_ CHAPTER XXX. BERT OBTAINS AN IMPORTANT CLEW
Mr. Harding was not a literary man, and his papers would hardly have been of any value to a publisher. They consisted principally of letters, some of them ten years old. It seemed to have been a habit of Ralph Harding to keep his letters, though he probably set no great value upon them.
Bert opened fifteen or twenty, and glanced over them, only to find that they related to matters in which he felt no interest whatever. He began to doubt whether they were even worth the small sum he had paid for them, when all at once he made a discovery. He found a letter dated Lakeville.
"Who can have written him from Lakeville?" he asked himself, and naturally turned the page to read the signature.
His heart beat quickly when he read the name of the writer--Albert Marlowe. It was dated about two years previous, and ran as follows:
DEAR SIR: I have received your letter, and am surprised
that you should have the boldness to write to me for money.
I am sorry to hear that you have been in bad luck, but I
presume it is your own fault. You are able to earn good
wages, and ought to pay your own way without depending
on anybody. Look at me! I was once a common workman like
you, but, thanks to my energy and enterprise, I am now
the owner of a large factory, and able to live in
comparative luxury. I don't know why you should expect
me to support you. I have a family of my own to care for,
and my first duty is to them.
You intimate that you are in possession of a secret which,
if made known, will injure me. I suppose I know what you
mean. I don't think, however, that you will find any one
to believe what you may say to my disadvantage, and I
warn you to be careful what you do, or I may testify that
you yourself took the missing bonds. Don't trouble
yourself to write to me again, for it will be time thrown
away.
ALBERT MARLOWE.
Underneath the signature were a few lines, evidently written by Ralph Harding:
Who would believe that the writer of this letter is a thief, and that the capital on which he started in business was stolen? I bitterly repent that I was induced to join in the plot against poor Barton. He--poor fellow--is in exile, afraid to return to his own country, while the man who committed the crime which has shadowed his life, is rich and prosperous, and holds up his head in society. And I--miserable tool that I was--by my testimony helped him to fasten the crime on an innocent man. I don't know whether it will do any good to write again. I am a poor man, and Albert Marlowe is rich. He will defy me, and perhaps swear that I was implicated in the robbery myself. So I was, alas! for I accepted a bribe of two hundred dollars for my part in the matter. I wish I could see poor Barton righted! Bert read this letter with flushed face and beating heart. Here was proof positive that his father was innocent; and Albert Marlowe, the rich manufacturer, the magnate of Lakeville, was guilty not only of robbery, but, what was even more contemptible, had schemed successfully to throw the guilt upon an innocent man, the husband of his cousin. Through him John Barton had suffered a ten-years' exile, and had been deprived for that time of his good name and the society of his family.
"I wouldn't take a thousand dollars for this letter," said Bert to himself in exultation. "I don't know what it amounts to in the eyes of the law, but I am sure it is valuable. Now, if I could only find Ralph Harding himself."
Bert continued his search among the letters, and finally found one postmarked Peoria, Illinois, which appeared to have been received by Ralph Harding about a week before he left Harrisburg.
This is an extract therefrom:
It is five years since I have seen you. This is a long separation considering that we two are the only ones left of the family. If you are in your old business as I infer from your letter, why can't you get work just as well here in Peoria as in Harrisburg? There is a large shop here, where I think you would not have any difficulty in securing employment. I presume as good wages are paid here as at the East. We have a small room which you could occupy, and it would be pleasant for a brother and sister who have been so long separated to find themselves under the same roof.
My husband is a carpenter, as you know. His earnings are not large, and he doesn't always have work, but we have a little sum saved up which we can fall back upon in time of need. I can't lend you any money, and indeed you ought not to expect it, as you are a single man, and have no one to take care of but yourself. I am afraid you are not a very good manager. Come to Peoria, and I will see if I can't help you save money. Consider what a position you would be in if you should fall sick.
Your affectionate sister,
HELEN CLIFTON.
Underneath, in Ralph Harding's handwriting, was this brief indorsement:
All true, every word of it! Helen was always prudent and a good manager. It is true, as she says, that there are but two of us. Why shouldn't I go to Peoria, and see her? There was no more; but as Ralph Harding a week later left Harrisburg, it seemed fair to infer that he had adopted his own half-expressed intention, and gone to Peoria, to see his sister, especially as there seemed a good chance of his obtaining work there in his own line.
"Peoria!" repeated Bert thoughtfully. "The chances are that Ralph Harding went there from Harrisburg, and it is very probable that he is there now. I wish I could find some one that could tell me about the place."
"Mr. Pearson," he said, when he met the associate manager at rehearsal, "can you tell me anything about Peoria?"
"Yes," answered the actor. "What do you want to know about it?"
"How large a place is it?"
"About the size of Harrisburg. I don't believe there is a thousand difference in the population."
"Is it far from here?"
"A matter of six or seven hundred miles, I should think, perhaps a little more. It is southeast of Chicago. Why do you want to know?"
"I want to find a man who, I have reason to think, is now living there. I may have to leave the company, as it is very important for me to find this man."
"There will be no occasion for you to leave the company. When we leave Harrisburg, we jump to Chicago, and probably three weeks from now we shall be playing in Peoria. It is on our list of places, and is a very good city for a short engagement. Will that be soon enough?"
Bert hesitated. If he remained with the company, his expenses would be paid out to Peoria, and he would be earning fifteen dollars a week besides.
"Come, now, don't hesitate!" said Mr. Pearson. "We shouldn't know how to get along without you."
Naturally this pleased Bert, and helped to fix his resolution.
"I don't know but I can wait two or three weeks," he said slowly, "if you are sure we shall play at Peoria."
"I am certain of it. The route was made up this morning. We are having some new bills printed in which your name is substituted for that of Bob Hazleton. So you see, my boy, you will be getting a reputation under your own colors."
This had its effect, for Bert felt that he should like to have a bill of the play in which his own name appeared. Otherwise he might find his friends incredulous as to his having actually been upon the stage. Later in the day he gave his promise that he would go with the company when they left Harrisburg, but would not sign an engagement for any definite time, as he did not wish to put any obstacle in the way of his following any clew that might lead to the discovery of Harding.
"Well, Mr. Barton," said Mrs. Stubbs after supper, "did you find anything of value in that box of papers?"
"Yes; I obtained some information that will probably be of value. Besides it gave me a clew to his present residence."
"Indeed," said Angelica, who was present, "where is he?"
"In Peoria, Illinois. He has a married sister living there."
"Shall you go out West to find him?"
"I expect to go with the company. They will play an engagement in Peoria."
"If you see Mr. Harding, please remember me to him. Say--that is, you may hint that I still think of him with interest, and--and hope he will some day return to us."
"That message ought to bring him, Miss Angelica."
"Of course I only think of him as a friend, but we were very congenial, and it is not often that one meets a congenial spirit."
"Why not send a letter to Mr. Harding by me?"
"I--that is; mamma, do you think it would be proper?" asked Angelica with bashful hesitation.
"I don't know why not," answered Mrs. Stubbs promptly. "You might ask in the letter when it will be convenient for him to pay his board bill."
"Oh, ma, how unromantic!"
"It may not be romantic, Angelica, but it's business," said the practical mother.
Miss Stubbs did write the letter, but it is certain she did not mention the board bill in it. _