TWO IMPORTANT LETTERS.
“I don’t like to leave you all alone, father,” said Kate Bilder, on the day the cruise of the clubs up the Penobscot was to be commenced.
“I shall be so busy for the next few days, that you will not see much of me, and I think you had better go with your friends,” replied her father, who wished her to go, and was unwilling to have her sacrifice the pleasure of the excursion, when she could not assist him by doing so.
So it was decided that she should take her place as leader of the Lily. As some of the girls were poor, it had been decided that the expenses should be paid from the club treasury, in which there was a surplus, after paying for the last boat they needed.
It was Tuesday morning, several days after Mr. McGusher had started for Bangor. Monroe wrote every day in regard to the swell’s movements, but no further information of any value was obtained. The young exquisite was spending his money with as much haste as the circumstances would permit. He drove fast horses, and ate and drank the best the hotel afforded.
When the mail came that day, it brought several important letters, two of which deserve a notice before we start with the clubs. One was addressed to Captain Bilder, and was postmarked at Goshen, N. Y.
“Whom is that from, father?” asked Kate, as she handed him the letter.
“I’m sure I don’t know. I’m not aware that I know any person in Goshen. That’s where McGusher said he used to live,” replied the ship-master, as he opened the letter.
“Perhaps it is from some friend of Mr. McGusher,” added Kate, deeply interested.
“Very likely it is,” continued Captain Bilder, as he read the letter, and a smile played upon his face.
“What is it, father?”
“I will read it to you. It is really very funny under the circumstances.”
“CAPTAIN R. BILDER. My dear Sir: In reply to your letter, addressed to Borden Green, Esq.,--who has requested me to give you the information for which you seek,--I would say, that Mr. Arthur McGusher is well known in Goshen as a very respectable and highly intelligent young man. He was brought up in the family of Mr. Amos P. Chessman, who died nearly three years ago, with hydrophobia, having been bitten by a mad dog, and suffered terribly before he gave up the ghost. Before his death, however, Mr. Arthur McGusher--who exhibited very great commercial abilities, was well educated, and of elegant manners--was placed in the large mercantile house of Hewlins & Heavybones, 4928 Broadway, New York. I have made some inquiries in that part of the town where Mr. Chessman lived,--for his farm was not in the village of Goshen. I found several persons who knew the family well. They all said Mr. Chessman had taken Mr. McGusher from an orphan asylum in New York city, when he was six or seven years old. They had no means of knowing how the child happened to be in the asylum, but it was there, and Mrs. Chessman thought it was too pretty to stay there.
“I have answered your letter at the earliest moment possible after I had made the necessary inquiries.
“Yours truly, for Borden Green, “T. K. BUNKER.” “GOSHEN, July 28, 187-.”
“There, Kate, what do you think of that?” laughed Captain Bilder, when he had finished the reading of the letter.
“I don’t understand it, father,” she replied.
“Well, I think it is not difficult to understand.”
“You told me you should write no letter of this kind to Borden Green.”
“And I did not.”
“Then who is T. K. Bunker?”
“He is a myth, like Amos P. Chessman and his family.”
“Where did that letter come from?”
“It was sent from Bangor to Goshen, to be re-mailed there.”
“That is very strange.”
“Not at all. Mr. McGusher wrote this letter himself.”
“Why, father!”
“It is a very plain case. I understand it perfectly; quite as well as I should if Mr. McGusher had confessed to me exactly how he did it--the simpleton! He does not know enough to cover his own tracks.”
“But father, that letter may be genuine.”
“Impossible, Kate! Do you remember how it began--‘In reply to your letter addressed to Borden Green.’ I haven’t written any letter to Borden Green on this subject; only to the firm in New York, inquiring about the third piece of the card. Mr. McGusher was doubtless satisfied that I had written such a letter to my former banker at Goshen, and has prepared his reply to it. He has overreached himself. If I had really written such a letter, he might have known that Borden Green would also answer it, and thus assure me that this letter is a fraud; at least, I suppose so, though he may have had some means of preventing such an exposure.”
“I didn’t think Mr. McGusher was smart enough to play such a trick,” added Kate.
“It is anything but smart; on the contrary, I think it is rather stupid. He set a trap which he was sure to fall into, in any event. If I wrote no letter, he betrays himself to me; if I did write one, Borden Green will betray him to me. It is about as broad as it is long. But I haven’t given you all the information I have obtained, Kate.”
“I thought you had told me everything, father.”
“I did tell you everything up to the departure of Mr. McGusher for Bangor,” added Captain Bilder, taking several of Monroe’s letters from his pocket. “You have been away with the boat club so much for several days, or some of the officers of the Ocean-Born have been here when you were at home, that I have not had a chance to talk with you. I like to see you enjoy yourself, Kate, while you may, so I did not say anything to you.”
“What did Mr. McGusher go to Bangor for?” asked Kate, curiously.
“That was the very question which excited my curiosity and interest,” replied Captain Bilder. “He told me he had not money enough to pay his expenses a single week in Belfast, and his fare back to New York. In other words, he asked me for money, which I refused to give or lend him. I thought it was very strange that he should wish to go to Bangor, and that, if his firm sent him there on business, as he says, he was not supplied with money for this purpose. I came to the conclusion that he had a confederate in Bangor, though I am inclined to think now that I was mistaken. A friend of mine consented to act as a shadow for me, as he was going to Bangor, and these letters contain the result of his investigations. Only two facts in them are of any particular consequence. One is, that he mailed a letter to Mrs. Mary McGusher in Goshen; and this letter enclosed another.”
“The one which has just come to you from Goshen?” added Kate, her bright eyes lighted up with intelligence.
“Undoubtedly; and I have no doubt it reached Goshen in thirty hours after it was mailed, and then started for Belfast by the next mail.”
“It all looks very plain.”
“Nothing could be more so.”
“But who is Mrs. Mary McGusher?”
“I don’t know; perhaps his mother. But I think we have got hold of something now. This Mrs. McGusher in Goshen is probably his confederate, and will be able to tell me something about the card in three pieces, and the letter I received ten years ago. Probably she wrote the letter which the simpleton brought to me. Monroe gives me another piece of information which is interesting, though it may have no bearing on this question. Mr. McGusher had a five-hundred dollar bill when he arrived at Bangor.”
“Where did he get so much money?” asked Kate, breathless with astonishment.
“That is what perplexes me. Monroe is sure he did not obtain it in Bangor, and he must have had it when he was in Belfast.”
“But he told you he had no money, or only a little.”
“He does not appear to scruple at telling a lie.”
“Where could he have obtained so much money?”
“I am sure I don’t know. A young fellow like him, working in a store, don’t often have five hundred dollars; and not many rich men are so liberal as to pass out so large a sum to their sons at one time. That fellow needs watching, and I am sorry I am not able just now to keep an eye on him.”
The door bell rang at this moment, and the servant admitted some one. It is said that a certain spirit of evil is always near when one is speaking of him. Though this may not be strictly a fact, it seems to be true that he is sometimes at hand under the conditions named. At any rate, Mr. Arthur McGusher was announced, and presently entered the sitting-room, adjoining the library.
“Good mawning, Captain Bildaw,” said he, flippantly, as the ship-master entered the room, followed by Kate.
He bowed very low, and displayed the most extraordinary politeness to the young lady, who was ingenuous enough to treat him as coolly as her gentle nature would permit.
“Good morning, Mr. McGusher. I hope you are quite well,” replied the captain.
“Nevaw bettaw.”
“When did you return?”
“I wetawned on the boat, yestawday aftawnoon,” answered the swell, assuming a rather lofty air towards his “long-lost father.”
“You conclude, then, not to occupy a room in my house?”
“Yes, saw; such was my conclusion. I was not quite sure that I was welcome in this house, and I took a room at the best hotel. A gentleman of fine feelings don’t like to intwude whaw he is not wanted, you see,” added Mr. McGusher, with a supercilious toss of his head.
“I see; but the room was at your service.”
“I was hawdly tweated with the cawjality which a long-lost son might weasonably expect,” continued the swell, toying with his incipient mustache. “I thought I had a wight to expect genawous tweatment undaw the sawcumstances. I bwought abundant pwoof that I was your long-lost son.”
“Well, Mr. McGusher, I desired to investigate the matter before I gave a final answer to a question of so much importance; but I am happy to say now that I have the means of doing so without troubling you to remain any longer in this city.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed the long-lost, as though this remark was a surprise to him; but he concluded that the ‘means’ alluded to was the letter he had received from Goshen.
“As you observed to me that your funds were rather short, I am unwilling to subject you to any further expense; for as I told you before, my circumstances are so changed that I am unable to advance you any money.”
“Quite unnecessary to do so now. I was shawt, but I telgwaphed to my fawm in New Yawk, and have weceived a wemittance. I desiawed to spend the wemaindaw of my vacation in this state.”
“Of course you can do as you please about that. I have only to say that I am a beggar myself, and I can do nothing for you,” added the captain.
“A beggaw! My deaw fawthaw, all that I have is thine!”
“I don’t mean that I am literally a beggar; only that I have lost all my property.”
“My dear fawthaw, though I was shawt the othaw day, I am no longaw so. Would you do me the favaw to accept a gift or a loan of one or two hundred dollaws?” said Mr. McGusher, drawing his wallet. “I can do it just as well as not.”
“No; I am not reduced to that extremity. I cannot accept charity, or borrow what I may not be able to pay.”
“It would afford me vewy gweat pleasyaw.”
“You seem to be quite flush.”
“I have money enough faw pwesent uses, and a little to help my fawthaw.”
“I don’t need any help just now,” added the captain, rather sharply. “You must have had a large remittance. I heard that you changed a five-hundred dollar bill in Bangor.”
Mr. McGusher turned a little pale, and felt he had been imprudent in offering to produce one or two hundred dollars. And how could Captain Bilder know that he had changed a five-hundred dollar bill in Bangor? for Monroe had not yet returned to Belfast. It was no use to deny it, for the cashier of the bank where the bill had been changed might have furnished the information.
“Yes, saw; I had a five-hundwed dollaw bill. I bwought it with me from New Yawk. It was the fwoot of my hawd awnings. I did not mean to use it on this twip. I thought my honawed fawthaw would help me out. As he did not, I had to use it,” explained the long-lost.
“I thought you had a remittance from your firm,” laughed Captain Bilder.
Even Mr. McGusher was willing to acknowledge to himself that he had been remarkably stupid. While he was thinking only how he should account for the five hundred dollar bill, he forgot all about the remittance. It is a fact that liars almost always trip themselves up, though they do not often convict themselves so glaringly as in this instance. It is not safe to lie, to say nothing of the wickedness of doing so.
“The wemittance was for anothaw pawpose, you see,” the swell added.
“I see,” added the captain, shrugging his shoulders; “but it is hardly necessary to continue the conversation.”
Captain Bilder knew nothing about the firm of Hewlins & Heavybones, 4928 Broadway, but he was afraid that “their representative” in Maine had been guilty of peculation upon them. He felt it to be his duty to inform them of the fact that their _employe_ had changed a five-hundred dollar bill in Bangor; and he desired to obtain what information he could in regard to Mr. McGusher.
“Of cawse, I do not wish to continue the convawsation, Captain Bilder, I shall wemain at the hotel, and not twouble you with my pwesence,” replied Mr. McGusher, who doubtless thought this would be a severe deprivation to his long-lost father.
“Certainly; remain there, if you prefer.”
“But I undawstand that the yacht club and the Dawcas club are to make an excawsion up the wivaw,” added the long lost, more briskly. “I should be happy to join them.”
“That is their affair, not mine.”
“But as yaw son pwesumptive, you would favaw me with an intwoduction to some membaws of the yacht club, who would be glad to invite me.”
“You must excuse me, Mr. McGusher. I have no influence with them,” replied the ship-master, very decidedly.
“Aw, Miss Kate!” said the long-lost, approaching her as she stood at the door, “you pwomised to intwoduce me to all the young ladies of the Dawcas club. I desiaw to join this excawsion.”
“I have no authority to invite any one, and I think that the clubs are to have no invited guests,” replied Kate, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “The yachts, are all full; but I think there is room in the steamer--the Ocean-Born.”
“But that howwid Mr. Lunder--I beg your pawdon, if he is a friend of yours,” protested Mr. McGusher.
“He is a friend of mine,” answered Kate, warmly; and her face flushed a little.
“I desiaw to go on the excawsion, but not with Mr. Lundaw.”
“I think there is no chance to go except on the steamer.”
“But I have detawmined to go,” added the long-lost, taking the new white hat he had bought in Bangor, from the table. “I think most of the young ladies, when they know me bettaw, would be delighted to have me go.”
Even Mr. McGusher could not help feeling that he had been snubbed by father and daughter--“his fawthaw and his sistaw;” and he took his leave of Kate.
“I beg your pawdon, Captain Bildaw,” he added, turning to her father; “but have you heard from your friend Bawden Gween, at his country place in Goshen?”
“Not from him, but I have a letter from T. K. Bunker, in Goshen, who informs me that you lived in the Chessman family, and that you were taken from a lunatic asylum.”
“A what?” gasped Mr. McGusher. “A lunatic asylum!”
“I beg your pardon--an orphan asylum.”
“Aw! quite anothaw thing.”
“Quite different, I grant. If the statements of this letter are to be relied upon, your story is entirely true.”
“Of cawse it is; and of cawse you aw satisfied.”
“Not exactly satisfied. I have not yet heard from Borden Green & Co. in regard to the third piece of the card. If you are to remain in Belfast, I shall see you in a few days. I must leave you now.”
Mr. McGusher left the house. He could not see why Captain Bilder and his daughter did not take him to their loving arms, and shriek out, “My long-lost son!” “My long-lost brother!” But they did not, though the evidence ought to be enough to satisfy them. Mr. McGusher wished to bask in the smiles of the five-and-twenty young ladies who formed the Dorcas club. He was quite positive that he should make a sensation among them as soon as they knew him--it could not be otherwise; for he was entirely conscious of his blandishments as a lady-killer. He had seen the girls in these boats, and he envied the fellows who enjoyed their acquaintance. Kate could introduce him, but he was painfully conscious that she was under the influence of that “howwid Lundaw.” The wretch had prejudiced her against him, the “long-lost brother.” He believed that he fully understood Ben’s tactics. Ben realized what a fascinating fellow he--Mr. McGusher--was; and that was the foundation of his prejudice against him. The long-lost knew that all the ladies in New York were fond of him; and why should they not be in Belfast--ladies were the same all the world over. Ben wanted to be the shining light among them himself, and he was afraid that one with the personal and social attractions of A. McGusher would pale his star, outshine him, cast him into an eclipse. With this view of the situation, he was determined not to be kept outside of the charmed circle. He had plenty of money in his pocket, and since he could not go up the river with the party, he would go up like a lord. Monroe had informed him that there was a small steamer in the harbor which was sometimes let for parties at fifty dollars a day, which sum included the services of a pilot, engineer, and cook. His next business was to find and engage this steamer.
So much for the letter which Captain Bilder received, and the events which immediately followed it. Captain Neil Brandon also received an important letter on the morning the clubs were to start for Bangor. It was from his mother; and with the letter in his hand he retired to his state-room to read it. Some extracts from it are necessary to the development of our story.
“I did not wish you to go to Belfast in your steamer, for reasons which I cannot now explain, though I cannot find fault with you for so doing, under the circumstances,” wrote Madam Brandon. “It was your duty to save and to assist those who were in distress, and I know the noble heart of my boy. But I am sorry you went there; at least, I am sorry you did not leave the place as soon as you finished your business there.... You wrote me a great deal about Captain Bilder and his daughter. They are the very persons whose acquaintance I was afraid you would make, if you went to Belfast. For reasons which I cannot explain now, I do not wish you to have anything to do with them. Now, my dear boy, I wish to appeal to you as your mother. You will do what I desire, and without asking any questions. _I want you to have nothing more to do or say to the Bilders._ You must leave Belfast as soon as you get this letter, and at once close your acquaintance with them. Of course I do not expect you to be rude or ungentlemanly towards them; only to keep away from them, and keep them away from yourself. It would worry me into my grave, if I thought you would not heed my wishes in this matter. But my dear boy will do just what I ask of him--I know he will.
“One thing more, dear Neil: you must be sure and not say a word to Captain Bilder or his daughter about what I have written; not a word nor a hint that I have asked you to avoid them. I am very much troubled about this matter. I did not sleep a wink last night after I read your letter, and I am strongly tempted to start at once for Belfast myself, in order to be sure that you heed what I say; and as it is, I may go to Bangor in a day or two, in order to meet you there when you arrive. Now, my dear boy, do not neglect your mother’s solemn request, and when I see you again, I will explain everything.”
“That’s very odd!” exclaimed Neil, when he had finished the letter. “Why is my mother afraid of Captain Bilder and his daughter?”
He read the letter again and again, but it afforded no clew to the motive of Madam Brandon’s extraordinary request.