“Now, Mr. Albert Benton,” said Tom Cooper sternly, “what are you doing here in our room?”
In spite of his assurance Albert Benton did not know what to say.
“I—I was in search of some old linen to wrap round my ankle,” he stammered.
“And so you entered our room, and broke open my chest?”
“I hope you will excuse me, I was indiscreet,” muttered Benton.
“That is a very mild way of putting it,” retorted Tom. “Benton, you are a thief.”
“Do—you—mean—to insult me?” asked Benton.
“Yes, if the truth insults you. Shall I tell you what you were after?”
Benton did not reply, and Tom Cooper resumed: “You thought we kept our gold-dust in that chest.”
“The less you say about your honor the better,” returned Tom, with contempt. “Grant, what shall we do with him?”
Benton began to be alarmed. Tom Cooper was a young giant. He had been brought up to his father’s business, and his muscles were as firm and strong as steel. Benton knew very well that he would be like a child in his grasp.
“Spare me,” he said, “and I will not trouble you any more.”
“I don’t think you will if you know what is best for yourself. But you deserve to be punished for what you have already done. Grant, open the window.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Benton, in alarm.
Tom seized the thief, and bore him in his strong arms to the window. He held him outside, making a futile resistance, and then dropped him.
The distance to the ground was only fifteen feet, and Benton landed on all-fours, a little jarred, but not seriously hurt.
“Now,” said Tom, leaning out, “you had better leave this neighborhood as expeditiously as possible, or I will brand you as a thief, and let the citizens take what course they choose.”
Benton knew very well that in California at that time thieves were not tolerated, and were often strung up to a tree without ceremony. He felt that he had better not stand upon the order of his going, but go at once.
“Let me go into the house and get my things,” he said submissively.
“Have you settled up your board bill with Mrs. Crambo?”
“Let the board go!” said Mrs. Crambo, who was on the stairs. “All I ask is that he shall go himself, and never come back.”
Benton crept upstairs, and, getting his small satchel, left the house. Where he went Tom and Grant did not learn, nor did they care.