Burnham Breaker Part 36

"There's no doubt as to who the boy is. If you've come here to give me any information on that point, your visit will have been useless. His ident.i.ty is well established."

"Yes? Well, now I have the good-fortune to know all about that child, and if you are laboring under the impression that he is a son of Robert Burnham, you are very greatly mistaken. He is not a Burnham at all."

Sharpman looked at the young man incredulously. "You do not expect me to believe that?" he said. "You certainly do not mean what you are saying?"

There was a noise in the outer room as of some one entering from the street. Sharpman did not hear it; he was too busily engaged in thinking. Rhyming Joe gave a quick glance at the room door, which stood slightly ajar, then, turning in his chair to face the lawyer, he said deliberately and with emphasis:--

"I say the boy Ralph is not Robert Burnham's son."

For a moment Sharpman sat quietly staring at his visitor; then, in a voice which betrayed his effort to remain calm, he said:--

"What right have you to make such a statement as this? How can you prove it?"

"Well, in the first place I knew the boy's father, and he was not Robert Burnham, I a.s.sure you."

"Who was he?"

"Simon Craft's son."

"Then Ralph is--?"

"Old Simon's grandchild."

"How do you happen to know all this?"

"Well, I saw the child frequently before he was taken into the country, and I saw him the night Old Simon brought him back. He was the same child. The young fellow and his wife separated, and the old man had to take the baby. I was on confidential terms with the old fellow at that time, and he told me all about it."

"Then he probably deceived you. The evidence concerning the railroad disaster and the rescue of Robert Burnham's child from the wreck is too well established by the testimony to be upset now by such a story as yours."

"Ah! let me explain that matter to you. The train that went through the bridge was the express. The local was twenty minutes behind it.

Old Simon and his grandchild were on the local to the bridge. An hour later they came down to the city on the train which brought the wounded pa.s.sengers. I had this that night from the old man's own lips.

I repeat to you, sir, the boy Ralph is Simon Craft's grandson, and I know it."

In the outer room there was a slight noise as of some person drawing in his breath sharply and with pain. Neither of the men heard it.

Rhyming Joe was too intent on giving due weight to his pretended disclosure; Lawyer Sharpman was too busy studying the chances of that disclosure being true. It was evident that the young man was acquainted with his subject. If his story were false he had it too well learned to admit of successful contradiction. It was therefore of no use to argue with him, but Sharpman thought he would see what was lying back of this.

"Well," he said, calmly, "I don't see how this affects our case.

Suppose you can prove your story to be true; what then?"

The young man did not answer immediately. He took a package of cigarettes from his pocket and offered one to Sharpman. It was declined. He lighted one for himself, leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and began to study the ceiling through the rings of blue smoke which came curling from his nostrils. Finally he said: "What would you consider my silence on this subject worth, for a period of say twenty-four hours?"

"I do not know that your silence will be of material benefit to us."

"Well, perhaps not. My knowledge, however, may be of material injury to you."

"In what way?"

"By the disclosure of it to your opponent."

"What would he do with it?"

"Use it as evidence in this case."

"Well, had you not better go to him?"

Rhyming Joe laid his cigarette aside, straightened up in his chair, and again faced the lawyer squarely.

"Look here, Mr. Sharpman," he said, "you know, as well as I do, that the knowledge I hold is extremely dangerous to you. I can back up my a.s.sertion by any amount of corroborative detail. I am thoroughly familiar with the facts, and if I were to go on the witness-stand to-morrow for the defendant in this suit, your hopes and schemes would vanish into thin air. Now, I have no great desire to do this; I have still a friendly feeling left for Old Simon, and as for the boy, he is a nice fellow, and I would like to see him prosper. But in my circ.u.mstances, as they are at present, I do not feel that I can afford to let slip an opportunity to turn an honest penny.

"If a penny saved is a penny earned, Then a penny found is a penny turned."

Sharpman was still looking calmly at his visitor. "Well?" he said, inquiringly.

"Well, to make a long story short, if I get two hundred dollars to-night, I keep my knowledge of Simon Craft and his grandson to myself. If I don't get two hundred dollars to-night, I go to Goodlaw the first thing to-morrow morning and offer my services to the defence. I propose to make the amount of a witness fee out of this case, at any rate."

"You are attempting a game that will hardly work here," said Sharpman, severely. "You will find yourself earning two hundred dollars for the state in the penitentiary of your native city if you persist in that course."

"Very well, sir; you have heard my story, you have my ultimatum. You are at liberty to act or not to act as you see fit. If you do not choose to act it will be unnecessary for me to prolong my visit. I will have to rise early in the morning, in order to get the first Wilkesbarre train, and I must retire without delay.

"The adage of the early bird, My soul from infancy has stirred, And since the worm I sorely need I'll practise, now, that thrifty creed."

Rhyming Joe reached for his hat.

Sharpman was growing anxious. There was no doubt that the fellow might hurt them greatly if he chose to do so. His story was not an improbable one. Indeed, there was good reason to believe that it might be true. His manner tended to impress one with its truth. But, true or false, it would not do to have the statement get before that jury. The man must be detained, to give time for further thought.

"Don't be in a hurry," said Sharpman, mildly; "let's talk this matter over a little more. Perhaps we can reach an amicable understanding."

Rhyming Joe detected, in an instant, the weakening on the lawyer's part, and increased his audacity accordingly.

"You have heard my proposition, Mr. Sharpman," he said; "it is the only one I shall make, and I must decline to discuss the matter further. My time, as I have already intimated, is of considerable value to me."

"But how can you expect me to decide on your proposition without first consulting my client? He is in Wilkesbarre. Give us time. Wait until morning; I'll go down on the first train with you."

"No, I don't care to have Old Simon consulted in this matter; if I had cared to, I should have consulted him myself; I know where he is.

Besides, his interest in the case is very small compared with yours.

You are to get the lion's share, that is apparent, and you, of course, are the one to pay the cost. It is necessary that I should have the money to-night; after to-night it will be too late."

Sharpman arose and began pacing up and down the room. He was inclined to yield to the man's demand. The Burnham suit was drawing rapidly to a successful close. If this fellow should go on the witness-stand and tell his plausible story, the entire scheme might be wrecked beyond retrieval. But it was very annoying to be bulldozed into a thing in this way. The lawyer's stubborn nature rebelled against it powerfully.

It would be a great pleasure, he thought, to defy the fellow and turn him into the street. Then a new fear came to him. What would be the effect of this man's story, with its air of genuineness, on the mind of so conscientious a boy as Ralph? He surely could not afford to have Ralph's faith interfered with; that would be certain to bring disaster.

He made up his mind at once. Turning quickly on his heel to face his visitor, he said:--

"I want you to understand that I'm not afraid of you nor of your story, but I don't want to be bothered with you. Now, I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll give you one hundred dollars in cash to-night, on condition that you will leave this town by the first train in the morning, that you'll not go to Wilkesbarre, that you'll not come back here inside of a year, and that you'll not mention a word of this matter to any one so long as you shall live."

The lawyer spoke with determined earnestness. Rhyming Joe looked up at the ceiling as if in doubt.

Finally, he said:--

"Split the difference and call it even, A hundred and fifty and I'll be leavin'."