Ben's Nugget; Or, A Boy's Search For Fortune Read online

  Orton Campbell threw himself back in his chair and eyed Jones. He hadformed a plan, but, if possible, he wanted the proposal to come fromJones.

  Jones was not over-scrupulous; he had never been so, and the months hehad spent in the mines in the company of adventurers of all kinds hadnot improved him. Even law-abiding citizens often lost their regard forlaw in California, and Jones had fewer scruples to overcome than most.

  He suggested a plan which met with the approval of his employer, andpromised his co-operation on the understanding that if successfulCampbell should properly reward him.

  It may be added that of the thousand dollars which he was to receive forhis information he had actually received but three hundred, OrtonCampbell having on various pretexts put off paying him. He received theassurance that this also should be paid him without further delay assoon as the plan referred to was successfully carried out.

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  MISS DOUGLAS RECEIVES A MESSAGE.

  Florence Douglas felt somewhat uneasy after the visit of Orton Campbell.Though he had no legal right to interfere with her, even as therepresentative of his father, she knew the unscrupulous character of theman, and that he would not have spent time and money in a visit toCalifornia unless he had a strong hope of carrying her back with him.Her chief fear was that he would carry out his father's threat and tryto have her pronounced of unsound mind, in which case he could have herconfined in an asylum.

  "If I could only hear from Richard Dewey!" she fervently ejaculated. "Ifhe were here I would have nothing to fear."

  Two days passed, and, considerably to her relief, she heard nothing fromCampbell. She began to hope that he had given up his purpose and madearrangements to return to the East. She was determined to refuse him anaudience if he should call upon her again, either with or withoutcompanions. That she might feel more secure, she took her landlady, Mrs.Armstrong, into her confidence.

  This lady had become much attached to her guest, and listened with greatindignation to the account which Florence gave her. "My dear MissDouglas," she said, "if that man Campbell calls, leave me to deal withhim."

  "How would you propose to do it?" asked Florence, smiling.

  "I would give him a piece of my mind, you may depend upon that."

  "He would be rude to you."

  "In that case I would order him out of the house," said Mrs. Armstrong,resolutely. "The man needs a lesson, and I should like to be the one togive it to him."

  "I shall be very glad to have you meet him in my place," said the younglady. "An interview with him is something which I would gladly avoid."

  "That you shall! I only hope he'll come soon. He'll find one woman thatisn't afraid of him."

  "I am not afraid of him, Mrs. Armstrong, but I own that I amapprehensive of what he may do. It would not surprise me at all if heshould make his appearance with some needy physician who for a fee willbe ready to pronounce me insane."

  "Don't be alarmed, Miss Florence. I'll send the doctor packing, as wellas his employer. Perhaps he will pronounce me insane. If he does, he iswelcome to. I think he would find me an unsatisfactory patient."

  "I think so too," said Florence, smiling, as she scanned the firm,determined face and the tall and muscular form of her hostess, whocertainly would never be classed as a weak or timid woman.

  On the afternoon of the third day a knock was heard at the door, for asyet it was unprovided with a bell.

  Mrs. Armstrong and Florence were sitting together.

  The two glanced at each other, and the same thought came to each.

  "It may be Orton Campbell," said Florence, who was the first to speak.

  "Then let me go to the door. Stay where you are, Miss Douglas; I willreceive the gentleman."

  But when the landlady opened the door she saw a man who looked like acoachman. A covered carriage was at the gate, which he had evidentlydriven.

  "Well, sir, what can I do for you?" demanded the landlady, sharply.

  "Is there a young lady living with you named Florence Douglas?" askedthe man.

  "Miss Florence Douglas boards here," answered Mrs. Armstrong.

  "I've got a message for her, ma'am."

  "If it's from Mr. Orton Campbell, you can go back and tell him that shewon't receive any messages from him," said the landlady, resolutely.

  "I don't know who you mean, ma'am," replied the man, in apparentsurprise. "I don't know any such gentleman."

  "Then who sent you?" inquired the landlady, whose turn it was to besurprised.

  "It's a man just come from the mines," said the driver--"a Mr. Dewey."

  Florence had drawn near to the head of the stairs in her interest tohear who had called, and she caught the name of her lover. She cameflying down stairs, and demanded breathlessly, "What about RichardDewey? I am Miss Douglas, and your message is for me."

  Jones, for it was he, touched his hat respectfully, and held out a notepenned on rough paper and written in pencil.

  "This will explain everything, miss," he said.

  Florence took the paper, and with some difficulty read it. It ran thus:

  "DEAR FLORENCE: I have struggled to reach you, but have been struck down by fever when I was nearly at the end of my journey. I have had bad luck at the mines, and was almost discouraged, when I learned that you were in San Francisco. Poor as I was, I determined to come to you, even at the risk of your misjudging me. I am not able to write much, and must defer particulars till I see you. I am staying at the house of a kind stranger a few miles from the city. The man whom I send with this note is trustworthy. If you will trust yourself to his guidance, he will bring you to me. I know that I am asking a great deal of you, but I think you will not fail me.

  "Yours, with love,

  "RICHARD DEWEY."

  The writing was hurried--indeed, it was hardly more than a scrawl.

  "He must be very weak," thought Florence, her heart swelling withpainful emotions.--"My good friend," she said to the landlady, "Richardis sick and poor. He asks me to come to him. I must go."

  "But can you trust that man? Is the letter genuine?" asked Mrs.Armstrong, suspiciously.

  "I am sure it is genuine. It is written as Richard would write."

  "But don't be in haste, Miss Douglas--Florence. Make some inquiries, andfind out whether this news can be depended upon."

  "Would you have me hesitate when Richard needs me?" asked Florence,reproachfully. "No, Mrs. Armstrong, I must go, and at once. I havewaited so long to see him!"

  "He will be very glad to see you, miss," said Jones respectfully. "Hehas been talking about you constant."

  "Were Ben and Mr. Bradley with him? Why didn't one of them come?"

  "Because, miss," said Jones with ready invention, though he had neverheard of either of the persons mentioned, "one went for the doctor, andthe other stayed to take care of him."

  This seemed very plausible. Without a particle of suspicion FlorenceDouglas hastily dressed herself and entered the carriage in waiting.

  CHAPTER XXV.

  WALKING INTO A TRAP.

  The thought that she was so soon to see Richard Dewey, and to ministerto his comfort, was a source of pleasure to Florence. Her patientwaiting was at length to be rewarded. What mattered it to her that hewas poor and sick? He had all the more need of her.

  "It's a long ride, miss," said Jones as he closed the carriage-door. "Ihope you won't be tired before we get there."

  "I shall not mind it," said Florence. "How far is it?"

  "I don't rightly know. It's a matter of ten miles, I'm thinkin'."

  "Very well."

  Jones resumed his seat, and Florence gave herself up to pleasantthoughts. She felt thankful that she was blessed with abundant means,since it would enable her to spare no expense in providing for the sickman. Others might call him a fortune-hunter, but that produced noimpression upon her, except to make her angry. She had given her wholelove and confidence to the man
whom her heart had chosen.

  The carriage rolled onward rapidly: as from time to time she glanced outof the window, she saw that they had left behind the town and were inthe open country. She gave herself no concern, however, and did notquestion Jones, taking it for granted that he was on the right road, andwould carry her to the place where Richard Dewey had found a temporaryrefuge.

  "It is some poor place, probably," she reflected, "but if he can bemoved I will have him brought into town, where he can see a skilfuldoctor daily."

  At the end of an hour and a half there was a sudden stop.

  Florence looked out of the carriage-window, and observed that they werein front of a shabby-looking dwelling of two stories.

  Jones leaped from his elevated perch and opened the door of thecarriage. "This is the place, miss," he said. "Did you get tired?"

  "No, but I am glad we have arrived."

  "It's a poor place, miss, but Mr. Dewey was took sick sudden, so I wastold, and it was the best they could do."

  "It doesn't matter. Perhaps he can be moved."

  "Perhaps so. Will you go in?"

  "Yes."

  The door was opened, and a slatternly-looking woman of sinister aspectappeared at the threshold. Florence took no particular notice of herappearance, but asked, hurriedly, "How is he?"

  "Oh, he'll get along," answered the woman, carelessly. "Will you comein?"

  "He is not dangerously sick, then?" said Florence, relieved.

  "He's got a fever, but ain't goin' to die this time."

  "This is Mrs. Bradshaw, Miss Douglas," said Jones, volunteering anintroduction.

  "I thank you, Mrs. Bradshaw, for your kindness to a sick man and astranger," said Florence, earnestly. "Can I see him now?"

  "Yes, miss, if you'll just walk up stairs. I hope you'll excuse thelooks of things; I haven't had time to fix up."

  "Oh, don't mention it."

  In a tumult of emotion Florence followed her guide up a rough staircase.

  On the landing Mrs. Bradshaw opened a door and, standing aside, invitedFlorence to enter.

  On a sofa, with his back to her, lay the figure of a man covered with ashawl.

  "Richard!" said the visitor, eagerly.

  The recumbent figure slowly turned, and revealed to the dismayedFlorence, not the face of the man she expected to see, but that of OrtonCampbell.

  "Mr. Campbell!" she ejaculated, in bewilderment.

  "I see you know me, Miss Douglas," said Orton Campbell, throwing off theshawl and rising from the couch.

  For the first time it dawned upon Florence that she had walked into atrap. She hurried to the door and strove to open it, but Mrs. Bradshawhad locked it.

  "What does this mean, Mr. Campbell?" she demanded with spirit, in spiteof her terror. "Is this unworthy trick of your devising?"

  "I am afraid I must confess that it is," said Orton, coolly.

  "And it was all a falsehood about Richard Dewey's sickness?"

  "Yes."

  "And the note?"

  "I wrote it myself."

  "Then, sir, you have acted shamefully," said Florence, indignantly.

  "I am afraid I have," said Orton Campbell, smiling, "but I couldn't helpit!"

  "'Couldn't help it'?" repeated Miss Douglas.

  "No; you would not receive me, and I had to contrive an interview."

  "Do you know anything of Richard Dewey?"

  "No; he is perfectly well, so far as I know, or he may be dead. Pray beseated."

  "I would rather stand. May I ask what you expect to gain by this basedeception?"

  "Your consent to a marriage with me."

  "Then it is clear you don't know me, Orton Campbell."

  "It is quite as clear, Miss Florence Douglas, that you don't know me."

  "I believe you capable of any atrocity."

  "Then you do know me. I am capable of anything that will break down youropposition to my suit."

  "Do you propose to keep me here?"

  "Yes, until you give me a favorable answer."

  "That will never be."

  "Then you will stay here an indefinite period."

  "Are there no laws in California?"

  "None that will interfere with me. The people who live here are devotedto my interests, as you will find. I don't wish to hurry you in yourdecision, and will therefore leave you for the present. Your meals willbe sent you at regular times, and I will call again to-morrow."

  He drew a key from his pocket, opened the door, and left the room,locking the door behind him.

  Florence sank into a chair, almost in despair.

  CHAPTER XXVI.

  A HARD-HEARTED JAILER.

  Florence soon recovered a degree of self-possession, and began toconsider the situation. The room in which she so unexpectedly foundherself a prisoner was about fifteen feet square. There were two frontwindows, from which she took a survey of the neighborhood, which she hadbut slightly observed from the windows of the carriage. She could see noother house, and naturally concluded that this had been selected onaccount of its lonely location.

  The distance from the window-sill to the ground was not over twelvefeet, and Florence began to consider whether she could not manage toescape in this way.

  She tried to open one of the windows, but could not stir it. Closerexamination showed her that it had been nailed down. She went to thesecond window, and found that secured in a similar way.

  "They evidently anticipated that I would try to escape," she thought toherself.

  Next her thoughts recurred to the woman who appeared to be the mistressof the house. Not that she had any intention of appealing to herkindness of heart, for the hard-featured Mrs. Bradshaw was not a womanlikely to be influenced by any such considerations. Florence had enjoyedbut a transient view of the lady's features, but she already had atolerably correct idea of her character.

  "She is probably mercenary," thought Florence, "and is in OrtonCampbell's pay. I must outbid him."

  This thought inspired hope, especially when from the window she saw herpersecutor ride away on horseback. This would gave her a fair field anda chance to try the effect of money upon her jailer without risk ofinterruption. She would have felt less sanguine of success if she hadheard the conversation which had just taken place between Mrs. Bradshawand her captor:

  "Mind, Mrs. Bradshaw, you must not let the young lady leave her room onany consideration."

  "All right, sir."

  "I take it for granted, Mrs. Bradshaw, you are not easily taken in?"

  "I should say not, sir," said the woman, emphatically.

  "The young lady will try to impose upon you while I am away."

  "Then she'd better save her trouble," said Mrs. Bradshaw, tossing herhead.

  "She's very artful," said Orton. "Most crazy people are."

  "You don't mean to say she's crazy?" said Mrs. Bradshaw in surprise."She don't look like it."

  "You are quite right. She doesn't look like it, but she wrong here,"continued Campbell, tapping his forehead. "Why, she fancies herselfimmensely rich, Mrs. Bradshaw, when, as a matter of fact, she's apenniless cousin of mine, who would have gone to the poorhouse but formy father's charity."

  "You don't say so!" exclaimed Mrs. Bradshaw, interested.

  "Sometimes she thinks she's worth millions of dollars. I wish she were,for in that case my father would be relieved of the burden of supportingher."

  "To be sure, sir!"

  "Some time since she managed to elude our vigilance and escaped from ourhome in Albany. Knowing how feeble-minded she was, we felt very anxiousabout her, but for some time were unable to get a trace of her. Finally,we learned that she had been seen in California, and I came out at greatpersonal inconvenience to bring her back."

  "Very kind of you, sir, I am sure: but how could she travel so farwithout money?"

  "That is easily explained. She opened my father's desk and took out somehundreds of dollars," answered Orton Campbell, with unblushingfalsehood. "Of course, we don't
consider her responsible, as she is ofunsound mind. Otherwise, we should look upon her as very ungrateful."

  "She seems to be very good-looking," observed Mrs. Bradshaw.

  "So she is, and if her mind were healthy I can imagine that she would beadmired. As it is, her beauty counts for nothing."

  "To be sure!"

  "I hope to calm her down, and induce her without a violent disturbanceto embark on the next steamer for New York with me. She won't listen tome now, but I shall call to-morrow forenoon and see how she appears.Meanwhile, she will probably try to bribe you to release her. She maypromise you thousands, perhaps millions, of dollars, for it's all thesame to her, poor thing! But of course you're too sensible a woman to betaken in by the promises of a crazy girl?"

  "I should say so!" returned Mrs. Bradshaw, who was thoroughly deceivedby the artful story of her employer, who, by the way, had promised herone hundred dollars for her co-operation in his scheme.

  "She will probably tell you that she came to California in search of herlover, who is at the mines. Of course there is no such person, but shethinks there is."

  "I understand," said the woman, confidently.

  "I thought you would. Well, Mrs. Bradshaw, I will see you to-morrow. Iam sure you are to be relied upon."