Haste and Waste; Or, the Young Pilot of Lake Champlain Part 10

Mrs. Wilford and Lawry wept as though their hearts would break, while the ferryman, trembling with apprehension, paced the kitchen.

"What are you crying for?" said he impatiently.

"Oh, John!" sobbed his wife.

"Nothing has been proved."

"Yes, there has. You told me you had given the money to Mr. Randall."

"You told me you would restore it to the owner, when I gave you the pocketbook," added Lawry.

"Lawry, if you say a word about it, you shall go to jail with me,"

said Mr. Wilford angrily.

CHAPTER VII

"THE FERRYMAN'S CRIME"

Mr. Wilford, in spite of his faults and peculiarities, was a kind father, and never before had been heard to utter such terrible words as those which had just pa.s.sed his lips. It was a consolation to Lawry and his mother to believe that the words were only a threat which was never intended to be executed, and only made to awe the youth into silence. It was needless; for, right or wrong, the son would have died rather than betray his father.

John Wilford's operations in hiding the money were as transparent as his efforts to quiet the suspicions of his family. The constable followed his tracks in the soft ground of the corn-field till he came to a stump in one corner of the lot. It was decayed and hollow, and in one of the cavities the pocketbook was discovered. Mr. Randall laughed for joy when it was handed up to him. Its contents were undisturbed, and not a dollar of the money was missing. The party walked back to the house, having been absent less than half an hour.

The ferryman was just coming out as they entered the gate.

"I hope you are satisfied," said he, confident that the officers would never think of crossing the corn-field in search of the lost treasure.

"I'm satisfied, Mr. Wilford," said the sheriff.

"Don't you think it is a mean thing to come here and accuse me of robbing one of my pa.s.sengers?" continued the ferryman.

"I don't think so."

"In my opinion, Mr. Randall hasn't lost any money. I don't believe a man would throw his coat down anywhere if there was six thousand dollars in the pocket."

"But the money was lost, whether you believe it or not," interposed the bank director, irritated by this charge.

"I've heard of such a thing as men losing money to cheat their creditors, or something of that sort," added the ferryman.

"Don't talk so, husband," said Mrs. Wilford, who, with Lawry, had come out of the house when they heard the voice of the sheriff, anxious to learn the result of the search.

"Don't you think that's mean, to accuse a man of cheating his creditors, after you have stolen his money?" retorted Mr. Randall.

"What right have you to say I stole your money?" demanded Mr.

Wilford, with a show of intense indignation.

"Because you did."

"Can you prove it?"

"I think I can."

"No, you can't. I don't believe you lost any money. It's only a trick to cheat the bank or your creditors."

"We shall see."

"Don't talk so, husband," repeated Mrs. Wilford.

"Keep still, wife. When a man hasn't done anything, it's hard to be charged with stealing six thousand dollars. They can't prove anything."

"Yes, we can, Mr. Wilford," interposed the sheriff. "It becomes my duty to arrest you, though I would rather have done it when your family were not present."

"Arrest me! What for?" exclaimed John Wilford. "You can't prove anything."

"Yes, we can," replied the sheriff.

"What can you prove?"

"I think it would be better for you not to talk so much," added the sheriff, in a low tone. "Come with me, and I will do my duty as quietly as possible."

"Come with you! What for?" said Mr. Wilford, in a loud tone. "I didn't steal the money."

"It's a plain case. It's no use for you to deny it any longer."

"But I didn't."

"We have found the money, just where you put it."

"Found--what!" stammered the guilty man.

"Oh, husband!" groaned Mrs. Wilford.

"Oh, father!" sobbed Lawry.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Wilford," said the kind-hearted officer; "but it's all as plain as daylight. He took the money and hid it in a stump in the corn-field, where we found it."

"What shall we do?" cried Mrs. Wilford.

"It's a bad business, marm, but I can't help it. I must do my duty."

Mr. Wilford leaned on the garden-fence, with his gaze fixed upon the ground. He could not look the loved ones in the face, after the crime he had committed. The smaller children, who had been at play around the house, were now gathered about the group, unable fully to comprehend the terrible misfortune which had befallen them; though, as they gazed on Lawry and their mother, they could not help realizing that something very sad had happened.

"I'm ready to go with you," said John Wilford to the sheriff, for the scene was too affecting and humiliating.

"Oh, husband, why did you do it?" exclaimed Mrs. Wilford, as she grasped one of his arms, clinging to him like a true woman, in spite of his shame and infamy.