“I hope you’ll speak to your uncle about my nephew, Mr. John. He gets very poor pay where he is.”
“I won’t forget him,” said John, carelessly.
In his heart he thought Thomas Bradley a very low, obtrusive fellow, whom he felt by no means inclined to assist, but it was cheap to make promises.
The reader understands now why Mrs. Bradley made a morning call at Gilbert &; Mack’s store.
She knew at what part of the counter her nephew was stationed, and made her way thither at once. He did not at first recognize her, until she said:
“Good-morning, Thomas.”
“Good-morning, aunt. What brings you here this morning? Any good news for me? Has the old gentleman come around and concluded to do something handsome?”
“Mr. Wharton is not in the city. He has gone to Washington. But that isn’t what I came about this morning. You remember that boy who has been reading to Mr. Wharton?”
“One of our cash-boys. Yes; there he is, just gone by.”
“Well, he has stolen Mr. John’s pocketbook and some jewelry belonging to him.”
“What have you done about it? What does Mr. Wharton say?”
“He’s away from home. He doesn’t know yet. Mr. John gave him a lecture, and ordered him to leave the house.”
“Does he admit that he took the things?”
“No; he denied it as bold as brass, but it didn’t do him any good. There were the things in his trunk. He couldn’t get over that.”
Thomas fastened a shrewd glance on his aunt’s face, for he suspected the truth.
“So you’ve got rid of him?” he said. “What do you propose to do next?”
“Mr. John thinks your employer ought to know that he is a thief.”
“Are you going to tell them?”
“I want you to do it.”
“You must tell them yourself, aunt. I shan’t.”
“Then introduce me to Mr. Gilbert, Thomas, and I’ll do it.”
“Follow me, aunt.”
He led his aunt to the rear of the store, where Mr. Gilbert was standing.
“Mr. Gilbert,” he said, “allow me to introduce my aunt, Mrs. Bradley.”
The housekeeper was courteously received, and invited to be seated. She soon opened her business, and blackened poor Frank’s character as she had intended.
“Really, Mrs. Bradley, I am sorry to hear this,” said Mr. Gilbert. “You think there is no doubt of the boy’s guilt?”
“I am sorry to say that I have no doubt at all,” said the housekeeper, hypocritically.
“Mr. Mack and myself have had a very good opinion of him. He is faithful and prompt.”
“Of course, sir, you will retain him in your employ if you are willing to take the risk, but I thought it my duty to put you on your guard.”
“I am obliged to you, Mrs. Bradley; though, as I said, I regret to find that my confidence in the boy has been misplaced.”
Late in the afternoon, Frank was called to the cashier’s desk.
“I am directed by Mr. Gilbert to say that your services will not be required after to-day,” he said.
“Here are the week’s wages.”
“Why am I discharged? What have I done?” demanded Frank, while his heart sank within him.
“I don’t know. You must ask Mr. Gilbert,” answered the cashier.
“I will speak to him, at any rate,” and Frank walked up to the senior partner, and addressed to him the same question.
“Can you not guess?” asked Mr. Gilbert, sternly.
“I can guess that a false accusation has been brought against me,” said Frank.
“A respectable lady has informed me that you are not honest. I regret it, for I have been pleased with your diligence. Of course, I cannot retain you in my employ.”
“Mr. Gilbert,” said Frank, earnestly, “the charge is false. Mrs. Bradley is my enemy, and wishes me harm. I don’t understand how the things came into my trunk, but I didn’t put them there.”
“I hope you are innocent, but I must discharge you. Business is dull now, and I had decided to part with four of my cash-boys. I won’t pass judgment upon you, but you must go.”
Frank bowed in silence, for he saw that further entreaty would be vain, and left the store more dispirited than at any moment since he had been in the city.