CHAPTER XVII. OLIVER LOSES HIS PLACE.

O LIVER re-entered the store and went up to Mr. Bond, who was standing behind the counter awaiting his return.

"Have you brought back the receipt?" asked his employer, before he had a chance to speak.

"No, sir."

"Why not?" demanded Bond, frowning.

"There was some mistake, Mr. Bond. The letter you gave me contained no money."

"Contained no money! What do you mean?" exclaimed the storekeeper.

Oliver briefly related the circumstances, repeating that the letter contained no money.

"Do you mean to tell me such an unblushing falsehood," demanded Ezekiel Bond, "expecting me to believe it?"

"Mr. Bond," said Oliver, with dignity, "it is just as I say. There was no money in the letter."

"Silence!" roared Bond, working himself up into a premeditated excitement. "I tell you I put the money in myself. I think I ought to know whether there was any money in it."

"It is very strange, sir. I saw Mr. Norcross open the letter. If he had taken any bill out, I should have seen it."

"I presume you would," sneered Bond. "I dare say he did find the letter empty."

Oliver looked puzzled. He was not yet prepared for an accusation. He attributed Mr. Bond's anger to his annoyance at the loss of twenty dollars. He kept silent, but waited to hear what else his employer had to say.

"I can understand this strange matter," continued Ezekiel, with another sneer. "I am not altogether a fool, and I can tell you why no bill was found."

"Why, sir?"

"Because you opened the letter and took the money out before you reached the tailor's."

He was about to say more, but Oliver interrupted him by an indignant denial.

"That's a lie, sir!" he said hotly. "I don't care who says it."

"Do you mean to tell me I lie?" exclaimed Ezekiel Bond, purple with rage.

"If you charge me with stealing the money, I do!" said Oliver, his face flaming with just indignation.

"You hear that, John Meadows?" said Ezekiel, turning to his other clerk. "Did you ever hear such impudence?"

John Meadows was not a coward nor a sneak, and he had not the slightest belief in Oliver's guilt. To his credit, he dared manfully to avow it.

"Mr. Bond," he answered, "I don't believe Oliver would do such a thing. I know him well, and I've always found him right side up with care."

"Thank you, John," said Oliver gratefully. "I am glad there is one who believes I am not a thief."

"You don't believe he is guilty because you are honest yourself, John," said Mr. Bond, willing to gain over his older clerk by a little flattery. "But how can it be otherwise? I put the money very carefully in the envelope. Oliver put it in his pocket, and when he hands the letter to Mr. Norcross it is empty."

"Are you sure you put the money in, sir?" asked John.

"Am I sure the sun rose this morning?" retorted Mr. Bond. "Of course, I am certain; and I am morally certain that Oliver took the money. Hark, you! I will give you one chance to redeem yourself," he continued, addressing our hero. "Give me back the money and I will forgive you this time."

"Mr. Bond," said Oliver indignantly, "you insult me by speaking in that way! Once for all, I tell you that I don't know anything about the money, and no one who knows me will believe your charge. You may search me if you want to."

"It would do no great good," said Bond sarcastically. "You have had plenty of chances to dispose of the money. You could easily pass it over to some confederate."

"Mr. Bond," said Oliver, "I see that you are determined to have people believe me guilty. I think I understand what it all means. It is a conspiracy to destroy my reputation. You know there was no money in the letter you sent by me."

"Say that again, you young rascal, and I will give you a flogging!" shouted Ezekiel Bond, now really angry, for he was conscious that Oliver spoke the truth, and the truth is very distasteful sometimes.

"I don't think you will," retorted our hero undauntedly; "there are policemen in the city, and I should give you in charge."

"You would, would you? I have a great mind to have you arrested for theft."

"Do, if you like. I am willing to have the matter investigated."

It was evident that in attempting to frighten Oliver Mr. Bond had undertaken a difficult job. He would really have liked to give Oliver in charge, but he knew very well that he could prove nothing against him. Besides, he would be exceeding the instructions which Mr. Kenyon had given him, and this he did not venture to do. There was, however, one way of revenge open to him, and this was in strict accordance with his orders.

"I will spare you the disgrace of arrest," he said, "not for your own sake, but for the sake of my esteemed uncle, who will be deeply grieved when he hears of this occurrence. But I cannot consent any longer to retain you in my employment. I will not ask my faithful clerk, John Meadows, to associate with a thief."

"I don't care to remain in your employment, Mr. Bond. I would not consent to, until you retracted your false charge. As to you, John," he continued, turning to John Meadows, with a smile, "I hope you are not afraid to associate with me."

"I guess 'twon't hurt me much," said John courageously. "I think Mr. Bond has made a great mistake in suspecting you."

"You judge him by yourself," said Mr. Bond, who chose not to fall out with John. "You may do as you please, but I can no longer employ a suspicious character."

"Good-morning, Mr. Bond," said Oliver proudly. "I will lose no time in relieving you of my presence. John, I will see you to-night."

"One word more," said his employer. "I shall deem it my duty to acquaint my uncle with my reasons for dismissing you. I know it will grieve him deeply."

"I think he will manage to live through it," said Oliver sarcastically. "I shall also send him an account of the occurrence, and he may believe whichever of us he pleases."

Oliver took his hat and left the store.

"I fear he is a hardened young rascal, John," Bond remarked to his remaining clerk, with a hypocritical sigh. "My uncle warned me that I might have trouble with him, when he first placed him here."

"I never saw anything bad in him, Mr. Bond," said John. "I am sorry he is gone."

"He has deceived you, and I am not surprised. He is very artful—exceedingly artful!" repeated Ezekiel, emphasizing the adverb by prolonging its pronunciation. "I don't mind the loss of the money so much as I do losing my confidence in him. So young, and such a reprobate! It is sad—sad!"

"He does it well," thought John. "What a precious old file he is, to be sure! I don't believe old Kenyon is any better, either. They come of the same stock, and it's a bad one."

Before the store closed for the day, Ezekiel said:

"Shall you see Oliver to-night?"

"I expect to, sir."

"Then I will trouble you to give him this money—six dollars. I owe him for half a week, and it was at that rate my uncle requested me to pay him. Twelve dollars a week! Why, he might have grown rich on that, if he had remained honest."

"I wish you would give me the same chance, Mr. Bond," said John. "I can't rub along very well on eight."

"Don't ask me now, just after I have been robbed of twenty dollars. I can't afford it."

"I wish I could get another place," thought John. "I should like to work for a man I could respect, even if he didn't pay me any more."