“It is no plot, Mr. Fenton,” put in Matt. “For my poor father’s sake as well as my own, I ask for justice; that is all. Your actions unbalanced my father’s mind, and if I wanted to be hard-hearted I would not rest until you were behind the prison bars.”
“Stuff and nonsense! This is all a put-up job——”
“Don’t get excited, Mr. Fenton,” said the lawyer pointedly. “The boy is letting you down very easily, to my way of thinking.”
“Tut-tut! I won’t listen to a word! I want you all to leave this office and stop this farce!”
“If we have to leave without satisfaction you will go with Mr. Briarly, the detective,” cried Matt. “Now you can take your choice. I am no longer your office boy, and you cannot twist me around your finger.”
These words filled Randolph Fenton with rage. He wanted to abuse everybody within hearing, but both the lawyer and the detective cut him short by threatening him with immediate arrest. Finally he asked for time in which to consider the case.
This was granted, but after they left Matt instructed the detective to keep a close watch on the man, fearful that Fenton, who, according to Mr. Gaston’s statement, was in bad favor in a number of places, would convert what securities he held into cash and leave for parts unknown.
It was well that Matt did this, for on the following night the detective captured the broker just as the latter was boarding a train at the Grand Central depot. He had a satchel full of money with him, and in his card case was found a railroad ticket for Montreal, Canada. Randolph Fenton was placed under arrest, and then all of his many misdeeds were thoroughly investigated and exposed.
Out of the wreckage the swindling broker had 309 left behind him Matt was able to secure three-fourths of the rightful shares of mining stock for his father. These shares had gone up in value and were found to be worth close on to fifty-eight thousand dollars. To Matt, who, in his wanderings around, had learned the true value of money, it seemed a fortune.