CHAPTER XVIII.

THE MYSTERY OF THE CHECK.

“I will go with you to the bank, and see that you get your money, Wolf,” said Waddie.

“What does your father think about the boat?”

“I don’t know. It is impossible to tell what he thinks about anything of this kind. If he had known of it in season, he would not have permitted us to ask the major for the use of the Ruoara. He would have let the Ucayga rot in the sand before he would have done it.”

“Major Toppleton stands first rate, just now,” I added.

“He would make up, I think, if my father would.”

We discussed the matter on our way to the bank, and both of us were hopeful that some good would come out of the event of the day. The bank was closed; but the cashier was in the room, at work upon his books and papers. I handed him my check. Waddie requested him to pay it, and then walked into another room.

“I paid a pretty large check in your favor to-day, Captain Penniman,” said he, with a smile, as he took the one I gave him.

“In my favor!” I exclaimed, confounded by the statement, and rather inclined to think he was quizzing me.

“Yes; ten thousand dollars.”

“You don’t mean so!”

“Certainly I do,” answered the cashier, very good-naturedly, I thought, considering that there was a suspicion of something wrong about the matter.

“I think you are joking, sir.”

“Not at all. I am entirely serious,” he added, still smiling.

I was not intimate enough with the bank officer to be on joking terms with him; but the persistent smile he wore, after I had intimated that I knew nothing about the check, seemed to indicate that he did not mean what he said. I had destroyed the check which Colonel Wimpleton gave me, and of course it was not possible that the cashier had paid it. I was quite sure that I had burned the valuable paper, and even scattered the tinder after it had been destroyed.

“Am I to understand, sir, that you paid a check for ten thousand dollars in my favor?” I demanded, rather warmly.

“That is precisely what I did,” answered the cashier, squarely.

“And to me?”

“Certainly not to you in person.”

“Who presented it?”

“Van Wolter.”

“What, the mate of the Ucayga--or rather the captain?” I continued, beginning to be somewhat excited.

“No; to his son--Nick Van Wolter,” replied the cashier, who obstinately persisted in being calm, and in wearing a smiling face, notwithstanding my conduct must have convinced him that something was wrong.

“I can only say that somebody has been swindling you.”

“O, no, I think not. Of course I should not pay such a large sum to a young man like Nick Van Wolter without making sure that there was no mistake. I took the check to Colonel Wimpleton, who told me it was all right, ordered me to pay it, and say nothing about it to any one,” replied the official, whose name was Barnes, with a very significant smile.

“It’s a fraud, sir!” I protested, vehemently.

“Please don’t speak so loud. Waddie is in the directors’ room, and may hear you. I understood, from what Colonel Wimpleton said, that this affair was to be private between you and him.”

“Private! But I tell you I sent no check, and I have not seen the money,” I replied.

“You need not be afraid of me, Captain Penniman. The secret is safe with me. Nick said you sent him because you did not wish any one to know that the colonel paid you so much money.”

“I don’t understand you, sir. I have never spoken a word to Nick about a check, much less sent him to cash one for me. I tell you there is something wrong about this business.”

“What’s the matter;” demanded Waddie, returning to the banking-room. “Can’t you pay the check, Mr. Barnes?”

“Certainly, Waddie; there is no trouble about that. We were speaking of another matter,” answered the cashier. “Here is the evening paper.”

Waddie took the paper, and returned to the directors’ room.

“I do not see how there can be anything wrong about the business, when Colonel Wimpleton declared that the check was good, and ordered me to pay it.”

“But I say, sir, so far as I am concerned, the business is all wrong. I had nothing whatever to do with it, and don’t know anything about it.”

“Let me ask you one question: Did or did not Colonel Wimpleton give you a check for ten thousand dollars?” continued Mr. Barnes, who had begun to be a little perplexed himself.

“He did, but--”

“Very well; and I paid it.”

“No, sir; you did not. I burned the check, and took pains to scatter even the ashes of it. I don’t understand it, sir.”

“I don’t know that it makes any difference whether you understand it or not. You acknowledge that the colonel gave you a check for ten thousand dollars. I have paid one for that amount, in your favor, and the colonel examined the check, and declared that it was all right.”

“That may satisfy you, but it does not satisfy me,” I added.

“It is plain enough, Captain Penniman, that your relations with our friend the colonel are disturbed. He is as careful to conceal the existence of this check as you are. It seems to me nothing more need be said about it. The secret is safe in my keeping, for I do not even enter your name on the books of the bank. The check is cancelled, and will be returned to Colonel Wimpleton on the first of the month, when I balance his account.”

“Mr. Barnes, do you regard me as a liar?” I demanded, indignantly.

“Certainly not.”

“Then I say again, that I have sent no check to the bank, and I have not received the money you paid.”

“That is your lookout.”

“Will you let me see the check?”

“Of course.”

He took the paper from a drawer, and handed it to me. There was no doubt in my mind that it was a genuine check. The truth suddenly flashed upon me. This was the first check which Colonel Wimpleton had drawn at the hotel; the one which had disappeared, and for which I had made such diligent search in and around the house. I came to the conclusion at the time that the magnate had torn it up with the pledge I had written, though I had been unable to find any of the pieces.

“Do you understand it now?” asked the cashier.

“I am beginning to have an idea,” I replied, returning to him the cancelled check. “Where may I see you again this evening, sir?”

“At my house,” he replied, indicating the locality of it.

I was afraid to detain Waddie any longer, and unwilling to intrust him with his father’s secret. We walked down to the wharf together, and there I parted with him. He assured me that on the next morning I should be called to the command of the Ucayga again.

I got into my skiff; but I could not go home with the mystery of the check unsolved; and I sat on the thwart, considering the circumstances connected with it. I recalled all the events of my visit to Grass Springs. I had left the check on the table with the paper I had written. The colonel tore up the latter, and threw the pieces out the window, while I was walking back and forth in the room. I then followed him to the bar-room, where he had procured a glass of brandy. He wished to go to the Horse Shoe, and insisted that I should accompany him. Happening to think of the check, I returned to the room for it, but could not find it. I told the colonel that it had disappeared, and I went out doors to see if I could identify any of the pieces. While I was looking for them I met Nick Van Wolter. When I returned to the colonel, he had drawn up the second check.

Nick was at the hotel while I was in the room with the drunken magnate. He told me he had spoken with the landlord about my patient. Therefore he had been in the house. It was possible, and subsequent events rendered it probable, that he had gone into the colonel’s chamber while we were at the bar. Seeing the check upon the table, he had taken it. This was the only theory I could devise to explain the mystery. But all this could, perhaps, be demonstrated, and I decided to see Nick at once. I hastened to his father’s house. On my way I could not help recalling Waddie’s strong saying, that Nick was a snake.

I knocked at the door, and Mrs. Van Wolter answered the summons; but she informed me that her son had gone up to Hitaca by the afternoon boat. He expected to obtain a situation there as clerk in one of the hotels, and had taken all his clothes with him. If I wanted him, she would send for him. I left the house. If Nick had obtained ten thousand dollars, he would not be likely to stay long in Centreport. I walked excitedly to the house of the cashier; but he had not yet returned from the bank, and I sought him there.

“Well, captain, have you obtained any light?” he inquired, as I entered.

“Yes, sir; I have. Nick Van Wolter is a thief and a swindler!” I replied, warmly.

“The loss comes on you, and not on the bank,” added the prudent man of money.

“It can hardly come on me, since I never had the money to lose, though that makes but little difference. Something must be done.”

“Have you seen Colonel Wimpleton?”

“No, sir; I have not. As you suggested, our relations are disturbed,” I replied.

“He is at home this evening, and you certainly ought to inform him of the facts in this case. But I cannot see how, if he gave you a check for ten thousand dollars, and you destroyed it, that same check could have been presented at the bank to-day for payment,” said Mr. Barnes, with a significant smile. “It seems to me utterly impossible.”

“It was not the same check. Colonel Wimpleton will understand that part of the story, if you do not. I do not feel at liberty to explain it; he may, if he pleases. I will write a note to him, if you will give me pen and paper.”

The cashier gave me a seat at his desk, and I wrote a full statement of what I had done with the check he had given me, adding that Nick Van Wolter had stolen the one paid that day. I told him I had no desire to disobey his commands, and would not have done so under any other circumstances. I concluded by saying that, if the money was to be used at all, it belonged to me. I should consider that Nick had stolen it from me, and I should have him arrested. I proposed to pursue him, in the absence of any directions from the colonel. I should be at the bank for half an hour, and would receive his answer there, if he wished to make any reply. The cashier sent the letter by the porter to the house of the magnate.

“They say you are going to have the command of the steamer again, Captain Penniman,” said Mr. Barnes, after the messenger had gone.

“I don’t know about that; I don’t think so myself.”

“Van Wolter don’t make out very well.”

“He will do very well indeed, except in the Horse Shoe Channel. I think he is a first-rate man, obliging and reliable. I am sorry his son is not more like him.”

“He is more like his mother than his father. There has been a great deal of talk about Colonel Wimpleton lately,” added the cashier, evidently intending to lead the conversation into that channel.

Fortunately for me,--for I was not willing to be questioned in regard to my relations with the great man,--the messenger returned very soon, and delivered a note to me. Eagerly I opened it, and found only a single line: “I will see you in my library immediately.” This was entirely satisfactory, and I hastened to his house.