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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:14:43 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:14:43 -0700 |
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diff --git a/296-h/296-h.htm b/296-h/296-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d745b71 --- /dev/null +++ b/296-h/296-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6311 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + The Cash Boy, by Horatio Alger, Jr. + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cash Boy, by Horatio Alger Jr. + +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: The Cash Boy + +Author: Horatio Alger Jr. + +Release Date: March 14, 2006 [EBook #296] +Last Updated: September 18, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CASH BOY *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE CASH BOY + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Horatio Alger, Jr. + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I -- A REVELATION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II -- MRS. FOWLER’S STORY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III -- LEFT ALONE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV -- THE TOWN AUTOCRAT</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V -- A LITTLE MISUNDERSTANDING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI -- FRANK GETS A PLACE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII -- THE CASH BOY HAS AN ADVENTURE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII -- AN UNEXPECTED ENGAGEMENT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX -- THE HOUSEKEEPER’S NEPHEW </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X -- THE HOUSEKEEPER SCHEMING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI -- JOHN WADE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII -- A FALSE FRIEND </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII -- THE SPIDER AND THE FLY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV -- SPRINGING THE TRAP </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV -- FROM BAD TO WORSE</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI -- AN ACCOMPLICE FOUND </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII -- FRANK AND HIS JAILER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII -- “OVER THE HILL TO THE POORHOUSE” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX -- WHAT FRANK HEARD THROUGH THE CREVICE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX -- THE ESCAPE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI -- JOHN WADE’S DISAPPOINTMENT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII -- CONCLUSION </a> + </p> + + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + PREFACE + </h2> + <p> + “The Cash Boy,” by Horatio Alger, Jr., as the name implies, is a story + about a boy and for boys. + </p> + <p> + Through some conspiracy, the hero of the story when a baby, was taken from + his relatives and given into the care of a kind woman. + </p> + <p> + Not knowing his name, she gave him her husband’s name, Frank Fowler. She + had one little daughter, Grace, and showing no partiality in the treatment + of her children, Frank never suspected that she was not his sister. + However, at the death of Mrs. Fowler, all this was related to Frank. + </p> + <p> + The children were left alone in the world. It seemed as though they would + have to go to the poorhouse but Frank could not become reconciled to that. + </p> + <p> + A kind neighbor agreed to care for Grace, so Frank decided to start out in + the world to make his way. + </p> + <p> + He had many disappointments and hardships, but through his kindness to an + old man, his own relatives and right name were revealed to him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <h3> + A REVELATION + </h3> + <p> + A group of boys was assembled in an open field to the west of the public + schoolhouse in the town of Crawford. Most of them held hats in their + hands, while two, stationed sixty feet distant from each other, were + “having catch.” + </p> + <p> + Tom Pinkerton, son of Deacon Pinkerton, had just returned from Brooklyn, + and while there had witnessed a match game between two professional clubs. + On his return he proposed that the boys of Crawford should establish a + club, to be known as the Excelsior Club of Crawford, to play among + themselves, and on suitable occasions to challenge clubs belonging to + other villages. This proposal was received with instant approval. + </p> + <p> + “I move that Tom Pinkerton address the meeting,” said one boy. + </p> + <p> + “Second the motion,” said another. + </p> + <p> + As there was no chairman, James Briggs was appointed to that position, and + put the motion, which was unanimously carried. + </p> + <p> + Tom Pinkerton, in his own estimation a personage of considerable + importance, came forward in a consequential manner, and commenced as + follows: + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Chairman and boys. You all know what has brought us together. We want + to start a club for playing baseball, like the big clubs they have in + Brooklyn and New York.” + </p> + <p> + “How shall we do it?” asked Henry Scott. + </p> + <p> + “We must first appoint a captain of the club, who will have power to + assign the members to their different positions. Of course you will want + one that understands about these matters.” + </p> + <p> + “He means himself,” whispered Henry Scott, to his next neighbor; and here + he was right. + </p> + <p> + “Is that all?” asked Sam Pomeroy. + </p> + <p> + “No; as there will be some expenses, there must be a treasurer to receive + and take care of the funds, and we shall need a secretary to keep the + records of the club, and write and answer challenges.” + </p> + <p> + “Boys,” said the chairman, “you have heard Tom Pinkerton’s remarks. Those + who are in favor of organizing a club on this plan will please signify it + in the usual way.” + </p> + <p> + All the boys raised their hands, and it was declared a vote. + </p> + <p> + “You will bring in your votes for captain,” said the chairman. + </p> + <p> + Tom Pinkerton drew a little apart with a conscious look, as he supposed, + of course, that no one but himself would be thought of as leader. + </p> + <p> + Slips of paper were passed around, and the boys began to prepare their + ballots. They were brought to the chairman in a hat, and he forthwith took + them out and began to count them. + </p> + <p> + “Boys,” he announced, amid a universal stillness, “there is one vote for + Sam Pomeroy, one for Eugene Morton, and the rest are for Frank Fowler, who + is elected.” + </p> + <p> + There was a clapping of hands, in which Tom Pinkerton did not join. + </p> + <p> + Frank Fowler, who is to be our hero, came forward a little, and spoke + modestly as follows: + </p> + <p> + “Boys, I thank you for electing me captain of the club. I am afraid I am + not very well qualified for the place, but I will do as well as I can.” + </p> + <p> + The speaker was a boy of fourteen. He was of medium height for his age, + strong and sturdy in build, and with a frank prepossessing countenance, + and an open, cordial manner, which made him a general favorite. It was + not, however, to his popularity that he owed his election, but to the fact + that both at bat and in the field he excelled all the boys, and therefore + was the best suited to take the lead. + </p> + <p> + The boys now proceeded to make choice of a treasurer and secretary. For + the first position Tom Pinkerton received a majority of the votes. Though + not popular, it was felt that some office was due him. + </p> + <p> + For secretary, Ike Stanton, who excelled in penmanship, was elected, and + thus all the offices were filled. + </p> + <p> + The boys now crowded around Frank Fowler, with petitions for such places + as they desired. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you will give me a little time before I decide about positions, + boys,” Frank said; “I want to consider a little.” + </p> + <p> + “All right! Take till next week,” said one and another, “and let us have a + scrub game this afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + The boys were in the middle of the sixth inning, when some one called out + to Frank Fowler: “Frank, your sister is running across the field. I think + she wants you.” + </p> + <p> + Frank dropped his bat and hastened to meet his sister. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter, Gracie?” he asked in alarm. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Frank!” she exclaimed, bursting into tears. “Mother’s been bleeding + at the lungs, and she looks so white. I’m afraid she’s very sick.” + </p> + <p> + “Boys,” said Frank, turning to his companions, “I must go home at once. + You can get some one to take my place, my mother is very sick.” + </p> + <p> + When Frank reached the little brown cottage which he called home, he found + his mother in an exhausted state reclining on the bed. + </p> + <p> + “How do you feel, mother?” asked our hero, anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “Quite weak, Frank,” she answered in a low voice. “I have had a severe + attack.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me go for the doctor, mother.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think it will be necessary, Frank. The attack is over, and I need + no medicines, only time to bring back my strength.” + </p> + <p> + But three days passed, and Mrs. Fowler’s nervous prostration continued. + She had attacks previously from which she rallied sooner, and her present + weakness induced serious misgivings as to whether she would ever recover. + Frank thought that her eyes followed him with more than ordinary anxiety, + and after convincing himself that this was the case, he drew near his + mother’s bedside, and inquired: + </p> + <p> + “Mother, isn’t there something you want me to do?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, I believe, Frank.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you looked at me as if you wanted to say something.” “There is + something I must say to you before I die.” + </p> + <p> + “Before you die, mother!” echoed Frank, in a startled voice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Frank, I am beginning to think that this is my last sickness.” + </p> + <p> + “But, mother, you have been so before, and got up again.” + </p> + <p> + “There must always be a last time, Frank; and my strength is too far + reduced to rally again, I fear.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t bear the thought of losing you, mother,” said Frank, deeply + moved. + </p> + <p> + “You will miss me, then, Frank?” said Mrs. Fowler. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I not? Grace and I will be alone in the world.” + </p> + <p> + “Alone in the world!” repeated the sick woman, sorrowfully, “with little + help to hope for from man, for I shall leave you nothing. Poor children!” + </p> + <p> + “That isn’t what I think of,” said Frank, hastily. + </p> + <p> + “I can support myself.” + </p> + <p> + “But Grace? She is a delicate girl,” said the mother, anxiously. “She + cannot make her way as you can.” + </p> + <p> + “She won’t need to,” said Frank, promptly; “I shall take care of her.” + </p> + <p> + “But you are very young even to support yourself. You are only fourteen.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it, mother, but I am strong, and I am not afraid. There are a + hundred ways of making a living.” + </p> + <p> + “But do you realize that you will have to start with absolutely nothing? + Deacon Pinkerton holds a mortgage on this house for all it will bring in + the market, and I owe him arrears of interest besides.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t know that, mother, but it doesn’t frighten me.” + </p> + <p> + “And you will take care of Grace?” + </p> + <p> + “I promise it, mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose Grace were not your sister?” said the sick woman, anxiously + scanning the face of the boy. + </p> + <p> + “What makes you suppose such a thing as that, mother? Of course she is my + sister.” + </p> + <p> + “But suppose she were not,” persisted Mrs. Fowler, “you would not recall + your promise?” + </p> + <p> + “No, surely not, for I love her. But why do you talk so, mother?” and a + suspicion crossed Frank’s mind that his mother’s intellect might be + wandering. + </p> + <p> + “It is time to tell you all, Frank. Sit down by the bedside, and I will + gather my strength to tell you what must be told.” + </p> + <p> + “Grace is not your sister, Frank!” + </p> + <p> + “Not my sister, mother?” he exclaimed. “You are not in earnest?” + </p> + <p> + “I am quite in earnest, Frank.” + </p> + <p> + “Then whose child is she?” + </p> + <p> + “She is my child.” + </p> + <p> + “Then she must be my sister—are you not my mother?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Frank, I am not your mother!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <h3> + MRS. FOWLER’S STORY + </h3> + <p> + “Not my mother!” he exclaimed. “Who, then, is my mother?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot tell you, Frank. I never knew. You will forgive me for + concealing this from you for so long.” + </p> + <p> + “No matter who was my real mother since I have you. You have been a mother + to me, and I shall always think of you as such.” + </p> + <p> + “You make me happy, Frank, when you say that. And you will look upon Grace + as a sister also, will you not?” + </p> + <p> + “Always,” said the boy, emphatically. “Mother, will you tell all you know + about me? I don’t know what to think; now that I am not your son I cannot + rest till I learn who I am.” + </p> + <p> + “I can understand your feelings, Frank, but I must defer the explanation + till to-morrow. I have fatigued myself with talking, but to-morrow you + shall know all that I can tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me for not thinking of your being tired, mother,” and he bent + over and pressed his lips upon the cheek of the sick woman. “But don’t + talk any more. Wait till to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon Frank had a call from Sam Pomeroy. + </p> + <p> + “The club is to play to-morrow afternoon against a picked nine, Frank,” he + said. “Will you be there?” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t, Sam,” he answered. “My mother is very sick, and it is my duty to + stay at home with her.” + </p> + <p> + “We shall miss you—that is, all of us but one. Tom Pinkerton said + yesterday that you ought to resign, as you can’t attend to your duties. He + wouldn’t object to filling your place, I fancy.” + </p> + <p> + “He is welcome to the place as soon as the club feels like electing him,” + said Frank. “Tell the boys I am sorry I can’t be on hand. They had better + get you to fill my place.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll mention it, but I don’t think they’ll see it in that light. They’re + all jealous of my superior playing,” said Sam, humorously. “Well, + good-bye, Frank. I hope your mother’ll be better soon.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Sam,” answered Frank, soberly. “I hope so, too, but she is + very sick.” + </p> + <p> + The next day Mrs. Fowler again called Frank to the bedside. + </p> + <p> + “Grace is gone out on an errand,” she said, “and I can find no better time + for telling you what I know about you and the circumstances which led to + my assuming the charge of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you strong enough, mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Frank. Thirteen years ago my husband and myself occupied a small + tenement in that part of Brooklyn know as Gowanus, not far from Greenwood + Cemetery. My husband was a carpenter, and though his wages were small he + was generally employed. We had been married three years, but had no + children of our own. Our expenses were small, and we got on comfortably, + and should have continued to do so, but that Mr. Fowler met with an + accident which partially disabled him. He fell from a high scaffold and + broke his arm. This was set and he was soon able to work again, but he + must also have met with some internal injury, for his full strength never + returned. Half a day’s work tired him more than a whole day’s work + formerly had done. Of course our income was very much diminished, and we + were obliged to economize very closely. This preyed upon my husband’s mind + and seeing his anxiety, I set about considering how I could help him, and + earn my share of the expenses. + </p> + <p> + “One day in looking over the advertising columns of a New York paper I saw + the following advertisement: + </p> + <p> + “‘For adoption—A healthy male infant. The parents are able to pay + liberally for the child’s maintenance, but circumstances compel them to + delegate the care to another. Address for interview A. M.’ + </p> + <p> + “I had no sooner read this advertisement than I felt that it was just what + I wanted. A liberal compensation was promised, and under our present + circumstances would be welcome, as it was urgently needed. I mentioned the + matter to my husband, and he was finally induced to give his consent. + </p> + <p> + “Accordingly, I replied to the advertisement. + </p> + <p> + “Three days passed in which I heard nothing from it. But as we were + sitting at the supper table at six o’clock one afternoon, there came a + knock at our front door. I opened it, and saw before me a tall stranger, a + man of about thirty-five, of dark complexion, and dark whiskers. He was + well dressed, and evidently a gentleman in station. + </p> + <p> + “‘Is this Mrs. Fowler?’ he asked. + </p> + <p> + “‘Yes, sir,’ I answered, in some surprise + </p> + <p> + “‘Then may I beg permission to enter your house for a few minutes? I have + something to say to you.’ + </p> + <p> + “Still wondering, I led the way into the sitting-room, where your father—where + Mr. Fowler——” + </p> + <p> + “Call him my father—I know no other,” said Frank. + </p> + <p> + “Where your father was seated. + </p> + <p> + “‘You have answered an advertisement,’ said the stranger. + </p> + <p> + “‘Yes, sir,’ I replied. + </p> + <p> + “‘I am A. M.,’ was his next announcement. ‘Of course I have received many + letters, but on the whole I was led to consider yours most favorably. I + have made inquiries about you in the neighborhood, and the answers have + been satisfactory. You have no children of your own?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘No, sir.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘All the better. You would be able to give more attention to this child.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Is it yours, sir?’ I asked + </p> + <p> + “‘Ye-es,’ he answered, with hesitation. ‘Circumstances,’ he continued, + ‘circumstances which I need not state, compel me to separate from it. Five + hundred dollars a year will be paid for its maintenance.’ + </p> + <p> + “Five hundred dollars! I heard this with joy, for it was considerably more + than my husband was able to earn since his accident. It would make us + comfortable at once, and your father might work when he pleased, without + feeling any anxiety about our coming to want. + </p> + <p> + “‘Will that sum be satisfactory?’ asked the stranger. + </p> + <p> + “‘It is very liberal,’ I answered. + </p> + <p> + “‘I intended it to be so,’ he said. ‘Since there is no difficulty on this + score, I am inclined to trust you with the care of the child. But I must + make two conditions.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘What are they, sir?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘In the first place, you must not try to find out the friends of the + child. They do not desire to be known. Another thing, you must move from + Brooklyn.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Move from Brooklyn?’ I repeated. + </p> + <p> + “‘Yes,’ he answered, firmly. ‘I do not think it necessary to give you a + reason for this condition. Enough that it is imperative. If you decline, + our negotiations are at an end.’ + </p> + <p> + “I looked at my husband. He seemed as much surprised as I was. + </p> + <p> + “‘Perhaps you will wish to consult together,’ suggested our visitor. ‘If + so, I can give you twenty minutes. I will remain in this room while you go + out and talk it over.’ + </p> + <p> + “We acted on this hint, and went into the kitchen. We decided that though + we should prefer to live in Brooklyn, it would be worth our while to make + the sacrifice for the sake of the addition to our income. We came in at + the end of ten minutes, and announced our decision. Our visitor seemed to + be very much pleased. + </p> + <p> + “‘Where would you wish us to move?’ asked your father. + </p> + <p> + “‘I do not care to designate any particular place. I should prefer some + small country town, from fifty to a hundred miles distant. I suppose you + will be able to move soon?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Yes, sir; we will make it a point to do so. How soon will the child be + placed in our hands? Shall we send for it?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘No, no,’ he said, hastily. ‘I cannot tell you exactly when, but it will + be brought here probably in the course of a day or two. I myself shall + bring it, and if at that time you wish to say anything additional you can + do so.’ + </p> + <p> + “He went away, leaving us surprised and somewhat excited at the change + that was to take place in our lives. The next evening the sound of wheels + was heard, and a hack stopped at our gate. The same gentleman descended + hurriedly with a child in his arms—you were the child, Frank—and + entered the house. + </p> + <p> + “‘This is the child,’ he said, placing it in my arms, ‘and here is the + first quarterly installment of your pay. Three months hence you will + receive the same sum from my agent in New York. Here is his address,’ and + he placed a card in my hands. ‘Have you anything to ask?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Suppose I wish to communicate with you respecting the child? Suppose he + is sick?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Then write to A. M., care of Giles Warner, No. —— Nassau + Street. By the way, it will be necessary for you to send him your + postoffice address after your removal in order that he may send you your + quarterly dues.’ + </p> + <p> + “With this he left us, entered the hack, and drove off. I have never seen + him since.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <h3> + LEFT ALONE + </h3> + <p> + Frank listened to this revelation with wonder. For the first time in his + life he asked himself, “Who am I?” + </p> + <p> + “How came I by my name, mother?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I must tell you. After the sudden departure of the gentleman who brought + you, we happened to think that we had not asked your name. We accordingly + wrote to the address which had been given us, making the inquiry. In + return we received a slip of paper containing these words: ‘The name is + immaterial; give him any name you please. A. M.’” + </p> + <p> + “You gave me the name of Frank.” + </p> + <p> + “It was Mr. Fowler’s name. We should have given it to you had you been our + own boy; as the choice was left to us, we selected that.” + </p> + <p> + “It suits me as well as any other. How soon did you leave Brooklyn, + mother?” + </p> + <p> + “In a week we had made all arrangements, and removed to this place. It is + a small place, but it furnished as much work as my husband felt able to + do. With the help of the allowance for your support, we not only got on + comfortably, but saved up a hundred and fifty dollars annually, which we + deposited in a savings bank. But after five years the money stopped + coming. It was the year 1857, the year of the great panic, and among + others who failed was Giles Warner’s agent, from whom we received our + payments. Mr. Fowler went to New York to inquire about it, but only + learned that Mr. Warner, weighed down by his troubles, had committed + suicide, leaving no clew to the name of the man who left you with us.” + </p> + <p> + “How long ago was that, mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Seven years ago nearly eight.” + </p> + <p> + “And you continued to keep me, though the payments stopped.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; you were as dear to us as our own child—for we now had a + child of our own—Grace. We should as soon have thought of casting + off her as you.” + </p> + <p> + “But you must have been poor, mother.” + </p> + <p> + “We were economical, and we got along till your father died three years + ago. Since then it has been hard work.” + </p> + <p> + “You have had a hard time, mother.” + </p> + <p> + “No harder on your account. You have been a great comfort to me, Frank. I + am only anxious for the future. I fear you and Grace will suffer after I + am gone.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t fear, mother, I am young and strong; I am not afraid to face the + world with God’s help.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you thinking of, Frank?” asked Mrs. Fowler, noticing the boy’s + fixed look. + </p> + <p> + “Mother,” he said, earnestly, “I mean to seek for that man you have told + me of. I want to find out who I am. Do you think he was my father?” + </p> + <p> + “He said he was, but I do not believe it. He spoke with hesitation, and + said this to deceive us, probably.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad you think so, I would not like to think him my father. From + what you have told me of him I am sure I would not like him.” + </p> + <p> + “He must be nearly fifty now—dark complexion, with dark hair and + whiskers. I am afraid that description will not help you any. There are + many men who look like that. I should know him by his expression, but I + cannot describe that to you.” + </p> + <p> + Here Mrs. Fowler was seized with a very severe fit of coughing, and Frank + begged her to say no more. + </p> + <p> + Two days later, and Mrs. Fowler was no better. She was rapidly failing, + and no hope was entertained that she would rally. She herself felt that + death was near at hand and told Frank so, but he found it hard to believe. + </p> + <p> + On the second of the two days, as he was returning from the village store + with an orange for his mother, he was overtaken by Sam Pomeroy. + </p> + <p> + “Is your mother very sick, Frank?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Sam, I’m afraid she won’t live.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it so bad as that? I do believe,” he added, with a sudden change of + tone, “Tom Pinkerton is the meanest boy I ever knew. He is trying to get + your place as captain of the baseball club. He says that if your mother + doesn’t live, you will have to go to the poorhouse, for you won’t have any + money, and that it will be a disgrace for the club to have a captain from + the poorhouse.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he say that?” asked Frank, indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “When he tells you that, you may say that I shall never go to the + poorhouse.” + </p> + <p> + “He says his father is going to put you and your sister there.” + </p> + <p> + “All the Deacon Pinkertons in the world can never make me go to the + poorhouse!” said Frank, resolutely. + </p> + <p> + “Bully for you, Frank! I knew you had spunk.” + </p> + <p> + Frank hurried home. As he entered the little house a neighbor’s wife, who + had been watching with his mother, came to meet him. + </p> + <p> + “Frank,” she said, gravely, “you must prepare yourself for sad news. While + you were out your mother had another hemorrhage, and—and—” + </p> + <p> + “Is she dead?” asked the boy, his face very pale. + </p> + <p> + “She is dead!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <h3> + THE TOWN AUTOCRAT + </h3> + <p> + “The Widder Fowler is dead,” remarked Deacon Pinkerton, at the supper + table. “She died this afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose she won’t leave anything,” said Mrs. Pinkerton. + </p> + <p> + “No. I hold a mortgage on her furniture, and that is all she has.” + </p> + <p> + “What will become of the children?” + </p> + <p> + “As I observed, day before yesterday, they will be constrained to find a + refuge in the poorhouse.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you think Sam Pomeroy told me, father?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not able to conjecture what Samuel would be likely to observe, my + son.” + </p> + <p> + “He observed that Frank Fowler said he wouldn’t go to the poorhouse.” + </p> + <p> + “Ahem!” coughed the deacon. “The boy will not be consulted.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s what I say, father,” said Tom, who desired to obtain his father’s + co-operation. “You’ll make him go to the poorhouse, won’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall undoubtedly exercise my authority, if it should be necessary, my + son.” + </p> + <p> + “He told Sam Pomeroy that all the Deacon Pinkertons in the world couldn’t + make him go to the poorhouse.” + </p> + <p> + “I will constrain him,” said the deacon. + </p> + <p> + “I would if I were you, father,” said Tom, elated at the effect of his + words. “Just teach him a lesson.” + </p> + <p> + “Really, deacon, you mustn’t be too hard upon the poor boy,” said his + better-hearted wife. “He’s got trouble enough on him.” + </p> + <p> + “I will only constrain him for his good, Jane. In the poorhouse he will be + well provided for.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile another conversation respecting our hero and his fortunes was + held at Sam Pomeroy’s home. It was not as handsome as the deacon’s, for + Mr. Pomeroy was a poor man, but it was a happy one, nevertheless, and Mr. + Pomeroy, limited as were his means, was far more liberal than the deacon. + </p> + <p> + “I pity Frank Fowler,” said Sam, who was warm-hearted and sympathetic, and + a strong friend of Frank. “I don’t know what he will do.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose his mother left nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “I understood,” said Mr. Pomeroy, “that Deacon Pinkerton holds a mortgage + on her furniture.” + </p> + <p> + “The deacon wants to send Frank and his sister to the poorhouse.” + </p> + <p> + “That would be a pity.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think so; but Frank positively says he won’t go.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid there isn’t anything else for him. To be sure, he may get a + chance to work in a shop or on a farm, but Grace can’t support herself.” + </p> + <p> + “Father, I want to ask you a favor.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Sam?” + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you invite Frank and his sister to come and stay here a week?” + </p> + <p> + “Just as your mother says.” + </p> + <p> + “I say yes. The poor children will be quite welcome. If we were rich + enough they might stay with us all the time.” + </p> + <p> + “When Frank comes here I will talk over his affairs with him,” said Mr. + Pomeroy. “Perhaps we can think of some plan for him.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you could, father.” + </p> + <p> + “In the meantime, you can invite him and Grace to come and stay with us a + week, or a fortnight. Shall we say a fortnight, wife?” + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, father. Thank you.” + </p> + <p> + Sam delivered the invitation in a way that showed how strongly his own + feelings were enlisted in favor of its acceptance. Frank grasped his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Sam, you are a true friend,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I hadn’t begun to think of what we were to do, Grace and I.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll come, won’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “You are sure that it won’t trouble your mother, Sam?” + </p> + <p> + “She is anxious to have you come.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I’ll come. I haven’t formed any plans yet, but I must as soon—as + soon as mother is buried. I think I can earn my living somehow. One thing + I am determined about—I won’t go to the poorhouse.” + </p> + <p> + The funeral was over. Frank and Grace walked back to the little house, now + their home no longer. They were to pack up a little bundle of clothes and + go over to Mr. Pomeroy’s in time for supper. + </p> + <p> + When Frank had made up his bundle, urged by some impulse, he opened a + drawer in his mother’s bureau. His mind was full of the story she had told + him, and he thought it just possible that he might find something to throw + additional light upon his past history. While exploring the contents of + the drawer he came to a letter directed to him in his mother’s well-known + handwriting. He opened it hastily, and with a feeling of solemnity, read + as follows: + </p> + <p> + “My Dear Frank: In the lower drawer, wrapped in a piece of brown paper, + you will find two gold eagles, worth twenty dollars. You will need them + when I am gone. Use them for Grace and yourself. I saved these for my + children. Take them, Frank, for I have nothing else to give you. The + furniture will pay the debt I owe Deacon Pinkerton. There ought to be + something over, but I think he will take all. I wish I had more to leave + you, dear Frank, but the God of the Fatherless will watch over you—to + Him I commit you and Grace. + </p> + <p> + “Your affectionate mother, + </p> + <p> + “RUTH FOWLER.” + </p> + <p> + Frank, following the instructions of the letter, found the gold pieces and + put them carefully into his pocketbook. He did not mention the letter to + Grace at present, for he knew not but Deacon Pinkerton might lay claim to + the money to satisfy his debt if he knew it. + </p> + <p> + “I am ready, Frank,” said Grace, entering the room. “Shall we go?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Grace. There is no use in stopping here any longer.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke he heard the outer door open, and a minute later Deacon + Pinkerton entered the room. + </p> + <p> + None of the deacon’s pompousness was abated as he entered the house and + the room. + </p> + <p> + “Will you take a seat?” said our hero, with the air of master of the + house. + </p> + <p> + “I intended to,” said the deacon, not acknowledging his claim. “So your + poor mother is gone?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said Frank, briefly. + </p> + <p> + “We must all die,” said the deacon, feeling that it was incumbent on him + to say something religious. “Ahem! your mother died poor? She left no + property?” + </p> + <p> + “It was not her fault.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not. Did she mention that I had advanced her money on the + furniture?” + </p> + <p> + “My mother told me all about it, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Ahem! You are in a sad condition. But you will be taken care of. You + ought to be thankful that there is a home provided for those who have no + means.” + </p> + <p> + “What home do you refer to, Deacon Pinkerton?” asked Frank, looking + steadily in the face of his visitor. + </p> + <p> + “I mean the poorhouse, which the town generously provides for those who + cannot support themselves.” + </p> + <p> + This was the first intimation Grace had received of the possibility that + they would be sent to such a home, and it frightened her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Frank!” she exclaimed, “must we go to the poorhouse?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Grace; don’t be frightened,” said Frank, soothingly. “We will not + go.” + </p> + <p> + “Frank Fowler,” said the deacon, sternly, “cease to mislead your sister.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not misleading her, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you not tell her that she would not be obliged to go to the + poorhouse?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what do you mean by resisting my authority?” + </p> + <p> + “You have no authority over us. We are not paupers,” and Frank lifted his + head proudly, and looked steadily in the face of the deacon. + </p> + <p> + “You are paupers, whether you admit it or not.” + </p> + <p> + “We are not,” said the boy, indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “Where is your money? Where is your property?” + </p> + <p> + “Here, sir,” said our hero, holding out his hands. + </p> + <p> + “I have two strong hands, and they will help me make a living for my + sister and myself.” + </p> + <p> + “May I ask whether you expect to live here and use my furniture?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not intend to, sir. I shall ask no favors of you, neither for Grace + nor myself. I am going to leave the house. I only came back to get a few + clothes. Mr. Pomeroy has invited Grace and me to stay at his house for a + few days. I haven’t decided what I shall do afterward.” + </p> + <p> + “You will have to go to the poorhouse, then. I have no objection to your + making this visit first. It will be a saving to the town.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, sir, we will bid you good-day. Grace, let us go.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <h3> + A LITTLE MISUNDERSTANDING + </h3> + <p> + “Have you carried Frank Fowler to the poorhouse?” asked Tom Pinkerton, + eagerly, on his father’s return. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the deacon, “he is going to make a visit at Mr. Pomeroy’s + first.” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn’t think you would have let him make a visit,” said Tom, + discontentedly. “I should think you would have taken him to the poorhouse + right off.” + </p> + <p> + “I feel it my duty to save the town unnecessary expense,” said Deacon + Pinkerton. + </p> + <p> + So Tom was compelled to rest satisfied with his father’s assurance that + the removal was only deferred. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Frank and Grace received a cordial welcome at the house of Mr. + Pomeroy. Sam and Frank were intimate friends, and our hero had been in the + habit of calling frequently, and it seemed homelike. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you could stay with us all the time, Frank—you and Grace,” + said Sam one evening. + </p> + <p> + “We should all like it,” said Mr. Pomeroy, “but we cannot always have what + we want. If I had it in my power to offer Frank any employment which it + would be worth his while to follow, it might do. But he has got his way to + make in the world. Have you formed any plans yet, Frank?” + </p> + <p> + “That is what I want to consult you about, Mr. Pomeroy.” + </p> + <p> + “I will give you the best advice I can, Frank. I suppose you do not mean + to stay in the village.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. There is nothing for me to do here. I must go somewhere where I + can make a living for Grace and myself.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ve got a hard row to hoe, Frank,” said Mr. Pomeroy, thoughtfully. + “Have you decided where to go?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. I shall go to New York.” + </p> + <p> + “What! To the city?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. I’ll get something to do, no matter what it is.” + </p> + <p> + “But how are you going to live in the meantime?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve got a little money.” + </p> + <p> + “That won’t last long.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it, but I shall soon get work, if it is only to black boots in the + streets.” + </p> + <p> + “With that spirit, Frank, you will stand a fair chance to succeed. What do + you mean to do with Grace?” + </p> + <p> + “I will take her with me.” + </p> + <p> + “I can think of a better plan. Leave her here till you have found + something to do. Then send for her.” + </p> + <p> + “But if I leave her here Deacon Pinkerton will want to put her in the + poorhouse. I can’t bear to have Grace go there.” + </p> + <p> + “She need not. She can stay here with me for three months.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you let me pay her board?” + </p> + <p> + “I can afford to give her board for three months.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very kind, Mr. Pomeroy, but it wouldn’t be right for me to accept + your kindness. It is my duty to take care of Grace.” + </p> + <p> + “I honor your independence, Frank. It shall be as you say. When you are + able—mind, not till then—you may pay me at the rate of two + dollars a week for Grace’s board.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said Frank, “if you are willing to board Grace for a while, I + think I had better go to the city at once.” + </p> + <p> + “I will look over your clothes to-morrow, Frank,” said Mrs. Pomeroy, “and + see if they need mending.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I will start Thursday morning—the day after.” + </p> + <p> + About four o’clock the next afternoon he was walking up the main street, + when just in front of Deacon Pinkerton’s house he saw Tom leaning against + a tree. + </p> + <p> + “How are you Tom?” he said, and was about to pass on. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going?” Tom asked abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “To Mr. Pomeroy’s.” + </p> + <p> + “How soon are you going to the poorhouse to live?” + </p> + <p> + “Who told you I was going?” + </p> + <p> + “My father.” + </p> + <p> + “Then your father’s mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + “Ain’t you a pauper?” said Tom, insolently. “You haven’t got any money.” + </p> + <p> + “I have got hands to earn money, and I am going to try.” + </p> + <p> + “Anyway, I advise you to resign as captain of the baseball club.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because if you don’t you’ll be kicked out. Do you think the fellows will + be willing to have a pauper for their captain?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s the second time you have called me a pauper. Don’t call me so + again.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a pauper and you know it.” + </p> + <p> + Frank was not a quarrelsome boy, but this repeated insult was too much for + him. He seized Tom by the collar, and tripping him up left him on the + ground howling with rage. As valor was not his strong point, he resolved + to be revenged upon Frank vicariously. He was unable to report the case to + his father till the next morning, as the deacon did not return from a + neighboring village, whither he had gone on business, till late, but the + result of his communication was a call at Mr. Pomeroy’s from the deacon at + nine o’clock the next morning. Had he found Frank, it was his intention, + at Tom’s request, to take him at once to the poorhouse. But he was too + late. Our hero was already on his way to New York. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <h3> + FRANK GETS A PLACE + </h3> + <p> + “So this is New York,” said Frank to himself, as he emerged from the + railway station and looked about him with interest and curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Black yer boots? Shine?” asked a bootblack, seeing our hero standing + still. + </p> + <p> + Frank looked at his shoes. They were dirty, without doubt, but he would + not have felt disposed to be so extravagant, considering his limited + resources, had he not felt it necessary to obtain some information about + the city. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, “you may black them.” + </p> + <p> + The boy was on his knees instantly and at work. + </p> + <p> + “How much do you make in a day?” asked Frank. + </p> + <p> + “When it’s a good day I make a dollar.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s pretty good,” said Frank. + </p> + <p> + “Can you show me the way to Broadway?” + </p> + <p> + “Go straight ahead.” + </p> + <p> + Our hero paid for his shine and started in the direction indicated. + </p> + <p> + Frank’s plans, so far as he had any, were to get into a store. He knew + that Broadway was the principal business street in the city, and this was + about all he did know about it. + </p> + <p> + He reached the great thoroughfare in a few minutes, and was fortunate + enough to find on the window of the corner store the sign: + </p> + <p> + “A Boy Wanted.” + </p> + <p> + He entered at once, and going up to the counter, addressed a young man, + who was putting up goods. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want a boy?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe the boss wants one; I don’t. Go out to that desk.” + </p> + <p> + Frank found the desk, and propounded the same question to a + sandy-whiskered man, who looked up from his writing. + </p> + <p> + “You’re prompt,” he said. “That notice was only put out two minutes ago.” + </p> + <p> + “I only saw it one minute ago.” + </p> + <p> + “So you want the place, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “I should like it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know your way about the city?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, but I could soon find out.” + </p> + <p> + “That won’t do. I shall have plenty of applications from boys who live in + the city and are familiar with the streets.” + </p> + <p> + Frank left the store rather discomfited. + </p> + <p> + He soon came to another store where there was a similar notice of “A Boy + Wanted.” It was a dry goods store. + </p> + <p> + “Do you live with your parents?” was asked. + </p> + <p> + “My parents are dead,” said Frank, sadly. + </p> + <p> + “Very sorry, but we can’t take you.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “In case you took anything we should make your parents responsible.” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn’t take anything,” said Frank, indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “You might; I can’t take you.” + </p> + <p> + Our hero left this store a little disheartened by his second rebuff. + </p> + <p> + He made several more fruitless applications, but did not lose courage + wholly. He was gaining an appetite, however. It is not surprising + therefore, that his attention was drawn to the bills of a restaurant on + the opposite side of the street. He crossed over, and standing outside, + began to examine them to see what was the scale of prices. While in this + position he was suddenly aroused by a slap on the back. + </p> + <p> + Turning he met the gaze of a young man of about thirty, who was smiling + quite cordially. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Frank, my boy, how are you?” he said, offering his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Pretty well, thank you,” said our hero bewildered, for he had no + recollection of the man who had called him by name. + </p> + <p> + The other smiled a little more broadly, and thought: + </p> + <p> + “It was a lucky guess; his name is Frank.” + </p> + <p> + “I am delighted to hear it,” he continued. “When did you reach the city?” + </p> + <p> + “This morning,” said the unsuspecting Frank. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it’s queer I happened to meet you so soon, isn’t it? Going to stay + long?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall, if I can get a place.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I can help you.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I ought to remember you,” ventured our hero, “but I can’t think + of your name.” + </p> + <p> + “Jasper Wheelock. You don’t mean to say you don’t remember me? Perhaps it + isn’t strange, as we only met once or twice in your country home. But that + doesn’t matter. I’m just as ready to help you. By the way, have you + dined?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “No more have I. Come in and dine with me.” + </p> + <p> + “What’ll you take?” asked Jasper Wheelock, passing the bill of fare to + Frank. + </p> + <p> + “I think I should like to have some roast beef,” said Frank. + </p> + <p> + “That will suit me. Here, waiter, two plates of roast beef, and two cups + of coffee.” + </p> + <p> + “How are they all at home?” asked Jasper. + </p> + <p> + “My mother has just died.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t say so,” said Jasper, sympathetically. + </p> + <p> + “My sister is well.” + </p> + <p> + “I forgot your sister’s name.” + </p> + <p> + “Grace.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course—Grace. I find it hard to remember names. The fact is, I + have been trying to recall your last name, but it’s gone from me.” + </p> + <p> + “Fowler.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure Frank Fowler. How could I be so forgetful.” + </p> + <p> + The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the coffee and roast + beet, which both he and his new friend attacked with vigor. + </p> + <p> + “What kind of pudding will you have?” asked the stranger. + </p> + <p> + “Apple dumpling,” said Frank. + </p> + <p> + “That suits me. Apple dumpling for two.” + </p> + <p> + In due time the apple dumpling was disposed of, and two checks were + brought, amounting to seventy cents. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll pay for both,” said Jasper. “No thanks. We are old acquaintances, + you know.” + </p> + <p> + He put his hand into his pocket, and quickly withdrew it with an + exclamation of surprise: + </p> + <p> + “Well, if that isn’t a good joke,” he said. “I’ve left my money at home. I + remember now, I left it in the pocket of my other coat. I shall have to + borrow the money of you. You may as well hand me a dollar!” + </p> + <p> + Frank was not disposed to be suspicious, but the request for money made + him uneasy. Still there seemed no way of refusing, and he reluctantly drew + out the money. + </p> + <p> + His companion settled the bill and then led the way into the street. + </p> + <p> + Jasper Wheelock was not very scrupulous; he was quite capable of borrowing + money, without intending to return it; but he had his good side. + </p> + <p> + “Frank,” said he, as they found themselves in the street, “you have done + me a favor, and I am going to help you in return. Have you got very much + money?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I had twenty dollars when I left home, but I had to pay my fare in + the cars and the dinner, I have seventeen dollars and a half left.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it is necessary for you to get a place as soon as possible.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I have a sister to support; Grace, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don’t know. The fact is, Frank, I have been imposing upon you. I + never saw you before in the whole course of my life.” + </p> + <p> + “What made you say you knew me?” + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to get a dinner out of you. Don’t be troubled, though; I’ll pay + back the money. I’ve been out of a place for three or four weeks, but I + enter upon one the first of next week. For the rest of the week I’ve got + nothing to do, and I will try to get you a place. + </p> + <p> + “The first thing is to get a room somewhere. I’ll tell you what, you may + have part of my room.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it expensive?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I pay a dollar and a half a week. I think the old lady won’t charge + more than fifty cents extra for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Then my share would be a dollar.” + </p> + <p> + “You may pay only fifty cents. I’ll keep on paying what I do now. My room + is on Sixth Avenue.” They had some distance to walk. Finally Jasper halted + before a baker’s shop. + </p> + <p> + “It’s over this,” he said. + </p> + <p> + He drew out a latch-key and entered. + </p> + <p> + “This is my den,” he said. “It isn’t large you can’t get any better for + the money.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall have to be satisfied,” said Frank. “I want to get along as cheap + as I can.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve got to economize myself for a short time. After this week I shall + earn fifteen dollars a week.” + </p> + <p> + “What business are you in, Mr. Wheelock?” + </p> + <p> + “I am a journeyman printer. It is a very good business, and I generally + have steady work. I expect to have after I get started again. Now, shall I + give you some advice?” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you would.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t know your way around New York. I believe I have a map + somewhere. I’ll just show you on it the position of the principal streets, + and that will give you a clearer idea of where we go.” + </p> + <p> + The map was found and Jasper explained to Frank the leading topographical + features of the Island City. + </p> + <p> + One thing only was wanting now to make him contented, and this was + employment. But it was too late to make any further inquiries. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve been thinking, Frank,” said Jasper, the next morning, “that you + might get the position as a cash-boy.” + </p> + <p> + “What does a cash-boy do?” + </p> + <p> + “In large retail establishments every salesman keeps a book in which his + sales are entered. He does not himself make change, for it would not do to + have so many having access to the money-drawer. The money is carried to + the cashier’s desk by boys employed for the purpose, who return with the + change.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I can get a situation as cash-boy?” + </p> + <p> + “I will try at Gilbert & Mack’s. I know one of the principal salesmen. + If there is a vacancy he will get it for you to oblige me.” + </p> + <p> + They entered a large retail store on Broadway. It was broad and spacious. + Twenty salesmen stood behind the counter, and boys were running this way + and that with small books in their hands. + </p> + <p> + “How are you, Duncan?” said Jasper. + </p> + <p> + The person addressed was about Jasper Wheelock’s age. He had a keen, + energetic look and manner, and would be readily singled out as one of the + leading clerks. + </p> + <p> + “All right, Wheelock. How are you?” he responded. “Do you want anything in + our line?” + </p> + <p> + “No goods; I want a place for this youngster. He’s a friend of mine. I’ll + answer for his good character.” + </p> + <p> + “That will be satisfactory. But what sort of a place does he want?” + </p> + <p> + “He is ready to begin as cash-boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we can oblige you, as one of our boys has fallen sick, and we have + not supplied his place. I’ll speak to Mr. Gilbert.” + </p> + <p> + He went up to Mr. Gilbert, a portly man in the back part of the store. Mr. + Gilbert seemed to be asking two or three questions. Frank waited the + result in suspense, dreading another disappointment, but this time he was + fortunate. + </p> + <p> + “The boy can stay,” reported Duncan. “His wages are three dollars a week.” + </p> + <p> + It was not much, but Frank was well pleased to feel that at last he had a + place in the city. + </p> + <p> + He wrote a letter to Grace in the evening, announcing his success, and + expressing the hope that he would soon be able to send for her. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <h3> + THE CASH BOY HAS AN ADVENTURE + </h3> + <p> + Four weeks passed. The duties of a cash-boy are simple enough, and Frank + had no difficulty in discharging them satisfactorily. At first he found it + tiresome, being on his feet all day, for the cash-boys were not allowed to + sit down, but he got used to this, being young and strong. + </p> + <p> + All this was very satisfactory, but one thing gave Frank uneasiness. His + income was very inadequate to his wants. + </p> + <p> + “What makes you so glum, Frank?” asked Jasper Wheelock one evening. + </p> + <p> + “Do I look glum?” said Frank. “I was only thinking how I could earn more + money. You know how little I get. I can hardly take care of myself, much + less take care of Grace.” + </p> + <p> + “I can lend you some money, Frank. Thanks to your good advice, I have got + some laid up.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Jasper, but that wouldn’t help matters. I should owe you the + money, and I don’t know how I could pay you.” + </p> + <p> + “About increasing your income, I really don’t know,” said Jasper. “I am + afraid Gilbert & Mack wouldn’t raise your wages.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t expect it. All the rest of the cash-boys would ask the same + thing.” + </p> + <p> + “True; still I know they are very well pleased with you. Duncan told me + you did more work than any of the rest of the boys.” + </p> + <p> + “I try to do all I can.” + </p> + <p> + “He said you would make a good salesman, he thought. Of course you are too + young for that yet.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Frank, I am earning fifteen dollars a week, you know, and I can get along + on ten, but of the five I save let me give you two. I shall never feel it, + and by and by when you are promoted it won’t be necessary.” + </p> + <p> + “Jasper, you are a true friend,” said Frank, warmly; “but it wouldn’t be + right for me to accept your kind offer, though I shan’t forget it. You + have been a good friend to me.” + </p> + <p> + “And you to me, Frank. I’ll look out for you. Perhaps I may hear of + something for you.” + </p> + <p> + Small as Frank’s income was, he had managed to live within it. It will be + remembered that he had paid but fifty cents a week for a room. By great + economy he had made his meals cost but two dollars a week, so that out of + his three dollars he saved fifty cents. But this saving would not be + sufficient to pay for his clothes. However, he had had no occasion to buy + any as yet, and his little fund altogether amounted to twenty dollars. Of + this sum he inclosed {sic} eight dollars to Mr. Pomeroy to pay for four + weeks’ board for Grace. + </p> + <p> + “I hope I shall be able to keep it up,” he said to himself, thoughtfully. + “At any rate, I’ve got enough to pay for six weeks more. Before that time + something may turn up.” + </p> + <p> + Several days passed without showing Frank any way by which he could + increase his income. Jasper again offered to give him two dollars a week + out of his own wages, but this our hero steadily refused. + </p> + <p> + One Friday evening, just as the store was about to close, the head + salesman called Frank to him. + </p> + <p> + “Where do you live?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “In Sixth avenue, near Twenty-fifth street.” + </p> + <p> + “There’s a bundle to go to Forty-sixth street. I’ll pay your fare upon the + stage if you’ll carry it. I promised to send it to-night, and I don’t like + to disappoint the lady.” + </p> + <p> + “I can carry it just as well as not.” + </p> + <p> + Frank took the bundle, and got on board a passing omnibus. There was just + one seat vacant beside an old gentleman of seventy, who appeared to be + quite feeble. + </p> + <p> + At Forty-fifth street he pulled the strap and prepared to descend, leaning + heavily on his cane as he did so. By some mischance the horses started a + little too soon and the old man, losing his footing, fell in the street. + Frank observed the accident and sprang out instantly to his help. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you are not much hurt, sir?” he said, hastily. + </p> + <p> + “I have hurt my knee,” said the old gentleman. + </p> + <p> + “Let me assist you, sir,” said Frank, helping him up. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, my boy. I live at number forty-five, close by. If you will + lead me to the door and into the house I shall be much indebted to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, sir. It is no trouble to me.” + </p> + <p> + With slow step, supported by our hero, the old gentleman walked to his own + door. + </p> + <p> + It was opened by a maid servant, who looked with some surprise at Frank. + </p> + <p> + “I fell, Mary,” explained her master, “and this young gentleman has kindly + helped me home.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you hurt yourself much, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Not seriously.” + </p> + <p> + “Can I do anything more for you, sir?” asked Frank. + </p> + <p> + “Come in a moment.” + </p> + <p> + Our hero followed his new acquaintance into a handsomely furnished parlor. + </p> + <p> + “Now, my young friend tell me if you have been taken out of your way by + your attention to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, sir; I intended to get out at the next street.” + </p> + <p> + “My dinner is just ready. Won’t you stop and dine with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” he said, hesitatingly, “but I promised to carry this + bundle. I believe it is wanted at once.” + </p> + <p> + “So you shall. You say the house is in the next street. You can go and + return in five minutes. You have done me a service, and I may have it in + my power to do something for you in return.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” thought Frank, “he can help me to some employment for my + evenings.” Then, aloud: + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir; I will come.” + </p> + <p> + Five minutes later Frank was ushered into a handsome dining-room. The + dinner was already on the table, but chairs were only set for three. The + one at the head of the table was of course occupied by the old gentleman, + the one opposite by Mrs. Bradley, his housekeeper, and one at the side was + placed for Frank. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Bradley,” said the old gentleman, “this is a young gentleman who was + kind enough to help me home after the accident of which I just spoke to + you. I would mention his name, but I must leave that to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Frank Fowler, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “And my name is Wharton. Now that we are all introduced, we can talk more + freely.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you have some soup, Mr. Fowler?” asked the housekeeper. + </p> + <p> + She was a tall thin woman, with a reserved manner that was somewhat + repellant. She had only nodded slightly at the introduction, fixing her + eyes coldly and searchingly on the face of our hero. It was evident that + whatever impression the service rendered might have made upon the mind of + Mr. Wharton, it was not calculated to warm the housekeeper to cordiality. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” he answered, but he could not help feeling at the same time + that Mrs. Bradley was not a very agreeable woman. + </p> + <p> + “You ought to have a good appetite,” said Mr. Wharton. “You have to work + hard during the day. Our young friend is a cash-boy at Gilbert & + Mack’s, Mrs. Bradley. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, indeed!” said Mrs. Bradley, arching her brows as much as to say: “You + have invited strange company to dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “Do your parents live in the city, Frank—I believe your name is + Frank?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; they are dead. My mother died only a few weeks since.” + </p> + <p> + “And have you no brothers and sisters?” + </p> + <p> + “I have one sister—Grace.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose she is in the city here with you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. I left her in the country. I am here alone.” + </p> + <p> + “I will ask you more about yourself after dinner. If you have no + engagement, I should like to have you stay with me a part of the evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Frank accepted the invitation, though he knew Jasper would wonder what had + become of him. He saw that the old gentleman was kindly disposed toward + him, and in his present circumstances he needed such a friend. + </p> + <p> + But in proportion as Mr. Wharton became more cordial, Mrs. Bradley became + more frosty, until at last the old gentleman noticed her manner. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you feel well this evening, Mrs Bradley?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I have a little headache,” said the housekeeper, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “You had better do something for it.” + </p> + <p> + “It will pass away of itself, sir.” + </p> + <p> + They arose from the dinner table, and Mr. Wharton, followed by Frank, + ascended the staircase to the front room on the second floor, which was + handsomely fitted up as a library. + </p> + <p> + “What makes him take such notice of a mere cash-boy?” said Mrs. Bradley to + herself. “That boy reminds me of somebody. Who is it?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <h3> + AN UNEXPECTED ENGAGEMENT + </h3> + <p> + “Take a seat, Frank,” said Mr. Wharton, pointing to a luxurious armchair + on one side of the cheerful grate fire; “I will take the other, and you + shall tell me all about yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” said our hero. + </p> + <p> + His confidence was won by Mr. Wharton’s kind tone, and he briefly + recounted his story. + </p> + <p> + At the conclusion, Mr. Wharton said: + </p> + <p> + “How old are you, Frank?” + </p> + <p> + “Fourteen, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a brave boy, and a good boy, and you deserve success.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “But I am bound to say that you have a hard task before you.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not let your sister go to the poorhouse for a few years, till you are + older, and better able to provide for her?” + </p> + <p> + “I should be ashamed to do it, sir,” he said. “I promised my mother to + take care of Grace, and I will.” + </p> + <p> + “How much do you earn as a cash-boy?” + </p> + <p> + “Three dollars a week.” + </p> + <p> + “Only three dollars a week! Why, that won’t pay your own expenses!” said + the old gentleman in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, it does. I pay fifty cents a week for my room, and my meals + don’t cost me much.” + </p> + <p> + “But you will want clothes.” + </p> + <p> + “I have enough for the present, and I am laying up fifty cents a week to + buy more when I need them.” + </p> + <p> + “You can’t buy many for twenty-six dollars a year. But that doesn’t allow + anything for your sister’s expenses.” + </p> + <p> + “That is what puzzles me, sir,” said Frank, fixing a troubled glance upon + the fire. “I shall have to work in the evenings for Grace.” + </p> + <p> + “What can you do?” + </p> + <p> + “I could copy, but I suppose there isn’t much chance of getting copying to + do.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you have a good handwriting?” + </p> + <p> + “Pretty fair, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me see a specimen. There are pen and ink on the table, and here is a + sheet of paper.” + </p> + <p> + Frank seated himself at the table, and wrote his name on the paper. + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” said his host, approvingly. “Your hand is good enough for a + copyist, but you are correct in supposing that work of that kind is hard + to get. Are you a good reader?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean in reading aloud, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I will try, if you wish.” + </p> + <p> + “Take a book from the table—any book—and let me hear you + read.” + </p> + <p> + Frank opened the first book that came to hand—one of Irving’s and + read in a clear, unembarrassed voice about half a page. + </p> + <p> + “Very good indeed!” said Mr. Wharton. “You have been well taught. Where + did you attend school?” + </p> + <p> + “Only in the town school, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “You have, at any rate, made good use of your advantages.” + </p> + <p> + “But will it do me any good, sir?” asked Frank. + </p> + <p> + “People are not paid for reading, are they?” + </p> + <p> + “Not in general, but we will suppose the case of a person whose eyes are + weak, and likely to be badly affected by evening use. Then suppose such a + person could secure the services of a good, clear, distinct reader, don’t + you think he would be willing to pay something?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so. Do you know of any such person?” asked Frank. + </p> + <p> + “I am describing myself, Frank. A year since I strained my eyes very + severely, and have never dared to use them much since by gaslight. Mrs. + Bradley, my housekeeper, has read to me some, but she has other duties, + and I don’t think she enjoys it very much. Now, why shouldn’t I get you to + read to me in the evening when you are not otherwise employed?” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you would, Mr. Wharton,” said Frank, eagerly. “I would do my + best.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no doubt of that, but there is another question—perhaps you + might ask a higher salary than I could afford to pay.” + </p> + <p> + “Would a dollar a week be too much?” asked Frank. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think I could complain of that,” said Mr. Wharton, gravely. “Very + well, I will engage you as my reader.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “But about the pay; I have made up my mind to pay you five dollars a + week.” + </p> + <p> + “Five dollars a week!” Frank repeated. “It is much more than my services + will be worth sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me judge of that, Frank.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know how to thank you, sir,” said Frank, gratefully. “I never + expected to be so rich. I shall have no trouble in paying for Grace’s + board and clothes now. When do you want me to begin reading to you?” + </p> + <p> + “You may as well begin to-night—that is, unless you have some other + engagement.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, sir, I have nothing else to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Take the Evening Post, then, and read me the leading editorial. + Afterward, I will tell you what to read.” + </p> + <p> + Frank had been reading about half an hour, when a knock was heard at the + door. + </p> + <p> + “Come in,” said Mr. Wharton. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bradley entered, with a soft, quiet step. + </p> + <p> + “I thought, sir,” she began, “you might like me to read to you, as usual.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mrs. Bradley, but I am going to relieve you of that portion of + your labors. My young friend here is to come every evening and read to + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” ejaculated the housekeeper in a tone of chilly displeasure, and + a sharp glance at Frank, which indicated no great amount of cordiality. + “Then, as I am intruding, I will take my leave.” + </p> + <p> + There was something in her tone that made Frank feel uncomfortable. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <h3> + THE HOUSEKEEPER’S NEPHEW + </h3> + <p> + “By no means,” said Mr. Wharton, as the housekeeper was about to withdraw; + “don’t imagine you are intruding. Come in and sit down.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” said Mrs. Bradley, in a measured tone. “You are very + considerate, I am sure, but if you’ll excuse me, I won’t come in this + evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Bradley has been with me a good many years,” explained Mr. Wharton, + “and I dare say she feels a little disturbed at seeing another occupy her + place, even in a duty like this.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid she will be offended with me, sir,” said Frank. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no; I will explain matters to her. Go on with your reading, Frank.” + </p> + <p> + At half-past nine, Mr. Wharton took out his watch. + </p> + <p> + “It is getting late,” he said. “I have no doubt you are tired and need + rest.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not tired, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe in going to bed early. I shall seldom keep you later than this. + Do you think you can find your way out?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. When shall I come to-morrow evening?” + </p> + <p> + “A little before eight.” + </p> + <p> + “I will be punctual.” + </p> + <p> + Jasper was waiting for him, not wholly without anxiety, for it was very + unusual for Frank to be late. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Frank!” he exclaimed; “this is a pretty time for you to come home. + I began to think you had got into trouble. I was just going around to the + nearest station house in search of you.” + </p> + <p> + “I was in quite a different place, Jasper.” + </p> + <p> + Frank told his story, including an account of his engagement. + </p> + <p> + “So it seems I am to lose your company in the evening. I am sorry for + that, but I am glad you are so lucky.” + </p> + <p> + “It was better than I expected,” said Frank, with satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “What sort of a man is this Mr. Wharton?” said Jasper. + </p> + <p> + “He is very kind and generous. I am lucky to have so good a friend. + There’s only one thing that is likely to be disagreeable.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s that?” + </p> + <p> + “The housekeeper—her name is Mrs. Bradley—for some reason or + other she doesn’t want me there.” + </p> + <p> + “What makes you think so?” + </p> + <p> + “Her manner, and the way she speaks. She came in to read to Mr. Wharton + last evening, and didn’t seem to like it because I had been taken in her + place.” + </p> + <p> + “She is evidently jealous. You must take care not to offend her. She might + endeavor to have you dismissed.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall always treat her politely, but I don’t think I can ever like + her.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, the housekeeper, on leaving the library, had gone to her own + room in dudgeon. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Wharton’s a fool!” she muttered to herself. + </p> + <p> + “What possessed him to take this cash-boy from the streets, invite him to + dinner, and treat him as an honored guest, and finally to engage him as a + reader? I never heard of anything so ridiculous! Is this little vagabond + to take my place in the old man’s good graces? I’ve been slaving and + slaving for twenty years, and what have I got by it? I’ve laid up two + thousand dollars; and what is that to provide for my old age? If the old + man would die, and remember me handsomely in his will, it would be worth + while; but this new favorite may stand in my way. If he does I’ll be + revenged on him as sure as my name is Ulrica Bradley.” + </p> + <p> + Here the area bell rang, and in a moment one of the housemaids entered + Mrs. Bradley’s room. + </p> + <p> + “There’s your nephew outside, ma’am, and wanting to see you.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell him to come in,” and the housekeeper’s cold face became softer and + pleasanter in aspect as a young man of twenty entered and greeted her + carelessly. + </p> + <p> + “How are you, aunt?” + </p> + <p> + “Pretty well, Thomas,” she answered. “You haven’t been here for some + time.” + </p> + <p> + “No. I’ve had a lot of work to do. Nothing but work, work, all the time,” + he grumbled. “I wish I was rich.” + </p> + <p> + “You get through at six o’clock, don’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you spend your evenings profitably, Thomas?” + </p> + <p> + “I ain’t likely to go on any sprees, aunt, if that’s what you mean. I only + get twelve dollars a week.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think you might live on it.” + </p> + <p> + “Starve, you mean. What’s twelve dollars to a young fellow like me when + he’s got his board to pay, and has to dress like a gentleman?” + </p> + <p> + “You are not in debt, I hope, Thomas?” said Mrs. Bradley, uneasily. + </p> + <p> + “I owe for the suit I have on, and I don’t know where I’m going to get the + money to pay for it.” + </p> + <p> + He was dressed in a flashy style, not unlike what is popularly denominated + a swell. His coarse features were disfigured with unhealthy blotches, and + his outward appearance was hardly such as to recommend him. But to him + alone the cold heart of the housekeeper was warm. He was her sister’s son + and her nearest relative. Her savings were destined for him, and in her + attachment she was not conscious of his disagreeable characteristics. She + had occasionally given him a five-dollar bill to eke out what he termed + his miserable pay, and now whenever he called he didn’t spare hints that + he was out of pocket, and that a further gift would be acceptable. Indeed, + the only tie that bound him to his aunt was a mercenary one. + </p> + <p> + But the housekeeper, sharp-sighted as she ordinarily was, did not detect + the secret motive of such attention she received from her nephew. She + flattered herself that he really loved her, not suspecting that he was too + selfish to love anybody but himself. + </p> + <p> + “Thomas,” she said, with a sudden thought, “I may be able to help you to + an increase of your income. Mr. Wharton needs somebody to read to him + evenings. On my recommendation he might take you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, aunt, but I don’t see it. I don’t want to be worked to death.” + </p> + <p> + “But, think, Thomas,” said his aunt, earnestly. “He is very rich. He might + take a fancy to you and remember you in his will.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish somebody would remember me in his will. Do you really think + there’s any chance of the old boy’s doing something handsome for me?” + </p> + <p> + “That depends on yourself. You must try to please him.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I must do something. What’ll he give?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know yet. In fact, there’s another reading to him just now.” + </p> + <p> + “Then there’s no chance for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me. It’s a boy he’s picked up in the streets, quite unsuited + for the place. He’s a cash-boy at Gilbert & Mack’s. Why, that’s where + you are,” she added, with sudden recollection. + </p> + <p> + “A cash-boy from my own place? What’s his name?” + </p> + <p> + “Fowler, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “I know him—he’s lately come. How did he get in with the old man?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Wharton fell in the street, and he happened to be near, and helped + him home.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll have to manage it, aunt.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll see what I can do to-morrow. He ought to prefer my nephew to a + strange boy, seeing I have been twenty years in his service. I’ll let you + know as soon as I have accomplished anything.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t half like the idea of giving up my evenings. I don’t believe I + can stand it.” + </p> + <p> + “It is only for a little while, to get him interested in you.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe I might try it a week, and then tell him my health was failing, and + get him to do something else for me.” + </p> + <p> + “At any rate, the first thing must be to become acquainted.” + </p> + <p> + Thomas now withdrew, for he did not enjoy spending an evening with his + aunt, the richer by five dollars, half of which was spent before the + evening closed at a neighboring billiard saloon. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <h3> + THE HOUSEKEEPER SCHEMING + </h3> + <p> + If Mrs. Bradley had been wiser, she would have felt less confident of her + nephew’s producing a favorable impression upon Mr. Wharton. She resolved + to open the subject at the breakfast table. + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t know, Mr. Wharton,” she commenced, “that you intended to engage + a reader.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor did I propose to do so until last evening.” + </p> + <p> + “I think—you’ll excuse me for saying so—that you will find + that boy too young to suit you.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think so. He reads very clearly and distinctly.” + </p> + <p> + “If I had known you thought of engaging a reader, I would have asked you + to engage my nephew.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I was not aware that you had a nephew in the city. Is he a boy?” + </p> + <p> + “No; he is a young man. He was twenty years old last June.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he unfavorably situated?” + </p> + <p> + “He has a place as salesman.” + </p> + <p> + “With what firm?” + </p> + <p> + “Gilbert & Mack.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, that is the same firm that employs my young friend. It is a good + firm.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it is, but my poor nephew receives a very small salary. He finds + it very hard to get along.” + </p> + <p> + “Your nephew is young. He will be promoted if he serves his employers + well.” + </p> + <p> + “Thomas would have been glad to read to you in the evening, sir,” said + Mrs. Bradley, commencing the attack. + </p> + <p> + “But for my present engagement, I might have taken him,” said Mr. Wharton, + politely. + </p> + <p> + “Have you engaged that boy for any length of time?” + </p> + <p> + “No; but it is understood that he will stay while I need him, and he + continues to suit me. I have a favorable opinion of him. Besides, he needs + the pay. He receives but three dollars a week as a cash-boy, and has a + sister to support as well as himself.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry,” she said in an injured tone. “I hope you’ll excuse my + mentioning it, but I took the liberty, having been for twenty years in + your employ.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure! You were quite right,” said her employer, kindly. “Perhaps I + may be able to do something for your nephew, though not that. Tell him to + come and see me some time.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” said the housekeeper. + </p> + <p> + There was one question she wanted to determine, and that was the amount of + compensation received by Frank. She did not like to inquire directly from + Mr. Wharton, but resolved to gain the information from our hero. Some + evenings later she had the opportunity. Mr. Wharton had an engagement, and + asked her to tell Frank, when he arrived that he was released from duty. + Instead of this she received him in the library herself. + </p> + <p> + “Probably Mr. Wharton will not be at home this evening,” she said. “If he + does not return in half an hour, you need not wait.” + </p> + <p> + She took up her work, seated in Mr. Wharton’s usual place, and Frank + remained ready for duty. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Wharton tells me you have a sister,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “You must find it hard work to provide for her as well as yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “I do, or rather I did till I came here.” + </p> + <p> + “How much does Mr. Wharton pay you?” she asked, in an indifferent tone. + </p> + <p> + “Five dollars a week,” answered Frank. + </p> + <p> + “You are lucky that you have such a chance,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am; it is more than I earn, I know, but it is a great help to + me.” + </p> + <p> + “And how much do you get as cash-boy?” + </p> + <p> + “Three dollars a week.” + </p> + <p> + “So you actually receive nearly twice as much for a couple of hours in the + evening as for the whole day.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “What a pity Thomas can’t have this chance,” she thought. + </p> + <p> + When it was nine o’clock, she said: + </p> + <p> + “You need not wait any longer. Mr. Wharton will not be home in time to + hear you read.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-evening, Mrs. Bradley,” said Frank. + </p> + <p> + “Good-evening!” she responded, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “That boy is in the way,” she said to herself, when she was left alone. + “He is in my way, and Tom’s way. I can see that he is artfully intriguing + for Mr. Wharton’s favor, but I must checkmate him. It’s odd,” she resumed, + after a pause, “but there is something in his face and voice that seems + familiar to me. What is it?” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + The following evening the housekeeper received another visit from her + nephew. + </p> + <p> + “How do, aunt?” said Thomas Bradley, carelessly, as he entered the + housekeeper’s room. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, thank you, Thomas. I am glad you are here. I have been wanting + to see you.” + </p> + <p> + “The old man isn’t going to do anything for me, is he?” + </p> + <p> + “How can you expect it so soon? He doesn’t know you yet. How much do you + think he pays the cash-boy that reads to him in the evening?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know.” + </p> + <p> + “Five dollars a week.” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn’t give up my evenings for that,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t so much the pay, Thomas, though that would be a help. He might + take a fancy to you.” + </p> + <p> + “That might pay better. When are you going to introduce me?” + </p> + <p> + “This evening; that is, I will ask Mr. Wharton if he will see you.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bradley entered the library, where Frank was engaged in reading + aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse my interruption,” she said; “but my nephew has just called, and I + should like to introduce him to you, if you will kindly receive him.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, Mrs. Bradley,” said Mr. Wharton. “Bring him in.” + </p> + <p> + The housekeeper left the room, but speedily reappeared, followed by her + nephew, who seemed a little abashed. + </p> + <p> + “My nephew, Thomas Bradley, Mr. Wharton,” said his aunt, by way of + introduction. “You have often heard me speak of Mr. Wharton, Thomas.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, sir?” said Thomas awkwardly. + </p> + <p> + “Pray take a seat, Mr. Bradley. Your aunt has been long a member of my + family. I am glad to see a nephew of hers. I believe you are a salesman at + Gilbert & Mack’s?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you must know my young friend here?” pointing to Frank. + </p> + <p> + “How are you, Cash?” said Thomas, laughing, under the impression that he + had said something smart. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, Mr. Bradley,” answered Frank, quietly. + </p> + <p> + “You see, that’s all the name we call ‘em in the store,” said Thomas. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wharton could not help thinking: + </p> + <p> + “How poorly this young man compares with my young friend. Still, as he is + Mrs. Bradley’s nephew, I must be polite to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Are there many cash-boys in your establishment, Mr. Bradley?” + </p> + <p> + “About a dozen. Ain’t there, Fowler?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe so, Mr. Bradley.” + </p> + <p> + “Gilbert & Mack do a good business, I should judge.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, they do; but that doesn’t do us poor salesmen much good. We get just + enough to keep soul and body together.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry to hear it,” said Mr. Wharton. + </p> + <p> + “Why, sir,” said Thomas, gaining confidence, “all they pay me is twelve + dollars a week. How can they expect a fellow to live on that?” + </p> + <p> + “I began my career about your age,” said Mr. Wharton, “or perhaps a little + younger, and had to live on but six dollars a week.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn’t you come near starving?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, I saved a little every week.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t,” said Thomas, a little discomfited. “Why, it takes half that to + dress decently.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wharton glanced quietly at the rather loud and flashy dress worn by + his visitor, but only said: + </p> + <p> + “A small salary, of course, makes economy necessary.” + </p> + <p> + “But when a fellow knows he earns a good deal more than he gets, he + doesn’t feel like starving himself just that his employers may grow rich.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, if he can better himself they cannot object.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s just what I want to do,” said Thomas; “but I expect I need + influence to help me to something better. That’s a good hint,” thought he. + </p> + <p> + “I was telling Thomas,” said the housekeeper, “that you had kindly + expressed a desire to be of service to him.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not now in active business,” said Mr. Wharton, “and of course have + not the opportunities I formerly had for helping young men, but I will + bear your case in mind, Mr. Bradley.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” said Thomas. “I am sure I earn a thousand dollars a + year.” + </p> + <p> + “I think, Thomas,” said Mrs. Bradley, “we won’t intrude on Mr. Wharton + longer this evening. When he finds something for you he will tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, aunt. Good-night, Mr. Wharton. Good-night, Cash,” said Thomas, + chuckling anew at the old joke. + </p> + <p> + “Well, aunt,” said he, when they were once more in the housekeeper’s room, + “do you think the old gentleman will do anything for me?” + </p> + <p> + “I hope so; but I am not sure, Thomas, whether you were not too familiar. + You spoke of money too quick.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s my way to come to business.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you were his reader, instead of that boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don’t. I wouldn’t want to be mewed up in that room with the old + man every night. I should get tired to death of it.” + </p> + <p> + “You would have a chance to get him interested in you. That boy is artful; + he is doing all he can to win Mr. Wharton’s favor. He is the one you have + most reason to dread.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think he will do me any harm?” + </p> + <p> + “I think he will injure your chances.” + </p> + <p> + “Egad! if I thought that, I’d wring the young rascal’s neck.” + </p> + <p> + “There’s a better way, Thomas.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s that?” + </p> + <p> + “Can’t you get him dismissed from Gilbert & Mack’s?” + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t enough influence with the firm.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose they thought him dishonest?” + </p> + <p> + “They’d give him the sack, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Can’t you make them think so, Thomas?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know.” + </p> + <p> + “Then make it your business to find out.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you know what good it’s going to do, aunt, but I don’t. He’s + got his place here with the old man.” + </p> + <p> + “If Mr. Wharton hears that he is discharged, and has lost his situation, + he will probably discharge him, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps so; I suppose you know best.” + </p> + <p> + “Do as I tell you, and I will manage the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. I need your help enough. To-night, for instance, I’m regularly + cleaned out. Haven’t got but twenty-five cents to my name.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me, Thomas,” said his aunt, with a troubled look, “you are + always out of money. I’ll give you five dollars, Thomas, but you must + remember that I am not made of money. My wages are small.” + </p> + <p> + “You ought to have a good nest-egg laid aside, aunt.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve got something, Thomas, and when I die, it’ll be yours.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope I shan’t have to wait too long,” thought Thomas, “but he did not + give utterance to the thought.” + </p> + <p> + “Come again, Thomas, and don’t forget what I have said,” said Mrs. + Bradley. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <h3> + JOHN WADE + </h3> + <p> + A tall man, with a sallow complexion, and heavily-bearded face, stood on + the deck of a Cunard steamer, only a few miles distant from New York + harbor. + </p> + <p> + “It’s three years since I have seen America,” he said to himself, + thoughtfully. “I suppose I ought to feel a patriotic fervor about setting + foot once more on my native shore, but I don’t believe in nonsense. I + would be content to live in Europe all my life, if my uncle’s fortune were + once in my possession. I am his sole heir, but he persists in holding on + to his money bags, and limits me to a paltry three thousand a year. I must + see if I can’t induce him to give me a good, round sum on account—fifty + thousand, at least—and then I can wait a little more patiently till + he drops off.” + </p> + <p> + “When shall we reach port, captain?” he asked, as he passed that officer. + </p> + <p> + “In four hours, I think, Mr. Wade.” + </p> + <p> + “So this is my birthday,” he said to himself. + </p> + <p> + “Thirty five years old to-day. Half my life gone, and I am still a + dependent on my uncle’s bounty. Suppose he should throw me off—leave + me out in the cold—where should I be? If he should find the boy—but + no, there is no chance of that. I have taken good care of that. By the + way, I must look him up soon—cautiously, of course—and see + what has become of him. He will grow up a laborer or mechanic and die + without a knowledge of his birth, while I fill his place and enjoy his + inheritance.” + </p> + <p> + At six o’clock the vessel reached the Quarantine. Most of the passengers + decided to remain on board one night more, but John Wade was impatient, + and, leaving his trunks, obtained a small boat, and soon touched the + shore. + </p> + <p> + It was nearly eight when John Wade landed in the city. It was half-past + eight when he stood on the steps of his uncle’s residence and rang the + bell. + </p> + <p> + “Is my uncle is Mr. Wharton—at home?” he asked of the servant who + answered the bell. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I am his nephew, just arrived from Europe. Let him know that I am here, + and would like to see him.” + </p> + <p> + The servant, who had never before seen him, having only been six months in + the house, regarded him with a great deal of curiosity, and then went to + do his biding. + </p> + <p> + “My nephew arrived!” exclaimed Mr. Wharton, in surprise. “Why, he never + let me know he was coming.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you see him, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure! Bring him in at once.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear uncle!” exclaimed John Wade, with effusion, for he was a polite + man, and could act when it suited his interests to do so, “I am glad to + see you. How is your health?” + </p> + <p> + “I am getting older every day, John.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t look a day older, sir,” said John, who did not believe what he + said, for he could plainly see that his uncle had grown older since he + last saw him. + </p> + <p> + “You think so, John, but I feel it. Your coming is a surprise. You did not + write that you intended sailing.” + </p> + <p> + “I formed the determination very suddenly, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Were you tired of Europe?” + </p> + <p> + “No; but I wanted to see you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, John,” said his uncle, pressing his nephew’s hand. “I am glad + you think so much of me. Did you have a pleasant voyage?” + </p> + <p> + “Rather rough, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “You have had no supper, of course? If you will ring the bell, the + housekeeper will see that some is got ready for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Is Mrs. Bradley still in your employ, uncle?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, John. I am so used to her that I shouldn’t know how to get along + without her.” + </p> + <p> + Hitherto John Wade had been so occupied with his uncle that he had not + observed Frank. But at this moment our hero coughed, involuntarily, and + John Wade looked at him. He seemed to be singularly affected. He started + perceptibly, and his sallow face blanched, as his eager eyes were fixed on + the boy’s face. + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens!” he muttered to himself. “Who is that boy? How comes he + here?” + </p> + <p> + Frank noticed his intent gaze, and wondered at it, but Mr. Wharton’s + eyesight was defective, and he did not perceive his nephew’s excitement. + </p> + <p> + “I see you have a young visitor, uncle,” said John Wade. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” said Mr. Wharton, with a kindly smile. “He spends all his + evenings with me.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, sir?” demanded John Wade, with sudden suspicion and + fear. “He seems very young company for——” + </p> + <p> + “For a man of my years,” said Mr. Wharton, finishing the sentence. “You + are right, John. But, you see, my eyes are weak, and I cannot use them for + reading in the evening, so it occurred to me to engage a reader.” + </p> + <p> + “Very true,” said his nephew. He wished to inquire the name of the boy + whose appearance had so powerfully impressed him but he determined not to + do so at present. What information he sought he preferred to obtain from + the housekeeper. + </p> + <p> + “He seemed surprised, as if he had seen me some where before, and + recognized me,” thought Frank, “but I don’t remember him. If I had seen + his face before, I think I should remember it.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t come out, uncle.” said John Wade, when summoned to tea by the + housekeeper. “Mrs. Bradley and I are going to have a chat by ourselves, + and I will soon return.” + </p> + <p> + “You are looking thin, Mr. John,” said Mrs Bradley. + </p> + <p> + “Am I thinner than usual? I never was very corpulent, you know. How is my + uncle’s health? He says he is well.” + </p> + <p> + “He is pretty well, but he isn’t as young as he was.” + </p> + <p> + “I think he looks older,” said John. “But that is not surprising—at + his age. He is seventy, isn’t he?” + </p> + <p> + “Not quite. He is sixty-nine.” + </p> + <p> + “His father died at seventy-one.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “But that is no reason why my uncle should not live till eighty. I hope he + will.” + </p> + <p> + “We all hope so,” said the housekeeper; but she knew, while she spoke, + that if, as she supposed, Mr. Wharton’s will contained a generous legacy + for her, his death would not afflict her much. She suspected also that + John Wade was waiting impatiently for his uncle’s death, that he might + enter upon his inheritance. Still, their little social fictions must be + kept up, and so both expressed a desire for his continued life, though + neither was deceived as to the other’s real feeling on the subject. + </p> + <p> + “By the way, Mrs. Bradley,” said John Wade, “how came my uncle to engage + that boy to read to him?” + </p> + <p> + “He was led into it, sir,” said the housekeeper, with a great deal of + indignation, “by the boy himself. He’s an artful and designing fellow, you + may rely upon it.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s his name?” + </p> + <p> + “Frank Fowler.” + </p> + <p> + “Fowler! Is his name Fowler?” he repeated, with a startled expression. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” answered the housekeeper, rather surprised at his manner. “You + don’t know anything about him, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” said John Wade, recovering his composure. “He is a perfect + stranger to me; but I once knew a man of that name, and a precious rascal + he was. When you mentioned his name, I thought he might be a son of this + man. Does he say his father is alive?” + </p> + <p> + “No; he is dead, and his mother, too, so the boy says.” + </p> + <p> + “You haven’t told me how my uncle fell in with him?” + </p> + <p> + “It was an accident. Your uncle fell in getting out of a Broadway stage, + and this boy happened to be near, and seeing Mr. Wharton was a rich + gentleman, he helped him home, and was invited in. Then he told some story + about his poverty, and so worked upon your uncle’s feelings that he hired + him to read to him at five dollars a week.” + </p> + <p> + “Is this all the boy does?” + </p> + <p> + “No; he is cash-boy in a large store on Broadway. He is employed there all + day, and he is here only in the evenings.” + </p> + <p> + “Does my uncle seem attached to him?” asked John. + </p> + <p> + “He’s getting fond of him, I should say. The other day he asked me if I + didn’t think it would be a good thing to take him into the house and give + him a room. I suppose the boy put it into his head.” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt. What did you say?” + </p> + <p> + “I opposed it. I told him that a boy would be a great deal of trouble in + the family.” + </p> + <p> + “You did right, Mrs. Bradley. What did my uncle say?” + </p> + <p> + “He hinted about taking him from the store and letting him go to school. + The next thing would be his adopting him. The fact is, Mr. John, the boy + is so artful that he knows just how to manage your uncle. No doubt he put + the idea into Mr. Wharton’s head, and he may do it yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Does my uncle give any reason for the fancy he has taken to the boy?” + demanded John. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the housekeeper. “He has taken it into his head that the boy + resembles your cousin, George, who died abroad. You were with him, I + believe?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I was with him. Is the resemblance strong? I took very little notice + of him.” + </p> + <p> + “You can look for yourself when you go back,” answered the housekeeper. + </p> + <p> + “What else did my uncle say? Tell me all.” + </p> + <p> + “He said: ‘What would I give, Mrs. Bradley, if I had such a grandson? If + George’s boy had lived, he would have been about Frank’s age. And,” + continued the housekeeper, “I might as well speak plainly. You’re my + master’s heir, or ought to be; but if this artful boy stays here long, + there’s no knowing what your uncle may be influenced to do. If he gets + into his dotage, he may come to adopt him, and leave the property away + from you.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you are quite right. The danger exists, and we must guard + against it. I see you don’t like the boy,” said John Wade. + </p> + <p> + “No, I don’t. He’s separated your uncle and me. Before he came, I used to + spend my evenings in the library, and read to your uncle. Besides, when I + found your uncle wanted a reader, I asked him to take my nephew, who is a + salesman in the very same store where that boy is a cash-boy, but although + I’ve been twenty years in this house I could not get him to grant the + favor, which he granted to that boy, whom he never met till a few weeks + ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Bradley, I sympathize with you,” said her companion. “The boy is + evidently working against us both. You have been twenty years in my + uncle’s service. He ought to remember you handsomely in his will. If I + inherit the property, as is my right, your services shall be remembered,” + said John Wade. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mr. John,” said the gratified housekeeper. + </p> + <p> + “That secures her help,” thought John, in his turn. + </p> + <p> + “She will now work hard for me. When the time comes, I can do as much or + as little for her as I please.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, we must work together against this interloper, who appears to + have gained a dangerous influence over my uncle.” + </p> + <p> + “You can depend upon me, Mr. John,” said Mrs. Bradley. + </p> + <p> + “I will think it over, and tell you my plan,” said John Wade. “But my + uncle will wonder at my appetite. I must go back to the library. We will + speak of this subject again.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <h3> + A FALSE FRIEND + </h3> + <p> + When John Wade re-entered the library, Frank was reading, but Mr. Wharton + stopped him. + </p> + <p> + “That will do, Frank,” he said. “As I have not seen my nephew for a long + time, I shall not require you to read any longer. You can go, if you + like.” + </p> + <p> + Frank bowed, and bidding the two good-evening, left the room. + </p> + <p> + “That is an excellent boy, John.” said the old gentleman, as the door + closed upon our hero. + </p> + <p> + “How did you fall in with him?” asked John. Mr. Wharton told the story + with which the reader is already familiar. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t know anything of his antecedents, I suppose?” said John, + carelessly. + </p> + <p> + “Only what he told me. His father and mother are dead, and he is obliged + to support himself and his sister. Did you notice anything familiar in + Frank’s expression?” asked Mr. Wharton. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. I didn’t observe him very closely.” + </p> + <p> + “Whenever I look at Frank, I think of George. I suppose that is why I have + felt more closely drawn to the boy. I proposed to Mrs. Bradley that the + boy should have a room here, but she did not favor it. I think she is + prejudiced against him.” + </p> + <p> + “Probably she is afraid he would be some trouble,” replied John. + </p> + <p> + “If George’s boy had lived he would be about Frank’s age. It would have + been a great comfort to me to superintend his education, and watch him + grow up. I could not have wished him to be more gentlemanly or promising + than my young reader.” + </p> + <p> + “Decidedly, that boy is in my way,” said John Wade to himself. “I must + manage to get rid of him, and that speedily, or my infatuated uncle will + be adopting him.” + </p> + <p> + “Of what disease did George’s boy die, John?” asked Mr. Wharton. + </p> + <p> + “A sudden fever.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could have seen him before he died. But I returned only to find + both son and grandson gone. I had only the sad satisfaction of seeing his + grave.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he was buried in the family lot at Greenwood, five days before you + reached home.” + </p> + <p> + “When I see men of my own age, surrounded by children and grandchildren, + it makes me almost envious,” said Mr. Wharton, sadly. “I declare to you, + John, since that boy has been with me, I have felt happier and more + cheerful than for years.” + </p> + <p> + “That boy again!” muttered John to himself. “I begin to hate the young + cub, but I mustn’t show it. My first work will be to separate him from my + uncle. That will require consideration. I wonder whether the boy knows + that he is not Fowler’s son? I must find out. If he does, and should + happen to mention it in my uncle’s presence, it might awaken suspicions in + his mind. I must interview the boy, and find out what I can. To enlist his + confidence, I must assume a friendly manner.” + </p> + <p> + In furtherance of this determination, John Wade greeted our hero very + cordially the next evening, when they met, a little to Frank’s surprise. + </p> + <p> + When the reading terminated, John Wade said, carelessly: + </p> + <p> + “I believe, uncle, I will go out for a walk. I think I shall be better for + it. In what direction are you going, Frank?” + </p> + <p> + “Down Sixth Avenue, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good; I will walk along with you.” + </p> + <p> + Frank and his companion walked toward Sixth Avenue. + </p> + <p> + “My uncle tells me you have a sister to support,” said Wade, opening the + conversation. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Does your sister resemble you?” asked John Wade. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir! but that is not surprising, for——” + </p> + <p> + “Why is it not surprising?” + </p> + <p> + Frank hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “You were about to assign some reason.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a secret,” said our hero, slowly; “that is, has been a secret, but + I don’t know why I should conceal it. Grace is not my sister. She is Mrs. + Fowler’s daughter, but I am not her son. I will tell you the story.” + </p> + <p> + That story Frank told as briefly as possible. John Wade listened to it + with secret alarm. + </p> + <p> + “It is a strange story,” he said. “Do you not feel a strong desire to + learn your true parentage?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. I don’t know, but I feel as if I should some day meet the man + who gave me into Mrs. Fowler’s charge.” + </p> + <p> + “You have met him, but it is lucky you don’t suspect it,” thought John + Wade. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad you told me this story,” said he, aloud. + </p> + <p> + “It is quite romantic. I may be able to help you in your search. But let + me advise you to tell no one else at present. No doubt there are parties + interested in keeping the secret of your birth from you. You must move + cautiously, and your chance of solving the mystery will be improved.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir. I will follow your advice.” + </p> + <p> + “I was mistaken in him,” thought Frank. “I disliked him at first, but he + seems inclined to be my friend.” + </p> + <p> + When Frank reached his lodging he found Jasper waiting up for him. He + looked thoughtful, so much so that Frank noticed it. + </p> + <p> + “You look as if you had something on your mind,” Jasper. + </p> + <p> + “You have guessed right. I have read that letter.” + </p> + <p> + He drew from his pocket a letter, which Frank took from his hands. + </p> + <p> + “It is from an uncle of mine in Ohio, who is proprietor of a weekly + newspaper. He is getting old, and finds the work too much for him. He + offers me a thousand dollars a year if I will come out and relieve him.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s a good offer, Jasper. I suppose you will accept it?” + </p> + <p> + “It is for my interest to do so. Probably my uncle will, after a while, + surrender the whole establishment to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be sorry to part with you, Jasper. It will seem very lonely, but + I think you ought to go. It is a good chance, and if you refuse it you may + not get such another.” + </p> + <p> + “My uncle wants me to come on at once. I think I will start Monday.” + </p> + <p> + Jasper saw no reason to change his determination, and on Monday morning he + started on his journey to Ohio. + </p> + <p> + Thus, at a critical moment in his fortunes, when two persons were planning + to injure him, he lost the presence and help of a valued friend. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <h3> + THE SPIDER AND THE FLY + </h3> + <p> + “Uncle,” said John Wade, “you spoke of inviting Frank Fowler to occupy a + room in the house. Why don’t you do it? It would be more convenient to you + and a very good chance for him.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like it,” said Mr. Wharton, “but Mrs. Bradley did not seem to + regard it favorably when I suggested it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mrs. Bradley is unused to boys, and she is afraid he would give her + trouble. I’ll undertake to bring her around.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you would, John. I don’t think Frank would give any trouble, and + it would enliven the house to have a boy here. Besides, he reminds me of + George, as I told you the other day.” + </p> + <p> + “I agree with you, uncle,” he said. “He does remind me a little of + George.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mrs. Bradley, what do you think I have done?” asked John, entering + the housekeeper’s room directly after his interview with his uncle. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, Mr. John,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “I have asked him to give that boy a room in the house.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you carried away with him as well as your uncle?” + </p> + <p> + “Not quite. The fact is, I have a motive in what I am doing. I’ll tell + you.” + </p> + <p> + He bent over and whispered in her ear. + </p> + <p> + “I never should have thought of that.” + </p> + <p> + “You see, our purpose is to convince my uncle that he is unworthy of his + favor. At present that would be rather difficult, but once get him into + the house and we shall have no trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand.” + </p> + <p> + In due time John Wade announced to his uncle that the housekeeper had + withdrawn her objections to his plan. + </p> + <p> + “Then I’ll tell him to-night,” said Mr. Wharton, brightening up. + </p> + <p> + Shortly after Frank entered the library that evening Mr. Wharton made the + proposal. + </p> + <p> + “You are very kind, Mr. Wharton,” he said. “I never thought of such a + thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it is settled that you are to come. You can choose your own time for + coming.” + </p> + <p> + “I will come to-morrow, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said Mr. Wharton, with satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + The next day, by special favor, Frank got off from the store two hours + earlier than usual. He bought at a Sixth Avenue basement store, a small, + second hand trunk for two dollars. He packed his scanty wardrobe into the + trunk, which, small as it was he was unable to fill, and had it carried to + Mr. Wharton’s house. + </p> + <p> + He asked to see Mrs. Bradley, and she came to the door. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to see you,” she said graciously. “You may leave your trunk in + the hall and I will have it carried up by the servants.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Frank, and he followed the housekeeper up the handsome + staircase. + </p> + <p> + “This is to be your room,” said the housekeeper, opening the door of a + small chamber on the third floor. + </p> + <p> + “It looks very nice and comfortable,” said Frank, looking about him with + satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + She left the room, and five minutes later our hero’s modest trunk was + brought up and deposited in the room. + </p> + <p> + That evening Frank read to Mr. Wharton as usual. + </p> + <p> + When nine o’clock came he said: + </p> + <p> + “You need not read aloud any more, but if you see any books in my library + which you would like to read to yourself you may do so. In fact, Frank, + you must consider yourself one of the family, and act as freely as if you + were at home.” + </p> + <p> + “How kind you are to me, Mr. Wharton,” said Frank. + </p> + <p> + The next morning after Frank had left the house for his daily task, John + Wade entered the housekeeper’s room. + </p> + <p> + “The boy is out of the way now, Mrs. Bradley,” he said. “You had better + see if you have a key that will unlock his trunk.” + </p> + <p> + The two conspirators went upstairs, and together entered Frank’s room. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bradley brought out a large bunch of keys, and successively tried + them, but one after another failed to open it. + </p> + <p> + “That’s awkward,” said John Wade. “I have a few keys in my pocket. One may + possibly answer.” + </p> + <p> + The housekeeper kneeled down, and made a trial of John Wade’s keys. The + last one was successful. The cover was lifted, and the contents were + disclosed. However, neither John nor Mrs. Bradley seemed particularly + interested in the articles for after turning them over they locked the + trunk once more. + </p> + <p> + “So far so good,” said John Wade. “We have found the means of opening the + trunk when we please.” + </p> + <p> + “When do you expect to carry out your plan, Mr. John?” + </p> + <p> + “Two weeks from this time my uncle is obliged to go to Washington for a + few days on business. While he is gone we will spring the trap, and when + he comes back he will find the boy gone in disgrace. We’ll make short work + of him.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <h3> + SPRINGING THE TRAP + </h3> + <p> + “I am going to give you a few days’ vacation, Frank,” said Mr. Wharton, a + fortnight later. “I am called to Washington on business. However, you have + got to feel at home here now.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “And Mrs. Bradley will see that you are comfortable.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure of that, sir,” said Frank, politely. + </p> + <p> + When Frank returned at night, Mr. Wharton was already gone. John Wade and + the housekeeper seated themselves in the library after dinner, and by + their invitation our hero joined them. + </p> + <p> + “By the way, Frank,” said John Wade, “did I ever show you this Russia + leather pocketbook?” producing one from his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, I believe not.” + </p> + <p> + “I bought it at Vienna, which is noted for its articles of Russia + leather.” + </p> + <p> + “It is very handsome, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “So I think. By the way, you may like to look at my sleeve-buttons. They + are of Venetian mosaic. I got them myself in Venice last year.” + </p> + <p> + “They are very elegant. You must have enjoyed visiting so many famous + cities.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; it is very interesting.” + </p> + <p> + John Wade took up the evening paper, and Frank occupied himself with a + book from his patron’s library. After a while John threw down the paper + yawning, and said that he had an engagement. Nothing else occurred that + evening which merits record. + </p> + <p> + Two days later Frank returned home in his usual spirits. But at the table + he was struck by a singular change in the manner of Mrs. Bradley and John + Wade. They spoke to him only on what it was absolutely necessary, and + answered his questions in monosyllables. + </p> + <p> + “Will you step into the library a moment?” said John Wade, as they arose + from the table. + </p> + <p> + Frank followed John into the library, and Mrs. Bradley entered also. + </p> + <p> + “Frank Fowler,” the enemy began, “do you remember my showing you two + evenings since a pocketbook, also some sleeve-buttons of Venetian mosaic, + expensively mounted in gold?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “That pocketbook contained a considerable sum of money,” pursued his + questioner. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know anything about that.” + </p> + <p> + “You probably supposed so.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you tell me what you mean, Mr. Wade?” demanded Frank, impatiently. + “I have answered your questions, but I can’t understand why you ask them.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you may suspect,” said Wade, sarcastically. + </p> + <p> + “It looks as if you had lost them and suspected me of taking them.” + </p> + <p> + “So it appears.” + </p> + <p> + “You are entirely mistaken, Mr. Wade. I am not a thief. I never stole + anything in my life.” + </p> + <p> + “It is very easy to say that,” sneered John Wade. “You and Mrs. Bradley + were the only persons present when I showed the articles, and I suppose + you won’t pretend that she stole them?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; though she appears to agree with you that I am a thief. I never + thought of accusing her,” replied Frank. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Wade,” said the housekeeper, “I feel that it is my duty to insist + upon search being made in my room.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you make the same offer?” asked John Wade, turning to Frank. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” answered our hero, proudly. “I wish you to satisfy yourself + that I am not a thief. If you will come to my room at once, Mr. Wade, you + and Mrs. Bradley, I will hand you the key of my trunk.” + </p> + <p> + The two followed him upstairs, exulting wickedly in his discomfiture, + which they had reason to forsee. + </p> + <p> + He handed his key to his artful enemy, and the latter bending over, opened + the trunk, which contained all our hero’s small possessions. + </p> + <p> + He raised the pile of clothes, and, to Frank’s dismay, disclosed the + missing pocketbook and sleeve-buttons in the bottom of the trunk. + </p> + <p> + “What have you got to say for yourself now, you young villain?” demanded + John Wade, in a loud voice. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t understand it,” Frank said, in a troubled tone. “I don’t know how + the things came there. I didn’t put them there.” + </p> + <p> + “Probably they crept in themselves,” sneered John. + </p> + <p> + “Someone put them there,” said Frank, pale, but resolute; “some wicked + person, who wanted to get me into trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by that, you young vagabond?” demanded John Wade, + suspiciously. + </p> + <p> + “I mean what I say,” he asserted. “I am away all day, and nothing is + easier than to open my trunk and put articles in, in order to throw + suspicion on me.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, you rascal!” said John Wade, roughly. “I shall treat you + better than you deserve. I won’t give you over to the police out of regard + for my uncle, but you must leave this house and never set foot in it + again. It will be the worse for you if you do.” + </p> + <p> + John Wade and the housekeeper left the room, and our hero was left to + realize the misfortune which had overwhelmed him. + </p> + <p> + Frank arose at an early hour the next morning and left the house. It was + necessary for him to find a new home at once in order to be at the store + in time. He bought a copy of the Sun and turned to the advertising + columns. He saw a cheap room advertised near the one he had formerly + occupied. Finding his way there he rang the bell. + </p> + <p> + The door was opened by a slatternly-looking woman, who looked as if she + had just got up. + </p> + <p> + “I see by the Sun you have a room to let,” said Frank. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; do you want to see it now?” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to.” + </p> + <p> + “Come upstairs and I will show you the room.” + </p> + <p> + The room proved to be small, and by no means neat in appearance, but the + rent was only a dollar and a quarter a week, and Frank felt that he could + not afford to be particular, so he quickly closed the bargain. + </p> + <p> + The next day, about eleven o’clock in the forenoon, he was surprised at + seeing Mrs. Bradley enter the store and thread her way to that part of the + counter where her nephew was stationed. She darted one quick look at him, + but gave him no sign of recognition. His heart sank within him, for he had + a presentiment that her visit boded fresh evil for him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <h3> + FROM BAD TO WORSE + </h3> + <p> + Frank’s misgivings were not without good cause. The housekeeper’s call at + the store was connected with him. How, will be understood from a + conversation which took place that morning between her and John Wade. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a relief to get that boy out of the house, Mrs. Bradley,” he said at + the breakfast table. + </p> + <p> + “That it is, Mr. John,” she replied. “But he’ll be trying to get back, + take my word for it.” + </p> + <p> + “He won’t dare to,” said John Wade, incredulously. “I told him if he came + near the house I would give him up to the police.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid he will write to your uncle. He’s bold enough for anything.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t think of that,” said John, thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know his handwriting, Mrs. Bradley?” + </p> + <p> + “I think I should know it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then if any letters come which you know to be from him, keep them back + from my uncle.” + </p> + <p> + “What shall I do with them?” + </p> + <p> + “Give them to me. I don’t want my uncle worried by his appeals.” + </p> + <p> + “Your uncle seems to be very attached to him. He may go to the store to + see him.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true. I should not like that. How shall we prevent it, that’s the + question.” + </p> + <p> + “If Gilbert & Mack knew that he was not honest they would discharge + him.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly,” said John Wade; “and as probably he would be unable to get + another situation, he would be compelled to leave the city, and we should + get rid of him. I commend your shrewdness, Mrs. Bradley. Your plan is most + excellent.” + </p> + <p> + John Wade had more reasons than the housekeeper knew of for desiring the + removal of our young hero from the city—reasons which the reader has + probably guessed. There was a dark secret in his life connected with a + wrong done in years past, from which he hoped some day to reap personal + benefit. Unconsciously Frank Fowler stood in his way, and must be removed. + Such was his determination. + </p> + <p> + “I am going out this morning,” said the housekeeper. “I will make it in my + way to call at Gilbert & Mack’s. My nephew is a salesman there, as I + have told you. I will drop a word in his ear, and that will be enough to + settle that boy’s hash.” + </p> + <p> + “Your language is professional, Mrs. Bradley,” said John Wade, laughing, + “but you shouldn’t allude to hash in an aristocratic household. I shall be + glad to have you carry out your plan.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you’ll speak to your uncle about my nephew, Mr. John. He gets very + poor pay where he is.” + </p> + <p> + “I won’t forget him,” said John, carelessly. + </p> + <p> + In his heart he thought Thomas Bradley a very low, obtrusive fellow, whom + he felt by no means inclined to assist, but it was cheap to make promises. + </p> + <p> + The reader understands now why Mrs. Bradley made a morning call at Gilbert + & Mack’s store. + </p> + <p> + She knew at what part of the counter her nephew was stationed, and made + her way thither at once. He did not at first recognize her, until she + said: + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, Thomas.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, aunt. What brings you here this morning? Any good news for + me? Has the old gentleman come around and concluded to do something + handsome?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Wharton is not in the city. He has gone to Washington. But that isn’t + what I came about this morning. You remember that boy who has been reading + to Mr. Wharton?” + </p> + <p> + “One of our cash-boys. Yes; there he is, just gone by.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he has stolen Mr. John’s pocketbook and some jewelry belonging to + him.” + </p> + <p> + “What have you done about it? What does Mr. Wharton say?” + </p> + <p> + “He’s away from home. He doesn’t know yet. Mr. John gave him a lecture, + and ordered him to leave the house.” + </p> + <p> + “Does he admit that he took the things?” + </p> + <p> + “No; he denied it as bold as brass, but it didn’t do him any good. There + were the things in his trunk. He couldn’t get over that.” + </p> + <p> + Thomas fastened a shrewd glance on his aunt’s face, for he suspected the + truth. + </p> + <p> + “So you’ve got rid of him?” he said. “What do you propose to do next?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. John thinks your employer ought to know that he is a thief.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to tell them?” + </p> + <p> + “I want you to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “You must tell them yourself, aunt. I shan’t.” + </p> + <p> + “Then introduce me to Mr. Gilbert, Thomas, and I’ll do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Follow me, aunt.” + </p> + <p> + He led his aunt to the rear of the store, where Mr. Gilbert was standing. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Gilbert,” he said, “allow me to introduce my aunt, Mrs. Bradley.” + </p> + <p> + The housekeeper was courteously received, and invited to be seated. She + soon opened her business, and blackened poor Frank’s character as she had + intended. + </p> + <p> + “Really, Mrs. Bradley, I am sorry to hear this,” said Mr. Gilbert. “You + think there is no doubt of the boy’s guilt?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry to say that I have no doubt at all,” said the housekeeper, + hypocritically. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Mack and myself have had a very good opinion of him. He is faithful + and prompt.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, sir, you will retain him in your employ if you are willing to + take the risk, but I thought it my duty to put you on your guard.” + </p> + <p> + “I am obliged to you, Mrs. Bradley; though, as I said, I regret to find + that my confidence in the boy has been misplaced.” + </p> + <p> + Late in the afternoon, Frank was called to the cashier’s desk. + </p> + <p> + “I am directed by Mr. Gilbert to say that your services will not be + required after to-day,” he said. “Here are the week’s wages.” + </p> + <p> + “Why am I discharged? What have I done?” demanded Frank, while his heart + sank within him. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. You must ask Mr. Gilbert,” answered the cashier. + </p> + <p> + “I will speak to him, at any rate,” and Frank walked up to the senior + partner, and addressed to him the same question. + </p> + <p> + “Can you not guess?” asked Mr. Gilbert, sternly. + </p> + <p> + “I can guess that a false accusation has been brought against me,” said + Frank. + </p> + <p> + “A respectable lady has informed me that you are not honest. I regret it, + for I have been pleased with your diligence. Of course, I cannot retain + you in my employ.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Gilbert,” said Frank, earnestly, “the charge is false. Mrs. Bradley + is my enemy, and wishes me harm. I don’t understand how the things came + into my trunk, but I didn’t put them there.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you are innocent, but I must discharge you. Business is dull now, + and I had decided to part with four of my cash-boys. I won’t pass judgment + upon you, but you must go.” + </p> + <p> + Frank bowed in silence, for he saw that further entreaty would be vain, + and left the store more dispirited than at any moment since he had been in + the city. + </p> + <p> + Ten days Frank spent in fruitless efforts to obtain a place. + </p> + <p> + All this time his money steadily diminished. He perceived that he would + soon be penniless. Evidently, something must be done. He formed two + determinations. The first was to write to Mr. Wharton, who, he thought, + must now have returned from Washington, asserting his innocence and + appealing to him to see Gilbert & Mack, and re-establish him in their + confidence. The second was, since he could not obtain a regular place, to + frequent the wharves and seek chances to carry bundles. In this way he + might earn enough, with great economy, to pay for his board and lodging. + </p> + <p> + One morning the housekeeper entered the library where John Wade sat + reading the daily papers. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. John,” she said, holding out a letter, “here is a letter from that + boy. I expected he would write to your uncle.” + </p> + <p> + John Wade deliberately opened the letter. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, Mrs. Bradley, and I will read the letter aloud.” + </p> + <p> + It will be only necessary to quote the concluding sentences: + </p> + <p> + “‘I hope, Mr. Wharton, you will not be influenced against me by what Mrs. + Bradley and your nephew say. I don’t know why it is, but they are my + enemies, though I have always treated them with respect. I am afraid they + have a desire to injure me in your estimation. If they had not been, they + would have been content with driving me from your house, without also + slandering me to my employers, and inducing them to discharge me. Since I + was discharged, I have tried very hard to get another place, but as I + cannot bring a recommendation from Gilbert & Mack, I have everywhere + been refused. I ask you, Mr. Wharton to consider my situation. Already my + small supply of money is nearly gone, and I do not know how I am to pay my + expenses. If it was any fault of mine that had brought me into this + situation, I would not complain, but it seems hard to suffer when I am + innocent. + </p> + <p> + “‘I do not ask to return to your house, Mr. Wharton, for it would not be + pleasant, since your nephew and Mrs. Bradley dislike me, but I have a + right to ask that the truth may be told to my employers, so that if they + do not wish me to return to their service, they may, at least, be willing + to give me a recommendation that will give me a place elsewhere.”’ + </p> + <p> + “I must prevent the boy communicating with my uncle, if it is a possible + thing. ‘Strike while the iron is hot,’ I say.” + </p> + <p> + “I think that is very judicious, Mr. John. I have no doubt you will know + how to manage matters.” + </p> + <p> + John Wade dressed himself for a walk, and drawing out a cigar, descended + the steps of his uncle’s house into the street. + </p> + <p> + He reached Fifth Avenue, and walked slowly downtown. He was about opposite + Twenty-eighth Street, when he came face to face with the subject of his + thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going?” John Wade demanded sternly. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know that I am bound to answer your question,” answered Frank, + quietly, “but I have no objection. I am going to Thirty-ninth Street with + this bundle.” + </p> + <p> + “Hark you, boy! I have something to say to you,” continued John Wade, + harshly. “You have had the impudence to write to my uncle.” + </p> + <p> + “What did he say?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing that you would like to hear. He looks upon you as a thief.” + </p> + <p> + “You have slandered me to him, Mr. Wade,” he said, angrily. “You might be + in better business than accusingly a poor boy falsely.” + </p> + <p> + “Hark you, young man! I have had enough of your impudence. I will give you + a bit of advice, which you will do well to follow. Leave this city for a + place where you are not known, or I may feel disposed to shut you up on a + charge of theft.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not leave the city, Mr. Wade,” returned Frank, firmly. “I shall + stay here in spite of you,” and without waiting for an answer, he walked + on. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <h3> + AN ACCOMPLICE FOUND + </h3> + <p> + No sooner had John Wade parted from our hero than he saw approaching him a + dark, sinister-looking man, whom he had known years before. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, Mr. Wade,” said the newcomer. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, Mr. Graves. Are you busy just now?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; I am out of employment. I have been unfortunate.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I will give you a job. Do you see that boy?” said John Wade, + rapidly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I see him.” + </p> + <p> + “I want you to follow him. Find out where he lives, and let me know this + evening. Do you understand?” + </p> + <p> + “I understand. You may rely upon me, sir,” answered Nathan Graves; and + quickening his pace, he soon came within a hundred feet of our hero. + </p> + <p> + After fulfilling his errand, Frank walked downtown again, but did not + succeed in obtaining any further employment. Wherever he went, he was + followed by Graves. Unconsciously, he exhausted the patience of that + gentleman, who got heartily tired of his tramp about the streets. But the + longest day will come to an end, and at last he had the satisfaction of + tracking Frank to his humble lodging. Then, and not till then, he felt + justified in leaving him. + </p> + <p> + Nathan Graves sought the residence of John Wade. He rang the bell as the + clock struck eight. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what success?” asked Wade, when they met. + </p> + <p> + “I have tracked the boy. What more can I do for you?” asked Graves. + </p> + <p> + “I want to get him away from the city. The fact is—I may as well + tell you—my uncle has taken a great fancy to the boy, and might be + induced to adopt him, and cut me off from my rightful inheritance. The boy + is an artful young rascal, and has been doing all he could to get into the + good graces of my uncle, who is old and weak-minded.” + </p> + <p> + It was nine o’clock when Nathan Graves left the house, John Wade himself + accompanying him to the door. + </p> + <p> + “How soon do you think you can carry out my instructions?” asked Wade. + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow, if possible.” + </p> + <p> + “The sooner the better.” + </p> + <p> + “It is lucky I fell in with him,” said Nathan Graves to himself, with + satisfaction, as he slowly walked down Fifth Avenue. “It’s a queer + business, but that’s none of my business. The main thing for me to + consider is that it brings money to my purse, and of that I have need + enough.” + </p> + <p> + Graves left the house richer by a hundred dollars than he entered it. + </p> + <p> + It was eleven o’clock on the forenoon of the next day when Frank walked up + Canal Street toward Broadway. He had been down to the wharves since early + in the morning, seeking for employment. He had offered his services to + many, but as yet had been unable to secure a job. + </p> + <p> + As he was walking along a man addressed him: + </p> + <p> + “Will you be kind enough to direct me to Broadway?” + </p> + <p> + It was Nathan Graves, with whom Frank was destined to have some unpleasant + experiences. + </p> + <p> + “Straight ahead,” answered Frank. “I am going there, and will show you, if + you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, I wish you would. I live only fifteen or twenty miles + distant,” said Graves, “but I don’t often come to the city, and am not + much acquainted. I keep a dry-goods store, but my partner generally comes + here to buy goods. By the way, perhaps you can help me about the errand + that calls me here today.” + </p> + <p> + “I will, sir, if I can,” said Frank, politely. + </p> + <p> + “My youngest clerk has just left me, and I want to find a successor—a + boy about your age, say. Do you know any one who would like such a + position?” + </p> + <p> + “I am out of employment myself just now. Do you think I will suit?” + </p> + <p> + “I think you will,” said Mr. Graves. + </p> + <p> + “You won’t object to go into the country?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I will give you five dollars a week and your board for the present. If + you suit me, your pay will be raised at the end of six months. Will that + be satisfactory?” asked his companion. + </p> + <p> + “Quite so, sir. When do you wish me to come?” + </p> + <p> + “Can you go out with me this afternoon?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. I only want to go home and pack up my trunk.” + </p> + <p> + “To save time, I will go with you, and we will start as soon as possible.” + </p> + <p> + Nathan Graves accompanied Frank to his room, where his scanty wardrobe was + soon packed. A hack was called, and they were speedily on their way to the + Cortland Street ferry. + </p> + <p> + They crossed the ferry, and Mr. Graves purchased two tickets to Elizabeth. + He bought a paper, and occupied himself in reading. Frank felt that + fortune had begun to shine upon him once more. By and by, he could send + for Grace, and get her boarded near him. As soon as his wages were raised, + he determined to do this. While engaged in these pleasant speculations, + they reached the station. + </p> + <p> + “We get out here,” said Mr. Graves. + </p> + <p> + “Is your store in this place?” asked Frank. + </p> + <p> + “No; it is in the next town.” + </p> + <p> + Nathan Graves looked about him for a conveyance. He finally drove a + bargain with a man driving a shabby-looking vehicle, and the two took + their seats. + </p> + <p> + They were driven about six miles through a flat, unpicturesque country, + when they reached a branch road leading away from the main one. + </p> + <p> + It was a narrow road, and apparently not much frequented. Frank could see + no houses on either side. + </p> + <p> + “Is your store on this road?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no; but I am not going to the store yet. We will go to my house, and + leave your trunk.” + </p> + <p> + At length the wagon stopped, by Graves’ orders, in front of a gate hanging + loosely by one hinge. + </p> + <p> + “We’ll get out here,” said Graves. + </p> + <p> + Frank looked with some curiosity, and some disappointment, at his future + home. It was a square, unpainted house, discolored by time, and looked far + from attractive. There were no outward signs of occupation, and everything + about it appeared to have fallen into decay. Not far off was a barn, + looking even more dilapidated than the house. + </p> + <p> + At the front door, instead of knocking—there was no bell—Graves + drew a rusty key from his pocket and inserted it in the lock. They found + themselves in a small entry, uncarpeted and dingy. + </p> + <p> + “We’ll go upstairs,” said Graves. + </p> + <p> + Arrived on the landing, he threw open a door, and ushered in our hero. + </p> + <p> + “This will be your room,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Frank looked around in dismay. + </p> + <p> + It was a large, square room, uncarpeted, and containing only a bed, two + chairs and a washstand, all of the cheapest and rudest manufacture. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you will soon feel at home here,” said Graves. “I’ll go down and + see if I can find something to eat.” + </p> + <p> + He went out, locking the door behind him + </p> + <p> + “What does this mean?” thought Frank, with a strange sensation. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <h3> + FRANK AND HIS JAILER + </h3> + <p> + It was twenty minutes before Frank, waiting impatiently, heard the steps + of his late companion ascending the stairs. + </p> + <p> + But the door was not unlocked. Instead, a slide was revealed, about eight + inches square, through which his late traveling companion pushed a plate + of cold meat and bread. + </p> + <p> + “Here’s something to eat,” he said; “take it.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you lock me in?” demanded our hero. + </p> + <p> + “You can get along without knowing, I suppose,” said the other, with a + sneer. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t mean to,” said Frank, firmly. “I demand an explanation. How long + do you intend to keep me here?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry I can’t gratify your curiosity, but I don’t know myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you think that I am rich, but I am not. I have no money. You + can’t get anything out of me,” said Frank. + </p> + <p> + “That may be so, but I shall keep you.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose that was all a lie about your keeping store?” + </p> + <p> + “It was a pretty little story, told for your amusement, my dear boy,” said + Graves. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come without it.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a villain!” said Frank. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, boy,” said Graves, in a different tone, his face darkening, + “you had better not talk in that way. I advise you to eat your dinner and + be quiet. Some supper will be brought to you before night.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he abruptly closed the slide, and descended the stairs, leaving + Frank to his reflections, which it may be supposed, were not of the + pleasantest character. + </p> + <p> + Frank did not allow his unpleasant situation to take away his appetite, + and though he was fully determined to make the earliest possible attempt + to escape, he was sensible enough first to eat the food which his jailer + had brought him. + </p> + <p> + His lunch dispatched, he began at once to revolve plans of escape. + </p> + <p> + There were three windows in the room, two on the front of the house, the + other at the side. + </p> + <p> + He tried one after another, but the result was the same. All were so + fastened that it was quite impossible to raise them. + </p> + <p> + Feeling that he could probably escape through one of the windows when he + pleased, though at the cost of considerable trouble, Frank did not trouble + himself much, or allow himself to feel unhappy. He decided to continue his + explorations. + </p> + <p> + In the corner of the room was a door, probably admitting to a closet. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it is locked,” thought Frank, but on trying it, he found that + such was not the case. He looked curiously about him, but found little to + repay him. His attention was drawn, however to several dark-colored masks + lying upon a shelf. + </p> + <p> + He also discovered a small hole in the wall of the size of a marble. + Actuated by curiosity, he applied his eye to the opening, and peeped into + what was probably the adjoining room. It was furnished in very much the + same way as the one in which he was confined, but at present it was + untenanted. Having seen what little there was to be seen, Frank withdrew + from his post of observation and returned to his room. + </p> + <p> + It was several hours later when he again heard steps ascending the stairs, + and the slide in the door was moved. + </p> + <p> + He looked toward it, but the face that he saw was not that of Nathan + Graves. + </p> + <p> + It was the face of a woman. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <p> + “OVER THE HILL TO THE POORHOUSE” + </p> + <p> + We are compelled for a time to leave our hero in the hands of his enemies, + and return to the town of Crawford, where an event has occurred which + influences seriously the happiness and position of his sister, Grace. + </p> + <p> + Ever since Frank left the town, Grace had been a welcome member of Mr. + Pomeroy’s family, receiving the kindest treatment from all, so that she + had come to feel very much at home. + </p> + <p> + So they lived happily together, till one disastrous night a fire broke + out, which consumed the house, and they were forced to snatch their + clothes and escape, saving nothing else. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pomeroy’s house was insured for two-thirds of its value, and he + proposed to rebuild immediately, but it would be three months at least + before the new house would be completed. In the interim, he succeeded in + hiring a couple of rooms for his family, but their narrow accommodations + would oblige them to dispense with their boarder. Sorry as Mr. and Mrs. + Pomeroy were to part with her, it was obvious that Grace must find another + home. + </p> + <p> + “We must let Frank know,” said Mr. Pomeroy, and having occasion to go up + to the city at once to see about insurance, he went to the store of + Gilbert & Mack, and inquired for Prank. + </p> + <p> + “Fowler? What was he?” was asked. + </p> + <p> + “A cash-boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he is no longer here. Mr. Gilbert discharged him.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know why he was discharged?” asked Mr. Pomeroy, pained and + startled. + </p> + <p> + “No; but there stands Mr. Gilbert. He can tell you.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pomeroy introduced himself to the head of the firm and repeated his + inquiry. + </p> + <p> + “If you are a friend of the lad,” said Mr. Gilbert, “you will be sorry to + learn that he was charged with dishonesty. It was a very respectable lady + who made the charge. It is only fair to say that the boy denied it, and + that, personally, we found him faithful and trusty. But as the dullness of + trade compelled us to discharge some of our cash-boys, we naturally + discharged him among the number, without, however, judging his case.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, sir, you have treated the boy very unfairly. On the strength of a + charge not proved, you have dismissed him, though personally you had + noticed nothing out of the way in him, and rendered it impossible for him + to obtain another place.” + </p> + <p> + “There is something in what you say, I admit. Perhaps I was too hasty. If + you will send the boy to me, I will take him back on probation.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” said Mr. Pomeroy, gratefully “I will send him here.” + </p> + <p> + But this Mr. Pomeroy was unable to do. He did not know of Frank’s new + address, and though he was still in the city, he failed to find him. + </p> + <p> + He returned to Crawford and communicated the unsatisfactory intelligence. + He tried to obtain a new boarding place for Grace, but no one was willing + to take her at two dollars a week, especially when Mr. Pomeroy was + compelled to admit that Frank was now out of employment, and it was + doubtful if he would be able to keep up the payment. + </p> + <p> + Tom Pinkerton managed to learn that Grace was now without a home, and + mentioned it to his father. + </p> + <p> + “Won’t she have to go to the poorhouse now, father?” he asked eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Deacon Pinkerton. “There is no other place for her that I can + see.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I’m glad,” said Tom, maliciously. “Won’t that upstart’s pride be + taken down? He was too proud to go to the poorhouse, where he belonged, + but he can’t help his sister’s going there. If he isn’t a pauper himself, + he’ll be the brother of a pauper, and that’s the next thing to it.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” said the deacon. “He was very impudent in return for my + kindness. Still, I am sorry for him.” + </p> + <p> + I am afraid the deacon’s sorrow was not very deep, for he certainly looked + unusually cheerful when he harnessed up his horse and drove around to the + temporary home of the Pomeroys. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, Mr. Pomeroy,” he said, seeing the latter in the yard. + “You’ve met with a severe loss.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, deacon; it is a severe loss to a poor man like me.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure. Well, I’ve called around to relieve you of a part of your + cares. I am going to take Grace Fowler to the poorhouse.” + </p> + <p> + “Couldn’t you get her a place with a private family to help about the + house in return for her board, while she goes to school?” + </p> + <p> + “There’s nobody wants a young girl like her,” said the deacon. + </p> + <p> + “Her brother would pay part of her board—that is, when he has a + place.” + </p> + <p> + “Hasn’t he got a place?” asked the deacon, pricking up his ears. “I heard + he was in a store in New York.” + </p> + <p> + “He lost his place,” said Mr. Pomeroy, reluctantly, “partly because of the + dullness of general trade.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he can’t maintain his sister. She will have to go to the poorhouse. + Will you ask her to get ready, and I’ll take her right over to the + poorhouse.” + </p> + <p> + There was no alternative. Mr. Pomeroy went into the house, and broke the + sad news to his wife and Grace. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” she said, with attempted cheerfulness, though her lips + quivered, “I shan’t have to stay there long. Frank will be sure to send + for me very shortly.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s too bad, Grace,” said Sam, looking red about the eyes; “it’s too bad + that you should have to go to the poorhouse.” + </p> + <p> + “Come and see me, Sam,” said Grace. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I will, Grace. I’ll come often, too. You shan’t stay there long.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-by,” said Grace, faltering. “You have all been very kind to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, my dear child,” said Mrs. Pomeroy. + </p> + <p> + “Who knows but you can return to us when the new house is done?” + </p> + <p> + So poor Grace went out from her pleasant home to find the deacon, + grim-faced and stern, waiting for her. + </p> + <p> + “Jump in, little girl,” he said. “You’ve kept me waiting for you a long + time, and my time is valuable.” + </p> + <p> + The distance to the poorhouse was about a mile and a half. For the first + half mile Deacon Pinkerton kept silence. Then he began to speak, in a tone + of cold condescension, as if it were a favor for such a superior being to + address an insignificant child, about to become a pauper. + </p> + <p> + “Little girl, have you heard from your brother lately?” + </p> + <p> + “Not very lately, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “What is he doing?” + </p> + <p> + “He is in a store.” + </p> + <p> + “I apprehend you are mistaken. He has lost his place. He has been turned + away,” said the deacon, with satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “Frank turned away! Oh, sir, you must be mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Pomeroy told me. He found out yesterday when he went to the city.” + </p> + <p> + Poor Grace! she could not longer doubt now, and her brother’s misfortune + saddened her even more than her own. + </p> + <p> + “Probably you will soon see your brother.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do you think so, sir?” asked Grace, joyfully. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered the deacon, grimly. “He will find himself in danger of + starvation in the city, and he’ll creep back, only too glad to obtain a + nice, comfortable home in the poorhouse.” + </p> + <p> + But Grace knew her brother better than that. She knew his courage, his + self-reliance and his independent spirit, and she was sure the deacon was + mistaken. + </p> + <p> + The home for which Grace was expected to be so grateful was now in sight. + It was a dark, neglected looking house, situated in the midst of barren + fields, and had a lonely and desolate aspect. It was superintended by Mr. + and Mrs. Chase, distant relations of Deacon Pinkerton. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Chase was an inoffensive man, but Mrs. Chase had a violent temper. She + was at work in the kitchen when Deacon Pinkerton drove up. Hearing the + sound of wheels, she came to the door. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Chase,” said the deacon, “I’ve brought you a little girl, to be + placed under your care.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s her name?” inquired the lady. + </p> + <p> + “Grace Fowler.” + </p> + <p> + “Grace, humph! Why didn’t she have a decent name?” + </p> + <p> + “You can call her anything you like,” said the deacon. + </p> + <p> + “Little girl, you must behave well,” said Deacon Pinkerton, by way of + parting admonition. “The town expects it. I expect it. You must never + cease to be grateful for the good home which it provides you free of + expense.” + </p> + <p> + Grace did not reply. Looking in the face of her future task-mistress was + scarcely calculated to awaken a very deep feeling of gratitude. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said Mrs. Chase, addressing her new boarder, “just take off your + things, Betsy, and make yourself useful.” + </p> + <p> + “My name isn’t Betsy, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t, isn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “No; it is Grace.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t say so! I’ll tell you one thing, I shan’t allow anybody to + contradict me here, and your name’s got to be Betsy while you’re in this + house. Now take off your things and hang them up on that peg. I’m going to + set you right to work.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am,” said Grace, alarmed. + </p> + <p> + “There’s some dishes I want washed, Betsy, and I won’t have you loitering + over your work, neither.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + Such was the new home for which poor Grace was expected to be grateful. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> + <h3> + WHAT FRANK HEARD THROUGH THE CREVICE + </h3> + <p> + Frank looked with some surprise at the woman who was looking through the + slide of his door. He had expected to see Nathan Graves. She also regarded + him with interest. + </p> + <p> + “I have brought you some supper,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Frank reached out and drew in a small waiter, containing a cup of tea and + a plate of toast. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” he said. “Where is the man who brought me here?” + </p> + <p> + “He has gone out.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know why he keeps me here in confinement?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the woman, hastily. “I know nothing. I see much, but I know + nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Are many prisoners brought here as I have been?” asked our hero, in spite + of the woman’s refusal to speak. + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t understand what object they can have in detaining me. If I were + rich, I might guess, but I am poor. I am compelled to work for my daily + bread, and have been out of a place for two weeks.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t understand,” she said, in a low voice, rather to herself than to + him. “But I cannot wait. I must not stand here. I will come up in fifteen + minutes, and if you wish another cup of tea, or some toast, I will bring + them.” + </p> + <p> + His confinement did not affect his appetite, for he enjoyed his tea and + toast; and when, as she had promised, the woman came up, he told her he + would like another cup of tea, and some more toast. + </p> + <p> + “Will you answer one question?” asked our hero. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” answered the woman in a flurried tone. + </p> + <p> + “You look like a good woman. Why do you stay in such a house as this?” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you, though I should do better to be silent. But you won’t + betray me?” + </p> + <p> + “On no account.” + </p> + <p> + “I was poor, starving, when I had an application to come here. The man who + engaged me told me that it was to be a housekeeper, and I had no suspicion + of the character of the house—that it was a den of—” + </p> + <p> + She stopped short, but Frank understood what she would have said. + </p> + <p> + “When I discovered the character of the house, I would have left but for + two reasons. First, I had no other home; next, I had become acquainted + with the secrets of the house, and they would have feared that I would + reveal them. I should incur great risk. So I stayed.” + </p> + <p> + Here there was a sound below. The woman started. + </p> + <p> + “Some one has come,” she said. “I must go down I will come up as soon as I + can with the rest of your supper.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. You need not hurry.” + </p> + <p> + Our hero was left to ponder over what he had heard. There was evidently a + mystery connected with this lonely house a mystery which he very much + desired to solve. But there was one chance. Through the aperture in the + closet he might both see and hear something, provided any should meet + there that evening. + </p> + <p> + The remainder of his supper was brought him by the same woman, but she was + in haste, and he obtained no opportunity of exchanging another word with + her. + </p> + <p> + Frank did not learn who it was that had arrived. Listening intently, he + thought he heard some sounds in the next room. Opening the closet door, + and applying his eye to the aperture, he saw two men seated in the room, + one of whom was the man who had brought him there. + </p> + <p> + He applied his ear to the opening, and heard the following conversation: + </p> + <p> + “I hear you’ve brought a boy here, Nathan,” said the other, who was a + stout, low-browed man, with an evil look. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Graves, with a smile; “I am going to board him here a while.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s it all about? What are you going to gain by it?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll tell you all I know. I’ve known something of the family for a long + time. John Wade employed me long ago. The old millionaire had a son who + went abroad and died there. His cousin, John Wade, brought home his son—a + mere baby—the old man’s grandson, of course, and sole heir, or + likely to be, to the old man’s wealth, if he had lived. In that case, John + Wade would have been left out in the cold, or put off with a small + bequest.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Did the boy live?” + </p> + <p> + “No; he died, very conveniently for John Wade, and thus removed the only + obstacle from his path.” + </p> + <p> + “Very convenient. Do you think there was any foul play?” + </p> + <p> + “There may have been.” + </p> + <p> + “But I should think the old man would have suspected.” + </p> + <p> + “He was away at the time. When he returned to the city, he heard from his + nephew that the boy was dead. It was a great blow to him, of course. Now, + I’ll tell you what,” said Graves, sinking his voice so that Frank found it + difficult to hear, “I’ll tell you what I’ve thought at times.” + </p> + <p> + “I think the grandson may have been spirited off somewhere. Nothing more + easy, you know. Murder is a risky operation, and John Wade is respectable, + and wouldn’t want to run the risk of a halter.” + </p> + <p> + “You may be right. You don’t connect this story of yours with the boy + you’ve brought here, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “I do,” answered Graves, emphatically. “I shouldn’t be surprised if this + was the very boy!” + </p> + <p> + “What makes you think so?” + </p> + <p> + “First, because there’s some resemblance between the boy and the old man’s + son, as I remember him. Next, it would explain John Wade’s anxiety to get + rid of him. It’s my belief that John Wade has recognized in this boy the + baby he got rid of fourteen years ago, and is afraid his uncle will make + the same discovery.” + </p> + <p> + Frank left the crevice through which he had received so much information + in a whirl of new and bewildering thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “Was it possible,” he asked himself, “that he could be the grandson of Mr. + Wharton, his kind benefactor?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> + <h3> + THE ESCAPE + </h3> + <p> + It was eight o’clock the next morning before Frank’s breakfast was brought + to him. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry you have had to wait,” the housekeeper said, as she appeared + at the door with a cup of coffee and a plate of beefsteak and toast, “I + couldn’t come up before.” + </p> + <p> + “Have the men gone away?” said Frank. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I have something to tell you. I learned something about myself last + night. I was in the closet, and heard the man who brought me here talking + to another person. May I tell you the story?” + </p> + <p> + “If you think it will do any good,” said the housekeeper, “but I can’t + help you if that is what you want.” + </p> + <p> + He told the whole story. As he proceeded, the housekeeper betrayed + increased, almost eager interest, and from time to time asked him + questions in particular as to the personal appearance of John Wade. When + Frank had described him as well as he could, she said, in an excited + manner: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is—it must be the same man.” + </p> + <p> + “The same man!” repeated our hero, in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know anything about him?” + </p> + <p> + “I know that he is a wicked man. I am afraid that I have helped him carry + out his wicked plan, but I did not know it at the time, or I never would + have given my consent.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t understand you,” said our hero, puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Will you tell me what you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Fourteen years ago I was very poor—poor and sick besides. My + husband had died, leaving me nothing but the care of a young infant, whom + it was necessary for me to support besides myself. Enfeebled by sickness, + I was able to earn but little, but we lived in a wretched room in a + crowded tenement house. My infant boy was taken sick and died. As I sat + sorrowfully beside the bed on which he lay dead, I heard a knock at the + door. I opened it, and admitted a man whom I afterward learned to be John + Wade. He very soon explained his errand. He agreed to take my poor boy, + and pay all the expenses of his burial in Greenwood Cemetery, provided I + would not object to any of his arrangements. He was willing besides to pay + me two hundred dollars for the relief of my necessities. Though I was + almost beside myself with grief for my child’s loss, and though this was a + very favorable proposal, I hesitated. I could not understand why a + stranger should make me such an offer. I asked him the reason.” + </p> + <p> + “‘You ask too much,’ he answered, appearing annoyed. ‘I have made you a + fair offer. Will you accept it, or will you leave your child to have a + pauper’s funeral?’ + </p> + <p> + “That consideration decided me. For my child’s sake I agreed to his + proposal, and forebore to question him further. He provided a handsome + rosewood casket for my dear child, but upon the silver plate was inscribed + a name that was strange to me—the name of Francis Wharton.” + </p> + <p> + “Francis Wharton!” exclaimed Frank. + </p> + <p> + “I was too weak and sorrowful to make opposition, and my baby was buried + as Francis Wharton. Not only this, but a monument is erected over him at + Greenwood, which bears this name.” + </p> + <p> + She proceeded after a pause: + </p> + <p> + “I did not then understand his object. Your story makes it clear. I think + that you are that Francis Wharton, under whose name my boy was buried.” + </p> + <p> + “How strange!” said Frank, thoughtfully. “I cannot realize it. But how did + you know the name of the man who called upon you?” + </p> + <p> + “A card slipped from his pocket, which I secured without his knowledge.” + </p> + <p> + “How fortunate that I met you,” said Frank. “I mean to let Mr. Wharton + know all that I have learned, and then he shall decide whether he will + recognize me or not as his grandson.” + </p> + <p> + “I have been the means of helping to deprive you of your just rights, + though unconsciously. Now that I know the wicked conspiracy in which I + assisted, I will help undo the work.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Frank. “The first thing is to get out of this place.” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot open the door of your room. They do not trust me with the key.” + </p> + <p> + “The windows are not very high from the ground. I can get down from the + outside.” + </p> + <p> + “I will bring you a clothesline and a hatchet.” + </p> + <p> + Frank received them with exultation. + </p> + <p> + “Before I attempt to escape,” he said, “tell me where I can meet you in + New York. I want you to go with me to Mr. Wharton’s. I shall need you to + confirm my story.” + </p> + <p> + “I will meet you to-morrow at No. 15 B—Street.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we shall meet to-morrow. What shall I call your name?” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Parker.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. I will get away as quickly as possible, and when we are in the + city we will talk over our future plans.” + </p> + <p> + With the help of the hatchet, Frank soon demolished the lower part of the + window. Fastening the rope to the bedstead, he got out of the window and + safely descended to the ground. + </p> + <p> + A long and fatiguing walk lay before him. But at last he reached the cars, + and half an hour later the ferry at Jersey City. + </p> + <p> + Frank thought himself out of danger for the time being, but he was + mistaken. + </p> + <p> + Standing on the deck of the ferryboat, and looking back to the pier from + which he had just started, he met the glance of a man who had intended to + take the same boat, but had reached the pier just too late. His heart beat + quicker when he recognized in the belated passenger his late jailer, + Nathan Graves. + </p> + <p> + Carried away by his rage and disappointment, Nathan Graves clenched his + fist and shook it at his receding victim. + </p> + <p> + Our hero walked into the cabin. He wanted a chance to deliberate. He knew + that Nathan Graves would follow him by the next boat, and it was important + that he should not find him. Where was he to go? + </p> + <p> + Fifteen minutes after Frank set foot on the pier, his enemy also landed. + But now the difficult part of the pursuit began. He had absolutely no clew + as to the direction which Frank had taken. + </p> + <p> + For an hour and a half he walked the streets in the immediate neighborhood + of the square, but his labor was without reward. Not a glimpse could he + catch of his late prisoner. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I must go to see Mr. Wade,” he at last reluctantly decided. “He + may be angry, but he can’t blame me. I did my best. I couldn’t stand guard + over the young rascal all day.” + </p> + <p> + The address which the housekeeper had given Frank was that of a + policeman’s family in which she was at one time a boarder. On giving his + reference, he was hospitably received, and succeeded in making + arrangements for a temporary residence. + </p> + <p> + About seven o’clock Mrs. Parker made her appearance. She was fatigued by + her journey and glad to rest. + </p> + <p> + “I was afraid you might be prevented from coming,” said Frank. + </p> + <p> + “I feared it also. I was about to start at twelve o’clock, when, to my + dismay, one of the men came home. He said he had the headache. I was + obliged to make him some tea and toast. He remained about till four + o’clock, when, to my relief, he went upstairs to lie down. I was afraid + some inquiry might be made about you, and your absence discovered, + especially as the rope was still hanging out of the window, and I was + unable to do anything more than cut off the lower end of it. When the sick + man retired to his bed I instantly left the house, fearing that the return + of some other of the band might prevent my escaping altogether.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose you had met one of them, Mrs. Parker?” + </p> + <p> + “I did. It was about half a mile from the house.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he recognize you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. He asked in some surprise where I was going. I was obliged to make + up a story about our being out of sugar. He accepted it without suspicion, + and I kept on. I hope I shall be forgiven for the lie. I was forced to + it.” + </p> + <p> + “You met no further trouble?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “I must tell you of my adventure,” said Frank. + </p> + <p> + “I came across the very man whom I most dreaded—the man who made me + a prisoner.” + </p> + <p> + “Since he knows that you have escaped, he is probably on your track,” said + Mrs. Parker. “It will be hardly safe for you to go to Mr. Wharton’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “He will probably think you likely to go there, and be lying in wait + somewhere about.” + </p> + <p> + “But I must go to Mr. Wharton,” said Frank. “I must tell him this story.” + </p> + <p> + “It will be safer to write.” + </p> + <p> + “The housekeeper, Mrs. Bradley, or John Wade, will get hold of the letter + and suppress it. I don’t want to put them on their guard.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right. It is necessary to be cautious.” + </p> + <p> + “You see I am obliged to call on my grandfather, that is, on Mr. Wharton.” + </p> + <p> + “I can think of a better plan.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Go to a respectable lawyer. Tell him your story, and place your case in + his hands. He will write to your grandfather, inviting him to call at his + office on business of importance, without letting him know what is the + nature of it. You and I can be there to meet him, and tell our story. In + this way John Wade will know nothing, and learn nothing, of your + movements.” + </p> + <p> + “That is good advice, Mrs. Parker, but there is one thing you have not + thought of,” said our hero. + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” + </p> + <p> + “Lawyers charge a great deal for their services, and I have no money.” + </p> + <p> + “You have what is as good a recommendation—a good case. The lawyer + will see at once that if not at present rich, you stand a good chance of + obtaining a position which will make you so. Besides, your grandfather + will be willing, if he admits your claim, to recompense the lawyer + handsomely.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not think of that. I will do as you advise to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> + <h3> + JOHN WADE’S DISAPPOINTMENT + </h3> + <p> + Mr. Wharton sat at dinner with his nephew and the housekeeper. He had been + at home for some time, and of course on his arrival had been greeted with + the news of our hero’s perfidy. But, to the indignation of Mrs. Bradley + and John, he was obstinately incredulous. + </p> + <p> + “There is some mistake, I am sure,” he said. “Such a boy as Frank is + incapable of stealing. You may be mistaken after all, John. Why did you + not let him stay till I got back? I should like to have examined him + myself.” + </p> + <p> + “I was so angry with him for repaying your kindness in such a way that I + instantly ordered him out of the house.” + </p> + <p> + “I blame you, John, for your haste,” said his uncle. “It was not just to + the boy.” + </p> + <p> + “I acted for the best, sir,” he forced himself to say in a subdued tone. + </p> + <p> + “Young people are apt to be impetuous, and I excuse you; but you should + have waited for my return. I will call at Gilbert & Mack’s, and + inquire of Frank himself what explanation he has to give.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, sir, you will do what you think proper,” said his nephew. + </p> + <p> + This ended the conversation, and Mr. Wharton, according to his declared + intention, went to Gilbert & Mack’s. He returned disappointed with the + information that our hero was no longer in the store. + </p> + <p> + I now return to Mr. Wharton at dinner. + </p> + <p> + “Here is a letter for you, sir,” said the housekeeper. “It was brought by + the postman this afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wharton adjusted his spectacles and read as follows: + </p> + <p> + “No.— Wall Street. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Sir: Will you have the kindness to call at my office to-morrow + morning at eleven o’clock, if it suits your convenience? I have an + important communication to make to you, which will, I think be of an + agreeable character. Should the time named not suit you, will you have the + kindness to name your own time? + </p> + <p> + “Yours respectfully, + </p> + <p> + “MORRIS HALL.” + </p> + <p> + “Read that, John,” said his uncle, passing him the letter. + </p> + <p> + “Morris Hall is a lawyer, I believe, sir,” said John. + </p> + <p> + “Have you any idea of the nature of the communication he desires to make?” + </p> + <p> + “No idea at all.” + </p> + <p> + “If it would relieve you, sir, I will go in your place,” said John, whose + curiosity was aroused. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, John, but this is evidently a personal matter. I shall go down + there to-morrow at the appointed time.” + </p> + <p> + John was far from suspecting that the communication related to Frank, + though he had heard the day previous from Nathan Graves of the boy’s + escape. He had been very much annoyed, and had given his agent a severe + scolding, with imperative orders to recapture the boy, if possible. + </p> + <p> + It was not without a feeling of curiosity that Mr. Wharton entered the law + office of Mr. Hall. He announced himself and was cordially welcomed. + </p> + <p> + “You have a communication to make to me,” said Mr. Wharton. + </p> + <p> + “I have.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me all without delay.” + </p> + <p> + “I will, sir. This is the communication I desire to make.” + </p> + <p> + The story of John Wade’s treachery was told, and the means by which he had + imposed upon his uncle, but the lawyer carefully abstained from + identifying the lost grandson with Frank Fowler. + </p> + <p> + When the story was concluded, Mr. Wharton said: + </p> + <p> + “Where is my grandson—my poor George’s boy? Find him for me, and + name your own reward.” + </p> + <p> + “I will show him to you at once, sir. Frank!” + </p> + <p> + At the word, Frank, who was in an inner office, entered. Mr. Wharton + started in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Frank!” he exclaimed. “My dear boy, is it you who are my grandson?” + </p> + <p> + “Grandfather!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wharton held out his arms, and our hero, already attached to him for + his kindness, was folded in close embrace. + </p> + <p> + “Then you believe I am your grandson?” said Frank. + </p> + <p> + “I believe it without further proof.” + </p> + <p> + “Still, Mr. Wharton,” said the lawyer, “I want to submit my whole proof. + Mrs. Parker!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Parker entered and detailed her part in the plot, which for fourteen + years had separated Frank from his family. + </p> + <p> + “Enough!” said Mr. Wharton. “I am convinced—I did not believe my + nephew capable of such baseness. Mrs. Parker, you shall not regret your + confession. I will give you a pension which will relieve you from all fear + of want. Call next week on Mr. Hall, and you shall learn what provision I + have made for you. You, Frank, will return with me.” + </p> + <p> + “What will Mr. John say?” asked Frank. + </p> + <p> + “He shall no longer sleep under my roof,” said Mr. Wharton, sternly. + </p> + <p> + Frank was taken to a tailor and fitted out with a handsome new suit, + ready-made for immediate use, while three more were ordered. + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Wharton reached home, he entered the library and rang the bell. + </p> + <p> + To the servant who answered he said: + </p> + <p> + “Is Mr. John at home?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; he came in ten minutes ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell him I wish to see him at once in the library. Summon the + housekeeper, also.” + </p> + <p> + Surprised at the summons, John Wade answered it directly. He and Mrs. + Bradley met at the door and entered together. Their surprise and dismay + may be conjectured when they saw our hero seated beside Mr. Wharton, + dressed like a young gentleman. + </p> + <p> + “John Wade,” said his uncle, sternly, “the boy whom you malign, the boy + you have so deeply wronged, has found a permanent home in this house.” + </p> + <p> + “What, sir! you take him back?” + </p> + <p> + “I do. There is no more fitting place for him than the house of his + grandfather.” + </p> + <p> + “His grandfather!” exclaimed his nephew and the housekeeper, in chorus. + </p> + <p> + “I have abundant proof of the relationship. This morning I have listened + to the story of your treachery. I have seen the woman whose son, + represented to me as my grandson, lies in Greenwood Cemetery. I have + learned your wicked plans to defraud him of his inheritance, and I tell + you that you have failed.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall make my will to-morrow, bequeathing all my property to my + grandson, excepting only an annual income of two thousand dollars to + yourself. And now I must trouble you to find a boarding place. After what + has passed I do not desire to have you in the family.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not believe he is your grandson,” said John Wade, too angry to heed + prudential considerations. + </p> + <p> + “Your opinion is of little consequence.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, sir, I have only to wish you good-morning. I will send for my + trunks during the day.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning,” said Mr. Wharton, gravely, and John Wade left the room, + baffled and humiliated. + </p> + <p> + “I hope, sir,” said the housekeeper, alarmed for her position; “I hope you + don’t think I knew Mr. Frank was your grandson. I never was so astonished + and flustrated in my life. I hope you won’t discharge me, sir—me + that have served you so faithfully for many years.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall remain on probation. But if Frank ever has any fault to find + with you, you must go.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you will forgive me, Mr. Frank.” + </p> + <p> + “I forgive you freely,” said our hero, who was at a generous disposition. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_CONC" id="link2H_CONC"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CONCLUSION + </h2> + <p> + Meanwhile poor Grace had fared badly at the poorhouse in Crawford. It was + a sad contrast to the gentle and kindly circle at Mr. Pomeroy’s. What made + it worse for Grace was, that she could hear nothing of Frank. She feared + he was sick, or had met with some great misfortune, which prevented his + writing. + </p> + <p> + One day a handsome carriage drove up to the door. From it descended our + hero, elegantly attired. He knocked at the door. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Chase, who was impressed by wealth, came to the door in a flutter of + respect, induced by the handsome carriage. + </p> + <p> + “What do you wish, sir?” she asked, not recognizing Frank. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Grace Fowler!” repeated Mrs. Chase, almost paralyzed at Grace being + called for by such stylish acquaintances. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my sister Grace.” + </p> + <p> + “What! are you Frank Fowler?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I have come to take Grace away.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know as I have the right to let her go,” said Mrs. Chase, + cautiously, regretting that Grace was likely to escape her clutches. + </p> + <p> + “Here is an order from Deacon Pinkerton, chairman of the overseers of the + poor.” + </p> + <p> + “That is sufficient. She can go. You look as if you had prospered in the + city,” she added, with curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I have found my grandfather, who is very wealthy.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t say!” ejaculated Mrs. Chase. “I’ll tell Grace at once.” + </p> + <p> + Grace at work in the kitchen had not heard of the arrival. What was her + surprise when Mrs. Chase, entering the room, said, graciously: + </p> + <p> + “Go up at once, Grace, and change your clothes. Your brother has come for + you. He is going to take you away.” + </p> + <p> + Grace almost gasped for breath. + </p> + <p> + “Is it true?” + </p> + <p> + “It is indeed. Your brother looks remarkably well. He is rich. He has + found a rich grandfather, and has come for you in a carriage.” + </p> + <p> + In amazed bewilderment Grace went upstairs and put on her best dress, poor + enough in comparison with her brother’s clothes, and was soon happy in his + embrace. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to see you, my dear child,” said Mr. Wharton, who had + accompanied Frank. “Will you come to the city and live with me and your + brother?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir, I shall be glad to be wherever Frank is.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, my dear child,” sand Mrs. Chase, whose feelings were very much + changed, now that Grace was a rich young lady. “Come and see me some + time.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mrs. Chase. Good-bye!” + </p> + <p> + The carriage rolled on. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + A few words only remain. Our hero was placed at a classical school, and in + due time entered college, where he acquitted himself with distinction. He + is now making a tour of Europe. Grace was also placed at an excellent + school, and has developed into a handsome and accomplished young lady. It + is thought she will marry Sam Pomeroy, who obtained a place in a + counting-room through Mr. Wharton’s influence, and is now head clerk, with + a prospect of partnership. His father received a gift of five thousand + dollars from Mr. Wharton as an acknowledgment of his kindness to Frank. + Tom Pinkerton holds a subordinate clerkship in the same house, and is + obliged to look up to Sam as his superior. It chafes his pride, but his + father has become a poor man, and Tom is too prudent to run the risk of + losing his situation. John Wade draws his income regularly, but he is + never seen at his uncle’s house. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wharton is very happy in his grandson, and made happier by the + intelligence just received from Europe of Frank’s engagement to a + brilliant young New York lady whom he met in his travels. He bids fair, + though advanced in age, to live some years yet, to witness the happiness + of his dear grandson, once a humble cash-boy. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cash Boy, by Horatio Alger Jr. + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CASH BOY *** + +***** This file should be named 296-h.htm or 296-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/296/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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