by Oliver Optic
All the points of the case were stated to Squire Simonton, who volunteered to act as counsel for Bobtail.
"But where did this bill come from, Mrs. Taylor?" asked the legal gentleman.
"I can't tell," replied the troubled woman.
"You can't tell!"
"No, sir; I cannot."
"But your refusal will certainly insure the conviction of your son."
"Robert did not give me that bill," protested she.
"I don't believe he did, nuther," said Ezekiel. "She's got money hid away somewhere."
"If it had been hid away long, it could not have been the bill which was sent in the letter."
"It wasn't hid away," added Mrs. Taylor. "I might injure somebody by telling where I got the bill; and for that reason I can't say a single word, even if I go to prison for it."
"But your son will be sent to prison, certainly, if you don't tell," said the lawyer.
"O, dear! What shall I do?"
She positively refused to tell even Squire Simonton, who explained that, as counsel, he could not be obliged to reveal the secrets of his clients. It was finally arranged that a postponement of the examination should be obtained, if possible; and Mr. Walker and half a dozen others had promised to give bail for Bobtail.
CHAPTER XII.
CAPTAIN CHINKS IS INDIFFERENT.
"I don't know that we can do any better under the circumstances," said Squire Simonton, after the arrangement of the legal business had been agreed upon. "But we are making a strange case of it."
The squire bestowed one of his pleasant smiles upon the case, for he was one of those sweet-tempered men who never frown, even when they are vexed. He was perplexed, and very properly claimed the right, as counsel, to know all the facts. But it was evident that Mrs. Taylor had, or supposed she had, a good reason for concealing the source from which came the five hundred dollar bill.
"Squire Gilfilian purposes to make Mrs. Taylor a party to the theft," said Mr. Brooks. "Probably he will get out a warrant for her arrest in the morning."
"I never thought it would come to this, that I should be taken up for stealing," added the poor woman, bursting into tears.
"You can hardly wonder at being arrested," suggested the squire. "The stolen property was in your possession, and you refuse even to explain where you got it."
"I could tell a lie about it, but I won't do that," sobbed Mrs. Taylor. "If you can only get the case put off for a few days, or a week, I hope—I may be able—that is, I may be able to explain how I came by that bill."
"We must give some reason for desiring a postponement," replied the lawyer. "Can you really say, Mrs. Taylor, that you expect to obtain more testimony?"
"I hope to obtain it."
"Very well. Then I think we can have the case put off till, say, next Tuesday."
"I will try to have matters explained by that time; but I am to be taken up and sent to jail."
"O, no," laughed the squire. "You may be arrested; but that will amount to nothing. Your husband can give bail for you, for it appears that this house belongs to him now, since the mortgage is cancelled."
"I won't go bail for her," said Ezekiel, sourly; and this was the first time he appeared to be of the slightest consequence.
"Won't you?"
"No, I won't. She has kept money hid away from me."
"Never mind, mother. We shall get bail enough to keep a coaster afloat," interposed Bobtail. "If we can't do any better, I'll send for Colonel Montague. He told me, if I ever wanted a friend, to send for him."
"Certainly he will help you, after what you have done to-day," smiled the lawyer.
"But I don't want to have you to go away up to Belfast for him," said Mrs. Taylor, who appeared now to be more troubled than ever.
"I don't think we need to do so, mother. Mr. Walker and two or three other gentlemen said they would bail me out; and so I don't believe we shall sink," laughed Little Bobtail.
"Now, Mr. Brooks, I don't think you need take the boy away from his friends. I am sure he won't run away," added the squire.
"I am satisfied. Though this is the oddest case I have had anything to do with for a long time. I am inclined to think Bobtail will come out right, though for the life of me I can't see how," added the deputy sheriff.
"I'll trust Bobtail anywhere. He goes to our Sunday school, and I know he is an honest boy, however bad his case may look just now," continued Mr. Simonton.
Mr. Brooks was entirely willing to trust the lion of the day out of his custody; and he left the cottage with the lawyer.
"I s'pose I ain't o' no account here," said Ezekiel, as the door closed behind the departing gentlemen.
"What do you mean by that?" asked Mrs. Taylor.
"I wan't to know sunthin' about this business. I s'pose I ain't the head of this family."
"I don't think you are," replied the wife. "You haven't done much for it the last seven years."
"You bring that boy of yourn up to steal. If he'll take my property, he'll take other folks' property."
"It's no use to talk any more about that matter," said Mrs. Taylor, impatiently.
"I believe the boy stole the letter and took the money out on't," muttered Ezekiel.
"A little while ago you believed I had money hid away, and took the five hundred dollars from that."
"It was one way or t'other, and one ain't no wus 'n t'other. I hain't been consulted in this business at all."
"You refused to be bail for me, and that's enough for one day," answered Mrs. Taylor.
"I ain't a goin' to resk my property for a woman that keeps money hid away from me, and won't tell no thin' about this business."
"Your property would have been all taken away from you long ago if I hadn't paid the interest, and paid the mortgage, too."
"But where did you get the money to pay the mortgage with?"
"That will all be explained in due time."
Ezekiel went over the same ground again and again. He was angry, and finally left the house. He felt that he was an abused man, because he was ignored. He objected to giving bail for his wife simply to increase his own importance, and a little importunity would have won his consent. He was vexed because he had not even been asked a second time to yield the point.
"Now, mother, we are alone," said Bobtail. "Can't you tell me where you got that bill?"
"I can't tell anybody, Robert," replied his mother. "I am sure that all will be explained in time."
"The case looks bad against me, mother."
"I know it does;" and the tears began to flow from her eyes again.
"I don't like to be accused of stealing, and have it proved, as it seems to be in this case. I don't blame anybody for thinking I'm guilty, when the very bill that was in the letter was handed to the squire by you, and you won't tell where you got it. I shall be sent to the state prison for two or three years."
"O, Robert, I shall be crazy! Do you think I stole the bill?"
"No, mother; nothing of that kind. I know you wouldn't steal. You know I didn't give you that bill, and you are the only one that does know it positively. I wonder that Squire Simonton don't give me the cold shoulder, though he is my Sunday school teacher. I can't see what difference it would make if you should tell where you got the bill."
"I can't say a word about it. I will try to have the whole matter explained before Tuesday," said the poor woman, troubled as she had never been troubled before.
"I think I shall call on Colonel Montague, if I get a chance. He told me I should hear from him again," said Bobtail, as he put on his cap, for he intended to sleep on board of the Skylark.
"I wouldn't bother him with the matter, Robert."
"Why not? He told me to send for him if I ever wanted a friend; and I want one now, if ever I did."
"It will look as though you wanted to make too much of what you did for him to-day."
"I don't think so, mother. He is a great man, and has influence. If I can get a chance to run up to Belf
ast in the Skylark, I will do so."
"Don't tell him that I sent you, Robert," said Mrs. Taylor, actually trembling with emotion.
"Of course I won't; but I don't see why you are so particular about not calling on him. I know he would be glad to help me."
Mrs. Taylor made no reply, and her son, bidding her good night, left the house. He went on board of the Skylark, and after he had told the Darwinian the whole story of his misfortune, he turned in. He did not sleep as well as usual. He could not help thinking half the night of his troubles. They worried him, and he wondered if people were ever really punished for crimes they did not commit.
Ezekiel Taylor left the cottage hardly less disturbed than his wife was. He had a strong suspicion that he was not the head of the family; that Mrs. Taylor had actually usurped his powers and prerogatives; that she dared to think and act for herself and her son without much, if any, regard to him. He felt belittled and degraded; not because he was a drunkard, and neglected to provide for his family, but because he was not in fact, as he was in name, the head of the house. He was thirsty and hankering for rum, and this condition made him ugly. He had not a cent in his pocket, and his credit at the saloon was not good even for a single dram. But he went to the saloon, for it was possible that some one might treat him. The first person he saw when he entered was Captain Chinks.
Almost everybody seemed to be troubled that night, and Captain Chinks was among the number. Things did not work to suit him; and every time he viewed himself in the glass he saw that black eye which Bobtail had given him, and every time he touched that eye there was a soreness there to remind him of that affair in the cabin of the Skylark. He did not love Little Bobtail, and the event of the day that had set everybody to talking about and praising the boy made him feel ten times worse. It would be hard to convict him of stealing the letter while almost everybody was making a lion of him.
"Ah, Zeke!" exclaimed Captain Chinks, as the tippler entered the saloon.
"How d'y do, cap'n?" replied the nominal head of the family.
"I'm glad to see you, Zeke. I've been wanting to see you. Won't you take something?"
"Thank ye; I don't care if I do take a little o' sunthin'. I don't feel jest right to-night," answered Ezekiel, placing his hand upon his diaphragm, to intimate that this was the seat of his ailing.
"We will go into this little room, if you like," added Captain Chinks, as he led the way into a small apartment, where a party could dine or sup in privacy. "Give us a bottle of that brandy," he continued, addressing the keeper of the saloon.
Ezekiel smiled, for a private room indicated a free-and-easy time. A bottle of brandy promised a succession of drams, enough to warm up that disagreeable coldness at the diaphragm, and to lift his brain up to the pitch of a tippler's highest enjoyment. Then " that brandy" suggested a liquor of choice quality, something which his companion had tested, and knew to be good. Ezekiel was happy, and for the moment he forgot that he was not the actual head of the family; that his wife had kept money "hid away from him;" and that her son had destroyed his property. But he wondered what Captain Chinks could want of him, for that worthy did not generally treat him with much consideration, whereas now he was polite, generous, and ready to invest to the extent of a whole bottle of that brandy, which must be very choice, and therefore expensive.
The bottle came, and the door of the little room was closed. Captain Chinks seated himself on one side of the table, on which the bottle and glasses were placed, and invited Ezekiel to occupy a chair on the other side. The captain pushed the brandy and a glass towards his guest, who needed no persuasion to induce him to partake of the choice liquor. He poured out about half a tumbler of the stuff, but he kept his hand over the glass,—he was a wily toper,—so that his host should not see how much he took. He added a very little water to the fiery fluid, and then held the glass in his trembling hand till the captain was ready to join him. The man with a doubtful reputation did not cover his glass with his hand; if he had thought it necessary, he would have done it in order to conceal how small, rather than how large, a dram he took. He only covered the bottom of the tumbler, and then deluged the liquor with water. Captain Chinks was a cunning man, and he knew that brandy unfits a man for business, impairs his judgment, and blunts his perception. He took a small dram.
"Here's to you," said Ezekiel.
"Thank you; my respects," added Captain Chinks.
The toper drained his glass. The liquor was strong, and the tears drowned his eyes as he swallowed the fiery fluid.
"That's good brandy!" exclaimed he, as soon as he could speak.
"First chop," replied Captain Chinks. "You couldn't buy that brandy in Portland for three dollars a bottle. In my opinion that article never paid tribute to Uncle Sam."
"'Tain't no wus for that," said Ezekiel, with a cheerful grin.
"That's so."
"'Tain't right to charge no duties on liquors. That's the reason we git so much pizen stuff. You can hardly git a drop of good brandy for sickness now, without you pay four or five dollars a bottle for it; and I can't afford to pay no such prices," added Ezekiel, deeply moved at this terrible grievance.
"Well, I reckon there's more of it comes in from the provinces without paying any duties than most people think, though I don't know anything about it myself."
Even Ezekiel Taylor had his doubts on this point, though he was not disposed, under the present agreeable circumstances, to indulge in any controversy on the point.
"The more they bring in, the better," said he, encouragingly.
"By the way, Zeke, that boy of yours is in luck to-day," continued Captain Chinks, toying with his glass.
"He ain't no boy o' mine," said the toper, with no little indignation in his tones. "He's my wife's boy."
"Well, it's all the same. He's a smart boy."
"He's smart enough; but he ain't the right sort of a boy. He's rather too smart."
"That was a bad scrape he got into about that letter; but I can't believe he opened it, and took the money out," added Captain Chinks, still toying with the glass, and apparently without the least interest in the conversation in which he was engaged.
"He ain't none too good to do sech a thing," muttered Ezekiel, as he recalled the wickedness of the boy in destroying "his property."
"I thought he was a nice boy, went to Sunday school, and belonged to the Band of Hope," continued the captain, who, however, judging from his manner, did not care whether the boy was a saint or a demon.
"I don't care what he b'longs to, nor how many Sunday schools he goes to: he stole sunthin' from me, and I cal'late he'd steal from other folks, if he would from me."
"That's good logic, Zeke; but you mustn't be hard on the boy."
"I ain't hard on him."
"I reckon that folks generally think more of him than you seem to. By the way, did he say anything to you about that boat he picked up over on the other shore?"
"No; he never said nothin' to me about it."
"Didn't he?"
"No; he never says nothin' to me about anything."
"That's a fine boat," added Captain Chinks, who had taken a lead pencil from his pocket, and was tapping the glass with it, as if to ascertain the quality of the material of which it was composed.
"So I've hearn tell; but I hain't seen her only from the shore."
"It's strange no one comes after her," suggested the captain. "Zeke, there's a mystery about that boat."
"Sho!"
"Of course I don't know anything about it; but I reckon the owner would have been after her, if there hadn't been some reason for keeping in the dark."
"You don't say so!"
"Well, you see I only guess at it. I don't know no more about it than you do; perhaps not so much."
"I don't know nothin' at all about it," protested Ezekiel.
Captain Chinks tapped the glass, and did not seem to care about anything in particular, least of all about that boat, which was the subject of the conversation
.
"What do you mean by a mystery, cap'n? I hain't hearn nothin' of no mystery afore."
"I had some talk with your boy about the boat and her cargo."
"What cargo? I hain't hearn nothin' o' no cargo."
"Won't you take another nip of this brandy, Zeke?" added Captain Chinks, pushing the bottle towards him.
"Don't care if I do. That's good brandy."
"But it isn't any better than a lot which was aboard that boat when your boy picked her up."
"Sho! You don't say she had brandy in her?"
"No, I don't say so. I say again that I don't know anything at all about the matter. I only had my suspicions, you know."
"I understand," replied Ezekiel, as he drank off his dram.
"I don't know, but in my judgment that boat was loaded with brandy, or something that don't pay tribute to Uncle Sam."
"You don't say so!"
"No, I don't say so," replied Captain Chinks, sharply, for he was very particular not to be regarded as affirming what he only suspected. "I only guess so."
"Well, you don't say that you guess so! That's what I meant to say," explained the toper.
"The talk I had with your boy satisfied me I wasn't far from right. Now, the brandy's worth more than the boat. I'm always up to a trade, you know; and I didn't know but I might make something. I asked your boy if he would give up the cargo and keep the boat, in case I could find the owner."
"Sho! Did you know the owner, cap'n?"
"Of course I didn't. I haven't the least idea who he is. Your boy wouldn't give up the cargo and keep the boat."
"That boy's a fool, and allus was."
"I thought, if I could get hold of the cargo, I could make something out of it. Perhaps you and I can now;" and the captain looked sharply into the toper's face.
"I'm ready," replied Ezekiel, who was now considerably "boozed."
"Bobtail must have landed that cargo somewhere, and concealed it; perhaps on some island; may be in your house. I say, Zeke, can you keep a quiet tongue in your head?"
