Читать книгу The Mystery of Cleverly - Barton George Aaron - Страница 6

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Herbert Harkins prepared to go to bed that night with a very heavy heart. He could not rid himself of the notion that he was the cause of the troubles that were gathering so rapidly about their home. Sleep is said to be the best medicine for a troubled mind; but unfortunately Herbert was not able to go to sleep. Usually he was in the land of dreams as soon as his head touched the pillow, but this night he was afflicted with a peculiar nervousness that could not be overcome. More than this he was greatly disturbed over the agitated condition of his father. He knew that he was sitting at his desk in the front room downstairs. He had spoken to him when he came home, and now from the light that was shining up the stairway he knew that his father was still awake. Presently he heard the movement of a chair, and then the steady tramping of feet indicating that Mr. Harkins was walking up and down the room.

Suddenly this monotonous sound was broken by a sharp rap on the front door. Herbert heard his father respond to the summons. The bolt was drawn back, the door opened, and then came a sound like the cry of recognition from two men. The door was softly closed again, and then came the steady mumbling of voices. This continued so long that Herbert became frightened. He got out of bed in the dark, and going into the hallway crept downstairs silently, step by step, until he had reached the doorway leading into the parlor. The light was turned down and the room was quite dim; but he could see his father and another man seated at a table engaged in earnest conversation. The stranger wore a full beard, and his head was covered with a great shock of red hair, in much disorder. The two men were so much engaged that they did not notice the half frightened boy standing near the doorway. Herbert on his part was so much interested in what he saw that for the time being he forgot the situation in which he had placed himself.

At times the two men were so close together that it would hardly have been possible to have drawn a sheet of paper between them. The stranger, in order to illustrate some point that he was making in his talk, threw his arm violently in the air, and in doing so overturned a little China ornament that was on the table, sending it crashing to the floor. Both men started violently at this unexpected happening, and then glanced nervously around the room as if to see whether anyone were listening. At the first sound of the falling ornament, Herbert started to run upstairs; but when the conversation was resumed some strange power seemed to draw him back to the doorway again. His intention was to take one last look and go away. He knew that he had no right there, and that his father might be very angry if he thought that he was out of bed and listening to the conversation; but some strange will over which he appeared to be powerless, kept him rooted to the spot. The two men talked in such a low tone at first that all he could hear was the mumbling of voices. Presently, however, his father becoming more earnest, said excitedly to the other man in a louder voice:

“I won’t do it. I tell you I can’t do it. It’s not right to you.”

“Don’t be a fool,” responded the red-haired man in a deep bass voice. “This will save you, and it cannot do me any harm. I’ll never miss it, I can assure you.”

“But it seems so unjust,” urged his father; “it doesn’t seem quite square to act with you in this way. After all these years I should not be placed in the position of taking this from you.”

“I am the best judge of that,” growled the other man in his heavy voice; “take it and say no more about it.”

As he spoke he pushed a package in the direction of Mr. Harkins, who still with reluctance, picked it up and placed it in his pocket. This act seemed to relieve his feelings, because he said right away in a voice that sounded lighter and more contented:

“Well, I guess it is all for the best. I’ll take it, and you can rest assured that you’ll lose nothing by your kindness.”

Their voices became lower again at this point, and Herbert, sorry for having remained so long, hurried back to bed and was soon in the land of slumber. Father, mother and son met at the breakfast table the next morning, and all seemed to be in a more cheerful frame of mind than they had been for some days. Mr. Harkins was bubbling over with good spirits. He turned to his wife in a laughing manner, and said:

“I’ve got a surprise for you this morning—a bit of good news that will make you feel good.”

“What is it?” asked the wife curiously.

“Simply that I have the money and I am going to pay off that obligation to John Black before the clock strikes another hour.”

The poor woman was so overjoyed at this unexpected news that she ran over and gave her husband a hearty kiss.

“This is good news, David,” she said. “How on earth did you manage to raise the money in such a short time?”

“Oh ho!” he replied merrily; “it’s news you are after, is it? Well you can’t have it just now. This money came from a gentleman who is a very good friend of mine. His name will have to remain a secret for the present at least.”

Herbert sat and listened to this conversation with a feeling of dismay. He felt like crying out and telling his father that he had been present at the mysterious midnight interview and had heard things that were not intended for his ears; but his lips refused to frame the words, and he sat there feeling very mean and very guilty. Finally both conscience and curiosity got the better of him. He made up his mind to confess his little indiscretion—for it was not anything more serious than an indiscretion—and then to ask his father to tell him the name of the strange man who had appeared at such an unusual hour and under such unusual circumstances. Mr. Harkins had his hat and coat on preparing to leave the house when Herbert arose from the table and said to him in a voice that quivered with nervousness:

“Father, I could not sleep last night.”

“I am very sorry to hear that, my son,” was the kindly reply. “Probably you are not feeling well. You had better stop in and see Dr. Smith on your way from school this afternoon.”

“No, no; it’s not that,” stammered Herbert; “it’s something I want to tell you. When I found that I could not sleep I got out of bed—”

“I am in a hurry now, Herbert,” exclaimed his father, talking very rapidly and moving towards the door. “I must get down and see Mr. Coke. You can tell me this story when you come home from school this afternoon.”

And the next moment the street door closed with a bang and Mr. Harkness was on his way to the bank. Herbert sat down in a chair feeling very much disappointed. He felt somehow or other that his father had become involved, and if he had been able to speak, that much mystery might have been dissipated.