The Tin Box, and What it Contained

From time to time he put his hand on the inside pocket in which he hadplaced the bonds, to make sure of their safety, for no one knew betterthan he that there were dishonest persons to be met with who werewilling to appropriate valuables belonging to others.

It was some time since he had been so well off as he would be when hehad converted these bonds into money. Indeed, all the summer long he hadbeen short of funds, or he would not have spent so long a time in acountry village, which to him was dull and afforded him a small fieldfor his peculiar talents.

Arriving in New York, Congreve took his way to Wall Street. Here it wasthat he expected to get rid of the bonds, or, rather, exchange them forgreenbacks.

In this street brokers' and bankers' offices abound, and all negotiablesecurities readily find a purchaser. He stepped into an office nearlyopposite the opening of New Street, and, approaching the counter, said, as he drew out his bonds:

"What are you paying for government sixes?"

"Let me see the date," said the clerk. He spread open the bonds, andthen answered: "One hundred and fifteen and three-eighths."

"Very well," replied Congreve. "I will sell them."

The clerk took them and stepped to the desk, to make an entry of thepurchase.

"What name?" he asked, turning to Congreve.

"John Baker," said Congreve, with momentary hesitation.

For obvious reasons, he thought it best not to mention his own name, astrouble might possibly come from the possession of the bonds.

"Shall I give you a check?" was the next question.

"I would prefer the money," answered Congreve.

"Go to the cashier's window, and he will attend to you."

"Not much trouble about that," thought Congreve, complacently, when hewas startled by a voice at his elbow.

"How are you, Congreve?"

Looking around hastily, he saw a hand extended, and recognized a youngman who had at one time been a fellow-boarder with him in FourteenthStreet. It is safe to say that James Congreve wished him anywhere elseat that most unfortunate time.

"Hush!" said he, in a subdued whisper; "I will speak to you outside."

He hoped the clerk had not heard the name by which he had beenaddressed; but he hoped in vain. The latter, pausing in his writing, came to the counter and said:

"Didn't this gentleman call you Congreve?"

"Yes," admitted Congreve, uneasily.

"You just gave your name as John Baker."

"Oh, no! That is, I didn't say my name was John Baker. That is thegentleman for whom I am selling the bonds."

"Then they do not belong to you?"

"No."

"Where does Mr. Baker live?"

"In New Haven," answered Congreve, glibly, for he had a readyinvention.

"We do not care to buy," said the clerk, coldly, for there was somethingin Congreve's manner which made him suspicious.

"Really," said Congreve, laughing in a constrained manner, "you appearto be very cautious."

"We have to be."

"Shall I tell Mr. Baker it will be necessary for him to come to New Yorkin person to dispose of his bonds? He is my uncle, and I simply am doinghim a favor in disposing of them."

"Very possibly; but I think we won't purchase them."

"Oh, well! I can carry them elsewhere," said Congreve, raging inwardly.

His acquaintance, whose recognition had interfered with his plans, followed him to the door, in rather a perplexed frame of mind.

"Where have you been all summer, Congreve?" he asked, thinking it bestto ignore the scene which he had just witnessed.

"None of your business," answered Congreve, sharply.

"What does this mean?" asked the young man, in astonishment.

"It means, sir, that I do not wish to keep up my acquaintance with you. Didn't you know any better than to blurt out my name just now, and soget me into trouble?"

"If you are ashamed to appear under your real name, I don't care to knowyou," answered the young man, with spirit. "So, good-morning to you, Mr. Congreve, or Mr. Baker, or whatever else you call yourself."

"Good riddance," said Congreve.

"There's something wrong about that fellow," said Tom Norcross tohimself, as he looked after Congreve, while the latter was crossing thestreet. "I don't believe he came by those bonds honestly. His manner wascertainly very suspicious."

Congreve entered another banking house, and here he had no difficulty indisposing of his bonds. He came out with two hundred and thirty dollarsin his pocket, and feeling less irritable than before.

"So that's done," he said to himself, "and I am well provided with moneyfor the present. Now I must make up for lost time, and try to enjoymyself a little. I was nearly moped to death in that dull countryvillage, with no better company than a young snob. Now to see life!"

First of all, Congreve installed himself at a fashionable boarding houseuptown. Then he purchased a seat for the evening's performance atWallack's Theater, and then sought out some of his old companions inhaunts where he knew they were likely to be found. He had a few games ofcards, in which his luck varied. He rose from the card table a loser inthe sum of twenty-five dollars.

"That is unlucky," thought Congreve. "However, I've got two hundreddollars left. I must be more cautious, or my money won't last long."

Still, he felt in tolerably good spirits when he went to the theater, and enjoyed the performance about as much as if his pleasures werebought with money honestly earned.

It so happened that the clerk at the first banking house who had refusedto purchase the bonds sat two rows behind him, and easily recognized hiscustomer of the morning.

"I suspect Mr. Baker, alias Congreve, has disposed of his bonds," hethought to himself. "I am really curious to know whether he had anyright to sell them."

From time to time this thought came back to the clerk, till he formed aresolution quietly to follow Congreve, after the close of theperformance, and ascertain where he lived.

Congreve, seated in front, was not aware of the presence of the clerk, or he might have taken measures to defeat his design.