Mr. Perkins of New Jersey, or, The stolen bonds / y Gay Parker

Front matter

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GLASGOW.

Chapter I

Tue wind whistled shrilly along the street, driving the sleety rain with a sharp spatter against the window pane. As she listened to the chilling sound Mrs. Marlow shivered ; not that she was cold, for the bright warm parlour in which she sat, with its cheerful coal fire, was the very embodiment of comfort ; but she shivered out of sympathy with her son whom she knew was then braving the inclement weather, for Mrs. Marlow was naturally of a nervous, anxious temperament and prone to find sources of disquietude where none existed. As she sat in her luxurious chair she certainly looked as if she had no cause for complaint. The room was handsomely furnished; heavy carpets and curtains helped to keep out the cold, pictures adorned the walls, the bay window was gay with bright plants and flowers that seemed to mock at the cold without, the canary hopped and twittered in his golden cage as if begging for a word to break the stillness. But Mrs. Marlow could take no heed of him, she kept looking anxiously at the pretty French clock and then shivered as the sleet rattled on the window panes.

“He is very late,” she kept repeating. “I hope nothing has happened.” She was a tall slender woman of between forty-five and fifty, though she

_looked far younger, for not a thread of silver was visible in her abundant dark hair. Her fine dark eyes had lost none of their brightness, her complexion, though pale, was fresh and smooth, and her features were regular and clear cut. Buta habit she had of pressing her thin lips together, and of frowning till her arched brows met over her slender straight nose, showed her nervous excitable temperament.

Hight o’clock struck and Mrs. Marlow was making an impatient exclamation, but the words died on her lips as she heard the hall door open and shut, and then a man’s step in the hall, then the parlour door swung wide and a young man entered.

“Well, little mother,” said he cheerfully,“getting ready to scold me?”

“A guilty conscience!” she answered, trying to smile. “You know

6 Mk. PERKINS OF NEW jERSEY} you deserve it; out so late in this terrible weather, when only last week you were sick with cold and sore throat and—”

The rest of her speech was cut short by her son stooping over her and giving her a hearty smack.

«And all the ills that flesh is heir to,” said he, laughing and finishing her sentence for her as he rose up and stood before the fire. He was a goodlooking young fellow of twenty-five, not at all like his mother, for he was blonde, not a bit handsome, but with a good honest face with plenty of strength in it. A pairof bright honest blue eyes that looked you full in the face, a firm mouth and chin and a nose that had more character than symmetry. The same characteristics showed. in his build; a trifle above medium height, his figure showed more strength and vigour than elecance. He would not be noticed twice in a crowd if one was looking for beauty, but if in trouble among strangers one would instinctively turn to him.

“Well,” said his mother, “ what has kept you so late? ”

“T went to see Mr. Dorset.”

“Ah! and what did he say?”

“He insists he must and he will have a share of the A. & C. BR. R. socks or their equivalent, and also a share of the Jersey farm.”

“He is simply deranged. Your father made all that property over to me in place of money from my own father’s estate which I let him have to carry oo his speculations with.”

Certainly, I told him so, But he

SS says that the money, and also money that belonged to his dead wife, father invested in stocks of the A. &C. R. R., and sold out with’ a handsome advance and invested in Government bonds, and that he, Dorset, is entitled, to a share of them. I told him I knew of no Government bonds, and he flew into a rage, and swore he'd make me know, and if he could dono , better he would sue for part of the Jersey farm.”

As Alex. Marlow spoke, he took hold of the poker and mechanically punched the fire, and it so happened that he did not see his mother’s face as he spoke of the Government bonds, nor the slight start she gave, but there was no tremor in her voice as she angrily said:

“Sue for the Jersey farm? He cannot touch it! It is mine, bought, as I have told you, with my own money. The man must be crazy.”

“He is certainly very violent tempered, and was very offensive in his language to-day.”

“Oh, of course; your poor father had endless trouble with him. I mourn the day he ever took him into partnership.”

Alex. smiled. ‘‘Thatis just what he said. But he swears that unless you compromise and give him part of the Jersey farm he will sue.”

“Let him sue!”

“JT hate to have my dead father’s name dragged into court.”

“What would you do? have your father’s widow robbed by this vulture of what he has left ? ” |

“ No, certainly not. But he insists

OR, THE STOLEN BONDS. ”

that the money made by their joint speculation in A. & C. stock, father invested in Government bonds, and _at his death those bonds could not be found. Therefore, he had made away with them; that the money he invested was a clear loss to him and it ‘was money of his dead wife’s, and belonged to his daughter, and she should not be swindled.”

«The man is crazy! It is a shame your poor father’s name should be hawked about in this manner!”

“Dorset swears that there was at least $50,000 worth of Government bonds not accounted. for that had mysteriously disappeared. I asked him how such a thing could have happened, and they partners? But he said father was the active member of the concern and he trusted him implicitly, and now in winding up the business these bonds cannot be accounted for.”

“Yes, they were nominally partners, but he was such a stupe your ' father had all the work to do, and to support both himself and Dorset. Poor man! he carried a heavy load!”

Alex. Marlow was silent. From hints dropped him by business friends he had been forced to suspect that the deceased gentleman had not been as clean in his business transactions as:

he might have been, and he dreaded any investigations in court, not knowing what they might reveal. Not for worlds would he let his mother dream of this. If he could only persuade her to consent to a compromise and so prevent any disgraceful developments.

All the property had been settled on her. Not a cent had his father left him, and he had been surprised to find

“what asmall amount his father had left, considering the large business he had done. He, Alex., had no taste for speculation and was content to “ plod” as his father had contemptuously called it, in the office of Mx. Lynn, the great cotton merchant, where he was highly esteemed by his employer for his industry and his fidelity to his interests. .

“He carried a heavy. load,’ the widow repeated bitterly.

Alex. was silent, remembering Dorset’s threats to make Marlow’s estate “unload” and give him his share.

“T would dislike a quarrel with him,” he said at last. “ A lawsuit is so expensive, and it is terrible to drag father’s name in court and have it bandied about. In your place I would compromise, even if I gave up part of the Jersey farm.”

“Alexander Marlow! are you crazy? Well might your poor father say you had no head for business. But if you haven’t I have, and not one cent of my property will I give up. Tt is mine, either inherited from my father or what your father worked for. It is well he left 1t to me and not you, or it would soon vanish.” “

Her son made no rejoinder to her taunt though he coloured slightly ; and so they sat mute for a few minutes.

“T saw Mr. Perkins to-day,” said his mother, at last breaking the silence.

“And what did he say?”

“That he thought his brother mich

8 MR. PERKINS JOFVNEW™ JERSE Y ;

ms ep too bitter, and he deplored his violence. We had a very pleasant talk. He is such a nice man. Pity my poor husband had not had him for a partner instead of his ill-tempered half-brother.”

“Yes, there is a great difference between them, one would not think they were related. Dorset is so rough and bearish, and Mr. Perkins so gentlemanly and refined.”

‘He seemed quite interested in my business,” continued Mrs. Marlow; «said he hoped his brother would not force matters to an open issue.”’

Marlow sighed. Mr. Perkins, too, must have heard something of his father’s business slackness. If his mother continued obdurate what should he do? Here his mother coughed shghtly.

“Mother, you scold me for exposing myself, and here you are going about in a pair of thin slippers this cold night.”

“The house is well heated,’ she answered.

« But not warm enough for you to go about all but barefoot; pray, go and change your shoes.”

“T insist,” he said.

“Tnsist! who are you speaking tors

“To you. You are all I have in the world. You shan’t trifle with yourself.” He put his arms about her as he spoke and kissed her.

She smiled: “I am too comfortable to move.”

“Let me run and get your boots for you.”

“ And rummage up all my things ? No, indeed !”

“Then I will rmg for Sarah.”

“Sarah and Patrick have both gone out.”

“Then if you won’t let me play maid, you must go yourself. You must obey me, mother dear; 1 can’t afford to lose you.”

“Tiresome boy!” but she kissed him as she spoke and rose to obey.

She was not a demonstrative woman and Marlow long after remembered that caress.

Chapter II

Mrs. Marzow left the room and her son sunk into gloomy reflections as to what was best to do to avert the impending trouble. Scandal he almost feared. He could not bear to tell his mother what he had heard, and if he did, she would not helieve him. She was a stubborn woman, with strong prejudices and decided opinions of her own, a woman of a high temper who could brook but little opposition. Dorset had a similar temper and they could not endure each other; between these two stormy persons his father would have led a rough life had he not possessed an imperturbable temper that nothing ruffled, and so kept the mastery over both.

But what was he to do now? That was the question. Perhaps Mr. Perkins could be persuaded to act as mediator between the two. Mrs. Marlow liked him, and he had much influence with his brother. Absorbed with these reflections the time passed swiftly. At last he glanced at the clock; a half hour since his mother went up stairs. Why, she took a long time to change her shoes!

He took up a paper and began to read in the hope of forgetting his anxious thoughts.

Marlow started. Where was his mother? Was she sick? Had she taken the sulks at having her will crossed and so left him for the night? How provoking! What a pity she had such a touchy temper!

He threw down the paper and ran up stairs and tapped at her door. No answer.

“Mother, mother, may I come in?”

Still no answer.

He turned the knob and entered ; the room was empty.

“ Mother,” he called, a little startled. “Mother, mother.”

Could she have fallen into a faint ? A fit? A vague alarm seized him. He ran into her dressing-room, but she was not there. Into his room, calling as he went, but no answer.

Thoroughly alarmed, he searched the house, but not a trace of her could be found. As he was searching the - kitchen, Sarah, the servant, entered.

“Master Alex! and what are you doing here? What’s the matter?” seeing his blanched face.

“My mother—Sarah, I can’t find her!”

“Can’t find her! she ?”’

“Heaven knows!

She ain’t lost, is

She went up stairs to change her shoes and never returned, and I can find her nowhere.”

“That’s strange ! for her to be out. the house.”

“She wouldn’t have ventured out

This is no night She must be in alone this time of night,’ said Marlow, “for you know she is timid.”

«Then she is in here, somewhere,” said Sarah. ‘It’s too awful cold for her to have ventured out.”

“And why should she go without me ¥”

“To be sure, why should she? She’s here somewheres, we'll find her.” As she spoke, Sarah led the way to the first floor, saying as she went,

“T’ve been spending the evening wit.

a friend that’s dead. Patrick took me there and then he was seized with a raging pain in his side and went to the drug store for some medicine. Has he come in?”

“T haven’t seen him.”

They both now proceeded to make an exhaustive search; not a closet, not a wardrobe, was left untouched. But nowhere could she be found. Her bonnet lay on a wardrobe shelf, her cloak hung on a peg, her boots were untouched in a closet, but of the owner not a trace! Marlow and Sarah became greatly alarmed.

“Great Heaven!” cried the servant, “ what has happened ?”

Marlow was silent, but his face paled with a nameless terror.

Every door and window was locked and barred. Mrs. Marlow was very timid of robbers.

1a) MR, “Sarah, was the area door open when you came in? ”

“No: I opened it with my pass key.”

They stood listening in the hall to catch a sound, but all was still, so still that Marlow could hear his heart beat.

‘ola can't eae this,” he cried hoarsely. “I will go for a detective.”

“You can’t get one this time: of night,” said Sarah.

“Yes, I can; 1 know one very well. If he won’t come I’ll drag him here,” said Marlow, as he threw on his hat and overcoat and hurried away.

In an ineredibly short space of time he was back with the officer.

“Any trace of her?” Marlow asked, as Sarah opened the door.

The woman shook her head.

Vor the third time Marlow made a search of the house, and for the third time could find no trace of her. He gazed helplessly at the detective.

“You say your mother went upstairs to change her shoes?”

ares.”

«And never changed them,”

Sarah, producing the boots.

The detective made no answer, but turning, walked slowly down the hall that led from Mrs. Marlow’s room. He turned, and went back to Mrs. Marlow’s room and opened the wardrobe.

“Ts this your mistress’ cloak?” he said to Sarah.

Ves 4

“Has she any others?”

“Of course she has others,” said Sarah curtly, offended at the implicasaid wildly ;

PERKINS OF NEW JERSEY ;

tion that her mnistress’ wardrobe was limited to one wrap.

“Show me the others.”

Sarah proceeded to search, turning up the wardrobe, bureau drawers, and closet shelves in a wild confusion that would have driven Mrs. Marlow frantic. Too anxious to stand still, Marlow joined her.

“ Here!” cried he eagerly, holdtas up amass of drapery.

‘Have done, Master Alex!” eried Sarah, ‘that’s not a dolman; that’s an overskirt. Leave it to me, my dear. These are all she had,” said Sarah at last, producing several wraps.

“Her bonnets,” said the detective, who was a brusque sort of man.

“Being in mourning, she “had but two,” said Sarah, liftmg them from the wardrobe shelf.

The detective surveyed the sombre headgear with their long veils in silence. At last he asked, “Had she a shawl? A large shawl?” —

“To be sure she had,” said Sati, “a large broché shawl that she used about the room when she was sick. It generally lay folded up on this easy chair in the corner, to be handy, and—it’s gone!” cried Sarah, staring

“it’s gone!”

“Did it always stay there?”

“ Always; she was very particular. ‘A place for everything and everything in its place,’ and that was its place.” |

“ Search for it.”

Sarah obeyed, but the shawl could nowhere be found.

“That will do,”

“you may go,”

said the detective,

OR LILI STOLEN? BONDS, It Bh a Hg a nimi ee enimterheniihine hime tllmcraihhandn

- Sarah unwillingly obeyed, muttering to herself, “Proud stomach thing!”

“Mr. Marlow,” said the detective, “your mother has either been kidnapped, or left the house in a fit of mental aberration. Did she ever have such attacks?”

vENvever.”

“Was there anything in her conduct to lead you to suppose she might have one?”

INO

“Then she was kidnapped.”

“TI don’t believe it!” cried Marlow; “the house was shut up tight and fast, how could any one get in? And kidnapped for what?”

“‘Have you no enemies?”

*“* None on earth.”

“Has your mother any valuable jewellery ?”

“Oh, yes, plenty.”

“Then, perhaps, robbers came in and met her. I have heard of such cases.”

“Here are her keys,” said Marlow, taking up her bunch where Sarah had laid them. . “I think ‘she keeps her jewellery case in here.”

He opened a narrow drawer in the wardrobe and drew the case out; forced the lock with his knife, for he could not find the key to it, and opened one after another the little leather cases containing handsome sets.

“Here you see, they have not been meddled with.’’:

“Did she keep large sums of money about her room or person ? ”

“Wo, what little we had was kept qt the bank,” said Marlow, as he replaced the cases and locked them up.

“Then she has voluntarily gone off herself. But whether kidnapped or crazy, she went off wrapped in that shawl, and in the hurry of her flight dropped her slipper on descending the back stairs.”

“T cannot believe that she was either kidnapped or went insane,” said Marlow.

“Then, you can suggest a better theory ?”

“No;” Marlow had no theory to offer, he only felt dazed and horrified.

“She is not here, so she is certainly gone, there is no disputing that,” said the detective, “either of her own will or some one’s else. You may take either horn of the dilemma you choose.”

Seeing he could be of no further use there, the officer left, saying he would notify the police and set them on the watch.

Left to himself Marlow spent the rest of the night wandering from room to room, helplessly peeping under furniture, behind doors, into closets, looking into the most improbable places till the weary night was over.

When the day broke, pale and haggard Marlow sallied forth. He boarded every street car in their neighbourhood and followed it to its terminus, inquiring as he went, but no one had seen any such person. She had disappeared as completely as if the earth had opened and swal. lowed her up.

Gone! Gone! Gone!

What had become of her? |

Chapter III

Tr was high noon when Alex Marlow, haggard, weary, heart-sore, returned from his fruitless trips about the city, and sought the police station to learn what success Appler, the detective, had had. The officer had just come in from a similar unsuccessful trip. The trail which had led him to the back stairs had stopped there ; where Mrs. Marlow had walked off in her one shoe, and who she had gone with was an unsolved mystery.

The servants were above suspicion, for they were both out till long after she had disappeared. It was after eleven before they returned; it was ten o’clock when Mrs. Marlow disappeared after kissing her son. As he thought of that caress now, a lump rose in his throat. Did she thing of leaving him then? he wondered, and where had she gone to? Oh! Great heaven! Where?

“Perhaps she had taken flight at Dorset’s threatening language and fled away. Perhaps she had gone to their Jersey farm. Yes! perhaps she had!” he caught wildly at that straw. He would follow at once—he would take the detective with him. But first he must go and explain to his employers and beg leave of absence. He could not bear to blazen abroad what had happened, so he said that pressing business of a distressing nature would take him away, and Mr. Lynn consented, seeing his haggard looks.

by, the way, Marlow, your father’s old partner was in here this morning inquiring after you.”

To be sure. He had promised to give him a definite answer that day ; he must go there before he left. He hurried round to the broker’s office.

Mr. Dorset sat at the desk in his inner office, and when Marlow tapped at the door, gruffly bade him “come rt a

Mr. Dorset was a dark, grizzly, bilious looking man of forty-five, tall and gaunt; his temper was irritable and his manner, on the least provocation, rough and boisterous. He was not suited for his profession, and. but for the placidity of his former partner, would long since have gone to rack and ruin. As it was, while the partner had saved him from outside sharks, rumour had it that he fattened on him himself. Since his death Dorset had begun to suspect this and to clamour for his share of the profits which had mysteriously disappeared.

“Well,” cried he, at sight of young Marlow, “this is a pretty time of day to come. You said before noon; it is now late in the afternoon.”

“T could not come before, Mr. Dorset,” said the young man. “My mother—” his voice failed him, he stopped abruptly.

“Dead?” said Dorset, a _ little shocked.

Marlow shook his head.

MAb Ee:

Again Marlow shook his head.

{i Crazytes

Marlow made a third negative motion,

ORM THEY STOLEN BONDS,

“Then what in thunder is the matter? What are you standing there for, shaking your head like a crazy idiot? If she ain’t dead, or sick, or crazy, what is the matter ? ”

“She is gone,” said Marlow, hoarsely, too wretched to take offence at the other’s rudeness.

“Gone! Where?”

“JT don’t know.”

“Gone; you don’t know where? Oh, this is too thin! What trick are youallup to now? But I'll not be taken in any more. Where are my bonds? I know your father had them in the bank. It seems he took them out just before his death. Where are they, I say?”

A vague suspicion passed through Marlow’s mind. Could his mother have fled away to look for these bonds, or to hide them if she knew where they were? for she was far more in his father’s confidence than he was.

“T know nothing about any bonds,” he said; “or, indeed, if he had any at the time of his death. If he invested in any he probably sold them and reinvested the money, for I have seen or heard of none.”

“Then what did he do with the money ?”’

“T tell you I know nothing about it. He very likely speculated with it. I knew less of his affairs than you ‘did.”

“That is a poor get off. I shall put the matter in the hands of my lawyer, and at once. Everything has been settled on your mother, so you can notify her if she wont compromise I shal] bring suit for——”

“Notify her ? disappeared—vanished—gone

“Gone where? What has become oh herri4

“God alone knows. Ihave had the police at work all day, and can learn nothing ; I am half distracted.”

““Phoo! phoo!” cried the other, furiously. “You can’t come it over me that way. If she has gone she has made off with the bonds to cheat me out of——’”

Before he finished Marlow dealt him a blow in his mouth that sent him back in his office chair.

Rallying from the shock, Dorset started to rise, his face purple with rage, and the blood spurting from his

I tell you she has eee)

cut upper lip, when a man who had entered from the rear door of the office, and now stood behind him, laid his hand on his shoulder and kept him in his seat.

“Stay, Thomes,”’ he said, quietly, “let him alone; you egged him on; I don’t blame him for striking you.”

“ But I do,” roared Dorset, strugeling to free himself.

“‘Marlow was right,” continued the intruder ; “neither you nor I would have brooked any affront offered to our precious mother.”

Dorset sat in sulky silence, breathing hard, while his brother loosened his grasp, and advancing to Marlow, said :

~“T have heard of your trouble; first a rumour on the street, then from what you said to Thomas just now. Believe me, I feel deeply for you, and hope the mystery will soon be cleared up.”

Tie

-_

“Thank you, Mr. Perkins,” said Marlow ; “she spoke of you so kindly last night.”

“Did she? That was very good of her; she is a woman for whom I have a great esteem. It is probable some temporary aberration has caused her to wander off. Your mother has had much trouble lately, you know.”

“True,” said Marlow. now,’ and without another word to Dorset he walked out in the outer office, Mr. Perkins following him.

“Mr. Perkins,” said he, abruptly, “use your influence with your brother to keep things quiet for the present. After my mother is found perhaps all can be explained without any scandal.”

“T will certainly do all in my power,” said the other, kindly. “And, Alex, let me know of your success in your search; believe me, I take a great interest.”

“J know you do,” said the young man, huskily. “I am going now to Jersey; we’had some talk last night which may haye put it in her head to go there.” |

“Then let me hear from you on your return. Keep me posted; if I can render any assistance call on me.”

“Thanks, thanks,’ said the young man, grasping his hand and hurrying away.

Mr. Perkins stood at the door an watched Marlow till he disappeared from sight. He was very unlike his half-brother ; no one would have. believed they were related. He was a

*“T must go | and slender, with a rather elegant

- air, while his brother was gaunt and shambling. Mr. Perkms’ complexion was fair and pale; he had a high forehead at the expense of his hair, which was so light that it did not show the grey threads that sprinkled it, while his brother’s grizzled black locks grew thick and shagey, save for a little bald spot on the back of his head. Jt looked something like a rough nest with one egg in it. Dorset’s whiskers ran from ear to ear, and he wore an unkempt grizzled mass to match his hair, while Mr. Perkins’ carefully-chpped side-whiskers were the envy of his friends. Withal he was a high-bred looking man, dressing with a neatness that was almost dandified, while Dorset was careless to slovenliness. Mr. Perkins thrust his hands into his poekets; he slowly shook his head as he watched Marlow disappear down the street.

“Well! well! well!’ he muttered, and turned back into Dorset’s office. —

Accompanied by Appler, the detective, Marlow posted down to the farm in Jersey. The more he thought of it the more convinced he was that his mother must be there, and though he travelled by the lightning express it seemed to him that they crept along, so wild was he to get there. They left the train at Waterford, and drove over a mile through the country to the farm. Marlow had only been there in the summer, when all was gay and bright ; how bleak and cold everything looked now! ‘The green man of about fifty ; a fair blonde, tall | meadows were covered with snow, the cows that were wont to graze on them were now lowing in their stables. The fruit trees that he had last seen bowed beneath the weight of their luscious burden, now stretched their bare arms aloft, and trembled in the icy wind.

He shivered as he approached the house. How dismantled it looked! Going around to the back door they rapped, and the man in charge made his appearance. He was unfeignedly surprised to see Marlow, and still more so on his inquiring if Mrs. Marlow was there.

“Mrs. Marlow! What! the madam? No, sir, of course not!”

“He may be put up to hide her. Let us go in,” whispered the detective.

“Tet us come in and warm, Stevens,” said Marlow, watching his face closely.

Stevens’ face was vacant enough, save for surprise, but he admitted them, and led the way to the room where his wife sat by the stove holding her baby.

“Keep the man in conversation,” whispered the detective, going ahead.

“We wish to see Mrs. Marlow,” he said to the woman, as he pretended to warm his hands; “where is she? ”

- “Mrs. Marlow!” she repeated, in astonishment, “why, in town, of course.” |

« She left there last night, and we can’t find her,’ said Marlow, seeing no reason to beat about the bush ; “ond from something she said in her last conversation I thought she might have come here.”