A DISCOVERY
Luke was in Chicago, but what to do
next he did not know. He might have advertised
in one or more of the Chicago papers for James Harding,
formerly in the employ of John Armstrong, of New York,
but if this should come to the knowledge of the party
who had appropriated the bonds, it might be a revelation
of the weakness of the case against them. Again,
he might apply to a private detective, but if he did
so, the case would pass out of his hands.
Luke had this piece of information
to start upon. He had been informed that Harding
left Mr. Armstrong’s employment June 17, 1879,
and, as was supposed, at once proceeded West.
If he could get hold of a file of some Chicago daily
paper for the week succeeding, he might look over
the last arrivals, and ascertain at what hotel Harding
had stopped. This would be something.
“Where can I examine a file
of some Chicago daily paper for 1879, Mr. Lawrence?”
he asked of the clerk.
“Right here,” answered
the clerk. “Mr. Goth, the landlord, has
a file of the Times for the last ten years.”
“Would he let me examine the
volume for 1879?” asked Luke, eagerly.
“Certainly. I am busy just
now, but this afternoon I will have the papers brought
down to the reading-room.”
He was as good as his word, and at
three o’clock in the afternoon Luke sat down
before a formidable pile of papers, and began his
task of examination.
He began with the paper bearing date
June 19, and examined that and the succeeding papers
with great care. At length his search was rewarded.
In the paper for June 23 Luke discovered the name of
James Harding, and, what was a little singular, he
was registered at the Ottawa House.
Luke felt quite exultant at this discovery.
It might not lead to anything, to be sure, but still
it was an encouragement, and seemed to augur well
for his ultimate success.
He went with his discovery to his friend the clerk.
“Were you here in June, 1879, Mr. Lawrence?”
he asked.
“Yes. I came here in April of that year.”
“Of course, you could hardly
be expected to remember a casual guest?”
“I am afraid not. What is his name?”
“James Harding.”
“James Harding! Yes, I
do remember him, and for a very good reason.
He took a very severe cold on the way from New York,
and he lay here in the hotel sick for two weeks.
He was an elderly man, about fifty-five, I should
suppose.”
“That answers to the description
given me. Do you know where he went to from here?”
“There you have me. I can’t
give you any information on that point.”
Luke began to think that his discovery
would lead to nothing.
“Stay, though,” said the
clerk, after a moment’s thought. “I
remember picking up a small diary in Mr. Harding’s
room after he left us. I didn’t think it
of sufficient value to forward to him, nor indeed
did I know exactly where to send.”
“Can you show me the diary?” asked Luke,
hopefully.
“Yes. I have it upstairs
in my chamber. Wait five minutes and I will get
it for you.”
A little later a small, black-covered
diary was put in Luke’s hand. He opened
it eagerly, and began to examine the items jotted down.
It appeared partly to note down daily expenses, but
on alternate pages there were occasional memorandums.
About the fifteenth of May appeared this sentence:
“I have reason to think that my sister, Mrs.
Ellen Ransom, is now living in Franklin, Minnesota.
She is probably in poor circumstances, her husband
having died in poverty a year since. We two are
all that is left of a once large family, and now that
I am shortly to retire from business with a modest
competence, I feel it will be alike my duty and my
pleasure to join her, and do what I can to make her
comfortable. She has a boy who must now be about
twelve years old.”
“Come,” said Luke, triumphantly,
“I am making progress decidedly. My first
step will be to go to Franklin, Minnesota, and look
up Mr. Harding and his sister. After all, I ought
to be grateful to Mr. Coleman, notwithstanding his
attempt to rob me. But for him I should never
have come to the Ottawa House, and thus I should have
lost an important clue.”
Luke sat down immediately and wrote
to Mr. Armstrong, detailing the discovery he had made—a
letter which pleased his employer, and led him to
conclude that he had made a good choice in selecting
Luke for this confidential mission.
The next day Luke left Chicago and
journeyed by the most direct route to Franklin, Minnesota.
He ascertained that it was forty miles distant from
St. Paul, a few miles off the railroad. The last
part of the journey was performed in a stage, and
was somewhat wearisome. He breathed a sigh of
relief when the stage stopped before the door of a
two-story inn with a swinging sign, bearing the name
Franklin House.
Luke entered his name on the register
and secured a room. He decided to postpone questions
till he had enjoyed a good supper and felt refreshed.
Then he went out to the desk and opened a conversation
with the landlord, or rather submitted first to answering
a series of questions propounded by that gentleman.
“You’re rather young to
be travelin’ alone, my young friend,” said
the innkeeper.
“Yes, sir.”
“Where might you be from?”
“From New York.”
“Then you’re a long way from home.
Travelin’ for your health?”
“No,” answered Luke, with
a smile. “I have no trouble with my health.”
“You do look pretty rugged,
that’s a fact. Goin’ to settle down
in our State?”
“I think not.”
“I reckon you’re not travelin’
on business? You’re too young for a drummer.”
“The fact is, I am in search
of a family that I have been told lives, or used to
live, in Franklin.”
“What’s the name?”
“The lady is a Mrs. Ransom.
I wish to see her brother-in-law, Mr. James Harding.”
“Sho! You’ll have to go farther to
find them.”
“Don’t they live here now?” asked
Luke, disappointed.
“No; they moved away six months ago.”
“Do you know where they went?” asked Luke,
eagerly.
“Not exactly. You see,
there was a great stir about gold being plenty in
the Black Hills, and Mr. Harding, though he seemed
to be pretty well fixed, thought he wouldn’t
mind pickin’ up a little. He induced his
sister to go with him—that is, her boy wanted
to go, and so she, not wantin’ to be left alone,
concluded to go, too.”
“So they went to the Black Hills.
Do you think it would be hard to find them?”
“No; James Harding is a man
that’s likely to be known wherever he is.
Just go to where the miners are thickest, and I allow
you’ll find him.”
Luke made inquiries, and ascertaining
the best way of reaching the Black Hills, started
the next day.
“If I don’t find James
Harding, it’s because I can’t,” he
said to himself resolutely.