Part 54 (1/2)
”What would you advise, Mr. Rogers?”
”Nothing at present; but if we find it necessary to-morrow, we can get that lawyer's testimony, which will certainly clear Harry of this charge.”
CHAPTER x.x.xIX
HOW CONGREVE SUCCEEDED
Philip would not have felt flattered if he had been able to read the thoughts of his friend James Congreve, when the latter was riding away from the village where he had been boarding, toward the great city.
”That's the last I shall ever see of the young sn.o.b, I hope,” he said to himself. ”I've got all I can out of him, and now I wash my hands of him.
I wish him joy of waiting for me to-night. It'll be many a long day before he sees me or the balance of the bonds.”
James Congreve settled back in his seat, bought a paper from the paper boy on the train, and began to read in a very comfortable frame of mind.
From time to time he put his hand on the inside pocket in which he had placed the bonds, to make sure of their safety, for no one knew better than he that there were dishonest persons to be met with who were willing to appropriate valuables belonging to others.
It was some time since he had been so well off as he would be when he had converted these bonds into money. Indeed, all the summer long he had been short of funds, or he would not have spent so long a time in a country village, which to him was dull and afforded him a small field for his peculiar talents.
Arriving in New York, Congreve took his way to Wall Street. Here it was that he expected to get rid of the bonds, or, rather, exchange them for greenbacks.
In this street brokers' and bankers' offices abound, and all negotiable securities readily find a purchaser. He stepped into an office nearly opposite the opening of New Street, and, approaching the counter, said, as he drew out his bonds:
”What are you paying for government sixes?”
”Let me see the date,” said the clerk. He spread open the bonds, and then answered: ”One hundred and fifteen and three-eighths.”
”Very well,” replied Congreve. ”I will sell them.”
The clerk took them and stepped to the desk, to make an entry of the purchase.
”What name?” he asked, turning to Congreve.
”John Baker,” said Congreve, with momentary hesitation.
For obvious reasons, he thought it best not to mention his own name, as trouble might possibly come from the possession of the bonds.
”Shall I give you a check?” was the next question.
”I would prefer the money,” answered Congreve.
”Go to the cas.h.i.+er's window, and he will attend to you.”
”Not much trouble about that,” thought Congreve, complacently, when he was startled by a voice at his elbow.
”How are you, Congreve?”
Looking around hastily, he saw a hand extended, and recognized a young man who had at one time been a fellow-boarder with him in Fourteenth Street. It is safe to say that James Congreve wished him anywhere else at that most unfortunate time.
”Hus.h.!.+” said he, in a subdued whisper; ”I will speak to you outside.”