Paul Prescott's Charge

by Jr. Horatio Alger

  XXX.

  A TRAP IS LAID FOR PAUL.

  Three months before, George Dawkins had made his first visit to agambling house. At first, he had entered only from curiosity. He watchedthe play with an interest which gradually deepened, until he was easilypersuaded to try his own luck. The stakes were small, but fortunefavored him, and he came out some dollars richer than he entered. Itwould have been fortunate for him if he had failed. As it was, hisgood fortune encouraged him to another visit. This time he was lessfortunate, but his gains about balanced his losses, so that he came outeven. On the next occasion he left off with empty pockets. So it went onuntil at length he fell into the hands of Duval, who had no scruple infleecing him to as great an extent as he could be induced to go.

  George Dawkins's reflections were not of the most cheerful character as,leaving Duval, he slowly pursued his way homeward. He felt that he hadfallen into the power of an unscrupulous villain, who would have nomercy upon him. He execrated his own folly, without which all themachination of Duval would have been without effect.

  The question now, however, was, to raise the money. He knew of no oneto whom he could apply except his father, nor did he have much hope fromthat quarter. Still, he would make the effort.

  Reaching home he found his father seated in the library. He looked upfrom the evening paper as George entered.

  "Only half-past nine," he said, with an air of sarcasm. "You spend yourevenings out so systematically that your early return surprises me. Howis it? Has the theater begun to lose its charm!"

  There was no great sympathy between father and son, and if either feltaffection for the other, it was never manifested. Mutual recriminationwas the rule between them, and George would now have made an angryanswer but that he had a favor to ask, and felt it politic to beconciliatory.

  "If I had supposed you cared for my society, sir, I would have remainedat home oftener."

  "Umph!" was the only reply elicited from his father.

  "However, there was a good reason for my not going to the theaterto-night."

  "Indeed!"

  "I had no money."

  "Your explanation is quite satisfactory," said his father, with a slightsneer. "I sympathize in your disappointment."

  "There is no occasion, sir," said George, good humoredly, for him. "Ihad no great desire to go."

  Dawkins took down a book from the library and tried to read, butwithout much success. His thoughts continually recurred to his pecuniaryembarrassments, and the debt which he owed to Duval seemed to hang likea millstone around his neck. How should he approach his father on thesubject? In his present humor he feared he would have little chance.

  As his father laid down the newspaper Dawkins said, "Wouldn't you like agame of checkers, sir?"

  This, as he well knew, was a favorite game with his father.

  "I don't know but I should," said Mr. Dawkins, more graciously than washis wont.

  The checker-board was brought, and the two commenced playing. Threegames were played all of which his father won. This appeared to puthim in a good humor, for as the two ceased playing, he drew aten-dollar-bill from his pocket-book, and handed to his son, with theremark, "There, George, I don't want you to be penniless. You are alittle extravagant, though, I think. Your pay from Mr. Danforth ought tokeep you in spending money."

  "Yes, sir, I have been rather extravagant, but I am going to reform."

  "I am very glad to hear it."

  "I wish, sir," said George a moment afterwards, "that you would allow meto buy my own clothes."

  "I've no sort of an objection, I am sure. You select them now, don'tyou?"

  "Yes, sir, but I mean to suggest that you should make me an allowancefor that purpose,--about as much as it costs now,--and give me the moneyto spend where I please."

  Mr. Dawkins looked sharply at his son.

  "The result would probably be," he said, "that the money would beexpended in other ways, and I should have to pay for the clothes twiceover."

  Dawkins would have indignantly disclaimed this, if he had not felt thathe was not altogether sincere in the request he had made.

  "No," continued his father, "I don't like the arrangement you propose.When you need clothing you can go to my tailor and order it, of coursenot exceeding reasonable limits."

  "But," said Dawkins, desperately, "I don't like Bradshaw's style ofmaking clothes. I would prefer trying some other tailor."

  "What fault have you to find with Bradshaw? Is he not one of the mostfashionable tailors in the city?"

  "Yes, sir, I suppose so, but----"

  "Come, sir, you are growing altogether too particular. All your garmentsset well, so far as I can judge."

  "Yes, sir, but one likes a change sometimes," persisted George, a littleembarrassed for further objections.

  "Well," said Mr. Dawkins, after a pause, "If you are so strongly bentupon a new tailor, select one, and order what you need. You can tell himto send in his bill to me."

  "Thank you sir," said his son, by no means pleased at the manner inwhich his request had been granted. He saw that it would in no mannerpromote the plan which he had in view, since it would give him nocommand of the ready money. It is hardly necessary to say that hisalleged dissatisfaction with his father's tailor had all been trumpedup for the occasion, and would never have been thought of but for thepresent emergency.

  "What shall I do!" thought Dawkins, in perplexity, as he slowlyundressed himself and retired to bed.

  The only true course, undoubtedly, was to confess all to his father,to incur the storm of reproaches which would have followed as the justpenalty of his transgression, and then the haunting fear of discoverywould have been once and forever removed. But Dawkins was not braveenough for this. He thought only of escaping from his present difficultywithout his father's knowledge.

  He rose the next morning with the burden of care still weighing uponhim. In the evening the thought occurred to him that he might retrievehis losses where he had incurred them, and again he bent his steps tothe gambling house. He risked five dollars, being one-half of what hehad. This was lost. Desperately he hazarded the remaining five dollars,and lost again.

  With a muttered oath he sprang to his feet, and left the brilliant room,more gloomy and discouraged than ever. He was as badly off as before,and penniless beside. He would have finished the evening at the theater,but his recent loss prevented that. He lounged about the streets till itwas time to go to bed, and then went home in a very unsatisfactory stateof mind.

  A day or two after, he met on Broadway the man whom of all others hewould gladly have avoided.

  "Aha, my friend, I am glad to meet you," said Duval, for it was he.

  Dawkins muttered something unintelligible, and would have hurried on,but Duval detained him.

  "Why are you in such a hurry, my friend?" he said.

  "Business," returned Dawkins, shortly.

  "That reminds me of the little business affair between us, mon ami. Haveyou got any money for me?"

  "Not yet."

  "Not yet! It is three days since we saw each other. Could you not dosomething in three days?"

  "I told you I required a week," said Dawkins, roughly, "Let go my arm. Itell you I am in haste."

  "Very well, mon ami," said Duval, slowly relinquishing his hold, "takecare that you do not forget. There are four days more to the week."

  Dawkins hurried on feeling very uncomfortable. He was quite aware thatfour days hence he would be as unprepared to encounter the Frenchman asnow. Still, something might happen.

  Something, unfortunately, did happen.

  The next day Mr. Danforth was counting a roll of bills which had beenjust paid in, when he was unexpectedly called out of the counting-room.He unguardedly left the bills upon his own desk. Dawkins saw them lyingthere. The thought flashed upon him, "There lies what will relieve mefrom all my embarrassment."

  Allowing himself scarcely a minute to think, he took from the roll fourfifty dollar notes, thrust one into the
pocket of Paul's overcoat, whichhung up in the office, drew off his right boot and slipped the otherthree into the bottom of it, and put it on again. He then nervouslyresumed his place at his desk. A moment afterwards, Paul, who had beento the post-office, entered with letters which he carried into the inneroffice and deposited on Mr. Danforth's desk. He observed the rollof bills, and thought his employer careless in leaving so much moneyexposed, but said nothing on the subject to Dawkins, between whom andhimself there was little communication.