Down the Slope

"That boy has had time to travel twice the distance from Blacktown here," the cashier said impatiently to Fred, and the latter could make no reply, but he in turn was growing very anxious.

"How would it do for me to go and meet him?" he asked finally.

"That is foolish talk," was the petulant reply. "If he doesn't come soon it will be best to send a sheriff's officer."

This remark was well calculated to make Fred yet more nervous. Not for a moment did he believe Sam would do anything dishonest, and yet he should have been back, even in case he had walked home, several hours before.

It was after sunset when the messenger finally made his appearance, and Fred was about to greet him with words of jest, but the expression on Sam's face caused him decided alarm.

"What is the matter?" he asked, anxiously.

"I have been robbed," was the reply, in a hoarse whisper.

"How?"

"I don't know. Coming across the mountain I laid down on the land we wanted to buy, an' I fell asleep. When I awakened the money was gone, an' that is all I know about it."

"Money gone, eh?" the bookkeeper cried. "What did you want to buy land for?"

"That has nothing to do with the loss of the cash," Sam replied as he looked the man full in the face. "I lost the package which was given me at the bank, and have been hunting for it since noon."

"It will make considerable difference, as you'll find out before this thing is cleared up," and the cashier moved toward the door as if to prevent the boy from leaving the building. "Why not tell the truth, and say you stole the money?"

"Because I didn't do anything of the kind."

"Tell that to the marines, for you can't make me believe it. Thieves don't loaf around the mountain."

"They must have done so in this case, for I walked nearly back to Blacktown, and should have found the package if it had fallen from my pocket."

"Then where is it?"

"I don't know."

"Fred, go for a constable."

The cashier yet remained by the door, and now he held it open a few inches that his order might be obeyed.

"Please don't do a thing like that," Fred cried, while Sam stood near the desk pale as death, but every action breathing defiance.

"Do you think I'll let a boy steal eight hundred dollars, and do nothing toward recovering it?"

"Wait until Mr. Wright comes back and see what he thinks."

"And in the meantime he or his accomplice will have had plenty of time in which to carry the cash beyond our reach."

"But I am sure that what he tells is the truth."

"I don't believe a word of it. Such a thing never happened before, and the thief sha'nt go free now if I can prevent it."

Fred was about to plead yet further for his friend, but the cashier checked him by saying:

"Another word in his behalf and I shall believe you know something of this very mysterious robbery. Will you go for the constable?"

"No, I won't move a step from this place until Mr. Wright comes back."

This show of friendship was not sufficient to save Sam from the ignominy of an arrest. The cashier had hardly ceased speaking when one of the miners made an attempt to enter the store, and the angry official sent him for the guardian of the peace.

"You'll have a chance to go back to Blacktown, and it may be that you will find the money on the way," he said, in a tone of irony.

Sam made no reply. Silent and motionless he awaited the coming of the officer.

CHAPTER XX

THE ACCUSED

Not for a moment did Fred believe it possible Sam had done anything dishonest in regard to the money, and yet it seemed very singular that he could have been robbed without knowing when the deed was committed.

He had no opportunity to speak privately to the accused boy, because of the strict watch maintained by the cashier, but he remained very near him, as if eager to show confidence in his innocence.

From the time the miner had been sent in search of an officer not a word was spoken. Now and then Sam glanced at his friend as if to ask that his story be credited, and the accuser kept a strict watch over every movement.

There was no parley when the officer arrived, his duty was to take the prisoner away, and he did so in a matter-of-fact manner which aroused all of Fred's anger.

"It wouldn't do him any harm to say he knows you ain't a thief," he whispered, "but never mind, old fellow, Bill an' Joe shall come to see you."

"Believe I've told the truth, an' that is enough for me," Sam replied, with a choking sob. "Tell the folks at home about it, but try to make 'em know I never stole a dollar."

Fred promised to do this, and would have accompanied his friend to the depot but for the cashier, who said, sternly:

"I insist on your remaining here. A large amount of money is missing; you boys have got a secret between you, and it may have some connection with the robbery. I will not allow you to talk with the prisoner."

"Do as he says, an' don't have any row," Sam added.

"I'll stay here," was the reply, "and when Mr. Wright gets back we'll see what he's got to say about it."

"It's time for the train," the constable interrupted.

"Go on quickly, Sam, before a crowd gathers."

Fred gazed after the accused until he was lost to view in the distance, and then turned away with a heavy heart.

The cashier had nothing more to say about the robbery, but he found plenty of work for the boy to do, much as if wishing to keep him in sight until Mr. Wright came home.

It was half-past eight when the last train arrived and the superintendent was not on it.

Fred should have been home two hours before, and his mother, always in fear of an accident since the explosion, came in search of him.

To her the story of Sam's misfortune was told, and she at once demanded a private interview with the cashier.