Luck and Pluck

"Fool that I was! Why did I not make all sure by burning it?"

CHAPTER XXXII.

MRS. OAKLEY'S SUSPICIONS

The sudden disappearance of the will struck Mrs. Oakley with dismay. It threatened her with the loss of two-thirds of her estate. But she was not a woman to bear it in silence. She possessed a fund of energy, and lost no time in seeking to determine the important question, "Who had taken it?"

She descended at once to the kitchen, where she found Hannah setting the table for supper.

"Hannah," she said, abruptly, "have you been upstairs to my chamber this afternoon?"

"No, ma'am," said Hannah.

"Think a moment," said her mistress, sternly; "have you not been up?"

"No, ma'am, I haven't. I told you so once," said Hannah, not altogether pleased with the doubt implied by the second question.

"Has any one called here since I went away?" asked Mrs. Oakley.

"No, ma'am."

"Then there has been no one in the house excepting yourself?"

"No one except Master Ben."

"Ben!" repeated Mrs. Oakley, in a changed voice. "When did Ben come home?"

"About an hour ago,—maybe an hour and a half," said Hannah.

"He is not here now."

"Isn't he, ma'am? I suppose he went out, but I didn't hear him."

"You are quite sure no one else has been in the house?" inquired her mistress.

"Certain sure, ma'am."

Mrs. Oakley went upstairs slowly. A new idea had forced its way into her mind. It must be that Ben had taken both the money and the will. That he should have taken the first didn't surprise her, for with all her love for her son, she had small confidence in his honesty. No doubt he had got into debt, and so was tempted to appropriate the bills. But why should he have taken the will? That was something she could not understand. For the money she cared little comparatively. But the loss of the will was ruin, if John or his friends found it, or, if not, she would live in perpetual fear of their discovering it.

"If I once get hold of it again," she said to herself, "I will take care that all danger from that source shall end and forever. Ben will never divulge its existence, of course. He will understand that it affects his interests too nearly."

She waited in nervous excitement for Ben's reappearance.

At length his step was heard—never more welcome than now.

Ben entered, feeling rather nervous also.

"Has mother found out?" he thought.

"Good-afternoon, mother," he said, with apparent unconcern. "Is supper most ready? I'm awful hungry."

"I want to speak to you a moment, Benjamin," said his mother. "Will you come upstairs?"

"Now for it," thought Ben.

"Can't you speak here just as well?" he said. "I'm tired."

"I would rather have you come upstairs," said Mrs. Oakley.

"Just as you say," said Ben; "but I don't see why you can't talk just as well down here."

Mrs. Oakley led the way to her own chamber. Ben followed, feeling, it must be confessed, not altogether comfortable. This feeling was not diminished when his mother closed the door carefully. She turned and confronted him.

"You have been to my bureau-drawer, Ben," she said, eying him fixedly.

"I don't know what you mean," said Ben.

"You came home about two hours ago, didn't you?"

"Yes, I came home then," said Ben, knowing that it would be of no use to deny what could be proved by Hannah's testimony.

"You came up to this chamber, found my keys on the table, and opened the upper drawer of my bureau."

"Did you see me do it?" asked Ben, feeling confident that he was accused on suspicion merely.

"No, but—"

"Doesn't Hannah pretend that she saw me?"

"No."

"Lucky for her she doesn't. If she did she'd lie," said Ben, glad to find out so much.

"Do you mean to deny that you came up here?" asked Mrs. Oakley.

"Yes, I do. It seems to me you're mighty quick in suspecting me," continued Ben, with an air of injured innocence. "But what's all the fuss about? Have you missed anything?"

"Yes," said his mother, "I have met with a serious loss. But, Benjamin, it is very important that I should clearly understand who did or did not take it. Will you assure me upon your honor that you did not take anything from my bureau?"

"Of course I will," said Ben, who felt that he was in for it, and must stick stoutly to the lie at all hazards. "But you haven't told me what you lost."

Mrs. Oakley turned pale with consternation. She had depended upon Ben's proving the real culprit, in which case she could require restitution, at any rate, of the will.

"I lost a sum of money," she said,—"a hundred and twenty dollars."

"Whew!" said Ben. "That was a loss."

"But that was not all. There was besides a—a document of importance, for which I cared more than the money."