THE SHADOW.

Mrs. Banford, to whom the letter which Mr. McGusher had opened was addressed, had been Captain Bilder’s housekeeper many years before. This letter had come after her departure; and as her address was not known, her employer could not send it to her. As the captain had told his daughter, he had heard nothing from her since she left.

Mr. McGusher was careful to see that the door of his room was securely fastened before he opened the letter. Of course he was fully aware that his proceedings were not at all regular. It is hardly probable that he would have taken the trouble to open the letter, if he had not expected to find money in it, for the want of it at that time was the sore need of his existence. He looked at one of the bills, then at the other, and finally at both together. He never had so much money in his hand at one time before. They were large bills; in fact, too large to suit his purpose, for they were not available for use in their present form, and he hardly dared to ask any person in the city to change one of them, lest it should subject him to suspicion.

He read the letter in which the money was enclosed; but he did not seem to be much interested in it. It contained but a few lines, and no signature was attached to it. If he knew anything about the valuable epistle, he certainly did not obtain his knowledge from the letter itself. He transferred the money to his wallet, and returned the letter to the envelope. He stuck down the flap again, and placed it where he had found it, in the looking-glass.

Mr. McGusher was a rich young man now. His conscience did not appear to smite him for what he had done; and perhaps the only thing that worried him was the difficulty of changing the large bill. He had a certain amount of low cunning, which rendered him extremely cautious; and before he went to bed he had decided to take the steamer the next morning for Bangor, where he could change the bills into a more available currency, without being suspected.

Mr. McGusher felt very rich. He could “cut as wide a swath” _now_ as any of the young fellows on the Ocean-Born or the yachts. The thousand dollars in his pocket filled his head with visions of fast horses, elegant suppers, and a good time, while the money lasted. By the time it was gone, his “long-lost father” would be ready to take him to his arms, and allow him three thousand dollars a year or so for his personal expenses. This was what the young man thought, from which it will be inferred that he did not “take any stock” in the poverty of Captain Bilder. He suspected that the ship-master was a shrewd man, who pleaded poverty to save himself from imposition. Mr. McGusher went to bed, when he had decided what to do, and possibly he went to sleep, after a while, though his suddenly-acquired riches rather disturbed the equilibrium of his little brain.

Before ten o’clock Ben Lunder bade Kate adieu, and returned to the Ocean-Born. I am not quite sure that Ben slept before the small hours of the morning, for Miss Bilder was a very pretty girl, and a vision of her sweet face haunted his brain. He thought it all over as he lay in his bunk in the forecastle of the steamer; and he rather flattered himself that she had been pleased with him, that she had been more partial to his society than to that of others. He had heard of her father’s financial disaster, but he did not care a straw for that. He liked Kate, and he did not ask whether she was rich or poor.

If Miss Kate was similarly affected, she had no time to indulge in a vision of the young collegian, the “old salt,” for her father began to talk to her as soon as Ben had gone; and the conversation was so interesting and important that they staid up till after midnight.

“This McGusher is a ridiculous spooney,” said Captain Bilder, when he was alone with Kate. “I have been ashamed of him all the afternoon.”

“Why did you ask him to come to the house, father?” added Kate, rather reproachfully. “He has been hanging about me like a leech, and I hate the sight of him. I tried to treat him decently till he made such a fool of himself. Are we to have him in the house for a week or two?”

“I hope not, though we may not stay in the house ourselves many days longer,” replied the ship-master, rather sadly.

“I should almost be willing to leave it, if I could get rid of Mr. McGusher. You don’t think he is--he is--my brother--do you, father?” asked Kate, with something like a shudder, for certainly it was better to have no brother than such a one as the long-lost.

But she did think it would be “so nice” to have such a brother as Mr. Lunder, so noble, so funny, and so handsome!

“I don’t think he is your brother, Kate. If there is anything in parental instinct, I am very sure he is not my son,” answered the captain, with a faint smile. “Your brother’s eyes were blue, and this fellow’s are gray. His nose is entirely different from my little boy’s, that is, in shape. Little Oscar’s nose was Grecian, like yours and mine, while this puppy’s is a pug nose. No, Kate, I know he is not my son.”

“Then why do you encourage him, father, by taking him into your house, and allowing him to go into society with us?”

“I will tell you, Kate. I do it because I want to ascertain his connection with other parties. I wish to investigate this card business. The part which came to me ten years ago exactly corresponds with the part brought by this young cub. It seems to me that if any one intended to impose upon me ten years ago, as the first letter and piece of card led me to suppose, he would hardly have waited so long for the fruits of the enterprise. I have thought of it all the afternoon; but I can make nothing of it. If this young fellow had blue eyes and a Grecian nose, and had not been such an utter simpleton, I should certainly have believed he was my son. Of course the two parts of the card came from the same person, though the tone, style, and writing of the two letters are entirely different. I have written to Borden Green & Co., to ask if they have the third piece, and for any information they can give me in regard to the matter.”

“Did you tell him to inquire about the Chessman family in Goshen?” asked Kate.

“I did not; for Borden Green has no country place in Goshen.”

“Didn’t you say he had?”

“No, not exactly. I only suggested the idea, to see what effect it would have on the idiot; and I am satisfied there is no such family as the Chessmans. I think the little villain made up his story as he went along, or that somebody else made it up beforehand, and he committed it to memory.”

“Perhaps Mr. McGusher is honest, after all, father. Somebody may have sent the letter to him at his place of business, with the card in it,” suggested the daughter.

“Hardly, Kate,” replied Captain Bilder, shaking his head. “If he had told me a straight story in regard to himself, I might have believed it; but there was an evident intention, manifested in all his answers, to cover up his past history. But it is a very easy matter to trace out the other parties in this trick; for I am satisfied it is a trick, and that there are other parties interested in it. If they had known that I lost my property, they would not have taken all this trouble. They think I am still wealthy, and that this young cub will get a part of my estate. It is a flimsy scheme, and any sensible person would have seen that it could not succeed.”

“But what are you going to do father?”

“I am not in condition now to do much of anything,” replied Captain Bilder, sadly. “If I were as well off as I was a year ago, I should employ a ‘shadow’--”

“A what?”

“A shadow--a private detective. They call them shadows in New York. A man to dog McGusher till he discovered his associates and learned his history. But I can’t afford to pay five dollars a day for a detective now; and I must do it myself, or get some friend to do it for me. I was thinking of this young Mr. Lunder.”

“He would be glad to do it, father,” added Kate. “But then he is not going back for several weeks yet.”

“I must go to New York after I have arranged my affairs here, and I will attend to it myself. I have the big card he sent in to me, so that I can easily find him.”

It was after midnight when this conversation ceased; but even at this late hour, Captain Neil Brandon had not yet “turned in.” In his capacious state-room there was a desk at which he sat writing, when the clocks on the churches of the city chimed twelve. Half an hour later, he had finished the long letter to his mother, and began to read it over, making the necessary corrections with his pen as he did so. Though there was nothing that will be strange or startling to the reader in this letter, we feel obliged to quote a portion of it.

“MY DEAR MOTHER: I mailed a short letter to you this morning, announcing our safe arrival at Belfast. I wrote that we had rescued a party in a dismasted yacht, out of sight of land, on the ocean; but I had not time to give you the particulars of the affair, for I was very busy with our guests on board.” (Then followed a full account of the discovery of the Sea Foam, and of the subsequent events of the voyage up the Penobscot Bay.) “One of the young ladies on board of her was Miss Kate Bilder, a beautiful girl of sixteen. Ben was delighted with her, and I think he is a little sweet on her. She is the only daughter of a retired ship-master, who has lost all his property by ‘being too honest,’ some people say. But of course I don’t believe that was the reason, for an honest beggar is better than a wealthy rogue.” (Then came a description of the rest of the rescued party.)

“In the morning Captain Bilder, Kate’s father, came on board, with some other people. He seemed to be absent-minded; but this was explained by the misfortune which had just overtaken him. He seemed to be startled when my name was given to him; and I thought he expressed more surprise at the name of the steamer than the occasion seemed to justify. He asked me about my father and mother. When I told him my father was a sailor, and that I was born at sea, he appeared to think it was very strange, though he did not say why he thought so. I was rather curious to know why he was so astonished, and I shall ask him or Kate about it when I have an opportunity.

“To-day we had a splendid excursion to a place called Turtle Head, less than an hour’s run from Belfast.” (Here were inserted a full history and description of the Dorcas Club.) “Captain Bilder and Kate were both with us, and a spooney from New York city, by the name of Arthur McGusher, a regular swell; and Ben picks upon him awfully. Captain Bilder did not say anything to me about my father or the Ocean-Born; but he asked Gerald Roach about my parents and my history. I was so busy looking after the party we had on board, that I had no opportunity to ask him any questions; but I shall probably have a chance to do so to-morrow.

“We have planned a grand excursion up the Penobscot to Bangor, with the Dorcas Club and the Yacht Club. We shall start in a day or two. In the mean time we are doing splendidly. The houses of all the good people of Belfast are open to us, and we have no end of invitations to dinner, to tea, to pass the evening; and they even propose to get up a ball in honor of the officers of the Ocean-Born. Think of that, mother! We are something, down here! The people can’t do enough for us, and we can’t accept a tenth part of the invitations we receive. Ben is as funny as ever, and immensely popular with everybody except Mr. McGusher.” (An account of the trial in the fore-cabin of the steamer came next.)

“Now, my dear mother, you see what a good thing we made of it by coming to Belfast. I don’t think I ever met people I liked so well. As you know, I didn’t think of coming to this city, and for some reason or other I thought you did not wish me to do so. But I am glad we did come this way, instead of going up the other side of the bay, and stopping at Castine. We may go there on our way down. I shouldn’t have come to Belfast if it hadn’t been for towing the Sea Foam here. As the party on board of her were in distress, you see, I could not decently do anything different, especially as it did not make much difference to us where we went to. It is after midnight, dear mother; so good night.

“Your affectionate son, “NEIL BRANDON.”

The young commander put this long epistle into an envelope, directed it, and it was heavy enough to require an extra stamp. Leaving the missive on the desk, to be mailed in the morning, he indulged in a long gape, then turned in, and went to sleep, in which condition we are content to leave him till Mr. Peter Blossom rings the first bell in the morning.

Whether Mr. Arthur McGusher slept well or not, he was up at five o’clock in the morning. So was Captain Bilder, from which it may be inferred that his slumbers were disturbed by the memory of his financial misfortunes.

“You are up early, Mr. McGusher,” said the captain, as they met in the hall.

“Yes, saw; I am an awly wiser,” replied the long-lost.

“I see you have your bag in your hand: are you going away?” asked the ship-master, thinking it possible that his unwelcome guest might have become disgusted with the events of the preceding day, and intended to retire from the field.

“Yes, saw, I’m going up to a place called Bangaw, to do a little business for our house; in shawt, as a dwummaw, saw, though I did not come heaw as a dwummaw,” answered Mr. McGusher.

“Do you return to Belfast?”

“Pawsibly, Captain Bildaw. I have delivered the cawd, or, wather, the piece of a cawd, and you have another piece. I don’t know that you wish to see me again. You don’t seem to wecognize me as your long-lost son, though I bwing the vewy best of pwoof that I am your long-lost son.”

“I wish to investigate the matter a little, before I decide finally.”

“To be suaw, as much as you please. I will wetawn in a day or two, to lawn yaw final decision.”

Mr. McGusher left the house, and walked down to the steamboat wharf. Captain Bilder did not like to lose sight of him. He desired to know if the young man wrote any letters, and if he did, to whom they were addressed. The long-lost had declared that he had not money enough to pay his expenses during his proposed stay in Belfast; and it seemed very strange that he should make a trip to Bangor, especially if it was true that he was on his vacation, as he alleged he was. Possibly his confederates in the scheme were in Bangor. Still thinking of the matter, he left the house and walked down to the wharf. Waiting there to take a passage in the steamer, he discovered a young man who was under great obligations to him for certain favors extended to him in better days, and who fully recognized his debt of gratitude.

“Good morning, Captain Bilder,” said Monroe, as they met. “Are you going up to Bangor?”

“No; but I wish I could, for I have important business.”

“Can I do anything for you, captain? If I can, I shall be very glad to do it, as you know. I am going off on a little vacation, and it does not make much difference to me where I go.”

“Thank you, Monroe. You can render me a great service,” replied Captain Bilder, earnestly.

“Then I hope you will let me render it. I thought I should stay a day or two in Bangor; and nothing would afford me more pleasure than to spend it in your service.”

“Thank you. I haven’t time to explain the nature of the business to you, for the steamer is just coming in; but I can tell you exactly what to do, and will show you what it all means at another time.”

“I don’t desire to know any more than is necessary to enable me to do the business you require of me,” replied Monroe.

“I can do that. Do you see the young man in light clothes, with his hat badly jammed, and with a bag in his hand, standing by the capsill of the wharf?”

“I see him: he is a regular swell; and I have seen him before,” laughed Monroe.

“I want to know all he does, and whom he meets, in Bangor. If he writes any letters, I particularly wish to know to whom he addresses them. I want the address in full.”

“I will do the best I can,” answered the volunteer shadow; “and I think I can accomplish all you desire.”

“Don’t let him see you speaking to me; if he does he will be suspicious, perhaps. Let me have your information by mail as fast as you obtain it.”

“I will not fail to do so,” said Monroe, as they separated.

The steamer had already made fast to the wharf, and the passengers in waiting went on board of her. The “shadow” overtook Mr. McGusher, and followed him to the saloon. The latter, with a very magnificent air, gave his bag to a waiter, and then went to the breakfast table, where the meal was in process. Monroe kept close to him, and took the next seat at the table.

“May I twouble you for the buttaw?” said Mr. McGusher, as the meal proceeded.

“Certainly, sir; with pleasure,” replied Monroe, with an exuberance of politeness which won the heart of the swell.

“It is a beautiful day for a trip up the river,” the shadow ventured, a little farther along, to say.

“Vewy beautiful; and it’s a fine wivaw, I’m told,” answered Mr. McGusher, very graciously for a young man with two five-hundred dollar bills in his pocket.

“Not so fine as the Hudson, or even the Kennebec; but it’s a very pleasant sail up to Bangor. You seem to be a stranger in these parts.”

“I am a stwangaw. Do you weside in Bangaw?”

“No sir; in Belfast. I am the book-keeper of a bank there; and I’m off just now on a little vacation.”

“Just my case: I’m on a vacation. I’m a stwangaw in Bangaw. Can you tell me which is the best hotel thaw?”

“The Bangor House is as good as anything east of Portland.”

“Then I shall go thaw. One must have a good hotel, you know, or thaw is no fun in a vacation.”

“Quite right, Mr.--Mr.--”

“Mr. Arthur McGushaw, with the house of Hewlins & Heavybones, New Yawk city, at your sawvice,” replied the long-lost, producing one of his big pasteboards, as if to verify his statement. “And I have the honaw to addwess Mr.--”

“John Monroe.”

“Thanks, Mr. Monwoe. Now we know each othaw pawfectly.”

Mr. McGusher was very much pleased with his new acquaintance; and before the steamer arrived at Bangor, they had cemented what appeared to be an everlasting friendship. Monroe made himself exceedingly agreeable; and, fully understanding the man with whom he had to deal, he judiciously flattered him, and not only permitted, but encouraged him to believe that he was the most important personage who had visited the State of Maine for a long time. Indeed, they were so much in love with each other, that they took a large room together at the hotel.

“I have come down heaw to have a good time, and I’m going to have it,” said Mr. McGusher, when they had taken possession of the handsome and pleasant apartment.

“Right, McGusher! That’s just my case,” replied Monroe.

“I have plenty of time and plenty of money, added the swell.

“Unfortunately, I have more time than money. I can’t afford a very extravagant bat.”

“Nevaw mind, my boy. I’m glad I met you, and I have money enough for both of us.”

Ordinarily, Monroe, who was really a high-toned fellow, would have objected to such an arrangement; but in the present instance he did not.

“Monwoe, my deaw fellaw. I’m in a little twouble, just now,” said Mr. McGusher, as they were about to leave the room. “When I left New Yawk, I dwew five hundwed dollaws from the bank wheaw I had deposited my hawd awnings. They paid me in one bill. Having a five-hundwed dollaw bill is almost as bad as having no money at all.”

“Not at all: you can change it at any bank,” replied Monroe. “I know the bank people here, and I will get it done for you.” And he did get it done; but he asked the teller to mark the bill, and hold it as long as he could.

In the afternoon, the long-lost wrote a couple of letters, one of which he enclosed in the other. He directed it to “Mrs. Mary McGusher, Goshen, Orange Co., N. Y.” It was mailed in the office of the hotel, but the address was promptly noted in the memorandum-book of the watchful Monroe.

By dinner time the next day Captain Bilder knew that his “long-lost son” had changed a five-hundred dollar bill at Bangor, and written a letter, enclosed in another, directed to “Mrs. Mary McGusher, of Goshen, N. Y.”