CHAPTER XXV.
MR. SPRIGGINS INTERVIEWS MR. VERNE.
While Mr. Verne sat in his office in Water street, busy as usual on his exchanges, etc, an individual was making his way thither at a rapid gait, which, in fact, bore more closely to business than grace.
The individual was Mr. Spriggins of Mill Crossing. Any one keeping close behind the said gentleman might have heard the following soliloquy.
"Well, sir, I'm deuced glad I didn't let on to Melindy, for like all wimen she'd be a peekin' to see what it was. It's terrible queer that not one of 'em is better than another. Still we can't get along without 'em, nohow."
Here Mr. Spriggins emphasized the remark by a shrug of his herculean shoulders, and allowed himself to think what a blank this world would be without Melindy.
"Wal, I reckon them bisness fellars have so many papers, round that its 'tarnal queer they don't loose money, but ten to one this 'ere thing don't amount to a goose egg."
Mr. Spriggins had now gained the office, and with smiling countenance inquired for Mr. Verne.
A genial "come in" from the inner office inspired our friend with additional confidence.
Mr. Verne bowed in a respectful manner, and taking off his gold-rimmed spectacles motioned the young man to a seat.
"Good morning, sir," said the latter, feeling somewhat embarrassed as how to begin.
"It is fine weather, indeed," returned Mr. Verne, pleasantly.
"Its no use delayin'," thought Moses, "I'll make a bold dash," and jumping up from his seat, exclaimed, "You're Mister Verne that lives in the big house on that high bank up there by the square?"
"Yes, sir," said the latter, respectfully.
"Well, sir, did you ever see this 'ere piece of writin' afore, I picked it up near your house, and supposin' it were your'n I brought it here."
Mr. Spriggins placed the document in Mr. Verne's hand, and the latter glanced at it carelessly at first, and was about to return it to his visitor, when his eye fell upon the following:
"We can make him appear so guilty that all the laws under heaven could not clear him. Two thousand dollars would be a sum sufficient to entrap him. If he is as trusting as you say, the easier will be the job to do it. At any rate, Connors can finish what I undertake— that is the silencing forever of that law sprig."
"Just be seated for a few minutes, sir," said Mr. Verne. "I think this is to me a very important document."
Mr. Spriggins was now quite at home. He took in the surroundings with an air of interest, and became on terms of intimacy with the handsome spaniel that lay near him.
Mr. Verne's hand trembled violently as he re-read the letter. He was deeply agitated, but fortunately the fact escaped Mr. Spriggins' notice.
"I am deeply indebted to you, sir," said Mr. Verne, addressing his visitor. "I trust some day I shall be able to repay you."
There was an earnestness in the tones and also a look of gratitude that made Mr. Spriggins feel a sudden sensation in his throat—a suffocation which made it impossible to reply—the big heart was full to overflowing.
"This is an honest creature," thought Mr. Verne as he pretended not to observe his benefactor's emotion.
Mr. Spriggins rose to go when suddenly Mr. Verne exclaimed "this is not going to be our last meeting Mr. Spriggins," (the latter had introduced himself previous to this) "I want to see you the next time you are in the city. Remember you are welcome at my house any time that you call. Don't forget to come."
Mr. Verne received a more than hearty grasp of Moses' iron hand and graciously escorted him to the door where he disappeared muttering along the street, "By hokey, I'm the luckiest chap in all Christendom. There's no knowin' but what I may turn out to be the biggest gun among 'em yet."
On his way home that day the hilarity of Mr. Spriggins was unbounded. Even the canine denizens of the district through which he passed received compliments of no secondary order, and to quote his own expression "he was the happiest fellar between town and Mill Crossin'." But we must return to Mr. Verne.
About an hour after Mr. Spriggins' departure he is seated in the library at "Sunnybank" waiting summons to luncheon.
"What is the matter with your time in the office, Stephen?" said Mrs. Montgomery with an amused look upon her face. Mr. Verne glanced at his watch.
"I made a mistake of an hour," said he absent-mindedly. "Poor man," thought Mrs. Montgomery, "it is no wonder," and then hurrying off to give orders for an early meal, left him to the misery of his own thoughts.
But this time they were not distracting ones. Mr. Verne had in his possession proof of the baseness of Hubert Tracy and his legal accomplices, and the more he thought of it the more puzzled he was.
How did the letter get in the vicinity of "Sunnybank." It certainly had been in the possession of some person or persons since it had been received by Hubert Tracy, as he had now been abroad for nearly three months. Had it fallen into Mr. Lawson's hands? Could it be possible that he had thus been warned of this conspiracy and changed his course of action?
Mr. Verne thought over the matter and a light seemed to dawn upon him. He remembered of hearing his young friend making some inquiry as regards the affairs of a well known legal firm that had left St. John and earned a well-deserved reputation in the far west. He also thought of certain transactions which went to prove that at times Mr. Lawson's prospects were indeed sadly blue, and that, doubtless, Hubert Tracy had taken advantage of those occasions to hold up the tempting bait.
"Base scoundrel," muttered Mr. Verne with set teeth. "Providence has not allowed him to ruin a noble life."
Mr. Verne was not blind to outward circumstances. He knew full well what had prompted the deed, and he shuddered as he thought of his guileless child associated with such a character. He was in a quandary as to what steps to take that he could ward off suspicion.
Mr. Verne wished to keep the affair a secret until he could have further ground for action. He knew that Mrs. Montgomery would be a sure ally, but second thoughts prompted him to say nothing of the matter just then, so he calmly supped his coffee at luncheon and talked over certain little plans with more than ordinary interest.
"Mr. Lawson is much engaged lately," remarked Mrs. Montgomery, as she passed a second fragrant cup of coffee to Mr. Verne; "he only had time to make a short call last evening. I forgot to tell you before."
"What is the matter, Stephen, you look alarmed or surprised or some such way that I cannot describe," said the woman, glancing again at her brother-in-law.
"I must give you credit for having more of the imaginative than I thought, Hester," said Mr. Verne, trying to cover his agitation with an accusation.
"I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or not, Stephen," said Mrs. Montgomery helping herself to another of the delicious cheese cakes, the pride of the time-honored cook at "Sunnybank."
"You were speaking of Mr. Lawson, Hester. What had he to say?"
"Nothing of much consequence, only that he was much occupied during the week. He seemed in such good spirits that I told him that he must have fleeced some poor mortal unmercifully."
"Hester you are a dreadful woman. It is a good thing that people don't mind what you say."
"It would make little difference to me whether they would or would not, Stephen. I shall always say just what my evil thoughts prompt me to say, and as you remark that is considerable."
In justice to Mrs. Montgomery, we might as well here add, that what she said or did, was in a conscientious way. No slander could ever be traced to her nor could anything that savored of deception find a place in this honest woman's heart.
"But to return good for evil," said Mrs. Montgomery, "I asked Mr.
Lawson to let Lottie go home with me."
"Home?" questioned Mr. Verne, in surprise.
"Yes, Stephen, I cannot stay much longer. The fall work is coming on. Jennie is a host in herself, but I must not impose upon good nature."
"Jennie Montgomery is a rare jewel; and I least of all should insist upon your staying longer. You have, indeed, done much for me."
"Stop, Stephen, I am not going to listen to any such stuff. Indeed, it's a pity I could not come down to amuse myself for a while without you having such notions. The fact is, I needed change of air, and now having a sufficient store to subsist upon for the next half year, think I had better make tracks."
"Did you think of it yesterday, Hester?"
"To be honest with you, Stephen, I scarcely thought of it until the sight of good-natured Moses Spriggins reminded me I had a snug little nest in Kings County, and had better fly away to it."
"Spriggins, did you say, Hester?" queried Mr. Verne, in a manner that showed that the name had been hitherto associated in his mind.
"Yes, sir, I said Spriggins. Did you not know that Melindy Jane Thrasher has a suitor who calls as regularly as he comes to the city?"
Mr. Verne laughed cheerily, a circumstance which was so unusual that the domestics in the basement were on the qui vive to see what was the matter.
"And you happened to interrupt the lovers I suppose," remarked Mr.
Verne in his quaint dry way.
"I did nothing of the kind, Stephen. I met Moses on the landing. I tell you what it is, I have great respect for Moses Spriggins. Yes, for every one of the family," said Mrs. Montgomery in an earnest and respectful manner.
"They live near you Hester?"
"About ten miles, perhaps not so far. Simon Spriggins raised a large family, but there are only two of the boys at home now, and Nell Spriggins is a nice looking girl. I tell you their home is neat and tasteful, although not very showy."
"It seems quite a coincidence that the same Moses Spriggins should have occasion to call at the office to-day—"
"To ask for Melindy Jane Trasher, I suppose," cried Mrs. Montgomery, with as much merriment as a young girl.
"He was merely conveying an important message," said Mr. Verne, "and in course of conversation I was quite interested."
"Moses is one of the best hearted creatures for miles around. He is often imposed upon when anything in the shape of tea meetings or bazaars are on the go."
"All's well that ends well," said Mr. Verne, rising from the table quietly.
"Quite a digression," murmured Mrs. Montgomery, as she touched the gong and arose from her seat.
Within the sanctity of his private apartments Mr. Verne now saw clearly how matters stood. He was convinced that Phillip Lawson had been in possession of the letter and that he had dropped it while going or coming from "Sunnybank," and that Moses Spriggins, following in his footsteps, had picked it up.
"Truly, indeed, 'God moves in a mysterious way,'" mused Mr. Verne as he glanced at the crumpled paper, "and to think they have been foiled in the outset. To think that I have entertained such a monster, and to have heard him applauded until I was nigh sick. Heavens! if there be a retributive justice it shall surely be meted out to that accursed viper, Hubert Tracy."
The compressed lips and fierce scowl gave expression to the anger within, and showed that when once aroused Stephen Verne was "a foeman worthy of his steel."
He deliberated long upon his young friend's magnanimity.
"Lawson is a man of ten thousand, else he would have had the satisfaction of seeing the whole gang reap their reward. Aye, lynching is too good for them, the scoundrels. But the time will come when they'll be found out, for they'll not stop at that," and in clear distinct tones Mr. Verne repeated the following lines:—
"Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small; Though with patience He stands waiting, with exactness grinds He all."
Mrs. Montgomery was not satisfied with Mr. Verne's evasiveness. Like most women she had a fair share of curiosity, and now she was doubly curious.
"It's no earthly use to try to sift Stephen, for he's as firm as a granite bowlder; but one thing is certain, there's something in the wind just now—something in which Mr. Lawson and Moses Spriggins are both concerned, though either or both may be unaware of it. Let me see," continued Mrs. Montgomery, elevating her eyebrows, and looking very much like a lawyer when he has his client's opponent in the witness stand. "Mr. Lawson was here last night and left early. Moses Spriggins was here also, and left later. Now, as to what took Moses to the office that's where the mystery is, and that there is one I am as certain as the head is on my body."
One good trait in Mrs. Montgomery's character was that she never lost confidence in a friend until she had the most positive proof of his guilt, her honest nature was slow to believe in the worst side of humanity.
"Whatever it is," murmured she, "it is the doings of some other parties, for both are above suspicion."
The entrance of Mr. Verne put an end to the soliloquy, but did not drive away the subject, and when the latter was safely out of hearing, Mrs. Montgomery exclaimed to herself "I see plainly that Stephen is deeply agitated. He seldom carries that look. It is something of an uncommon nature that has aroused him. He thinks he hides his secret whatever it be, but poor Stephen is not schooled in the ways of deception, and in the end it is better so." And repeating the words, "'tis better so," the whole-hearted woman was soon occupied over the ways and means of domestic economy.