In sending Grit to Boston instead of the regular messenger, President Graves had acted on his own responsibility, as he had a right to do, since it was a matter to be decided by the executive. He might, indeed, have consulted the directors, but that would have created delay, and might have endangered the needful secrecy. When, however, Grit returned and reported to him that his mission had been satisfactorily accomplished, he informed the directors of what had been done at a special meeting summoned at his own house. All approved the action except Mr. Courtney, who was prejudiced against Grit, and, moreover, felt offended because his own counsel had not been asked or regarded.

"It seems to me," he said, with some heat, "that our president has acted in a very rash manner."

"How do you make that out, Mr. Courtney?" interrogated that official.

"It was actually foolhardy to trust a boy like Grit Morris with a package of such value."

"Why?" inquired Graves.

"Why? He is only a common boy, who makes a living by ferrying passengers across the river."

"Does that prevent his being honest?"

"A valuable package like that would be a powerful temptation to a boy like that," asserted Courtney.

"The package was promptly delivered," said Mr. Graves dryly.

"He says so," sneered Courtney.

"Pardon me, Mr. Courtney, I have had advice to that effect from the Boston bank," said the president blandly.

"Well, I'm glad the danger has been averted," said Courtney, rather discomfited. "All the same, I blame your course as hazardous and injudicious. I suppose the boy was afraid to appropriate property of so much value."

"I think, Mr. Courtney, you do injustice to Grit," said Mr. Saunders, another director. "I am satisfied that he is strictly honest."

"Perhaps you'd be in favor of appointing him regular bank messenger," said Courtney, with a sneer.

"I should certainly prefer him to Ephraim Carver."

"I consider Carver an honest man."

"And I have positive proof that he is not honest," said the president. "I have proof, moreover, that he was actually in league with the man who plotted to rob the bank."

This statement made a sensation, and the president proceeded:

"Indeed, I have called this extra meeting partly to suggest the necessity of appointing in Carver's place a man in whom we can repose confidence."

Here he detailed briefly the conversation which Grit overheard between the bank messenger and Colonel Johnson. It impressed all, except Mr. Courtney.

"All a fabrication of that boy, I'll be bound," he declared. "I am surprised, Mr. Graves, that you should have been humbugged by such a palpable invention."

"What could have been the boy's object in inventing such a story, allow me to ask, Mr. Courtney?"

"Oh, he wanted to worm himself into our confidence," said Courtney. "Very likely he wished to be appointed bank messenger, though that would, of course, be preposterous."

"Gentlemen," said President Graves, "as my course does not seem to command entire approval, I will ask those of you who think I acted with discretion to signify it."

All voted in the affirmative except Mr. Courtney.

"I regret, Mr. Courtney, that you disapprove my course," said the president; "but I continue to think it wise, and am glad that your fellow directors side with me."

Soon after the meeting dissolved, and Mr. Courtney went home very much dissatisfied.

Nothing was done about the appointment of a new messenger, the matter being postponed for three days.

When Mr. Courtney went home he did a very unwise thing. He inveighed in the presence of his family against the course of President Graves, though it was a matter that should have been kept secret. He found one to sympathize with him—his son Phil.

"You don't mean to say," exclaimed that young man, "that Grit Morris was sent to Boston in charge of thirty thousand dollars in bonds?"

"Yes, I do. That is just what was done."

"It's a wonder he didn't steal them and make himself scarce."

"That is in substance what I said at the meeting of the directors, my son."

"I wish they'd sent me," said Phil. "I should have enjoyed the trip."

"It would certainly have been more appropriate," said Mr. Courtney, "as you are the son of one of the directors, and not the least influential or prominent, I flatter myself."

"To take a common boatman!" said Phil scornfully. "Why, Mr. Graves must be crazy!"

"He is certainly a very injudicious man," said his father.

"Do you believe Carver to be dishonest, father?"

"No, I don't, though Graves does, on some evidence trumped up by the boy Grit. He wants to supersede him, and it would not at all surprise me if he should be in favor of appointing Grit."

"How ridiculous! What is the pay?" asked Phil.

"Six hundred dollars a year, I believe," said Courtney.

"Can't you get it for me?" asked Phil eagerly.

"I don't think it would be suitable to appoint a boy," returned Courtney. "That is my objection to Grit."

"Surely I would be a better messenger than a common boy like that."

"Of course, you come of a very different family. Still, I prefer a man, and indeed I am in favor of retaining Ephraim Carver."

Phil would really have liked the office of bank messenger. He was tired of studying, and would have found it very agreeable to have an income of his own. He got considerable sums from his father, but not sufficient for his needs, or, rather, his wishes. Besides, like most boys of his age, he enjoyed traveling about, and considered the office a light and pleasant one.

"What a fool Graves must be," he said to himself, "to think of a common boatman for such a place! He'd better stick to his boat, it's all he's qualified for. I'd like to put a spoke in his wheel."

He left the house, and a short distance up the street he met Ephraim Carver, who had come back to town in obedience to Colonel Johnson's suggestion, to learn what he could about the mysterious package.

"I'll see what I can learn from him," thought Phil.

"Good morning, Mr. Carver," he said.

"Good morning, Philip."

"You've been to Boston lately, haven't you?"

"I wonder whether he has heard anything about the matter from his father," thought Carver.

"Yes," he answered.

"You didn't happen to meet Grit Morris there, did you?" asked Phil.

"Grit Morris!" exclaimed Carver, in genuine surprise.

"Yes, didn't you know he had been to Boston?"

"No; what business had he in Boston?" asked the messenger.

"None of his own," answered Phil significantly.

"Did any one send him?"

"You had better ask Mr. Graves," said Phil, telling more than he intended to.

"Why didn't Mr. Graves get me to attend to his business?" asked Carver, still in the dark.

"I didn't say Graves had any business of his own. He is president of the bank, you know."

"But I attend to the bank business. I am the messenger."

"Perhaps you don't attend to all of it," said Phil, telling considerably more than he intended when the conversation commenced.

"Tell me what you know, Phil, about this matter. It is important for me to know," said Carver coaxingly. "I know you don't like Grit, neither do I. If he is trying to curry favor with Mr. Graves, I want to know it, so as to circumvent him."

Before Phil quite knew what he was saying, he had revealed everything to Carver, adding that Grit was after his place.

The bank messenger now understood why the package entrusted to him was a dummy, and who carried the real package. He lost no time in sending information to Colonel Johnson, in Portland.

The gentleman was very much excited when he learned in what way he had been circumvented.

"So it was a boy, was it?" he said savagely. "That boy must be looked after. He may find that he has made a mistake in meddling with affairs that don't concern him."