News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1883-08-23

and that was the sneaking sort of liking
that Hardness seemed to have for her
and worse, he showed it plainly enough
by the way he prosecuted her with his
odious attentions whenever he got the
chance She told me she would leave
the place if she could only get another.
[ have said that it was sixteen years
ago that [ entered the box-factory. II
you will take the trouble to subtract,
you will find that makes 1867. 1t puts
us Just in the year of the great financial
crash. [ had been in the factory about
three months, and was getting used to
the general run of things; and though
| it was out of my line, and none
of my business, I could not but no.
| tice how slack trade seemed to be.
Rumors of failures up the street,
down the street, on the corner, at Nos.
35 and 81 over the way met my ears.
Rumors of failure past and failures to
| come, Rumors OF great distress East,
West, and South. Rumors of threat.
ened general smash-up. Money men tel
me that when the market is tight it only
needs such a wholesale panic to bring
down every one. tits the apprehension,
not the reality that does the work. But
this is not telling my story, either.
Well, old Harkness kept on with his
manufacturing, though could see that,
day by day, fewer calls for work were
made. He always wore a cheerful smile
through those troublous times, as much
as to say: 'Look at me, if you want to
see model man of business. [ don't
speculate. I don't get involved. Mark
my consequent prosperity" Now, when
l see man with good deal of bluster
and swagger about him, I always make
up my mind that he is a coward in
hear. And when some people parade
their financial sOundness, the Wall-st.
animals always snuff rottenness some
where. It must have been on this
principle that 1 began to suspect that
Hardness wasn't so safe, after all.
One night I was delayed by an unex-
pected breakdown in gearing, and staid
in my cellar long after the girls, the
clerk and the fireman had gone, hard to
work tinkering at the engine. No one
was in the factory but Hardness and
myself. [ do not think he suspected my
presence. As [ was taking off my over
alls and fixing up, [ heard a heavy dray
come up to our door, There were four
or five men with it, who were not our
regular cartmen. They jumped out,
were let in through the half-closed doors
of the main floor above me, and were led
upstairs by Hardness. Presently they
reappeared, bearing cases of various
kinds of stock, fancy paper, gliding
stuff, light machinery and different odds
and ends, with which they loaded the
dray, and then drove off again. All was
done III such a quiet, mysterious way,
that it was evident that something
wrong was being done. What could it |
be ? The men were not robbers, for |
there was Mr.. Hardness, and he sole
owner Of the factory A man does not
commit a larceny on his own property. |
L couldn't make it out at all.
I started to go. Just as I entered the |
office from below, Hardness came in by
the passage way door from the floor
above. He started perceptibly when he
saw me, but instantly regained his COM
posure, and said, as cool as you please:
"Ah you're late, Bill. What's wrong
to-day? Hope yOu won't blow us up
for a week or so yet. We're doing
staving business, Bill" Il think I
see him now, washing his hands with |
invisible soap in impercepible water"
with that self-satisfed, hypoctrical Ieer
on his face.) ''Just sent load of fine
boxes down to the Winged Arrow. She
sails tomorrow, so we had to ship in
hurry. Fine boxes, and beautiful YES
sci, Bill. Good night to you"
Good night, sir, said L, and left.
AS went up the street another dray
passed, driven toward the factory. I
had the curiosity to turn and watch to see
it, too, stopped there. It did,
and when 1 reached the corner of Broad
way 1 stopped and looked back once
more. There, in the darkening twilight,
the same process of hurried loading was
being repeated. 1t seemed to be all
right. Harkness was there, but some
how [ wasn't quite satisfied. Trimming
machines are not fine assorted gilt-edged
boxes, by any manner of means, you
know. And 1 knew it, too, though,
very likely, old Hardness didn't give me
credit for being so well posted. Well, |
if [ couldn't settle the question, the next |
best thing was tosgive it up. And give
it up [ did.
Next morning 1 went over, as usual,
to the factory. Jim, the stoker, opened |
the doors always, he had to be early to
tend to the fires, which we banked
every night Iexpected to see jim. but
was much surprised when [ saw Hark-
ness. This time it was he who came up
through the cellar door and [ through
the other. As before, we met unex-
pectedly. Now it was my turn to be
surprised. He was intensely pale, and
seemed much agitated. with a strong
effort of the will he strove to conceal his
strange manner. He endeavOred to
speak calmly, and half succeeded.
"Bill, said he, ''Jim has tended to
the engine, it's all right; come outside
with me, [ want to talk with you.
He turned to the cellar door and
shouted:
"Jim, come up, come up at once.
Run over to Mr.. Bent's private house
you know where that is-and tell him not
to discount that bill to-day. Be quick :"
eyes sir, coming" sung out Jim,
leisTely.
Suddenly he tore up the cellar steps.
His face was ten shades palcr than
Harkness's, an expression of horror was
fixed on his features expression of
agony and fear that | shall never forget
1t haunts me still. 1t will stay by me
till my dying day. Poor fellow, he's
gone, too, since then. Jim hardly
stopped in his wild flight, as he hoarsely
IL