Conduct of life -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction; Runaway teenagers -- Fiction
While apparently intent upon his writing he listened attentively to what
might be going on in the next room. One,--two,--three minutes passed.
Mr. Danforth again showed himself.
“Did you say that no one has been here?” he demanded, abruptly.
“No, sir.”
“Have either of you been into my office since I have been out?”
“I have not, sir,” said Dawkins.
“I went in to carry your letters,” said Paul.
“Did you see a roll of bills lying on my desk?”
“Yes, sir,” said Paul, a little surprised at the question.
“I have just counted it over, and find but six hundred dollars instead
of eight hundred. Can you account for the discrepancy?”
Mr. Danforth looked keenly at the two boys. Dawkins, who had schooled
himself to the ordeal, maintained his outward calmness. Paul, beginning
to perceive that his honesty was called in question, flushed.
“No, sir,” said the boys simultaneously.
“It can hardly be possible, that Mr. Thompson, who is a very careful
man, should have made such a mistake in paying me,” resumed Mr.
Danforth.
“As we have been the only persons here,” said Dawkins, “the only way to
vindicate ourselves from suspicion is, to submit to a search.”
“Yes, sir,” said Paul promptly.
Both boys turned their pockets inside out, but the missing money was not
found.
“There is my overcoat, sir,” said Dawkins, “will you be kind enough to
search it for yourself?”
Next, of course, Paul's overcoat was searched.
What was our hero's dismay when from one of the pockets Mr. Danforth
produced a fifty dollar bill.
“Is it possible?” he exclaimed in as much grief as surprise, “Unhappy
boy, how came you by this money in your pocket?”
“I don't know, sir,” returned Paul, his cheek alternately flushing and
growing pale.
“I wish I could believe you,” said Mr. Danforth; “where have you put the
other bills? Produce them, and I may overlook this first offense.”
“Indeed, sir,” said Paul, in great distress, “I have not the slightest
knowledge of how this bill came into my pocket. I hope you will believe
me, sir.”
“How can I? The money evidently did not go into your pocket without
hands.”
A sudden thought came to Paul. “Dawkins,” said he, “did you put that
money into my pocket?”
“What do you mean, sir?” returned Dawkins, haughtily. “Is it your
intention to insult me?”
Dawkins could not prevent his face from flushing as he spoke, but this
might easily be referred to a natural resentment of the imputation cast
upon him.
“Paul,” said his employer, coldly, “you will not help your own cause
by seeking to involve another. After what has happened you can hardly
expect me to retain you in my employment. I will not make public your
disgrace, nor will I inquire farther for the remainder of the money for
which you have been willing to barter your integrity. I will pay your
wages up to the end of this week, and----”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account