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By Passion Driven: A Story of a Wasted Life

Chapter VIII

page 49

Chapter VIII.

Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt;
Nothing's so hard but search will find it out.

The day after Harry's detective duty at the Post Office, the letter he had seen Lane take from the box was replaced there. It bore no evidence of having been opened, so that no opportunity was given him to say anything on the subject.

Days grew into weeks, weeks became months, and months threatened to accumulate into half-a-year at least, still no tidings were received of any result to the investigations being made into the fradulent order for wheat made in the name of White, Shaw, and Co., of Melbourne.

One evening Mr. Bruce was surprised to receive a visit at his private house from his manager.

Small had been at the office in the evening, and, opening the letters received by the Northern mail, discovered one from a correspondent of the firm in Auckland replying to a second request for a cheque which was payable some weeks previously; with the intimation that the cheque had been sent, and a receipt returned that week. This knowledge Small felt it his duty to impart to his employer without delay: hence his present visit.

Coming on the top of the discovery in connection with the Melbourne fraud, this was most unwelcome news to Mr. Bruce.

page 50

His house had hitherto been particularly free from anything of this sort, but now to find not “single spies,” but “battalions” of these occurrences was the reverse of agreeable. He could not help connecting this as a most unfortunate omen for his nephew's prospects. These troubles had followed closely on the heels of Harry's entrance into the office, and were in some degree connected with the department in which he was engaged. For some moments after realising the position of this last discovery, Mr. Bruce sat lost in thought. Small, too, gave way to silence, and engaged in a consideration of the case. The merchant was the first to speak.

“Why! Small, this seems to be a more serious offence than the other?”

“It is, indeed, sir.”

“Have you any suspicions on the subject?”

“None whatever; I'm really at a loss what to think.”

“Have you questioned any of the clerks? But of course you cannot, having only got the letter to-night.”

“That is all; nor would I know how to act.”

“Whose duty is it to clear the post box?” enquired Mr. Bruce, quietly.

“Your nephew Harry, sir, has the only key besides mine.”

“And before him it was in the possession of Lane, was it not?” continued Mr. Bruce.

“Yes, that is so. Lane surrendered it to Harry.”

“Has there been anything worthy of note in Lane's conduct since my nephew displaced him?”

Small replied to the effect that for some weeks Lane had not been so punctual in his attendance at the office, and that he fancied there was something about his conduct which indicated that he must sometimes forego a large portion of his proper nightly sleep.

After a brief conference between the merchant and his page 51 manager it was arranged that the former should make some personal enquiries into the matter, and that meanwhile Small should keep silent on the subject. Whereupon the latter wished his employer “Good night,” and Mr. Bruce accompanied Small to the door in order to avoid making his visit known to Harry.

For some considerable time after Small's departure Mr. Bruce occupied his chair in apparent idleness, but he was actively thinking over the revelation just made to him, and considering how best to set about his enquiries.

Then he rang the bell, and asked that his nephew be sent to him.

On Harry's entrance his uncle greeted him kindly, and said he wished a few minutes' conversation on the subject of the office.

Harry took a seat opposite his uncle's table, and the latter addressed him at once—

“Harry, a valuable letter to the firm has miscarried since you got possession of the key of the post box. Can you suggest any possible explanation of it?”

Thus directly appealed to, Harry saw that he could not conceal the knowledge he had gained of Lane's possessing a key. He, therefore, told his uncle what had occurred, and of his discovery of Lane's visit to the post box.

This was confirmatory of Mr. Bruce's suspicions. He was glad to find any doubts of his nephew's innocence thus speedily dispelled.

What was to be done? Was Lane the instrument of both crimes? “Clearly nothing must be done rashly. There must be little doubt of his clerk's guilt before making any accusation against him.

That night Mr. Bruce did not obtain much sleep. For hours he lay awake thinking what course was best to pursue—wondering what these discoveries would lead to. page 52 As usual, imagination took full sway and played some fantastic tricks with his thoughts. He pictured himself the accuser, and Lane the accused, and visions of Courts of Justice and criminal trials floated across his mind. Half dreaming, half thinking, he spent the greater part of the night on the borderland between consciousness and oblivion, which leaves both mind and body exhausted rather than refreshed by the hours spent in bed. While the wronger doubtless slept peacefully and well, his victim was a prey to all kinds of distracting thoughts. Conscience makes no impression on the one, while imagination acts as a dreadful demon to the other.

Mr. Bruce did not reach his office next morning until considerably after the usual hour. Immediately he was seated in his private room, he called for his manager, and interrogated him as to whether any fresh discoveries had been made on the subjects which had disturbed the even current of the business of Bruce and Co.

Small had not learned anything further.

“Is Lane in the office?”

“Yes, but he was again late this morning.”

“You had better send him to me. I'll speak to him.”

“I think, sir, it would be well for some further enquiries to be made before you speak to him. You are not yet in a position to prove anything; and if he denies all, he may be able to do further mischief before we can bring this home to him.”

“Perhaps you are right, Small. Had we not better see the police on the subject?”

“Yes, sir, that would be wise. I think, however, that you should see the Inspector yourself.”

Mr. Bruce adopted this suggestion of his manager, and as soon as he had disposed of his correspondence, he had an interview with the Inspector of Police. The Auckland page 53 firm were written to for the receipt which had been forwarded on behalf of Bruce and Co.

This proved to be a letter of only ten or twelve words, merely acknowledging receipt of the cheque. On comparing it with the different handswriting of his clerks, Mr. Bruce was astonished to find that it more nearly resembled his nephew's than any other. Could it be possible that, after all, Harry was the culprit?

These doubts completely unnerved Mr. Bruce, and paralysed the vigorous efforts he otherwise would have made to get at the truth. If his nephew were to be proved a forger and a thief, he must avoid enlisting outside aid in the process. He would rather lose ten times the amount than have the world know his confidence had been abused by a relative. His feelings towards Harry had strengthened as his acquaintance ripened, and now he regarded him in the light of a son for whom he would do anything in his power. If his sister's child was guilty of this wrong, he was bad in every respect, and was playing a part of the deepest hypocrisy and criminality,—so deep indeed, that Mr. Bruce looked upon it as impossible in one so young and inexperienced. With pride and satisfaction the merchant had seen in his relative evidences of great shrewdness and ability, but withal he did not, and could not, credit him with the cleverness and knowledge of the world necessary to have planned and executed the frauds he was investigating. Circumstances, however, seemed to point to him, and he was at a loss to explain their bearing in the light of his nephew's innocence.

In the midst of all these doubts and perplexities he took the best possible course to turn Harry from the career of a criminal, if, indeed, he were embarking on that rough sea. He called him in and spoke to him quietly and openly, disclosed to him the facts which pointed to him as the page 54 guilty party, and told him he expected open and unreserved confidence and truth.

Then it was that Harry told his uncle all that he knew of Lane's conduct—that he feared Lane was in the habit of spending his nights in company the reverse of desirable. Harry denied all knowledge of the letter acknowledging receipt of the cheque from Auckland, and Mr. Bruce believed implicitly from his manner that his nephew was speaking the truth. The only explanation he could arrive at, therefore, was that Lane had copied Harry's handwriting with the view to throw suspicion on him, and so escape the imputation himself.

Mr. Bruce determined to make what enquiries he could as to Lane's course of life, and with this object in view he instructed Detective Fane to watch the movements of his clerk for some evenings, and to report from time to time as to how and in what company he spent his nights.