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diff --git a/20808.txt b/20808.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5945b97 --- /dev/null +++ b/20808.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10513 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Three People, by Pansy + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Three People + +Author: Pansy + +Release Date: March 13, 2007 [EBook #20808] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THREE PEOPLE *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Emmy and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + + + +THREE PEOPLE + +BY +PANSY + + AUTHOR OF "LOST ON THE TRAIL," "TIP LEWIS AND + HIS LAMP," "ESTER RIED," "FOUR GIRLS AT CHAUTAUQUA," + "CHAUTAUQUA GIRLS AT HOME," ETC. + +[Illustration] + + BOSTON + LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. + + + + +[Illustration] PANSY [Illustration] + +TRADE-MARK + +Registered in U. S. Patent Office. + + Entered according to the Act of Congress, by + WESTERN TRACT AND BOOK SOCIETY, + In the Office of the Congressional Librarian, District of + Columbia, 1871. + +COPYRIGHT, 1899, BY ISABELLA M. ALDEN. + + * * * * * + +THREE PEOPLE. + +[Illustration: "ARE YOU A TOTAL ABSTAINER?"--_Page 60._] + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + CHAPTER + + I. SOME BABIES 5 + II. JOHN BIRGE'S OPPORTUNITY 15 + III. WOLFIE 26 + IV. BRAIN WORK 37 + V. TODE'S AMBITION 49 + VI. NEW IDEAS 57 + VII. TWO T'S 67 + VIII. WHICH SHALL PROSPER, THIS OR THAT? 77 + IX. TAKE IT AWAY 89 + X. HABAKKUK 100 + XI. BUSINESS AND BOTTLES 113 + XII. THE STEPPING STONE 128 + XIII. TODE'S REAL ESTATE 145 + XIV. SIGNS AND WONDERS 162 + XV. EXIT TODE MALL 178 + XVI. PLEDGES AND PARTNERSHIPS 195 + XVII. TRANSLATIONS 211 + XVIII. WINE IS A MOCKER 223 + XIX. THE THREE PEOPLE MEET AGAIN 242 + XX. MRS. JENKINS' TOMMY 255 + XXI. MIDNIGHT WORK 270 + XXII. POOR PLINY 289 + XXIII. JUDGMENTS 305 + XXIV. A DOUBLE CRISIS 322 + XXV. STEPS UPWARD 336 + XXVI. THEODORE'S INSPIRATION 349 + XXVII. DAWN AND DARKNESS 364 + XXVIII. DEATH AND LIFE 383 + XXIX. SOME MORE BABIES 398 + + + + +THREE PEOPLE + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +SOME BABIES. + + +"Tie the sash a very little looser, nurse, and give the loops a more +graceful fall; there--_so_. Now he's a beauty! every inch of him." And +Mrs. Hastings moved backward a few steps in order to get the full +effect. + +A beauty he was, certainly; others beside his mother would have admitted +that. What baby fresh from a bath, and robed in the daintiest and most +perfect of baby toilets, with tightly curling rings of brown hair +covering the handsome head; with great sparkling, dancing blue eyes, and +laughing rosebud mouth; with hands and feet and body strung on invisible +wires, and quivering with life and glee, was ever other than a beauty? + +The whole house was in commotion in honor of the fact that Master Pliny +L. Hastings, only son and heir of the great Pliny Hastings, Senior, of +Hastings' Hall, had "laughed and cried, and nodded and winked," through +the entire space of three hundred and sixty-five days and nights, and +actually reached the first anniversary of his birthday. + +A remarkable boy was Pliny Hastings. He didn't know yet that his father +was a millionaire, but he must have surmised it, for, as far back as he +could remember, his bits of sleeves had been looped with real pearls; +rosewood and lace and silk and down had united to make his tiny bed; he +had bitten his first tooth through on a sphere of solid gold--and all +the wonderful and improbable contrivances for royal babyhood that could +be bought or imagined, met together in that grand house on the Avenue +for this treasured bit of humanity. + +On this particular day baby was out in all his glory; he had made the +circuit of the great parlors, stopping on his way to be tossed toward +the ceiling, in the arms of first one uncle and then another. He had +been kissed and cuddled by all the aunties and cousins, until his cheeks +were rosy with triumph; and, finally, he had been carried, shouting +with glee, high up on his father's shoulder, down to the dining-room, +and occupied the seat of honor at the long table, where he crowed, and +laughed, and clapped his hands over every plum that found its way into +his dainty mouth. This conduct was interspersed, however, by sundry +dives and screams after the coffee urn and the ice pitcher, and various +unattainable things--for there were unattainable things, even for Pliny +Hastings. Oh, the times and times in his young life that he had cried +for the beautiful round moon, and got it not! And even gaslight and +firelight had hitherto eluded his eager grasp; but he had learned no +lessons from his failures, and still pitched and dived after +impossibilities in the most insane fashion. To-day he looked with +indifference on the gold-lined silver cup bearing his name and age, and +wanted the great carving fork instead. He cared not a whit that the +sparkling wine was poured, and glasses were touched, and toasts drank on +his account; but a touch of wisdom must have come over his baby brain, +for he made a sudden dash at his father's glass, sending the red wine +right and left, and shivering the frail glass to fragments; he did more +than that, he promptly seized on one of the sharpest bits, and thereby +cut a long crooked gash in the sweet chubby finger, and was finally +borne, shrieking and struggling, from the room, his little heart filled +with mingled feelings of terror and rage. So much for Baby Hastings and +his birthday. + + * * * * * + +In a neat white house, no more than a mile away from this great mansion, +there was another baby. It was just when Pliny Hastings was hurried away +to the nursery that this baby's mother folded away papers, and otherwise +tidied up her bit of a nursery, then pushed a little sewing chair in +front of her work table, and paused ere she sat down to give another +careful tuck to the blanketed bundle, which was cuddled in the great +rocking chair, fast asleep. Then she gathered the doubled up fist into +her hand, and caressed it softly, while she murmured: "Bless his +precious little heart! he takes a splendid nap for his birthday, so he +does." + +"Ben," this to the gentleman who was lounging in another rocker, reading +the paper, "does it seem possible that Bennie is a year old to-day? I +declare, Ben, we ought to have got him a present for his birthday." + +The father looked up from his paper with a good-natured laugh. "Seems to +me he's rather youthful to begin on that tack, isn't he?" + +"Oh, Ben, no! I want every one of his birthdays to be so nice and +pleasant. Do, papa, come here and see how nice he looks, with his hair +all in a curl." + +Thus appealed to, Mr. Phillips came over to the arm-chair, and together +they stood looking down on the treasured bit of flesh and blood. + +"Our eldest born," the mother said, softly. + +"And youngest, too, for the matter of that," answered Mr. Phillips, +gaily. + +His wife laughed. "Ben, there isn't the least bit of sentiment in you, +is there? Now they are having a wonderful time to-day in the grand +corner house on the Avenue, the Hastings' house, you know, and it's all +because their baby is a year old to-day, and he isn't a bit nicer than +ours." + +"Their baby's father is worth a million." + +"I don't care if he is worth a billion, that don't make their baby any +sweeter. Say, Ben, I just wish, for the fun of it, we had some little +cunning thing for his birthday present." + +Mr. Phillips seemed to be very much amused. "Well," he said, still +laughing, "Which shall it be, a razor or a jack-knife?" + +His wife actually shuddered. "Ben!" she said, with a reproachful face, +"how _can_ you say such dreadful things? What if he should grow up and +commit suicide?" + +"What if I had a boy, and he should grow to be a man, and another man +should tread on his toes, and he should knock the other man down, and +the other man should die, and they should hang my boy," rattled off Mr. +Phillips in anything but a grave tone. + +"Little woman, that's what I should call looking into the future, isn't +it?" + +A knock at the door interrupted them, and Roxie, the tidy little maid of +all work, who had been out for an afternoon, appeared to them, talking +rapidly. + +"If you please, ma'am, I'm a quarter late, and could you please to +excuse me; the clock around the corner doesn't go, and Kate she didn't +know the time; and Mrs. Meeker said would you please accept her love and +these grapes in a basket. She says they're the finest of the lot, and +you needn't mind sending of it home, 'cause she'll let little Susie step +around after it." + +This mixture set Mr. Phillips off into another of his hearty laughs; but +when they were alone again, he seized one of the great purple clusters, +and flinging himself on the floor in front of the baby, exclaimed: + +"I'll tell you what we'll do, little wife: we'll present one of these to +the boy, and then you and I will eat it in honor of his birthday, +unless, indeed, there may be some bad omen in this, even. You know the +juice of the grape may, under certain circumstances, become a dangerous +article?" + +Mrs. Phillips laughed carelessly as she nestled in the little sewing +chair, and prepared to enjoy the grapes. "No," she said, gaily; "grapes +are very harmless omens to me. I'm not the least afraid that Baby Benny +will ever be a drunkard." + + * * * * * + +There used to be in Albany, not many years ago, a miniature "Five +Points," and one didn't have to go very far up what is now Rensselaer +Street to find it, either. There were tenement houses, which from attic +to basement swarmed with filthy, ragged, repulsive human life. + +In one of the lowest and meanest of these many cellars, on the very day, +and at the identical hour, in which Master Pliny Hastings held high +carnival at his father's table, and Baby Benny Phillips nestled and +dreamed among the soft pillows of his mother's easy chair, a little +brother of theirs, clad in dirt and rags, crawled over the reeking +floor, and occupied himself in devouring eagerly every bit of potato +skin or apple paring that came in his way. Was there ever a more forlorn +looking specimen of a baby! It was its birthday, too--there are more +babies in the world than we think for whose birthdays might be +celebrated on the same day. But this one knew nothing about it--dear me! +neither did his mother. I doubt if it had once occurred to her that this +poor bit of scrawny, dirty, terrible baby had been through one whole +year of life. And yet, perhaps, she loved her boy a little--her face +looked sullen rather than wicked. On the whole, I think she did, for as +she was about to ascend the stairs, with the sullen look deepening or +changing into a sort of gloomy apprehension, she hesitated, glanced +behind her, and finally, with a muttered "Plague take the young one," +turned back, and, catching him by the arm of his tattered dress, landed +him on the topmost step, in a mud-puddle! but she did it because she +remembered that he would be very likely to climb into the tub of +soapsuds that stood at the foot of the bed, and so get drowned. + +Mrs. Ryan came up her cellar stairs at the same time, and looked over at +her neighbor, then from her to her forlorn child, who, however, enjoyed +the mud-puddle, and finally commenced a conversation. + +"How old is that young one of yours?" + +"Pretty near a year--why, let me see--what day is it?--why, I'll be +bound if he ain't _just_ a year old this very day." + +"Birthday, eh? You ought to celebrate." + +"Humph," said the mother, with a darkening face, "we shall likely; we do +most generally. His loving father will get drunk, and if he don't pitch +Tode head over heels out here on the stones, in honor of his birthday, +I'll be thankful. Tode Mall, you stop crawling out to that gutter, or +I'll shake you within an inch of your life!" + +This last, in a louder and most threatening tone, to the ambitious baby. +But poor Tode didn't understand, or forgot, or something, for while his +mother talked with her companion, out he traveled toward the inviting +gutter again, and tumbled into it, from whence he was carried, dripping +and screaming, by his angry mother, who bestowed the promised shake, and +added a vigorous slapping, whereat Tode kicked and yelled in a manner +that proved him to be without doubt a near relative of Master Pliny +Hastings himself. Three brothers they were, Messrs. Pliny, Bennie and +Tode, opening their wondrous eyes on the world on precisely the same day +of time, though under such different circumstances, and amid such +different surroundings, that I doubt if it looked equally round to them +all. Besides, they hadn't the least idea each of the existence of the +other; but no matter for that, they were brothers, linked together in +many a way. + +Perhaps you wouldn't have had an idea that their fathers were each +occupied in the same business; but such was the case. Pliny L. Hastings, +the millionaire, owned and kept in motion two of the hotels in a western +city where the bar-rooms were supplied with marble counters, and the +customers were served from cut-glass goblets, resting on silver salvers. +Besides he was a wholesale liquor dealer, and kept great warehouses +constantly supplied with the precious stuff. Bennie Phillips' +good-natured father was a grocer, on a modest and unpretending scale; +but he had a back room in his store where he kept a few barrels of +liquor for medicinal purposes, and a clerk in attendance. Tode Mall's +father kept an unmitigated grog-shop, or rum hole, or whatever name you +are pleased to call it, without any cut glass or medicinal purposes +about it, and sold vile whisky at so much a drink to whoever had sunk +low enough to buy it. So now you know all about how these three baby +brothers commenced their lives. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +JOHN BIRGE'S OPPORTUNITY. + + +One day it rained--oh, terribly. Albany is not a pleasant city when it +rains, and Rensselaer Street is not a pleasant street. That was what +John Birge thought as he held his umbrella low to avoid the slanting +drops, and hurried himself down the muddy road, hurried until he came to +a cellar stairs, and then he stopped short in the midst of rain and +wind, such a pitiable sight met his eye, the figure of a human being, +fallen down on that lowest stair in all the abandonment of drunkenness. + +"This is awful!" muttered John Birge to himself. "I wonder if the poor +wretch lives here, and if I can't get him in." + +Wondering which, he hurried down the stairs, made his way carefully past +the "poor wretch" and knocked at the door. No answer. He knocked louder, +and this time a low "come in" rewarded him, and he promptly obeyed it. +A woman was bending over a pile of straw and rags, and an object lying +on top of them; and a squalid child, curled in one corner, with a wild, +frightened look in his eyes. The woman turned as the door opened, and +John Birge recognized her as his mother's washerwoman. + +"Oh, Mr. Birge," she said, eagerly, "I'm too thankful for anything at +seeing you. This woman is going so fast, she is; and what to do I don't +know." + +Mr. Birge set down his umbrella and shook himself free of what drops he +could before he approached the straw and rags; then he saw that a woman +lay on them, and on her face the purple shadows of death were gathering. + +"What is it?" he asked, awe-struck. "What is the matter?" + +"Clear case of murder, I call it. Her man is a drunkard, and a fiend, +too, leastways when he's drunk he is--and he's pitched her down them +there stairs once too often, I reckon. I was goin' to my work early this +morning, and I heard her groaning, so I come in, and I just staid on +ever since. Feelings is feelings, if a body does have to lose a day's +work to pay for 'em. She lies like that for a spell, and then she rouses +up and has an awful turn." + +"Turn of what? Is she in pain?" + +"No, I reckon not; it's her mind. She knows she's going, and it makes +her wild, like. Maybe you can talk to her some, and do her good--there, +she sees you!" + +A pair of stony, rather than wild, eyes were suddenly fixed on Mr. +Birge's face. He bent over her and spoke gently. + +"My poor woman, what can I do for you?" + +"Nothing at all," she said, stolidly. "My heart's broke, and that's the +end of it. It don't make no difference what comes next, I'm done with +it." + +"But, my poor friend, are you ready for what is coming to you?" + +"You mean I'm dying, I s'pose. Yes, I know that, and it makes no kind of +difference. I've had enough of living, the land knows. Things can't be +worse with me than they are here." + +And now John spoke eagerly. + +"But don't you know that they can be better, that there is a home and +rest and peace waiting for you, and that the Lord Jesus Christ wants +you?" + +"I don't know anything about them things. I might, I s'pose, if I'd been +a mind to. It's too late now, and I don't care about that, either. +Things _can't_ be worse, I tell you." + +"It's _not_ too late; don't ruin yourself with that folly. The Lord is +all powerful. He can do _anything_. He doesn't need _time_ as men do. +He can save you _now_ just as well as he could last year. All you have +to do is to ask him; he will in no wise cast out; he 'is able to save to +the _uttermost_.' Believe on him, and the work is all done." + +It is impossible to tell the eager energy with which these words were +poured forth by the man who saw that the purple shadows were creeping +and the time was short; but the same stony look still settled on the +listener's face, and she repeated with the indifference of despair-- + +"It's no use--my time is gone--it don't matter. My heart's broke, I tell +you, and I don't care." + +"He _will_ save you if you will let him; he wants to. I can't tell you +how much he has promised to hear the very faintest, latest call. Say +'Lord Jesus forgive me' with all your heart, and the work is done." + +A sudden change swept over the sick stolid face, a gleam of interest in +the dreary eyes, and she spoke with eagerness. + +"Do you say he can do everything?" + +"_Everything._ 'Whatever ye ask in my name, _believing_, ye shall +receive.' These are his own words." + +"Does he believe in rum?" + +"No!" promptly replied the startled, but strongly temperate John Birge. + +"Then I'll pray," was the quick response. "I never prayed in my life, +but I will now; like enough I can save him yet. You folks think he can +hear everything that's said, don't you?" + +Strangely moved as well as startled, her visitor answered her only by a +bow. The shaking hands were clasped, and in a clear firm voice the sick +woman spoke: + +"O Lord, don't let Tode ever drink a drop of rum!" + +Then the little boy crouching in the corner, rose up and came quickly +over to his mother. + +"Keep away, Tode," said the woman at the foot of the bed, speaking in an +awe-stricken voice. "Keep away, don't touch her; she ain't talking to +you." + +Not so much as a glance did the mother bestow upon her boy, but repeated +over and over again the sentence, "O Lord, don't let Tode ever touch a +drop of rum." + +"Is that the way?" she asked, suddenly turning her sharp bright eyes +full on Mr. Birge. + +"Is that the way they pray? are them the right kind of words to use?" + +"My poor friend," began he, but she interrupted him impatiently. + +"Just tell me if that's the name you call him by when you pray?" + +"Yes," he said. "Only won't you add to them, 'And forgive and save _me_ +for Jesus' sake.'" + +"Never mind me," she answered, promptly. "'Tain't of no consequence +about me, never has been; and I haven't no time to waste on myself. I +want to save him. 'O Lord, don't let Tode ever touch a drop of rum.'" + +"He doesn't need time," pleaded her visitor. "He can hear both prayers +at once. He can save both you and Tode in a second of time; and he loves +you and is waiting." + +This was her answer: + +"O Lord, don't let Tode ever touch a drop of rum." + +All that woman's soul was swallowed up in the one great longing. Unable +longer to endure the scene in silence, John Birge dropped on his knees +and said: + +"Lord Jesus, hear this prayer for her boy, and save this poor woman who +will not pray for herself." + +The words seemed to arrest her attention. + +"What do _you_ care?" she added, at length. + +"The Lord Jesus cares. He died to save you." + +Then John Birge repeated his prayer, adding a few simple words. + +The little silence that followed was broken by the repetition of the +poor woman's one solemn sentence: + +"O Lord, don't let Tode ever touch a drop of rum." + +"And save me," added John Birge. + +"And save me"--her lips took up the sentence--"for Jesus' sake." + +"For Jesus' sake." + +The next time she added these words of her own accord; and again and +again was the solemn cry repeated, until there came a sudden changing of +the purple shadows into solemn ashy gray, and with one half-murmured +effort, "not a drop of rum" and "for Jesus' sake," the voice was forever +hushed. + +The neighbor watcher was the first to break the stillness. + +"Well, I never in all my life!" she ejaculated, speaking solemnly. "For +the land's sake! I wish every rum-seller in the world could a heard her. +Well, her troubles is over, Mr. Birge. Now, what's to be done next?" + +"Is she anything to you, Mary, except an acquaintance?" + +"I'm thankful to say she ain't. If she had been I'd expect to die of +shame for letting her die in this hole. She's a neighbor of mine, at +least I live around the corner; but I don't know much about her, only +that her man comes home drunk about every night, and tears around like a +wild beast." + +Which last recalled to John's remembrance the reason of his being in +that room. + +"Is that her husband lying out there?" he asked, nodding toward the +door. + +"Yes, it is. Been there long enough to know something by this time, I +should think, too." + +"It seems to me the first thing to be done is to get him in here; it +isn't decent to leave him in this storm." + +"It's decenter than he deserves, in my opinion, enough sight," Mary +muttered. + +Nevertheless they went toward the door, and with infinite pains and much +fearful swearing from the partially roused man, they succeeded in +pushing and pulling and dragging him inside the cellar on the floor, +when he immediately sank back into heavy sleep. + +"Isn't he a picture of a man, now?" said the sturdy Mary, with a face +and gesture of intense disgust. + +"I would rather be he than the man who sold him the rum," her companion +answered, solemnly. "Well, Mary, have you time to stay here awhile, or +must you go at once?" + +"I'll _take_ time, sir. Feelings is feelings, if I be poor; and I can't +leave the boy and all, like this." + +"Very well. You shall not suffer for your kind act. I'll go at once to +notify the Coroner and the proper authorities, and meantime my mother +will probably step around. Shall I have this fellow taken to the +station?" + +"No," said Mary, with another disgusted look at the drunken man. "Let +the beast sleep it out; he's beyond hurting anybody, and _she_ wouldn't +want him sent to the station." + + * * * * * + +"It was the most solemnly awful sight I ever saw," said John Birge, +telling it all over to his friend McElroy. "I never shall forget that +woman's prayer. It was the most tremendous temperance lecture I ever +heard." + +"Is the woman buried?" + +"Yes, this afternoon. They hurry such matters abominably, McElroy. +Mother saw, though, that things were decent, and did what she could. We +mean to keep an eye on the boy. He has great wild eyes, and a head that +suggests great possibilities of good or evil, as the case may be. We +would like to get him into one of the Children's Homes, and look after +him. I meant to go around there this very evening and see what I could +do. What do you say to going with me now?" + +"Easy enough thing to accomplish, I should think. I presume his father +will be glad to get rid of him; but it's storming tremendously, is it +not?" + +"Pretty hard. It does four-fifths of the time in Albany, you know. +Wouldn't you venture?" + +"Why, it strikes me not, unless it were a case of life and death, or +something of that sort. I should like to assist in rescuing the waif, +but won't it do to-morrow?" + +"I presume so. We'll go to-morrow after class, then. Well, take the +rocking chair and an apple, and make yourself comfortable. I say, +McElroy, when I get into my profession I'll preach temperance, shall not +you?" + + * * * * * + +Rain and wind and storm were over by the next afternoon; the sun shone +out brilliantly, trying to glorify even the upper end of Rensselaer +Street through which the two young men were sauntering, in search of the +waif on whom John Birge meant to keep an eye. + +"I'm strangely interested in the boy," Birge was saying. "That prayer +was something so strange, so fearfully solemn, and the circumstances +connected with my stumbling upon them at all were so sad. I was sorry +after I left that I had not tried to impress upon the little fellow's +mind the solemn meaning of his mother's last words. I half went back to +have a little talk with him, but then I thought there would be +sufficient opportunity for that in the future. Here, this is the cellar. +Be careful how you tread, these steps are abominable. Hallo! Why, what +on earth!" + +They descended the stairs; they knocked at the door, but they received +no answer; they tried the door, it was locked; they looked in at the +rickety window, the miserable stove, the rags, even the straw, were +gone--no trace of human residence was to be seen. + +It does not take long to move away from Rensselaer Street. Tode and his +father were gone; and neither then nor afterward for many a day, though +John Birge and his companion made earnest search, were they to be found. +The "sufficient opportunity" was gone, too, and young Birge kept no eye +on the boy; but there was an All-seeing eye looking down on poor Tode +all the while. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +WOLFIE. + + +Mr. Hastings started on a journey. It was midwinter, so he muffled +himself in overcoat and furs, and carried his great fur-lined traveling +cloak, all nicely rolled and strapped, ready for extra occasions. + +He was not in the very best humor when the night express reached Albany, +and he had finally changed his quarters from the Central to the Hudson +River Railroad. His arrangements had not been made for spending the +night on the train at all; his plan was to be fairly settled under the +blankets in a New York hotel by this time, but there had been detention +after detention all along his route. So the great man settled himself +with what grace he could, and unstrapped the fur-lined cloak, and made +other preparations for passing a night in the cars, his face, meanwhile, +wearing an ominous frown. + +It was not so much the sitting-up all night that troubled him, for Mr. +Hastings was in excellent health, and an excellent traveler, and really +did not so much mind the fatigue; but he was a man accustomed to +carrying out his plans and intentions to the very letter, and it jarred +upon him to have even snow and ice audacious enough to interfere. + +There were other travelers that night who had no fur-lined cloaks. One +in particular, who sat near the stove, and made such good use of the +dampers that Mr. Hastings had no use for his cloak, even after +unstrapping it, but flung it into a great furry heap on the nearest seat +behind him, and knew not then, nor ever, that the insignificant little +act was one of the tiny links in the chain of circumstances that were +molding Tode Mall's life. + +Tode Mall started on a journey that very evening. He didn't pack his +valise, nor take his overcoat, nor ride to the depot in a carriage. In +fact, his father kicked him out of the cellar like a foot-ball, and bade +him good-by in these words: + +"There! get out. And don't let me ever see a sight of your face again." + +Tode rolled over once in the snow, then got up and shook himself, and +made prompt answer: + +"All right! I'm agreed." + +He then stuffed his hands into the ragged pockets of his ragged jacket, +and marched off up town, and because he happened to roll over and come +up with his face turned in the direction of the depot, is the only known +reason why he walked _up_ town instead of _down_. + +Apparently he didn't take his father's late treatment very much to +heart. + +"He's drunk," he said, philosophically. "That's what's the matter with +him. In about two hours he'll be over this part of the carouse and be +snoring, then I'll slip back all right, if I don't freeze beforehand. +Ain't it cold, though. I must travel faster than this." + +On he went aimlessly, reached the depot presently, and followed the +crowd who crossed the river, for no better reason than that a great many +people seemed to be going that way. Following a portion of this same +crowd brought him at last to a platform of the departing train, just as +the steam-horse was giving a premonitory snort, and the official called +out for the second time: + +"All aboard!" + +"No, we ain't exactly," said Tode. "But it wouldn't take long to get +aboard if that is what you want, particularly if you've got a fire in +there." + +And he peered curiously in at the drowsy passengers. It was just at this +point that Mr. Hastings threw his furry cloak away from him, and +settled among his other wraps for a night's rest. The action caught +Tode's eye. + +"My! ain't that fellow comfortable?" chuckled he to himself. "Got a wolf +there that he don't appear to need. If he'd lend it to me I wouldn't +mind keeping him company for a spell. S'pose I try it?" + +And suiting the action to the word he pushed open the door, and walked +boldly forward among the sleepy people, halted at the stove, and while +the delicious sense of warmth crept slowly over him he kept one eye on +Mr. Hastings until he felt sure, just as the train got fairly into +motion, that the gentleman had fairly commenced his nap, then he slid +himself into the empty seat, and used his hands and his wits in so +disposing of the "wolf" that it would cover his cuddled up body +completely, and at the same time look like nothing but an innocent cloak +thrown carelessly on the seat; and he chuckled as distinctly as he dared +when he heard the conductor's voice calling "tickets" to the sleepy +people, and presently the door opened, and shut with a slam, and the +silence that followed showed that he considered his business with that +car finished. + +"He didn't ask Wolfie for his ticket," giggled Tode. "I reckon he don't +know he's alive, no more don't the man that thinks he owns him. I say +now, what if he gets a cold streak, and wants to borrow Wolfie for +himself after a spell? Poh!" he added after a minute, "it's easy enough +to get out the way I came in; but it will be time enough to do it when I +_have_ to. I ain't going to keep doing it all night. I vote for _one_ +good warm nap, I do--so here goes." + +And Tode went straightway to the land of dreams. The night wore on, the +restless traveler near the stove dozed and wakened and attended to the +dampers, thereby all unknowingly contributing his mite to Tode's warm +journey. The train halted now and again at a station, and a few sleepy +people stumbled off, and a few wide-awake ones came on, but still seats +were comparatively plenty and no one disturbed the fur cloak. In the +course of time Tode's sleep grew less sound; he twisted around as much +as his limits would allow, and punched an imaginary bed-fellow with his +elbow, muttering meanwhile: + +"Keep still now. Which of you is joggling?" + +The joggling continued, and at last the boy twisted and punched himself +awake and into a sitting posture, and finally the look of unmixed +astonishment with which he took in his surroundings, gave way to one of +unmistakable fun. + +"Here's a go!" he at last informed himself. "I've come a journey and no +mistake; made a night of it sure as I live. Lucky I waked up first of +this crowd. If somebody had sat down on Wolfie now by mistake, there +might have been trouble. Guess I'll look about me." + +He shook himself free from the cloak and sauntered out on the platform. +The gray dawn was just glimmering over the frozen earth, the world +looked snowy and icy and desolate. On swept the train, and not a +familiar object met his eye. Did Tode feel dreary and homesick, lost in +the whizzing strangeness, sorry he had come? Did he want to shrink away +from sight and sound? Did he feel that he would give anything in the +world to be landed at that moment somewhere near Broadway in Albany? Not +a bit of it! Nothing of the sort entered his brain. _He_ feel homesick! +Why his home was anywhere and nowhere. Since that day, years ago, when +his mother died, he had had less of a home than even before. Sometimes +he slept on the cellar floor with his father, but oftener in the street, +in a stable, or curled in a barrel when he had the good fortune to find +one--_anywhere_; but never in all his life had he spent such a +comfortable night as this last had been. But his father? Oh dear, you +don't know what fathers can become to their children, if you think he +missed him. Please remember his last act had been to kick his son out of +a cellar into the snow; but Tode bore him no ill-will for this or any +other attention. Oh no, nor good-will either. Why, his father was +simply less than nothing to him. So this morning, without an idea as to +what he was going to do next, he stood and watched himself being whirled +into New York, with no feeling save one of extreme satisfaction at the +success of his last night's plan, and alert only to keep out of the +reach of the conductor. The car door slammed behind him, and he turned +quickly, as two gentlemen came out. One of them eyed him closely, and +finally addressed him. + +"Who are you with, my lad?" + +Tode chuckled inwardly at this question, but added promptly enough, + +"A man in there," nodding his head toward the car which contained Mr. +Hastings. + +"Humph! the man must be crazy to let his servant travel in such a suit +as that in this bitter weather." + +This remark was addressed to his companion as the two passed into the +next car. Tode chuckled outright this time; he had a new idea. + +"That's the talk," he informed himself. "I'm his servant; just it +prezackly--much obliged. I hadn't thought of that arrangement before, +but I like the plan first rate. Maybe Wolfie and I will get another +night or so together by the means." + +So now he had two items of business on hand, dodging the conductor and +keeping an eye on his traveling companion. The first he managed to +accomplish by dint of always passing out at one end of the car just as +that official was entering at the other, aided in his scheme by the fact +that it was not yet light, and also that they were fairly in the city. +But the last was an extremely difficult matter. A dozen times, as he +breathlessly pushed and elbowed his way through the hurrying crowd, did +he think that he had hopelessly lost sight of his guide, and as often +did he catch another glimpse of him and push on. At last a car, not too +full for Mr. Hastings to crowd himself into, rewarded his signal, and +Tode plunged after him as far as the platform. There he halted. There +were many passengers and much fare to collect, so our young scamp had +enjoyed quite a ride before his turn came. + +"Fare," said the conductor at last, briefly and sharply, right at his +elbow. + +"Yes, sir," answered Tode as promptly. "Only it's pretty cold and +windy." + +"Pay your fare," shouted the conductor. + +"Oh bless me--yes, to be sure." + +And Tode fumbled in both pockets, drawing out bits of strings and balls +of paper and ends of candles, everything but pennies; then looked up +with an innocent face. + +"Why, as true as you live, I haven't got a cent." + +"Then what are you doing here?" + +"Why riding, to be sure. It's enough sight nicer than walking this windy +day. Your driver stopped for everybody that held up his hand. I saw him, +so when I was invited kind of, how did I know I'd have to pay?" + +The demure, innocent, childlike air with which Tode rattled off this +story can not be described. The conductor laughed. + +"You're either _very_ green or VERY old," he said at last. "And I'm not +sure which. Where do you want to go?" + +"Oh I ain't a bit particular. You needn't go out of your way on my +account. I'll ride right along with you, and look at the sights." + +Which accommodating spirit seemed greatly to amuse the other platform +riders; and as the car stopped at that moment for passengers, the +conductor turned away with a laugh, and left Tode to enjoy his ride in +peace. + +On they went, and in spite of driving snow and sleet, Tode managed to +make the acquaintance of the driver, and get considerable amusement out +of his trip, when he suddenly broke off in the midst of a sentence, and +cleared the steps with a bound. Mr. Hastings had left the car and +crossed the street. Then commenced another chase, around the corner, +down one block, up another, on and on, until Tode, panting and +breathless, brought up at last before a grand hotel, inside which Mr. +Hastings vanished. Tode pushed boldly forward, shied behind a fat +gentleman who ran against them in the hall, and remained hidden long +enough to overhear the following conversation: + +"Why, Mr. Hastings! How do you do? When did you arrive?" + +"By the morning train, sir. All full here?" + +"Well, comfortably so. Make room for you without a doubt. Stop here?" + +"Yes, sir. Always do." + +"Remain long?" + +"No, return on Friday. Waiter, this way, sir." + +Tode drew a long breath of relief, and dodged out. + +"Well," said he, with a satisfied air, "I'm thankful to say I've got +that man landed at last where he'll be likely to stay for some time. +He's Mr. Hastings, is he? It's convenient to know who one belongs to. +Now I must trudge off and do a little business on my own account, seeing +we 'return on Friday.' First let's take a look at the name of this place +where I've decided to leave him, and this street is--yes, I see. _Now_ +I'm all right--trust me for finding my way here again. Don't you be one +mite worried, Brother Hastings, I'll be around in time." + +And Tode disappeared around a corner, whistling merrily. + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +BRAIN-WORK. + + +What Tode _didn't_ do during those three days' tarry in New York could +be told almost better than what he did. No country novice visiting the +great city for the first time could have begun to crowd in the sights +and scenes that revealed themselves to Tode's eager, wide-open eyes, in +the same space of time. + +The boy had the advantage of most such, in that he had not much to eat, +and nowhere to eat it; also that he was in the habit of sleeping nowhere +in particular, consequently these matters took up very little of his +time. However he fared well, better than usual. He carried a package for +an over-loaded man for a short distance, thereby earning ten cents, +which he immediately expended in peanuts, and became peanut merchant for +the time being. So by dint of changing his business ten or a dozen +times, and being always on the alert, and understanding pretty +thoroughly the art of economy, he managed his lodging and three meals a +day, and was richer by twenty-five cents on the morning when he prepared +to take his departure than he was when he arrived in the city, a fact of +which few people who have been spending several days in New York can +boast. + +Tode's fancy for attaching himself to Mr. Hastings still continued in +full force, and brought him bright and early on Friday morning around to +the hotel, where he had last seen him. Not one minute too early, +however, and but for Mr. Hastings' own tardiness too late. He had just +missed a car, and no other was in sight. Tode took in the situation at a +glance, and hopped across the street. + +"Carry your baggage, sir?" + +Mr. Hastings had a valise, a package, a cane, an umbrella, and the great +fur-lined cloak. He appreciated Tode's assistance. + +"Yes," he said. "Take this, and this." + +Away they went down town to head off another car, which was presently +signaled. + +"Jump in, boy, and be ready to help me at the other end, if you're a +mind to," said Mr. Hastings, graciously, noticing the wistful look on +the boy's face, and thinking he wanted a ride. + +Tode obeyed in great glee; he considered this a streak of luck. He sat +beside Mr. Hastings and watched with great satisfaction while that +gentleman counted out double fare. For the first time, Tode thought they +had assumed proper positions toward each other. Of course Mr. Hastings +ought to pay his fare since he belonged to him. + +Arrived at the depot, and Mr. Hastings' baggage properly disposed of, +himself paid, and supposed to be dismissed, Tode was in a quandary. Here +was the train, and on it he meant to travel; but how to manage it was +another question. It was broad daylight; sleep and Wolfie couldn't serve +him now. He stuffed his hands into his pocket, and studied ways and +means; eyes bent on the ground, and the ground helped him, rather a bit +of pasteboard did. He picked it up, and read, first in bewilderment then +in delight: "New York to Castleton." A ticket! all properly stamped, and +paid for, undoubtedly. Did Tode hesitate, have great qualms of +conscience, consider what he ought to do, how to set about to find the +owner? He never once thought of any thing. Poor Tode hardly knew so much +as that there were such articles as consciences, much less that he had +anything to do with them. Somebody had lost his ticket, and _he_ had +found it, and it was precisely what he wanted. Once at Castleton, it +would be an easy matter to get to Albany. He thrust the precious card +into his pocket, swung himself on the train, and selected his seat at +leisure. Tode had never been to Sabbath-school, had never in his life +knelt at the family altar and been prayed for. There are boys, I fear +me, who having been shielded by both these things, placed in like +position would have followed his example. + +The seat he selected was as far as possible removed from the one which +Mr. Hastings occupied. It was no part of Tode's plan to be discovered by +that gentleman just at present. On the whole, this part of his journey +was voted "tame." He had to sit up in his seat, and show his ticket like +any one else; and it required no skill at all to forget to jump off at +Castleton, and so of necessity be carried on. He sauntered over in Mr. +Hastings' vicinity once, and heard an important conversation. + +"Can you tell me, sir," inquired that gentleman of his next neighbor, +"whether by taking the midnight train at Albany I shall reach Buffalo in +time to connect with a train on the Lake Shore Road?" + +"You will, sir; but it is a slow train. By keeping right on now you can +connect with the Lake Shore Express." + +"I know; but I have business that will detain me in Albany." + +"So have I," muttered Tode, well pleased with the arrangement, and went +back to his seat. + + * * * * * + +"Halloo, Tode! where you been?" called out a sixteen-year old comrade +from a cellar grocery window, as Tode turned out of Broadway that same +evening. + +"Been traveling for my health. Say, Jerry, seen anything of father +lately?" + +"He's gone off on a frolic. Went night before last--bag and baggage." + +"Where did he go?" + +Jerry shook his head. + +"More than I know. Doubt if he knew himself about the time he started; +but he'll bring up all right after a spell, likely." + +Landed in Albany, the only home he knew, Tode had his first touch of +loneliness and depression. The cellar was closed, his father gone, no +one knew where nor for how long an absence, nor even if he meant to +return at all. Tode was cold and dreary. Up to this time he had followed +out his whim of belonging to the owner of the fur cloak, merely _as_ a +whim, with no definite purpose at all; but now, queerly enough, parted +with the man with whom he had journeyed, and over whom he kept so close +a watch during these four days, he had a feeling of loneliness as if he +had lost something--he begun to wish he did belong to him in very truth. +Suppose he did, worked for him say, and earned a warm place to sleep in +of nights--this was the hight of his present ambition. The warm place to +sleep suggested to him the good night's rest under the cloak, and also +the fact that there was another bitter night shutting down rapidly over +the earth, and that he had no spot for shelter. + +"I'll push on," he said at last, in a decisive tone. "I'd as lief go to +Buffalo as anywhere else--the thing is to get there; but then I can get +_on_ the cars, and get _off_ at Buffalo if I can, and before if I _have_ +to." + +This matter settled, his spirits began to rise at once; and by the time +Mr. Hastings and he crowded their way through the midnight train, the +cars contained no such gleeful spirit as Tode Mall's. + +More skill was needed than on the preceding journey, for the fur-lined +cloak was thrown over the back of the seat fronting him this time, and +Mr. Hastings sat erect and wide awake, and looked extremely cross. + +"I have the most extraordinary luck," he was telling a man, as Tode +entered. "Nothing but delay and confusion since I left home. Never had +such an experience before." + +But the car was warm and the air was heavy, and Mr. Hastings' erect head +began to nod in a suspicious manner. Tode watched and waited, and was +finally rewarded. The gentleman made deliberate preparations for a nap, +and was soon taking it. + +Now for the young scamp's trial of skill! He slipped into the vacant +seat--he curled himself into a ball--he pulled and twitched softly and +dextrously at the fur cloak, to make it come down and lie over him in +such a manner that it would look like pure accident; and at last he was +settled for the night. He felt the soft, delicious, furry warmth once +more, and he hugged his friend and fairly shook with delight and +triumph. + +"Oh, ho! Ha! Hum!" he chuckled. "How _are_ you, Wolfie? How've you been? +You and me is friends, we is. We're travelers, we are. Now, we'll have a +tall sleep. Ain't this just the jolliest thing, though?" + +Then Tode went to sleep. By and by he felt a jerking. He roused up, the +car lamps were burning dim. Mr. Hastings was pulling at his cloak and +eyed _him_ severely, but Tode innocently and earnestly helped him to +right it, and treated its tumble over on to _him_ as a very natural +accident. The train was at a stand-still. Tode thought best to find out +his whereabouts. He went out to the platform. + +"What station is this?" he inquired of a boy who, like himself, was +peering into the darkness. + +"Oh, this is a way-station. We'll be in Syracuse in about half an hour. +We've got to change cars there." + +"We don't if we're going to Buffalo," answered Tode, in a business-like +tone. He knew nothing whatever about the matter. + +"Yes we do, too. Got to wait an hour. I just asked the conductor." + +Tode walked in and took his seat; he saw his way clear. Presently came +the conductor, and halted before him. Tode's hand sought his pocket. + +"How much to Syracuse?" he questioned; and being naturally told the rate +of fare from their last stopping place to Syracuse, he counted it out +and sat back at his leisure. + +At Syracuse Mr. Hastings went into the hotel to get his breakfast. Tode +walked the piazza and whistled for his; besides he had something to do. +He didn't see his way clear, but the more difficult the way grew the +more delightful it looked to Tode, and the more determined was he to +tread it. The hour sped on. Mr. Hastings' breakfast was concluded. He +was in the depot now talking with an acquaintance. Tode was just behind +him thinking still. + +"All aboard!" shouted the official. "Passengers for Buffalo this way!" + +And Mr. Hastings caught up valise, bundle, umbrella, cane, and +vanished--all those, but the fur-lined cloak lay innocently cuddled in a +warm heap on the seat. Tode seized upon it in an instant and hugged it +close. + +"Oh, Wolfie, Wolfie!" he chuckled, "You're the best friend I got in the +world. You went and got left on my account, didn't you?" + +It was but the work of a moment to hustle himself and his prize into the +train--_not_ into the car that Mr. Hastings had taken--and once more +they were off. + +When they were fairly under way he presented himself before the +astonished eyes of Mr. Hastings with this brief sentence: + +"Here he is, sir, safe and sound." + +"Here who is?" + +"Wolfie, sir. You left him lying on a seat in Syracuse, and I got him +and jumped on." + +"Why, is it possible I left my cloak? Why, bless me! I never did such a +careless thing before in my life; and so you jumped on, and have got +carried off by the means. Well, sir, you're an honest boy; and now what +shall I give you to make it all right?" + +"I want to get to Buffalo like sixty," answered Tode, meekly. "And I +haven't a cent to my name." + +"You do, eh? And you would like to have me pay your fare? Well, that's +not an unreasonable demand, seeing this is a very valuable cloak." + +And Mr. Hastings counted out the fare to Buffalo and a few pennies over; +and Tode thankfully received it, and went out and sat down in a corner +and whistled. + +Imagine Mr. Hastings' astonishment when, soon after he had made his last +change of cars and was speeding homeward on the Lake Shore Road, Tode +appeared to him. + +"Well!" was his exclamation, "what are you doing here? This isn't +Buffalo." + +"No, sir; but a fellow sometimes has to get to Buffalo before he can get +to Cleveland, you know." + +"Oh, you're bound for Cleveland, are you? And who pays your way this +time?" + +"Well, sir," said Tode, gravely, "I'm traveling with you." + +"What?" + +"I _am_. I've been from Albany to New York with you, and I left you at +the hotel, and I came after you on Friday, and carried your valise and +things to the cars, and came up to Albany with you, and waited for you +until the midnight train, and came on to Syracuse with you, and waited +while you got your breakfast--and here I am." + +Unbounded amazement kept Mr. Hastings silent. Presently he asked, +incredulously: + +"Who paid your fare all this time?" + +"Wolfie, principally." + +"Who?" + +"Wolfie," pointing to the cloak. "I hid under him, and cuddled up, and +he made it all right with the conductor." + +Mr. Hastings' face was a study--astonishment, indignation and fun each +struggling for the mastery. At last his face broadened, and his eyes +twinkled, and he leaned back in his seat and indulged in a long, loud, +hearty laugh. Tode's eyes twinkled, but he waited decorously for the +laugh to subside. + +"This is the most ridiculous thing I ever heard of in my life," began +the gentleman when he could speak. + +"So you're traveling with _me_, are you? And what do you propose to do +when you get to Cleveland?" + +"Mean to work for you, sir." + +"Upon my word! How do you know I shall need your help?" + +"You've needed it several times on this journey," said Tode, +significantly. + +Whereupon Mr. Hastings laughed again. + +"You'll do," he said at length. "I don't see that you need any help from +me. I should say that you are thoroughly capable of taking care of +yourself." + +Tode shrugged his shoulders. + +"I'm a stranger on this road," he answered, gravely. "Just as you was on +the Central and them roads, I suppose." + +"And you think inasmuch as you took care of me during the time I spent +on _your_ roads, I ought to return the favor now we are on _mine_." This +with a strong emphasis on that word "_mine_." + +"Well, sir, I don't know that I ever did so foolish a thing in my life, +but then you must be considered as a remarkable specimen. Conductor, +could you do me the favor to pass this youngster through to Cleveland?" + +Mr. Hastings spoke with easy assurance. Tode didn't know how nearly he +had touched the truth when he hinted at the great man's power on _that_ +road. + +"Certainly, sir," answered the obliging conductor, "if it will be a +favor to you." + +"All right, sir. Now, young man, help yourself to a seat, and I shall +expect to be most thoroughly cared for during the rest of this journey." + +Tode obeyed with great alacrity, and gave himself a great many little +commendatory nods and pats for the successful way in which he had +managed the whole of this delicate and difficult business. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +TODE'S AMBITION. + + +Mr. Hastings' elegant carriage was drawn up at a safe distance from the +puffing iron animal who had just screeched his way into the depot. The +coachman on the box managed with dextrous hand the two black horses who +seemed disposed to resent the coming of their puffing rival, while with +his hand resting on the knob of the carriage door, looking right and +left for somebody, and finally springing forward to welcome his father, +was Master Pliny Hastings, older by fourteen years than when that dinner +party was given in honor of his birthday. + +"Tumble up there with the driver," was Mr. Hastings' direction to Tode, +who stood and looked with open-eyed delight on carriage, horses, driver, +_everything_, while father and son exchanged greeting. + +Pliny _did_ wait until the carriage door was closed before he burst +forth with: + +"Father, where on earth did you pick up that bundle of rags, and what +did you bring him home for?" + +"He brought me, I believe," answered Mr. Hastings, laughing at the droll +remembrance. "At least I think you'll find that's his version of the +matter." + +"What are you going to do with him?" + +"More than I know. I'm entirely at his disposal." + +"Father, how queer you are. What's his name?" + +"Upon my word I don't know. I never thought to inquire. You may question +him to your heart's content when you get home. There is a funny story +connected with him, which I will tell you sometime. Meantime let me rest +and tell me the news." + +"He is a very smart specimen, Augusta," explained Mr. Hastings to his +wife that evening, when she looked aghast at the idea of harboring Tode +for the night. + +"A remarkable boy in some respects, and I fancy he may really become a +prize in the way of a waiter at one of the hotels. These fellows who +have brought themselves up on the street do sometimes develop a +surprising aptitude for business, and I am greatly mistaken if this one +is not of that stamp. I'll take him off your hands in the morning, +Augusta, and he can't demoralize Pliny in one evening. Besides," he +added as a lofty afterthought, "if my son can be injured by coming in +contact with evil in any shape, I am ashamed of him." + +In very much the same style was Tode introduced at one of the grand +hotels the next morning. + +"The boy is sharp enough for _anything_," explained Mr. Hastings to the +landlord. "I don't believe you will find his match in the city. Suppose +you take him in, and see what you can do for him?" + +The landlord eyed the very ragged, and very roguish, and very doubtful +looking personage thus introduced with a not particularly hopeful face; +but Mr. Hastings was a person to be pleased first and foremost under all +circumstances, so the answer was prompt. + +"Well, sir, if you wish it we will give him a trial, of course; but what +can we set him at in that plight?" + +"Um," remarked Mr. Hastings, thoughtfully, "I hadn't thought of that. Oh +well, he means to earn some better clothes at once. Isn't that so, my +lad?" + +Tode nodded. He hadn't thought of such a thing--his aim was still only +a warm place to sleep in; but he immediately set down better clothes as +another hight to be attained. + +"Meantime, Mr. Roberts, hasn't Tom some old clothes that he has +outgrown? This fellow is shorter than Tom, I should think. He'll work +for his board and clothes, of course, for the present. Can you make it +go, Mr. Roberts?" + +Mr. Roberts thought he could, and as Mr. Hastings drew on his gloves he +remarked to that gentleman aside: + +"I've taken a most unaccountable interest in the young scamp. He's a +_scamp_, no mistake about that, and he'll have to be looked after very +closely. But then he's sharp, sharp as steel; just the sort to develop +into a business man with the right kind of training, such as he will +receive here. The way in which he wheedled me into bringing him home +with me was a most astonishing proceeding. I shall have to tell you all +about it when we are more at leisure. Good-morning, sir." + +And Mr. Hastings bowed himself out. + +By noon Tode was fairly launched upon his new life, and made such good +use of his eyes and ears that in some respects he knew more about the +business than did the new errand boy who had been there for a week. For +the first time in his life he was going to earn his living. + +Mr. Hastings was correct in his opinion. Tode was sharp; yet he was +after all, not unlike a piece of soft putty, ready to be molded into +almost any shape, ready to take an impression from anything that he +chanced to touch. If the people who dined at that great hotel on the +Avenue during those following weeks could have known how the chance +words which they let drop, and in dropping forgot, were gathered up by +that round-eyed boy, how startled they would have been! There was one +memory which stood out sharply in Tode's life--it was of his mother's +death. The boy had never in his fifteen years of life heard but one +prayer, that was his mother's, it was for him: "O Lord, don't let Tode +ever drink a drop of rum." He had very vague ideas in regard to prayer, +very bewildering notions concerning the Being to whom this prayer was +addressed; but he knew what rum was--he had excellent reason to know; +and he knew that these words of his mother's had been terribly earnest +ones--they had burned themselves into his brain. He remembered his +mother as one who had given him what little care and kindness he had +ever received. Finally he had a sturdy, positive, emphatic will of his +own, which is not a bad thing to have if one takes proper care of it. So +without any sort of idea as to the right or wrong of the matter, with +perfect indifference as to whether this thing came under either head, he +had sturdily resolved that he would never, no never, so long as he +lived, drink a drop of rum. In this resolution he had been strengthened +by the constant jeers and gibes and offerings of his father not only but +of his boon companions. + +There are natures which grow stronger by opposition. Tode had one of +these; so the very forces which would have met to ruin nine boys out of +ten, came and rallied around him to strengthen his purpose. So Tode, +having been brought up, or rather having come up, thus far in one of the +lowest of low grog-shops, had steadily and defiantly adhered to his +determination. It was seven years since his mother's prayer had gone up +to God; Tode, only seven at that time, but older by almost a dozen years +than are those boys of seven who have been tenderly and carefully reared +in happy homes, had taken in the full force of that one oft-repeated +sentence and had lived it ever since. + +Behold him now, the caterpillar transformed into the butterfly. He had +shuffled off the grog-shop, and fluttered into one of the brightest of +Cleveland hotels. The bright-winged moth singes itself in the brilliant +gaslight sometimes where the caterpillar never comes. + +Queer thoughts came into Tode's head with that suit of new clothes with +which he presently arrayed himself. Not particularly new, either. Tom +Roberts was in college, and they were his cast-off attire, worn before +he, too, in his way became a butterfly; and he would not have been seen +in them--no, nor have had it enter into the mind of one of his college +mates that he ever _had_ been seen in them, for a considerable sum even +of spending money. + +Different eyes have such different ways of looking at the same thing. +Tode will never forget how that suit of clothes looked to _his_ eyes, +nor how, when arrayed in them, he stood before his bit of glass, and +took a calm, full, deliberate survey of himself. To be sure, Tom being a +chunk and Tode being long limbed, notwithstanding Mr. Hastings' +supposition to the contrary, pants and jacket sleeves were somewhat +lacking in length; moreover there was a patch on each knee, and you have +no idea how nice those patches looked to Tode. Why, bless you! he was +used to seeing great jagged, unseemly holes where these same neat +patches now were. Also he had on a shirt! A real, honest white shirt; +and so persistently does one improvement urge upon us the necessity of +another in this world, that Tode had already been obliged to doff his +shirt once in order to bring his face and hair into something like +propriety, that the contrast might not be too sharp. + +There was a stirring of new emotions in his heart. Perhaps he then and +there resolved to be a genius, to be the president, or at least the +governor; perhaps he did, but he only gave his thoughts utterance after +this fashion: + +"Jemima Jane! Do you tell the truth, you young upstart in the glass +there? Be you Tode Mall, no mistake? Well now, for the land's sake, a +fellow _does_ look better in a shirt, that's as true as whistling. I +mean to have a shirt of my own, I do now. S'pose these are mine after I +earn 'em. Oh, ho; _me_ earn a shirt for myself. Ain't that rich now? +What you s'pose Jerry would think of that, hey, old fellow in the glass? +Well, why not? Like enough I'll earn a pair of boots some day. I will +now, true's you live; it's real jolly. I wonder a fellow never thought +of it before. Oh I'll be some; I'll have a yellow bow one of these days +for a cravat, see if I don't!" + +And this was the hight and end and aim of Tode's ambition. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +NEW IDEAS. + + +"Come," said Pliny Hastings, halting before the hotel, and addressing +his companion, "father said if it snowed hard when school was out to +come in here to dinner." + +"Well, go ahead, then," answered his friend, gaily. "Father didn't tell +me so, and I suppose I must go home." + +"Oh bother--come on and get some dinner with me; then when the pelting +storm is over we'll go up together." + +So the two came into the great dining-room, and Tode came briskly +forward to help them. Tode had been in his new sphere for more than +three weeks, and already began to pride himself on being the briskest +"fellow in the lot." + +Pliny Hastings ordered dinner for two with an ease and promptness that +proved him to be quite accustomed to the proceeding; and Tode dodged +hither and thither, and finally hovered near, and looked on with +admiring eyes as the two ate and drank, and talked and laughed. Thus +far in his life Tode had been, without being aware of it, a believer in +"blood descent," distinct spheres in life, and all that sort of +nonsense. He was a boy to be sure, but it had never so much as occurred +to him that he could be even remotely connected with such specimens of +boyhood as were before him now. Not that they were any better than he. +Oh no, Tode never harbored such a thought for a moment; but then they +were different, that he saw, and like many another unthinking mortal, he +never gave a thought to the difference that home, and culture, and +Christianity must necessarily make. But what nonsense am I talking! Tode +didn't know there _were_ any such words, but then there _are_ people who +_do_, and who reason no better than did he. + +While he looked and enjoyed, Pliny was seized with a new want, and +leaned back in his chair with the query: + +"Where's Tompkins? Oh, Mr. Tompkins, here you are. Can you make Ben and +me something warm and nice this cold day?" + +Mr. Tompkins paused in his rush through the room. + +"In a very few minutes, Master Hastings, I will be at your service. Let +me see--could you wait five minutes?" + +Pliny nodded. + +"Very well then. Tode, you may come below in five minutes, and I shall +be ready." + +Tode went and came with alacrity, and stood waiting and enjoying while +the two drained their glasses. + +There was a little wet sugar left in the bottom of Pliny's glass, and +he, catching a glance from Tode's watchful eye, suddenly held it forth, +and spoke in kindly tone: + +"Want that, Todie?" + +Tode, a little taken aback, shook his head in silence. + +"You don't like leavings, eh? Get enough of the real article, I presume. +How do they make this? I dare say you know, now you are at +headquarters?" + +Tode shook his head again. + +"Belongs to the trade," he answered, with an air of wisdom. + +"Oh it does. Well how much of it do you drink in a day?" + +"Not a drop." + +"Bah!" + +Tode didn't resent this incredulous tone. He was used to being doubted; +moreover he knew better than did any one else that there was no special +reason for trusting him, so now he only laughed. + +"Come, tell us, just for curiosity's sake, I'd like to know how much +your queer brain will bear. I won't tell of you." + +"You won't believe me," answered Tode coolly, "so what's the use of +telling you." + +"I will, too, if you'll tell me just exactly. This time I'll believe +every word." + +"Well then, not a drop." + +"Why not?" queried Pliny, still incredulous. "Don't you like it?" + +"Can't say. Never tasted it." + +"Weren't you ever where there was any liquor before?" + +"Slightly!" chuckled Tode over the remembrance of his cellar life, and +knowing by a sort of instinct that these two had never been inside of +such a place in their lives. + +Pliny continued his examination: + +"Don't you like the smell of it?" + +"First-rate." + +"Then why don't you take it?" + +"Ain't a going to." + +"But _why_?" + +And then for the first time his companion spoke: + +"Are you a total abstainer?" + +"What's them?" + +Both boys stopped to laugh ere they made answer. + +"Why people who think it wicked to 'touch, taste or handle,' you know. +Say, Pliny, did you know there's quite an excitement on the subject up +our way? Old Mousey is round trying to get all the folks to promise not +to sell Joe any more brandy." + +"Stuff and nonsense!" oracularly pronounced Pliny, quoting the +unanswerable argument of his elders. + +"Fact. And folks say Joe has been drunk more times in a week since than +he ever was before." + +"Of course, that's the way it always works, trying to _make_ folks do +what they won't do. Joe ought to be hung, though. What does a fellow +want to be a fool for and go and get drunk? But say, Todie, why don't +you drink a drop?" + +"I ain't a going to," was Tode's only answer. + +The two friends looked at each other curiously. + +"You're green," said Pliny, at last. + +"Yes," said Tode, promptly, "maybe; so's the moon." + +Whereat the two laughed and strolled away. + +"Isn't he a queer chap?" they said to each other as they went out into +the snow. + +Meantime Tode looked after them for a moment before he began briskly to +gather up the remains of the feast. Tode had some new ideas. He had +formerly lived a stratum below the temperance movement; it had scarce +troubled his father's cellar; so he had to-day discovered that there +were others besides his mother who prayed their sons not to drink a drop +of rum. Also that a young man who went and got drunk was considered a +fool by elegant young men, such as he had just been serving. Also, and +sharpest, these two evidently thought him "green." If they had said a +thief or scamp Tode would have laughed, but "green!" that touched. + +"I'll show them a thing or to, maybe," he said, defiantly, as he seized +a pile of plates and vanished. + +Now our three babies, nurtured severally in the lace-canopied crib, in +the plump-cushioned rocking-chair, in the reeking cellar corner, had +come together from their several "spheres" and held their first +conversation. Other hungry people came for their dinner and Tode served +them, and was very attentive to their wants and their words. A busy life +the boy led during these days--a brisk, bustling life, which kept him in +a state of perpetual delight. There was something in his nature which +answered to all this rush and systematic confusion of business, and +rejoiced in it. He liked the air of method and system which even the +simplest thing wore; he liked the stated hours for certain duties; the +set programme of employment laid out for each; the set places for every +thing that was to be handled; the very bells, as with their different +tongues they called him hither and thither to different duties, were all +so much music to him. He did not know why he chuckled so much over his +work; why, at the sound of one of his bells, he gave that quick spring +which was so rapidly earning him a reputation for remarkable promptness; +but in truth there was that in the boy which met and responded to all +these things. Every bit of the clock-work machinery filled him with a +kind of glee. + +There was another reason why Tode enjoyed his hotel life. He had +discovered himself to be an epicure, and an amazing quantity of the good +things of this life fell to his share--no, hardly that--but disappeared +mysteriously from shelf and jar and box, and only grave, +innocent-looking Tode could have told whither they went. Mince-pies, and +cranberry-pies, and lemon-pies, and the whole long catalogue of pies, +were equal favorites of his, and huge pieces of them had a way of not +being found. Poor Tode, his training-school had been a sad one; the very +first principle of honesty was left out of his street education, and the +only rule he recognized was one which would assist him in not being +discovered. So he eluded sharp eyes and hoodwinked sharp people; he +commended himself for being a cute, and, withal, a lucky fellow. On the +whole, although Tode was certainly clad in decent garments, and slept in +a comfortable bed, and was to all outward appearances earning a +respectable living, I can not say that I think he was really improving. +There were ways and means of leading astray in that hotel, to which even +his street life had not given him access; and if anybody's brain ever +appeared ripe for mischief of any sort, it was certainly Tode Mall's. +Any earthly friend, if he had possessed one, would have watched his +course just now with trembling terror, and made predictions of his +certain downfall. But Tode had no friend in all that great city; not one +who ever gave him a second thought. Christian men came there often, and +were faithfully served by the boy whose soul was very precious in their +Master's eyes, but his servants never thought to speak a word to the +soul for the Master. Why should they?--it was a hotel, and they had come +in to get their dinner; that duty accomplished and they would go forth +to attend the missionary meeting, or the Bible meeting, or the tract +meeting, or some other good meeting; but those and the hotel dinner were +distinct and separate matters, and the little Bibleless heathen, who +served them to oysters and coffee, went on his way, and they went +theirs. But God looked down upon them all. As the days passed, the three +boys, whose lives had been cast in such different molds, met often. +Pliny Hastings liked exceedingly to come to the hotel for his dinner, +and, loitering around wherever best suited his fancy, await his father's +carriage. This was very much pleasanter than the long walk alone; and he +liked to bring Ben Phillips with him--first, because he was in some +respects a generous-hearted boy, and liked to bestow upon Ben the +handsome dinners which he knew how to order; and secondly, because he +was a pompous boy, and liked to show off his grandeur to his simple +friend. Was there another reason never owned even to each other, why +these two boys loved to come to that place rather than to their pleasant +homes? Did it lie in the bottom of those bright glasses filled with +"something nice and warm," which Pliny never forgot to order? Sometimes +little Mrs. Phillips worried, and good-natured Mr. Phillips laughed and +"poohed" at her fancies. Sometimes Mr. Hastings sharply forbade his +son's visits to his favorite hotel, and the next windy day sent him +thither to dine. Sometimes his fond mother thought his face singularly +flushed, and wondered why he suffered so much from headache; but only +Tode who had come up in the atmosphere, and knew all about it, cool, +indifferent Tode, looked with wise eyes upon the two boys, and remarked +philosophically to himself: + +"Them two fellows will get drunk some day, fore they know what they're +up to." + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +TWO T'S. + + +Evil days had fallen upon Tode. He stood before the window with an +unmistakable frown on his face. The demon "Ambition" had taken +possession of him, and metamorphosed him so that he didn't know himself. +The Hastings' carriage passed in its elegant beauty, and as Tode gazed +his frown deepened. Not that he wanted to be seated among the velvet +cushions with Mrs. Hastings and Miss Dora. Oh no, he still belonged to +that other sphere; but he did long with a burning, absorbing passion to +be seated on the box, not with the driver, but alone, himself _the_ +driver, above all others. Oh to be able to grasp those reins, to guide +and direct those two proud-stepping horses, to wind in and out of the +crowded street, to drive where no other dared to go, to extricate the +wheels very skillfully from among the bewildering confusion, to be a +prince among drivers! He could do it, he _knew_ he could, if only he +had the chance; but how was that to be had? Poked up here, carrying +plates and cups, and cleaning knives, wouldn't help him to that +longed-for place, Tode said, and drummed crossly on the window pane. +Already he was changed in the short space of six weeks. The clothes +clean, and whole, the clean warm bed, the plentiful supply of food, had +become every-day affairs to him, and were now just nothing at all in +comparison with those prancing horses, and his desire to get dominion +over them. Sad results had come of this new desire; all his list of +duties had dropped suddenly into entire insignificance, and he had taken +to leaving black stains on the knives, and rivers of water on the +plates, and being just exactly as long as he chose to be in doing +everything. Mr. Roberts was getting out of sorts with him, and things +were looking very much as though he would soon be discharged, and +permitted to gaze after the black horses with no troublesome +interruptions such as came to him at this present moment. + +"Bother the coffee and the old fellow who wants it. I hope it will be +hot enough to scald him. I'll drink it half up on the way in, anyhow," +muttered Tode, as he turned slowly and reluctantly from the window, +whence he could see Jonas just getting into a delightful snarl among +the wheels. Jonas was Mr. Hastings' coachman. Three gentlemen were +waiting for coffee and oysters; two friends talking and laughing while +they ate; one, sitting apart from the others, eating with haste and with +a preoccupied air. Tode having served them, fell into his accustomed +habit of hovering near, ready for service, and making use of his ears. +Curious yet respectful glances were cast now and again at the +preoccupied stranger; and when he paid his bill and departed in haste, +the two broke into a conversation concerning him. + +"Richest man in this city," remarked one of them, swallowing an immense +oyster. "Made it all in ten years, too. Came here a youngster +twenty-five years ago; had exactly twenty-five cents in the world." + +"How did he make his money?" queried his friend. + +Whereat Tode drew nearer and listened more sharply. He was immensely +interested. He was certainly a youngster, and twenty-five cents was the +exact amount of money he possessed. + +"I heard a man ask him just that question once, and he answered, +book-fashion. He's a precise sort of a fellow, and it makes me think of +Ben Franklin, or some of those fellows who ate and drank and slept by +rule. + +"'Well, sir,' he said, drawing himself up in a proud way that he has. +'Well, sir, the method is very simple. I made it a point to live up to +three maxims: Do everything exactly in its time. Do everything as well +as possible. Learn everything I possibly can about everything that can +be learned.'" + +The two laughed immensely over these directions, then swallowed their +last drops of coffee and departed, leaving Tode in an ecstasy of glee. +He had learned how to secure the management of those horses; they were +not beyond his reach after all. If so great things were attainable +merely from the following out of those simple rules, why then the +position of coachman was attainable to him. + +"Easy enough thing to do," he said, as he freshened the tables for new +comers. "It's just going straight ahead, pitching into what you've got +to do, and doing it first-rate, and finding out about everything under +the sun as fast as you can. I can do all _that_." + +And having reduced the synopsis of all success to language that best +suited his style, Tode straightened the cloths and brought fresh +napkins, and gave an extra touch to the glittering silver, and managed +to throw so much practice from his newly acquired stock in trade into +his movements, that Mr. Roberts, passing through the room, said within +himself: "That queer scamp is improving again. I believe I'll hold on to +him a while longer." So sunshine came back to Tode. Not that he gave up +the horses--not he, it was not his way to give up; but he had bright +visions in the dim distant future of himself seated grandly on a stylish +coach box, and he whistled for joy and pushed ahead. + +The very next afternoon Tode was sent on an errand to the Hastings +mansion. It wasn't often he got out in the daytime, so he made the most +of his walk; and the voice was fresh and cheery which floated up to +Pliny Hastings as he tossed wearily among the pillows in his mother's +room. + +"Is that Tode? Yes, it is, I hear his voice. Dora, ring the bell, I want +to have him come up here." + +"My son--" began Mrs. Hastings. + +"Oh now, mother, do let a fellow breathe. I've staid poked up here until +I'm ready to fly, and he's just as cute as he can be. Ring the bell, +Dora." + +Dora obeyed, and in a very few minutes thereafter Tode was ushered into +the elegance of Mrs. Hastings' sitting-room. + +"_You_ sick," he said, pausing in his work of gazing eagerly about him +to bestow a pitying glance on Pliny's pale face. "Jolly! that's awful +stupid work, ain't it? What's the matter?" + +"I should think it was," Pliny answered, laughing a little though at +Tode's tone. "I've a confounded sick headache, that's what's the +matter." + +"Pliny!" Mrs. Hastings said, rebukingly. + +"Oh bother, mother! Excruciating headache then, if that suits you +better. Tode, have you seen Ben to-day?" + +"Not a sign of him. Couldn't think what had become of you two. You're as +thick as hops, ain't you?" + +Pliny glanced uneasily at his mother, but a summons to the parlor +relieved him, and the three were left alone. Dora returned to her +writing, and her small fingers glided swiftly over the page. Tode +watched her with wondering and admiring eyes. + +"Be you writing?" he exclaimed at last. + +"Why, yes," said Dora. "Don't you see I am?" + +"How old be you?" + +"I'm eleven years old. You never studied grammar, did you?" + +"And you know how to write?" + +"Why, yes," said Dora again, this time laughing merrily. "I've known how +more than a year." + +Tode's answer was grave and thoughtful: + +"I'm fifteen." + +"Are you, though?" said Pliny. "That's just my age." + +"And can't _you_ write?" questioned Dora. + +"Me?" said Tode, growing gleeful over the thought. "I shouldn't think I +could." + +"Aren't you ever going to learn?" + +"Never thought of it. Is it fun? No, I don't suppose I'll ever learn. +Yes, I will, too. You learn me, will you?" + +"How could I? Do you mean it? Do you truly want to learn? Dear me! I +never could teach you; mamma wouldn't allow it." + +For an answer Tode stepped boldly forward, deterred by no feeling of +impropriety, and looked over the little lady's shoulder at the round +fair letters. + +"What's that?" he asked, pointing to the first letter of a sentence. + +"That is T; capital T. Why, that's the very first letter of your name." + +"I don't see anything capital about it; it twists around like a snake. +What do you curl it all up like that for?" + +"Why, that's the way to make it. Mamma says I make a very pretty letter +T, and it's a capital because--because--Oh, Pliny, why is it a capital?" + +"Because it is," answered Pliny, promptly. + +"Oh yes," said Tode, quickly. "Course that's the reason. Queer we +didn't think of it." Then to Dora. "Let's see you snarl that thing +around." + +Dora quickly and skillfully obeyed. + +"Do it again, and don't go so like lightning. How can a fellow tell what +you're about?" + +So more slowly, and again and again was the feat repeated until at last +Tode seized hold of the pen as he said: + +"Let me have a dab at the fellow; see if I can draw him." + +"Why, you do it real well. Really and truly he does, Pliny," said the +delighted Dora. + +"But do you know there are two t's?" she added, turning again to her +pupil. "One has a cross to it, just so. You make a straight mark with a +little crook to it; then you cross it, _so_." + +Pliny from his sofa chuckled and exclaimed over this explanation: "A +straight mark with a little crook to it. Oh, ho!" But the others were +absorbed, and bent eagerly over their paper, and thus the horrified Mrs. +Hastings found them on her return from the parlor, the offshoot from a +cellar rum hole bending his curly head close beside _her daughter's_! + +She exclaimed in indignant astonishment: + +"Dora Hastings!" + +And eager, innocent Dora hastened to make answer: + +"Mamma, he can make the two t's; the capital and the other, you know; +and he has them both on this piece of paper. Just see, mamma." + +"Say, now," interrupted Tode, "I've decided to do them all. You learn +me, will you? I'm to come up here every night after this with the seven +o'clock mail. Just you make a letter on a paper for me, the big fellow, +and the little one, you know, and I'll work at it off and on the next +day, and have it ready for you at night. Will you do it? Come now." + +Pliny raised himself on one elbow, his face full of interest: + +"Take a figure, Tode, with your letters; figures are a great deal +sharper than letters. I'll make one a night for you." + +"All right," said Tode. "I don't mind working in a figure now and then. +A fellow might need to use 'em." + +"Mamma," said Dora, "may I? I should so love to; it would be real +teaching, you know. He is fifteen years old, and he don't know how to +write, and it won't take one little minute of my time. Oh please yes, +mamma." + +What _could_ the elegant Mrs. Hastings say? What was there to say to so +simple, original, yet so absurd a request? Still she was annoyed, and +looked it, but she did not speak it, and Tode was not sensitive to +looks, or words either, for that matter, and moved with a brisker, more +business-like step back to the hotel, and someway felt an inch taller, +for was he not to have a new letter and a figure every evening, and did +he not know how to make two t's? + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +WHICH SHALL PROSPER, THIS OR THAT? + + +The Rev. John Birge stood before the window in his cosy little study, +and drummed disconsolately and dismally on the pane. Without there was a +genuine carnival among the elements, a mingling of snow and rain, which +became ice almost as it fell, and about which a regular northeast wind +was blustering. The Rev. John looked, and drummed, and knitted his +brows, and finally turned abruptly to little Mrs. John, who sat in the +smallest rocking-chair, toasting her feet on the hearth. + +"Now, Emma, isn't it strange that of all the evenings in the week +Thursday should be the one so constantly stormy? This is the third one +in succession that has been so unpleasant that very few could get out." + +This sentence was delivered in a half-impatient, half-desponding tone; +and Mrs. John took time to consider before she answered, soothingly: + +"Well, you will have the satisfaction of feeling that those who come out +this evening love the prayer-meeting enough to brave even such a storm +as this, and of remembering that there are many others who would brave +it if they dared." + +But the minister was not to be beguiled into comfort; he gave an +impatient kick to an envelope that lay at his feet, and continued his +story. + +"I haven't a _thing_ prepared suitable for such an evening as this. My +intention was to have a short, practical, personal talk, addressed +almost entirely to the unconverted; and I shall have Deacon Toles and +Deacon Fanning, and a few other gray-haired saints, who don't need a +word of it, to listen to me. I had in mind just the persons that I hoped +to reach by this evening's service, and that makes it all the more +discouraging to feel almost absolutely certain that not one of them will +be out to-night. I certainly do not see why it is that the one evening +of the week, which as Christians we try to give to God, should be so +often given up to storm." + +Mrs. John could not see her husband's face this time, it had been turned +again to the window pane; but there was that in the tone of his voice +which made her change her tactics. + +"It _is_ a pity and a shame," she said, in demure gravity, "that +Thursday evening of all others should prove stormy. Do you think it can +be possible that our Heavenly Father knows that so many of his people +have made it an evening of prayer? Or if he does, can't he possibly send +some poor little sinner to meeting, if it be his will to do so, as well +as those saints you spoke of?" + +The minister did not reply for a little. Presently he turned slowly from +the window and met his wife's gaze; then he laughed, a low, half-amused, +half-ashamed laugh. He could afford to do so, for be it known this was a +new order of things in the minister's household. Truth to tell, it was +the little wife who became out of sorts with the weather, with the +walking, with the people, and had to be reasoned, or coaxed, or petted +into calm by the grave, earnest, faithful, patient minister; and his +rebellious spirit had been slain to-night by the use of some of his own +weapons, hurled at him indeed in a pretty, graceful, feminine way, but +he recognized them at once, and could afford to laugh. Afterward when he +had buckled his overshoes and buttoned his overcoat, and prepared to +brave the storm in answer to the tolling bell, he came over to the +little rocking-chair. + +"My dear," he said, "we will kneel down and have a word of prayer, that +our Father will have this meeting in his care, and bring good out of +seeming ill." + +And as they knelt together they had changed places again, and the +minister's wife looked up with a kind of wistful reverence to the calm, +earnest face of her husband. + +"It storms like the mischief," Mr. Roberts said on this same evening, as +he closed the door with a bang, and a shrug of his shoulders. "Very few +people will venture out this evening. Tode, if you want an hour or two +for a frolic, now is your time to take it. After you have been up with +the mail you can go where you like until the train is due." + +Here was fun for Tode. This would give him two full hours, and he had at +least two dozen schemes for filling up the time; but it chanced that +wind and sleet and cold were too much even for him. + +"Jolly!" he said. "What a regular old stunner _that_ was," as a gust of +wind nearly blew him away; and he clapped both hands to his head to see +if his cap had withstood the shock. + +"This ain't just the charmingest kind of an evening that ever I was out. +I'd tramp back to our hotel quicker, only a fellow don't like to spend +his evening just exactly where he does all the others when it's a +holiday. I wonder what's in here? They're singing like fun, whatever +'tis. I mean to peek in--might _go_ in; no harm done in taking a look. +'Tain't anyways likely that it blows in there as it does out here. Tode +and me will just take a look, we will." + +And he pushed open the door and slipped into the nearest seat by the +fire just as the singing was concluded, and the Rev. John Birge began to +read; and the words he read were about that strange old story of the +great company and the lack of food, and the lad with the five barley +loaves and two small fishes, and the multitude that were fed, and the +twelve baskets of fragments that remained--story familiar in all its +details to every Sabbath-school scholar in the land, but utterly new to +Tode, falling on his ear for the first time, bearing all the charm of a +fairy tale to him. There was just one thing that struck this ignorant +boy as very strange, that a company of men and women, some of them +gray-headed, should spend their time in coming together that stormy +evening, and reading over and talking about so utterly improbable a +tale. He listened eagerly to see what might be the clew to this mystery. + +"We are wont to say," began Mr. Birge, "that the age of miracles is +past; yet if we knew in just what mysterious, unknown paths God leads +the children of this day to himself, I think some of their experiences +would seem to us no less miraculous than is this story which we are +considering to-night." + +No clew here to the mystery; only a number of words which Tode did not +understand, and something about God, which he could not see had anything +to do with the fairy story. I wonder if we Christian people ever fully +realize how utterly ignorant the neglected poor are of Bible truth. One +more ignorant in the matter than was Tode can hardly be imagined. He +knew, to be sure, that there was a day called Sunday, and that stores +and shops as a general rule were closed on that day, just why he would +have found very difficult to explain. He knew that there were such +buildings as churches, and that these were opened on these same Sundays, +and that well-dressed people went into them, but they had nothing +whatever to do with _him_. Oh no, neither had Sunday nor churches. He +knew in a vague general way that there was a Being called God, who +created all things, and that the aforesaid well-dressed people were in +some way connected with him; but it chanced, oh, bitter chance, that +there had never come to him the slightest intimation that God in Christ +was busy looking up the homeless, the friendless, the forsaken ones of +earth, and bidding them find home and friend and joy in him. The meeting +continued with but one other interruption. Midway in the services the +door opened somewhat noisily, and with many a rustle and flutter Mrs. +Hastings and Miss Dora made their way from out the storm and found +shelter in the quiet chapel. This was just as Deacon Fanning asked a +question. + +"Mr. Birge, don't you think this little story is to teach us, among +other things, that God can take the very few, weak, almost worthless +materials that we bring him, and do great things with them?" + +"I think we may learn that precious truth from the story," answered Mr. +Birge. "And I never feel saddened and discouraged with the thought that +I have nothing with which to feed the multitudes, that this story does +not bring me comfort. God doesn't need even our five barley loaves, but +stoops to use them that we may feel ourselves workers together with +him." + +What queer talk it was! Tode had never heard anything like it in his +life. + +Then Deacon Toles had something to say. + +"Andrew, Simon Peter's brother, just expresses our feelings, I think, +sometimes. 'There is a lad here which hath five barley loaves, and two +small fishes; but what are they among so many?' Andrew was gloomy and +troubled even while talking face to face with Jesus. Not disposed to +think that the Master could do anything with so little food as that, +it's just the way I feel every now and then. 'Lord, here we are, a +handful of people, and we have fragments of the bread of life in our +hearts: but what are we among so many?'" + +"Yet the Lord fed the five thousand despite Andrew's doubts," chimed in +the pastor. "May we not hope and pray that he will deal thus graciously +with us?" + +Tode could make nothing of it all, and was half inclined to slip out and +go on his way; but the same dear Savior who had so long ago fed the five +thousand had his All-seeing Eye bent on this one poor boy, and had +prepared a crumb for him. + +There arose from the seat near the door an old gray-haired man. His +dress was very plain and poor, his manner was uncultured, his language +was ungrammatical. There were those who were disposed to think that so +illiterate a man as old Mr. Snyder ought not to take up the valuable +time. However old Mr. Snyder prayed, and Tode listened. + +"O, dear Jesus," he said, "the same who was on the earth so many years +ago, and fed the hungry people, feed us to-night. We are poor, we want +to be rich; take us for thy children; help us to come to thee just as +the people used to do when thou didst walk this very earth, and ask for +what we want. We need a friend just like Jesus for our own--a friend who +will love us always, who will take care of us always, who will give us +everything we need, and heaven by and by. We know none are too poor or +too bad for thee to take and wash in thy blood, and feed with thy love +which lasts forever. Give us faith to trust thee always, to work for +thee here, and to keep looking ahead to that home in heaven, which thou +hast got all ready for us when we die. Amen." + +There were those present who did not quite see the connection of this +prayer with the topic of the evening. There were those who thought it +very commonplace and rather childish in language. But how can we tell +what strange, bewildering thoughts it raised in the heart of our poor +Tode? + +Was there really such a somebody somewhere as that man talked about, who +would make people rich, or anyhow give them all they needed; who would +take care of them, no matter how poor or how bad; who would even take +care of them in that awful time when they had to die, and all this just +for the asking? If there were any truth in it why didn't folks ask, and +have it all? But then if there wasn't, what did these folks all mean? + +"They don't look like fools; now that's a fact," said Tode, +meditatively, and was in great bewilderment. + +The meeting closed. Mrs. Hastings rustled up to the minister. + +"So sorry to have intruded upon you, Mr. Birge, but the gale was so +unusually severe. Dora and I were making our way to the carriage, which +was but a very short distance away, and just as we reached your door +there came a fearful gust of wind and we were obliged to desist." + +While Mr. Birge was explaining that to come to prayer-meeting was not +considered an intrusion, Dora turned to Tode. Now Tode had in mind all +day a burning desire to tell Dora that he had made all the twenty-six +letters of the alphabet, just twenty-six times on twenty-six old +envelopes that he had gathered together from various waste-baskets, and +could "make every one of 'em to a dot." But instead of all this he said: + +"Say, do you believe all this queer talk?" + +"What do you mean, Tode?" + +"Why this about the youngster, and his fishes and bread, and such lots +of folks eating 'em, and more left when they got done than there was +when they begun. Likely story, ain't it?" + +Dora's eyes were large and grave. + +"Why, Tode, it's in the Bible," she said, reverently. + +Tode knew nothing about reverence, and next to nothing about the Bible. + +"What of that?" he said, defiantly. "It's queer stuff all the same; and +what did that old man mean about his friend, and taking care of folks, +everybody, good or bad, and feeding 'em, and all that?" + +"It's about Jesus, Tode. Don't you know; he died, you see, for us, and +if we love him he'll take care of us, and take us to heaven. Sometimes +do you think that you'll belong to him, Tode? I do once in a while." + +"I don't know anything what you're talking about," was Tode's answer, +more truthful than grammatical. + +"Why, give your heart to him, you know, and love him, and pray, and all +that. But, Tode, won't you run around to Martyn's and order the carriage +for us? John was to wait there until we came, and I guess he'll think we +are never coming." + +Mrs. Hastings repeated the direction, and Tode vanished, brushing by in +his exit the very man who had prayed at his dying mother's bedside years +before, and who had intended to keep an eye on him. As he slid along the +icy pavements the boy ruminated on what he had heard, and especially on +that last explanation, "Why, give your heart to him, you know, and love +him, and pray, and all that." To whom, and how, and where, and when? +What a perfectly bewildering confusion it all was to Tode. + +"I'll be hanged if I can make head or tail to any of it," he said aloud. + +Then he whistled, but after a moment his whistle broke off into a great +heavy sigh. Someway there was in Tode's heart a dull ache, a longing +aroused that night, and which nothing but the All-seeing, All-pitying +Love could ever soothe. + +"There were fourteen people in prayer-meeting," the Rev. John informed +his wife. "The two deacons of whom I spoke, and several other good men. +I couldn't make use of my lecture at all, for there were none present +but professing Christians, save and except Mrs. Pliny Hastings, who +apologized for _intruding_!" + +And then the husband and wife laughed, a half-amused, half-sorrowful +laugh. + +After a moment Mr. Birge added: + +"There _was_ a rather rough-looking boy there; strayed in from the +storm, I presume. I meant to speak with him, but Mrs. Hastings annoyed +me so much that it escaped my mind until he brushed past me and +vanished." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +"TAKE IT AWAY!" + + +Tode rang the bell at Mr. Hastings', and waited in some anxiety as to +whether he should get a glimpse of Miss Dora. He had some momentous +questions to ask her. Fortune, or, in other words, Providence, favored +him. While he waited for orders, Dora danced down the hall with a +message. + +"Tode, papa says you are to come in the dining-room and wait; he wants +to send a note by you." + +"All right," said Tode, following her into the brightly lighted room, +and plunging at once into his subject. + +"Look here, what did you mean the other night about hearts, and things?" + +"About what?" + +"Why, don't you know? Down there to the meeting." + +"Oh! Why I meant _that_; just what I said. That's the way they always +talk at a prayer-meeting about Jesus, and loving him, and all that." + +"Was that a prayer-meeting where we was t'other night?" + +"Why yes, of course. Tode, have you got the letters and figures all +made?" + +"Do you go every time?" + +"What, to prayer-meeting? What a funny idea. No, of course not. It +stormed, you know, and we had to go in somewhere. Wasn't it an awful +night?" + +"Who is Jesus, anyhow?" + +"Why, he is God. Tode, how queer you act. Why don't you ask Mr. Birge, +or somebody, if you want to know such things. Mamma says he is awful." + +"Awful!" + +"Yes, awful good, you know. He's the minister down there at that chapel. +Wasn't it a funny looking church? Ours don't look a bit like that. Tode, +where do you go to church?" + +"My!" said Tode, with his old merry chuckle. "That's a queer one. _I_ +don't go to church nowhere; never did." + +"You ought to," answered Miss Dora, with a sudden assumption of dignity. +"It isn't nice not to go to church and to Sunday-school. _I_ go. Pliny +doesn't, because he has the headache so much. Shall I show you my +card?" + +And she produced from her pocket a dainty bit of pasteboard, and held it +up. + +"There, that's our verse. The whole school learn it for next Sunday. +Then we shall have a speech about it." + +A sudden shiver ran through Tode's frame as he read the words printed on +that card: + +"The eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the evil and the +good." + +He knew very little about that All-seeing Eye, but it came upon him like +a great shock, the picture of the eye of God reaching everywhere, +beholding the _evil_. He felt afraid, and alone, and desolate. He did +not know what was the matter with him, he had felt so strangely troubled +and unhappy since that evening of the meeting. Almost the tears came +into his eyes as he stood there beside Dora, looking down at that +terrible verse. + +"Take it away," he said, suddenly, turning from the bit of pasteboard. +"I don't want his eyes looking at me." + +"You can't help it," Dora answered, with great emphasis. "There are more +just such verses, 'Thou God seest me;' and oh, plenty of them. And he +certainly _does_ see you all the time, whether you want him to or not." + +"Well stop!" said Tode, with a sudden gruffness that Dora had never seen +in him before. "I don't want to hear another bit about it, nor your +verse, nor anything--not a word. I wish you had let me alone. I don't +believe it, anyhow, nor I won't, nor I ain't a going to--so." + +At that moment Mr. Hastings' note came, and miserable Tode went on his +way. _How_ miserable he was; the glimmering lamps along the gloomy +streets seemed to him eyes of fire burning into his thoughts; the very +walls of his darkened room, when he had reached that retreat, seemed to +glow on every side with great terrible, all-seeing eyes. Over and over +again was that fearful sentence repeated: "The eyes of the Lord are in +every place, beholding the evil." Just then he stopped. He had suddenly +grown so vile in his own eyes that it seemed to him that there was +nothing good left to behold; he tumbled and tossed on his narrow bed; he +covered himself, eyes, head, all, in the bed-clothes; but it was of no +use, that piercing Eye saw into the darkness and through all the +covering--and oh, Tode was afraid! + +He was a brave, fearless boy; no darkness had ever before held any +terrors for him. I am not sure that he would not have whistled +contemptuously over a whole legion of supposed ghosts. He was entirely +familiar with, and quite indifferent to, that most frightful of all +human sights, a reeling, swearing drunkard; but this was quite another +matter, this great solemn eye of God, which he felt to-night for the +first time, looking steadily down upon him, never forgetting him for a +moment, never by any chance turning away and giving him time to go to +sleep. Tode didn't know why he felt this terrible new feeling; he didn't +know that the loving, pitying Savior had his tender eyes bent on him, +and was calling him, that God had used that powerful thrust from the +Spirit to wound his sinful heart; he knew nothing about it, save that he +was afraid, and desolate and very miserable. Suddenly he sprung up, a +little of his ordinary determination coming back to him. + +"What's the use," he muttered, "of a fellow lying shivering here; if I +can't sleep, I might as well give it up first as last I'll go down to +the parlor, and whistle 'Yankee Doodle,' or something else until train +time." + +But his hand trembled so in his attempt to strike a light, that he +failed again and again. Finally he was dressed, and went out into the +hall. Mr. Roberts opened his own door at that moment, and seeing the boy +gave him what he thought would be a happy message: + +"Tode, you can sleep over to-night. Jim is on hand, and you may be ready +for the five o'clock train." + +No excuse now for going down stairs, and the wretched boy crept back to +his room; _utterly_ wretched he felt, and he had no human friend to help +him, no human heart to comfort him. He wrapped a quilt about him and sat +down on the edge of his bed to calculate how long his bit of candle +would probably burn, and what he _should_ do when he was left once more +in that awful darkness. On his table lay a half-burnt lamp lighter. He +mechanically untwisted it, and twisted it up again, busy still with that +fearful sentence: "The eyes of the Lord are in _every_ place." The +lighter was made of a bit of printed paper, and Tode could read. The +letters caught his eye, and he bent forward to decipher them; and of all +precious words that can be found in our language, came these home to +that troubled youth: "Look unto me and be ye saved, all--" Just there +the paper was burned. No matter, be ye _saved_, that was what he wanted. +He felt in his inmost soul that he needed to be saved, from himself, and +from some dreadful evil that seemed near at hand. Now how to do it? The +smoke-edged bit of paper said, "Look unto me." Who was that blessed +_Me_, and where was he, and how could Tode look to him? + +Quick as lightning the boy's memory went back to that evening in the +chapel, and the wonderful story of one Jesus, and the gray-haired man +in the corner, who stood up and shut his eyes, and spoke to Jesus just +as if he had been in the room. Perhaps, oh, _perhaps_, the All-seeing +Eye belonged to him? No, that could not be, for that card said, "The +eyes of the Lord," and Tode knew that meant God, but you see he knew +nothing about that blessed Trinity, the three in One. Then he remembered +his question to Dora: "Who is Jesus, anyhow?" and her answer: "Why, he +is God." What if it should in some strange way all mean God? Couldn't he +try? Suppose he should stand up in the corner like that old man, and +shut his eyes and speak to Jesus? What harm could it do? A great +resolution came over him to try it at once. He went over to the corner +at the foot of his bed with the first touch of reverence in his face +that perhaps it had ever felt. He closed his eyes and said aloud: "O +Jesus, save me." Over and over again were the words repeated, solemnly +and slowly, and in wonderful earnestness: "O Jesus, save me." Gradually +something of the terror died out of his tones, and there came instead a +yearning, longing sound to his voice, while again and yet again came the +simple words: "O Jesus, save me." + +After a little Tode came quietly out of his corner, deliberately blew +out his light and went to bed, not at all unmindful of the All-seeing +Eye; but someway it had ceased to burn. He felt very grave and solemn, +but not exactly afraid, and a new strange feeling of some loving +presence in his room possessed his heart, and the thought of that name +Jesus brought tears into his eyes, he didn't know why. He didn't know +that there was such a thing as being a Christian; he didn't know that he +had anything to do with Christ; he didn't know that he was in the least +different from the Tode who lay there but an hour before only. Yes, that +solemn Eye did not make him afraid now; and with an earnest repeatal of +his one prayer, which he did not know _was_ prayer, "O Jesus, save me," +Tode went to sleep. + +But I think that the recording angel up in heaven opened his book that +night and wrote a new name on its pages, and that the ever-listening +Savior said, "_I_ have called him by his name; he is mine." + +In the gray glimmering dawn of the early morning Tode stood out on the +steps, and waited for the rush of travelers from the train. They came +rushing in, cold and cross, many of them unreasonable, too, as cold and +hungry travelers so often are; but on each and all the boy waited, +flying hither and thither, doing his utmost to help make them +comfortable; being apparently not one whit different from the bustling +important boy who flew about there every morning intent upon the same +duties, and yet he had that very morning fallen heir to a glorious +inheritance. True, he did not know it yet, but no matter for that, his +title was sure. + +The days went round, and Sunday morning came. Now Sunday was a very busy +day at the hotel. Aside from the dreadful Sunday trains that came +tearing into town desecrating the day, the whole country seemed to +disgorge itself, and pleasure-seekers came in cliques of twos and fours +for a ride and a warm dinner on this gala day. Tode had wont to be busy +and blithe on these days, but on this eventful Sabbath morning it was +different. Gradually he was becoming aware that some strange new +feelings possessed his heart. He had continued the repeatal of the one +prayer, "O Jesus, save me;" going always to the corner at the foot of +his bed, and closing his eyes to repeat it. And now he was conscious of +the fact that he had little thrills of delight all over him when he said +these words, and a new, strange, sweet sense of protection and +friendship stole over him from some unknown source. Now a longing +possessed him to know something more about Jesus. He had heard of him at +only one place, that chapel. Naturally his thoughts turned toward it. He +knew it would be open on that day, and "Who knows," said ignorant Tode +to himself, "but they might happen to say something about him to-day." +In short, Tode, knowing nothing about "Remember the Sabbath day, to keep +it holy," never having so much as heard that there _was_ a fourth +commandment, wanted to go to church. And wanting this very much, knew at +the same time that it was an extremely doubtful case, utterly unlikely +that he should be allowed to go. + +He brushed his hair before his bit of glass, and buttoned on his clean +collar, all the time in deep thought. A sudden resolution came to him, +that old man had said Jesus would give us everything we wanted or needed +or something like that. + +"I'll try it," said Tode, aloud and positively. "'Tain't no harm if it +don't do no good, and 'tain't nobody's business, anyhow." + +And with these strangely original thoughts on the subject of prayer, he +went into his corner, but once there the reverent look with which he +nowadays pronounced that sacred name spread over his face as he said, "O +Jesus, I want to go to that church, and I s'pose I can't." This was +everything Tode was conscious of wanting just at present, so this was +all he said, only repeating it again and again. + +Then when he went down stairs he marched directly to headquarters, and +made known his desires. + +"Mr. Roberts, I want this forenoon to myself. Can I have it?" + +"You do," answered Mr. Roberts, eyeing him thoughtfully. "Well, as such +requests are rare from you, and as Jim's brother is here to help, I +think I may say yes." + +"A queer, bright, capable boy," Mr. Roberts thought, looking after Tode +as he dashed off down town. "Going to make just the man for our +business. I must begin to promote him soon." + +As for Tode he was in high glee. + +"What brought that Jim's brother over to help to-day?" he asked himself. +"I'd like to know _that_ now. I believe I do, as sure as I'm alive, that +_he_ heard every word, and has been and fixed it all out. I most know he +has, 'cause things didn't ever happen around like this for me before." + +The pronoun "he" did not refer to Jim's brother, and was spoken with +that touch of awe and reverence which had so lately come to Tode. And I +think that the words were recorded up in heaven, as having a meaning not +unlike the acknowledgment of those less ignorant disciples, "Lord, I +believe." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +HABAKKUK. + + +The church toward which Tode bent his eager steps was quite filled when +he reached it, but the sexton made a way for him, and he settled into a +seat with a queer, awkward sense of having slipped into a spot that was +not intended for such as he; but the organ tones took up his attention, +and then in a moment a burst of music from the congregation, among the +words of which he could catch ever and anon that magic name Jesus. So at +least they were going to sing about him. Yes, and talk to him also, for +Mr. Birge's prayer, though couched in language quite beyond Tode's +reaching, yet closed with the to him wonderful sentence, "We ask in the +name and for the sake of Jesus our Redeemer." When he opened the great +book which Tode knew was the Bible, the boy was all attention; something +more from the Bible he was anxious to hear. He got out his bit of pencil +and a crumpled twist of paper, and when Mr. Birge announced that he +would read the fourth Psalm, Tode bent forward and carefully and +laboriously made a figure four and the letters S A M in his very best +style, and believed that he had it just right. Then he listened to the +reading as sometimes those do not who can glibly spell the words. Yet +you can hardly conceive how like a strange language it sounded to him, +so utterly unfamiliar was he with the style, so utterly ignorant of its +meaning. Only over the last verse he had almost laughed. + +"I will both lay me down in peace and sleep; for thou, Lord, only makest +me dwell in safety." + +_Didn't_ he know about that? The awful night, those dreadful eyes, and +the peace in which he laid down and slept at last. + +"Oh, ho," he said to himself, "some other fellow has had a time of it, +too, I guess, and put it in the Bible. I'm glad I've found out about it +just as I did." + +Tode didn't mean to be irreverent. You must continually bear in mind the +fact that he didn't know the meaning of the word; that he knew nothing +about the Bible, nor dreamed that the words which so delighted him were +those of inspiration, sounding down through the ages for the peace and +comfort of such as he. + +Presently Mr. Birge announced his text, reading it from that same great +book, and Tode's heart fluttered with delighted expectation as he heard +the words, "Jesus of Nazareth passeth by." The _very_ name! and of all +news this, that he passes by. Oh, Tode _wanted_ so to see him, to hear +about him. He sat erect, and his dark cheek flushed with excitement as +he listened eagerly to every word. And the Spirit of the Master had +surely helped to indite that sermon, for it told in its opening +sentences the simple story, entirely new to Tode. + +"A little more than eighteen hundred years ago, very near a certain +city, might have been seen a large concourse of people, differently +circumstanced in life, many of them such as had been healed of the +various diseases with which they had long been afflicted. This throng +were following a person upon whose words they hung, and by whose power +many of them had been healed. As they passed by the roadside sat a blind +man begging. He, hearing the crowd, asks what it is. They answer, 'Jesus +of Nazareth passeth by.'" + +Thus, through the beautiful and touching story, he dwelt on each detail, +giving it vivid coloring, bringing it almost before the very eyes of the +eager boy, who drank in every word. + +The truth grew plain to his mind, that this Jesus of Nazareth once on +earth had now gone back to heaven, and yet, oh beautiful mystery, still +was here; and he heard for the first time that old, old story of the +scoffed and spit upon, and bleeding and dying Savior; heard of his +prayer even in dying for the cruel ones who took his life. So simply and +so tenderly was the story told, that when the minister exclaimed: "Oh +what a loving, sympathizing, forgiving Savior is ours!" Tode, with his +eyes blinded by tears, repeated the words in his heart, and felt "amen." + +Then came the explanation of his passing by us now, daily, hourly, +calling us in a hundred ways, and then--a few sentences written, it +would seem, expressly for Tode's own need: + +"Sometimes," said the minister, "he passes by, speaking to the soul with +some passage from the Word. Did you never wonder that some portion, some +little sentence from the Bible, should so forcibly impress your mind, +and so cling to you? Perhaps you tried to drive it away so much did it +trouble you, but still it hovered around, and seemed to keep repeating +itself over and over to your heart. Be not deceived. This was Jesus of +Nazareth passing by, waiting for you to say, 'Jesus, thou Son of David, +have mercy on me.'" + +Was ever anything so wonderful! How could Mr. Birge have found out +about it--that dreadful night--and the one verse saying itself over and +over again! Then to think that it was Jesus himself calling and waiting. +Could it be possible--was he really calling _him_? And the tears which +had been gathering in Tode's eyes dropped one by one on his hand. + +Presently, as he listened, the minister's tones grew very solemn. + +"There are none before me to-day who can say, 'He never came to me.' +Sinner, he is near you now, near enough to hear your voice, near enough +to answer your call. Will you call upon him? Will you let him help you? +Will you take him for your Savior? Will you serve him while you live on +earth that you may live in heaven to serve him forever?" + +From Tode's inmost soul there came answers to these solemn questions: "I +will, I will, I will." + +And there went out from the church that Sabbath day one young heart who +felt himself cured of his blindness by that same Jesus of Nazareth; who +felt himself given up utterly to Jesus, body and soul and life; and +without a great insight as to what that solemn consecration meant, he +yet took in enough of it to feel a great peace in his heart. + +"There goes a Christian man, if ever there was one." This said a +gentleman to his companion, speaking of another who had passed them. + +Tode overheard it, and stood still on the street. + +"A Christian," said he to himself, quoting from a sentence in Mr. +Birge's sermon. "A Christian is one who loves and serves the Lord Jesus +Christ with his whole heart." Then aloud. "I wonder, I do wonder now, if +I am a Christian? Oh, what if I was!" A moment of earnest thought, then +Tode held up his head and walked firmly on. "I _mean_ to be," he said, +with a ring in his voice that meant decision. + +Tode was dusting and putting in order a lately vacated room one morning. +He was whistling, too; he whistled a great deal these days, and felt +very bright and happy. He picked up three leaves which had evidently +been torn from an old book; reading matter was rather scarce with him, +and he stopped the dusting to discover what new treasure might be +awaiting him here. He spelled out, slowly and carefully, the name at the +top: "H-a-b-a-k-k-u-k." + +"Queerest name for a book ever I heard of," he muttered. "Words must +have been scarce, I reckon. Let's see what it reads about. School book, +like enough; if 'tis I'll get it all by heart." + +And Tode sat down upon the edge of a chair to investigate. The story, +if story it were, commenced abruptly to him. + +"Scorn unto them," being the first words on the page. He read on: "They +shall deride every stronghold; for they shall heap dust and take it." + +"My! what curious talk," said Tode. "What ever is it coming at? I can't +make nothing out of it." + +Nevertheless he read on; only a few lines more and then this sentence: +"Art thou not from everlasting, O Lord my God, mine Holy One?" + +A sudden look of intelligence and delight flushed over Tode's face; and +springing up he rushed into the hall and down the stairs, nearly +tumbling over Mr. Ryan in his haste. + +Mr. Ryan was a good-natured boarder, and on very friendly terms with +Tode. + +"Oh, Mr. Ryan!" burst forth Tode. "What is this reading on these +leaves?" + +"Why, Tode, what's up now; forgot how to read?" + +"Oh bother, no; but I mean where did it come from. It's tore out of a +book, don't you see?" + +"Piece of a Bible," answered Mr. Ryan, giving the leaves a careless and +the boy a searching glance. "What is there so interesting about it?" + +"What's it got such a queer name for? What does H-a-b-a-k-k-u-k spell, +and what does it mean?" + +"That's a man's name, I believe." + +"Who was he, and what about him?" + +"More than I know, my boy. Never heard of him before that I know of. +What do you care?" + +It was Tode's turn to bestow a searching glance. + +"Got a Bible of your own?" he asked at last. + +"Oh yes, I own one, I believe." + +"And never read it! Bah, what good does it do you to have books if you +don't read 'em? Now I'm going to find out about this 'H-a-b-a-k-k-u-k,' +and then I shall know more than you do." + +Mr. Ryan laughed a little, but withal seemed somewhat embarrassed. Tode +left him and sped back to his dusting. + +"Queer chap that," muttered Mr. Ryan. "I don't know what to make of +him." + +And a little sense of what might be termed shamefacedness stole over him +at the thought that this ignorant boy prized more highly his three +leaves of a Bible, picked out of the waste-basket, and possibly was +going to know more about it than he, Edgar Ryan, had gleaned from his +own handsomely bound copy, wherein his Christian mother had written +years ago his own loved name. Mr. Ryan, the cultivated young lawyer, +took down his handsome Bible from the shelf of unused books as soon as +he had reached his office, dusted it carefully, and turned over the +leaves to discover something about Habakkuk. + +As for Tode, he literally poured over his three leaves. Very little of +the language did he understand--the great and terrible figures were +utterly beyond his knowledge; yet as he read them once, and again and +again, something of the grandeur and sublimity stole into his heart, +helped him without his knowledge, and now and then a word came home, and +he caught a vague glimpse of its meaning. "Thou art of purer eyes than +to behold evil." That was plain; that must mean the great All-seeing +Eyes, for Tode knew enough of human nature to have much doubt as to +whether any human eyes were pure. But then those unsleeping eyes _did_ +behold evil--saw. Oh, Tode could conceive better than many a +Sabbath-school scholar can just how much evil there was to behold. How +was that? Ah! Tode's brain didn't know, couldn't tell; but into his +heart had come the knowledge that between all the evil men and women in +this evil world, and those pure eyes of an angry God, there stood the +blood-red cross of Christ. + +There were many guests to be waited on; the tables were filling rapidly. +Tode was springing about with eager steps, handling deftly coffee, +oysters, wine, anything that was called for--bright, busy, brisk as +usual. As he set a cup of steaming coffee beside Mr. Ryan's plate, that +gentleman glanced up good-humoredly and addressed him. + +"Well, Tode, how is Habakkuk?" + +"First-rate, sir, only there's some queer things in it." + +"I should think there was!" laughed Mr. Ryan, spilling his coffee in his +mirth. "Rather beyond you, isn't it?" + +"Well, _some_ of it," said Tode, hesitatingly. "But it all means +_something_, likely, and I'm learning it, so I'll have it on hand to +find out about one of these days, when I find a lawyer or somebody who +can explain it, you know." + +This last with a twinkle of the eye, and a certain almost noiseless +chuckle, that said it was intended to hit. + +"You're learning it!" exclaimed Mr. Ryan, undisguised astonishment +mingling with his amusement. + +"Yes, sir. Learn a figure a day. It's all marked off into figures, you +know, sir." + +"Well, of all queer chaps, you're the queerest!" + +And Mr. Ryan went off into another laugh as Tode sped away to a new +corner. By the time he was ready for a second cup of coffee, Mr. Ryan +was also ready with more questions. + +"Well, sir, what's to-day's figure?" + +"For the earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the +Lord, as the waters cover the sea," repeated Tode, promptly and glibly. + +"Indeed! and what do you make out of that?" + +"It makes itself; and that's something that's going to be one of these +days." + +"Oh, and what does the 'glory of the Lord' mean, Tode?" + +"_I_ don't know; expect _he_ does, though," answered Tode, simply and +significantly. + +Mr. Ryan didn't seem inclined to continue that line of questioning. + +"Well," he said, presently, "let's turn to an easier chapter. What's +to-morrow's figure?" + +"Don't know. I might look though, if you wanted to hear." And Tode drew +his precious three leaves from his vest pocket. + +"Oh, you carry Habakkuk about with you, do you? Well, let's have the +figure by all means, only pass me that bottle of wine first." + +But Tode's face paled and his limbs actually shook. + +"I can't do it," he said at last. + +"You can't! Why, what's up?" + +"Just look for yourself, sir. It's the figure 15." And he thrust the bit +of leaf before the gay young lawyer, and pointed with his finger to the +spot. + +Of all words that could have come before his eyes just then, it seemed +strange indeed that these should be the ones: + +"Woe unto him that giveth his neighbor drink!" + +"Pshaw!" said Mr. Ryan at last, with a little nervous laugh. "Don't be a +goose, Tode. Take your paper away and pass me the wine." + +"I can't, sir," answered Tode, earnestly. "I promised him to-day, I did, +that I was going to do it all just as fast as I found it out." + +"Promised who? What are you talking about?" + +"Promised the Lord Jesus Christ, sir. I told him this very day." + +"Fiddlesticks. You don't understand. This refers to drunkards." + +"It don't say so," answered Tode, simply. + +"Yes, it does. Don't it say, 'and makes him drunk?'" + +"It says and makes him drunk _also_," Tode said, with a sharp, searching +look. + +Mr. Ryan laughed that short nervous laugh again. + +"You ought to study law, Tode," was all _he_ said. Then after a moment. +"I advise you to attend to business, and let Habakkuk look after +himself. Jim, pass that wine bottle this way." + +This to another attendant who was near at hand, and Tode moved away to +attend to other wants, and to turn over in his mind this new and +startling thought. + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +BUSINESS AND BOTTLES. + + +He was still thinking when the busy work of the day was done--thinking +anxiously about the same thing. + +"It's _there_, plain as day," he said, in a perplexed tone, sitting down +on the corner of the bed, and running his fingers distractedly through +his hair. "'Woe unto him that giveth his neighbor drink, that puttest +thy bottle to him.' That's it, word for word, and that's the Bible, and +I do it, why fifty times a day; and I've got to if I stay here. That's a +fact, no getting around it. 'Tain't my bottle, though, it's Mr. +Roberts', and back of him it's Mr. Hastings'. I do declare!" And Tode +paused, overwhelmed with this new thought. + +"Whatever do them two men mean now, I'd like to know?" he continued, +after a moment. "Don't make no kind of difference, though; that's +_their_ lookout, I reckon. It's _me_ that puts the bottle to the +neighbors' lips, time and time again. No gettin' around that. They ain't +my neighbors, though. I ain't got no neighbors, them are folks that +lives next door to you. Well, even then, there's Mr. Ryan, he's next +door to mine, and there's young Holden and that peanut man, they're next +door on t'other side, and there's Mr. Pierson, he's next door below. +Why, now, I've got neighbors thick as hops, nearer than most folks have, +and I put the bottle to their lips every day of my life, every single +one of 'em." + +Silence for a little, and then another phase of the question. + +"Well, now, where's the use? If _I_ didn't hand the bottle to 'em, why +Jim _would_; and they'd get it all the same, so where's the difference? +That's none of my business," Tode answered himself sharply, and with a +touch of the feeling which means, "Get thee behind me, Satan." "It don't +say 'woe to Jim,' and I ain't got nothing to do with him; it don't say +that if it's got to be done anyhow, I may as well do it as any other +fellow. It just says '_woe_' right out, sharp and plain; and I know +about it, and I do it, that's the point. Stick to that point, Tode Mall, +you blockhead, you. If you're arguing a thing, why don't you _argue_, +and not slip and slide all over creation." + +Ah, Tode, if only wiser heads than yours would remember that important +item. + +"Well," said this young logician, rising at last from the edge of his +bed, and heaving a bit of a sigh as he did so, "the long and short of it +is, it can't be done--never, any more; and then there comes a thing that +has got to be done right straight, and I've got to go and do it, and +that's the worst of it, and I don't know what to do next, that's a fact; +but that's neither here nor there." + +With this extremely lucid explanation of his decision and his +intentions, Tode put on his hat and went to the post-office. + +Thus it happened that when Mr. Hastings mail had been delivered as +usual, the boy hesitated, and finally asked with an unusual falter in +his voice: + +"Can I see Mr. Hastings a minute?" + +"Well, sir," said that gentleman, whirling around from his table, and +putting himself in a lounging attitude. "Well, sir, what can I do for +you this evening? Anything in the line of business?" + +This he said with the serio-comic air which he seemed unable to avoid +assuming whenever he talked with this traveling companion of his. + +Tode plunged at once into the pith of the matter. + +"Yes, sir, I've come to talk about business. I've got to leave your +hotel, and I thought I'd better come and let you know." + +"Indeed! Have you decided to change your occupation? Going to study law +or medicine, Tode?" + +"I haven't made up my mind," said Tode. "I've just got to the leaving +part." + +"Bad policy, my boy. Never leave one good foothold until you see just +where to put your foot when you spring." + +"Ho!" said Tode, "I have stepped in a bog and sunk in; now I've got to +spring, and trust to luck for getting on a stone." + +Mr. Hastings leaned back in his chair and laughed. + +"You'll do," he said at length. "But seriously, my boy, what has +happened at the hotel? I heard good accounts of you, and I thought you +were getting on finely. Does Jim leave all the boots for you to black, +or what is the matter? You musn't quarrel with a good business for +trifles." + +"It's not Jim nor boots, sir, it's bottles." + +"Bottles!" + +"Yes, sir, bottles. I'm not going to put 'em to my neighbors any more; +and I don't see what any of you mean by it. Like enough, though, you +never noticed that figure?" + +"Are you sure you know what you are talking about, Tode?" inquired Mr. +Hastings, with a curious mixture of amusement and dignity. "Because I +certainly do not seem able to follow your train of thought." + +"Why, that Habakkuk; he's the one who says it, sir. But then you know +it's in the Bible, and I've made up my mind not to do it." + +"Ah, I begin to understand. So you came up here to-night for the purpose +of delivering a temperance lecture for my benefit. That was kind, +certainly, and I am all ready to listen. Proceed." + +Never was sarcasm more entirely lost. Tode was as bright and sharp as +ever, and had never been taught to be respectful. + +"No, sir," he answered, promptly, "I didn't come for that at all. I came +to tell you that I had got to quit your business; but if you want to +hear a temperance lecture there's Habakkuk; he can do it better than +anybody _I_ know of." + +Mr. Hastings' dignity broke once more into laughter. + +"Well, Tode," he said at last, "I'm sorry you're such a simpleton. I had +a higher opinion of your sharpness. I think Mr. Roberts meant to do well +by you. Who has been filling your head with these foolish ideas?" + +"Habakkuk has, sir. Only one who has said a word." + +There was no sort of use in talking to Tode. Mr. Hastings seemed +desirous of cutting the interview short. + +"Very well," he said, "I don't see but you have taken matters entirely +into your own hands. What do you want of me?" + +"Nothing, sir, only I--" And here Tode almost broke down; a mist came +suddenly before his eyes, and his voice seemed to slip away from him. +The poor boy felt himself swinging adrift from the only one to whom he +had ever seemed to belong. A very soft, tender feeling had sprung up in +his heart for this rich man. It had been pleasant to meet him on the +street and think, "I belong to him." The feeling was new to the +friendless, worse than orphan boy, and he had taken great pride and +pleasure in it; so now he choked, and his face grew red as at last he +stammered: + +"I--I like you, and--" Then another pause. + +Mr. Hastings bowed. + +"That is very kind, certainly. What then?" + +"Would you let me bring up the mail for you evenings just the same? I +wouldn't want no pay, and I'd like to keep doing it for you." + +Mr. Hastings shook his head. + +"Oh no, I wouldn't trouble a man of your position for the world. Jim, or +some other _boy_, will answer my purpose very well. Since you choose to +cut yourself aloof from me when I was willing to befriend you, why you +must abide by your intentions, and not hang around after me in any way." + +Tode's eyes flashed. + +"I don't _want_ to hang around you," he began as he turned to go. Then +he stopped again; he was leaving the house for the last time. This one +friend of his was out of sorts with him, wouldn't let him come again; +and the little Dora, who had showed him about making all the letters and +figures, he was to see no more. All the tender and gentle in his heart, +and there was a good deal, swelled up again. There were tears in his +eyes when he looked back at Mr. Hastings with his message. + +"Would you please tell your little girl that I'm glad about the letters +and figures, and I'll never forget 'em; and--and--if I can ever do some +little thing for you I'll do it." + +Someway Mr. Hastings was growing annoyed. He spoke in mock dignity. + +"I shall certainly remember your kindness," he said, bowing low. "And if +ever I should be in need of your valuable assistance, I shall not +hesitate to send for you." + +So Tode went out from the Hastings' mansion feeling sore-hearted, +realizing thus early in his pilgrimage that there were hard places in +the way. He walked down the street with a troubled, perplexed air. What +to do next was the question. That is, having settled affairs with Mr. +Roberts, and slept for the last time in his little narrow bed, whither +should he turn his thoughts and his steps on the morrow? Tode had been +earning his living, and enjoying the comforts of a home long enough to +have a sore, choked feeling over the thought of giving them up. A sense +of desolation, such as he had not felt during all his homeless days, +crept steadily over him; and as he walked along the busy street, with +his hands thrust drearily into his pockets, he forgot to whistle as was +his wont. + +Mr. Stephens was hastening home from his office with quick business +tread. He was just in front, and instinctively the boy quickened his +step to keep pace with the rapid one. Tode knew him well, had waited on +him at table when there came now and then a stormy day, and he sought +the hotel at the dining hour instead of his own handsome home. He halted +presently before a bookstore and went in. Tode lounged in after him. +Already the old careless feeling that he might as well do that as any +thing had begun to control him again. Mr. Stephens made his purchase, +gave a bill in payment and waited for his change, and from his open +pocket-book, all unknown to him, there fluttered a bit of paper, and +lodged at Tode's feet. Tode glanced quickly about him, nobody else saw +it. Mr. Stephens was already deep in conversation with an acquaintance, +and might have dropped a dozen bits of paper without knowing it. The +paper might be of value, and it might not. Tode composedly put his foot +over it, put his hands in his pockets, and stood still. Mr. Stephens +departed. There was a bit of brown paper on the floor. Tode stooped and +carefully picked that and the other crumpled bit up, and busied himself +apparently in wrapping something carefully up in the brown paper. Then +he waited again. Presently a clerk came toward him. + +"Well, sir, what will you have?" + +"Shoe-strings," answered Tode, gravely. + +"We don't keep them in a bookstore, my boy." + +"Oh, you don't. Then I may as well leave." And Tode vanished. + +"Who's the wiser for that, I'd like to know?" he asked himself aloud as +soon as the door was closed. Then he started for the hotel in high glee. +He stopped under a street lamp to discover what his treasure might be, +and behold, it was a ten dollar bill! Now indeed Tode was jubilant; a +grand addition that would make to his little hoard, and visions of all +sorts of wished for treasures danced through his brain. His spirits rose +with every step; he sung and whistled and danced by turns. Had this +strange boy then forgotten the errand which had taken him out that +evening? Not by any means. He went directly to the office as soon as he +reached the house and made known to Mr. Roberts his intention of leaving +him. He stood perfectly firm under Mr. Roberts' questioning persuasions +and rather tempting offers. He squarely and distinctly gave his reasons +for leaving, and endured with a good-natured smile the laugh and the +jeers that were raised at his expense. He endured as bravely as he could +whatever there was to endure for conscience' sake that evening, and +finally went up to his room triumphant--triumphant not only in that, but +also over the fact that he had successfully stolen a ten dollar bill. +Oh, Tode, Tode! And yet there was the teaching of all his life in favor +of that way of getting money, and he knew almost nothing against it. He +had only three leaves of a Bible; he had never heard the eighth +commandment in his life. He knew in a vague general way that it was +wrong, not perhaps to steal, but to be _found_ stealing. Just why he +could not have told, but he knew positively this much, that it +generally fared ill with a person who was caught in a theft, but his +ideas were very vague and misty; besides he did not by any means call +himself a thief. He had not gone after the money, it had come to him. He +was very much elated, and as he went about making ready for sleep he +discussed his plans aloud. + +"I'll go into business, just as sure as you live, I will. I'll keep a +hotel myself; I'll begin to-morrow; I'll have cakes and pies and +crackers and wine. Oh bless me, no, I can't have wine, but coffee. +_Jolly_, I can make tall coffee, I can, and that's what I'll have +_prezactly_. This ten dollar patch will buy a whole stock of goodies, +and I won't clerk it another day, _see_ if I do." + +By and by he quieted down, so that by the time his candle was blown out +and he was settled for the night, graver thoughts began to come. + +"'Tain't right to steal," he said aloud. "I know 'tain't right, 'cause a +fellow always feels mean and sneaking after it, and 'cause he's so awful +afraid of being found out. When I've done a nice decent thing, I don't +care whether I'm found out or not; but then I didn't steal. I didn't go +into his pocket-book, it blew down to me--no fault of mine; all I did +was just to pick a piece of paper off the floor, no harm in that. How +did _I_ know it was worth anything? What's the use of me thinking about +it anyhow? He'll never miss it in the world; he's rich--my! as rich as +the President." + +Tode turned uneasily on his pillow, shut his eyes very tight, and +pretended to himself that he was asleep. No use, they flew open again. +He began to grow indignant. + +"I hope I'll never have another ten dollars as long as I live, if it's +got to make all this fuss!" he said in a disgusted tone. "I wish I'd +never picked up his old rag--I don't like the feeling of it. I didn't +steal it, that's sure; but I've got it, and I wish I hadn't." + +"The eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the evil and the +good." That verse again, coming back to him with great force, beholding +the evil and the good. Which was this? Was it good? Tode's uneducated, +undisciplined conscience had to say nay to this. Well, then, was it +evil? + +"I feel mean," he said, reflectively. "As mean as a thief, pretty near. +I wouldn't like to have anybody know it. I wouldn't tell of it for +anything. S'pose I go down there to that prayer-meeting and tell it. +Would I do _it_? No, _sir_--'cause why? I'm ashamed of it. But then I +didn't _steal_ it; I didn't even know it was money. Oh bah! Tode Mall, +don't you try to pull wool over your own eyes that way. Didn't you +s'pose it was, and would you have took the trouble to get it if you +hadn't s'posed so? Come now. And then see here, I wouldn't have anybody +know about it; and after all there's them eyes that are in every place, +looking right at me. 'Tain't right, that is sure and certain. I didn't +steal it, but I've got it, and it ain't mine, and I oughtn't to have it. +I could have handed it back easy enough if I'd wanted to. So I don't see +but it looks about as mean as stealing, and feels about as mean, and +maybe after all it's pretty much the same thing. Now what be I going to +do?" + +And now he tumbled and tossed harder than ever. That same miserable fear +of those pure eyes began to creep over him again, accompanied by a +dreary sense of having lost something, some loving presence and +companionship on which he had leaned in the darkness. + +"I'll never do it again," he said at last, with solemn earnestness. "I +_never will_, not if I starve and freeze and choke to death. I'll let +old rags that blow to me alone after this, I will." + +Then, after a moment's silence, he clasped his hands together and said +with great earnestness: + +"O Lord Jesus, forgive me this once, and I'll never do it +again--never." + +After that he thought he could go to sleep but the heavy weight rested +still on his heart. He was not so much afraid of those solemn eyes as he +was sorry. An only half understood feeling of having hurt that one +friend of his came over him. + +"What be I going to do?" he said aloud and pitifully. "I _am_ sorry--I'm +sorry I did it, and I'll never do it again." + +Still the heavy weight did not lift. Presently he flounced out of bed, +and lighted his candle in haste. + +"I'll burn the mean old rag up, I will, so," he said with energy. "See +if I'm going to lie awake all night and bother about it. I ain't going +to use it, either. I don't believe I've got any right to, 'cause it +ain't mine." + +By this time the ten dollar bill was very near the candle flame. Then it +was suddenly drawn back, while a look of great perplexity appeared on +Tode's face. + +"If it ain't mine what right have I got to burn it up, I'd like to know? +I never did see such a fix in my life. I can't use it, and I can't burn +it, and the land knows I don't want to keep it. Whatever be I going to +do? I wish he had it back again; that's where it ought to be. What if I +should--well, now, there's no use talking; but s'pose I ought to, what +then?" + +And there stood the poor befogged boy, holding the doomed bill between +his thumb and finger, and staring gloomily at the flickering candle. At +last the look of indecision vanished, and he began rapid preparations +for a walk. + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THE STEPPING STONE. + + +Thus it was that Mr. Stephens, sitting in his private room running over +long rows of figures, was startled, somewhere near midnight, by a quick +ring of the door-bell. His household were quiet for the night, so he +went himself to answer the ring, and encountered Tode, who thrust a bit +of paper toward him, and spoke rapidly. + +"Here, Mr. Stephens, is your ten dollars. I didn't steal it, but it blew +to me, and I kept it till I found I couldn't, and then I brought it." + +"What is all this about?" asked bewildered Mr. Stephens. "Come in, my +boy, and tell me what is the matter." + +And presently Tode was seated in one of the great arm-chairs in Mr. +Stephens' private room. + +"Now, what is it, my lad, that has brought you to me at this hour of the +night?" questioned that gentleman. + +"Why, there's your money," said Tode, spreading out the ten dollar bill +on the table before them. "You dropped it, you see, in the bookstore, +and I picked it up. It blew to me, I didn't steal it, leastways I didn't +think I did; but I don't know but it's just about as bad. At any rate +I've brought it back, and there 'tis." + +"Why!" said Mr. Stephens, "is it _possible_ that I dropped a bill?" And +he drew forth his pocket-book for examination. "Yes, that's a fact. +Really, I deserve to lose it for my carelessness. And so you decided to +bring it back? Well, I'm glad of that; but how came you to do it?" + +"Oh," said Tode, "I couldn't sleep. The eyes of the Lord, you know, were +looking at me, and I tumbled about, and thought maybe it wasn't right, +and pretty soon I knew it wasn't, and then I asked the Lord Jesus to +forgive me, and I didn't feel much better; and then I got up and thought +I'd burn the mean thing up in the candle, and then I thought I musn't, +'cause it wasn't mine; and by that time I hated it, and didn't want it +to be mine; and then after awhile I thought I ought to bring it to you, +but I didn't want to, but I thought I ought to, and there 'tis." + +Mr. Stephens watched the glowing face of his visitor during this +recital, and said nothing. After he finished said nothing--only +suddenly at last: + +"Where do you live, my boy?" + +"I live at one of the hotels--no, I don't, I don't live no where. I did +till to-night, and to-night I sleep there, and after that I don't belong +nowhere." + +"Have you been employed in a hotel?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Why do you leave?" + +"'Cause I can't be putting bottles to my neighbors any longer. You know +what Habakkuk says about that, I suppose?" + +Tode was ignorant, you see. He made the strange mistake of supposing +that every educated man was familiar with the Bible. Again Mr. Stephens +said nothing. Presently, with a little tremble to his voice, he asked +another question: + +"Have you given yourself to the Lord Jesus, my boy?" + +"Yes, sir," Tode answered, simply. + +"That is good. Do you know I think you have pleased him to-night? You +have done what you could to right the wrong, and done it for his sake." + +And now Tode's eye shone with pleasure. After a moment's silence he +asked: + +"What are you going to do with me, sir?" + +"Do with you? I am going to be much obliged to you for returning my +property." + +"Yes, but I didn't do it straight off, and at first I meant to keep it." + +"Which was bad, decidedly, and I don't think you will do it again. Can +you write?" + +"Yes, sir," Tode answered him, proudly. + +"You may write your name on that card for me." + +Tode obeyed with alacrity, and wrote in capitals, because he had a dim +notion that capitals belonged especially to names: + +T O D E M A L L. + +"What are you going to do for a living after this?" further questioned +Mr. Stephens, thoughtfully fingering the ten dollar bill. + +"Going to keep a hotel of my own." + +"Oh, you are? In what part of the town?" + +"Don't know. Down by the depot somewhere, I reckon." + +Mr. Stephens folded the ten dollar bill and put it in his pocket. Tode +rose to go. + +"Now, my friend," said Mr. Stephens, "shall you and I kneel down and +thank the Lord Jesus for the care which he has had over you to-night, +and for the help which he has given you?" + +"Yes, sir," answered Tode, promptly, not having the remotest idea what +kneeling down meant, but he followed Mr. Stephens' movement, and was +commended to God in such a simple, earnest prayer that he had never +heard before. He went out from the house in a sober though happy mood. +He felt older and wiser than he did when he entered; he had heard a +prayer offered for him, and he had been told that the Lord Jesus was +pleased with his attempt to do right. Instead of going home he went +around by the depot, and bestowed searching glances on each building as +he passed by. Directly opposite the depot buildings there were two +rum-shops and an oyster-saloon. + +"This spot would do," said Tode, thoughtfully, halting in front of the +illest looking of the rum-shops. "If I can set up right here now, why +I'll do it." + +A very dismal, very forbidding spot it seemed to be, and why any person +should deliberately select it as a place for commencing business was a +mystery; but Tode had his own ideas on the subject, and seemed +satisfied. He looked about him. The night was dark save for street +lamps, and there were none reflecting just where he stood. There was a +revel going on down in the rum-cellar, but he was out of the range of +their lights; elsewhere it was quiet enough. It was quite midnight now, +and that end of the city was in comparative silence. + +What did Tode mean to do next? and why was he peering about so +stealthily to see if any human eye was on him? Surely with so recent a +lesson fresh in mind, he had not already forgotten the All-seeing Eye? +Was he going to offend it again? He waited until quite certain that no +one was observing him, then he went around to the side of an old barrel +and kneeled down, and clasped his hands together as Mr. Stephens had +done, and he said: "O Lord Jesus, if I come down here to live I'll try +to do right all around here, every time." Then he rose up and went home +to his room and his bed. He had been down in the midnight and selected +the spot for his next efforts, and consecrated it to the Lord. Another +thing, he had found out how people did when they talked with God. After +that Tode always knelt down to pray. + +It was not yet eight o'clock when Tode, his breakfast eaten, his bundle +packed, himself ready to migrate, sat down once more on the edge of that +bed, and began to calculate the state of his finances. He had been at +work in the hotel for his board and clothing; but then there had been +many errands on which he had run for those who had given him a dime, or, +now and then, a quarter, and his expenditures had been small; so now as +he counted the miscellaneous heap, he discovered himself to be the +honest owner of six dollars and seventy-eight cents. + +"That ain't so bad to start on," he told himself, complacently. "A +fellow who can't begin business on that capital, ain't much of a fellow. +I wonder now if ever I'll take a peak at this little room of mine again; +'tain't a bad room; I'll have one of my own just like it one of these +days. I'll have a square patch of carpet just that size, red and green +and yellow, like that, and I'll have a patchwork quilt like this one; +who'll make it for me though? Ho, I'll find somebody. I wonder who'll +sleep in this bed of mine after this? Jim won't, 'cause Jim sleeps with +his brother. I reckon it's fun to have a brother. Maybe there'll be some +fellow here that I can come and see now and then. Well, come Tode, you +and I must go, we must, there's business to be done." + +So the boy rose up, put away his money carefully, slung his bundle over +his shoulder, took a last, long, loving look at the familiar +surroundings, coughed once or twice, choked a little, rubbed his eyes +with the sleeve of his jacket, and went out from his only home. On the +stairs he encountered Jim. + +"Jim," said he, "I'm going now; if you only _wouldn't_, you know." + +"Wouldn't what?" + +"Give your neighbor drink." + +"Pooh!" said Jim, "_You're_ a goose; better come back and be decent." + +"Good-by," was Tode's answer, as he vanished around the corner. He went +directly to the spot opposite the depot, which he had selected the night +before, and descended at once to the cellar. + +"Want to rent that stone out down there, between your building and the +alley?" he questioned of the ill-looking man, who seemed to be in +attendance. + +"Um, well, no, I reckon not; guess you'd have a time of getting it +away." + +"Don't want to get it away; it's just in the right spot for me." + +"What, for the land's sake, do you mean to do?" + +"I mean to set up business right out there on that stone." + +This idea caused a general laugh among the loungers in the cellar; but +Tode stood gravely awaiting a decision. + +"What wares might you be going to keep, youngster?" at last queried one +of the red-nosed customers. + +"Cakes and coffee." + +"Oh, ho!" exclaimed the proprietor, eyeing him keenly. "And whisky, too, +I wouldn't be afraid to bet." + +"Not a bit of it; you keep enough of that stuff for you and me, too." + +"And where might you be going to make your coffee?" + +"I ain't going to make it until I get a place to put it," was Tode's +brief reply. + +"Do you want to rent that stone, or not, that's the question? and the +quicker you tell me, the quicker I'll know." + +"Well, how much will you pay for it?" + +"Just as little as I can get it for." This caused another laugh from the +listeners. + +"You're a cute one," complimented the owner. "Well, now, seeing it's +you, you can have it on trial for two dollars a week, I reckon." + +"I reckon it will be after this when I do," said Tode, turning on his +heel. + +"Hold up. What's the matter? Don't the terms suit? Why that's _very_ +reasonable!" + +"All right. Then rent it to the first chap who'll take it for two +dollars; but _I_ ain't acquainted with him." + +"How much _will_ you give then?" + +"How much will you take?" + +"Well, now, I like to help the young, so I'll take a dollar a week." + +"Not from me," said Tode, promptly. + +"Do hear the fellow! As generous as I've been to him, too. Well, come, +now, its your turn to make an offer." + +"I'll give you fifty cents a week, and pay you every Saturday night at +seven o'clock." + +"It's a bargain," exclaimed the man, striking his hand down on the +counter, till the dirty glasses jingled. There was a further attempt to +discover the intention of the new firm, but Tode made his escape the +moment the bargain was concluded, and went off vigorously to work to get +the old barrel out of his premises. Then he departed, and presently made +his appearance again with an old dry-goods box, which he brought on a +wheelbarrow, and deposited squarely on the stone. Off again, and back +with boards, hammer and nails. And then ensued a vigorous pounding, +which, when it was finished, was productive of three neat fitting +shelves inside the dry-goods box. + +"Jolly," he said, eyeing his work triumphantly and his fingers ruefully, +"I'm glad I own a hotel instead of a carpenter's shop. I wonder now +which I did pound the oftenest, them nails or my thumb? Ain't my shelves +some though? So much got along with; now for my next move. I wonder +where the old lady lives what's going to lend her stove for my coffee? +Must be somewhere along here, because I couldn't go far away from my +place of business after it, specially if all my waiters should happen +to be out when the rush comes. I may as well start off and hunt her up." + +Just next to the oyster-saloon was a little old yellow house. Thither +Tode bent his steps, and knocked boldly at the door. No reply. + +"Not at home," he said, shaking his head as he peeped in at the +curtainless window. "No use of talking about you then. _You_ won't do, +'cause you see my old lady must be at home. I can't be having her run +off just at the busiest time." + +There were two doors very near together, and our young adventurer tried +the next one. It was quickly opened, and a very slatternly young woman +appeared to him with a baby in her arms, and three almost babies hanging +to various portions of her dress. + +"Does Mr. Smith live here?" queried Tode. + +The woman shook her head and slammed the door. + +"That's lucky now," soliloquized Tode; "because he _does_ live most +everywhere, and I don't want to see him just about now--fact is, it +would never do to have them nine babies tumbling into my coffee and +getting scalded." + +He trudged back to a little weather-worn, tumble-down building on the +other side of his new enterprise, and knocked. Such a dear little old +fat woman in a bright calico dress, and with a wide white frill to her +cap, answered his knock. He chuckled inwardly, and said at once: "I +guess you're the woman what's going to let me boil my coffee on your +stove, and warm a pie now and then, ain't you?" + +"Whatever is the lad talking about?" asked the bewildered old lady. + +"Why--" said Tode, conscious that he had made a very unbusiness-like +opening, and he begun at the beginning, and told her his story. + +"Well now, I never!" said the woman, sinking into a chair. "No, I never +did in all my life! And so you left that there place, because you wasn't +going to give bottles to your neighbors no longer, and now you're going +into business for yourself? Well, well, the land knows I wish there +wasn't no bottles to put to 'em--and then they wouldn't be put, you +know; and if there's anything I _do_ pray for with all my might and +main, next to prayin' that my two boys would let the bottles +alone--which I'm afraid they don't, and more's the pity--it's that the +bottles will all get clean smashed up one of these days, in His own good +time you know." + +Tode turned upon her an eager, questioning look. + +"Who do you pray to?" he asked, abruptly. + +"Why, bless the boy! I ain't a heathen, you know, to bow down to wood +and stone, the work of men's hands, and them things as it were. I pray +to the dear Lord that made me, and died for me too, and, for the matter +of that, lives for me all the time." + +A bright color glowed in Tode's cheek, and a bright fire sparkled in his +eye. + +"I know him," he said, briefly and earnestly. + +"Now, do you, though?" said the little old lady, as eager and earnest as +himself, "and do you pray to him?" + +Tode gravely bowed his head. + +"Then I'll let you have my stove and my coffee-pot, and my oven, and +welcome, and I'll look after the coffee and the pies now and then +myself. I'll give you a lift as sure as I have a coffee-pot to lend. +Like enough you're one of the Lord's own, and have been sent right +straight here for me to give a cup of cold water to, you know, or to +look after your coffee for you, and it's all the same, you know, so you +do it in the name of a disciple." + +Will Tode ever forget the feeling of solemn joy with which he finally +turned away from the dear little old lady's door? He had really talked +with one of those who knew the Lord, and he was to see her every day, +two or three times a day, and perhaps she knew things that he did not; +about Habakkuk--like enough. "She knew about that bottle business as +well as I did," he said gleefully, as he flew back to his dry-goods box. +Such delightful arrangements as he made with her, too!--elegant cakes +she was to make him, better than any that could be bought at the baker's +he was sure, though he had called there on his way for the dry-goods +box, and made what he considered a very fine bargain with him. +Altogether it was a very busy day; he had never flown around more +industriously at the hotel than he did on this first day of business for +himself. He dined on crackers and cheese, and missed, as little as he +could help, the grand dinner which would have been sure to fall to his +share at his old quarters, and which he hardly understood that he had +given up for conscience' sake. "There now," he said, with a final +chuckle of satisfaction, just as the twilight was beginning to fall, +"I'm fixed all snug and fine--by to-morrow morning, bright and early, +I'll be ready for business!" Then suddenly he dived his hands into his +pockets, and gave a low, long, perplexed whistle--then gave vent to his +new idea in words: + +"Where in the name of all that's funny and ridiculous, be I going to +spend the time 'tween this and to-morrow morning? Just as true as +you're alive and hearty, Tode Mall, I never once thought of that idea +till this blessed minute--did you? + +"Whatever is to be did! I've slept, to be sure, in lots of places, on +the steps, and in barrels, and I ain't no ways discomflusticated; but +then, you see, after a fellow has slept on a bed for a spell, why, he +has a kind of a hankering _after_ a bed to sleep on some more. Hold on, +though! why don't I board? That's the way men do when they go into +business. Tode, you're green, _very_ green, I'm afraid, not to think of +that before. Course I'll board! I'll go right straight down to the old +lady, and order rooms." + +But the old lady shook her head, and looked troubled. "You see," said +she, "I ain't got but one bed for spare, and I've got a boy. I've got +two of 'em; but they don't sleep at home, only my youngest; he comes a +visiting sometimes, and if he should come and find a stranger sleeping +in his bed, why, he'd feel kind of homesick, I'm afraid, and I want Jim +to feel that this is the best home that ever was, I do." + +Tode bestowed a very searching look on the earnest little old woman in +answer to this, and then spoke rapidly: + +"I shouldn't wonder one bit if you was our Jim's mother down at the +Euclid House--that's where I lived, and that's where he lives, only he +don't sleep there--he sleeps with his brother Rick, down at the livery +stable. Now, ain't they your two boys?" + +"They are so!" the old lady answered, speaking as eagerly as he had +done. + +"And so you know them! Well, now, _don't_ things work around queer?" +Then she shut the door and locked it, and came over to Tode so close +that her cap frills almost touched his curly head, before she whispered +her next sentence: + +"Now, I know you will tell me just the truth. Do them two boys of mine +touch the bottles for themselves?" + +How gently and pitifully Tode answered the poor mother! "I guess they +do, a little--all the fellows do, except just me--they don't think it's +any harm." + +"I knew it, I knew it!" she said, pitifully. "Their father would, and +_they_ will." + +Then, after a moment, she rallied. + +"But I don't give up hope for 'em, not a bit, and I ain't going to so +long as I can pray for 'em. Now I'll tell you what we'll do. The Lord +has sent you to help me, I do guess--I asked him if I couldn't have +somebody just to give me a lift with them. You'll have Jim's room, and +when he comes you'll be just nice and comfortable together, seeing you +know each other. Rick, he never comes home for all night, 'cause he +can't get away. And then you'll help me keep an eye on Jim, and say a +word to him now and then when you can, and pray for him every single +day--will you now?" + +So when the night closed in, Tode's bundle was unpacked, and his clothes +hung on Jim's nails, and once again he had a home. + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +TODE'S REAL ESTATE. + + +By next evening business had fairly commenced. The first day's sales +were encouraging in the extreme, the more so that Tode had rescued two +boys from the vortex on his left, and persuaded them into taking a cup +of his excellent coffee instead of something stronger. Among the +accomplishments that he acquired at the Euclid House was the art of +making delicious coffee, an art which bid fair to do him good service +now. He set a very inviting looking table. A very coarse, but +delightfully clean white cloth, hid the roughness and imperfections of +the dry-goods box; and his stock of crockery, consisting of three cups +and saucers, three large plates, and three pie plates, purchased at the +auction rooms, were disposed of with all the skill which his native tact +and his apprenticeship at the Euclid House had taught him. After mature +deliberation he had bargained for and rolled back the barrel, made it +stationary with the help of a nail or two, and mounting it was ready for +customers. He had them, too--one especially, whose appearance filled him +with great satisfaction. With the incoming of the four o'clock train Mr. +Stephens appeared, stopped in surprise on seeing his new acquaintance, +asked numerous questions, and finally remarked that he had been gone all +day, and might as well take his lunch there and go directly to the +store. So Tode had the very great pleasure of seeing him drink two cups +of his coffee, eat three of his cakes, and lay down fifty cents in +payment thereof. Never was there a more satisfied boy than he, when at +dusk he packed his cakes into a basket procured for the purpose, covered +them carefully with the table-cloth, tucked the coffee-pot in at one +end, and marched whistling away toward home. He had been gone since +quite early in the morning, had procured his own breakfast and dinner, +according to previous arrangement, but was going home to tea. + +It is doubtful if there will ever anything look nicer to Tode than did +that little clean room, and that little square table, with its bit of a +white patched table-cloth, and its three plates and three knives, and +its loaf of bread, and its very little lump of butter; a little black +teakettle puffed and steamed its welcome, and a very funny little old +brown ware teapot stood waiting on the hearth. There was that in this +poor homeless boy's nature that took this picture in, and he felt it to +his very heart. It was better a hundred times than the glitter and +grandeur of the Euclid House, for didn't he know perfectly well that the +little brown teapot on the hearth was waiting for _him_, and had +anything ever waited for _him_ before? + +"Now we are all ready," chirped the old lady, cheerily, as Tode set down +his basket and took off his cap. "Come Winny," and straightway there +appeared from the little room of the kitchen a new character in this +story of Tode's life, one whom the boy had never heard of before, and at +whom he stared as startled as if she had suddenly blown up to them, +fairy-like, from out the wide mouth of the black teakettle. + +"This is my Winny," explained she of the frill cap. "This is Jim's and +Rick's sister. Dear me! I don't believe I ever thought to tell you they +had a sister. She was to school when you was bobbing back and forth +yesterday and to-day, and she was to bed when you came home last night." + +"Well she's here now," interrupted Winny. "Ready to be looked at, which +she's likely to be, I should think. Let's have tea." + +Tode had been very uncertain as to whether he liked this new revelation +of the family; but one word in the mother's sentence smoothed his face, +and he sat down opposite the great gray eyes of the grave, +self-possessed looking Winny with a satisfied air. + +"Now," said the mother, looking kindly on him, "I've always asked a +blessing myself at my table, because Jim and Rick they don't neither of +'em lean that way, but if you would do it I think it would be all right +and nice." + +Tode looked bewildered a moment; then adopted the very wise and +straightforward course of saying: + +"I don't know what 'asking a blessing' means." + +"Don't you, now? Why it's to say a little prayer to God before you +eat--just to thank him, you know." + +A little gleam of satisfaction shone in Tode's eyes. + +"Do good people do that?" he asked. + +"Why, yes--all the folks I ever lived with when I was a girl. Deacon +Small's family, and Esquire Edward's family, and all, used to." + +"Every time they eat?" + +"Every single time." + +"That's _nice_," said Tode, heartily. Whereat the gray eyes opposite +looked wonderingly at him. "I like that. Now, what do they say?" + +"Oh they just pray a little simple word--just to say thank you to the +Lord, you know." + +"And do you want me to do it?" + +"Well, I think it would be nice and proper like, if you felt like it." + +Reverently Tode closed his eyes, and reverently and simply did he offer +his thanksgiving. + +"O Lord, we thank you for this bread and butter and tea." + +Then he commenced at once on the subject of his thoughts. Conversation +addressed to Winny. + +"Do you go to school?" + +"Yes." + +"What kind of a place is school?" + +"Nice enough place if you want to learn, stupid if you don't." + +"Do you want to learn?" + +"Some." + +"Well, what do you learn?" + +"Reading, spelling, writing, geography, arithmetic, and grammar." + +"My! What are _all_ them things?" + +"Don't you know what reading is?" + +"Yes, I know them first three; but what's the long words?" + +"Well, geography is about the earth." + +"Earth? What do you mean, dirt?" + +"Some--and some water, and some hills, and rivers, and cities, and +mountains." + +"But you can see all them things." + +"Well, it tells you more than you can see." + +"And what's t'other?" + +"Arithmetic is about figures. What are you asking me so many questions +for?--didn't you ever go to school?" + +"Never did in all my life, not an hour. Now go on about the figures." + +"Well, all about them--how to add and multiply, and subtract and divide, +and fractions." + +"Never heard of one of 'em," said Tode, with a little sigh. "What be +they all for?" + +"Why so you can buy things and sell them, and keep accounts, and +everything." + +"Then I ought to know 'em, 'cause that's what I'm doing. Do you know +'em?" + +"I'm studying arithmetic, and I'm as far as fractions." + +"Will you show 'em to me?" + +"Mother," said Winny, turning despairing eyes on the attentive old lady, +"he's such a funny boy. I don't know what to make of him." + +"He wants to study and learn, deary, don't you see?" + +"I think that's just as nice as can be," she added, turning to Tode. +"Winny, she's a great scholar, keeps to the head of her class all the +time, most, and she studies evenings, and you could get out your book, +and she would show you all about things, couldn't you, deary?" + +"I don't care," said Winny, listlessly. "Yes, I might if he wants to +learn, and if he won't bother me too much." + +Tode's cheeks were all aglow. He had awakened lately to the fact that +there was a great deal in this world that he didn't understand, that he +wanted to know about; and without a doubt but that this wise-eyed girl +knew it all, and that he should learn it all, and that he should learn +it from her in a little while. He went to work with alacrity. +Examination came first--that is, it came after the dishes were washed. +Then Tode displayed his reading powers, which really _were_ remarkable +when one considered that he could hardly tell himself how he happened to +learn, but which sank into insignificance by the side of Winny's +clear-toned, correct, careful reading. Tode listened in amazement and +delight. + +"That sounds just like mine," he said at last, drawing in his breath as +she finished. + +In return for which graceful compliment, which had the merit of being an +unconscious one, Winny condescended to compliment him on the manner in +which his letters, large and small, were gotten up. + +"They ought to be nice," Tode explained, "the way I worked at 'em! It +took me a week off and on, to make that K crook in and out, and up and +down, as it ought to. Dora Hastings, she told me about 'em, and made the +patterns. You don't know Dora Hastings, do you?" + +"No, I never heard of her; but these are not patterns, they are copies; +and there is no such word as ''em,' which you keep using so much. Our +teachers told us so to-day." + +"What's the reason there isn't?" + +"Well, because there _isn't_; it's '_them_' and not ''em' at all. And +you use a great many words that they wouldn't allow you to if you went +to school." + +"Well then," said Tode, with unfailing good nature, "don't _you_ let me +say 'em then--no, I mean '_them_.' You're the school misses, and I'm +your school. Go on about the other things." + +It was a busy evening. Arithmetic, except so much as had been required +to count his small income, proved to be a sealed book to Tode; but the +energy with which he began at the beginning, and tried to learn every +word in it, was quite soothing to the heart of the young teacher. + +The little mother sat at the end of the table, and sewed industriously +on the clothes that she had washed and ironed during the day; but when a +queer little old clock in the corner struck nine, she bit off her thread +and fastened her needle on the yellow cushion, and interrupted the +students. + +"Now, deary, let's put away our work. You've made a first-rate +beginning, but it's time now to read your piece of a chapter, and then +we'll have a word of prayer and get to our beds, so we can all be up +bright and early in the morning." + +Tode closed his book promptly, and looked on with eager satisfaction +while Winny produced an old worn, much-used Bible--a whole Bible! and +composedly turned over its pages with the air of one who was quite +accustomed to handle the wonderful book. + +"Where shall I read to-night, mother?" she asked. + +"Well, deary, suppose you read what John says about the many mansions +that they're getting ready for us." + +"John didn't say it, mother," answered Winny, gravely. "Jesus said it +himself." + +"Yes, deary, but John heard him say it, and wrote it down for us." + +So Tode listened, and heard for the first time in his life these blessed +words: + +"Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. +In my Father's house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have +told. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place +for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I +am, there ye may be also." + +Thus on, through the beautiful verses, until this: + +"And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do." + +"There, deary," said Winny's mother, "that will do. I want to stop there +and think about it. Whenever I get more than usual trouble in my heart +about Rick and Jim, I want to hear this chapter down to there, +'_Whatsoever_ ye shall ask,' and it gives me a lift, like, and then I +pray away." + +Could you imagine how you should feel if you had learned to love the +Lord, and were as old as Tode was, and then should hear those words for +the first time? + +The tears were following each other down his cheeks, and dropping on his +hand. + +"Who does he mean?" he asked, eagerly. "Whose mansions be they that he's +getting ready?" + +"Why, bless you, one of them is mine, and there'll be one ready for +everybody who loves _him_." + +Tode's voice sank to a husky whisper. + +"Do you think there's one getting ready for me?" + +"There's no kind of doubt about it, not if you love the Lord Jesus. I +suppose as soon as ever you made up your mind to love him the Lord said, +'Now I must get a place ready for Tode, for he's decided that he wants +to come up here with me.'" + +Wiser brains than Tode's would doubtless have smiled at the old lady's +original and perhaps untheological way of interpreting the truth; but he +drank it in, and drew nearer to the true meaning of it than perhaps he +would had it been learnedly explained. + +"I never thought about it before in my life," he said, gravely. "And so +that's heaven? And there ain't any trouble there I heard Mr. Birge say +once in his preaching." + +"Not a speck of trouble of any shape nor kind, nor nobody's wicked nor +cross, and no bottles there, Tode, not a bottle." + +"How do you know?" + +"'Cause it says so right out, sharp and plain. 'No drunkard shall +inherit the kingdom of heaven.' That's Bible words, and you and I know +that where there's bottles, and folks give them to their neighbors, why +there'll be drunkards." + +Tode nodded his head in solemn assent. Yes, he knew that better perhaps +than his teacher. Then he asked: + +"And what more about heaven?" + +"Oh deary me! there's verses and verses about streets of gold, and +harps, and thrones, and singing. Oh my! _such_ singing as you never +dreamed about, and we to be the singers, you know; and I couldn't begin +to tell you about it all; and _you_ never heard any of them verses? Well +now, I _am_ beat. Well I always pick 'em all out and read 'em Sunday. I +like to make Sunday a kind of a holiday, you know, so I read 'em and +study 'em, and try to picture it all out; but then you see I can't, +because the Bible says that eyes haven't seen nor ears heard, and we +can't _begin_ to guess at the fine things prepared for us." + +"Well now," broke in Tode, his lips hurrying to tell the thought that +had been filling his mind for some minutes, "why don't everybody go +there? I heard about that awful place where some folks go. Mr. Birge +told about it in some of his preaching. Now what's that for? Why don't +they all go to heaven?" + +The little old lady heaved a deep sigh. + +"Sure enough, why don't they?" she said at last. "And the curious part +of it is, that it's just because they _won't_. They don't have to pay +for it; they don't have to go away off after it; they don't have to die +for it, because they've got to die anyhow; and they know it's dreadful +to die all alone; and they know that every single thing that the Lord +Jesus wants of them is to love him, and give him a chance to help +them--and the long and short of it is, they _won't do it_." + +"That's _awful_ silly," ejaculated Tode. + +"Silly! Why, there ain't anything else in all this big world that +anywhere near comes up to it for silliness. Why, don't you think," and +here her voice took a lower and more solemn tone, and the wide cap frill +trembled with earnestness. "_Don't_ you think, there's men and women who +believe that every word in that Bible over there is true, and they know +there's such a verse as that we just heard, 'Whatsoever ye shall ask in +my name that _will_ I do;' and there's tired folks who know the Bible +says, 'Come unto me all ye that are weary, and I _will_ give you rest;' +and there's folks full of trouble who know it says, 'Cast thy burden on +the Lord, and he _will_ sustain thee;' and there's folks chasing up and +down the world after a good time who know it says, 'In thy presence is +fullness of joy,' and 'At thy right hand there are pleasures for +evermore;' and there's folks working night and day to be rich who know +it says, 'I am the true riches,' and, 'The silver and the gold are his,' +and just as true as you live they won't kneel down and _ask_ him for +any of these things! Now _ain't_ that curious?" + +"I should think he'd get kind of out of patience with them all," Tode +answered, earnestly, "and say, 'Let 'em go, then, if they're determined +to.'" + +The old lady shook her head emphatically. + +"No, he loves them you see. Do you suppose if my Winny and my boys +should go wrong, and not mind a word I say, I could give 'em up and say, +'Let them go then?' No indeed! I'd stick to 'em till the very last +minute, and I'd coax 'em, and pray over 'em day and night--and _my +love_, why it's _just_ nothing by the side of his. Why he says himself +that his love is greater than the love of a woman; so you see he sticks +to 'em all, and wants every one of them." + +Tode resolved this thought in his mind for a little, then gave vent to +his new idea. + +"Then I should think folks ought to be coaxing 'em, folks that love +_him_, I mean. If he loves all the people and wants them, and is trying +to get them, why then I should think all his folks ought to be trying, +too." + +"That's it!" said the old lady, eagerly. "That's it exactly. He tells us +so in the Bible time and time again. 'Let him that heareth say come.' +Now you and me have heard, and according to that it's our business to +go right to work, and say 'come' the very first time we get a chance. +But, deary me! I do believe in my heart that's half the trouble, folks +won't do it; his own folks, too, that have heard, and have got one of +the mansions waiting for 'em. He's given them all work to do helping to +fill the others, and half the time they let it go, and tend to their own +work, and leave him to do the coaxing all alone." + +"Mother," interrupted Winny, impatiently drumming on the corner of the +Bible, "I thought you said it was bedtime. I could have learned two +grammar lessons in this time." + +The mother gave a gentle little sigh. + +"Well, deary, so it is," she said. "We'll just have a word of prayer, +and then we'll go." + +Tode in his little room took his favorite position, a seat on the side +of the bed, and lost himself in thought. Great strides the boy had taken +in knowledge since tea time. Wonderful truths had been revealed to him. +Some faint idea of the wickedness of this world began to dawn upon him. +All his life hitherto had been spent in the depths, and it would seem +that if he were acquainted with anything it must be with wickedness, yet +a new revelation of it had come to him. "Ye _will_ not come unto me, +that ye might have life." He did not know that there was such a verse +in the Bible; but now he knew the fact, and it gave this boy, who had +come out of a cellar rum-hole, and had mingled during his entire life +with just such people as swarm around cellar rum-holes, a more distinct +idea of the total depravity of this world than he had ever dreamed of +before. It gave him a solemn old feeling. He felt less like whistling +and more like going very eagerly to work than he ever had before. + +"There's work to do," he said to himself. "He's got a mansion ready for +me it seems. I won't ever want other folk's nice homes any more as long +as I live, 'cause it seems I've got a grander one after all than they +can even think of; but then there's other mansions, and he wants people +to come and fill them, and he let's us help." Then his voice took a more +joyful ring, like that of a strong brave boy ready for work. "There's +work to do, plenty of it, and I'll help--I'll help fill _some_ of them." + +"The poor homeless boy," said the warm-hearted little mother down +stairs. "Deary me, my heart does just go out to him. And to think that +he owns one of them mansions, and never knew it! Well, now, he shan't +ever want for a home feeling on this earth if I can help it. I do +believe he's one of the Lord's own, and we must feel honored, Winny +dear, because we're called to help him. Don't you think he's a good +warm-hearted boy, deary?" + +"Oh yes," Winny said, indifferently. "But, mother, he does use such +shocking grammar." + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +SIGNS AND WONDERS. + + +Tode bustled into the house half an hour earlier than usual. Before him +he carried a great sheet of pasteboard. + +"Where's Winny?" he asked, sitting down on the nearest chair, out of +breath with his haste. "I've got an idea, and she must help me put it on +here." + +"Winny's gone to the store, deary, for some tea. Whatever brought you +home so early? Isn't business brisk to-day?" + +"It was until it came on to rain, and I had to put things under cover, +and then I had my idea, and I thought I'd run right home and tend to +it." + +The door opened and Winny came in, tugging her big umbrella. Instinct, +it could not have been education, prompted Tode to take the dripping +thing from her and put it away. + +"What on earth is that?" Winny said, pausing in the act of taking off +her things to examine the pasteboard. + +"That's my sign--leastways it will be when your wits and my wits are put +together to make it. I got some colored chalk round the corner at the +painters, and he showed me how to use 'em." + +"Tode, you said you would remember not to use ''em' and 'leastways' any +more." + +"So I will one of these days. I keep remembering all the time. Say, +won't that make a elegant sign? I never thought of a sign in my life +till Pliny Hastings he came along to-day. Did you ever see Pliny +Hastings?" + +"No. Tode, I _do wish_ you would begin to study grammar this very +evening. You're enough to kill any body the way you talk." + +"Oh bother the grammar, I'm telling you about Pliny Hastings. He came +along, and says he, 'Halloo, Tode, here you are as large as life in +business for yourself. You ought to have a sign,' says he. 'What's your +establishment called?' And you may think I felt cheap as long as I lived +at the Euclid house, to have no kind of a name for my place. I thought +then I'd have a name and a sign before this time to-morrow. So when I +went for my dinner I bought this pasteboard, and I been studying the +thing out all this afternoon between the spells of arithmetic, and I've +got it all fixed now, and I've got another idea come of that I never see +how one thing starts another. There's going to come a piece of +pasteboard off this end, 'cause you see it's too long, and I'm going to +have a circle out of that." + +"A circle. What for?" + +"Oh you'll see when we get to it. But now don't you want to know what my +sign is?" + +"I suppose I'll have to know if I'm to help you, whether I want to or +not." + +"Well, I had to study on that for quite a spell. You see I want a name +for my house, and then my own name right under it, 'cause I like to see +a man stand by his business, name and all; and then I want every body to +know I stand up for temperance. I thought of 'Cold Water House,' but +then you see it _ain't_ a cold water house, cause coffee is my principal +dish. Then I thought of 'Coffee House,' but there's a coffee house not +more than two blocks away from my place, and they keep plenty of whisky +there, and _that_ wouldn't do. And I thought and _thought_, and by and +by it came to me. I wouldn't have no 'House' at all about it, 'cause +after all is said and done it's just a _box_; and I concluded to have a +out-and-out temperance sign. I'll print a great big NO, so big you can +see it across the street, and then we'll make two great big black +bottles, like they keep rum in, standing by the 'No.' And then, says +_I_, everybody will know where to find _me_ on _that_ question." + +Even grave Winny laughed over this queer idea. + +"I can't make bottles any more than I can fly away," she said at last +"And neither can you." + +"I shan't say that till I've tried it about a month, _anyhow_," Tode +answered, positively. "I never _did_ like to give up a thing before I +began it." + +The white cap frill nodded violently over this sentiment + +"That's the way to talk," said the little mother. "There's more giving +up of good things before they're begun than there ever is afterward, I +do believe." + +_Such_ an evening as they had! Winny, in spite of her discouraging +words, entered into the work with considerable heartiness; and the slate +first, and afterward pieces of brown paper covered over with grotesque +images of black bottles, looking most of them, it must be confessed, +like anything else in the world. Finally the sympathetic mother came to +the rescue. She mounted a high chair to reach the topmost shelf in her +little den of a pantry, where were congregated the few bottles that had +ensued from a quarter of a century of housekeeping. One after another +was taken down and anxiously examined, until at last, oh joyful +discovery! the label of one showed the picture of an unmistakable +bottle, over which a picture of the inventor of the bitters which it was +supposed to contain was fondly leaning, as if it were his staff of life. +The young artists greeted it with delight, and with it for a model +produced such delightful results that by half-past eight the sign shone +out in blue and black and red chalks. + +"Now for my circle," said Tode, seizing upon the piece of pasteboard +which had been cut off. A large plate from the pantry did duty in the +absence of sufficient geometrical knowledge, and the circle was quickly +produced. Then did Tode's skill at making figures shine forth. In the +bright red chalks did he quickly produce a circle of the nine figures +around his pasteboard circle. + +"Now what is all that for, I _should_ like to know?" Winny asked, +looking on half interestedly, half contemptuously. + +"I'm just going to show you. You see, the lesson you gave me to-day is +the addition table, and that addition table is a tough, ugly job, I can +tell you. Well, I pelted away at it till dinner time, and I guess by +that time I knew almost as much as I did before I begun it; and I went +to Jones' after my dinner, and Mr. Jones he wanted me to take a note for +him to a man at the bank, just around the corner from there, you know. +Well I went, and the man I took the note to was busy counting money. He +wouldn't look at me, but just counted away like lightning. I never see +anything like it in my life, the way he did fly off them bills. It +wasn't a quarter of a minute when he said to a man who stood waiting, +'Nine hundred and seventy-eight dollars, sir. All right.' Now just think +of counting such a pile of money as that in about the time it would take +me to count seventy-eight cents? Well, I come back, and I pitched into +the addition table harder than ever, because, I thinks to myself, +there's no telling but that I may have some money to count one of these +days, and I guess I'll get ready to count it. But it was tough work. All +at once, while I was looking at my pasteboard, and wondering what I +should do with this end, it came to me. Now I'll explain. You see them +nine figures around there? Well, thinks I, now there ain't but nine +figures in this world, 'cause Pliny Hastings he told me that once, and +I've noticed it lots of times since, that you may talk about just as +many things as you're a mind to, and you'll just be using them same nine +figures over and over again, with a nothing thrown in now and then, you +know. Now, then, s'pose I begin at this one, and I say, 'one and two is +three, and three is six, and four is ten.'" + +"For pity's sake say 'are ten,'" interposed Winny. + +"Why?" + +"Because it's right. Go on." + +"Well, now, I could remember just as quick again if you'd give a fellow +a reason for it. Well, and four are ten, and so all around to the nine. +Well, I say that, and say it, and _say it_, till it goes itself, and +then I begin at two, and say two and three is--no, _are_ five, and on +round to the nine, only this time I take in the one at the other end. +Understand? Well, after I've learned that I begin with the three, and go +around to the two, and so on with them all; and then I mix them up and +say them every which way, and after I've put them a few different ways, +let's see you give me a line of figures that I can't add!" + +"That is so," said Winny, at last, speaking slowly and admiringly. "It +is a very good way indeed. Tode, I shouldn't wonder if you would know a +great deal after awhile." + +"Well now," answered Tode, gleefully, "I call this a pretty good +evening's work, painted a sign and made a new arithmetic, enough sight +easier than the other, so far as it goes; and you've helped me, so now +I'll help you, turn about is fair play. Bring out your grammar, and +let's see what it looks like, and to-morrow I'll go into the second-hand +bookstore and hunt one up. Then I'll pitch in and learn everything I +come to." + +He was true to his word, and thereafter grammar was added to the +numerous studies to which he gave all his leisure time. Perhaps no motto +could have been given Tode that would have helped him so much in this +matter of study as did the one which he had overheard and adopted for +his own: "Learn everything I possibly can about everything that can be +learned." He was obeying its instructions to the very letter. + +Sunday morning dawned brightly upon him. The first Sunday in his new +business. The air was balmy with the breath of spring. + +"Oh, oh," said Tode, drawing long breaths and inhaling the perfume of +swelling buds and springing blades, "I just wish I could go to church +to-day, I do. Wouldn't it be nice now to put on my clean shirt, and make +myself look nice and spry, and step around there to Mr. Birge's church +and hear another preach? I'd like that first-rate; but now there's no +use in talking. 'Do everything exactly in its time,' that's one of my +rules, and I'm bound to live up to them; and it's time now for me to go +to my business. I'll go to church this evening, I will. I ought to be +glad that folks don't want coffee and cakes much of evening, instead of +grumbling about having to give 'em some this morning." + +Now it so happened, in the multiplicity of things which the new +acquaintances had to talk over, that Sunday and church-going had not +been discussed; and owing to the fact that Tode did not breakfast with +the family, no knowledge of his intentions came to them, and no +knowledge of that old command, "Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it +holy," came to him. True, he knew that stores and shops were closed +quite generally on the Sabbath, but hotels were not, the Euclid House +had never been, and Tode, without reasoning about it at all, had imbibed +the idea that it was because they kept things to eat and drink. Now +these were the very things which he kept, and people must eat and drink +on Sundays as well as on any other days, so of course it was his duty to +supply them. + +So he put a clean white cloth on the dry-goods box in honor of this new +bright day, arranged everything in the most tempting manner possible, +and waited for customers. They came thick and fast. The Sabbath proved +fair to be as busy a day at the dry-goods box as it used to be at the +Euclid House. One disappointment Tode had. When he trudged down to the +little house to have his great empty coffee-pot replenished, it was +closed and locked. + +"Course," he said, nodding approvingly, "they've gone to church. I might +a known they wouldn't wash and iron and go to school Sunday. I ought to +remembered and took away my coffee. Well, never mind, I'll just run +around to the Coffee House and get my dish filled, and that will make it +all right." + +So many customers came just at tea time that he found it impossible to +go home to tea, but took a cup of his own coffee and a few of his cakes, +and chuckled meantime over the fact that he was the only individual who +could take his supper from that dry-goods box without paying for it. + +It was just as the bells were ringing for evening service that he +joyfully packed his nearly emptied dishes into the basket, shook the +crumbs from his little table-cloth, folded it carefully, and rejoiced +over the thought that he had done an excellent day's work, and could +afford to go to church. The brown house was closed again, so he left his +basket under a woodpile in the alley-way, and made all possible speed +for Mr. Birge's church. Even then the opening services were nearly +concluded, but he was in time for the Bible text, and that text Tode +never forgot in his life. The words were, "Remember the Sabbath day, to +keep it holy." + +I can not describe to you the poor boy's bewildered astonishment as he +listened and thought, and gradually began to take in something of the +true meaning of those earnest words. Mr. Birge was very decided in his +opinions, very plain in his utterances. Milk wagons, ice wagons, meat +wagons, and the whole long catalogue of Sabbath-breaking wagons, to say +nothing of row-boats and steamboats, and trains of cars, were dwelt upon +with unsparing tongue--nay, he went farther than that, and expressed his +unmistakable opinion of Sabbath-breaking ice-cream saloons and coffee +saloons; then down to the little apple children, and candy children, and +shoestring children, who haunt the Sabbath streets. Tode listened, and +ran his fingers through his hair in perplexity. + +"It must come in _somewhere_," he said to himself in some bewilderment. +"I don't quite keep a coffee house, and I don't--why, yes I do, sell +apples every now and then; and as to that, I suppose I keep a coffee +_box_. What if it ain't a house? I wonder now if it ain't right? I +wonder if there's lots of things that look right before you think about +them, that ain't right after you've turned 'em over a spell? And I +wonder how a fellow is going to know?" + +Then he gave his undivided attention to the sermon again; and went home +after the service was concluded, with a very thoughtful face. Jim was +there making a visit, but Tode only nodded to him, and went abruptly to +the little shelf behind the stove in the corner, and took down the old +Bible. + +"Grandma, where are the commandments put?" he asked eagerly, addressing +the old lady by the title which he had bestowed on her very early in +their acquaintance. + +"Why they're in Exodus, in the twentieth chapter." + +"And where's Exodus?" + +"Ho!" said Jim. "You know a heap, Tode, don't you?" + +Tode turned on him a grave anxious face. + +"Do you know about them? Well, just you come and find them for me, +that's a good fellow. I'm in a powerful hurry." + +Thus appealed to, Jim, nothing loth to display his wisdom, sauntered +toward the table, and speedily found and patronizingly pointed out the +commandments. Tode read eagerly until he came to those words, "Remember +the Sabbath day, to keep it holy." Then he read slowly and carefully, +"Six days shalt thou labor, and do all thy work: but the seventh day is +the Sabbath of the Lord thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work, +thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy manservant, nor thy +maidservant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates." + +Three times did Tode's astonished eyes go over this commandment in all +its length and breadth; then he looked up and spoke with deliberate +emphasis, + +"This beats all creation! And the strangest part of it is that you +didn't tell me anything about it, grandma." + +"Whatever is the boy talking about?" said grandma, wheeling her rocker +around to get a full view of his excited face; and then Tode gave a +synopsis of the evening sermon, and the history of his amazement, +culminating with this first reading of the fourth commandment. + +"And so you've been at your business all day!" exclaimed the astonished +old lady. "Why, for the land's sake, I thought you had gone off to some +meeting away at the other end of the city." + +"I never once knew the first thing about this in the Bible. How was I +going to know it was a mean thing to do?" questioned Tode, with +increasing excitement. "And it was the best day I've had, too, and that +makes it all the meaner." + +And his voice choked a little, and his head went suddenly down on his +arm. + +"Well, now, I wouldn't mind, deary," spoke the old lady in soothing +tones, after a few moments of silence. "If you didn't know anything +about it, of course you wasn't to blame. 'Tisn't as if you had learned +it in Sunday-school, and all that, and I wouldn't mind about the +business. Like enough you'll have more days just as brisk as Sunday." + +"It isn't that," Tode answered, disconsolately, lifting his head. "It's +all them Sundays that I've been and wasted, when I might have gone to +meeting. Been righter to go than to stay away, it seems; and it's +thinking about lots of other things that's wrong maybe, just like this, +and a fellow not knowing it." + +And as he spoke he listlessly turned over the leaves of the old Bible, +until his eye was arrested by the words, "Thou shalt guide me with thy +counsel." + +"That's exactly it," he told himself. "I've got to have a Bible. I'll +get one little enough to go into my jacket pocket, and then, says I, +we'll see if I can't find out about things. And after this I'm to shut +up box and go to church, am I? Well, that's one good thing, anyhow." + +Presently he and Jim climbed up to the little room over the kitchen. No +sooner were they alone than Tode commenced on a subject that had puzzled +him. + +"I say, Jim, how comes it that you knew all about those things and never +told _me_? That's treating a fellow pretty mean, I think. I always +shared the peanuts and things I got with you." + +"See here," answered Jim, in open-eyed wonder; "what are you driving +at?" + +"Why, _things_ that you know and never told me. Here your mother has got +a Bible, and you know verses in it, and know about heaven, and all, and +you never told me a word." + +Jim sat down on the foot of the bed and laughed, long and loud and +merrily. + +"I don't know, Tode, whether you're cracked, or what is the matter with +you," he said at last, when he could speak, "but I never heard a fellow +mixing up peanuts and heaven before." + +Tode was someway not in a mood to be laughed at, so he gave vent +somewhat loftily to a solemn truth. + +"Oh well, if you're a mind to think that the peanuts is of the most +consequence after all, why I don't know as I object." + +And then the boy deliberately knelt down and began his evening prayer. +He was too ignorant to know that there were boys who thought it unmanly +to pray. It never occurred to him to omit his kneeling. As for Jim he +felt himself in a very strange position. He kicked his heels against the +bedpost for awhile, but presently he grew ashamed of that, and +contented himself with very noisily making ready for bed. Tode, when he +rose, was in a softened mood, and as he blew out the light said: + +"I wish you knew how to pray, Jim. I do, honestly, it's so nice." + +"Praying and brandy bottles don't go together," answered his companion, +shortly. + +"No more they don't," said Tode, emphatically. "I had to quit that +business myself." + +If some of our respectable brandy-drinking, brandy-selling deacons +_could_ have heard those two ignorant boys talk! + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +EXIT TODE MALL. + + +On went the brisk and busy days; the soft air of summer was upon them, +and still the business at the dry-goods box flourished, and was taking +on fresh importance with every passing day. The people were almost +numberless who grew into the habit of stopping at the little box, to be +waited on by the briskest and sharpest of boys to delicious coffee and +cookies, or as the days grew warmer to a glass of iced lemonade, or a +saucer of glowing strawberries. The matter was putting on the semblance +of a partnership concern, for the old lady rivaled the bakery with her +cookies, both as regarded taste and economy; and in due course of time +Winny caught the infection, studied half a leaf of an old receipt-book +which came wrapped around an ounce of alum, and finally took to +compounding a mixture, which being duly baked and carefully watched by +the mother's practiced eye, developed into distracting little cream +cakes, which met with most astonishing sales. + +Meantime there were many spare half hours in the course of the long +days, which were devoted to the puzzling grammar and arithmetic, and +gradually light was beginning to dawn over not only the addition but the +subtraction table; or, more properly speaking, the addition circle. Tode +nightly chuckled over his invention as he started from a new figure and +raced glibly around to the climax, thereby calling forth the unqualified +approbation of Winny, not unmixed now and then with a certain curious +air of admiration at his rapid strides around the mystic circle. In +fact, things were progressing. Tode began to pride himself on making +change correctly and rapidly; began to wonder, supposing he had a one +hundred dollar bill to change, could he do it as rapidly _almost_ as +that man at the bank? Began to grow very ambitious, and in looking +through his arithmetic in search of nouns and verbs, chanced to alight +on the word "interest;" read about it, plied Winny with questions, some +of which she could answer and some not, went for further information to +the older brother who was at work at the livery stable. The result of +all of which was that our rising young street vagrant opened an account +at the savings bank, and had money at interest! By the way, his trip to +the livery stable revived his slumbering ambition in regard to horses, +and thenceforth he spent his regular "nooning" in that vicinity, or +mounted on one of the coach boxes with the "brother," who chanced to be +one of the finest drivers on the list. Not a very commendable locality +in which to spend his leisure, you think? That depends----. Tode's +happened, fortunately, to be much the stronger mind of the two; and +besides, you remember the guide which mounted guard in his jacket +pocket. He found it in accordance not only with one of the famous rules, +viz: "Learn everything that _is_ to be learned about everything that I +possibly can," but also in accordance with his inclination to learn to +drive; so learn he did, although his desire to become Mr. Hastings' +coachman had merged itself into a desire to own a complete little coffee +house like the one around the corner from him, with veritable shelves +and drawers, and a till to lock his money in. + +You think it a wonder that Tode never fell back into his old wretched +street vagrant rum-cellar life. Well, I don't know. What was there to +fall back to? I can't think it so charming a thing to be kicked around +like a football, to be half the time nearly frozen, and all the time +nearly starved, that people should tumble lovingly back into the gutter +from which they have once emerged, unless indeed one resigns his will to +the keeping of that demon who peoples the most of our gutters, which +thing, you remember, Tode did not do. Besides, be it also remembered +that the loving Lord had called this boy, and made ready a mansion in +the Eternal City for him, and is it so strange a thing that the Lord can +keep his _own_? + +It chanced one day that two coffee drinkers at his stand lingered and +talked freely about a certain lecture that was to be delivered before +the----. Tode didn't catch what society, and didn't care; but he did +learn the fact that Mr. Birge was to be the speaker. Now there had come +into this boy's heart a strong love for Mr. Birge; he had never spoken +to him in his life, but for all that Tode knew him well, nodded +complacently to himself whenever he chanced to meet Mr. Birge on the +street, and always pointed him out as his minister. Very speedily was +his resolution taken to attend this lecture. He didn't know the subject, +and indeed that was a matter of very slight moment to him. Whatever was +the subject he felt sure of its being a fine one, since Mr. Birge had +chosen it. Well he went, and as the lecture was delivered before one of +the benevolent societies of the city, the subject was the broad and +strong one, "Christian Giving." Tode came home with some new and +startling ideas. He burst into the little kitchen where the mother sat +placidly knitting her stockings, and the daughter sat knitting her brows +over her arithmetic lesson, and pronounced his important query: + +"Winny, what's tenths?" + +"What's what?" + +"Tenths. In counting money, you know, or anything. How much is tenths?" + +"Oh, you haven't got to that yet; it is away over in the arithmetic." + +"But, I tell you, I've _got_ to get at it right away--it's necessary. I +don't want it in the arithmetic; I want to do it." + +Which was and always _would_ be the marked difference between this boy's +and girl's education. She learned a thing because it was in the book; he +learned a thing in order to use it. + +"What do you want of tenths, anyhow? Why can't you wait until you get +there?" + +"'Cause things that they ought to be helping to do can't wait till I've +got there. I need to use one of them right away. Come, tell me about +them." + +"Well," said Winny, "where's your slate? Here are six-tenths, made +so--6/10." + +Tode looked with eager yet bewildered eyes. What had that figure six on +top of that figure ten, to do with Mr. Birge's earnest appeal to all who +called themselves by the name of Christian to make one-tenth of their +money holy to the Lord? + +"What's one-tenth then?" he said at last, hoping that this was something +which would look less puzzling. + +"Why, _this_ is one tenth." And Winny made a very graceful one, and a +neat ten, and drew a prim bewildering little line between them. + +"That is the way to write it. Ten-tenths make a whole, and one-tenth is +written just as I've shown you." + +"But, Winny," said Tode, in desperation, "never mind writing it. I don't +care _how_ they write it; tell me how they _do_ it." + +"How to _do_ it! I don't know what you mean. Ten-tenths make a whole, I +tell you, and one-tenth is just one-tenth of it, and that's all there is +about it." + +"The whole of what, Winny?" + +"The whole of anything. It takes ten-tenths to make a whole one." + +Poor puzzled Tode! What strange language was this that Winny talked? +Suppose he hadn't a whole one after all, since it took ten-tenths to +make it, and he couldn't even find out what _one_ of them was. Suppose +he should never have a whole one in his life, ought he not then to give +anything to help on all those grand doings which Mr. Birge told about? + +"I don't understand a bit about it," he said at last, in a despairing +tone. + +"Well, I knew you wouldn't," Winny answered, touches of triumph and +complaisance sounding in her voice. "You musn't expect to understand +such hard things until you get to them." + +And now the dear old mother, who had never studied fractions out of a +book in her life, came suddenly to the rescue. + +"Have you been reading about the tenths in your Bible, deary?" she +asked, with winning sympathy. + +"No, I didn't know they were there till to-night, but I've been hearing +about them, how the folks always used to give one-tenth, and Mr. Birge +made it out that we ought to now, but I don't know what it is." + +The old lady dived down into her work-basket and produced a little blue +bag full of buttons, of all shapes and sizes. + +"Let's you and me see if we can't study it out," she said, +encouragingly. "You just count out ten of the nicest looking of them +white buttons, and lay them along in a row." + +Tode swiftly and silently did as directed, and waited for light to dawn +on this dark subject. The old lady bent with thoughtful face over the +table, and looked fixedly at the innocent buttons before she commenced. + +"Now suppose," she said, impressively, "that every single one of them +buttons was a five dollar bill." + +"My!" said Tode, chuckling, in spite of himself, at the magnitude of the +conception, but growing deeply interested as his teacher proceeded. + +"And suppose the money was _all_ yours. Well, now, it's in ten piles, +_ain't_ it? Well, suppose you take one of them piles away, and make up +your mind to give it all to the Lord. Now, deary, I've studied over this +a good deal to see what I ought to give, and it's my opinion that if you +did that you'd be giving your tenth. Now, Winny, haven't we got at +it--ain't that so?" + +"Of course," said Winny, leaving her book and coming around to attend to +the buttons. "Isn't that exactly what I said? One, two, three, four. You +have got ten-tenths here to make the whole, and one of them is +one-tenth." + +"Humph!" said Tode, "You might have said it, but it didn't sound like it +one mite, and don't yet. I don't see as there's any ten-_tenths_ there +at all; there's ten _buttons_, leastways five dollar bills." + +"That's because you are not far enough advanced to understand," answered +Winny, going loftily back to her seat. + +"But see here," said Tode. "Suppose I had a lot of money, say--well, a +hundred dollars, all in ones and twos, you know--_then_ how could I +manage?" + +"Make ten piles of it, deary, don't you see? Put just as much in one +pile as another, and then you'd have it." + +Tode gave the subject a moment's earnest thought; then he gave a quick +clear whistle. + +"Yes, I see--all I've got to do is to keep my money in exactly ten +piles; no matter how much I get never make another, but pile it on to +them ten, serve each one alike, and then just understand that one of 'em +ain't mine at all, but belongs to the Lord, and that's all." + +"That's all," said the little old lady, with trembling eagerness. "And +don't it look reasonable, like?" + +"I should think it did," Tode answered, in a tone which said he had +settled a very puzzling question for all time. + +When he went to his room that evening he took out from the mass in his +pocket a crumpled bit of paper, and looked at some writing on it. It +read: "Genesis xxviii. 22." Mr. Birge had spoken of that verse, and Tode +had marked it down. Now he carefully sought out the verse and carefully +read it over several times; then he got down on his knees and prayed it +aloud: "And of _all_ that thou shalt give me, I will surely give the +tenth unto thee." + +It was later in the season, quite midsummer, when the Rev. Mr. Birge, +rushing eagerly down town past Tode's place of business, suddenly came +to a halt. The place was unique and inviting enough, graceful awning +floating out over the box, covered with its white cloth, fresh fruits on +tins of ice, fresh cakes covered with snowy napkins, dainty bouquets of +flowers, gleaming here and there, iced lemonade waiting to be poured +into sparkling glasses--everything faultlessly pure and clean; but it +was none of these things that halted Mr. Birge, nor yet the "No Bottles" +which still spoke eloquently of the owner's principles, but the +name--TODE MALL! The Rev. Mr. Birge had heard that singular combination +of names but once in his life, and then under circumstances he had never +forgotten. He stood irresolute a moment, then turned back and came under +the little awning. Tode's face glowed with pleasure as he flung aside +his grammar and came briskly forward to wait on his distinguished +guest. + +"I'll take a glass of lemonade, if you please," began Mr. Birge, +preparing to feel his way cautiously into the heart of this bright eyed +boy, and find if he was indeed the one whose mother had prayed for him +but once in her life, and that on her dying bed. + +"Yes, sir," answered Tode, promptly, giving the glasses little gleeful +chinks as he singled out the clearest. + +"I see you keep a temperance establishment. I'm glad of that. I didn't +expect to find a place in this quarter of the city where a temperance +man could get any refreshment." + +"Yes, sir, that's why I came down here to do business, 'cause there was +nothing but rum all around here, and I thought it was time they had the +other side of the story; and things _are_ improving some. The man that +kept the saloon right next to me drank himself to death, and broke down, +and the man that moved in is going to keep Yankee notions instead of +whisky." + +By a few skillfully put questions Mr. Birge satisfied himself that the +brisk young person who talked about "doing business" and his small +acquaintance of the Albany cellar were one and the same; and by this +time, drink as slowly as he could, the lemonade was exhausted. So, bound +to be a valuable customer, he tried again. + +"What nice things do you keep hidden under that dainty napkin? Cakes, +eh? Suppose I take one. Do they go well with lemonade?" + +"First-rate, sir." And Tode's face was radiant with pleasure as he saw +not only one but three of Winny's delicious cream cakes disappear. + +Then Mr. Birge took out his pocket-book. It was no part of his intention +just then and there to betray any previous knowledge of the boy's +history; the little scene in that life drama which he had helped enact +was too solemn and sacred, too fraught with what might be made into +tender memories, to be given by a stranger into the hands of a rough and +probably hardened boy; he could keep it to tell gently to this poor +fellow in the quiet of some softly-lighted room, when he should have +gained an influence over him for good, for he was a fisher of boys as +well as men, this good man; and he told himself that the Lord had thrown +this self-same boy into his path again, to give him a chance to do the +work which a few hours' delay had robbed him of years ago; and Mr. Birge +knew very well that opportunities to do the work which had been let +slip, nine years before, came rarely to any man. And he was glad, and he +was going to be very wary and wise, therefore he drew forth his +pocket-book. + +"Now what am I to pay you for this excellent lunch?" + +"Nothing, sir." And Tode's cheeks fairly blazed with joy. + +"Nothing!" answered the astonished customer. + +"Yes, sir, _nothing_. I don't charge my minister anything for lunch. +Like to have you come every day, sir." + +"Your minister!" + +"Yes, sir. Didn't you know you was my minister?" chuckled Tode. "Bless +me, _I_ know it, I tell _you_--known it this long time." + +And then ensued a lively conversation, question and answer following +each other in quick succession; and Mr. Birge went through a great many +phases of feeling in a brief space of time. First came a great throb of +joy. The boy is safe the mother's prayer is answered--good measure, +pressed down, running over--not only a temperance boy to the very core, +but a Christian; then a quick little thrill of pain--oh, his work was +done, but his duty had been left undone; the Lord had gathered in this +stray waif, but _he_ was not the servant. Then, first great +astonishment, and afterward humble, _very_ humble thanksgiving. So then +he was the servant after all; the Lord had called him in to help, and +the work was begun on that stormy night, that night over which he had +grumbled, and had doubting, questioning thoughts. Oh, there were a great +many lessons to learn during that long conversation, and the minister +smiled presently to himself over the memory of how he took it for +granted that because the little yellow-haired boy had run away from his +intended care nine years before, he had therefore run away from God; +smiled to remember how carefully he was going to approach this rough, +hardened boy. "Oh well," he said to himself, as he turned from the shade +of the awning, compelled by the press of customers to defer further +conversation, "I shall learn after a time that although the Lord is +gracious and forbearing, and kindly gives me the work to do here and +there for him, he can when he chooses get along entirely without the +help of John Birge." + +Nevertheless he did not yet make known the fact of his early +acquaintance with Tode--not so much now that he wanted to keep it to +help in melting the boy's heart, as that he had come to realize that +Tode's mother was already his one tender memory, and that everything +about that death-bed scene, if remembered at all, must be fraught with +pain; so he still kept the story until some quiet time when they should +be in a pleasant room alone. But this meeting was a great thing for +Tode. From that day forth Mr. Birge realized fully that he was the boy's +minister. He began at once to work carefully for him. Thursday evening +Tode learned to close business at an early hour, and betake himself to +the Young People's Meeting. He was toled into the Sabbath-school--more +than that, he coaxed Winny in, a feat which her mother had never +succeeded in performing. + +It was some time in September that a new duty and a new privilege dawned +upon him, that of publicly uniting himself with the people of God. Tode +never forgot the solemn joy which thrilled his soul at that time, when +it was made known to him that this privilege was actually his. There +came a wondrously beautiful October Saturday, and Tode stood by the +window in Mr. Birge's study. It was just at the close of a long +conversation. On the morrow the boy was to stand up in the church and +take the solemn vows upon him, and his face was grave yet glad. + +"By the way," said Mr. Birge, "yours is a very singular name. Fortunate +that it is, or I never would have found you again; but it must be a +contraction of something." + +"Why yes," answered Tode, hesitatingly. He didn't know what contraction +meant. "My name was once, when I was a _very_ little youngster, +_Theodore_; but I never knew myself in that way." + +"Theodore! A grand name--it belonged to a brother of mine once before he +was called to receive 'the new name.' I like it; and Theodore the name +goes down on my record. How do you spell the other? Are you sure that's +all right?" + +"M-a--" began our friend, then stopped to laugh. "Why no--I'll be bound +that ain't my name, either. It's Mallery, that's what it is; no Mall +about it." + +Mr. Birge turned and surveyed his caller leisurely, with a quiet smile +on his face. + +"It seems to me, Master Theodore Mallery, that you are sailing under +false colors," he said at last. "What have you to do with Tode Mall?" + +Tode laughed. + +"Well they nicknamed me so, and I suppose it stuck, and it seems like +me; but my name truly is Theodore S. Mallery." + +"Then of course I shall write it so." And after he had written it Mr. +Birge came over and took the boy's hand. + +"It is a pleasant idea," he said. "Let us take the new name, a picture +of the new life which begins to-morrow, when you say before the world, +as for me I will serve the Lord. Be very careful of the new name, dear +brother; don't stain it with any shadow of evil." + +Tode walked home slowly and thoughtfully in the gathering twilight, +strange new thoughts stirring in his heart. He felt older and graver and +wiser. He went round by his business stand; he took his knife from his +pocket and carefully pried out the tacks which held his pasteboard sign; +then he held it up in the waning light, and looked earnestly at the +letters, his face working with new thoughts. But the only outward +expression which he gave to these thoughts was to say as he rolled up +the pasteboard: + +"I must have a new sign. Good-by, Tode Mall, I'm done with you forever. +After this I'm Theodore S. Mallery." + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +PLEDGES AND PARTNERSHIPS. + + +There was a little bit of a white house, cunning and cozy, nestled in +among the larger ones, on a quiet, pleasant street of the city. It was a +warm June day, and the side door was open, which gave one a peep into a +dainty little dining-room. There was a bright carpet on the floor, a +green-covered table between the windows, with books and papers scattered +about on it in the way which betokens use and familiarity instead of +show. The round table was set for three, and ever and anon a dear little +old woman bustled in from the bit of a kitchen and added another touch +to the arrangements for dinner. A young miss of perhaps sixteen was +curled in a corner of the lounge, working rapidly and a little nervously +with slate, and pencil, and brain. The side gate clicked, and a young +man came with quick decided tread up the flower-bordered walk. The +student raised her eyes and found her voice: + +"Oh, Theodore! for pity's sake see what is the matter with this example? +I've worked it over so many times that the figures all dance together, +and don't seem to mean anything." + +"What is it? Algebra?" And the young man laid his cap on the table, +tossed the curls back from his forehead, and sat down beside her. + +"Yes, it's algebra, and I'm thoroughly bewildered. Do you believe I ever +_will_ know much about it, Theodore?" + +"Why, certainly you will. You're a good scholar now, if you wouldn't get +into such a flurry, and try to add and multiply and divide all at once. +See here, you've used the wrong terms twice, and that is the sum and +substance of your entire trouble." + +Winny looked a little perplexed and a little annoyed, and then laughed. + +"Have patience with your bundle of stupidity, Theodore," she said, half +deprecatingly. "I may do you credit yet some day, improbable as it +looks." + +And then the dear old lady, who had been trotting back and forth at +intervals, now ushered in a teapot and called them to dinner; and they +three sat down, and heads were reverently bowed while the young man +reverently said: "Our Father, we return thee thanks for these, and all +the unnumbered blessings of this day. May we use the strength which thou +dost give us to thine honor and thy praise." And the old lady softly +said, "Amen." + +I do not know that you have ever heard the dear old lady's name, but it +was McPherson--Mrs. McPherson. Of course you remember Winny, and the +young man was the person who used to be familiarly known by the name of +Tode Mall, but it was long since it had occurred even to him that he was +ever other than Theodore Mallery, the enterprising young proprietor of +that favorite refreshment-room down by the depot; for the dry-goods box +had disappeared, so also had the cellar rum-hole. There was a neat +building down there, the name, "Temperance House," gleamed in large +letters from the glass of both windows, and "Theodore S. Mallery" shone +over the door. Within all was as neat and complete as care and skill and +grace could make it; and that it was a favorite resort could be seen by +standing for a few moments to watch the comers and goers at almost any +hour in the day. + +Theodore came down the street with his peculiar rapid tread, glanced in +to see if his brisk little assistant was in attendance, then went across +the street and around the corner to a grocery near at hand. + +"Mr. Parks," he said, speaking as one in the habit of being full of +business and in haste, "can you cash this note for me? Good afternoon, +Mr. Stephens," to that gentleman, who stood in a waiting attitude. + +"Yes," said Mr. Parks, promptly, "if you will count this roll of bills +for me. I'm one of those folks that I've read about who 'count for +confusion,' I guess. Anyhow, these come different every time." + +"With pleasure, sir," answered Theodore, seizing upon the bills with +alacrity, and fluttering them through his fingers with the rapidity of +thought. "Ninety-eight--seventy-three," he announced after a few seconds +of flutter and rustle. + +"Are you sure?" + +"Quite." And again he ran over the notes, and announced the same result. + +"Thank you," said Mr. Parks, with a relieved air. And as Theodore +gathered up his bills and vanished, the old gentleman looking after him +said: + +"That's a smart chap, Mr. Stephens. I don't know his match anywhere +around this city. True as steel every time, and just as sharp as steel +any day." + +"Yes," answered Mr. Stephens, quietly. "I have heard of the young man +before, and know something of his character." + +Two hours afterward Theodore was reading a letter. It commenced: + + "PRIVATE OFFICE, } + "June 16, 18--.} + + "_My Dear Young Friend_: + + "It is something over four years since you came to + me one night with my ten-dollar bill, since which + time my eyes have been on you. I did not present + you with the bill then and there, as I was tempted + to do. I am not one of the croakers who think it + sinful to reward honesty. God rewards every day + our efforts toward the right; but I think the + reward can come too suddenly when man takes it + into his own hands. I stayed my hand. I determined + instead to keep you in view, and keep the helping + hand stretched out, unseen by you; but ready to + come to your aid in time of need. No such a time + has come to you. The Lord evidently took you for + his own, and gave his angels charge concerning + you. I have watched and waited. I know all about + your character, young man, and more about your + education than you think. + + "As I said, your time of need, for which I have + been waiting, has not come, but mine has. I need + just such a young man as you--one who will be + prompt, active and efficient. You know my place of + business, and that I make few changes. I do not + like the business you have chosen. Keeping an + eating saloon is a respectable employment, always + provided that the business is respectably + conducted, which yours has been. I do not doubt + that you have done much good. You have fought the + giant enemy of this present time nobly and well. + But the business is not suited to your capacity, + by which I mean that your capacity overruns the + business. Your pet enemy needs fighting, not only + with strong principles but with money, and a + certain kind of business power, both of which I + can put you in the way to gain more rapidly. + + "In short, if you choose to come to me as one of + my confidential clerks, on a salary which I will + name when I see you, and which shall rise as you + rise, I shall be glad to talk with you this + evening at eight o'clock. If you have no idea of + making a change in business; if your present + occupation suits you, I will not trouble you to + make me any reply other than to return this + communication to me through the post-office, and + we will quietly let the matter drop. + + "Yours truly, + "JOHN S. S. STEPHENS." + +Our young man caught his breath and held it in for a moment after +reading this remarkable epistle. Yes, he knew Mr. Stephens' place of +business very well indeed; it was the largest and finest mercantile +house in the city; and to be fairly launched forth in his employ, with +a reasonable prospect of suiting him, was to be a possible millionaire. +And to think that that fearful ten-dollar bill, which had made his +cheeks burn so many, _many_ times, was the means that had brought him +such a letter as this. "All things work together for good to them--" Oh +yes, he knew that verse, and believed it, too. But what a strange idea +that Mr. Stephens should have been watching him, should have known so +much about his affairs, and instinctively he ran over his life to see +what things he could have done differently had he known that Mr. +Stephens was watching. Then his face flushed as he thought of the +All-seeing Eye that had been fixed on him night and day; then he held +his head erect, and reminded himself that whatever Mr. Stephens might +have seen to condemn, God knew his heart, knew that through many +failures and constant blunders he had been honestly trying to follow his +guide. But how strange that Mr. Stephens should suppose him fitted for a +clerkship in his store. He tried to decide what would be expected of +him, what he ought to know in order to be fitted for the position. +Prices and positions of goods? About these he knew nothing, nor did his +want of knowledge in this respect particularly disturb him; he knew +perfectly well that he had a quick eye and a quick memory, and a +remarkably convenient determination to learn everything that could be +learned in as short a space of time as possible. Book-keeping? How +fortunate it was that he should have happened into Joe Brower's father's +store just as Joe's father was giving his son a lesson in book-keeping, +and that then and there had arisen _his_ determination to study +book-keeping, and that he had commenced it; and at first with a little +of Joe's help, and then with a good deal of his father's, and finally +with no help at all, he conquered it. Then what an extraordinary thing +it was that he should have gone home to tea a little earlier than usual +that evening three years ago, and so surprised Winny in the act of +wiping away two tears, and found that they were shed because the dear +mother couldn't possibly pay for the desire of Winny's heart, namely: +French lessons; and that after much discussion and ex-postulation he +should have been allowed to consecrate one of the ten piles, in which he +always kept his money, to French lessons, and that he had begun at first +for pure fun, and ended by working hard over the lessons, Winny, on her +part, laboring earnestly to repeat in the evening just what she had +learned during the day, until now after the lapse of three years he knew +perfectly well that while he would undoubtedly make a Frenchman wild +with his attempts at pronunciation, yet the French letter would have to +be very queerly written that he could not translate, and the message an +exceedingly crooked one that he could not render into smoothly written +French. But how did Mr. Stephens know all these things? Well, never +mind. Only, he said with energy, there are some more things that I +_will_ know if I have the good fortune to get near that German clerk of +his, and Winny shall have her chance at German yet. + +Callers found their usually brisk host almost inattentive during the +remainder of that afternoon. About five o'clock he dispatched a note, +addressed "J. H. McPherson, Euclid House," and astonished and delighted +his young waiter by an unusually early putting up of shutters, and of +putting things generally to rights for the night. In fact, it was not +more than seven o'clock when Jim McPherson arrived and found his +old-time companion alone and in waiting. + +"Halloo! What's up?" was his greeting. + +"You received my note?" + +"Yes, and have been dying of curiosity ever since to know what the +'important business intimately connected with' myself, could be about I +thought at one time though, that I wasn't going to get away. All +creation appeared to want to take supper with us to-night. What are you +all shut up so early for?" + +"Business. Jim, I have just the chance for you to get away from there." + +"How?" + +"Well," and then his companion launched forth in an account of his +afternoon letter, and the prospects which were opening before him, and +also his idea of the prospects which were opening before Jim. When he +ceased, the said Jim gazed at him in silence for a moment, and then +said: + +"And you offer me an out-and-out partnership?" + +"Out-and-out. You can come right in here and take the business just as +it is, furniture and fixtures of all sorts, and from this time forth +until we change our minds I'll pay half the expenses and share the +profits. That is--well, there's only one proviso." + +"I thought there must be something somewhere. What is it?" + +"You know, Jim, this is a temperance business." + +"Of course. What's your proviso?" + +"You must sign the pledge." + +"Stuff and nonsense." + +"Very well, if that's your final answer we will drop the subject." + +"But, Tode, that's perfectly silly. Can't you trust a fellow unless he +puts his name to a piece of paper like a baby? I don't drink, and I +won't sell rum here. What more do you want?" + +"Want you to say so on paper." + +"What for?" + +"To gratify me perhaps. It isn't a great deal to do. If you mean what +you say you can have no serious objection to doing so." + +"Yes, but I have. I don't approve of signing away my liberty in that +style." + +"Who has been saying that to you?" asked Theodore, gravely. + +"Perhaps I said it myself." + +"I think not. I believe _you_, personally, have more sense." + +Whereat Jim laughed and looked a little ashamed. + +"No matter," he said at last, "I ain't going to sign a pledge for +anybody, but I'm willing to get out of that business. I don't like +making drunkards any better than you do, and I should have quit before +if I could have seen any chance just on mother's account, but I never +expected an offer like this." + +To all of which Theodore made answer only by setting himself comfortably +back in his arm-chair, pushing a fruit-basket toward his companion, and +saying: + +"Have a pear, Jim?" + +Then the talk drifted on to pears and peaches, and divers other fruits, +until Jim said: + +"Come, let's talk business." + +Theodore opened his eyes large, and looked inquiring. + +"I thought we were done with business," he said, innocently. + +"Do you really mean that you withdraw your offer unless I will sign the +pledge?" + +"Why certainly. I thought you understood that to be my proviso." + +"But, Tode, don't you think that is forcing a fellow?" + +"Not at all. You are perfectly free, of course, to do as you please. If +you please to decline a good offer, merely because you won't promise not +to drink what you say you don't drink, and not to sell what you say you +don't want to sell, why that is your own matter, of course, and I can +not help myself." + +Jim mused a little. + +"Well, you see," he said presently, "I do now and then take a drop of +wine, not enough to amount to much, and I'm in no danger of doing it +very often, for I honestly don't care much for it." + +"No. What then?" + +"Why, I'd have to stop that, of course, if I signed your pledge." + +"Of course. What then?" + +"Why, then," and here Jim broke down and laughed, and finally added: +"Tode, I wish you were not such an awful fanatic about this." + +"But since I am, what is to be done?" + +Silence fell between the two for a time, until Jim said with a little +touch of disgust: + +"Tode, you're as set in your way as a stone wall." + +"All right. What is the conclusion of the whole matter?" + +"Oh fudge! bring on your pledge and give us a pen." + +Instantly a drawer from a side table was drawn energetically out, and +pen, ink, and a veritable pledge were placed before the young man. A few +quick dashes of the pen, and "James H. McPherson" stood out in plain +relief under the strongly worded total abstinence pledge. + +His companion waited with flushing cheek and eager eyes until the last +letter was written; then he sprang up with an energy that set the +arm-chair upside down, and uttered a vehement: + +"Good! Jim, oh Jim, I could shout for joy. I have fairly held my breath +for fear you would not reach the point." + +Jim laughed. + +"What a fanatic you are!" he said in a tone of assumed carelessness. +"How do you know I won't break it to-morrow?" + +"I know perfectly well. If I had not I should not have been so anxious +to have you sign to-night. You happen to be as set in _your_ way as an +acre of stone fences." + +More talk ensued--eager, future plannings. Those two young men, very +unlike in many respects, yet assimilated on a few strong points. +Theodore had constantly kept a hold on his early friend--at first +because of the dear old mother, and finally because his stronger nature +drawing out and in a measure toning Jim's, the two had grown less apart +than seemed at first probable. + +It wanted but twenty minutes to eight when the young men left the room +where important business not only for time, but, as it came to pass, for +eternity, had been settled, and hurried, the one to the Euclid House, +and the other around the corner toward the great dry-goods house on the +main business street. He stopped first though at the cozy little white +house, moved with eager steps up the walk, flung open the side door, and +spoke in tones full of suppressed excitement to the old lady, who was +nodding over her large print Testament, Jim's birthday gift. + +"Grandma, I have a present for you." And a crisp paper was produced and +laid on the page of the open Bible. A glance showed it to be a +temperance pledge--another look, a start, a filling of the dim old eyes +with tears as the beloved name, James H. McPherson, swam before her +vision, and true to her faith her loving voice gave utterance to her +full heart: + +"'While they are yet speaking I will hear.' I was just speaking to him +again, don't you think, about that very thing. Oh the Lord bless him and +help him. Now, deary, we won't be content with this, will we?" + +Theodore shook his head emphatically. + +"He must come over _entirely_ to the Lord's side," he said, smiling, +"now that he has come half way." + +The city clock was giving the last stroke of eight as Theodore was +ushered into the private office of Mr. Stephens. That gentleman arose to +greet him with a smile of satisfaction, and then ensued another business +talk, and the drift of it can be drawn from these concluding sentences: + +"Well, sir," from Mr. Stephens to Theodore, as the latter arose to go, +"how soon may I expect you? How long is it going to take you to get your +business in shape to leave? We need help as soon as possible." + +"I will be on hand to-morrow morning, sir." + +"What! ready for work? How is it possible that you have dispatched +matters so rapidly?" + +"Why," said Theodore, "from two o'clock until eight gives one six good +hours in which to dispatch business." + +And Mr. Stephens, as they went down the great store together, smiled +again and said to himself: + +"I don't believe I have mistaken my man." + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +TRANSLATIONS. + + +There was an evening party at the house of the Rev. John Birge. Not one +of those grand crushes, where every body is cross and warm and +uncomfortable generally, but a cozy little gathering of young ladies and +gentlemen, people whom the minister desired to see come into more social +contact with each other. Among the number was Miss Dora Hastings. Dora +still continued to come to Sunday-school, although she had arrived at +that mysterious age when young ladies are apt to be too old for anything +reasonable; but Dora, for some unaccountable reason, so at least her +mother thought, clung to her little girl habits, and went to +Sunday-school; so she chanced to be numbered among the guests at Mr. +Birge's party. Pliny was also invited but had chosen not to come, so Ben +Phillips had supplied his place as escort, and stood now chatting with +her when a new arrival was announced. + +Mrs. Birge came to the end of the room where Dora stood, and with her a +young gentleman. + +"Dora," she said, "permit me to introduce a young friend of mine--Mr. +Mallery, Miss Hastings." + +Now it so happened that although Theodore had been for years a member of +the same Sabbath-school with this young lady, and had seen her sitting +in the Hastings' pew in church on every Sabbath day, still this was the +first time that he had met her face to face, near enough to speak to +her, since that evening so long ago when they conversed together on a +momentous subject. Theodore's knowledge of the world and social +distinctions had increased sufficiently to make him extremely doubtful +concerning the young lady's reception, but Dora was cordial and frank, +and said, "Good evening, Mr. Mallery," as she would have greeted any +stranger, and set him at once at his ease. + +Ben Phillips good-naturedly held out his hand, and said, "How d'ye do, +Tode?" and made room for him to enter the circle. It was a curious +evening to the young man, the first in that mysterious place called +"society." Probably the young ladies and gentlemen fluttering through +the rooms had not the faintest idea how closely they were being watched +and studied by one pair of earnest eyes. + +Theodore's ambition for a yellow cravat had long since given place to +more important things--given place so utterly that the subject of dress +had been almost entirely passed over. Before this evening waned he was +thoroughly conscious of his position. He discovered that his clothes +were oddly fitted and oddly made; that his boots were rough and coarse; +that his hands were gloveless; that even his hair was as curiously +arranged as possible. He discovered more than this--to many of the gay +company he was evidently a laughing-stock; a few of the more reckless +ones deliberately and openly made sport of him. Ben Phillips, who had +been cordial enough at first, found himself on the unpopular side, and +ignored the almost stranger for the remainder of the evening. In vain +did Mr. Birge try quietly to bring him inside the circle. Those of his +guests who were too cultured to make merry at the expense of this +foreign element which had come among them, yet seemed not to have +sufficient courage to welcome him to their midst; those with whom he sat +down frequently at the table of their common Lord seemed neither to know +nor to desire to know him here; and Mr. Birge's effort to assimilate the +different elements of his congregation seemed likely to prove a +disastrous failure. A merry company were gathered around Dora Hastings. +She held a book in her hand, and was struggling with the translation of +a sentiment written therein in French, and judging from the bursts of +laughter echoing from the group the attempt was either a real or +pretended failure. Theodore stood at a little distance from them, +perfectly able to hear what was said, yet as utterly alone as he would +have been out in the silent street. + +"What terrible stuff she is reading," he said to himself. "I wonder if +she really _can not_ read it, or if she has any idea of what it is." As +if to answer his wondering, Dora turned suddenly toward him. + +"We'll appeal for help," she said, gaily. "Mr. Mallery, do come to the +rescue. My French is defective or the translation is incorrect, probably +the latter." + +Another burst of laughter followed this appeal; but Theodore, taking a +sudden resolution, stepped promptly forward. + +"I conclude," he said, glancing at the book, and then looking steadily +around him, "that you really do not take in the meaning of this +sentence, any of you?" + +"I am sure I do not," answered Dora, gaily. "It is about 'everlasting +eyes,' I think, or some such nonsense; but what little I once knew about +French, and little enough it was, I assure you, has utterly gone from +me, so have compassion on our ignorance if you can." + +Without further comment Theodore, with quiet dignity, read the sentence: +"The eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the evil and the +good." As he finished his eye caught Dora's; her face was flushed and +eager. + +"You are right," she said, promptly. "We none of us understood the +sentence, or we could never have indulged in foolish jesting over so +solemn a truth." + +Ben Phillips gave vent to his astonishment in words: + +"Tode, how on earth did you learn French?" + +Dora laughed lightly. + +"He studied, I presume," she said, merrily. "And that you know is what +_you_ never would do, Ben. Mr. Mallery, suppose you come and decipher +for me the motto underneath the French scene in the further parlor." + +And taking Tode's offered arm the daughter of the millionaire moved down +the long parlor by his side. Mr. Birge, coming at that moment from the +dining-room, passed the two, then turning back sought his wife to say: + +"The experiment has succeeded. Theodore is promenading with Dora +Hastings." + +"The _splendid_ girl!" said Mrs. Birge, energetically. "I knew she +would." + +Meantime Theodore had resolved on a bold stroke for the Master. + +"Do you remember anything connected with that verse, Miss Hastings?" he +asked, as the two entered the almost deserted back parlor. + +"Indeed I do," Dora answered, eagerly. "I never forgot it, and your +earnest questions about it, and I could tell you so little." + +"I found out a great deal about it, though, taking the information that +you gave me for a starting point, and I have reason to thank God that +you ever showed me your little card. But do you know anything more of +the matter now, experimentally I mean?" + +Dora's voice trembled a little as she answered: + +"I think--I--sometimes I hope I do. I am trying to learn a little, +stumbling along slowly, with oh _so_ many drawbacks; and do you know I +think my interest in these things dates back to that stormy evening in +prayer-meeting, when you asked me such queer questions? At least I +thought them queer then." + +No more standing aloof during that evening for Theodore Mallery. It +mattered little how his clothes were cut or of what material they were +made; so long as Dora Hastings walked through the rooms and chatted +familiarly with him, not a girl present but stood ready to follow her +example. + +Later in the evening Dora said to him, hesitatingly and almost timidly: + +"Mr. Mallery, I don't like you to think that I was making sport of that +Bible verse. I truly know almost nothing about French, and I didn't +take, the sense of it in the least until you read it." + +There was another thing that the young man was very anxious to know, and +that was whether her motive was mischief or kind intent when she called +on him; and like the straightforward individual that he was, he asked +her: + +"What possessed you to suppose I could read it?" + +"Oh," said Dora, innocently, "I knew you were a French scholar, because +Mr. Birge told me so." + +Someway it was an immense satisfaction to Theodore to know that Dora's +intention had not been to make light of his supposed ignorance. As he +went home in the moonlight he laughed a little, and indulged himself in +his old habit of soliloquizing. + +"It's just the matter of fine boots and gloves, and a few things of that +sort. I did decide once this evening to push the thing through, and make +my way up in spite of gloves and boots and broadcloth, and I would now +but for one thing. In fact I _have_; we braved it through together. That +one girl is worth all the rest of them, and she came to the rescue +fairly and squarely. If she had failed me I would have showed the whole +of them a few things, but she didn't, and there's no occasion for making +it such a martyrdom for any of them hereafter. On the whole, I believe +I'll manage to get dear old Grandma McPherson other work besides +tailoring after this. There is no earthly reason why I shouldn't dress +as respectable as any body. I don't know but I owe it to Mr. Stephens to +do so. Yes, sir, I've changed my mind--boots and broadcloth shall be my +servants hereafter." + +Keeping in mind this new resolution, Theodore secured the first leisure +moment, and inquired of Mr. Stephens what route to take. + +"Going to have a new suit of clothes?" questioned that gentleman in a +tone of polite indifference, not at all as though he had watched and +waited for the development of that very idea. "Well, let me see. I think +Barnes & Houghton will serve you quite as well as any. They are +on--wait, I will give you their address." + +The hour which Theodore had chosen was not a fashionable one at the +great establishment of Barnes & Houghton, and he found some half dozen +clerks lounging about, with no more important occupation than to coax +some fun out of any material which chanced to fall in their way. + +"I want to look at some business suits," began Theodore, addressing the +foremost of them, with a slight touch of hesitancy and embarrassment. It +was new business to him. + +"Then I'd advise you to look at them by all means; always do as you want +to when you can as well as not, my boy," was the answer which he +received, spoken in a tone of good-humored insolence, and not a clerk +moved. + +"Would you like a white vest pattern, or perhaps you would prefer +velvet?" queried a foppish little fellow. And Theodore, who was sharper +at that style of talk than any of them, and was rapidly losing his +embarrassment, replied in a tone of great good humor: + +"I never pick out my goods until I see them; but then perhaps the vest +you have on is for sale? Are you the show-block?" + +This question, put with great apparent innocence, produced a peal of +laughter, for the vest in question was rather too stylish to be in +keeping with the wearer's surroundings and business. + +An older clerk now interposed. + +"Show him something, Charlie--that's a good fellow." + +"Can't," said Charlie, from his seat on the counter, "I'm too busy; +besides I don't believe we could suit him. We haven't anything in the +style his clothes are cut. There's a man right around the corner whose +father made coats for Noah's grandsons; hadn't you better go to him?" + +"I say," put in he of the stylish vest, "can't you call in some other +time, when business isn't quite so pressing? You see we're just about +driven to death this morning." + +Just how far this style of treatment would have been carried, or just +how long Theodore would have borne it, can not be known, for with the +conclusion of the last sentence every clerk came suddenly to a standing +posture, and two of them advanced courteously to meet a new-comer, at +the same moment that a gentleman with iron gray hair, and whom Theodore +took to be one of the proprietors, emerged from a private office, and +came forward on the same errand, and the young man nearly laughed +outright when he recognized in the new-comer Mr. Stephens. The two +gentlemen were shaking hands. + +"Glad to see you again, Mr. Stephens," said he of the iron gray hair. +"How can we serve you this morning?" + +"Nothing for me personally, thank you." And then Mr. Stephens turned to +Theodore. + +"Do you find what you wish, Mallery? Mr. Houghton, let me make you +acquainted with this young friend of mine--Mr. Mallery, Mr. Houghton. +This young man, Mr. Houghton, is one of my confidential clerks, a very +highly valued one, and any kindness that you can show him will be +esteemed as a personal favor to me." + +Mr. Houghton bowed his iron gray head very low. + +"Very happy to have Mr. Mallery's patronage; trusted they could suit +him. Had he looked at goods? What should they have the pleasure of +showing him this morning? Cummings, show Mr. Mallery into the other +room, and serve him to the best of your ability." + +And what shall be said of the half dozen clerks? Amazement, confusion +and consternation were each and all vividly depicted on their faces. Mr. +Stephens' clerk! a highly valued clerk! Mr. Stephens, of all men in the +city, the last to be offended! Disgrace and dismissal stared them in the +face. For a little minute Theodore was tempted--half a dozen dignified +words now, and he understood Mr. Stephens' position well enough to know +that these same clerks would not be likely to offend in the same place +again. One little moment, the next he turned on his heel and followed +Cummings, the aforesaid Charlie, whose face was blazing, into the next +room. A word, though, of private exhortation could not be amiss. + +"You blundered, you see, this time," he said to Cummings, still +good-naturedly. "Wouldn't it be well not to judge a fellow _always_ by +the cut of his coat?" + +"You're a brick!" burst forth the amazed Cummings. "I expected to be +blown higher than a kite, and get my walking ticket besides. You're the +best-natured fellow I ever saw." + +"You're mistaken again, my friend. I lost my good nature almost +entirely, and came within a word of telling the whole story; only one +little thing hindered me." + +"What was it?" + +"Why I was reading in a very old book, just before I came out this +morning, and one sentence read: 'Whatsoever ye would that men should do +to you, do ye even so to them,' and I thought to try it." + +"Humph!" said Cummings. + +But no descendant of the royal line could have been served more royally +than was our friend Mallery at that house, by that young man, then and +thereafter. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +"WINE IS A MOCKER." + + +Theodore, or "Mallery," which was the name grown most familiar to him, +was rushing down town belated and in haste. The business which had +called him out had taken longer than the time which had been assigned to +it, and in consequence the next appointment was likely to suffer. At the +corner he paused and considered. "Let me see--if I go down this block, +and up the track to the next corner, I shall save--one, two, three, four +blocks. Yes, it will pay; I'll do it." On he went, struck the track +presently, and moved rapidly along the iron walk. An unusual sight +suddenly presented itself to his eyes, that of a carriage and two +powerful horses coming around the curve, and making a carriage drive of +the railway track. It took but a moment of time to discover three +things, viz: that it was the Hastings' carriage, that the coachman was +beyond a doubt too much intoxicated to know what he was about, and that +the Buffalo Express was due at the distant depot in just two minutes, +and must pass over the very track on which that carriage was trundling +along. The perspiration came and stood in beads on the young man's pale +face; but there was time for no other show of emotion--he must think and +work rapidly if at all. "Could he possibly get those horses across to +the other track in time?" No, for there was a perfect network of tracks +just here, no place for a carriage at all, and a puffing engine directly +ahead, liable to start at any instant, and ready to frighten the horses, +who would probably rear, plunge, back, do _anything_ but what he wished +of them. There was a wretched gully on this side and a fence, but the +fence was low, and the gully wide enough to receive the carriage if it +could be forced down the embankment. During this planning Mallery was +running with all speed toward the carriage, and then the depot bell +began to ring, and the roar and puff of the coming train could be +distinctly heard. The horses began to plunge, and make ready to break +into a fierce run right into the jaws of the coming monster, when a firm +hand grasped their bridles. Jonas had just sense enough left to try to +resist this proceeding, and Mallery saw, with a throb of thankfulness, +the whip drop from his unsteady hand, thus preventing the horses from +being lashed into greater fury; then he applied all the strength of his +arms and his knowledge of horses to the dangerous experiment of backing +them down into the gully. They snorted and plunged, and were bent on +going forward, and were steadily, and as it seemed with super-human +strength, forced backward; and as the carriage crashed down the hill the +very rearing of the horses drew Theodore's feet from the outer rail, and +the train came thundering by. And now the affrighted horses seemed more +than ever bent on rushing forward to destruction, while the long train +shot onward. Mallery, while he battled with them, became conscious that +from the raised window of the carriage a young face, deathly in pallor, +was bent forward watching the conflict, and he renewed the determination +to save that life thus resting, so far as human help was concerned, in +his hands. Jonas had dropped the reins, and sat aghast, and sobered with +terror. Now the long train had vanished, the puffing engine on the other +track had gathered up its forces and followed after, and Theodore, by a +dint of coaxing, soothing and commanding the terror-stricken animals, +had succeeded in subduing them in part, and guiding the carriage up the +bank and quite across the network of tracks; then gathering the reins +in his hand he came to the carriage window and spoke, using in his +excitement the name familiar to him in the days when she had given him +his first lessons in writing. + +"There is no cause for further alarm, Dora. I will see that you reach +home in safety." + +Not one word to him did Dora utter; but she clasped her trembling hands, +and said with white lips: + +"Thank God." + +And the young man added reverently and meaningly: "Amen." + +Then he sprang to the driver's seat, and uttered two short firm words to +the cowed and sober driver. + +"Get down!" + +Never was a command more promptly obeyed. There were five minutes yet +before the next train would be due, time enough to make his way +carefully along the uncertain road built only for iron horses; but the +peril had been too recent for the young man not to make eager haste, nor +did he draw a long full breath of relief until the last hated rail had +been crossed and the corner turned on the broad smooth avenue. It was a +nervous sort of a drive even then, for the horses had a torrent of +pent-up strength, and had not so entirely recovered from their terror +but that they were listening to every sound, looking right and left for +suspicious objects, and apparently on the _qui vive_ for an excuse for +running away. How Theodore blessed Rick, and the livery stable, and the +man who fifty years before had taken for his motto: "Learn everything +you possibly can about everything that can be learned," as with skillful +hand he guided the fidgety span carefully and safely through the maze of +cart and carriage and omnibus wheels that lined the streets. And even +then and there he laughed a half-nervous, half-amused laugh, as he +passed the Euclid House, and saw one of the waiters looking out at him +from a dining-room window; at the thought that that first burning +ambition of his life was at last gratified, and he was actually +occupying the coveted position of driver for the Hastings' carriage. The +contrasts which his life presented again struck him oddly, a few moments +after, when Mr. Hall, waiting to cross the street, recognized and +touched his hat to him, with a wondering, curious glance. Mr. Hall was +an elder in their church and superintendent of their Sabbath-school, and +Theodore had himself cashed a draft for him in Mr. Stephens' private +office not two hours before. He laughed a little now at the thought of +Mr. Hall's bewilderment over his sudden change of business; and then +presently laughed again at the thought that there should be anything +incongruous in his, Tode Mall that was, turning coachman. At last the +carriage turned into the beautiful elm-lined carriage drive that led to +the Hastings' mansion, and drew up presently with a skillful flourish at +the side door. The same John for whom Theodore used occasionally to run +of errands for two cents a trip came forward, and stared furiously as +the young man threw him the reins and opened the carriage door. + +Dora's composure had lost itself in a fit of trembling, and her teeth +chattered so that she could not speak as he led her up the broad flight +of steps. They were all in the hall--Mr. Hastings, hat in hand, just +departing for the stables; Mrs. Hastings, in a state of transit from +dining-room to drawing-room; and Pliny lounging on a sofa, his head done +up in wet bandages. He sprang to his feet, however, when Theodore +advanced still supporting his companion, and questioned eagerly: + +"What the dickens is to pay?" + +That gentleman chose to make things more comfortable before he answered. +He unceremoniously appropriated sofa and cushions for the almost +fainting girl, and said, peremptorily: + +"Bring a glass of water. Mr. Hastings, that fan if you please. Don't be +alarmed, Mrs. Hastings, she will be all right in a few moments." + +Then there was no resisting the storm of questions that followed, and he +told the story as briefly as possible, only trying to impress one +thought, that liquor was at the bottom of what had so nearly been a +tragedy. Dora revived sufficiently to impress the fact that but for +_him_ she would not have been there to speak; and Mr. Hastings, in his +excitement and exasperation against poor Jonas, whose quarter paid for +the liquor which had almost brought death into their home, and would +help to swell Mr. Hastings' own cash account on this Saturday evening, +recognized in this deliverer of his child poor, ignorant, degraded Tode +Mall, and forgot the lapse of time and possible changes of position, and +seeking to do him honor, and do a safe thing for his family at the same +time, spoke hurriedly: + +"Where is that villain of a coachman? I'll discharge him this very hour. +You must be a good driver, Tode, or you never could have got here alive +with _those_ horses after such a time. Don't you want the position of +coachman?" + +"Papa," said Dora, sitting erect, and with scarlet cheeks, "Mr. Mallery +is Mr. S. S. Stephens' confidential clerk!" + +Then the great man turned and looked on his ex-waiter at the Euclid +House--the erect, well-built, well-dressed young man, standing hat in +hand, with a curious blending of dignity and amusement on his face, and +actually stammered, and muttered something about "not noticing, not +thinking, not meaning, and everlasting obligations," in the midst of +which the ex-coachman glanced at his watch, noticed the lateness of the +hour in some dismay, signaled from the window a passing car, and +hurriedly made his escape. + +This lengthy and unexpected interruption made a grievous tangle in his +day's work. Arrived at the store he flew about in eager haste, and then +rushed with more than usual speed to the bank. Just five minutes too +late; the last shutter was being closed as he reached the steps. "The +first failure!" he said to himself in a disappointed tone. "But it can +hardly be said to be my fault this time." His next engagement was an +appointment to dine with Mr. Stephens at four o'clock, and with that, +too, he was a little behind time. + +"Well, sir," said Mr. Stephens, meeting him in the hall, "as sure as I'm +alive you are five minutes behind time! I begin to be encouraged. It +seems that you _are_ a compound of flesh and blood after all." + +Theodore smiled faintly; his peril was too recent for him to have +regained his usual demeanor. + +"Here is your mail," he said, passing over a handful of letters and +papers. "By being ten minutes late I was enabled to get the latest news, +and I see there is a Lyons letter among them." + +"Ah," said Mr. Stephens, "that is fortunate for Lyons. Suppose we step +into the library, Mallery, and see what they say for themselves." + +So the two passed into the business room and ran over the contents of +the letter in question, as well as several others, conversing together +in a manner which showed that the younger man had a marked knowledge of +the other's business affairs, and that his opinions were listened to as +if they carried weight with them. + +"But the mail was not what detained me," said Theodore, presently. "And +Mr. Stephens, I was too late for the bank." + +"Well, it will do to-morrow, will it not?" queried the elder gentleman, +composedly. + +"Oh yes, sir, it will _do_; but then you know it is not the way in which +we do business." + +Mr. Stephens laughed. + +"I used to consider myself the most prompt and particular man living," +he said, gaily; "but I believe you are going to make one several notches +above me. I am really curious to know what has thrown you out of your +orbit this afternoon." + +Theodore's face flushed. + +"I have been permitted to prevent a murder this afternoon, even after a +father had furnished the weapons for his daughter's destruction," he +said, speaking sharply. He was very savage on that question of +intemperance. + +"Horrible!" said Mr. Stephens, looking aghast. "Mallery, what _do_ you +mean?" + +And then followed a recital of the afternoon's adventures. Had Theodore +Mallery been the hero of a first-class novel he would have remained +modestly and obstinately silent about a matter in which he had taken so +prominent a part, but being very like a flesh and blood young man, it +did not occur to him to hesitate or stammer--in fact he thought he had +succeeded in doing a good brave deed, and he was very glad and thankful. +Presently they left the library and went toward the parlor. + +"Do you know I have another guest to-day?" asked Mr. Stephens, as they +went down the hall together. "A Mr. Ryan, a lawyer. I think you are not +acquainted with him." + +"Ryan!" said Theodore, looking puzzled and racking his memory. "The name +sounds familiar, but--oh!" and then he laughed, "Edgar Ryan?" + +"The same. Do you know him?" + +"Why, yes, sir. I used to know him very well; served him every day at +the Euclid House." + +"Did you indeed! Well, I know very little about him, save that his +father was a good friend to me once." + +When Mr. Stephens presented his confidential clerk to Mr. Ryan there was +a start, a look of bewilderment and confused recollection, accompanied +by a sudden roguish twinkle of recognition, and then the polished lawyer +became oblivious to the existence of "Tode Mall," and "Habakkuk," and +"bottles," and greeted "Mr. Mallery" in a manner that became a guest of +Mr. Stephens, toward Mr. Stephens' honored clerk. Then they all went out +to dinner. And the dinner progressed finely until the coffee and dessert +were served, and Mr. Stephens had dismissed the waiters and prepared for +a half-way business talk; then suddenly his clerk gave a quick nervous +push from him of the plate on which quivered a tiny mound of jelly, its +symmetry destroyed by just one mouthful, and the crimson blood rolled to +his very forehead. His confusion was too apparent and continued to admit +of being overlooked, and Mr. Stephens asked, with a mixture of curiosity +and anxiety: + +"What is the trouble, Mallery?" + +"Mr. Stephens," said Theodore, earnestly with just a little tremble of +pain in his voice, "you have made me disregard for the first time in my +life the only prayer that my mother ever prayed for me." + +Mr. Stephens, who knew the story of his life, looked bewildered and +troubled, and said gently; "I don't understand, Theodore;" while Mr. +Ryan's eyes had the roguish twinkle in them again, because he did +understand. + +Theodore silently inclined his head toward the rejected plate. + +"Oh," said Mr. Stephens, looking relieved, "do you object to the wine +jelly? Why, my dear boy, isn't that almost straining a point? I don't +understand the art of interfering with cookery." + +"This is an excellent opportunity for me," began Mr. Ryan. "I've been +wishing enlightenment for a long time on an abstruse question connected +with the temperance theory. Mr. Mallery, you are a stanch upholder of +the cause, I believe. May I question you?" + +Theodore had regained his composure, and was quietly sipping his coffee. + +"You may, sir, certainly," he said, playfully. "I believe nothing is +easier than to ask questions. Whether I can answer them or not is, of +course, another matter." + +Mr. Ryan laughed. + +"But you used to be, or that is--well, something leads me to think that +you are one of the Bible temperance men. Are you not?" + +Theodore fixed a pair of full, earnest, unashamed eyes on the +questioner's face before he said: + +"Yes, sir, I entirely agree with Habakkuk on that subject to-day as in +the past." + +"Well then," said Mr. Ryan, dashing into the subject, "I'm in need of +enlightenment. Isn't there a story in the Bible about a certain wedding, +at which our Savior countenanced the use of wine not only by his +presence, but by actually furnishing the wine itself by his own +miraculous power?" + +"There _is_ such a story," said Theodore, continuing to quietly sip his +coffee. + +"Well, how do you account for it?" + +"I suppose, sir, you know how great and good men account for it?" +questioned Theodore. + +"Oh yes, I know the story by heart, about two kinds of wine--one +intoxicating, the other _not_, and that this wine at the marriage feast +was of the non-intoxicating sort; but that at best is only supposition, +not argument. I have as good a right to suppose it _was_ intoxicating as +you have to suppose it was not." + +"Have you?" said Theodore, with elevated eyebrows. "In that we should +differ." + +"Then that is the very point upon which I need enlightenment," answered +Mr. Ryan, with a good-humored laugh. "Won't you please proceed?" + +"I presume you grant, sir, that it is not superstition but _certainty_ +that there _were_ two kinds of wine in those days," said Theodore. + +"Oh yes. I'll accept that as fact." + +"Well, then, as I am not a Greek nor Hebrew scholar, and I understand +that you are, I will simply remind you of the very satisfactory and +generally accepted statements of learned men concerning the two words +used in those languages to express two distinct kinds of liquid, which +words were not, I am told, used interchangeably. Then I should like to +pass at once to simpler, and, for unlearned people like myself, more +practical arguments. Do you lawyers allow your authors to interpret +themselves, sir?" + +"Certainly." + +"Which is precisely what we do with the Bible. In a sense, the same +Jesus who made wine of water at the marriage feast, is the author of the +Bible, and if he is divine there must be no discrepancy in its pages. +Now I find that this same Bible says, 'Wine is a mocker,' 'Look not +upon the wine when it is red,' 'Woe to him that giveth his neighbor +drink,' and a long array of similar and more emphatic expressions. Now +how am I to avoid thinking either that Jesus of Nazareth was a mere man, +and a very inconsistent one at that, or else that the wine at the +marriage supper was _not_ the wine with which we are acquainted, and +which we will not use at all until 'it giveth its color in the cup and +moveth itself aright?'" + +Mr. Ryan laughed still good-humoredly, and said: + +"Have you committed to memory the entire Bible as well as Habakkuk, +Mallery? But I can quote Scripture, too. Doesn't your Bible read, 'Give +wine to those that be of heavy hearts?'" + +"Yes, sir; and, according to our translation, the same article is used +as a symbol of God's wrath: 'For thus saith the Lord God of Israel, Take +the wine cup of this fury at my hand.' Does that look probable or +reasonable? It talks, moreover, about 'wine that maketh glad the heart +of man,' and I leave it to your judgment whether we know anything about +any such wine as that?" + +"But, Mallery," interposed Mr. Stephens, "I want to question you now +myself. I am a genuine temperance man I have always supposed. I accord +with everything that you have said on the subject, and still I don't +believe I see the connection between wine drinking and using the article +as a condiment, or in my cakes and jellies." + +"Well, sir," said Theodore, turning toward him brightly, "the same Bible +reads: 'If meat maketh my brother to offend, I will eat no more meat +while the world stands;' and if we are to interpret the Bible according +to its spirit, why doesn't it read with equal plainness; 'If wine maketh +my brother to offend--'" + +"But you surely do not think that an appetite for wine drinking can be +cultivated from an innocent jelly?" + +Theodore looked in grave surprise at his questioner as he said: + +"That remark proves, sir, that you were not brought up in the atmosphere +which surrounded my younger days, and also that you were never one of +the waiters at the Euclid House; but that it takes much less than that +to cultivate, or worse, to arouse an already cultivated appetite, I +believe all trustworthy statements that have ever been made on the +subject will bear me witness. Mr. Ryan, if you were a reformed drunkard, +seated at this table, would you dare to eat that wine jelly?" + +Mr. Ryan spoke dryly, laconically, but distinctly: + +"No." + +Theodore turned to Mr. Stephens again. + +"'And the second is like unto it,'" he said, speaking low and gently. +"'Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.'" + +"But my neighbor isn't here," answered Mr. Stephens, playfully. "At +least not the reformed drunkard of whom you speak; if he were I would be +careful." + +"But if you meet him on the street to-night," answered Theodore, in the +same manner, "don't, I beg of you, say anything to him about his evil +habits, because he may ask you if you neither touch, taste nor handle +the accursed stuff; and while you are trying to stammer out some excuse +for your condiments, he might suggest to you that you use the poison in +your way and he uses it in his, and there is many a brain that can not +see the difference between the two; in which case it seems to me to +become the old story, 'If meat maketh my brother to offend.'" + +Mr. Stephens laughed. + +"He ought to have been a lawyer instead of a merchant. Don't you think +so, Ryan?" he asked, glancing admiringly at the flushed young face. + +"I told him so several years ago," said Mr. Ryan. + +Theodore was roused and excited; he could not let the subject drop. + +"I can conceive of another reason why a good man should not harbor such +serpents in disguise," he said, in the pleasant, half-playful tone which +the conversation had latterly assumed. + +"Let us have it by all means," answered Mr. Stephens. "I am +court-martialed, I perceive and may as well have all the shots at once." + +"Why, sir, what possible right can you have to beguile an innocent youth +like myself to your table, and tempt his unsuspecting ignorance with a +quivering bit of jelly which, had he known its ingredients, such are his +principles and his resolves, and I may add such is his horror of the +fiend, that he would almost rather have had his tongue plucked out by +the roots than to have touched it?" + +The sentence, began playfully, was finished in terrible earnestness, +with trembling voice and quivering lip. There was no concealing the fact +that this subject in all its details was a solemn one to him. Mr. +Stephens watched for a moment the flushed earnest face. This man without +wife or children, without home other than his wealth and his housekeeper +furnished him, was fast taking his confidential clerk into his inner +heart. He looked at him a moment, then glanced down at the table. Mr. +Ryan's dish of jelly and his own still remained untouched. He spoke +impulsively: + +"Ryan, are you partial to that ill-fated dish beside you?" + +"Not at all," answered that gentleman, laughingly. "I have conceived +quite a horror for the quivering, suspicious-looking lump." + +Then Mr. Stephens' hand was on the bell. + +"Thompson," he said to the servant who answered his summons, "you may +remove the jellies." And the brisk waiter looked startled and confused +as he proceeded to obey the order. + +"They are all right," explained Mr. Stephens, kindly, "only we have +decided to dispense with them." And as the door closed upon the +retreating servant the host added, turning to Theodore: + +"I will dispense with them as regards my table from this time forth. +This is my concession to your beloved cause." + +Such a bright glad look of thanks and admiration and love as his young +clerk bestowed upon him in answer to this Mr. Stephens never forgot. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +THE "THREE PEOPLE" MEET AGAIN. + + +It is not to be supposed, because nothing has been said of intervening +days, that the events recorded in the last two chapters followed each +other in quick succession. In reality, when Theodore Mallery bought his +first suit of ready-made clothing he had been but a very short time in +his new place of business, but when the perilous railroad carriage drive +was taken with the Hastings' carriage he had been Mr. Stephens' +confidential clerk for three years, and was as much trusted and as +promptly obeyed as was Mr. Stephens himself. He allowed a reasonable +length of time to elapse after that momentous drive, and then one +evening availed himself of Dora Hastings' cordial invitation to call. +This was an attempt which he had never made before. Although he had gone +somewhat into society since that memorable first evening at his +pastor's house, yet the society in which he had grown most familiar, +namely: that connected with his beloved church and Sabbath-school, was +not the society in which Miss Hastings more generally mingled. This and +her frequent and prolonged absences from the city, combined, perhaps, +with other and minor causes, were the reasons why they had not again met +socially; and, beyond an occasional bow as they passed each other in the +church aisle, they had been as strangers to each other; this until the +dangerous ride taken together. Then, as I said, after a little Theodore +rang at the Hastings' mansion, had a peep of Dora sitting at the window, +a peep of Mr. Hastings composedly pacing the length of the room, and +after waiting what seemed to him an unreasonably long time for answer to +his card, was courteously informed that the family were "not at home!" +This was the great man's gratitude for the preservation of his +daughter's life! He _was_ grateful--was willing to make the young man +his coachman, and to pay him in money; but he was not willing to receive +him in his parlor on an equal social footing, for who knew better than +he from what depths of poverty and degradation the young upstart had +sprung! Theodore did not look very grave; he even laughed as he turned +and ran lightly down the granite steps; and he was pleased but not +surprised when a few days thereafter he met Dora on the square, and she +stopped and frankly and distinctly disclaimed any complicity in her +father's uncourteous act, or sympathy with his feelings. And there once +more the matter dropped. + +On this evening, four weeks after the call, Theodore was walking rather +rapidly toward his home; he had been spending the evening with Jim +McPherson; the old stand had been enlarged and beautified, until now it +was a very marvel of taste and elegance. Jim had evidently found his +level or his hight. Theodore still retained his interest in the +business, and guided it skillfully by a word of advice now and then. +This evening of which I speak had been an eventful one. After a running +commentary on the business in general, and the business of that day in +particular, the talk had turned into another channel, and went on after +this fashion: + +"Do you know you are a kind of a standing marvel to me?" Theodore +questioned. + +"No," answered Jim, laughing. "Hadn't an idea of such a thing. I knew +that you had been a _walking_ marvel to me ever since I first laid eyes +on you at the Euclid House; but I thought _I_ was a commonplace kind of +an individual who astonished nobody. Enlighten me." + +"Why," said Theodore, "you're such a square out-and-out honorable +business man; as particular to be honest in trifles as in greater sums; +as careful to render just exactly every man his due as it is possible to +be." + +"And that surprises you, does it? Much obliged." And Jim spoke in a +laughing tone, but with a bright flush on his face. + +"No, the marvel doesn't come in there," his companion had returned with +gravity; "but in the fact that one so particular with his fellow-man +should ignore or forget the obligations under which he is bound to +render account for every day's work in the sight of God." + +"How do you know that I do forget?" + +"Because I know you to be _so_ honest and honorable, that if you gave +this matter thought and weight, its reasonableness would so press itself +upon you that you would not even _try_ to shake it off." + +"How do you know that I _do_ try?" + +"My dear friend," said Theodore, tenderly, "how can I help knowing when +I know so well the love of Christ for you, his yearning over you, and +the fact that your mother's prayers are constantly going up for you, and +yet that you still slight such love?" + +"But how do you know that last to be a fact?" + +"My dear Jim, if you were not you would be a praying man, a Christian." + +"And I still ask, how do you know that I am not? Is my life so at +variance with the principles of the gospel that you can not doubt it?" + +Theodore turned eager, searching eyes upon his friend's face, and +questioned tremulously: + +"_Are_ you a praying man, Jim?" + +"I do hope and trust that I am." + +The reply came in firm, clear tones, with a sort of undertone of solemn +triumph in them; and Theodore rose suddenly, and going around to his +side clasped hands with him in token of a new bond of fellowship, and +his voice was husky as he said: + +"My dear brother, forgive me for taking for granted that your position +on this subject was unchanged because you did not choose to tell me so; +but why did you not? Oh, if I _could_ tell you how I have longed and +prayed for this." + +"I know it," said Jim, holding the proffered hand in a hearty grasp. "I +have been wrong in that respect; but I felt so weak, so doubtful at +times, so afraid of making blunders, that I thought it best to keep +quiet, and if my life could not speak for me then it would be because +there was nothing to speak. But I was at prayer-meeting last evening; +sat over in the seat by the door. I heard what you said, and I came to +the conclusion that the Lord had lighted my candle for me, and that I +had hidden it away under a bushel as if I were ashamed of it; and I have +been planning all day how to bring it out from the shadow and have it +shine." + +You may imagine that the rest of that evening was blessed to those two +young men. Those of you who by experience know any thing about it will +understand how Theodore believed that he could never hear words more +blessed than those which Jim spoke to him as they shook hands for +good-night. + +"Least of all, my dear fellow, should I have hid the story from you, for +from the first to the last you have been the means, under God, of my +finding him; and, Mallery, one of the longest strides I ever took toward +the 'strait gate' was that evening when you almost _made_ me sign the +pledge. Oh, we have a new name to our roll. Did I tell you? Mr. Ryan." + +"Not the lawyer?" + +"Yes, the lawyer. Boards at the Euclid House, you know; signed at our +last meeting. _You_ had something to do with that, hadn't you? He said +something to me in that queer way he has about meeting Habakkuk not long +ago, and finding that he had added the whole Bible to his bottle +argument." + +And so it was that Theodore did not go yet after all, but sat down again +to discuss this new delight. + +And thus it came to pass that he was walking rapidly down town at rather +a late hour, and overtook two persons who were stumbling and muttering +along the now nearly deserted street. + +"Poor wretches," he said to himself; "poor miserable wretches! I wonder +whether the rum-hole that sent them out in this condition was gilded and +glittering, or was a veritable cellar stripped of its disguise? This is +what I used to fear for Jim, the splendid fellow! I never half did him +justice. What a boy, though, not to tell his mother. I wonder who the +dear old saint will take up for her 'most special subject' now? Jim and +Rick both gathered in. It will be Winny with twofold earnestness now, I +presume. Oh, the mansions are filling up, and I thank God that he is +letting me help to fill them. But who will I take now?" + +"Le me lone," interrupted one of the poor drunkards, giving his +companion a vigorous push, "I can walk without your help, I guess; pity +if I couldn't!" + +"Suppose," continued Theodore to his inner self; "suppose I should take +that poor fellow who is leaning against the post? God's mercy is great +enough for him. I want somebody to bring as a thank-offering for Jim and +Rick--yes, and for Mr. Ryan, too. I believe I'll choose him. I'll find +out who he is, and follow him up, with the Lord's help, until he chooses +one of the many mansions for himself. How shall I go to work to discover +who he is and where he belongs? I really doubt his knowledge of either +subject just at present." + +Then the man embracing the post spoke for the first time. + +"What you s'pose ails this confounded lamp-post? Won't stand still; +whirls round like a wind-mill or a church-steeple, or suthin. B'lieve +it's drunk, sure's you live." + +Something in the manner, in the tones, thick and foolish and unnatural +though they were, brought Theodore to a full stop before the poor +fellow, and caused him to look eagerly in the upturned face, while the +blood surged violently through his veins. + +"Drunk!" returned the less intoxicated companion, contemptuously. +"You're drunk yourself, that's what's the matter. You better come on now +and let that lamp-post stay where it is. I ain't going to drag you both +home, I reckon." + +Meantime Theodore laid a firm steady hand on the arm of the drunken man, +and spoke in a low quiet tone, "Pliny," for he had too surely +recognized the voice, and knew now beyond the shadow of a doubt that the +"poor wretch" in question was Pliny Hastings, and that his drunken +companion was the old friend of his boyhood, Ben. Phillips. So these +three, whose lives had commenced on the same day of time, had crossed +each other's paths once more. With very little effort he persuaded the +poor bewildered fellow to desert his whirling post, and a carriage +returning empty from the midnight train came at his call, and the three +were promptly seated therein, and the order given by Theodore, +No.--Euclid Avenue. A strange ride it was for him. His companions sang +and yelled and quarreled by turns, until at last the sleepy stage came +upon them, and this but for one thing was a relief. It had been no part +of his plan to be seen by any dweller in the Hastings' mansion that +night; but if this man was to be an utterly helpless log how could he +help it? However, he comforted himself with the thought that a servant +was probably in waiting, and that they could get him quickly and quietly +to his room. So when the carriage rolled up the avenue and halted before +the door, he sprang out, and once more rang the bell and awaited +admittance to Hastings' Hall. He had not long to wait; he heard the +night-latch click sharply, and a moment thereafter the door swung open, +and he confronted not a servant but Dora, looking nearly as white and +quite as grave as she had on the day of the ride. + +"Dora!" he said, in his surprise and alarm. "Why, is it you? Where is +your father?" + +"Papa is in his room. Is it Pliny, Mr. Mallery?" + +"Yes," said Theodore, gently. "Don't be alarmed, Miss Hastings, he is +not injured; he--it is--" + +Dora interrupted him. + +"I understand but too well, Mr. Mallery. Is he unconscious--asleep, or +what?" + +"Asleep," answered Theodore, briefly, feeling that words were worse than +useless. + +"Then could you--could we _possibly_ get him to his room without the +knowledge of any one? If we _only could_." + +"We will try," the brief reply breathing sympathy and pity in every +tone. "Have you a servant whom you can trust?" + +Dora shook her head in distress. + +"There isn't a servant up but John, and papa rang for him not five +minutes ago." + +"Never mind then--I know the driver; he is trustworthy. Be prepared to +show us the way to his room, Miss Hastings." + +Swift and quiet were their movements. The driver, one of the wisest of +his set, seemed to comprehend the situation by instinct, and trod the +halls and stairs as though his feet had been shod in velvet. He was a +strong man, too, and between them they carried the slight effeminate +form with ease and laid him upon the elegant bed in his elegant room, he +still sleeping the heavy drunken sleep which Dora had learned to know so +well. + +She stood now in the hall with compressed lips and one hand pressing the +throbbing veins in her forehead, waiting while Theodore turned down and +shaded the gas, and arranged the sleeper's head in a more comfortable +position on the pillow. He had with a brief low-spoken sentence +dismissed his helper the moment they had deposited their burden on the +bed. Presently he came out into the hall, and closing the door behind +him followed Dora lightly and swiftly down the stairs. Not a word passed +between them until he stood with his hand on the night-latch; then he +said: + +"Can I serve you in any way to-night, Miss Hastings?" + +The reply was irrelevant but very earnest: + +"Mr. Mallery, I do not know how to thank you for this night's kindness." + +"There is no need of thanks," he said, gently. "Take heart of grace, +Miss Hastings. God helping us we will save him yet. I had selected him +for my subject of special pleading before I knew who he was." + +Dora's white lips quivered a little. + +"Then there are two to pray for him!" she said, eagerly. + +"Yes, and 'if two of you shall agree'--you know. Good-night." + +He had one more hard task to perform. The carriage was waiting, and the +other drunken son must be conveyed to his father's house. A few moments +of rapid driving brought them to the modest white house, with its green +blinds, one of them with the slats turned so that the pale tearful +watcher at the window could see the carriage, and before Theodore had +time to ring the door was unbolted, and this time it was a gray-haired +father who received them. Grim and silent was he, but ever and anon as +they were passing up the stairs they heard a low heart-rending moan from +the poor mother, who had left the window and buried her head among the +cushions of the sofa. Theodore knew nothing about the sweet sleeping +baby who had nestled so cozily in the great rocking-chair twenty-three +years before; but the mother did, and had lived to understand that had +her precious baby Benny slept the sleep that knows no waking when in his +infancy, it would have been infinitely better than the stupor of body +and brain that held him now. + +"Young man," said Mr. Phillips, as they reached the outer door again, "I +don't know who you are, but I am thankful that you have saved us from +any further disgrace by bringing him home. God grant that this night's +work may be a warning to you, and that you may never need such +disgraceful help for yourself." + +He evidently mistook Theodore for one of the boon companions of his son. +The driver, overhearing the remark, chuckled softly, and remarked to +himself: "That's a good one! He's mistook his chap this time, I could +tell him;" but Theodore bowed in respectful silence, and felt a +consuming pity for that heavily stricken father. + +As he entered the carriage the driver volunteered some information. + +"That man sells rum himself, in his grocery over there across the +street, and he fought against the 'no license' petition like a wild +tiger last fall." + +"Drive me home now, please," said Theodore aloud, in answer to this; and +to himself he said, as he sank wearily among the cushions: "Then I pray +God to have mercy on him, and not make his judgment heavier than he can +bear." + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +MRS. JENKINS' TOMMY. + + +There came a low tapping on the green baize door of Mr. Stephens' +private office. "Come," said Mr. Stephens from within, and a clerk +entered. + +"Is Mr. Mallery in, sir? There is a queer looking personage in the store +who insists upon seeing him." + +"Mallery," said Mr. Stephens, turning his head slightly, and addressing +an individual farther back behind a high desk, "are you engaged?" + +"Nine seventy-two--one moment, Mr. Stephens--nine eighty-one, nine +ninety, one thousand. Now, sir, what is it?" and in a moment thereafter +Mr. Mallery emerged. The clerk repeated his statement. + +"Very well," said Theodore, "I'll be out in one moment." He still held +the package of one thousand dollars which he had just counted in his +hand. "There is your money, Mr. Stephens," he said, laying it down as +the outer door closed on them. + +"All right, is it?" + +"All right." + +"What have you done with the rest?" + +"Locked it up." + +"And the key?" + +"In my pocket. Do you wish it, sir?" + +"No," said Mr. Stephens, smiling. "Did you ever forget anything in your +life, Theodore? I did not think you had time to turn a key before you +came out." + +"I turned it nevertheless," answered Theodore, significantly. "You know +I don't trust that young man, sir." + +"Not yet?" + +"No, sir." + +"Well, I hope and trust that time will prove you wrong and me right." + +"I hope so, certainly," answered Theodore, dryly. + +"But you don't believe it." And Mr. Stephens laughed a little as he +added: "Now, Mallery, if you _should_ happen to be mistaken this time!" + +Theodore answered him only by a grave smile as he went out of the room. +It was a busy spot outside--clerks and cash boys were flying hither and +thither, and customers were many and impatient. Making his way through +the crowd, bowing here and there to familiar faces, Theodore sought for +the person who awaited him. + +"A queer looking personage," the clerk had said, and over by one of the +windows stood a meek-faced old woman, attired in a faded dress and +shawl, and a rather startling bonnet as regarded shape. She looked as if +she might be waiting or watching for somebody--at least she was not +looking around with the air of a purchaser, and she was being rudely +jostled every moment by thoughtless people or hurried clerks. Theodore +resolved to discover for himself if this were the one in waiting, and +advanced to her side. + +"Can I do anything for you, madam?" he asked, with as respectful a tone +as he would have used to Miss Hastings herself. + +The woman turned a pair of startled eyes upon him; then seeming to be +reassured, asked suddenly: + +"Be you Mr. Mallery?" + +"That is my name. What can I do for you?" + +The old lady dropped him a very low, very odd little courtesy ere she +answered: + +"And I'm the widow Jenkins, and I've come--well, could I possibly see +you alone for a bit of a moment? My head is kind of confused like with +all this noise and running about; them little boys act as if they was +most crazy anyhow, hopping about all over. I didn't know they allowed no +playing in these big stores; but then you see I'm from the country, and +things is queer all around; but if I only could see you all alone I +wouldn't take a mite hardly of your time." + +"You may come with me," answered Theodore, not stopping to explain the +mystery of the cash boys, and show how very little like play their +hopping about was after all. He led the way to a room opening off the +private office, and giving the old lady one of the leathern arm-chairs, +stood before her, and again inquired kindly: + +"Now what can I do for you?" + +"Well," began Mrs. Jenkins, her voice trembling with eagerness, "it's +about my Tommy. He's the only boy I've got, and I'm a widow, and he +lives at the Euclid House--works there, you know, and sleeps there, and +all; and he's a good-natured, coaxy boy; he kind of wants to do just as +everybody says; and he's promised me time and again that he wouldn't +drink a mite of their stuff that they live on there, and he doesn't mean +to, but they offer it to him, and the other boys they laugh at him, and +kind of lead him along--and the long and short of it is, the habit is +coming on him, Mr. Mallery, coming on fast. I've coaxed Tommy, and he +means all right, only he don't do it; and I've been down there to Mr. +Roberts, and talked to him, and he's just as smooth as glass, and the +difference between him an' Tommy is that he don't mean it at all, not a +word of it, any of the time. I see it in his eyes, and I've tried to +coax Tommy away from there, but he thinks he can't find anything else to +do, and they are good to him there, and he's kind of bent on staying, +and I've done every blessed thing I could think of, and now I am at my +wits' ends." + +And the voluble little woman paused long enough to wipe two glistening +tears from her withered cheeks, while her listener, roused and +sympathetic, asked in earnest tones: + +"And what is it you would like to have me do? Tommy is in danger, that +is evident. I do not wonder that you are alarmed, and I am ready to help +you in any possible way. Have you any plan in view in which you would +like my assistance?" + +Before Mrs. Jenkins answered she bestowed a look of undisguised +admiration on the earnest face before her, as she said: + +"They told me you'd do it. Jim said--says he, 'if that man can't help +you no man can, and if he _can_ he will. He told my Katie that last +night, and I made up my mind to come right straight to you." And then +she dashed eagerly into the important part of her subject. "I've laid +awake nights, and I've thought and thought, and planned. Now that Mr. +Roberts, he's a slippery man, and when you talk to him he says he's +under orders, and he does just as he is directed. Now, according to my +way of thinking, it ain't no ways likely that Mr. Hastings goes and +orders him to feed them boys on rum. But then it flashed on me last +night about that Mr. Hastings--why he must be a good kind of a man, he +give five hundred dollars to the Orphans' Home only last week." + +"He ought to," interrupted Mallery. "He helps to manufacture the +orphans." + +"Well, that's true, too; but then like enough he don't stop and think +what he is about--that's the way with half the folks in this world, +anyhow; he may be willing to kind of help to keep them boys from ruin, +and save his rum at the same time, and I was just thinking if somebody +would just go and have a good kind plain talk with him, like enough he +would promise to send Mr. Roberts word not to let them boys have any +more drink, and that would help along the other boys as well as mine." + +Theodore could scarcely restrain a smile at the poor woman's simple +faith in human nature; he almost dreaded to explain to her how utterly +improbable he felt it to be that Mr. Hastings would listen to any such +plea as the one proposed. + +"Why don't you go to him?" he questioned suddenly, as the eager eyes +were raised to his awaiting his answer. + +"Oh _dear me_!" she answered in consternation, "I should be flustered +all out of my head entirely. I never spoke to such a man in my life. I +shouldn't know what to say at all, and it wouldn't do any good if I did. +Jim, he said if you couldn't do it nobody need try." + +"Jim overestimates my powers in this direction as in all others," +Theodore said, smiling. "I have perhaps less influence with Mr. Hastings +than with any other person, and I haven't the slightest hopes that--" +And here he stopped and listened to his thoughts. "After all," they said +to him, "perhaps you misjudge the man--perhaps he really does not think +what an injury he is doing to those boys simply by his good-natured +carelessness. Suppose you should go to him and state the case plainly? +You really have some curiosity to see how he will meet the question; +besides, it will at least be giving him a chance to do what is right if +the trouble arises from carelessness; and, moreover, how can you be +justified in disappointing this poor old mother? At least it would do no +harm to gratify her, if it did no good." + +"Well," he said aloud, "I will make the attempt, although I am afraid it +will be a failure; but we will try it. I will see Mr. Hastings at the +earliest possible moment, and will do what I can; but, in the meantime, +are you doing _all_ you can for your boy? Do you take him to God in +prayer every day?" + +The mother's eyes drooped, a little flush crept into the faded cheek, a +little silence fell between them, until at last she said with low and +faltering voice: + +"That's a thing I never learned to do. I don't know how to do it for +myself." + +"Then you must remember that there is one all-important thing which you +have left undone. My mother's prayer saved me from a drunkard's life. I +know of no more powerful aid than that." + +Very grave and sorrowful looked the poor mother; evidently she knew +nothing about the compassionate Savior, who was ready and willing to +help her bear her burden. Well for her that the young man in whom she +trusted leaned on an arm stronger than his own. The mother had one more +request to make of him. + +"Could you _possibly_ go to see my Tommy?" she asked, with glistening +eyes. "If you only could know him, and kind of coax him, he would take a +notion to you like enough, and then he would go through fire and water +to please you; he's always so when he takes notions, Tommy is." + +Theodore promised again, and finally walked with the old lady down the +long bewildering store to the very door, and bowed her out, she meantime +looking very happy and hopeful. + +Being familiar of old with the habits of the Euclid House, Theodore +chose next day the hour when he judged that Tommy would be most at +leisure, and sought him out. The landlord was a trifle grayer, decidedly +more portly, but was in other respects the same smooth-tongued, affable +host that he was when Tode Mall ran hither and thither to do his +bidding. Theodore attempted nothing with him further than to beg a few +minutes' chat with Tommy. He was directed to the identical little room +with its patch of red and yellow carpet, upon which he found Tommy +seated, mending a hole in his jacket pocket. + +"So you're a tailor, are you?" asked Theodore, cheerily, seating himself +familiarly on one corner of the little bed, and having a queer feeling +come over him that the room belonged to him, and that Tommy was quite +out of place sitting on his piece of carpet. + +The young tailor looked up and laughed good-humoredly. + +"Queer tailor I'd make!" he said, gaily. "Mother, she does them jobs for +me generally, but this is a special occasion. I've lost ten cents and a +jack-knife to-day, and I reckoned it was time for me to go to work." + +"I used to live here," said Theodore, confidentially. "This was my room. +I used to have the table in that corner though, and I've always intended +to come back here and have a look at the old room, but I never have +until this afternoon." + +Tommy suspended his work, and took a good long look at his visitor +before he asked his next question. + +"Be you the chap who made the row about the bottles?" + +"The very chap, I suspect," answered Theodore, laughing. + +Tommy sewed away energetically before he exploded his next remark. + +"I wish you had _rowed_ them out of this house, I vum I do. Mother, she +don't give me no peace of my life with talkings and cryings, and one +thing and another, and a fellow don't know what to do." + +The subject was fairly launched at last quite naturally, and what was +better still, by Tommy himself; and then ensued a long and earnest +conversation--and in proof that the visit had been productive of one +effect that the mother had hoped for and prophesied, Tommy stood up and +fixed earnest, admiring eyes on his visitor as he was about to leave, +and said eagerly: + +"There isn't much a fellow couldn't do to please you if he should set +out." + +"And how much to please the dear mother, whose only son he is?" answered +Theodore, quickly. + +Tommy's eyes drooped, and his cheeks grew very red. + +"I do mean to," he said at last. "I mean to all over, every day; but the +fellows giggle and--and--well I don't know, it all gets wrong before I +think." + +On the whole Theodore understood his subject very well--a good-natured, +well-meaning, easily-tempted boy, not safe in a house where liquor was +sold or used, _certainly_ not safe where it was freely offered and its +refusal laughed at. He even hesitated about going to Mr. Hastings', so +sure was he that even with the most favorable results from the call, +Tommy would be unsafe in the Euclid House; but then there were other +boys who might be reached in this way, and there was his promise to the +old lady, and there was besides his eager desire to see what Mr. +Hastings would do or say. On the whole he decided to go. + +"I _do_ manage to have the most extraordinary errands to this house," he +soliloquized, while standing on the steps of Hastings' Hall awaiting the +answer to his ring. "I wonder how circumstances will develop this +evening?" + +He had not long to wait; he had taken the precaution to write on his +card under his name, "Special and important business," and Mr. Hastings +stared at it and frowned, and finally ordered his caller to be admitted +to his library. It was in all respects a singular interview. Mr. +Hastings was at first stiffly, and afterward ironically polite; listened +with a sort of sneering courtesy to all that the young man had to say +concerning Tommy and his companions, and when Theodore paused for a +reply delivered himself of the following smooth sentences: + +"This is really the most extraordinary of your many extraordinary ideas, +Mr. Mall--I beg your pardon (referring to the card which he held in his +hand), Mallery, I believe your name is _now_. I did not suppose I was +expected to turn spy, and call to account every drop of wine that +chances to be used in my buildings; it would be such utterly new +business to me that I feel certain of a failure, and _we business_ men, +Mr. Mall, do not like to fail in our undertakings. You really will have +to excuse me from taking part in such a peculiar proceeding. If we have +such a poor weak-minded boy in our employ as you describe, I feel very +sorry for him, and would recommend his mother to take him home and keep +him in her kitchen." + +Theodore arose immediately, and the only discourteous word that he +permitted himself to utter to Dora's father was to say with marked +emphasis: + +"Thank you, Mr. Hastings, I will suggest your advice to Mrs. Jenkins; +and as she is a feeble old lady, I presume if her son becomes a drunkard +and breaks her heart you will see that his sisters are comfortably +provided for in the Orphans' Home. Good-evening, sir." + +"Don Quixote!" Mr. Stephens called him, laughing immensely as his clerk +related the story of his attempt and failure. + +"I only gave him a chance to carry out some of his benevolent ideas, and +save a capable waiter at the same time," answered Theodore, dryly. "But +he is evidently too much engrossed with his Orphans' Home to be alive to +his own interests." + +"So you contemplate a speedy removal of Tommy from the Euclid House, do +you?" said Mr. Stephens, reflectively. + +"Yes, sir. Just as soon as I can secure him a position elsewhere." + +"Can McPherson take him?" + +"Hardly. He has a case now not unlike Tommy's in which he is deeply +interested, and which occupies all his leisure time." + +"Can you make him useful here?" said Mr. Stephens, thoughtfully, +balancing his pen on his finger. + +"Useful? No, sir, I fear not--at least not just at present." + +"Can you keep him busy then?" + +"Yes, sir, certainly." + +"Then send for him," said Mr. Stephens, briefly, resuming his writing. + +Theodore turned suddenly and bestowed a delightful look on his employer +as he said eagerly: + +"If there were only a few more people actuated by your principles we +should need fewer Orphans' Homes." + +"Confound that fellow and his impudence!" said the irate Mr. Hastings, +as he finished detailing an account of Tommy's exit from the Euclid +House under the supervision and influence of Mr. Mallery. + +Pliny glanced up from his dish of soup, and opened his eyes wide in +pretended surprise. + +"One would suppose, sir, that you were not particularly grateful to the +fellow for his rescue of your daughter from an untimely grave," he said, +demurely. + +"Untimely fiddlestick!" was Mr. Hastings' still more irritable reply. +"He thinks he is a hero, and presumes upon it to intrude himself in a +most insufferable manner. I have no doubt Jonas would have got along +without any of his interference." + +Dora's face flushed and then paled, but the only remark she made was: + +"Papa, you ought to have been there to see." + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +MIDNIGHT WORK. + + +"Ting-a-ling-ling," said Mr. Stephens' door-bell just before midnight. +Mr. Stephens glanced up in surprise from the paper which he was studying +and hesitated a moment. Who could be ringing his bell at that late hour? +Presently he stepped out into the hall, slipped the bolt and admitted +Theodore Mallery. The young man followed his employer into the +brightly-lighted library; it was the same room, with the same +furnishings that it had worn that evening when he, a forlorn, trembling +boy, had made his first call, and at midnight, on Mr. Stephens. + +"What unearthly business brought you out at this hour?" said the +wondering Mr. Stephens. + +"Premonitions of evil," answered Theodore, laughing. "Do you believe in +them?" And he glanced about the familiar room, and dropped himself into +the great arm-chair, where he remembered to have seated himself once at +least before. + +"What is the matter with this room?" he asked, as his eyes roved over +the surrounding. "Something looks different." + +"I have been having a general clearing out and turning around of +furniture since you were in--moved the books and rubbish out of that +corner closet for one thing, and prepared it for those closed ledgers. +Good place, don't you think?" + +"Has it strong locks?" asked Theodore, glancing around to the closet in +question. + +"Splendid ones, and is built fire-proof." + +Theodore took in both the lock and the fact that the key was in it. + +"An excellent place for them," he answered. "Is there anything in it +now?" + +"No, empty. What brought you here, Mallery? I hope you have no more work +for me to do to-night. I was just thinking of my bed." + +"A very little, sir. I have those papers ready for your signature, and +it occurred to me if you could add that to-night I could get them off by +the early mail." + +"What an indefatigable plodder you are to get those papers ready so +soon, and an unmerciful man besides to make me go over them to-night. +What will ten or a dozen hours signify?" + +"I don't know," answered Theodore, gravely. "Great results have arisen +from more trivial delays than ten or a dozen hours." Then he looked +straight before him, apparently at the mirror, but really at the closet +door. It was closed when he looked before; it was very slightly ajar +now. Wind? No, there _was_ no wind within reach; it was a surly November +night, and doors and windows were tightly closed. + +"Then there is really no escape for me?" yawned Mr. Stephens, in an +inquiring tone. + +"None whatever," answered Theodore, playfully. "It won't take you half +an hour, sir, and you know it is a very important matter, involving not +only ourselves but others." + +"True," said Mr. Stephens, more gravely. "Well, pass them along." + +And while Theodore obeyed the order, and appeared engrossed in the +papers, he was really watching that closet door. It certainly moved, +very slightly and noiselessly, and it certainly was not the wind, for +the wind had no eyes, and at least one very sharp eye was distinctly +discernible in the mirror, peering out at them from that door! The owner +of the eyes seemed to have forgotten the long mirror, and Theodore's +convenient position for seeing what passed behind him. Whose eye was it? +and why was the possessor of it shut up in that closet? Theodore +watched it stealthily and sharply. It grew bolder, and the door was +pushed open a little more, a _very_ little, just enough to reveal the +shape of the forehead and a few curls of black hair. Then suspicion +became certainty--they belonged to the young man whom he had disliked +and distrusted since the day in which he had first entered the employ of +Mr. Stephens, six months before. Very strange and just a little +unreasonable had seemed his distrust. Mr. Stephens had tried sober +argument and good-humored raillery by turns to convince his confidential +clerk that he was prejudiced. All to no purpose. Theodore could give no +tangible reasons for his unwavering opinion; but his early living by his +wits, among all sorts of people, had so sharpened his ideas that he felt +almost hopelessly certain that a villain was being harbored among them. +Now while he tried to answer coherently Mr. Stephens' questions, he was +thinking hard and nervously what was to be done. What was the man's +object in hiding at midnight in his employer's house? Was Mr. Stephens' +life in danger? Was the man a murderer, or simply a thief? What did he +know of their private affairs? What had Mr. Stephens in his house that +proved a special temptation? How should he get all these questions +answered? The hot blood surged to his very temples as he remembered Mr. +Stephens' departure from the store that very afternoon with twenty +thousand dollars for deposit. What if for some reason the deposit had +not been made, and was still in Mr. Stephens' possession--in this very +room perhaps! He remembered with a shiver that the young man in question +was in the private office during the making up of the money package, and +that Mr. Stephens talked freely before him, that they had gone out +together, that Mr. Stephens had directed his clerk to walk down to the +bank with him while he gave certain orders for the next day's business. +Should he risk a bold question and so discover the truth in regard to +the deposit, and perhaps at the same time discover to the thief its +present whereabouts? He saw no other way, and feeling that he had little +time to lose plunged into the question. + +"By the way, Mr. Stephens, was the deposit all right?" + +Mr. Stephens glanced up quickly. + +"What possessed you to ask that troublesome question?" he said, +laughingly. + +"Natural curiosity, sir. Were you in time?" + +"I am almost afraid to answer you," said Mr. Stephens, still laughing, +"lest you will put me under lock and key at once as a person suspected +of insanity. If I must confess, though, I stopped with Winters ten +minutes to introduce him to the new librarian at the reading-room, and +thereby _just_ lost my chance at the bank." + +Theodore promptly controlled the shiver that ran through his frame. +Winters, in the closet there, probably knew the facts, and all others +connected with the money, as well as Mr. Stephens did. He spoke in his +usual tone. + +"What did you do with the money, sir? It was not in the safe when I +closed it for the night?" + +"That I suppose is the very wickedest of all my wicked deeds. I was too +thoroughly tired, besides being too hurried, to tramp back to the store. +I came near intrusting the bundle to Winters to take back, but I had +respect for your ugly prejudices, and concluded to make a safe of my own +house for one night." + +For an instant Theodore hesitated. Should he risk the possibility of +giving the inmate of the closet the information which he did not already +possess by asking what had been done with the money? His precaution was +in vain. Mr. Stephens continued his confession: + +"I've locked it up though, _double_ locked it indeed, over in that iron +box, and put the key belonging to the box on the shelf in that closet +and locked _them_ up. Shall I bury that key in the cellar now?" + +Now indeed Theodore's face paled. _Could_ anything be more fearfully +arranged? He asked but one more question: + +"Where _is_ the key now?" + +"_Here_ in my pocket; and I declare I'll deliver it over to you for safe +keeping. I shall feel ten degrees less wicked." + +Theodore reached out his hand mechanically for the key, and turned it +over in cold fingers. Then a skeleton key had been used, for there was +the key in the lock at this moment. Winters must have been startled into +his retreat by some sudden noise, and have forgotten to remove the +evidence of his perfidy. Rapidly were several schemes turned over in his +mind. Should he walk over that way and attempt to lock the closet? No, +for then in view of all the conversation that had just occurred Winters +was sharp enough to know that he had been discovered, and desperate +enough, Theodore believed, to do anything. There was room enough in the +closet for two, or indeed three men, and perhaps the villain had +accomplices. Could he propose to Mr. Stephens that they carry the strong +box to his private room? No, for that would give the thief a chance to +escape if he chose through the library window; the same thing might +occur if he enticed Mr. Stephens from the room and told him the story. +Winters might suspect, was undoubtedly armed and ready for any desperate +action. All these thoughts flashed through Theodore's brain while Mr. +Stephens was reading down one page, and ere the leaf was turned he had +decided on his plan of action. + +"Mr. Stephens," he said, speaking in his usual tone, and rising as he +spoke, "I have a little matter of business just around the corner from +here, which I think I will attend to while you are reading those +papers." + +Mr. Stephens glanced up and laughed. + +"I will recommend you for one of the night police," he said, gayly. "You +have business at all hours of the night in all imaginable places." + +Meantime Theodore had been taking in the position of the strong box, and +decided that he could get a nearer view of it without exciting the +suspicion of Winters in the closet. It was, as he feared, unlocked and +empty! Now at all hazards the thief must not be suffered to escape. + +"I will take your night-key, Mr. Stephens," said Theodore, quietly, "and +let myself in without ringing on my return." + +A moment more and he stood alone on the granite steps. The night was +still and gloomy, the moon gave only a fitful glimmering now and then +as it peeped from between heavy clouds, the air was sharp and piercing, +but the young man on the steps felt in a white heat as he waited in +breathless anxiety for the advent of a policeman. + +One thing he had determined upon, not to leave the steps where he stood +guard over the gray-haired unsuspicious man inside. There was no telling +how soon Winters might weary of his cramped quarters, and attempt to +escape by first shooting his employer. Would the policeman never come? +He heard steps and voices in the distance. + +"Come out here, old moon, and give a fellow a little light on the +subject. What you pouting about, I'd like to know? You haven't got to +blunder along home in the dark. This is the most extraordinary street I +ever saw anyhow; it keeps whirling round and turning somersaults, +instead of walking straight ahead like a respectable street." + +The voice that uttered these disjointed sentences was only too well +known to Theodore. He stepped down one step and spoke in a low tone: + +"Pliny, what does this mean? Where are you going?" + +"Going round like a top, first on my head and then on my heels. How are +you?" + +Poor Theodore! the plot thickened. What should he do with this poor +drunkard? Could he endure to let him stagger to his home to that waiting +sister in this condition? A shrill, sharp, merry whistle broke at this +moment on his ear; that voice he knew too, and waited until its owner +came up; then addressed him still in low tones: + +"Tommy, where are you going?" + +"Going home--been to a fire--whole block burned down by the square, Mr. +Stuart's house and--" + +Theodore checked his voluble information. + +"Have you seen anything of McPherson?" + +"Yes, sir; he was at the fire too. Just whisked around the corner below +here to go to his rooms. We came up together." + +Theodore's listening ear caught the sound of an approaching policeman, +and he hastened his plans. Pliny had sunk down on the steps and was +muttering to himself in drunken, broken sentences. + +"Tommy," said Theodore, addressing that individual, "there are empty +carriages coming around the corner; the train is in. Will you take this +young man in a carriage, drive to McPherson's door, and tell him to +drive to my rooms with you, and make this gentleman comfortable till I +come? Can I trust you, Tommy?" + +"Yes, _sir_, every time," Tommy answered, proudly. + +The policeman came up. + +"What's all this?" he asked, gruffly. + +Theodore turned to him and spoke a few words in a low rapid tone, and he +moved hastily away. Then Theodore came back to Pliny. + +"Will you go and spend the night with me at my rooms, Pliny?" he asked, +gently. + +"Well," said Pliny, trying to rouse himself from his half stupor, "I +_did_ promise Doralinda Mirinda that I'd come home, but seeing the +street has taken such a confounded notion to go round and round, why I +guess she will excuse me and I'll oblige you." + +"This boy will call a carriage for you and make you comfortable, and I +will be with you as soon as possible. I have a little business first." + +He gave a little shiver of relief as he saw Pliny stagger quietly away +with Tommy. All this time, and indeed it was but a _very_ little time, +although it seemed hours to the young man whose every nerve was in a +quiver, his ear had been strained ready for the slightest sound that +might occur in the room over which he was keeping guard; but the utmost +quiet reigned. Winters evidently suspected nothing, and was biding his +time. "The villain means to escape hanging if he can," muttered +Theodore, under his breath. + +And now the dim moonlight showed the tall forms of three policemen +approaching. He advanced and held a brief whispered conversation with +them, then the four ascended the steps. Theodore applied his night-key, +and with cat-like tread they moved across the hall, and the library door +swung noiselessly open. They were fairly inside the room before Mr. +Stephens, intent upon his papers, observed them. When he did he sprang +to his feet, with a face on which surprise, bewilderment and +consternation contended for the mastery. "Theodore," he gasped, rather +than said; and it was Mr. Stephens' sorrow ever after that for one +little moment he believed that his almost son had proved false to him. +The next the whole story stood revealed. From the moment that Mr. +Stephens uttered his exclamation all attempt at quietness was laid +aside. A policeman strode across the room, flung wide the closet door, +and said to the cowed and shivering mortal hiding therein, "You are my +prisoner, sir," and from his pocket produced the handcuffs and proceeded +to adjust them, while another disarmed him. Theodore went over and stood +beside the gray-haired startled man. + +"Don't be alarmed, sir," he said, gently and quietly; "the danger is +quite over now. His pockets must be searched," this to the policeman. +"He has twenty thousand dollars about him somewhere that belong to us." + +"My boy," said Mr. Stephens, tremulously, and with utmost tenderness in +his tones, "what does all this mean? How did you learn of it?" + +"By a special providence, I believe, sir," answered Theodore, +reverently. + +Meantime the packages of money were found and in order. + +"Have you special directions, sir, in regard to the prisoner?" +questioned the policeman. + +Mr. Stephens broke away from Theodore's restraining arm and went toward +Winters. + +"My poor, poor boy," he said, compassionately, "how _could_ you do it?" + +Winters' eyes expressed nothing but malignancy as he muttered between +shut teeth: + +"Because I _hate_ you, and that upstart who hoodwinks you." + +Theodore came forward with quiet dignity. + +"Mr. Stephens," he said, laying a gently detaining hand on the +gentleman's arm, "let me manage the rest of the business for you, you +are excited and weary. Secure the man in safe and comfortable quarters +for the night," he added, turning to the policeman, "and you will hear +from Mr. Stephens in the morning." + +Five minutes more and Theodore and Mr. Stephens were left alone in the +library. + +"No explanations to-night," said Theodore, with an attempt at +playfulness, as the other turned toward him with eager questioning eyes. +"I withdraw my prohibition, sir, as regards the papers, and will permit +you to retire at once." + +"One word, Theodore, about the point that troubles me the most What +shall we do with the poor young man?" + +Theodore's face darkened. + +"The very utmost that the law allows," he said, sternly. "He deserves it +all. If you desire my advice on that point I should say--" + +Mr. Stephens interrupted him, laying a quiet hand on his arm and +speaking gently: + +"My boy, suppose you and I kneel down here and pray for him?" + +All the heat and anger died out of Theodore's face. He remembered the +midnight interview which took place years before in that very room, when +Mr. Stephens was the judge and he himself the culprit. He remembered +that at that time Mr. Stephens had knelt down and prayed for _him_. +Reverently now he knelt beside the noble-hearted man, and heard him pour +out his soul in prayer for the "poor boy" who had tried so hard to +injure him. When they arose he turned quiet smiling eyes on his young +friend as he said: + +"My dear boy, can you advise me now?" + +"You do not need advice, sir," said Theodore, speaking somewhat huskily +and with a reverent touch in his voice. "Follow the dictates of your own +noble soul in this as in everything, and you will be sure to do the best +thing." + +It was two o'clock when Theodore applied his own night-key and entered +his front door. The gas was still lighted in the back parlor, and +thither he went. It was not the back parlor that belonged to the little +cottage house near the depot; not the same house at all, but one larger +and finer, and on a handsomer street. The back parlor was nicely, even +luxuriously, furnished with that dainty mixture of elegance and home +comfort which betokens a refined and cultivated taste. Winny had grown +into a tall young lady with coils of smooth brown hair in place of the +crisp locks of her childhood. Her crimson dress set off her clear dark +complexion to advantage. The round table was drawn directly under the +gaslight, and she sat before it surrounded by many beautiful books and +writing material. She glanced up at Theodore's entrance, and he +addressed her in grave business-like tones: + +"Winny, do you know it is two o'clock? You should not study so late at +night under any circumstances." + +"You should not perambulate the streets until morning, and then you +would have no knowledge of my misdemeanors," answered Winny in exactly +the same tone, and added: "What poor drunken wretch have you and Jim in +train to-night?" + +"Is Jim here?" said Theodore, eagerly. + +"Yes, and has been for an hour. He stumbled up stairs with a poor victim +who was unable to walk, and domiciled him in your room. Remarkable +company you seem to keep, Mr. Mallery. Who is the creature?" + +"The heir of Hastings' Hall," said Theodore, briefly and sadly. + +Winny looked both startled and shocked + +"Oh, Theodore! not Pliny Hastings?" + +"Yes, Pliny Hastings. The admiration of half the young ladies in the +city, and they are industriously helping him to be what he is. +Good-night, Winny. Don't, for pity's sake, study any later," and +Theodore ran lightly up stairs and entered his own room on tiptoe. The +room was utterly unlike Tode Mall's early dream. No square of red and +green and yellow carpet adorned the spot in front of the bed--instead a +soft thick carpet of mossy green covered the floor, and Theodore had +pleased himself in gathering many a dainty trifle with which to +beautify this one room that he called home. To-night the drop-light was +carefully shaded, and in the dimness Theodore had to look twice before +he distinguished McPherson mounted on guard in the rocking-chair beside +the bed, while on it lay, sunken in heavy sleep, Pliny Hastings. + +"Well!" was Theodore's brief greeting. + +"Yes!" was Jim's equally laconic reply. + +"What did you think had become of me that I could not attend to my own +business?" asked Theodore, dropping wearily into the nearest chair. + +"Tommy said you were putting three policemen in jail, or something." + +"It was _something_, sure enough," answered Theodore, smiling faintly; +and then he gave a rapid and condensed account of the midnight scene, +interrupted by many exclamations of horror and amaze from his listener. + +"Had you much trouble in this quarter?" he asked presently, going to the +bedside and looking long and earnestly at Pliny. + +"Very little. Tommy had some difficulty before they reached me; but he +is a plucky little chap, and was firmly resolved upon carrying out your +instructions to the letter, so he gained the day. Isn't it remarkable +that he should have been the one to assist in the rescue of Mr. +Hastings' son?" + +"Isn't it?" said Theodore, emphatically. "And Mr. Hastings would not +lift one finger to assist in _his_ rescue." + +"What in the world are you going to do next?" said Jim. "In this case I +mean," nodding his head toward Pliny. + +"Going to keep on doing, and when I have done all that I can, give +myself up to patient waiting and hopeful praying," was Theodore's solemn +answer. + +When he spoke again it was in a slightly hesitating tone, with a glance +at his watch. + +"There is just one thing more which ought to be done to-night, Jim." + +"All right," said Jim, promptly. "There's no special use in going to bed +to-night, or rather this morning. Too late to pay, so bring on your +business. What comes next?" + +"They ought to know at Hastings' Hall where this young man is." + +"Ho!" said Jim, with an astonished and incredulous air, "I don't imagine +there will be many sleepless eyes in that house if they don't hear of +his whereabouts until he appears again. I fancy they are too much +accustomed to it." + +"There is one member of the family who will wait for him, +nevertheless." + +"Who?" + +"His sister. He remembered it himself, as bad as he was." + +Jim looked searchingly at the half-averted face of his friend for a +moment; then seeming to have come to some conclusion, arose and began to +don his overcoat. + +"Then if I understand you, Mallery, you think that his sister ought to +be apprised of his safety, and you judge it would be well, if possible, +to do so without disturbing any other members of the family?" This he +said after having waited a moment in vain for his friend to speak again. + +Theodore turned toward him, and eagerly grasped his hand as he spoke: + +"You understand everything, my dear fellow, better than I can tell it. +God bless you for your kindness and thoughtfulness." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +POOR PLINY! + + +The surliness of that November night broke into dazzling sunlight the +next morning, and the sun was nearly two hours high when Pliny Hastings +rolled himself heavily over in bed, uttered a deep groan, and awoke to +the wretchedness of a new day of shame and misery and self-loathing. + +For he loathed himself, this poor young man born and reared in the very +hotbed of temptation, struggling to break the chain that he had but +recently discovered was bound around him, making resolutions many and +strong, and gradually awakening to the knowledge that resolutions were +flimsy as paper threads compared with the iron bands with which his +tyrant held him. After the groan, he opened his eyes, and staring about +him in a bewildered way, tried to take in his unfamiliar surroundings. + +"Where in the name of wonders am I now?" he said at last and aloud. +Whereupon Theodore came to the bedside and said, "Good-morning, Pliny." + +"What the mischief!" began Pliny, then he stopped; and as memory came to +his aid, added a short, sharp, "Oh!" and relapsed into silence. + +"Are you able to get up and go down to breakfast with me?" questioned +Theodore. And then Pliny raised himself on his elbow, and burst forth: + +"I say, Mallery, why didn't you just leave me to my confounded fate? I +should have blundered home somehow, and if that long-suffering sister of +mine had chanced to fail in her plans, why my precious father would have +discovered my condition and kicked me out of doors, for good. He has +threatened to do it--and that is the way they all do anyhow. Isn't it, +Mallery? _make_ drunkards, and when their handiwork just begins to do +them credit, kick them out." + +"I think it would be well for you to get up and dress for breakfast," +was Theodore's quiet answer. + +"Why don't you give it up, Mallery?" persisted Pliny, making no effort +to change his position. "Don't you see it's no sort of use; no one was +ever more possessed to be a fool than I am. What have all my +everlasting promises amounted to but straws! I tell you, my father +designed and planned me for a drunkard, and I'm living up to the light +that has been given me." + +"I see it is quite time you were ready for breakfast, Pliny. I am +waiting, and _have_ been for two hours, and I really haven't time to +waste, while you lie there and talk nonsense. Whatever else you do, +don't be foolish enough to cast all the blame of your misdeeds on your +father." + +Pliny turned fiercely. "Who else is there to blame, I should like to +know?" he asked, savagely. "Didn't he give me the sugar to sip from the +bottom of his brandy glass in my babyhood? Haven't I drank my wine at +his table, sitting by his side, three times a day for at least fifteen +years? Haven't I seen him frown on every effort at temperance reform +throughout the country? Haven't I seen him sneer at my weak, feeble +efforts to break away from the demon with which he has constantly +tempted me? If he didn't rear me up for a drunkard, what in the name of +heaven _am_ I designed for after such a training?" + +"Pliny," said Theodore, speaking low and with great significance, "for +what do you suppose _my_ father designed and reared _me_?" + +One evening, months before, Theodore had, in much pain and shrinking, +told the whole sad story of his early life to Pliny, told it in the +vague hope that it might some day be a help to him. Now, as he referred +to it, Pliny answered only with a toss and a groan, and then was +entirely silent. At last he spoke again in a quieter, but utterly +despairing tone. + +"Mallery, you don't know anything about it. I tell you I was _born_ with +this appetite; I inherited it, if you will; it is my father's legacy to +me, and the taste has been petted and fostered in every imaginable way; +you need not talk of my manhood to me. I have precious little of that +article left. No mortal knows it better than I do myself; I would sell +what little I have for a glass of brandy this minute." + +Theodore came over to him and laid a quiet hand on the flushed and +throbbing temples. "I know all about it, my friend;" he said, gently. "I +know more about this thing in some respects than you do; remember the +atmosphere in which I spent my early boyhood; remember what _my_ father +is. Oh, I know how hard it is so well, that it seems to me almost +impossible for one in his own strength to be freed; but, Pliny, why +_will_ you not accept a helper? One who is mighty to save? I do solemnly +assure you that in him you would _certainly_ find the strength you +need." + +Pliny moved restlessly, and spoke gloomily, "You are talking a foreign +language to me, Mallery. I don't understand anything about that sort of +thing, you know." + +"Yes, I know. But, what has that to do with it? I am asking you why you +_will_ not? How is it possible that you can desire to be released from +this bondage; can feel your own insufficiency, and yet will not accept +aid?" + +"And I am telling you that I don't understand anything about this +matter." + +"But, my dear friend, is there any sense to that reply? If you wished to +become a surveyor, and I should assure you that you would need to +acquire a knowledge of a certain branch of mathematics in order to +perfect yourself, would you coldly reply to me that you knew nothing +about that matter, and consider the question settled? You certainly +would not, if you had any confidence in me." + +Pliny turned quickly toward him. + +"You are wrong in that last position, at least," he said, eagerly. "If I +have confidence in any living being, I have in you, and certainly I have +reason to trust you. The way in which you cling to me, patiently and +persistently, through all manner of scrapes and discouragements, is +perfectly marvelous! Now, tell me why you do it?" + +Theodore hesitated a moment before he answered, gravely: + +"If you want to know the first cause, Pliny, it is because I pledged you +to my Redeemer, as a thank-offering for a gracious answer to my prayers, +which he sent me, even when I was unbelieving; and the second is, +because, dear friend, I love you, and _can not_ give you up." + +Pliny lay motionless and silent, and something very like a tear forced +itself from between his closed eyelids. + +"Pliny, will you utterly disappoint me?" said Theodore at last, breaking +the silence. "Won't you promise me to seek this Helper of mine?" + +"How?" + +"Pray for his aid; it will surely be given. You trust me, you say; well, +I promise you of a certainty that he stands ready to receive you. Will +you begin to-day, Pliny?" + +"You will despise me if I tell you why I can not," Pliny said, +hesitatingly, after a long, and, on Theodore's part, an anxious silence. + +"No, I shall not;" he answered, quickly. + +"Tell me." + +"Well then, it is because, whatever else I may have been, I have never +played the hypocrite, and I have sense enough left to know that the +effort which you desire me to make, will not accord with an engagement +which I have this very evening." + +"What is it?" + +"To accompany Ben Phillips to the dance at the hotel on the turnpike, +nine miles from here. I'm as sure that I will drink wine and brandy +to-night, as I am that I lie here, in spite of all the helps in +creation, or out of it. So what's the use?" + +"Will you give me one _great_ proof of your friendship, Pliny?" was +Theodore's eager question. + +"I'll give you 'most anything quicker than I would any other mortal," +answered Pliny, wearily. + +"Then will you promise me not to go with Phillips this evening?" + +"Ho!" said Pliny, affecting astonishment. "I thought you were a +tremendous man of your word?" + +"There are circumstances under which I am not; if I promise to commit +suicide, I am justified in saner moments in changing my mind." + +"I didn't exactly promise either," said Pliny, thoughtfully. "I had just +brains enough left for that. Well, Mallery, I'll be hanged if I haven't +a mind to promise you; I'm sure I've no desire to go, it's only that +confounded way I have of blundering into engagements." + +"I'm waiting," said Theodore, gravely. + +"Well, I _won't_ go." + +"Thank you;" this time he smiled, and added: + +"How about the other matter, Pliny?" + +"That is different;" said Pliny, restlessly. "Not so easily decided on. +I don't more than half understand you, and yet--yes, I know +theoretically what you want of me. Theodore, I'll think of it." + +A little quickly checked sigh escaped Theodore; he must bide his time, +but a great point had been gained. There came a tapping at the chamber +door. Theodore went forward and opened it, and Pliny, listening, heard a +clear, smoothly modulated voice ask: + +"Will your friend take breakfast with you, Theodore, and have you any +directions?" + +"No special directions," answered Theodore, smiling. "Is that a hint +that we are woefully late, Winny? It is too bad; we will be down very +soon now." + +"I'm a selfish dog, with all the rest," Pliny said, sighing heavily, as +he went around making a hurried toilet. "How is it that you have any +time to waste on a wretch like myself? Did you ever have your head whirl +around like a spinning wheel, Mallery?" + +"I sent a note to Mr. Stephens early this morning, saying I should not +be at the store until late. Try ice water for your head, Pliny." This +was Theodore's reply to the last query. + +The dainty little breakfast room, all in a glow of sunlight, and bright +with ivy and geranium, looked like a patch of paradise to Pliny +Hastings' splendor-wearied eyes. Winny presided at the table in a +crimson dress--that young lady was very fond of crimson dresses--and +fitted very nicely into the clear, crisp, fresh brightness of everything +about her. Pliny drank the strong coffee that she poured him with a +relish, and though he shook his head with inward disgust at the sight or +thought of food, gradually the spinning-wheel revolved more and more +slowly, and ere the meal was concluded, he was talking with almost his +accustomed vivacity to Winny. He hadn't the least idea that she had +stood in the doorway the evening before, and watched him go stumbling +and grumbling up the stairs. Theodore glanced from one bright handsome +face to the other, and grew silent and thoughtful. + +"Where is your mother?" he said at last, suddenly addressing Winny. + +"She is lying down, nearly sick with a headache. I feel troubled about +mother; she doesn't seem well. I wish you would call on your way down +town, Theodore, and send the doctor up." + +Pliny noted the look of deep anxiety that instantly spread over +Theodore's face, and the many anxious questions that he asked, and grew +puzzled and curious. What position did this young man occupy in this +dainty little house? Was he adopted brother, friend, or only boarder? +Why was he so deeply interested in the mother? Oh he didn't know the +dear little old lady and her story of the "many mansions," nor the many +dear and tender and motherly deeds that she had done for this boarder of +hers, and how, now that he was in a position to pay her with "good +measure, pressed down and running over," he still gave to her +respectful, loving, almost adoring reverence. Pliny had not been a +familiar friend of Theodore's in the days when the latter had heated his +coffee at the old lady's little kitchen stove, and the stylish Winny had +made distracting little cream cakes for his saloon. Indeed the +friendship that had sprung up between these two was something singular +to them both, and had been the outgrowth of earnest efforts on +Theodore's part, and many falls and many repentings on Pliny's. + +"What a delightful home you have," Pliny said, eagerly, as the two young +men lingered together in the hall; and then his face darkened as he +added: "It is the first table I have sat down to in many a day without +being tempted on every side by my faithful imp, starting up in some +shape or other, to coax me to ruin. I tell you, Mallery, you know +nothing about it." + +"Yes, I do," Theodore answered, positively. "And I know you're in dire +need of help. Come home with me to dinner, will you?" + +Pliny shook his head. + +"Can't. Some wretched nuisance and her daughter are to dine with us, and +I promised mother I would be at home and on duty. I must go up directly, +and there is a car coming. Theodore, don't think me an ungrateful fool. +I know what I think of myself and of you, and if ever I _am_ anything +but a drunkard, why--Never mind, only may the God in whom you trust +bless you forever." And this warm-hearted, whole-souled, hot-brained, +sorely-tempted young man wrung his friend's hand with an almost +convulsive grasp, and was gone. + +Theodore looked after him wistfully. Winny came to the window while he +still stood looking out; he turned to her suddenly. + +"Winny, enter the lists with me, and help me fight rum and his allies, +and save the young man." + +"How?" said Winny, earnestly. + +"Every way. Help me to meet him at every time, to save him from himself, +and, worst and hardest of all, to save him from his family. I would like +to ask you to pray for him." + +"Very well," answered Winny, gravely, returning his searching look with +one as calm. "Why don't you then?" + +"Because I have reason to fear that you do not pray for yourself." + +This time she colored violently, but still spoke steadily: + +"Suppose I do not. Can't I possibly pray for any one else?" + +"You _can_, certainly, if you will; but the question is, will you?" And +receiving no sort of reply to this question, Theodore turned away and +prepared to go down town. + +The Hastings' family had filed out to the dining-room after the orthodox +fashion--Mr. Hastings leading out the fashionable Boston stranger, Mrs. +De Witt, and Pliny following with her elegant daughter. All traces of +last night's dissipation had been carefully petted and smoothed away +from the young man's face and dress, and he looked the very +impersonation of refined manhood. As for Dora no amount of care and +anxiety on her mother's part could transform her into a fashionable +young lady--no amount of persuasion could induce her to follow fashion's +freaks in the matter of dress, unless they chanced to accord with her +own grave, rather mature, taste. So on this November day, while Miss De +Witt was glowing and sparkling in garnet silk and rubies, Dora was pale +and fair in blue merino, and soft full laces; and in spite of plainness +and simplicity, or perhaps by the help of them, was queenly and +commanding still. The table was dazzling and gorgeous, with silver and +cut glass and flowers. Pliny established his lady and devoted himself to +her wishes, eating little himself, and declining utterly at least half +of the dishes that were offered. Brandy peaches, wine jellies, custards +flavored with wine, fruits with just a touch of brandy about them, how +they flitted and danced about him like so many imps, all allies of that +awful demon _rum_, and all seeming bent on his destruction. Pliny's +usually pale face was flushed, and his nerves were quivering. How much +he wanted every one of these spiced and flavored dainties only his poor +diseased appetite knew; how thoroughly dangerous every one of them was +to him only his troubled, tempted conscience knew. He heartily loathed +every article of simple unflavored food; he absolutely longed to seize +upon that elegant dish of brandy peaches, and devour every drop of the +liquid to quench his raging thirst. Still he chatted and laughed, and +swallowed cup after cup of coffee, and struggled with his tempter, and +tried to call up and keep before him all his numerous promises to that +one true friend who had stood faithfully beside him through many a +disgraceful downfall. + +"What an abstemious young gentleman!" simpered Miss De Witt, as for the +fourth time Pliny briefly and rather savagely declined the officious +waiter's offer of wine custard. "Don't you eat any of these frivolous +and demoralizing articles? Mrs. Hastings, is your son one of the +new-lights? I have really been amused to see how persistently he +declines all the tempting articles of peculiar flavor. _Is_ it a +question of temperance, Mr. Hastings? I'm personally interested in that +subject. I heard your star speaker, Mr. Ryan, hold forth last evening. +Did you hear him, Mr. Hastings?" + +"I did not," answered Pliny, laconically, remembering how far removed +from a temperance lecture was the scene in which he had mingled the +evening before. He was spared the trouble of further answer by his +father's next remark. + +"It is a remarkable recent conversion if Pliny has become interested in +the temperance question," he said, eyeing him curiously. "I really don't +know but total abstinence is a good idea for weak-minded young men who +can not control themselves." + +Pliny flushed to his very forehead, and answered in a sharp cutting tone +of biting sarcasm: + +"Elderly gentlemen who seem to be similarly weak ought to set the +example then, sir." + +This bitter and pointed reference to his father's portly form, flushed +face, and ever growing fondness for his brandies, was strangely unlike +Pliny's courteous manner, and how it might have ended had not Miss De +Witt suddenly determined on a conquest, I can not say. + +"Look, look!" she suddenly exclaimed, clapping her hands in childish +glee. "The first snow-storm of the season. Do see the great flakes! Mr. +Hastings, let me pledge your health, and your prospect of a glorious +sleigh ride," and she rested jeweled fingers on the sparkling glass +before her. + +Pliny's head was throbbing, and the blood seemed racing in torrents +through his veins. He turned a stern, fierce look upon the lady by his +side, muttered in low hoarse tones, "Pledge me for a glorious fool as I +am," drained his glass to the very bottom, and abruptly left the table +and the room. And Miss De Witt was serenely and courteously surprised, +while the embarrassed mother covered her son's retreat as best she +might, and Dora sat white and silent. On the table in Pliny's room lay a +carefully-worded note of apology and explanation from Pliny to Ben +Phillips. It was folded and ready for delivery. Pliny dashed up to his +room, seized upon the note and consigned it to the glowing coals in the +grate, then rang his bell furiously and left this message in its stead: + +"Tell Phillips when he calls that I'm going, and he'll find me at +Harcourt's." + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +JUDGMENTS. + + +Only a few of the clerks had assembled as yet at the great store. It was +still early morning, and the business of the day had not commenced when +young McPherson rushed in, breathless, and in his haste nearly +overturned a clerk near the door; then he stopped, panting as he +questioned: + +"Is Mr. Mallery in?" + +"Yes, sir; he's always in. It's my opinion he sleeps in the safe," added +his informant, in discontented under tone. Theodore's promptness was +sometimes a great inconvenience to the sleepy clerks. + +"I want him immediately. Where is he?" + +"In the private office, sir. We have sent for him," said Tommy, coming +forward with the air of one who was at least a partner. Two minutes more +and Theodore was beside him. + +"There's been an accident," explained Jim, rapidly, "and you are very +much needed." + +"Where, and for what?" + +"At the Euclid House. Pliny Hastings and Ben Phillips, they were thrown +from their carriage. Hastings asked for you at once." + +Theodore glanced behind him and issued a few brief directions. + +"Tommy, bring my hat. Edwards, keep these keys in your safe until Mr. +Stephens comes. Holden, tell Mr. Jennings when he calls that the bill of +sale is made out, and shall be ready for him at noon. Tommy, you may +take the letters that are on my desk to the post-office. Now, McPherson, +I am ready. Give me the particulars. Is it serious?" + +"I fear so. What few particulars we know is that they tried to drive +across the track with the Express coming at full speed. The horses took +fright, of course, backed into the gully, and both gentlemen were thrown +some distance. Why they were not killed, or how they escaped being +dashed in pieces by the train, is a wonderful mystery." + +"What insane spirit prompted them to attempt crossing the track at such +a time?" + +"The spirit of rum. They were both intoxicated." + +His listener uttered an exclamation fraught with more dismay than he +had before expressed, and asked his next question in a low, troubled +tone: + +"Where were they going?" + +"Going home. They had been out on that South road, nine miles from the +city, to attend a dance; had danced and drank by turns all night, and +were dashing home between five and six in the morning. So Harcourt says, +and he is good authority, for he was right behind them, returning from +the same place, and in not much better condition than they until the +accident sobered him." + +Poor Theodore! he had had particulars enough; his heart felt like lead. +How _could_ he hope, or work, or pray, any more? They walked in absolute +silence to the corner, signaled a car, and made as rapid progress as +possible. Only two questions more did Theodore venture: + +"Did you say Pliny asked for me?" + +"Yes--or, no, not exactly asked for you, but kept constantly talking +about you in a wild sort of way, referring to some promise or pledge of +his own, we judged, for he kept saying: 'I never deliberately broke my +word to him before,' and then adding in a pitiful tone: 'He will have +nothing to do with me now; he will never believe me again,' I think the +doctor fears that his brain is injured." + +It was some moments before Theodore could trust his voice to speak; and +then he said, inquiringly: + +"His parents have been apprised of the accident, of course?" + +"Why, no," answered Jim, in a startled tone. "At least I doubt it. +Nobody seemed to think of it. The fact is, Theodore, we were all +frightened out of our wits, and needed your executive ability. I had +been down at the depot to see if my freight had come, and arrived on the +scene just after the accident occurred. I had just brains enough left to +have both gentlemen taken to the hotel and come for you." + +Arrived at the Euclid House the two young men went up the steps and +through the halls so familiar to both of them, and sought at once the +room where Pliny had been placed. Two physicians were busy about him, +but they drew back thoughtfully as Pliny, catching a glimpse of the +new-comer, uttered an eager exclamation. + +"It's no use," he said, wildly, as Theodore bent over him. "No use, you +see; the imps have made up their mind to have me, and they'll get me, +body and soul. I'm bound--I can't stir. I promised you--oh yes, I can +promise--I'm good at that--they don't mind that at all; but when it +comes to performing then they chain me." + +"That is the way he has raved ever since the accident," said the elder +physician, addressing Theodore. "It is an indication of a disordered +brain. Are you the young man whom he has been calling? We were in hopes +you could quiet him." + +"Does the disorder arise from liquor," said Theodore, sadly. + +"Oh no, not at all; at least it is not the immediate cause. Can you +control him, do you think?" + +Theodore bent over him; he was still repeating wildly, "They'll get me, +body and soul," when a cool hand was laid on his burning forehead, and a +quiet, firm voice spoke the words: "Pliny, they _shall not_ get you. Do +you understand? They _shall not_." And at that forlorn and apparently +hopeless hour the young man's faith arose. Some voice from that inner +world seemed to reach his ear, and repeat his own words with strong +meaning: "No, they _shall_ not." + +The physicians, who had hoped a great deal from the coming of this young +man, about whom the thoughts of their patient seemed to center, had not +hoped in vain. He grew quieter and gradually sank into a sort of stupor, +which, if it were not very encouraging, seemed less heart-rending than +the wild restlessness of the other state. + +Then Theodore bethought himself again of the Hastings' family. No, they +had not been sent for, everybody had thought about it, but nobody had +acted. Mr. Roberts was not at home, and the two doctors had been busy +about more necessary business. + +"It must be attended to immediately," Theodore said. "Which of you +gentlemen is Mr. Hastings' family physician?" + +"Neither of us," answered the elder gentleman, laconically. "_I_ don't +even know who his family physician is." + +"Dr. Armitage is," added the younger, from his position at the foot of +the bed. "And he is out of town." + +"That's lucky," was the sententious comment of the old doctor. + +"Why?" asked Theodore, fixing earnest, searching eyes on his face. + +"Because Dr. Armitage uses rum, _rum_, RUM, everywhere and always: and +ten drops of it would be as certain death to this young man, in his +present state, as a dose of prussic acid would." + +"Who is the elder of those two physicians?" questioned Theodore of one +of the waiters as they left the room together. + +"That's Dr. Arnold, just the greatest man in this city folks think, and +the young fellow is Dr. Vincent, a student once, and now a partner of +Dr. Arnold." + +Theodore mentally hoped, as he recognized the familiar names, that Dr. +Armitage's absence would be indefinitely prolonged. He glanced into the +room where Ben Phillips lay. He was insensible, and had been from the +first. Two more physicians were in attendance there, but seemed to be +doing nothing, and shook their heads very gravely in answer to +Theodore's inquiring look. Mr. Phillips had been seen down town, near +the freight office, and thither Jim had gone in search of him. There +seemed to be nothing for Theodore but to go to Hastings' Hall himself. +He shrank from it very much--nothing but messages of evil, or scenes of +danger, seemed to connect him with this house. + +"They will learn to look on me as the very impersonation of evil +tidings," he said, nervously, as he awaited admittance. His peremptory +ring was promptly answered by John. + +"Was Mr. Hastings in?" + +No, he was not; he and Mrs. Hastings had accompanied Mrs. and Miss De +Witt to the house of a friend, nine miles distant, and were to be absent +two days. In spite of himself Theodore felt a sense of relief. + +"Then tell Miss Hastings I would like to see her at once," was his +direction. + +John stared. + +"It was very early. Miss Hastings had not yet left her room. If Mr. +Mallery could--" + +Theodore interrupted him. + +"Tell her I must see her at once, or as soon as possible." And at this +opportune moment Dora came down the stairs. Theodore advanced to meet +her, and feeling almost certain of the character with which he had to +deal, came to the point at once without hesitation or circumlocution. + +"I am not the bearer of good news this morning, Miss Hastings. There has +been an accident, and Pliny is injured, not seriously we hope. He is at +the Euclid House. Would you wish to go to him at once?" + +Dora's face had grown paler, but she neither exclaimed nor fainted, and +answered him promptly and firmly. + +"I will go to him at once. Mr. Mallery, our carriage is away, will you +signal a car for me? I will be ready in five minutes. But tell me this +much. Ought I to send for my father and mother?" + +"I fear you ought," said Theodore, gently. + +She turned at once, and issued brief, rapid and explicit orders to the +waiting John, and in less than five minutes they were in the car. On the +way down Theodore gave her what meager knowledge he possessed +concerning the accident, withholding the bitter cause of it all, which, +however, he saw she too readily guessed. As they passed Dr. Armitage's +house he said: "Dr. Armitage is not at home." And she answered +emphatically: "I am glad of it." Then he wondered if she were glad for +the same reason he was. At noon Mr. and Mrs. Hastings arrived, and +before the day was done the other anxious watchers had reason heartily +to wish that their coming had been longer delayed. Evidently Dora had +not inherited her self-control from her mother, or if she had Mrs. +Hastings had not a tithe of it remaining, and her nervousness added not +a little to the wildness of the suffering patient. Mr. Hastings on his +part seemed anxious and angry, both in one. He said to Dora savagely +that he hoped it would teach the reckless fellow a lesson that he would +never forget, and resented with haughty silence Dr. Arnold's sententious +reply, that "it was likely to do just that." Then he openly and +unhesitatingly regretted Dr. Armitage's absence, sent twice to his home +to learn concerning his whereabouts, and was not improved in temper by +learning that he was lying ill at Buffalo; and, finally, with much +hesitancy and visible annoyance, that would have provoked to withdrawal +a younger and less eminent man, committed the case into Dr. Arnold's +hands. The doctor skillfully evaded the questions that were trembling on +Mrs. Hastings' lips and hungering in Dora's eyes concerning the nature +and extent of Pliny's injuries, which fact led Theodore to be very much +alarmed, and yet he was totally unprepared for the abrupt answer which +he received when he first found a chance to ask the question in private. + +"He hasn't a chance in a hundred; brain is injured; is morally certain +to have a course of fever, and he has burned his system so thoroughly +with poison that he has no rallying power." + +It was late in the afternoon before the doctor, after issuing very +strict and careful orders, left his patient for a few hours. Mr. +Hastings turned at once to Theodore, and spoke in the haughty, +half-sarcastic tone which he always assumed toward him. + +"Now, young man, I don't know how you became mixed up with this sad +accident; some people have a marvelous faculty for getting mixed up with +troubles. Neither do I know to what extent you have attempted to serve +me; but if you have put yourself out in any way for me or mine, I am +duly grateful, and stand ready, as you very well know, to liquidate your +claims with a check whenever you are prepared to receive it." + +In justice to Mr. Hastings, be it said that he had drank a glass of +brandy just before this insulting speech, and its fumes were already +busy with his brain. Theodore made no sort of reply; his heart was too +heavy with a sickening dread of what was to come to be careful about +maintaining his own dignity--and, indeed, Mr. Hastings gave him very +little time, for he immediately added: "And now, as the doctor has +ordered absolute quiet, it is advisable for all who are not useful, to +absent themselves from the sick-room. Therefore, it would perhaps be +well for you to retire at once." + +Theodore bowed gravely, and immediately left the room. Dora immediately +followed him--her cheeks were glowing, and her eyes were unusually +bright. + +"Mr. Mallery," she began--speaking in a quick, excited tone--"I beg you +will not consider yourself grossly insulted. Papa does not mean--does +not know----" and she stopped in pitiful confusion. + +Theodore spoke gently--"I am not offended, Miss Dora--your father is +excited, and withal does not understand me. But do not think that I have +deserted Pliny, or can desert him. And we will give ourselves +continually to prayer concerning him. Shall we not?" + +The first tears that Dora had shed that day rolled down her cheeks; but +she only answered: + +"I thank you _very_ much," and vanished. + +Deprived thus suddenly of the privilege of doing for and watching over +his friend, Theodore bethought himself of the other sufferer, and sought +the room where he had been carried. He tapped lightly at the door, but +received no answer, and afraid to make further demonstrations, lest he +might disturb the sick one, he turned away. But a waiter just at that +moment flung open the door, and to his amazement, Theodore saw that the +room was empty! + +"Where is Mr. Phillips?" he inquired, in surprise. + +"They have taken him home, sir. Didn't you know it?" + +"No, I did not," answered Theodore, shortly, and turned quickly away. In +spite of himself, a bitter feeling of almost rebellion possessed him. + +"He is able to be carried home," he muttered, "while his partner in +trouble must toss in delirium--and _he_ was much the most to blame this +time, I have no doubt!" + +No sooner had these sullen thoughts been uttered than he was startled at +them, and ashamed of himself. He struggled to regain a right feeling +toward the more fortunate man, and punished himself by determining to go +at once to Mr. Phillips' residence, and inquire in person for his son, +instead of returning to the store and sending a message, as he had at +first intended. A flushed-faced, swollen-eyed servant answered his ring, +and to his inquiry as to how Mr. Phillips was, answered: + +"Well, sir, he's doing the best he can." + +"Can I see him?" asked Theodore, wondering at the strangeness of the +answer. + +"I guess so--or I'll see. Come in!" and she flung open the parlor door +and left him. In a few minutes the elder Mr. Phillips entered. He +recognized Theodore at once, though the two had met but once in their +lives. The look of unreconciled pain on his face settled into a sterner +form as he encountered Theodore, and he spoke with a marked +sternness--"Young man! were you with my son last night? Are you one of +those who helped lead him astray?" + +"I thank God I am not!" answered Theodore, fervently, yet in gentle +tone. Even though he believed that the young man's father had been one +of the most potent influences in the ruin of his son, yet the present +was no time to have it appear. + +"I called to see if I could in any way serve you, and to know if I might +see your son." + +"Thank you--there is nothing more to do--but you can see him!" The voice +that uttered those hopeless words was husky with suppressed tears, and +yet, as he opened a door at his right, motioned Theodore forward, and +abruptly left the room, the sad and solemn truth had not so much as +glimmered on the young man's mind. Not until he had fairly entered and +nearly crossed the back parlor, were his feet arrested by the presence +of death. Even then he could not believe it possible that God had called +for the soul, and it had gone. He stood still and looked on the straight +motionless figure, covered with its drapery of white. He advanced and +looked reverently upon the face that only yesterday he had seen bubbling +with life and fun. The icy seal was surely there, the features had felt +that solemn, mysterious touch, and grown sharper and more clearly +defined under it. Nothing in his life had ever come to Theodore with +such sudden and fearful surprise. Pliny, then, was the one still +hovering this side, and the other gone. What an awful death! "Murdered," +he said, with set lips and rigid face. "Just murdered! That is the +proper term. Why could they not be hung like other murderers? Was it +because their crime was committed by degrees, instead of at one fatal +blow?" He could not trust himself to stand looking on that still face, +and pursue these thoughts further. He turned quickly away, and +mechanically opened the family Bible, in hope of something to steady +his fierce, almost frightful, thoughts. He opened to the family +record--saw the familiar name Benjamin Phillips--born Nov. 17th, 18--. +The date was familiar too--the date of his own birthday--year, month, +even day. How strange the coincidence! Pliny's birthday too--he had long +known that; now here were the trio. Three young men launched upon life +in the same day of time! How _very_ different must have been the +circumstances of each! He glanced about the pleasant room; he could +imagine with what lavish love and tender care this young man's early +years had been surrounded--he knew something of the high hopes which had +centered in him. He knew all about the elegance and grandeur of Pliny's +home--he had vivid memories of the horrors of his own. Now here they +were, Pliny struggling wildly with his disordered brain--this +one--where? Who had made them to differ? Was this the repeatal of the +old, old sentence: "The iniquities of the fathers shall be visited upon +the children?" But then what a father had _his_ been to him, and yet how +full of signal blessing and wonderful success had his life been! Then +sounding sweetly through his brain came the sentence: "When my father +and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up." Had the +gracious Lord, then, come to him, and thrice filled what a father's +place should have been? And was he but showing these fathers, who had +dared to take the responsibility upon themselves, and while they fed and +petted and loved the poor bodies, starved and seared the souls, what +_their_ love, when put in defiance to _His_, could do? Being utterly +deserted of human love, had it been better for him than this misguided, +unsanctified, distorted love had been to these two young men? Aye; for +they had kept the parents' place--assumed the responsibilities, and yet +ignored the most solemn of them all. Moved by a powerful, +all-controlling emotion, Theodore sank on his knees beside the silent +form, and cried out in an agony of prayer--"Oh, _my_ Father, thou hast +taken this soul away beyond the reach of prayer or entreaty--bind up the +broken hearts that this thy judgment has caused. Thou doest all things +well. But oh, I pray thee, spare that other--save _his_ life yet a +little--give him time. Oh, be _thou_ his Father, and lead him even as +thou hast led me. Hear this cry, I beseech thee, for the sake of thy +Son!" + +Then he went softly and reverently from the room and the house of +mourning. There stood two others beside that still head when it was +pillowed in the coffin--the stricken father and mother. They stood and +dropped tears of utter agony on the face of their first-born and only +son. Did a vision come to them of the time when they had leaned lovingly +over the sleeping baby in the great rocking-chair, standing empty there +in the corner? Did they remember how merrily they had laughed, as they +assured each other that they had no fear of "Baby Ben" becoming a +drunkard? Oh, if they _had_ feared, and prayed, "Lead him not into +temptation," and made earnest effort to answer their own prayers, would +the end have been as it was? + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +A DOUBLE CRISIS. + + +Theodore was at his post in the private office deep in business when his +next hasty summons came. Pliny was raving and repeating his name +incessantly, and Dr. Arnold had said that he must come immediately or +the consequences would be fatal. + +"I shall remain all night if I am permitted to do so," Theodore +explained to Mr. Stephens while he was putting bills and notes under +lock and key. "And in the morning--" + +"In the morning get rest if you can," interrupted Mr. Stephens. "At all +events, do not worry about the store. Remain with the poor boy just as +much as you can while he lives. I will see that all goes right here. +McPherson is coming in to help me; he has his new clerk under splendid +training." + +Theodore looked the thanks that his heart was too heavy to speak. Mr. +Hastings glanced up grimly as he entered Pliny's room, twenty minutes +afterward, but did not choose to speak. Nobody noticed the omission--for +eyes and thoughts were too entirely engrossed with the sufferer. And +then commenced a hand-to-hand encounter with death. Day by day he +relentlessly pursued his victim, and yet was mercifully kept at bay. The +fever burned fiercely, and the faithful, watchful doctors worked +constantly and eagerly. Theodore was constantly with his friend. When +the delirium ran high this was absolutely necessary, for while Pliny did +not seem to recognize him, yet he was calmer in his presence. Mr. +Hastings had ceased to demur or grumble--indeed, sharp and persistent +anxiety and fear had taken the place of all other feelings. Pliny had +disappointed him, had angered him, had disgraced him at times, yet he +reigned an idol in his father's heart. + +During all these anxious days and nights Dr. Arnold's face had been +grave and impassive, and his voice had failed to utter a single +encouraging word. But one night he said, peremptorily: + +"There are too many people, and there is too much moving around in this +room every night. I want every single one of you to go to bed and to +sleep, except this young man. You can stay, can you not?" This with a +glance toward Theodore, who bowed in answer. "Well, then, you are the +only watcher he needs, and the sooner the rest of you retire the better +it will be for the patient." + +Mr. Hastings rebelled utterly. + +"There was no occasion for depending upon strangers," he said, +haughtily. "Any or all of the family were ready to sit up; and besides, +there were scores of intimate friends who had offered their aid." + +And the doctor, quite as accustomed to having his own way as Mr. +Hastings could possibly be, answered, testily: + +"But the family and the 'scores of intimate friends' are just the beings +that I don't want to-night, and this 'stranger' has proved himself a +very faithful and efficient nurse during the last few weeks, and _he_ is +the one _I'm_ going to leave in charge." + +He carried his point, of course. Dr. Arnold always did. When the door +was closed on the last departure he came with very quiet tread to +Theodore's side, and spoke in subdued tones. + +"This night is a matter of life and death with us; he needs the most +close and careful watching; above all, he needs absolute quiet and the +absence of all nervousness. There will be a change before morning--a +very startling one perhaps. It is for this reason I have banished the +family. I trust _you_, you see." + +"I don't trust myself," answered Theodore, huskily, yet making a great +effort to control his voice. + +"It is more to the point that _I do_ just at present; the next eight +hours will be likely to determine whether it has all been in vain. I +will give you very careful directions, and I will be in twice during the +night, although I am absolutely powerless now; can do no more than you +will be able to do yourself. Meantime that friend of yours, McPherson I +think his name is, will be on guard in the room next to this, ready to +answer your lightest call. Indeed, you may open the door between the two +rooms, but on no account speak or move unless absolutely necessary. This +heavy sleep will grow lighter _perhaps_. Now, I want your fixed +attention." Then followed very close and careful directions--what to do, +and, above all, what _not_ to do. + +"Doctor, tell me one word more," said Theodore, quivering with +suppressed emotion. "How do _you_ think it will end?" + +"I have hardly the faintest atom of hope," answered this honest, earnest +man. "If, as I said, after midnight this sleep grows heavier, and you +fail to catch the regular breathing, you may call the family. I think no +human sound will disturb him after that; but if, on the contrary, the +breathing grows steadier, and occasionally he moves a little, then I +want you fairly to hold your breath, and then we may begin to hope, +provided nothing shall occur to startle him; but I will be in by twelve +or a little after." + +The doctor went away with lightest tread, and Theodore opened the door +of communication with the next room, met the kind, sympathetic eyes of +Jim resting on him, returned his grave, silent bow, and felt sustained +by his presence, then went back to his silent, solemn work. Close by the +bedside, and thus, his head resting on one hand, his eyes fixed on the +sleepless face, his heart going up to God in such wordless agony of +entreaty as he had never felt before, passed the long, long hours. "The +eyes of the Lord are in every place." How this watcher blessed God for +that promise now! His, then, were not the only watcher's eyes bent on +that white face; but He who knew the end from the beginning--aye, who +held both beginning and end in the hollow of his hand, was watching too. +More than that, the loving Redeemer, who had shed his blood for this +poor man's soul, who loved it to-night with a love passing all human +knowledge, was the other watcher. So Theodore waited and prayed, and the +burden of his prayer was, "Lord, save him." Ten, eleven, twelve +o'clock, still that solemn silence, still that wordless prayer. No +doctor yet "I would not leave you if it were not absolute necessity," he +had said. "Life or death in another family, with more for human +knowledge to do than there is here, takes me away; but I will be back as +soon after twelve as possible." Would he _never_ come? It was ten +minutes after twelve now, still no change--or, was there? Could he catch +the breathing as distinctly now? Was the sleep heavier? Ought he to call +the family? Oh, compassionate Savior! must they give him up? Had not his +been the prayer of faith? And yet the breathing was certainly distinct, +the pulse was steady--a half hour more, one or two little sighs had +escaped the sleeper; other than that death-like stillness reigned. _Was_ +he better or worse? Oh for the doctor's coming! Suddenly Pliny gave a +quick restless movement, then lay quiet; and then for the first time in +long, long days, spoke in natural yet astonished tones: + +"Theodore!" Then with a sudden nervous tremor and a startled tone: "What +is it? What is it?" + +Theodore knew that great beads of perspiration stood on his forehead, +but his voice sounded natural and controlled as he stood with cup and +spoon beside the bed. + +"Hush, Pliny, you have had the headache, it is night. Swallow that and +go to sleep." + +Like a weary, submissive child Pliny obeyed; and Theodore, trembling in +every limb so that he dropped rather than sat down in his chair, again +watched and waited. A shadow fell between him and the light and his +raised eyes met the doctor's. He had come in through the room where Jim +was waiting. He came with noiseless tread to the bedside, and the +instant his practiced eyes fell on the sleeping face they lighted up +with a quick, glad look. Moving silently back to the door again he +signaled Theodore to come to him, while as silently Jim slipped by and +took his place. Rapidly the story of the night was rehearsed. + +"Well," said the doctor, with smiling eyes, "I believe we have now to +'thank God and take courage.' Can you follow the rest of my instructions +as implicitly as you have these? I would remove this strain on your +nerves if I dared, but it is a fearfully important night, and you see I +can trust you." + +"I can do it," said Theodore, with a curious ring of joy in his softly +voice. "I can do _anything now_." + +And the rest of that night was given not only to faithful watching and +nursing, but to thankful prayer, and to solemn promises that his spared +life should be more than ever his special charge, his constant care, +until one of those "many mansions" should be set apart as his. + +It was four weeks after this eventful night. Pliny was bolstered back +among the pillows in the rocking-chair, resting after a walk half way +across his room. It was a clear, sharp winter morning, but there was +freshness and sunshine in Pliny's room. Both Theodore and Dr. Vincent +were his companions. Theodore was making his morning call, and the young +doctor was waiting to see what effect the morning walk would have upon +the invalid, who was so slowly and feebly rallying back to life. Mrs. +Hastings and Dora had gone to Hastings' Hall, where they were now able +to spend a small part of each day. The conversation between the two +gentlemen, faintly helped along by Pliny, was interrupted by the +entrance of Mr. Hastings, and with him a stranger to Theodore, but he +was greeted by Pliny as Dr. Armitage, whereupon Theodore made him an +object of close scrutiny, and discovered that his face not only bore +traces of the frequent use of liquor, but stood near enough to learn +from his breath that he had so early in the morning indulged in a glass +of brandy. He came forward with an easy, half-swaggering air, bestowed +an indifferent glance on Theodore, and a supercilious one on Dr. +Vincent, and addressed Pliny. + +"Well, young gentleman, you've had a hard pull, they tell me, as well as +myself. Fortunately I could consult with _myself_ or I should have died. +How is it with you?" + +"I had better advisers than myself," answered Pliny, smiling. + +"Wants building up," said the doctor, turning abruptly from the son to +the father. "Never'll gain strength in this way--ought to have begun +tonics three weeks ago. Well, we'll do what we can to repair the +mischief. Port wine is as good as anything to begin on. You may order a +bottle brought up, if you please." + +As Mr. Hastings rang the bell and gave the order, Pliny stole a glance +of mingled entreaty and dismay at Theodore and Dr. Vincent. The latter +immediately advanced, and respectfully addressed the old doctor. + +"I beg your pardon, sir; but if you will study the patient's pulse a +moment you will observe that his nerves are not in a condition to bear +liquors of any sort." + +Dr. Armitage answered him first by a prolonged stare before he said: + +"I studied pulse and nerves, and things of that sort, before you were +born, young man." + +"That may be," answered Dr. Vincent, firmly, "but Dr. Arnold and myself +have been studying this gentleman's for the past six weeks, and in a +fearful state they have been, I assure you. You must remember that you +have hardly seen him as yet, and have not examined the case." + +By this time the wine had arrived, and Dr. Armitage, while he busied +himself in pouring out a glassful, assumed an air of jocoseness and +said: + +"Perhaps you would not object to opening a private class instruction in +_nerves_ and the like, by which means I might gain some information, and +you prove a benefactor to your race." Then to Pliny: "Now, sir, drink +that, and it will put new life into you." And the tempting glass was +held exasperatingly near poor Pliny's weak and fearfully-tempted hand. +Theodore, standing close beside him, saw the great beads of perspiration +gathering on his white forehead, and fairly _felt_ the quiver of +excitement that shook his frame. To save Pliny from taking the glass, +and entirely uncertain as to what he should do next, he mechanically +reached out his hand for it. Dr. Armitage evidently regarded him as an +ally, and at once resigned it, saying, with his eyes still fixed on +Pliny: "Drink it slowly and enjoy it. I'm sure I don't wonder that you +are wasted to a skeleton." + +Pliny's pleading eyes sought Theodore's, and he spoke in a low, husky +whisper: + +"Finish this business quick in some way, or I shall drink it--I know I +shall." + +Dr. Vincent had drawn near and caught the import of the whisper. With a +very quiet manner, but also with exceeding quickness, he took the glass +and deliberately poured it into the marble basin near which he stood, +and the fragrant old wine instantly gurgled down innumerable pipes, and +was harmless forever. Dr. Armitage's red face took a purplish tint, and +he turned fiercely to the man who dared to meddle with his orders. + +"Do you know what you are about?" he shouted rather than said. "Are you +aware that I am the family physician at Hastings' Hall?" + +"I am aware of it," was Dr. Vincent's quiet and composed reply. "And it +makes no sort of difference to me, so long as I remember that Dr. Arnold +has had this particular case in charge from the first, and his orders +are distinct and explicit, and I am here to see that they are obeyed, +which thing I shall do even if I have to send the entire contents of +that bottle in the same direction that part of it has traveled. At the +same time I am sorry to be _compelled_ to lay aside the courtesy due +from one physician to another." + +At this most opportune moment the door opened quietly and Dr. Arnold +entered. He went at once to Pliny's side, and placed his finger on the +throbbing wrist, as he said with an inquiring glance about the room: + +"It strikes me you are all forgetting the need of quiet and freedom from +excitement. This pulse is racing." Then for the first time noticing Dr. +Armitage, he addressed him courteously. "Good morning, Doctor, you are +on your feet again, are you? I congratulate you. Meantime Dr. Vincent +and myself have been doing your work here for you to the best of our +abilities." + +In answer to which Dr. Armitage drew himself up with an air of extreme +hauteur, and said, addressing Mr. Hastings: + +"The time has come, sir, for you to choose between this gentleman and +myself. If you desire any further service of him then I will consider +your name withdrawn from my list." + +Dr. Arnold elevated his eyebrows, evidently astonished that even Dr. +Armitage should be guilty of so gross a violation of propriety, while +Dr. Vincent drew near and in rapid undertone related the cause of the +disturbance. Dr. Arnold at first frowned, and then as the story +progressed nodded approvingly. + +"Quite right, quite right; he should not have touched the stimulus +under any circumstances whatever. Dr. Armitage, I am persuaded that even +you would have frowned on the idea had you watched this case through in +all its details." + +Dr. Armitage did not so much as vouchsafe him a glance, but kept his +angry eyes still fixed on Mr. Hastings as he said: + +"I repeat my statement. This matter must be decided at once. You have +but to choose between us." + +Now this really placed Mr. Hastings in an extremely awkward dilemma. Dr. +Armitage was not only his family physician, but the two had had all +sorts of business dealings together of which only they two knew the +nature; but then, on the other hand, Mr. Hastings believed that Dr. +Arnold had saved the life of his son. He knew that life was in a very +feeble, dangerous state even now, and he actually feared that Dr. +Armitage occasionally drank brandy enough to bewilder his brain, and at +such times perhaps was hardly to be trusted, and yet he could not +dismiss him. + +"Really," he stammered, "I--we--this is a very disagreeable matter. I +regret exceedingly--" And just here relief came to him from an +unexpected quarter. Pliny roused himself to speak with something of his +old spirit. + +"You two gentlemen seem to ignore my existence or overlook it somewhat. +I believe I am the unfortunate individual who requires the service of a +physician. Dr. Armitage, I have no doubt that my father will continue to +look upon you as his guardian angel, physically speaking; but as for me, +I'm inclined to continue at present under charge of the pilot who has +steered me safely thus far." + +"That being the case," said Dr. Arnold, briskly, "I will resume command +at once, and order every single one of you from the room, except you, +Dr. Vincent, if you have time to remain and administer an anodyne, and +you, young man, must go directly back to bed." + +Mr. Hastings promptly opened a side door and invited Dr. Armitage to a +few moments' private conversation, and Theodore departed, jubilant over +the turn affairs had taken, and fully determined that Dr. Vincent should +be _his_ family physician. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +STEPS UPWARD. + + +"Can you take another boarder, grandma?" + +This was the question with which Theodore startled the dear old lady, +while she and Winny still lingered with him at the breakfast table. Jim +had eaten in haste, and hurried away to his daily-increasing business. +But Theodore had seemed lost in thought, and for some little time had +occupied himself with trying to balance his spoon on the edge of his +cup, instead of eating his breakfast. At last he let the spoon pitch +into the cup with a decisive click, and asked the aforesaid question. +Grandma McPherson, looking a little older, it is true, than on the +blessed day in which "Tode Mall" first sought her out, but still having +the look of a wonderfully well preserved old lady, in an immaculate cap +frill, a trifle finer than in the days of yore, and a neat black dress, +presided still at the head of her table. She dropped her knife, at +Theodore's question, and gave vent to her old-time exclamation: "Deary +me, what notion has the dear boy got now?" + +"He has an Inebriate Asylum in view, mother, and wants to engage you for +physician, and your daughter for matron." + +This was Winny's grave explanation. Theodore did not even smile. She had +unwittingly touched too near the subject of his thoughts. + +"Don't tease the boy, Winny dear," said the little gentle mother; then +she turned her kind, interested eyes on him, and waited for his +explanation. + +"The fact is, I want to get Pliny away from home," he said, anxiously. +"You have no idea of the temptations that constantly beset him there. I +don't think it is possible for him to sit down to his father's table at +any time without being beset by what the poor fellow calls his imps." + +"What a world it is, to be sure," sighed Grandma McPherson, "when a +boy's worst enemy is his own father. Well, deary, I'm ready to help you +fight the old serpent to the very last, and so I am sure is Winny. What +is your plan?" + +"He thinks of coming into the store--he can have poor Winter's place for +the present. At least, Mr. Stephens has made him that offer. He seems +to feel the necessity of doing something, if for no other purpose than +to use up his time." + +Winny glanced up quickly. "Is that all his splendid collegiate education +is going to amount to?" she asked, wonderingly, and possibly with a +little touch of scorn in her voice. "A clerk in Mr. Stephens' store! I +thought he was going to study law?" + +"He has used up his brain-power too thoroughly to have any hope of +carrying out these plans--at least at present," answered Theodore, +sadly. "But, after all, I think we may consider his life not _quite_ a +failure, if he should become such a man as Mr. Stephens. Well, grandma, +my plan is, that he could room with me, and so make you no extra work in +that direction, and, if you _could_ manage the other part, I believe it +would be a blessed thing for Pliny." + +"Oh, we can manage that all nicely! Can't we, Winny dear? You are +willing to try it, I know!" + +"Oh, _certainly_, mother--anything to be on the popular side--only I +think we might hang out a sign, and have the advantage of a little +notoriety in the matter." + +There was this alleviating circumstance connected with Winny: She didn't +mean a single one of the sharp and rather unsympathetic things that she +said--and those that met her daily had come to understand this and +interpret her accordingly. So Theodore arose from the table, greatly +relieved in mind, and not a little gratified, that daughter, as well as +mother, was willing to co-operate with him. Thus it was that Pliny found +himself domiciled that very evening in Theodore's gem of a room--his +favorite books piled with Theodore's on the table, his dressing-case +standing beside Theodore's on the toilet-table opposite. + +"This is jolly!" he said, eagerly, surveying with satisfied eye all the +neat appointments of the room, when at last everything had been arranged +in accordance with his fastidious taste. + +"I declare I feel as if I had been made over new, or was somebody else +altogether--ready to begin life in decent, respectable earnest!" + +And then he suddenly dropped into the arm-chair at his side, and buried +his face in his hands. + +"Well now!" said Theodore, cheerily. "That's rather an April change, +when one considers that it is only January. My dear fellow, what spell +has come over you?" + +"I was reminded of Ben--I don't know how or why just then--except that +thoughts of him are constantly coming to haunt, and sometimes almost +madden me. Oh, Mallery! that is a past that can never, _never_ be +undone!" He spoke in a hollow, dreary tone, and his slight form, +enfeebled by disease, was quivering with emotion; yet what could his +friend say? How try to administer comfort for such a grief as that? He +remained entirely silent for a few moments, then offered the only +consolation that he could bear. + +"The past is not yours, Pliny, but in a sense the present and future +are. Let us have it such a future that it can be looked back upon with +joy, when you and I have become gray-haired men. Now, Pliny, it is late. +Will you join me in my Bible reading--since you and I are a family, can +not we have family worship?" + +Pliny arose quickly. "I will not disturb your meditations," he said, a +little nervously. "But you know my taste don't run in that line." + +Then he began a slow, monotonous walk up and down the room. Theodore +opened his Bible without further entreaty or comment; but as Pliny +watched the grave face, he could not fail to notice the disappointed +droop of his friend's features, and the line of sadness that gathered +about his sensitive mouth. Suddenly Pliny came to a stand-still, and +finally went abruptly to Theodore's side. + +"Dear old fellow!" he said, impulsively--laying his hand with a +familiar, almost caressing, movement on the arm of the other--"Would it +afford you an unparalleled satisfaction if I should settle quietly down +there, and read in that big book with you?" + +Theodore looked up with a faint smile, and returned steadily the look +from those handsome blue eyes as he said-- + +"More than I can tell you." + +"Then hang me if I don't do it! Mind, I don't see in what the +satisfaction consists, but that is not necessary, I suppose, in order to +make my act meritorious. Now, here goes!" Down he dropped into a chair, +and resolutely took hold of one side of the large handsome Bible. +Theodore reveled in Bibles; he had them of numerous sizes and of great +beauty; he had not forgotten the time when he had none at all, and after +that how precious two leaves of the Sacred Book became to him. After the +reading, he linked his arm in Pliny's, and said in so winning and withal +so natural and matter-of-course a tone, "It will be very pleasant to +have a companion to kneel with me--I have always felt a desire for one," +that Pliny did not choose to decline. So the young man, reared in a +Christian city, surrounded by hundreds of Christian men and women, felt +himself personally prayed for, for the first time in his life. + +The rest of that winter was a busy one--full of many and bewildering +cares. Besides his pressing duties at the store--and they daily grew +more pressing, as the responsibilities of the business were thrown more +and more upon him--Theodore had undertaken to be a constant shield and +guard to the constantly tempted young man. + +No one who has not tried it knows or _can_ know how heavy is such a +weight. Daily the sense of it grew upon Theodore; not for an hour did he +dare relax his vigilance; he was perfectly overwhelmed with the +countless snares that lay in wait _everywhere_ to tempt to ruin. Not a +journey to or from the store, not a trip to any part of the city or any +errand whatever, but was fraught with danger, and evening parties and +receptions and concerts were absolute terrors to Theodore; nor was it a +light task to arrange his affairs in such a manner as to be always ready +for any whim that chanced to possess Pliny's brain--and when that was +arranged, it was sometimes equally difficult to discover a pretext for +his constant attendance, in order that Pliny's sensitive blood might not +arise in opposition to this surveillance. However, the plans, most +carefully and prayerfully formed, were not to be lightly resigned, and +with one new excuse after another, and with Mr. Stephens always for his +aid, Theodore managed to get successfully through the winter--or, if not +successfully, at least with but few drawbacks. And of these--oh, strange +and bitter thought!--the Hastings family were the worst. + +On his visits to his father's house, Pliny had to go alone. Mr. Hastings +had been sore opposed to the new arrangements, both as regarded business +and boarding, from the very first, and, though he could not conquer +Pliny's determination, had managed to make it very uncomfortable for +him; had chosen also to lay the principal blame of the entire +arrangement--where, indeed, it belonged--on Theodore, and glowered on +him accordingly. So Theodore staid away from the great house altogether, +and struggled between his desire to keep Pliny away from that direst of +all temptations, and his desire not to interfere with the filial duties +which Pliny ought to have had, even though no such ideas possessed him. +Twice during the winter Pliny took from his father's hand the glass of +sparkling wine, and thereby roused afresh the demon who was only +slumbering within him--he came out from the grand mansion disgusted, +frightened at his broken resolves, and yet, towering above every other +feeling, was the awful desire to have more of the poison; and what would +have been the closing scene of that visit home, but for one thing, +Pliny in his sane moments next day shuddered to think. The one thing +was, that Theodore, first worried, and then alarmed at his friend's long +stay, finally started in search of him, and took care that their ride +down town should be in the same car, and by coaxings and beguilings, and +also by force of a stronger will, enticed him home, and petted him +tenderly through the fiery headache which the one glass and the +tremendous excitement had induced. + +The second visit was the more dangerous, and fraught with direr +consequences. Theodore was unexpectedly detained by pressing business, +and Pliny seized upon that unfortunate evening in which to go home; and +he reeled back to his room at midnight, just sense enough left to find +his way home, with the aid of a policeman. + +Theodore sat up during the rest of that long, weary night, and bathed +the throbbing temples, and soothed as best he could the crazed brain, +and groaned in spirit, and prayed in almost hopeless agony; yet, while +he prayed, his faith arose once more, and once more the assurance seemed +to come to him that Christ had not died for this soul in vain. + +There was one important matter that occurred during the winter. Over the +doors of Mr. Stephens' dry-goods establishment had hung for a dozen +years the sign: "Stephens & Co.," the "Co." standing for a branch house +in Chicago. It was a glowing April morning in which Theodore and Pliny, +both a little belated by a business entanglement of bills and figures +that had taken half the night to set straight, were rushing along with +rapid strides. They had left the street-car at the corner, and the hight +of their present ambition was to reach the store before the city clock +struck again, which thing it seemed on the point of doing, when suddenly +both came to a halt and stared first at the store opposite, and then at +each other in speechless amazement. The familiar sign was gone, and in +its place there glittered and sparkled in the crisp air and early +sunshine a new one-- + + "STEPHENS, MALLERY & CO." + +Theodore rubbed his eyes, and stared in speechless wonder, while Pliny +gave vent to his emotions in lucid ejaculatory sentences: + +"Well! upon my word and honor!--As sure as I'm alive!--If that don't +beat me!" + +Meantime Theodore dashed abruptly across the road and entered the store, +Pliny following more leisurely, still staring at the magic sign. The +clerks all bowed and smiled most broadly as the junior partner passed +down the store; but that gentleman was too excited to notice them +closely, and hurried into the private office. Mr. Stephens came forward +on his entrance, his face all aglow with smiles, and cordially held out +his hand. + +"Mr. Stephens!" gasped Theodore, "how--what?" and then, utterly +overcome, sank into one of the office-chairs, and covered his face with +his hands. + +"My dear boy," said Mr. Stephens, with an outward calmness and an inward +chuckle, "what is the matter with you this morning?" + +"What does it mean, sir? How came you to? How could you?" + +"Lucid questions, my boy! I stand for one pronoun, but who is _it_?" + +"_You_ know, Mr. Stephens. The sign! The name!" + +"As for the sign, my dear fellow, it announces the name of the firm, as +heretofore. I hope my partner will pardon me for keeping my name first. +The new name means a great deal to me. It has meant a great deal in past +days, and I mean it shall mean a great deal more in many ways. Are you +answered, my friend?" + +Then followed a long, long talk--eager and excited on Theodore's part; +earnest and serious on Mr. Stephens'--the substance of which was that +the young clerk had been entered as full partner in the extensive and +ever-increasing business, or at least was to be so entered as soon as +what Mr. Stephens called the trivialities of the law had been attended +to. + +"You told me a few days ago that you had fully decided to make the +mercantile business yours for life, and as I thought I could offer you +as good advantages as you could find elsewhere, I couldn't resist the +temptation to give you a bit of a surprise," explained Mr. Stephens, as +Theodore still looked bewildered. "I hope you are not offended at my +rudeness?" This he added gravely, but with a little roguish twinkle in +his eyes. + +"But, Mr. Stephens, how can it be? Why I I haven't a cent of money in +the world to put in the firm. It is utterly unjust to yourself," +explained Theodore, in distressed tones. + +"I am not so sure of that first statement, my boy;" and now both eyes +and face expressed a business-like gravity. "I remember, if you do not, +that I am twenty thousand dollars better off to-day than I should have +been but for your courage and unparalleled presence of mind. Moreover, +you have more funds than you seem to be aware of. Do you remember a +certain ten-dollar bill which you brought to me one midnight? Well, I +held that bill in my hand, intending to present it to you to assist you +in setting up business for yourself; but on learning that your +intentions were to open a hotel, I concluded to await the development of +affairs and invest otherwise. After I became conversant with your +peculiar ideas concerning hotels, I discovered that you needed no +assistance from me. But that ten dollars I invested sacredly for you, +and a more remarkable ten dollars never came into my hands. Everything +that I have touched through it has turned to gold. Your bank-book is in +the left hand private drawer of my secretary. So, young man, you can +investigate the state of your funds whenever you choose, and bestow +whatever portion of them upon the new firm that your wisdom suggests." + +Theodore still remained with his elbow leaning on the table, and his +face shaded with his hand. After a little silence Mr. Stephens came +around to him and placed two hands trembling with earnestness on his +slightly bowed head, and spoke in gentler tones than he had used +heretofore. + +"Above and beyond all these things, my dear boy, you are the only son I +ever had, and you have well and faithfully filled a son's place to me. +May I not do what I will for my own?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +THEODORE'S INSPIRATION. + + +"New York postmark--that's from Ingolds & Ferry, I suppose. Chicago, +that must be from Southy, and this is Ned's scrawling hand; now for the +fourth--Albany. Who the mischief writes me from Albany?" + +This was Mr. Stephens' running commentary on his letters. He broke the +seal of the Albany one, and glanced at its contents. + +"Um," he said, meditatively, leaning his elbow on the table and his chin +on his hand. "Now to whom shall I send this appeal? I don't know of any +one. Mallery?" + +"Yes, sir," answered Theodore from behind the screen. + +"Do you know of any one who could go to Albany in December and +give--stop, I know myself. Yes, that's an idea." + +"You certainly know more than I do then," answered Theodore, laughing. +"What do you happen to be talking about, sir?" + +"How soon can you give me ten minutes of your valuable time?" + +"At once, if you so desire," and the young man emerged into the main +office, and came forward to the desk. + +"Read that, then," answered Mr. Stephens, tossing him the Albany letter. + +"A temperance lecture, eh, before the Association; that's good," said +Theodore, running his eye rapidly over the few lines of writing. "Mr. +Ryan would be a capital man to send them. Don't you think so, sir? But +then it's in December. Ryan will not have returned from Chicago by that +time, I fear; but then there's Mr. Williams, he is a fine speaker and--" + +"I tell you I've found a man," interrupted Mr. Stephens; "the very man. +Theodore, you must deliver that temperance lecture yourself." + +"What a preposterous idea!" And before Theodore proceeded further he +gave himself up to a burst of merriment; then he added: "I thought you a +wiser man than that, sir. Why, I have never peeped in public." + +"Don't you take part in the Wednesday meetings every evening, and lead +three out of four of the Saturday evening ones, and speak in the Young +Men's Association meetings every month?" + +"Yes, sir, certainly; but those are religious meetings, entirely +different matters, and I--why, Mr. Stephens, I never thought of such a +thing!" + +"I have often. I tell you, Theodore, you have talents in that direction. +You think and feel deeply on this matter of intemperance. If you don't +understand it thoroughly in all its bearings, I'm sure I don't know who +does, and you speak fluently and logically on any subject. Of course +there must be a first time, and Albany is as good a place as any. This +old friend of mine who has written for a speaker, will treat you like a +prince, and there is plenty of time for preparation; the meeting is not +until the 22d of December, and this is only October. My heart is very +much set on this, my boy." + +But Theodore could not do much besides laugh; he burst into another +merry peal as he said: + +"My dear sir, I _can't_ jump into the person of a full-fledged orator in +a month, not even to please _you_." + +"I'll send in your name and acceptance," was Mr. Stephens' positive +answer. "There is no reason why you should grow into the character of a +quiet, rusty merchant like myself. I mean to send you adrift now and +then. Besides, you owe it to the cause, I tell you; you could do +incalculable good in that way." + +But Theodore was not to be persuaded. The most that Mr. Stephens could +win from him was permission to delay answering the letter a few days, +and the promise that meantime he would make the matter a subject of +prayerful consideration. + +"Meantime there is another matter on hand," said Mr. Stephens, turning +promptly, as was his custom, from one item of business to another. +"Information derived from Hoyt demands either your or my immediate +presence in their establishment. You understand the state of their +affairs, do you not?" + +"Perfectly. Am I to attend to that business?" + +"Well, it would be a great relief to me if you could. I hate the cars." + +"Very well, sir; I can go of course. What time shall I start?" + +"What time _can_ you start?" + +Theodore glanced at his watch. + +"The Express goes up in forty minutes. Shall I take that train?" + +Mr. Stephens smiled, and made what sounded like an irrelevant reply: + +"Your executive ability is perfectly refreshing, Theodore, to a man of +my gray hairs and crushing weight of business." + +Theodore seemed to consider the reply sufficiently explicit, and in +forty minutes afterward, valise in hand, swung himself on the Express +train just as it was leaving the depot. Mr. Stephens' last remark to him +had been, "Remember, my boy, to think of that matter carefully, and be +prepared to give me a favorable answer; my heart is set on it." And +Theodore had laughed and responded, "If I have an inspiration during my +absence I may conclude to gratify you." + + * * * * * + +This all happened on an October day. The rest of the winter that was in +progress during that last chapter, and the long, bright summer, had +rolled away, and now another winter was almost ready to begin its work. +The summer had been a quiet one aside from business cares and +excitements. Pliny still retained his boarding place in the quiet asylum +that had opened to him when his own home had proved so dangerous a +place. Dora Hastings had spent the most of the summer with her parents, +traveling East and North, but Pliny had remained bravely at his post +struggling still with his enemy, but still persisting in carrying on the +warfare alone. This one matter was a sharp trial to Theodore's faith; +indeed he felt himself growing almost impatient. + +"Why _must_ it be that _he_ should halt and hesitate so long!" he +exclaimed in a nervous and almost a petulant tone, as he paced up and +down the back parlor one evening, after having had a talk with the +little mother. "I am sure if ever I had faith for any one in the world I +had for him." + +"Have you got it now?" she asked him, gently. "It appears to me as if +you were pretty impatient--kind as if you thought you had prayed prayers +enough, and it was high time they were answered." + +Theodore looked surprised and disturbed, and continued his walk up and +down the room for a few moments in silence; then he came over to the +arm-chair where she sat, and resting his hand on her arm, spoke low and +gently: + +"You probe to the very depth, dear friend. Thank you for your +faithfulness. I see I must commence anew, and pray, 'Lord, I believe; +help thou mine unbelief.'" + + * * * * * + +Well, the Express train whizzed past half a dozen minor stations, and +halted at last at the place of Theodore's destination. Circumstances +favored him, and the business that brought him thither was promptly +dispatched. Then a consultation with his time-table and watch showed him +a full hour of unoccupied time. He cast about him for some way of +occupying it agreeably. Just across the street was a pleasant building, +and a pleasant sign, "General News Depot and Reading Room." Thither he +went. The collection of books was unusually large and choice, Theodore +selected a book of reference that he had long been desiring to see and +took a seat. Several gentlemen were present, engaged in reading. + +Presently the quiet was interrupted by the entrance of a middle-aged +gentleman, to whom the courteous librarian immediately addressed +himself. + +"Good-afternoon, Mr. Cranmer. Can I serve you to a book?" + +"No, sir," responded the new-comer, promptly. "I don't patronize this +institution, you know, sir." + +Theodore glanced up to see what sort of a personage this could be who +was so indifferent to his privileges. He looked the gentleman in every +sense, refined, cultivated and intellectual. At the same moment one of +the other readers addressed him. + +"Why the mischief don't you, Cranmer? Have you read every book there is +in the world, and feel no need of further information?" + +"Not by any manner of means; but I'm a temperance man myself." + +"What on earth has that to do with it?" + +And Theodore found himself wondering and listening intently for the +answer. + +"A great deal in this establishment. The truth is, if we had no +drunkards we'd have no books." + +"What's the meaning of your riddle, Cranmer?" queried an older and +graver gentleman, who had been intently poring over a ponderous volume. + +"Don't you know how the thing is done?" said Cranmer, turning briskly +around toward the new speaker. "They use the license money of this +honorable and respectable old town to replenish the library!" + +"I don't see what that has to do with temperance," promptly retorted the +young man who had begun the conversation. "Using the money for a good +purpose doesn't make drunkards. To what wicked use would _you_ have the +funds put?" + +"I would keep the potter's field in decent order, and defray the funeral +expenses of murderers and paupers. That would be putting liquor money to +a legitimate use, making it defray its own expenses," returned Mr. +Cranmer, composedly. + +"Well but, Cranmer," interposed the old gentleman, "explain your +position. It isn't the money belonging to the poor drunken wretches +that we use for the library, it's only what we make the scamps pay for +the privilege of doing business." + +"For the privilege of making drunkards," retorted Mr. Cranmer. "Here, +I'll explain my position by illustrating. As I was coming up just now I +met old Connor's boy; he was coming up here, too. The poor fellow is +hungering and thirsting after books. He has been at work over hours to +my certain knowledge, for six weeks, to earn his dollar with which to +join this Library Association. He just accomplished the feat last night, +and was rushing over here, dollar in hand, and joy in his face. Just as +he reached the door old Connor stumbled and staggered along with his jug +in his hand, of course. 'Here you,' he said to the boy, 'what you hiding +under your arm? And what you about, anyhow? Mischief, I'll be bound. +Here give it to me whatever 'tis.' Now, gentlemen, I stood there, more +shame to me, and saw that poor wretch of a father deliberately take that +hard-earned dollar away from his boy. I saw the boy go crying off, and +the father stagger to that rum hole across the street, get his jug +filled, and pay that dollar! Now when that respectable rum-seller comes +to pay his license money, he is as likely to bring that stolen dollar as +any other--and they are all stolen in the first place from wives and +children; and when this _splendid_ Library Association, which is an +honor to the town, buys its next books, it buys them with money stolen +from the Jimmy Connors of the world. That's my opinion in plain English, +and I don't propose to pay my dollar in supporting any such +anti-temperance institution." + +Theodore had listened attentively to this conversation, and his blood +was roused and boiling. He turned quickly away from the long line of +splendid books, and addressed Mr. Cranmer. + +"I entirely agree with your position, sir," he said, earnestly. "And I +do not see how it is possible for any strictly temperance man to feel +otherwise." + +"Good for you, young man," responded Mr. Cranmer, warmly. "I like +especially to see a _young_ man sound and square on this subject." + +"Well, now, I call that straining at a gnat and swallowing a camel," +remarked a gentleman who had heretofore taken no part in the +conversation. "I'm a temperance man myself, always have been, but I +consider that carrying the thing to a ridiculous extreme." + +At this point Theodore, much to his regret, heard the train whistle, and +was obliged to leave the question unsettled; but the first remark he +made to Mr. Stephens on his return, after business was disposed of, +was: + +"Well, sir, I found my inspiration." + +"Ah, ha!" said Mr. Stephens. "Glad of that. What is your text?" + +"The amazing consistency of the so-called temperance world," answered +Theodore, dryly. + +It was this combination of circumstances that led him to take his seat +one wintry morning in a Buffalo train, himself ticketed through to +Albany. There was still five minutes before the train would start; and +while he chatted with Jim who had come to see him off, the opening door +revealed the portly form of Mr. Hastings, muffled to the throat in furs, +and with the identical "Wolfie" thrown over his arm--newly lined indeed +in brilliant red, but recognized in an instant by its soft peculiar fur, +and familiar to Theodore as the face of an old friend. Instantly his +memory traveled back to the scenes connected with that long-ago and +well-remembered journey when "Wolfie" proved such a faithful friend to +him. His face flushed at the thought of it, and yet the corners of his +mouth quivered with laughter. He flushed at the memory of the wretched +little vagrant that he was at that time, and he laughed at the +recollection of "Wolfie's" protecting folds and the new and delicious +sense of warmth that they imparted to him. What a curious world it was. +There sat Mr. Hastings in front of him now, as he had sat then, a +trifle older, more portly, but in all essential respects the same +haughty, handsome gentleman. But what mortal could recognize in himself +the little wretched vagabond known familiarly as "Tode Mall!" He tried +to travel backward and imagine himself that young scamp who stole his +passage from Albany to Buffalo, at which thought the blood rolled again +into his face, and he felt an instinctive desire to go at once and seek +out the proper authorities and pay for that surreptitious ride. +Moreover, he resolved that being an honest man now it was his duty so to +do, and that it should be the first item of business to which he would +attend after leaving the cars. Then he glanced about him to see if he +could establish his identity with the little ragged boy. A gentleman +with gray hair and gold spectacles bowed and addressed him. + +"Good-morning, Mr. Mallery. Going East far?" + +This was the merchant whose store joined their own. He knew nothing +about "Tode Mall," but he held intimate business relations with the +junior partner of the great firm. Even Mr. Hastings bowed stiffly. Mr. +Stephens' partner and the small boy who traveled in his company years +before were two different persons even to him. At one of the branch +stations that gentleman left the train, much to Theodore's regret, as +he had a curious desire to follow him once more in his journeyings and +note the contrasts time had made. Arrived in Albany, he looked with +curious eyes on the familiar and yet unfamiliar streets. Every five +minutes he met men whom he had known well in his boyhood. He recognized +them instantly now. They did not look greatly changed to him, yet not a +living soul knew him. He went into establishments from which he had been +unceremoniously ordered, not to say kicked, years before, and presented +their business card, "Stephens, Mallery & Co.," and was treated by those +same business men with the utmost courtesy and cordiality. He went down +some of the old familiar haunts, and could not feel that they had much +improved. He met a bloated, disfigured, wretched looking man, and +something in the peculiar slouching gate seemed familiar to him. He made +inquiries, and found him to be the person whom he had half surmised, the +old-time friend of his boyhood, Jerry, the only one who had had a word +of half comfort to bestow on him when he landed in Albany that eventful +night after his trip with Mr. Hastings, homeless and desolate. Jerry +stared at him now, a drunken, sleepy stare, and then instinctively stood +aside to let the gentleman pass, never dreaming that they had rolled in +the same gutter many a time. Does it seem strange to you that during all +these years Theodore had not long ere this returned to this old home of +his and sought out that wretched father? Sometimes it seemed very +strange to him. Don't imagine that he had not given it long and serious +thought, but he had shrunken from it with unutterable terror and dismay; +he had no loving, tender memories of his father--nothing but cruelty and +drunkenness and sin by which to remember him. Still oftentimes during +these later years he had told himself that he ought to seek out his +father; he ought to make some effort to reclaim him. He had prayed for +him constantly, fervently, had poured out his whole soul in that one +great desire; still he knew and remembered that "faith without works is +dead." He had made some effort, had written earnest appeals hot from his +heart, to which he had received no sort of a reply. He had written to +one and another in Albany, prominent names that he remembered, clergymen +of the city as he learned their addresses, begging for some assistance +in the search after his father. Each and all of these attempts had +proved failures. To some of his letters he had received answers, +courteous, Christian answers, and the gentlemen had lent him their time +and aid, but to no purpose. Apparently the name and place of the poor, +low rum-seller had faded from the memory of the Albanians. He had +disappeared one night after a more tremendous drunken row than usual, +and had never been seen or heard of since. This was all. And Theodore, +baffled and discouraged, had yet constantly meant to come to the search +in person, and as constantly had shrunken from setting out, and delayed +and excused himself until the present time. Now, however, he intended to +set about it with vigor. "No matter what he is, nor how low he has +sunken, he is _my father_, and as such I owe him a duty; and I must +constantly remember that it is not he of whom I have bitter memories, +but rum, rum! rum!!" This he told himself with firmly set lips, and a +white, determined face. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +DAWN AND DARKNESS. + + +Tweddle Hall was reasonably full. The citizens of Albany had turned out +well to do their townsman honor, howbeit they did not know that he had +tumbled about in their gutters and straggled about their streets up +almost to the verge of young manhood. Theodore had felt many misgivings +since that day when he suddenly and almost unexpectedly to himself +pledged his word to address an Albany audience on this evening; but he +had three things to assist him. First, he was thoroughly and terribly in +earnest; secondly, he was entirely posted on all the arguments for and +against this mammoth subject of temperance--he had studied it carefully +and diligently; and, finally, he always grew so tremendously indignant +and sarcastic over the monstrous wrong, and the ridiculous and +inconsistent opinions held by the masses, that in ten minutes after he +commenced talking about it he would have forgotten his audience in his +massive subject, even though the President and his Cabinet had been +among them. So on this particular evening, his blood roused to the +boiling point through brooding over the wrongs that had come to him by +the help of this fiend, he spoke as he had no idea that he _could_ +speak. Had Mr. Stephens been one of his auditors his face might have +glowed with pride over his protege. Had Mr. Birge been present to listen +to the eloquent appeal his heart might have thanked God that the little +yellow-haired boy who stood in solemn awe and took in the meaning of his +mother's only prayer, had lived to answer it so fully and grandly in the +city of his birth. + +After the address there was a pledge circulated. Theodore was the first +to write his name in bold, firm letters, and he remarked to the chairman +as he wrote: "This is the fifteenth pledge that I have signed. I am +prouder every time I write my name in one." There were many signers that +evening, among them several whose tottering steps had to be steadied as +they came forward. Then presently there came a pretty girl, leading with +gentle hand the trembling form of an old man; both faces looked +somewhat familiar to Theodore, yet he could not locate them. + +"Who are those two?" he said, as the little girlish white hand steadied +the feeble fingers of the old man. + +"That is an interesting case. The girl has been the salvation of the old +man; he is her grandfather. They belonged to a miserable set, the lowest +of the low, but there seemed to be something more than human about the +child. Her father was killed in a drunken broil, and her mother lay +drunk at the time, and died soon after; but she clung to this old man, +followed him everywhere, even to rum holes. She got mixed in with a +mission Sabbath-school about that time, started down in that vile region +where she lived; that was a great thing, too; it was sustained +principally by an earnest young man by the name of Birge--and, by the +way, I have heard that he has since become a minister and is preaching +in Cleveland." + +"He is my pastor," answered Theodore, while his eyes sparkled. + +"Is it possible! Well, now, if that isn't a remarkable coincidence!" + +Theodore knew of some more coincidences quite as remarkable, but he only +said: + +"And what further about this child?" + +"Why, I really think she became a Christian, then and there, young as +she was--not more than five or six. After that she followed up her +grandfather more closely than ever. People have seen her kneel right +down in the street, and ask God to 'make grandpa come home with her +right away.' The old man gave up his rum after a time, though no one +ever thought he would. He has since been converted, and they two are the +most active temperance reformers that we have in the city. They are at +every meeting, and are constantly signing pledges and leading up others +to do so." + +"What are their names?" + +"He is Grandfather Potter--used to be known as 'old Toper Potter;' and +she is known throughout the city as 'Little Kitty McKay.'" + +"Why! she lived--" exclaimed Theodore; then he stopped. What possible +use could there be in telling the chairman of this great meeting that +"little Kitty McKay" lived in the attic of a certain house on Rensselaer +Street at the same time that he lived in the basement; that her father +was killed on the same night in which his mother died, and that in +consequence of the fight and the murder, both of which took place in his +father's rum cellar, he and his father had hurriedly decamped in the +night, and wandered aimlessly for two years, thereby missing Mr. Birge's +little mission school? + +"What did you say, sir?" said the chairman, bending deferentially toward +the distinguished orator of the evening. + +"She lived in Albany during this time, did you say?" + +"Oh yes, sir; she has never been out of this city." + +And then, leaving the chairman to wonder what that could possibly have +to do with the subject, Theodore bent eagerly forward. Two men were +taking slow steps down the central aisle, trying to urge on the +irresolute steps of the third--and the third one was Jerry! They were +trying to get him forward to the pledge table. Would they succeed? It +looked extremely doubtful. Jerry was shaking his head in answer to their +low entreaties, and trying to turn back. Theodore arose suddenly, ran +lightly down the steps, and advanced to his side. + +"Jerry," he said, in distinct, low tones, "come; you used to be a good +friend of mine, and I want you to do a good turn for me now, and sign +this pledge." + +Jerry turned bleared, rum-weakened eyes on him, and said in a thick, +wondering voice: + +"Who the dickens be you?" + +"I'm an old friend of yours. Don't you know me? I used to be Tode Mall. +Don't you remember? Come, take my arm; you and I have walked arm in arm +down Broadway many a time; let us walk together now down this aisle and +sign the pledge together." + +For all answer Jerry turned astounded eyes upon the speaker, and +muttered in an under tone: + +"You be hanged! 'Tain't no such--yes, 'tis--no 'tain't--'tis, +too--them's his eyes and his nose! I'll be shot if it ain't Tode Mall +himself!" + +"Yes," said Theodore, "I'm myself positively, and I want you to come +with me and sign that pledge. I signed it years ago, and with God's help +it has made a man of me. It will help you, Jerry. Come." + +Great was the rustle of excitement in the hall as the notorious Jerry +presently moved down the aisle leaning on the arm of the orator, and it +began to be whispered through the crowd that he was once a resident of +Albany, and actually a friend of that "dreadful Jerry Collins!" Many and +wild were the surmises concerning him; but Theodore, all unconscious and +indifferent, glowed with thankful pride as he steadied the pen in the +trembling hand, and saw poor Jerry's name fairly written under the +solemn pledge. On the morrow the eager search for the missing father was +continued, aided by Jerry and by several others as it gradually began to +dawn upon their minds who the father was, and who and what the son had +become. Utterly in vain! Had the earth on some dark night opened +suddenly and silently and swallowed him, he could not, it would seem, +have passed more utterly from mortal knowledge than he had. As the +search grew more fruitless Theodore's anxiety deepened. He prayed and +mourned over that lost father, and it was with an unutterably sad heart +that he finally dropped as a worthless straw the last seeming clew and +gave him up. + +There was one other sacred duty to perform. When the orphan son left +Albany one winter morning there stood in one of the marble shops of the +city, ready to be set up with the first breath of spring, a plain and +simple tombstone bearing for record only these two words, "Dear Mother," +and underneath this seemingly inappropriate inscription, understood only +by himself, "Before they call I will answer, and while they are yet +speaking I will hear." The day was unusually cold in which Theodore, on +his homeward journey, was delayed at a quiet little town. The Express +train, due at three o'clock, had been telegraphed three hours behind +time, and he took his way somewhat disconsolately to a dingy little +hotel to pass the intervening hours as best he might. "Strange!" he +muttered drearily, "that I should have been delayed just here, only +forty miles from home, with not a single earthly object of interest to +help pass the hours away." He went forward to the forlorn little parlor, +where a few sticks of wet wood were sizzling and smoking, and vainly +trying to burn in a little monster of a stove over in one corner. +Theodore flung himself into a seat in front of this attempt at a fire, +kept his overcoat on for the sake of warmth, and looked about him for +some entertainment. He found it promptly. Thrown over the back of a +chair in the opposite corner was a great fur overcoat, with a brilliant +red lining, and an unmistakable something about it that distinguished it +from all other overcoats in the world. Theodore knew at a glance that it +belonged to Mr. Hastings. He started up and went toward it, smiling and +saying within himself: "Is this furry creature my good or evil genius, +this time, I wonder?" Then he went out to the horrible bar-room to make +inquiries. The clerk knew nothing about Mr. Hastings; had never heard +his name as he knew of. There was a man there, a stranger--had been for +two days; he was sick, and they had put him to bed, and they were doing +what they could for him. He had seemed unable to give his name or his +residence. Paralysis, or something of that sort, he believed the doctor +called it. It had begun with a kind of a fit. Yes, that fur overcoat +belonged to him. Theodore requested to be shown immediately to the +stranger's room. Alone, helpless, speechless, in the dingiest and most +comfortless of rooms, he found Mr. Hastings! He went forward with eager, +pitying haste, and spoke to the poor man--no answer, only a pitiful +contortion of the face, and a hopeless attempt to raise the useless +hand. Clearly there was work enough for the next three hours! With the +promptness, not only natural in him, but added to by long habit, +Theodore went to work. Under his orders the room assumed very speedily a +different aspect; the attending physician was sent for and consulted +with; he was a dull little man, but appeared to know enough to say that +he didn't know what to do for the sick man. "It was a curious case; he +had never seen its like before." + +"Then why haven't you telegraphed for his own physician and friends?" +questioned Theodore, indignantly. + +"Why, bless your heart, sir!" exclaimed the proprietor of the hotel, +"where would you have us telegraph, and to whom? He came here and fell +down in a fit, and hasn't spoken since; and he had no baggage nor papers +about him, so far as I can find, for it was precious little he would let +me look. I assure you we have done our best," he added, in an injured +tone. + +Theodore apologised for his suspicious words; and failing to get even a +nod from the sick man, to show that he understood his eager questions, +acted on his own responsibility, and made all haste to the telegraph +office. There he dispatched separate messages to Mrs. Hastings and +Pliny, adding to Pliny's the words, "Bring a doctor." To Mr. Stephens he +said, "Unavoidably detained." Then one, utterly on his own private +responsibility, to Dr. Arnold, "Will you come to C---- by first train? A +case of life and death." After that there was nothing to do but wait. +Another sick-bed! Theodore sat down beside it in solemn wonderment over +the incidents, many and varied, that were constantly bringing him in +contact with this man and his family. The great troubled eyes of the +sick man followed his every movement, and he could not resist the +impression that at last they seemed to recognize him and take in some +thought of hope. It seemed terrible, this living death, this unutterable +silence, and yet those staring eyes, he did not know whether it was a +hopeful indication or otherwise, but at last they closed and the +sufferer seemed to sleep heavily. Wearily passed the hours; he chose not +to leave his charge to meet the two o'clock train, but sent a carriage +and waited in nervous torture for the whistle of the train. At last +there was a sound of arrival, and eager voices of inquiry below. He left +in charge the stupid little doctor, who was doing his utmost to keep +awake, and went down stairs. They were all there, frightened and +inquiring--Mrs. Hastings, Dora, Pliny, and, oh joy! Dr. Arnold himself! +Theodore threw open the door of the dingy parlor. + +"Come in, please all of you," he said, in a tone of gentle authority; +"and be as quiet as possible." Nevertheless they all talked at once. + +"Is it a fever?" Mrs. Hastings asked, shivering and cowering in a +frightened way over the wretch of a stove. + +"What is it, Mallery?" Pliny asked in the same breath; while even the +taciturn doctor questioned, "What is the meaning of my imperative +summons?" + +For them all Theodore had prompt answers. + +"No, madam"--to Mrs. Hastings--"Not a fever, I think. Pliny, I hardly +know what it is--the doctor in attendance seems equally ignorant. Dr. +Arnold, if you will come with me, and these friends will wait a few +moments, perhaps I can bring them an encouraging report." + +In this commotion only Dora kept white, silent lips, nerved herself as +best she could for whatever this night was to bring forth, and waited. +Theodore could not resist going over to her for an instant. She turned +quickly to him, and laid a small quivering hand on his arm-- + +"Mr. Mallery, I know _you_ will tell me _the truth_!" + +"The _entire_ truth, Miss Dora, just as soon as I know it. I do not know +how much the danger is; yet, meantime, flee to the Strong for strength. +Will you come, Dr. Arnold?" + +Pliny followed, and the three moved silently up to the quiet chamber. +Dr. Arnold stood quietly before the sleeper--felt his pulse, bent his +head and listened to the beating heart, touched with practiced fingers +the swollen veins in his temples, then stood up and turned toward the +waiting gentlemen. + +"Well, doctor?" said Theodore, with nervous impatience, while Pliny +fairly held his breath to hear the answer; it came distinct and firm +from the doctor's lips--not harshly, but with terrible truthfulness: + +"He is entirely beyond human aid, Mr. Mallery!" + +Then the room seemed to Pliny suddenly to reel and pitch forward, and +both doctors were busy, not with the father, but the son. + +What a fearful night it was! Pliny's shattered nervous system was not +strong enough to endure the shock. Mrs. Hastings went from one fainting +fit to another, with wild shrieks of anguish between--but all sound that +escaped Dora, when Theodore gently and tenderly told her "_the_ truth," +was, "Oh, God, have mercy!" and the rest of that night she spent at her +father's bedside, on her knees. + +It was high noon before his heavy slumber changed to that unending +sleep, but the change came--without word or sound or the quiver of a +muscle--suddenly, touched by its Maker's hand, the busy heart _stopped_. + +"Can you get through the rest of this fearful scene without me?" Dr. +Arnold asked in the afternoon when all was over. "I must go home. I have +had three telegrams this morning. Dr. Armitage is ill again, and his +wife has sent for me. I will try to make all arrangements for you in the +city, if you think you can get along." + +"Yes," said Theodore, "I can manage. Pliny is up again, you know. But, +doctor, tell me what this sickness was. What was the cause of the sudden +death?" + +"Rum!" said the doctor, in short, stern tones. "That is, an over-dose of +brandy was the immediate cause of the fit, and the continued use of +stimulants through many years the cause of the paralysis. It is just +another instance of a rum murder--that's hard language, but it's +true--and the son is fearfully predisposed to follow in his father's +footsteps. I fear for him." + +"Pliny has overcome that predisposition at last, I hope and trust. I +think he is safe now." + +"They are never safe, I think sometimes, until they are in their +graves," answered the doctor, moodily. + +"Or in the 'Everlasting Arms,'" returned Theodore, reverently. But while +this conversation was in progress, there was a more dangerous one going +on up-stairs. Mrs. Hastings had recovered from her swoons, but was lying +in a state of semi-exhaustion in her room. She raised her head languidly +as she heard Pliny's step, and gave her orders for the night. + +"Pliny, you will have to take the room that opens into this, for the +night. I am too nervous to be left alone. Dora is going to have the room +on the other side of the hall. She doesn't mind it in the least, she +says. I wish I had her nerves; and, Pliny, I feel that distressing +faintness every few minutes. You may order a bottle of wine brought up, +then pour out a glass and set it on that light stand by my bedside; then +do try to have the house quiet--the utter inconsiderateness of some +people is surprising!" + +Had Theodore been less occupied, or been at that moment within hearing, +he would have contrived to have these orders countermanded, or at least +carried out by some one besides Pliny; but he was making final +arrangements with the doctor in regard to meeting him on the next +morning's train, so he knew nothing about that fatal bottle of wine. + +"There is barely time for us to reach the cars," said Theodore, +hurriedly, the next morning, not turning his head from his valise to +look at the new-comer, but knowing by the step that it was Pliny. + +"I am sorry that we shall have to hurry your mother and sister so. How +are you feeling? Did you get any rest last night, my poor fellow?" + +"Feeling like a spinning-wheel going round backward and tipping over +every now and then," Pliny answered, in a thick, unnatural voice, and +then Theodore let valise and bundle and keys drop to the floor together, +and turned a face blanched with horror and dismay upon his friend. There +was no disguising the fearful fact--Pliny had been drinking, and even +then did not know in the least what he was about, or what was expected +from him. Removed by just a flight of stairs from his father's corpse, +having the charge of his mother on one side, and his young sister on the +other, he yet had forgotten it all, and lost himself in rum. Poor, +wretched Pliny! Poor Theodore as well! Which way should he turn? What do +or say next? How could he help yielding to utter despair? There were +circumstances about it that he did not know of; he knew nothing yet +about that bottle of wine, nor how Pliny had trembled before it; how he +had walked his floor and struggled with the evil spirit; how he had even +dropped upon his knees and tried to pray for strength; how he had even +lain down at last, considering the tempter vanquished; how it was not +until he was called toward morning to minister to his mother's needs, +and she had said, as she set down the wine-glass: + +"How deathly pale you look, Pliny! Take a swallow of wine; it will +strengthen you, and we all need to keep up our strength for this fearful +day. Just try it, dear--I know it will help you!" + +Then, indeed, had Pliny's courage failed him; he took the glass from his +mother's offering hand, and drained its contents. After that you might +as soon have tried to chain a tiger with a silken thread as to save +Pliny when once that awful appetite had been again aroused. Wine was as +nothing to him, but he was in a regularly licensed hotel, and there was +plenty of liquid fire displayed in a respectable and proper manner in +the bar-room. Thither he went, and speedily put himself in such a state +that he whistled and yelled and sang while his father's coffin was +being carried down stairs. + +Now, what was Theodore to do? He flung himself into a chair opposite his +bed, where Pliny had just sense enough left to throw himself, and tried +to think. Dora first--this knowledge, or if that were not possible, at +least this sight, must be spared her. But there was no time to spare--he +resolutely put down the heavy bitter feelings at his heart, and thought +hard and fast. Then he hastened down stairs. "I want two carriages +instead of one," he said to the landlord, who long ere this had felt a +dawning of the importance and wealth of this company that he was +entertaining, and was all attention. + +The second carriage was obtained, and Pliny, with the aid of the little +doctor, who had proved himself kind-hearted and discreet, was gotten +into it. + +"Where is Pliny?" queried Mrs. Hastings, as, after much trouble and +delay, she stood ready for Theodore's offered arm. + +"He has gone ahead with the baggage," was Theodore's brief explanation. +Then he hurried them so that there was no time for further questioning, +though Mrs. Hastings found chance to say that, "It was a very singular +arrangement--that she should suppose his mother and sister were of more +importance than the baggage." The train was in when they reached the +depot; but the faithful little doctor had obeyed Theodore's instructions +to the very letter--seating Pliny in the rear car, and checking baggage +and purchasing tickets for the entire party. When they were seated and +moving, Theodore left the ladies and sought out Pliny. He occupied a +full seat, and was asleep. With a relieved sigh, Theodore returned to +the mother and daughter--evaded the questions of the former as best he +could, speaking of headache and faintness, both of which troubles Pliny +undoubtedly had--but the great truthful eyes of Dora sought for, and +found the truth in his. + +"_Don't_ despair," he said to her, gently, even while his own heart was +heavy with something very like that feeling. "The Lord knows all about +it. He _will not_ forsake us." + +It was not to be supposed that a car ride of scarcely two hours would +steady poor Pliny's brain. Theodore had thought of that, and prepared +for saving him any unnecessary disgrace. McPherson, sitting in the +little office back of his "Temperance House" that morning, saw a boy +approaching with a telegram for him. It read: + + "Meet the 10.20 Express with a _close_ carriage. + + "THEODORE MALLERY." + +So, when the train steamed into the depot, the first person whom +Theodore saw was the faithful Jim. A few hurried words between them +explained matters, and Pliny was quietly helped by Jim and Mr. Stephens +into the close carriage and whirled away before Theodore had possessed +himself of all of Mrs. Hastings' extra shawls and wraps. + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +DEATH AND LIFE. + + +There had been a grand and solemn funeral. A long line of splendid +coaches had followed the millionaire to his last resting-place. Rosewood +and silver and velvet and crape had united to do him honor. Many stores +in the city were closed because Mr. Hastings had extensive business +connections with them. The hotels were closed because Mr. Hastings owned +three of the largest; the Euclid House was shuttered and bolted, and +long lines of heavy crape floated from the numerous doors. Many hats had +been uplifted, many gray heads bared, while the closing words of the +solemn burial service were once more repeated, and then the mourners had +returned to their places, and the long line of carriages had swept back, +and the city had taken down its shutters and opened its doors again, and +the world had rushed onward as before. Only in that one home--there the +desolation tarried. Through all the trouble and the pain Theodore had +been with them constantly. That first day he had accompanied them home +of necessity, their rightful protector being still in his drunken sleep. +Arrived there, they needed help and comfort even more than they had +before. There were friends by the hundreds, but Theodore could not fail +to see that while Mrs. Hastings appeared incapable of directing, and +indeed very indifferent as to what was done, Dora turned steadily and +constantly to him for advice and assistance. Pliny was prevailed upon to +go at once to his room, and was very soon asleep. When the wretched +stupor of sleep had worn itself out upon him, and left the fearful +headache to throb in his temples, Theodore was at his side, grave and +sad and silent, but patient still, and gentle as a woman. Only a few +words passed between them, Pliny speaking first in a cold, hard tone. + +"Go away, Mallery, and let me alone--everything is over. All I ask of +you is to send me a bottle of brandy, and never let me see your face +again." + +Theodore's only answer was to dip his hand again into cool water, and +pass it gently over the burning temples; then he said: + +"I think it would be well to lie still, Pliny. They do not need you +below at present, and your head is very hot." + +Pliny pushed feebly with his hand. + +"Go away, Mallery, I can not endure the sight of you. It is all over, I +say. I will never try again." + +Very quietly and steadily went the firm, cool hand across his forehead, +and the voice that answered him was quiet and firm. + +"No, I shall _not_ leave you, dear friend, and all is _not_ over. You +are going to try harder than ever before, and I am _never_ going to give +you up--NEVER!" + +Silence for a little, then Pliny said: + +"Then don't leave me, Theodore, not for an _instant_, _day or +night_--promise." + +And Theodore, ignoring all the strangeness of his position, promised, +and remained in the house, the watcher-guard and helper of more than +Pliny. + +Not for an instant did he lose sight of his friend; through all the +trying ordeal of the following days he was constantly present. Even in +Pliny's private interviews with his mother, Theodore hovered near, and +his was the first face that Pliny met when he came to the door to issue +any orders. It was Theodore's hand that held open the carriage door when +the son came to follow his father to his final resting-place, and it +was Theodore's arm that was linked in his when he walked down the hall +on his return. + +These were sad things to Theodore in another way. Despite all Mr. +Hastings' coldness to him, he had never been able to lose sight of the +memory of those days, now long gone by, in which the rich man had in a +sense been his protector and friend. He could not forget that it was +through _him_ that his first step upward had been taken. Aside from his +mother, Mr. Hastings was perhaps the first person for whom he felt a +touch of love. He could not forget him--could not cease to mourn for +him. + +There was, only a week after this, another funeral. There was no long +line of coaches, and no display of magnificence this time--only a quiet, +slow-moving procession following the unplumed hearse. Only one store in +the city was closed, and not a hundred people knew for whom the bell +tolled that day; but did ever truer mourners or more bleeding hearts +follow a coffin to its final resting-place than were those who gathered +around that open grave, and saw the body of Grandma McPherson laid to +rest for awhile, awaiting the call of the great Maker, when he should +bid it come up to meet its glorified spirit, and dwell in that wonderful +_Forever_! + +The messenger came suddenly to her, in the quiet of a moonlight night, +when all the household were asleep; and none who saw her in the morning, +with that blessed look upon her face, that told of earth receding and +heaven coming in, could doubt but that when in the silent night she +heard the Master whisper, "Come up higher," she made answer, "Even so, +Lord Jesus." + +So they laid her in the silent city on the hill, very near the spot +where, by and by, there towered and blazed Mr. Hastings' monument; but +when they set up _her_ white headstone they marked on it the blessed +words: "So he giveth his beloved sleep." + +But oh, that home left without a mother--the dear, loving, toiling, +patient, self-sacrificing mother! + +"Dear old lady," were the words in which Theodore had most often thought +of her, and I find on thinking back that I have constantly spoken of her +thus, but in reality she was not old at all; her early life of toil and +privation and sorrow had whitened her hair and marked heavy lines as of +age on her face. Her quaint dress gave added strength to this +impression, and Theodore when he first met her was at that age when all +women in caps and spectacles are old, so "Grandma" she had always been +to him, but they only wrote "sixty-three" on her coffin. + +They were sitting together, Theodore and Pliny, the first evening they +had spent alone since the changes had come to them. They were in their +pleasant room which must soon be vacated, for the guiding presence that +had made of them a family was wanting now. They had not been talking, +only the quietest common-places--neither of them seemed to have words +that they chose to utter. They were sitting in listless attitudes, each +occupying a great arm-chair, which they called "study-chairs." Theodore +with his hands clasped at the back of his head, and Pliny with his face +half hidden in his hands. The latter was the first to break the silence. + +"Mallery, you are _such_ a wonderment to me! What is there about me that +makes you cling so? I thought it was all over during that awful time. I +don't know how you can help despising me, but you don't know how it was. +Oh, Theodore, I tried, I struggled, I _meant_ to keep my promise, and +even at such a time as that the sight of my enemy conquered me. Now, +_what_ am I to do? There is no hope for me at all. I have no trust, no +confidence in myself." + +"That at least would be hopeful if it were strictly true," Theodore +answered, earnestly. "But, Pliny, it is not _quite_ true. If you utterly +distrusted yourself, _so_ utterly that you would stop trying to save +yourself alone, and accept the All-powerful Helper's aid, I should be at +rest about you forever." + +Contrary to his usual custom, Pliny had no answer ready, seemed not in +the least inclined to argue, and so Theodore only dropped a little sigh +and waited. It was not despair with him during these days--his faith had +reached high ground. "Ask, and ye _shall_ receive," had come home to him +with wonderful force just lately, while he waited on his knees; he felt +that he should never let go again for a moment. Still there seemed +nothing now for him to do, nothing but that constant watching and +constant praying; and he had only lately come to realize how much these +two things meant. Presently, sitting there in the silence, he bethought +himself of Winny in her desolation. + +"Pliny," he said, suddenly, "shall not you and I go down and try to help +poor Winny endure her loneliness? Do you know she is utterly alone? +Rick's wife is in her room with the child, and Rick and Jim just went +down the walk together." + +Pliny seemed nothing loth, and the two descended to the dear little +parlor where so many happy hours had been passed. Winny had turned down +the gas to its lowest ebb, and was curled into a corner of the sofa, +giving up to the form of grief in which she most indulged--utter, white +silence. She sat erect as the two young men entered, and Theodore turned +on the gas; Pliny took the other corner of the sofa, and Theodore the +chair opposite them. He looked from one to the other of the white worn +faces. What utter misery was expressed on both! A great longing came +over him to comfort them. But what comfort could he offer for such +troubles as theirs, save the one thing that both rejected? He gave voice +to his thoughts almost without intending it, with no other feeling than +that his great pity and desire for them were beyond his control. + +"How much, _how very much_, you two people need the same help! What +utter nothingness any other aid is. I have not the heart to offer either +of you the mockery of human sympathy," he spoke in gentle, sad tones, +and straight way was startled with himself for speaking at all. Winny +turned her great gray solemn eyes on her companion in the other corner. + +"Do _you_ feel the need of help?" she asked, gravely. "Heaven knows I +_do_ feel the need of something I don't possess. I am utterly +shipwrecked. I don't know which way to turn. I do, if I only would turn +that way. Mother had help all her life long--help that you and I know +nothing about. Do you doubt that?" + +"No, I _don't_," answered Pliny, solemnly. + +"Then why can't we have it if we both need it, and can get it for the +asking? Mother prayed for you as well as for me. The very last night of +her life I heard her. I know what she prayed for is so. I'm tired of +struggling. I've been at it, Theodore knows, for a great many years. If +mother were here to-night I would say to her: 'Mother, I'm not going to +struggle any more; I'm going to give myself up,' and that would make her +happy--oh, too happy for earth. Well, I'm going to, anyway. I'm sick of +myself; I want to get away from myself; I need help. You've struggled, +too; I know by myself. Suppose we both give up. Suppose we both kneel +down here this minute, and say that we are tired of ourselves, and +ashamed of ourselves and we want Christ. Theodore will say it for us. +Will you do it, Mr. Hastings?" + +She had spoken rapidly and with the same energy that characterized all +her words, but with solemn earnestness. Pliny bowed his head on his two +hands, while utter silence reigned; and Theodore, wonder-struck over the +turn that the conversation had taken, yet had breath enough left to say + +"Lord Jesus, help them, help them. Oh, remember Calvary and the 'many +mansions,' and help them both. Let the decision be now." This prayer he +repeated and re-repeated. Then suddenly Pliny arose. + +"If ever any one on earth needed help and strength it is I," he said, +hoarsely. "Yes, I _want_ to give up if I can," and he dropped upon his +knees. + +In an instant Winny was kneeling, and Theodore's whole soul was being +poured out in prayer for those two. A moment and then Pliny, in low, +hoarse voice said: + +"Lord, help me; I am sinking in deep waters." And Winny added: "Savior +of my mother, I am sick of sin; take me out of myself and into thee." + +When they arose Theodore stole quietly from the room and left them +alone. He went up to his own closet and prayed such prayer of +thanksgiving as was recorded in heaven that night, and the angels around +the throne had great joy. + + * * * * * + +Not yet were the shocks and changes coming to these households over. Not +two weeks had the millionaire been sleeping his last sleep, when there +burst like a bombshell on the business world the startling news that his +millions had vanished into vapor, or perhaps it would be speaking more +properly to say into poison. Strange, wild speculations, that the acute, +far-sighted business man would never have touched for a moment had he +been himself, had been entered into while his brain was struggling with +the fumes of brandy. Notes had been signed, sales had been made and +debts contracted upon an enormous scale; in short, the whole business +was in a bewildering entanglement. + +"There won't be five thousand dollars left out of the whole immense +property," said Edgar Ryan, one of the lawyers in charge, at the close +of a confidential conversation with Theodore, and Theodore, like the +rest of the world, stood for a little stunned and aghast over this new +calamity. + +"I never saw such a tangle in all my days," continued Ryan, earnestly. +"The amount of property shipwrecked is almost incredible. The man was +never intoxicated in his life, and yet it may be truthfully said of him +that he has let rum swallow all his millions. I tell you, Mallery, you +and Habakkuk were undoubtedly correct." + +Theodore turned and walked soberly and wearily away. He had not the +heart just then to smile over the memory of anything. There followed +weary, anxious, harassing days--days in which Pliny remained doggedly +behind the counter, and Theodore almost entirely ignored the store, and +gave himself up to following the footsteps of appraisers and auctioneers +and policemen, and in trying to shield Mrs. Hastings and Dora, for the +red flag floated out from the grand mansion proudly known for years as +Hastings' Hall. Oh change! Can anything in all time be compared in +swiftness and sharpness and terror to that monster who swoops down upon +our hearts and homes, and almost in the twinkling of an eye leaves them +desolate? Oh heaven! With all its glories and its joys, can anything in +all the bright description equal in peace and rest and comfort that one +precious sentence which admits of no thought of change: "And they shall +reign forever and ever?" + +There were plans innumerable to be made and acted upon. Rick and his +wife had gone back ere this to their Western home. Winny had steadily +refused their urgent petitions to accompany them, and worked faithfully +on in her honored position in one of the great graded schools. She and +Jim had taken board together in a quiet house as far removed from the +dear old home as possible. Mrs. Hastings had promptly accepted the +invitation of her husband's brother in Chicago. The invitation had also +been extended to Dora, and she had as promptly declined it. Her strong, +independent nature asserted itself here. She would not go to live a +dependent in her uncle's home. She would not teach music, for which she +pronounced herself unfitted by nature and education; but she would take +the boys' room next to Winny's in the aforesaid graded school, and share +the quiet little room in the boarding house, whither Winny had carried +many of her household treasures. + + * * * * * + +It was all settled at last, and when Mrs. Hastings was ticketed and +checked for Chicago under the escort of one of the firm who was going +thither, and the young ladies were quietly domiciled in their new and +pleasant room, Pliny and Theodore came to the first breathing place they +had found for many a day, and felt absolutely forlorn and disconsolate. +They were together in the store, the last clerk had departed, and their +loneliness only served to add to their sense of gloom. + +"Well," said Pliny, closing the ledger with a heavy sigh, "if we had a +local habitation we'd go to it now, wouldn't we?" + +"Probably," answered Theodore, drumming on the counter with his fingers. +"Where _are_ we going to live, Pliny, anyway?" + +"More than I know," was Pliny's gloomy answer. "In the street for all I +seem to care just at present." + +And then the office door clicked behind them, and Mr. Stephens appeared. + +"I thought you were gone, sir," said Pliny, rising in surprise. + +"No, I was waiting your movements. Come, young gentlemen, I want you +both to come home with me. There is no use in remonstrating, my boy," he +added, laying his hand on Theodore's shoulder, as the latter would have +spoken. "I have had your and Pliny's rooms ready for you this week past, +and have only waited until you were at leisure to take possession. I +keep bachelor's hall, you know, and if ever a man needed something new +and fresh about him I do. So do as I want you to for once, just to see +how it will seem." + +There was much talk about the matter, argument and counter argument; but +in the end Mr. Stephens prevailed, as in reality he generally did, when +he set his heart upon a thing, despite his statements that Theodore kept +him under complete control. Before another week closed the two young men +were cozily settled in their new quarters, and really feeling as much at +home as though half their lives had been spent there. + +There was one other matter which came to Theodore as a source of great +satisfaction. + +"Mallery," Mr. Stephens had said to him one morning when they were quite +alone in the private office, "have you any special interest in the +Hastings' place?" + +Theodore hesitated a little, and then answered frankly enough: + +"Yes, sir, I certainly have. There are many associations connected with +that house that will always endear it to me." + +"Then you may be interested to know that I have become the purchaser of +it; and if at any time, for any reason, you should wish to make special +disposition of it, it shall always be in a state to await your orders. +Real estate is valuable property, and as good a way as any in which to +dispose of surplus funds." + +Theodore came out from behind the screen to try to offer some word of +thanks, but Mr. Stephens had pushed open the green baize door and +vanished. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +SOME MORE BABIES. + + +Mrs. Jenkins' Tommy stood on the sidewalk in front of the store, in a +nicely fitting new suit, white vest and kid gloves. It was not yet the +middle of the afternoon, but the great store was closed and shuttered +and barred. A gentleman came briskly down the street and halted before +the young man, with a surprised look on his face as he questioned: + +"How now, Tommy, what's to pay? It isn't possible your firm has failed +and foreclosed? What are you all bolted and barred at this time of day +for?" + +Tommy arched his eyebrows. + +"Have you been out of town, sir?" he asked, in a tone which plainly +said, "It isn't possible that you've been _in_ town and not heard the +cause of this closed store?" + +"Just so," answered the good-natured gentleman. "I've been West, and I +want to see Messrs. Stephens and Mallery in a twinkling." + +"Can't do it," said Tommy, promptly, and with the air of a policeman. +"They are otherwise engaged, both of them--all three of them, I may say. +Mr. Hastings is in it, too. There's been a double wedding. Haven't you +heard of it, sir?" + +"Not a word," answered his listener, with commendable gravity. "They've +been as whist as mice. Tell us all about it." + +"Well, sir, it was to-day at twelve o'clock, in the First Church--Dr. +Birge's, you know. He married 'em. Splendid ceremony, too! and they +looked--well, they all looked just grand, I tell you!" + +"Don't doubt it in the least, Tommy, but who the mischief were they?" + +"Why, Mr. Mallery and Miss Hastings, and Mr. Hastings and Miss Winny +McPherson, and they're both of our firm, you know; at least Mr. Hastings +he's our confidential clerk now, and we all say that he'll be partner +one of these days, as sure as guns. We all went to the wedding, every +one of us, cash boys and all; then we all went to Mr. Stephens', and had +just the grandest kind of a dinner with the brides and grooms. And Dr. +Birge and Mr. Ryan they toasted them." + +"Wine or brandy?" interposed the gentleman, slily. + +"Neither!" answered indignant Tommy, with flashing eyes and glowing +cheeks. "They had pure water, ice water. They don't have any wine or +brandy in that house nor in our firm, I can tell you, sir." + +"Good for you, Tommy--stand up for your principles. Well, what came next +after you were all toasted and ice-watered? Is Mrs. Hastings, senior, in +town? Dear me, how long is it since she went away?" + +"It's pretty near three years. No, she isn't in town. She's in feeble +health, and they're going out there to Chicago to see her, the whole +tribe of them. They take the four o'clock Express, and we're all going +to the cars with them, about a dozen carriages. It's time they were on +hand, too. I had to come down to the store after a package that was left +here, and there they are this minute; and so you see, sir, you can't see +either Mr. Stephens or Mr. Mallery in a twinkling. I ride in the eighth +carriage." And at this point Tommy's shining boots bounded away. + + * * * * * + +After the visit to Chicago was concluded, interspersed by several +pleasant side trips, the bridal party separated one bright June morning +at the Cleveland depot, Pliny and his wife preparing to settle down in +their new home, while Mr. and Mrs. Mallery went on to New York. Theodore +had been there perhaps a dozen times since he took that first +surreptitious trip with Mr. Hastings, but in these visits he had always +been a hurried business man, with little leisure or taste for +retrospect. Now, however, it was different, and traversing the streets +with his wife leaning on his arm, he had a fancy for going backward, and +painting pictures from the past for her amusement. The hotel to which he +had escorted Mr. Hastings on that day had advanced with the advancing +tide, and was just now in the very zenith of its prosperity. Thither he +found his way, and led Dora up the broad steps and down the splendid +halls, and finally booked his name, "Theodore S. Mallery and wife," and +tried in vain, while he issued his orders with the air of one long +accustomed to the giving of orders, to conceive of himself and that +ridiculous little wretch who squeezed in among the gentlemen on that +long ago morning to discover, if perchance he could, what his traveling +companion's name might be, as one and the same. + +"Now, I am going to show you some of the wretchedness that abounds in +this elegant city," he said to his wife one morning as he dismissed the +carriage after an hour's exciting drive, and proposed a walk. "It is a +remarkable city in that respect. I am never struck with the two extremes +of humanity as I am when in New York." + +"I was thinking only this morning," Dora answered, "how very few +wretched people I had met in the streets." + +"Wait a bit; see if in ten minutes from this time you are not almost led +to conclude that there is nothing left in this world but wretchedness +and filth and abomination." + +They turned suddenly around the corner of a pleasant street, and as if +they were among the shifting scenes of a panorama, the entire foreground +had changed. Wretchedness! that word no more described the horrors of +their surroundings than could any other that came to Dora's mind. The +scene beggared description. "Swarms of horrors!" she called them in +speaking of the people afterward. Just now she clung silent and half +frightened to her husband's arm. He, too, became silent, and appeared +occupied solely in guarding his wife and shielding her from disagreeable +collisions. Suddenly he uttered an exclamation of delight: + +"Look, Dora! this is the building of which I have read but have never +seen. I have not had time to come so far down before this. Can you +imagine a more delightful oasis in this desert of filth and pollution?" + +There it stood, the great, _clean_, splendid building! towering above +its vile and rickety neighbors. And in bright, clear letters, that +seemed to Theodore to be written in diamonds, gleamed the name; far down +the street it caught the eye, "Home for Little Wanderers." + +Dora looked and smiled and caught her breath, and then the tears dropped +one by one on her husband's sleeve. It almost seemed like the voice of +an angel speaking to the world from out of that moral darkness. + +"Oh, if I had known that day when I was in New York of such a spot as +this in all the world, what a different world it would have looked to +me. The idea that there could be a home _anywhere_ in all the universe, +or beyond it, for such as I had never occurred to me." Theodore spoke in +low, earnest tones, full of deep and solemn feeling. + +"But, Theodore," said Dora, gently, "if you _had_ known of this home, or +any like it, and gone thither instead of to Cleveland on that day, where +would you have been now, and what would have become of me?" + +Theodore smiled down on his fair young bride, and drew the hand that +rested on his arm a little closer as he answered: + +"I am quite content, my darling. I am not complaining of the guiding +Hand that led me home. I have surely reason to be utterly and entirely +satisfied with my lot in life; but there are not many boys such as I was +who find little blue-eyed maidens to bring precious little Bible cards +to them, and so write lessons on their hearts that will tell for all +time--yes, and for all eternity." + +"There are not many Dr. Birges and Mr. Stephenses," said Dora, +emphatically. And Theodore's response was quite as emphatic: + +"Very few indeed! If there were only _more_. But, Dora, isn't it a grand +enterprise? Let us go in. I have always intended to go through the +mission; but, you see, I waited for _you_." + +They went up the broad, pleasant flight of steps. The children, hundreds +of them, were at dinner. Such an array of clean, and, for the most part, +pleasant faces! Such a wonderful dinner as it must have been to them! +Dora's face glowed and her eyes sparkled as she watched them. Then they +all went together to the great, light, pleasant chapel, with its hanging +baskets, and its white flower urns, and its creeping vines, and fragrant +blossoms; its grand piano on the platform as perfect in finish and as +sweet of tone as if it were designed to chime with the voices of more +favored childhood. Dora's bright eye took in the scene in all its +details with great delight and satisfaction, but she did not feel the +solemn undertone of thanksgiving that rang in Theodore's heart. How +could she? What did she know in detail of the contrast between the +present and the past lives of these children? And who knew better than +he the awful scenes from which they had been rescued! How they marched +to the sound of the quickstepping music! How their voices rang out in +songs such as the angels might have loved to join! It was a sort of +jubilee day with them, and there were many visitors and many speeches, +and much entertainment. As he looked and listened, Theodore had +constantly to brush away the starting tears. Presently Mr. Foote came +with brisk step and smiling face toward the spot where Theodore and his +wife were sitting. + +"You are interested in the children, I know, sir," he said, confidently. +"Come forward please, and give us a brief speech. The children will like +to hear one who shows his love for them beaming in his face." + +Theodore answered promptly: + +"No, sir, I will not detain them; they have had speeches enough. +Besides, my heart is quite too full for talking." At the same time he +arose. "I would like to write my speech, though, if you please, sir. +Have you pen and ink convenient?" And he went forward with the leader to +the desk. A few quick dashes of the pen over a blank from his +check-book, and he stood pledged for five hundred dollars for "Howard +Mission." + +"How much I have to thank Dr. Birge for preaching that glorious sermon +on the 'tenths,' and dear grandma for teaching me with her white buttons +the meaning of the same," he said to Dora as they made their way out +from that beautiful haven into the reeking street. "How every single +impulse for good counts back to some influence touched long ago by an +unconscious hand! I wonder if the Christian world has an idea of what it +is doing?" + + * * * * * + +They tarried but a few hours in Albany, long enough to visit that quiet +grave with its simple tribute, "Dear Mother." And there again came to +Theodore's heart sad memories of his father. Oh, if his body _only_ lay +there in quiet rest underneath those grasses; if he could have the +privilege of setting up _his_ headstone, and marking it with a word of +respectful memory; if he could have but the _faint hope_ of a meeting +place for them all in that city beyond, what more could he ask in life? +And yet who could tell? Perhaps it was even so; perhaps there had come +even to his father an eleventh hour? The "arm of the Lord was not +shortened" that it could not save where and when and how he would. And +there had been prayers, constant and fervent, sent up for him; and +perhaps the eleventh hour was yet to come; he might be still in this +world of hope. Theodore's heart swelled at the thought. + +"My darling," he said, turning toward the young face looking up to his, +and full of tender sympathy, "he may be living yet--my poor father, you +know. We will never cease to pray that if he is still on earth God will +have mercy. We will pray together, will we not?" + +And then both remembered that other father, about whose grave June roses +were blossoming to-day, for whom they could pray nevermore; and so +though she laid her hand in his in token of sympathy, she made no answer +on account of fast falling tears. + + * * * * * + +"For our _own_ room, Dora, in lieu of many pictures let us have some of +these exquisite illuminated texts. I like them _so_ much; and we can +never tell how much good they may do a servant or a chance passer +through. There are some in particular that I want to select." This +Theodore said to his wife as they stood together in a picture store. + +"There! I want that one above all others," and he held it up for her +admiration. It _was_ a beauty; the letters were exquisitely formed, and +the words were: "The eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the +evil and the good." Then they chose, "Peace be to this house"--this for +the hall. And another favorite, "Hitherto hath the Lord helped us." + +"This is yours, Dora," Theodore said, presently, laying before her a +delicately shaded sentence on tinted board, "The Lord bless thee and +keep thee." And she smilingly answered: "Then this for you," "He shall +keep thee in all thy ways." + +And so their homes were filled with lessons from the great guide-book, +speaking silently on every hand. + + * * * * * + +It might have been something like three years after this date that the +Buffalo Express was behind time one day. Pliny Hastings was at the depot +in a state of impatient waiting. I do not know that it occurred to him +that he had been in precisely that spot and condition one evening years +ago. The whistle of the train rang out at last, and Pliny stepped back +near the restive horses, ready for emergencies. He swung open the +carriage door as Theodore Mallery advanced from the train. + +"You're a pretty man to be late _to-day_ of all days in the world," was +Pliny's greeting, in a sort of good-humoredly impatient tone. + +"Scold the engineer, not me," responded Theodore, in the same manner. "I +fretted inwardly all the way from C----. All well at home?" + +And then the two gentlemen entered the carriage, Theodore waiting to +give the order, "Home, Jacob." And he had not a thought of the +ill-favored urchin who had once tumbled up on the driver's seat of a +carriage similar to this one, and peered down curiously at the boy Pliny +inside. He even did not remember that he made a resolution to become the +driver some day of a pair of horses like those behind which he was +luxuriously riding, so utterly do we grow away from our intentions and +ambitions. + +The carriage swept around the fine old curve and stopped at the side +door of Hastings' Hall that was. The place had a familiar look, but the +present inmates disliked the old aristocratic sounding name, and in view +of the wide green lawn and the noble shade trees had named it simply +"Elm Lawn." Dinner was waiting for the master of the house, and it was a +birthday dinner, too, in honor of the first anniversary of that great +day to another heir of the grand old house. He was sleeping now, tucked +into a great easy chair, while his lace-curtained crib was given up to +a younger, tinier baby, who sucked his thumb and did _not_ sleep. Both +babies frowned and choked and sneezed over their respective father's +kisses or whiskers, or both. Both appeared in all their glory at the +dinner table; and all the bright happy company were in blissful +ignorance of a scene so nearly similar that had occurred when the +supposed young heir of Hastings' Hall reached the close of his first +year. Yet this _was_ different, for Mr. Stephens asked a blessing on +this bright glad scene, and Dr. Birge returned thanks for the joy and +beauty of the day, and the health and hopes of these two babies were +remembered in glasses of sparkling water. + +And the supposed heir of other days was the fond proud father of the +precious crowing bundle now pulling at his beard. What cared he for +Hastings' Hall? It was a fine old place enough, and he had enjoyed +coming there every day of his life; but his own bright home was just +around the corner, and contained more life and joy and beauty than did +all Cleveland. So he thought. + +"What have you named your babies?" questioned a chance caller. + +"This is Master Pliny Hastings Mallery at your service," responded +Theodore, tossing his boy aloft until he tried to reach the ceiling and +yelled with glee. While Winny, after glancing at her husband's face and +noting his moved look, answered simply: "We call ours Baby Ben." + +After Dr. and Mrs. Birge, and he who called himself Grandfather +Stephens, had departed, they went, these two fathers, to the room above, +where the babies cuddled and slept, and the loving mothers watched and +talked. They all went over and stood by the crib and the easy chair. + +"Let us have a special celebration of this day," said Theodore. "Let us +consecrate these two boys anew to the beloved Giver of all our +blessedness." + +Then they all knelt down, each husband encircling with one arm the form +of his honored wife, and resting the other hand on the forehead of his +darling, and Theodore first, then Pliny, laid their hearts' dearest +treasures at the feet of their common Lord. + +"We are very happy," Dora said, when they had risen, still clinging to +her husband's hand. + +"Very happy," answered Theodore, clasping tenderly the dear true hand. +"And it is a happiness that will continue whatever comes, so we remain +always at the feet of the Master and keep our treasures there." + +Pliny was looking at the babies, with a face full of humble tenderness. + +"We have quite given them up to _Him_," he said, in an earnest, solemn +tone. "Now let us pray that he will consecrate them _peculiarly_ to the +sacred cause of temperance." + +And Theodore and the two mothers said: "Amen." + + + + +THE PANSY BOOKS + +BY MRS. G. R. ALDEN ("PANSY") + + * * * * * + +12mo Cloth $1.50 per volume + + * * * * * + + As in a Mirror + Aunt Hannah, Martha, and John + The Browns at Mt. Hermon + By Way of the Wilderness + Chautauqua Girls at Home + Chrissy's Endeavor + Christie's Christmas + David Ransom's Watch + Doris Farrand's Vocation + Eighty-seven + An Endless Chain + Ester Ried + Ester Ried Yet Speaking + Ester Ried's Namesake + Four Girls at Chautauqua + Four Mothers at Chautauqua + The Hall in the Grove + Her Associate Members + Household Puzzles + Judge Burnham's Daughters + Julia Ried + King's Daughter + Links in Rebecca's Life + Little Fishers and their Nets + The Long Way Home + Lost on the Trail + Mag and Margaret + Making Fate + Man of the House + Mara + Mrs. Solomon Smith Looking On + A New Graft on the Family Tree + One Commonplace Day + Overruled + Pauline + The Pocket Measure + The Prince of Peace + The Randolphs + Ruth Erskine's Crosses + Ruth Erskine's Son + A Seven-fold Trouble + Spun from Fact + Stephen Mitchell's Journey + Those Boys + Three People + Tip Lewis and His Lamp + Twenty Minutes Late + Unto the End + Wanted + What They Couldn't + Wise and Otherwise + Yesterday Framed in To-day + +For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the +publishers + +LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., Boston + + + + +THE FAMOUS PEPPER BOOKS + +By MARGARET SIDNEY + + + I N O R D E R O F P U B L I C A T I O N + + Cloth 12mo Illustrated $1.50 each + +Five Little Peppers and How they Grew. + +This was an instantaneous success; it has become a genuine child +classic. + + +Five Little Peppers Midway. + +"A perfect Cheeryble of a book."--_Boston Herald._ + + +Five Little Peppers Grown Up. + +This shows the Five Little Peppers as "grown up," with all the struggles +and successes of young manhood and womanhood. + + +Phronsie Pepper. + +It is the story of Phronsie, the youngest and dearest of all the +Peppers. + + +The Stories Polly Pepper Told. + +Wherever there exists a child or a "grown-up," there will be a welcome +for these charming and delightful "Stories Polly Pepper told." + + +The Adventures of Joel Pepper. + +As bright and just as certain to be a child's favorite as the others in +the famous series. Harum-scarum "Joey" is lovable. + + +Five Little Peppers Abroad. + +The "Peppers Abroad" adds another most delightful book to this famous +series. + + +Five Little Peppers at School. + +Of all the fascinating adventures and experiences of the "Peppers", none +will surpass those contained in this volume. + + +Five Little Peppers and Their Friends. + +The friends of the Peppers are legion and the number will be further +increased by this book. + + +Ben Pepper. + +This story centres about Ben, "the quiet, steady-as-a-rock boy," while +the rest of the Peppers help to make it as bright and pleasing as its +predecessors. + + +Five Little Peppers in the Little Brown House. + +Here they all are, Ben, Polly, Joel, Phronsie, and David, in the loved +"Little Brown House," with such happenings crowding one upon the other +as all children delightedly follow, and their elders find no less +interesting. + + * * * * * + +LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON + + + + +Pansy Books + +_at_ + +Popular Prices + + ¶ These ten favorite books have been furnished + with new frontispieces by good artists, and are + issued at a list price of $.50 each: + + Ester Ried + Four Girls at Chautauqua + Tip Lewis and His Lamp + Three People + Chautauqua Girls at Home + Julia Ried + Ruth Erskine's Crosses + The King's Daughter + Judge Burnham's Daughters + Wise and Otherwise + + +Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. + +Boston + + * * * * * + +Transcriber's Notes: + +Obvious punctuation errors repaired. + +This text uses the archaic spelling of "height" as "hight." This was +retained. + +Page 29, "would'nt" changed to "wouldn't" (me I wouldn't) + +Page 61, "agoing" changed to "a going" to conform to rest of text. +(ain't a going to) + +Page 94, "seeemed" changed to "seemed". (evil that seemed) + +Page 135, "wan't" changed to "want" (want to get it) + +Page 142, "sraight" changed to "straight" (straight down to) + +Page 146, "tha" changed to "that" (did that little) + +Page 188, "refreshement" changed to "refreshment" (get any refreshment) + +Page 205, "Wan't" changed to "Want" (Want you to say) + +Page 215, "millioniare" changed to "millionaire" (the millionaire moved) + +Page 224, "posibly" changed to "possibly" (Could he possibly) + +Page 228, "unceremoneously" changed to "unceremoniously" (He +unceremoniously appropriated) + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Three People, by Pansy + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THREE PEOPLE *** + +***** This file should be named 20808.txt or 20808.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/8/0/20808/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Emmy and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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