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"He will when he's behind the bars."
"I trust so."
"I will never realize what I am not guilty of. What are you going to do with me next?"
"Just sit down until I finish the morning mail and you will see.
Augustus, watch him so that he does not escape again."
"Don't fear. I told you I would not run away; and I always keep my word."
I sat down on a chair, and Mr. Stillwell began to look over his letters.
I wondered what would happen next, but I was not quite prepared for what did happen.
Suddenly the door opened, and Mr. Canning rushed in. He held a morning paper in his hand, and was highly excited.
"What does this mean?" he demanded of my uncle.
"What does what mean, Mr. Canning?" asked Mr. Stillwell, as sweetly as he could.
"This account of the burning of the Spitfire?"
"Dear! dear! the Spitfire burned!" cried my uncle, wringing his hands in a.s.sumed anguish. "And I had a cargo on board of her, and but partly insured!"
"Yes; and this paper states that the vessel was set on fire by the captain and his accomplices," went on Mr. Canning.
With a bound my uncle was on his feet.
"It can't be true," he cried, hoa.r.s.ely.
"The officers of the law claim that it is true. But that is not the worst of it. They claim that the cargo was a bogus one, and that you are guilty of fraud. Foster, here----"
Mr. Canning did not continue. With a deep groan my uncle had sunk back into his office chair like one dead!
CHAPTER x.x.x.
AN UNEXPECTED DEATH.
I was alarmed when my uncle fell back in his chair as one dead. I knew that his heart was affected, and that any sudden shock might prove serious to him.
"What's the matter?" asked Mr. Canning, starting forward.
"The news has been too much for him," I replied.
"You've killed my father!" cried Gus, white with fear. "He's troubled with his heart, and what you have said has done him up."
"I sincerely trust not," replied the junior partner. "Let us raise him up, and some one go for a doctor."
We made him as comfortable as possible and opened all the doors and windows. Then while Gus hurried off for a physician, Mr. Canning applied his ear to the unconscious man's breast.
"His heart still beats," he exclaimed. "I trust he gets over it."
We procured some water and bathed my uncle's face, and Mr. Canning poured some wine that was in the desk down his throat.
"Is this report true?" he asked as we were doing what we could for the unfortunate man.
"Yes, sir, it is."
The junior partner shook his head.
"I have suspected Mr. Stillwell for some time," he said slowly. "I was not in the firm a week before I was sorry I had invested my money with them."
"Do you think I am guilty?"
"Hardly, Foster; but Mr. Stillwell seemed so positive."
"I don't think the money was ever put in the safe, sir," I went on.
"What makes you think that?"
"Because Mr. Stillwell was not acting rightly about my late father's estate, and as I was beginning to suspect him he wished to get me out of the way."
"Ah, I see! I am afraid he has got himself in a bad fix."
"I am afraid so too, but it is not my fault, Mr. Canning."
A moment later Gus returned with a doctor. The physician shook his head when he beheld my uncle.
"I have been called to attend him once before," he said. "He is not at all strong, and this may prove worse than you imagine."
"Will it be fatal?" I cried.
"I trust not, but I cannot say for certain. The best thing is to get him home where he can have perfect quiet."
At these words Gus began to shed tears. I could not help but feel sorry for him, and also for my aunt and my cousin Lillian when they should hear the news.
I went out and procured the easiest coach I could find, and inside of it we placed Mr. Stillwell, with the physician beside him, and Gus on the seat with the driver.
"Are you coming along?" asked my cousin.
"No; but I will be up later," I replied.
We watched the coach out of sight up the busy street, and then Mr.
Canning and I returned to the office.
"It is a bad state of affairs," said the junior partner. "I doubt, after what the doctor has said, if your uncle ever puts foot in the office again."