Rensselaer Republican, Volume 16, Number 15, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 December 1883 — AN ODD VENTURE. [ARTICLE]

AN ODD VENTURE.

Tom Morcambe was in love and in debt—two circumstances which considerably disturbed his equanimity. His pecuniary embarrassments ’were less serious than his love affair, for the former were of a temporary nature, while the latter threatened to be permanent. The combination made him restless and anxious to avoid the society of his fellow-men, so he packed up his portmanteau and started off to refresh his weary soul by a week’s solitude by the sad sea waves. Slocum-super-Mare was his destination, but when he arrived there he found, to his intense disthat the quiet seaport town was in a state of turmoil, being on the eve of a contested election. Not being pleased with this state of things, he moved on the next day to Morriston, a small fishing village a few miles up the coast. Tom was in an unsociable frame Of mind, and he never even looked at his fellow-passengers. The compartment in which he traveled was full, but he resolutely buried his face in the newspaper, and read steadily on till he reached his station. When the train slackened speed at Morriston, he dragged his' portmanteau off the rack and alighted on the platform wish a blessed sense of relief at the prospect of ft few days of absolute quietude. * The aspect of Morriston was eminently calculated to soothe his nerves, Tor at that period of the year he had the place all to himself. There was no other guest at the little inn where he took up his quarters: the native population was represented by a few children and old men; the bathing machines were drawn up high and dry above the deserted beach, and the most complete desolation prevailed. Tom Morcambe wandered for an hour or two along the seashore with perfect satisfaction, and then returned to the, inn. He undid the straps of his portmanteau and unlocked it in an absent frame of mind, but without any misgivings. He even began to throw the contents, pell-mell, upon the bed, when suddenly he awoke to the fact that there was something wrong. A gaudy pair of worked slippers first aroused his suspicions, and, upon further inspection, he perceived that the portmanteau, though it was the very counterpart of his own. evidently belonged to some one else. It immediately occurred to him that, in his hurried exit from the train, he had appropriated a strange portmanteau by mistake. At first he was disposed to blame his own carelessness, but he was not in a mood for self-abase- , ment. He therefore soon commenced to branch hearty imprecations at the head of the other fellow, and to speculate on what pad become of his own , property. ? . w From the point of view of equality of exchange there was not much to choose Between the two portmanteus and their respective contents; but when Tom reflected that his contained, among other things, a precious photograph and a lock of golden hair, he became angrily convinced that he had the worst of the bargain. He was seized with a feverish anaciety to recover his property, and finding among the stranger's luggage a sealed letter addressed to a Mr. Burrows, of Bilchester, a town about thirty miles off, he resolved to go on there immediately. Doubtless he would succeed, with the assistance of Mr. Burrows, in tracing the person who was the bearer of the letter. , Without a moment’s delay he called at Mr. Burrows’ residence, a modest house in the suburbs of the town. When the servant opened to door he handed her the letter rather unceremoniously, and requested to see her master; but the gm explained that Mr. Burrows was nut within, and that she didn’t know when he would return, so he contented Ipuiself with writing the name of his hotel on one of his cards, and leaving a message that he would call in the evening. t He returned to his hotel in an uu\amir.ble mood, but, having done ample justice to a capita'l dinner, he recovered his good htimdr. After all, his own portmanteau would turn up, sooner or later,, snd meanwhile he need feel no •Acrnple about ' making use of the stranger’s property., This reflection occurred to him while smoking a soothing cigar after a decent bottle of claret, and he consequently resolved io postpone his visit' to ME Burrrows’ till next morning. ’ Btrt just as he was thinking of going up stairs to bed, the waiter came and handed him a small parcel and a visitiryrcard. The parcel was neatly done upW brown paper, and bore no name

or inscription. The accompanying card, to his great surprise, was his own—the one ho had left at Mr. Burrows’ house. “What the deuce is the meaning pf this?” exclaimed Tom,, as the waiter prepared to leave the room. young person called just now and left tlie parcel for the gentleman whose name was on the card,” said the man, lingering. “Was there no message?” inquired Tom. “No, sir; only the parcel was to be given into your hands directly,” returned the waiter, '• Tom began to perceive that there had been a misunderstanding. No doubt the parcel had been sent by Mr. Burrows in consequence of the letter he had delivered, and was intended for some one else. It was rather a strange proceeding to return a visitor’s card, but probably the messenger had bungled over his, mission. The most likely explanation seemed to be that Mr. Burrows, imagining that the bearer of the letter had left the wrong card by mistake, had sent it back with the parcel, At all events Tom was too sleepy to speculate over 1 the matter, and he therefore carried the parcel upto his room, intending to return it when he called upon Mr. Burrows’ in the morning. He was rather surprised at the weight proportion to its size, and when he got upstairs he was seized with curiosity to know what it contained. As it bore no address, he felt, under the circumstances, justified in opening it, and he therefore cautiously undid the wrapper. Inside the brown paper covering was a neat deal box, also without address or, inscription. It was hailed down, but the fastening was by no means formidable. After a few minutes’ hesitation Tom whipped out his pocket-knife and pried open the lid sufficiently to be able to take a peep inside. , Another covering—tissue paper this time —baffled his curiosity, but on lifting the edge of this he beheld a gleam of gold. His amazement now overcame his scruples, and without more ado he wrenched off' the lid completely. “Sovereigns, by Jove! The box is literally full of them,” he muttered bellow his breath. Tom eould hardly believe his eyes, but he soon convinced himself that he was not mistaken. The sovereigns were neatly arranged in closely-packed layers, and as far as he could judge, the box contained .£'soo at least. He proceeded to do up the parcel again in an absent manner, while he speculated upon the meaning of Mr. Burrows conduct. Even assuming the box was intended for someone else, it seemed extraordinary proceding to leave such a large sum of money at a hotel in such a reckless way. He had previously ascertained that Mr. Burrows was a retired tradesman of very good repute, and from all accounts he appeared to be the last person to commit such a rash and unbusinesslike action, y-te?-This singular incident somewhat disturbed Tom’s night’s rest, for it seemed as though fate had placed in his hands the means of freeing himself of his pecuniary embarrassment. There was nothing to prevent his appropriating the money and making off with it, and as it was all in gold there would be but little risk of detection. Of course, he was too honorable to seriously entertain such a project; still, the temptation was so vivid that he quite longed to disembarass himself of his treasure. Accordingly he set forth as early as possible next morning to Mr, Bnrroiys’ house with the parcel under his arm. He sent in his card and was ushered into a small sitting-room; but, after a short interval, the servant returned with a message that her master was to unwell to see him. “I called about this parcel,” said Tom. “It was left at my hotel last night, and I think there must be some mistake. Will you ask Mr. Burrows. The servant disappeared again, but presently brought back word that Mr. Burrows did not understand what he was alluding to, and knew nothing about any parcel. “What!" exclaimed Tom, in amazement. “Why, it was left at my hotel last night with the card which I delivered into your hands at the door yesterday afternoon. Of course, I imagined it must have come from Mr. Burrows.” Bujxqks. says anything about it,” said the girl, looking mystified. — “You gave him my card, I s suppose, and the note ?” said Tom, after a pause of astonishment. “Yes, sir! directly he came in,” said the servant. “This is most extraordinary. Just go up to your master again, my girl, and repeat whet I have told you. You might also ask him if he would kindly let me know the contents of the note I delivered,” he added, as an afterthought. Before Tom had time to collect his scattered ideas, the servant came back again, looking rather scared, with an envelope in her hand, which he recognized as the note he had brought the day before. “Master has forbidden me to come hear him again,” said the servant,laying the note on the table. “He is in a dreadlul passion. He says it’s a cock-and-bull story, but you’re welcome to see the letter.” “A cock-and-bull story, d is it?” growled Tom, snatching up the letter. “It strikes me I'm being made a fool of, anyway. Hullo! what does this mean?” He had opened the envelope, and found it contained nothing but a plain sheet of letter paper and a card. The latter bore the name of • • ••••• •••• : Mr. A. C. Strawbridge, : • • ; Solicitor, > I • • : . ■ Slocum. : J ' and beneath was written in pencil: “Bearer suspects nothing.” “Well, I’m . Listen my girl; this is all nonsense,” broke forth Tom, impetuously. Here I am landed" with a confounded parcel that I know noth’

ing about., •Go and tell your master 1 must see him—or, at all events, ask him’ what" I am to do with this thing.” “I dusn’t go pear him, sir,” said the girl, shrinking back. “Besides, he particularly said I' wasn’t to take/ the parcel. He says- he’ knows nothing about it,” “Very well, then,” said Tom /in desperation., “It is all a mistake, but if he won’t see me, I shan’t take any more trouble.” With this Tom marched out of the house in a great state of virtuous indignation, but with an odd sensation that fatq had decreed he should ( keep the money. He would have left the parcel with the servant in spite of Mr. Burrow’s injunction, if he could only have felt that he was doing right. It seemed hardly likely, however, that a person Avould deny all knowledge of sueh a consignment, if he were really the sender. It is true that Tom was inclined to doubt Mr. Burrows’ veracity on this point, but, after all, he might be mistaken. He hurried back to his hotel and questioned the waiter who had taken in the parcel. The man, however, adhered to his story, and was quite certain that Mr. Buyrows’ name had never been mentioned. After all. , the only circumstance which connected that gentleman’s name with the parcel was the accompanying card which had been left at-the house, and Tom had done his best to follow up this clue. As there appeared to be no one in the hotel who expected to receive a parcel, Tom resolved to apply to Mr. Strawbridge, of Slocum, to elucidate the mystery. In his excitement he had forgotten all about his missing portmanteau; but it now o?cured to him that Mr. Strawbridge could explain the whole affair; for Tom still suspected that the parcel had been intended for the messenger who carried the letter, and upon reflection he felt more and more convined that Mr. Burrows, for some mysterious reason, had deliberately attempted to deceive him. Tom therefore traveled to Slocum by the earliest train, revolving these things in Ims mind, and at the end of the journey, having recollected the impending election, he had formulated his ideas a little. He was hardly surprised to learn that Mr. Strawbridge was the Conservative agent, and, though it had been given out that the election was to be conducted on party principles, he began to feel a little suspicious. He called upon Mr. Strgwbridge at his office, but discovered that he was attending a noisy meeting of his party at the as-sembly-rooms. Tom waited patiently until the proceeding broke up, and then tooK tiie eaiiient opportunity to accost him. Unfortunately, Mr. Strawbridge was a fussy, self-important individual, and little suspecting the delicate nature of Tom’s communication, he declined to accede to his request for a private interview, but roughly requested- him to state his business on the spot. His manner put Tom’s back up, and although there were several persons in hearing, Tom did not hesitate to inform him that owing to an accidental circumstance he had been entrusted with a box of sovto deliver to him. Tom then proceeded to detail the facts of the case, and his story caused-a perceptible stir among the bystanders. “Pooh! pooh! It’s all nonsense,” interposed Mt. Strawbridge, turning very red, and glancing apprehensively aroUnd him. “But what did the note mean then?” cried Tom, not relishing the statement. “The money was sent to me because I was believed to be your messenger.” “Hullo, Strawbridge!” exclaimed a voice from the crowd, significantly. “Gentlemen, I assure you this is an unworthy mameuvre of our opponents,” said Mr. Strawbridge, raising his voice. “It is an attempt to convict me of bribery and corruption. I know nothing about the parcel. This young man has been sent here to prejudice our candidate, and to spread damaging rumors,” “Shame! shame!” burst from the excited bystanders; and Tom, who was by no means disposed to take this rebuff calmly, suddenly became the object of popular indignation. Before be had time or opportunity for remonstrance, his hat was crushed over his eyes, and he was violently ejected into the street. But he clung to the precious parcel with dogged determination, and man* -aged. to. easily it Tom was a hot-tempered fellow, but he had a pretty shrewd eye to his own interests. After what had passed, he guessed that, neither Mr. Burrows nor Mr. Strawbridge would be anxious to claim the box of sovereigns, which he considered himself entitled to retain by way of damages for the injuries he had sustained. He took the next train to town, and paid the money into his banking account, and then wrote to bbth of tte stowtratared geutlem pressing his willingness to refund the money to whichever was entitled to it, upon receiving a satisfactory explanation. Strange to say, neither of these communications elicited any reply, and from what he afterwards gathered from the local press, Tom is inclined to believe that he will remain in undisputed possession of his spoil.— London Truth.