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XIII.
_THE BANK-NOTES._
FROM the time that George had seen the children's money, he did notcease to think of it, and soon he began to wish for it.
"'Tis a shame," he said to himself; "those two little snips having sucha lot of money, and here I have next to none. Father is so awful stingyabout giving me money."
This was not true, for Mr. Moore would give his son money for anyneedful purpose; but as George was apt to waste his allowance, he gavehim but a small one. George had been envious when he heard how muchmore Mr. Bradford gave his sons, and now when he saw what the littlegirls had earned, he kept saying to himself that he wished he had halfor even a quarter of what was in that box. The wish grew stronger andstronger; then came the thought how easily he might get at it some timewhen there was no one in Mrs. Bradford's room. Then he began pryingand watching and looking at the drawer where the money lay, thinkinghow fine it would be if he could only _wish_ the bank-notes out of itinto his own pocket. Conscience whispered loudly, struggling with theevil spirit which was gaining such a hold upon him, but all in vain, hewould not listen; and her voice grew fainter and fainter.
At last he resolved that he _would_ have some of that money, come whatmight, although he had in the mean while found out from the boys withwhat purpose the dear little girls were saving it. And "chance" (as hecalled it) threw a fine opportunity in his way.
"This bill is bad," said Mrs. Moore to her husband, one morning whenGeorge was in the room. "It was among those you gave me yesterday, andwas refused in a store where I offered it."
Mr. Moore took it from her. "A counterfeit certainly," he said; "it isunmistakably bad. I wonder I should have been so careless as to takeit." Then twisting it up, he tossed it among a heap of waste paper thatlay in a little basket, for Mr. Moore was rather a careless man. Thatnote should have been destroyed at once when he knew it was bad.
A terrible thought came into George's mind, and he did not shut itout. He lingered a moment behind his parents, and snatching the falsenote, thrust it far down in his pocket; then he followed to thebreakfast-room. But he could eat nothing; the food lay untouched uponhis plate. A guilty, almost _sick_ feeling took from him all appetite,made him hate the sight of those happy faces about the table, andthink that every look which was turned upon him was full of anger andscorn. Once when Harry accidentally touched him, he clapped his handover his pocket with a sudden fear that he was about to drag forththe note and expose him; and when tender-hearted little Bessie cameto him, saying that, since he had eaten no breakfast, he should havehalf of her orange, he pushed her rudely from him, and would not takethe gift she offered so prettily. His father reproved him sharply forhis ill-manners, and his mother said she was sure George was not well,something had been wrong with him for two or three days; he must seethe doctor.
Yes, something was wrong, very wrong with George, but it was not whathis anxious mother thought; it was far worse than any sickness of thebody; it was the evil of a bad heart, of a guilty purpose, and nodoctor could cure him since he would not go to the great Physician.All the morning he crept about the house, wretched and uneasy, lookingmiserable enough to give cause for his mother's anxiety. Once or twicehis wicked resolution almost gave way, and he half determined to throwaway the note and think no more of the money in the box; but again thetempter whispered, drowning the feeble voice of conscience, and givinghim many reasons why he should take what he wished for.
That afternoon he was left alone. His mother and Mrs. Bradford wentout, taking Maggie and Bessie with them, leaving him behind at his ownrequest. The boys were at school; his father and Mr. Bradford far awaydown town; it really seemed as if all had been arranged for him tocarry out his purpose.
Rising from the sofa, upon which his mother had left him, he stolesoftly to the door and peeped out. How still the house was! He wentslowly along the hall, watching the turn of the stairs lest a headshould suddenly appear above it, reached Mrs. Bradford's door, pushedit open and entered. Now, quick--not a minute to lose. Hark! What isthat? Nothing but old nurse crooning softly to her baby in the nursery.
Noiselessly he pulled open the drawer, lifted the box, the secret ofwhich Maggie had showed him, from its corner, took out one of the freshclean notes, and put in its place the crumpled, worthless bill hisfather had thrown aside that morning.
Whenever he had felt reproached for the meanness he was guilty oftowards the dear little girls who had been so kind to him, he would sayto himself that it was not at all likely they would suffer from it;probably the bad note would be paid away with the others; his fatherhad taken it without noticing that it was false, why should not othersdo so? Even if it should be found out, Mr. Bradford would give hischildren another in the place of it; he was a rich man, a dollar wasnothing to him.
He was about to put the box back, when the thought came to him, whytake only one? Forgetting in his guilty haste that the loss of asecond would make the change of the first more easily discovered, hetouched the spring once more, took out another dollar, and then hastilyreplaced the box.
The deed once done, half his fears seemed to pass away. How easy it hadbeen! No one had seen him, no one heard him; he was going away with hisfather and mother in two days, and probably no one would find out--the_theft_ he would not say to himself--he called it the _loss_.
While Mr. Moore was out, he thought that he had been careless in thematter of the false note, and when he came home, looked for it, that hemight destroy it. But it was gone, and his wife could tell him nothingof it. He called George, and asked him if he had seen it. Georgehesitated, and seemed so confused that his father was sure he had it,and asked how he had dared take it, when he knew it to be bad.
"I only took it to play with," stammered George. "I am always playingstore with Maggie and Bessie, and I thought it would be nice for money."
This was true, as Mr. Moore knew, and, more gently, he told his son togive him the note.
"I threw it away," said the wicked boy; "I thought maybe you would notlike me to have it, and I put it in the fire."
"All right then," said Mr. Moore, "but why are you so frightened? youhave done nothing so very wrong, though it would have been better ifyou had not touched the note, and I am myself to blame for leaving itwhere there was any probability that it might be turned to a bad use."
George was only too glad that he had escaped so easily, and had nofeelings of sorrow for having deceived his kind, good father.
The rest of that day and the whole of the next passed, and he heardnothing to alarm him. Every one was more kind than usual to him, thoughhe himself was restless and fretful, for all thought he was not well.He kept out of the way of the other children, and spent half his timelounging on the sofa in his mother's room. He would willingly havespent the whole of his time there, but he was tormented with the fearthat something might have been discovered, and would go about among thefamily to make sure that all was safe.
"Mamma," said Maggie, dancing into her mother's room, on the morning ofthe third day,--"mamma, nurse says this is the tenth of the month."
"Well, Dimple, what of that?"
"Why, mamma, you know that is the day you give us the glove-money,and here are my gloves,--the best ones quite, quite good, and thesecond-best are very nice, too; Jane mended them yesterday; and herecomes Bessie with hers, and they are _very_ nice; and I have had onlyone pair of boot-laces this month, mamma, and so do you not think wehave enough for the log-cabin library, and for Mary's sack, too? Wewant to buy it and give it to her for Christmas, if you will let Janemake it. I think we shall have enough, mamma; don't you think so?"
Certainly her mother's name of "Dimple" was well suited to Maggie justthen; for mouth, cheeks, and chin seemed running over with smiles,while her eyes looked as if they would dance out of her head. Nor wasBessie much less eager, as she stood beside her sister, and the fourlittle hands each held up a pair of gloves.
"We will see," said mamma. "Papa is not quite read
y to go down-stairs;we shall have time to count it up. I think you have over five dollarsin your box, and these two,"--as she spoke, Mrs. Bradford took somemoney from her purse--"will make over seven. I think we shall manage tobuy Mary's sack out of that."
She sat down upon a low chair, the children standing on each side, andtaking the box from the drawer, emptied it into her lap.
"A pair of bootlaces for Maggie and one for Bessie, that leaves twodollars and fifteen cents for this month. Now here is--Why, what acrumpled note! How came this here?" and Mrs. Bradford took up the billwhich George had vainly endeavored to smooth out. "I thought all thosenotes papa gave you were quite clean and fresh."
"So they were, mamma, nice and new and pretty; and, mamma, I am quitesure I did not muss that up so, and--Why there are only two bills, andwe had three! I did not lose any, mamma,--I know I did not," said poorMaggie, all in a flutter, lest her mother should think this was some ofher old carelessness.
"Do not be frightened, dear," said Mrs. Bradford; "no one is going toaccuse you, or think you have been careless unless there is good reasonfor it. Henry, will you come here for one moment?"
Mr. Bradford came from his dressing-room, hair-brush in hand.
"Do you know anything of this bill? Have you changed any of thechildren's money?" asked his wife.
He took the note from her hand.
"This is a counterfeit, and a very poor one too," he said, the momenthe looked at it. "Have either of you ever seen it before, children?"
"No, papa," said Maggie. "I know it is not one of our bills. We keptthem just as nice as you gave them to us, and one is gone too."
"When did you last have out your money?" asked Mrs. Bradford.
"The day we went to the dentist's, mamma. When papa gave me the dollarthat evening, I went for the box and put it in, and George counted themoney for us, and there were three bills there, all clean and new."
"And we told Harry how much it was, and he put it in his little book,"said Bessie; "he always keeps how much we have in his little book,mamma."
"Some one has meddled with it," said Mr. Bradford. "The notes I gavethe children were all new ones on the ---- Bank."
"Will we never find our own dollars, do you think, papa?" said Maggie,with a very long face.
"Yes, indeed, my darling,--at least, you shall have others in theirplace. This loss must not fall on you after all your efforts."
"I should have locked up the box," said Mrs. Bradford. "I wish I hadtaken your advice, Henry."
Mr. Bradford took from his pocket-book two other bank-notes, and gavethem to the children.
"I do not wish you to speak of this to any one," he said to them; andthey promised to obey.
Then mamma counted up all the money and it came to seven dollars,sixty-nine cents,--five for the library, and the rest for Mary's sack;for Mrs. Bradford said there was quite enough to buy some warm, cheapcloth, and she would let Jane make it at once, that it might be ready.They should go out with her that day and help choose the cloth.
Mr. Bradford carefully put away the counterfeit note, thinking that itmight help to find out the guilty person, and when he went down-stairs,called Harry and Fred into the library.
"Harry," he said, "how much money was in the children's box when youcounted it for them the other day?"
"Five dollars, sixty-nine cents, papa,--here it is written down;" andHarry, who was very neat and orderly in all his ways, pulled out hismemorandum-book and read "M.'s and B.'s box, Dec. 5th, $5.69 cents."This was the sum which should have been in the box, and showed thatthe money had been taken within the last few days. Mr. Bradford toldthe boys of the loss, for he wished that they should know of it,but he charged them to be silent. Both he and his wife were veryuncomfortable. There were one or two new servants in the house, butthey had come with good characters, and there was no reason to thinkthey had taken the money. None of them knew where it was kept, or thesecret of the box. Only one besides their own children knew that.
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