look at this!" and he showed one of the brown packages partly torn open.

"Well," said the bookkeeper, "what's the matter?"

"Matter? Matter enough. Here's a package marked one thousand dollars, and it contains only slips of green paper in place of bills. You can see for yourself."

CHAPTER XXXI.

A DAY OF SURPRISES

The bookkeeper looked amazed.

He turned to Felix.

"Was this package given you at the bank?" he asked.

"Yes," answered Felix.

"I don't understand it. Do you think they suspected anything?" he continued, turning to Ralston.

"What could they suspect?" growled Dick. "It's a pretty trick for a respectable bank to play on a customer."

"Was all the money bogus?" asked Mullins.

"Here are a hundred dollars in good bills."

"Have you opened any of the other packages?"

"No, but I will."

The gambler tore off a little of the outer paper from the five-hundred-dollar and two-hundred-dollar packages, only to discover that their contents were no more valuable than those of the first bundle.

"I'd like to know what all this means," said Ralston. "Is it a trick of yours?" he demanded, looking suspiciously at Mullins.

"No. On my honor, no. It is very puzzling. They must have made a mistake at the bank."

"Send the boy back."

"It won't do. He has already reported that he has been robbed. It's—it's very awkward."

"You must do something," said Dick Ralston, harshly. "I'm not going to be swindled in this way."

It was at this point that the office door was heard to open. Mr. Sharpleigh entered and fixed his glance on Ralston.

"Mr. Mullins," he said, "you wish to know who robbed your office boy of the money he drew from the bank?"

"Yes," faltered Mullins.

"There he stands!" answered Sharpleigh, calmly, pointing to Ralston.

"It's a—lie!" exclaimed the gambler, but he turned pale.

"I saw the robbery with my own eyes." went on the detective, "and–" he turned his eyes to the door, which opened to admit a stalwart policeman.

"Arrest that man!" said the detective. "He lay in wait for the office boy, and on his return from the bank robbed him of a large sum of money which he had just drawn out."

"Who are you?" demanded Ralston, trying to brazen it out.

"I am James Sharpleigh, a detective."

Mullins listened in dismay, for Sharpleigh's name was familiar to him as one of the cleverest detectives in the city.

"And who authorized you to meddle in a matter that did not concern you?"

The answer came from an unexpected quarter. Mr. Fairchild, valise in hand and dusty with travel, entered the office. He heard the question, and quickly comprehended the situation.

"It is nearly two weeks," he said, "since I engaged Mr. Sharpleigh to watch what was going on in the office. Chester Rand telegraphed me that he had been discharged, and my suspicions were excited."

"So it's that boy!" muttered the bookkeeper, spitefully.

"I left all to the discretion of my friend Sharpleigh, who has justified my confidence. I shall have to ask him to throw light on the present situation."

This the detective did in a few brief sentences.

"Am I to arrest this man?" asked the policeman.

"Yes," answered the broker, sternly. "Mr. Sharpleigh, will you accompany the officer and prefer charges?"

"See here," said Ralston, with an ugly look, "I'm not going to be a scapegoat. Your bookkeeper put up this job."

Mr. Fairchild turned slowly and regarded David Mullins attentively.

"I will bear in mind what you say," he answered.

"I took nothing of value," continued Ralston, "and you can't hold me. Here are three packages filled with green paper."

"Yes," said Sharpleigh, "the bank teller was acting under my instructions. I took care, however, to have one roll of genuine bills."

When the three had left the office Mr. Fairchild turned to the bookkeeper.

"Mr. Mullins," he said, "what could induce you to engage in such a wicked plot?"

"I don't admit any complicity in the affair," replied the bookkeeper, in a surly tone.

"Have you seen Chester Rand lately?"

"I saw him last evening at the Fifth Avenue Hotel."

"Why did you discharge him?"

"I thought him unfit for his place."

"There may be a difference of opinion on that point. This boy," he added, significantly, "is a relative of yours, I believe."

"Yes."

"Will you give me an idea of what has been done during my absence?"

Together the broker and the bookkeeper went over the books. Then Mr. Fairchild went out to dinner.

He was no sooner out of the office than Mullins said: "Felix, remain here till Mr. Fairchild returns. I am going out on an errand."

He opened the safe, drew therefrom a small package and left the office.

Half an hour later he was on a Cortlandt Street ferryboat bound for the Jersey shore.

The package which he took with him contained four hundred dollars in bills, which he had drawn from the bank the day previous without the knowledge of his confederate. He had been providing for contingencies.

When Mr. Fairchild returned Felix delivered the message.

The broker at once looked suspicious.

"Did Mr. Mullins say where he was going?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. He said he was going out on an errand."

"Did he take anything with him?"

"I didn't observe, sir."

When Sharpleigh came in a little later he looked about him inquiringly.

"Where's Mullins?"

"I don't think we shall see him again very soon," and the broker told the detective what he knew about his disappearance.

Sharpleigh shrugged his shoulders.

"He has been too sharp for us," he said. "Do you want me to do anything?"

"No; his loss of place and reputation will be a sufficient punishment."

At the close of the day Felix said: "I suppose you don't want me any more."

"You can stay till the end of the week. I have not had time to form any plans."

"Do—do you think Cousin David will come back?"

"I think it very improbable," said the broker, seriously. "Can you throw any light on the events of to-day?"

"Yes, sir."

"Go on. Was the robbery planned?"

"Yes, sir. I was to receive twenty-five dollars for my share."

"I believe you know Chester Rand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you know where he lives?"

"Yes, sir."

"Will you ask him to call here to-morrow?"

"I will, sir; but he tells me he has a good place, and would not care to return."

"I am aware of that. It is possible I may retain you–"

"Oh, sir, if you would!"

"On condition that you agree to serve me faithfully."

This was quite beyond the expectations of Felix.

"I will try to do so," he said, earnestly.

"You have begun well by confessing your share in the plot which came so near being successful. As your day's work is ended, I will consider the errand on which I am sending you extra, and will pay you for it."

The broker handed a half dollar to Felix, which he accepted joyfully.

"I don't much care if Cousin David has gone away," he soliloquized. "Mr. Fairchild seems a good sort of man, and I'll do my best to please him."

When Felix was ushered into Chester's presence the latter was just finishing a comic sketch for The Phœnix.