“I quite agree with you, sir; and I think that between us we may find a way to restore Toby Clark’s reputation to its former purity without drawing Hazel Chandler into the mire. When Mrs. Ritchie knows that her treachery and embezzlements have been discovered, I think she can be induced to sign a statement that her box was not stolen at all.”
“I see your point, Mr. Spaythe. And now please tell us about that paper.”
The banker excused himself a moment and went into the counting room, in the rear of which stood a large safe. From a drawer which he unlocked he took a paper and with it returned to his private office.
“Although this document has been for years in Judge Ferguson’s keeping,” began Mr. Spaythe, “its character and contents were unknown to him, for before she placed it in her box Mrs. Ritchie enclosed it in a heavy yellow envelope which she sealed and marked ‘private.’ The girl who took the box tore open the envelope, perhaps thinking it contained money, and so enabled me to make a discovery that otherwise might never have come to light. The moment I saw this paper I became interested, for it is a will, properly probated and attested, and on the outside it is docketed: ‘Last Will and Testament of Alonzo Clark.’”
“Alonzo Clark?” echoed Phoebe; “why, who was he, sir?”
“The father of Toby Clark. I knew him very slightly during the years preceding his death, when he lived at Riverdale. He once attempted to borrow some money from the bank on some mining stock which I considered worthless; so I refused him. He was a relative of Mrs. Ritchie.”
“I never knew that!” cried Phoebe, surprised.
“Nor I, until recently,” replied the banker. “This document which I now hold bequeaths to Alonzo Clark’s only child, Toby Clark, all of his interest in that mining stock, making Mrs. Ritchie the executor and providing that in case the stock becomes valuable and pays dividends it must not be sold or otherwise disposed of, but the proceeds shall be devoted to the education of Toby and the balance reserved until he is of age, when it is all to be turned over to him. During the minority of Toby, Mrs. Ritchie is to properly educate and clothe him and she is authorized to retain ten per cent of the income in payment for her services as trustee.”
“You say the stock is worthless?” asked the governor.
“I thought it was, at the time Alonzo Clark brought it to me; but when first I saw this paper I found that the will had been probated and Mrs. Ritchie duly appointed executor and trustee under its terms. That fact, and the woman’s eagerness to recover the paper, led me to suspect that the stock had become valuable; so I retained the will and began to investigate both the mine and the history of Alonzo Clark. As I told you, the first important report of these investigations reached me to-day. I will briefly relate to you their purport, rather than ask you to wade through the verbose mass of evidence submitted.”
“That will be best, I think,” agreed the governor.
“Alonzo Clark was a mining engineer of education and ability, who was employed by large corporations as an expert, to examine mines and report upon their value. He successfully pursued this vocation for several years and came to be regarded as a reliable judge of both copper and gold mines. Then he met with a misfortune. While in a rough mining camp in Arizona he fell in love with a plump, pretty girl — the daughter of one of the superintendents — and married her. She became Toby’s mother and proved far beneath her husband in both refinement and intellect. At about the same time that he married, Clark conceived what he thought a clever idea to make his fortune. Being sent to examine an outlying mine that had never been developed, he found it to contain the richest deposit of copper he had ever known of — so rich, in fact, that it was destined to become one of the greatest copper mines in America. A company of capitalists would purchase and develop this mine if Clark reported on it favorably. He forwarded them some very ordinary specimens of ore and said he believed the mine would pay a fair profit if worked economically, but be predicted no big things of it. Then he set to work to invest every dollar he had in the world in stock of this very mine, and he was able to secure a large quantity because his discouraging report had failed to inspire the promoters with any degree of enthusiasm. Then the schemer became properly punished, for the men who had formed the company got possession of another mine that promised better, but in which Clark had no interest, and devoted their exclusive attention to working that. Clark dared not argue the matter with them, for he had declared the rich mine to be unimportant, so be was obliged to wait until the company was ready to develop it, when he knew it would speedily make him rich.
“This affair ruined the engineer’s life — that, and his wife’s dissolute habits, for she became addicted to drink and her companionship was not pleasant. Clark had beggared himself by his large purchase of stock and his vain dreams of wealth speedily destroyed his usefulness in his profession. In a few years he lost all ambition, became discredited in mining circles and finally drifted here, perhaps being attracted to Riverdale by the fact that a distant cousin — the only relative I have been able to trace — lived near here in the person of Mrs. Ritchie, a widow with a large and prosperous farm.
“It seems that Mrs. Ritchie, however, would do nothing to assist the impoverished Clarks, who had brought their little son Toby with them. She even doubted the man’s story about his rich mine, which he declared would some day bring him a fortune. She is very shrewd in business matters and knew that mining stock is dangerous to gamble on. Clark did a little work in the village, but not much, for he was incapable of steady manual labor. He fished a good deal in the river and won the name of being lazy, surly and unsocial. As a matter of fact he was a disappointed man and had fallen rapidly in the social scale. His wife soon drank herself to death and a year or so afterward Clark contracted pneumonia on the river and soon passed away, having previously made his will and given it to Mrs. Ritchie for safe keeping.
“Toby was a much neglected boy, as you may imagine,” continued Mr. Spaythe, after a brief pause. “Mrs. Ritchie ignored his very existence and after his father’s death the little fellow continued to reside in the shanty by the river — a ragged, barefooted urchin whom everyone liked because he was so sunny natured and agreeable. He inherited his father’s intellect but not his misanthropic ideas. Toby was not only willing, but glad to work and earned a modest living by doing odd jobs until, finally, Judge Ferguson noticed him and took charge of the boy. I think, governor, I have now given you the entire Clark history.”
“But the mine?” said the governor, greatly interested in the story.
“By a queer whim of fate the mine was developed soon after Alonzo Clark’s death and its enormous wealth became a seven days ‘wonder. I believe it is to-day reputed one of the best paying mines on this continent, which proves that the engineer knew what he was doing when he invested his all in its stock. Mrs. Ritchie evidently heard of the great mine, for she had Clark’s will probated and applied for letters of administration, which were granted her. For several years she has been receiving dividends on the stock — which is worth a fortune to Toby, by the way — and yet the woman has kept her secret and the money to herself. Never a penny has been applied to Toby’s needs or to his education.”
“Oh, how dreadful!” exclaimed Phoebe, who was really shocked at this recital of Mrs. Ritchie’s perfidy.
“Her intention, I suppose,” said the banker, “was to continue to retain these receipts for herself. Toby had no other relatives to interfere in his behalf; he was too young at the time of his father’s death to know anything about the mine, and I doubt if he knew — or yet knows — that he is in any way related to Mrs. Ritchie. The deception might have continued indefinitely had not the box been stolen and so, by a chain of curious accidents, the will of Alonzo Clark discovered by those interested in Toby.”
After the banker had concluded his relation all three were silent for a time, pondering on the remarkable discovery. Then Phoebe said:
“I cannot understand, in view of the fact that Mrs
. Ritchie was deliberately robbing Toby, why she was so bitter against him, or why she had him arrested and is even now trying to send him to prison.”
“That is a natural sequence, my dear,” replied the governor. “The woman has been greatly worried over the loss of this document, which, falling into certain hands — such as those of Mr. Spaythe — would perhaps lead to the discovery of her perversion of trust funds, which is a very serious crime. Perhaps she thinks that in some way Toby Clark has himself gained possession of the will, but believes that if he is discredited and put in prison he cannot appear against her. Without Mr. Spaythe’s exhaustive researches no one in Riverdale would be likely to know that the mine described in the elder Clark’s will had become valuable. The will itself would mean little or nothing to Toby unless he had opportunity to investigate his father’s bequest. There was a fair chance of Mrs. Ritchie’s evading detection, even with the will missing; but Toby in prison would be more safe to her interests than Toby at liberty.”
“Toby mustn’t go to prison,” declared Phoebe, with energy.
“Certainly not,” replied Mr. Spaythe. “The boy must regain the position in society to which he is fully entitled.”
“Can’t we do anything to Mrs. Ritchie?” she asked.
“We’ll try,” said the governor, looking at his watch. “Just now dinner is waiting at the Daring mansion and I promised Judith I’d not forget it. But this afternoon I’d like to drive over with you, Mr. Spaythe, to see the woman.”
“I will be glad to accompany you,” replied the banker. “We close at one o’clock on Saturday, you know; so at two, if you will be ready, I will call for you with my motor car.”
“That will be quite satisfactory,” said the governor, rising. Then he hesitated a moment. “May we take Phoebe with us?” he asked. “She has been so interested in this affair and has already accomplished so much in Toby’s behalf that I think she is entitled to be present at the climax.”
“I think so, too,” answered Mr. Spaythe readily. “Do you care to go, Phoebe!”
“Yes, if you please.”
Then she and Cousin John went home to dinner and the youngsters, who suspected something important was under way, were able to drag no information from their big sister beyond mysterious looks and sundry shakes of the bead, which of course aroused their curiosity to the highest pitch.
“I think you might tell us, Phoebe,” pouted Sue, disconsolately. “I always tell you my secrets.”
Cousin John laughed.
“Listen, then,” said he. “We’ve discovered that Toby Clark is innocent and that we can prove it; so he is no longer in danger of prison. That’s more than Toby Clark knows yet. Furthermore, we have discovered that Toby is not a mere nobody, as everyone has considered him, but the owner of considerable valuable property. I say ‘we’ have discovered this, but really it was Phoebe who solved the whole mystery. Now, if you can keep this secret for a few days, until the newspaper prints the complete story, I’ll take you into my confidence the next time I know a secret.”
Don cheered and Becky clapped her hands in delight, while Sue cried ecstatically: “Bully for Toby!” and was promptly repressed by Phoebe, who was annoyed by such a wild demonstration in the presence of the great man. But Cousin John seemed to enjoy the outburst.
Judith has listened gravely and seemed surprised.
“Is this indeed the truth?” she asked.
“Part of it,” replied the governor. “When Phoebe and I return from a little trip this afternoon you shall have the entire story, with all the details. You see, we’re rehearsing a little show of our own. The play isn’t entirely finished yet, for the last act is on and we must corner the villain before the final curtain falls.”
This contented them for the time, for they really believed they had been taken into the great man’s confidence; but when Mr. Spaythe’s automobile drew up at the door and Phoebe and the governor entered it, they were followed by envious looks and much speculation among the Darings as to their errand.
“I hope,” said Sue, anxiously, “the villain won’t hurt Phoebe.”
“Pshaw!” returned Don, with scorn, “villains never amount to anything; they’re only put in a play to be knocked out in the last round.”
CHAPTER XXV
HOW TOBY WON HIS HERITAGE
Mrs. Ritchie was hoeing that afternoon in her vegetable garden, which adjoined the spacious farmhouse where she resided. She was attired in a faded calico dress and a weatherworn sun-bonnet, and her heavy leather shoes were rusty and clogged by constant contact with the soil.
There were several servants upon the plantation, and there were afforded an excellent example of industry by their mistress, who “worked like a hired man” herself and made everyone around her labor just as energetically.
The arrival of Lawyer Kellogg on his bicycle, which he had ridden over from Riverdale, did not interrupt Mrs. Ritchie’s task. She merely gave her attorney an ungracious nod and said: “Well?”
“I’ve come over to see you about the trial,” he announced. “It begins next Thursday, at Bayport, and I must know exactly what you want to do about Toby Clark.”
“Give him a long sentence — the longer the better.”
“He is sure to get that if we prove him guilty.”
She looked at him suspiciously.
“Why do you say ‘if’?” she asked.
Kellogg smiled.
“Any trial is uncertain, Mrs. Ritchie,” said he. “Unexpected things are liable to happen to change the probable verdict. I think we have enough evidence against Toby to prove our case, but those terrible children have greatly influenced popular opinion by means of their parades and we can’t tell who the jury will be, or whether we can depend on them.”
“Can’t the jury be fixed?” asked the woman, after some thought.
“It would cost a lot of money, and it isn’t a safe thing to do,” returned her lawyer, standing beside her as she hoed. “And that reminds me to speak of my own expenses and fees.”
“Well, what about ‘em?”
“You promised me a hundred dollars if I recovered the contents of your box. I’ve returned to you all your money, bonds and papers; but you haven’t paid me yet.”
“There’s a paper missing.”
“One. I do not suppose you intend to withhold my money on that account.”
“Why not!”
“Because I should then sue you for it and the court would award me damages.”
She gave a contemptuous snort.
“Do you want that matter of the box aired!” she asked.
“Do you want that will investigated — the paper which is missing?” he retorted.
Mrs. Ritchie laughed.
“I’ll give you fifty dollars now, and fifty when you get that last paper,” said she.
“You’ll give me a hundred now. The price of the paper was a thousand dollars.”
“Have you got track of it yet?” she asked quickly.
“No. I’m not going to undertake that trial for nothing, Mrs. Ritchie. There’ll be a lot of work and expense about it and, if you want Toby Clark imprisoned for stealing your box, you’ve got to pay handsomely for it.”
“How much?”
“I want a hundred dollars in advance and two hundred more if I win.”
“You’re a thief!” she snarled.
“No other lawyer would undertake the case at any price. It will make me very unpopular to prosecute Toby Clark.”
“You’re not much of a favorite now,” said Mrs. Ritchie. “Very well, I’ll give you a hundred dollars.”
“I want two hundred to-day. A hundred for recovering your property and a hundred in advance for the trial.”
She dropped her hoe and stared at him. Then she sighed.
“Come into the house. You’re a scoundrel, Abner Kellogg, and you ain’t earned half the money; but I’ll he generous.”
“No; you’ll be sensible,” he said, following her up the path. “Yo
u’ve got some secret that’s worth money to you, Mrs. Ritchie, and which you don’t care to have discovered; and it’s connected with Toby Clark.”
“That’s a lie.”
She ushered him into the front room and left him there while she went to get the money. When she returned she placed four fifty-dollar bills in his hand.
“Oh; cash, is it?” he said in a pleased tone.
“I don’t trust banks; they’re tricky. That’s all the ready money I’ve got in the house. The rest is in a new box with Miles Hubbard, over in Bayport.”
“Why didn’t you put it in my care?” asked Kellogg.
“Because you’re a dishonest cur.”
He reddened a little.
“Then why don’t you employ Hubbard to prosecute Toby Clark?”
“He wouldn’t take the case.”
“I see. Well, I’ve raised my price, Mrs. Ritchie. I want a hundred more in advance.”
“You can’t have it.”
“I think I can.”
“I won’t be bled, Abner Kellogg!”
“No; you prefer to bleed others.”
“You insolent pettifogger! What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that I want another hundred dollars — before I make a single move in this case.”
While she sat glaring at him an automobile stopped in the road before the house. The woman turned her head and through the window saw Phoebe Daring, Mr. Spaythe and a stranger alight and enter the gate.
“Tell ‘em I ain’t at home, Kellogg,” she exclaimed in a half frightened voice.
“Better face the music,” said the lawyer, who had noted the arrivals. “If there’s danger, as I suspect, face it boldly. You can’t save the day by running away.”
“You stand by me, then, Kellogg. I’ll give you the other hundred when they’re gone.”
He smiled grimly, but there was no time for reply. The bell rang and Mrs. Ritchie went to the door.
“May we speak with you — on business — Mrs. Ritchie?” asked Mr. Spaythe.
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 363