African Camp Fires | Page 7

punctual," answered Mr.
Phillips.
"I gave your young man a check for a hundred and five dollars."
"Thank you."
And the two men passed their respective ways.
On Mr. Phillips's return to his store, Martin rendered his account of
collections, and, to the surprise of his employer, omitted the one in
regard to which he had just been notified.
"Is this all?" he asked, in a tone that sent a thrill of alarm to the guilty
heart of his clerk.
"Yes, sir," was the not clearly outspoken answer.
"Didn't Garland pay?"
"N-n-o, sir!" The suddenness of this question so confounded Martin,
that he could not answer without a betraying hesitation.
"Martin!" Astonishment, rebuke, and accusation were in the voice of
Mr. Phillips as he pronounced his clerk's name. Martin's face flushed

deeply, and then grew very pale. He stood the image of guilt and fear
for some moments, then, drawing out his pocket book, he brought
therefrom a small roll of bank bills, and a memorandum slip of paper.
"I made these collections also." And he gave the money and
memorandum to Mr. Phillips.
"A hundred and fifty dollars withheld! Martin! Martin! what does this
mean?"
"Heaven is my witness, sir," answered the young man, with quivering
lips, "that I have never wronged you out of a dollar, and had no
intention of wronging you now. But I am in a fearful strait. My feet
have become suddenly mired, and this was a desperate struggle for
extrication--a temporary expedient only, not a premeditated wrong
against you."
"Sit down, Martin," said Mr. Phillips, in a grave, but not severe, tone of
voice. "Let me understand the case from first to last. Conceal nothing,
if you wish to have me for a friend."
Thus enjoined, Martin told his humiliating story.
"If you had not gone into the way of temptation, the betrayer had not
found you," was the remark of Mr. Phillips, when the young man ended
his confession. "Do you frequent these eating and drinking saloons?"
"I go occasionally, sir."
"They are neither safe nor reputable, Martin. A young man who
frequents them must have the fine tone of his manhood dimmed. There
is an atmosphere of impurity about these places. Have you a younger
brother?"
"Yes, sir."
"Would you think it good for him, as he emerged from youth to
manhood, to visit refectories and billiard saloons?"
"No, sir, I would do all in my power to prevent it."
"Why?"
"There's danger in them, sir."
"And, knowing this, you went into the way of danger, and have fallen!"
Martin dropped his eyes to the floor in confusion.
"Bland is a stool-pigeon and you were betrayed."
"What am I to do?" asked the troubled young man. "I am in debt to
him."
"He will be here to-morrow."

"Yes, sir."
"I will have a policeman ready to receive him."
"O, no, no, Sir. Pray don't do that!" answered Martin, with a distressed
look.
"Why not?" demanded Mr. Phillips.
"It will ruin me."
"How?"
"Bland will denounce me."
"Let him."
"I shall be exposed to the policeman."
"An evil, but a mild one, compared with that to which you were rushing
in order to disentangle yourself. I must have my way, sir. This matter
has assumed a serious aspect. You are in my power, and must submit."
On the next day, punctual to the hour, Bland called.
"This is your man," said Mr. Phillips to his clerk. "Ask him into the
counting-room." Bland, thus invited, walked back. As he entered, Mr.
Phillips said,--
"My clerk owes you a hundred and fifty dollars, I understand."
"Yes, sir;" and the villain bowed.
"Make him out a receipt," said Mr. Phillips.
"When I receive the money," was coldly and resolutely answered.
Martin glanced sideways at the face of Bland, and the sudden change in
its expression chilled him. The mild, pleasant, virtuous aspect he could
so well assume was gone, and he looked more like a fiend than a man.
In pictures he had seen eyes such as now gleamed on Mr. Phillips, but
never in a living face before.
The officer, who had been sitting with a newspaper in his hand, now
gave his paper a quick rattle as he threw it aside, and, coming forward,
stood beside Mr. Phillips, and looked steadily at the face of Bland, over
which passed another change: it was less assured, but not less
malignant.
Mr. Phillips took out his pocket-book, and, laying a twenty-dollar bill
on the desk by which they were standing, said,--
"Take this and sign a receipt."
"No, sir!" was given with determined emphasis. "I am not to be robbed
in this way!"
"Ned," the officer now spoke, "take my advice, and sign a receipt."

"It's a cursed swindle!" exclaimed the baffled villain.
"We will dispense with hard