Adventures of a Telegraph Boy or 'Number 91'

“Can I speak with you a minute in private, Mrs. Granville?” she said with a significant glance in Paul’s direction.

“Certainly, Mrs. Mercer. Paul, you may go out and put up the horse.”

“It’s coming,” thought Paul.

“Well, what is it, Mercer?” asked the old lady, as she led the way into her own chamber.

“It’s about that boy, ma’am.”

“About Paul?”

“Yes, ma’am. I know you think him an angel.”

“Well, not quite that, Mercer,” smiled Mrs. Granville.

“At any rate, you think a great deal of him.”

“Yes, I do.”

“I never liked him for my part,” continued the housekeeper, spitefully. “I always distrusted him. I thought him a snake in the grass.”

“Come, Mercer, that’s rather a heavy indictment of the poor boy.”

“I can prove all I say, ma’am,” said the housekeeper. “I thought you were wrong in trusting him.”

“What has he done? Come to the point.”

“You see this, ma’am,” said Mrs. Mercer, producing a breast pin set with pearls.

“Yes, it is mine.”

“Where do you think I found it?”

“Suppose you tell me.”

“In the boy’s bureau drawer, while you were out.”

“How did you happen to be examining his drawer?” asked the old lady, sharply.

“Because from things I have noticed I suspected he meant to rob you. I didn’t expect to find that, I confess, but I did think I should find something. This favorite of yours is nothing but a thief.”

“You may call him, Mrs. Mercer. It is only fair to hear what he has to say for himself.”

Mrs. Mercer needed no second bidding. She hurried to the stables and found Paul occupied in unharnessing the horses.

“Frost,” she said, “just finish unharnessing the horses. Mrs. Granville wants to see this young gentleman.”

Frost obeyed with unwonted alacrity, and Paul quietly followed the housekeeper into the house. He was not particularly alarmed, for he had already put a spoke in the housekeeper’s wheel, though she was quite unaware of it.

“Has Mrs. Granville an errand for me to do?” he asked, suppressing a smile.

“You’ll find out what she wants of you,” returned the housekeeper, tossing her head. “Young man, your course is about run!”

“Is it?” asked Paul, innocently.

He followed Mrs. Mercer into Mrs. Granville’s chamber. The old lady was sitting in her arm chair by the window.

“I’ve brought him, ma’am,” said Mrs. Mercer. “Now you can find out for yourself what a viper he is.”

“Paul,” said the old lady, mildly, “Mrs. Mercer tells me she found this breast pin in your bureau drawer. Do you know anything about it?”

“No, ma’am,” answered Paul, not betraying the slightest confusion.

“Of course he would say so,” remarked the housekeeper.

“Yet, Mrs. Mercer says she found it in your drawer.”

“What was she doing there?” asked Paul.

“Tracking a thief!” answered Mrs. Mercer, spitefully.

“She charges you with stealing the breast pin from my room, Paul.”

“Yes, I do; how did it get into your drawer unless you stole it? Answer me that, Mr. Paul Parton.”

“I suppose you put it there,” returned Paul, calmly.

Mrs. Mercer held up both hands in indignant protest. “Did you ever hear the likes, ma’am?” she ejaculated. “He’s a thief, and unfit to stay in your house.”

“Excuse me, Mrs. Mercer,” said Paul, quite coolly, “but didn’t you arrange this little plot against me last evening in conversation with your son?”

“What do you mean?” ejaculated the housekeeper.

“I happened to be in my room, and overheard you.”

“Do you believe this impudent lie, Mrs. Granville?” the housekeeper asked, desperately.

“I have reason to believe Paul,” answered the old lady, “for this breast pin, which you say you found in Paul’s room during my absence, I distinctly remember leaving in my own bureau drawer when I left the house this afternoon.”

Mrs. Mercer was panic stricken. She turned to leave the room, quite overwhelmed, but Mrs. Granville called her back.

“Stay, Mrs. Mercer,” she said, “I have something to say to you.”

CHAPTER XXXV

PAUL RETURNS TO NEW YORK

The housekeeper turned at the bidding of her mistress, and gazed at her in apprehension, waiting for her to speak.