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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tom, The Bootblack, by Horatio Alger
+
+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: Tom, The Bootblack
+       or, The Road to Success
+
+Author: Horatio Alger
+
+Release Date: August 18, 2008 [EBook #26355]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM, THE BOOTBLACK ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was
+produced from scanned images of public domain material
+from the Google Print project.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "Your forged document will help you little," said Mr.
+Grey, triumphantly. "I have torn it into a hundred pieces."--Page 138.]
+
+
+
+
+TOM, THE BOOTBLACK;
+
+OR,
+
+THE ROAD TO SUCCESS
+
+
+
+BY HORATIO ALGER, JR.
+
+_Author of "Joe's Luck," "Frank Fowler, the Cash Boy," "Tom Temple's
+Career," "The Errand Boy," "Tom Turner's Legacy," etc., etc._
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATED
+
+A. L. BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS
+52-58 DUANE STREET, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+TOM, THE BOOTBLACK.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+INTRODUCING TOM, THE BOOTBLACK.
+
+
+"How do you feel this morning, Jacob?" asked a boy of fifteen, bending
+over an old man crouched in the corner of an upper room, in a poor
+tenement-house, distant less than a quarter of a mile from the New York
+City Hall.
+
+"Weak, Tom," whined the old man, in reply. "I--I ain't got much
+strength."
+
+"Would you like some breakfast?"
+
+"I--I don't know. Breakfast costs money."
+
+"Never you mind about that, Jacob. I can earn money enough for both of
+us. Come, now, you'd like some coffee and eggs, wouldn't you?"
+
+There was a look of eager appetite in the old man's eyes as he heard
+the boy speak.
+
+"Yes," he answered, "I should like them; but we can't afford it."
+
+"Don't you be afraid of that. I'll go and ask Mrs. Flanagan to get some
+ready at once. I've earned thirty cents this morning already, Jacob,
+and that'll pay for breakfast for the two of us. I think I could eat
+some breakfast myself."
+
+Jacob uttered a feeble remonstrance, but the boy did not stop to hear
+it. He went down the rough staircase, and knocked at the door of the
+room below. It was opened by a stout, wholesome-looking Irish woman,
+who saluted the boy heartily.
+
+"Well, Tom, and how's your grandfather this mornin'?"
+
+"He's weak, Mrs. Flanagan; but he'll be the better for some breakfast,
+and so shall I. I'll go and buy half a dozen eggs, if you'll be kind
+enough to cook them, and make some coffee for us. I'll pay you for your
+trouble."
+
+"Of course I will, Tom. And for the eggs you needn't go out, for I've
+got the same in the closet; but I'm short of bread, and, if you'll buy
+a loaf, I'll have the coffee and eggs ready in no time."
+
+While Tom is on his way to the baker's shop, a few words of explanation
+and description may be in place. First, for our hero. I have already
+said he was fifteen. Let me add that he was stout and strongly built,
+with an open, prepossessing face, and the air of one who is ready to
+fight his own battles without calling for assistance. His position in
+life is humble, for he is a street bootblack. He has served, by turns,
+at other vocations; but he has found none of them pay so well as this.
+He has energy and enterprise, and few of his comrades secure so many
+customers as he. For years he has lived with the old man introduced as
+Jacob, and is popularly regarded as his grandson; but Jacob has never
+made claim to that relationship, nor has he ever volunteered any
+information to the boy as to what originally brought them together.
+Occasionally Tom has tried to obtain some information, but on such
+occasions Jacob has been very reticent, and has appeared, for some
+reason, unwilling to speak. So, by degrees, Tom has given up asking
+questions, and has been much more concerned about the means of living
+than about his pedigree.
+
+Jacob has done little or nothing for their common support, though at
+times, greatly to the annoyance of Tom, he has gone out on the street
+and asked alms. Tom, being high-spirited and independent, has resented
+this, and has always interfered, in a very decided manner, to prevent
+Jacob's figuring as a beggar. Though only a bootblack, he has an honest
+independence of feeling, in which any one is justified who works,
+however humbly, for his support.
+
+Old Jacob is, moreover, a miser, so far as he can be. Whatever money he
+may have acquired by begging, he has kept. At all events, he has
+offered nothing of it for the common expenses. But Tom has not troubled
+himself about this. He suspects that Jacob may have a few dollars
+secreted somewhere, but is perfectly willing he should keep them for
+his own satisfaction. His earnings average over a dollar a day, and
+with this sum he is able to pay the small rent of their humble
+apartment, and buy their food.
+
+In ten minutes Tom reappeared with a loaf under his arm. The door of
+Mrs. Flanagan's room was partly open, and he entered without ceremony.
+The good woman was bustling about preparing the eggs. The coffee-pot
+was already on the stove.
+
+"It'll be ready in a minute, Tom," she said. "A cup of hot coffee'll do
+the poor craythur, yer grandfather, a power of good. So he's fable, is
+he?"
+
+"Yes, Mrs. Flanagan."
+
+"He won't last long, to my thinkin'."
+
+"Do you think he's going to die?" asked Tom, thoughtfully.
+
+"Yes, poor craythur. It's all he can do to drag himself up and down
+stairs."
+
+"I shall be sorry to have him die," said Tom, "though I don't believe
+he's any relation to me."
+
+"Isn't he your grandfather, then?" asked Mrs. Flanagan, in surprise.
+
+"No; he never said he was."
+
+"Then what makes the two of you live together? Maybe he's your uncle,
+though he looks too old for that."
+
+"I don't think he's any relation. All I know is, I've lived with him
+ever since I was so high."
+
+And Tom indicated with his hand the height of a boy of six.
+
+"Then he's never told you anything?"
+
+"No. I've asked him sometimes, but he didn't seem to want to speak."
+
+When Tom re-entered the room he found the old man crouching in the
+corner, as at first.
+
+"Come, Jacob," he said, cheerfully, "get up; I've got some breakfast
+for you."
+
+The old man's features lighted up as he inhaled the grateful odor of
+the coffee, and he rose with some effort to his feet, and seated
+himself at the little table on which our hero placed it.
+
+"Now, Jacob," said Tom, cheerfully, "I'll pour you out a cup of coffee.
+Mrs. Flanagan made it, and it's bully. It'll put new life into you.
+Then what do you say to a plate of eggs and some roll? I haven't got
+any butter, but you can dip it in your coffee. Now, isn't this a nice
+breakfast?"
+
+"Yes, Tom," said the old man, surveying the coffee and eggs with eyes
+of eager desire. "It's nice; but we can't afford to live so all the
+time."
+
+"Never you mind about that; we can afford it this morning; so don't
+spoil your appetite with thinkin' how much it costs."
+
+"Now," said Tom, after he had helped the old man, "I don't mind takin'
+something myself. I ain't troubled with a delicate appetite, 'specially
+when I've been up and at work for two hours."
+
+"Did you make much, Tom?"
+
+"Well, I ain't made my fortune yet. I've earned thirty cents, but I'll
+make it up to a dollar before noon."
+
+"You're a good boy, Tom," said the old man, approvingly. "Don't be
+afraid of work; I'd work, too, if I wasn't so old. It costs a sight to
+live, and I don't earn a cent."
+
+"There ain't no need of it, Jacob; I can earn enough for the two of us.
+I'm young and strong. You are old and weak. When I'm an old man, like
+you, I won't want to work no more."
+
+"I ain't so very old," said Jacob, jealously. "I'm only turned
+sixty-five. There's a good many years of life in me yet."
+
+"Of course there is, Jacob," said Tom, though as he looked at his
+companion's thin, wasted face and shaking hand, he felt very doubtful
+on this point.
+
+"My father lived to be seventy-five," said Jacob.
+
+"So will you," said Tom, though, to the boy of fifteen, sixty-five
+appeared a very advanced age, and but little younger than eighty.
+
+"I'll be stronger soon," said Jacob. "The weather ain't suited me."
+
+"That's it, Jacob. Now let me give you another cup of coffee. It goes
+to the right spot, don't it? Don't you be afraid; there's plenty of
+it."
+
+So he filled Jacob's cup once more, and the old man drank the contents
+with evident relish.
+
+"Now don't you feel better?" asked Tom. "Why, you look ten years
+younger'n you did before you sat down. There's nothing like a bully
+breakfast to make a feller feel tip-top."
+
+"Yes, I do feel better," said Jacob. "I--I think you're right, Tom. If
+I was rich, I'd always have a good breakfast."
+
+"So you shall now, Jacob. It don't cost much. Now lie down again, and
+I'll take these dishes down to Mrs. Flanagan."
+
+Tom speedily reappeared, and said, cheerfully:
+
+"If there's nothing more you want, Jacob, I'll go out and look out for
+work. Mrs. Flanagan will bring you up some toast at noon, and I'll be
+back at six o'clock."
+
+"All right, Tom. Go to work, there's a good boy. It costs a sight of
+money to live."
+
+Tom seized his blacking-box and hurried down stairs. He had delayed
+longer than he intended, and was resolved to make up for lost time.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+STRUCK DOWN.
+
+
+No sooner had Tom left the room than the old man rose slowly from his
+couch, and, walking feebly to the door, bolted it; then, going to a
+corner of the room, he lifted a plank from the flooring, and, thrusting
+his hand beneath, drew up a tin box. He opened this with a small key
+which he wore about his neck, suspended by a cord, and revealed a heap
+of silver and copper coins, filling the box two-thirds full. Upon this
+his eyes were fixed with eager and gloating satisfaction.
+
+"It's all mine!" he muttered, joyfully. "Tom doesn't know about it. He
+mustn't know--he might want me to spend it. I will count it."
+
+He took it out by handfuls, and began to count it for at least the
+hundredth time, putting together coins of similar value in little
+piles, till there was a circle of silver and copper about him.
+
+It was a work of time for the old man, and probably half an hour was
+consumed before he had finished his task.
+
+"Ninety-nine dollars!" he exclaimed, in alarm, at the end of the
+calculation. "Somebody has robbed me; I ought to have twenty-five
+cents more. Could Tom have got at the box? Maybe I have made a mistake.
+I will count again."
+
+With nervous fingers he recommenced the count, fearing that he had met
+with a loss. He was half through his task, when a knock was heard at
+the door. The old man started in agitation, and glanced apprehensively
+at the door.
+
+"Who's there?" he asked, in quivering accents.
+
+"It's I," answered a hearty voice, which Jacob readily recognized as
+that of Mrs. Flanagan.
+
+"You can't come in," said the old man, peevishly. "What do you want?"
+
+"I only came to ask how ye are, and if I can do anything for ye."
+
+"No, you can't. I'm well--no, I'm sick, and I'd rather be left alone."
+
+"All right," said the good woman, in no wise offended, for she pitied
+the old man. "If you want anything, jist _stomp_ on the floor, and I'll
+hear ye, and come up."
+
+"Yes," said Jacob, hastily. "Now go down--that's a good woman. I want
+to go to sleep."
+
+"Poor craythur!" said Mrs. Flanagan, to herself. "It's little he enjoys
+the world, which is a blessin', as he will soon have to lave it."
+
+"I hope she isn't looking through the keyhole," thought Jacob, in
+alarm. "She might see my money."
+
+But the footsteps of the good woman descending the stairs came to his
+ears, and reassured him.
+
+"It's well I locked the door," he said to himself. "I wouldn't want it
+known that I had all this money, or it wouldn't be safe. It's taken me
+a long time to get it, and it isn't quite a hundred dollars. If I had
+seventy-five cents more"--he had by this time found the missing
+quarter--"it would make just a hundred. If Tom wouldn't mind, I could
+get it easily by begging. I might have it by to-morrow. I wonder if he
+would care much," muttered the old man, as he put back the coins
+carefully into the tin box. "I--I think I'll go out a little while.
+He'll never know it."
+
+By this time he had locked the box and replaced it beneath the
+flooring, restoring the plank to its original place.
+
+"I'll lie down a little while till I feel strong," he muttered, "then
+I'll go out. If I go up on Broadway, Tom won't see me. He ought not to
+mind my begging. I am too weak to work, and it's the only way I can get
+money."
+
+He lay down on the bed, and, after his exertion, small as it was, the
+rest was grateful to him. But the thought haunted him continually that
+he needed but seventy-five cents to make up his hoard to a hundred
+dollars, and the eager desire prompted him to forsake his rest and go
+out into the streets.
+
+After awhile he rose from his bed.
+
+"I am rested enough now," he said. "I think I can go out for a little
+while. I will get back before Tom comes home."
+
+He took an old battered hat from a nail on which it hung, and with
+feeble step left the room, grasping the banister to steady his steps as
+he descended the stairs.
+
+Mrs. Flanagan's door was open, and, though the old man made but little
+noise, she heard it.
+
+She lifted both hands in amazement when she saw him.
+
+"Shure ye are too wake to go out," said she. "Come, now, go up and lie
+on the bed till ye are better. Tom'll be mad if he knows ye have gone
+out."
+
+"Ye needn't tell him," said Jacob, hastily. "I want to breathe the
+fresh air; it'll do me good."
+
+"Shure you're not fit to go alone; I'll send my Mike wid you. He's only
+six, but he's a smart lad."
+
+"I'd rather go alone," said Jacob, who was afraid the little boy would
+report his begging. "I--I am stronger than you think. I won't be gone
+long."
+
+Mrs. Flanagan saw that he was obstinate, and she did not press the
+point. But after he had got down stairs she called Mike, and said:
+
+"Mike, dear, go after the old man, and see where he goes; but don't you
+let him see you. I'll give you a penny to buy candy when you get back."
+
+Mike was easily persuaded, for he had the weakness for candy common to
+boys of his age, of whatever grade, and he proceeded to follow his
+mother's directions.
+
+When Jacob got to the foot of the lowest staircase he felt more
+fatigued than he expected, but his resolution remained firm. He must
+have the seventy-five cents before night. To-morrow he could rest. Let
+him but increase his hoard to a hundred dollars, and he would be
+content.
+
+It was not without a painful effort that he dragged himself as far as
+Broadway, though the distance was scarcely quarter of a mile. Little
+Mike followed him, partly because his mother directed him to do it,
+partly because, young as he was, he was curious to learn where Jacob
+was going, and what he was going to do. His curiosity was soon
+gratified. He saw the old man remove his battered hat, and hold it out
+in mute appeal to the passers-by.
+
+It was not long before Jacob received ten cents.
+
+"What's the matter with you?" asked another passer-by, five minutes
+later.
+
+"I'm sick and poor," whined Jacob.
+
+"Well, there's something for you," and the old man, to his joy, found
+his hoard increased twenty-five cents. This he put into his pocket,
+thinking that he would be more likely to inspire compassion, and obtain
+fresh contributions, if only the ten cents were visible.
+
+He did not get another contribution as large. Still, more than one
+passer-by, attracted by his wretched look, dropped something into his
+hat, till the sum he desired was made up. He had secured the
+seventy-five cents necessary to make up the hundred dollars; but his
+craving was not satisfied. He thought he would stay half an hour
+longer, and secure a little more. He was tired, but it would not take
+long, and he could rest long enough afterward. An unlucky impulse led
+him to cross the street to the opposite side, which he fancied would be
+more favorable to his purpose. I say unlucky, for he was struck down,
+when half way across, by some stage horses, and trampled under foot.
+
+There was a rush to his rescue, and he was lifted up and carried into a
+neighboring shop.
+
+"Does anybody know who he is, or where he lives?" asked a policeman.
+
+"I know him," said little Mike, who had witnessed the accident, and
+followed the crowd in. "His name is old Jacob, and he lives in Carter's
+alley."
+
+"Is there anybody to take care of him--any wife or daughter?" asked the
+physician.
+
+Mike explained that he had only a grandson, and the physician thereupon
+directed that he be carried to Bellevue Hospital, while Mike ran home
+to bear the important news to his mother.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+A STREET FIGHT.
+
+
+Tom, of course, knew nothing of Jacob's accident. He fancied him safe
+at home, and was only concerned to make enough money to pay the
+necessary expenses of both. He felt little anxiety on this score, as he
+was of an enterprising disposition, and usually got his fair share of
+business. He stationed himself near the Astor House, and kept an eye on
+the boots of all who passed, promptly offering his services where they
+appeared needed. Of course, there were long intervals between his
+customers, but in the course of two hours he had made fifty cents,
+which he regarded as doing fairly.
+
+Finally a gentleman, rather tall and portly, descended the steps of the
+Astor House, and bent his steps in Tom's direction.
+
+"Shine yer boots?" asked Tom.
+
+The gentleman looked down upon the face of the boy, and a sudden
+expression swept over his own, as if he were surprised or startled. His
+boots were tolerably clean; but, after a moment's hesitation, he said:
+
+"Yes."
+
+Tom was instantly on his knees, first spreading a piece of carpet,
+about a foot square, to kneel upon, and set to work with energy.
+
+"How long have you been in this line of business, boy?" asked his
+customer.
+
+"Four or five years," answered Tom.
+
+"Do you like it?"
+
+"I have to like it," said Tom. "I've got to do somethin' for a livin'.
+Bread and meat don't grow on trees."
+
+"What's your name?" asked the stranger, abruptly.
+
+"Tom."
+
+"Haven't you got but one name?"
+
+"Tom Grey's my whole name; but everybody calls me Tom."
+
+"Grey? Did you say your name was Grey?" asked the stranger, in a tone
+of some excitement.
+
+"Yes," said Tom, surprised at the gentleman's tone.
+
+In his surprise he looked up into his customer's face, and for the
+first time took notice of it. This was what he saw: a square face, with
+a heavy lower jaw, grizzled whiskers, and cold, gray eyes. But there
+was something besides that served to distinguish it from other faces--a
+scar, of an inch in length, on his right cheek, which, though years
+old, always looked red under excitement.
+
+"Grey," repeated the stranger. "Is your father living?"
+
+"I don't know," said Tom. "If he is, he's too busy to call round and
+see me."
+
+"You mean that you don't know anything about your father?"
+
+"That's about so," said Tom. "I'm ready to adopt a rich gentleman as a
+father, if it's agreeable."
+
+And he looked up with a smile in the face of his customer.
+
+But the latter did not respond to the joke, but looked more and more
+serious.
+
+"That smile," he said to himself. "He is wonderfully like. Is it
+possible that this boy can be----"
+
+But here he stopped, and left the sentence unfinished.
+
+"Are you sure your name is Tom?" asked the stranger.
+
+"Why shouldn't it be?" demanded the boy, in natural surprise.
+
+"To be sure," returned the gentleman. "Only I have a theory that there
+is a connection between faces and names, and you don't look like my
+idea of Tom."
+
+This was rather philosophical to be addressed to a New York bootblack;
+but Tom was smart enough to comprehend it.
+
+"If I don't look like Tom, what do I look like?" he asked.
+
+"John, or Henry, or--or Gilbert," said the gentleman, bringing out the
+last name after a slight pause.
+
+"I like Tom best," said the boy; "it's short and easy."
+
+"Do you live alone, or have you any friends?" asked the stranger.
+
+"I live with an old man, but he ain't any relation to me."
+
+"What's his name?"
+
+"Jacob."
+
+"What other name?" asked the customer, quickly.
+
+Tom had by this time completed his task, and was standing erect, facing
+the speaker.
+
+"He's got an inquirin' mind," thought Tom; but, though rather surprised
+at the questions, he had no objection to answer them.
+
+"I don't know," he said.
+
+"Don't know?"
+
+"He never told me. Maybe it's Grey, like mine. Some call him my
+grandfather, but he isn't."
+
+"It is he," thought the stranger; "but things are well as they are. He
+knows nothing, and need know nothing. I am safe enough, since between
+us there is a great gulf of ignorance, and more than a thousand miles
+of space."
+
+"Well, my boy," he said, aloud, "I suppose you want to be paid?"
+
+"That's what's the matter," answered Tom.
+
+The stranger put in his hand a half dollar, and Tom, plunging his hand
+in his pocket, prepared to give change.
+
+"Never mind," said his late customer, with a wave of his hand.
+
+"Thanks," said Tom, and he mentally wished he might be as well paid
+every day for answering questions.
+
+Tom shouldered his box, and walked a few steps down Broadway. It was
+some time before another customer appeared, and meanwhile another
+bootblack came up. The name of the newcomer was Pat Walsh. He enjoyed a
+bad reputation among his comrades--as one who would take a mean
+advantage, if he dared, and was at all times ready to bully a smaller
+boy. He had long cherished an ill feeling toward Tom, because the
+latter had interfered, on one occasion, to protect a smaller boy whom
+Pat tried to cheat out of a job. As Tom's prowess was well known, Pat
+had contented himself hitherto with uttering threats which he hesitated
+to carry into execution. It was shrewdly suspected by his companions
+that he was afraid to contend with Tom, and they had taunted him with
+it. Finding his authority diminishing, Pat decided to force a quarrel
+upon Tom at the first opportunity. He had no great appetite for the
+fight, but felt it to be a disagreeable necessity.
+
+Just as he came up a gentleman approached with a valise in his hand.
+His boots were decidedly dirty, and he was hailed as a prize by the
+bootblacks.
+
+"Shine yer boots?" exclaimed Tom and Pat, simultaneously.
+
+"I don't know but they need brushing," said the traveler.
+
+Instantly both bootblacks were on their knees before him, ready to
+proceed to business.
+
+"I don't need both of you," he said, smiling.
+
+"Take me," said Pat; "I'll give you a bully shine."
+
+"I'll give you the bulliest," said Tom, good humoredly. "I spoke
+first."
+
+"Lave wid yer, or I'll mash yer!" said Pat.
+
+"Better not try it," said Tom, not in the least intimidated. "The
+gentleman will choose between us."
+
+"I'll choose you," said the traveler, decidedly more prepossessed by
+Tom's appearance than by that of his competitor.
+
+There was no appeal from this decision, and Pat rose to his feet, his
+face wearing a very ugly scowl. He remained standing near, while Tom
+was engaged with his job, watching him with an aspect which betokened
+mischief.
+
+"Thank you, sir," said Tom, as he received pay for his services.
+
+The customer had no sooner left the spot than Pat strode up to Tom.
+
+"I want that money," he said, menacingly.
+
+"Do you?" returned Tom, coolly, as he thrust it into his vest pocket,
+for, unlike the majority of his companions, he indulged in the luxury
+of a vest.
+
+"Yes, I do. It was my job."
+
+"I don't see it."
+
+"I spoke first."
+
+"The gentleman chose me."
+
+"You stuck yourself in where you wasn't wanted. Give me the money."
+
+"Come and take it," said Tom, unconsciously making the same answer that
+was once returned by a heroic general to an insolent demand for
+surrender.
+
+"I'll do it, then," said Pat, who had been nursing his rage till he was
+grown reckless of consequences.
+
+He threw down his box and sprang at Tom. The latter also quickly rid
+himself of the incumbrance, and the two were soon wrestling at close
+quarters. Pat, by his impetuous onset, came near upsetting his
+adversary; but, by an effort, Tom saved himself.
+
+Then commenced a determined contest. Both boys were unusually strong
+for their ages, and were, in fact, very evenly matched. But at length
+Tom, by an adroit movement of the foot, tripped his opponent, and came
+down on top of him. He did not hold him down, for he was fond of fair
+play, but rose immediately.
+
+"You didn't do it; I slipped," said Pat, in anger and mortification,
+and he instantly threw himself upon Tom again. But our hero kept cool,
+while Pat was excited, and this placed him at an advantage. So the
+second contest terminated like the first.
+
+Cheers from a crowd of boys greeted this second victory--cheers to
+which Pat listened with mortification and rage. He was half tempted to
+renew the battle, but a cry from the boys, "A cop! a cop!" warned him
+of the approach of his natural enemy, the policeman, and he walked
+sullenly away, breathing threats of future vengeance, to which Tom paid
+very little attention.
+
+Five minutes later little Mike Flanagan came up, and pulled Tom by the
+arm.
+
+"What's the matter, Mike?" asked Tom, seeing that the little boy looked
+excited.
+
+"Your grandfather's been run over wid a horse," said the little boy,
+not very intelligibly.
+
+"Run over!" exclaimed Tom. "How can that be, when he was at home on the
+bed?"
+
+"He went out soon after you, and was beggin' on Broadway."
+
+"Where is he now?" asked Tom, quickly.
+
+"He was took to the hospital," said Mike.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+AT THE HOSPITAL.
+
+
+On a neat bed, at the Bellevue Hospital, old Jacob was stretched out.
+He had been in considerable pain, but opiates had been administered,
+and he was in an uneasy slumber.
+
+Tom presented himself at the office below as soon as he could after
+hearing of the accident.
+
+"Is he much hurt? Is he in danger?" he asked, anxiously, for Jacob was
+nearer to him than any one else.
+
+"He is now sleeping, and must not be disturbed. Come tomorrow, and we
+can tell you more," was the reply.
+
+"You can tell me if he was much hurt."
+
+"One leg is broken, but we cannot yet tell whether he has received any
+internal injury. All depends upon that."
+
+Tom presented himself the next day. This time the physician looked
+grave.
+
+"We have reason to think that he is injured internally. His life is
+uncertain."
+
+"Poor Jacob!" murmured Tom, moved by pity for the old man.
+
+"Is he your grandfather?" asked the physician.
+
+"No; but I have lived with him for some years. Can I see him?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Tom followed the doctor into a long hall lined with beds. About midway,
+on the left hand side, he recognized the form of his old companion.
+
+"I am sorry to see you here, Jacob," said Tom, gently.
+
+"I'm almost dead," said the old man, peevishly. "The man drove over me
+on purpose."
+
+"I hope not."
+
+"I tell you he did!" said Jacob, irritably.
+
+"Well, Jacob, it can't be helped. You must try to get well."
+
+"I'm an old man. I'm afraid I shall never get well again," and he
+looked eagerly into Tom's face.
+
+Having heard what he did from the doctor, Tom was placed in an awkward
+position. He was too honest to give false hopes, and he remained
+silent.
+
+"What did the doctor tell you?" demanded Jacob, suspiciously.
+
+"He said he could not tell whether you would get well or not."
+
+"He thought I was going to die?" said the old man, nervously.
+
+"He didn't say that."
+
+"I don't want to die," moaned the old man, terrified. "I'm only
+sixty-five. My father lived to be seventy-five."
+
+"You may live, Jacob."
+
+"I--I'm not ready to die. Ask the doctor to do all he can."
+
+"He will be sure to do that."
+
+There was a pause. The old man's features were convulsed. He had not
+till now thought that he was in danger of dying. He was trying to
+realize the terrible fact. Tom stood by in silence, for he had some
+idea of Jacob's feelings, and he pitied him.
+
+At length the old man turned his face again toward him, and said:
+
+"Tom?"
+
+"What is it, Jacob?"
+
+"I want you to ask the doctor every day if he thinks I am going to die;
+and, when he says there is no hope, tell me."
+
+"Yes, Jacob."
+
+"Do you promise?"
+
+"Yes, I promise."
+
+"There is something I must tell you before I die--something important.
+Do you hear?"
+
+"Yes, I hear."
+
+"It's something you ought to know. Now you can go. I want to sleep."
+
+"Perhaps it is something about my father," thought Tom, with vague
+curiosity.
+
+It was a matter that he had never troubled himself much about, but now
+it did occur to him that he should like to know a little more about
+himself. He determined to keep faithfully the promise he had made the
+old man.
+
+He was destined to have one more adventure before the day closed.
+
+On leaving the hospital Tom directed his course to Broadway. It was the
+busiest part of the day, and the street was crowded with stages, drays,
+and other vehicles, making it difficult to cross.
+
+A hump-backed seamstress stood on the sidewalk, looking helplessly
+across, but not daring to venture on the perilous passage. There was no
+policeman in sight.
+
+"I wish I could get across," she said, loud enough to be heard. "Mother
+won't know what has become of me."
+
+Tom saw her anxious face, and stepped up at once.
+
+"I will take you across, miss," he said, politely.
+
+"Will you?" she asked, her face brightening. "I shall be very much
+obliged to you. My poor mother is sick at home, waiting for some
+medicine I went out to get for her, and I have been standing here ten
+minutes, not daring to cross. I don't know when Broadway has been so
+full."
+
+"Take my arm," said Tom, "and don't be afraid."
+
+She had scarcely taken our hero's arm, when a rude street-boy called
+out, in derision:
+
+"Is that your girl, Tom? Ask her what she will take for her hump."
+
+"I'll lick you when I come back," retorted Tom. "Don't mind what he
+says, miss."
+
+"I don't," said the seamstress; "I'm used to it," she added with a
+patient sigh.
+
+"Don't think about it," said Tom.
+
+"You are not ashamed to be seen with a hunchback?"
+
+"There ain't no cause."
+
+By this time Tom had skillfully threaded his way with his companion
+across the street, and landed her in safety on the other side.
+
+"I am very much obliged to you," she said, gratefully. "You're a
+gentleman."
+
+With these words she nodded, and walked hastily away.
+
+"A gentleman!" repeated Tom, thoughtfully. "Nobody ever called me that
+before. My clo'es don't look much like it. Maybe it ain't all in the
+clo'es. I'd like to be a gentleman, and," he added, impulsively, "I
+mean to be one, some time. I'll have to change my business fust,
+though. Gentlemen don't generally black boots for a livin'."
+
+It was a passing thought that came to him by chance, his desire to grow
+up a gentleman, but he was more than half in earnest. He had not
+thought much about the future hitherto, but now his ambition was
+kindled, and he thought he should like to fill a respectable place in
+society.
+
+What road should he take to the success which he coveted?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE LAST INTERVIEW.
+
+
+Two weeks passed away. Tom went about his business, as usual; but every
+day he made it a point to call at the hospital to inquire how Jacob was
+getting on. At first the answers were moderately encouraging, but a
+turn came, and the doctor spoke less hopefully. Finally Tom was told
+that the old man could not live.
+
+"How soon will he die?" he asked.
+
+"He may live forty-eight hours, but it is possible that the end may
+come sooner."
+
+"Then I must see him and tell him. I promised him I would."
+
+"It may be well to do so. If he has anything to tell you before he
+dies, no time should be lost."
+
+When Tom approached Jacob's bedside he saw, from his changed
+appearance, that the doctors had told him truly. He was not used to the
+sight of those who were very sick, but soon, to an inexperienced
+observer, the signs of approaching death were plain. Tom, in the full
+vigor of perfect health, regarded his old companion with awe and pity.
+
+"How do you feel this morning, Jacob?" he asked.
+
+"I am very weak," said the old man, faintly.
+
+"Are you in much pain?"
+
+"No; the pain has gone away. If I can get stronger I shall soon be out
+again."
+
+He did not realize that this relief from pain was only a sign that
+Nature had succumbed at last, and that Death had gained the victory.
+Tom hated to dispel the illusion, but it must be done.
+
+"Jacob," he said, slowly and sadly, "I have got something to tell you."
+
+"What is it?" said the old man, in alarm.
+
+"It is something that the doctor told me just now."
+
+"He--he didn't say I was going to die?" asked Jacob, agitated.
+
+"Yes; he said you could not live."
+
+A low and feeble wail burst from the old man's lips.
+
+"I can't die," he said. "I'm not ready. I'm only sixty-five. He--he may
+be mistaken. Don't you think I look better this morning?"
+
+"You look very sick."
+
+"I don't want to die," wailed the old man. "It's only a little while
+since I was a boy. Did--did he say how long I could live?"
+
+"He said you might live forty-eight hours."
+
+"Forty-eight hours--only two days--are you sure he said that?"
+
+"Yes, Jacob. I wish I could do anything to make you live longer."
+
+"You're a good boy, Tom. I--I'm afraid I haven't been a good friend to
+you."
+
+"Yes, you have, Jacob. We have always been good friends."
+
+"But I helped do you a great wrong. I hope you will forgive me."
+
+"I don't know what it is, but I will forgive you, Jacob."
+
+"Then, perhaps, Heaven will forgive me, too. I'll do all I can. I'll
+leave you all my money."
+
+Tom did not pay much regard to this promise, for he did not know that
+Jacob had any money beyond a few shillings, or possibly a few dollars.
+
+"Thank you, Jacob," he said, "but I can earn enough to pay my expenses
+very well. Don't trouble yourself about me."
+
+"There's no one else to leave it to," said the old man. "It isn't much,
+but you shall have it."
+
+Here he drew out, with trembling fingers, the key suspended to a piece
+of twine which, through all his sickness, he had carried around his
+neck. He held it in his hand a moment, and a spasm convulsed his pale
+features. To give it up seemed like parting with life itself. It was a
+final parting with his treasure, to which, small though it was, his
+heart clung even in this solemn moment. He held it, reluctant to give
+it up, though he knew now that he must.
+
+"Take this key, Tom," he said. "It is the key to my box of gold."
+
+"I didn't know you had a box of gold," said Tom, rather surprised.
+
+"It is not much--a hundred dollars. If I had lived longer, I might have
+got more."
+
+"A hundred dollars, Jacob? I did not think you were so rich."
+
+"It will never do me any good," said the old man, bitterly. "I was a
+fool to go out in the street that day. I might have lived to be as old
+as my father. He was seventy-five when he died."
+
+Tom would like to have comforted him, but he would give him no hope of
+life, and that was what the old man longed for.
+
+"Where is the box of money?" he asked, seeking to divert Jacob's mind,
+as well as to gain a necessary piece of information.
+
+"It is under the floor of the room. You lift up a board just before you
+get to the pantry, and you will see a tin box underneath. You will find
+something else in it, Tom. It is a paper in which I wrote down all I
+know about you. You said you would forgive me for wronging you."
+
+"Yes, Jacob."
+
+"Perhaps you can get back your rights; but I am afraid not."
+
+"My rights!" repeated Tom, bewildered.
+
+"Yes; I can't tell you about it; I am too weak; the paper will tell
+you."
+
+The old man began to show signs of exhaustion. The excitement of
+learning his hopeless condition, and the conversation which he had
+already held with Tom, had overtasked his feeble strength, and he
+showed it by his appearance.
+
+"I am afraid I have staid too long, Jacob," said Tom, considerately. "I
+will go, now, but I will come back to-morrow morning."
+
+"You won't look for the box till I am gone, Tom?" said the old man,
+anxiously. "I--the doctors might be wrong; and, if I get well, I would
+want it back again."
+
+"No, Jacob, I will not look for it while you are alive."
+
+"Promise me," said Jacob, suspicious to the last, where money was
+concerned.
+
+"I promise, Jacob. Don't be troubled. I would rather have you live than
+take all the money."
+
+"Good boy!" said Jacob, faintly, as his head sank back on the pillow.
+
+Tom left the hospital ward with one last glance of compassion at the
+miserable old man, who clung to life, which had so little that is
+ordinarily counted agreeable, with despairing hope. It was the last
+time he was to see Jacob alive. The next day, when he called to inquire
+after the old man, he was told that he was dead. He sank steadily after
+his last interview with our hero, and, having parted with the key to
+his treasure, it seemed as if there was nothing left to live for.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE REVELATION.
+
+
+Tom had already made up his mind upon one point. He would accept the
+bequest of his old companion, since, in so doing, he was robbing no one
+better entitled to it. So far as he knew, the old man had no relatives
+or friends, except himself. But he was determined that, since Jacob had
+money, he should not be buried at the public expense. He would take so
+much of the hundred dollars as might be necessary, and place it in the
+hands of the doctor at Bellevue Hospital to defray the expenses of
+Jacob's funeral. He would say nothing about it, however, till he had
+actually found the money. It might be a hallucination of Jacob's, and
+have no real existence.
+
+"When will he be buried?" he inquired at the hospital.
+
+"Day after to-morrow."
+
+"How much will it cost?"
+
+"Do not trouble yourself about that," said the physician, who judged
+that Tom was poor. "That will be done at the expense of the city."
+
+"But," said Tom, conscientiously, "he left a little money. At least he
+told me so. If I find it, I will pay out of it whatever it costs."
+
+"It is not necessary."
+
+"I would rather do it; that is, if I find the money. It didn't do him
+any good while he was alive, and he lost his life in getting a part of
+it."
+
+"Then, if you find this money, you may pay the expense of the coffin."
+
+"How much will that be."
+
+"From ten to fifteen dollars."
+
+"I will bring you fifteen dollars to-morrow," said Tom.
+
+Of course Tom might easily have saved this money, and applied it to his
+own use; but his feeling was one that did him credit. As he had for
+years supported Jacob, he had of course spent for him much more than
+the hundred dollars, and so might have considered himself justly
+entitled to all the money, but this thought never occurred to him.
+
+After leaving the hospital, Tom went home at once. It was his duty now
+to ascertain whether Jacob had labored under a delusion, or whether he
+really possessed the money he had spoken of.
+
+Entering the room, he locked the door from motives of prudence. Then,
+following the directions of the old man, he went to the part of the
+room indicated, and, getting down on his knees, soon found the board
+beneath which the treasure lay. Carefully removing it, he lifted from
+beneath the box already described. By means of the key he opened it,
+and there lay before him, bright and glittering, the scanty treasure
+which had been so dear to the old man's heart. But to Tom it did not
+seem scanty. Brought up as he had been in the hard school of poverty,
+it seemed like quite a fortune, and he was filled with surprise at
+Jacob's having accumulated so much. But the old man had taken advantage
+of Tom's absence during the day to go out on frequent begging
+expeditions. Whenever he had obtained enough to amount to a gold piece,
+he was in the habit of carrying it to a broker's and effecting an
+exchange. So, little by little, he had obtained a hundred dollars,
+ninety of which were in gold, the remainder in silver.
+
+Tom deliberated what he should do with his treasure. He determined,
+until his plans were formed, to leave it in the box, taking out only
+fifteen dollars, to be carried to the hospital to defray the burial
+expenses. But there was something else besides the money to seek. Jacob
+had mentioned a paper, in which he had written out something of Tom's
+previous history, including an account of the manner in which he had
+wronged him. This paper was also easily found. It was folded once, and
+lay flat on the bottom of the box. It was somewhat discolored; but, on
+opening it, Tom found the writing quite legible. It may be a matter of
+surprise that Tom was able to read the manuscript, as many in his
+position would have been unable to do. But he had, of his own accord,
+for several winters, attended the city evening schools, and so was not
+only able to read and write, but also had some knowledge of arithmetic
+and geography. I do not claim that Tom was a good scholar, but he was
+not wholly ignorant. He took the paper from the box, and then, locking
+it, replaced it in its former place of concealment. He then sat down on
+a chair, and began to read the manuscript:
+
+"Ten years since," it began, "I was a clerk in the employ of John and
+James Grey, in Cincinnati. They were merchants, in prosperous business;
+but John was much the richer of the two. James was, in fact, a poor
+relation who had been taken in, first as a clerk, afterward as a
+partner with a small interest, but his profits and share of the
+business were small, compared with those of the senior partner. John
+was a thorough gentleman, and a liberal and excellent man. I always got
+on well with him, and I shall never forgive myself for wickedly
+consenting to do harm to him and his. I would not have done it, if it
+had not been in a manner forced upon me; but I know that this is not a
+full excuse.
+
+"James Grey I never liked. He was a more pompous man than his cousin,
+and he was often mistaken for the senior partner, because of the airs
+he put on. But John Grey only smiled at this, and often said, jokingly:
+
+"'You ought to have been in my place, James. I am afraid I don't keep
+up the dignity of the establishment. I am too quiet.'
+
+"To me, who was only a clerk, though an old and trusted one, James was
+always supercilious and overbearing. He seemed to look down upon me,
+though, having only a small interest in the concern, I didn't look upon
+him as very much my superior.
+
+"John Grey was far different. He always treated me with kindness and
+politeness, and I felt it a pleasure to serve such a man. It was a
+great grief to me when he died. I knew well enough that I should feel
+the change, but I did nor dream of what actually followed.
+
+"John Grey's death took everybody by surprise. He was a stout, robust
+man, and seemed the picture of health; but it was in this habit of body
+that his danger lay. He was found one day on the floor of his chamber
+dead, his death resulting, as the doctors said, from apoplexy. He left
+considerable property, besides his share in the business. All this was
+left to his son, then a boy of five years of age. The boy's name was
+Gilbert. You, Tom, are that boy! Let me tell you how it happened that
+you, the son of a wealthy father, and the heir to great wealth, are now
+a poor bootblack in the streets of New York, with no prospects before
+you but a life of labor.
+
+"According to your father's will, the whole property was left to his
+cousin, James Grey, in trust for you. But, in case of your death, your
+guardian was to inherit the whole of the property. If John Grey had
+known more of the selfish and worthless character of his cousin, he
+would never have made such a will. But he had perfect confidence in
+him, and judged him by himself. He did not see that he had exposed him
+to a very strong temptation, a temptation which, as it proved, he was
+unable to resist.
+
+"Mr. James Grey, who was boarding with his wife and son, a boy of about
+your own age, immediately moved to your father's beautiful house, and
+installed himself there, taking you under his charge. For several
+months matters went on quietly, and I began to think that I had
+misjudged my new employer. But I did not know the trouble that was in
+store for me. First, my whole property, a few thousand dollars which I
+had saved, had been intrusted to a gentleman in whom I had confidence,
+and by him invested for me. He failed, dishonestly, as I suspect, and
+so all my savings were lost. Troubles never come singly, so they say,
+and so I found out. While I was almost crushed under this blow, another
+fell upon me. One morning some valuable securities, belonging to the
+firm, were missing. Of course they were sought for, and, as a matter of
+form--so Mr. Grey said--the desks of all in the establishment were
+searched. What was my horror when the missing securities were found in
+my desk! Of course, this was ruin. My reputation, my future, were in
+the hands of James Grey. I could not account for the discovery, knowing
+my innocence; but I now feel sure that my employer put the papers in my
+desk himself.
+
+"Instead of arresting me, he told me to come up to his house that
+evening. I came. I protested my innocence.
+
+"He asked me pointedly if I could prove it. I told him no. Then he said
+that he had a plan in view. If I could aid him, he would forgive my
+offense, and would not have me arrested. Cautiously he unfolded the
+plan, and it was this: In consideration of five thousand dollars in
+gold, I was to carry you off by night, and sail with you to Australia,
+changing your name to Tom, and must agree nevermore to bring you back
+to America, or let you know who you were. Of course, I knew that this
+was only a plot to get possession of the property, and I told him so.
+He freely admitted it to me, but coolly threatened me with the severest
+punishment of the law for my supposed crime if I disclosed it, or
+refused to aid him.
+
+"Well, the result of it all was that I agreed to his terms. It was
+arranged as had been agreed on, and I left Cincinnati, secretly, with
+you under my charge. Arriving in New York, I sailed for Australia,
+under an assumed name. But when I arrived, I didn't like the country.
+After a year, I took passage in a vessel bound for New York. We were
+wrecked, and all my money was lost. We were saved by a vessel bound for
+the same port, and, at length, reached it, penniless. How we have lived
+since, you know as well as I do. It has been a wretched life; but I
+never dared to write to Mr. Grey, lest he should have me arrested for
+embezzling the securities. But I have often hoped that retribution
+would come upon him, and that you might be restored to your rights. I
+have heard that he closed up the business, and removed farther West,
+having proved, by a witness whom he bribed, that you had been drowned
+in the Ohio River. The body of a poor boy was exhibited as yours.
+
+"If you ever meet James Grey, you will recognize him by this
+description. He is a large man, with a square face, gray eyes, and a
+scar on his right cheek, an inch long. I don't know where he got the
+scar, but it is always red, especially when he is excited."
+
+Tom dropped the paper in his amazement.
+
+"Why," he soliloquized, "it must be the man whose boots I blacked one
+morning before the Astor House. He must have knowed me, or he wouldn't
+have asked so many questions."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+TOM TURNS OVER A NEW LEAF.
+
+
+The communication which he had just read gave Tom much to think of. Up
+to this time he knew nothing of his past history. Now a clear light was
+thrown upon it, and it remained for him to decide what he would do. He
+knew as much as this, that the man who had wronged him was still
+living. Where he lived was unknown. That was the first thing to
+discover. The next was, to make him disgorge the property of which he
+was in unlawful possession. It seemed wonderful to Tom to reflect that,
+if he had his rights, he would be heir to a large fortune.
+
+"There's a lot of money lyin' around loose somewheres that belongs to
+me," said Tom to himself. "Blest if it don't seem like a dream. I'd
+like to set eyes on that old feller with a scar again."
+
+Tom leaned his head on his hand, and devoted five minutes to
+reflection. During that brief interval, he made up his mind what to do.
+He would leave New York, giving up his business into other hands, and
+set his face westward, in search of his fraudulent guardian and his
+fortune. He might have been embarrassed about this, but for the
+opportune legacy of old Jacob. It wasn't very large, but it would, at
+all events, start him on his journey. Then he must trust to luck and
+his own exertions for the rest.
+
+He was not in the least afraid but that he could get along. He had
+supported himself for years, and he knew he could again.
+
+I may as well warn my young readers here that there is no occasion for
+them to forsake comfortable homes to follow Tom's example.
+Circumstances alter cases, and, what was right for Tom, would not be
+right for them. I have in mind the case of two boys who left
+comfortable homes in quest of adventure, without any good reason, and
+were very glad to get back again in a few days, without a penny in
+their pockets, utterly unsuccessful. If fortune drives you out, do your
+best, but never leave a good home when you are well off, or you will
+repent it.
+
+"I'll take some of this money," said Tom to himself, "and buy some
+clo'es. I ain't goin' to travel in these rags. Considerin' I'm heir to
+a fortune, I'll dress respectable."
+
+Tom withdrew fifty dollars from the miser's hoard, then went to the
+hospital and left fifteen dollars to defray the expenses of Jacob's
+burial.
+
+"It's the last I can do for him," thought Tom. "I hope, if I live to be
+as old as he was, somebody'll do as much for me."
+
+The thought of his old companion made him sad for the moment, but his
+mind was full of his future plans, and he quickly became cheerful
+again.
+
+Before going to buy new clothes, it struck Tom that it would be a good
+plan to take a bath. I should not like to say how long it was since he
+had washed himself all over, but it is well known that excessive
+neatness is not a characteristic of street-boys. It had never troubled
+Tom much to have a spot of blacking on his face, or to see his hands
+bearing the traces of the business by which he made his living. Now,
+however, he determined to turn over a new leaf.
+
+"I'm going to set up for a gentleman," he said, "and I must look
+respectable."
+
+There was a hotel near by, where warm and cold baths were provided to
+the general public, at twenty-five cents apiece. He made his way
+thither, and entered the barber shop adjoining. Just before him was a
+gentleman who inquired for a bath, and was led into the adjoining
+apartment. When the attendant came back, Tom went up to him.
+
+"Well, boy; what's wanted?" he asked.
+
+"I want a warm bath," answered Tom, boldly.
+
+"You!" exclaimed the attendant, surveying the boy in alarm.
+
+"Yes," said Tom. "Don't you think I need it?"
+
+"I should say you did," returned the other. "How long since you took
+one?"
+
+"I can't exactly remember," said Tom.
+
+"Did you ever take a bath in your life?"
+
+"That's a leadin' question," said Tom. "I never took any except at the
+Fifth Avenoo Hotel. They've got bully baths there."
+
+"Have they? Then I think you'd better go there now."
+
+"It's too far off, and I'm in a hurry. I'm invited to dine with the
+mayor, and I wouldn't like to go dirty."
+
+"If you bathe here, we shall charge you double price."
+
+"How much is that?"
+
+"Fifty cents."
+
+"Well, I am rich. I can afford it."
+
+"Money payable in advance."
+
+"All right," said Tom. "Here's fifty cents. I'm a young man of fortun',
+though I don't look like it. I've been boot-blackin' for a joke. When I
+come in to my money, I'll get shaved here regular."
+
+"You're a case," said the attendant, laughing.
+
+"That's so," said Tom. "Now, just show me the bath-tub, and give me a
+bar of soap, and I'll get my money's worth."
+
+The attendant led the way to the bath-room, first collecting the fifty
+cents which he had decided to charge. The water was turned on, and Tom
+went to work energetically to wash off the stains and dirt which, in
+the course of his street-life, he had contrived to accumulate. Tom
+never did anything by halves, and he set himself to work with a will,
+sparing neither strength nor soap. The result was that he effected a
+very great change for the better.
+
+"I wish I'd got some better clo'es to put on," he thought, as with
+reluctance he drew on the ragged attire which had served him for some
+months, getting more ragged and dirty every day. "I'll buy some as soon
+as I get out."
+
+He surveyed himself in the mirror and his long, unkempt locks attracted
+his attention.
+
+"I must have my hair cut," he decided.
+
+On his way out he saw a vacant chair, and seated himself in it.
+
+"Do you want to be shaved?" asked one of the barbers.
+
+"Not to-day," said Tom. "You may cut off some of my wool. Mind you give
+me a fashionable cut."
+
+"Oh, I'll take care of that," said the journeyman.
+
+"If you do what's right," said Tom, "I'll recommend all my friends on
+Fifth avenoo to come here."
+
+"Is that the Fifth avenue style of coat?" asked the barber, pointing to
+several large holes in Tom's most prominent article of dress.
+
+"It's a dress I wore to a masquerade ball last evenin'," said Tom. "I
+went in the character of a bootblack."
+
+"You made a pretty good imitation," said the knight of the scissors,
+who had already commenced operations on Tom's head.
+
+"That's what all the ladies told me," said Tom. "They said they
+wouldn't have knowed me from the genooine article."
+
+In about twenty minutes the task was completed.
+
+"How's that?" said the barber.
+
+Tom looked in the mirror, and hardly recognized his image, so much was
+it altered by the careful arrangement of his hair.
+
+"If it wasn't for the clo'es," he said, "I would think it was another
+boy."
+
+He paid his bill and left the hotel.
+
+"The next thing must be some new clo'es," he said to himself; "then
+I'll begin to feel respectable."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+THE EFFECT OF A NEW SUIT.
+
+
+Tom bent his steps in the direction of a large and popular clothing
+establishment, and, entering, looked about for an unoccupied salesman.
+
+"Well, boy, what's wanted?" asked a young man behind the counter.
+
+"I want some clo'es."
+
+"Then you've come to the right place. Did you buy them you have on
+here?" asked the salesman, with a grin.
+
+"Young feller," said Tom, "these clo'es were bought before you were
+born."
+
+"So I should think, from the looks."
+
+"I'd make 'em do for a few years longer, only I'm goin' to be married
+next week. Have you got any bridal suits?"
+
+"Step this way. I suppose you have got money to pay for them?" remarked
+the clerk, doubtfully.
+
+"You suppose right. Just lead the way, and I'll see what you've got."
+
+"How high are you willing to go?"
+
+"Anywhere from twenty-five cents to twenty-five dollars."
+
+"Our twenty-five cent suits are all out; but we can give you some for
+fifteen dollars, and as much more as you like."
+
+"Show me some at fifteen."
+
+Tom looked at some suits at this price. They were well made, but
+coarse, and did not quite come up to his ideas of what was appropriate
+for a young man of fortune.
+
+"Show me some for twenty-five dollars," he said. "These ain't good
+enough to be married in."
+
+Finally, Tom picked out a dark mixed suit, which appeared to be an
+exact fit. The price was twenty dollars, which he considered
+reasonable, and at once paid.
+
+"Shall I send them home for you?" asked the clerk, regarding our hero
+with more respect, now that he had shown himself a purchaser for cash.
+
+"Never mind; I'll take 'em myself," said Tom. "My carriage is waitin'
+outside, so it's no trouble."
+
+He left the store with the clothes under his arm. But he was not yet
+wholly provided. He had no shirts, stockings, or under-clothes, which
+he cared to wear in the new life upon which he was entering. All must
+be procured. He stopped at a cheap store in Nassau street, and provided
+himself with half a dozen of each, at a cost of twenty dollars more. By
+this time he found himself so encumbered with bundles that he thought
+it best to go home.
+
+He entered the room without attracting attention, and proceeded at once
+to throw off his old rags, and array himself in the new clothes,
+including a blue silk neck-tie which he had purchased. When his toilet
+was complete, he surveyed himself with no little complacency. For the
+first time in all the years that he could remember, he was attired,
+from top to toe, as a young gentleman.
+
+"Blest if I couldn't pass myself off for a young Fifth avenoodle," he
+said to himself. "I'll go down and see Mrs. Flanagan. I wonder if
+she'll know me?"
+
+He descended the stairs, and knocked at the door of the good-hearted
+Irishwoman.
+
+She did not recognize him, having no idea that it was Tom the
+bootblack.
+
+"Does Mrs. Flanagan live here?" asked Tom, slightly disguising his
+voice.
+
+"Yes, sir. Is it washing ye want me to do?"
+
+"Is there a boy named Tom lives here?" asked our hero.
+
+"He lives up stairs, just over this."
+
+"Do you know him?"
+
+"Shure I do. I know him as if he was my own bye."
+
+"I don't know about that," said Tom, in his natural voice, raising his
+hat, which he had worn slouched down over his eyes. "You didn't seem to
+know him when you saw him."
+
+"Shure it's Tom himself!" exclaimed Mrs. Flanagan. "Why, Tom, dear,
+what's come to you? You're lookin' quite the gintleman."
+
+"Of course I am," said Tom. "That's the new business I've gone into."
+
+"Where did you get them new clo'es, Tom?"
+
+"I bought them with the money old Jacob left me. And now, Mrs.
+Flanagan, I'm goin' to leave you."
+
+"Where are you goin', Tom?"
+
+"I'm goin' out West, to seek my fortune."
+
+"Shure I hope you'll find it."
+
+"So do I, Mrs. Flanagan. I know it's there, and mean to get it, if I
+can."
+
+"Are you goin' now?"
+
+"Not till to-morrow. I've got some more things to buy first."
+
+"I'm sorry to lose you, Tom. I'll miss you and old Jacob. I hope the
+poor man's better off."
+
+"So do I, Mrs. Flanagan. I won't hide it from you--but he left me a
+paper, tellin' me that there is a man out West that's cheated me out of
+my fortune."
+
+"What's his name?"
+
+"Grey. He's my father's cousin."
+
+"Where does he live?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"Then how will you find him?"
+
+"I know how he looks. He was in New York a little while ago, and I
+blacked his boots. When I come into my fortune, I'll make you a
+handsome present, Mrs. Flanagan."
+
+"Shure I hope you'll get it widout the present."
+
+"Now I must be goin'. I've got to buy a carpet-bag and umbrella."
+
+"Come in and bid me good-by before you go, Tom."
+
+"Yes, I will."
+
+Tom went out into the street, when it occurred to him that there was
+one article he had not yet renewed--his hat. He lost no time in
+visiting a hat store, where he supplied himself with one of fashionable
+shape. He could not resist the temptation, also, of purchasing a small,
+jaunty cane. Being naturally a good-looking boy, I am justified in
+saying that, in his new outfit, he would have easily passed muster as
+the son of a man of wealth. In fact, so effectually was he disguised,
+that he passed some of his old street companions without their
+recognizing him. Tom was rather amused and pleased at this. As he
+passed his old rival and enemy, Pat Walsh, it struck him that it would
+be a good joke to employ him to black his shoes, of which I neglected
+to say that he had purchased a new pair. Pat was just finishing off a
+customer, when Tom stepped up.
+
+"Shine yer boots?" asked Pat.
+
+"Yes, boy, and be quick about it," answered Tom, assuming a tone of
+haughty command.
+
+Pat was at once on his knees, blacking the shoes of his old rival
+without the slightest suspicion of his identity.
+
+"Humph! do you call that a good shine?" demanded Tom, when the first
+shoe was finished. "I could black it better myself."
+
+"What do you know about blackin' boots?" said Pat, angrily. "There
+ain't a boy round here can give you a better shine than that."
+
+"I got my boots blacked yesterday by a boy named Tom. He gave me a
+better shine."
+
+Just then Pat looked up in his face, and started in surprise.
+
+"You're Tom yourself," he said. "Where'd you get them clo'es?"
+
+"Do you dare to compare me to a bootblack?" said Tom. "My name is
+Gilbert."
+
+"You look like Tom's twin-brother, then," said Pat, bewildered.
+
+Tom didn't reply, but walked off in a dignified manner, after paying
+Pat, swinging his cane in the most approved style.
+
+"Don't he look like Tom, though?" soliloquized Pat, bewildered.
+
+Tom enjoyed the joke, but didn't venture to laugh till he was out of
+sight.
+
+"No wonder Pat didn't know," he thought. "I ain't sure I'd know myself,
+it I'd gone to sleep a bootblack and waked up as I am now."
+
+Tom made his purchases, took supper at a restaurant, and went to bed
+early. It was his last night in the city. On the next day he was to
+start for the West, in quest of fortune.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+BESSIE BENTON.
+
+
+Tom called the next day at the hospital, and left ten dollars, finding
+this to be the right amount for Jacob's coffin. He took a last look at
+the old man, so long his companion, and then, feeling that he could do
+no more, went on his way. He next went to a railroad office, on
+Broadway, and bought a through-ticket to Cincinnati. This was the city
+where, according to Jacob's story, his father had been in business, and
+he himself had been born. His inquiries for the uncle who had defrauded
+him must commence here.
+
+Having taken his seat in the cars, he was led to make an examination of
+his pocket-book. He found it, by no means, well filled. A hundred
+dollars had seemed to him a good deal of money, but he had expended
+half of it for clothes. His railway ticket, and the money he left at
+the hospital, consumed thirty dollars more, and he had, therefore, but
+twenty dollars left.
+
+"That ain't much to set up as a gentleman on," said Tom to himself. "I
+didn't know it cost so much to get along; I'll have to go to work afore
+long."
+
+Tom was not in the least daunted, however; he had always been
+accustomed to earn his living, and didn't doubt that he could do it
+now.
+
+He had little money, but he had his wits and two strong arms, and he
+thought he could keep out of the poor-house. No anxious fears for the
+future marred the pleasure which the journey afforded him. With an eye
+of interest he regarded the rich and productive country through which
+the train was speeding at the rate of twenty-five miles an hour.
+
+There is more than one route from New York to Cincinnati, a fact of
+which Tom knew nothing, and it was only by accident that he had
+selected that which led through Buffalo. He stopped over a night at
+this enterprising city, and at an early hour entered the cars to go on
+to the chief city in Ohio. The passengers were nearly all seated. In
+fact, every seat was occupied, except that beside Tom, when a stout,
+elderly gentleman entered the car, followed by an attractive young girl
+of fourteen.
+
+"There don't seem to be any seats, Bessie," he said.
+
+"Here's one, uncle," said the young lady, indicating the seat of which
+our hero occupied half.
+
+"Is this seat engaged, young man?" asked the old gentleman.
+
+Tom looked up, and, seeing that a pretty girl was to sit beside him,
+answered, with alacrity:
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Then, Bessie, you may as well sit down here. I am very sorry you must
+take this long journey alone. I thought, till the last moment, that Mr.
+Armstrong was going."
+
+"Oh! never mind, uncle; I can get along well enough."
+
+"But it don't seem right; I am afraid your father will blame me."
+
+"Perhaps," said Bessie, with a little coquettish glance at Tom, whom
+she privately thought a very good-looking boy; "perhaps this young
+gentleman will look after me."
+
+The old gentleman looked dubious, and would have preferred a person of
+more maturity. Still, there was no choice, and he said:
+
+"Young man, are you going to Cincinnati?"
+
+"Yes, sir," said Tom.
+
+"Then, if it won't be too much trouble, I will ask you to look after my
+niece a little. I am unable to go with her myself."
+
+"All right, sir; I'll do it," said Tom, in a confident tone.
+
+"There goes the bell, uncle," said Bessie. "You'd better go, or you
+will be carried along with us."
+
+The old gentleman bent over and kissed his niece. Our hero thought he
+should have been willing to relieve him of the duty. The young girl
+beside him looked so fresh and pretty that, though he was too young to
+fall in love, he certainly did feel considerable pleasure in the
+thought that she was to be his companion in a journey of several
+hundred miles. It gave him a feeling of importance, being placed in
+charge of her, and he couldn't help wondering whether he would have got
+the chance if he had been dressed in his old street suit.
+
+"There's a good deal in clo's," thought Tom, philosophically. "It makes
+all the difference between a young gentleman and a bootblack."
+
+"Would you like to sit by the window?" he asked, by way of being
+sociable and polite.
+
+"Oh, no! I can see very well from here," said the young lady. "Do you
+come from Buffalo?"
+
+"No; I am from New York."
+
+"I never was there; I should like to go very much. I have heard that
+Central Park is a beautiful place."
+
+"Yes, it's a bully place," said Tom.
+
+Bessie laughed.
+
+"That's a regular boy's word," she said. "Miss Wiggins, our teacher,
+was always horrified when she heard any of us girls use it. I remember
+one day I let it out without thinking, and she heard it. 'Miss Benton,'
+said she, 'never again let me hear you employ that _inelegant_
+expression. That a young lady _under my charge_ should, _even once_,
+have been guilty of such a breach of propriety, mortifies me
+extremely.'"
+
+Bessie pursed up her pretty lips, and imitated the manner of the prim
+schoolmistress, to the great amusement of our hero.
+
+"Is that the way she talked?" he asked.
+
+"Yes; and she glared at me through her spectacles. She looked like a
+beauty, with her tall bony figure, and thin face. Did you ever go to
+boarding-school?"
+
+"No," said Tom; "nor to any other," he might almost have added.
+
+"You wouldn't like it, though boys' boarding-schools may be better than
+girls'. I have been two years at Miss Wiggins' boarding-school, in
+Buffalo. Now I'm going home, on a vacation, and I really hope papa
+won't send me there again."
+
+"Do you live in Cincinnati?"
+
+"Yes--that is, papa does. Are you going to stay there long?"
+
+"I think I shall live there," said Tom, who fancied it would be
+agreeable to live in the same city with Bessie Benton.
+
+"Oh, I hope you will! Then you could come and see us."
+
+"That would be bully," Tom was about to say, but it occurred to him
+that it would be in better taste to say: "I should like to very much."
+
+"Have you finished your education?" asked Bessie.
+
+"There wasn't much to finish," thought Tom, but he said, aloud:
+
+"Maybe I'll study a little more."
+
+"Where did you study?" asked the persevering Bessie.
+
+"I've been to Columbia College," said Tom, after a little pause.
+
+So he had been up to the college grounds, but I am afraid he intended
+Bessie to believe something else.
+
+"Then you must know a great deal," said Bessie. "Do you like Latin and
+Greek very much?"
+
+"Not _very_ much," said Tom.
+
+"I never went farther than the Latin verbs. They're tiresome, ain't
+they?"
+
+"I'll bet they are," said Tom, who wouldn't have known a Latin verb
+from a Greek noun.
+
+"I suppose they come easier to boys. Were you long in college?"
+
+"Not long."
+
+"I suppose you were a Freshman?"
+
+"Yes," said Tom, hazarding a guess.
+
+"Don't the Sophomores play all sorts of tricks on the Freshmen?"
+
+"Awful," said Tom, who found it safest to chime in with the remarks of
+the young lady.
+
+"I had a cousin at Yale College," continued Bessie. "When he was a
+Freshman, the Sophomores broke into his room one night, blindfolded
+him, and carried him off somewhere. Then they made him smoke a pipe,
+which made him awful sick, and poured a pail of water over his head.
+Did they ever do such things to you?"
+
+"No, they wouldn't dare to," said our hero.
+
+"You couldn't help yourself."
+
+"Yes, I could; I'd put a head on them."
+
+"I don't know what Miss Wiggins would say if she should hear you talk.
+She'd have a fit."
+
+"What did I say?" he asked, innocently.
+
+"You said you'd _put a head_ on them."
+
+"So I would."
+
+"Only it is a very inelegant expression, as Miss Wiggins says."
+
+"If you don't like it, I won't say it any more."
+
+"Oh! I don't care," said Bessie, laughing. "You needn't be afraid I'll
+have a fit. I ain't such a model of propriety as that. Perhaps I shall
+be some time, when I get to be a stiff old maid like Priscilla
+Wiggins."
+
+"You won't be that."
+
+"How do you know?" said Bessie, saucily.
+
+"You don't look like it."
+
+"Don't I? Perhaps nobody will marry me," she said, demurely.
+
+"If nobody else will, send for me!" said Tom, blushing immediately at
+his unexpected boldness.
+
+"Am I to regard that as a proposal?" asked Bessie, her eyes sparkling
+with fun.
+
+"Yes, if you want to," said Tom, manfully.
+
+"I'm sure I'm very much obliged," said the young lady. "I won't forget
+it, and, if _nobody else_ will have me, I'll send for you."
+
+"She's a trump," he thought, but fortunately didn't make use of a word
+which would have been highly objectionable to Miss Wiggins.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+TOM ARRIVES IN CINCINNATI.
+
+
+"You haven't told me your name yet," said Bessie, after a while.
+
+"Gilbert Grey," said Tom.
+
+The name sounded strange to himself, for he had always been called Tom;
+but his street-life was over. He had entered upon a new career, and it
+was fitting that he should resume the name to which he had a rightful
+claim.
+
+"That's a good name," said Bessie, approvingly. "Would you like to know
+mine?"
+
+"I know it already--it's Bessie Benton."
+
+"Oh, you heard me use it. Do you like it?"
+
+"Tip-top."
+
+"That's another of your boy-words."
+
+"Isn't it good?"
+
+"I like it well enough. I'm not Miss Wiggins."
+
+I am not going to inflict on the reader a full account of all that was
+said on the journey by Bessie and her young protector. They chatted
+upon a variety of topics, Tom taking care not to be too communicative
+touching his street experiences. He wanted to stand well with Bessie,
+and was afraid that she would not be quite so pleased and social with
+him if she should learn that he had been a knight of the
+blacking-brush.
+
+It was early evening when the train reached Cincinnati.
+
+"I think papa will be here to meet me," said Bessie, looking out of the
+car window, as they entered the depot. "Uncle telegraphed him from
+Buffalo that I would arrive by this train."
+
+Our hero was sorry they were already at their journey's end. He had
+enjoyed Bessie's company, and he knew that he might never meet her
+again. Though he knew nothing of etiquette, he did what was proper on
+the occasion, and assisted Bessie to ascend the steps upon the
+platform.
+
+Bessie looked around to find a familiar face.
+
+"Oh, there's Cousin Maurice!" she said. "Here, Maurice, here I am."
+
+A boy, somewhat taller than our hero, who no doubt considered himself a
+young man, came forward, and was about to kiss Bessie, but the latter
+drew back slightly and frustrated his design by giving him her hand
+instead.
+
+Maurice colored a little, and looked vexed.
+
+"Where is papa? Didn't he come?" she asked, quickly.
+
+"He was busy, and sent me. Won't I do as well?"
+
+"Of course I am glad to see you, but I hoped papa would be here."
+
+"The carriage is outside; let us hurry," said Maurice, taking her arm.
+
+"Wait a minute," said Bessie, releasing her arm. She walked up to Tom,
+and, taking his hand cordially, said: "Good-by, Gilbert. I'm ever so
+much obliged to you for taking care of me. We live at 116 B---- street.
+I hope you will call in a day or two. Papa will be glad to see you, and
+he will thank you, too."
+
+Tom's face flushed with pleasure.
+
+"Thank you, Miss Bessie," he said. "I'd like to do it all over again."
+
+"You'll be sure to come?"
+
+"Yes, I'll come."
+
+Maurice listened to this conversation with impatient annoyance. He
+liked his pretty cousin enough to be jealous of any one to whom she
+seemed attentive, and he thought her altogether too cordial with this
+strange boy.
+
+"Who's that fellow?" he asked, as they were passing out of the depot.
+
+"I don't know whom you mean."
+
+"The boy you spoke to."
+
+"The _young gentleman_ I spoke to," remarked Bessie, with emphasis,
+"was Gilbert Grey."
+
+"And who is Gilbert Grey, and how did you become acquainted with him?"
+
+"Uncle Henry put me in his charge," said Bessie. "I've traveled with
+him all the way from Buffalo."
+
+"A great protector he is!" sneered Maurice. "He isn't old enough to
+take charge of a kitten."
+
+"A kitten would be more trouble than I was," said Bessie. "She might
+scratch. I never do that, you know, Cousin Maurice."
+
+"I should think Uncle Henry might have found some older person to put
+you in charge of."
+
+"I am glad he didn't. Gilbert was real nice."
+
+"You shouldn't call him by his first name; it isn't proper."
+
+"Pray don't talk about what's proper. I heard enough of that from Miss
+Wiggins. Besides, he's only a boy, you know, though, to be sure, he
+looks almost as old as you."
+
+"Don't be so provoking, Bessie. I am much larger than he."
+
+"Are you? I didn't see it."
+
+"I am sorry you invited him to the house, Bessie. He only traveled with
+you a few hours. There is no need of becoming intimate with him on that
+account."
+
+"I want to become intimate with him," said Bessie, with provoking
+frankness. "He's very nice."
+
+"He seemed to me rather a low, common fellow," said Maurice, irritated.
+
+"You needn't like him, if you don't want to," said Bessie. "Let us talk
+about something else," and she began to make inquiries about home
+affairs.
+
+We return to Tom, whom we left standing on the platform in the depot.
+
+"Have a carriage, sir?" asked a hackman.
+
+"Where to?"
+
+"Anywhere you like--Burnett House."
+
+"If you know of any nice hotel where they'll board me for the pleasure
+of my company, you can take me right along."
+
+"They don't do business that way, here."
+
+"Never mind, then. I guess my private carriage is outside."
+
+Tom, of course, knew nothing of Cincinnati; but, picking out a man with
+a carpet-bag, whose dress indicated limited means, he followed him.
+
+"He won't stop at any of the tip-top hotels," thought our hero. "I
+can't afford to go first-class any more; my pocket-book ain't so full
+as it was."
+
+He followed his unconscious guide nearly a mile. The latter finally
+stopped before a small, third-class hotel, which bore the name Ohio
+House. After a slight pause he entered, and Tom followed him. After the
+man had registered his name, Tom went up to the desk.
+
+"What do you charge?" he asked.
+
+"Two dollars a day."
+
+"Is that the lowest price?"
+
+"Where a party stays a week, it's ten dollars," was the reply.
+
+"All right," said our hero.
+
+"Will you register your name?"
+
+Tom took the pen, and would have put down "Gilbert Grey," but, as we
+know, his education had been neglected, and he was not at all sure as
+to the proper way of spelling Gilbert. After a little reflection, he
+put down:
+
+    G. GREY, New York.
+
+The clerk wrote the number of a room opposite, and asked our hero if he
+would go to his room before supper.
+
+Tom decided that he would, and was shown into a stuffy little bedroom,
+which would never have been mistaken, even by the most inexperienced,
+for a room in a first-class hotel. However, our hero was not very
+particular--he had never been accustomed to luxurious accommodations,
+and he was perfectly satisfied with No. 12.
+
+"You can go," said he to the servant, "I'll be down in a jiffy."
+
+He washed his face and hands--for even in the days of his street-life
+he had paid more regard to neatness than most of his class--opened his
+carpet-bag and took out a clean paper collar, which he substituted for
+the one he wore, and, after brushing his hair, went down stairs. He did
+not have long to wait for his supper, nor was he wanting in appetite.
+Though the establishment could boast of no French cook, the table was
+spread with substantial dishes, which Tom attacked vigorously.
+
+"There's nothing like a good square meal, when a fellow's hungry," he
+said to himself. "It's more than old Jacob and I often got. I wonder
+what the old man would say if he knew I was payin' two dollars a day
+out of his money? I can't foller it up long, that's one sure thing. But
+it's no use worrying before it's time. I guess I'll find something to
+do in a big place like this."
+
+Our hero knew little or nothing about geography, or the comparative
+size of places. He fancied that Cincinnati was nearly as large as New
+York. At any rate, it was large enough to afford a living for a young
+man of pluck and industry. He was no doubt correct in this. Pluck and
+industry are pretty sure to make their way in any place, whatever its
+size, and these qualities Tom certainly possessed.
+
+He took up a copy of a Cincinnati daily, and looked over its columns to
+see if there was any vacant position which he could fill.
+
+    WANTED--A gentleman of experience and ability, as Principal of the
+    ---- Grammar School. Salary, $2,500 the first year.
+
+"The pay would suit me pretty well," said Tom, "and I guess I could
+lick some of the bad boys; but I could teach 'em all I know in half a
+day. Here's a coachman wanted. That won't do, either. 'Wanted.--A man
+with a small capital, to enter upon a light, genteel business.' I've
+got the small capital, and it's gettin' smaller every day. Perhaps I
+wouldn't be genteel enough."
+
+After awhile Tom, having exhausted the advertisements, and found
+nothing to suit him, felt himself growing sleepy, and went up to bed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+BESSIE BENTON AT HOME.
+
+
+Tom came down to breakfast rather late the next day, but he felt fresh
+and hopeful, having slept off all his fatigue. He had money enough left
+to pay his board for a week and a half, and was not under the immediate
+necessity of obtaining work. He felt curious to see the city he was in,
+and devoted the day to wandering about the streets. He took pains to
+find out where B---- street, the residence of Bessie Benton, was. He
+had made up his mind to call there that evening. It was a quiet,
+substantial house, in a nice street, indicating, in its appearance, the
+social position of the family.
+
+About four o'clock in the afternoon, Tom ascended the steps and rang
+the bell.
+
+"Is Miss Bessie Benton at home?" he inquired of the servant who
+answered his summons.
+
+"Yes. Who shall I say wishes to see her?"
+
+"Tom--I mean Gilbert Grey," said our hero, who came near forgetting his
+new name.
+
+"Walk in, sir."
+
+Tom was ushered into a handsome parlor, and took his seat on a sofa.
+
+"This is rather ahead of the room old Jacob and I used to live in," he
+thought. "I didn't make many fashionable calls then."
+
+He was interrupted by the entrance of Bessie herself, who advanced
+frankly, and welcomed him with evident pleasure.
+
+"I'm glad you didn't forget to call, Gilbert," she said.
+
+"I wanted to see you again," said Tom, with unconventional frankness.
+
+"I'm glad you did. I want to introduce you to papa."
+
+"Is he at home?"
+
+"No, he won't be home till supper time. But, of course, you'll stay to
+supper?"
+
+"I don't know," said Tom, awkwardly.
+
+"Papa told me to invite you. He expects you."
+
+"Then I'll stay," said Tom, promptly.
+
+"How do you like the city? Have you been about much?"
+
+"Yes, I've been goin' round all day. It isn't as big as New York, but I
+like it."
+
+Just then Maurice Walton entered the parlor. He stopped short on seeing
+Tom, not over-pleased at the sight of a possible rival.
+
+"This is Gilbert. Mr. Grey, Maurice," said Bessie.
+
+"How d'ye do?" returned Maurice, ungraciously.
+
+"Pretty well," said Tom. "I hope you're the same."
+
+"You found the way up here pretty quick," said Maurice, rather rudely.
+
+"Yes," said Tom. "I wanted to see your cousin--and you," he added,
+slyly, perceiving the feelings of Maurice.
+
+"Where are you stopping?"
+
+"At a hotel."
+
+"So I supposed. There are several hotels in the city," he remarked,
+with a sneer.
+
+"Are there?" asked Tom, innocently.
+
+"Are you stopping at Burnett's?"
+
+"No."
+
+"That is the most fashionable hotel."
+
+"That is the reason I didn't go there. I ain't fashionable myself."
+
+"You don't say so?" sneered Maurice.
+
+"Are you?"
+
+"I hope so."
+
+Here Bessie Benton burst into a laugh.
+
+"What a vain, self-conceited boy you are, Maurice," she said.
+
+"I don't call myself a boy at all," said Maurice, with lofty
+indignation.
+
+"You're a young gentleman, then?"
+
+"Of course I am."
+
+"At what hotel did you say you stopped?" he asked, a minute later.
+
+"I didn't say," said Tom.
+
+Bessie laughed again, and Maurice colored with anger.
+
+"If you'd rather not tell," he returned, "it's of no consequence."
+
+"It's the Ohio Hotel."
+
+"I never heard of it."
+
+"Didn't you?"
+
+"It can't be much of a hotel."
+
+"I've seen better myself," said Tom. "It don't compare with the Fifth
+Avenue, in New York."
+
+"Did you ever stop there?"
+
+"I've been there often."
+
+Tom did not explain that he once blacked boots in front of the hotel
+for several weeks. He did not feel disposed to take Maurice too much in
+his confidence. The fact is, that Maurice was considerably mystified as
+to Tom's position and claims to consideration.
+
+There was, of course, a certain want of polish about our hero, the
+result of his early associations, which led Maurice to doubt if Tom was
+not socially his inferior. On the other hand, Tom's free and easy
+allusions to the Fifth Avenue Hotel, for instance, tended to combat
+this view. He became silent, and listened to the conversation between
+his cousin and Tom, which was altogether too free and animated to suit
+his taste.
+
+"I wonder how long he's going to stay?" he thought.
+
+"Isn't it most supper time, Bessie?" he asked, at length.
+
+"Why? Are you hungry?"
+
+"Rather," said Maurice, looking significantly at Tom, hoping that he
+would take the hint and go. He was ignorant of the invitation which had
+been given and accepted.
+
+"Mr. Grey will stop to supper, Maurice," said Bessie.
+
+"Oh! will he?" said Maurice; but his manner was far from showing
+pleasure.
+
+He left the room soon after, and, at six, Mr. Benton came in. He was a
+stout, pleasant-looking man, with a look of Bessie about the eyes, and
+he very cordially welcomed our hero.
+
+"My daughter tells me you took good care of her on the way from
+Buffalo, Mr. Grey," he said.
+
+"I tried to," said Tom.
+
+"Accept my thanks for your attentions. You are not very old for a
+protector," he added, with a smile, "but, from her account, you
+answered the purpose."
+
+"There wasn't much to do," said Tom, modestly. "I'd like to do it
+again."
+
+Bessie blushed a little, and laughed.
+
+"It seems the arrangement was mutually agreeable," said the old
+gentleman. "Are you going to stay long in Cincinnati, Mr. Grey?"
+
+"Yes, sir--I expect to."
+
+"Then you must come and see us often."
+
+"I should like to." Tom was on the point of adding, "tip-top," but
+stopped just in time.
+
+Here the bell rang for supper, and the party adjourned to the
+dining-room. There were seats for four. Bessie sat opposite her father,
+having on one side Maurice, on the other Tom. The latter, I am bound to
+say, felt a little embarrassed. He knew that the usages of the family
+he was visiting must be different from those to which he was
+accustomed, and he was afraid he might make some blunder. He resolved,
+therefore, to watch Maurice carefully, and do whatever he did. Eating
+with a fork, he thought odd, and not nearly as convenient as a knife.
+Still, he did it to avoid mistakes. Maurice watched him, hoping to
+detect him in blunders, but to no purpose. He was, perhaps, slightly
+awkward, but committed no breaches of etiquette.
+
+"This is Mr. Grey, Maurice," introduced Mr. Benton, at the commencement
+of the meal.
+
+"I have the honor of knowing Mr. Grey," said Maurice, stiffly.
+
+There was a slight emphasis on the word honor, which Mr. Benton did not
+notice.
+
+After supper Mr. Benton said:
+
+"I am obliged to go out on a little business, but you young people can
+amuse yourselves without me. Perhaps Mr. Grey would like to hear you
+play, Bessie."
+
+"Perhaps he plays himself?" suggested Maurice, with a sneer.
+
+"Do you?" asked Bessie.
+
+"I can play on a hand-organ," answered Tom.
+
+"Professionally?" inquired Maurice.
+
+"I never was in the business," said our hero. "Is it profitable?"
+
+"How should I know?" said Maurice, angrily.
+
+They adjourned to a pleasant sitting-room, where there was a piano, and
+Bessie took her place at the piano.
+
+"I am not much of a player," she said, "but will do my best."
+
+After a while she began to sing. Her voice was pleasant, but not
+remarkable.
+
+"I don't like singing alone," she said, at last.
+
+"Mr. Grey will sing with you," said Maurice, maliciously.
+
+"Will you?" pleaded Bessie, turning to our hero.
+
+"If you'll play that," said Tom, pointing to one of the popular songs
+of the day, which he had caught in the street.
+
+"Of course I will."
+
+I don't claim that Tom was a remarkable singer; but his voice was of
+good quality, and harmonized well with Bessie's. He sang correctly,
+also, and she was much pleased.
+
+"How well you sing, Gilbert," she said. "Can't you sing something
+else?"
+
+They sang two other popular songs, to the great dissatisfaction of
+Maurice, who saw himself quite eclipsed by the new arrival.
+
+"Isn't he splendid, Maurice?" asked Bessie, after Tom had taken leave.
+
+"He's a low fellow!" said Maurice.
+
+"I wish you were half as handsome and agreeable," said Bessie, warmly.
+
+Maurice went to bed in a very unhappy frame of mind. Tom, on the other
+hand, felt, as he returned to his unfashionable lodgings, that he had
+never before had so pleasant an evening.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+TOM GAINS A LITTLE INFORMATION.
+
+
+Though our hero was occupied considerably with thoughts of Bessie
+Benton, he did not lose sight of the two principal objects he had in
+visiting Cincinnati. One was, to ascertain the whereabouts of his
+uncle, the other, to obtain something to do. His cash was low, and he
+must find some employment.
+
+He consulted a copy of the city directory, which he found in the office
+of the hotel; but, though he found plenty of Greys, he found but one
+bearing the name of James Grey. This one was a carpenter, and, of
+course, could not be his uncle.
+
+"He must have left the city," thought Tom. "I wonder where his place of
+business was? I might find out something there."
+
+"Have you any old directories?" he asked, at the office.
+
+"How far back?"
+
+"Five or six years."
+
+"We have one of six years back."
+
+"Will you let me look at that?"
+
+The volume was found, after some difficulty, and put in Tom's hands. He
+turned at once to the g's, and, to his great joy, found the name of
+James Grey, merchant. His place of business was also given.
+
+"That's something," thought our hero. "I'll go there at once."
+
+There was no difficulty in finding the street and number, but there was
+a new name on the sign:
+
+    WILLIAM FERGUSON.
+
+Tom entered, and asked the first clerk he met if he could see Mr.
+Ferguson.
+
+"What's your business?" inquired the subordinate.
+
+"With Mr. Ferguson," answered Tom, promptly.
+
+"Wouldn't I do as well?"
+
+"How long have you been here?"
+
+"What do you want to know that for?"
+
+"If you've been here five years, I'll tell you."
+
+"I haven't."
+
+"Then I want to see Mr. Ferguson."
+
+"It strikes me you are a young man of some importance."
+
+"I am glad you have found it out," said our hero, coolly. "If you're
+not too much pressed by important business," (the clerk was leaning
+back, picking his teeth), "perhaps you wouldn't mind asking Mr.
+Ferguson if he will see a merchant from New York."
+
+The clerk laughed.
+
+"You're a hard nut to crack, young man," he said.
+
+"Don't try to crack me, then."
+
+The clerk went into the counting-room, and, returning quickly, told Tom
+he might go in.
+
+Entering, Tom found himself in the presence of a man of about forty.
+
+"Do you wish to see me?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, sir. I should like to ask if you know anything of Mr. Grey, who
+used to be in business in this place?"
+
+"I know a good deal of them--there were two."
+
+"I know that, sir, but one died."
+
+"Yes--it was John Grey."
+
+"My father."
+
+"Your father!" exclaimed the merchant, in astonishment.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"But I thought John Grey's son died?"
+
+"No, sir; that was a mistake. Can you tell me where my Uncle James
+lives? I don't find his name in the directory."
+
+"No; he moved away, after selling out the business to me. I was head
+salesman in the establishment under the brothers Grey. Now the business
+is mine."
+
+"And you don't know where my uncle went?"
+
+"He went to Minnesota, I think; but where, I cannot tell. I don't think
+it was to St. Paul, or to any large place."
+
+"How long ago was that, sir?"
+
+"About five years since. But I always supposed John Grey's son was
+lost. You have a strong family look, however."
+
+"Do I?" asked Tom. "I don't remember my father."
+
+"Where have you been all these years?"
+
+"I will tell you, sir," said Tom, "if you have time to hear the story.
+I didn't know who I was myself till a little while ago."
+
+"Proceed. I am busy, but I have time to listen. Take a seat."
+
+Tom told the story with which we are already familiar. Mr. Ferguson
+listened with strong intent. When it was finished, he said:
+
+"Young man, have you the confession of this Jacob with you?"
+
+Tom drew it from his inner pocket, and submitted it to inspection. He
+awaited the merchant's verdict.
+
+"I recognize Jacob's handwriting," he said, at length. "He was a
+fellow-clerk of mine. I remember, also, that he disappeared at the same
+time with you. The story is a strange one, but I am inclined to think
+it is true. What do you intend to do?"
+
+"I want to find my uncle."
+
+"I am afraid you will find that difficult. He has left no clew in this
+city where he once lived. He sold out all his property, and has no
+interest here."
+
+"You think he went to Minnesota?"
+
+"Yes; but I cannot tell where."
+
+"I will go to Minnesota, then," said our hero. "Is it far off?"
+
+"It is several hundred miles away, and a large place when you get
+there. It costs money to travel. Are you well supplied?"
+
+"I've got about fifteen dollars."
+
+"Fifteen dollars!" repeated the merchant. "And you expect to undertake
+such a task on that sum?"
+
+"I'd like to have more money; but what's the use of waitin'? I ain't
+gettin' richer."
+
+"Have you any situation? Are you earning any money?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Then I advise you to find something to do in the city, and postpone
+your plans of finding your uncle. You are just as likely to hear from
+him here, while at work, as if you were traveling in search of him,"
+said Mr. Ferguson.
+
+"I'd just as lief go to work," said Tom, "if I could find anything to
+do."
+
+Mr. Ferguson reflected a moment. Then he turned to our hero, and said:
+
+"I will think about your case. Come round to-morrow morning, about this
+time."
+
+"All right, sir."
+
+Tom left the counting-room, and was rather surprised to meet Maurice
+Walton on the main floor of the store.
+
+"What brings you here?" asked Maurice.
+
+"Business," said Tom.
+
+"Important?" sneered Maurice.
+
+"Very important," answered Tom, coolly.
+
+"I wish I knew more about him," thought Maurice. "There's some mystery
+about him. He's impudent enough for half a dozen."
+
+Some might have thought the impudence on the other side, but Maurice
+did not see it in that light.
+
+It occurred to Tom that he would call and see the man who advertised
+for a person "with a small capital to enter a light, genteel business."
+He found the place after awhile--a small back room, scantily furnished,
+with a few packages lying on a solitary counter. There was a man of
+about thirty-five in attendance, who seemed to have nothing particular
+to do.
+
+"Are you the one that advertised for a man with a small capital?" asked
+Tom.
+
+"To enter a light, genteel business?" continued the other, briskly.
+"Yes, I am the one."
+
+"Well, I've got a small capital, and that's just the kind of business I
+want."
+
+"You're rather young. Have you ever been in business?"
+
+"I should think I had. I've been in business for six or seven years."
+
+"You must have begun young. What kind of business?"
+
+"The boot and shoe business, mostly," answered our hero; "but I was in
+the periodical business for awhile."
+
+"Well, if you've got experience, you can succeed in our business. How
+much capital have you?"
+
+"Tell me about the business first."
+
+"Well, it's the perfumery business. We've got up a new and superior
+kind of perfumery, which we sell by agents. I want to find some one to
+take charge of the office while I travel and solicit orders. You can
+take care of the office, can't you?"
+
+"What's the wages?"
+
+"Twenty dollars a week."
+
+"That'll about suit me," said Tom.
+
+"You will receive the money from the agents and take care of it."
+
+"That suits me again."
+
+"But, of course, we expect you to deposit money with us as security."
+
+"How much do you want?"
+
+"Five hundred dollars."
+
+Our hero whistled.
+
+"That's ahead of my pile," he said.
+
+"How much have you got?"
+
+"Fifteen dollars; but I owe part of it for board."
+
+"Then get out of this office! Do you think I can afford to waste my
+time in talking to you?" said the young man, angrily.
+
+"You'd rather waste my money. You'll have to hook in some other chap,
+mister. I've been round."
+
+Of course it was only a trap to fleece the unsuspecting out of their
+money. Tom was posted, and only went in to have a little fun. He meant
+to wait and hear what Mr. Ferguson had to propose before forming any
+decisive plans for the future.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+AN ADVENTURE.
+
+The next morning, at the time appointed, Tom called at the
+establishment of Mr. Ferguson. The first he met was Maurice Walton.
+Maurice, in fact, was the youngest clerk, having received the
+appointment six weeks before, through the influence of his uncle.
+
+"Did you come round to see me? I'm busy," said Maurice.
+
+"Haven't you swept out yet?" asked Tom, mischievously.
+
+"Do you think I would demean myself by sweeping out?" returned Maurice,
+disgusted.
+
+"I thought that might be your business."
+
+"That would be good business for you. Perhaps Mr. Ferguson will engage
+you."
+
+"All right; I'll accept, if he'll pay me enough. Is he in?"
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Your boss."
+
+"I don't understand such low terms," said Maurice, loftily.
+
+"Then it's time you did. Is Mr. Ferguson in?--if you can understand
+that better."
+
+"Yes, he is, but he won't see you."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because his time is too valuable."
+
+"Then I wonder why he asked me to come round this morning?"
+
+"Did he?"
+
+"Of course he did; and, if you've got through sweeping out, you'd
+better let him know I'm on hand."
+
+"Go yourself."
+
+"Thank you for your polite invitation. They didn't examine you in good
+manners when they took you in here, did they?"
+
+"You're an impertinent fellow."
+
+"Thank you. You ought to be a good judge of impudence. I'll see you
+again soon--hope you won't miss me much."
+
+Our hero, who, it must be confessed, was not troubled by bashfulness,
+made a low bow to his opponent, and, advancing to the counting-room,
+opened the door. Mr. Ferguson looked up from his letters.
+
+"Take a seat, Grey," he said, "and I'll speak to you in a moment."
+
+"Thank you," said Tom, who knew how to be polite when it was proper to
+be so.
+
+At the end of fifteen minutes Mr. Ferguson looked up.
+
+"Well," said he, "have you formed any plans, Gilbert?--I think that is
+your name."
+
+"No, sir, except that I'm goin' to try to get a place."
+
+"Have you tried yet?"
+
+"I called to see a man who offered a light, genteel employment to a
+young man with a small capital. I thought mine was small enough, so I
+applied."
+
+"Well, what came of it?"
+
+"The man wasn't willin' to sell out for fifteen dollars, so I left."
+
+"You seem to be a smart boy. Suppose I take you into my employment?"
+
+"I'd try to do my duty."
+
+"I really don't need an extra clerk; but you are the son of my old
+employer, and to him I feel under considerable obligations. I'll take
+you on trial."
+
+"Thank you, sir. When shall I come?"
+
+"Next Monday."
+
+"All right, sir; I'll be on hand."
+
+"Where are you boarding?"
+
+"At the Ohio Hotel."
+
+"How much board do you pay?"
+
+"Ten dollars a week."
+
+"That is too much. You ought to get board in a private house for four.
+Between now and Monday, I advise you to look up some decent house that
+will answer your purpose. You can't expect to live luxuriously at
+first."
+
+"I ain't used to first-class accommodations," said Tom.
+
+"I see you are a sensible boy. Cut your coat according to your cloth.
+That is a good maxim. When you get older, you can live better. Now,
+about your salary. I can't give much at first, or my other clerks might
+complain. I will give you five dollars, the same that I pay to my
+youngest clerk."
+
+"Maurice Walton?"
+
+"Do you know him?" questioned Mr. Ferguson, in surprise.
+
+"Yes, sir. I took supper at his uncle's Wednesday evening."
+
+"Indeed! I did not know you were acquainted with Mr. Benton."
+
+"Bessie Benton came on from Buffalo in my charge."
+
+"Really, Gilbert, you seem to be getting on fast. You seem quite able
+to push your own way."
+
+"I've always done it, sir."
+
+"You are not bashful."
+
+"New York street-boys ain't troubled that way."
+
+"That's well, if not carried too far. Now, tell me how much you know."
+
+"If it's about learning, I can do that in five minutes."
+
+"Your education, I take it, has been neglected."
+
+"I don't know much--I didn't have a chance to learn."
+
+"Can you read?"
+
+"When the words ain't too long."
+
+"And write?"
+
+"Not much."
+
+"Then I advise you to take what leisure time you have to remedy the
+defects in your education."
+
+"I'd like to, sir. I was ashamed of knowing so little when I was at Mr.
+Benton's."
+
+"A good feeling, my boy. The more you know the better chance you stand
+to get on in the world. I am giving you a low place in my employment.
+If you want to be promoted, you must qualify yourself for it."
+
+"I'll do it, sir," said our hero, manfully. "That's good advice, and
+I'll foller it."
+
+"Success to you, my boy. You can now go, and come back Monday morning."
+
+"Thank you, sir."
+
+Tom left the counting-room in excellent spirits. He had found a place,
+and one just such as he liked. Five dollars a week, he foresaw, would
+not pay his expenses, but he was sure he could earn more in some way.
+As he was about to leave the store, Maurice, whose curiosity was
+aroused, came to meet him.
+
+"Did you get through your important business?" he said, sneeringly.
+
+"Not quite. I'm coming here again next Monday."
+
+"Mr. Ferguson must be glad to see you."
+
+"I'm comin' Tuesday, also."
+
+"What, every day?"
+
+"Yes; your boss has concluded to take me into the business."
+
+"You ain't coming here to work?" said Maurice, hastily.
+
+"You've hit the nail on the head."
+
+"We've got enough clerks now."
+
+"I'm comin' to help you sweep out in the mornin'."
+
+Maurice was by no means pleased to hear this. Regarding Tom as his
+social inferior, he did not like to be placed on a level with him.
+
+"How much pay are you to get?" he asked.
+
+"Five dollars a week."
+
+"The same as I get?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Maurice was disgusted.
+
+"Then I shall ask for higher pay."
+
+"Go ahead. I don't care."
+
+"Do you expect to live on your salary?"
+
+"No, of course not. I've got private property."
+
+"How much?"
+
+"Go and ask the man that calls for the taxes."
+
+"I don't believe it."
+
+"Why, I'm payin' ten dollars a week for my board."
+
+Finally our hero went out, leaving Maurice dissatisfied and
+annoyed--first that his rival, as he regarded him, had obtained a place
+in the same establishment with himself, and next that the new-comer was
+to receive the same salary. He sent in an application, the next day,
+for increase of pay, but it was dismissed, with the curt response that
+when he earned more he would get it.
+
+Meanwhile Tom bent his steps toward the Ohio river. Of course, my
+readers know that Cincinnati is on the north bank of the Ohio, and that
+just across is a town in Kentucky.
+
+"I'd like to see Kentucky," said Tom to himself. "I guess I'll go
+across."
+
+Small river steamers convey passengers across the river for a very
+small sum. Our hero paid the required fee and went on board.
+
+"It's some like goin' across to Jersey," he thought.
+
+There was the usual variety of passengers--men, women, and children.
+Tom sat down beside a young man well dressed, but a little strange in
+his manners. It was evident that he had been drinking too much, and was
+under the influence of liquor at present. He was perfectly quiet,
+however, till they were in the middle of the stream, when, all at once,
+he climbed the railing and threw himself into the turbid waters of the
+river.
+
+[Illustration: Tom, being an expert swimmer, jumped in after the man
+without hesitation.--Page 96.]
+
+The passengers seemed paralyzed by the suddenness of the action. Our
+hero was the first to recover, and, being an expert swimmer, jumped in
+after him without hesitation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+A FASHIONABLE BOARDING-HOUSE.
+
+When Tom's head emerged from the yellow and turbid waters, he caught
+sight of the young man, and struck out for him. Grasping him by the
+arm, he succeeded, with considerable difficulty, in holding him up till
+a small boat near by picked both up.
+
+"Whew!" sputtered Tom, spitting out some of the water which he had
+involuntarily taken into his mouth.
+
+The young man rescued looked about him stupidly.
+
+"What made you jump into the river?" asked the boatman.
+
+"I was drunk," said the young man, frankly, upon whom the shock of the
+falling into the water had produced a favorable effect.
+
+"It's lucky this boy was near and jumped after you, or you might have
+been drowned before I got to you."
+
+The young man turned and looked earnestly at Tom.
+
+"So you jumped after me?" he said.
+
+"I feel as if I did," answered Tom. "I'm as wet as a drowned rat."
+
+"You're a brave boy."
+
+"Thank you," said Tom, modestly. "But I can swim so well that it didn't
+take much courage."
+
+"I can't swim a stroke."
+
+"Then you'd better not jump into the water again."
+
+"I don't mean to," said the young man, smiling. "Where did you learn to
+swim?"
+
+"In the East river."
+
+"Where's that?"
+
+"New York."
+
+"Look here, gentlemen, where do you want to be carried?" asked the
+boatman.
+
+"Back to Cincinnati. I'll pay you for your trouble," said the young
+man.
+
+"I was goin' on an explorin' expedition to Kentucky," said our hero.
+
+"You are too wet; you must take another day."
+
+"It ain't any wetter on one side of the river than the other."
+
+"Do you live in Kentucky?"
+
+"No."
+
+"In Cincinnati?"
+
+"Yes; I've lived there a day or two."
+
+"You must change your clothes, or you will get cold."
+
+"I haven't got any clothes except what I've got on."
+
+The young man looked rather surprised at this, since Tom had on a good
+suit, and appeared to be in good circumstances.
+
+"Then," said he, promptly, "I shall take you home with me, and lend you
+one of my suits."
+
+"It would fit me too much," said Tom, laughing.
+
+"Never mind. We will stay in the house till your clothes are dry. What
+do you say?"
+
+"All right," said Tom. "I'm agreeable."
+
+When they came to the Ohio side of the river the two got off. The young
+man was so well over his fit of drunkenness that he walked quite
+steadily, showing no trace of it in his gait.
+
+"I live a mile and a half away," he said, "but it will be better to
+walk, as we shall be less liable to take cold in our wet clothes. Or,
+do you feel tired?"
+
+"Not a bit," said Tom. "I'm used to walkin'. My coachman don't have
+much to do."
+
+"You're a genius," said the young man.
+
+"I'm glad to hear it," said Tom. "If I'm a fair specimen, geniuses
+don't know much."
+
+"At any rate, you are not such a fool as I am."
+
+"Are you a fool?"
+
+"Any man is a fool that gets drunk."
+
+"I don't know but you're right," said Tom. "What makes you do it?"
+
+"Because I'm a fool. That's all the reason I can give. I'm too weak to
+resist temptation."
+
+"I never was drunk but once," said Tom. "I don't want to be again."
+
+"How did that happen?"
+
+"A sailor invited me into a bar-room, and got me to drink. I felt as if
+my head would burst open the next morning."
+
+"So you didn't get drunk again?"
+
+"No, I got enough of it."
+
+"What is your name?" asked the young man, interested.
+
+"Gilbert Grey."
+
+"Do you live in this city?"
+
+"I'm goin' to."
+
+"I wish you would come and live with me."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"Because, though you are younger, you know how to take care of
+yourself. I think you would take care of me, too."
+
+"If you pay me good wages," said Tom, "I'm willin' to be your
+guardian."
+
+"I am in earnest," said the young man. "It would do me good to have
+some one help me keep straight."
+
+"How many times a week would you want me to jump into the water after
+you?" asked our hero, jocularly. "Because I'd want to keep a good stock
+of dry clothes on hand; or maybe I might wear a bathin' suit all the
+time."
+
+"I sha'n't try that again," said the other, smiling; "I don't like it
+well enough."
+
+By this time they reached a handsome brick house, in a fine street.
+
+"This is where I board," said the young man. "Come in."
+
+He rang the bell, and a servant answered the summons. She looked
+surprised at the appearance of the pair, both showing signs of the
+wetting they had received.
+
+"We met with an accident, Bridget," explained the young man, "or rather
+I tumbled into the water and this boy jumped after me."
+
+"Faith you look like it, Mr. Mordaunt," said Bridget. "Will I tell Mrs.
+White?"
+
+"Yes. Ask her if she can send us up some hot coffee in about twenty
+minutes. I am afraid, if we don't have some hot drink, we will take
+cold."
+
+"All right, sir."
+
+A hasty glance satisfied Tom that it was a first-class boarding-house.
+The hall was handsomely furnished, and when, on reaching the head of
+the stairs, his companion led the way into a spacious room, with a
+chamber connecting, our young hero saw a rich carpet, elegant
+furniture, a handsome collection of books, and some tasteful pictures
+upon the walls. It was evident that Mr. Mordaunt was possessed of ample
+means.
+
+"Now--by the way, I've forgotten your name, yet----"
+
+"Gilbert Grey. Some call me Tom, for short."
+
+"Now, Gilbert, make yourself at home. The best thing we can do is to
+strip at once, and put on dry clothes."
+
+He went to a wardrobe and brought out two suits of clothes, also a
+supply of under-clothing.
+
+"There," said he, "go ahead and change your clothes."
+
+Tom followed directions obediently, while his companion was similarly
+employed. Of course, it was necessary to wash, also. The clothes were
+too large for him, but still not much, as he was a well-grown boy, and
+Mr. Mordaunt was by no means large.
+
+"How do you like the looks?" asked the young man, as Tom surveyed
+himself in a handsome mirror.
+
+"I expect it's me, but I ain't certain," said Tom. "It'll take me some
+time to grow to these clothes."
+
+"They are rather big, that's a fact," said the young man, smiling.
+"When the servant comes up with the coffee, we'll send down our suits
+to be dried. Will your friends feel anxious about you?"
+
+"There's one will, I expect," said Tom.
+
+"Who is that--your mother?"
+
+"No; it's my intimate friend, Maurice Walton. He can't bear me out of
+his sight, or in it, either."
+
+Mordaunt laughed.
+
+"So he's very devoted, is he?"
+
+"You bet he is."
+
+Here there was a knock at the door.
+
+"Come in," called Mordaunt.
+
+Bridget entered with a waiter, on which were a coffee-pot, some cups
+and saucers, sugar, etc., beside a plate of sandwiches.
+
+"Thank you, Bridget," said Mordaunt. "I see you understood what was
+wanted. Now, if you'll take down them wet clothes and dry them for us,
+we will be much obliged."
+
+"I'll do it, Mr. Mordaunt," said the willing handmaiden.
+
+"Now, Gilbert, sit down, and we'll have a good cup of coffee apiece,"
+said Mordaunt. "You're hungry, are you not?"
+
+"Bathin' in such a big tub gave me an appetite," said Tom; "but I
+wouldn't like to get up an appetite that way every day."
+
+"Nor I. It's too much trouble, not to speak of the danger. How do you
+find the coffee?"
+
+"Tip-top."
+
+"It's a good deal better than wine, eh?"
+
+"That's so."
+
+"Now, Gilbert, while we are taking lunch I have a little plan to
+propose to you."
+
+"All right. I'm ready."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+TOM CHANGES HIS BOARDING-HOUSE.
+
+"Where are you boarding?" Mordaunt began.
+
+"At the Ohio Hotel. But I don't mean to stay. I'm lookin' out some
+first-class boardin'-house, where they don't charge mor'n five dollars
+a week."
+
+"You haven't found one yet?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Come here and room with me."
+
+"Don't you pay but five dollars?"
+
+"Rather more," said Mordaunt, laughing.
+
+"I only get five dollars a week for my valuable services," said Tom. "I
+pay that for board, and get my clothes with the balance. If I hadn't a
+fortune of ten dollars to fall back upon, I'd have to go without."
+
+"Is that really the way you are situated?" asked Mordaunt, seriously.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then," said the young man, "come and board with me, and it sha'n't
+cost you a cent. I'll have another bed put into the bedroom, and we'll
+make ourselves as comfortable as we can."
+
+"Do you mean it?" asked Tom, incredulously.
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"And you'll pay my board for the sake of my agreeable society?"
+
+"Just so," answered his companion.
+
+"Then you're a tip-top feller, and I won't refuse such a good offer."
+
+"Good! That's settled, then," said the young man, with satisfaction.
+"Now I'll tell you my reasons for making you such an offer. I am an
+orphan, and with no near relations, except an uncle in Canada, with
+whose family I am little acquainted. I inherited from my father, who
+died just as I reached the age of twenty-one, a fortune of one hundred
+thousand dollars."
+
+"Whew!" said our hero; "that's a big pile of money."
+
+"It was too large for me. It took away my ambition and energy; and
+though for two years I have been in a law office, pretending to study
+law, I have wasted my time in drinking among unworthy companions. The
+fact is, I am of a sociable disposition, and I found my room lonely.
+Now I want to turn over a new leaf, give up drinking, and devote myself
+more to study."
+
+"I want to study, too," said Tom. "I'm as ignorant as a horse. I'll
+have to study some evenings."
+
+"I'll teach you," said Mordaunt. "We'll spend our evenings that way,
+instead of in bar-rooms."
+
+"All right," said our hero. "That suits me. But I ought not to let you
+pay my board."
+
+"I can well afford it. My money is securely invested, and brings me in
+six thousand dollars a year clear."
+
+"I shall have to work from now till I'm a gray-haired old patriarch
+before I earn six thousand dollars," said Tom, comically.
+
+Mordaunt laughed.
+
+"I hope it isn't so bad as that," he said. "Well, do you agree?"
+
+"To come here as your guardian?"
+
+"Yes, if you put it in that way."
+
+"You are very kind to me," said our hero, changing his tone and
+speaking earnestly. "I am a poor boy, and don't know much. I'm afraid
+you'll be ashamed of introducing me to your friends."
+
+"Friends! I have no friends that care for me. They care for my money,
+and are jolly enough; but, if I needed help, they wouldn't give it. I
+don't know why it is, but I like you. You saved my life this morning,
+and I would rather have you live with me than any one I know. So, when
+your clothes are dry, go round to the hotel, and bring your trunk
+here."
+
+"I haven't got any trunk," said Tom. "I wouldn't have any use for one.
+I've got a carpet-bag."
+
+"Very well. Bring that. Now you must do me a favor."
+
+"All right. Only if it's to lend you a hundred dollar bill, I'm afraid
+I couldn't do it."
+
+"I hope some time you will be rich enough to grant such favor; but that
+isn't the favor I meant."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"You must let me buy you some more clothes."
+
+Tom was about to object, but Mordaunt continued:
+
+"Remember, I've got more money than I know what to do with. I owe you
+something for the wetting I exposed you to."
+
+"I won't resist very hard," said Tom. "I s'pose you want your guardian
+to look respectable."
+
+Later in the day, when their clothes were dry, Mordaunt took Tom to a
+fashionable clothing store, and bought him two suits of clothes, of
+handsome cloth and stylish cut, and, in addition, purchased him a
+sufficient stock of under-clothing. He also ordered a trunk to be sent
+up to the room. Then, it being time, they went home to supper. Mordaunt
+had already spoken to Mrs. White about receiving our hero as a boarder.
+Of course she was very ready to do so.
+
+Tom felt, at first, a little embarrassed, but this feeling soon wore
+away. He was not a guest, but a boarder, and was addressed by the
+landlady and the boarders as Mr. Grey. He came near laughing the first
+time he was called by this name, but soon got used to it.
+
+It was a first-class boarding-house. There were some dozen boarders,
+all of ample means. As Tom looked around him, and remembered that only
+a short time previous he had been a New York street-boy and bootblack,
+he could hardly believe that the change was permanent.
+
+"What would they think if they knowed what I was?" he thought.
+
+Next to him at table sat an elderly young lady, who was not in the
+habit of receiving attentions from gentlemen of marriageable age, and
+was therefore inclined to notice those more youthful.
+
+"Do you like the opera, Mr. Grey?" she asked.
+
+"Do you?" asked Tom, who had never heard an opera in his life.
+
+New York bootblacks seldom attend such classic entertainments. They
+prefer the old Bowery entertainments.
+
+"I dote upon it," said Miss Green, enthusiastically.
+
+"So do I," said Tom, much to Mordaunt's amusement.
+
+"What is your favorite opera?" asked Miss Green.
+
+"I haven't got any favorite," said Tom, who thought this the best
+answer, as he did not know the name of any.
+
+"I think Trovatore splendid."
+
+"It's tip-top."
+
+"That's a gentleman's word," said Miss Green, laughing. "I am glad you
+agree with me. Do you sing yourself?"
+
+"A little," said Tom. "Shall I come and sing under your window
+to-night?"
+
+There was a general laugh at this offer.
+
+"Oh, do!" said Miss Green. "Do you often serenade ladies?"
+
+"I used to, but I had to give it up."
+
+"Why, Mr. Grey?"
+
+"Because it was taken for a cat-concert, and people used to throw
+bottles at me. I couldn't stand that."
+
+"I'll promise not to throw any bottles at you, Mr. Grey."
+
+"I'll let you know when I'm comin'," said Tom. "My voice ain't in order
+just at present. When it is, I'll do my best to keep you awake."
+
+"Really, Gilbert," said Mordaunt, when they had left the table, and
+returned to their room, "you got up quite a flirtation with Miss Green.
+It will be a good match for you. She's got money, and isn't more than
+twice as old as you are."
+
+"But when I got to be fifty she'd be a hundred," said Tom. "I guess
+I'll leave her for you."
+
+"She has tried her fascinations on me already," said Mordaunt; "but she
+soon concluded there wasn't any chance, and gave it up. She'll be
+wanting you to take her to the opera, as you dote upon it so much."
+
+"The only opera house I ever went to was in the Bowery."
+
+"That's what I thought. Now, how shall we spend the evening?"
+
+"Suppose we take a walk, and then come and study."
+
+"A good plan. What would you like to study?"
+
+"I can't read or write very well. I don't know much."
+
+"We will stop at a bookstore on our way and buy such books as you want.
+Then I'll give you lessons."
+
+While walking, a flashily-dressed young man recognizing Mordaunt,
+stepped up and slapped him on the shoulder.
+
+"Come and play a game of billiards, Mordaunt," he said.
+
+"I can't, Dacres. I've got an engagement with my friend here."
+
+"Sorry for it. Won't he come, too?"
+
+"No; he's young. I don't care to take him among such wild fellows as
+you."
+
+"The last time I played billiards with Dacres he won a hundred dollars
+of me," said Mordaunt, as they passed on. "It might have been so
+to-night; but, now I have your company, I am safe."
+
+On reaching home Tom spent an hour and a half in study, Mordaunt
+assisting him. The young man became interested in his task, and went to
+bed much better satisfied with himself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+MAURICE IS ASTONISHED.
+
+
+Maurice Walton felt very much annoyed at the prospect of having Tom for
+a fellow-clerk. He felt jealous of him on account of the evident
+partiality of Bessie Benton for his society. He suspected, from Tom's
+style of talking, that he was "low and uneducated," and he would have
+given considerable to know that his hated rival had been a New York
+bootblack. But this knowledge he could not obtain from Tom. The latter
+delighted in mystifying him, and exciting suspicions which he afterward
+learned to be groundless.
+
+Bright and early Tom made his appearance in front of Mr. Ferguson's
+establishment. As he came up one way, he met Maurice, looking sleepy
+and cross, coming from a different direction.
+
+"Good-morning, Maurice," said our hero, good-naturedly. "Have you just
+got out of bed?"
+
+"No," answered Maurice, crossly. "My name is Walton."
+
+"How are you, Walton?"
+
+"Mr. Walton, if you please," said Maurice, with dignity.
+
+"Don't we feel big this morning, _Mr._ Walton?" said Tom,
+mischievously.
+
+"Do you mean to insult me?"
+
+"Wouldn't think of such a thing, Mr. Walton. My name is _Mr._ Grey."
+
+Maurice didn't think proper to answer this remark--perhaps because he
+had nothing in particular to say. He opened the warehouse, and Tom
+entered.
+
+"I don't know what made Mr. Ferguson take you," he said, amiably.
+
+"Nor I," said Tom; "particularly as he had your valuable services."
+
+"Very likely he took you out of charity," said Maurice.
+
+"Did he take you out of charity?" asked Tom, innocently--"Mr. Walton?"
+
+"How dare you speak of me in that way?" demanded Maurice, haughtily.
+
+"It didn't take much courage," said Tom, coolly. "How dared you speak
+of me in that way?"
+
+"That's different."
+
+"Why is it?"
+
+"You haven't got much money--you're almost a beggar."
+
+"Where did you find out all that?"
+
+"Anybody can tell by just looking at you."
+
+"That's the way, then? Have you got much money?"
+
+"My uncle has."
+
+"So has my uncle."
+
+"I don't believe it."
+
+"That don't alter the fact."
+
+"How much is he worth?"
+
+"Over a hundred thousand dollars--I don't know how much more."
+
+"Where does he live."
+
+"He used to live in this city, but he's gone farther West."
+
+Maurice was not decided whether to believe this statement or not. He
+wanted to disbelieve it, but was afraid it might be true. He tried a
+different tack.
+
+"Where do you board? Are you at the Ohio Hotel? I hear it's a low
+place--third-class."
+
+"You're about right. It isn't first-class."
+
+"I suppose you had to go there because it was cheap?"
+
+"It was the first hotel I came across. But I'm not there now--I've
+moved."
+
+"Have you? Where are you now?"
+
+"No. 12 Crescent Place."
+
+Now Maurice knew that Crescent Place was in a fashionable quarter of
+the city. It astonished him that our hero, whose salary was but five
+dollars a week, should live in such a neighborhood.
+
+"Twelve Crescent Place?" he repeated. "How much board do you pay?"
+
+"That's a secret between me and the landlady," said Tom. "If you'll
+come round and see me this evening, you can judge for yourself."
+
+Having a strong curiosity about Tom's circumstances, Maurice accepted
+the invitation.
+
+"Perhaps there are two Crescent Places," he thought. "I don't believe
+he can afford to live in a fashionable boarding-house."
+
+"Mr. Mordaunt," said Tom, when they were getting ready for supper,
+"I've invited a friend to call this evening."
+
+"That's right. I shall be glad to see him."
+
+"It's that boy that loves me so much, Maurice Walton. He's awfully
+jealous of me--tries to snub me all the time."
+
+"Then why did you invite such a fellow to call?"
+
+"Because he thinks I live in a poor place, and it will make him mad to
+find me in such a nice room."
+
+"I see," said Mordaunt, laughing. "It isn't as a friend you invite
+him."
+
+"I'm as much his friend as he is mine."
+
+"What makes him dislike you."
+
+"I don't know, except because Bessie Benton is polite to me, and seems
+to like my company."
+
+Mordaunt laughed.
+
+"That explains it fully," he said. "So you are rivals for the young
+lady's hand?"
+
+"Not quite. I ain't quite ready to be married yet. I'll wait awhile.
+But Bessie's a tip-top girl."
+
+"You must introduce me some time."
+
+"All right. I'll try and get an invitation for you to call with me."
+
+About eight o'clock Maurice reached Crescent Place, and, scanning the
+numbers, found No. 12.
+
+"He can't live in such a house," thought he. "It's ridiculous."
+
+Still, he rang the bell, and, when the servant appeared, he asked,
+rather hesitatingly:
+
+"Does Gilbert Grey live here?"
+
+"Yes, sir," said the servant. "Will you go up to his room?"
+
+"I don't know where his room is. Will you ask him to come down?"
+
+"There is somebody to see you, Mr. Grey," said the servant, after
+mounting the stairs.
+
+"He's come," said our hero, in a low voice, to Mordaunt. "I'll go down
+and bring him up."
+
+Tom descended the stairs and welcomed Maurice.
+
+"I'm glad you're come, Mr. Walton," he said. "Come up stairs to my
+room."
+
+Finding that he did, after all, live in this handsome house, Maurice
+expected that it was on the upper floor, and was surprised when Tom led
+the way into a handsome parlor on the second floor.
+
+"My roommate, Mr. Mordaunt, Mr. Walton," said Tom, introducing the
+visitor.
+
+"I am glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Walton," said Mordaunt. "Take
+a seat," and he indicated a luxurious armchair.
+
+Maurice sank into its depths, and looked around him with wonder. How in
+the world could a fellow like Tom, earning a salary of five dollars a
+week, afford to board so luxuriously? Why, it quite eclipsed even his
+uncle's rooms. Handsome pictures, books, statuary, and choice
+furniture, under the brilliant blaze of an argand burner, made a
+beautiful apartment.
+
+"You've got a nice room," he could not help saying.
+
+"Won't you look at the bedroom?" said Mordaunt, politely.
+
+Maurice looked in, and found it in proportion to the parlor.
+
+"Gilbert and I manage to make ourselves comfortable," said Mordaunt.
+"We enjoy it ourselves, and are glad to have a pleasant place to invite
+our friends to."
+
+Maurice was astonished; but such is the influence of wealth, or
+apparent wealth, upon a disposition like his, that he thawed, and made
+up his mind that he had better change his manner toward one who was
+able to afford living in such a style.
+
+"He must have money," he thought. "Perhaps it's his rich uncle. I
+thought he was lying, but I guess it's true, after all."
+
+Tom saw the change in his manner, and it amused him.
+
+"He thinks I'm somebody, after all," he said to himself. "What would he
+say if he knowed what I used to be?--how I went round the streets of
+New York calling out: 'Shine yer boots!' and was glad if I could earn a
+dollar a day that way? I don't believe Mordaunt would mind. I'm going
+to tell him some time, and see."
+
+"Do you ever play checkers, Mr. Walton?" asked Mordaunt.
+
+"Sometimes."
+
+"Then suppose we try a game, or perhaps you will play with him,
+Gilbert?"
+
+"I'd rather look on," said Tom. "I don't know how to play, but maybe
+I'll learn lookin' at you."
+
+"Very well."
+
+Two games were played, and then a waiter appeared from a neighboring
+restaurant with some cake and ice-cream, of which Maurice partook with
+evident enjoyment. His ideas with regard to our hero were quite
+revolutionized. He was a good fellow, after all. So when he took leave,
+at the close of the evening, he readily promised to come again, and did
+not forget to do so.
+
+"He'll take more notice of me now," said Tom, laughing. "He'll think
+I'm somebody."
+
+"It's the way of the world, Gilbert," said Mordaunt. "We must take it
+as it comes."
+
+"Maybe," said Tom, looking at his companion earnestly, "you wouldn't
+like to have me room with you if you knew what I used to be."
+
+"What did you used to be?" asked Mordaunt, not without curiosity.
+
+"A New York bootblack."
+
+"Is it possible?"
+
+"Don't you want me to go?"
+
+"No, Gilbert; my friendship is too strong for that. But I want to hear
+about your former life. Sit down and tell me all about it."
+
+Mordaunt listened with interest and surprise to the story of his
+roommate.
+
+"It seems," he said, in conclusion, "that there is a fortune somewhere
+to which you are entitled."
+
+"Yes," said our hero, "but my uncle will take pretty good care that I
+don't get it."
+
+"From your description he doesn't seem to be a credit to the family.
+What are you going to do about it? Have you any plan?"
+
+"Mr. Ferguson advises me to stay here for the present. He says I am as
+likely to hear of my uncle, if I stay in Cincinnati, as if I travel
+round the country after him."
+
+"I presume he is right. As your uncle was formerly in business here, he
+is likely to come here some time on a visit. If he does, he will be
+likely to call at your establishment. The best thing you can do is to
+attend to your business, learn as much as possible, and keep your eyes
+open."
+
+"I guess you're right," said Tom. "I ain't very old yet. I'll try to
+learn something, so that, when I come into my fortune, I can appear
+like a gentleman."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+THE SCARRED FACE.
+
+We are now about to pass over a space of three years, partly because no
+incidents of importance marked their passage, though they wrought an
+important change in our hero. We leave him an uneducated boy of
+fifteen. We meet him again a youth qualified to appear to advantage in
+any society. Of course, this change was not wrought without persistent
+effort. Tom was, as we know, an unusually smart boy, with a quick wit,
+and an aptness to learn. But talent avails little unless cultivated.
+Our hero, however, kept up his habit of evening study, at first under
+Mordaunt's instruction. The latter was amazed at the progress of his
+pupil. He seemed to fly along the path of knowledge, and to master
+difficulties almost by intuition. At the end of a year he was as good
+an English scholar as most boys of his age. But this did not satisfy
+him. He induced Mordaunt to join him in securing the services of a
+native French teacher, and was speedily able to read the language with
+ease, and to speak it a little. He also found it for his interest to
+learn something of German, on account of the number of German customers
+which Mr. Ferguson had. To these solid acquirements he added a couple
+of quarters at a fashionable dancing-school, and the result of all was,
+that he not only became a good scholar, but was able to appear to
+advantage in the social gatherings to which Mordaunt and himself were
+frequently invited.
+
+Maurice Walton was no longer able to laugh at his rusticity, but, on
+the other hand, was forced to admit to himself, with a twinge of
+jealousy, that the rough, uncultured boy of former days had wholly
+eclipsed him in every desirable accomplishment, as well as in the solid
+branches. For Maurice spent his evenings in quite a different way from
+our hero--at the billiard-saloon or bar-room, or in wandering about the
+streets without object. The result was that Mr. Ferguson, detecting the
+difference between the two clerks, and recognizing the superior value
+of Gilbert, for he has now laid aside his street-name of Tom, promoted
+him much more rapidly than Maurice. The latter received but ten dollars
+a week, after three years' service, while our hero had been advanced to
+twenty. This was naturally felt by Maurice as a bitter grievance, and
+he sometimes complained of it to Gilbert himself.
+
+"Ferguson treats me meanly," he said, just after the last rise of
+Gilbert.
+
+"How is that, Maurice?"
+
+"He won't raise my salary. He is only going to give me ten dollars a
+week, the same as last year. How much is he going to give you?"
+
+"Twenty."
+
+"Just twice as much!" exclaimed Maurice, angrily. "He has no business
+to make any difference between us."
+
+"I wish he would give you twenty dollars, too," said Gilbert.
+
+"Do you?" asked Maurice, suspiciously.
+
+"Certainly. I am none the better off for your getting small pay."
+
+"If you really feel so, suppose you ask him to give me more."
+
+Gilbert hesitated.
+
+"I am afraid he would think I was interfering in his affairs."
+
+"Just as I thought. You were not in earnest in what you said. You like
+to triumph over me because I came here the same time you did, and only
+get half as much."
+
+Maurice spoke in a bitter tone, which might partly be excused by his
+mortification and disappointment.
+
+"You are quite mistaken, Maurice," said Gilbert.
+
+"I will believe that when you go to Mr. Ferguson and ask him to raise
+my salary."
+
+Gilbert reflected a moment, and then said, suddenly:
+
+"I'll do it."
+
+"You will?" asked Maurice, surprised.
+
+"Yes. He may be angry with me, but I'll risk it. Only if he refuses,
+you won't blame me?"
+
+"No, I won't. You're such a favorite with him that he may do it for
+you. When will you go?"
+
+"Now."
+
+Mr. Ferguson was sitting alone in his counting-room when Gilbert
+entered.
+
+"May I speak with you a moment, Mr. Ferguson?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, Gilbert. What is it?"
+
+"I hope you will excuse me for interfering in what is none of my
+business, but I promised Maurice I would speak to you."
+
+"Oh, it's on Maurice's business, is it?" said the merchant.
+
+"Yes, sir. He is very much disturbed because you have raised my salary,
+and have not raised his. I get twenty dollars a week, and he only ten."
+
+"He thinks it unjust, does he?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Will you ask him to step into the office, and come back here
+yourself?"
+
+The two clerks were speedily in the presence of their employer.
+
+"So you think you ought to have a higher salary, Walton?" began Mr.
+Ferguson.
+
+"I don't think Grey earns twice as much as I do, sir."
+
+"Perhaps you think he does not earn any more."
+
+"I don't see why he does."
+
+"Then I will tell you. You have both been with me about the same length
+of time, you a little longer, I think, but length of service does not
+always enhance the value of service. Grey has devoted his evenings to
+study. He has acquired such a knowledge of German in particular that he
+can wait upon German customers. He has mastered all the details of the
+business, which you have not done. You are often late, often
+inattentive, and are no better clerk now than you were a year ago. That
+is the reason I am willing to give Gilbert higher pay than you. If you
+wish to fare as well as he has done, pursue the same course."
+
+"I don't feel like studying in the evening; I am too tired," said
+Maurice, sullenly.
+
+"Do as you please about that; but there is still another way in which,
+without any more time, you can make yourself more valuable, and merit
+increase of pay."
+
+"How is that, sir?"
+
+"Always be on the alert while you are here in the store. Then, in place
+of an indifferent salesman, you may become a good one--such as I should
+be very sorry to lose. At present, I confess I should not feel it to be
+a great loss if you withdrew to another establishment."
+
+Maurice listened sullenly. It chafed his pride to be thus addressed by
+his employer, in presence of Gilbert.
+
+As they went back to their duty, our hero said:
+
+"I did the best I could for you, Maurice. You can't blame me."
+
+"No, but I blame him. He has no business to be so partial to you. All
+the difference between us is, that you can jabber Dutch a little. That
+isn't worth ten dollars a week extra. He's down on me for something or
+other; I don't know why."
+
+"I don't make any comparison between us, Maurice," said Gilbert. "I am
+perfectly willing you should get as high pay as I do."
+
+"You are very kind," said Maurice, sarcastically.
+
+"Now, don't get mad with a fellow," said Gilbert, good humoredly. "I
+can't help it."
+
+But Maurice was sullen all day, and for some days subsequently. He
+insisted on regarding Gilbert as a successful rival, and would have
+injured him if he could.
+
+It was about this time that our hero had his thoughts suddenly recalled
+to the uncle who had defrauded him of his birthright. Walking in Vine
+street one morning, he suddenly came face to face with the man whose
+boots he had brushed, more than three years before, on the steps of the
+Astor House. He knew him at once by the _peculiar scar upon his right
+cheek_, of which he had taken particular notice when they first met.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+UNCLE AND NEPHEW.
+
+Our hero stopped short, and, being directly in the path of his uncle,
+the latter was compelled to stop, too.
+
+"Mr. Grey," said Gilbert.
+
+"That's my name," said the other, who had not yet taken particular
+notice of the youth who addressed him. But, as he spoke, he looked at
+him, and instantly recognized him. Gilbert could see that he did by his
+sudden start, and expression of surprise and annoyance. He couldn't
+understand how the New York bootblack had been metamorphosed into the
+well-dressed and gentlemanly-looking young clerk. He regretted so soon
+acknowledging his name, and marveled how Gilbert could have learned it.
+
+"What business have you with me, young man?" he continued, formally.
+
+"I have wanted to meet you for a long time," said Gilbert.
+
+"Indeed!" said his uncle, with a sneer. "I am rather surprised to hear
+this, not having, to my knowledge, ever had the honor of seeing you
+before."
+
+"I am your nephew," said Gilbert, bluntly.
+
+"Then he knows," said Mr. Grey to himself, rather disturbed.
+
+"I confess," he said, in the same sarcastic tone, "I am slightly
+disturbed at being claimed as a near relative by a stranger whom I
+happen to encounter in the street. May I ask how you happen to be my
+nephew?"
+
+"I am the son of your older brother, John," said Gilbert.
+
+"That can hardly be, young man. My brother had but one son, and he
+died."
+
+"Disappeared, you mean," said Gilbert, significantly.
+
+"There is no doubt that he died," said Mr. Grey, positively.
+
+"Then he has come to life again, for I am he."
+
+"You are an impudent impostor," said Mr. Grey, hotly; "but you have
+missed your mark. I am not so easily humbugged. I denounce you and your
+pretensions as alike false. Let me pass."
+
+As he said this he attempted to pass Gilbert, but our hero had no
+intention of losing sight of his uncle.
+
+"Of course you can pass," he said; "but I shall follow you."
+
+"You will?" demanded his uncle, shaking his cane angrily. "Then I will
+put you in the hands of the police."
+
+"I don't think you will," said Gilbert, with perfect composure.
+
+"Why not? What is to hinder me, I should like to know?"
+
+"It wouldn't be good policy for you to do it."
+
+"Why not, you impudent young rascal?"
+
+"Because I should let the relationship be known."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"And why is it that you deny it?"
+
+"Well," said Mr. Grey, his attention caught, "why do I deny it?"
+
+"Because you are in possession of my father's property, which, of
+right, belongs to me!" said Gilbert, firmly, looking his uncle in the
+eyes. "It is your interest to deny the relationship."
+
+James Grey saw that his long injustice had come home to him at last.
+How could this stripling have learned what he had taken such pains to
+conceal? What was he to do? Was he to admit the boy's claims, and
+surrender the estate? He could not make up his mind to do it. He must
+stave off the attack, if he could.
+
+"This is a ridiculous story," he said. "Somebody has been making a fool
+of you."
+
+"Didn't you have an older brother, named John?"
+
+"Yes," Mr. Grey admitted, unwillingly.
+
+"Did he not have a son?"
+
+"Yes; but, as I told you, he died."
+
+"He only disappeared. He was carried away, for what object, you can
+tell."
+
+"You are dealing in mysteries. I don't know what you are talking
+about." Mr. Grey said this, but his troubled look showed that he did
+not feel as unconcerned as he pretended.
+
+Gilbert continued:
+
+"The man who carried me off was a clerk in your employ. His name was
+Jacob Morton."
+
+"So he took you to Australia, did he? That's a likely story."
+
+"Yes. He was supplied with money by you for the purpose. But he did not
+like Australia. After awhile he returned to New York, and there I was
+brought up in the streets, suffering every privation, while you were
+enjoying the property my father left."
+
+"Well, have you got anything more to say? The tale does great credit to
+your invention."
+
+"Three years ago--a little more, perhaps--I saw you in New York. I
+brushed your boots on the steps of the Astor House."
+
+"Better and better. I am expected to recognize a New York bootblack as
+my nephew!"
+
+"It was your fault that I was reduced to be a bootblack."
+
+"How happens it that you are not in the same line of business now?
+Perhaps you are."
+
+"Jacob died and left me a few dollars, with which I came out West.
+Before he died he gave me a written paper, in which he revealed all the
+plot into which he entered with you."
+
+"He gave you a paper, did he?"
+
+"Yes. From it I learned that I was born in Cincinnati, and I expected
+to find you here. But I looked in vain. After awhile I found my
+father's place of business. I introduced myself to Mr. Ferguson, and he
+gave me a place in his employ."
+
+"On the strength of your ridiculous story, I suppose?"
+
+"Because he believed me to be the son of his old employer, John Grey."
+
+"I thought Ferguson had more sense than to be duped by such a designing
+young rascal."
+
+"He tells me that I bear a strong resemblance to my father. Look in my
+face, Uncle James, and tell me whether it is not true."
+
+Almost involuntarily James Grey fixed his eyes on the frank, handsome
+face of his nephew, as he stood intrepidly before him, and he was
+forced, however reluctantly, to admit to himself that the resemblance
+was indeed very striking.
+
+The case was getting more serious than he had expected. Gilbert had
+already been recognized as the missing son of John Grey, and that by a
+man whose testimony would carry great weight. Old Jacob had testified
+not only to his identity, but to the wrongful compact by which Gilbert
+had been spirited away to suit his uncle's rapacity. Were this publicly
+known, his reputation would be destroyed, and he would be deprived of
+the wealth which he had labored so dishonestly to acquire. Evidently
+the claim was not to be disposed of so easily as he had at first
+supposed.
+
+"What do you call yourself?" he asked.
+
+"Gilbert Grey."
+
+"Of course you would take the name of the boy you pretend to be."
+
+"Then you don't believe I am Gilbert Grey?"
+
+"No, I do not. I believe that Gilbert Grey is dead."
+
+"Are you willing to come with me to Mr. Ferguson's, and speak to him
+about it?"
+
+"No, I am not. I have not time. I must leave Cincinnati at once."
+
+"Then will you tell me where you live?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because I see that you intend to follow me up and persecute me about
+this preposterous claim. I don't choose to be troubled."
+
+"If I am an impostor, you can prove me to be so."
+
+"I don't choose to waste my time in doing it."
+
+"Mr. Grey," said Gilbert, "I might as well tell you that I am
+determined in this matter. I know that you have an object in keeping me
+out of my rights; but I am bound to have them. I shall place the matter
+in the hands of a lawyer, and he can soon find out, by advertising,
+where you live, even if you try to keep it secret from me."
+
+James Grey realized the truth of this, and he changed his tack.
+
+"You say that you have a paper, signed by Jacob Morton, attesting your
+identity."
+
+"Not only signed, but written by him."
+
+"I should like to see that paper. Have you got it with you?"
+
+"No, but I can lay my hands upon it immediately."
+
+"Then bring it to me at the Burnet House this afternoon, at three
+o'clock. I will be in the reading-room of the hotel."
+
+"I will bring it."
+
+The two then separated.
+
+Gilbert went immediately, returned to his place of business, resolved
+to inform Mr. Ferguson, whom he looked upon as a good friend, that his
+uncle was found.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND.
+
+"Your uncle in the city?" said Mr. Ferguson, in surprise.
+
+"Yes, sir. I met him, only a short time since, on Vine street."
+
+"How did you know him?"
+
+"By the scar on his cheek. But I think I would have known him at any
+rate. I have a good memory for faces."
+
+"How did he receive you?" asked Mr. Ferguson, with curiosity.
+
+"He didn't seem very glad to see me," answered Gilbert, smiling. "He
+insisted that his nephew is dead, and called me an impostor."
+
+"He must have seen the resemblance between you and his brother. You
+will make just such a looking man as your father."
+
+"I hope I sha'n't look like my uncle."
+
+"Your father and your uncle did not resemble each other. There might
+have been a slight family likeness, but it was very slight."
+
+"So much the better."
+
+"You don't think you shall like your uncle?"
+
+"I am sure I shall not. First, he cheated me out of my property, and
+now, because I claim it, he calls me an impostor."
+
+"So that was the way the interview terminated, was it?"
+
+"Not exactly. When I told him I had old Jacob's confession, and
+threatened to put it into the hands of a lawyer, he said he would like
+to see it, and asked me to call with it at the Burnet House this
+afternoon."
+
+"Humph!" said Mr. Ferguson, thoughtfully. "Did you promise to do it?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Then I will give you a piece of advice."
+
+"What is it, sir?"
+
+"_Don't carry the original paper with you._"
+
+"Why not, sir?"
+
+"It is best to be on the safe side. Your uncle is an unscrupulous man.
+This paper is of the utmost importance to you, since it proves your
+identity, and lays bare the conspiracy against you. Just in proportion
+as it is valuable to you, it is also valuable to your uncle."
+
+"I understand," said Gilbert, nodding. "You think he has laid a trap
+for me, in order to get hold of the paper."
+
+"It looks very much like it. At any rate, it is best to be on your
+guard."
+
+"I don't think he would find it easy to get it away from me," said
+Gilbert, with the confidence of youth.
+
+"You are too confident, Gilbert. You are but a boy, and he is a strong
+man. Besides, he will want to take it in his hands."
+
+"Would you not advise me to carry it then, sir?"
+
+"Not the original. Can you not make a copy of the paper?"
+
+"But I am to call at three."
+
+"You will have time enough. It is not long."
+
+"Then I shall be obliged to neglect my duties here."
+
+"Oh! as to that, in a matter of such importance, I will readily excuse
+you. You can go home at once, and get to work."
+
+"Thank you, sir."
+
+Gilbert lost no time in availing himself of the permission accorded to
+him. Reaching his boarding-house--the same one to which the reader has
+already been introduced--he took the important paper from its secure
+resting-place in his trunk, and, seating himself at the table, began to
+copy it rapidly. When he first entered Mr. Ferguson's establishment, he
+could scarcely write at all; but he knew how important a good
+handwriting was, to one who aspired to be a business man, and he
+therefore soon commenced taking lessons. Now he was master of a
+handsome hand. Jacob, too, was a good writer, with a handwriting quite
+similar to his, so that, without any great effort, he succeeded in
+producing a document very nearly resembling the original.
+
+"Now, Uncle James, I am ready to meet you," he said to himself, with
+satisfaction, as he compared the two papers, and then carefully laid
+away the first in its old place of concealment. "You are welcome to
+destroy this, if you think it will do you any good."
+
+It was still early, for the paper was not long, and Gilbert decided to
+go back to the store, and resume his duties until it should be time to
+start for the Burnet House.
+
+"Where have you been, Gilbert?" asked Maurice Walton, crossly.
+
+"I have been home--to my boarding-house."
+
+"I shouldn't think Mr. Ferguson would like your leaving his business to
+run home in the middle of the fore-noon."
+
+"He advised me to go."
+
+"I suppose you pretended to have a headache, or something of that
+kind," said Maurice, with a sneer.
+
+"No, I didn't. I was never better in my life."
+
+"What did you go for, then?"
+
+"It seems to me you are very curious, Maurice," said Gilbert,
+good-naturedly. "If you must know, I went home on a little private
+business of my own."
+
+"Very important, I suppose."
+
+"Yes, it was important."
+
+"Mr. Ferguson is very partial to you, that's all I can say. He wouldn't
+let me be away for a couple of hours, in the morning, even if I did
+have _important_ business."
+
+"I have no doubt he would. I hope you won't be disturbed if I tell you
+that I am going out again this afternoon."
+
+"And you get twice as much pay as I," said Maurice, with
+dissatisfaction. "I say it's a shame."
+
+"You must remember, Maurice, that I don't fix the salaries. If I could
+fix it so, your salary should be raised at once, so as to equal mine."
+
+"It's easy to say that," said Maurice Walton, discontentedly.
+
+Gilbert, in spite of the discontent of his fellow-clerk, took his hat
+at half-past two, and left the store. He reached the Burnet House about
+ten minutes of three, and went at once to the reading-room, where he
+was to meet his uncle.
+
+Mr. Grey was already in waiting. He was seated in an arm-chair, looking
+over a file of the New York _Herald_.
+
+"I have come, Mr. Grey," said Gilbert, "as you proposed."
+
+"Humph! Have you the paper?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Here Mr. Grey showed signs of satisfaction, as Gilbert was
+quick-sighted enough to perceive.
+
+"We will go up stairs to my room," said his uncle, rising, and laying
+down the paper. "We shall be more private there."
+
+"Perhaps he thinks he can get hold of the paper better," thought our
+hero, though, of course, he kept his thought to himself.
+
+"Follow me," said Mr. Grey. "Give me the key to No. 157," he said, to
+the hotel clerk.
+
+Gilbert followed him up several flights of stairs till he reached his
+room.
+
+"Enter," he said, unlocking the door.
+
+Gilbert did so, feeling, at the same time, a queer sensation, as he
+thought of the attempt that might be made at violence. However, he was
+not wanting in courage, and did not deign to give audience to fear.
+
+"Sit down," said Mr. Grey, abruptly.
+
+Gilbert seated himself near the door. His uncle drew up a chair for
+himself, but, as our hero noted, placed it between him and the door.
+
+"He wants to cut me off from escape," he thought. "Never mind; he'll
+let me go when he finds he can't make anything by keeping me."
+
+"Well," said his uncle, when they were seated, "let me know all about
+this precious plot you have been hatching."
+
+"I am engaged in no plot, Mr. Grey," said Gilbert, steadily.
+
+"Of course not. Conspirators are the last to admit the real character
+of their designs. But that don't alter the fact. You have laid a plot
+for getting possession of my property, and, to this end, have forged a
+paper, which you think will help you."
+
+"You are quite mistaken, Mr. Grey. I have Jacob Morton's written
+confession of his agency in carrying me away from Cincinnati. I knew
+nothing of it till he spoke to me on this subject, and placed the paper
+in my hands."
+
+"Have you the paper with you?"
+
+Gilbert didn't answer this question, since he could not have said truly
+that he had Jacob's confession with him. It was merely his own copy.
+But he drew the paper from his breast-pocket, and handed it to his
+uncle.
+
+Mr. Grey took the paper, and ran his eye rapidly over it. His
+countenance changed, for he saw that it would have great weight in a
+court of justice, completely substantiating Gilbert's claims to the
+estate which he wrongfully held.
+
+"Well," he said, looking up, after he had finished reading the paper,
+"I have read this document, and I have no hesitation in pronouncing it
+a vile forgery. It shall meet the fate it merits."
+
+So saying, he hastily tore it across the middle, and proceeded to tear
+it into still smaller pieces.
+
+"Now, young man," he said, sarcastically, "as I have no further
+business with you, I will bid you a very good-day," and he bowed,
+mockingly.
+
+"I think you are mistaken about our business being settled," said
+Gilbert, quietly.
+
+"Your forged document will help you little," said Mr. Grey,
+triumphantly. "I have torn it into a hundred pieces."
+
+[Illustration: "Your forged document will help you little," said Mr.
+Grey, triumphantly. "I have torn it into a hundred pieces."--Page 138.]
+
+"It is of no consequence," said our hero, calmly. "_It is only a copy
+of the original paper._"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+BAFFLED, BUT NOT DISCOURAGED.
+
+
+The triumphant look on the face of James Grey faded, and was replaced
+by one of baffled rage and disappointment.
+
+"It's a lie!" he exclaimed, speaking rather what he wished than what he
+believed.
+
+"You are mistaken," said Gilbert, in the same calm tone. "The paper you
+have just torn up was in my own handwriting."
+
+"I have no doubt of that. I thought, all the time, that it was an
+imposture which you had got up."
+
+"I made a copy of it from the original this morning," said our hero.
+
+"Why did you not bring the original, if there is one?"
+
+"Because I was afraid you might be tempted to destroy it. It seems I
+was right," added Gilbert, with a glance at the torn pieces of paper
+which littered the carpet at his feet.
+
+James Grey was terribly provoked. He had "shown his hand," so to speak,
+and gained nothing by it. If his nephew's story was true, the dreaded
+paper was still in existence, and likely to be guarded more carefully
+than ever. Gilbert's calmness was a strong indication of the
+correctness of his story. Were the real paper destroyed, he could not
+help showing agitation.
+
+"Do you mean to say that you have another paper than this?" he
+demanded.
+
+"I do," said our hero.
+
+"You must show me that, or I shall not believe you have it."
+
+"I am not quite a fool, Uncle James," said Gilbert. "I know as well as
+you how valuable that paper is, and I am not going to risk it."
+
+"You seem to be a remarkably prudent young man," said Mr. Grey, with a
+sneer--"quite an old head upon young shoulders."
+
+"I ought to be," said Gilbert. "I was educated to the streets of New
+York. There I had to knock about for myself and earn my own living, at
+an age when most boys are carefully looked after by their parents. I
+learned to look out for my own interests there. I am indebted to you
+for that kind of training. You must not complain now if I use it
+against you."
+
+Mr. Grey sat a moment in deep and troubled thought. This nephew of his
+turned out to be a decidedly formidable opponent. How could he cope
+with him?
+
+"Have you told any one in this city about these false claims of yours?"
+he asked, after awhile.
+
+"I have not spoken to any one about _false_ claims," said Gilbert,
+coldly.
+
+"Call them what you will. Have you spoken of having any claims to my
+brother's property to any one here?"
+
+"I have."
+
+"To whom?"
+
+"To Mr. Ferguson."
+
+James Grey frowned. Mr. Ferguson was one of the last men to whom he
+would have wished the communication known.
+
+"He must have laughed at your ridiculous story."
+
+"On the contrary, he fully believes it."
+
+"I did not think him so gullible. Have you spoken to him about my being
+in the city?"
+
+"I have."
+
+"Did he know you were to call upon me this afternoon?"
+
+"I told him before I came."
+
+Things were evidently getting more serious than Mr. Grey had supposed.
+Not only was Gilbert a young man who meant business, but he was backed
+by a merchant of standing, whose former connection with the Grey family
+made his co-operation and favor of no slight importance. James Grey saw
+that he must temporize. Had he followed out his inclination, he would
+have sprung upon his obdurate nephew and pounded him to a jelly. But
+unfortunately he was in a civilized city, where laws are supposed to
+afford some protection from personal assault, and this course,
+therefore, was not to be thought of. Since violence, then, was not
+practicable, he must have recourse to stratagem, and, to put Gilbert
+temporarily off his guard, he must play a part.
+
+"Well, young man," he said, at length, "I am not prepared at present to
+pronounce a definite opinion upon your claim. Of course, if really
+convinced that you were my nephew, I would acknowledge you to be such."
+
+"I have some doubts as to that," thought Gilbert.
+
+"But it does not seem to me very probable that such is the case. Of
+course, I objected to being duped by an impostor. You cannot blame me
+for that."
+
+"No."
+
+"At first, your claim appeared to me preposterous, and I pronounced it
+to be so. Upon reflection, though I strongly doubt its genuineness, I
+am willing to take time to consider it."
+
+"That is fair," said Gilbert.
+
+"I shall consult with a lawyer on the subject, and institute some
+inquiries of my own. Then, besides, my time will be partly occupied
+with other business, on which I have come hither. You may come again,
+say in a week, and I shall perhaps be able to give you a definite
+answer."
+
+"Very well," said Gilbert. "Good-morning."
+
+"Good-morning," responded his uncle, following him to the door. "I'd
+like to kick you down stairs, you young villain," he added, _sotto
+voce_.
+
+James Grey shut the door of his chamber, and sat down to think. It was
+certainly an emergency that called for serious thought. Gilbert's claim
+would strip him of four-fifths of his fortune, and reduce him from a
+rich man to a comparatively poor one.
+
+"I am not safe as long as that paper exists," he concluded. "It must be
+stolen from the boy, in some way." But how? He felt that he wanted an
+unscrupulous tool through whose agency he might get possession of old
+Jacob's confession. That destroyed, he could snap his fingers at
+Gilbert, and live undisturbed in the possession of the fortune he
+wrongfully withheld from him.
+
+Sometimes the devil sends to evil men precisely what they most want,
+and so it turned out in this particular instance.
+
+That evening Mr. Grey was walking thoughtfully in the street,
+reflecting upon his difficult situation, when his sharp ears caught the
+sound of his nephew's name, pronounced by two boys, or young men, in
+front of him. Not to keep the reader in suspense, they were Maurice
+Walton and a friend of his, named Isaac Baker.
+
+"I tell you, Baker," said Maurice, warmly, "it's the greatest piece of
+injustice my being paid only half the salary of that sneak, Gilbert
+Grey."
+
+"I suppose he's a favorite with Ferguson, isn't he?"
+
+"That's just it. I'm as good a clerk as he is, any day, yet he gets
+twenty dollars a week, while I only get ten. It's enough to make a
+fellow swear."
+
+"Did you ever speak to Ferguson about it?"
+
+"Yes, but that was all the good it did. He seems to think there's
+nobody like Grey."
+
+"How did Grey get in with him?"
+
+"I believe he's a nephew of the man Ferguson used to work for. Besides
+he's got a way of getting round people. He's a humbug and a hypocrite."
+
+Maurice spoke with bitterness, and evidently felt strongly on the
+subject. He had another grievance, which he did not choose to speak of,
+of which our readers have already had a glimpse. His cousin, Bessie
+Benton, persisted in the bad taste of preferring Gilbert to him. Of
+course they were too young for anything serious; but, in the social
+gatherings to which all three were invited, Bessie was, of course, the
+recipient of attentions from both, and she had, on more than one
+occasion, shown unmistakably her preference for Gilbert Grey. Only two
+evenings previous, she had danced with Gilbert, but, when Maurice
+applied, had told him her card was full. It was not an intentional
+slight, and, had he come up earlier, he would have been successful in
+securing her. But he chose to regard it as a slight, and this naturally
+embittered him still more, partly against his cousin, but most of all
+against Gilbert, who, both in business and with the fair sex, seemed to
+have eclipsed him.
+
+"I suppose, under the circumstances, you don't like Grey much?" said
+his companion.
+
+"Like him!" returned Maurice, with bitter emphasis. "I should think
+not. He's a mean grasping fellow, and I hate him. He's got the inside
+track now, but my turn may come some time."
+
+James Grey listened to this conversation with increasing interest. It
+seemed to open a way for him to success.
+
+"Come," thought he, "here is just the fellow I want. He hates my
+dangerous nephew, and can easily be molded to my purposes. I will
+follow him, and, as soon as I can speak to him alone, I will see if I
+cannot win him to my side."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+A CONSPIRACY.
+
+
+James Grey continued to follow Maurice Walton and his companion until
+his patience was nearly exhausted. At length, just as the city clocks
+were striking ten, Baker said:
+
+"Well, Walton, I must bid you good-night."
+
+"Won't you walk home with me? It isn't far out of your way."
+
+"Can't do it to-night. The fact is, I want to see the governor before
+he retires. I'm hard up, and shall try to get a ten-dollar bill out of
+him."
+
+"I wish you success. As to being 'hard up,' I can sympathize with you.
+Couldn't you ask him for an extra ten for me?"
+
+"I would if there was any chance of getting it, but I'm afraid my own
+chance is slim enough."
+
+"If I only got Grey's salary, I wouldn't ask favors of anybody; but how
+is a fellow to get along on ten dollars a week?"
+
+"Just so. Well, good-night."
+
+"Good-night."
+
+Baker walked off, and Maurice Walton walked on by himself. He had taken
+but a few steps when Mr. Grey, quickening his pace, laid his hand upon
+his shoulder.
+
+"Mr. Walton," said he.
+
+Maurice turned quickly.
+
+"You must excuse the liberty I have taken in addressing you, being a
+stranger; but I heard you, when in conversation with the young man who
+has just left you, mention the name of Gilbert Grey."
+
+"Yes, sir, I mentioned his name," said Maurice. "Do you know him?"
+
+"I have spoken with him, but I know very little about him. I judge that
+you do."
+
+"We are in the same store," said Maurice; "but we are not intimate
+friends."
+
+"I infer that you do not like him?"
+
+"No, I don't."
+
+"Nor do I."
+
+Probably Mr. Grey could not have said anything more likely to win young
+Walton's confidence than this frank expression of dislike.
+
+"The fact is," continued Mr. Grey, "I suppose I may speak to you in
+confidence?"
+
+"Oh! certainly, sir," said Maurice, eagerly, for he anticipated hearing
+something to Gilbert's disadvantage.
+
+"Then," said Mr. Grey, in a low tone, "I look upon him as an impostor."
+
+"You do?" repeated young Walton. "What makes you think so?"
+
+"I don't like to speak openly in the street. Can you give me an hour,
+or even half an hour of your time, or is it necessary for you to go
+home at once?"
+
+"Where are you stopping, sir?"
+
+"At the Burnet House."
+
+"I think I can spare half an hour. It is near by."
+
+"Thank you. I will endeavor to make the interview a profitable one for
+you. I am going to ask a service of you, and I am willing to pay
+handsomely for it."
+
+Upon a young man "hard up," as Maurice was, this suggestion was not
+thrown away.
+
+"I shall be glad to help you, sir," he said, quickly.
+
+"Come with me, then. I will defer saying more till we are seated in my
+room at the hotel."
+
+In less than five minutes they were so seated. By the gaslight Maurice
+got a fair view of his companion, and was led to wonder who he was.
+
+"Mr. Walton," said the older man, "it is only fair that I should give
+you an equal advantage with myself. I know your name. You do not know
+mine. Let me introduce myself as James Grey."
+
+"Formerly in business in this city?"
+
+"The same."
+
+"The uncle of Gilbert Grey?"
+
+"So he says."
+
+It was impossible to mistake the tone in which these words were spoken.
+
+"Is he not really your nephew?" asked Maurice, in surprise.
+
+James Grey shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"He _pretends_ to be; but I believe him to be an impostor."
+
+"What makes you think so? Why should he pretend to be related to you?"
+asked Maurice, excited and eager.
+
+"Because I am rich, and he has entered into a plot to extort money from
+me. I can make clear his design very briefly. He pretends that he is
+the son of my elder brother. If this be true, then the property which I
+possess, or a large part of it, properly belongs to him."
+
+"But, if it isn't true, how can he make such a claim?"
+
+"My brother's only son disappeared when a mere boy, and, though his
+body was not found, there is reason to believe that he fell into the
+Ohio river and was drowned. At about the same time, a clerk in my
+employ purloined a sum of money and fled. This boy has heard of these
+two incidents, and, cunningly putting them together, comes forward with
+a trumped-up story to the effect that this clerk, Jacob Morton, was
+hired to carry off my nephew, in order that, the true heir being out of
+the way, I might succeed to my brother's money. It is ridiculous, and
+yet it is cunningly devised."
+
+"I always thought he was artful," said Maurice.
+
+"You are quite right there. He has an astonishing amount of artfulness
+and unblushing impudence. But I have not told you all. He produces a
+paper professing to be written by this Jacob Morton, who, he says, is
+dead, asserting all that he claims."
+
+"Do you think he wrote it himself?"
+
+"Either that, or he has met this clerk somewhere, and they have devised
+a plan for jointly enriching themselves at my expense. If this is the
+case, and the paper was really written by Jacob Morton, the man is
+probably still alive, but keeping himself somewhere in concealment."
+
+"What a bold attempt at fraud!" exclaimed Maurice, who was completely
+duped by his companion's plausible statements.
+
+"Is it not? Now I want to ask you, who know him well, what your opinion
+of him is. Do you look upon him as honest and straightforward?"
+
+"No, I don't. He's just artful enough to be up to some such game. He's
+deceived Mr. Ferguson, and made him think there is no one like him, so
+that there is no chance for me. He gets twice the salary that I do,
+although I have been in the business as long as he."
+
+"And yet you look as if you had a good business turn," said Mr. Grey,
+with skillful flattery.
+
+"I know as much of business as he does. I am sure of that."
+
+"Mr. Ferguson must be a weak man to be so easily duped. If it were my
+case, he wouldn't find it so easy to impose upon me."
+
+"I don't know how he does it, but he has cut me out entirely. Mr.
+Ferguson won't hear a word against his favorite."
+
+"You are unfortunate, but we are in the same position there. He has
+conspired to keep you down, and he is now plotting to extort money from
+me by his preposterous claims."
+
+"Do you think he stands any chance?"
+
+"No. But if he produces this paper of his, he might bring a suit
+against me which would be annoying. You know there are some people who
+are always ready to believe the worst, and I dare say he would convince
+some that his claims were just, and that I had acted fraudulently. Now
+that would be unpleasant to me, though I should be certain to win at
+law."
+
+"Of course. What are you going to do about it, Mr. Grey?"
+
+"To ask your assistance, for which I shall be ready to pay."
+
+"But what can I do?" asked Maurice, in some astonishment.
+
+"I will tell you," said James Grey, hitching his chair nearer that of
+his young visitor; "but, of course, you will keep my confidence?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"The whole strength of his case lies in this forged paper. Let me get
+possession of that, and he can do nothing."
+
+"I see."
+
+"Now you know where he boards, probably?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Can't you contrive to get access to his room, search for the
+paper--very likely it is in his trunk--and, when obtained, bring it to
+me? I am ready to give a hundred dollars for it."
+
+"I don't know," said Maurice, slowly. "I am afraid it would be
+difficult."
+
+"But by no means impossible. I will give you ten dollars now, and that
+you may keep, whether you succeed or not. If you succeed, you shall
+have a hundred dollars besides. Do you agree?"
+
+As he spoke he held a ten-dollar bill out temptingly. It was a
+temptation that Maurice Walton, with but fifty cents in his pocket,
+could not resist. He wanted money sorely. Besides, he had a chance to
+win a hundred dollars additional, and this would enable him to gratify
+several wishes which had hitherto seemed unattainable.
+
+"I will do my best," he said, holding out his hand for the money.
+
+There was a quiet flash of triumph in the cold, gray eye of his older
+companion, as he placed the bill in Maurice's hands.
+
+"I need not caution you to be secret," he said.
+
+"I shall not say a word to any one," answered young Walton.
+
+James Grey rubbed his hands gleefully, as Walton left the room.
+
+"The scheme promises well," he soliloquized. "My worthy nephew, I may
+checkmate you yet."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+THE THEFT OF THE PAPER.
+
+
+Had Maurice Walton been a youth of strict honor, he could not have been
+induced to undertake the theft of the paper, however large the sum
+offered him. But his principles were not strict enough to interfere,
+and the hope of injuring Gilbert, whom he envied, and therefore hated,
+made him the more willing to engage in the enterprise.
+
+"A hundred dollars will be very acceptable," he said to himself,
+complacently. "They couldn't be more easily earned. Now, how shall I
+set about it?"
+
+Maurice came to the conclusion that Gilbert kept the paper in his
+trunk. This seemed to be the most natural depository to be selected. Of
+course, then, he must contrive some means of opening the trunk. He
+thought of pretending that he had lost the key of his own trunk, and
+asking Gilbert for the loan of his. But that would draw suspicion upon
+him when the paper was missed. Another plan, which he finally adopted,
+was to go to a locksmith, and ask for a variety of trunk keys, on the
+same pretext, in order to try, with the liberty of returning those that
+didn't suit. This, and other points necessary to success in his scheme,
+were determined upon by Maurice, and will be made known to the reader
+as he proceeds.
+
+A little before ten the next morning, Maurice left his place in the
+store, and, going to Mr. Ferguson, asked permission to go home.
+
+"For what reason?" asked his employer.
+
+"I have a terrible headache," said Maurice, looking as miserable as
+possible.
+
+"Certainly you may go," said Mr. Ferguson, who was a kind-hearted man,
+and who didn't doubt the statement.
+
+"If I feel better I will come back in the afternoon," said Maurice.
+
+"Don't come unless you feel able. I know what the headache is, and I
+don't want you to come, unless you feel quite able to attend to
+business."
+
+"Thank you, sir."
+
+"Now for business," said Maurice, as he found himself in the street.
+"I'll rest my poor head by a ride on the horse-cars."
+
+First, however, he entered a small shop near by, over which was a sign,
+M. FRINK, Locksmith.
+
+The locksmith, wearing a dirty apron, looked up from his work.
+
+"I have lost the key to my trunk," said Maurice.
+
+"I can make you another," said the locksmith.
+
+"I want to open it now. Haven't you got some already made?"
+
+"Plenty. But how will you know the size?"
+
+"Give me half a dozen to try, and I will bring back those that don't
+suit."
+
+"All right. Is your lock a large one?"
+
+"Not very. About medium," said Maurice, hazarding a guess.
+
+The locksmith picked out eight keys, of various sizes, and handed them
+to Maurice.
+
+"I will bring them back safe," said he.
+
+"All right. I don't think you'll run off with them."
+
+"Now for it," said Maurice. "I think one of these keys must fit."
+
+He took the cars to a point only two squares distant from Gilbert's
+boarding-house, and walked toward it. But, in order to change his
+appearance, he applied to his upper lip a false black mustache, which
+he had bought for the purpose, and, a little discomposed by his
+dishonest intentions, walked up the steps and rang the bell. It was
+opened directly by a servant.
+
+"I am a friend of Mr. Grey's," said Maurice, putting on a bold face.
+"He told me I might get his opera-glass."
+
+This he said in an easy, confident manner, which imposed upon the girl.
+
+"Do you know his room?" she asked.
+
+"Yes, I know it," said Maurice. "Never mind about going up."
+
+The servant went back to her work, and Maurice, his heart beating fast,
+went up stairs on his dishonest errand. He had no difficulty in getting
+into the room, for the door was not locked. The trunks were kept in the
+bed-chamber, and he therefore went thither at once. One of the trunks
+was a handsome one, made of sole-leather. This belonged to Mordaunt.
+The other was plainer and smaller, and no doubt belonged to Gilbert.
+
+Maurice got down on his knees and began to try his keys. The first did
+not fit, neither did the second, nor the third. Indeed, it was only the
+last that proved to be the right one. Maurice had feared the failure of
+his plans, when success came.
+
+"So far, so good," he said, and began eagerly to explore the contents.
+
+First in order came a pile of shirts and underclothing. These he
+hastily removed, and peered about for papers. In one corner was a book
+of deposits on a city savings-bank. Led by curiosity, Maurice opened
+it. He saw a long line of deposits, covering several pages, for Gilbert
+had been in the habit of making a weekly deposit, even the first year,
+for, though his income was small, he had nothing to pay for board, and
+this was, of course, a great help.
+
+"How much has the fellow got?" thought Maurice.
+
+He made a hurried calculation, and, to his astonishment and envy,
+learned that our hero had seven hundred and sixty dollars deposited to
+his credit.
+
+"Almost eight hundred dollars, and I haven't a cent," he muttered,
+discontentedly. Then there came the thought that if he found the paper,
+he might count upon a hundred dollars, and his good spirits returned.
+Underneath the bank-book were two letters, written to him by Mordaunt
+while absent on a pleasure-trip not long before, and under these was a
+sheet of quarto paper, which appeared to be written upon.
+
+"That may be the paper," thought Maurice, and he took it in his hands
+with eager anticipations. Turning to the end he read the signature,
+"Jacob Morton." A slight examination of the contents satisfied him that
+it was the paper he wanted.
+
+"Success! success!" he ejaculated, exultingly. "My hundred dollars are
+safe. Now, Gilbert Grey, your hopes are dashed to the earth, and you
+won't know who has done it for you."
+
+There was no need of waiting longer. He put back the contents of the
+trunk hastily, with the exception of the paper, which he folded, and
+put carefully in his breast-pocket. Then locking the trunk, he went
+down stairs, and let himself out by the front door, without meeting any
+one.
+
+"I didn't think I'd succeed so easily," he thought. "Now I'll go round
+to the Burnet House and get my hundred dollars. It pays to have a
+headache, sometimes."
+
+Arrived at the Burnet House he found that Mr. Grey was out, and decided
+to wait for him. He remained in the reading-room, reading the papers,
+impatient for the return of his employer. As he sat there, Mr. Grey,
+who had been told at the desk that some one was waiting to see him,
+entered.
+
+"Ah! my young friend," he said, affably, "well, have you any news for
+me?"
+
+"Yes," said Maurice.
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"Hadn't we better go up stairs?"
+
+"It may be better. But, in one word, is it success or failure?"
+
+"Success," said Maurice.
+
+"Good!" exclaimed James Grey, his eyes lighting up with joy. "Come up."
+
+Again they found themselves in the same room in which Gilbert and his
+uncle had formerly had their interview.
+
+"The paper," said Mr. Grey, impatiently.
+
+"You'll pay me the money?" said Maurice, cautiously.
+
+"If the paper is correct, you may be assured of that."
+
+Upon this assurance Maurice withdrew the paper from his pocket, and
+passed it over to his companion. The latter opened it, and glanced over
+it triumphantly.
+
+"Is it right?"
+
+"Yes, it is right. It is the forged paper. We have put a spoke in the
+wheel of that impudent young impostor. He can do nothing now. But you
+want your money, and you shall have it."
+
+Mr. Grey took out his pocket-book and counted out five twenty-dollar
+bills, which he put in the hands of his agent.
+
+"Now confess," he said, "you never earned money more easily."
+
+"No," said Maurice; "but I wouldn't like to go through it again.
+Suppose Grey had come in while I was at his trunk?"
+
+"Tell me how you managed it--I am curious to know."
+
+So Maurice told the story, which amused his auditor not a little,
+especially when he tried on the mustache in his presence.
+
+"You are a regular conspirator," he said, smiling. "You absolutely have
+a genius for intrigue."
+
+Maurice felt complimented by this remark, and the fact that he was the
+possessor of over a hundred dollars, put him in very good spirits.
+
+"When do you think Gilbert will find out his loss?" he asked.
+
+"Very likely not till he calls on me. He will wonder how he met with
+the loss."
+
+"I must be going, Mr. Grey," said Maurice. "It is about time for
+lunch."
+
+"I would invite you to lunch with me, but it might lead to suspicions."
+
+"Thank you all the same."
+
+"Now the boy may do his worst," said James Grey, exultingly. "He has
+lost his proof, and has nothing but his own assertion to fall back
+upon. _I am out of danger._"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+THE TABLES TURNED.
+
+
+As Maurice Walton left the Burnet House, he fell in with the one whom
+he most wished to avoid. Gilbert was returning to the store, after his
+usual midday lunch. He was surprised to see Maurice, supposing him at
+home, suffering from the headache.
+
+"How do you happen to be here, Maurice?" he asked. "I thought you were
+at home."
+
+"My head felt so bad that I thought I would come out into the fresh
+air," answered Maurice, a little confused.
+
+"Do you feel better?"
+
+"A little. I think I'll go home and go to bed."
+
+"I hope you'll be all right to-morrow."
+
+"I guess so."
+
+So they separated, Gilbert, who was not inclined to be suspicious, not
+doubting his fellow-clerk's statements.
+
+That evening, when he returned to his boarding-house, the servant said:
+
+"Did your friend find the opera-glass?"
+
+"What?" said Gilbert.
+
+"Shure a friend of yours called, and said you had sent him to borrow
+your opera-glass."
+
+"I sent nobody. Who was it? What did he look like?"
+
+"He was about your size, shure, and had a black _mustash_."
+
+"I don't know who it can be. Did he go up into my room?"
+
+"Yes, he did. He said he knew the way."
+
+"I can't think who it was."
+
+Gilbert went up stairs, and, to increase the mystery, there was his
+opera-glass on the bureau, where he usually kept it. It was directly in
+sight, so that the visitor must have seen it.
+
+"I can't understand it," he said, perplexed. "Mordaunt, do you know of
+any friend of mine who has a black mustache?"
+
+"Frank Oswald."
+
+"He is considerably larger than I am. The servant said it was some one
+of my size."
+
+"I can't think of anybody else."
+
+"I don't see why he didn't take the opera-glass, if he wanted it,
+though it would have been rather bold, as I didn't authorize anybody to
+take it."
+
+As there seemed no clew to the mystery, and as, moreover, Gilbert had
+no suspicion that the visitor was on an unlawful errand, he dismissed
+it from his mind.
+
+Two days afterward, Gilbert met his uncle in the street. As the week
+was not up, he was about to pass him with a bow, when Mr. Grey paused,
+and appeared inclined to speak.
+
+"Young man," he said, "can you call on me this evening?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"I shall leave the city to-morrow, and, though it is of no consequence
+to me, I suppose you would like to know my decision in regard to the
+matter you broached the other day."
+
+"I will call," said Gilbert, bowing.
+
+"He looks as if he were going to defy me," thought our hero. "Well, I
+am ready for him."
+
+In the evening he called, and was shown up to his uncle's room.
+
+"Good-evening, Mr. Grey," he said, politely.
+
+"Good-evening, young sir," said the other. "You did me the honor, the
+other day, of claiming relationship with me?"
+
+"I did."
+
+"Knowing that your claim had no foundation, but was only an impudent
+fabrication, instigated by cupidity----"
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir," said Gilbert, quietly, "but that statement I
+deny most positively. I have not the slightest doubt that that
+relationship exists; neither has Mr. Ferguson."
+
+"You have succeeded in duping Mr. Ferguson. You will find it a harder
+task to dupe me. If you knew me better, you would have hesitated before
+you attempted to humbug me in that barefaced way."
+
+"If you knew me better, Uncle James----"
+
+"I am not your Uncle James."
+
+"Mr. Grey, then. If you knew me better, Mr. Grey, you would know that I
+am not capable of making a false claim."
+
+"Oh! no doubt you are very honest--the soul of integrity," sneered
+James Grey; "but every one has his price, and, as the success of your
+imposture would make you rich for life, you concluded to leave honesty
+out of the question."
+
+James Grey might at once have referred to his possession of the paper,
+but he could not forbear playing with Gilbert, as a cat with a mouse,
+enjoying meanwhile the power which he possessed of crushing his claims
+by a single statement.
+
+"Your charge is entirely unjust," said Gilbert, quietly. "I shall
+appreciate the money to which I am rightfully entitled, to be sure; but
+I want to settle my claim, also, to my father's name, of which I was so
+long ignorant."
+
+"If you choose to call yourself Grey, or Green, or Brown, there is no
+law to prevent you, I suppose," said Mr. Grey, sarcastically; "but when
+you, a street bootblack, try to force your way into a respectable
+family, there is considerable to be said."
+
+"I am not ashamed of having been a bootblack," said our hero, calmly.
+"I was earning an honest living, though an humble one; and I was not
+living upon what belonged to another."
+
+"Do you mean me?" interrupted his uncle, angrily.
+
+"You must decide whether you are meant, Mr. Grey."
+
+"Suppose now I decline to consider seriously this very impudent claim
+of yours, what are you going to do about it?"
+
+"I shall take legal advice."
+
+"How do you expect to pay a lawyer?"
+
+"I shall try to manage it."
+
+"No lawyer will undertake such a discreditable case."
+
+"I happen to be acquainted with one lawyer that will. In fact, I have
+mentioned the matter to him, and I am acting by his advice now."
+
+"Does he tell you that you have a good case?"
+
+"He does."
+
+"What does he say is the strongest part of it?"
+
+"The statement of Jacob Morton."
+
+"Do you happen to have it with you?"
+
+"No, sir. After the experience of my last call, I prefer not to bring
+it."
+
+"You can't produce it," said James Grey, triumphantly.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because you have no such document."
+
+"You are mistaken there."
+
+"I have the strongest reason for saying that this forged document, on
+which you so much rely, is no longer in your possession."
+
+"I should like to know your reason," said Gilbert, struck by his
+uncle's significant manner.
+
+"Then I will tell you. It is not in your possession, because _it is
+in mine_!"
+
+"What do you mean, sir?" asked Gilbert, somewhat startled.
+
+"Just what I say. I have obtained possession of the paper which you so
+artfully concocted, and pretended to be the dying statement of Jacob
+Morton."
+
+"What, did Mr. Ferguson give it to you?" asked Gilbert, amazed.
+
+"Mr. Ferguson? What had he to do with it?"
+
+"It is in his safe. I deposited it there, the morning after my
+interview with you."
+
+"That is a lie!" exclaimed Mr. Grey, in excitement. "You placed it in
+your trunk."
+
+"Oh!" said Gilbert, as light dawned upon him, "I understand you, now.
+Before carrying it to Mr. Ferguson, I made a copy for reference,
+thinking, also, that you might want to look at it again. _That copy_ I
+left in my trunk; but the original is in Mr. Ferguson's safe."
+
+"I don't believe you," said James Grey, furiously.
+
+"It is perfectly true. I suppose that the young man who I hear called
+at my room one day in my absence, was your agent, and that he stole the
+paper."
+
+"Out of my room, you scoundrel!" roared James Grey, whose
+disappointment was in proportion to his former exultation. "I defy
+you!"
+
+Gilbert saw that it would be of no use to prolong the discussion. He
+bowed quietly, and left the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+A SUDDEN DEPARTURE.
+
+
+After James Grey's triumphant feeling that he had spiked the guns of
+his young adversary, the revulsion and disappointment of defeat were
+all the more disheartening. He would like to have believed his tale a
+false one, but that was not easy. On a closer inspection of the paper
+which Maurice Walton had brought to him, he discovered a water-mark in
+the paper showing that it had only been manufactured the year previous.
+As Gilbert had been in Cincinnati three years, this, of course, was
+sufficient to show that the document could not be genuine.
+
+"Who would have imagined the fellow so shrewd?" ejaculated his uncle,
+pacing the room with hurried steps. "He lost no time in locking up the
+paper. I'm afraid he's going to be a dangerous enemy."
+
+Then, contemptuously:
+
+"What a fool I am--a full-grown man, with fifty years' experience of
+the world, to be afraid of what a boy can do! No, he shall not gain his
+point. Possession is nine points of the law, and possession is mine. If
+he undertakes to oust me, he must be careful, for I have not lived in
+luxury, and grown accustomed to it for years, to resign it quietly now.
+If it is going to be a fight, it shall be a desperate one."
+
+One of the smaller mortifications which Mr. Grey experienced was that
+of paying Maurice Walton a hundred and ten dollars, without receiving
+any benefit from the outlay.
+
+"I'd get the money back, if I could," he thought, but reflection
+convinced him that this would be impossible. Besides, the best way to
+secure Maurice's continued silence, was to leave him in undisturbed
+possession of the money.
+
+"After all, there's one good thing about him," considered Mr. Grey, "he
+hates my rascally nephew. For that alone I make him welcome to the
+money, though he has done me no good."
+
+How should he carry on the campaign? That was the first thing to be
+considered. Evidently his policy was to be passive. He must remain on
+the defensive, leaving the aggressive part of the conflict to his
+nephew. First in the programme, he determined to leave Cincinnati at
+once, so that no legal process might be served upon him.
+
+"Fortunately, the boy does not know where I live, nor can his employer
+give him any clew, as he, too, is ignorant of it. If he takes the
+trouble to call upon me again, he will find the bird flown."
+
+James Grey was a man of quick action. He no sooner came to this
+determination than he proceeded to carry it out. Proceeding to the
+clerk's desk, he announced his immediate departure. Then, taking care
+not to order a hotel carriage, lest this should afford a clew to his
+destination, he left the hotel with his carpet-bag in his hand, and
+took a cab from the next street. He was driven direct to the depot,
+and, in a few minutes, was on his way westward.
+
+"How lucky it was that I took the paper from my trunk," thought
+Gilbert, as he left the hotel. "Probably it would, by this time, have
+been destroyed, had it come into my uncle's possession. I think I'm a
+little ahead of him, this time."
+
+Gilbert was not intimidated, nor were his resolutions shaken by the
+defiant tone in which his uncle had spoken to him. He was a spirited
+boy, and he meant to stick to his rights, as he understood them. He was
+not one to be browbeaten or cheated, and he resolved to fight out the
+battle.
+
+"I will call on my uncle to-morrow evening," he resolved. "He will then
+have had twenty-four hours to think over the situation, and, if he is a
+man of sense, he will see that he can't get over my proofs."
+
+When Mr. Ferguson, therefore, asked him how the business progressed, he
+answered that nothing definite had been settled upon, but that he was
+to have another interview with his uncle in the evening.
+
+"It will take some time to bring him round, I think," said his
+employer. "A man doesn't resign a fine estate without some opposition.
+If you should need any advice, at any time, you may apply to me
+freely."
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Ferguson, I certainly will. Perhaps I may need to do it
+to-morrow."
+
+In the evening our hero walked into the hotel, and, stepping up to the
+desk, inquired if Mr. Grey was in.
+
+"He has gone away," was the answer.
+
+"Gone!" exclaimed Gilbert, in manifest dismay, for that possibility had
+not occurred to him.
+
+"Yes--he went away yesterday afternoon."
+
+"Do you know where he went? From what depot?"
+
+"I cannot tell you. He didn't take a carriage, but walked. Probably he
+went home."
+
+"Will you let me see his name on the register?"
+
+The book was placed before him, and Gilbert, finding the entry of his
+uncle's name, saw opposite it, "St. Louis, Mo."
+
+"So he lives in St. Louis," thought our hero. "It won't be hard to find
+him, then. His name is probably in the directory. I must go at once to
+St. Louis. This business ought to be attended to at once."
+
+Of course, it was necessary to speak to his employer about leave of
+absence. Probably, also, Mr. Ferguson would be able to give him some
+valuable advice, and he was likely to stand in need of it, for the
+undertaking on which he had entered was of no light character.
+Single-handed, he could hardly hope to overcome so experienced and
+determined an opponent as James Grey. He sought Mr. Ferguson, and gave
+him a full account of what had happened thus far. He concluded by
+stating the departure of his uncle.
+
+"Well, Gilbert," said Mr. Ferguson, after he had finished, "have you
+thought of anything further, or will you let the matter rest?"
+
+"Never!" exclaimed our hero, with energy. "I will not rest till I have
+recovered the property of which my uncle has deprived me."
+
+"That will be difficult."
+
+"I know it, but I am not afraid of difficulty. It is not impossible. He
+thrust me into the streets of New York to earn my living as a
+bootblack; and I might have been there now, if Jacob had not revealed
+to me the story of my birth."
+
+"You don't express yourself much like a street-boy now, Gilbert."
+
+"No, sir. I hope I have improved since then."
+
+"I used to be amused, sometimes, by the expressions you used."
+
+"I don't wonder, sir. I must have talked like a young barbarian; but I
+am grateful to God for having raised me above my former ignorance."
+
+"It is determined, then, that you will prosecute your claims. How do
+you propose to do it?"
+
+"I must first go to St. Louis and see my uncle again."
+
+"Does he live in St. Louis?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"How do you know? Did he tell you so?"
+
+"No, sir. But I read it on the hotel register, at the hotel."
+
+"Did he register himself before he first met you?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Where was he before?"
+
+"I don't know, sir."
+
+"Then what reason have you to think that he registered correctly? Why
+did he change his hotel? I may be wrong, but it strikes me that it was
+intended as a blind to deceive you. Your uncle is a shrewd man, and he
+would understand the importance of keeping his real residence concealed
+from one who had in his power to prosecute a claim against him
+involving nearly his whole fortune."
+
+"Then you don't think he lives in St. Louis, Mr. Ferguson?"
+
+"I don't think he does."
+
+Gilbert looked blank.
+
+"That interferes with my plans," he said. "I meant to ask a month's
+leave of absence from you, and go to St. Louis and see what I could
+do."
+
+"That would take money."
+
+"I have saved up about eight hundred dollars," said Gilbert.
+
+"Eight hundred dollars?" repeated his employer, surprised. "How was it
+possible for you to save so much?"
+
+"I have no board to pay. My roommate is rich, and I was the means of
+doing him a service which he repays in that way."
+
+"I congratulate you, Gilbert. It speaks well for your habits that you
+have laid aside so much money. I was about to offer you a loan."
+
+"Thank you very much, Mr. Ferguson," said Gilbert, gratefully; "but I
+don't think I shall need it. I shall have money enough, but that is not
+all. From what you say, I am afraid, if I went to St. Louis, it would
+only be a wild-goose chase."
+
+"Stay," said Mr. Ferguson, after a moment's thought; "an idea strikes
+me. You may gain the knowledge you want with very little trouble. Mind,
+I say _may_. It is not certain."
+
+"How, sir?" said Gilbert, eagerly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+MAURICE BETRAYS HIMSELF.
+
+
+"In this way," answered Mr. Ferguson. "Your uncle did not register his
+name at the Burnet House till after his encounter with you in the
+street. Probably his reason for changing his hotel was to prevent your
+examining the register of the one at which he was previously staying,
+and so ascertaining his real residence. The same motive would lead him
+to give the wrong address in the new hotel."
+
+"Yes, sir; that seems likely, but how is that going to help me?"
+
+"You must try to ascertain where he formerly stopped. Go to the
+principal hotels, and examine their registers for a fortnight back.
+Probably that will cover all the time in which your uncle is likely to
+have arrived."
+
+"Yes, I see," said Gilbert, brightening up. "It is a good plan, and I
+think it will succeed."
+
+"I hope so, for your sake."
+
+Gilbert lost no time in following out his employer's suggestion. First,
+he went to the Gibson House; but he examined the books to no purpose.
+He looked back as far as twenty days, but could not find the name of
+James Grey.
+
+"He can't have stopped at this hotel," he said to himself.
+
+Next he went to the Spencer House. It occurred to him that possibly his
+uncle's name might be recognized, so he asked the clerk:
+
+"Has a gentleman named James Grey stopped with you lately?"
+
+"Grey? I believe so," said the clerk, after a moment's reflection. "He
+left us about a week since."
+
+"Yes, it is the same," said Gilbert, eagerly. "Was he here long?"
+
+"Only two or three days."
+
+This, of course, made the examination easy. In point of fact, ten days
+back Gilbert found recorded on the books:
+
+James Grey, Clayton, Illinois.
+
+"Clayton, Illinois," repeated Gilbert; "that's a place I never heard
+of. I wonder where it is? It can't be much of a place. Can you tell me
+in what part of Illinois Clayton is?" he inquired of the clerk.
+
+"Never heard of it," said that official, indifferently.
+
+"Clayton, Illinois?" said a gentleman who had just come up to leave his
+key. "I can tell you where it is."
+
+"Where, sir?"
+
+"It is a small town on the Mississippi river, north of Alton--I should
+think about thirty or forty miles. I never was there, but I've passed
+it while ascending the river on a steamboat."
+
+"Thank you, sir," said our hero.
+
+As may be supposed, he was not a little elated at his discovery. In
+spite of James Grey's prudent precautions, his nephew felt that he had
+not been shrewd enough. St. Louis had not answered the purpose. The
+insignificant place where he had supposed himself safe from pursuit,
+was now known, and Gilbert determined that there should be no cessation
+of hostilities. He was resolved to follow up the attack, and force his
+uncle to do him justice.
+
+Meanwhile Maurice Walton could not but observe that something was going
+on. He noticed Gilbert's absence from the store, and his frequent
+interviews with Mr. Ferguson, and rightly inferred that they had
+something to do with James Grey.
+
+"I wonder if he has found out the loss of the paper?" he thought. "He
+must have discovered it, and that's why he is in such a flutter. If
+it's spoilt his chances, so much the better. I owe him a grudge, and,
+if I've put a spoke in his wheel, I shall be glad."
+
+One incident, having its effect upon the narrative, has not yet been
+recorded.
+
+When James Grey left the hotel, carpet-bag in hand, he chanced to meet
+Maurice, just before he took a hack to the depot. An idea flashed upon
+him that Maurice might be useful to him as a spy upon his nephew, and
+might be engaged to watch and give him timely notice of his movements.
+He therefore paused, and Maurice perceived that he wished to speak with
+him.
+
+"Good-day, sir," he said.
+
+"Good-day. I am glad to meet you, for I have something to say to you.
+That paper you brought me was not the right one."
+
+"Not the right one?" repeated Maurice, in alarm, for he thought Mr.
+Grey was about to demand back the hundred dollars, which he would have
+been very sorry to surrender.
+
+"No; the rascal had been cunning enough to put the original in Mr.
+Ferguson's safe, and leave only a copy in his trunk. The paper you
+brought me was the copy."
+
+"Does Gilbert say so?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Perhaps he lies."
+
+"So I thought; but the date on the paper confirms his story."
+
+"It wasn't my fault. I think I earned the money."
+
+"You can keep it. I have no intention of asking it back; but I shall
+want to employ you further."
+
+"To get the paper from the safe?"
+
+"Can you do it?"
+
+"I am afraid not. If I were caught doing it, I should be dismissed, and
+perhaps arrested."
+
+"If you succeed, I will give you another hundred dollars."
+
+"I should like the money."
+
+"Watch for a good chance. You may be able to do it unobserved."
+
+"Are you going to leave the city?"
+
+"Yes, I leave at once."
+
+"Suppose I get the paper--what shall I do with it?"
+
+"Send it by mail to my address."
+
+"Where is that, sir?"
+
+"Can I rely upon you not to communicate it to Gilbert Grey? It would do
+him a great deal of good."
+
+"Then I certainly won't tell him," said Maurice, decidedly.
+
+Knowing the state of feeling between Maurice and his nephew, Mr. Grey
+felt satisfied with this assurance.
+
+"I don't want you even to put it on paper," he continued. "Gilbert
+might get hold of it. You can remember it without."
+
+"Very well, sir."
+
+"It is Clayton, Illinois, to the north of Alton, on the river. Now, can
+you remember Clayton?"
+
+"I will think of Henry Clay."
+
+"That will be a good reminder. As to the State, you are not very likely
+to forget that. Now, if you find the paper, inclose it in an envelope,
+and mail it to JAMES GREY, Clayton, Illinois. As soon as I receive it,
+I will send you, or bring you, a hundred dollars."
+
+"Very well, sir; I will try, but I am not sure whether I shall succeed.
+It's harder than the other job."
+
+"Are you suspected of that?"
+
+"I don't think so."
+
+"That is not all. I shall want to learn about the fellow's movements.
+He may be planning some conspiracy, of which it is important that I
+should be apprised. Now, you are in the same office, and likely to know
+what is going on."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"I want you to watch carefully, and, whenever you learn anything worthy
+my knowing, write me immediately, to the address I have given you. See
+if you remember it."
+
+"Clayton, Illinois."
+
+"For every letter containing information of value, I will send you ten
+dollars. I shall not write direct from Clayton, lest the letter be
+seen, but I will manage to have my letters posted from St. Louis. That
+is where Gilbert supposes I am living."
+
+"Perhaps you had better direct to my boarding-place, and not to the
+store."
+
+"A good suggestion. Give me your address."
+
+James Grey took it down in his memorandum book.
+
+"I believe that is all," he said. "Remain faithful to my interests," he
+added, "and I will take care you do not regret it."
+
+"I shall not regret it, if it interferes with Gilbert Grey."
+
+"If you are his enemy, you cannot harm him more than by devoting
+yourself to my service."
+
+"I will do it."
+
+James Grey now hurried away, and Maurice went back to the store. He
+thought himself unsuspected of the theft of the paper, but he did not
+long remain so, and it was through his own imprudence that it happened.
+
+The black mustache which he had used as a disguise he thrust carelessly
+in his vest pocket. One day in the store, in drawing out his watch-key,
+the mustache came too, and dropped on the floor.
+
+Maurice stooped hastily to pick it up, but not till Gilbert had seen
+it. The latter at once remembered the servant's description of the
+young man who called for his opera-glass.
+
+"How long have you had that mustache, Maurice?" he asked, pointedly.
+
+"I bought it yesterday," muttered Maurice, in confusion.
+
+"I thought you might have had it longer," said Gilbert, quietly.
+
+Maurice did not answer.
+
+"Now I know who stole the paper," thought our hero. "I must be on my
+guard against him."
+
+He said nothing further; but Maurice knew that he was suspected, and it
+only incensed him the more against his fellow-clerk.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+MAURICE AND BESSIE BENTON.
+
+
+Gilbert could not help wondering how Maurice and Mr. James Grey were
+brought together, and how it happened that the former became his
+uncle's agent and accomplice. He knew, however, that Maurice never
+liked him, and guessed that this had been an inducement.
+
+"I wonder," he thought, "if there is any chance of his communicating my
+plans to Mr. Grey? It will be best for me to keep him in ignorance of
+my destination."
+
+When, therefore, he was ready to start, he resolved only to tell him
+that he was going to St. Louis. This was, in truth, his first
+destination, but, as we know, he intended to go farther.
+
+Maurice, who didn't before know of Gilbert's plans, was surprised when
+the latter walked up to him and said:
+
+"I must bid you good-by for a time, Maurice."
+
+"Are you going away?" exclaimed his fellow-clerk, staring at him in
+amazement.
+
+"Yes, I am going away for a short time."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"To St. Louis."
+
+"On business for Mr. Ferguson?"
+
+"No, it is on my own business."
+
+"I suppose it has something to do with his uncle," thought Maurice, but
+he thought it most prudent not to say this.
+
+"How long do you expect to be gone?" he asked.
+
+"I don't know--it depends on how successful I am."
+
+"Bessie Benton will miss you," said Maurice, sarcastically.
+
+"So she said," answered Gilbert quietly, appreciating his motive.
+
+"When did you see her?" asked Maurice, with a twinge of jealousy.
+
+"Last evening."
+
+This made Maurice feel very uncomfortable. Bessie had grown very
+pretty, and he admired her more than ever, but with a strange
+perversity, as he thought, she didn't appear to reciprocate the
+feeling. On the other hand, she appeared to care a good deal more for
+Gilbert's society than for that of Maurice. It came to him now, with a
+feeling of joy, that when Gilbert was away Bessie would naturally turn
+to him for companionship.
+
+"I think I shall go up there this evening myself," he said. (It must be
+explained that Maurice no longer boarded at his uncle's.) "If you have
+any message to send, I can take it."
+
+"Give Bessie my love," said Gilbert, a little mischievously, knowing
+that Maurice would never carry such a message.
+
+"I will _remember_ you to _Miss Benton_," said Maurice, with dignity.
+
+"Oh! don't take the trouble," said Gilbert, carelessly; "it isn't at
+all necessary."
+
+"Then I won't."
+
+"Just as you please."
+
+"I never saw such an amount of _cheek_ in my life," said Maurice to
+himself. "I've a great mind to drop a hint to Bessie. She notices him
+altogether too much."
+
+So Maurice, fulfilling his determination of calling that evening,
+managed to introduce the subject.
+
+"Gilbert Grey called on you last evening, didn't he?"
+
+"Yes; he is going away. He came to say good-by."
+
+"I sha'n't miss him much."
+
+"Why not? Are you not a good deal together?"
+
+"In the store we are together. Out of it, I don't care to keep his
+company."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"He isn't my style."
+
+"If it means that he does not resemble you, Maurice, I think you are
+right."
+
+"He is very much stuck up."
+
+"Really, Maurice--I hope you will excuse my saying it--I think that
+charge could be brought against you more justly."
+
+"Do you mean to say I am stuck up?" asked Maurice, indignantly.
+
+"Perhaps it is only your manner."
+
+"But do you think I seem so?"
+
+"More than Gilbert."
+
+"You seem very familiar with Grey, to call him Gilbert."
+
+"Of course I am familiar with him. Why shouldn't I be?"
+
+"It doesn't show very good taste on your part."
+
+"I don't know about that. Gilbert is popular in society. You know that
+at parties he never has any difficulty in filling up his card."
+
+Maurice did know that at the parties when both were present, Gilbert
+was received with much more favor than himself, and this was one of the
+circumstances that made him angry with his fellow-clerk. Few can pardon
+a wound to their self-love.
+
+"It only shows that humbugs flourish best in the world," he said.
+
+"Do you call Gilbert a humbug?" asked Bessie, her fair face flushed
+with indignation.
+
+"Yes, I do."
+
+"Then," she said, spiritedly, "it only shows your jealousy and envy of
+him, because he is better looking and more popular than you. Jealousy
+is hateful, I think," said the little lady, tossing her head with
+emphasis.
+
+"I hope when I am jealous it will be of somebody better than Gilbert
+Grey," said Maurice, angry and mortified because Bessie had referred to
+Gilbert as better looking and more popular than himself.
+
+"It seems to me you are making yourself very disagreeable to-night,
+Maurice," said his cousin, pettishly.
+
+"If you knew what an impudent message he sent to you, you might change
+your mind about him."
+
+"What impudent message did he send? I don't believe he sent any."
+
+"Then you're mistaken. He said, with his own lips, 'Give my love to
+Bessie.'"
+
+A smile rippled over the face of Bessie Benton, and there was a little
+blush, too. Evidently she was not at all displeased at the message.
+
+"Was that the impudent message you spoke of?" she asked.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then I don't see what impudence there is in it."
+
+"What right had he to call you Bessie?"
+
+"Don't you call me Bessie?"
+
+"That's different--I am your cousin."
+
+"Well, I call him Gilbert. So we're even."
+
+"He had no right to send you his love. It isn't proper."
+
+"Really, Maurice, I ought to be very much obliged to you for taking
+such good care of me, and teaching me what's proper, and what isn't.
+But, if you don't think the message a proper one, what made you give it
+to me?" she asked, smiling.
+
+"I wish I hadn't," thought Maurice, who began to see that he had been
+hurried by his anger into making a mistake.
+
+"I thought you would resent it," he said, aloud.
+
+"You can give Gilbert my love, when you write to him," said his cousin,
+provokingly.
+
+"I sha'n't write to him; and, if I did, I wouldn't send him that
+message."
+
+"You are very obliging."
+
+"If you knew as much of Gilbert Grey as I do, you wouldn't think so
+much of him."
+
+"Do you know anything very dreadful about him?" asked Bessie,
+incredulously.
+
+"I know why he has gone to St. Louis."
+
+"Is it to commit murder, or robbery, or for any other dreadful reason?"
+
+"It is to commit robbery!"
+
+"Don't make a fool of yourself, Maurice Walton," said Bessie, sharply.
+
+"I don't know what else you can call it," persisted Maurice. "He is
+going to try to get possession of some property that don't belong to
+him."
+
+"I don't believe it."
+
+"He knows of a rich gentleman of the same name, and he has forged a
+paper, and is trying to make out that he is his nephew, though it is
+well known that the nephew died years ago."
+
+"Is that his reason for going to St. Louis?" asked Bessie, interested.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How do you know?--did he tell you?"
+
+"I have the best authority for my statements," said Maurice, who, for
+reasons known to the reader, did not like to tell how he gained the
+information; "but I am not at liberty to say more."
+
+"You are very mysterious."
+
+"What I have told you is the truth. If you don't call it robbery, I
+do."
+
+"All I have got to say is, that if Gilbert claims to be anybody's
+nephew, I have no doubt he is. He wouldn't forge a paper for anything."
+
+"That's where you and I don't agree."
+
+"I think it's rather mean of you, Maurice Walton, to come here to
+slander a friend."
+
+"He isn't my friend. Perhaps he is yours."
+
+"You are right there," said Bessie, firmly. "He is my friend."
+
+"Perhaps, when he gets that fortune, you'll marry him?" said Maurice,
+sarcastically.
+
+"He hasn't asked me yet," said Bessie, blushing.
+
+This was too much for Maurice. He began to see that Bessie liked
+Gilbert more than he suspected, and that, by his blundering, he had
+only helped matters along. He sulkily bade his cousin good-night, and,
+returning home, bethought himself of his promise to Mr. Grey, and,
+though it was late, sat down and wrote him a letter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+JAMES GREY'S RESIDENCE.
+
+
+About a mile from the bank of the Mississippi River, in the small town
+of Clayton, stood a handsome house. It was on a commanding site, and
+could be seen by the travelers bound up the river, from the decks of
+the large river-boats. It stood in lonely grandeur, with no other
+houses very near, and those that were within a respectful distance from
+it were far inferior. The occupant might be judged to be, in his
+neighborhood, a person of some consideration.
+
+This was the mansion of James Grey, already introduced to our readers.
+
+What motives had led him to pitch his tent in such a spot, can only be
+conjectured. He came thither directly from the city of Cincinnati,
+having lived in a hotel near by while he hurried the erection of this
+house. He came thither with his son, (his wife was dead), and had lived
+there ever since, though, from time to time, he absented himself on a
+trip to St. Louis, or, in rarer instances, Cincinnati. It is not
+unlikely that, knowing himself to be guilty of a fraudulent
+appropriation of his nephew's property, he had chosen to withdraw from
+the busy world, and plant himself in this comparatively obscure place,
+where he was not likely to be visited by any one cognizant of the
+manner in which he obtained his money.
+
+Indeed, until his visit to New York, three years before, he had not
+supposed there was any one living so cognizant. He had seen a rumor
+that the vessel in which Jacob and his young charge went out to
+Australia was wrecked, and he imagined, or rather hoped, and so
+persuaded himself, that his dangerous nephew and his guilty accomplice
+were dead. But his recognition of the boy who blacked his boots on the
+steps of the Astor House undeceived him as to this point. Still, it
+seemed altogether unlikely that the boy would ever become aware of his
+identity.
+
+"If he does," thought James Grey, "he is not likely to find me here on
+the banks of the Mississippi, fifteen hundred miles away."
+
+According to the doctrine of probabilities, he was doubtless correct.
+It was not likely, but then events often bid defiance to the
+probabilities, and such was the case now.
+
+At the time we introduce Mr. Grey at home, he was sitting at breakfast
+in a handsome breakfast-room, from the windows of which the river was
+visible. He held in his hand a copy of a St. Louis morning paper of the
+morning previous, and was reading its columns, while sipping a cup of
+coffee at his side.
+
+A boy of seventeen entered the room.
+
+"You are very late, Jasper," said his father, consulting his watch.
+"Can't you get to breakfast earlier than ten o'clock, sir?"
+
+Jasper was dark and effeminate in appearance, not strong and sturdy,
+nor had he the look of self-reliance and calm power which characterized
+our hero, who was his cousin. He was smooth, deceitful, and vain,
+running to dissipation, as far as he had opportunity.
+
+"I was tired, sir," he answered.
+
+"What made you tired?"
+
+"I didn't get home till late last evening."
+
+"Where had you been?"
+
+"I was at Alton."
+
+"Without my permission," said his father, frowning.
+
+"I am seventeen, sir. I am old enough to go off by myself."
+
+"By heavens, you are not!" said his father, angrily. "It seems to me,
+sir, you are getting mighty independent."
+
+"There is nothing to do here in this hole," said Jasper, disdainfully.
+"I get tired of moping here."
+
+"I manage to content myself here," said Mr. Grey.
+
+"I don't see how you do it," said Jasper, shrugging his shoulders.
+
+"Well, what did you do at Alton?"
+
+"Not much. I just went up there in the morning, and came back at night.
+I didn't have long to stay."
+
+"I missed you at dinner, but thought you were out riding."
+
+"I am going out to ride after breakfast. By the way, father, can you
+give me a little money?"
+
+"Money! I gave you twenty-five dollars three days since."
+
+"I haven't got a dime left."
+
+"What did you do with it, you young spendthrift? Gambled on the boat, I
+dare say."
+
+"Well, I had a little game," answered Jasper, coolly.
+
+"And lost?"
+
+"Yes, I lost."
+
+"Of course. You are too green to cope with the sharpers that infest
+those boats. Haven't I forbidden you to play?"
+
+"There was nothing else to do."
+
+"You appear to pay very slight regard to my commands. In return I shall
+allow you to know what it is to be penniless for a time."
+
+"Won't you give me any money, father?"
+
+"No, I won't."
+
+Jasper looked dark and sullen. He was an utterly spoiled boy, if one
+can be called spoiled, who had so few good qualities which admitted of
+being spoiled. He inherited his father's bad traits, his selfishness
+and unscrupulousness, in addition to a spirit of deceitfulness and
+hypocrisy from his mother's nature. He was not as censurable as he
+would have been had he not possessed these bad tendencies.
+
+He finished his breakfast and went out.
+
+"That's a model son to have--a son to be proud of," soliloquized his
+father. "He is already a gambler, a liar, and cares for me only as I
+have it in my power to promote his selfish ends. I have let him grow up
+like an evil weed, and I am afraid he will some day disgrace me."
+
+Though himself unscrupulous and bad, Mr. Grey would have been glad to
+have his son better than himself. In his secret heart he felt the
+superiority of Gilbert to his cousin. Yet Jasper, with all his faults,
+was his son, and the wily father schemed to secure to him the property
+which belonged to his nephew.
+
+He was interrupted by the entrance of a colored servant.
+
+Pompey had originally been a slave, as he showed by his language at
+times.
+
+"Well, Pompey, have you been to the post-office?"
+
+"Yes, sar."
+
+"I suppose you found a paper for me, didn't you?"
+
+"No, massa, didn't see nothing of no paper," said Pompey; "but I found
+this letter," and he displayed a letter in a yellow envelope.
+
+"Give it to me."
+
+Mr. Grey took it in his hand, and saw that it was post-marked
+"Cincinnati." The handwriting he did not recognize. His curiosity was
+aroused.
+
+"You can go, Pompey," he said, waving his hand.
+
+"I'm gone, massa."
+
+James Grey tore open the letter hastily, and turned at once to the
+signature.
+
+"Maurice Walton!" he repeated. "Why that's my young spy. It must be
+about my nephew."
+
+He read with eager interest:
+
+    "DEAR SIR:--(so it commenced) You asked me to write you if anything
+    happened. I think you will like to know that your nephew, Gilbert
+    Grey, if he is your nephew, which I doubt, has just left here for
+    St. Louis. I suppose, from what I can learn, that he is in search
+    of you. I don't think he has any idea where you really live. He has
+    not learned from me, for I hate him, and I won't tell him anything
+    he wants to know. I didn't know but you might happen to be in St.
+    Louis, so I write to put you on your guard. I hope you will write
+    to me, so that I may know this letter went straight.
+
+    "Yours, respectfully,
+
+    "MAURICE WALTON."
+
+"He wants me to write to him, inclosing ten dollars," thought James
+Grey. "Well, he shall not be disappointed. His information is worth
+that. So my young nephew is on the trail is he? He really thinks he is
+a match for me. Well, well, we shall see. He mustn't push his inquiries
+too far, or he may find me dangerous," and Mr. Grey's face assumed a
+dark and threatening look. "However, he is not likely to find me in
+this out-of-the-way place."
+
+Mr. Grey went into his library, and penned a short letter to Maurice
+Walton, commending him for his watchfulness, and inclosing a ten-dollar
+greenback.
+
+He had scarcely finished the letter when Pompey entered, and said:
+
+"Scuse me, massa, but there's a young gemman below that axes to see
+you."
+
+"A young gentleman!" repeated Mr. Grey. "Can it be my nephew?" flashed
+through his mind with sudden suspicion.
+
+"Bring him up, Pompey," he said, aloud.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+THE GUEST OF HIS ENEMY.
+
+
+While Pompey was gone to seek Gilbert and invite him to the library,
+James Grey gave the time to rapid reflection. He saw that our hero was
+a determined and dangerous opponent. He had not credited him with such
+courage and perseverance. He thought that, being a mere boy, he would
+be easily intimidated--that opposition and difficulty would daunt him.
+But he had hardly reached home, and his nephew was already on his
+track.
+
+"How could he have found out my residence?" thought he. "Maurice Walton
+wouldn't tell him. He must be sharper than I supposed."
+
+When intimidation and force fail, a good general has recourse to
+strategy. James Grey was a man of expedients, and he rapidly decided
+upon a change of base. When, therefore, Gilbert entered the library,
+expecting an angry reception, he was astonished by seeing his uncle
+rise from his chair and advance to meet him with hand outstretched.
+
+"Good-morning," he said, smiling. "How did you find your way here?"
+
+"I accidentally learned where you lived, Mr. Grey."
+
+"Precisely so. I was quite sure I had not mentioned my address to you."
+
+"No, sir, you did not."
+
+"It was an oversight on my part. Did you have a pleasant journey from
+Cincinnati?"
+
+"Quite pleasant, sir."
+
+"Are you traveling on business?"
+
+"On business with you, sir. That is all."
+
+"So I supposed. Well, I am glad to see you. We are a small family, and
+lonely. I hope you will stay with us a few days."
+
+"As your guest?" inquired our hero, much surprised.
+
+"Yes. That will enable us to transact this business at our leisure."
+
+"I shouldn't think you would invite me to your house," said Gilbert, in
+surprise.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"You think I am an impostor."
+
+"I don't feel sure of that."
+
+"You said so in the city."
+
+"I thought so in the city," said Mr. Grey, with apparent frankness.
+"Since I returned home I have been turning the matter over in my mind,
+and I don't feel so certain about it. You may be deceived."
+
+"I know I am not," said Gilbert, firmly.
+
+"Of course, you think so, my young friend. We won't dispute about it. I
+only want to find out the truth, and if you can prove your claim beyond
+any question I will do what is right. But there must be no doubt of
+it."
+
+"Of course, that is fair enough."
+
+"It seemed to me incredible that a son of my brother John should be
+living, and as he left some property, I thought that you might be
+playing a sharp game. You mustn't be offended at my plain speaking," he
+added, with a smile.
+
+"No, sir; certainly not. I am in favor of plain speaking. But I hope
+you will in time have a more favorable opinion of me."
+
+"I have already, or I would not invite you to become my guest. Have you
+your luggage with you?"
+
+"Only a carpet-bag."
+
+"Where is that?"
+
+"At the village hotel."
+
+"That is a poor place. You must stay here, and I will send for it."
+
+"I don't know what to say," said Gilbert, not yet recovered from his
+astonishment.
+
+"Then I will say for you that you accept without hesitation."
+
+"Thank you, sir."
+
+Mr. Grey rang the bell, and Pompey appeared.
+
+"What's wanted, massa?"
+
+"Send Dick to the hotel for this young gentleman's carpet-bag."
+
+"Yes, sar. What name, sar?"
+
+"Gilbert Grey," answered our hero.
+
+"Any 'lation?" asked Pompey, with the freedom of a favorite servant.
+
+"Mr. Grey thinks there is a relationship," said the uncle. "Now be off,
+and tell Dick to make haste."
+
+"By the way, though it is early to enter upon business, have you
+brought old Jacob's confession?" asked James Grey, in an indifferent
+tone; but he awaited the answer with a good deal of interest.
+
+"No, sir; that is, not the genuine paper. I have with me a copy."
+
+"That will do as well," said the other, but he could not wholly hide
+the disappointment in his voice. "Let me see it, if you please."
+
+Gilbert drew the paper from his pocket and handed it without hesitation
+to his uncle.
+
+"If you have no objection I will keep this for a while, and look over
+it in private."
+
+"Certainly, sir. You may keep it permanently. I have the other."
+
+"Confound you, I know that only too well," thought the uncle, but he
+only expressed his thanks quietly.
+
+"You probably know nothing of my family," continued James Grey, "though
+as a possible relation, you should do so. My wife is dead, and I have
+but one child, a boy of about your own age. Jasper is seventeen."
+
+"I am about eighteen."
+
+"He does not look at all like you, or me either. He favors his mother's
+family, being quite dark. I think also he is more like his mother in
+disposition than like me. I hope you will like him."
+
+"I hope so," said our hero, politely.
+
+"I can't say he altogether pleases me," said James Grey. "He is not as
+obedient and observant of my wishes as he should be. For example, he
+went to Alton yesterday without permission, and lost all his money on
+hand by gaming. I hope you never gamble, Gilbert."
+
+"No, sir, I don't approve of it."
+
+"You are quite right. I foresee you will have a good influence on
+Jasper--I was about to say, on your cousin, Jasper--but I will wait
+till that is proved."
+
+"I will not call him cousin while there remains a doubt."
+
+"Quite right. I will give my earliest attention to the matter."
+
+"I hope you will, sir, as I wish to return to Cincinnati."
+
+"If you prove yourself to be my brother's son, there will be no need of
+that, for the greater part of my property will go to you. You will be
+independent."
+
+"I should be sorry to deprive you of property, sir, though I have no
+objection to becoming rich."
+
+"Of course not. We all want to be rich. I shall not blame you for being
+my brother's son, if it appears that you are so. How long can you
+remain with us?"
+
+"I won't set a limit, sir. Do you think I can get away in a week?"
+
+"That is a short time."
+
+"I can stay longer if necessary."
+
+"I may need to go to Alton, to consult my lawyer. After examining this
+paper, which, I suppose, is an exact copy of the original?"
+
+"Yes, sir, exact."
+
+"He will give me his opinion, which I will at once communicate to you.
+Probably it will not be in my power to go to Alton for several days."
+
+"I don't wish to hurry you too much, Mr. Grey. That will be
+satisfactory to me."
+
+"Very well. Now there is one other thing I wish to speak of. Of course
+I can't acknowledge you as my nephew immediately."
+
+"I do not ask it, sir."
+
+"It will be better that your claim to be my nephew should not be made
+public. I will tell my son, Jasper, and ask him to treat you as a
+cousin. He will, I think, be able to make you pass your time agreeably.
+But to the servants you will be Mr. Grey, a distant relative."
+
+"Very well, sir, I agree."
+
+"Of course, just as soon as your claim is substantiated, there will be
+no further need of concealment. By the way, do you ride?"
+
+"Yes, sir, a little."
+
+"I think you will enjoy exploring the country a little with Jasper. You
+never were in this neighborhood before?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"It won't do you any harm to have a little vacation. By the way, how is
+Mr. Ferguson, your employer?"
+
+"He is well, sir."
+
+"Is he aware of the object of your present journey?"
+
+"Yes, sir. He was in favor of my undertaking it."
+
+"For which I don't in the least thank him," said James Grey to himself.
+
+There was a little more desultory conversation, which was interrupted
+by the entrance of Pompey with our hero's carpet-bag, which his
+fellow-servant had brought from the village hotel, if it deserved the
+name.
+
+"Pompey, you may conduct this young gentleman to his room. He may wish
+to wash before dinner. Dinner is at one, Mr. Grey."
+
+"Thank you, sir."
+
+"Put him in the blue room, Pompey."
+
+"Yes, sar."
+
+Gilbert followed him up stairs, and into a room finished and furnished
+throughout in blue. It was comfortable, and even elegant, and our hero
+saw that he was likely to be well cared for.
+
+"Was you a 'lation, sar?" asked Pompey, who possessed an inquiring
+mind, as he put down the bag.
+
+"Yes," said Gilbert.
+
+"A near 'lation?" asked Pompey, continuing his catechism.
+
+"I can't tell you how near," said our hero, in an equivocal manner.
+
+"You must be 'bout Massa Jasper's age."
+
+"That is what Mr. Grey says. I have not seen Jasper yet."
+
+"He went out ridin'. He's fond of ridin'."
+
+"Is he a good rider?"
+
+"Pretty good, sar. He thinks he's first-rate," added Pompey, laughing.
+"Do you ride, sar?"
+
+"A little."
+
+"Maybe you'll ride out with Massa Jasper?"
+
+"Has my--Mr. Grey got many horses?"
+
+"Four, sar. Two are carriage horses, and two are for ridin'. But I'm
+'ruptin' you, sar. Dinner at one o'clock."
+
+"I will be punctual."
+
+"I like his looks," said Pompey. "He's better-lookin' than Massa
+Jasper. Looks like he was better-tempered, too."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+GILBERT AND JASPER.
+
+
+Gilbert went to the window and looked out. He was glad to find that it
+afforded him a prospect of the Mississippi, a mile distant. He could
+not help speculating on the singular position in which he found himself
+placed. He had come to this place expecting to receive abuse and
+defiance from his uncle. On the other hand he had been politely
+welcomed, and was now a guest. He didn't understand it, but he was glad
+of it. He was prepared to contend, but he would much prefer to
+compromise in a friendly manner. His uncle had wronged him, but he was
+not vindictive.
+
+Meanwhile Jasper, who had been out to the stables, returned to the
+house and entered his father's presence. He only came in for something
+he had left in the library, but his father detained him.
+
+"Stop a minute, Jasper," he said. "I want to speak to you."
+
+Jasper turned unwillingly, for he anticipated some remonstrance or
+criticism upon his conduct.
+
+"I wanted to go out," he said.
+
+"I wish to speak to you on a matter of importance," said his father,
+seriously.
+
+"Now for a blowing up," thought Jasper. "I suppose I must grin and bear
+it."
+
+But this time he was mistaken.
+
+"You are going to have company for a few days," said James Grey.
+
+"Who is it?" asked Jasper, in surprise.
+
+"A boy of about your own age. He is up stairs preparing for dinner at
+this moment."
+
+"Is it any one I know?"
+
+"It is not."
+
+"What is his name?"
+
+"He calls himself Gilbert Grey."
+
+"Is he any relation?"
+
+"He calls himself your cousin."
+
+"Why do you say 'calls himself?'" inquired Jasper, in some
+mystification.
+
+"Because I do not propose to admit his claim. While he is here, he will
+pass as a distant relative."
+
+"I don't understand, father. Is his claim a false one?"
+
+"Listen, Jasper, for it is fitting that you should know all, since you
+are quite as much interested as I am. Do you remember your Uncle John?"
+
+"No. I was too young when he died to remember him."
+
+"It was he that was wealthy, not I. I had a comparatively small
+interest in the firm, but as he died childless I succeeded naturally to
+his property. That made me rich, and ever since I have been possessed
+of large means. But if he had left a son, all this would have been
+changed. The son would have inherited the bulk of his property, and I
+should have received an inconsiderable legacy. Do you follow me?"
+
+"Yes, sir, but I don't see the force of it. My uncle left no son."
+
+"Gilbert Grey, as he calls himself, contends that he did leave a son,
+and he claims to be that son."
+
+"But it is a lie," said Jasper, hastily.
+
+"Of course, but you understand the motive."
+
+"That he may deprive us of the property."
+
+"Precisely."
+
+"Why don't you kick him out of the house?" exclaimed Jasper,
+indignantly. "Of course he is an impostor, and deserves no better
+treatment."
+
+"I will tell you why. He is very artful, and has forged a pretended
+confession, and attached to it the signature of an old clerk of our
+house, who disappeared about the time my nephew was lost, asserting his
+identity with the lost boy, and charging that I employed him to kidnap
+the boy, in order that I might succeed to the property."
+
+Jasper fixed a fierce glance upon his father. He had never loved or
+respected him particularly, and a suspicion entered his mind that the
+charge might be a true one. But, if admitted, it would reduce him to
+comparative poverty, and he had no intention of suffering his suspicion
+to appear. In this matter, at least, he and his father were in entire
+agreement.
+
+"But, father," he said, after a pause, "can't you prove that it is a
+forgery?"
+
+"Possibly, but I don't want the matter to come to trial. There are
+always people, who out of sentimental sympathy would be led to suspect
+that the rich uncle was guilty of defrauding the poor boy."
+
+"When did you first hear of his claim, father?"
+
+"A short time since, during my recent visit to Cincinnati. I defied him
+then, and left the city without letting him know my address. But he is
+evidently shrewd and determined, and he has managed, in some way which
+I cannot fathom, to discover it. He has followed me up, and here he
+is."
+
+"What do you mean to do?"
+
+"I find force won't do. He is full of courage, pluck, and
+determination, and so is an enemy to be dreaded. I am going to try an
+opposite course."
+
+"You are not going to give up?"
+
+"No, certainly not. I am going to pretend friendship, and having put
+him off his guard, to get rid of his claim as well as I can. The
+property I will never surrender, as long as there is a possibility of
+retaining it," he concluded, firmly.
+
+"I agree with you there, father. So you have invited him to stop here?"
+
+"Yes, and the better to carry out my designs, I want you to act in a
+particularly friendly manner."
+
+"I will if I can, but I know I shall hate him."
+
+"If you dislike him, adopt the course most likely to injure him."
+
+"You are right, father. I will follow your advice."
+
+"Of course, anything that I communicate to you in this matter must be
+kept secret for both our sakes. Have I your promise?"
+
+"You have."
+
+"Then come here."
+
+Jasper drew near his father, and the latter spoke in a lower voice.
+
+"You are a good rider," he said.
+
+"Yes, I can ride as well as any one of my age in the country," said
+Jasper, proudly.
+
+"Good! Gilbert Grey says he can ride also."
+
+"I am not afraid of his rivalry."
+
+"I am going to send him out to ride with you. You will ride your own
+horse; he shall ride--Bucephalus."
+
+"Bucephalus, father! He is a vicious beast. I wouldn't dare to ride him
+myself, and I have no doubt I can ride better than he."
+
+"I would not trust you on him, Jasper. As for Gilbert, I have no
+particular reason to feel concerned for his safety."
+
+The eyes of the father and son met, and the glance was that of mutual
+understanding.
+
+"Indeed," added Mr. Grey, "if he should be thrown off, and break his
+neck, I shouldn't particularly mind. It would rid us both of a
+dangerous enemy."
+
+"That's so," said Jasper. "It's a capital idea! When shall we ride?"
+
+"To-morrow morning, if it is pleasant. This afternoon you may have the
+carriage, and drive him round the neighborhood. Be as friendly as you
+can. Don't let him suspect anything from your manner."
+
+"I won't. You can trust me for that, father."
+
+"Hush! I hear his steps descending the stairs. I will introduce you."
+
+Gilbert, unsuspicious of the wicked plot that had been entered into
+against him, entered the room at this moment.
+
+"Gilbert," said his uncle, graciously, "let me introduce to you my son,
+Jasper. He must be near your own age. He has promised to do what he can
+to make your stay pleasant."
+
+"I am glad to meet you, Mr. Grey," said Jasper, advancing with a smile,
+and speaking in a soft voice. "I have scarcely any companions of my own
+age, and I shall enjoy your society."
+
+"Thank you," said Gilbert; "I am much obliged to you for your kind
+reception. I don't think we shall be strangers long."
+
+They talked on various subjects till the bell rang for dinner. No fault
+could be found with Jasper's manner, which was extremely cordial; yet
+Gilbert, he could not tell why, was not attracted to his cousin.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+DECEITFUL HOSPITALITY.
+
+
+Jasper was now thoroughly enlisted in his father's plans. Almost any
+boy of his age would have shuddered at the prospect of a violent death
+which, through the united agency of his father and himself, impended
+over his young guest. But Jasper was thoroughly selfish, and what his
+father had communicated to him had inspired in him a feeling of alarm.
+He could not endure the thought of surrendering his inheritance to
+Gilbert, and was ready, young as he was, to go to any extremity rather
+than to do it.
+
+According to the suggestion his father had made, when dinner was over,
+at which both Jasper and his father had exerted themselves to be
+particularly agreeable, the former, turning to his cousin, said:
+
+"If you like, I will take you out in the carriage. You might like to
+see something of the country round here."
+
+"I should like it very much," said Gilbert, "but I hope you won't put
+yourself to too much trouble."
+
+"It will be no trouble. I shall enjoy driving with some one who is new
+to the country. It is dull work driving alone."
+
+"I will go with pleasure, then, and thank you for the offer."
+
+James Grey listened with complacent approval.
+
+"Really," he thought, "I didn't imagine Jasper could be so polite and
+agreeable. He doesn't often show these qualities in his intercourse
+with me."
+
+When Gilbert went up to prepare for the excursion, Jasper lingered
+behind.
+
+"If I am going to do the agreeable to your company, father," he said,
+"I shall need some money. I am cleaned out."
+
+Without a word of remonstrance his father drew thirty dollars from his
+pocket-book, and placed the money in his son's hands.
+
+"Do it up handsomely, Jasper," he said. "Don't be unnecessarily
+extravagant, of course, but spend your money like a gentleman."
+
+"Yes, father," answered Jasper, as his fingers closed with satisfaction
+upon the bills.
+
+The carriage drove up to the door, and the two young men entered.
+During the drive that ensued, Jasper showed himself very social and
+communicative. He was unwearied in pointing out objects of interest,
+and, in fact, by his easy and genial manners almost conquered the
+antipathy which Gilbert secretly felt.
+
+"I wonder," he said, at length, leaning back in the carriage and
+surveying Gilbert with curiosity, "I wonder you never visited us
+before."
+
+"I did not know where you lived."
+
+"Yet we are relations--distant relations, are we not?"
+
+"I have reason to think that we are related."
+
+"I have very few relations--none that I know. I believe there is a
+brother of my mother living somewhere in New Mexico, but with that
+exception, I know of no relations except you. Where do you live?"
+
+"In Cincinnati."
+
+"I used to live there. Why did we not meet then?"
+
+"I have only been there for the last three years--that is, lately. I
+have been in Australia, and later in New York."
+
+"In Australia!" echoed Jasper, in considerable surprise.
+
+"Yes, I was there for a while."
+
+"You have been quite a traveler. How nearly are you related to us?"
+
+"That matter is not settled yet. I am not quite sure whether your
+father would like me to tell."
+
+Gilbert said this, understanding the embarrassment of intimating to a
+son that his father had defrauded him of the property that was
+rightfully his. He thought it best to let his uncle reveal the secret
+himself.
+
+They drove ten miles, reaching a considerable town, boasting a large
+hotel.
+
+"Let us go in and have a game of billiards," suggested Jasper.
+
+"Very well, but you won't find me much of a player."
+
+"I must get father to put a billiard table in the house. I like the
+game, but I get no chance to practice."
+
+They adjourned to the bar-room, in which there was a solitary table.
+This happened to be unoccupied, and they accordingly played two games,
+which lasted about an hour and a half. The reader will judge that
+neither was very expert in the game.
+
+"Now," said Jasper, who paid for both games, despite Gilbert's
+remonstrances, "we will order a little lunch, and then start for home."
+
+"I don't feel hungry."
+
+"Nonsense! one can always eat. Besides, I want to patronize the hotel."
+
+"Did you have a pleasant drive?" asked James Grey, meeting them on
+their return.
+
+"Very pleasant," responded Gilbert.
+
+"I hope Jasper was attentive."
+
+"He could not have been more so. I am much obliged to him."
+
+"I am glad enough to have company," said Jasper, with an assumption of
+frank cordiality. "I don't often enjoy a drive, but I did this
+afternoon."
+
+"I think I shall have to invite Gilbert to stay here as our permanent
+guest," said Mr. Grey, pleasantly.
+
+While he spoke Gilbert could not help wondering what had come over him
+to make him so different from what he was in Cincinnati. There he was
+rough, insulting, and abusive. Now he was the model of courtesy. It was
+hard to believe him the same man. Gilbert was not very credulous, but
+he was thoroughly deceived by his altered manner.
+
+"I suppose he really believed me an impostor when we met in
+Cincinnati," said he to himself. "Now he begins to think that he was
+mistaken, and is trying to make it up to me."
+
+Nevertheless, there were one or two things which interfered with this
+view. Why should his uncle have schemed so eagerly to get dishonest
+possession of the confession unless he believed it to be genuine, and
+therefore dangerous? That did not seem honorable. What had happened
+since to change him?
+
+After reflection, this was the conclusion to which our hero came: His
+uncle had made up his mind that he (Gilbert) had a strong case, and
+meant to conciliate him in the hope of a favorable compromise.
+Otherwise what object could he have in treating him with so much
+politeness and attention?
+
+Gilbert was a smart boy, or perhaps I should say, young man, but he was
+not yet acquainted with the "ways that are dark, and the tricks that
+are vain," to which human craft is often led to resort. Least of all
+did he suspect any danger to himself from the uncle and cousin, who
+seemed to vie with each other in ministering to his enjoyment.
+
+"Well, Jasper," said his father, the next morning, as they were seated
+at breakfast, "what plans have you for the enjoyment of our guest?"
+
+"You ride on horseback, don't you, Gilbert?" inquired his cousin.
+
+"Yes, I can ride a little."
+
+"Wouldn't you like a gallop after breakfast?"
+
+Gilbert responded readily in the affirmative. He had taken riding
+lessons in the city, and was accustomed to ride, whenever he had a
+chance, in the environs of the city. He was, in truth, an excellent
+rider, having taken lessons of an accomplished teacher, who often
+referred to him as one of the most proficient of his pupils. But when
+Jasper questioned him he only answered that he rode a little, having a
+strong disinclination to boast.
+
+"I should think that would be an agreeable plan," said Mr. Grey. "What
+horses shall you take?"
+
+"I will ride on my own. I am used to her, and don't like to change."
+
+"How will you mount Gilbert?"
+
+"He might ride on Bucephalus."
+
+"Isn't Bucephalus a little skittish?"
+
+"That is what they say at the stable; but I am not so easily scared."
+
+"Why not use Sidney?"
+
+"Sidney is not very well; he has had a bad cold. Still, if Gilbert is
+afraid of mounting Bucephalus"--there was an intentional covert sneer
+in Jasper's tone--"he can try Sidney."
+
+Now Gilbert was not timid, and did not like to be considered so. Had he
+really known the character of the horse designed for him, his cousin's
+words would still have decided him to take the risk.
+
+"I am not in the least afraid," he said. "I'll ride Bucephalus."
+
+"Don't you think you had better take the other horse?" urged James
+Grey, hypocritically.
+
+"No, sir," said Gilbert, with decision. "If Sidney is sick I would much
+rather try Bucephalus, even if he is a trifle spirited."
+
+"A trifle spirited," thought his uncle. "I wouldn't trust myself on the
+brute for ten thousand dollars."
+
+"If you're ready, Gilbert, we'll go out to the stable," said Jasper.
+
+They left the house and proceeded in the direction of the stable.
+
+"Ten to one he'll come back hurt," James Grey said to himself, "if he
+comes back at all," he added, with an evil smile.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+BUCEPHALUS.
+
+
+The stable was a handsome building, very complete in its appointments,
+for both Mr. Grey and Jasper were fond of horses. Opening the small
+door at one side the boys saw John, the coachman, washing the carriage.
+
+"John, we want the saddle-horses," said Jasper. "Gilbert and I are
+going to ride."
+
+"You will ride your own horse, Mr. Jasper?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And your friend will ride Sidney?"
+
+"No; he will take Bucephalus."
+
+John shook his head.
+
+"Sidney's better for him," he said. "I wouldn't trust Bucephalus."
+
+"John, you're a fool!" said Jasper, impatiently. "Gilbert isn't a
+baby."
+
+"I know he isn't, Mr. Jasper, but all the same I wouldn't advise him
+riding Bucephalus."
+
+"What are you afraid of?"
+
+"He's a contrary brute, while Sidney's as good-natured as a kitten."
+
+"Oh, well, we'd better have a kitten at once. Gilbert, we've got an old
+cat in the house, warranted safe. If John thinks it more prudent, we'll
+saddle her for you. A kitten might be too wild and skittish."
+
+Gilbert laughed.
+
+"I think I won't disturb the old cat," he said. "I'll try Bucephalus."
+
+"Better not, sir," said the coachman.
+
+"Of course, if you are afraid," said Jasper, with another covert sneer,
+"you'd better take Sidney; but in that case I shall probably ride away
+from you."
+
+"I'll take Bucephalus," said Gilbert, in decided tones. "I am not in
+the least afraid, and I think I can keep up with you."
+
+"On that horse I am sure you can."
+
+John saw that further remonstrance would be unavailing, and very
+reluctantly got ready the mettlesome steed. Gilbert jumped on his back
+and put his feet in the stirrups.
+
+John came to his side, and said, in a low voice:
+
+"Be very careful, sir. Let him have his way, and don't chafe or vex
+him. I hope you won't have any trouble."
+
+"I don't think I shall. Thank you."
+
+"What could possess Mr. Jasper to be so particular to have his friend
+ride out on the ugly brute?" thought John, as he watched the two
+galloping up the road. "He wouldn't trust himself on his back. Maybe he
+won't mind it so much if the other gets a broken limb or broken neck. I
+hope there won't be no accident. That Gilbert, as he calls himself,
+looks like a nice, gentlemanly lad. I think I'd like him much better
+than Mr. Jasper, who does put on airs, and orders me round as if I was
+a dog."
+
+John watched the two till a turn in the road concealed them from his
+view, and then went back to his work. But his thoughts could not help
+dwelling on the rash youth who had placed himself at the mercy of this
+ill-tempered steed, and he heartily wished he could be sure of his safe
+return.
+
+We will now follow the two riders, and inquire how they sped.
+
+Jasper soon found that Gilbert knew how to ride. His position was easy
+and unconstrained, and his seat was firm. He seemed as much at ease as
+in a parlor. But then Bucephalus was behaving well. He showed spirit,
+but was obedient to the rein.
+
+"How do you like Bucephalus?" inquired Jasper.
+
+"I find no fault with him. He is a fine horse. What made your coachman
+so afraid of trusting me on him?"
+
+"I hope you won't be angry with John," answered Jasper, laughing, "but
+he doubted whether you could ride. If you didn't know anything about
+riding, your horse would soon find it out, and take advantage of it."
+
+"Almost any horse would do that."
+
+"Of course."
+
+"I suppose you have ridden Bucephalus, Jasper?"
+
+"Certainly, though not often. I am used to my own horse--General, I
+call him--and I naturally prefer him."
+
+Jasper did not speak the truth. He had never ridden Bucephalus, nor
+would he have done so for a considerable sum of money, though he was by
+no means a poor rider. But Gilbert had no reason, or thought he had
+not, for doubting his assertion, and readily believed that it was only
+the coachman's doubt of his horsemanship that had given rise to the
+fears he expressed.
+
+"How long has your father owned Bucephalus?" inquired Gilbert.
+
+"Only three months."
+
+"Who rides him?"
+
+"Neither of us, much. The fact is, Sidney is father's horse, and this
+is mine. We don't need Bucephalus, but father took him for a debt, and
+means to sell him when he has a good opportunity."
+
+This was true. Bucephalus had been taken for a debt, and as, on account
+of his ill-temper, he was of no use to Mr. Grey, he proposed to dispose
+of him at the first favorable opportunity.
+
+"You ride well," said Jasper, after a pause. "Have you ridden much?"
+
+"Considerably," answered Gilbert, modestly.
+
+Had he not been so modest he might have added that his teacher had
+pronounced him the best rider he had ever taught. But Gilbert was no
+boaster, and, therefore, Jasper remained in ignorance of his really
+superior horsemanship.
+
+"You don't seem to find any trouble in managing him. I wish John could
+see you ride. He would see how foolish he was in being afraid for you."
+
+Gilbert was only human, and the compliment pleased him. He knew he was
+a good rider, and though he was not willing to boast of it, he liked to
+have it appreciated by others. He could not read the unspoken thought
+that was passing through his cousin's mind.
+
+"He does well enough now," thought Jasper; "but wait till Bucephalus
+wakes up. Then he will be like a child in his grasp. I wouldn't like to
+be in his shoes then."
+
+Yet to this danger from which he himself shrank in dread he had exposed
+his cousin, when he could easily have saved him from it. It was proof
+of his cold and selfish wickedness that he could do this without being
+visited by reproaches of conscience.
+
+For several miles Bucephalus behaved unusually well. But at length he
+began to show signs of the insubordinate spirit that possessed him.
+They came to a turn in the road; Jasper took the turn, but Bucephalus
+preferred to go straight on. He shook his head viciously, and snorted
+defiantly.
+
+"It's coming," thought Jasper, and for the first time he did feel a
+little pity for his companion.
+
+"Won't he turn?" he asked.
+
+"He don't want to, but he will," said Gilbert, coolly.
+
+He pulled the right rein in a firm, decided way. Bucephalus reared, and
+began to dance round.
+
+"Is that your game?" said Gilbert. "We'll see who will be master."
+
+[Illustration: "Is that your game?" said Gilbert. "We'll see who will
+be master."--Page 221.]
+
+He sawed away at the horse's mouth with no mercy. Bucephalus was
+enraged. He could hardly understand the presumption of the rider, who
+was daring enough to defy him to his worst. He was accustomed to
+inspire fear in his rider, and his spirit was up. He indulged in worse
+antics, when he was astonished and maddened by a terrible lashing from
+the whip in Gilbert's hand.
+
+He started off like a shot at a break-neck speed down the road which
+Gilbert wanted him to take. In his fury he was not probably aware that
+he had yielded that point to his master. On he rushed with the speed of
+lightning. Terror-struck, Jasper, sitting still on his own horse,
+followed him with his glance. He saw Gilbert, immovable as a rock,
+keeping his seat on the maddened steed, never for a moment losing
+courage or self-possession. He was astonished, but he could not help
+feeling admiration also.
+
+"He rides magnificently," he said to himself. "Who would have supposed
+that he could manage that brute?"
+
+But there was one thing that Jasper did not know--which I have not yet
+imparted to the reader. Gilbert had taken lessons of Rarey, the famous
+horse-tamer, and that gave him a wonderful advantage. Feeling firm in
+his seat, he let Bucephalus continue his break-neck speed till his
+beating sides and labored breath showed that he was exhausted. Then
+turning him unresisting he rode back. After a while he met Jasper. The
+latter could hardly believe his eyes when he saw the fierce steed cowed
+and subdued, while his cousin seemed perfectly cool and composed.
+
+"Thank Heaven, you are safe!" ejaculated Jasper, hypocritically. "I was
+very much alarmed about you."
+
+"I have given Bucephalus a lesson," said Gilbert, quietly. "I will ride
+him again to-morrow. I think he is thoroughly subdued now. Did he ever
+act in this way when you rode him?"
+
+"No," answered Jasper. "I don't see what got into him to-day. You rode
+him splendidly," he felt forced to add.
+
+"I am not afraid of horses," said Gilbert, quietly. "But suppose we
+turn back. I think he has had enough for one day."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+AN UNWELCOME RETURN.
+
+
+"I wish I know'd the boy would come to no harm," thought John, the
+coachman. "What made Master Jasper so anxious to have him ride the ugly
+brute? He wouldn't trust his own neck, but maybe it makes a difference
+when another's is in danger. I ain't sure but I'd rather my frind, Pat
+Murphy, would break his neck than mysilf. It's human natur to think of
+your silf first, and Master Jasper is got his shere of human natur' I'm
+thinkin'!"
+
+Time passed, and still John, as he kept about his work, could not keep
+his thoughts off the adventurous youth who had ridden Bucephalus.
+
+From time to time he went outside the stable, and shading his eyes with
+his hand, looked up the road, but still nothing was to be seen of
+either of the boys.
+
+"If he can manage the ugly baste, he knows how to ride, that's sure,"
+said John to himself. "I wish I was certain of that same, I do, by St.
+Patrick."
+
+"What are you looking at, John?" asked a voice, near at hand.
+
+John turned suddenly, and perceived that it was Mr. Grey who spoke.
+
+"I was lookin' to see if the boys was comin' back," said John.
+
+"They'll come back in due time. You needn't leave off your work for
+that."
+
+"I wish I knowed that, sir."
+
+"Knowed what?" repeated his employer.
+
+"That the young man--Mr. Gilbert--would come back safe."
+
+"Why shouldn't he come back?" inquired James Grey.
+
+"He rode on Bucephalus, sir."
+
+"Suppose he did?"
+
+"I'm afraid the ugly baste will do him some harm."
+
+"I am not afraid. Bucephalus is a spirited horse, I am aware, but he is
+used to riding, and doubtless can manage him."
+
+"So is Mr. Jasper used to riding, but you couldn't hire him to ride
+Bucephalus."
+
+"He has a horse of his own," said Mr. Grey, impatiently, not liking
+John's pertinacity. "Of course he prefers to ride on his own horse."
+
+"Would you ride him yourself, sir?" asked John, shrewdly.
+
+"I have had enough of this," said Mr. Grey, sternly. "It is a good
+rule, John, to mind your own business, and I am forced to remind you of
+it. Go into the stable, and continue your work. I did not know Gilbert
+was going to ride Bucephalus, but as he has chosen to do it, I do not
+feel in the least anxious. I have no doubt he will come back safe."
+
+"There he comes, begorra," exclaimed John, suddenly, swinging his hat
+in joyous excitement, "alive and kickin', sure, and the ugly brute as
+make and quiet as a lamb, too."
+
+"Where?" asked Mr. Grey, sharing John's excitement, but feeling a
+wicked disappointment in the failure of his evil plans.
+
+"Don't you see him, sir? He's jist at the turnin'. Shure he looks like
+he had mastered the horse, as bowld as a hero."
+
+It was as John had said. Side by side at a walk came the two horses
+with their riders. The fierce steed had found his master, and looked
+quiet and subdued. Never till that day had he been broken. Till this
+time he had felt his power, now he felt the power of another. Gilbert
+seemed perfectly at home on his back, and from his manner no one would
+have supposed that he had had a hard conflict with the brute, from
+which, had he not come forth victorious, the result might have been
+death or serious injury.
+
+"He's dangerous," thought his uncle. "A boy who can subdue such a horse
+must have an unconquerable will. _While he lives, I am not safe._"
+
+To John he said, wishing to keep up appearances:
+
+"I told you he would come back safe. You only made a fool of yourself
+by worrying."
+
+"Shure he must be a splindid rider, sir," said John, perplexed, "or
+else he has the divil's own luck, the one or the other."
+
+Mr. Grey waited till the boys came up, and John took the liberty of
+doing the same, though he had been bidden to go back to his work.
+
+"How did you enjoy your ride?" he inquired, looking to Gilbert. "I see
+you rode Bucephalus."
+
+"I had a little fight with the horse," answered Gilbert, "but I came
+off best."
+
+"So he undertook to trouble you, did he?" asked Mr. Grey, with
+curiosity.
+
+"Yes. He thought he was master, and undertook first to disobey, and
+afterward to run away with me. But I think he met his match, didn't
+you, Bucephalus?" said Gilbert, with a laugh, as he stroked the horse's
+neck.
+
+Bucephalus showed signs of pleasure, and the fierce glance of his eye
+was softer and more gentle than Mr. Grey had ever known it.
+
+"Shure and I'm glad you come back safe, Mr. Gilbert," said John,
+earnestly. "I don't see how you did it."
+
+"I don't think you'll find him so troublesome after this, John," said
+our hero, dismounting. "We are better friends than we were--eh,
+Bucephalus?"
+
+"Ye must have had a charm," said John, more than half in earnest. "I
+never saw such a change in a creetur before. He was a lion when he went
+out, and he comes back a lamb."
+
+"It's a great secret," said Gilbert, laughing.
+
+"Will it last, do you think?"
+
+"I think so. When a horse is once conquered he remembers it."
+
+"Shure, thin, he's worth twice the sum he was before," said John.
+
+"Do you want me to charge Mr. Grey for my services?" asked Gilbert,
+laughing.
+
+"Shure he could afford to pay you," answered John, "and that handsome."
+
+"How far did you go, Jasper?" inquired his father.
+
+"About eight miles, sir."
+
+"Well, you must be tired and hungry. Come into the house, and the cook
+shall send you up some lunch."
+
+"I am not in the least hungry, sir," said Gilbert. "We lunched at a
+hotel in the next town."
+
+Jasper accompanied his father into the house, but Gilbert remained
+behind five minutes longer. John's good-natured anxiety for his safety
+had enlisted his good will, and he thought he would like to chat a
+while with him.
+
+"You seem to be surprised at my coming home safe," he said.
+
+"Yes, sir--shure I am. You're the only one I know that could manage the
+ugly brute, let alone a horse-tamer."
+
+"But Jasper has ridden on him. Don't you think I can manage him as well
+as Jasper?"
+
+"Mr. Jasper niver has ridden on Bucephalus."
+
+"He told me he had," said Gilbert, in a tone of surprise.
+
+"Shure, sir, you couldn't have understood him."
+
+"Do you mean to say that he never rode on the horse?"
+
+"No; and he wouldn't for a hundred dollars."
+
+"What did he mean, then, by telling me he had done so?"
+
+"Are you sure he told you so, Mr. Gilbert?"
+
+"Yes; he said he had ridden Bucephalus, but not often, as he preferred
+his own horse."
+
+"Then, savin' your presince, he told a lie, but you mustn't tell him I
+said so."
+
+"I won't betray you; but I don't see why he should deceive me," said
+Gilbert, regarding the coachman with perplexity. "Did Mr. Grey ever
+ride on him?"
+
+"No, sir, and he wouldn't. He'd be afraid of his life."
+
+"Did you ever ride on him yourself, John?"
+
+"Yes, sir, I did that same. I rid him once too often. Before I knew
+where I was I found myself lyin' in the road lookin' up to the stars,
+of which I saw plenty, though it was broad daylight."
+
+"How long ago was that?"
+
+"Two months ago, jist after we got him. I hain't been on his back
+since."
+
+Gilbert now began to look serious. He was beginning to understand a
+little better how matters stood.
+
+"I shouldn't think Mr. Grey or Jasper would have let me ride him if he
+was so dangerous," he said, after a pause.
+
+"Nor I," said John. "Faith, they care less for your neck than their
+own, I'm thinkin'."
+
+"It is lucky I am a good rider, or you might never have seen me again.
+I conquered him, but it wasn't easy. Six months ago he would have
+conquered me."
+
+"All's well that ends well," said John, philosophically. "He won't be
+up to any more of his tantrums when you are on his back, I'm thinkin'.
+Horses have a good mimery, and they know their master."
+
+"I shall not be afraid to ride him now. But I must go into the house."
+
+Gilbert entered the house. He did not enter his uncle's presence at
+once, but went up to his room and seated himself thoughtfully at the
+window.
+
+"Can it be that he meant to risk my life?" he said to himself. "I am in
+his way, I know, but is he capable of such a crime?"
+
+He could not decide. He was not prone to think evil of others, yet he
+felt that it was necessary to be on his guard.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+ANOTHER PLOT.
+
+
+"So he mastered Bucephalus," said James Grey, when alone with his son.
+"He must be a splendid rider."
+
+"I had no idea he was so used to horses," said Jasper. "He sat like a
+rock, and did not seem in the least frightened."
+
+"I begin to think he is more dangerous than I at first supposed. Did he
+appear to suspect anything when the horse began to behave badly?"
+
+"I don't think he did."
+
+"He may be surprised that we should give him that horse when we don't
+ride it ourselves."
+
+"He doesn't know that. He asked me if I ever rode Bucephalus, and I
+told him yes, but not often, as I preferred my own horse."
+
+"That will do, if John doesn't undeceive him."
+
+"John is a meddlesome fellow," said Jasper, in a tone of vexation. "He
+tried to persuade him not to ride Bucephalus."
+
+"John makes a fool of himself. I am afraid he will arouse Gilbert's
+suspicions. If he does, we must do what we can to allay them."
+
+"What shall you do now, father?" inquired Jasper.
+
+"I have not decided. When I have, I may not tell you."
+
+"Why not?" asked Jasper, suspiciously.
+
+"Not from any feeling of distrust, for we are both in the same boat,
+and equally interested in frustrating your cousin's designs. But it may
+be necessary to resort to strong--perhaps forcible measures--and it may
+be well that you should be kept in entire ignorance of them. It is a
+serious peril for both of us, this claim of Gilbert's, but more so to
+you. I have already enjoyed the estate for a long time. In the course
+of nature I have thirty-five years less of life to look forward to than
+you. Therefore your interest is greater than mine."
+
+"All right, father. Whatever you think best I am ready to agree to; but
+if you need any help that I can give, just let me know."
+
+"That shall be understood. Now, you had better go out and look for your
+cousin. It is not best that John and he should be left to themselves
+too long."
+
+Jasper went out into the stable-yards, but found that Gilbert had
+already gone into the house.
+
+"That's a mighty foine lad, that Gilbert," said John.
+
+"Yes, he's a clever fellow," responded Jasper, not very
+enthusiastically.
+
+"He's as smart as a steel-trap," said John, earnestly.
+
+"I didn't know steel-traps were very smart," said Jasper,
+sarcastically.
+
+He felt instinctively that John considered Gilbert smarter than
+himself, and his self-conceit was so great that this troubled him.
+
+"Wait till you get into one," said John, laughing. "If you'd get your
+little finger into one of them things, you'd find it was too smart for
+ye."
+
+"What did Gilbert have to say to you?"
+
+But John was too smart to be pumped.
+
+"Nothing much," he answered. "He says the ugly brute won't give no more
+trouble."
+
+"Do you think so yourself?"
+
+"He won't trouble Mr. Gilbert."
+
+"Will he trouble anybody else?"
+
+"Maybe not. He's had a good lesson."
+
+"I wonder whether Gilbert told him what I said," thought Jasper. He
+didn't like to ask, for, in so doing, he would betray himself. After a
+little pause he walked back to the house; but he did not see Gilbert
+for some time, for the latter was still in his chamber.
+
+When they met at supper, Mr. Grey said:
+
+"I ought to apologize to you, Gilbert, for trusting you to such a
+horse; but he has never cut up such pranks before, and I did not
+realize the danger to which I was exposing you. From what Jasper says,
+you must have been in peril."
+
+"I suppose I should have been, sir, if I had not been so accustomed to
+horses; but I have ridden a great deal, though I don't think I ever had
+such a sharp contest before."
+
+"You had better ride Sidney to-morrow--I don't want you to run any more
+risk."
+
+"Thank you, sir; but I am not afraid. Bucephalus has had a lesson, and
+won't try to master me again. With your permission, I will try him
+again, and hope to have him wholly subdued before I go."
+
+"I shall be glad to have him subjugated, I confess, as it will greatly
+enhance his value; but I don't want you to run any further risk."
+
+"The danger is quite over, Mr. Grey."
+
+This conversation, and the regret frankly expressed by his uncle, did
+considerable to put to rest the suspicion that had been excited in
+Gilbert's mind. It did look strange, to be sure, that Jasper should
+have made a false claim to have ridden Bucephalus, when he hadn't done
+so; but possibly this was because he did not like to have it supposed
+that he was inferior in courage or in horsemanship. At any rate, though
+not quite satisfied, he felt that there might be an explanation.
+
+The next morning the boys went out to ride once more. Bucephalus
+justified Gilbert's prediction, and behaved as well as could be
+expected. Once he made a start, but a sudden twitch of the reins
+recalled to his mind the defeat of the day before, and he quickly
+relapsed into obedience.
+
+Meanwhile Mr. Grey paced the floor of his library, and thought deeply.
+To what means should he resort to avert the danger that menaced his
+estate? He knew enough now of Gilbert to understand that he was
+resolute and determined. He might be conciliated, but could not be
+intimidated while he felt that he was battling for his inherited
+rights. Would it be worth while to conciliate him? Mr. Grey feared that
+he would require the surrender of the major portion of the estate, and
+to this he was not willing to accede. While he was thus perplexed,
+Pompey made his appearance, and said:
+
+"There's a man wants to see you, Mr. Grey."
+
+"A man, or a gentleman?"
+
+"A man. It's Hugh Trimble."
+
+"Bring him up."
+
+Some idea must have been started in Mr. Grey's mind, for his eyes
+lighted up with a gleam of exultation, and he muttered:
+
+"The very thing. Why didn't I think of it before?"
+
+Hugh Trimble shuffled into the room--a tall, shambling figure of a man,
+with a generally disreputable look. He was roughly dressed, and
+appeared like a social outlaw. He was a tenant of Mr. Grey's, living on
+a clearing just on the edge of a forest. He had a wife, but no
+children. She led a hard life, being subjected to ill usage from her
+husband when, as was frequently the case, he was under the influence of
+liquor.
+
+Such was the man who entered the library, and evidently ill at ease on
+finding himself in a room so unfitted to his habits, made a clumsy
+salutation.
+
+"Well, Trimble," said Mr. Grey, with unusual cordiality, "how are you
+getting on?"
+
+"Bad enough," returned Trimble, "I haven't got no money for you."
+
+"Have you been unlucky?"
+
+"I'm always unlucky," growled Trimble, frowning. "I was born to bad
+luck, I was."
+
+"Perhaps your bad luck will leave you, after a time."
+
+"I don't see no signs of that."
+
+"Sit down," said Mr. Grey, with continued cordiality. "There's a chair
+next to you."
+
+Hugh Trimble seated himself cautiously on the edge of a chair, a little
+surprised at the unexpected attention he was receiving.
+
+"I want to speak to you on an important subject."
+
+"All right, sir," responded the backwoodsman, not without curiosity.
+
+"You say you have been always unlucky?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And you don't expect your luck to change, I think you said?"
+
+"Not unless it becomes worse," grumbled Trimble.
+
+"Would you consider it good luck if some one should pay you over a
+thousand dollars?"
+
+"Would I? I'd think myself a rich man." exclaimed Trimble. "But who's a
+goin' to do it?" he added, in a more subdued voice.
+
+"I will, on certain conditions."
+
+"You will give me a thousand dollars?" exclaimed the backwoodsman,
+opening wide his eyes in astonishment.
+
+"On conditions."
+
+"Name 'em."
+
+"First, you must promise that what I tell you shall be kept secret."
+
+Hugh Trimble made the promise.
+
+Mr. Grey now rose and closed the door, which was partially open, and,
+drawing his chair near that of his visitor, conferred with him, in a
+low voice, for some twenty minutes. At the end of that time he
+dismissed him with a parting injunction.
+
+"Remember what I have told you, and, above all things, be secret."
+
+When the visitor had departed, he stood with his back to the fire, and
+smiled unpleasantly, as he repeated:
+
+"I think it'll work--I think it'll work."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV.
+
+A RIDE THROUGH THE WOODS.
+
+
+The next morning, when the three were seated at the breakfast table,
+Mr. Grey said:
+
+"Jasper, I think I shall leave you to amuse yourself this morning. I
+propose to invite Gilbert to accompany me on a drive."
+
+"All right, father. Where do you intend driving?"
+
+"I scarcely know, yet. There are many pleasant places in the
+neighborhood which it is worth while to visit."
+
+"I wonder what the old man's up to?" thought Jasper. "No good to
+Gilbert, I'll be bound. Well, I've had my turn, and it's no more than
+right that he should take his. I won't ask any inconvenient questions."
+
+"Will that arrangement be agreeable to you?" asked James Grey, turning
+to his young visitor.
+
+"I shall be happy to accompany you, Mr. Grey," answered our hero,
+politely.
+
+"Then it is settled. I will order the chaise round to the door at ten
+o'clock."
+
+"I will be ready, sir."
+
+Jasper looked at his father curiously, as Gilbert left the room. His
+look was returned by one equally significant.
+
+"Ask no questions," it said, and Jasper sauntered out of the room, in
+mute obedience.
+
+Ten o'clock found the chaise before the door. Gilbert was on hand, and
+so was his uncle.
+
+"Jump in, Gilbert," said Mr. Grey.
+
+Our hero did so, and James Grey followed.
+
+Jasper stood near, and looked on.
+
+"He isn't coming back," he said to himself. "I saw it in my father's
+eyes. He won't dare to kill him, I wonder?"
+
+The question, which should have produced a feeling of horror, only
+caused a feeling of curiosity, and he walked away, in the confidence
+that the dangerous foe to his prospects was to be disposed of somehow.
+
+"It is a pleasant morning for driving," said Mr. Grey, by way of
+opening the conversation.
+
+"Yes, sir, very pleasant."
+
+"Did you have any more trouble with Bucephalus yesterday?"
+
+"No, sir. He has given up the contest."
+
+"I am glad to hear it."
+
+"How large is your estate, Mr. Grey?"
+
+This was a simple question, but James Grey understood it as implying
+curiosity on the part of our hero to learn how large a property he
+could claim.
+
+"There are about two hundred acres," he answered. "By the way, we have
+not yet spoken of your claim."
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"I have been meaning to go to Alton to consult my lawyer. I have
+delayed it longer, perhaps, than I should. To-morrow I will attend to
+it, and report to you the result."
+
+"Thank you, sir. I don't like to hurry you, but a decision is so
+important to my plans in life that I should like the matter decided as
+soon as possible."
+
+"Of course, your feeling is only natural. Indeed, I have reason to feel
+in the same way, for if your claim is sustained it will reduce me to
+comparative poverty, and my poor boy also."
+
+James Grey spoke with affected feeling, and Gilbert responded, quickly:
+
+"Don't think so meanly of me, Mr. Grey, as to suppose that I should be
+willing to reduce you and Jasper to poverty. I can not give up my
+rights, but I will take care that you are saved from any pecuniary
+want."
+
+"Will you, indeed?" said Mr. Grey to himself, with a sneer. "Thank you
+for nothing, young man; I intend to provide against that contingency
+myself."
+
+What he said aloud was something very different.
+
+"I feel sure that in any event I can rely on your forbearance," he
+said. "But the decision may be in my favor, and in that case I will not
+be behind you in generosity. I will do what I can to further your
+interests, though I do not promise to do as much for you as an own
+son."
+
+"Of course not, sir. I thank you for your offer."
+
+Mr. Grey spoke so frankly and fairly--he was one of those who could
+assume a virtue though he had it not--that Gilbert was partially
+deceived--so far, at least, as to question the correctness of his
+former impressions of his uncle. Nevertheless, he could not help
+calling to mind that this man, fairly as he now spoke, had in all
+probability conspired against him, dooming him to privation and penury
+for nearly ten years, while he and his son had been living luxuriously.
+On the whole, his uncle was a puzzle to him. He exhibited such a
+contrariety of character and disposition, that he knew not to what
+decision it would be right to come respecting it.
+
+"I am going to avoid the village, Gilbert," said his uncle, "and drive
+you along a very charming road, or rather cart-path, threading the
+woods. The trees are now looking very beautiful with their changing
+foliage, and I think you will like it better than the ordinary road."
+
+"You are right, sir, I should," answered Gilbert.
+
+"It will give you an idea of our Western forests. I suppose you are
+only familiar with those in the East?"
+
+"I am not familiar with any. I have always lived in the city--first in
+New York, and afterward in Cincinnati."
+
+Gilbert would have mentioned his residence in Australia, but he thought
+that the reference to it might be construed by his uncle into a tacit
+reproach, and therefore forbore.
+
+They turned from the main road into one not much frequented, and
+speedily entered the forest. Not a suspicion of his uncle's bad faith,
+or of any conspiracy against himself, entered the mind of our hero. He
+had not yet fathomed the depth of his uncle's wickedness.
+
+"Jasper never cares to ride in this direction," said Mr. Grey. "He has
+no love for Nature."
+
+"He has told me that he would rather live in the city."
+
+"Yes, he would; but I am attached to the country. I suppose when he
+grows older that he will insist upon leaving me. That will leave me
+indeed solitary."
+
+They kept on till they were in the heart of the woods. As Mr. Grey had
+said, the road was now but a cart-path, bordered on either side by
+tall, straight trees. Suddenly, from a covert of underbrush, a ruffian
+sprang out, and seized the horse by the bridle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV.
+
+HOW GILBERT IS DISPOSED OF.
+
+
+"What do you want, fellow?" demanded James Grey, sternly, in order to
+keep up appearances, for he recognized his confederate. "Let go that
+bridle."
+
+"I want money," said Hugh Trimble, for, of course it was he.
+
+"Is this the fashion in which you ask it?" said Mr. Grey. "Let go my
+bridle, and come round to my house. Then I will listen to your
+application, and, if I find you deserving, I will grant your request."
+
+"That don't go down," said Hugh, roughly. "You rich men take good care
+of your money. I shouldn't stand no chance at your house."
+
+"As much there as here."
+
+"Maybe not," said the man, significantly. "There you'd be master. Here,
+I am master."
+
+"What do you mean by that?"
+
+"I mean that I want five hundred dollars, and I mean to have it."
+
+"Do you dare to threaten me?"
+
+"Yes, I do. You are a rich man--I am poor. You can spare five hundred
+dollars without feeling it."
+
+"I don't intend to be forced into giving you money. Let go that bridle,
+or I will run over you."
+
+"I will stand by you, Mr. Grey," said Gilbert, speaking for the first
+time. "Don't submit to that man's demands."
+
+"Young man," said Hugh, "you'd better not interfere. You can't help
+your father."
+
+"He is not my father."
+
+"No matter what he is, you'd better keep out of the affair. That's the
+advice I give you."
+
+"I shall stand by him," said Gilbert, spiritedly. "You've got two
+against you."
+
+"And you've got two against you," said Hugh, drawing a pistol from a
+side-pocket. "What do you say to that?"
+
+"My friend, what is it that you demand?" asked Mr. Grey.
+
+"So I'm your friend now, am I?" retorted Hugh, with a mocking laugh.
+"It's the pistol that's done it, I reckon."
+
+"I repeat it--what do you want?"
+
+"Five hundred dollars."
+
+"I left my pocket-book at home. I will go back and get the money."
+
+"Do you take me for a fool? You would come back with an officer of the
+law."
+
+"I promise you that I will lay no trap for you."
+
+Here Hugh seemed to hesitate.
+
+"I'll tell you what I'll do," he said, finally. "Leave the boy with me
+as a pledge, and I'll let you go."
+
+"Suppose I don't?"
+
+"I'll shoot you on the spot!"
+
+James Grey turned to Gilbert.
+
+"You hear what he says? Are you willing to remain with him while I go
+back and get the money?"
+
+Gilbert did not fancy the plan, and hesitated.
+
+"If there is no other way," he said, at length.
+
+"My friend," said Mr. Grey, "I will stay with you, and send the boy
+home."
+
+"I won't trust him," said Hugh, who had learned his lesson well.
+"Besides, he cannot get the money as well as you."
+
+"There seems no help for it, Gilbert," said James Grey, turning to his
+nephew. "He insists upon retaining you, but it shall not be for long. I
+will at once obtain the money, and come back and release you. He is
+armed, and we are not. We cannot resist him."
+
+"If you think it best," said Gilbert.
+
+"I am afraid there is no other way. My friend, suppose I give you my
+promise to come back, will you excuse this young man from stopping?"
+
+"No!" said Hugh, shortly.
+
+"Say no more," said Gilbert. "I will remain."
+
+He jumped lightly from the chaise, and Hugh released his hold of the
+bridle.
+
+"When shall you be back?" he asked.
+
+"At three o'clock this afternoon."
+
+"I will be on hand with the boy."
+
+"Keep up your courage, Gilbert," said Mr. Grey, as he drove away.
+
+Out of sight, a smile of triumph overspread his face.
+
+"I didn't think Hugh would do his part so well," he soliloquized.
+"Really he is quite an actor. So I am rid of my troublesome
+responsibility at last. I hope never again to set eyes upon him."
+
+On reaching home he stated that Gilbert had suddenly received a
+telegram summoning him to St. Louis; that he had carried him to a
+landing-place for the river boats, and agreed to dispatch his luggage
+to the Planters' House in that city by express. To keep up appearances
+he did so dispose of Gilbert's carpet-bag, directing it to
+
+    "GILBERT GREY, Planters' House, St. Louis, Mo."
+
+"'Pears like he left mighty suddint," said Pompey.
+
+"Yes; he has a friend very sick in St. Louis," explained Mr. Grey.
+
+"I'm sorry he's gone," said John, who suspected nothing. "He was a
+right fine lad, and he managed Bucephalus beautiful."
+
+Jasper said nothing, but wondered whether Gilbert had suffered violence
+at his father's hands.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI.
+
+HUGH BETRAYS HIS PRINCIPAL.
+
+
+"Follow me!" said Hugh Trimble to Gilbert.
+
+"Where are you going to lead me?"
+
+"Never you mind. Come along."
+
+Gilbert saw that resistance would be useless, and he obeyed. His
+companion plunged into the woods, looking back occasionally to see that
+he was following. He kept on for about half a mile as near as Gilbert
+could judge, when they came to a small clearing, in the midst of which
+was a dilapidated log hut. It was no longer occupied, but had been
+deserted by the former occupant, who had gone across the Mississippi to
+regions yet unexplored years before.
+
+"Go in there," said Hugh.
+
+Gilbert entered.
+
+He saw nothing but bare walls, all furniture having been removed when
+it was deserted.
+
+Our hero looked around him curiously, and then at his conductor
+inquiringly. He was not long in doubt as to his intention.
+
+Hugh drew a strong cord from his pocket, and drew near him.
+
+"What are you going to do?" asked Gilbert.
+
+"Tie your hands and feet," was the reply.
+
+Gilbert shrank back.
+
+"Don't do that," he said.
+
+"I ain't goin' to have you run away," growled Hugh.
+
+"I won't run away. I shall be released this afternoon at any rate, and
+I can stand captivity till then."
+
+"How do you know you will get free this afternoon?"
+
+"You promised to let me go when my uncle brought the money."
+
+"Your uncle?" repeated Hugh, exhibiting surprise, fixing his eyes
+keenly upon our hero.
+
+"Yes, he is my uncle, but he does not acknowledge me yet."
+
+"Humph!" said Hugh, thoughtfully to himself. "Suppose he does own you,
+what then?"
+
+"It is a secret."
+
+"You'd better tell me. I have a reason for asking."
+
+"I have a claim to the property which my uncle possesses."
+
+"That's it. I understand it now."
+
+"What do you understand?"
+
+"Suppose you was to die, what then?"
+
+"There would be nobody to disturb my uncle in the possession of his
+property."
+
+"He wouldn't cry much if you was to die."
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Gilbert, unpleasantly impressed by the man's
+tone.
+
+"He wants you dead--that's the long and short of it."
+
+"I can't believe it," said Gilbert, shuddering. "You can have no cause
+to say this. He can't be so wicked."
+
+"Look here, young one," said Hugh, "I'll tell you a secret. You take me
+for a robber, don't you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"In course you do. Now I'm going to surprise you. My stopping your
+mouth to-day was all a put-up job."
+
+"You don't mean that my uncle engaged you to do it?"
+
+"Yes, I do."
+
+"What was his object?"
+
+"He don't mean to come back for you. He wants me to kill you."
+
+"You don't mean that?" said Gilbert, horror-struck.
+
+"Yes, I do. He's goin' to give me a thousand dollars."
+
+"And you agreed to do it?"
+
+"Yes, I agreed to do it."
+
+"Would you stain your hands with murder for a thousand dollars?" asked
+Gilbert, solemnly.
+
+"What can I do? I'm a poor man. Fortune has gone agin me all my life.
+There ain't no other way I can get money. If I was well off I wouldn't
+do it."
+
+"Good Heaven! To think my uncle should be capable of such wickedness."
+
+"It's just as bad for him, ain't it? He hires me to kill you for the
+sake of money. What's the odds?"
+
+"He is worse than you. He knows that I would not strip him of
+everything, even if I succeed."
+
+"What's your chances, young one? Have you got a good case?"
+
+"If I hadn't, he wouldn't conspire for my death."
+
+"That's so. Now, young chap, shall I kill you or not?"
+
+"Of course I don't want to be killed, but you are too strong for me. I
+am in your power."
+
+"Swear, if I spare your life, will you see that I don't lose by it?"
+
+Gilbert caught his meaning and snatched at the chance of safety.
+
+"If you let me go, you shall have the same amount my uncle promised
+you, and will have no stain of murder on your hands."
+
+"Have you got the money?"
+
+"Nearly all. The rest I can raise. But I will do better than that, on
+one condition."
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"If you will let me call you as a witness, to prove that my uncle
+engaged you to kill me, I shall be sure to recover my property, and the
+day I come into possession I will pay you over _two thousand dollars_."
+
+Hugh's eyes sparkled, but he answered cautiously:
+
+"Won't there be no risk? Can't they shut me up?"
+
+"No; you can say that you entered into the plan in order to entrap my
+uncle."
+
+"Will you swear to do that?"
+
+"I will."
+
+"Then it's a bargain. Now, what shall we do first?"
+
+"I want you to go with me to St. Louis, but my uncle must not know that
+I have escaped. How can we manage that?"
+
+"We can go up north afterward and take the boat from there. When we
+pass this place on the river, we'll stay down below."
+
+"That is a good plan. When we get to St. Louis I will see a lawyer at
+once, and put the matter in his hands."
+
+"I don't like to come before the court," said Hugh, reluctantly, "but I
+will if you say so."
+
+"I don't think it will be necessary. When my uncle learns that his
+conspiracy is likely to be made known, he will be glad to compromise
+without a contest."
+
+"You know best. If you'll come round with me to my hut, I'll tell the
+old woman what's up, and then we'll strike for the river. You won't go
+back on me?"
+
+"No--that isn't my way; besides, your testimony is too valuable for me.
+I'll stand by you if you'll stand by me. Give me your hand."
+
+"I'll trust you, young one," he said.
+
+Before the sun set they were passengers on a river steamer, bound for
+St. Louis.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII.
+
+A FINAL SURRENDER.
+
+
+James Grey waited at home in anxious suspense to hear from Hugh
+Trimble. He felt that it would not be prudent to seek him out, lest
+suspicion attach to himself, in case his nephew had been murdered. From
+time to time he realized the risk he had run, and wished he had never
+entered into a conspiracy against Gilbert's life.
+
+Twenty-four hours passed, and still Hugh Trimble did not appear to
+claim the thousand dollars promised him for the crime he had consented
+to perpetrate. James Grey began to grow nervous. His nervousness
+increased when another day passed and still no tidings.
+
+On the third day he was about to set out for the woods, in defiance of
+prudence, bent on terminating his suspense, when he received a letter
+post-marked St. Louis. It was addressed in a strange hand. He opened it
+curiously, but, as he read it, he turned pallid, and, when he had
+mastered its contents, he sank into a chair, overcome.
+
+This was the letter:
+
+    "ST. LOUIS, October --, 185--.
+
+    "MR. JAMES GREY: I write you as the attorney of Gilbert Grey,
+    claiming to be the son of your deceased elder brother, and as such
+    entitled to the large property of which you took possession at your
+    brother's death, and which you still hold, to his prejudice. He is
+    prepared to prove his identity by the written death-bed confession
+    of the clerk whom you employed to abduct him, the genuineness of
+    which document he is also in a condition to prove. It will not be
+    necessary to go into further particulars, since he tells me that he
+    has already conferred with you freely on the subject, and put you
+    in possession of all that he is able to prove.
+
+    "He is also prepared to show that you so far recognized the
+    strength of his claim, that in Cincinnati you endeavored to destroy
+    the written confession alluded to, and that on a later occasion you
+    entered into a conspiracy with one Hugh Trimble to murder him,
+    promising the said Trimble one thousand dollars for so doing. To
+    this Hugh Trimble is ready to swear, having repented his wicked
+    compact, and enlisted himself on the side of my client. _Though we
+    feel that exposure and punishment for this wicked plot should
+    justly be visited upon you, we agree to keep it secret provided you
+    interpose no obstacle to the immediate surrender to my client of
+    the property at present unjustly withheld from him._ It is
+    desirable that you come to St. Louis at once, and settle this
+    matter.
+
+    "Yours, respectfully,
+
+    "ANTHONY BATES."
+
+When James Grey reached the conclusion of this letter he realized that
+his plot had completely failed. His tool had turned against him, and he
+was in the power of his nephew. There was but one answer to make to
+this proposition. _He dared not refuse it!_
+
+He started immediately for St. Louis, and wended his way to the
+lawyer's office. He feared he should find his nephew there, but was
+relieved to find himself alone with Mr. Bates.
+
+"To what decision have you come, Mr. Grey?" asked the lawyer.
+
+"What terms do you offer?"
+
+"Silence, provided you surrender the estate at once."
+
+"It will render me penniless."
+
+"At what do you estimate the value of the estate?"
+
+"One hundred and fifty thousand dollars."
+
+"This is about the figure at which my client estimated it. I am
+authorized by him to offer you ten thousand dollars in hand, and an
+annual income of two thousand dollars upon the acknowledgment without
+delay of the rightfulness of his claim."
+
+It was more than Mr. Grey hoped for. He judged his nephew by himself,
+and doubted, especially after his attempt upon his life, whether he
+would not leave him to the bitterness of utter poverty.
+
+"I accept the terms," he said, briefly.
+
+"Then the proper papers shall be made out at once."
+
+Now that Mr. Grey offered no further opposition, there was no further
+cause of delay. An hour later, Gilbert had in his possession the legal
+document which restored him to his rights, and made him a rich man.
+
+His uncle received in exchange a paper, assuring to him the provision
+which Gilbert had generously made. Armed with this, he went home
+without seeing his nephew.
+
+He was ashamed to face the lad whom he had so basely defrauded, and
+still more basely sought to slay.
+
+When Jasper, to whom he had said nothing of the motive of his journey,
+met him, he at once detected the trouble in his father's manner.
+
+"What is the matter, father?" he inquired.
+
+"All is lost, Jasper," said his father.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Gilbert has triumphed, and I am a comparative beggar."
+
+"Then what is to become of me?" demanded Jasper, thunder-struck.
+
+"Always yourself!" repeated his father, bitterly. "You have no feeling
+for me. All your anxiety is for yourself."
+
+"I never pretended to be an affectionate son," said Jasper, coolly.
+"It's my belief that you've mismanaged this matter somewhat. You'd
+better have left it in my hands."
+
+"I did the best I could, but Gilbert is sharp and no baby. You might
+know that from the way in which he tamed Bucephalus."
+
+"I wish the brute had broken his neck."
+
+"I don't know," said James Grey, slowly. "I believe Heaven is on his
+side, and we can't fight against Heaven."
+
+"Perhaps you are content to be a beggar. I am not."
+
+"We are not beggars. Your cousin leaves us ten thousand dollars, and
+assures us an annual income of two thousand dollars."
+
+"That is not bad," said Jasper, with a sigh of relief. "I hope you
+don't mean to stay in this dull hole."
+
+"No, it would be disagreeable. When money matters are fairly settled, I
+propose that we shall leave the country, and settle in Europe."
+
+Jasper's eyes sparkled.
+
+"The most sensible thing you could decide upon, father. It isn't so bad
+after all. We can live comfortably on our income abroad."
+
+"Not as we have done."
+
+"I don't care. I shall get out of this hole, and this life."
+
+A month later Jasper and his father sailed for Europe. They are still
+living there--not happily, for Jasper is not a model son, and his
+ingratitude and want of ordinary feeling, affect his father the more
+that he is thrown upon his society chiefly for companionship.
+
+                     *      *      *      *      *
+
+When Gilbert had settled his affairs he removed to Cincinnati. He was
+received with a warm welcome by Mr. Ferguson, who heartily rejoiced in
+his success. Maurice Walton was filled with envy and disappointment.
+His rival had been lifted so far above him that there could be no
+longer rivalry. Gilbert was a young man of fortune, while he was a poor
+clerk on a small salary. The worst of it was, that there was no hope
+now of winning Bessie Benton. But, had Maurice been wiser, he might
+have seen long ago that he had no hope there. Bessie knew him too well,
+and though she felt a friendly interest in his welfare there was no
+chance of any warmer feeling. She had a partiality for Gilbert, while
+he was still poor. As years passed it became further developed, and I
+am sure my readers will not be surprised to learn that she now writes
+her name Bessie Grey.
+
+But I have not yet done with my hero. As may be supposed he resigned
+his clerkship in Mr. Ferguson's establishment, generously asking that
+Maurice be appointed his successor, and privately agreeing that if Mr.
+Ferguson would pay him the same salary he had himself received, he
+would make up any part that he might not earn. But I am glad to say
+that Maurice turned over a new leaf, and stimulated by the double pay
+now received, became so much more efficient that Gilbert was not called
+upon to make good any deficiency. As for Gilbert himself, at the
+suggestion of Mordaunt, his roommate, he decided to study law, entering
+the office of the latter, now in successful practice. In due time he
+was admitted to the bar. He spent a year in Cincinnati, but was led
+then to remove to Wisconsin, Bessie Benton accompanying him as his
+wife. Here he soon began to win reputation, and at this moment he holds
+a position of high official trust in his adopted State.
+
+We take leave of "Tom, the Bootblack," trusting that the record of his
+struggles and final success may inspire all boys who read it to emulate
+him in bold and manly effort.
+
+
+
+
+THE BURIED TREASURE.
+
+
+Davie Cameron was only a poor peasant, and the cottage or _sheiling_
+where he dwelt was a humble one, even for that wild Scottish valley;
+but though he had a small habitation, and was poor in worldly goods, he
+had a large heart, and was rich in that contentment which is better
+than gold. He often averred that he envied not the king on his throne,
+though, considering what very poor luck the Scottish monarchs have had,
+you may think that wasn't saying much.
+
+Davie was gardener to the Laird of Lanarkville, just as his father had
+been gardener to a former Laird of Lanarkville, and his grandfather to
+one still more remote.
+
+If the testimony of Davie's old grandmother was to be trusted, the
+ancient glories of the house of Lanark had dwindled away from
+generation to generation, so that nowadays there was nothing to be
+compared with the splendors she had seen when she was a lassie. She was
+greatly scandalized because the present laird not only superintended
+the affairs of his estate, but had even been known to labor with his
+own hands.
+
+"His forbears wad hae scorned to do the like," she would exclaim,
+adding, with a mysterious shake of the head, "but gin the young laird
+had a' that belanged to him, he wad na need to dicker and delve like
+ane o' his ain sarvants, forsooth!"
+
+The story which lay concealed in these words was this:
+
+In the year 1745, when the then existing laird forsook his home to
+follow the fortunes of Prince Charles Edward--for he was a staunch
+Jacobite--he enclosed his treasure in an iron box and buried it in the
+earth. The sole witness and aid to this transaction was his faithful
+follower, Hugh Cameron.
+
+At the battle of Culloden Lanark was killed, and Hugh received a wound
+which proved mortal. Before he died he confided the secret of the
+buried treasure to his younger brother, Archie, and would fain have
+directed him to its hiding-place, but when he had uttered the words
+"under the Rowan tree in" ----, his spirit departed, and the sentence
+was left forever unfinished.
+
+Years passed before Archie returned again to his home, and when he did
+return there Lanark estate had been partially laid waste by English
+soldiers. Rowan trees there were in plenty, but some had newly sprung
+up, and many old ones had been laid low, so that where in all those
+broad lands the iron box lay concealed, it was impossible to determine.
+
+Diligent search was made for it, from time to time, but without
+success; and when that generation had passed away the tradition came to
+be regarded as doubtful, if not fabulous.
+
+But old Mrs. Cameron, who, although not born at the time of the battle
+of Culloden, had heard the story in her childhood from her grandfather,
+who was no other than Archie himself, believed it as she believed the
+truths of Holy Writ.
+
+But then the "auld gudewife" believed in many other things which her
+posterity had grown wise enough to reject,--such as wraiths, witches,
+spunkies, and the like; and if rallied on the subject she would reply,
+indignantly, "And did na I my ain sel', see the fairies dancing in the
+briken-shaw, one Halloween?"
+
+Moreover, Mrs. Cameron held fast to the Jacobite principles of her
+ancestors, for one of whom she claimed the honor of having once
+sheltered the young chevalier in the days of his perilous and weary
+wanderings. In acknowledgment of the act the prince had given him a
+gold buckle from his hat, and promised to bestow upon him the order of
+knighthood, whenever he should come to the throne. The order, of
+course, was never received, but the buckle was still carefully
+preserved.
+
+So Davie gave no more heed to her family traditions and wild border
+tales than to her stories of witches and fairies, but just classed them
+all together, and when she said to him, as he was going to his daily
+labor on the laird's land,--
+
+"Ah, Davie, but there's a mickle treasure hid there, and wha kens but
+you'll be the lucky finder?" he replied, with a laugh,--
+
+"Nae doubt, nae doubt, a mickle treasure o' kale and potatoes, and who
+so likely to find it as the laird's gardener?" and then he shouldered
+his spade and went off whistling:
+
+    "Contented wi' little, and canty wi' mair."
+
+But one day, long to be remembered, as he was hard at work, without a
+thought of grandmother and her legends, his spade struck against
+something hard, which proved to be the root of a tree.
+
+"You're an auld tenant, but ye'll have to quit," quoth Davie, tugging
+away manfully at the offender.
+
+It obstinately refused to yield, and, laying open the earth with his
+spade, he discovered that it had twined itself again and again round
+some object which he at first supposed to be a stone. A closer
+examination, however, showed that it was not a stone, but _a rusty iron
+box_!
+
+Then the dying words of Hugh Cameron rushed to Davie's mind, and he had
+no difficulty in completing the sentence which death had cut short,
+"Under the Rowan tree in--_the garden_!"
+
+That it had stood there--the only tree of its kind--in the days of the
+rebellion, was afterwards shown by consulting an old plan of the
+estate.
+
+Davie's first impulse was to summon a witness to the spot, but
+remembering that the laird had gone to Edinburgh for a few days, he
+changed his mind, and decided to impart the secret to no one till he
+came back. To leave the box where it was, or anywhere else on the
+premises, would be the same thing as to proclaim his discovery, as the
+servants would be sure to find it; so he concluded to take it home and
+conceal it in his own barn.
+
+Now Davie was an honest man--at least he had always supposed himself to
+be--and if you, or I, or another, had insinuated aught to the contrary,
+he would have been highly indignant. And yet it is a fact that as he
+went out of the garden with the chest on his wheelbarrow along with the
+garden tools, the whole carefully concealed with oat straw, he felt
+like a thief!
+
+Meeting some of his cronies, with whom at ordinary times he would have
+held a _jolly crack_, he now hurried by with a mere "Gude-e'en,
+neebor," and when he saw the minister coming that way he crossed the
+road rather than speak to the godly man.
+
+As he turned into the lane which led to his own cottage, little Jamie,
+who had been on the watch for him, came running out to beg for a ride
+on the wheelbarrow; and instead of catching him in his arms for a kiss,
+as was his wont, he angrily bade him "gang hame to his mither."
+
+The disappointed child looked up in his father's face, and then,
+without saying a word, but sobbing bitterly, trotted back to the house.
+
+There was in the barn a closet where Davie kept his garden tools, and
+which was seldom entered by any one save himself. There he deposited
+the chest, which had already begun to exercise a baleful influence, and
+which was destined to work him still further woe.
+
+He had intended--or he had made himself believe that he intended--to
+restore the box to its owner without opening it; but now that it was in
+his own possession, he felt an almost irresistible desire to see what
+it contained.
+
+"Belike it's nae treasure, after a'," said he to himself; "but only
+some auld trash not worth a groat."
+
+With that he placed his hand on the lid and shook it gently, scarcely
+dreaming that it would yield without hammer and chisel; but both the
+rust-eaten lock and hinges gave way at once, and the cover fell to the
+floor with a startling crash.
+
+Enclosed within the box were the gold and silver plate of the Lanark
+family.
+
+Forth from their long burial they came to glitter once more in the
+sunlight, though the eyes that looked upon them last were years since
+closed upon all earthly scenes, and the soul of him who placed them
+there had gone, let us trust, to find a better treasure, where neither
+moth nor rust corrupts, nor thieves break through and steal.
+
+From the time that Davie Cameron found the buried treasure he was a
+changed man. He who was once so genial and light-hearted was now moody
+and sullen. Once home had been to him the pleasantest spot in all the
+world; but burdened with a consciousness of guilt, he could not bear to
+look in the faces of his unsuspecting family, and by degrees he fell
+into the habit of passing his evenings at the ale-house.
+
+At first he took no part in the carousals of the place; but in the
+nature of things this could not last, and in the end he became as
+reckless and as riotous as any of his companions.
+
+It was thus he formed an intimacy with Andy Ferguson. That he was a
+wild and dissipated young man was well known, and much was darkly
+hinted, which never came to light.
+
+This man soon discovered that Davie had something on his mind, and
+taking advantage of the confiding mood produced by liberal libations of
+Scotch whiskey and strong beer, he succeeded in drawing the secret from
+him. He at once proposed that they should dispose of the treasure and
+divide the proceeds, ridiculing the scruples and laughing at the fears
+of his more timid companion. He avowed his readiness to take all the
+risk, and threatened, if he were thwarted in his plans, to make the
+matter public.
+
+So Davie, feeling that he was fairly caught within the toils, yielded.
+But though tempted, weak and erring, he was not hardened, and the
+thought of the crime he was about to commit weighed heavily on his
+spirits. He became more irritable than ever, and when his wife asked,
+in her cheery way:
+
+"What ails ye, Davie? Prithee, why sae doure, gude man?" he answered,
+fretfully:
+
+"Whisht, woman, and dinna fash me wi' questions."
+
+But one there was whose presence and whose playful ways never seemed to
+vex him, and that was his pet bairn, Nannie, his _wee lammie_, as he
+often called her.
+
+Nannie had been well taught in books, as the Scottish peasantry, unlike
+the same class in Ireland, usually are. She was regularly seen in her
+place at kirk, and knew the Assembly's Catechism by heart. She could
+repeat whole chapters from the Bible, and, better still, had ever
+ordered her simple life according to its precepts. In addition to all
+these merits, she had a sweet, innocent face, a guileless, loving
+heart, and was named by the youth of the neighborhood the Bonnie
+Shepherdess.
+
+It is needless to say that Nannie had many admirers. Among others, Andy
+Ferguson had not failed to notice her beauty and winning ways.
+
+He had sometimes given her a bunch of flowers, or assisted her in
+finding a stray lamb, attentions which she had received with sweetness
+and modesty, as she would have accepted the same from any other of the
+shepherd lads. But of love he never spoke or hinted, until one summer
+evening he joined her as she was driving home her sheep to the fold.
+
+After addressing to her all the pretty, flattering things, which, I am
+told, are common on such occasions, he plainly asked her to be his
+wife.
+
+"I'm but a wee lassie, ower young to think o' wedding this mony a day,"
+she replied.
+
+"And so ye might be, gin I were a feckless laddie, like Rob Ainslee, or
+Tam o' the Glen; but I hae riches, ye ken. Ye'll never need to fash
+yoursel' wi' wark, but just sing like the lane-rock, fra morn till
+e'en."
+
+"Little care I for your riches," said Nannie, who, for reasons of her
+own, was vexed at this allusion to Rob Ainslee. "Does na the Scripture
+say a gude name is better to be chosen than gold?"
+
+"And wha says aught against my gude name?" exclaimed he, with lowering
+brow.
+
+"Andy Ferguson," said Nannie, pausing and looking him in the face, "it
+grieves me to gi' you or ony creature pain; but ye maun speak to me nae
+mair o' love or marriage--no, never. Ye maun gang your ain gait an'
+leave me to gae mine. As to your gude name, does na everybody ken--an'
+sorry I am to say it--where your evenings are spent, and what sort o'
+company ye keep?"
+
+At this Andy laughed a loud, scornful laugh. "Nae doubt everybody kens
+that for the maist part my evenings are spent at the 'Twa Dogs'; and as
+to the company there, there is nae sae frequent guest as your honored
+father."
+
+"And wha led him into sic ways but your ain sel'? Weel does the Bible
+say a man canna touch pitch and not be defiled therewith."
+
+"Just to hear her quote Scripture! Ane wad tak her for the minister, or
+a holy elder, at least. But leuk you here, lassie, say it was I that
+put the cup to my neebor's lips, for you see I can quote Scripture,
+too. Wha was it taught him to be a thief?"
+
+"Gang awa, Andy Ferguson, awa, for I will na listen to sic words anent
+my ain dear father. Awa, I say," she repeated, waving her little hand,
+as he seemed inclined to follow her.
+
+"Sin' ye will na believe me, gae ask him what he has done wi' the
+laird's siller and gowd. Just speir him that," called Andy after her,
+and then he strode away down the glen.
+
+She hastened on, and leaving her few sheep to wander at their will, she
+sought her father. She found him sitting on a knoll behind the byre,
+leaning his head on his hands. Throwing herself on the grass beside
+him, she told him of her interview with Andy, his offer of marriage and
+her refusal.
+
+"I hope ye did na anger him," said he, hastily.
+
+"Why, father, what ill can his anger do us? Ye wad na ha'e me marry a
+ne'er-do-weel, like Andy. And, father, I ha'e na told ye all. He called
+ye a thief, father, a thief. I knew it was a lee, a wicked lee. Dinna
+think your little Nannie believed it. And then he bade me speir what ye
+had done wi' the laird's siller and gowd."
+
+To her great grief and surprise, her father sunk his face in his hands
+again with a low groan, but answered not a word.
+
+"Winna ye speak to me and tell me what it a' means?" said she, twining
+her arms over his shoulder.
+
+"Sin' ye maun know, then, it is true; a' true that he tauld ye. O, my
+bonnie bairn!" said he, in a tone of ineffable sadness. And then he
+told her how he had found the treasure, and of the sinful compact he
+had made with Andy.
+
+"But ye ha'e kept it a' safe, dear father?" cried Nannie, joyfully.
+
+"A' safe. I ha'e not sae much as ta'en it frae the box."
+
+"Then there is naught to do but take it back to the laird and tell him
+here is his treasure, safe and sound."
+
+"And then he'll speir me how I came by it, and wherefore I kept it sae
+lang, and a' about it. And then, belike, he'll shut me up in prison. O,
+lassie, ye dinna think what ye're saying. Could ye bear to see your
+puir father shut up in a prison? Could ye ever hold up your head again
+for the shame o't?"
+
+"Better, far better be innocent and in prison, than guilty and go free.
+O, for my sake, for your wee lammie's sake, take back the laird's
+siller and gowd."
+
+"Or, if he should na imprison me," he continued, "he will take frae me
+the place that has been mine, and my father's, and my grandfather's
+afore me. I shall na ha'e where to lay my head, na shelter for you, my
+bairn, an' Davie Cameron's name will be cast out as evil. Ha'e ye weel
+considered a' that, Nannie?"
+
+"The future nane can foresee," replied she; "but this I know, that it
+is always safe to do the thing that is right. Then will the gude God
+care for us as He cares for the wee birdie that is lilting sae sweetly
+on yonder thorn. And of this be certain, dear father, that come honor
+or shame, come weal, come woe, your little Nannie will cleave to you as
+long as life shall last."
+
+"Then, my blessed bairn, it shall be as you say." And even as Davie
+uttered these words, the clouds lifted. All the misery and uncertainty
+were gone, to be succeeded by calmness and resolution.
+
+Rising up from the ground, he paused only for a kiss from Nannie, and
+went without delay to restore the chest to its rightful owner.
+
+Simply and truthfully he told his story from first to last; adding,
+"And now I ha'e brought back wi' me the treasure I wrangfully took. Do
+wi' me as ye list."
+
+The laird was overjoyed to recover this ancient and valuable family
+relic, and instead of greeting Davie with anger and threats of
+punishment, as he had expected, came near overwhelming him with
+gratitude, addressing him as "my good man."
+
+"But ye dinna understand," said the bewildered Davie. "I ha'e na been
+gude. I e'en had it in my heart to be a thief, a wicked, pawkie thief."
+
+"What you _intended_ to do matters less to me than what you have really
+done," answered the good-natured laird.
+
+"Are ye na going to put me in prison, or turn me out o' my place?"
+
+"On the contrary, I am going to reward you for the service you have
+rendered."
+
+"That maun na be," cried Davie, drawing back. "Dinna ask me. I seek na
+reward but to feel that I can once mair look my fellow-creatures in the
+face, _an honest man_. An' the story o' what I ha'e suffered shall aye
+be a warning to me, and to my bairns after me, _to flee frae
+temptation_."
+
+A happy circle was that which gathered round Davie's ingle that night,
+the ingle from which the ale-house never again had power to allure him.
+
+Jean, the gudewife, with her sewing in her hand, and the old gray cat
+at her feet, shall be the central figure. Grandmother sits on one side
+of the fireplace, spinning flax--ever and anon bursting out into some
+old Jacobite song--and Davie himself in the arm-chair, on the other
+side, with Jamie on his knee. On a low seat close by him is Nannie--now
+looking into her father's face, and now glancing beyond--for there sits
+Robbie Ainslee.
+
+And so we drop the curtain.
+
+
+
+
+LLOYD'S FIRE ON THE BEACH.
+
+
+Lloyd and Jem were squatted up among the rocks, watching a vessel out
+to sea.
+
+It was a cold evening,--Christmas eve,--the night coming on fast. No
+vessel had any business to be out there among the breakers, running in
+straight on the bar; that is, if any man aboard of her knew what he was
+about.
+
+So Lloyd and Jem said, at least, and they had a right to know, as they
+had been born and bred on that bit of rocky island, and knew every foot
+of the sea within a mile, as well as they knew their own crab-boats and
+drag-nets.
+
+The vessel was a small schooner, such as ran down to the island from
+town in summer with flour, and took back crabs and fish.
+
+"But what can she want now?" said Jem.
+
+"She don't know the coast," said Lloyd. "She'll be on the rocks in an
+hour, if she don't tack."
+
+Jem went to school over on the mainland in winter. There was no need
+for him to work so hard, either. The money he made by gunning or
+fishing he spent for tops and kites. But Lloyd's mother, Mrs. Wells,
+who lived in a little brown cottage back of the rocks, was not able to
+keep him and herself without his help. For two or three years he had
+worked as hard as any man on the island. There had been another son of
+Mrs. Wells, older than Lloyd, a young man called John. But he had been
+mate on the _Swallow_, that was wrecked on the Irish coast four years
+ago, when all the crew were lost--never heard of again.
+
+So there was nobody left but Lloyd. In winter, when there was no
+fishing, he whittled crosses and paper-knives out of the cedars,
+trimming them with lichen, and sent them over to town for sale.
+
+In the evenings he would go out for a run and whiff of fresh air. He
+and Jem were cruising about when they spied the schooner.
+
+They sat quite still a good while, watching her beating about, going
+out to the open sea, and then turning as often, and heading toward the
+coast on which they sat.
+
+"It's plain that she's trying to make this island," said Jem.
+
+"Yes, sir. She'll go to pieces if she tries it," answered Lloyd, taking
+off his cap and putting it on again, emphatically. "Yes, sir; she'll go
+to pieces."
+
+"If there was anybody aboard that knew of Cook's Crack!"
+
+"How could anybody aboard _that_ schooner know of Cook's Crack?" said
+Lloyd, contemptuously.
+
+"That's so. How could they? Sure enough."
+
+Then the boys blew on their fingers to keep them warm, and hustled in
+closer under the rocks, clasping their hands about their knees.
+
+Now, to make you town boys understand, I must tell you that the
+schooners in summer landed at the village, which was a couple of miles
+from the point where the boys were. The shore off from where they sat
+was full of hidden rocks and sand bars running out under the froth and
+swirl of the waves, against which no ship could run without having her
+bottom ripped up.
+
+But through these rocks there was one narrow opening, through which the
+sea ran clear and deep, making a safe channel to the shore. This was
+Cook's Crack. Very few of the fishermen knew of it. It was not likely,
+therefore, that anybody on board of the schooner would be able to pilot
+her through it.
+
+"She's bound to run ashore," said Jem. "What'll we do, Lloyd?"
+
+All the boys asked Lloyd what to do whenever there was any trouble. He
+did not answer at once, being busy considering.
+
+"Go down to the village, Jem, and let some of the men go out with a
+boat to them!"
+
+"That will be too late to do any good. It will be dark before I reach
+the village, and there's no moon. Nobody could go out after night in
+that sea. Besides, she's putting in so fast, she'll be on the rocks in
+half an hour."
+
+"Do you go to the village, Jem!" said Lloyd, quietly. He was in
+dreadful doubt himself as to whether he was right. But a captain, he
+knew, never should let his crew see that he was in doubt; and Lloyd
+knew he must be captain in this case. Jem had legs to run and a tongue
+to give a message, but he had no head to plan or execute.
+
+"All right!" said Jem, good-naturedly. "I'm off."
+
+When he was gone on the full run, Lloyd stood thinking. There were no
+men nearer than the village. Whatever he did, he must do alone. He was
+tired of acting a man's part and doing a man's work, though the other
+boys often envied him. His head and bones ached most of the time, and
+he was getting a sober, old, wizened face.
+
+He wished often that he could have a month of downright play and
+idleness; and no doubt it would have been the very best thing for him.
+However, now he had to manage all alone.
+
+"I'll go up to supper, or mother will be uneasy," he said at last. He
+would be back in half an hour, and before that he could do nothing. The
+wind drove the schooner back, so that she could not reach the rocks
+under an hour. Lloyd's eyes were sharper than Jem's.
+
+He did not tell his mother about the schooner. She was a little woman,
+not strong, and she was easily frightened.
+
+Lloyd tried to keep all trouble from her, as he knew his brother John
+had done when he was living.
+
+She was waiting for him. "Come, sonny, boy. Here's fish for supper, and
+good corn bread."
+
+Lloyd laughed, and washed his hands. He joked and talked all the time
+he was eating, though he was terribly anxious about the schooner. He
+would have liked, too, to have some nourishing tea for his mother, or a
+warmer dress than the thin one she wore. But John had been a hearty,
+cheerful fellow, keeping up everybody's heart.
+
+"There's no use shoving trouble on to mother," thought Lloyd.
+
+After supper he heaped up the fire, put her chair in the warmest
+corner, and brought her knitting all ready. She had a great basket full
+of socks and stockings, big and little, ready to send for sale down to
+the town.
+
+"Are you going out again, Lloyd?" when he kissed her. "It's a bitter
+night."
+
+"Down on the beach a bit, mother. You go to bed early. I'll be in all
+right and safe."
+
+He seemed to have forgotten that it was Christmas eve. His mother had
+not. She looked after him sorrowfully. In old times, when his father
+was alive, Christmas had been a great holiday for his boys. Afterward,
+John had made it so for Lloyd. Now, she had not a penny to spare to buy
+him a book or a toy, such as other boys had down in the village, even
+the poorest. Even the new shoes which she had hoped to be able to buy,
+to take the place of his broken boots, she had to give up.
+
+She thought it was but a dull, poor life coming for Lloyd. He was too
+young to be put to hard, hard work with neither chance for learning nor
+play. But, as she sat looking in the fire, she suddenly remembered how
+God, who held the great, moaning sea and the starless night in the
+hollow of His hand, held her, too, and her boy.
+
+In the meantime, Lloyd was down on the beach. It was growing dark fast.
+The schooner was beating about uncertainly, yet evidently determined to
+reach the island.
+
+Lloyd had made up his mind. There was no way to give her warning. All
+he could do was to guide her, if possible, into the safe channel.
+
+He went down to the landing opposite Cook's Crack, and began making a
+half-circle of bits of rock and sand, to keep off the wind from the
+fire he meant to make.
+
+Then he began collecting sticks, dried grass, and bits of old wrecks,
+with which the beach was strewed.
+
+Now, making a bonfire no doubt appears to you, boys, to be only fine
+fun, and you think Lloyd a very lucky fellow to have the chance. But a
+bonfire in the street, on a summer night, or down in a vacant lot, is a
+very different matter from Lloyd's work, alone, on a December night,
+with the salt water plashing about his legs, and his breath freezing
+about his mouth. Besides, he knew that the lives of the ship's crew
+depended on what he did, or left undone. And he was not a man, to be
+sure he was right, but a boy, only thirteen years old.
+
+He heaped up the wood on the light pile of drift, struck a match and
+put it to it, and in a minute the big flames flashed out all over the
+dark rocks, and the black, seething plane of the sea, and the wedges of
+ice that lay along shore. It was very cheery at first. Lloyd gave a
+grand hurrah! and capered about it. But one does not care to hurrah and
+caper alone. He thought the schooner would be in, now, in half an hour.
+
+"They'll make straight for the fire," he said.
+
+But half an hour, an hour passed, and, strain his eyes as he would, he
+could see nothing but inky darkness, and hear nothing but the dull
+swash, swash of the tide upon the sand. The fire was dying down. He
+went groping up and down the beach for wood, and built it up again.
+
+Two hours. Three.
+
+It was terribly cold. Overhead there was neither moon nor star, only a
+flat of black fog descending lower and lower. Surely the schooner had
+gone. Suddenly he heard a cry.
+
+It was Jem.
+
+"Why, Lloyd! Are you crazy? Do you know this is the coldest night this
+year on the island? My father says so."
+
+"It's not so very cold," said Lloyd, beginning to hop about the fire,
+and sing. "That schooner's due now, I should say." It heartened him so
+to hear anybody's voice.
+
+"The schooner's gone hours ago, I dare say. You'd have heard from her
+before now if she meant to run in."
+
+"Did the men go out?"
+
+"No. It was dark when I reached the village. Too late. I say, Lloyd,"
+clapping his hands to keep warm, "come home. This is nonsense. I am
+going."
+
+Now Jem was older than Lloyd, and though Lloyd was always captain of
+the two, still he was half frozen, and very willing to be tempted.
+
+"_Do_ you think it's nonsense?" pushing the logs with his foot,
+doubtfully.
+
+"Of course I do. I'm going."
+
+"Don't go yet, Jem," Lloyd begged. It was horribly lonely here in the
+cold, and dark, and storm.
+
+"I'll wait while I count ten," standing first on one leg and then the
+other.
+
+Lloyd looked out to sea. Nothing there but blackness and the dreadful,
+incessant moaning. The fire was nearly out. What was the use of working
+all night for people who were away out on their homeward journey,
+knowing and caring nothing for him? Up at the cottage his mother had a
+nice fire for him; a warm bed.
+
+He began kicking the embers apart. "It does seem like folly," he said.
+
+But on the other hand, what if the schooner were there still, with
+nothing but his fire to guide her to safety? There was a chance of
+that; the merest chance. But there was one.
+
+"I'll stay, Jem. You can go home."
+
+Jem hesitated a moment, and then started at a quick run for home. His
+steps sounded very dreary, beating along the shore.
+
+Lloyd went to work to collect more wood. He had to grope among the icy
+mass along shore to find his way. The tide was rising and the frozen
+spray half blinded him. Besides, he was not warmly clothed.
+
+Now I am not going to tell you a painful story, so I will not dwell on
+this long night; the longest in Lloyd Wells' life, perhaps, though he
+lived to be an old man.
+
+No sound came to him from the sea to show that the schooner was there
+or that his work was of use. But still he did not once give it up.
+
+All night he groped and tugged at the scattered bits of wood, piled
+them up, keeping himself in motion, not daring to close his eyes,
+knowing that if he did he would never waken. All night long.
+
+But at last he stumbled and sank, and did not rise again. The cold and
+weariness were too much for the lad, if his heart was that of a man.
+
+As he fell he heard a grating sound on the beach--voices--shouts. Was
+it the schooner? Had he saved them?
+
+                     *      *      *      *      *
+
+He woke in his mother's bed. She was leaning over him, crying, laughing
+at once. There was a man beside her with his arm about her waist,
+stooping over Lloyd, patting his pale little face; a tall, bronzed man;
+but the eyes and mouth were those of the little photograph framed in
+black that hung over his mother's bed.
+
+Lloyd tried to raise his head. "John," he cried, "O, John."
+
+John took him in his strong arms and cried over him, big man as he was.
+
+"Yes, I've got back, Lloyd. I've had a rough time of it these three
+years. But I'm home now, with plenty of money in my pocket, thank God!
+And I'll take the load off of your shoulders, my boy, and mother's.
+You're going to have time to live like other boys, Lloyd. And we'll
+begin to-morrow, by keeping such a Christmas as was never known. We'll
+buy out half the stores in the village."
+
+It was his old way of rattling on, but he could not keep the choking
+from his throat. Lloyd's mother sat down and held her two boys' hands
+in hers, and said nothing.
+
+"Were you in the schooner?" asked Lloyd, when he found strength to
+speak.
+
+"Yes, your fire saved us, Lloyd."
+
+"I am glad of that. I wonder what Jem will say now," laughed Lloyd.
+
+But his mother was thinking how God had held both her boys in the
+hollow of His hand that night.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Tom, The Bootblack, by Horatio Alger
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