The gentlemen, however, overruled all his objections; and Mr. Kilby promised him rest after to-morrow. The arrangements for the morning were then agreed upon, and Harrison left them to hasten home.
Notwithstanding his head was aching severely, his heart was so much lightened of its heavy load that he sprung up the stairs, and entered the room with a smile of pleased anticipation. He knew his mother would be gratified at the course he had pursued.
She was sitting in a low chair at the table, upon which lay the open Bible. Little imagining that she was strengthening her heart to bear some great sorrow, he advanced and put his arms around her neck as in days long gone by. "O, mother!" he exclaimed, kissing her cheek, "I feel like myself once more. Such a burden as I have carried for six long, weary months. I would not surely bear it again for—for anything—short of duty, of course, I mean."
Mrs. Danforth burst into tears. "O, my son!" she sobbed out, "tell me that you have never departed from the instructions of this holy book; I care for nothing else."
"I cannot say that," he replied, in a subdued tone; "for you have taught me that we do depart from God's commands every hour; but I can relieve you at once with regard to the present case. It does not at all concern myself, except as I have been the means of exposing the villainy of two rogues."
"You, Harrison! You are young for such business."
"Yes, mother, and therefore unsuspected; but please give me some supper, and I will tell you the whole story. Here, let me wipe your eyes, and see you smile once more. I am sorry I did not tell you all from the beginning. Mr. Cowles must hear it too. I wonder whether he suspected what I was about?"
It had been agreed by Mr. Kilby and the lawyer that Harrison's first business at the store should be to ascertain whether the old books had been removed. Upon opening the safe, he found that they were taken out, and the new ones arranged neatly in their places. He was much disturbed at this, and walked to the front of the store, reflecting what he should do. Among a pile of bags of grain his eyes rested for a moment upon a square box, nailed up and directed to William Ransom, Calender street. His heart beat wildly as his eye measured the size to compare it with the books. Ho was almost sure it contained them.
The truckman would be here soon with his team. How should he contrive to detain it? Seizing a favorable moment, when the porter was employed at another part of the store, he attempted to lift the box, but found it required the exertion of all his strength to convey it ever so short a distance. He relinquished at once the idea of carrying it up stairs; but merely opened a door near by, leading into a closet used for rubbish, pushed it in and threw a basketful of papers over it.
It was unnecessary now to retain in his possession the key of the safe; and therefore he proceeded in his usual business, after writing on a scrap of paper, "All safe; search closet,—right hand of office,—for square box;" or some word to signify his success, he had been directed to give Mr. Kilby or the police who would accompany him, on their entrance to the store. All his anxiety now was lest some inquiry should be made for the books by Mr. Ransom before Mr. Kilby should appear; but he comforted himself that even in that case he could direct them to Mr. Ransom's room in Calender street.