Freaks of Fortune Part 10

replied Levi, as he led the way to the cabin.

"Don't let Vincent go into the cabin," said Mr. Watson, in a whisper.

Levi promptly informed the officer that Captain Vincent must not go below.

"I want him to help me," persisted Constable Cooke.

"Captain Vincent can't go into my cabin. If he attempts to do so, I'll throw him overboard!" added Levi, rolling up his coat sleeves.

"I've a right to call in aid accordin' to law," said the officer, angrily.

"You shall not call him in," protested Levi.

Mr. Watson spoke,--he had money, and the constable was afraid of him,--and the matter was compromised. One of the other men went with the officer, who proceeded directly to Levi's state-room. The desk was opened, the lockers examined, and the drawers searched. In one of the latter, a shot-bag, With ten half eagles in it, was found.

"That's one of the bags!" almost yelled the constable, in the fury of his malignity.

"I never saw it before," said Levi, quietly, "nor the gold it contains."

"I have a warrant for your arrest, Levi Fairfield; and sence you showed fight on deck, I shall put the handcuffs on you."

[Ill.u.s.tration: LEVI IN IRONS.--Page 96.]

Mr. Watson and the ladies were shocked and alarmed; but not one of them for a moment doubted the innocence of Levi, who suffered himself to be ironed without resistance.

CHAPTER IX.

THE EXAMINATION.

Constable Cooke put the irons on the wrists of Levi Fairfield, not from a sense of duty, but with a keen relish for the act itself. It is but justice to the officer, prejudiced though he was, to say that he was entirely sincere in the belief that his prisoner had stolen the miser's gold. He was needlessly rough and severe in the discharge of his duty, and the irons were a gratuitous indignity. Mr. Watson protested vigorously against the constable's useless display of authority. Bessie was frightened and terribly grieved by the harsh treatment bestowed upon her ideal of a hero.

Levi himself was the only person in the cabin who was calm. His quiet dignity was unruffled by the insults heaped upon him, and he looked proudly conscious of his innocence.

"What does all this mean?" demanded Mr. Watson, when Levi had been effectually ironed, so that he could not tear the constable and his a.s.sistant to pieces, as they seemed to fear he would.

"I do not know, sir," replied Levi, shaking his head, with a smile.

"I think it is all clear enough, Mr. Watson," interposed Constable Cooke.

"I don't think it is," replied Mr. Watson, sharply. "You have found a shot-bag with ten five-dollar gold pieces in it. What does that prove?"

"It proves that Levi stole the money just as clear as the sun proves it's day."

"Is it anything surprising that the captain of a yacht has fifty dollars in gold in his state-room?"

"I don't know's 'tis, but it's sunthin surprisin' that he should have one of the bags the old man kept his money in, in his state-room," said the officer, with a sneer.

"How do you know that is one of the bags?"

"How do I know?" repeated the constable, taking the bag from his pocket. "Mr. Fairfield told me he writ his name on all the bags. There it is."

The bag was exhibited, and over the imprint of the manufacturers of the shot it had originally contained was the name, "N. Fairfield," rudely traced in large, awkward characters, in pencil, on the cloth. Levi saw it, and the formation of the two capital letters a.s.sured him it had been written by his uncle. The bag was found in one of his drawers; but it was plain that "an enemy had done this."

"If that don't satisfy you, Mr. Watson, I don't know what will. This ain't pleasant business, but I can't help it," added Constable Cooke, who perhaps had begun to think it was imprudent to offend a rich man.

"That doesn't satisfy me," replied the obstinate merchant. "Do you suppose Levi put that bag and the gold into the drawer?"

"I suppose he did, sir. That's his state-room--isn't it?"

"There are half a dozen places there with locks on them. Do you think he would put his money into a drawer without any lock upon it?"

"I don't know anything about that," answered the constable, who could not help seeing that the argument was a good one. "I've got a warrant for his arrest."

"Did you know the money was there before you came on board?" demanded Mr. Watson, warmly.

"I supposed it was there."

"What made you suppose so?"

"I was told it was there."

"Who told you so?"

"I don't know as I'm obliged to tell you who told me," replied the officer.

"I don't know that you are, either; but some of you shall be indicted for conspiracy if you don't answer. You came on board with a warrant in your pocket for the arrest of Captain Fairfield. You expected to find the gold here, you say. Somebody told you it was here, and that somebody knows more about it than the person you have arrested and put in irons," continued the merchant, indignantly.

"You know why I put him in irons. Didn't he threaten to throw one of us overboard?" replied the constable.

"When officers take graduates of the state prison to a.s.sist them in the discharge of their duties, they must expect some opposition."

"But Captain Vincent is acting for Mr. Fairfield, who's too sick to do anything himself," pleaded the officer, who could not help seeing that Dock was not a proper person to aid him in the performance of his duty.

"I'll take the bracelets off, if you say so."

"I do say so, most emphatically!" added Mr. Watson.

Constable Cooke removed the irons, stepping between Levi and Bessie to do so.

"So long as you and your father do not believe I am guilty of any crime, I don't care for the irons or the prison," said Levi, cheerfully. "I am rather glad of an opportunity to vindicate myself, for I have no doubt there are some people who think I took my uncle's money."

"But it is so terrible to be sent to prison, and to be ironed!" added Bessie, her pretty face full of tender sympathy.

"Not at all. As I view it, the guilt is the only thing that is terrible. This may lead to the discovery of the real thief."

"Levi, have you any idea how that bag came in your state-room?" asked Mr. Watson.