“Barney has gone!” said Philippa simply as she put her hand into the one outstretched to meet it. Then as she met the grave tenderness of the gaze that was turned upon her, for the first time she broke down and sobbed out a wild appeal: “Oh, find him for me—find him for me! He has run away, and it is all my fault. I brought him to this terrible city, and shut him up in an office all day long; and Barney is such a restless creature; he can’t endure confinement. If he got into trouble here, when we were all near him, what will Income of him now when he is alone? Oh, find him for me! Bring him back—”
“I will, Miss Philippa, if it is humanly possible,” replied the Hermit gravely. And then Madge’s story was retold, and the question raised again as to how Barney had come into possession of so much money.
“I can account for some of it at least,” Mr Neil said. “I saw that the boy was troubled, and found out that he was in need of money. Eventually he asked me for the loan of five pounds. I said, ‘My boy, you must not begin borrowing at your age. It is a bad habit, and I won’t encourage you in it. But I had made up my mind to give you a cheque for a Christmas present; and you shall have it in advance, if that would be a help to you.’ He said it would, and I gave him the five pounds for which he had asked.”
“It was not right of you. No! you should not have done it. It was leading the boy into temptation.” Philippa spoke in tones of strong reproach; but though Mr Neil’s face was troubled, it was in nowise repentant.
“I have been a boy in an office myself, Miss Philippa,” he said gently, “for two years—two long, miserable years—and I know—forgive me for saying so—that there is an even greater temptation in being too short of money. When a lad gets his first taste of independence it goes hard with him if he cannot indulge in the little luxuries which his companions enjoy; and the shops seem irresistible. I hoped that by means of my gift Barney might be able to pay off his debts and start afresh.”
“You have been very generous and very forgiving, Mr Neil,” said Steve; “and we are much indebted to you. But what can we do this morning? I must get to the office as soon as I can, for there are already two men away. It won’t do for me to lose my berth into the bargain.”
Steve spoke with a tinge of bitterness, for in truth he found himself in a painful position—the position of the elder brother in the parable. He had never got into debt, nor betted, nor failed in a single instance in his duty to his sisters, and it was a little hard to realise, as he did this morning, that to each one of the four—Phil included—the curly-headed prodigal was dearer than himself. He looked at the Hermit, and asked anxiously, “Can you come with me?”
“It is what I was about to propose. I am my own master, and can give all my time to the search. We had better go to the office first, and try to discover who was the companion of the tobacconist’s shop; then if we get a clue I will follow it up.”
“Right,” said Steve, and went into the little hall, to find Hope already brushing the coat which she had taken down from its peg. She helped him to put it on, turned down the collar at the back, and let her hand rest against his neck as she murmured a few low words: “Dear old Steve! What should we do without you?” It was always Hope’s way to divine a wound and lay a healing hand upon it.
The two men went straight to the insurance office, and interviewed the manager in his room. “Waxworks,” as Barney had irreverently dubbed him, was unaffectedly grieved to hear of the boy’s flight, and repentant of his own share in the catastrophe. “I liked the lad,” he said. “One could not help liking him. If I had consulted my own wishes only I should have lectured him and let him stay on, but in a big place like this it is necessary to keep a firm hand. I had overlooked several breaches of discipline, and it could not go on. He must be found, of course; and then, if you take my advice, you will let him live an out-of-door life. Send him abroad. He is just the type that is wanted in the colonies. Now I’ll send for Young, and you can question him as you please.”