Grit or The Young Boatman of Pine Point 23

Grit or The Young Boatman of Pine Point 23

"You are very quixotic in your ideas," said Courtney coldly.

 

"I am sure I am right, at any rate," returned Graves firmly.

 

"I consider your refusal unfriendly--nay, more, I think it is calculated

to throw suspicion on my financial position."

 

"Not at all. I have no reason to doubt your financial stability, and as

to the unkindness, when I distinctly state that I would not ask such a

favor for myself, you will see that I am disposed to treat you as well

as myself."

 

"It may be so," sneered Courtney, "but I presume you are not at present

in need of a personal loan, and--circumstances alter cases, you know."

 

"If you mean that I shall at any future time ask favors for myself,

which, I am not disposed to grant to you, you are mistaken," said the

president.

 

"My financial position is as strong as yours," said Courtney rather

irrelevantly.

 

"Very probably you are a richer man than I am, but as I said, that is

not in question."

 

At this point a servant entered, and said to the president:

 

"Mr. Graves, there is a boy outside who says he wants to see you."

 

"What boy is it?"

 

"Grit Morris."

 

"Very well; you can bring him in."

 

"The young boatman," said Courtney contemptuously. "I wouldn't allow a

boy like that to take up my time."

 

"He may have something of importance to communicate. Besides, I don't

set so high a value on my time."

 

This will illustrate the difference between the two men. Mr. Graves was

pleasant and affable to all, while Mr. Courtney was stiff, and

apparently always possessed of a high idea of his own importance and

dignity. In this respect, his son Phil was his counterpart.

 

Into the presence of these two gentlemen Grit was admitted.

 

"Good morning, Grit," said the president pleasantly. "Take a seat.

Margaret tells me you wish to see me."

 

"Yes, sir, I wish to see you on a matter of importance."

 

"Perhaps he wants a loan from the bank," suggested Mr. Courtney

scornfully.

 

"If Grit wanted a loan, he would not need to apply to the bank," said

Mr. Graves, in a friendly manner. "I would lend him, myself."

 

"Thank you, Mr. Graves," said Grit gratefully, "but I don't wish any

loan for myself. My business relates to the bank, however."

 

Both gentlemen were rather surprised to hear this. They could not

understand what business Grit could have with the bank.

 

"Go on, Grit," said Mr. Graves. "Mr. Courtney is one of our directors,

so that you may speak freely before him."

 

"I understand," commenced Grit, coming at once to the point, "that you

are intending to send up thirty thousand dollars in government bonds to

the Merchants' Bank, in Boston."

 

Mr. Graves and Mr. Courtney looked at each other in surprise. This was a

bank secret, and such matters were generally kept very close with them.

 

"How did you learn this?" asked the president, in surprise, "and if so,

what can you have to say in regard to it?"

 

"Perhaps he wants to be the messenger," said Mr. Courtney, with a

derisive smile.

 

Grit took no notice of this, for his mind was occupied with the plan of

the would-be robbers.

 

"I will tell you at once," he said. "There is a plan to waylay the

messenger, and relieve him of the bonds."

 

Here was a fresh surprise. Mr. Graves began to find Grit's communication

of absorbing interest.

 

"How do you know this?" he asked cautiously.

 

"Because I overheard the robbers discussing their plan."

 

"You say the robbers. Then there are more than one?"

 

"Yes, there are two."

 

"Are you willing to tell me who they are, Grit?"

 

"That is what I came to tell you. I am sorry to say that one is my

stepfather, as I am obliged to call him, Mr. Brandon."

 

"Mr. Brandon? I thought he was----" Here Mr. Graves paused, out of

delicacy.

 

"He has been in prison until a few days since," said Grit, understanding

what the president of the bank intended to say, "but now he is free."

 

"And where is he?"

 

"He is living at our house. Since he got back, he has given my mother

and myself a great deal of trouble. Not content with living on us, he

has spent what money he could get at the tavern, and because I would

give him no more, he sold my boat without my knowledge."

 

"That was bad, Grit. To whom did he sell it?" asked Mr. Graves.

 

"To Mr. Courtney's son Phil!" answered Grit.

 

"My son's name is Philip," said Mr. Courtney stiffly.

 

"We boys generally call him Phil," said Grit, smiling. "However, that

doesn't matter."

 

"My son had a right to purchase the boat," said Mr. Courtney.

 

"I have nothing to say as to that, at any rate now," returned Grit. "I

only mention it to show how Mr. Brandon has treated us."

 

"Who was the other conspirator, Grit?" asked Graves.

 

"A companion of Mr. Brandon's, named Travers. I understand they are to

be employed by a third person, now staying at the hotel, a man named

Johnson."

 

"One thing more, Grit, how did you come to hear of their plan?"

 

Grit answered this question fully. He related how he had overheard the

conference between his stepfather and Travers in the afternoon.

 

"This information is of great importance, Grit," said the president.

"If, as you say, there are three conspirators, there would be a very

good chance of their succeeding in overpowering any messenger, and

abstracting the bonds. As it happens, the bonds do not belong to the

bank, but to an individual depositor, but it would be very unpleasant

and mortifying to have them taken from our messenger. It might lead to a

supposition on the part of some that we didn't keep our secrets well,

but suffered a matter as important as this to become known outside. Mr.

Courtney, what would you advise to be done in such an emergency?"

 

Courtney always looked important when his advice was asked, and answered

promptly:

 

"It is a very simple matter. Put the messenger on his guard. Supply him

with a revolver, if need be, and if he is on the watch he can't be

robbed."

 

Mr. Graves looked thoughtful, and appeared to be turning over this

advice in his mind.

 

"If Mr. Courtney will excuse me," Grit said, "I think there is a better

plan than that."

 

Courtney's lip curled.

 

"Ask the boy's advice, by all means, Mr. Graves," he said, with a

palpable sneer. "It must be very valuable, considering his experience

and knowledge of the world."

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XXIII.

 

GRIT GIVES IMPORTANT ADVICE.

 

 

"Let me hear your idea, Grit," said Mr. Graves courteously.

 

"I have little experience or knowledge of the world," said Grit, "as

Mr. Courtney says, or means to say, but it occurs to me to ask whether

you have full confidence in your messenger?"

 

"Of course we have," said Mr. Courtney. "What foolish idea have you got

in your head?"

 

"Tell me why this question occurs to you, Grit?" asked the president.

 

"I thought it possible that this Colonel Johnson, who employs the

conspirators, as you call them, may have learned from the messenger that

he was to be entrusted with a valuable package of bonds."

 

"Why on earth should the messenger reveal this news to a stranger?"

demanded Mr. Courtney sharply.

 

"Because," said Grit quietly, not allowing himself to be disturbed by

the sneering tone of the ex-president, "he might be well paid for doing

so."

 

"Nonsense!" said Mr. Courtney, but the president of the bank said

thoughtfully:

 

"There may be something in that."

 

"I am sure the messenger is faithful," asserted Mr. Courtney positively,

but it may be remarked that his confidence sprang rather from a desire

to discredit Grit's suggestion than from any real belief in the

integrity of the bank messenger.

 

"It isn't best to take this integrity for granted in a matter where a

mistake would subject us to serious loss," observed President Graves. "I