Others, after years of straightforward life, have fallen. So it
might be that, though he had given full trust to Tom Gordon, he was not
worthy to receive that trust. This half-belief caused the chill in his
treatment of the young man, so different from that to which he had been
accustomed. Before making up his final judgment, however, Mr. Warmore
resolved that every vestige of doubt should be removed. He sent for Mr.
Fyfe Lathewood, one of the shrewdest detectives in New York City, told him
all the circumstances, and ordered him to find out the whole truth, no
matter what it cost, or where it might strike.
The detective had been at work the better part of a week, without any one
in Bellemore suspecting his identity or business. On the afternoon of the
day in which Tom Gordon checked the runaway pony of Miss Warmore, the
detective dropped into the store, as any stranger might have done, made a
few trifling purchases, and then turned and walked out. As he did so, he
managed to pass close to the proprietor, who was standing at the front,
and whispered:--
"_It isn't Gordon; I'll see you to-night_.
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