Part 7 (2/2)

She knew his ways so well that in his increasing petulance she saw the coming surrender.

”I am going to draw a check for a thousand, father,” she said with a.s.sumed indifference, and took up a pen as though the matter were settled.

”A thousand!--no, five hundred--no, it's too much. Five hundred dollars for a couple of suits of khaki? Preposterous! Fifty would be too much.”

”Well, the very lowest is fifty, father,” she remarked, with a sudden abandonment of irritation, and a new light in her fine eyes.

”Ah! that's more like it.”

”Then, I'll make it fifty.”

”Fifty!--no, I never said fifty. I said five--too much,” and his fingers began to claw upon the coverlet, while his lips and tongue worked as with a palsy. ”Fifty dollars! Do you want to ruin me? Make it five, and I'll sign it at once. That's more than I gave you last time.”

She had commenced the check. The date was filled in, and the name of her son as the payee.

”Five, madam--not a penny more. Five!”

The inspiration vibrated in her brain. Why not repeat the successful forgery? He would miss five thousand as little as five.

She wrote ”five,” in letters, and lower down filled in the numeral, putting it very near the dollar-sign.

”Father, you are driving me to desperation. It's your fault if--”

”Give me the pen--give me the pen,” he snarled. ”If you keep me waiting too long, I shall change my mind.”

She brought the blotting-pad and pen, and he scrawled his signature, scarcely looking at the check. She drew it away from him swiftly--for she had known him to tear up a check in a last access of covetous greed.

Five thousand dollars!

The same process of alteration as before was adopted. This time there was no flaw or suspicious spluttering.

The reckless woman, emboldened by her first success, plunged wildly on the second opportunity. The devil's work was better done; but, unfortunately, she made the alteration, as before, with the rectory ink, which was of excellent quality, and in a few hours darkened to an entirely different tint. The color of the writing was uniform at first; but to-morrow there would be a difference.

She was running a great risk; but she saw before her peace and prosperity, her husband's debts paid, her own dressmaker's bills for the past two years wiped out, and d.i.c.k saved from arrest.

This would still leave a small balance in hand.

And they would economize in the future.

Vain resolves! The spendthrift is always the thriftiest person in intention. The rector had understated when he declared their deficit.

Only the most persistent creditors were appeased. But their good fortune--for they considered it such--had become known to every creditor as if by magic. Bills came pouring in. If the aggressive builder of the new Mission Hall could get his money, why not the baker, the butcher, the tailor? The study table was positively white with the shower of ”accounts rendered”--polite demands and abusive threats.

The rector had innocently and gratefully accepted the story of the gift of two thousand dollars, without question or surprise. His wonderful, beautiful wife always dragged him out of difficulties. He had ceased to do more than bless and thank her. He was glad of the respite, and had already begun to build castles in the air, and formulate a wonderful scheme for alleviating distress by advancing urgently needed money, to be refunded to him out of the proceeds of bazaars and concerts and public subscriptions later on.

The poor, too, seemed to have discovered that the rector was paying away money, and the most miserable, tattered, whining specimens of humanity rang his door-bell. They had piteous tales to tell of children dying for want of proper nourishment, of wives lying unburied for lack of funds to pay the undertaker.

d.i.c.k returned, ignorant of his danger of arrest, and almost at the moment when his mother had accomplished her second forgery.

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