Chapter XI: In Jail

"WHAT can this mean, husband? I can't understand a word of it," exclaimed Mrs. Olmstead one day, about a month after the accident described in the last chapter, as she held a soiled piece of paper before her, trying to decipher its meaning. "Just listen. It begins:

"'Dear Mrs. Olmstead, my very kind friend.' Then at the bottom it says,
'from Arthur Thompson.'

"Now what can he be writing to me for? If 'twas the first of April, I should say 'twas an April fool, though our boy wouldn't be guilty of such nonsense."

"Is that all the letter contains?"

"No, indeed, husband; but it's written so scrawly and with a pencil, on this dirty, crumpled paper, I can't make it out. I wish I'd kept the boy who left it at the door, and asked him where it came from. I know Arthur wouldn't write on such paper when I gave him a writing-desk full of nice sheets at Christmas."

"You'd better call Hepsah, and let her spell it out. The child may be in trouble."

Hepsah soon appeared and seizing the paper began to read:

"DEAR MRS. OLMSTEAD,

"My very kind friend. Something dreadful has happened to me, but I hope you will not think I did it. I am in prison, and I have cried until I can't see very well. I told a man who locked me in that I didn't know anything about the money being bad; and he promised to send his boy with this letter. I have been praying to God, and now I feel better. Perhaps he will take me out of prison as he did the Bible Joseph. If he does not, I must stay here and be tried in the court room. I am not afraid to let God look into my heart. He knows I didn't mean to do wrong, only to be obliging.

"From ARTHUR THOMPSON."

"Poor little, abused lamb," ejaculated Hepsah throwing up her hands. "We'll soon have you out, dear, though I can't understand what you're in for."

She left the room in a hurry, but soon returned with her bonnet and cloak on, and with an air of determination about her which showed that the prison doors would have to be very strong which kept her from her darling.

"I'm going straight to Mr. Irvington's wharf," she said; "and I shall get him to go with me. I shall not come home without my boy; but Ann can get tea and help you with the care of Mr. Olmstead."

"Tell Arthur we are sure he has done nothing for which he ought to be put into prison," urged the old gentleman. "Have you money enough, Hepsah? Wife will give you her purse, and don't be afraid to spend it to bring our boy home."

The hours lagged heavily. The streets began to be dark. Then the lamps were lighted, but still Hepsah did not return. And at last Mrs. Olmstead grew so impatient that she told Ann to run round to the next street and ask whether Mr. Irvington was at home.

While she was getting ready to go, the bell rang and the gentleman made his appearance.

"Where's Hepsah?" they both inquired.

"In jail," was the smiling reply. "I left her sitting upon an iron stool with Arthur's head in her lap. I was really afraid, at one time, that she'd be obliged to stay in jail on her own account for contempt of court, as the lawyers say."

"What does it mean? What has Arthur done?"

"The little fellow cried so I could scarcely make it out. But it seems he was on his way to school when he met a boy by the name of Joseph Hickie, my wife knows him well, who put a fifty-dollar bill into his hand, and asked him to go into a shop and change it. They were near an apothecary's store, and Arthur anxious to oblige the boy, who was once his friend, went up to the counter, procured the change and gave the bills to Joseph, who was waiting around the corner, and who immediately ran off.

"Arthur walked on toward schoolhouse, but had not reached it, when a man ran after him, seized him roughly and led him back to the store. The bill was a well executed counterfeit, and Arthur was charged with wilfully putting it into circulation."

"Oh dear! I dare say the poor creature didn't know a counterfeit from a good bill," cried Mrs. Olmstead. "I hope you told them how it happened."

"Arthur had told them; and the police were already on the watch for Joseph, whom they knew well as a street beggar. If they find him, Arthur may possibly be let off without a trial. I used all my influence to procure his release to-night, but I could not do it, and so Hepsah staid to comfort him."

"She said she should not come back without him," urged the old lady wiping her eyes.

Then the aged couple descanted to Mr. Irvington in praise of the orphan child. What a comfort he had been through Mr. Olmstead's confinement, and indeed ever since he came to the house, how ready to run here and there to relieve Mrs. Olmstead from trouble. He had been regularly to market, and had carried the bills for rent to their tenants, that even his step was as soft as a girl's, and his voice sweeter to them than music.

"I liked him ever after I saw him go to work on the chips with a will," answered the gentleman warmly. "If I had no son, I should have asked my wife to adopt him, and I think she would have consented. He would be a comfort to any parents."

Mrs. Olmstead looked in her husband's face; and he returned the glance.

"We never thought we might do that," she murmured.

"We will do it," decided the sick man.

"Your lawyer will inform you in what manner to make the adoption legal," suggested Mr. Irvington. "I have always thought it cruel to educate a child with expectations that never were to be realized. I mean in regard to property."

"If I live till to-morrow, I will see to that," said Mr. Olmstead.

It was nearly ten when the visitor arose to leave. He was just promising to go to the jail early in the morning, when there was a loud ring at the front door. And presently Hepsah walked in leading poor Arthur.

The child looked as though rising from a bed of sickness. Before Hepsah reached him, he had cried until his tears were dry. His face was colorless with an expression of suffering on every feature.

On his entrance, Mrs. Olmstead went forward and caught him in her arms.

"Poor child," she said, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Mr. Irvington noticed that the boy staggered, and advised that he bid Mrs. Olmstead good-night, and go directly to bed.

The next morning, when the doctor called to see his patient in the library, Hepsah was waiting to accompany him to Arthur's room. The surprise and shock of the preceding day had set the poor boy into a fever.