Jed, the Poorhouse Boy

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

THE DETECTIVE SECURES AN ALLY

"Are you in communication with Guy Fenwick? Do you know whether he is now at Fenwick Hall?" asked the detective.

"No, he is not there."

"Where is he, then?"

"At sea. In a day or two he will probably be in New York," answered Jane Gilman coolly.

Mr. Peake started. This was unexpected intelligence.

"What brings him to New York?" he inquired hastily.

"I do."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I wrote him some time since for a hundred pounds. He sent me five pounds and told me that I needn't call on him again."

"He doesn't seem much afraid of you."

"No; he thought the boy was dead."

"I suppose you told him so?"

"I let him think that the boy had died of fever four years ago. That made him feel safe, and he concluded that he had no more use for Jane Gilman. He'll find out!" and Jane tossed her head, in an independent manner.

"Have you any letters from him in reference to the matter?" asked Detective Peake.

From a pocket of unknown depth Miss Gilman drew out an epistle which she handed to the detective.

"You can read it if you want to," she said.

Mr. Peake opened the letter and read it. It ran thus:

Miss Jane Gilman:

Your letter requesting me to send you a hundred pounds is received. Your request is certainly an audacious one. Why I should send you a hundred pounds, or even ten pounds, I am at a loss to imagine. The boy Robert, whose existence you think would be dangerous to me, is dead by your own admission, and my right to the Fenwick title and estates is undisputed and indisputable. If you expect me to support you for the balance of your life, your expectations are doomed to disappointment. You are strong and healthy, and are able to earn your own living in the sphere in which you were born. Besides, if you had been prudent you would have saved a considerable sum out of the large pension you have received from me during the last dozen or more years. I think it quite probable that you have a snug sum invested and are not in any danger of suffering.

Still I don't want to be hard upon you. I accordingly inclose a five-pound note, which you will please consider as a final gift on my part.

"Miss Gilman," said Detective Peake, "will you permit me to keep this letter—for the present?"

"What do you want to do with it?" asked Jane suspiciously.

"Use it against the man who calls himself Sir Guy Fenwick. In connection with your testimony it will prove valuable evidence."

"You have promised that I shall be well paid?"

"Yes, I can take it upon myself to promise that."

"Very well. You may keep the letter."

"One question more. You tell me that Sir Guy Fenwick is on his way to New York. Can you tell me why he is coming?"

"Yes. I dropped him a hint, in answer to this letter, that the boy Robert was still living, and this alarmed my gentleman," she added with a laugh.

"Did he write you that he was coming?"

"Yes."

"Have you that letter?"

"No; but I can tell you what was in it. He wrote that he did not believe my story, but he would come to New York, and I might call upon him at the Brevoort House on Monday next."

"You infer from that that he was anxious?"

"It looks like it, doesn't it?"

"Yes. What did you propose to say to him?"

"That the boy was living, and that I could lay my hand upon him."

"That is why you came to Scranton?"

"Yes."

"I see. The whole thing lies in a nutshell. Even without your evidence I shall probably be able to establish the rights of my young client. But your help will make it surer."

"I am at your service, if you will keep your promise. What do you want me to do?"

"Go with me to Bar Harbor and see the boy."

"I would like to," said Jane Gilman with an expression of pleasure. "I haven't seen him since he was a baby. I'd like to see how he looks now."

"When he is restored to his title and estate he will not see you suffer."

"When will you start for Bar Harbor?"

"We shall leave Scranton by the next train."

CHAPTER XXXIX.

JED LEARNS WHO HE IS

Mr. Roper and Jed were having a very enjoyable time at Bar Harbor. They made trips, chiefly on foot, to the various interesting localities—Schooner Head, Great Head, Hull's Cove and The Ovens—being favored with unusually fine and clear weather. They had just returned at four o'clock in the afternoon from a trip to the summit of Green Mountain when they were informed at the hotel that a gentleman wished to see them.

Mr. Roper took the card and examined it.

"James Peake," he said. "I don't know of any such person. Do you, Jed?"

"No, sir," answered Jed.

"You may bring him up," said Roper, turning to the bell boy.

In less than a minute the latter reappeared, followed by a plain-looking man, who scanned both attentively as he entered, but devoted the most attention to Jed.

"Mr. Peake?" said Schuyler Roper interrogatively.

"Yes, sir."

"You have business with me?"

"Rather with your young friend. Is he known as Jed Gilman?"

"Yes," answered the boy so designated.

"I am a detective from the staff of Inspector Byrnes of New York."

Jed blushed and looked uneasy. This announcement naturally alarmed him.

"Am I charged with any offense?" he asked quickly.

"No," answered Mr. Peake with a pleasant smile. "When I state my business I am inclined to think you will be glad to see me."

"I feel relieved, Jed," said Mr. Roper with a smile. "I took you without a character, and I trembled lest some terrible charge was to be brought against you."

"Rest easy on that score, Mr. Roper," returned the detective. "My mission may involve some one else in trouble, but not your young friend. Will you permit me to ask him a few questions?"

"I am sure he will be quite ready to answer any questions you may ask."

Jed nodded assent.

"Then, Mr. Gilman, may I inquire your age?"

"I am sixteen."

"What is the date of your birth?"

Jed colored and looked embarrassed.

"I do not know," he answered.

"Can you tell me where you were born?"

"No, sir," returned Jed. "I was left at the age of two years at the Scranton poorhouse by a girl who disappeared the next morning. Of course I was too young to know anything of my earlier history."

"Exactly; and you spent the intervening years at that interesting institution."

Jed laughed.

"It didn't prove very interesting at the last," he said. "When my good friends the Averys were turned out, Mr. and Mrs. Fogson succeeded them, and I concluded to leave."

"I am not surprised to hear it. I have seen Mrs. Fogson," remarked the detective dryly.

"Did she give me a good character?"

"Quite the contrary. She prepared me to find you a desperate young ruffian."

Jed laughed.

"Do I come up to your expectations?" he asked.

"Not altogether. I may conclude that you have no information in regard to your family or parentage?"

"No, sir. Can you"—something in the detective's face prompted the question—"can you give me any information on the subject?"

Jed fixed his eyes with painful intensity upon the visitor.

"I think I can," he answered.

"Who, then, am I?"

"To the best of my knowledge you are the nephew of Sir Guy Fenwick, of Fenwick Hall, Gloucestershire, England."

Both Mr. Roper and Jed looked exceedingly surprised.

"Sir Guy Fenwick?" repeated Roper.

"He is so called, but I have reason to believe he is a usurper, and that the title and estates belong to your young friend, who, if I am correct, isn't Jed Gilman, but Sir Robert Fenwick."

Jed looked dazed. Schuyler Roper went up to him and grasped his hand.

"My dear Jed, or rather Robert," he said, "let me be the first to congratulate you. But, Mr. Peake, are you prepared to substantiate Jed's claim to his title and inheritance?"

"I think so. I will tell you how the case stands."

When he had concluded, Mr. Roper asked, "And where is this nurse whose testimony is so important?"

"At Rodick's. I brought her with me to Bar Harbor."

"And what is your program?"

"I should like to carry our young friend with me to New York to confront the pseudo baronet."

"We will be ready whenever you say. I say we, for I propose to accompany Jed—I beg pardon, Sir Robert—and stand by him at this eventful period."

"Call me Jed, Mr. Roper, till I have proved myself entitled to the other name," returned the "poorhouse boy."

CHAPTER XL.

GUY FENWICK'S DEFEAT

Sir Guy Fenwick sat in his handsome apartment at the Brevoort House. He was of slender build and dark complexion, bearing a very slight resemblance to Jed, but his expression was much less agreeable.

"Jane Gilman was to have called this morning. She ought to be here now," he muttered, consulting his watch. "She is certain to come," he added with a sneer, "for she wants money. I shall never be safe from annoyance while she lives. However, she can do me little harm."

There was a knock at the door, and a bell boy appeared with a card.

Sir Guy took it from his hand, and regarded it with surprise.

"Mr. James Peake!" he repeated. "What does he want?"

"I don't know, Sir Guy."

"Let him come up, but the interview must be brief, for I am expecting another party."

Directly afterward Detective Peake entered the presence of the baronet.

"You wish to see me, Mr.—ahem!—Mr. Peake?"

"Yes. Mr. Fenwick?"

"Mr. Fenwick!" repeated the Englishman, frowning. "I am Sir Guy Fenwick."

"I am aware that you call yourself so," said the detective quietly.

"What do you mean by this insolence?" demanded Guy Fenwick, his face flaming.

"You will understand me when I say I call in behalf of Sir Robert Fenwick, the real baronet."

Guy Fenwick half rose from his seat. He looked angry and alarmed.

"I don't know what you mean," he said.

"I think you do. Sir Robert is your nephew, and the title and estate are his by right."

Guy Fenwick laughed—a harsh, mirthless laugh.

"Really," he said, "this is most amusing. Robert Fenwick is dead. If any one calls himself by that name he is an impostor."

"That remains to be seen. I have to inform you that Sir Robert Fenwick is in this city, in the company of his mother, who has received and acknowledged him."

"This is a conspiracy!" exclaimed Guy Fenwick, whose appearance showed that he was deeply disturbed. "It is a very foolish conspiracy, I will add. Of course I understand the object of my amiable sister-in-law in giving her countenance to what she must know to be an imposture. Do me the favor to inform me where you discovered the boy who impudently claims the title and estate which I inherited from my brother."

"Only by procuring the disappearance of that brother's lawful heir."

"Who says this—who dares say it?"

"You are partially acquainted with a woman named Jane Gilman?"

Guy Fenwick's countenance changed.

"Yes," he said after a pause, "I do know a woman of that name. She has been writing me blackmailing letters, and threatening to injure me if I did not send her a hundred pounds. So this is the mare's nest you have stirred up? I congratulate you."

"Call it a mare's nest if you like, Mr. Fenwick," said the detective undisturbed. "You may find it a very serious matter. Shall I tell you what we are able to prove?"

"If you please. I should like to know the details of this base conspiracy."

"Fourteen years ago Jane Gilman appeared towards nightfall at the door of a poorhouse not far away and left a child of two years old with the people in charge. Before morning she disappeared. The child grew up a healthy, sturdy boy; frank and handsome."

"So he prepared himself to claim the Fenwick title in an almshouse?"

"It wasn't his fault that he was brought up there, only his misfortune."

"What name was given him?"

"Jed Gilman."

"He had better retain it."

"Not while he has a better claim to the name of Robert Fenwick. Hanging from his neck at the time he was placed in the poorhouse was a locket containing miniatures of your brother, the late Sir Charles Fenwick, and Lady Mary Fenwick, still living."

"Have you the locket with you?"

"It is in safe custody. You will admit that this is pretty strong evidence of our claim. But we have in addition the confession of Jane Gilman, who testifies that, in obedience to your instructions, she abducted and disposed of the boy as aforesaid."

"This is a very cunning conspiracy, Mr. Peake, if that is your name, but it won't succeed. I shall defend my right to the title and estate; but if this boy is poor I don't mind settling a pension of a hundred pounds upon him, and finding him some employment."

"In his name I decline your offer."

"Then I defy you! What are you going to do about it?"

"Lady Fenwick has engaged the services of one of our most famous lawyers, and legal proceedings will be commenced at once. We will, however, give you a week to decide on your course."

"Give me the name of your lawyer. I will call upon him and show him that he has consented to aid an imposture."

Before the week ended, however, Sir Guy, to give him this title once more, had decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and had consented to surrender the title and estates, his nephew agreeing to pay him an income of a thousand pounds per annum, in order that he might still be able to live like a gentleman.

When matters were arranged Guy Fenwick returned hastily to England, and, making but a short stay there, went to the continent, where he would not have the humiliation of meeting old acquaintances whom he had known in the days of his grandeur.

CHAPTER XLI.

CONCLUSION

Not the least gratifying circumstance in his sudden change of fortune was Jed's discovery of a mother—a gracious and beautiful woman—to whom he was drawn in almost instinctive affection. Before leaving New York for his native land he expressed a wish to revisit Scranton, and view once more the scenes of his early privations. His mother not only consented, but decided to accompany him.

Mr. and Mrs. Fogson were engaged in their usual morning labors when a handsome carriage stopped at the gate. A servant descended and made his way to the front door, which Mrs. Fogson herself opened.

"Madam," said the servant bowing, "do you receive visitors?"

Mrs. Fogson espying the handsome carriage was dazzled, and responded graciously:

"We ain't fixed for company," she said, "but if you'll make allowances I shall be happy to receive visitors. Who is it?" she inquired curiously.

"Lady Fenwick and Sir Robert Fenwick, of Fenwick Hall, England."

"You don't say!" ejaculated Mrs. Fogson, awe-stricken. "Tell 'em to come right in."

Jed assisted his mother to alight and walk up to the front door, Mrs. Fogson having retreated inside to change her dress.

"And you say you lived in this forlorn place, Robert?" asked Lady Fenwick with a shudder.

"For fourteen years, mother."

"I never can forgive Guy Fenwick—never!"

"I am none the worse for it now, mother."

Jed led the way into Mrs. Fogson's private sitting-room, where that lady found them. She stopped short at the threshold.

"Why, it's Jed Gilman!" she said sharply, with a feeling that she had been humbugged.

"Mrs. Fogson," said Jed, gravely, "I am Jed Gilman no more. I have found out that I am entitled to a large estate in England, but best of all I have found a mother, and am no longer alone in the world."

Mr. Fogson, who had followed his wife into the room, was the first to "take in" the surprising news. Jed's handsome suit, his gold watch-chain and diamond scarf-pin, as well as his mother's stately figure, convinced him that the story was true.

"No one is more glad to hear of your good fortune, my dear boy, than Mrs. F. and myself," he said in a gushing tone. "I have often thought that you were a nobleman in disguise."

"You never let me suspect it, Mr. Fogson," said Jed, amused. "Probably you didn't want to raise my expectations."

"Just so, Jed, I mean Sir Robert. We feel that it was an honor to have you so long under our roof—don't we, Mrs. F.?"

"Certainly, Simeon. If Lady Fenwick will permit me to offer an humble collation, some of my ginger snaps; you remember them, Jed, I mean Sir Robert."

"You are very kind," said Lady Fenwick hastily, "but I seldom eat between meals."

Just then Percy Dixon, who came with a message from his father, appeared in the door. He opened his eyes wide in amazement when he saw Jed.

"Jed Gilman!" he exclaimed in astonishment.

"No, Master Percy," said Mrs. Fogson. "We have just learned that our dear Jed is Sir Robert Fenwick, of Fenwick Hall, England."

"Jehoshaphat!" cried Percy, astounded.

"Percy," said Jed, whose good fortune made him good-natured, "let me introduce you to my mother, Lady Fenwick. Mother, this is Master Percy Dixon."

"I am glad to meet any of your friends, Robert," said Lady Fenwick, really supposing that Jed and Percy were on intimate terms.

"Glad to know you—to make your acquaintance, Lady Fenwick," replied Percy. "Are you really and truly a lord, Jed?"

"No, not a lord, but a baronet. However, that needn't make any difference between friends like ourselves."

"No, of course not. You know I always liked you, Jed, I mean Sir Jed."

"Sir Robert," prompted Mr. Fogson.

"Sir Robert. I feel sort of confused by the sudden change," explained Percy embarrassed.

"Call me Jed, then. In Scranton I mean to be Jed."

"Won't you call at our house? My father, Squire Dixon, will be honored by a visit."

"We are to call on Mr. and Mrs. Avery first, and then if we have time we will call on you. Won't you get into the carriage and go with us, Percy?"

Percy Dixon accepted the invitation with intense delight, and long afterwards boasted of his ride with Lady Fenwick. Though Jed and his mother were able to spend but ten minutes at the house of Squire Dixon, the squire showed himself deeply sensible of the honor, and several times alluded to his dear young friend Sir Robert. It was the way of the world. Mr. and Mrs. Avery received from Lady Fenwick a handsome present in recognition of their past kindness to Jed, and this was the first of many.

Jed and his mother remained at the Windsor till they were ready to embark for England. While walking on Fifth Avenue one day he saw just ahead his little friend, Chester Holbrook, accompanied by his aunt, Miss Maria Holbrook. He hurried forward, and taking off his hat to Miss Holbrook, said, "Chester, don't you remember me?"

Chester uttered a cry of delight.

"Why it's Jed!" he said.

Miss Maria Holbrook, surprised at Jed's improved appearance, eyed him with suspicion.

"Where are you staying, Jedediah?" she inquired. "Have you a situation?"

"I am boarding at the Windsor Hotel, Miss Holbrook. I am in no situation."

"Then how can you afford to board at a first-class hotel?" asked the spinster in surprise.

"I am with my mother, Lady Fenwick. Allow me to hand you my card."

Jed placed in her hand a card on which was engraved the name:

The story had already appeared in the daily papers of New York, but Miss Holbrook never suspected that the young English baronet was Chester's humble guardian.

"Are you Sir Robert Fenwick?" she ejaculated in amazement.

"I believe so," he answered with a smile. "Now, Miss Holbrook, I have a favor to ask. May I take Chester in and introduce him to my mother?"

"I should also like to meet Lady Fenwick," said Miss Holbrook.

"I shall be most happy to present you."

"Isn't your name Jed after all?" asked Chester, as he confidingly placed his hand in that of his former guardian.

"You may call me so, Chester; I wish you would."

Miss Maria Holbrook was delighted with her visit. Like many Americans, she had a great respect for English aristocracy, and did not understand that there was considerable difference between titles. It is wonderful how differently she came to regard one whom she had been accustomed to style "that boy Jedediah." She was much pleased with Lady Fenwick's gracious reception, though she found it difficult to think of her as Jed's mother.

I neglected to say in the proper place that Jed did not fail to call, when in Scranton, on his two friends Dr. and Mrs. Redmond, and gave them a cordial invitation to visit his mother and himself if they should ever come to England.

He did not see fit to extend a similar invitation to Mr. and Mrs. Fogson. Misfortune has come to these worthy people. Their mismanagement of the poorhouse had become so notorious that the best citizens of Scranton not only demanded their removal from the poorhouse, but at the next town meeting defeated Squire Dixon for re-election to the position of Overseer of the Poor. Mr. and Mrs. Avery were invited to succeed the Fogsons, but felt that they were entitled to rest and quiet for the balance of their lives. The liberal gifts of Jed and his mother made them independent, and they were willing that younger persons should fill their old positions.