Part 33 (1/2)
”I wish I could believe it. But as I have told you, Jasper is not a good man. He drinks and smokes and play-acts and makes a G.o.d of stylish clothes-”
”Good Lord, that's no reason for jumping to the conclusion that he's an embezzler!”
”I pray you may be right. But meanwhile I wish to give you any a.s.sistance I can. I shall make it my sole duty to see that my brother is brought to justice if it proves that he is guilty.”
”Good o' you,” mumbled the president. Despite this example of John's rigid honor he could not get himself to like the man. John was standing beside him, thrusting his stupid face into his.
The president pushed his chair a foot farther away and said disagreeably: ”As a matter of fact we were thinking of searching your house. If I remember, you live in Rosebank?”
”Yes. And of course I shall be glad to have you search every inch of it.
Or anything else I can do. I feel that I share fully with my twin brother in this unspeakable sin. I'll turn over the key of my house to you at once. There is also a shed at the back, where Jasper used to keep his automobile when he came to see me.” He produced a large, rusty, old-fas.h.i.+oned door key and held it out, adding: ”The address is 27 Humbert Avenue, Rosebank.”
”Oh, it won't be necessary, I guess,” said the president, somewhat shamed, irritably waving off the key.
”But I just want to help somehow! What can I do? Who is-in the language of the newspapers-who is the detective on the case? I'll give him any help-”
”Tell you what you do: Go see Mr. Scandling, of the Mercantile Trust and Bonding Company, and tell him all you know.”
”I shall. I take my brother's crime on my shoulders-otherwise I'd be committing the sin of Cain. You are giving me a chance to try to expiate our joint sin, and, as Brother Jeremiah Bodfish was wont to say, it is a blessing to have an opportunity to expiate a sin, no matter how painful the punishment may seem to be to the mere physical being. As I may have told you I am an accepted member of the Soul Hope Fraternity, and though we are free from cant and dogma it is our firm belief-”
Then for ten dreary minutes John Holt sermonized; quoted forgotten books and quaint, ungenerous elders; twisted bitter pride and clumsy mysticism into a fanatical spider web. The president was a churchgoer, an ardent supporter of missionary funds, for forty years a pew-holder at St.
Simeon's Church, but he was alternately bored to a chill s.h.i.+ver and roused to wrath against this self-righteous zealot.
When he had rather rudely got rid of John Holt he complained to himself: ”Curse it, I oughtn't to, but I must say I prefer Jasper the sinner to John the saint. Uff! What a smell of damp cellars the fellow has! He must spend all his time picking potatoes. Say! By thunder, I remember that Jasper had the infernal nerve to tell me once that if he ever robbed the bank I was to call John in. I know why, now! John is the kind of egotistical fool that would muddle up any kind of a systematic search. Well, Jasper, sorry, but I'm not going to have anything more to do with John than I can help!”
John had gone to the Mercantile Trust and Bonding Company, had called on Mr. Scandling, and was now wearying him by a detailed and useless account of Jasper's early years and recent vices. He was turned over to the detective employed by the bonding company to find Jasper. The detective was a hard, noisy man, who found John even more tedious. John insisted on his coming out to examine the house in Rosebank, and the detective did so-but sketchily, trying to escape. John spent at least five minutes in showing him the shed where Jasper had sometimes kept his car.
He also attempted to interest the detective in his precious but spotty books. He unlocked one section of the case, dragged down a four-volume set of sermons and started to read them aloud.
The detective interrupted: ”Yuh, that's great stuff, but I guess we aren't going to find your brother hiding behind those books!”
The detective got away as soon as possible, after insistently explaining to John that if they could use his a.s.sistance they would let him know.
”If I can only expiate-”
”Yuh, sure, that's all right!” wailed the detective, fairly running toward the gate.
John made one more visit to Vernon that day. He called on the chief of city police. He informed the chief that he had taken the bonding company's detective through his house; but wouldn't the police consent to search it also? He wanted to expiate- The chief patted John on the back, advised him not to feel responsible for his brother's guilt and begged: ”Skip along now-very busy.”
As John walked to the Soul Hope meeting that evening dozens of people murmured that it was his brother who had robbed the Lumber National Bank. His head was bowed with the shame. At the meeting he took Jasper's sin upon himself, and prayed that Jasper would be caught and receive the blessed healing of punishment. The others begged John not to feel that he was guilty-was he not one of the Soul Hope brethren who alone in this wicked and perverse generation were a.s.sured of salvation?
On Thursday, on Sat.u.r.day morning, on Tuesday and on Friday John went into the city to call on the president of the bank and the detective.
Twice the president saw him, and was infinitely bored by his sermons.
The third time he sent word that he was out. The fourth time he saw John, but curtly explained that if John wanted to help them the best thing he could do was to stay away.
The detective was ”out” all four times.
John smiled meekly and ceased to try to help them. Dust began to gather on certain candy boxes on the lower shelf of his bookcase, save for one of them, which he took out now and then. Always after he had taken it out a man with faded brown hair and a wrinkled black suit, signing himself R. J. Smith, would send a fair-sized money order from the post office at South Vernon to John Holt, at Rosebank-as he had been doing for more than six months. These money orders could not have amounted to more than twenty-five dollars a week, but that was even more than an ascetic like John Holt needed. By day John sometimes cashed these at the Rosebank post office, but usually, as had been his custom, he cashed them at his favorite grocery when he went out in the evening.