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Updated: June 9, 2025
The chat went on in the usual way for a time, during which Tom discovered that the visitor showed considerable interest in him. His eyes continually turned in his direction, and he asked him a question now and then. The youth was too modest to intrude in the conversation, but knew how to express himself when asked to do so. By and by the questions of Mr. Warmore became quite pointed.
Warmore was a reserved man. He was kind, but just, toward his clerks.
"That's my opinion of you," he said, turning about and walking off, before the agitated Mrs. Warmore could thank him. "I suppose I've done it," he mused, when in the highway and walking toward Farmer Pitcairn's. "Catherwood never did like me and now he hates me. If Miss Jennie keeps up her course toward him, he will hate me more than ever. He will not rest till he gets me out of the store.
His son was engaged in successful business in New York, and urged his father to join him, where he would be a partner. So he left. His successor in the establishment of Mr. Warmore, instead of being Tom Gordon, was G. Field Catherwood. It was a surprise to every employee of Mr. Warmore. To Tom Gordon it was also a keen disappointment. He had never doubted that the plum would fall to him.
"He cannot know much about me, though we have had several talks together." "He talked, too, with Mr. Pitcairn here, as I did myself." "Yes," said the farmer, "he asked me many questions about you, and so did Mr. Warmore the other day when I was in his place." "I keep the largest store in Bellemore. I have kept it for forty years, as did my father before me.
Detective Lathewood was prompt, and met him at his gate. They walked briskly along the highway, until they entered the town and approached the large establishment which had been in the possession of the Warmore family for the better part of a century. The merchant's familiarity with his own premises enabled him to enter by a back way, without attracting the attention of the watchman or any one.
"A boy of that age changes very much in a few years." "He could never change so as to grow out of my recollection," said Jennie with a positiveness that made Tom Gordon smile. "And of all the strange things that were ever done by a child," said Mrs. Warmore, "none ever equalled what Jennie did while floating in the water." "Indeed, what could that be?" "Tell him yourself, daughter."
Hold your breath while we gather our muscles for the effort, for when we land, it is at a point four years from the day when Tom Gordon entered the employ of Josiah Warmore, the leading merchant in the town of Bellemore, on the Hudson. There have been many changes in those years, but in some respects slight differences could be noted. It would be hard to tell from looking at Mr.
"I wasn't quite sure," remarked Mr. Warmore, turning aside among the trees, where he could talk with the detective without the possibility of being seen or overheard. "Well," said the merchant in a guarded voice, "what is it?" "It was a dirty piece of business to throw suspicion on that young Gordon. He is as innocent as you or I." "What did you learn about him?"
It was at the close of a mild day in early summer that he was sitting on the front porch of his new home, talking with Mr. Pitcairn and his wife, when a carriage stopped in front, and an elderly gentleman stepped down, tied his horse, and opened the gate. "Why, that's Mr. Warmore," said Farmer Pitcairn to his wife, as he rose to greet his visitor, who walked briskly up the graveled path.
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