Part 40 (1/2)

Peter Smartweed alone among the conspirators remains to be accounted for, and this is something that the police could not do. They made a careful search throughout the city for him, but his presence could not be discovered. It was believed that, fearing arrest, he had suddenly left his home and the city in which he had spent his life, when he learned of the fate of Felix Mortimer, his companion in crime.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

A GLIMPSE AT THE FUTURE.

It has not seemed to me desirable to dwell upon Mr. Goldwin's business affairs--to show the legal squabbles that followed his failure, or to picture in detail the trickery of Breakwell & Co. My aim has been to introduce only what bore directly upon the career of Herbert Randolph.

I will say, however, that the banker's failure did not leave him penniless, as young Randolph feared it might. He was badly crippled at first, but certain securities turned over to him by Breakwell & Co., which at the time of the failure possessed but little market value, began at the end of a few months to advance rapidly. When they had reached a point at which it seemed to him advisable to sell he closed them out at a price that enabled him to pay off all his obligations without drawing upon his personal property for a penny. He was, therefore, still a wealthy man, and was not forced to reduce his style of living in the slightest degree.

With this simple statement I leave the past to record a conversation in which the reader will catch a glimpse of the future, in so far as it relates to some of those who have been most conspicuous in this story.

Young Randolph had now become a frequent visitor at Mr. Goldwin's home, where, notwithstanding the many attractions of a great city, he spent the happiest hours of his life. Bob Hunter, moreover, was not an entire stranger at this handsome residence. His visits, though, were few in comparison to those of his partner, and this was due to two causes--first, a decided reluctance to leave his books, for he had become a most industrious student, and second, the lack of so delightful an attraction as that which turned the steps of the young Vermonter so often towards the Goldwin home.

It was now midwinter. Herbert and Bob had been in business together nearly nine months, in which time they had by hard work and splendid ability lifted themselves from poverty and drudgery to a position of prosperity. In an up town savings bank a snug sum of money was deposited to their credit, and this was in excess of the amount used in their business, which had become so large that a good working capital was necessary.

One day they received a letter from Mr. Goldwin inviting them to dine with him and his family on the following evening. The letter stated, moreover, that he wished to talk with them about a matter in which he thought they would feel an interest.

”What can he wish to talk over with us?” said Bob.

”I have been speculating on that same point,” replied Herbert.

”And you came to no conclusion?”

”No, I really cannot imagine his purpose.”

”It may be about business,” suggested the junior partner.

”You may be right, Bob, but it hardly seems probable that he would want to talk with us about business.”

”But you say he has often talked with you about it when you have been at his house.”

”So he has, in a general way,” replied Herbert, ”but I supposed that was just to fill in conversation.”

”A mere matter of curiosity to know how we were doing?”

”Yes.”

”It's possible, though, that he had other objects in view.”

”Possible, well, yes; but not probable.”

Thus the boys speculated upon Mr. Goldwin's purpose, as they went about their work--speculated and wondered till they found themselves at his table, where all thought of this character was driven from their minds by the pleasant conversation that followed.

It was only fifteen months before this that two boys met as if by chance in City Hall Park one brisk October morning--one a country lad fresh from the rocky hills of old Vermont, the other a keen eyed, bright faced newsboy of New York. Look at the group around this table, and tell me if you can see these chance acquaintances--the boy whose every act proclaimed him a farmer's son, or the other--the shabbily dressed product of a metropolitan street. And if perchance by voice or feature you recognize the boy of education and ambition, look again, I urge you, that you may find his friend. ”There is but one boy present beside him of the farm,” I hear you say, ”and surely it cannot be he, so well dressed and grown so tall, whose language bespeaks a well bred lad.” But look yet once more, I pray you, and behold the sparkle of his eyes, the old time humor playing over his features, and--ah! now he laughs and shows his dimples once again--the same on either cheek reflecting the merriment he feels. You yield at last, puzzled though I know you are, and the question you would put to me--”How came it so, this marvelous change in these two boys?” I will answer--THEY WORKED AND STUDIED.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BOB HUNTER, THE STUDENT AND YOUNG BUSINESS MAN.]

When dinner was over Mr. Goldwin and the two boys repaired to the library. After a little preliminary talk the former said,