Down the River; Or, Buck Bradford and His Tyrants

by Oliver Optic

  CHAPTER XXV.

  TWO HOURS IN JAIL.

  The appearance of the constable was a sufficient explanation of themisfortune which had befallen me. The man with him was a stranger to me.The mail boy had delivered his message to Captain Fishley, and theconstable had been sent down to Riverport to arrest me; but not findingme there, and probably learning from the hotel-keeper where I had gone,he lay in wait for me at the Ford.

  The officer and his companion were unnecessarily rough and insulting tome, I thought; but when I consider the exceedingly bad reputation whichI had made, I am not much surprised. I was dragged out of the boat, mylegs soused into the water, and my elaborate toilet--made in view of thefact that I was to face Miss Emily Goodridge during the excursion--wasbadly deranged.

  Of course Emily and Flora screamed when I was pulled out of the boat;but I could hardly help laughing, in spite of my mishap, when I saw SimGwynn standing on the seat of the boat so as to exhibit his bow legs tothe best advantage, with the stupid stare of wonder and terror on hisface. The boat was floating down the river with the current, bearing mycompanions away from me.

  "Row back to the hotel, Sim, and tell my brother I have been taken up,"I shouted.

  "Hookie!" responded Sim.

  Before I could say any more, my savage captors, with as much parade andviolence as though I had been a grizzly bear, dragged me to the wagon inthe road, in which sat Captain Fishley. I was satisfied that Sim, afterhe recovered his senses, would be able to conduct the boat in safety tothe hotel, and I did not worry about my companions.

  "Well, Buck Bradford," said my old tyrant, "you are caught at last."

  "Yes, I am caught at last," I replied; for I had resolved to put acheerful face upon the matter.

  "What have you done with the money you stole from the letter?" hedemanded, gruffly.

  "I didn't steal any money from the letter. You will have to ask HamFishley what has become of that money."

  "He seems to be dressed better than he was. I suppose he laid it out forfine clothes," added the constable.

  "Do you persist in saying that Ham Fishley robbed the mail?" said thecaptain, angrily.

  "I do; and I think I shall be able to prove it, too."

  "You see, the fellow is a black-hearted scoundrel," said the postmaster,turning to the man who was a stranger to me, and who, I afterwardslearned, was a post-office agent or detective. "This boy has been in myfamily for several years, but he tries to screen himself by laying hiscrime to my son."

  "Have you got any money about you?" asked the constable.

  "I have," I replied.

  "Search him," added the captain, eagerly.

  "You needn't be so savage about it," said I, when the constable came atme as though I had been a royal Bengal tiger, with dangerous claws andteeth. "I'll submit without any pounding."

  I turned out my pockets. I had bought a new porte-monnaie in NewOrleans, and all my funds were in it. My old one, which contained theburnt envelope, was in my carpet-bag at the hotel, so that I had nomotive for concealing anything. The officer opened the porte-monnaie,and counted fifty-one dollars in bills, which he took from it. The tripdown the river had cost me about seventy dollars, but the proceeds ofthe raft and its furniture had added twenty-five dollars to myexchequer. As my brother had paid all my expenses on the journey up theriver, I had only spent a few dollars, mostly for the hotel boat.

  "Here is more money than was taken from the letter," said the constable.

  "That only proves that he has robbed the mail more than once," repliedCaptain Fishley.

  The post-office agent opened his eyes, and seemed to me to lookincredulous.

  "Has this boy had anything to do with the mail during the last twomonths?" asked he.

  "Not that I know of," replied the postmaster.

  The agent nodded his head, and did not seem to be quite satisfied. Isurmised that Ham had been robbing other letters.

  "Where have you been for two months?" asked the agent, turning to me.

  "I have been to New Orleans," I answered.

  "You haven't been about here, then?"

  "No, sir."

  "Put him in the wagon, and we will drive home," said Captain Fishley.

  The post-office agent took me in charge, and he was not so rude andrough as the constable. He placed me on the back seat of the wagon, andsat beside me himself. All three of my companions plied me withquestions on the way, and I told them all about my trip to New Orleanson the raft.

  "Is Clarence in Riverport?" asked Captain Fishley, much astonished, andI thought troubled also.

  "He is."

  "What did you come back here for, after you had robbed the mail?" hedemanded.

  "I came back to prove that I didn't rob the mail."

  "I guess you can't prove that."

  "I guess I can."

  "How long has Clarence been in Riverport?"

  "Three days."

  "Why don't he come up to Torrentville and see the folks?"

  "He's coming. We were waiting in Riverport to see a gentleman first," Ianswered.

  After I had told my story, they ceased questioning me, and I had anopportunity to consider my position. Ham Fishley would not be glad tosee me. It would be more convenient for him not to have any examinationinto the circumstances attending the robbing of the mail. From one ortwo remarks of the post-office agent, I had come to the conclusion thatother letters than Miss Larrabee's were missing. Besides, the demeanorof this man towards me was so considerate after I told my story, that Iwas confident he had his doubts in regard to my guilt.

  Captain Fishley drove up to the door of the store, and I was told to getout. I obeyed, and went into the store. There I saw Ham Fishley. Ifancied that he looked pale, and that his lip quivered when he saw me.

  "Got back--have you, Buck?" said he, with a ghastly grin.

  "Yes, I've got back," I replied, with becoming dignity.

  "They say the way of the transgressor is hard," he added.

  "I think you will find it so, Ham, before this business is finished."

  "You still lay it to me," he added, angrily.

  Mrs. Fishley, hearing of my arrival, hastened into the shop to see me.

  "So, you monster, you! you have come back--have you?" she began, in thesame refreshing, snarling tones which had so often enlivened myexistence in the past.

  "I have come back, Mrs. Fishley; or rather I have been brought back," Ireplied, pleasantly; for I felt that I could afford to be good-natured.

  "Yes, mother; and he still sticks to it that I robbed the mail--that Idid!" added Ham, with the same sickly grin.

  "I should like to know!" exclaimed she, placing her arms a-kimbo, andstaring me full in the face. "I should like to know! Haven't we doneenough for you, Buck Bradford, that you want to use us in this way? Howdu'st you run away, and take Flora with you? You will make her as bad asyourself byme-by."

  "I hope not," I replied, smiling.

  "She went all the way to New Orleans with him on a raft, and so did thatSim Gwynn," interposed the captain.

  "Well, there's no end of wonders with bad boys. But where's Flora now?"asked Mrs. Fishley.

  "She's at the hotel in Riverport, with Clarence and his wife."

  My female tyrant wanted to know all about it, and I told her; but I willomit the torrent of snapping, snarling, and abuse she poured out upon mefor my base ingratitude to her who had always treated me like a son. Bythis time the news had begun to circulate in the village that "the mailrobber" had been caught, and men, women, and children came to see theawful monster. It was an awkward and uncomfortable situation for me; butI consoled myself by anticipating the triumphant acquittal whichawaited me. When the people had gazed at me to their satisfaction, theconstable conducted me to the jail. I did not shudder, as I supposed Ishould, when I was cast into the lonely cell, for I knew I was innocent.

  I had been there but a couple of hours, when the door was opened, andClarence came in. Sim had succeeded in navigating t
he boat back to thehotel, and the story of my mishap had been told by Flora.

  "The steamer arrived just before I left," said my brother. "A gentlemancame to the hotel inquiring for you. Who was he, Buck?"

  "He will tell you himself, if he chooses. I suppose he is the person Iwish to see."

  "Buck, I have had my doubts from the beginning; but I feel moreconfident now that you are innocent," he added, taking me by the hand,and exhibiting much emotion. "I have given bail for your appearancebefore the magistrate in the morning, and you may come with me now."

  "I just as lief stay here as not; I am innocent," I replied.

  "I have been talking with the post-office detective, who appears to bea very fair man. He says a valuable letter, which failed to reach itsowner, has been traced to this office since you went away. Of course youcould not have taken that."

  "Nor the other."

  We left the jail and went to the hotel in Torrentville, where we met thedetective. I gave him some information in regard to Ham Fishley'shabits, and he called in the keeper of the livery stable connected withthe hotel. This man assured him that Ham had paid him over thirtydollars within two months for the use of his best team. I suggested thathe should visit Crofton's, and ascertain what presents Miss Elsie hadreceived from her lover, for this was the relation my young tyrantsustained to her, in spite of his and her tender age. He was not quitewilling to ask her himself, but he purposed to find out by some means. Iwas very sure that Ham's father had not given him thirty dollars forhorse hire within two months.

  I did not sleep much that night, I was so nervous and excited. Early thenext morning I went down to Riverport with Clarence. As we drove by thepost-office I saw Captain Fishley and the senator come out of the house.I felt safe then. How Flora hugged me when I met her! How she wept whenI told her I had been put in jail! And how glad Emily was to see me!

  We breakfasted with our friends, and as my examination before themagistrate was to take place at ten o'clock, the whole party started forTorrentville immediately. Sim Gwynn had some doubts about going up toTorrentville, and said "Hookie" with more than usual emphasis, when thething was proposed to him; but Mr. Goodridge promised to save him fromBarkspear's wrath, and he consented to go.

  At ten o'clock our entire party, seven in number, entered the office ofSquire Ward, where the preliminary examination was to take place.