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I placed the packet on the shelf; someone put it away a short time later, and I have not touched it since. That is all I can say, Mr. Goodwyn," he went on, with an expression on his young face that might either mean sincerity or brazen boldness, according to the way one chose to look at it. "But no one saw you come out of the safe that day.
"But my business is important, to me anyway. I have come to see him about a position here," said Dick, calmly. "Then you had better see Mr. Goodwyn, the cashier. He has charge of all the employing; Mr. Gibbs never troubles himself in that line. First window around the corner there." "But I have an engagement with Mr. Gibbs.
Goodwyn, smiling. Dick was more than pleased at these few words of praise from this source, the very first he had ever received from Mr. Goodwyn; his face flushed, and he drew a long breath as if inclined to thank the cashier, but realizing that this was not called for he turned to depart. "By the way, Mr. Goodwyn, don't you think it would be wise to have this packet placed in the safe right away?
Goodwyn would be apt to condemn you off-hand. Just make up your mind to be unusually careful, that's all." "See here, Pliny, you have some reason for telling me this, haven't you," demanded the other, anxiously. Again his companion cast that instinctive hasty look around him, and the reason was obvious, for Mr.
Goodwyn, who it happened had a couple of little kids at home himself. Mr. Winslow seemed to be worried as he strode along at the side of the messenger. "I really hope there's nothing in this affair, Dick," he said, kindly. "Make your mind easy on that, sir; there isn't an atom of truth about it. I know nothing about the package or what it contained, any more than you do.
Goodwyn; up in the corner is this firm address: 'Cassidy and Prime, Stock Brokers, Boston!" The cashier took the envelope, and then said huskily: "This begins to appear like a serious thing for you, Morrison. I really feel sorry for your mother. Sit down again; I am not yet through with you!" Somehow or other Dick did not seem to be greatly alarmed by these significant words of Mr. Goodwyn.
Gibbs in person rather than through the medium of the teller, Ross Goodwyn, a small keen-eyed young-old man with a bald head, and doubtless the capacity to fit him for his responsible job, but whom Dick had never liked; twice he had talked with him on matters connected with his mother's affairs, and each time the cashier had seemed to take a cruel pleasure in making him "feel small," as Dick himself expressed it.
Goodwyn, for, on its face, he feared that it would only serve to make his case more serious; since the fact would become evident that he knew the value of the papers in the packet. He had just reached the point where he took that one peep through the little knothole, and saw Mr.
Take pains to stick a pin in that, Mr. Goodwyn, please; the boy was enough interested in that particular packet to look and see if it was still there! Now, tell me just why you thought anything about it, boy?" exclaimed Mr. Graylock, scowling as he bent forward the better to stare into the face of the one under suspicion.
Winslow believed he would never be able to trust any lad again. Hurrying forward they were soon at the base of the tree, Dick having his eyes fixed upon the white paper that had become caught in the twigs of the brush. "It's the letter, all right, sir. Please take it out yourself. Mr. Goodwyn would not trust me to touch it, I'm afraid," he said, a little bitterly.
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