The Gayton Scholarship: A School Story
Page 11
*CHAPTER XI.*
*IS JIM A THIEF?*
Three weeks after the conversation recorded in our last chapter, Mr.Broad wished Jim good-night, closed the shop door, and returned to hisdesk. As a rule he was a cheery, good-humoured man, easy-going, andwith an eye for the bright side of things.
On this particular evening he appeared moody and unsettled, and quiteunable to look through the pile of books which lay on the desk.Presently, leaving his chair, he walked up and down the shop.
"I can't believe it," he said half aloud. "I don't wish to believe it.The boy has always seemed as honest as the day. I must have made amistake." And his face brightened. Then it clouded again, and he wenton, "Why should I beat about the bush instead of going straight to thepoint? I know I am not mistaken. Some one stole a florin from the tilllast night, and Hartland must have been the thief."
For some time past Mr. Broad had had a vague suspicion that he was beingrobbed--not on a large scale, and not regularly; but now and again hefancied a piece of silver or a few coppers disappeared.
The incident which converted his suspicion into certainty was this. Onthe previous night he had left the shop with a friend. Before going, heplaced a florin, the price of an article just sold, in the till. On hisreturn the florin was gone, and, according to Jim's own words, nocustomer had entered the shop.
It was very perplexing, but Mr. Broad did not like to tax the boy withtheft, and rather foolishly made no further remark. It was justpossible, he told himself, that he only _intended_ to put the florin inthe till, but had really slipped it into his pocket. One thing heknew--that after going out he had changed a florin in the town.
However, the subject worried him a good deal, especially as, on soberreflection, he felt convinced that the coin had been left in the shop.
"I hate to do it," he muttered, "but it will be better even for theboy's own sake. A sharp fright may do him good and teach him a usefullesson. If he isn't found out now he is pretty certain to go from badto worse. It's an awful pity, too. He's a smart lad, and ought to dowell; but I shall never feel able to trust him again, and I shan't feeljustified in recommending him to any one else."
The shopkeeper kept his suspicions to himself, saying nothing even tohis wife. He had watched Jim closely, however, while affecting to bebusy in another part of the shop. Nothing resulted from this amateurdetective work, but Mr. Broad noticed that several times during theevening Jim cast glances toward the door.
This certainly seemed rather odd, but it was no proof of guilt; and thestationer concluded his best plan was to lay a trap for Jim, and then gooff the premises, leaving him a clear field.
The opportunity came the next day when most of the shops closed early.Mr. Broad was compelled to keep open because of the evening papers; butas soon as they were dispatched, the gas was lowered, and there wasnothing to do beyond waiting for the errand-boy's return. As a rule themaster did this himself, and Jim had an hour or two off.
On this particular evening, however, Mr. Broad said, "Hartland, I amgoing out, so you must stay till I return."
"Very good, sir," replied Jim, who really thought it was very bad, forhe had promised to meet Curly Peters at the bottom of the street.
Mr. Broad went round the shop, turned down the lights, except the oneover the desk, and went out, saying,--
"If I am not here by half-past nine, turn the gas off at the meter, lockthe door, and bring the keys to my house. Most likely though I shall beback."
"Yes, sir," said Jim, who earnestly hoped he would.
"Upon my word," muttered Mr. Broad to himself, as he stepped into thestreet, "this business is horrible. I feel almost as if I werecommitting some terrible crime. But, after all, it will be a warning tohim. Some men would have him packed off to jail, and then he could neverhold his head up again."
He pulled out his watch and looked at the time.
"I'll just run down and have a gossip at the club," said he. "I feel asnervous as if I had robbed the till myself.---Bless my soul, boy, whydon't you look where you are going?"
"Awfully sorry, sir," said the boy, who was no other than our livelyfriend, Dick Boden. "I hope you aren't hurt?"
"No; but you startled me. You might have been a policeman, you know,or--or--Dear me, my nerves are in an extraordinary state!"
"Funny old gent," thought Dick; and then, stealing a second look at him,he said to himself, "Why, it's Mr. Broad. It's no use waiting for Jim,then. He has to mind the shop."
Remembering that it was early closing day, he had run up directly hislessons were finished, thinking he might catch Jim and induce him to gofor a good game. He went very rarely now, but he had not quiteabandoned the hope of rescuing Jim from the clutches of his new friends,who, according to some of the boys, were doing him more harm than good.Indeed, there were some curious tales floating about which made Dickextremely anxious on his friend's account.
"I've half a mind to call at the shop and ask him when he'll be offduty," he thought. "Perhaps his master will be coming back in a fewminutes."
He still stood hesitating on the pavement, when he suddenly caught sightof a little by-play which turned his thoughts in another direction.
"I wonder," he muttered, "what game those chaps are up to. No good,I'll be bound."
A few paces off he saw Curly Peters and his mate gazing after the worthystationer, and presently they began talking together very earnestly.Dick could not hear what passed, but he felt sure they were discussingsome scheme with which Mr. Broad was connected.
Now, as a rule, the Angel took little interest in his neighbours'doings, but on this occasion he could not help watching closely.
"I mustn't let them see me, though," he muttered, and crossed to theother side of the road.
At last the two boys finished their conversation; and then, while Curlylounged about the pavement, his companion, whose name was Bryant, ranafter Mr. Broad.
"Hum!" said Dick; "that's a queer start. I should like to watch thislittle game, yet I don't want to lose sight of Curly."
The whole affair was most perplexing; but in a few minutes Bryantreturned, laughing and evidently well pleased. He said something to hiscompanion, who nodded approvingly, and then strolled up the street.
"Going to call on Jim, I'll bet sixpence!" said Dick, who, by the way,never bet sixpence or any other sum of money in his life. "What anidiot he is not to drop 'em. Not much use in my going on, I suppose."
He has told me since that he had actually turned to go home, when aqueer thing happened. The two boys had reached the shop, when Bryantslipped into a doorway adjoining the stationer's, and stood closeagainst the wall as if not wishing to be seen. In this he was greatlyhelped by the fact of the building being in darkness.
Without any definite object Dick did the same thing on his side of thestreet.
"This is getting quite exciting," said Dick to himself. "Why did heslip in there, I wonder? Doesn't he want Jim to see him? But if not,why not? It doesn't seem very clear."
As soon as Bryant had disappeared, Curly sauntered carelessly past theshop window and back again. Then he looked up and down the street, whichwas now nearly empty, and, appearing satisfied, approached the door.
Dick judged that he whistled softly and received no answer. In a minuteor two he whistled again, when the door was opened partly, and heappeared to be talking to some one inside.
"That must be Jim," thought Dick. "I suppose they are making somearrangement; but it's odd the other fellow doesn't show himself."
Presently Curly took what appeared to be a scrap of newspaper from hispocket, and in order to see it better, Jim came right outside. Then,almost imperceptibly, Curly began to edge away till he manoeuvred Jimfrom the doorway to the front of the shop. The movement was so naturaland performed so dexterously that even the suspicious Dick thoughtnothing of it.
But the instant the coast was clear, a dark figure glided swiftl
ythrough the open door and disappeared in the shop. Dick rubbed his eyesand looked at Jim. His head was bent over the paper, and, whether byaccident or design, Curly kept him engaged in animated conversation.
What was to be done? Should he rush over and give the alarm? For oncein his life he could not decide what to do, and while he hesitated theopportunity was lost.
Jim was still talking earnestly when the dark figure reappeared in thedoorway, stole away with cat-like stealth by the side of the wall, andvanished. The next moment some one coughed loudly; Jim looked up with astart, returned the paper to Curly, and, with a parting word, went backto the shop door. A dozen yards away Bryant waited for his companion.There was not sufficient light for Dick to see what took place, but in aminute or two Curly ran back quickly to where Jim was still standing.
This time Curly did not speak so quietly, and so Dick was able to hearbrief snatches of the conversation, such as, "Awfully sorry--wouldn't doyou--now we're square, aren't we?"
"Yes," replied Jim, slipping something into his pocket, "and it comes invery handy just now."
"All right," said Curly, walking away; and raising his voice, he added,"You'll be sure to come, won't you? We'll have a rattling good time.So long."
Dick was on the horns of a dilemma. He felt eager to tell his chum whathe had seen, yet he had a vague idea that he ought to keep an eye on theother two.
"I'll follow them up," he said, "and then come back to meet Jim. UnlessI've been dreaming with my eyes open, there's something very rotten inthe state of Denmark."
Meanwhile, Jim remained at the door till the errand-boy returned, thenhe went in and sat down at the desk. He had finished his lessons, andwas in the midst of a very exciting story, but somehow he did not findmuch pleasure in it.
As a matter of fact he was getting very tired of Curly Peters andCompany. He knew quite well they were doing him no food. On more thanone occasion they had forced him to lie to his employer and to do otherthings of which he was heartily ashamed.
"I've a good mind to cut the whole concern," said he, "make a cleanbreast of it to the gov'nor, and ask him to give me a fresh start. Ireally believe he would do it."
Then he turned to his book again, but it was useless trying to followthe fortunes of the hero; he was thinking all the time what a fool hehad been in preferring Curly Peters to Dick Boden.
"The Angel's a little brick," he said to himself. "He's stuck to me likea leech, though I've snubbed him awfully. Never mind, Dicky; I'll makeup for it, if you'll let me."
Presently he closed the book, got down from the desk, and went to thedoor, muttering, "I wish the gov'nor would make haste."
He little guessed the shame and agony which Mr. Broad's return wouldcause him.