Bernard Brooks' Adventures: The Experience of a Plucky Boy

“I am puzzled about him,” said Bernard. “He doesn’t look in the least like a literary man, or a professor.”

“That’s so.”

“Then I find he is intemperate. I haven’t been able to learn anything about his business, or studies, but he is fond of whisky. Do you know, Jack, I don’t believe I shall be content to stay with him very long.”

“Is he a friend of your guardian?”

“I suppose so.”

“Are you to get any pay?”

“Twenty-five dollars a month and my expenses.”

“That is good – if you get it.”

“Don’t you think I will?”

“I don’t think you’ll get it any more than my mother got her interest.”

“Then I certainly shall not stay with him.”

“But what can you do? You will be in Europe.”

“I don’t know, Jack, but I think I shall get along somehow.”

“To my mind your guardian had some object in putting you with such a man.”

“Perhaps so, but I may be doing Mr. McCracken an injustice.”

“If ever you get into trouble, Bernard, don’t forget that Jack Staples is your friend. I have got a few dollars stowed away in a bank at home, and they are yours if you need them.”

“I will remember it, Jack, and thank you, whether I need them or not.”

A day or two later something happened that made Bernard still more suspicious of his guardian and Professor Puffer.

CHAPTER XVI. A SCRAP OF PAPER

Bernard was in the stateroom one day during the absence of Professor Puffer, when he noticed on the floor a fragment of paper, looking like a portion of a letter with writing upon it. He picked it up and mechanically read the words which it contained.

The paper had been torn irregularly across, so that it contained no complete sentence. The words it did contain arrested his attention. This is a transcript of them:

the boy in my way.
Would like to get rid
don’t bring him back to
your discretion.

Bernard could not doubt that the reference was to him, and that the letter of which this was a fragment had been written by his guardian, as a document of instruction to Professor Puffer. It was clear that the professor was an agent of Mr. McCracken, and that the latter was anxious to get him out of the way.

But how? How much danger was involved in this unfriendly disposition of his guardian? Again, why did he want to get rid of him? These were questions which Bernard found himself unable to answer.

It was clear, however, that his engagement as private secretary was only a subterfuge in order to get him under the charge of Puffer, who was evidently no professor at all. It seemed an elaborate and clumsy device on the part of Mr. McCracken, but Bernard must take things as he found them, and form his own plans accordingly.

He wished he could have seen the whole letter, as the additional information it contained might help him to a decision. One thing, however, seemed evident: that it would be wise to part company with Professor Puffer as soon as practicable after he reached Europe. On the ship it was policy for him to continue the companionship, and leave the professor ignorant of the discovery he had made.

Bernard considered whether he had better communicate the contents of the scrap of paper to any one on board. On the whole, it seemed wise, in case anything should happen. There was not one of the passengers whom he felt like taking into his confidence.

Dr. Felix Hampton had no thought except for his bilious tonic, and Bernard doubted if he was a man of discretion. Nelson Sturgis was probably reliable, and seemed friendly, but, upon the whole, Bernard preferred to intrust the secret to Jack Staples. He was an humble friend, but a man to be trusted. He therefore took the earliest opportunity of speaking to Jack.

“I’ve got something to show you, Jack,” he said, when he found the sailor alone.

“All right, lad. What is it?”

“This scrap of paper.”

“Do you want me to give you my opinion of your handwriting?”

“It isn’t my handwriting.”

“Whose then?”

“To the best of my knowledge, it is the handwriting of my guardian, Cornelius McCracken.”

Jack studied the paper, and then asked quietly: “Where did you find this, lad?”

“In my stateroom. It was dropped, no doubt, by Professor Puffer.”

“So I surmised. You think it was written to him by your guardian?”

“Yes; I think there can be no doubt of that. Now, what do you think it means, Jack?”

“It means mischief,” said Jack sententiously. “It was written by one rascal to another. Of course, by ‘the boy’ he means you.”

“Yes.”

“And he wants to get rid of you?”

Bernard nodded.

“If we had the whole letter we could see into this thing better. How did he expect that professor fellow to get rid of you?”.

“That’s the question I’ve been asking myself, but I can’t answer it.”.

“What do you think of doing, lad?”

“I shall leave the professor as soon as I get a chance.”

“Yes, that’s sensible.”