THE MYSTERY DEEPENS.

The arrest of Mr. McGusher produced a great sensation among the members of the clubs, for though he was an unmitigated swell, no one supposed he was a rascal, or knew enough to be a rogue. Some of the tender-hearted girls even pitied him, when he was arrested and exposed. No one was more interested in the proceedings than Neil Brandon, and after the Monogram had departed with the prisoner and his discomfited step-mother, he was not quite willing to go on board of the Ocean-Born while Captain Bilder remained on shore. The ship-master had brought Mr. Beardsley over with his own team, and intended to drive back in the course of the day.

“Berry, will you pick up those yachts, and get ready to tow them up?” asked Neil of his mate. “I am not quite prepared to go on board yet.”

“Certainly I will,” replied Berry Owen.

“Take one on each side, and the other four astern, in pairs,” added Neil.

“I wish you would go up the river, father,” said Kate, while they were waiting on the river.

“I must return to the city, and attend to Mr. McGusher’s case. Perhaps I will go up as far as Bucksport, and return in the steamer.”

“I wish you would,” added Neil. “We will make you comfortable on board the Ocean-Born.”

Captain Bilder accepted the invitation. Kate took her place in the Lily, and in a few moments the five boats of the Dorcas Club were pulling steadily up the river. Neil and his new guest went on board of the Ocean-Born in a shore boat before she had arranged her tow, for as there was not a breath of wind, the yachts were utterly helpless, and the steamer had to pick them up one at a time.

“Mr. McGusher seems to have come to grief,” said Neil, when they had reached the deck of the Ocean-Born.

“He is a simpleton,” replied Captain Bilder; “but I am satisfied that he is not a rascal of his own volition.”

“I don’t think he knows enough to be a great villain,” added Neil.

“And the choice of him as an agent is not very creditable to his principals.”

“I don’t quite understand the matter. Who is the woman that talked so loud and was so positive?”

“Mrs. Banford; she was formerly my housekeeper, and as such she obtained a very full knowledge of all my business and family affairs.”

“Won’t you walk into my room, Captain Bilder?” continued Neil, who seemed to forget that he was not now avoiding the Bilders, as his mother desired.

In a few minutes, Neil and his guest were seated in front of the desk in the captain’s room. The young man was nervous and ill at ease. Perhaps he felt that he was prying into a forbidden subject.

“You seem to be quite sure that Mr. McGusher is a fraud,” said he, when they were seated.

“I have been satisfied of that from the beginning,” replied Captain Bilder. “I know that my son had not his eyes or his nose.”

“Then you had a son?”

“I had, but I am reasonably sure that he was drowned in the Mississippi River when a small child;” and the ship-master briefly related the incident of the disappearance of the child.

“After all, it is possible that the child was stolen,” said Neil.

“Barely possible; if any one stole the little one, it could only be in order to get a large sum of money out of me. As no one has put in any claim, except this young fellow, I am afraid there is nothing to hope for.”

“McGusher showed me the letter he carried to you,” continued the young captain.

“Did he, indeed?”

“That letter says the child was stolen by Neil Brandon.”

“Yes; he was the mate of my ship; but I don’t think he was vile enough to do such a deed.”

“What became of him?” asked Neil, deeply interested.

“I don’t know; I never saw him after I discharged him at Hong Kong, though I heard he was in New York, when my ship arrived. I never ascertained what became of him. I don’t know that I felt interest enough in him to inquire. Do you think he was a relative of yours?”

“I have no idea, sir. It seems very strange that his name and mine should be the same.”

“That was what startled me when I first went on board of your steamer. What do you know about your father, Captain Brandon?”

“Not much; he died when I was quite young. I only know that he was a rich man, who made his fortune by the rise of land in Philadelphia. He went to sea when he was a young man.”

“There is something about this McGusher affair which perplexes me beyond measure,” said Captain Bilder, thoughtfully. “I fully understand that Mrs. Banford fitted out her step-son for his mission in Belfast; but I do not understand where she obtained the pieces of card which were relied upon to carry her point.”

“What were those?” asked Neil.

“Some ten years ago I received a letter, with no signature, informing me that my son was not dead, and that some time he might come to me, claiming to be my son. The letter contained one of three pieces of a card, on which were six lines of writing. My son, if he came to me, was to bring the left hand piece, while the middle one was sent to me. This was before Mrs. Banford left my employ, and the writing was not hers. I talked with her about the matter. Now, ten years after, her step-son appears with the left hand piece of card. The third piece, I was informed in the letter, was deposited with Borden Green & Co., New York. The other day I wrote to this firm, who had formerly been my bankers. This morning’s mail brought me the third piece of card, which exactly corresponds with the other two. I have them with me,” said Captain Bilder, taking an envelope from his pocket.

On the desk he arranged the three pieces of card, the right hand piece of which had just reached him. The part fitted the middle piece perfectly, and it was evident that they had all been cut from one and the same card. The pieces had come from three different sources, and the card must have been divided more than ten years before, when Mrs. Banford was still the housekeeper of the ship-master.

“I should call that very good evidence indeed,” said Neil.

“So should I, if the young fellow had not been so different from my son,” replied Captain Bilder. “The original card was written upon by the person who penned the first letter to me, whoever that may have been. It was a woman, but her identity is a mystery to me.”

“Perhaps it was Mrs. Banford,” suggested Neil.

“No; I am quite sure it is not she. The writing was not hers; and the spelling was not hers. You heard what McGusher was arrested for?”

“For breaking open a letter.”

“And taking two five-hundred dollar bills from it. Well, I read that letter. It had been in my house nearly ten years. The handwriting and the spelling were the same as that of the first letter which had come to me. The address on it was not in the same hand.”

“Then the person who wrote the card and the letter, telling you your son might come to you, was a correspondent of Mrs. Banford,” said Neil.

“That is proved to my satisfaction, and before I have done with the woman and her son, I shall know who her correspondent is,” added Captain Bilder, very decidedly. “I have lost all my property, it is true; and perhaps this fact has modified the action of the woman.”

“May I look at that card?” asked Neil, glancing at the pieces which still lay matched together on the desk.

“Certainly,” replied Captain Bilder.

Neil bent over the desk, and read the card.

“‘Marguerite Brandon, _née_ Lardier’!” exclaimed he.

“Do you know any such person?” asked the ship-master.

Neil was not willing to answer the question. He was much agitated, and seemed to feel that he had betrayed the confidence reposed in him by his mother.

“Oscar Blake Bilder,” he continued, reading the last line of the re-united piece of card. “Who was he?”

“He was my son--the little boy that was lost. I am sure that Mrs. Banford could not have known all the facts stated on that card,” added Captain Bilder. “For instance, Lardier was Marguerite’s maiden name. We never called her anything but Marguerite. This information did not come from her. There is another person concerned in the conspiracy; and this other person sent the money to Mrs. Banford. However, I shall get at the whole truth before I have done with the matter. You seemed to be a little startled when you read the name of Marguerite. Can you explain this business?”

“I cannot, sir. Who was Marguerite?” replied Neil.

“She was the nurse employed to take care of my children. She was with us in the China sea, and made several voyages with me. If this card is to be relied upon, she became the wife of Neil Brandon.”

“Then Neil Brandon was a bad man,” added the young captain, musing.

“I don’t say that, and I don’t believe it.”

“Then you don’t believe he stole your child?”

“I do not. Neil Brandon was not a bad man while he was with me. He was the best mate I ever had, and always did well till Marguerite came on board with the children. He was very fond of her, and neglected his duty to talk and flirt with her. I was afraid I should lose my ship, or my children, by the neglect and carelessness of the mate and the nurse, and I discharged him. He was angry, and threatened to be revenged upon me for sending him off; but I took this as only a burst of passion, and thought nothing more about it.”

“Have you the letter which contained the money McGusher stole?” asked Neil.

He was completely bewildered by the facts which had been forced upon his understanding. Though he could not explain the business, as he had told Captain Bilder, he recognized the writing on the card as that of Madam Brandon, his mother. Her maiden name he knew was Lardier.

“I have not the letter; it is the property of Mrs. Banford, and I had no authority to retain it; but I have asked Mr. Beardsley to get it for me,” replied the ship-master.

“Do you know the handwriting?” asked Neil, nervously.

“I do, very well indeed.”

“Is that it?” inquired Neil, as he took from the desk the long letter from his mother, wherein he had been requested to avoid the Bilders.

Captain Bilder put on his glasses and examined the writing very attentively.

“It is the same hand precisely, though this letter is written more rapidly than the card or Mrs. Banford’s letter,” replied the ship-master, somewhat excited himself by this time. “The style of spelling is the same. ‘Living’ is spelled with an e, and ‘where’ is whare. I have no doubt this letter was written by the one who wrote the card, and the money letter which has been in my house ten years.”

“I am entirely satisfied on that point,” added Neil, now trembling with emotion.

“Who wrote this letter?” demanded Captain Bilder.

“Have you read it, sir?”

“Only a line here and there.”

“Read it, if you please.”

“But who wrote it?”

“My mother,” replied Neil, in a sad and subdued tone.

“Your mother!” exclaimed the ship-master, springing out of his chair in his excitement.

“Yes, sir; my mother.”

“Can it be that your mother is engaged in this--this conspiracy!”

“It would appear that she is; but I know nothing about it,” added Neil, and it seemed to him that a crime was about to be fastened upon his mother.

“But didn’t you say that your father was a wealthy man?”

“I did, sir; he was worth half a million, besides the house in which he lived.”

“And what became of his property?” asked Captain Bilder.

“He left it all to my mother,” replied Neil.

“None to you?”

“No, sir; but by my mother’s will, which she says she has made, I am the sole heir.”

“Certainly your mother, worth half a million of dollars, could not have engaged in any conspiracy,” said the ship-master.

“I don’t believe she did. I don’t understand it,” pleaded Neil.

“I must see your mother! I must know whether she was the nurse of my children on board the Coriolanus!” exclaimed Captain Bilder. “She wrote that card, and she must have given the left hand piece of it to Mrs. Banford. But I can’t see why she should engage in such a piece of trickery.”

“Nor I, sir. Will you read her letter? While you are doing so, I will go out and see how we are getting on.”

Neil left the state-room, and Captain Bilder gave himself up to the reading of the long epistle. The Ocean-Born was on her way up the river. The Sea Foam was made fast on her port and the Skylark on her starboard side. Behind her she was dragging the Maud, Phantom, Alice, and Nellie. She was making a speed of about three knots, which was as fast as the Dorcas Club, only a few fathoms ahead of her, cared to row. Half her yachtmen were on the hurricane deck of the steamer, and all hands were exceedingly jolly. Neil was sadly troubled, and he did not join the festive company. He looked into the galley, where Peter Blossom was up to his eyes in poultry and roasting pieces, and Karl was washing potatoes, turnips, and other vegetables, all for the great dinner which was to be given that day to the members of the Dorcas Club. The cooks of the several yachts were performing similar service on the forecastle, and it was evident there would be no lack of dinners in the fleet.

Neil gave some directions to the cook and steward, and then walked aft. He wanted to believe that his mother had done nothing wrong, at least that she had taken no guilty part in the conspiracy against Captain Bilder. The ship-master did not believe his former mate had stolen the child, and, of course, the son had no reason to think his dead father had done so cruel a deed. He had never heard a word about Mrs. Banford before, and he could not fathom his mother’s relations to her. It was all a muddle, and he could make nothing of it. He returned to his state-room before Captain Bilder had finished the reading of the letter.

“Your mother wishes you to avoid me and my daughter,” said the ship-master, as he finished the letter.

“Yes, sir; that was what I particularly wished you to see,” replied Neil.

“Well, that is perfectly consistent with what we already know. She seems to have assisted Mrs. Banford in her attempt to impose McGusher upon me.”

“I can’t see why she should do it.”

“Nor I. Then she had paid her a thousand dollars in one sum, and as the letter containing the money was permitted to remain unclaimed for ten years in my house, it was hardly probable this was all your mother paid her.”

“Perhaps not: I don’t know,” replied Neil, blankly. “I can’t see why my mother should pay her any money.”

“It is not likely that she would have done so, unless Mrs. Banford had some strong claim upon her. From the carelessness with which the business was done, I should judge that it was hush-money she paid.”

“Perhaps it was. But, Captain Bilder, my mother is a good woman. She always goes to church three times a day, and she gives thousands of dollars to the poor every year. I never knew her to do anything wrong,” pleaded Neil, his eyes full of tears.

“Some very good people, without any fault of their own, have paid money to avoid certain consequences. Mrs. Banford evidently has some hold upon your mother, and probably extorted that piece of card from her, as well as considerable sums of money. I must see your mother, Captain Brandon.”

“You may have an opportunity if you go up to Bangor with us.”

“Do you think she will go there?”

“I do; it would be just like her. You can judge from her letter how nervous she is about this business.”

“Well, we will talk no more about it now. I must leave you at Bucksport to return to Belfast by the steamer, for I am obliged to attend to the case of Mrs. Banford, or rather Mrs. McGusher, for that appears to be her name now. But I think I shall go up to Bangor in the boat to-morrow morning.”

“I hope I shall see you there, for I shall not be satisfied till this mystery is solved,” replied Neil.

“After what I have learned from you, I may make some progress with Mrs. McGusher in getting at the truth.”

The conference was ended for the present, and Neil joined his friends on the hurricane deck, struggling to banish from his thoughts the mystery of the hour. He tried to believe that his mother had done no wrong which she had paid large sums of money to conceal; and he was not willing to believe that his dead father had ever known anything about the lost child of his guest.

The Dorcas Club rowed abreast, in single line, in couples, and in all manner of figures that could be formed with the five boats. Men, women, and children on the shores observed the club with interest, and the crews of the lumber vessels anchored all the way up, waiting for a breeze, cheered the young ladies. Steamers whistled complimentary salutations, to all of which the fair rowists responded by tossing their oars, and the Ocean-Born whistled in reply. The girls rested half an hour in the Narrows, but they fell astern and made fast to the yachts, to prevent the swift current from carrying them down the river. Ben Lunder made salt speeches to them, and when they started again, he was a passenger in the Lily. He kept the girls laughing so that they could hardly preserve their position in the line. In fact, there was a young man in every one of the boats, and possibly one in the head of each of the young ladies. But everybody was happy, and every moment of the excursion was enjoyed.

At half past one, after a pull of three hours and a half, the procession of boats reached Bucksport. The Ocean-Born, with the yachts still in tow, anchored under the guns of Fort Knox, opposite the town. The row-boats ran alongside of her, and the gallant yachtmen assisted the ladies on board. The boats were secured where the tide could not harm them, and all the young men began to be exceedingly polite, chatty, and devoted.

“Der dinner ist rady!” shouted Karl. “You don’t petter vait here dill every dings is colt.”

“But we can’t all dine in that little cabin,” said Miss President Darling.

“All the ladies can,” replied Neil; “and all the officers and crew of the Ocean-Born shall do duty behind their chairs.”

It was rather a close fit, but all the members of the Dorcas Club were seated at the table in the forward cabin. Neil placed himself behind the chair of Minnie Darling, at the head; Ben was behind that of Kate Bilder, and others expressed their preferences in the same manner, though they did not confine their attention to the ladies behind whom they had rallied. The dinner was one of Mr. Blossom’s best, and the members of the Dorcas Club were hungry enough to appreciate it. When it was over, the table was prepared for another service. The officers and crew seated themselves with their guests, and then, to their astonishment, the Dorcasites took places behind their chairs, at least two to each person. It was a jolly time, and the fun bubbled up like water from a spring.

In the afternoon they visited the town, and in the evening danced at the hotel, where rooms had been engaged for the Dorcas Club.

The next morning at eight, the fleet resumed its course up the river, the Ocean-Born towing the yachts, and the row-boats leading the way. The party lunched off Hampden, and reached Bangor at two in the afternoon. The excursionists formed a procession as at Fort Point, and marched to the hotel, where the dinner, tendered by Dr. Darling, was in readiness for them.

As soon as he entered the Bangor House, Neil went to the office and examined the register. Among the arrivals was that of “Mrs. Brandon, Phila.”