CHAPTER XXV.
STARK'S DISAPPOINTMENT.
Philip Stark went back to the hotel with the tin box under his arm.He would like to have entered the hotel without notice, but this wasimpossible, for the landlord's nephew was just closing up. Though notlate for the city, it was very late for the country, and he lookedsurprised when Stark came in.
"I am out late," said Stark, with a smile.
"Yes."
"That is, late for Milford. In the city I never go to bed beforemidnight."
"Have you been out walking?"
"Yes."
"You found it rather dark, did you not?"
"It is dark as a pocket."
"You couldn't have found the walk a very pleasant one."
"You are right, my friend; but I didn't walk for pleasure. The fact is,I am rather worried about a business matter. I have learned that I amthreatened with a heavy loss--an unwise investment in the West--and Iwanted time to think it over and decide how to act."
"I see," answered the clerk, respectfully, for Stark's words led him tothink that his guest was a man of wealth.
"I wish I was rich enough to be worried by such a cause," he said,jokingly.
"I wish you were. Some time I may be able to throw something in yourway."
"Do you think it would pay me to go to the West?" asked the clerk,eagerly.
"I think it quite likely--if you know some one out in that section."
"But I don't know anyone."
"You know me," said Stark, significantly.
"Do you think you could help me to a place, Mr. Stark?"
"I think I could. A month from now write to me Col. Philip Stark, atDenver, Colorado, and I will see if I can find an opening for you."
"You are very kind, Mr.--I mean Col. Stark," said the clerk, gratefully.
"Oh, never mind about the title," returned Stark, smilinggood-naturedly. "I only gave it to you just now, because everybodyin Denver knows me as a colonel, and I am afraid a letter otherwiseaddressed would not reach me. By the way, I am sorry that I shallprobably have to leave you to-morrow."
"So soon?"
"Yes; it's this tiresome business. I should not wonder if I might loseten thousand dollars through the folly of my agent. I shall probablyhave to go out to right things."
"I couldn't afford to lose ten thousand dollars," said the young man,regarding the capitalist before him with deference.
"No, I expect not. At your age I wasn't worth ten thousand cents.Now--but that's neither here nor there. Give me a light, please, and Iwill go up to bed."
"He was about to say how much he is worth now," soliloquized the clerk."I wish he had not stopped short. If I can't be rich myself, I like totalk with a rich man. There's hope for me, surely. He says that at myage he was not worth ten thousand cents. That is only a hundred dollars,and I am worth that. I must keep it to pay my expenses to Colorado, ifhe should send for me in a few weeks."
The young man had noticed with some curiosity the rather oddly-shapedbundle which Stark carried under his arm, but could not see his wayclear to asking any questions about it. It seemed queer that Starkshould have it with him while walking. Come to think of it, heremembered seeing him go out in the early evening, and he was quiteconfident that at that time he had no bundle with him. However, he wasinfluenced only by a spirit of idle curiosity. He had no idea thatthe bundle was of any importance or value. The next day he changed hisopinion on that subject.
Phil Stark went up to his chamber, and setting the lamp on the bureau,first carefully locked the door, and then removed the paper from the tinbox. He eyed it lovingly, and tried one by one the keys he had in hispocket, but none exactly fitted.
As he was experimenting he thought with a smile of the night clerk fromwhom he had just parted.
"Stark," he soliloquized, addressing himself, "you are an old humbug.You have cleverly duped that unsophisticated young man downstairs. Helooks upon you as a man of unbounded wealth, evidently, while, as amatter of fact, you are almost strapped. Let me see how much I have gotleft."
He took out his wallet, and counted out seven dollars and thirty-eightcents.
"That can hardly be said to constitute wealth," he reflected, "but it isall I have over and above the contents of this box. That makes all thedifference. Gibbon is of opinion that there are four thousand dollarsin bonds inside, and he expects me to give him half. Shall I do it? Notsuch a fool! I'll give him fifteen hundred and keep the balance myself.That'll pay him handsomely, and the rest will be a good nestegg for me.If Gibbon is only half shrewd he will pull the wool over the eyes ofthat midget of an employer, and retain his place and comfortable salary.There will be no evidence against him, and he can pose as an innocentman. Bah! what a lot of humbug there is in the world. Well, well, Stark,you have your share, no doubt. Otherwise how would you make a living?To-morrow I must clear out from Milford, and give it a wide berth infuture. I suppose there will be a great hue-and-cry about the robberyof the safe. It will be just as well for me to be somewhere else. I havealready given the clerk a good reason for my sudden departure. Confoundit, it's a great nuisance that I can't open this box! I would like toknow before I go to bed just how much boodle I have acquired. Then I candecide how much to give Gibbon. If I dared I'd keep the whole, but hemight make trouble."
Phil Stark, or Col. Philip Stark, as he had given his name, had a largesupply of keys, but none of them seemed to fit the tin box.
"I am afraid I shall excite suspicion if I sit up any longer," thoughtStark. "I will go to bed and get up early in the morning. Then I maysucceed better in opening this plaguy box."
He removed his clothing and got into bed. The evening had been ratheran exciting one, but the excitement was a pleasurable one, for he hadsucceeded in the plan which he and the bookkeeper had so ingeniouslyformed and carried out, and here within reach was the rich rewardafter which they had striven. Mr. Stark was not troubled with aconscience--that he had got rid of years ago--and he was filled witha comfortable consciousness of having retrieved his fortunes whenthey were on the wane. So, in a short time he fell asleep, and sleptpeacefully. Toward morning, however, he had a disquieting dream. Itseemed to him that he awoke suddenly from slumber and saw Gibbonleaving the room with the tin box under his arm. He awoke really withbeads of perspiration upon his brow--awoke to see by the sun streamingin at his window that the morning was well advanced, and the tin box wasstill safe.
"Thank Heaven, it was but a dream!" he murmured. "I must get up and tryonce more to open the box."
The keys had all been tried, and had proved not to fit. Mr. Stark wasequal to the emergency. He took from his pocket a button hook and bentit so as to make a pick, and after a little experimenting succeeded inturning the lock. He lifted the lid eagerly, and with distended eyesprepared to gloat upon the stolen bonds. But over his face there camea startling change. The ashy blue hue of disappointment succeeded theglowing, hopeful look. He snatched at one of the folded slips of paperand opened it. Alas! it was valueless, mere waste paper. He sank into achair in a limp, hopeless posture, quite overwhelmed. Then he sprang upsuddenly, and his expression changed to one of fury and menace.
"If Julius Gibbon has played this trick upon me," he said, between hisset teeth, "he shall repent it--bitterly!"
Driven from Home; Or, Carl Crawford's Experience Page 25
