The Cleverdale Mystery; or, The Machine and Its Wheels: A Story of American LifeWilkins, W. A.
General
The Cleverdale Mystery; or, The Machine and Its Wheels: A Story of American Life
Wilkins, W. A.
Detective and mystery stories; New York (State) -- Fiction; Political corruption -- Fiction
"But must I be a cripple? Oh, the thought is agony to me. What should I
do, a helpless person entirely dependent upon those I love? Even with
all the precious hours I could enjoy with you and my dear sister, I
should pray God to take me away."
"Do not talk of that. Dr. Briar says you will again be able to walk.
Do for the present let your mind rest and be contented; your recovery
depends entirely upon this."
"Yes, I know it, and were it not for my two good and loving nurses my
mind long ere this would have given way. I am truly happy, yet I am so
often reminded of the danger surrounding me that I cannot dispel the
thought that I may be permanently helpless."
Belle, rising from her chair, approached him lovingly, placed her arm
about his neck, and laughingly said:
"No more of such gloomy forebodings. If you wish to get well you must
be happy and contented; if not your nurses will retire and send two
snuff-taking, herb-giving hospital women to take care of you. How would
you like that, my impatient prisoner?"
"That being too great a punishment, I will promise to obey my nurses,
providing they will remain with me."
Week after week passing, the later spring began to send forth its balmy
breezes. The snows of winter long since gone, and the birds returned
from southern homes, the trees began taking on their garb of emerald,
while the apple blossoms were bursting forth, soon to expand their germs
into luscious fruit.
The factory had not been rebuilt, and much suffering had been
experienced among families whose members were thrown out of employment
by the disastrous fire of the previous fall.
The heavy loss to the Cleverdale Woollen Company forced several of its
stockholders into bankruptcy, and the business interests of the village
were more or less affected by the disaster. Naturally, everybody thought
Senator Hamblin too solid financially to be disturbed by the loss of one
hundred thousand dollars--the amount of his stock in the company--but
had they seen him in the solitude of his office or home meditating over
the critical condition of his business affairs, they would have formed
a far different opinion. During the winter he had been obliged to raise
large sums of money to prevent his own bank paper from going to protest,
but with an unlimited credit he could command almost any desired amount.
Men with funds lying idle were glad to place their money in the hands of
as safe a man as they supposed him to be. Widows and factory operatives
felt secure, could they induce the president of the Cleverdale Bank to
take their savings and pay them interest. In this way Senator Hamblin
succeeded in averting the calamity that would otherwise have overwhelmed
him.
He borrowed heavily from the bank on the notes of his friends.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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