Part 5 (1/2)
”He says there was six thousand dollars in the pocketbook.”
”I don't believe it. It's a likely story that a man would throw down his coat, with all that money in the pocket, on the drop. In my opinion it's some trick to cheat his creditors out of their just due.”
”It don't seem possible.”
”That's the truth, you may depend upon it. That's the way men make money.”
Lawry was by no means satisfied with this explanation. He went into the boat, and carefully searched every part of it. His father watched him with considerable interest, declaring that it was useless to look for what had not been lost.
”You had better go up and see Mr. Sherwood now,” said Mr. Wilford.
”I have been up, and he was not at home.”
”You better go again, then.”
”He has gone to Port Henry after the new steamer.”
”Has he got a pilot?”
”Not that I know of.”
”He can't get one at Port Henry,” said the ferryman.
”I suppose he is going to pilot her himself.”
”He will pilot her on the rocks, then. He don't know anything about Lake Champlain. Why don't you row up the lake till you meet the boat?”
”I was thinking of doing so, but I can't keep this money out of my mind.”
”Why need you trouble yourself about that?” demanded the father impatiently.
”It was lost in your boat, and I am very anxious that it should be found. I'm sure Mr. Randall thinks you've got it.”
”Well, he searched me, and found out that I hadn't got it--didn't he?” added Mr. Wilford, with a sickly smile.
”I don't like to have you suspected of such a thing, and for that reason I want to find the money.”
”You can't find it, and I tell you he hasn't lost any money. He's going to cheat the bank or his creditors out of six thousand dollars.”
”I don't believe he would do such a thing as that.”
”We have looked everywhere for the money, and it can't be found.
It's no use to bother any more about the matter. It's gone, and that's the end of it--if he lost it at all. You have looked all over the ferry-boat, and it isn't there. If it had been floating in the lake, you couldn't help seeing it. Now, you better take your boat and row up the lake till you meet the steamer.”
”I'm going pretty soon.”
”Better go now. I'm going up after a drink of water. If you don't go pretty soon, you will be too late to do any good on board the steamer,” said Mr. Wilford, hoping, if he left the spot, his son would depart also.
Lawry hauled in the rowboat, ready to embark; but, before he did so, he made one more search in the bateau for the pocketbook. The timbers of the ferry-boat were ceiled over on the bottom, leaving a s.p.a.ce for the leakage between the inner and the outer planking. Near the mast there was a well, from which, with a grain-shovel, the water was thrown out. Lawry examined this hole, feeling under the planks, and thrusting the shovel in as far as he could. This search was unavailing, and he gave it up in despair. As he stepped on sh.o.r.e, his curiosity prompted him to look under the platform outside of the boat.
The pocketbook was there!