Aunt Jane's Nieces at Work

"I've been bothered already over your election campaign," resumed the manager, arranging his papers in a bored manner. "Some girl has been here twice to interview my men and I have refused to admit her. You may as well understand, sir, that I stand for the Democratic candidate, and have no sympathy with your side."

"That doesn't interest me, especially, sir," answered Kenneth, smiling. "I'm not electioneering just now. I've come to talk with you about young Gates."

"Oh. Well, sir, what about him?"

"I'm interested in the boy, and want to save him from prosecution."

"He's a forger, Mr. Forbes; a deliberate criminal."

"I admit that. But he's very young, and his youth is largely responsible for his folly."

"He stole my money."

"It is true, Mr. Marshall."

"And he deserves a term in state's prison."

"I agree to all that. Nevertheless, I should like to save him," said Kenneth. "His trial has not yet taken place, and instead of your devoting considerable of your valuable time appearing against him it would be much simpler to settle the matter right here and now."

"In what way, Mr. Forbes?"

"I'll make your money loss good."

"It has cost me twice sixty dollars in annoyance."

"I can well believe it, sir. I'll pay twice sixty dollars for the delivery to me of the forged check, and the withdrawal of the prosecution."

"And the costs?"

"I'll pay all the costs besides."

"You're foolish. Why should you do all this?"

"I have my own reasons, Mr. Marshall. Please look at the matter from a business standpoint. If you send the boy to prison you will still suffer the loss of the money. By compromising with me you can recover your loss and are paid for your annoyance."

"You're right. Give me a check for a hundred and fifty, and I'll turn over to you the forged check and quash further proceedings."

Kenneth hesitated a moment. He detested the grasping disposition that would endeavor to take advantage of his evident desire to help young Gates. He had hoped to find Mr. Marshall a man of sympathy; but the manager was as cold as an icicle.

Beth, uneasy at his silence, nudged him.

"Pay it, Ken," she whispered.

"Very well, Mr. Marshall," said he, "I accept your terms."

The check was written and handed over, and Marshall took the forged check from his safe and delivered it, with the other papers in the case, to Mr. Forbes. He also wrote a note to his lawyer directing him to withdraw the prosecution.

Kenneth and Beth went away quite happy with their success, and the manager stood in his little window and watched them depart. There was a grim smile of amusement on his shrewd face.

"Of all the easy marks I ever encountered," muttered Mr. Marshall, "this young Forbes is the easiest. Why, he's a fool, that's what he is. He might have had that forged check for the face of it, if he'd been sharp. You wouldn't catch 'Rast Hopkins doing such a fool stunt. Not in a thousand years!"

Meantime Beth was pressing Kenneth's arm as she sat beside him and saying happily:

"I'm so glad, Ken – so glad! And to think we can save all that misery and despair by the payment of a hundred and fifty dollars! And now we must find the girl."

"Yes," replied the boy, cheerfully, "we must find Lucy."

CHAPTER XI

A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE

A woman was sitting in a low room, engaged in knitting. Her feet were stretched out toward a small fire that smouldered in an open hearth. She wore a simple calico gown, neat and well-fitting, and her face bore traces of much beauty that time and care had been unable wholly to efface.

Suddenly she paused in her work, her head turned slightly to one side to listen.

"Come in, sir," she called in a soft but distinct voice; "come in, miss."

So Kenneth and Beth entered at the half-open porch door and advanced into the room.

"Is this Mrs. Rogers?" asked Beth, looking at the woman curiously. The woman's eyes were closed, but the lashes fell in graceful dark curves over her withered cheeks. The girl wondered how she had been able to know her visitors' sex so accurately.

"Yes, I am Mrs. Rogers," said the sweet, sad voice. "And I think you are one of the young ladies from Elmhurst – perhaps the one Will talked to."

"You are right, Mrs. Rogers. I am Elizabeth DeGraf."

"And your companion – is it Mr. Forbes?" the woman asked.

"Yes, madam," replied Kenneth, astonished to find Will's wife speaking with so much refinement and gracious ease.

"You are very welcome. Will you please find seats? My affliction renders me helpless, as you may see."

"We are very comfortable, I assure you, Mrs. Rogers," said Beth. "We have come to ask if you have heard anything of your daughter."

"Not a word as yet, Miss DeGraf, Will is out with the horse and buggy doing his best to get information. But Lucy has been gone so long now that I realize it will be difficult to find her, if, indeed, the poor girl has not – is not – "

Her voice broke.

"Oh, you don't fear that, do you, Mrs. Rogers?" asked Beth, quickly.

"I fear anything – everything!" wailed the poor creature, the tears streaming from between her closed lids. "My darling was frantic with grief, and she couldn't bear the humiliation and disgrace of her position. Will told you, didn't he?"

"Yes, of course. But it wasn't so bad, Mrs. Rogers; it wasn't a desperate condition, by any means."

"With poor Tom in prison for years – and just for trying to help her."

"Tom isn't in prison, you know, any more," said Beth quietly. "He has been released."

"Released! When?"