“It is a very delicate process to extract the impurities from iron and
to transform that metal into a steel that will stand severe tension
and become of so fine a temper that it will cut diamonds. Our product
also had marvelous resiliency, and can be forged without losing any of
its qualities. All this is accomplished by manipulations that are the
result of accurate scientific calculations. No one could stumble upon
such a process as Carden evolved by years of intelligent effort, and by
no other process than Carden’s could such steel ever be manufactured.”

“Well, what will you do now?”

“I don’t know. What I’d like to do is to go to Birmingham at once and
see if I can solve the mystery.”

“Why don’t you?” asked the doctor.

“I’m afraid to leave Jordan, to tell the truth. If he should attempt to
run away I must be here to stop him. His suspicions will be aroused by
this interview, and should he escape he would take the secret with him,
and I would be forced to close the works. Can’t _you_ go, doctor?”

“No, indeed. I can’t leave my patients. There are some who need me
every day of their lives--or think they do, which is the same thing.
A physician isn’t his own master, you know, and moreover this isn’t a
physician’s business. Send a confidential agent.”

“I will. Whom do you suggest?”

“Will Carden.”

Mr. Williams smiled into the doctor’s earnest face.

“If I sent Will to Europe, Jordan would at once become suspicious,”
said he.

“No one need know he has gone to Europe. We’ll keep it quiet, and as
he is known to be my partner in the mushroom business I can send him
away on our private affairs, and Mr. Jordan will have no cause to be
suspicious.”

“I will think over the suggestion before deciding. But I’m glad you
mentioned Will. He’s a fine, intelligent young fellow, and the trip
would do him a lot of good.”

“Indeed it would. Good afternoon, Mr. Williams.”

“I am grateful to you for giving me this hour,” said the manufacturer,
rising to shake his friend’s hand, “for although we have not
accomplished much it has relieved me of some of my suspicious of Mr.
Jordan. I am still positive he deceived me about the formula, and there
is no doubt he is a cold-blooded miser, who would stick at nothing
to make money. Also, he has a secret. But, after all, few men are
thoroughly understood, and in the end Jordan may prove to be less of a
scoundrel than we have considered him.”

With this the interview terminated, and Doctor Meigs went away to call
upon his parents. But for a time there was an unusually thoughtful
expression upon his kindly face.

CHAPTER XII.

THE “SPECIAL MESSENGER.”

Will Carden was quite surprised to receive another invitation to confer
with Mr. Williams. This time, however, he was asked to call at the
Williams house in the evening “on a matter of great importance,” and
while this was less formal than the previous appointment it was also
more mysterious. Wondering greatly why he was summoned, the boy dressed
himself with care, kissed his mother good-night, and walked down the
road toward the village, filled with impatient eagerness.

Will’s fortunes were quite prosperous at this juncture; or, as he
reflected in his boyish fashion: “Things seem to be coming my way.” But
he was too wise to attribute it to “luck,” know-full well how much he
owed to the kindness of good Doctor Meigs, backed by his own sturdy
labor and a strict attention to the details of his business.

“These ‘lucky’ fellows,” the doctor had once said, “are usually found
to have created their own luck by hard work and upright methods,”
and the observation struck Will as being very close to the truth.
This spring he had abandoned the idea of raising a variety of small
vegetables, as he had done in previous years, and contented himself
with planting all his available ground with potatoes. These, if
properly cared for, would pay nearly as much profit as the market
garden, and be a good deal less work. Now that the mushrooms were doing
so well the boy felt he could afford to take life a trifle easier, and
this method reduced Egbert’s labors as well as his own.

Pondering these things he rang the bell at the big house and was at
once ushered into Mr. Williams’s study, where he was delighted to find
Doctor Meigs seated.

After the first words of greeting Mr. Williams said:

“Will, how would you like to go to England, on a little business trip?”

The youth was so astonished that for a moment he stared at his
questioner vacantly, and during this interval the mill owner made a
rapid but not less complete inspection of the messenger he was about to
entrust with so important and delicate an errand.

Will Carden could hardly be called a boy any longer. He was nearly
eighteen years of age, and had grown swiftly toward manhood since the
reader was first introduced to him. Tall and well-knit, with broad
shoulders and an erect bearing, a stranger might easily have guessed
the young man to be two or three years older than he really was.
Moreover, there was a sagacious and observant expression upon his young
face that might well have been caused by his vivid appreciation of
the responsibilities thrust upon him so early in life. Yet, lest you
mistake Will for a paragon, let me warn you that the same expression
may often be seen upon the face of a manly young fellow looking broadly
upon the great future, and it is well worth observing, I assure you.
Will had his failings, as all properly constituted boys have; but they
were such as threw his better qualities into strong relief.

Mr. Williams seemed well satisfied with his brief inspection, and felt
intuitively that he might rely upon the youth’s discretion and faith.

“Are you in earnest, sir?” asked Will.

“Very much in earnest,” was the quiet reply. “The errand is a secret
one, yet I do not ask you to go as a spy, but rather to investigate
as fully as possible the business of the Atlas Steel Company of
Birmingham. Upon your success depends to a great extent my future
prosperity as a manufacturer. Will you undertake this mission?”

“If you think I am capable, sir, I will gladly go. It would please me
to be of use to you, and I would enjoy the voyage and the chance to
visit a foreign land.”

“Very good,” said Mr. Williams. “I will pay all of your expenses, and
allow you a hundred dollars a month for salary while you are absent.”

“That is too much, sir, and I cannot accept it,” said Will, firmly. “It
will be enough to pay my expenses. Egbert can look after things while I
am away, so that the business will suffer very little.”

“I am sorry you decline my offer,” replied the manufacturer, rather
stiffly. “It obliges me to find another messenger, to whom I will
probably be forced to pay double the salary I have offered you. Men who
are competent, and whom I may trust, are not to be had for a song, Mr.
Carden.”

Will looked red and embarrassed. He had never been called “Mr. Carden”
by his friend Mr. Williams before, and the formal title led him to
believe he had unwittingly offended the man who had been so kind to
him. He looked appealingly at the doctor.

“You’re a confounded idiot, sir!” said that brusque personage, with a
deeper frown than usual, although in his heart the doctor was secretly
admiring the boy. “Here is a chance to be of great service to Mr.
Williams, who coolly informs you that much of his future prosperity--a
matter of many millions, doubtless--depends upon this mission to
England. Do you wish to rob him, sir, by forcing him to employ a high
priced agent, when you can do as well for a smaller sum?”

Will seemed bewildered.

“You don’t appear to understand me, Doctor,” he said, reproachfully.
“It will be a splendid thing for me, a regular holiday, to make a trip
like that. Why should I ask my friend to pay me a lot of money in
addition?”

“The laborer is worthy of his hire,” quoted Doctor Meigs, bluntly.
“Can’t you see that by accepting the salary--which is little enough, in
all conscience--you give Mr. Williams the right to use your services in
any way he may direct?”

“Come, come, Will!” cried Mr. Williams, springing up to lay a kindly
hand upon the youth’s shoulder. “Don’t let us haggle over a price.
You’re worth the sum I offer, and much more, to me. So take it, and
let’s call the matter settled.”

“As you like, sir,” answered Will, feeling rather helpless between his
two friends. “I am very grateful to you both for all your kindness to
me, and I’ll do anything you say I ought to do.”

“Good!” growled the doctor, approvingly. “We’ll put you through your
paces, all right.”

Mr. Williams laughed, and his laugh was always a pleasant one.

“And now,” said he, “I will tell you why I am anxious to investigate
the business of the Atlas company, which threatens me with a dangerous
competition.”

The conference lasted until a late hour, and when it was ended Will
understood perfectly what was required of him, and undertook to
discover, if possible, where the English concern obtained the secret
of the Carden process for making forge steel.

“When shall I go, sir?” he finally asked.

“As soon as possible. Within a week, if you can get away. Steamers sail
nearly every day, at this season.”

“How will next Wednesday do?” enquired Will, after a moment’s thought.

“Excellently,” returned Mr. Williams. “I will send you money and
further instructions to your home, for Mr. Jordan must not suspect you
are in my employ. It will be best for you to confide in no one but your
mother and Doctor Meigs. Merely tell your brother and sister, or any
other enquirers, that you are going East.”

“Very well, sir.”

One can imagine the eager anticipation that controlled Will Carden
during the next few days. He ordered a new suit of clothes from the
local tailor, and the doctor helped him to select a suitable outfit
for his travels. Although he had never been further away from Bingham
than the city, which was twenty-two miles distant, Will had no fears
of his ability to take good care of himself. He might appear a trifle
“green” to experienced travellers, he admitted; but at his age any
well balanced youth has ample self-command and judgment, so that he
anticipated nothing but pleasure during the next busy month or two.

Only one thing grieved him. He would be away during Annabel’s vacation,
and the young folks had laid many plans to be together during this
time. But he left with Mr. Williams a note for the girl, telling her
this was a business matter of her father’s that could not be delayed,
and begging her not to forget him during his absence. Singularly
enough, neither he nor Annabel saw anything humorous in this request.

Then, just at the last minute, Mr. Williams entrusted to him another
errand that was not wholly agreeable. Letters had come from Mrs.
Williams that she was about to return home, being much improved in
health; and her husband asked Will to proceed directly from Liverpool
to London, there to meet Mrs. Williams at the Savoy Hotel and escort
her to her steamer. Will was to see her safely started toward America
before proceeding to Birmingham upon his more important mission.

At last he was off, and so novel was his journey that he enjoyed even
the tedious trip to New York. The Eastern agent of Mr. Williams met
him on his arrival at the great metropolis, and after a day’s delight
sight-seeing with the good natured agent as guide, Will was deposited
safely aboard the big Cunarder that was to bear him over the vast
expanse of the ocean.

Here was a change, indeed, in Will Carden’s fortunes. From “vegetable
boy” to “special messenger to Europe” seemed like an abrupt transition,
and often as he walked the deck he wondered if it were all a dream,
and he would presently awaken in his bed at home. But then his better
judgment would inform him that there was nothing so very remarkable in
his good fortune, after all. With a good friend such as Dr. Meigs, a
fortunate opportunity to save the life of a millionaire’s daughter, and
the inheritance of an honorable name, much more than this might happen
to a young fellow. Will had been in line for promotion, that was all;
but he resolved to prove worthy, that his friends might not regret
their confidence in him.

There is an old saying that “to be worthy of good fortune is to invite
good fortune,” and there is much wisdom in the adage. The worthy do
not always prove fortunate, it is true; but fortune is not so blind
and fickle as we are sometimes led to believe, and sterling worth is a
magnet that frequently attracts it.

CHAPTER XIII.

MY LADY IS GRACIOUS.

The bustle and confusion of landing filled Will with eager joy. It is
truly an experience of moment to any one, so it is not wonderful that
our youth, fresh from a country town, should thrill with excitement at
this first glimpse of a foreign land. But he did not lose his head, and
managed to rescue his small trunk from the mass of baggage tumbled upon
the quay and to get it transported to the railway station.

Then the train whirled him away, and with bustling Liverpool behind him
he had mighty London to look forward to--the “City of Cities” in the
eyes of all civilized humanity.

By dint of intelligent enquiry on shipboard he now knew exactly how to
act. Once arrived at the terminal station he took a cab for the Savoy
hotel, where Mr. Williams had requested him to take a room. He met with
one disappointment, in finding that Mrs. Williams had not yet arrived,
for according to her letter she should have been at the Savoy some days
since, and Mr. Williams had cabled her to await there Will’s arrival.

However, there was nothing to do but await the lady’s appearance; so he
went to his room, removed all traces of travel, and descended to obtain
his first serene view of the world’s metropolis. He found a nearby
restaurant, at which he dined most luxuriously, but grieved at sight of
his bill. Dr. Meigs had impressed upon him the fact that Mr. Williams
had millions at his disposal, and therefore his confidential agent’s
expenses need not be in any way curtailed. Mr. Williams had himself
informed the young man that so long as Will acted as his representative
he must live in a style befitting his employer’s position in the world.

“Do exactly as you think I would do myself, were I making the trip in
person,” he said.

So Will, although conscious of reckless extravagance from his own
viewpoint, determined not to hesitate to spend Mr. Williams’s money
freely in providing a respectable living; but it startled him to find
how much was actually required to live in London in the same way that
others did with whom he was constantly thrown in contact.

After dinner he decided to attend an opera, a species of entertainment
he had never before witnessed; but he contented himself with a seat
obtained for the most modest sum the bills quoted. Being extremely
fond of music, and of a naturally artistic and appreciative mind,
the inexperienced boy found in the opera a veritable fairyland, and
his dreams that night were filled with fantastic creations called up
by the gorgeous spectacle he had beheld and the ravishing strains of
music he had listened to. He realized he was getting a tremendous lot
of experience in a very sudden manner, and it kept him keyed up to a
high pitch of nervous tension until he became more accustomed to the
novelty of existence in a great city.

Next morning he enquired for Mrs. Williams again, only to find she had
not yet arrived.

“She should have been here several days ago,” he said to the registry
clerk, in an anxious voice.

“Where was she coming from, sir?” the man enquired.

“Paris, I believe.”

“Then I beg you not to worry,” returned the clerk, with a reassuring
smile; “for most ladies find it a difficult matter to leave Paris,
and frequently they linger there many days after they have planned to
depart. Be patient, sir; and if the lady delays too long we will make
enquiries for you in Paris.”

That relieved Will’s anxiety to an extent, for he could easily
understand how a woman of Mrs. Williams’s temperament would be likely
to forget she was overdue in London, so long as the charms of Paris
amused her.

His instructions were to await her at this hotel, so he decided to
give her three days more of grace, and if she did not then arrive to
cable his employer for advice how to act.

Will knew, in a general way, what he most cared to see in London, for
he was as intelligent as the average American high school boy, and
although he had never in his wildest dreams expected to go abroad, had
stored up a mass of general information that was now very useful to
draw upon. So, with the aid of a guide-book, he found his way to the
Tower, the House of Parliament, and Westminster Abbey, returning toward
evening to his hotel with the uncomfortable feeling that should Mrs.
Williams have arrived in his absence she would surely be annoyed by his
neglect.

But the clerk met his enquiry with a shake of the head, and relieved
his fears.

Next day he visited St. Paul’s and stood before the tombs of
Wellington, Nelson and other great men whose names were familiar
in history. And then he mounted the top of an omnibus and rode for
miles through the busy thoroughfares, until the immensity of the
city overpowered him, and half bewildered he returned to his hotel to
rest and collect his thoughts. It was a famous opportunity for a boy
like Will Carden, and I am glad he took advantage of those two days
of waiting to gain experience that would furnish him with pleasant
recollections in all the years to come.

That evening he saw Henry Irving enact King Lear, and learned a lesson
he never forgot. When on the following morning he came down to the
office, the clerk informed him that Mrs. Williams had telegraphed she
would arrive at ten o’clock, so he need have no further anxiety.

He watched her arrival, with two maids, a mountain of trunks and a
dozen servants impressed at the entrance to carry parcels, wraps and
miscellaneous articles of all descriptions; but the sight deterred him
from approaching her until she was settled in her suite of rooms.

Then he sent up a card and received an answer that Mrs. Williams would
see Mr. Carden at one o’clock. The tedious wait made him nervous and
disconcerted, so that when the important hour arrived and he was shown
to the great lady’s apartments he realized that he was not likely to
create a very favorable impression.

Nor did he.

Mrs. Williams was reclining upon a couch, but she arose languidly and
examined him through a little eye-glass, saying afterward in mincing
tones:

“Dear me! Isn’t it the vegetable boy?”

“Yes’m,” said Will, shame-faced and awkward.

“I have been wondering whom it could be that Mr. Williams cabled would
meet me here. The name was unknown to me. What are you, a valet?”

“Hardly that, madam,” replied Will, with a hearty, boyish laugh; and I
think that laugh must have made a favorable impression upon the lady,
for she lowered her eye-glass and murmured:

“I have been from home so long that I am ignorant of present conditions
there. But you seem to have grown bigger, and--and--older.”

“Naturally, madam,” said he; and then he added, with an assumption of
such dignity as he could command under the circumstances: “I have the
honor to be your husband’s confidential agent, abroad upon business
matters. For this reason Mr. Williams thought it best that I should
meet you here and offer such services as I may be able to render you.”

“To be sure,” she said, musingly; “and it was very thoughtful of him.
If I remember rightly, you were the boy that carried Annabel home the
day she fell into the pond.”

He bowed.

“I am glad to see, Mrs. Williams, that you seem to have quite recovered
your good health,” he observed, to get away from the subject.

“Not quite, sir,” she answered, in a more cordial tone; “but I am much
better than when I first came from America. Won’t you sit down?”
noting that he was still standing. “And now, please tell me how you
left my children. Were they well? Are they growing? Really, I shall be
glad to see them again after this long separation.”

Will had his own ideas about the interest the woman took in her
children; but it was a subject very interesting to him personally,
so he chatted away in his usual bright manner, relating the progress
of his friends and playmates and adding such gossip of Bingham as he
thought might interest his listener.

And Mrs. Williams began to approve more and more the pleasant young man
before her.

“Are you returning home with me?” she asked, presently.

“I’m afraid not. I have business in Birmingham that may detain me for
some time,” he replied.

She seemed really disappointed.

“I hate London,” said she, wearily, “so I shall take the first steamer
home. You will look it up for me, tomorrow, and make arrangements?”

“With great pleasure, madam.”

“And you must dine with me this evening. I will meet you in the pink
salon at half-past seven, and we will go to the main restaurant.”

“Thank you, madam,” he said, filled with a sense of depression at the
very idea of dining with the great lady.

As he rose to go she added, as if by an afterthought:

“You will, of course, appear in full dress, Mr. Carden. Until then, au
revoir.”

With a bow he was dismissed, and as he stumbled into the hall and the
maid closed the door behind him, he remembered that a full-dress suit
was something he did not possess. Really, he ought to go back and tell
her so; but the very thought of doing this made him panic-stricken, and
instead he went down stairs to get some luncheon and think over his
predicament.

CHAPTER XIV.

A DINNER IN A DRESS SUIT.

On his way Will passed the ladies’ restaurant, and noted the handsome
toilets of its occupants with something of a shock. Mrs. Williams
would doubtless be elaborately gowned that evening, and of course he
ought to be in full dress also. What an absurd situation to confront
a poor country boy, who had been so proud of the new suit the Bingham
tailor had provided him with! Will Carden in a “swallow-tail!” The very
thought made him smile--and then shudder. Whatever should he do?

The gentlemen’s lunch room was rather full, but the courteous usher
asked permission of a guest who sat at a small table in one corner, and
then seated Will opposite him.

The gentleman was reading a newspaper, and merely glanced at the
new arrival. Will could see that he had a big, impressive figure, a
close-cropped beard of iron gray, and an expression upon his face that
was grave yet kindly.

Having made this cursory inspection, he gave his simple order to
the waiter and then relapsed into moody abstraction. That dreadful
dress-suit haunted him like some malignant demon. If he made an excuse
to cancel the engagement Mrs. Williams would be offended; if he
appeared in his ordinary clothes she would be more offended still. And
now that she had begun to treat him with some slight consideration he
disliked to do anything to forfeit her respect or good will.

“Something disagreeable, sir?” asked a pleasant voice.

The gentleman had lain down his paper and was engaged in eating his
luncheon. As he spoke he glanced at Will with a smile, which the boy
returned, feeling rather ashamed of his depression because of so
trivial a matter.

“Something quite disagreeable, as you observe, sir,” he answered.

“You are an American?”

“Yes, sir. And you?”

A shadow crossed the gentleman’s face.

“Formerly I lived in the States. But I am quite English, now, although
I have never ceased to love my native land. That is why I ventured to
speak to a young man who is so evidently an American. Can I be of any
assistance to you?”

Will laughed.

“To be frank with you, my tribulation is caused merely by a lack of a
dress suit,” said he. “I must dine with a lady--a very ‘swell’ lady,
sir--tonight, and I possess only the clothes you behold.”

“You have lost your baggage?”

“No, sir; I never have owned a dress suit. Indeed, these are the best
clothes I have, and had not the lady asked me to dine with her I should
have considered them equal to all my requirements.”

“What part of America are you from?”

“A little town called Bingham.”

The man gave a sudden start, and moved his lips as if about to speak.
But no words came, and closing his jaws firmly together, as if to
repress the impulse, he leaned back in his chair and gazed at Will with
a look that was more pathetic than curious.

The boy scarcely noticed the interruption. He rambled on, explaining
that he was sent abroad on business by a Mr. Williams, and was only
staying in London to see the wife of his employer aboard the steamer on
her way home. It was cruel, he protested, for her to ask him to dine
with her in a fashionable hotel, knowing as she did his station in
life, and still more cruel to ask him to appear in a dress suit.

Of all this, and much more, he talked as he ate his luncheon, and the
gentleman listened in grave silence, but most attentively.

After the meal was finished he asked:

“Have you money?”

“Yes, sir; plenty.”

“Then I believe I shall be able to relieve your embarrassment, if you
will walk with me a few doors down the street.”

“I shall be very grateful, sir.”

The gentleman arose to leave the café, and Will noticed that the
waiters and ushers all bowed with profound deference as he passed out.
But that was not singular. The most careless observer could not fail to
be impressed by his new friend’s dignified bearing.

On the street he nodded to several acquaintances and tipped his hat
gracefully to a lady who rode by in a handsome equipage. Will was quite
proud of his companion, who was evidently a person of importance.

But now they turned into a fashionable tailor shop, and the proprietor
was bowing and scraping most humbly before the gray-haired gentleman,
who beckoned him aside.

Will did not hear the conversation that ensued, but the tailor rubbed
his hands together complacently and nodded so often that the boy
wondered he did not dislocate his neck.

“He will fit you out, all right, and send you the suit in ample time,”
said the gentleman, returning to Will’s side. “And now, if there is no
way I can be of further assistance to you, permit me to bid you good
day.”

“Thank you very much, sir.”

With a smile and nod the man was gone, and now the obsequious tailor
was inviting him to stand upon a pedestal to be measured. Evidently
the fellow had received definite instructions what to do, for he asked
no questions except where to send the clothes, and declared again and
again that they would be delivered by six o’clock.

Will passed the rest of the afternoon looking up steamship offices and
enquiring about sailings to New York. Mrs. Williams had said he could
do this tomorrow, but he preferred to attend to the matter at once. He
finally selected a steamer that sailed the next Saturday, which would
give the lady ample time to prepare for the trip, and having made the
booking he returned to his hotel to await with considerable anxiety the
approach of the eventful evening.

At six o’clock a large parcel was delivered to his room, and upon
opening it he found not only his new full-dress suit, but the
accompanying linen, the proper tie, and everything else that he might
need. His chance acquaintance had proved a veritable magician, for even
to one of Will’s inexperience it was evident such an outfit could only
be procured upon short notice by means of considerable influence.

The bill that lay in the bottom of the box startled him at first; but,
had he known it, it was remarkably small for the amount and quality of
the goods it covered.

From his observations during the voyage across, and his three days in
London, Will Carden was not ignorant of what was required in society in
the way of evening dress, and the outfit before him permitted little
chance of mistake. He dressed himself very carefully, finding that
each article fitted admirably; and when all was accomplished he spent
several minutes gazing wonderingly at his own reflection in the long
mirror.

He reached the pink salon a little ahead of his engagement, and Mrs.
Williams was a little behind hers; so the interval gave him time to
regain his composure. He found several gentlemen present who were
dressed exactly like himself, and that made him feel almost at ease by
the time Mrs. Williams appeared.

She wore a handsome evening dress of black net trimmed with jet, and
many brilliant gems sparkled upon her neck and hands. After the first
enquiring glance at her escort she smiled approvingly, for Will looked
very proper and handsome in her critical worldly eyes and it was an
agreeable experience to have a nice looking young man at her side.

They found a small table awaiting them in the restaurant, where
the scene was so brilliant that it filled our youth with surprise.
Handsomely gowned ladies were present in profusion, and the soft glow
of the rose-shaded lights on rich glass and napery made a beautiful
picture not easily forgotten by one unaccustomed to such luxuries.

Will noticed, as he seated himself, that at a neighboring table his
friend of the afternoon was dining with two male companions, all in
prescribed evening dress. The gentleman saw him, and returned his bow
with a pleasant smile.

Mrs. Williams maintained a flow of social small talk that Will was
scarcely able to understand, and surely could make little reply to. But
she did not seem to expect him to converse, except in monosyllables,
so he assumed an air of respectful attention to her remarks and let
his thoughts and eyes wander amid his novel surroundings. He neither
knew nor cared what food was being served, for he seemed to be in a
fairyland, and the merry hum of voices, the soft strains of music,
the silent rush of the waiters and the atmosphere of sensuous comfort
pervading the magnificent arched room all tended to bewilder his mind
and render him indifferent to the commonplace occupation of eating.

Presently a lady detached herself from a group of diners and came
to their table to greet Mrs. Williams, who seemed to be an old
acquaintance. After acknowledging Will’s polite bow on his introduction
the lady ignored him and seated herself in a vacant chair beside Mrs.
Williams, beginning a brisk conversation which soon drifted into gossip
about those present.

“I suppose you know very few of our London notables,” she said, “having
passed so much of your time on the Continent. The lady in lavender at
the third table to your right is the Duchess of M----; and just behind
her is Lady Mary K----, whose divorce suit you have doubtless read of.
And do you see those gentlemen at a table by the pillar yonder? They
are well worth attention. The one with the moustache is Prince Von
D----, and the plain-faced man is Mr. Ashkam, the great London banker.
The third, with the gray hair and beard, is the head of the Atlas Steel
works, the famous John Carden, who is reputed one of the wealthiest
manufacturers in the United Kingdom. Next to them----”

Will’s fork fell from his hand, clattering against his plate with a
sound so startling that it attracted many eyes in his direction.

Trembling violently, and with a white face, he was staring at the man
pointed out as John Carden, who returned the look with astonishment.

“Excuse me--I--I am ill--I cannot stay here!” he stammered, in a low
voice; and rising hurriedly, regardless of Mrs. Williams’ shocked
expression, he staggered from the room.

The gentleman hastily followed. He found Will in the dimly lighted
ante-room, where the boy stood wringing his hands in an agony of
nervous excitement. Seeing the man he rushed toward him at once,
saying:

  [Illustration: Trembling violently, he stared at the man
                 pointed out as John Carden.      Page 186.]

“John Carden! Are you really John Carden?”

“Yes.”

“John Carden of Bingham?”

“Yes,” repeated the other, seizing Will’s outstretched hands; “once of
Bingham.”

“Then I am your son!” cried the boy, with a sob. “I am Will Carden.”

CHAPTER XV.

ANNABEL MAKES A DISCOVERY.

When Mary Louise, Annabel and Theodore came home for the summer
vacation there was genuine disappointment to all in finding Will Carden
absent from Bingham. But I think none missed him so sincerely as
Annabel.

She drove over to see Mrs. Carden and Flo and chatted with them for an
hour; but it was not until she found time to be alone with her father,
“for one of our good talks, daddy,” that she learned the truth about
Will’s mission abroad. In that connection Mr. Williams was obliged
to tell her something of his suspicions of Mr. Jordan, and the girl
listened earnestly to all he said.

“I never did like the man, dear,” she declared; “nor does Will like
him, although Mr. Jordan was so good to his dead father. But why don’t
you force the secretary to tell you the real secret of the process,
when you are entitled to it?”

“I mean to, when the proper time comes,” was the reply. “But I cannot
get rid of the idea that Jordan has some other object than to withhold
this knowledge.”

“I suppose he thinks that as long as you are ignorant of the real
secret of the process you cannot discharge him, or stop the payment of
his royalties,” she said, musingly.

“The secret is no longer so important as it was formerly,” said Mr.
Williams, somewhat gloomily. “That Birmingham discovery worries me more
than I can explain. The English steel is even a better grade than my
own, and if its makers choose to invade this country their competition
would seriously affect my business, and might even ruin it.”

“I’m sure Will can find out all you wish to know,” she returned. “Don’t
fret, papa. Let us wait until he gets back.”

Shortly after this conversation the manufacturer met Doctor Meigs, who
asked:

“How is Jordan conducting himself these days?”

“Rather strangely,” said Mr. Williams. “I sometimes think he’s getting
ready to run away.”

“Think so?”

“Yes. I have paid the fellow over a hundred thousand dollars in
royalties, and this money, which has been accumulating in the same bank
in the city that I myself use, and am also a director of, has suddenly
been withdrawn and placed elsewhere.”

“Where?”

“I do not know.”

“Perhaps he has invested it.”

Mr. Williams shook his head, doubtfully.

“Then, during the last few weeks,” he continued, “he has been nervously
rushing out our orders and getting the goods delivered, when there is
no need at all of haste.”

“Why?”

“Because as soon as delivery is made he is entitled to his royalty,
which he draws promptly, and sends away. It looks to me as though he is
trying to get together all the money he can, and then skip out.”

“But why should he do that?” enquired the doctor, who was plainly
puzzled by this statement.

“I can’t explain it, unless that foreign competition has frightened
him. Ever since we had that conversation in my office, at which you
were present, Jordan has been a different man. Little things seem to
startle him, whereas he used to be the coolest man I ever met. He looks
up sharply at every one who enters the office, and gets very irritable
over small things that never before annoyed him. I’ve been watching him
closely, you see.”

“Could he possibly know we have sent Will to England?”

“I believe that secret is safe. Only Mrs. Carden knows it, and she
would never betray it to Jordan, you may be sure.”

“What will you do?” asked the doctor.

“Keep an eye upon him, and if he attempts to get away hold him until he
tells me truly the secret of the process that he sold me. Otherwise he
is free to go wherever he pleases.”

“Have you heard from Will?”

“No, and it is rather strange that I have not. He has cabled me that
Mrs. Williams will arrive on the _Baltic_, which is due in New York
next week; but he said not a word about himself or the business matters
on which he is engaged.”

“Perhaps there is nothing yet to say,” suggested the doctor, and with a
handshake the friends parted.

On Sunday afternoon Annabel asked her father to join her in a walk, as
the day was delightfully pleasant. He agreed at once, and they strolled
along the lanes until they came to the Carden house, where they stopped
for a little visit with Will’s mother. Mrs. Carden had greatly
improved in health since being relieved of so much of the drudgery
of housework, and the increased prosperity of the family fortunes
had rendered her brighter and more cheerful than of old. Possessed
of an excellent education and much native refinement of manner, Mrs.
Carden had formerly been one of the most popular women in Bingham, and
although her husband’s tragic loss had greatly embittered her life
during the past dozen years, she was gradually resuming her natural
sweetness and charming personality.

So both Annabel and her father passed a pleasant hour at the house, and
then started on to resume their walk.

“Let us go by the grove,” said the girl. “It’s Mr. Jordan’s favorite
walk, and Will says he never misses an evening unless there’s a
hurricane to stop him.”

“And hurricanes are uncommon,” added her father, smiling. “Well, it
looks cool and pleasant under the trees, so we’ll walk that way. But
why do you suppose Mr. Jordan takes such long journeys every evening?”

“For exercise, I imagine. Will says he starts right after supper and
tramps a good five miles. And when he gets back he shuts himself in his
room and sees no one until morning.”

“A strange man,” said Mr. Williams, musingly; “and either extremely
simple or extremely shrewd. I can’t decide which.”

There was little other conversation between the two until they reached
the grove; but as they passed between the great trees Annabel suddenly
said:

“Do you know, papa, I almost suspect Mr. Jordan is crazy?”

“No; why do you think that?”

“Because he does such funny things. I remember Will’s telling me once
about a queer thing that happened in this very grove.”

“What was it?” asked her father, absently.

“Mr. Jordan used to stop at a certain tree, and after looking around to
find out if anyone was near he would pass his hand swiftly up and down
the bark of the tree, as secretly as if he were committing some crime.”

Mr. Williams turned to gaze upon his daughter’s face with wonder.

“Then,” said Annabel, “he would come back to the path, and resume his
walk.”

“Which tree was it?” asked her father, earnestly.

“Why, I think I can find it, for twice Will has pointed it out to
me when we were walking here. Let me see. Here is the turn in the
path--and here is where Mr. Jordan always stopped * * * and there--no,
not that one--the big oak just beside it * * * that’s the very tree,
papa! Will once found the tracks of Mr. Jordan’s feet in the snow,
where he’d walked up to it. Isn’t it funny?”

Mr. Williams shook his head. There was a puzzled expression upon his
face. He stared at the tree for a time as if in a brown study. The
incident just related was singular enough to be interesting, but the
old oak was just like a dozen other oaks that stood around. Why should
Mr. Jordan pay especial attention to that particular tree?

“Where are you going, papa?”

“I’m going to examine the tree more closely.”

He walked straight up to it, and stood minutely examining the bark.
Then he passed his hand over it.

“Higher up,” said Annabel. “He used to feel about on a level with his
head, Will told me, and he’s taller than you are, papa.”

Mr. Williams touched the bark higher up, and looked mystified. Surely
there had been no reason for Mr. Jordan’s action. Perhaps the man was
mad, after all, and this was one of his crazy notions.

Wait a moment though! Wasn’t that a crack in the rough bark? Mr.
Williams took out his pocket knife, and inserted the blade into the
crack. Yes, the bark had separated slightly at this point. He followed
the line with his knife blade, with growing excitement. It zig-zagged
this way and that, keeping first to the right, then upward almost as
far as he could reach, then to the left on almost a straight line; then
down again to the starting point.

Mr. Williams withdrew the blade and took a long breath.

“That square of bark is separate from the rest,” he said.

“How odd!” answered Annabel, her eyes bigger than usual.

Her father looked around, and espied an old root lying near. He dragged
this over to the tree, and standing upon it was able to place his face
close to the bark.

Then he indulged in a low whistle, for he had discovered a blackened
screw-head half hidden by the roughness of the surface. Again he drew
out his pocket-knife and deliberately snapped one of the blades in
half. With this improvised screw-driver he set to work, and shortly had
the screw removed.

Mr. Williams had been a mechanic in his younger days. He knew just what
to do under the present circumstances.

Annabel watched him with an interest that became more intense every
moment.

He found a second screw, and removed it; a third, and then a fourth.
With this the piece of bark came away in his hand, revealing a hollow
cavity in the tree behind it.

Mr. Williams took out his handkerchief and wiped the perspiration from
his forehead. Then he thrust his hand into the cavity, and when he
withdrew it he was clutching a bundle of papers, tied together with a
cotton cord.

CHAPTER XVI.

MR. WILLIAMS DECIDES TO ACT.

“What is it, papa?” whispered Annabel, with extreme eagerness.

The man sat down upon the root and hastily examined the papers. When
again he looked upon his daughter his face was white and drawn, and in
his eyes was an expression of intense horror.

“My dear,” he said, gently, “you have been the means of discovering one
of the most wicked plots than any man has ever conceived.”

“What is it?” she asked, again.

“I can’t tell you all until I have read these papers carefully. They
are ample proof, however, that Jordan is one of the greatest scoundrels
on earth! Why he should have placed these papers here, instead of
destroying them, I cannot understand.”

“Perhaps God made him do it,” said the girl, in an awed voice.

He leaned over and kissed her.

“Surely the hand of God is visible in all this, my darling,” he
replied, gravely. “And He doubtless led us to this grove today.”

He placed the package carefully in an inner pocket of his coat, which
he afterward buttoned carefully. Then, after a moment’s thought, he
replaced the bark, putting the screws back in place. This task being
finished, he proceeded to drag away the root upon which he had stood.

Even a careful observer could not now have known the bark had ever been
disturbed, and satisfied that the secret was safe he led Annabel from
the grove and across to a lane that would bring them close to their own
home.

“You must keep all this mystery to yourself, my darling,” he enjoined
her; “for a time, at least, until we have planned how best to act.”

“Very well, papa,” returned the girl, seriously. She knew well that
something important had been unearthed, and although curious, as any
girl might well be, to unravel the enigma, she was wise enough not to
urge her father to confide in her until he chose to do so.

Indeed, he only knew a little of the truth himself, as yet; such as had
been hurriedly gleaned by a brief examination of the papers.

Arrived at the house, he dismissed Annabel with a kiss and dispatched a
groom at once to find Doctor Meigs and bring that gentleman back with
him. After this he shut himself up in his study with orders that he
must not be disturbed.

As it was Sunday the doctor was soon found and came at once, suspecting
that something of unusual importance had occurred. He immediately
joined Mr. Williams in the study, and for several hours the two men
were closeted in the little room, engaged in deep conference.

Gradually the children, awed by the atmosphere of mystery that pervaded
the entire house, retired to bed, and then the servants turned out the
lights and followed them, leaving only old Thomas, the butler, to show
the doctor out and lock the doors for the night.

Thomas was almost asleep himself when aroused by the bell. He found the
doctor and Mr. Williams standing together in the hall, and started at
the sight of their stern, white features.

“Then it is fully decided we shall wait until Wednesday?” asked the
doctor, his voice harsh and grating.

“Until Wednesday,” returned Mr. Williams, wearily. Then he pressed his
friend’s hand. “Good night.”

“Good night, sir.”

Thomas closed the door after the departing guest and locked it. When he
turned around his master was staring into space with such a fierce look
in his eyes that the old servant shrank back in fear, and then slunk
away, leaving the man alone with his thoughts.

Next morning Mr. Williams caught an early train to the city, where he
at once sought a detective bureau, staying several hours in earnest
consultation with the chief. The result was not immediately evident,
although when the manufacturer took the afternoon train for Bingham a
quiet man, plainly dressed and unobtrusive, followed him into the car
and seated himself in a corner. At the last moment another man, dressed
in a loud checked suit and seeming to be a commercial traveller, to
judge by his sample cases, swung himself aboard the train and noisily
took a seat near to Mr. Williams, who did not recognize him in any way.

Both of these men left the train at Bingham, but they did not follow
the owner of the steel works, who crossed the tracks and proceeded
pensively toward the offices.

Mr. Jordan nodded as usual when his employer entered, and then calmly
resumed his work. Mr. Williams entered his private office and looked
through the mail before going home to dinner.

Annabel thought that her father kissed her more tenderly than usual
that evening; but she did not refer to their secret, nor did he
mention it in any way.

Mr. Jordan partook of his usual frugal meal at the hotel, and then
started for his walk. The commercial traveller was smoking a big cigar
upon the porch as the secretary passed out, but Mr. Jordan did not
notice him. He walked down the road as far as the Carden house, turned
up the lane, and with measured steps and upright form pursued his way
to the grove and through it. At one point he stopped and listened.
Everything was still among the trees, except that a thrush sent a last
wailing note after the dying sun. Mr. Jordan seemed satisfied. He left
the path and walked calmly to an oak tree, where he passed his hand
rapidly over the surface of the bark.

It was all done in an instant, and as he afterward proceeded on his way
he had no idea that a plainly dressed stranger had been standing behind
a clump of bushes watching his every movement.

The next day Mr. Williams was at the office as usual, but when Mr.
Jordan sent a clerk to ask for a conference about some of the business
details his superior answered that he was too busily engaged to see his
secretary.

Mr. Jordan seemed surprised and uneasy, but he said nothing.

In the afternoon a telegram was laid upon Mr. Williams’s desk. He
opened it indifferently, but a moment later sprang to his feet with a
cry of delight.

It read:

  “Arrived in New York today. Night train to Bingham. Be with
   you tomorrow. Mrs. Williams, who, with my son, accompanies
   me, quite well.      JOHN CARDEN.”

“Excellent!” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands together in an ecstacy of
joy. “The hand of fate is surely in this. Or,” and here he bowed his
head reverently, “perhaps my little girl is right, and it is the hand
of God!”

CHAPTER XVII.

MR. JORDAN HEARS A STORY.

The children were delighted with the news of their mother’s speedy
return. During her long absence all grievances had been forgotten,
and they only remembered that the absent mother, whom they loved, was
coming back to them.

All through the house was a flutter of excitement, which even the
servants were unable to escape. Mary Louise, like the sweet and dainty
house-fairy she was, wandered through her mother’s long deserted
rooms, putting everything in order with a discretion and taste that
was essentially womanly. And Annabel prepared vases of her mother’s
favorite flowers, whose fragrance would be sure to prove a tender
greeting to the returned traveller. Even little Gladys insisted on
helping “to get ready for mamma,” although her sisters would gladly
have dispensed with her assistance.

Annabel had another source of pleasure, for her father had said, rather
briefly but with an odd look in his eyes: “Will is coming back with
your mother, although it is sooner than I had expected him.”

She knew from the gravity of his voice that he did not wish to be asked
questions, so she only smiled happily at the news, and kissed him.

Over at the Carden cottage Mr. Jordan was having a restless night. He
returned from his evening walk as usual, but when he had locked himself
in his room he began pacing the floor restlessly, a thing which Mrs.
Carden, who could hear his footsteps plainly, did not remember that he
had ever done before.

Had anyone been able to peep within the room--which no one ever
could--he would have found the secretary’s thin face distorted by a
wrathful scowl. Indeed, Mr. Jordan was not at all pleased with the way
things were going at the mills. Mr. Williams’s evident repugnance
to him, which had been growing for some time, and his flat refusal
that day to confer with his secretary, had awakened in the man vague
misgivings for which he could not account. And then that discovery by
Mr. Williams of the English steel made by the Carden process was liable
to precipitate a crisis.

Mr. Jordan had known of this foreign steel for years, but had hoped
Mr. Williams would never discover it. There was an ominous atmosphere
surrounding him just now that warned the secretary that he must no
longer delay action--such action as he had planned for long ago.

He thought the matter over carefully, as he paced the floor, and
finally made his decision. But even after he went to bed he could not
sleep, and tossed restlessly upon his couch until morning came.

Then he arose and dressed with his usual care. His personal possessions
were not very great. The old horse-hair trunk contained little of
value, and as his eyes roved over the room he saw few things that he
really cared for.

In the end he put together a few toilet articles and some linen and
underwear, which he made into a package and wrapped with a newspaper.
Then, with a last look around, he left the house in his usual quiet
manner and walked up the road to the village.

The man had frequently consulted his watch, and timed his actions to
a nicety. He passed the village and reached the railway station just
as the early train to the city was due. But he did not go upon the
platform, where his presence might excite surprise, preferring to stand
behind the square, brick station-house until he heard the train draw
in. Even then he calculated his time. It would take so long to unload
passengers; so long for the people to enter the cars; so long to load
the baggage, and----

“All aboard!” cried the conductor.

Mr. Jordan smiled grimly and walked around the corner of the building.
Yes, he had just time to swing aboard as the train drew out.

But then a disagreeable accident happened. A commercial traveller,
dressed in a loud checked suit, dashed out of a door of the depot in
the direction of the train and ran plump against Mr. Jordan, almost
knocking that gentleman down and sending his newspaper bundle flying
several yards away. The blundering fellow actually tumbled down, and in
struggling to rise caught Mr. Jordan around the knees and held him so
fast that he could not move.

“Let go--release me!” shouted the secretary, angrily.

“I beg your pardon! I beg your pardon!” the other kept repeating,
humbly; but by the time he had scrambled up and released his victim
the train had pulled away, and now at constantly increasing speed was
flying along the tracks in the direction of the city.

“You scoundrel!” roared the exasperated gentleman, “you’ve made me lose
my train!”

“I beg your pardon! I _really_ beg your pardon, sir!” answered the
traveller, in a meek voice, as he stooped to pick up his sample cases.
“It was horribly awkward of me, I know; but I’ve missed the train,
myself. There’s another at noon, however, so I’ll go back to the hotel
and get some breakfast.”

Mr. Jordan glared at him without reply. Then he decided to make the
best of his misfortune and return to the hotel for breakfast himself.

He walked into the office a little earlier than usual, deposited his
newspaper bundle beside his desk, and went to work as methodically and
calmly as ever. The clerks noticed no change in him. He was as positive
in his orders as usual, and his manner gave no indication of the fact
that he had secretly planned to abandon his post.

At ten o’clock Dr. Meigs came in, and was shown at once into Mr.
Williams’s private office. A few minutes later a clerk said to the
secretary:

“Mr. Williams wishes to see you, sir.”

Mr. Jordan glanced at the clock, and then at his bundle, and hesitated.
But a moment’s thought served for him to decide how to act, and with a
sullen frown upon his brow he arose and entered the private office.

“Sit down,” said Mr. Williams, pointing to a chair that faced both his
own and the one in which the doctor was seated.

Mr. Jordan obeyed.

“I want to tell you a story,” said his employer, gravely; “and I wish
you to listen to it carefully and without interruption.”

The man flushed, but answered nothing.

“About eleven years ago,” began Mr. Williams, “two men lived in Bingham
who were friends. One was a clerk in a bank, the other was a steel
manufacturer who was experimenting to find a better way to make his
product. He did, indeed, discover a new and valuable process, but at a
time when his fortunes were at a low ebb, and all his resources, save a
few hundred dollars, had been exhausted. Being unable to form a company
in America to manufacture his steel under the new process he decided
to go to Birmingham, England, where he thought he would have a better
opportunity to interest capitalists. He divided his remaining money
into two parts, taking half with him and leaving the remainder with his
friend to be applied for the use of his wife and three children until
he could send for them to join him, or return himself to support them.
This man, whom he thought he could trust, promised faithfully to care
for his friend’s family as if they were his own.”

Mr. Jordan was now regarding the narrator with interest, but there was
an amused and slightly scornful smile upon his thin lips.

“The inventor--let us call him John Carden--sailed on a White Star
steamer to England,” resumed Mr. Williams; “but that fact was known
only to his friend, who did not advertise it. Instead, he watched the
newspapers, and when he saw that a sailing vessel, the _Pleiades_,
which left New York about the same time that Carden did, had foundered
at sea and gone down with all hands on board, he went to the wife of
his friend with well-assumed horror and told her that her husband had
been upon this sailing ship, and was now dead. He even showed a letter
in her husband’s handwriting, carefully forged, stating that he had
arranged to sail on the _Pleiades_ from motives of economy. And here
was a newspaper report of the vessel’s loss. A very pretty plot to
get rid of John Carden, and it succeeded perfectly. Not only was all
Bingham soon aware that Carden was lost at sea, but slanderous stories
were circulated that he had run away to escape his creditors, and also
that he owned his false friend, Ezra Jordan, ten thousand dollars,
which he had borrowed to carry on his experiments--a story which Mr.
Jordan himself confirmed with hypocritical sighs.”

“Sir, you are insulting!” cried Jordan, springing to his feet with a
livid face. “I will hear no more of this lying tale.”

“Sit down!” was the stern command. “You must hear it either from me or
in a court of justice--perhaps both, before we are done.”

Mr. Jordan sat down.

“I am not sure that you realize the full horror of this abominable
crime,” resumed Mr. Williams. “It transformed a bright and happy
woman--happy--despite their impending poverty--in her husband’s love,
into a brokenhearted, crushed and desolate widow, whose only incentive
to drag her weary way through life was the necessity of caring for her
fatherless little ones. It was worse than murder, sir, for it prolonged
for years the suffering of a human heart.”

For a moment he paused, and in the stillness that ensued the doctor
could be heard muttering dreadful words, as if to himself. Indeed, he
could not trust himself to look at Mr. Jordan, who sat as motionless as
if turned to stone.

“Before Carden went away,” continued Mr. Williams, suddenly arousing
himself and speaking in a sharp, clear tone, “he left in a sealed
envelope an exact description of his secret process for making steel,
and gave it into his friend’s keeping with instructions that it must
not be opened unless he met with sudden death. In that case Jordan was
to lease or sell the process for the benefit of Carden’s family.”

“It’s a lie,” said Jordan, sullenly. “He transferred the right to me.
You have seen the paper.”

“A mere forgery,” declared Mr. Williams. “Long before I came to
Bingham, to find the man who could make such wonderful steel, you
had opened the sealed envelope and prepared the forged transfer of
all rights to yourself. I was very fully deceived, at that time; and
although you exacted from me excessive royalties for the use of the
process, I made a contract with you in good faith and built this
establishment.”

“Well, you have made a fortune out of it,” retorted Jordan, savagely.
“Why are you now hounding _me_, who gave you the opportunity to make
millions?”

“Because you are an unprincipled scoundrel, sir! Because you have never
been entitled to one dollar of the money I have paid you. The money
belonged to the family of John Carden, or to John Carden himself.”

“The Carden family has not suffered,” answered the man, moving uneasily
in his seat. “I’ve boarded with them, and always helped support them.”

The doctor uttered an exclamation that was like a roar, and clinching
his fists half started to rise from his chair. But Mr. Williams
restrained him with a look, and motioned him to have patience.

“Let us continue the story,” he said, “for its appalling details are
not half told. With John Carden well out of the way it was necessary
he should not return to life to confound his destroyer. This required
all of Jordan’s ingenuity. For Carden not only wrote to him, when he
had arrived in England, but he also wrote to his wife, and Jordan had
to watch the mails carefully in order to intercept these letters. If
one had reached Mrs. Carden the conspiracy would have been foiled. It
was a bold game, and I marvel even now that it succeeded. Carden found
friends in Birmingham almost at once, who saw the value of his process
and were eager to promote the manufacture of the new steel. The Atlas
Steel Company was formed, with Carden a large stock-holder, and soon
he had sufficient means to send for his wife and family. I am almost
sure that Jordan forged letters from Mrs. Carden to her husband about
that time, purporting to be answers to those she received, for in no
other way could his suspicions have been lulled. But the proofs of this
are missing. I know, however, that when Carden forwarded to Jordan the
money to enable his family to proceed to England, that Jordan kept the
money for his own uses, making various excuses to his friend to account
for the delay of the family in starting.

“His object in this was to work upon the husband the same horrible plot
that had succeeded in ruining the life of the wife. He was watching the
newspapers again.”

Jordan listened with his bald head thrust eagerly forward. His face was
white and terrified.

“After several months the opportunity came, for the devil seems to
favor his servants at times. The Italian steamer _Victor Chalfante_
went down in mid-ocean, in a terrible storm, and Jordan, on receipt of
the news, cabled John Carden that his family was on board.

“We may well imagine the agony of the unhappy husband and father when
he learned that his wife and children had been so suddenly swept
into eternity. Indeed, he wrote one pitiful letter to his old friend
that would surely bring tears to the eyes of any honest man. It is
here,” touching a bundle of papers with a gesture almost tender. “But
Jordan--Jordan the fiend, the worse than murderer--only chuckled
gleefully at the success of his plot. John Carden would never return to
America now, and Mrs. Carden would never be able to tell her husband
of the new steel mills that had been started in Bingham. Jordan was
triumphant, and began to accumulate the fortune which he had so
cleverly arranged to steal from his friend.

“He made two mistakes, however. One was that he forget that there is
an Almighty God watching over us all. The other was that he foolishly
intrusted all the incriminating papers in his conspiracy to a hollow in
an oak tree.”

“It’s false!” shouted Jordan, now fully beside himself and rising to
shake an impotent and trembling fist in Mr. Williams’s face. “It’s
false, and I can prove it. John Carden is dead, and the money is all
mine! John Carden is dead, and----”

“John Carden is alive!” cried a clear voice, as the door burst open to
admit the speaker. And then John Carden himself strode into the room,
followed by his son Will.

“Hurrah!” shouted the doctor, and springing to his feet he dashed at
his old friend and actually embraced him in the exuberance of his joy.
Chester D. Williams had never seen John Carden before; but the men
were not strangers, for all that, since Will had told his father all
the details of the great manufacturer’s history, and never wearied
singing his praises. So in a moment the two men had clasped hands, the
beginning of a friendship long to continue.

Jordan, shrinking back against the wall in abject terror at this
denouement, made a stealthy effort to escape through the open door, but
was halted by the burly form of the commercial traveller in the checked
suit, who suddenly occupied the doorway.

“Beg pardon, sir, but there’s no hurry,” said the fellow, with a grin.
“Better stay and see the fun. It’s going to be hot in a minute.”

Then he retreated and closed the door behind him, and Jordan turned to
confront the blazing eyes and sternly set features of the man he had so
bitterly wronged.

CHAPTER XVIII.

WILL’S BEST GIRL.

Man’s justice is helpless to punish adequately such crimes as Ezra
Jordan had been guilty of, and John Carden was so grateful for the
final restoration of his beloved wife and children that he was not
disposed to prosecute legally the false friend who had been responsible
for his years of anguish.

“Let us leave this criminal to a Judgment surer and mightier than
ours,” he said, and the others acquiesced in his decision.

But in the stormy interview that followed Mr. Williams stipulated
that Jordan, as a price of his personal freedom, should refund to
John Carden every penny of that vast sum of money of which he had so
treacherously defrauded him, and although it was worse than death to
the miser to disgorge his ill-gotten gains, he was forced to agree to
the proposition.

This being settled, Will was called upon for explanation, and related
the strange story of his finding his father in London. Mr. Carden
followed with a brief outline of his successful career in Birmingham,
where his wonderful process had made for him a great fortune and a
respected name.

The conference being now ended, Will and his father hurried away to
meet the mother and wife, who was as yet ignorant of the glad surprise
awaiting her. For father and son had gone straight to the office of the
steel works from the station, delaying only long enough to place Mrs.
Williams in the carriage that had been sent to whirl her home to the
waiting arms of her eager children.

As for Mr. Jordan, he was turned over to the mercies of the commercial
traveller and the little detective in plain clothes, who would see he
did not escape until he had fulfilled his obligation of refunding his
fortune to John Carden.

When Will and his father neared the cottage the boy went on ahead to
prepare his mother for the great surprise, and after she had clasped
him in her arms and hugged the boy to her heart’s content, (with Flo
dancing merrily around and Egbert smiling his pleasure at his brother’s
return,) he said to her earnestly:

“Mother, Mr. Jordan has been discovered to be a very wicked man.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” she exclaimed; “what has he done?”

“Why, he’s robbed father, for one thing, by stealing his secret and
selling it; and besides he tried to make us all believe father was
dead.”

She gave a sudden cry, at this, and clasped her hands above her heart.
Then, reading his face with questioning eyes, she managed to say:

“Speak, Will! What do you mean?”

“Why, father wasn’t lost at sea at all. He’s been in Birmingham all
this time.”

She swayed for an instant, as if about to fall. Then, drawing herself
tense, she said:

“If this is true, why did he never write to us? Why has he been silent
so long?”

“Because Mr. Jordan made him believe we were dead, too, and poor father
has been mourning for us all these years.”

“I--I don’t understand,” she murmured, brokenly. “How do you know all
this, my son?”

“Father told me. I met him in London, and he came back with me.”

A light seemed to break upon her, glorifying her worn face.

“Where is he, Will?”

“Here!” said a new voice, and John Carden stepped within the door and
held out his arms.

She fainted then, which was a very natural thing to do under such
trying circumstances; but when she regained consciousness she lay
happily within her husband’s close embrace, and now Will seized the
staring Flo by one hand and the confused Egbert by the other, and led
them softly from the room.

Great was the excitement in Bingham when the news of John Carden’s
return flew from lip to lip, together with the dreadful tale of Mr.
Jordan’s wickedness. When the latter had made restitution and slunk
away to some unknown part of the country, there was none to regret
his loss, but many willing to declare they had always mistrusted him.
Scores of citizens flocked to congratulate Mr. Carden and his wife, and
the poor woman was happier than she had ever been since the days when
her handsome and talented husband had first led her to the altar.

The two steel magnates talked over their business complications
together, and decided to form a partnership, continuing the manufacture
of the Carden Process Steel both in Bingham and in Birmingham, and thus
controlling the industry on both sides of the ocean.

And Mrs. Williams gave a big dinner to celebrate this important event,
and kissed Mrs. Carden very sweetly when she arrived upon the arm of
her distinguished husband. And Nora, so happy that she had to pause
frequently to wipe away the tears that gathered in her kindly eyes,
quite outdid herself in the preparation of the feast.

“Glory be!” she said to the imperturbable Thomas, “The Cardens, God
bless ’em! have come to their own again.”

Will and Annabel sat side by side at the table, smiling and contented
at being together. Even Reginald was on his good behavior, and Gladys,
who had conceived a violent love for her mother since that lady’s
return, was demure and silent. Flo sat next to Theodore, and Mary
Louise was beside Egbert, to whom, being pitiful of his deficiencies,
she was very attentive.

Merrier comrades were never seated at one table, and Will was the hero
of the hour. Mr. Williams made a neat speech, at dessert, praising the
boy so highly that his cheeks grew as red as cherries. Said he:

“We owe to Will the discovery of Mr. Carden--”

“Oh, no,” cried Will. “We owe that to Mrs. Williams.”

“And the dress suit,” added his father, with a smile and a proud glance
at his son.

“And we owe to Will the discovery of the papers in the oak tree,”
continued Mr. Williams.

“Why, that was Annabel!” said Will.

“Anyhow,” declared the doctor, who, with his napkin tucked under his
chin, was supremely happy, “we owe to Will those famous mushrooms we
have just eaten.”

“Oh, Doctor!” remonstrated Will. “You’re the head of the firm, and I’ve
no doubt you sold them to Nora at a big profit.”

They all laughed, then; but they were glad to laugh at the slightest
excuse to be merry. And it was an evening they all remembered as long
as they lived.

Having made such satisfactory arrangements with Mr. Williams to
continue the business at Bingham, Mr. Carden prepared to return to
Birmingham, taking with him Mrs. Carden and Flo and Egbert. For the
scene of his prosperity was to become his future home. It was arranged
that Will should remain in America and attend college, after which he
was promised Mr. Jordan’s place as secretary at the Bingham mills, in
order that he might represent his father’s American interests.

“We’re going to be partners, some day, my boy,” said Mr. Williams,
slapping Will’s shoulder with characteristic heartiness; “so hurry
through college, and get ready for work. And remember that every
vacation you are to come straight to my home.”

Of course Will was very happy at this prospect; and, because he must
enter Princeton in September, he devoted most of the days that remained
to him in driving or walking with Annabel.

One afternoon they met the doctor striding down the road with his stout
cane in one hand and his medicine case in the other.

He halted before Annabel and Will, scowling dreadfully.

“What’s this I hear about your going to college?” he asked the boy.

“It’s true.” said Will, smiling. “I’m afraid, Doctor, I’ll have to give
up growing mushrooms.”

“You will, eh? Well, sir, what’s going to become of those poor
grandchildren of mine?” growled the doctor.

“If they are ever in need, sir, I’ll agree to support them.”

“In that event, we’ll dissolve partnership,” said the old fellow, less
gruffly. Then he added:

“Put out your tongue!”

“What for?” asked Will

“You’ve got symptoms.”

“Oh what?”

“A disease that’s mighty common,” declared the other, with an amused
laugh at his own pleasantry; “but one that seldom proves fatal.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” said the boy, with downcast eyes.

Dr. Meigs turned suddenly to Annabel, chucking her playfully underneath
her chin before she could draw back.

“Aren’t you in this young lady’s company pretty often these days?”

Will straightened perceptibly, plainly showing his confusion. He
glanced shyly at Annabel who stood with downcast eyes, her face
suffused with blushes, then he blurted out:

“Of course I am. Annabel’s an old chum.”

THE END.

Transcriber’s Note

Punctuation has been standardised. Hyphenation and spelling have been
retained as they appear in the original publication. Changes have been
made as follows:

  Page 21
  “I don’t want to” wailed Gladys _changed to_
  “I don’t want to,” wailed Gladys

  Page 69
  care for the fire in the “of- _changed to_
  care for the fire in the “office.”

  Page 70
  when he heared a sound _changed to_
  when he heard a sound

  Page 106
  headaches that lay _changed to_
  headaches that day

  Page 108
  in and broug’t her top _changed to_
  in and brought her top

  came every morning crosslots _changed to_
  came every morning across lots

  Page 117
  eyes had been fixed calmy upon _changed to_
  eyes had been fixed calmly upon

  a the work we can _changed to_
  all the work we can

  Page 125
  and geting the secret _changed to_
  and getting the secret

  Page 134
  present at all these gaities _changed to_
  present at all these gaieties

  Page 140
  who was shrewed enough _changed to_
  who was shrewd enough

  Page 144
  you sold the the secret _changed to_
  you sold the secret

  Page 157
  shoulders and an erect bearng _changed to_
  shoulders and an erect bearing

  Page 164
  delight sight-seeing wth the good _changed to_
  delight sight-seeing with the good

  Page 170
  infomation that was now very useful _changed to_
  information that was now very useful