Aunt Jane's Nieces on Vacation Part 13

"How about the make-up?" asked Uncle John.

"I can manage that easily, sir. I've been watching the operation and understand it perfectly."

"And you believe you can do the work of three men?"

"Three men were unnecessary in a small plant like this, sir. Whoever sent them to you did not understand very well your requirements. I've been watching the compositors, too, and your three girls are one too many. Two are sisters, and can set all the type very easily. I recommend that you send the other back to New York."

They considered this advice seriously.

"I think Mr. Smith is right," observed Patsy. "The girls have not seemed busy, at all, and spend most of their time laughing and talking together."

"It will cut down expenses a lot," said Beth, "and I'm sure we ought to be able to run this paper more economically than we have been doing."

Uncle John looked at the man thoughtfully.

"Where did you learn the printing business?" he asked.

"I--I don't know, sir."

"What offices have you worked in?"

"I cannot tell you that, sir."

"You seem to answer all my questions with the statement that you 'don't know,'" a.s.serted Mr. Merrick, with an annoyed frown. "Is there any reason you should refuse to tell us of your former life?"

"None whatever, sir."

"Who are you, Smith?"

"I--I don't know, sir."

Mr. Merrick was getting provoked.

"This obstinacy is not likely to win our confidence," he said. "Under the circ.u.mstances I think we ought to know something more about you, before we allow you to undertake so much responsibility. You seem a bright, able young man, and I've no doubt you understand the work you're about to undertake, but if we have no knowledge of your antecedents you may cause us considerable future trouble."

Smith bowed his head and his cheeks flamed red.

"I have no knowledge of my antecedents to confide to you, sir," he said in a low voice.

Uncle John sighed regretfully and turned away, but Patsy looked at the man with new interest.

"Won't you please explain that a little more fully?" she gently inquired.

"I am quite willing to tell all I know," said he; "but that is very little, I a.s.sure you. Two years ago last May, on the morning of Thursday, the twenty-second, I awoke to find myself lying in a ditch beside a road. Of my life previous to that time I have no knowledge whatever."

The three girls regarded him with startled eyes. Uncle John turned from the window to examine the young man with new interest.

"Were you injured?" he asked.

"My right ankle was sprained and I had a cut under my left eye--you can see the scar still."

"You have no idea how you came there?"

"Not the slightest. I did not recognize the surrounding country; I had no clear impression as to who I was. There was a farmhouse a quarter of a mile away; I limped to it and they gave me some breakfast. I found I was fifty-six miles from New York. The farmer had heard of no accident; there was no railway nearer than six miles; the highway was little used. I told the good people my story and they suspected me of being drunk or crazy, but did not credit a single word I said."

"That was but natural," said Uncle John.

"After breakfast I took stock of myself. In my pockets I found a twenty-dollar bill and some silver. I wore a watch and chain and a ring set with a good-sized diamond. My clothing seemed good, but the ditch had soiled it. I had no hat, nor could the farmer find one when I sent him back to look for it. My mind was not wholly a blank; I seemed to have a fair knowledge of life, and when the farmer mentioned New York the city seemed familiar to me. But in regard to myself, my past history--even my name--I was totally ignorant. All personal consciousness dated from the moment I woke up in the ditch."

"How wonderful!" exclaimed Louise.

"And you haven't solved the mystery yet, after two years?" asked Patsy.

"No, Miss Doyle. I hired the farmer to drive me to the railway station, where I took the train to New York. I seemed to know the city, but no recollection guided me to home or friends. I went to a small hotel, took a room, and began to read all the newspapers, seeking to discover if anyone was reported missing. The sight of automobiles led me to conceive the theory that I had been riding in one of those machines along a country road when something threw me out. My head might have struck a stump or stone and the blow rendered me insensible. Something in the nature of the thing, or in my physical condition, deprived me of all knowledge of the past. Since then I have read of several similar cases. The curious thing about my own experience was that I could find no reference to my disappearance, in any way, nor could I learn of any automobile accident that might account for it. I walked the streets day after day, hoping some acquaintance would accost me. I waited patiently for some impulse to direct me to my former haunts. I searched the newspapers persistently for a clue; but nothing rewarded me.

"After spending all my money and the proceeds of my watch and diamond, I began to seek employment; but no one would employ a man without recommendations or antecedents. I did not know what work I was capable of doing. So finally I left the city and for more than two years I have been wandering from one part of the country to another, hoping that some day I would recognize a familiar spot. I have done odd jobs, at times, but my fortunes went from bad to worse until of late I have become no better than the typical tramp."

"How did you secure employment as a book-keeper for Skeelty?" asked Uncle John.

"I heard a new mill had started at Royal and walked up there to inquire for work. The manager asked if I could keep books, and I said yes."

"Have you ever kept books before?"

"Not that I know of; but I did it very well. I seemed to comprehend the work at once, and needed no instruction. Often during these two years I have encountered similar curious conditions. I sold goods in a store and seemed to know the stocks; I worked two weeks in a telegraph office and discovered I knew the code perfectly; I've shod horses for a country blacksmith, wired a house for electric lights and compounded prescriptions in a drug store. Whatever I have undertaken to do I seem able to accomplish, and so it is hard for me to guess what profession I followed before my memory deserted me."

"You did not retain any position for long, it seems," remarked Uncle John.

"No; I was always impatient to move on, always hoping to arrive at some place so familiar that my lost memory would return to me. The work I have mentioned was nearly all secured during the first year. After I became seedy and disreputable in appearance people were more apt to suspect me and work was harder to obtain."

"Why did you come to Millville?" asked Louise.

"You brought me here," he answered, with a smile. "I caught a ride on your private car, when it left New York, not caring much where it might take me. When I woke up the next morning the car was sidetracked at Chazy Junction, and as this is a section I have never before explored I decided to stay here for a time. That is all of my story, I believe."

"Quite remarkable!" declared Mr. Merrick, emphatically. The girls, too, had been intensely interested in the strange recital.

"You seem educated," said Patsy thoughtfully; "therefore you must have come from a good family."

"That does not seem conclusive," replied Thursday Smith, deprecatingly, "although I naturally hope my family was respectable. I have been inclined to resent the fact that none of my friends or relatives has ever inquired what became of me."

"Are you sure they have not?"

"I have watched the papers carefully. In two years I have followed several clues. A bricklayer disappeared, but his drowned body was finally found; a college professor was missing, but he was sixty years of age; a young man in New York embezzled a large sum and hid himself. I followed that trail, although regretfully, but the real embezzler was caught the day I presented myself in his place. Perhaps the most curious experience was in the case of a young husband who deserted his wife and infant child. She advertised for him; he had disappeared about the time I had found myself; so I went to see her."

"What was the result?" asked Beth.

"She said I was not her husband, but if he failed to come back I might take his place, provided I would guarantee to support her."

During the laugh that followed, Thursday Smith went back to his work and an animated discussion concerning his strange story followed.