The Black Forge Mills

by William P. Chipman

"I at present see no reason why I should tell you."

The lawyer smiled and changed his tactics.

"Mr. Branford," he said, "let us understand each other. I ask these questions, not in the interest of the prosecution, but in the interest of the defense, at the coming trial. Mr. Hyde is my client, and it is at his request I have sent for you. You will, of course, be summoned by the prosecution, and we have reason to believe that you might prove a very damaging witness, in case you told all you know about the Black Forge fire. We respect the motives that have so far kept you silent concerning what you do know; we simply ask, is it your intention to make a full revelation on the witness stand, or will you preserve the same reticence that has characterized you ever since the fire?"

This was certainly coming directly to the point. Ray had no doubt now why he had been sent for, nor regarding Mr. Gregory's meaning. But he did not immediately answer. He was thinking—thinking more clearly than he had at any time since his lamentable discovery. He had not thought before of his being called as a witness, but he saw plainly now that such would be the case. He had been the first to report the fire, and his testimony on that point would be desired at the least. How could he under oath avoid telling the whole truth? If honest, would he not there have to declare what he really knew? He did not, however, care to commit himself either way just yet, so he replied:

"I have not admitted yet, Mr. Gregory, that I know any more about the fire than I have already made known. But suppose I do continue to maintain the same position I have so far occupied, what then?"

His answer seemed to give his questioner much satisfaction, for he nodded his head toward his companion in a way that seemed to indicate "We are not mistaken in our man." Then he continued:

"I see, Mr. Branford, I must be even more explicit with you. But I expected it from what I have heard of you. In brief, then, and coming directly to my point, Mr. Hyde has every reason to believe that it was you who so pluckily grappled with him, as he jumped down from the mill fence on the night of the fire. He believes also that you know who his companions were, and that there is a special reason why you have in no way betrayed him, or them, since your discovery. Now, since you have had a reason of your own for keeping this knowledge to yourself so long, doubtless you will have a reason to still maintain your reticence. So we are asking you to do nothing that you have not already done, Mr. Branford; probably nothing but that you still propose to do. We only say we are much interested in you; we think so able a young fellow as you have shown yourself to be should have the education he so much desires; and as a token of our good will merely, we propose to present you with a thousand dollars in cash, when you give us the assurance that you will not remember on the witness stand that you saw either of those four men on the night of the fire. My friend, Mr. Wilson, has the money with him now, and will hand it over to you as soon as you give us this promise. You understand me, I trust, Mr. Branford."

These words were very persuasively and smilingly uttered. And to make the temptation as great as possible, Mr. Wilson took out his pocketbook, and counting ten one hundred dollar bills, laid them on the table in easy reach of the lad. "Just your promise, Mr. Branford, that you will throughout the trial maintain the position you have steadily held since the fire, and you may put those bills into your pocket," he said, and as though he felt sure of the lad's acceptance he closed his pocketbook, and put it away.

How did the temptation affect Ray? It opened his eyes to the true position he had been occupying all those weeks, and enabled him to see himself as he had not done before. It was a rude awakening. The shock was one that filled him with alarm. Could it be possible that the standpoint he had taken respecting his duty in this matter of the fire was one that led the criminals themselves to believe he was in sympathy with them? Had they really thought he could be bought with a price? That he would sell his manhood, his Christian faith, betray his Master, for a paltry thousand dollars? The blood boiled within him at the insult, and yet he restrained himself. He even grew perfectly calm, and smiled upon them. He felt his contemptible position had merited just such a stinging rebuke. More than that, he had determined to outwit these scoundrels, and even before he left the city to clear his name and reputation from every shadow of reproach that his weeks of silence had brought upon it.

"Gentlemen," he said, with provoking coolness, "this is a remarkable offer of yours. It is one that should not be accepted hastily. How long are you willing to give me that I may think it over?"