True to Himself; Or, Roger Strong's Struggle for Place Part 31

"You--you--Who says he made such an admission?"

"I say so."

"Ah! I see, you were spying on us. You rascal!"

"It strikes me that you are the rascal," I returned. "You try deliberately to shield a thief."

"What!"

"Yes, it's true."

"Can you prove it?"

Mr. Woodward asked the question sneeringly, but there was much of curiosity in his tones.

"Perhaps I can."

The merchant pulled his mustache nervously.

"Strong, you are greatly mistaken. But don't let us quarrel any more."

"I don't want to quarrel."

"I feel badly over the whole affair, and Mr. Stumpy is fairly sick. I suppose you think you are right, but you are mistaken. Now I have a proposition to make to you." Mr. Woodward leaned forward in his chair.

"Suppose you admit that you are mistaken--that Mr. Stumpy is not the man? Do this, and I will not prosecute you for having taken my papers."

I was surprised and indignant; surprised that Mr. Woodward should still insist upon my having taken his papers, and indignant because of his outrageous offer.

"Mr. Woodward," I began firmly, "you can prosecute me or not; Stumpy is the guilty man, and I shall always stick to it."

"Then you will go to jail, too."

"For the last time let me say I have not seen your papers."

"It is false. You took them from this room last night. At the very time you pretend you were after the robber at Mrs. Canby's house you were here ransacking my desk."

"Mr. Woodward--"

"There is no use in denying it. I have abundant proofs. The girl who cleaned up here this morning found a handkerchief with your name on it lying on the floor. If you weren't here, how did that come here?"

"My handkerchief?"

"Yes, sir, your handkerchief; and Mary O'Brien can identify it and tell where she found it."

"Some one else must have had it," I stammered, and then suddenly: "I know who the party is--Duncan."

"Duncan!"

"Yes, sir. He took that handkerchief away from me when the Models waylaid me!"

"My son! Really, Strong, you are mad! But I will take you in hand, sir; yes, indeed, I will."

"No, you won't, Aaron Woodward!" I cried, for once letting my temper get the better of me. "You are awfully cunning, but I am not afraid of you. I am willing to have all these matters sifted to the bottom, and the sooner the better. What papers have you missed? Were they the ones that Holtzmann of Chicago is after? How is it that my father is in prison while you live in style on money you never earned? Who is the relative that left it to you? Did you ever make a clear statement concerning the transactions that took away my father's honest name?"

"Stop! Stop!"

"I will not stop! You want an investigation; so do I. Luckily my uncle, Captain Enos Moss, has just returned from a voyage. He has quite some money, and I know he will use it to bring the guilty parties to justice. And then--"

I did not finish. Mr. Woodward had strode over to the door and locked it, putting the key in his pocket.

"You know too much, Strong," he muttered between his set teeth, as he caught me by the collar; "too much entirely. We must come to a settlement before you leave this room."

CHAPTER XIX

A CLEVER RUSE

I must confess I was frightened when Mr. Woodward locked the door of his library and caught me by the collar. Was it possible that he contemplated doing me physical harm? It looked that way.

I was not accustomed to such rough treatment, and I resented it instantly. I was not very large for my age, but I was strong, and ducking my head I wrenched myself free from his grasp and sprang to the other side of the small table that stood in the centre of the room.

"What do you mean by treating me in this manner!" I cried. "Unlock that door at once!"

"Not much, sir," replied Mr. Woodward, vehemently. "You've made some remarkable statements, young man, and I demand a clear explanation before you leave."

"Well, you demand too much, Aaron Woodward," I replied firmly. "Unlock that door."

"Not just yet. I want to know what you know of Holtzmann of Chicago?"

"You won't learn by treating me in this manner," was my determined reply. "Unlock that door, or, take my word for it, I'll arouse the whole neighborhood."

"You'll do nothing of the kind, young man," he rejoined.

"I will."

"Make the least disturbance and you shall pay dearly for it.

Understand, sir, I'm not to be trifled with."

"And I'm not to be frightened into submission," I returned with spirit. "I have a right to leave when I please and I shall do so."

"Not till I am ready," said he, coolly.

I was nonplussed and alarmed--nonplussed over the question of how to get away, and alarmed at the thought of what might happen if I was compelled to remain.

I began to understand Mr. Aaron Woodward's true character. Like Duncan, he was not only a bully, but also a brute. Words having failed, he was now evidently going to see what physical force could accomplish.